#I so meant it when I said this man has me acting unwise

[cas---2y5]

how am I supposed to work in these conditions (getting the filthiest texts from my new playmate)

[yuki-world]

那维莱特 | NEUVILLETTE ; TEACH

summary | you're just so sexually inexperienced, surely neuvillette, someone who has lived for millenniums, could teach you a thing or two about pleasuring someone?

tags | nsfw (smut), fem!reader, slight corruption, first-time blowjob, throat bulge, face-fucking, cum swallowing, praise kink, mentions of virginity, 1.9k words

a/n : you have no idea how down bad i am. pt 2 here —> learn

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

neuvillette is not amused.

he’s always open to sharing his knowledge with others; in fact, he has been teaching you a plethora of things, more than you could’ve imagined. you admired neuvillette, he knew that very well. experience was definitely something he didn’t lack.

but some things… aren’t meant to be shared, especially not whatever you were asking for.

“its not that big of a deal,” you rolled your eyes, crossing your arms. “you said you would teach me anything.”

“please, it's unwise to joke about things like that,” neuvillette says. he looks at you for any hints of a smile, a giggle, anything to indicate that you were joking. he sees nothingー just you with your head slightly tilted, waiting patiently for his answer. quite cute, he must admit.

look, he understands that you are a curious person; you’re always up for expanding your knowledge. but isn’t this… a little too much? asking him to teach you how to give a blowjob? it's not like he didn’t have experience with… that. but this topic wasn’t exactly what he had in mind when he said you could ask him anything.

but neuvillette has a soft spot for you; he’s come to grow fond of you. what started from him finding it annoying how you pester him on the daily, to him looking forward to seeing you as an escape from his work. you’re like a breath of fresh air. he has no obligation to, but he feels like it's his job to guide and protect you.

the room fills with silence, and you attempt to draw an answer out of him again. he’ll probably give in, you think. after all, he does have a soft spot for you. “oh, but i’m not joking,” you rebutted. “why won’t you teach me?” you try again, hoping your question would be answered.

its silent yet again, the lack of response making you click your tongue. its hard to figure out how he’s feeling, because the look on his face tells you nothing. that’s when you thought you could tease him a little to get a reaction out of him, if that would even work.

“how disappointing. i suppose i’ll just have to ask someone else, maybe wriothesley? i’m sure he’ll be happy to teach me.”

the mention of another man’s name has his attention back onto you immediately. sure, he’s hesitant on teaching you about pleasuring someone. but no way is he going to let you ask someone else about this; he won’t allow it. won’t even consider it. the image of you sucking another man off has him furrowing his eyebrows.

“what do you think? or maybe i should askー”

“i think that’s enough, y/n.”

at this point, you think you might’ve actually made him angry. he’s never sounded this strict with you before, it almost sounds like he’s about to give you a whole lecture on why you shouldn’t be asking for these types of things. but he doesn’t.

it’s such a dirty act, it feels terribly wrong, but he simply couldn’t deprive you of such knowledge. if something like this piques your curiosity, then he will go along with it to satisfy you.

neuvillette clears his throat, composing himself. “i will only teach you onceー once and we won’t speak about this again. does that sound alright?”

he sees your face light up in an instant, nodding eagerly. “thank you, neuvillette! i will be forever grateful!” you exclaim, and he feels his cock twitch in his pants. fuck, he thinks. you’re going to be the death of him.

“kneel for me,” he asks of you, and you lower yourself obediently. you’re directly facing his crotch, and embarrassment creeps onto you. you shy away from the image in front of you, nervously playing with your fingers. your face is flushed red no matter how hard you try to hide it.

he notices immediately, hand reaching to stroke your hair, intending to provide some sort of comfort and reassurance. “are you nervous?” he questions, and you nod slowly.

“oh, love. don’t be nervous. i’ll teach you everything you need to know.”

your heart jumps at the pet name, eyes widening. that felt way too good to hear. you don’t ask if he called you that by mistake, partially because you were too eager to proceed, but also because you didn’t want him to correct himselfー if it was even a mistake at all. “please do, neuvillette,” you urge.

he finally releases his cock from the confines of his pants, hard and erect as it lightly slaps your cheek when he pulls it out.

you almost start drooling at his length. it was so large, so long, so thick. you haven’t even put it in your mouth and you’re already starting to think about how it would feel inside you. the pink tip leaks pearly drops of pre-cum. your hands reach up to his cock immediately, and he hisses.

“eager now, are we?” he teases, while you’re still in awe over his impressive size. he silently chuckles at how you admire his length, almost like you just found treasure. “have you ever seen a cock, y/n?”

you’ve�� seen a few. not in real life though, and definitely none similar to his size. it's different, in a good way, seeing it up-close. it’s even more special because it's neuvillette. “not in real lifeー not like this, no.”

“i see,” he says, exhaling as he pulls your hand off, giving himself a couple of pumps. were you really that pure? it makes him so hard.

“are you ready? listen very carefully, yes?” he guides his cock onto your lips, tapping a few times. “take it in slowly, and ensure your teeth don’t touch,” he tells you.

he taps his cock on your lips again, and you open your mouth again without any hesitation. he guides his cock into your mouth inch by inch, and you taste his pre-cum on your tongue immediately. a tad bit salty, but you can take it.

“y/nー oh…” he sighs in pleasure as he feels your mouth wrap around his cock-head. he was in heavenー your mouth was so warm and wet, he could barely control himself from fucking into your face. he should be the one composed, he should be the one staying calm, he’s the one teaching you for fuck’s sake; yet he’s the one struggling as you start taking his cock further into your mouth.

“just like that, a little moreー mmh… thats it,” his breath hitches when he feels the tip hit the back of your throat. he was so deep in, but he wanted to just thrust it in further. you took it so well, he thinks. not even gagging like he expected you to, and no teeth just like he told you to. how obedient.

you adjusted your mouth on his cock as your drool started dripping down onto your lap. your hand reaches up to stroke what you couldn’t take in, and it elicits a gasp from him. he doesn’t instruct you to, but you start moving on your own as if you’ve done it before.

you drench his cock with your saliva as you suck him off, your hands holding his thighs for support.

“such a good girl, y/n. you take my cock so wellー don’t even need to teach you,” he praises and you hum around him as a form of thanks. you take that as motivation as you suck faster, occasionally swirling your tongue on the tip. you tongue his slit, licking up every drop of pre-cum that leaks.

he throws his head back when you take him particularly deep in your throat, and he almost couldn’t take it anymore. he stops you, pulling you off his cock. copious amounts of saliva drip out, a string of saliva connecting his cock to your mouth.

this was a sight he could only ever see in his dreams. your lips swollen, cheeks flushed red, your eyes tearyー god, he loves you, he really loves you. he thinks you look absolutely beautiful even with your face covered in your own spit. this does it for him.

“stay put, and let me fuck your face, alright? can you handle it, love?” there it was again, calling you ‘love’. you’re smitten, you’d do anything after hearing him call you that. “iー i can handle it.”

neuvillette smiles, wiping off some of the drool on your face before he slides his cock inside your mouth again. “as expected of my good girl.”

his hands hold the sides of your head for stability, slowly thrusting into your mouth to test the waters. when he’s sure you’re okay, he starts fucking into your face, making sure you feel every inch of his cock down your throat.

he can’t stopー he’s addicted. truth be told, he’s been deprived of sexual pleasure for so long, it felt like heaven. you took him so deep with no complaints, you deserve so much more for being so good to him. he can’t stop thrusting into your mouthー it feels like he was fucking a pussy.

and then thoughts of fucking you invade his mind. if you’ve never given a blowjob before, surely that would mean you’ve never had sex, which makes you a virgin. fuck, he wants to take you so bad. you’d be so tight, so warm, so sweet. would you like to know about sex too, then? would you let him take you?

he’s brought back to reality as your hand grips his thighs, signaling for him to stop. he thinks he might’ve hurt you, but you continue to your administrations. he’s so close, he feels his climax approaching, but he needs slightly more.

“give me your hand,” he requests, and you raise your hand up. he takes it gently, guiding it his balls as he squeezes them. “yeahー ah, keep doing that.”

what a fast learner you are. you massage his balls as you continuing to deep-throat him. the grip on your hair was getting tighter, louder groans coming out from him. “you’re going to make me cum, love. god, i’m so close.”

he breaks when you take him in so deep, he sees a bulge in your throat. it was his last straw. “ohー fuuuck…” he thrusts into you as he blows his load straight down your throat. you didn’t even have time to taste him or even react, widening your eyes as he throws his head back.

he pants, pulling his cock out slightly till only the tip was left in your mouth, pumping out weak spurts of cum. you swallowed it all, even going so far as to licking him clean of any remnants of cum.

neuvillette is a mess. you’re a mess. he’s so far gone, he still feels the effects of his climax. he pulls you off his cock, helping you up before tucking himself back in his pants.

“are you alright, y/n? are you hurt? my apologies, i should have asked for your permission,” he caresses your cheek, referring to how he came in your mouth. you shook your head. “it’s fineー i… liked it.”

“oh? how naughty,” he scolds, smoothing your messy hair down from how he gripped it earlier. “so, was this a helpful lesson, y/n? do you know nowー how to pleasure someone?”

you nodded. “really insightful. thank you, neuvillette. but…”

“but?”

“maybe... you can teach me what an orgasm feels like next?”

“i see. i will gladly indulge.”

ー @yuki-world

[phoenix--flying]

TA Week day 3; Monster @titan-army-week

snippets from a silly little au bc i couldnt be bothered to make it all a lil fic <3333

a lil preface; Lee and Alabaster are both minor gods, Cledones and Atalus are their godly names and epithets of their parents :D Alabaster is a disgraced god who is no longer welcome <33

Luke is a mortal, as are most of his crew, Ethan is a descendant of a god and Alabasters sole worshipper now 🤗

┊ ┊⋆ ┊┊

The god hummed, hardly batting an eye at the corpse laying at his feet as he surveyed the rest of the crew. His lips quirked into an amused smile. "By the gods, it is a surprise to run into you here old friend."

"Shut it sun ray." Alabaster snapped.

He clicked his tongue. "Come now, don't be so crass. It has been far too long, no?"

"It'll be longer if I have anything to say about it."

Cledones eyes flashed, and the kind act he'd held up so far fell. "Is that a challenge I hear? Quite a surprise."

A smug grin played his lips. "Besides, you and I both know challenging me would be, ah, unwise, Atalus." His gold eyes flashed green briefly, and the air grew tense as Alabaster inhaled sharply. "I could paint this deck with your blood in a second, do not test me."

He tilted his head, chuckling softly. "Or perhaps your little pet here. He seems quite obedient. Your only worshipper, hm Atalus?"

"Don't you dare touch Ethan-"

"Well perhaps you should back down then. You should know by now all these outbursts of yours only end badly, must I remind you of Laoites?"

┊ ┊⋆ ┊┊

Luke straightened, meeting the pure gold eyes of the god in front of him. "I want you to transport us home."

Lee quirked an eyebrow. "Us?" He clicked his tongue, getting up from where he'd been lounging, the sun bent around him, shining in a way that made his hair look like pure gold. "Darling, there is no us, was I not clear? I meant you. Just you."

His eye twitched. Of course.

His hand cupped Luke's jaw tilting his head up so he could see a look that mimicked worry. "I know you're in a hurry to return to your mother, won't you let me help you pet?"

┊ ┊⋆ ┊┊

Lee hadn't shown himself for weeks, which had Luke wondering if the god had been the one to blame for his sudden sickness, but, he appeared in his cabin when he started feeling better.

Something was very wrong. Luke didn't need to know much about the god to know that, Lee seemed...scared. Staring at Luke as he stepped into the door as if he'd vanish.

It was...off. Cledones was usually calm, occasionally aggressive, but he was relaxed, walking among the crew as if he wasn't responsible for several of their deaths, as if he wasn't a child of the sun itself. But now, now he seemed downright frantic.

"Is everything okay?" He asked carefully, not wanting to do anything to earn Cledones ire. But his words seemed to spur the god into action, as of confirming that Luke was, in fact, here and not some fake.

Lee rushed forward, hands ghosting along Luke's jaw, obviously wanting to hold him but hesitant, as if the man would fade into nothingness the second he did.

But it couldn't have been. Right? His name was Luke, not Promachus.

After a few moments of silence, he placed his hands on Luke's face, letting out a shuttering breath. "Promachus." He whispered softly, as if the act of saying it was painful.

Logically, Luke knew that wasn't his name, as well as he knew that Lee wasn't Cledones' name. But when Lee said it, he felt a twinge of recognition, part of him telling him that, yes, this was his name.

He'd heard that name before, the son of champions, who'd faded not long before Luke himself was born. The other god was usually intwined with Cloedones. Their relationship was never clear in the stories, but the pain and sorrow, the longing, in Lee's voice as he said the name told Luke everything he needed to know.

┊ ┊⋆ ┊┊

Beside him, the girl let out a choked noise, before crumbling to the ground, an arrow sticking out of her throat. Another fell before Lee sighed heavily. "Must you put on such a show?"

"You're taking too long." Lukes head snapped up to see a boy, younger then him - or he appeared younger - standing near the wheel of the ship, holding an arrow as he fidgeted with the fletching.

"Perhaps, but you know I am not one for bloodshed, Hecatus."

"Bloodshed or not, this plague of yours takes a long time to take effect."

"To kill, brother, not to take effect. That was the idea, of course. They have killed and eaten fathers cattle, should I give them mercy? Of course not."

Brother. Luke glanced between the two of them, Hecatus, Shooter from Afar. Which...made a lot of sense considering the boy he currently had slung on his shoulder and had shot two of his crew members.

He clicked his tongue, shaking his head. Luke could imagine him rolling his eyes if they weren't pure gold like Cledones were. "So patient."

"Of course I am. I must deal with you somehow, no?"

[forever-fixating]

Some Sentences Monday?

Tagged by the ever-awesome @priincebutt

Okay, so I know this is meant for Sundays, but ya boi was destroyed from work and completely overstimulated so I had nothing in the tank. But after hibernating most of today, I am emerging ready to share a new project I have in the works. Getting such amazing response for Love on the Menu has really invigorated my desire to work, and now my mind is running with ideas. I've been toying with the idea of writing a historical AU for a while now, so allow me to introduce:

I don't have an official summary for it yet, but to overhype myself, this story has everything: childhood sweethearts separated by tragedy, rivaling nations full of political intrigue, magick because I've been dying to write a fantasy AU as well so por que no los dos, a tournament where the grand prize of the joust is the hand in marriage of our sweet Henry, a cliffhanger that I am so excited to write but that I know will enrage everyone that reads it...get ready, yall!

Below the cut is a massively long teaser. Forgive the roughness of it. I am just so geeked to share it, but just know I'll be working on it until it's ready. Enjoy! (If you'd like a soundtrack for this, might I suggest Surrender by Natalie Taylor?)

The air was perfumed with the scent of springtime blossoms. Beneath the shade of a great willow tree were two young lovers. One was flaxen-haired, his ivory skin rosy from the sun and littered with constellations of freckles. His body and limbs were slender and knobbly, still in that awkward phase between boy and man. His light blue eyes studied his companion with unguarded adoration. The other young man was shorter in stature, but rigorous exercise had already defined his physique. Atop his head was an untamed mass of sable curls, still wet from swimming. His unblemished skin gleamed a rich russet shade that his fairer companion couldn't stop touching. The pair had completed their lessons for the day and decided to take a refreshing dip in the lake near their school. They were naked, hidden among the willow branches, like two woodland nymphs from a fable and not two princes from separate nations. The dark-haired boy Alex lifted his lover Henry's hand and kissed the signet ring on his pinkie finger. The ring's face held not a family crest but their initials. A promise.

"When we are married-"

"You mustn't say such things!" Henry laughed even as his stomach fluttered at the very prospect. "It isn't proper."

Alex leaned down to press a kiss against rose-petal lips. "A man must state his intentions plainly, and mine are to marry you, cariño."

"You are not yet seventeen, cariad," Henry said as Alex trailed kisses along his jaw and neck. In this sacred space, it was easy to get lost in the rose-tinted fantasy of their future together. He tangled his fingers in Alex's curls, tugging at the roots. "Our parents would say it is unwise to speak of such things at our age."

"Why," Alex hissed as he climbed over Henry's body, "are you mentioning our parents when I am trying to ravish you?"

Henry arched his body into that of his beloved, gasping, "You have ravished me twice already this afternoon. Is that not enough?"

"Never."

As the twin suns began their steady descents into the horizons, the young lovers got dressed and made their way back to the school. Fireflies glowed in hues of pink, orange, and yellow as the pair discussed their plans for the following day. Given their disheveled states of dress, they were wary of running into Headmistress Beaufort or one of their professors as they made their way back to their dormitory. Unfortunately, fate was not on their side, and they rounded a corner and nearly crashed into Professor Wagner. He was a squat toad of a man who taught history and hated Alex for his frequent interruptions during lessons. His face held a perpetual bitter expression, as though he had just sucked on an unripen lemon. He berated them for looking and acting beneath their station and gave them detention for the following fortnight working in the stables with Gerald the groundskeeper. (It wasn't the punishment the man thought it was. They enjoyed Gerald's company, especially when he was joined by Julian, the music professor. Henry was convinced they were in love, but Alex said he was delusional.)

They scrambled upstairs to their shared dorm room to change. Dinner was already in progress when they joined their social set in the dining hall. Alex's older sister June was discussing a novel with Henry's twin sister Beatrice while their best friends Percy and Nora played cards. As Henry took his spot between Bea and Pez, his sister poked at the poorly concealed love mark Alex had gifted him earlier and teased, "My dear brother, it would appear you have been mauled by pixies. Should we alert Gerald of a possible infestation?"

Alex, seated across from him between June and Nora, snorted into his goblet, and Henry kicked his skin beneath the table. Giving his sister a tight smile that told her he knew exactly at what she was playing, he said defensively, "It was only a single, annoying pixie. Hardly cause for alarm."

"Annoying?" Henry's stomach filled with regret the moment the words left his mouth at Alex's fallen expression. He looked away from Henry. "Perhaps the pixie will direct their attention elsewhere if they are such a nuisance."

Alex would not meet his eye for the remainder of the meal. Once Headmistress Beaufort dismissed the students for the evening, Alex was up like a shot. Henry felt the disapproval of their friends and loved ones as he stood and trailed after Alex like a lovesick puppy. When Henry reached the common room of their dormitory, he found Alex chatting with Liam, the son of a nobleman from his home country. While he knew there was no danger of them forming an attachment, jealousy sparked in his chest, hot and ugly. He strode over to them and said, "Alex, I wish to speak with you."

Alex's expression was that of cool indifference. "Yes?"

Ignoring Liam and tugging on Alex's arm, Henry insisted, "In private."

Alex rolled his eyes but stood, shoving past Henry to their dorm room. Henry didn't look at Liam but hurried after Alex. He passed some of their classmates roughhousing in the hallway. Alex's ire was quick to be provoked, but Henry hoped he could dampen it with gentle words of apology and a gift. Their dorm room was on the far end of the hallway to the right. When Henry entered, Alex was sitting on the window seal. Henry closed the door.

"Cariad-"

"You would be wise not to call me that right now," Alex snapped, not looking at him.

Henry bit his bottom lip. Pushing away from the door, he crossed the cross to retrieve a parcel he received earlier that day from his bedside table. Though he protested Alex's pure words down by the lake, Henry's heart ached at the very thought that Alex thought himself alone in this affection. Henry was naturally cautious when it came to matters of the heart. While his parents had a romance for the bards to write neverending songs about and supported his inclinations, his grandmother Queen Mary still held final sway over who her grandchildren would marry. While Alex's country was a rising power, full of untapped resources and potential, Mary looked down her nose at their progressive politics and rising status among the nations. But despite the perceived impossibility of their future together, Henry found himself desperately in love with Alex all the time.

Henry knelt in front of his wounded lover and placed the parcel in his lap. Alex finally looked at him before glancing down and asking, "What is this?"

"An apology and response."

Alex picked it up and tore away the plain brown paper. Revealed was a red velvet bag. Henry's heart raced as Alex opened the bag and pulled out a small golden key on a silver chain. The bow of the key, intertwined in delicate filigree, was their initials, much like the ring that rested on Henry's hand.

As Alex studied it, Henry said, "My words earlier were foolish and hurtful. The truth is that I am afraid of the end of term. Things as they are now seem too perfect and golden. I...I fear once we are parted, reality will make you realize I am not worthy, that you will find someone more suitable for-"

"You believe me to be easily swayed?" Alex snapped. Henry looked up to see frustration and sadness in his eyes. He reached down to yank Henry's hand that held the signet ring to eye level. "Is this not proof enough of my love for you? Is it not enough that I say I love you? If this is an apology, it is a very poor one, Henry."

Henry climbed on the window seal with Alex, desperate to be understood, tears in his eyes. "It is an explanation. I am scared, Alex. I know we are young, but I know in my heart I will never feel for another what I feel for you. But when my grandmother finds out about us, she will stop at nothing to keep us apart. Does that challenge not give you pause?"

"Cariño," Alex whispered, cupping Henry's face, the necklace dangling from his fingers, "I would slay a thousand dragons, cross the Great Salt Desert, and brave the bitterest frozen peaks if that's what it took to make you mine. You may fear your grandmother, but I do not. There is no one else for me but you."

Henry took the chain from Alex's hand and placed it around his neck. Pressing his hand over the key, Henry said, "As you are for me. I want to be brave like you. I want you to know you are not alone. This key is a symbolic gesture, the key to my heart. My promise to be true."

Two young lovers, bathed in moonlight and their love for one another, making a vow as true as the gods had ever heard. Perhaps it was their youth that gave them pause, or the sincerity in which the vows were given. Whatever it was, the gods took note and, in their mercurial way, decided to put that devotion to the test.

The skies were clear that night as Alex and Henry clung to each other, but they could not see the storm brewing on the distant horizon. A challenge.

Tagging @dragonflylady77 @onthewaytosomewhere @theplayfulfairy and anyone else who scribbles and is interested.

[elytrafemme]

my thoughts on "we're all doomed" (by THE daniel howell <333)

warning this is a little critical but altogether written with love <3

i never gave my We're All Doomed takes i'm realizing. okay so i love daniel howell and i'm really glad that this show was healing from him, i could definitely see dystopia daily and the pieces he's discussed of his scrapped (via YouTube's fuck ups) comedy special within the show itself. i thought that the set design/music/lights was fucking INCREDIBLE and i adored the opening segment, the ending of act 1 monologue, and the ending of the show overall.

that being said, i think the show was not like... narratively cohesive? it was a lot of segments that didn't really logically follow from one another, and they would range from being genuinely funny to going on for entirely too long (the judge segment being his favorite shocked me because... Uh). the ending of act one didn't really roll over into the start of act two in a way that made sense to me-- it set me up for an entirely different direction of act two that i think i would have maybe preferred? similar with the wardrobe change, it was gorg and i understood what he was going for but it didn't really hit as well as it could because i think it was mistimed.

my main complaint, which will not be well-received for anyone who cares deeply about this due to the fact that WAD was distinctly a comedy special, is the fact that i'm like... a leftist? and i know daniel howell is in his own rich-British-white-man way, but a lot of the "takes" confused me because i couldn't tell if he was genuinely trying to make a strong argument as a left-wing person (in which case i think i'm allowed to have respectful criticism of it) or if it was supposed to lean heavy on the satire (in which case ???). obviously this is no critical commentary/cancellation of him as a person, he's great and has done SO much good in the world, i'm not trying to imply he's the worst or whatever. it was just funny because me and my friend (also a leftist) kept squinting at the camera being like... okay dan this is an... interesting argument. this majorly happened in the last segment, when he just did the costume change and tried to talk about global events and he made a VERY good argument but gave us hell along the way because at several points it almost became the worst take ever (trying to relate global events to things in his personal life was definitely like... a decision. for sure.)

in any case, i did adore it, if only for the segments i listed above that i liked. the fan reacts were cute (we couldnt' get ours to work :( ), i fucking LOVED the orange carpet before the show and the Q&A after. me and my friend had a really good time, and i can't wait for what he works on next. also i might cave and buy merch but that depends on how unwise my other purchases this month are.

overall: i have 48 hr access to it but i don't intend to rewatch any part of it, i am glad i watched it at all though and i am left with fond feelings about daniel howell knowing how much the show meant to him-- i've been in that dark place and having that hope means SO much. ultimately though, i didn't love the political commentaries sprinkled throughout, but the show was good. proud of him.

[wench-and-jezebel]

NCIS Reaction: Seadog

Wench (@scripted-downfall) reacts [with (maybe) occasional asides by Jezebel (@typicalopposite)]

Love this song [Same :)]

Rude.  They turned it off [So very! ☹️]

Rude apathetic person suddenly got way less apathetic

Dude, no shit, they probably fell off the boat when they got shot

Actually watching the intro this time… Heya, Tony.  Abby continues to be adorable.  (Yes, I know we've seen that scene but shhh)  [I always liked it]

Weatherly looks so different without the glasses

YES.  AVOID THE SEMINARS

Being rude to Tony againnnn :(

He's so happyyyyyyy

Buddy, just call shotgun earlier.  It's called being quick on the... draw.  HAH.  Hah.  Get it?  Do… Jezebel, do you get it?  [*silence*]

Dude, Tony was doing something alskdjf  Leave him be

Oh, we've got the obligatory scold-the-local-law-enforcement-officer scene. (To be clear... I get the point but also.  So strategically unwise.  They kinda need the locals’ assistance, and that’s a quick way to get booted off the case, I’m about 99% sure.)

laksjdf Not Tony flirting with the reporter to get her number

[Ducky you savage] !!!

All the under-his-breath asides about that cop alkdsjf

I love Ducky's hat

And we've got cash

If they do not stop being jerks to Tony-

Mary Celeste?  Ghost Ship-vibes

That wasn't the point, Kate, don't be obtuse.  [☠️☠️☠️]

I appreciate characters who compulsively fiddle --- so much like me, fr --- so Tony's flipping the pen is great

Poor Ducky

alskdfjalkdsjf Duckyyyyyy [I love himmmmm]

Oh no not the anti-drug programme.  I swear, people running anti-drug-programmes in these shows always get mixed up in actual drugs, and are usually innocent

"You five-0, ain't you?"  Wrong show, actually :)

Man legit just climbed the fence

Leave.  Tony.  Alone.  Plz.

"Untied States" alksdjfalksdfj  Whoops

Gibbs, I recognize that you think you're hot shit, but you don't have to be an ass to everyone [😂😂😂😂]

ABBY SIGNS!!! YOU'RE AWESOME, MY DEAR!  [YESSSS]

Her hair's more lab-accurate this time

Poor Tony :(

I love the name Jethro, it must be said

Reporter chick's not wrong

Poor Tonyyyyyy

HE'S LEARNING SIGNNNNN (...ish)

– – –

Be proud of me: I actually remembered the midpoint reaction!  Woot woot!

I continue to enjoy the show…  Not a fixation-worthy enjoyment yet, but I like it.  Abby and Tony are still head-and-shoulders above the rest; then Ducky.  Kate kinda annoys me, and, tbh, so does Gibbs.  Writing has been decent --- yards better than CSI, which I regret knowing --- and acting's been decent (as far as I noticed)... Plotlines haven't been bad.  Again, there's some iffy writing in terms of the actual cases --- I'm looking at you, parachute-death-last-episode --- but I haven't noticed any quite yet this episode.

Tony continues to be picked on more than is deserved.  (You know, I might be fine with this if it were more evenly shared, but --- like with Alec in Dark Angel --- it's mainly just reserved for Tony.  Maybe even more so, since there was at least Sketchy to share the picking-on in DA, but there's no one else here.  [Once McGee is on it’s kind of a someone picks on Tony Tony picks on McGee situation]  See, now that’s not bad!  At least it's-  I legit almost wrote consensual, but I *meant* mutual.  Although, technically, ig, it’s both.  [And it’s hilarious because once Ziva comes on McGee tries to do the same to her but she’s just like no]  Oh nooooo.  Guess I’ll see that when it happens.  Love triangle, perhaps?  I kid, I kid.  Unless…?

Also, Kate and Gibbs both come across as very... I'll say self-confident, but that's putting it nicely.  More like arrogant.  They've got the same "I know what I'm doing" mentality that annoys the crap out of me in Max (DA), Sam (SPN), et al.  And Gibbs has that whole I-don't-have-to-explain-myself-ever-because-I'm-hot-shit enigmatic thing working, and that always pisses me off too; like, just fricking talk, okay???? You've got a team; just freaking use it!

Aight… grabbing water and then continuing.  (See, look, I don’t just drink coffee!)

– – – 

Ya girl’s being healthy and fetched an actual dinner too, which is truly shocking… but now I’m ready, so!  Onward we go!

Rolly tray

Y'all didn't have to do the reverse-Miranda-rights like that but, also, kudos to Tony for the sarcasm in the process

Once again; talk to your fricking teammmm

Tony, Tony, Tony... Your sarcasm is gonna get you in trouble soon

^x2

GIBBS IS SITTING ON THE AUTOPSY TABLE AGAIN.  (That cannot be sterile)

I can't tell if those two are helping each other or tearing their business down; it might well be both

Puppy!!!

Okay, I swear, now they're comparing Alec-character to dogs again; whyyyy

They made the same joke in Dark Angel.  Twice [☠️😂]

[☠️☠️☠️☠️☠️☠️☠️  The whine.  THE WHINE ☠️☠️☠️ Poor dog]

[Pew pew pew]

STOP WITH THE DOG COMPARISON, HOLY HELL  [He (Tony) looked up]  I’m sorry, but what does it say about how you treat your coworkers/subordinates that they’ll answer to dog whistles.  This is worse than DW!Mickey and K-9  :(

Poor Tony lkajsdf

Poor Tony (again) not getting to interview the girls :(  aksjdflkasjdf :)

Not the “low on testosterone or gay” plz

TONY GETS TO INTERVIEW THE GIRLS

Oh, the feeb’s being an asshole too

WHY IS THIS THE SECOND OF THREE EPISODES CONCERNED WITH TERRORISM!  WHAT IS THIS, 24?!?!  [A lot are I think.. it’s a military show ☠️]  Yeah, well, it’s not a counter-terrorism show!!!

That was President Logan!!!  His actor always plays sketchy people, but I love him anyway, ngl

“Chutzpah” is such a good word

IS THAT BELLE?!!?  OH MY GOD, IS THAT BELLE?!?!?  IT IS!!!  OH MY FRIGGING GOD, EMILIE MY BELOVED!!! 

[I love the accent]  ikr.  My sister hates Australian accents, but idk why

idk if that guy was hugging or injured, ngl

Tony's flirting actually worked!  I had no doubt; serves them right for giving him shit about it!

Ngl, this whole conversation is just Tony’s version of Alec-vs-Max: “I’m thinking.”  “You’re talking.”  “I can do both!”  “I doubt that.”

Go on, Tony, show 'em up for their doubts

Abbyyyyyy

Kate's annoying  [Fun fact she’s blonde. She had to dye her hair EVERY DAY]  Dedication from the actress changes nothing about my (current) dislike for the character alskdjf

"You're holding out on us!  That is not nice!"  Abby, my beloved

(scandalized): TONY

(scandalized): ABBY

Match made in... well, maybe not Heaven, but-

Y’all, can we stop the annoying teasing-about-relationships-and-flirting stuff?  This is going on too long to be not-serious, and it’s annoying.

I. I think we might have found a show that has more terrorist activity than 24.  And that’s centered around the Counter-Terrorism Unit.  What the bloody hell.  [😂😂😂😂]

Kate’s still being annoying

"He could just be doing his job"  Yeah, the gun really sells that.  Definitely just your ordinary power guy.

"Phone's got detonators"  I'm shocked.  It's almost like the plan was to detonate stuff.

The lights are on!!!  Hell yeah!!!

Okay, but that background noise *cannot* be good for that recording

Y'all are a bit.  Close.  Wanna... take a step back there?

Whoa, first names.  Is that allowed???

Isn't this the second time he's been picked up by this chick?

Thus is it finished!

– – –

Aside from the probably-excessive number of terrorist attacks — literally, I’ve seen three episodes, and this is the second one with a terrorist connection — I’m still enjoying it!  Tbh, my opinion hasn’t much changed from the midpoint, so I don’t know what to add… I would say that the episode kinda… spiraled?  Like, we were still on drug-running as of after halfway through the episode, and it suddenly became a 24 episode?  Then somehow got resolved really quickly?  But, pacing issues aside, it wasn’t bad!  And that’s basically the only opinion shift from halfway through, so.  There ya go!

‘Til next time!

[holdmecloser-gandydancer]

Oh wait shit okay one more one more

20. very special package goes to the wrong address please explain everything they cannot rest until they understand and blupjeans pleeeeaaaasssseeee 🙏🏽

From this prompt list! (Still accepting!)

--

Lup’s normally not one to snoop through another person’s mail. Federal crime aside, it’s just not her thing. But it seems the packages at her apartment building are simply meant to never arrive to their intended participant. She’s gotten three-month supplies of protein powder meant for her burly neighbor down the hall, her art prints have gone to the stoner old man on the floor above her, and she’s even gotten the off package meant for a completely different apartment complex. But she never just tears into the mail with reckless abandon; she’s not an animal. This afternoon, though, she does just tear into the box with reckless abandon because she’s expecting a care package from Taako; she doesn’t even think about checking the address this time. She quickly realizes that she should have. Instead of being greeted with a box chock full of cheesy “someone who loves me went to Goldcliff and all I got was this lousy t-shirt” caliber items, she unwraps something far more unsettling. A quick glance at the address and she determines the recipient is the dude across the hallway from her. He’s fairly new to the building; she recalls tripping over a number of boxes last month when she was running late to work. The rational part of her brain tells her to just handle this mail mistake the same way she usually does. Normally she just drops the misaddressed mail outside the door and dips but what she just unwrapped will haunt her unless she gets some answers.

In an act some would likely and rightfully call unwise, she hastily pushes the flaps of the box closed and decides to hand deliver it; with any hope, she can get some much-needed supplementary information. She stands outside her neighbor’s door and sincerely hopes he isn’t some kind of ax murderer because she has a feeling this could easily become a motive. Before she can talk herself out of it, she tucks the box under her harm and raps four times on the door. She bounces a little on her toes as she hears at least six locks on the other side of the door. She respects the dedication to security and safety but part of her has to wonder if this is overkill. The door swings open to reveal someone who decidedly doesn’t look like an ax murderer. Her neighbor is this chubby, handsome, dude who simultaneously dresses like every man from Lup’s hometown and also like a modern Mister Rogers who’s been allowed to trade in his slacks for jeans.

“Uh, can I help you?” He asks as Lup stares at him for a few seconds.

“Yeah, are you some kind of murderer or occultist or something? I’m not one to judge but I got your package and opened it on accident because I was waiting on a different package and I feel like just seeing it is gonna put me on lists or something. Like, no offense but why the fuck do you just have dozens of doll heads in a box? That’s weird behavior,” Lup says, gesturing towards the box.

“You opened my package,” he echoes.

Lup waves her hand dismissively. “Keep up, I said it was an accident. Now,” she shifts the box so it sits comfortably in her hands, “You haven’t answered me about this macabre, Dr. Frankenstein situation you got going on in here.”

The man frowns and reaches for the box. Lup hesitates but decides that keeping his mail hostage after demanding answers isn’t exactly the vibe she’s going for on this fine Thursday afternoon. She hands it over and watches as he opens up the flaps and inspects the contents of the box. “It’s not all doll heads in here,” he says at last.

Lup rolls her eyes. “Oh forgive me for neglecting some of the headless doll bodies in there, too. Please for the love of any god tell me what’s up with that weird as shit box of stuff though.” Lup narrows her eyes as she sees him mentally weighing his options. “Bud, I live right there,” she jerks a thumb across the hall. “If you don’t tell me now, you’ll tell me eventually.”

“I’m a doll restorer.”

“Pardon?”

He shrugs his shoulders. “I restore dolls and really any other kind of toy people are looking to get back in shape. These heads are some of the most common dolls I get and sometimes it’s just easier having a new base to work from if the damage is particularly bad. Also works well for when people want specific customizations to their dolls.”

“Doll restoration. And that’s just your job?” Lup asks blankly.

He shakes his head and laughs a little. “Nah, it’s not the most lucrative thing, it’s just a passion of mine. Web development is how I keep the lights on. This is more fun though.”

“Huh. Well, I gotta say, that’s a far more reassuring answer than what I was expecting,” Lup thinks for a moment before a small smile creeps to her face. “So, when you say doll restoration, does this apply to stuffed animals too?”

He nods and smiles warmly. “Yeah! That’s actually slowly becoming my most requested service.”

“Well, I might have to employ your services sometime.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah! It might be a little lame but my brother and I both had these mongoose beanie babies when we were younger and mine has definitely seen better days. Don’t have the heart to get rid of it, though. Especially because it has a really funny poem on its tag.”

His eyes widen a little. “Wait, you said a mongoose?”

Lup nods. “Yeah.”

“You have Runner? With the mean poem?”

She grins widely. “That’s the one! You know it?”

“Of course! I uh I actually managed to track down one of my own a few years ago. I try not to collect too much but I just couldn’t resist that dude.”

Lup watches him for a moment before realizing that she’s probably wasting a good deal of his time. “Um, anyway, sorry about the confrontation, I just…it looked real weird.”

“Oh, I get it. Thanks for getting it back to me. And anytime you want me to take a look at Runner, you know where I’m at. I’m Barry, by the way.”

“Lup! Good to meet you, Barry. I ought to let you go. But I’ll be seeing you.”

Barry flushes a little bit and smiles. “Okay. Yeah, awesome. Uh, see ya around.” Almost simultaneously, Barry and Lup return to their apartments. Lup hopes to be seeing her very cute, non-murderer neighbor very soon. Purely for business purposes, of course. No other reason.

[thejustmaiden]

So out of nowhere I was tagged and quoted by a SR shipper for a blog of mine posted in August of last year. Talk about throwback but, hey, gotta appreciate that level of snooping. 😉

Back in the day I actually used to encourage discourse amongst Inuyasha fans- both shippers and antis alike- but I've since realized that it's a lost cause. But for you, @feministmetalgreymon , I'll grant this exception. Just 'cause it's been a while so why the hell not. haha

I want to assure you, however, that nothing you say will ever convince me that Sesshomaru and Rin are meant to be together romantically or that the story intended it so. Nor will you find any validation here. You can ship them for all I care, but please for all that is good and holy while I have your attention try- I mean really try- to understand why it is so many of us Inuyasha fans are so against this pairing in the first place (newsflash: it's not about ship wars), and why we believe a romance between the two of them is completely and utterly out of character.

For those of you interested in reading this, the blog of mine in question that the above shipper mentions in their counter-argument is here for reference. It's titled "Jaken = Rin's Dad?" I'm going to try and keep this short, but I'm also making no such promises. After all, I'm not exactly known for my brevity. haha Now let's get crackin'!

Like you, feministmetalgreymon, did for your recent blog here where you took screenshots of mine to address certain parts, I will be doing the same and dissecting yours accordingly.

[Snippet 1]

I worked with kids for many years as a teacher, and many people in my family have too or still do. Two of them happen to be just over 5 feet which is quite short for the average adult woman living here. I've also worked alongside many a women of short stature, and never did I hear any of them complaining of issues with their students having difficulty differentiating them from their own peers just because they were short as well. I'm sorry but that's just ridiculous. Kids are quite smart and pick up on a lot more than you seem to give them credit for. Height is not the only characteristic they look at to determine who's an adult and who's not, and it's foolish to suggest otherwise. So unless you're a babysitter who's still in their teens and/or who has very childlike features or behavior then I'm afraid what you're getting at is total hogwash. This is just another example of how you shippers offer nothing of real substance to your reasoning, it's only ever cherry-picking or strawmanning from you guys. Stop deflecting from the real issues please, because this certainly isn't one and only winds up being a complete waste of time for all parties involved.

[Snippet 2]

Okay, calm down now. I wasn't insinuating that relationships between parents and children can't change over time in terms of how they get along. Of course that's possible, as all families experience their fair share of estrangement and abuse. What I was speaking about was in reference to the overall dynamic between the two. Because a bad mother or father can still be viewed as a parental figure to their child even if say they're not in said child's life anymore. Since Sesshomaru and Rin share a healthy bond- and just a friendly reminder that in my blog I even said that he doesn't have to necessarily be labeled her father but that a romantic relationship later would still be inappropriate- I didn't deem it necessary to address what you brought up. Plus, it kinda, umm, misses the point?? Please, let's stay on topic. And it's not captured in the screenshot, but stop acting like there isn't a small part of them that idolizes their parents at some point during childhood. Just like you mention later on how it's normal for kids to have innocent crushes on adults that they eventually grow out of? Well, guess what, the same concept applies here. Kids eventually learn that their parents are far from perfect and make mistakes too. Rin is so damn young in the OG series though that we never even get to see her reach that maturity level.

[Snippet 3]

LOL! Alright, okay, so the "unbreakable bond" bit you're mentioning was actually me quoting you sessrinners. Did you not catch that? I literally spelled it out. *sigh* The whole point I was making is that shippers like yourself make hypocritical and contradictory statements all.the.goddamn.time. One moment you guys claim that Sesshomaru and Rin were essentially strangers and meant very little to each other, only to say in the same breath a few seconds later that they were destined to be together and their bond is like no other. I agree, their bond is special, but why must that mean they're going to fall in love?

That is the root of the matter here. Too many animes/mangas have romanticized this older adult man & young girl growing up falling in love trope that it's become way too normalized and widely accepted across the world- and yes, in some cultures more than others. Sadly, you lack the awareness to recognize how this all works. You know how we know that? When we see that you shippers are so desensitized to sexualized images of girls in the media that you share posts like this one below which *subtly* imply a future romance although one half of that pairing is still just a child in the pic and then try and pass it off as cute. That's like super fucking problematic and it scares me that you can't see that (or deny you do). 🤢

After all that's said and done, Sesshomaru leaving Rin in the village with Kaede is to me the strongest indicator more than pretty much anything else he's done for Rin that proves he is her adoptive father. It's so funny to me how you somehow see the exact opposite though. 🤔 What I think is happening is that you got yourself on some squeaky clean ass shipper goggles fresh out of your little echo chamber. Because I hate to tell you, but what you're fantasizing is what you want to see and not what's actually there on screen or was written into the story. I'm strictly talking about Inuyasha and the manga of course. [For the TL; DR version skip to the last paragraph.]

Parents looking after their kids is what parents are supposed to do. A good parent will do anything to keep their child safe and ensure they are cared for, so what he did for her by leaving her there was in her best interests clearly. Besides, as a babysitter, you more than most people should understand that parents aren't always able to be there for their kids so sometimes others gotta step in to help. Haven't you heard of the saying, "it takes a village to raise a child?" Which in Rin's case is literally true! 😂 Sometimes kids are even sent off to stay with grandparents and that's who raises them instead. Or maybe they have to temporarily live with an aunt or uncle because their single parent's job requires they work out of town 4-5 days of the week so they're hardly home. But that doesn't mean that the parents care or love their kids any less, and it's foolish to assume that Sesshomaru must have thought very little of Rin simply due to the fact that he made the decision to leave her in the village. Come on, y'all are acting like he abandoned her there!!

It's just given the circumstances Sesshomaru finally came to learn that Rin traveling with him was no longer safe. I also like to think it's because he wished for her to live a more normal life and to learn how to fully trust humans again. Plus, continuing to travel with him as young as she was would have proven dangerous and unwise. Now for you to know all this and still manage to turn his past actions towards her while she was just a child into a romantic gesture is what boggles my mind. Regardless of how you look at it, from my perspective or your own, Sesshomaru is in the wrong. Either he's a father figure who impregnates his daughter at the young age of approximately 14. OR he's this man she used to travel with who maybe isn't a father to her but who nonetheless basically rapes her since kids her age can't consent to sex with an adult. Idk about you but it sounds to me like nobody here wins with either scenario we're given. In other words, you should be just as mad as we are. If only one side didn't choose to forsake their morals they know we both have in common for the sake of a ship. Welp. 🤷‍♀️

I agree, incest is disgusting but that's not the only problem we have with this pairing. A romantic bond forming between Sesshomaru and Rin would also constitute as grooming.

You realize that over the years he visited her in the village that he brought her gifts too and essentially watched her grow up right before his very eyes, right? I mean, I know you do, but I really shouldn't have to explain further why pursuing a romantic/sexual relationship with each other is plain and simple wrong. And before you say it's not because he didn't have any malintent, please understand that considering their history and power dynamic up to then that yes this is still considered grooming even if Rin supposedly "wanted it" or "made the first move." Whether you consider him her father or not, as the adult who took on a role resembling that of a caretaker in her early life- a critical developmental time for a child- Sesshomaru is obligated to turn down any advances by Rin and most definitely should not initiate any himself. As the first close adult figure she's had in her life since her parents died, it's unfathomable to imagine how Sesshomaru could go through with taking advantage of this young girl who was under his care and supervision since they met. To think he could be capable of betraying that trust sickens me to the core.

This. Now THIS is how a parent/guardian or a similar adult caretaker (babysitter, teacher, etc.) talks to a child. And, in turn, this is how some young children talk to adults. You'd be insane and delusional to deny it! We see it in our everyday lives, do we not? From where else do you think our stories draw most of their inspiration? Yes, obviously these fictional universes have aspects of fantasy that don't exist in the real world, but so how then do you suppose we're able to relate to them? The reason for that being is because these stories are written by people for people, so naturally there are going to be real life aspects embedded throughout. Sure, a little escapism doesn't hurt as we don't need to take everything so seriously, but ultimately we all need to recognize that the messages in the stories we tell matter. Most stories possess a combination of both light and dark themes, but when it specifically comes to the latter we gotta be careful with how we tackle this in children's media since kids are far more impressionable.

So if at the center of a story we have two of the main protagonists whose mom is basically their same age and to top it off she knew their dad when she was just a girl and who just so happened to help raise her, wouldn't you say that's beyond fucked up or at the very least so fucking weird? Like why would we think it's even remotely okay for our children to watch this garbage?? Really think about it. Try and be objective for once and think about how it would sound explaining this storyline to an outsider who's never watched IY or HNY. Well, antis have tried this before many times and we always get the same reaction: Ewww!

Like I said earlier, if you wanna ship it then fine, but 1) please stop seeking our approval or trying to change our minds - your ship wish came true didn't it, so why do you need us to validate it? 2) even though it's not canon, respect that we don't support this sequel portraying pedophilia in a positive light. It's harmful af to not only allow but glorify the continuation of sexualized images of young girls everywhere. And I shouldn't have to say this, but just because this trope is popular as you say does not make it right. Lolicon themes in the media have been an issue forever and it needs to stop. Yes, even some people in Japan or "the East" would agree. Shocker!

We're pissed off and rightfully so because Yashahime's TV rating is 14, not to mention it airs at the prime time kids in Japan watch TV after getting home from school. That's Towa and Setsuna's age, true, but if Rin being the mom when she's like only a year older than them (please don't argue w/ me about the math- antis have so far been right every time with it) is straight-up disgusting and not something we should be supporting or endorsing. Rin's a whole ass child!! Please don't start with the "but times were different then so her having kids at 15 is acceptable" argument either, because we've already debunked that and every other single excuse you guys throw at us. Besides, how or why would you expect young viewers to know these historical "facts" anyway, especially if as you suggest fiction doesn't affect reality so what does it matter? Yet here we are, arguing over a fictional show in real life almost a year and a half into the "Sesshomaru fucks?" sequel being announced. My ass, your ass, hell all our asses fiction doesn't affect reality!

Look, I do apologize if the tone of this blog came off as snippy or condescending at times. I do not wish you any ill will, it's just I'm not really sure what you expected to get out of all this besides maybe getting on my nerves perhaps. haha A lot of you shippers have been desperately scrambling to interact with us, lurking in our tags, jumping onto our posts screaming canon and getting so defensive even though you sought us out first. We've been sticking to our tags, so how about you stay in your lane too. By the way since we're on the topic, have you seen Twitter or Reddit?! SR shippers there are the actual worst and many Inuyasha fans (not just antis) have complained of not feeling welcomed to engage in fandom spaces anymore. Shippers swarm them and scare them off simply because fans don't like your ship and refuse to accept it. It's pathetic, really. No one should ever be bullied or harassed just because they don't like something you might. We're all fans of Inuyasha, aren't we? So let's act like it. Yashahime on the other hand, you guys are welcome to that pungent heap of trash. Fans have a right to criticize it too, but if you like it then good for you, so keep on liking it and don't mind us.

I'm almost done, but real quick back to Jaken! Let's not forget about how the official Yashahime website- which came out after my blog, mind you- described Jaken. This translation isn't the best one available but it's the only version a fellow anti friend could track down. They do recall a better one done by a native Japanese speaker who was also an anti, and that member confirmed that Jaken is indeed called Rin's babysitter. So you see, I was right in my interpretation. In the original post I did compare Jaken to a brother, but after talking to others (some comments can be found under said post) I did acknowledge that he's more of a reluctant babysitter who's not related. And if he's not at least a brother to Rin, then he's definitely not her father.

At the end of the day, the creator Rumiko Takahashi has the final word. Which is guess what? Hogosha. 💖 Probably should've just started out with that and saved us all the trouble, huh? Good day/night to you.

Papamaru bids you adieu now. 🤞

[robininthelabyrinth]

Spilled Pearls

- Chapter 7 - ao3 -

Lan Qiren woke up with a pounding headache and no memory of having gone to bed.

This would not have been a surprise had he been at home, as his routine was blissfully static and required no thought whatsoever – each item he needed in its proper place, each movement mapped out through years of practice, his entire body trained such that he would automatically begin to go through the necessary acts at the appropriate time and would immediately begin to feel sleepy once he started the sequence – but it was highly notable that such a thing would occur while he was out of the Cloud Recesses, where each day’s sleep would only be the same in terms of the time at which he fell asleep.

In this case in particular, he also felt sore all over – his head, as mentioned, but also his upper arms and, oddly, his right knee. Had he been exercising unwisely? The bed in the room he had been given at the Sun Palace was not that nice, too hard and unyielding, but it wasn’t enough to cause this sort of aching…

“I will see to it that the next bed lives up to your stringent standards.”

Lan Qiren’s eyes shot open and he sat upright at once: that was Wen Ruohan’s voice.

“What are you doing in my –” he started to say, then stopped.

Wen Ruohan was not in his bedroom.

He wasn’t in his bedroom.

He didn’t even recognize this bedroom.

It was massive, for one thing: a full suite, the way the hanshi was back at home, with place for a bed and a table and plenty more besides. The bed was similar in style to the one in the room he had been assigned but larger in scale – made of dark wood and covered in the red sun motif like all the other décor, but over twice as broad and an extra chi in length, and the brocade fabric used to upholster it was considerably more lush and luxurious and, admittedly, more comfortable than what he’d been sleeping on in the Sun Palace’s guest quarters. The room itself was the same, decorated in luxury extending to the point of opulence: there was a painting scroll on one wall that if genuine would be worth more than everything Lan Qiren owned put together, young master of a Great Sect or not, and on the other wall hung six swords, each more glorious than the next, and he suspected if he knew more about weaponry he would be able to recite their names.  Even the red sun that was painted on every ceiling here glittered with embedded rubies and spiritual stones, emanating pure qi – a tremendous waste, each one of them sufficient to be a cultivation sect’s precious treasure.

Amidst all this luxury, Wen Ruohan was sitting not far away from the bed, a book held loosely in his hands – it was as if he’d been waiting for Lan Qiren to awaken.

“I think you’ll find, in fact,” Wen Ruohan said, and his eyes were glittering the way they had been the day before when it had been Lao Nie he’d been looking at, full of malice and self-indulgent amusement, “that this is my bedroom.”

This was not a surprise, but rather the only logical conclusion.

Not that it explained why Lan Qiren was here.

“Did I – fall asleep?” he asked uncertainly, though surely that must be the reason. “And you – brought me here?”

“You did, and I did,” Wen Ruohan confirmed, and seemed amused for some reason. “What’s the last thing you remember?”

Lan Qiren wracked his brain, which was hurting and unhelpful and slower even than its usual plodding pace. “…I was thinking that liquor tastes vile.”

Wen Ruohan’s smile broadened. “Mm. It seems that you inherited your grandfather’s head for wine.”

Lan Qiren’s grandfather was one of the elders who refused to obey the rule against alcohol. He had also, in his later years, developed a most un-Lan-like fondness for wine.

He had not at any point developed a tolerance for it.

Lan Qiren closed his eyes in a wince. He must have made a complete fool of himself!

“This foolish junior apologizes to the Sect Leader for his misbehavior,” he said. He wanted to lift his hands to salute, but the movement, when he started it, set off his stomach, and he was forced to wrap his arms around his midsection instead.

There was a rustling sound, robes moving as Wen Ruohan rose to his feet, but Lan Qiren kept his eyes stubbornly closed, fearing that any further input would cause him to bring up everything he’d consumed the night before – only to open them in shock a moment later when he felt a finger press against the acupoint between his eyes, a warm stream of spiritual energy pouring in to cleanse away the nausea and pain of his headache.

Of his hangover.

He had a hangover.

Wen Ruohan, the mighty Sect Leader Wen, was providing him with medical attention to deal with his hangover.

There weren’t going to be words for how much he was going to get punished when he got home.

“Thank you, Sect Leader Wen,” Lan Qiren croaked, feeling hot all over with unending mortification. He had truly been foolish to think that just because there was only one night left in the Nightless City there was little danger of him repeating the mistakes of the past – he had no face left to speak of.

“Oh, no need to be so formal,” Wen Ruohan said, drawing out the words in a drawl. “Not after such a memorable night.”

Lan Qiren did not want to know what he did to make the night get described as memorable. He did not.

Especially not since Wen Ruohan was so obviously enjoying himself over it.

Of course, he wasn’t an idiot: he might be slow and bad at social cues, might find it difficult to understand the unspoken or keep up with sarcasm, but even he knew what was being implied here.

An older man with a younger one, liquor shared, a bedroom…

Yes, he understood the implication.

He just wasn’t stupid enough to believe it.

Lan Qiren folded his hands together and held his head up high.

“It is good that the Sect Leader did not take insult at my foolishness,” he said stiffly. “I thank you for your care and attention, and regret the burden I placed upon you.”

If anything, Wen Ruohan looked even more amused. “Such dignity, little Lan. You’re not even going to ask what happened?”

“This junior is only sixteen,” Lan Qiren said, still stiff and icy. “There is nothing that could have taken place without Sect Leader Wen’s approval, and naturally Sect Leader Wen would not permit this junior to offend his dignity.”

There, he thought with some satisfaction. That neatly turned the situation around: even if something untoward had occurred, which honestly Lan Qiren did not believe past that first initial moment of panic – even putting aside the fact that he wasn't anywhere near sore enough for something like that to have occurred, Wen Ruohan was not known to succumb easily to lust, nor was he so eager for war that he would recklessly try to deflower the son of another Great Sect while the latter was intoxicated for the first time – the blame would fall squarely on Wen Ruohan’s head, not Lan Qiren’s.

Wen Ruohan laughed, understanding perfectly well what Lan Qiren meant.

“You would think so,” he said, sounding almost approving of Lan Qiren’s rule lawyering. “I would have thought so, too, but I find that you Lan have truly remarkable arm strength…especially when trying to keep your conversational partner from escaping while you explain the difference between what the Lan sect consider to be fundamental rules and those considered ancillary.”

Lan Qiren blanched.

That was worse than what he’d thought – because unlike the notion of him making unwanted advances (or receiving them, for that matter), it was plausible. Terribly, painfully plausible.

“Oh, yes. All five iterations of the debate.”

Oh no.

“Four sect discussions. Seventeen separate texts on the subject, not counting later commentaries. Sixty-four subsidiary rulings, all of which you were very enthusiastic in recounting - and here I was thinking that your Wall of Discipline had a surfeit of rules, when in fact it was only the beginning. Apparently, I underestimated you.”

Lan Qiren buried his face in his hands as if that would make it stop. 

“Still, I suppose I’ll have to accustom myself to hearing more about the rules in the future,” Wen Ruohan mused. “We’ll be spending far more time together, after all, on account of our sworn brotherhood.”

Lan Qiren looked up and opened his mouth, then stopped.

He had nothing to say.

His mind was absolutely blank, a state which had never before occurred.

“Forgive me,” he finally spat out. “Our – what?”

Wen Ruohan smiled at him with eyes full of poison and a mouth full of teeth.

“Sworn brotherhood,” he said casually, as if it was nothing. “You were saying that you regretted not being able to see more of the Nightless City before you left, and that you could only leave the Cloud Recesses to visit family, so we became sworn brothers.”

“We did not.”

“Oh, but we did,” Wen Ruohan said. “We drank mixed wine and swore all the appropriate oaths – I have the written version here, if you’d like to see.”

The piece of paper he put in front of Lan Qiren was recognizably in Lan Qiren’s own hand, although his normally impeccable calligraphy was rather wobbly. It was still readable, though, and the first few clauses very clearly laid out a sworn brotherhood oath.

Lan Qiren stared at it.

“We – but we can’t be sworn brothers,” he said blankly. “We’re – you’re two generations older than me. Am I supposed to call you da-ge?”

“No one has called me da-ge since my youngest brother died,” Wen Ruohan mused, and Lan Qiren was abruptly reminded of the rumors, never confirmed, that that particular death had come at Wen Ruohan’s own hands following a challenge for the seat of sect leader. “It’ll be very charming, I’m sure.”

“But…”

Wen Ruohan said nothing, but only smiled at him.

Lan Qiren looked down at the paper.

He didn’t understand what was happening.

He tried to go over it again in his mind: he had left the competition when the celebration had started, he had wandered the halls, he had tried to obey his brother’s instructions in avoiding Wen Ruohan, and when that failed, he had obeyed him in trying to be obedient. He had drunk liquor for the first time, and he had no memory thereafter until he had woken up here and now, in Wen Ruohan’s bedroom, with Wen Ruohan saying that they had –

He didn’t think Wen Ruohan was teasing him over this, though. Not the way he had so obviously been with his implications that they had used the bedroom for purposes other than sleeping.

Not with evidence, written in his own hand.

He didn’t understand.

How could this have happened?

“…did we really?” he whispered, half-hoping against hope that it was still a tease, still a joke, still – something, anything, other than what it was. That Wen Ruohan was just waiting for him to declare that he believed him, to demonstrate dismay, and then he would tell him the truth.

“Yes,” Wen Ruohan said instead, inexorable. “We did.”

Lan Qiren’s mind fell into chaos.

He didn’t understand.

He didn’t understand.

“You’re shaking,” Wen Ruohan observed. “Ah, little Lan – don’t tell me it’s now that you’re scared?”

Lan Qiren’s hands were in fact shaking, he observed, and he put them over his face.

“Why would you do that?” he asked, his whole body starting to rock back and forth in his distress. “Why would you – with me – an oath of brotherhood can’t be taken lightly –”

“It can’t be,” Wen Ruohan said, and for some reason he sounded satisfied. “Certainly not for someone like you, little Lan, who always keeps their word and does not lie.”

“But why?” Lan Qiren asked, his voice rising almost into a plaintive wail. “Our sects aren’t even allies.”

“They are now,” Wen Ruohan said, and put his hand on the back of Lan Qiren’s neck. It felt hot against his skin, like a hot stone used for massage – a little too hot to tolerate for very long. “You know the obligations of a sworn brother oath as well as I. My duty as the elder brother is to guide you and care for you, support you and yours, and in return you are to obey me and be guided by me.”

Did Wen Ruohan want a spy in the Lan sect? Lan Qiren wondered wildly. But surely there were easier ways than this – not only would he make a terrible spy, with his clumsiness and his terrible social skills and his inability not to take everything seriously, but it would be simple enough for his sect to counter such a move. All they would need to do would be to cast him out…

His rocking intensified.

Wen Ruohan brought his other arm around him and pulled him close until Lan Qiren’s forehead, with its forehead ribbon still firmly in place, was pressed against his chest.

“Don’t cry, little brother,” he crooned. “Am I to allow a priceless painting to be kept by those that see it only for its use as spare kindling? A peerless treasure sword left to prop up a door?”

“You have a half-dozen swords hanging on your wall, each more priceless than the next, and all of them rusting away for lack of use!” Lan Qiren cried out. “Even if it’s only a door, at least it’s – it’s my – my brother…”

“Do not worry about your brother, undeserving as he is of your sincerity. Qingheng-jun has been trying to get concessions out of me this entire conference,” Wen Ruohan said. His breath was warm against Lan Qiren’s hair. “I’ve been refusing, but now I’ll grant them. He won’t punish you.”

“That’s not how that works. Punishment isn’t inherently bad; it’s meant to correct and guide the individual – the failure of good conduct will always be my own, no matter the result –”

“What I have taken into my hand, no one yet lives who would dare seek to take away,” Wen Ruohan said. “Anyway, it’s too late to regret now, isn’t it? What’s done is done. Don’t you have a rule like that?”

Lan Qiren sniffed. “No. There are at least four that could potentially qualify as having similar underlying meanings, but none directly on point.”

Wen Ruohan huffed. “Little Lan, if I tore out your heart, would you have time to cite one of your sect rules before you died?”

“…maybe if it was a short one?” Lan Qiren said, blinking at the strange question; his lashes brushed against Wen Ruohan’s lapel. “I mean, there’s a difference between ‘Be loyal and filial’ and ‘Set the wise as your teacher and the moral as your example’, isn’t there? And of course you’d have to consider whether in tearing out the heart you impeded the lungs, and how much time it would take the exsanguination to take effect…”

He was calming down, he realized, and pulled back out of Wen Ruohan’s arms, blushing as he realized that the question must have been meant as a distraction, though how Wen Ruohan had realized that a distraction would be the best way to reduce his distress when even he hadn’t known, he had no idea.

“Thank you for your consideration,” he mumbled, ducking his head in embarrassment.

Wen Ruohan started laughing.  

“Truly I have found an unappreciated treasure, unlike any other,” he said amid his chuckles. “Come along, little Lan. Let’s go break the news to your brother.”

[the-ferocious-kittyrose]

Rewriting Haggar/Honerva’s redemption arc

One of the many things that bothered me about VLD S8 is Honerva’s redemption arc. While I was never fully against the idea of Honerva getting a redemption arc, I just didn’t want VLD to do it because I knew that they would fuck it up if they tried. And low and behold, I was right!

But yeah, I wasn’t against the idea of her being redeemed. And I don’t mean “redeemed” as in “all is forgiven and she’s just a good guy now,” but more like a Darth Vader, “the things she did were inexcusable and she would never be able to right all her wrongs but she goes out on one good act to show that there was still good in her deep down and she at least had the potential to change.”

I know a lot of people don’t like the whole, “redemption=death” thing, which I understand, but I personally never had a problem with it.

Ok, so why didn’t Honerva’s redemption work? Well there are a few reasons but the one that baffles me the most is that, instead of trying to make her more sympathetic, season 8 seemed to go out of its way to show her being more evil and vile than ever.

And because I have nothing better to do, I’m gonna go through Honerva’s story in VLD and explain what I would change to make her redemption more believable.

(Keep in mind I am not a writer, this is just me ranting about my favorite character and how I personally would’ve written her.)

1. Realizing she’s Altean

I always thought it’s was weird that when Allura said “you’re...Altean!?” In the S2 finale, Haggar didn’t seem to react at all, she just kept attacking. It’s as if she didn’t care or already knew, which doesn’t make sense considering in the S3 finale and S8E2 it’s established that Haggar has no memory of who she was before she died. And in S4E3 she seems shocked by her Altean face (which also doesn’t make sense because her blue skin isn’t camouflage that’s just how she looks after the rift) so it seems like she didn’t know.

Wouldn’t it have made more sence if after Allura said “you’re...Altean!?” Honerva looked confused/shocked? If she became defensive and said Allura was lying/trying to insult her? There’s def anti-Altean propaganda in the empire so it would be considered an insult.

After that she starts questioning Zarkon. And when she looks into his mind, it’s out of genuine curiosity and desire to know the truth, not because, “the empire needs him” or whatever that meant.

And isn’t it a bit odd that she doesn’t seem betrayed at all when she finds out Zarkon has been keeping all this from her? She’s just like, “oh, you’re my husband? Cool.” Wtf???

2. Her past relationship with Zarkon

Okay, I love Zonerva, but if we’re being honest, Zarkon was not the best husband. He enabled the shit out of Honerva, even when it was obvious that the rift was doing serious damage to her physical and mental health. To me, it seems like Zarkon was so blinded by the power the rift gave him that he didn’t realize/ignored the negative effect it was having on Honerva. In the same way he downplayed the negative impact the rift had on the planet.

I think that should’ve been explored more. Maybe Honerva notices that she’s been acting differently and is worried somethings wrong (think S5 Kuron). And Honerva tries to tell Zarkon that she feels strange and Zarkon just brushes it off.

And later, when Alfor visits Diaibazaal years later. Things are pretty much the same except when we sees Honerva, she is very obviously pregnant and Alfor’s there when Honerva falls and goes into labor (instead of a random quintessence seizure). Alfor and many Galran doctors try their best to save her and the baby but she dies in childbirth.

Zarkon goes ballistic. He’s yelling, throwing doctors across the room, and Alfor turns to the doctor holding Lotor and tells them to get the baby to safely, fearing Zarkon will take his grief out on the baby.

Zarkon turns on Alfor, blaming him for Honerva’s death and accusing him of letting her die so that he could get his way and close the rift. He lunges Alfor and roars at him to leave.

He spends the rest of the night grieving at Honerva’s bedside, when Kova jumps on the bed and starts gnawing on her finger trying to wake her up. This is what gives him the idea to bring her back with quintessence.

3. Her current relationship with Zarkon

I think it’s pretty safe to say that they’re relationship didn’t get better after the war began. Zarkon hid her identity and her child from her for 10,000 years and essentially used her as a tool of war. It’s pretty fucked up.

I know it’s pretty well established that Zarkon treats Haggar with more respect than his other underlings, but I feel like it would be interesting to see that change overtime. We see that after Voltron comes back, Zarkon becomes very obsessed with Voltron/Black, and he and Haggar start disagreeing more and more.

Remember the moment where one of Haggar’s druids told Zarkon Haggar said he needed to rest and Zarkon hit them with his bayard and told them, “remember who your master is”? What if, instead of a random druid, it was Haggar who he hit?

I feel like that would be a good way to show Haggar and the audience just how much Zarkon’s obsession with Voltron is affecting him, and make the audience feel a tiny bit bad for her.

Then later in season 4, when Zarkon wakes up from his coma and finds out Haggar brought Lotor back to take his place he gets pissed. He puts a price on Lotor’s head and has Haggar arrested for treason. She steals a ship, escapes, and later on meets up with Lotor’s generals.

Her and Zarkon are officially broken up and her quest to reclaim her identity and get her son back begins.

4. Oriande

I never liked the concept of chosen/sacred Alteans. The idea that some Alteans are just born more powerful than others just feels iffy. My idea of Oriande is that it’s an Altean holly land, any Altean can enter it just depends on whether or not you can pass the White Lion’s trial. Passing the trial proves that your intentions are pure and and the White Lion will bless you with power.

I didn’t like how Honerva seemed to force her way into Oriande, I think it would be more effective if she had gone through normally because, at this point, her intentions were pure. She was going there to purge herself of the dark magic corrupting her and reclaim her memories so she could go get her son back.

I also like the idea that Oriande is a sorta link to the Altean after life, and you can speak with people you’ve lost. Allura gets to speak with Alfor, and Honerva speaks with her mother.

You could also have her be confronted by the spirits of the Alteans she helped destroy. Have the weight of her past actions bear down on her. An important part of any redemption arc is acknowledging the terrible shit you’ve done in the past, and that was severely lacking in Honerva’s arc.

Another interesting thing you could do is have Honerva talk to her younger self. The one that died 10,000 years ago. This kinda thing actually happened in 80s Voltron, young Haggar appearing in Haggar’s head trying to convince her to be good again.

5. Her relationship with Lotor

Now this is where the redemption arc really falls apart. I forget who, but one of the writers said after S5 that Haggar/Honerva was motivated purely by love for her son, but man did they do a bad job of showing that.

And it would’ve been so easy to fix that problem, just have her not be horrible to him. Have them have actual civil conversations, have her protect and defend him. Don’t have her reject him as a fucking baby!

Imagine if, after Zarkon destroys Lotor’s planet, instead of immediately deciding to

exile him, Zarkon says that this is the final straw and he’s going to have Lotor executed. But Haggar speaks up to defend Him. There’s actually a scene in DOTU where Zarkon tries to kill Lotor and Haggar gets on her knees and begs for him to be spared. (Though the scene was mostly played for laughs.)

she asks for mercy and justifies it by saying it would be unwise to kill his only heir. It’s a weak argument, Lotor’s a half breed and couldn’t realistically take the throne, but Zarkon does concede, he still loves her after all, and has Lotor exiled.

And Haggar isn’t spying on him because she doesn’t trust him, but because she’s concerned for him. When Lotor confronts Haggar about sending her cronies after him, she says she knows he’s hiding something. Lotor asks if she’s threatening him, thinking she’s going to rat him out, but she says no, she’s not threatening him, she’s just trying to warn him against doing anything stupid because, with Zarkon seemingly on his death bed, the empire needs Lotor’s leadership.

At this point in the story, Haggar is questioning her loyalty to Zarkon, so I feel like it would make sense for her to be silently supporting Lotor from the shadows.

Then at the Kral Zera in season 5, It was weird to me how she was helping Lotor through Kuron while also telling him he couldn’t be emperor and trying to put Sendak on the throne. I feel like it would’ve made more sense for Sendak to just show up on his own without Haggar.

Haggar wouldn’t even be at the Kral Zera, she would just watch through Kuron.

And then we get to S6 when she actually reveals to Lotor that she’s his mom. This scene was just so poorly done. She never actually apologizes to him, she’s just like “yeah I forgot you were my kid and I never loved you, but were cool now right?” I remember when I saw S8E2 and it shows her after Lotor rejects her and she looks like she’s about to cry, I was just thinking, “this would be very emotional and sad IF she had actually apologized and made it clear that she genuinely loved him.” But she didn’t and I don’t know why!

And then we get to season 8, and of course everything in S8 is bad but Honerva’s story is particularly bad. She’s supposed to be motivated by love for Lotor yet she doesn’t act like she actually cares about him at all.

She manipulates his corpse and when she sees his gross melted body, she doesn’t even react that much. When a mother sees her child’s mutilated corpse, how do you think she reacts? Screaming? Crying?? Hurling??? But no. She’s just like, “...”

And then when she goes to the alternate reality and meets baby Lotor and he rejects her, her reaction isn’t disappointment or sadness, it’s anger and entitlement. She immediately decides, “ok, fuck this kid. Let’s destroy this reality.”

It just doesn’t make sense! This is the season you’re trying to REDEEM her! Why are you going out of your way to make her so vile?

6. Her S7-S8 plan

(Keep in mind I haven’t watched S7/S8 since they came out and barely even watched S8 to begin with, so I don’t remember some things and I can’t be bothered to rewatch them.)

Okay, starting with S7, she’s not in this season at all but in “The Ruins” the druid dude says that her final order was to hunt and destroy the Blade of Marmora. I guess it makes a certain amount of sense because she saw that it was Keith who brought Lotor’s actions to light, but that whole plot was really pointless in my opinion. (Was anybody really hoping for a rematch between Keith and that one random druid?)

If you want us to forgive Honerva for her crimes, you really shouldn’t keep adding more unnecessary crimes. It’s established that there were a lot of Galra war lords vying for power and pirates looking for money, just have it be that Kolivan got kidnapped by one of them.

Then you have her season 8 plan and I’m gonna be real with y’all, I have no idea how to fix this mess.

I feel like the basics of her plan could work. She tries to get Lotor and Sincline out of the rift but when she gets him he’s a melted corpse so the plan then becomes to use sincline to go to another reality to find a living Lotor, but opening all these rifts causes problems and the paladins have to stop her.

But all the shit with manipulating the colony Alteans, killing the White Lion, desecrating Oriande, and destroying Olkarion and entire realities, it was all so unnecessary.

Personally I would cut the colony Alteans from the story all together, there are other ways for Lotor to betray the team. It was a lazy way of making Lotor 100% evil and having Honerva manipulate them is unnecessarily cruel, especially in the season you’re trying to redeem her.

Here’s a very basic outline of how I would do this plot.

If we’re going by season 8’s logic that she needs a sacrifice to bring back Sincline, I would’ve had the Galra she killed at the Kral Zera be the sacrifice, not the White Lion. She stands on the pyramid and talks about how the empire stole her life from her and she wants revenge as she absorbs their quintessence into herself and then uses that to bring back Sincline.

Then when she finds Lotor dead she takes Sincline and uses it to go to another reality where she can be with her family.

The danger comes when she opens rifts to the other realities and rift creatures start coming out and causing damage. The paladins fight them and follow her into the rift to stop whatever evil plan she may have. Because the paladins don’t know that Haggar is now Honerva and all this is just to get Lotor back. They think this is all some plan for multiverse domination or some shit.

Meanwhile Honerva has just been rejected by little Lotor and seeing Voltron show up pushes her over the edge and they fight.

But when they find out the real reason she’s doing all this they start trying to appeal to her and convince her to give up and close the rift peacefully. And similarly to how the paladins had to sacrifice the castle to close the rifts created by the fight with Lotor, Honerva has to sacrifice herself to close the rifts.

In the end, I feel like a Honerva redemption arc could’ve worked if the writers were actually competent and actually made an effort to have her be sympathetic, but In canon, her reasoning, “If I can’t indulge in the simple joys of life, why should anybody else?” just doesn’t cut it.

It’s disappointing. VLD had so much potential. I’m thinking of just rewriting the entire series from the beginning. Hopefully putting all my thoughts out into the universe will help me move on.

[thran-duils]

Nowhere to Run (P.1)

Title: Nowhere to Run (Part One) Summary: Fem!Reader x Dark!Stony. Reader was caught unknowingly stealing from the capitol harvest and is drug to the capitol for punishment. She is offered an option to go to trial or accept work in the main government building. Upon her tour, she ends up in trouble and catches eyes of two of the Master Council that decide she needs to be broken in by their hands. Words: 1,847 Warnings: Non-con, servitude, forced orgasms, verbal and emotional abuse

Author’s Notes: I don’t intend for this to be a super long series. This chapter is setting up the non-con to come. Read at your own risk, 18+ as always. Also, the picture under the cut is the mood in the world that I am seeing; kind of steam punk? AND, song inspo.

Part Two || Masterpost (mobile) || Fanfic masterpost

You were being led through the long halls of the capitol building, a collar around your neck. The guards could give you a small shock whenever they so pleased if you tried to run or do anything unsavory.

They had found you stealing fruits off one of the carts in the market. Normally, you would have had your hands whipped and spent a night in jail. But this cart that you had so stupidly failed to see had the symbol of the capitol on it. It had been dark, early morning, and you had failed to see it as you snuck around. The envoy had apparently come to the market as the vendors were arriving to fetch the best of the crops for the council members. Stealing from the capitol meant trial there and you were drug from your mountainous outskirt town to the city with others to face the highest court for your crime.

You were brought to a room and shoved inside; the door closed behind you. A man was sitting behind a desk, waiting patiently.

“Sit,” he invited, gesturing at the chair on the opposite side of the desk. “My name is Tsu. I’ll be your counselor for the day if you decide to utilize my offer.”

Cautiously, you did what he asked, sinking into the chair. He picked up a device — you had only ever seen guards that patrolled through your town with them — and clicked it on. A picture came to life, and you watched with awe as he was able to control it with his movements of his hand in the air.

“I have your basic information that they collected upon your arrest. Name, date of birth, crime. But I need to know what it is you do...”

“‘Do’?”

“Your profession.”

“I don’t have a profession. I’m going to trial.”

“Everyone has a profession.”

You stayed silent, not wanting to give this capitol worker any more information than he already had on you. Your town did well enough staying out of their way and business, keeping to yourselves besides when they demanded crops. Giving away too much about yourself seemed unwise.

Tsu eyed you and asked suspiciously, “Was it a, let’s say, less prestigious profession that you are more inclined to not disclose?”

You saw he was eyeing your arms and then neck causing you to you ask, “What do you mean?”

“Do you know women here in the city — and many other places in the kingdom for that matter — are tattooed?”

“I’ve seen people passing through with them yes.”

“Tattoos are normal, expected even. Your body is a canvas. And having the freedom to do with your skin as you please is a status symbol.” You stared at him dumbly, not picking up what he was trying to get at. He sighed, lowering the technological device and leveled with you, “Ladies of the night do not have tattoos. They’re not free and their skin is kept clear to show that. And to me, you look like ink has never touched your skin. Am I correct?”

Heat came to your cheeks, and you sputtered offended, “I’m not a lady of the night! I worked for the local librarian if you need to know! It just didn’t pay well, and I was hungry!”

So much for not giving him information. But he had provoked you. You were always told you had a temper.

“So, you’re saying yes your skin is clear?”

“Yes it is but I’m not a trollop!”

“It matters not. It will invite unwanted attention from people here in the city. And trust me, the higher up they are in status, the bolder they will be about assuming you are... open.”

Exasperated, you asked, “What does this have to do with my trial?”

Tsu shrugged, “With my help, you may not have to go to trial. You’ll just be sentenced to work in the capitol building. Here. I’m just trying to explain to you briefly how some things work. And I was merely asking what you did so I could better place you. If you were working nights, then, there is a spot for you, despite your immediate disdain for the profession. But, if that’s not the case, then I can find you something else here.”

“For how long?” you asked upset.

Tsu shrugged and said, “The typical time for a crime in your bracket is a year.” Your stomach dropped. An entire year spent here? Wearing a collar? Away from your home. “If you are outstanding — and someone happens to notice, which is rare — you could have a couple months shaved off. The other way, if you are unsuitable or enrage someone, they could seek to extend your sentence.”

“So, I am to be at the mercy of these wealthy, spoiled assholes’ whims?” You demanded before you could stop yourself.

That drew the briefest of smirks out of hum before he cleared his throat and said, “As assuming as it is for me to hear you share that behind closed doors with me, because it is true, I would watch your tongue very closely. That’s something that would most certainly get your sentence extended.”

“Noted,” you muttered, sinking back into your seat.

Tsu turned the tablet towards you and said, “If you would prefer to do what I am offering instead of facing trial and time in a cell, sign here stating you understand the conditions.”

You stared at the tablet, weighing your options. This way, you knew exactly what you were getting into and having knowledge and a plan seemed a comfort than going in blind. Reaching forward, you held out your hand.

“Use your finger. There’s no pen.”

Tracing your name, you watched it appear in gold before solidifying in black in the document.

“Perfect. Let’s get you changed into a servant’s gown. And get that collar off.” The collar was going to come off? He must have seen the shock on your face. “You’ll be given an ankle bracelet. It will look delicate, beautiful even, but trust me, it won’t break. And they’ll get an alert if there’s a lot of pressure aka you trying to do so. And that can also get you added time.”

<><><>

It only took half a day for you to find yourself in more trouble. You had been following Tsu as he gave you a tour around the castle and you had stopped as the two of you crossed a bridge. You had been transfixed by the sight of the city, your hands coming to rest on the balcony as you took it in.

You felt a hand at your ass before it cupped, and breath was hot on your ear.

“My, my, I don’t think I’ve seen you before, lovely,” the man rasped.

“Don’t touch me, you piece of shit!” you exclaimed, whipping around and shoving him. He stumbled back away from you, barely catching his balance having been so caught off guard by your reaction. You doubted the people here ever received pushback from servants. He looked furious.

“What did she just say?” the man demanded, coming for you but someone stepped in his way.

This other man was blonde, short haired. “There’s no need to maim the girl here in public, is there?”

The first man looked ready to explode but he grated, “Did you hear what she said to me, Master Barton? She—"

“I have ears and they’re perfect, so yes I did hear what she said,” Barton replied coolly.

Tsu had come back to your side — how far had he gotten, talking to himself, before he realized you were not behind him? He pulled you a few paces away.

“What’s going on, sir?”

Before Barton could say anything, the man spat, “That little wench shoved me and swore at me!”

Tsu inhaled deeply before hissing in your ear, “Did you hear nothing of what I spoke?” You opened your mouth to protest but he continued on in a hushed whisper, “This whole thing can possibly be fixed if you just go apologize. And if you do this I’m going to have to grab the back of your neck without any resistance from you.”

“Gods,” you breathed.

“I’m serious.”

You gave the slightest of nods before Tsu’s hand was tight around the back of your neck and he walked you past Barton to the man. He was staring at you ferociously, like he wanted to tear you apart.

“She’s just arrived today but that doesn’t excuse her actions. She would like to beg your forgiveness,” Tsu told him, and his fingers flexed, signaling for you to start.

You had dealt with bullies before. You could do this.

Trying to keep the disdain out of your tone, you said, “I’m sorry for being enraged and acting impulsively. It was uncouth of me. I’m new and I am trying to learn how to act respectively with your customs. I beg your forgiveness.” You quickly added, “Sir.”

The man straightened out his shirt before sneering, “These little whores keep getting more brazen. Keep them in line!”

With that he turned on his heel and stormed off.

Tsu let go of your neck and he breathed easier that it had not escalated, and the man had begrudgingly accepted your apology. You caught Barton watching and he winked at you before turning on his heel and leaving as well.

<><><>

Tony was watching the screen of the security footage with arousal swimming in his eyes, his fingers at his lips at the woman. He was insatiable at times with his lust — the whorehouse a place he frequently relished in. He turned his attention to Steve.

Steve was cold at first, displeased by the mountain girl’s behavior towards one of the council members. But upon seeing her come back and apologize, a small smirk broke out.

“Thought you might find that interesting,” Clint commented, leaning against the wall. “Seems there’s a little hellion now in our midst.”

Tony paused the recording on a close up of her face and Steve leaned forward. He studied her for a few moments before telling the guards.

“Send her our way,” he ordered. “We’ve needed a new chambermaid. And I haven’t had to break a new one in in a while.”

“Cause she definitely didn’t mean a word of that apology. Look at that fire in her eyes,” Tony chuckled, strolling closer to the screen, looking at her face on the paused screen. Quietly to himself more than anything, his fingers tapping his lips, he said, “No... no you didn’t, did you, little vixen?” He was drinking the sight of her in, and he adjusted his pants, already titillating himself at the thoughts playing in his mind. Turning away from the screen on one foot, he went back for his goblet, taking a drink. He smacked his lips and vowed, “She’ll mean it when we ask for an apology. Of that I am certain.”

“Whatever she’s been assigned, reassign her to our villa community,” Steve added. “She’ll have plenty work there to learn her manners.”

~~~

Marvel tags: @coconutqueen21​ @undecidedsworld​ @holl2712​ @agustdowney​

[butwhyduh]

The Batmobile

Jason todd x reader

Warning: angst, fluff, smut, it’s fucking in the fucking batmobile 🤷🏻‍♀️😏

It was a whole year ago that you found out about Jason being Red Hood. He had left a spare helmet in the back of his closet and you had pulled it on top of you when you grabbed a hoodie. After mentally freaking out, Jason had gotten you a bag of ice for the knot on your head.

It took a whole freaking year of knowing his secret and almost 2 years of dating for you to be invited to the Wayne Manor. Okay, actually Bruce had invited you within the first 6 months of dating. Jason was the one who wanted to keep you a secret.

You spent a good 2 hours looking through your entire closet to find something to wear. What the hell do you wear to dinner at a billionaire’s house? You relaxed a little when you saw Jason wearing plain jeans and a hoodie. Okay, yeah good. Casual was better. Not to mention that you were taking a motorcycle there.

You arrived in skinny jeans and a leather jacket that felt like a protection. You could act like a punk and most people won’t touch you. Especially when Jason had the scowl he was currently wearing. You followed his eyes to see the unmistakable form of Bruce Wayne in the drive.

Did Bruce specifically find children that resembled him? Much like Jason he was tall and muscular with dark hair and as you got closer you could see he also had blue eyes. He had a few wrinkles around his eyes and grey in his hair that seemed to add to his beauty rather than take it away. You’d never met a billionaire before.

“Hello,” Bruce said.

“Hello.” You shook his hand.

“I apologize for not having you over sooner but Jason seems to have wanted to keep you a secret,” he said with a tiny smile you almost missed.

“I wonder why,” Jason whispered sarcastically. Bruce ignored it. “Hello demon spawn,” he said and you gasped at the person you hadn’t seen before standing only a few feet from you.

“Damian Wayne,” he said with his hand out to you. You shook the young man’s hand and stated your name. He was only a inch or two within your height despite his youth and heavily resembled his father except for his deep olive skin tone and green eyes.

The door opened and a voice called out, “perhaps you should bring your party inside the manor. It will be snowing soon.” The polished English accent must have been Alfred.

Bruce moved to the side and you all walked in. Alfred had walked to the dinning room. The hallway had deep polished wood walls and was dimly lit by candles on candelabras. As you walked towards the room, a warm body grabbed your hand and you shrieked.

“Sorry! Sorry!” He said releasing your hand. You flushed, embarrassed. “I thought you saw me. I’m Dick.” He rubbed the back of his neck with his hand.

Jason grasped your hand and stepped towards Dick with a look of murder on his face. You put your hand on his shoulder. “It’s okay. It was an accident,” you said with a little awkward laugh. Jason relaxed a little.

Alfred stood in the doorway to the dinning room with a small smile. He gently cleared his throat and you all followed him in the dinning room. It was then that you truly took in the beauty of the house. You had been too nervous about meeting his family when walking in.

The room was breathtaking. A long mahogany table was lined with emerald tuffed chaired and heavy gold curtains over the windows. The wooden floor gleamed and you noticed that your feet were the only ones making any noise as you sat down.

“Hello master Jason. It’s nice to see you here again. And you must be y/n. I’m glad he finally brought you around,” Alfred said quietly, shaking your hand. “Excuse me, I must serve dinner.”

A lovely smelling soup was placed before you all and water and wine was served. You watched as everyone ate. Bruce ate casually while Dick animatedly told a story. Another brother, Tim, shook your hand across the table before eating and typing away on his phone. Jason stared at Damian while eating and the teen glared back. You put your hand on Jason’s knee and he seemed to relax a little.

“I need to speak you, Jason, about work after dinner,” Bruce said casually. All of Jason’s tension came back.

“Not today,” he said. “We can talk later.”

“Well it’s quite important WE business,” Bruce said and everyone at the table watched the two closely.

“Is that why we came over? For you to talk business?” Jason said. He almost had a grimace on his face.

“Of course not. We wanted to meet your girlfriend,” Dick interjected. Jason ignored him.

Bruce finally spoke. “He’s right. We can talk about it later. Tell us more about yourself, y/n.”

“Oh, uh...” you said quite put on the spot. “I’m a photographer.”

“You should have brought your camera. The courtyard can be very pretty in the evening,” Bruce said. “Do you work for a newspaper?”

“Of course she doesn’t,” Jason scoffed.

“I don’t. I mainly take portraits but I have been taking urban photos lately,” you said. “Like the effects of urban areas. I mean-“ you felt a loss of words to describe what you meant.

“She takes photos of the worst parts of Gotham to expose the poverty. That’s where we met. I don’t really let her go alone anymore,” he said with the smallest hint of a smile. “It’s pretty damn dangerous.”

“I’ve been fine,” you insisted and Jason thought back on the multiple shady characters he’s had to beat for you to get your shots without knowing what he was doing. “But I’m putting together a piece for South Gotham Gallery. A few more shots and it will be complete.”

“I’ve heard certain areas can be very dangerous,” Dick commented. “I would be very careful. Especially with a camera.”

“Yeah, like the East End,” Tim said.

“I grew up there,” you admitted with a laugh. “Stay away from Crime Alley and you’re probably okay. During the day.”

“It’s unwise to visit at all. Crime has risen 11 percent in the past 3 years,” Damian said. Alfred served a salad next.

“And unemployment by over 15 percent in the Bowery. That’s why I’m doing my piece. Poverty and crime is caused by wealth,” you said frankly before realizing that you just said that to a bunch of billionaires. Jason stifled a snicker.

[[MORE]]

“I suppose so,” Bruce said slowly. Jesus, you had just insulted your boyfriend’s adoptive father.

“Sorry,” you said quietly looking at your salad.

“It’s fine. It’s true,” Jason said with a shrug.

“So do you two live together,” Dick asked, changing the subject.

“You’re saying that crime is caused by wealth? Can you explain,” Damian said. Jason almost crushed the stem of his wine glass.

“I just mean, Gotham’s rich have gotten richer and the poor poorer and the ones with the money can control that,” you said delicately.

“So the rich can prevent poverty? All poverty?” Damian asked. And to the 13 year old’s credit, he just seemed to be curious. He could clearly feel the tension he was creating but didn’t actually care as he wanted answers.

“Paying people enough to live, healthcare for all, rehabilitation services that actually rehab, good education. All will help prevent crime and poverty. Many studies have shown this,” you said and you wanted to remain impartial but your voice betrayed your passion for the subject.

“We donate and run many foundations that support most of those things. Right father?” Damian asked. You sighed but kept silent. Throwing money doesn’t solve a problem.

Bruce cleared his throat. “Yes.”

“Drop it Damian,” Tim said. He roughly stabbed at his salad.

“I just want to know how she could possibly know what the rich do if she has always been poor.”

Jason crushed the stem at this point. “Shit,” you said quickly wrapping his bleeding hand in a handkerchief from the table. He looked close to exploding.

“Don’t forget that she’s not the only poor kid at the table. I grew up on the streets and moved here. Rich people are shit,” Jason said. He started standing and Damian watched him with a glint in his eyes. He was ready to fight too.

“Sit down, Jason,” Bruce commanded. “He’s just a curious boy.”

“Not surprising. He gets it from his old man. Disregard for anyone else,” Jason all but growled. Tonight was only the tip of the iceberg. You put a hand on his forearm. The last thing you wanted was a fight.

“You’re angry,” Bruce said quietly. He swallowed harshly. “Sit down.”

“I’m a grown man,” Jason said scoffing.

“Not acting like that,” Bruce said. Jason’s hands twitched towards his gun on his hip but he resisted the urge.

“Come on. Let’s get out of here. Alfred, food was great. Fuck you, Bruce,” Jason said grabbing your hand.

“Don’t leave,” Dick called as Jason pulled you down the hall. He didn’t go towards the front door but downstairs to a garage. There was probably 20 cars. Many of them were cars you had never seen in person.

“You wanna go for a drive?” He asked and you felt a thrill.

“One of these?” You asked.

“Nope,” Jason said pressing a code into a computer. A hidden garage door opened to expose a very conspicuous vehicle. The batmobile. You’d definitely never seen that car in real life.

“Seriously? Won’t he get mad?” You asked a little shocked.

“Fucking furious. We’re just going to get something to eat,” Jason said grabbing the key and unlocking it.

“Ugh... what the hell? Why not? Yeah,” you finally said. You knew the value of not missing a ride in the freaking batmobile. He grinned and opened the door for you. You climbed in and noticed a billion buttons. As Jason started the car, a string of lights pulsed on before the car showed multiple sensors. Jason pressed a few buttons before shifting the gear and driving out of the garage. The front gate automatically opened and he started putting on some speed once the car hit the road.

It felt like he was driving 50 when the speedometer was showing a cool 120. Your heart beat quickly in fear and excitement. Jason slowed down to 70 and grasped your hand. You could see tiny little cuts on his hand from the glass he crushed earlier.

“Is your hand okay?” You asked looking it over.

“It’s fine. Doesn’t hurt at all. Let’s get some food. I know a spot. But you’ll have to wear this,” he said pulling out a small black mask to cover your eyes. He took his own. “Can’t exactly drive the batmobile and show our face.”

The spot he knew was a tiny little taco truck strung with Christmas lights and a white board advertising “elotes con chile y limon.” It was on an empty corner lot in a not so great area of Gotham. It was extremely conspicuous as the pair of you got out of the car. Most people watched but as they thought they were watching freaking Batman order tacos, they didn’t say or do anything.

“Hello,” said the truck owner nervously. “Would you like something to eat? Elotes? Carnitas?”

“Yeah, 6 carnita tacos with cilantro and lime. A Mexican coke. 2 orders of sopapillas. What do you want?”

“That’s all for you?” You laughed always amazed at the amount he could eat. It made sense with all the energy he used but still. “Same but just 2 tacos and and a coke.”

Jason wrapped an arm around you waist and swayed slightly to the Mexican music playing in the truck. People started to get used to you both being there. Maybe Batman just wanted some tacos?

After receiving a plastic take out bag with foil wrapped tacos, a sign of good tacos, you both climbed back in the car. The masks were haphazardly tossed on the dash. Jason drove you both back the way you came and you wondered if you were going back to the manor when, no he was taking you to a quiet rest stop outside the city. You ate the tacos and sopapillas on the hood of the car. You watched as Jason added way to much spicy green chile sauce to his tacos.

“Want some?”

“I choose life but thank you,” you said. You giggled as he cleared his throat and gulped down his coke. But to his credit, he ate it. Maybe he just enjoyed pain? “Now what?” You asked watching the stars. They weren’t visible in the city.

Instead of answering, Jason pulled you close. Your back against his chest and he wrapped his arms around you. You held his hands and looked at the little scars that littered his skin. Always fighting. Jason bent to kiss your neck.

“Wanna be really bad,” he asked with audacity that you knew meant something interesting. You leaned into him more.

“What do you mean?” You purred. Dating a guy like Jason Todd, you weren’t exactly new to taking some risks.

“Let’s fuck. Right. Here,” he said and with every word he slowly spoke in a husky voice, he pushed his hips against you and you knew exactly what he wanted. You went to turn in his arms but he moved quicker and you were quickly bent over the car with a gasp. He pulled off his jacket and threw it on the hood. Little did you know but he was covering the camera.

Jason’s hand ran along your back and you shivered as your skin pressed against the hard metal. He kissed the back of your neck and kneaded the flesh on your hips and he ground his hard on against you. “Fuck you’re pretty. And letting fucking Bruce know what you think of the rich. That was hot as shit. I’ve been wanting to do this for months.”

“This was on your bucket list,” you asked grinding your hips back against him. “To bend me over the batmobile and fuck me?”

“Jesus,” he said before pulling down your jeans and panties in one push. You shivered at the cold air touched your ass. “Your fucking mouth, Princess. I love it.”

You weren’t cold for very long because after a few seconds of rustling with a belt and zipper, you felt Jason press against your ass. He rubbed his cock through your folds a few times before pulling away. You turned to whine only to see him rolling on a condom. He sunk into you without ceremony. His fingers roughly held your hips as he thrust into you.

You moaned and the echo reminded you that you were outside. Anyone could come up on the pair of you fucking on the goddamn Batmobile. It made you moan even louder. He rubbed his hand up and down your spine before sliding down to the front of your body to rub your clit. It didn’t take long for you to grip him tighter.

“Fuck, Princess, are you close?” He moaned in your ear. His thrusts were rough and deep and his fingers moved quickly over your clit.

“Yeah, oh shit, yeah,” you moaned. “Jay,” you whined when he readjusted his hand.

“I got you. Let go, Princess,” he purred in your ear. You reached a hand up and grabbed his hair. You pulled him close and moaned his name on repeat as you came. He grunted and a few more thrusts found his release. Jason pulled out and pulled up your pants with a pat on your ass and took care of his condom.

“We probably need to get the car back before Bruce come looking for it,” he said grabbing his jacket. Jason gave you a long sweet kiss before getting back in the car.

“Does he have a tracking device in it,” you asked with sudden realization.

“Yeah but all we did was get some tacos and stopped to eat them,” Jason said with a wink. “He won’t care too much. Plus he’ll only be mad at me anyways. Don’t worry about it, Princess.”

You held his hand all the way back to the front drive of Wayne Manor. As soon as you were in his car, his phone lit up and before he put it away, it was a message from Tim. “Clean it before you bring it back. I don’t even want to know what happened and Bruce is ofc mad.😩”

You laughed a little and Jason went from grinning to laughing out loud. “At least we didn’t fuck in the car,” you said. He laughed some more.

“Maybe next time, baby,” he said with a wink before speeding out of the drive.

“Oh god. I wouldn’t do Alfred like that.”

“I knew I liked you for some reason. Let’s get home. It’s cold as balls out here and I’d like to spend some time with my hot as shit girlfriend before the other shoe drops,” Jason said taking your hand again.

“That’s a fan-fucking-tastic idea.”

[rpf-bat]

My Cellmate’s A Killer

Pairing: Gerard Way x Reader

Genre: Drama, Romance

Summary: Written for Gothtober 2020, Day 22. Prompt: “Prison”.

Gerard is a convict, currently serving time for murder. When he receives a serious injury, the prison warden brings him to the hospital, where you work. As you nurse him back to health, you form an unexpected bond with him. But, can you really trust a killer? 

Trigger warnings for mentions of past violence, and sexual assault. 

The doctors told you that the patient was a criminal. He “lived” at the maximum security prison on the edge of town. Apparently, he’d gotten injured in his cell, and the guards had no choice but to bring him here, to the hospital, to receive surgery. 

You didn’t care. You were a nurse - that meant you would treat any person that needed medical help. You nervously approached the police officer, who was guarding the front door of the hospital room. 

“It’s time for Mister, uhh….,” you glanced down, checking your chart. “Mister Way’s next dose of medicine.” 

“Alright,” the guard nodded, allowing you past. “Be careful in there, miss. He’s a dangerous man.” 

You peered through the window, before entering the room. The dark haired man lay calmly on his cot. His hands were handcuffed behind his head. 

“Was it really necessary to restrain him like that?” you frowned. 

“We can’t allow him an opportunity to escape,” the guard reasoned. 

“He just got thirty stitches in his leg,” you pointed out. “I don’t think he could walk out of here, even if he wanted to.” 

“Just go give him his pills,” the guard huffed. “And stop asking me questions.” 

“Yeah, alright,” you sighed, and entered the room. 

%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%

“Hi, Mr. Way,” you smiled, trying to treat him like any other patient. “It’s time for another dose of hydromorphone, okay?” 

“Call me Gerard,” the man said softly. “What’s your name, Nurse?” 

“I’m Y/N,” you introduced yourself. You began puncturing the blister pack that contained his painkillers. 

“Is it a pill you’re giving me?” Gerard asked, raising an eyebrow. 

“Yes, sir,” you nodded. “A standard eight milligram dose.” 

“I don’t exactly have a free hand to take it from you,” Gerard chuckled, glancing at the cuffs, that held his hands fast. “What are you gonna do? Feed it to me?” 

You blushed at this suggestion, taking a closer look at him. His long, dark hair framed a pale and handsome face. He looked more like a magazine model, than a convicted felon. The idea of bringing your fingers to his lips sounded….both appealing, and wrong, all at once. 

But, if his hands are incapacitated, you considered, stepping closer to his bedside, what other choice do I have?

“Come here,” Gerard chuckled, “I promise, I won’t bite you.”

“The cop at the door says you’re dangerous,” you hesitated. 

“Well, yeah,” Gerard said dryly, “I was convicted of second-degree murder.”

“M-murder?!” you gasped, jumping back. He confessed to it so casually, as if it was nothing. 

“It’s true,” Gerard said, sounding frighteningly unrepentant. “I killed a man. But, I had my reasons.”

“What reason could possibly justify taking a human life?!” you cried, horrified.

Is he some kind of sociopath?, you wondered, shuddering. Should I be scared, being alone in a room with him like this?

“....Do you really want to know?” Gerard asked, gazing up at you, with his cold, hazel eyes. 

The truth was, you’d always had a weird fascination with true crime documentaries. It intrigued you, hearing the motives, that would drive seemingly ordinary people to kill. 

“...Yes,” you decided, setting down the pills, and taking a seat, beside the bed. “Tell me.” 

“I have this little brother,” Gerard explained. “His name is Mikey. He was in his junior year of high school. Some classmate of his, decided that he looked gay.  Whatever that means. And then he decided, that he needed to beat him up, just for, I don’t know, existing too gay-ly.” 

“That’s terrible,” you frowned. You never understood, why kids bullied each other, for such stupid and prejudiced reasons. 

“They beat Mikey so bad, that they put him in the hospital,” Gerard recalled with a pained expression. 

“I’m so sorry,” you said sympathetically. You wondered if little Mikey was okay. 

“It’s okay,” Gerard shrugged. “I paid the bastard back, by putting him in a grave.” 

You gasped, at this chilling admission. 

“You don’t understand, Nurse,” Gerard said insistently. “The son of a bitch hit my brother in the face so hard, that he went blind in his right eye, for the rest of his life!” 

“That poor kid,” you frowned. 

“Well, he’s not a kid anymore,” Gerard clarified. “I got revenge against the worm who hurt my brother, in 1997. I was sentenced to fifteen years in prison….and I’ve already served seven years of that.” 

“So, you have eight more years to go?” you calculated. 

“Yeah,” Gerard said sadly. “Mikey will be thirty-two, by the time I get out.”

“What does he think about your decision to avenge him?” you asked curiously. You imagined how much you would miss your own siblings, if you were separated from them, for over a decade. 

“He visited me in lockup,” Gerard replied. “He said it brings him peace, knowing the bastard can never hurt him again. So, say what you want. But I ain’t sorry, for putting a bullet between his eyes.” 

“This hospital is the first place you’ve been, other than that prison, in such a long time,” you realized. 

“Yeah,” Gerard nodded. “I ain’t sorry for what I did to get sent here, either.” 

“What did you do?” you asked, eyes wide. 

“I got a new cellmate,” Gerard explained. “His name’s Bert. He just started a five-year sentence, last week.” 

“What did he get convicted of?” you asked curiously. 

“Drug trafficking,” Gerard replied. “One of the harder ones. Prison life is gonna force him to get sober, though. By the looks, withdrawal has been a real bitch for him so far.”

You recalled the symptoms of drug withdrawal, from your medical textbook. Shaking. Vomiting. Rapid heartbeat. Seizures. It was nothing you would wish on anyone - even a dealer, who had sold the poison to others.

“I’m sorry he’s going through that,” you said empathetically. 

“Well, he almost went through something way worse,” Gerard grimaced. 

“What could be worse than that?” you wondered anxiously. 

“We were in the showers,” Gerard recalled, paling. “Some big guy, from Cell Block A, tried uh….he tried to…..touch Bert. In a way he didn’t want to be touched.”

“Oh,” you gasped. You heard about these things happening in men’s prisons - but it was still a sickening thought. 

“I clocked the sick fuck,” Gerard snarled. “Knocked him the fuck out.” 

“....Good,” you said, without thinking. Maybe you shouldn’t encourage a confessed killer, to commit more acts of violence. But, if he hadn’t done what he did, his friend would have been sexually assaulted. Preventing such a thing, was a noble motive. 

“Problem was, the guy was in a prison gang,” Gerard sighed, continuing his story. “After I bloodied him up, all over the bathroom floor, his buddies came after me. One of them had a shiv. Shanked me right in my fucking leg.”

“.....That’s why you needed all those stitches?” you realized. 

“Yeah,” Gerard replied, sinking back into his pillows. “That’s how I wound up here.” 

“Let me give you your pain medicine,” you said, standing up. His stab wound must hurt him terribly. 

“You’re not scared of me?” Gerard asked softly. “After everything I just told you I did?” 

“You’re a violent man,” you considered. “But, I don’t think you’re an evil man, Gerard.” 

“....Really?” Gerard’s eyes widened.

“Truly,” you nodded. “You attacked two men, yes. But, they were bad men. Men who hurt innocent people.” 

“I’d never hurt a nice lady like you,” Gerard whispered. 

You took the pain pill, and put it between your fingers. “Open up,” you instructed. 

Gerard, to your surprise, blushed. 

“What’s wrong?” you asked. 

“I haven’t had  a woman this close to me in seven, long years, Nurse,” Gerard said shyly. “Let alone such a beautiful one.” 

It was your turn to blush. He thought you were beautiful? 

“C-come on, now,” you stammered. “Say ah.”

Gerard opened his mouth wide. You glanced down at his pale pink lips, as you leaned over him. Your hair brushed his cheek, making his whole face go red. 

You gently placed the pill on his tongue. His lips closed around your fingertips for a moment, almost sucking them. You drew back from his touch, startled. 

“What’s the matter, Nurse?” he asked, a sly look on his face, as he swallowed the tablet. 

“I -I told you,” you mumbled, looking away, “my name’s Y/N.”

“Can you do me one more favor, Y/N?” Gerard asked quietly. 

“What is it?” you asked, heart pounding. 

“....Ya think you could scratch my nose for me?” 

You burst into laughter, at his odd request. It wasn’t what you were expecting. 

“I’m serious! It really itches!” 

Overcoming your giggles, you glanced again, at the handcuffs on his wrists. The guard had, perhaps unwisely, left a key on the bedside table. 

“....I really don’t think you need to be tied up like this,” you confessed. 

“They don’t want me on the loose,” Gerard shrugged. “Told ya, I’m a killer.” 

“If I were to unlock the cuffs for you,” you asked, your voice a whisper, “do you promise to stay in your bed?” 

“I won’t try to escape, Y/N,” Gerard said seriously, staring up into your eyes. “I promise you. If I went on the run now, I’d never see my brother again. It’s not worth it to me.” 

“...Then, I’ll do it,” you decided, grabbing the key. You prayed that you were not going to regret this. 

The key turned in the lock, and the cuffs unclicked, releasing Gerard’s hands. He didn’t lunge at you, or jump up. He simply scratched his nose - exactly as he said he would. 

You breathed a sigh of relief. 

“I know you got other patients to look after, Nurse Y/N,” Gerard said, looking suddenly sleepy, as the medication started to kick in. “So...have a good night, alright?”

“Good night, Mr. Way,” you smiled, and walked out of the room. 

%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%

The next day, you came to provide another dose of hydromorphone. The guard glared at you, as you approached the door. 

“What the hell were you thinking last night?” he asked. “You gave the prisoner an opportunity to escape!” 

“.....Did he escape?” you asked, your heart suddenly aching. Had he manipulated you, into feeling sorry for him, so he could go on the lamb?

“....No,” the guard shook his head. “I guess we got lucky. The prisoner is still sittin’ in there, like a good boy. Exactly where you left him.” 

You breathed a sigh of relief. Gerard had kept his promise. 

“...May I give him his medicine, Officer?” you asked, staring the guard down.

“Yeah, lady,” the cop said, with a defeated look. “You go on ahead.” 

You entered the room, shutting the door behind you. “Hi, Mr. Way,” you greeted. 

“I told you, Y/N,” your new favorite patient smiled, “the name’s Gerard.”

“Hi, Gerard,” you corrected yourself. “How are you feeling today?” 

“Not so good,” Gerard confessed. “As you can see, Officer Jackass put the cuffs back on me this morning.” 

It was true - he was, once again, shackled to the bed. 

“I guess I’ll have to feed it to you again,” you mumbled, cheeks aflame. 

“You kinda looked like you were enjoying it, the last time,” Gerard smirked. 

“N-no!” you denied, blushing harder. 

“Oh, really?” Gerard teased. “Well…..I know I sure did.” 

“You shouldn’t say things like that,” you stammered. You were a medical professional. He was a patient in your care - and a convicted murderer, to boot! You shouldn’t let him flirt with you like this. 

But, although you hated to admit…..he was right. Something about your fingers in his mouth, had been strangely attractive to you. 

“What can I say, Nurse Y/N?” Gerard shrugged. “I got nothing to lose. As soon as I’m healed up, they’re gonna take me back to the penitentiary. I won’t see, or touch, a woman again, for the rest of this decade.” 

“That must be...lonely,” you breathed. 

“I knew the price I was gonna pay, when I got Mikey his justice,” Gerard sighed. “It’s far too late, to start having regrets now. But…..if I could have just one wish….”

“What would you wish for?” you asked, your heart hammering. 

“Just one kiss,” Gerard begged. “Before they lock me back up, and throw away the key.” 

“....I’ll grant your wish,” you decided, in a whisper. You felt so hot, all of a sudden. 

“Wh-What?” Gerard stammered. 

“Sssh,” you shushed him. “Hold still, and say ah for me again.” 

You leaned down, beside his bed, and kissed him softly, on the mouth. Despite the sterile scent of disinfectant in the room, the taste of the moment, was incredibly sweet. 

He struggled against his chains, trying desperately to bring his body, closer to yours. You sat on the bed, closing the gap. 

Now practically in his lap, you kissed him harder. 

“Ahhh!” he cried. 

“....Did I hurt you?” you gasped, pulling away. “Did I sit on the leg that was injured?”

“....No,” Gerard panted. “That…..wasn’t a noise of pain.”

“....Oh,” you flushed. 

“I’d be greedy to ask for a second wish,” Gerard said seductively. “But, if I could have one….oh, pretty, please, Nurse, would you do that again?” 

You nodded, pushing him back, into the bed. “You can wish for it, as many times as you like.”

[five-rivers]

Long Night in the Valley chapter 9

“But what if it’s the hospital?” Inko asked, still staring at the phone, cheek cupped in one hand.  “What if it’s an emergency with one of your patients?  It could be important.”

It wasn’t.  Mostly because nothing could possibly be as important as dealing with Midoriya Inko.

Without a doubt, the woman was the most difficult to deal with person in the entire world.  It was no reflection on her personality, of course, but rather on her unique position.

Garaki could cope with rabid villains.  He had handled heroes cursing him.  He could even converse normally with All for One.  

But then, compared to this woman, All for One was easy. As long as she wasn’t part of the picture, all Garaki had to do was follow orders.  When she did, every interaction became a balancing act between All for Ones previous orders and not upsetting her.  

Garaki was too valuable to All for One for the man to kill him, which only meant that Garaki had been on the receiving end of some truly creative punishments in the past.  

Also, Midoriya Inko once threatened to pull his pancreas out of his nose if he ever spoke ‘like that’ to her son again.  Truly, she was a match for All for One, who had threatened much the same thing only hours later, despite the fact the results presented had been ordered by him.  

This was truly a terrifying situation, and he had to face it without even little Johnny at his side.  How pitiful…

“Really,” said Inko, “I think you should answer it.  Maybe it’ll give you some idea about how we can help Izuku.”

That seemed unlikely at best.  Even so, it would be unwise to go against the wishes of All for One’s chosen queen.  

He smiled tightly.  “I’ll have to step out,” he said.

“Of course,” said Inko, nodding.  

He stepped out if the dining room and checked the phone.  It was Shigaraki Tomura.  Because of course it was.  Normally, he would have scrambled to answer, but…  He looked over his shoulder, to make sure Midoriya Inko hadn’t spontaneously appeared there.  

One way or another, he feared, he was going to die today.  

No, he told himself, focus on the positives.  

For example, Midoriya Inko seemed to have taken quite well to the longevity quirk All for One had slipped her while they were dating.  Very well indeed.  He’d already known that, of course, but it was good to see it in person.  All for One’s youngest son was now in conflict with the heroes, even if he was still clinging to All Might’s emaciated skeleton.  The call from Shigaraki Tomura meant that Gigantomachia hadn’t killed him while Garaki was distracted.  

Overall, this day was going wonderfully.  

He answered his phone.  

“You f—”  

Ah, so it was Shigaraki Tomura.  

“How did you and Sensei manage to lose an entire-a—” And there he went again.  “—ing feral child?”

Wait.  Garaki knew about Midoriya Izuku.  How did Shigaraki Tomura?  “Er, what feral child?”

“The green brat!  Except he’s not green anymore.  He died his stupid puffball hair white—”

“—honestly, I always thought it was more broccoli—HA! He’s a cauliflower now-!”

“Shut up, Twice!  He was wearing a suit, using Eraserhead’s quirk.  Did you guys think I was stupid or something?”

“What?”

“Do you not have the news in your crappy lab?”

“Erm.”

“What are you even doing, that it took so long for you to pick up your phone?”

“Well…”

“Never mind.  We need a fast travel out of here.  This place is crawling with heroes, and the giant boss is going to wake up soon—”

“I can’t,” said Garaki.  “I’m not in my lab.”

It wasn’t quite silent on the other side of the line.  

“What do you mean, you aren’t in your lab?”  A pause.  “What are you doing, old man?  Where are you?”

“I have to go, now,” said Garaki, feeling oddly detached.   The phone beeped as he hung up on Shigaraki Tomura. He opened his news app.  

Masterfully, he avoided crying as he read through the top local stories.  The real shock was that All for One hadn’t broken out of prison yet.  

Oh, and Eraserhead’s quirk, because he absolutely shouldn’t have been able to do that.  The quirks of the past users, yes, fine, that made sense.  The mechanism between All for One and One for All was presumably sufficiently similar.  But Eraserhead’s, that was a different story.  

Unless…  The remnants…

Garaki found that he was very afraid.  

He replayed the video of the incident.  Mentally calculated the trajectory of All Might and the younger Midoriya.  Perhaps… perhaps rather than taking a phone call, he should be making one.

.

“’S like Ragdoll,” explained Izuku, as the pair of One for All members limped through the forest.  “Shiretoko-san, I mean.”

“Mhm,” said Toshinori, lifting Izuku over a spot that would give his sprained and swollen ankle some difficulty.  

“Even though she can’t use Search anymore, there’s still remnants.  She can- She can keep track of a lot more objects at once.  Her organizational skills, visual acuity…  Some things have actually improved, now that she’s not using that part of her head.  The point is, not all of the support structures disappear when the quirk does. And I think- I think not all of the quirk itself goes away, either.”

“I’m not sure I follow you on that part.”

“It’s—It’s a, um.  All for One, I think, physically, obviously, there has to be psionic component as well, the way it works is by destructively copying the quirk and the quirk factor of the target individual.  It’s like—Like if there was a copier in a shredder?  I guess?  Can’t copy without destroying the original.  But, yeah.  There has to be a mental component.  So, my—So, what, I mean, I mean what I—Hmmnnng.”

“My boy?”

“My head hurts.”  He swiped ineffectively at his sluggishly bleeding nose.  

Toshinori pressed his lips together, concerned.  Izuku rarely admitted to feeling pain, no matter how beaten up he was.  This must be serious.  

“We have some painkillers,” said Toshinori.  

“No,” said Izuku.  “I’m okay.  What was I-? I was saying…  Quirks.  My quirk when he—There’s still remnants, and the emergent behavior—” He took a deep, shuddering breath.  “The bits left behind when he took my quirk, with One for All—assuming that’s what happened, and they’re not wrong—they let me access the past users’ quirks, and also since Saito-san’s quirk seems to interact with quirk ghosts, at least partially, it can use that to pick up Aizawa-sensei’s quirk.  Probably could get the others’ as well, although I’m less confident about mutant quirks like Iida’s.”

For a moment, they let the conversation lapse.  

“I think we’re handling these revelations very well,” opined Toshinori.  

“I know, right?”  Izuku giggled like someone at the edge of a very tall cliff.  “Anyway, One for All uses more of a passive copying mechanism, but I’d guess there’s something wrong with its writing mechanism, unless the stockpile quirk just takes up all its time, or something, or there was a problem with interpretation?  Or, or! The others are wrong about me ever having a quirk, and it’s really just One for All finally processing and writing in the other quirks.  Maybe because I’m genetically closer to One than any of the others?” Izuku’s breath caught.

“Izuku?”

“Toshinori,” he whined, “it hurts…”

“What does?”

“Everything,” said Izuku.  “My head.  My eyes.” He’d mostly relied on Toshinori’s vision while navigating through the forest.  Since using Aizawa-sensei’s quirk, he’d barely opened his eyes.  

“We’ve made some distance since we landed,” said Toshinori. “Why don’t we rest for a little while?”

“We can’t,” protested Izuku.  “We’re still too close.”

“Izuku, you’re suffering from quirk exhaustion.”

“Oh,” said Izuku.  “Oh. I guess I never felt—Never felt it before?  Because I’d just break my bones first.”

Toshinori visibly cringed.  “If I understand what you just said correctly,” he said, taking Izuku by the shoulders and guiding him gently towards a fallen tree, “what you did back there with young Aizawa’s quirk was akin to running a race with a broken leg.”

“W-well, I mean, only if—only if—they’re right about it being my quirk.  And n-not just something One for All can do.”

“Mm,” said Toshinori, dubiously.  “Even then, it isn’t something quite natural for you, is it? And this right after receiving Float.”

“It,” said Izuku, frowning, and letting himself be directed. “Actually, it felt…  Good?  Right before it started hurting.  Like… satisfying, almost?  Like when I used One for All for the first time…  Well, before I realized all my bones were broken.”

“It wasn’t quite all of them, was it?”

Izuku shrugged.  He blinked slowly as he sat down on the log.  “It’s cold.”

“It is December,” said Toshinori, unzipping his coat.  “Let me see here, I had some winter clothing for you in here somewhere…  and we should take a better look at your ankle.”  He sat down next to Izuku, who immediately leaned towards him, not quite touching.  

On impulse, Toshinori wrapped the open edge of the coat around Izuku, pulling him close.    

Izuku rested his head against Toshinori’s chest and brought up his knees to hug them.  “This’s warm,” he mumbled.  

“How about,” said Toshinori, “you just rest for a few minutes. Then we can sort everything else out.”

“Okay…”

.

“Well,” said Recovery Girl, entering the conference room the hospital had lent them, “no one is in any danger of dying.”

“But?” said Hitoshi, bracing himself for bad news.  

“No but.  They’re all fine, beyond not waking up, but you all already knew that.  So.”  She hopped into a seat at the table they’d all squeezed around.  “What have you found out?”

She directed the question to Hizashi, who had his head in his hands, his elaborately styled hair almost hitting Jirou and Kaminari, who were seated across from him.  

“Midoriya has a sentient quirk and no one bothered to mention it.”

“I’m not sure Midori knew,” said Tsuyu.  “It does seem like something he’d mention.”

“I don’t know,” said Kaminari.  “He’s, like, weirdly cagey about his quirk.”

Tokoyami crossed his arms.  “Hm.  He may have been hiding it.  Possession of a sentient quirk casts one into the shadow of the commission’s regard.”

“Huh?”

“People with sentient quirks are monitored by the Hero Commission,” said Hitoshi.  “Just like people with ‘villainous’ quirks.  

“He was not hiding, mes amis,” said Aoyama.  “That’s absurd!  He was simply a late bloomer, like myself.”

“Does it really matter if he knew or not?” asked Jirou.  “Everyone has stuff they’d rather not tell other people.”

“She’s right,” said Kayama-sensei.  

“Well,” said Yaoyorzu, “we’re going to try to help him, aren’t we?”

There was a murmur of agreement.

“But how?”

“Overthrow the government?” suggested Jirou.  

“Start a social media campaign?” said Kaminari, at the same time.  

They looked at each other.  

“And you call yourself an anarchist,” scoffed Jirou.  

“In my defense, I have never once called myself an anarchist.”

“As much as I like the idea of overthrowing the government, the social media idea is probably more doable,” said Hitoshi.  “I mean, there’s only fourteen of us here.  What are we going to do against the government?”

“As much as I hate to say it,” said Kayama-sensei, “we do have more resources than just the people in this room.  Like the person who sent us to extract you in the first place.”

“You mean,” said Shouji, voice hushed, “the rat god?”

Kayama-sensei blanched.  “Where did you hear that?”

All the students, including Hitoshi, pointed at Hizashi, because, really, she should have known that.  Actually, wait, one of them hadn’t and had instead buried his face in his hands.  That was… Kouda.  Yeah. Kouda.  

“What’s up with him?” asked Hitoshi.  

Mineta snickered.  A baleful collective glare was turned on him.  

“What?” he whined.  

Aoyama sighed.  “Midoriya once asked him if he could control our fantabulous Principal Nezu, since Principal Nezu is technically an animal.”

“Ever since then,” continued Yaoyorozu, “he has a crisis whenever the principal is brought up.”

“Man,” said Kaminari, nodding in Hitoshi’s direction, “I bet that if Midoriya was here, he’d be asking you if you could control Principal Nezu, since he’s not human.”

… That was a good question.  

“Speaking of Midoriya,” said Satou, as if they hadn’t been doing exactly that all along, “I don’t think we can overthrow the government without him.  He’s our plan guy, usually.”

“Even with Nezu?” asked Hizashi.  

The members of class 1-A seemed thoughtful.

“Maybe.”

“Yeah, maybe.”

“Wait, wait, wait,” said Mineta, “we’re serious about that? I thought it was a joke.”

“Okay,” said Yaoyorozu, “perhaps we should discuss our other options first.”

“Oh!” said Aoyama.  “We could become vigilantes!”

“What…  What would be the point of that?” asked Hitoshi.  

Aoyama did not have an answer.  

Hizashi’s phone started ringing.  “Oh, no,” he said, “it’s him.  Does he know I’ve been calling him the rat god behind his back?”

“Probably,” said Kayama-sensei, “but I don’t think that’s what this is about.”

Hizashi answered his phone.  “Heeeeeyyyyyy, Principal Nezu, what-?  Oh!  Oh, yeah, yeah, we were planning on that, but we weren’t sure—yeah, yeah, I’ll tell them, and –” He went pale.  “You already knew about that, huh?  Haha, yeah, yep, okay, okay.  See you soon?”  He cringed as he hung up.  “He wants us all back at school before the commission decides to interrogate us. Also, he said to check the news.”

“It’s just going to be more slander of Midoriya,” said Jirou, looking at her own phone, “why both—Oh.”

“Still can’t believe they think Midoriya kidnapped All Might,” mumbled one of Shouji’s free mouth hands as Hitoshi unlocked his own phone.  

“I know.  Do you remember when he came into the cafeteria to ask Midoriya to eat lunch with him?” asked Kaminari.

“Which time?” asked Dark Shadow, cackling.  

“It was cute, kero,” said Asui.  “I have pictures.”

“We can use those for the social media campaign!”

Hitoshi’s news app loaded.  He looked up and met Jirou’s eyes.  Judging by her pale face, what he’d seen wasn’t a hallucination.  

.

“Am I a dog, a mouse, or a bear?” chirped Nezu as he answered his phone.  “One thing’s for sure, I’m Principal Nezu?  How can I help you, Mr. Hero Commission President?”

“I’m sure you’re following the news,” said the president.

“Of course,” said Nezu, patting Eri’s head.  She’d been staring at his phone like a predator faced with prey since he answered.  They had, indeed, been watching the news.  

“We need Midoriya Izuku’s medical records and the blood sample you have from him. You should have it ready by the time our investigators arrive.”

“Oh?  Investigators?”

“To search Midoriya Izuku’s personal effects for clues. You should also prepare Chisaki Eri, Togata Mirio, and the teachers involved in Midoriya Izuku’s education for questioning.”

“Thank you for giving me a heads up, Mr. President.”

There was a suspicious silence on the other end of the line.  “What are you planning?”

“Nothing at all!”

“You aren’t going to win this fight.”

“What fight, Mr. President?  Aren’t we both on the side of heroes?”

“If you get in our way, I will make sure your precious school goes down with Midoriya.”

“Oh-ho!  Is that a threat, Mr. President?”

“A promise.  Public opinion isn’t something you can think your way out of, and UA has been on thin ice since the attack on the USJ.”

“I see,” said Nezu, fighting against the urge to bare his teeth and snarl.  “In any case, I will not stand in the way of the law.”

“Good.”

The line went dead.  “Oh, dear,” said Nezu.  “He really doesn’t understand me at all.”

“What areya going to do?” asked Eri.  

“Follow the law,” said Nezu.  

Eri scowled.

“Bothering by the book, sir?” asked Togata, who had been hiding in Aizawa’s kitchen, baking.  

“Oh, yes.  The good heroes who were here earlier had the authority to request a piece of Midoriya-kun’s clothing, but what Mr. Hero Commission President is asking for is quite different.”  

“How?” asked Eri.  

“They need certain forms and paperwork in order to force me to do so much as let them in the front gate.  Which cannot, of course, be opened to outsiders by teachers without my express permission.  And if I am involved in an emergency involving one of my wards at the time…”

“That’s me!” said Eri, bouncing on the couch.  

“Indeed, it is.”

“So,” she said, “I’ve got to be an em-er-gen-cy?” she asked, carefully sounding out the word.”

“You don’t need to do anything,” said Nezu, “except say that I was occupied with you when the commission representatives arrived.”

Eri nodded very seriously.  “Can we watch Deku kick the bad guy again?”

Nezu chortled.  

“Did I say something funny?” asked Eri, her face pinching again.  

“Not at all, not at all.  I’m just imagining how others might react to you calling Hawks a bad guy.”

“He’s fighting Deku, so he’s a bad guy.”

“Immaculate logic, young lady,” said Nezu, patting Eri on the head.  

.

Izuku walked through Nana’s misty memories, searching for her and Suzuki.  

Hopefully, Nana hadn’t reached through the dream to kill the guy in real life.  He didn’t like Suzuki.  In fact, he pretty much hated him.  But murder was still, well, murder.  

He had some things to talk to Nana about.  

The far more comprehensive connection he currently had to One for All, thanks to Saito-san’s quirk, meant that he knew far more than he usually did, about One for All, the others, All for One, and even himself.  Enough that he was twitching for his notebook and pencil, because he was afraid he would forget once the quirk wore off.  

One of the things he knew now was that One for All had usability adaptations.  Little things that tweaked the user’s body and subconscious in such a way that made the quirk actually viable.  Required secondary powers, to use an older term.  

A common one was the heat and burn resistance most fire users had.  Bakugou had lighters in his palms to set his sweat off.  Tokoyami had amazing night vision.  Hagakure was resistant to cancer.  

One for All read the DNA of potential recipients, to see if they could handle the quirk.  One couldn’t go shoving quirks into random people all willy-nilly, even if the quirk in question was One for All.  That’s why the noumu were so messed up.  All for One didn’t have that compatibility-checking adaptation.  

But since compatibility here was a function of both mentality and DNA… that meant…

“Were you ever going to tell me that we’re all related?” he asked Nana.  “Speaking of which.”  He pointed at the memory-shade of a young Gran Torino.  “How is it that everyone I’m related to is so tall?  Why are Mom and I midgets?  And where did the green hair come from?  I’m having a crisis.”

Nana chuckled, but it was a sad sound.  “Thanks for trying to cheer me up, kiddo.”

(The effect would have been better if her boots weren’t stained with blood.)

“Okay, but seriously,” said Izuku, sitting on the railing next to Nana.  They watched the memory play out.  “You guys all knew.  Why didn’t you say anything?  I think Toshinori’d be happy to be related to you, even if it’s only tangentially.”

“But would he be happy with the other part?”

“Huh?”

“Being related to him.”

“I think he’d overlook that.  I mean, One was related to him, too.  So it doesn’t really matter.  And I’m…”  He faltered. They had yet to confront this particular thing.  

“You should talk to One and Four,” suggested Nana, gently. “Their perspective is probably closest to yours.”

“Will I have time?”

“As long as we’re with you, eventually,” said Nana.  “This,” she gestured at the dreamscape, “changes things.  You know this feeling, now.  You won’t forget.”

Izuku nodded.  “Should I call you grandma, now?”

“That makes me feel old.”

“You are old.”

“Ouch, kid.  But sure.”

“That aside, I do want to know where the green hair comes from.”

Nana sighed.  “It’s from me.  I used to dye my hair.  Then I got a stylist to permanently change it with a quirk.”

“But… why?”

Nana slumped sideways.  “The kids at my school…  They were always saying, ‘Oh, Nana, you’re so green.  Just like your name.  Green Vegetable Nana.”

“Name related trauma is something we have in common.”

“Unfortunately.”

“So.  Suzuki.”

“Under that rock.”  She pointed to a massive boulder.  

Izuku sighed.  “What are we going to do with him?”

“Your call,” said Nana.  

“Does it have to be?”

.

Gigantomachia shrugged dirt and trees from his shoulders and sniffed the air.  The radio around his neck crackled as the doctor stopped transmitting.  This, he decided, catching the scent of the Little Lord, was a joyful day.  

Only once before had he received the privilege of smelling this scent.  That day was eternally carved into his memory.  The Little Lord had been so small, but so smart!  So cunning!  So much better than Shigaraki Tomura!

Machia wondered if he would still be small, or if he had grown up to be as big as Lord!  Or even Machia!

Probably, he would not be as big as Machia.  Still!

How wonderful!  

Machia wondered if the Little Lord would smile at him again. That had been nice.  

[spookysweet-heart]

Freak Show

Request: No

Parings: Circus!Egos x Fem!Reader

Fandom: Youtube Egos (Mark, Jack, Nate)

Warning: Dream manipulation, Nightmares.

A/N: Here’s Part Two of The Circus of Souls series. Part one can be found here! This is directly after the first one so please read it if you haven’t yet! The lovely aesthetic I’ll be using is by the very talented @huffle-princess​! The songs that I use in this part are FreakShow by The Nearly Deads and Enjoy The Show by NateWantsToBattle. Edited by @semiproeagle23​!

     Immediately after getting home, you tossed the book and tickets on your desk. Sitting on your bed, you felt your heart pounding in your chest. “What the fuck was that…?” 

Deciding not to go through with your original plan, you ended up running home. Glancing at the tickets, you felt off. There was a reason you knew you couldn’t leave just yet. 

Shaking your head, you sighed in frustration. Standing up and running a hand through your hair, you started to head out to the bathroom down the hall to get ready for bed.

Getting back into your room, you threw yourself on your bed and rolled over to pull the covers up so you could get underneath them. After getting comfortable, you looked over at the book one more time. It still didn’t feel right. Turning around, you turned off your bedside lamp, letting sleep take over.

It didn’t take long before you were drifting off. The room fell into a silence that didn’t feel inviting at all, but you brushed it off, thinking it was just your imagination from your interaction with the Ringleader.

Your breathing started to even out when you finally fell asleep, not noticing when the book on your desk opened on its own as a breeze passed through, making the pages turn. The book stopped on the third page with the man who was on a stage surrounded by smoke. The golden light that shined earlier in the day appeared again as purple smoke emerged from the page.

The smoke made its way above you, as if making sure you were asleep. When it was positive that you were, it made its way inside, phasing through your body.

Walking through a dark abandoned building, the only light source that you could see was from the moon shining through the windows. Your bare feet on the cold white tile made a shiver run down your spine.

When you looked around the open space, you noticed shadows on the walls were moving while you walked. It took a second to realize that they were children’s shadows. 

Stopping in the middle of the huge room, you closed your eyes, telling yourself it was just a dream, that nothing could hurt you. “C’mon, it’s just a dream...you can change it. Please change, I don’t want to be here.” 

Feeling a breeze pass by, you opened your eyes, seeing you were still in the building, but the shadows were now surrounding you. Looking at them, you asked, “What do you want? What is this place?” 

You started to hear whispers and giggles of children all around. “Help me…”, “Please save us...”, “Don’t let him trick you…” Taking a step forward, the kids moved, letting you walk away from them. Each step you took became quicker than the last until you started to run away, but the voices and giggles still rang in your ears.

Turning a corner, you saw there was an open room. Peeking inside, you saw there was an almost empty table. Hesitantly stepping inside, you noticed that the voices stopped when your eyes landed on a small toy carousel sitting in the middle of the table. 

Just as you were about to touch it, the tiny lights turned on, making the horses move around as a circus jingle started to play. Standing there, you were too preoccupied to notice a taller shadow move behind you across the hall.

The small breeze that passed by was what caught your attention to turn away. Walking back out into the hallway, you heard faint music coming from the end of it. It sounded just like the one coming from the carousel.

Following the echoing music, you felt uneasy again as you were getting closer. Hearing a crowd of people cheer gave you a little bit of hope that maybe this dream was turning into something good after all. Unfortunately, right as you entered the room, all you saw was a stage at the far end. 

The music got louder as the invisible cheers did. Looking around, you saw purple smoke make its way to the stage. 

As the stage lights came on, the smoke disappeared, leaving a man in a black and purple outfit in its place center stage.

He smiled, hearing the crowd cheer as he raised his mic to his lips. “You wanna take a look inside my head, you wanna analyze the things I’ve said. Well here we go again, I know what you’re gonna find. I know I’ve sought revenge, that I’ve cheated, and I’ve lied.” 

Jumping down, he started to make his way to you, leaving a trail of purple smoke with each step he took. “I’ve been selfish, and unkind, and reckless and unwise. There’s nothing you can say to change me. I need to save myself. But you asked, so here we go.” 

Lifting up his hand, a spotlight shined on him as the rest of the room turned black. “Welcome to the FreakShow, all my friends are here.” Gesturing to the crowd, you looked around seeing the children from before. “Jealousy and love, envy, lust, corruption, fear. Welcome to the headache I wake up with every day.” 

The man grinned as he stood right in front of you. He gently grabbed your chin with his free hand, making you look up at him. “Be careful what you wish for, or you’ll end up just like me…” Purple smoke started to surround you both as he continued to sing. “You’ll end just like me...just like me…” 

Feeling your chest tighten when it got harder to breathe, you started to panic, trying to escape, but you couldn't move a muscle. The man leaned down as he whispered in your ear. “Be careful, (Y/n). You don’t want the fate we suffer everyday…” 

You wanted to ask what he meant by that, but he only placed a hand above your chest. You closed your eyes and the next thing you knew, you were shoved back with a sharp pain hitting your chest.

Feeling as if you were falling, you woke up startled, sitting up in bed. Frantically looking around, you took everything in, realizing you were back in your room. Looking at your desk, you saw the book was still closed, just how you left it. 

Laying back in bed, you turned your head towards your window, seeing it was morning. 

Breathing a bit heavily, you stretched out your arms when you reluctantly got up from your bed. 

Trying to calm yourself down, you placed a hand where his hand was before. Slowing down your breathing, you felt your chest become less heavy by the second.

Picking up your phone, you saw you had a few missed texts from your group chat.

“Do you guys wanna go to the Circus?”

“It’s the opening night, isn’t it?”

“Yeah! I asked my mom if she’d give me a few extra dollars for a ticket.”

“I’m up for it! But I don’t have much money for a ticket.“

“Same here…”

“Sneak in?”

Walking over to your desk, you picked up one of the tickets. “The Circus of Souls….I don’t like this...but there has to be a reason. I know that nightmare wasn’t by chance.” Looking at your phone when it vibrated, you saw it was a new message in the chat.

“Hey, (Y/n)! You’re awake! You wanna go to the Circus?”

You felt a bit nervous when you replied.

“Yeah! And don’t worry about the tickets, guys. I was able to get some for all of us. Free for the whole week.”

“Free?! How’d you get that?!”

“That’s a secret! Meet me by the entrance around 5. Okay?”

Tossing your phone on your bed, you started to get ready for later.

Adjusting the strap on your bookbag, tickets in hand, you looked over at the crowd when you heard someone yell out your name. 

Seeing Stretch wave, you smiled and waved to her, making your way to the group. “Hey!”

“Hey, are those the tickets?” Meer looked over at your hand, seeing four tickets.

“Oh! Yeah! These are it! They’re valid for the whole week!” You gave her a smile and handed each of them a ticket. “Before we go in, can I talk to you guys real quick?”

“Yeah, what’s up?” Sam smiled, putting the ticket in her pocket.

“Before we go in there, you have to promise me that you guys won’t break away from the group?”

“Sure, but why?” Stretch raised an eyebrow, looking at you confused.

“Because...uh…” Looking between the three girls, your eyes landed on Meer. “Because Meer’s afraid of crowds remember! It’s better if we all stick together so she feels comfortable right?”

“That would actually help a lot, honestly…” Meer’s cheeks became a light pink, feeling sheepish as she looked around at the group.

“Hey, don’t feel bad, we’re all afraid of something, right?” Sam wrapped an arm around her friend's shoulders. “I mean, you can stay with me when these guys go on the rides that take off the ground. I’m not a fan of heights.”

“Okay...sure thing!” Meer smiled again and followed your lead as the group made its way to the ticket booth.

Showing the man at the booth your tickets, he smiled at you as he took it. “Don’t worry about bringing these back, you can just hand them over. The boss man said you and your friends would be coming tonight.”

“Thanks?” You shrugged your shoulders, acting like you had no idea what he was talking about. “Let’s go!” Smiling and leading the group further into the Circus, you were all immediately hit with the smells of fresh popcorn, cotton candy, and fried dough.

Stretch was the first one to suggest you play some games first before going on any rides. Throughout the night, you all challenged each other to the various games and silly dares you four could do. Time flew by, and you almost forgot the real reason you were here tonight.

“We haven’t gotten on any of the rides…” Stretch pouted, grabbing her bag of popcorn from the lady at the stand.

“I wanted to see the animal tamer! Did you see the tiger she’s working with, holy shit!” Meer almost dropped her bag of popcorn in excitement.

“There’s a Fortune Teller booth I kinda wanted to check out too..”  Sam slightly pouted as she turned to the group, handing you your bag of popcorn.

Taking the bag, you giggled a bit. “Okay, okay, I know you all wanted to do things, but we have all week, right? We still have time to do all of it.” 

Just as Stretch was about to speak up, a loud voice over the speakers ran through the area. “Attention! Attention! The Circus of Souls would like to invite you all to the main tent for a spectacular music performance!” 

The mention of a music performance made your blood run cold as you stood there. There was no way it could be the same man you saw in your dreams, could it?

“(Y/n)? Hey, (Y/n)!” Stretch waved a hand in front of your face, trying to snap you out of it.

You blinked and took a step back. “Whoa, what the fuck, dude?”

“You were spacing out there, dork. We asked you if you wanted to go see the performance?”

“Oh,” Looking at your group, you nodded. “Yeah, sure! It’ll be a fun end to the first night, wouldn’t it?”

Walking into the huge red tent made you feel on edge, to say the least. What made you stop in your tracks was seeing Phantom greeting guests. “Welcome! Oh, well I see you made it  my dear. Come in, come in! You three must be (Y/n)’s friends. Thank you tagging along. Please, take a seat at the front. There’s four spots waiting for you all.”

Nodding, you silently made your way to the front where the empty seats were, ignoring the looks your friends were giving you.

As the four of you sat down, Stretch beat everyone to the point. “What the hell was that, (Y/n)? You made friends with the Ringleader himself?”

“No! We're not friends…I went exploring the tracks yesterday to clear my head and I sorta bumped into him...”

Before any of you could continue the conversation, the lights went out and a single spot light shined center stage. Only this time, there stood a man in red. His tophat was slightly slanting to one side as he leaned the slightest amount of his weight on his cane for a second before lifting it and greeting everyone.

“Hello, boys and girls. Welcome to The Circus of Souls! I hope you all are enjoying our opening night here in your cozy little town. Thank you for being here and trusting us to entertain you for the evening.” 

He glanced over at you before he smiled and continued to address the crowd. “Now, the show you are about to see may be harmful to some since we’ll be using bright lights, flashing lights, and....a bit of disturbing imagery. I know I just greeted you all in, but if there are those of you who are sensitive to these types of things, I suggest you leave the tent immediately for your own safety."

A few groups of people started to leave the tent, only taking a few moments. Making sure everyone was out of harm's way, Phantom grinned as he waved his hand, bowing to the audience. “With that out of the way, I wish you all a fun and safe night here.”

As the spotlight disappeared, the red undertone turned to purple. You felt the same pain in your chest seeing the purple smoke cover the stage. The music started as your eyes scanned the stage before they landed on a familiar silhouette.

A voice over the speakers rang out, startling you. “Ladies and Gentlemen, Boys and Girls! Gather 'Round, Gather 'Round. Sit Back, Relax, and please, stay in your seats.”

You gripped the strap of your book bag, listening and looking right at the silhouette. “Kick your feet up, and grab some popcorn. Oh, and of course! Lest we not forget!” Feeling warmth by the left side of your face, the next phrase made the hair on your neck stand up, hearing it closer than you expected. “Enjoy The Show”

The stage lights came on, making your eyes widen, seeing him standing there center stage like in your nightmare.

“Come One, Come All! And Behold we have a Sight Immeasurable, A Spectacle, Of Innocence and Fright. Oh Maybe 2, 3, 4 or even five long nights. Now you're crawling, ever stalling. With no end in sight. Up all night to see if you can make it. All new friends to see if you can take it! Be still, be quiet. They still know you haven't left yet!”

White and purple lights started to flash throughout the tent. The purple smoke still covered the bottom of the stage. The man soon encouraged the crowd to  come up to the stage while the band continued to play.

“And We'll Pretend. We'll just pretend, pretend that day would never end. I'll make believe that you can see. Everything they did to me. Nowhere to hide and now we're through but if we were just like you. I'll be your friend, I'll be your friend. You can trust me 'till the end.”

Stretch pulled you and the others to the front of the stage, grinning in excitement as everyone started to make their way too.

He smiled down at everyone as he waved to the crowd, making his way across the stage to see everyone else. “There's something bad inside me, I'm broken beyond fixing. Save me! I know that we've all been here. It only hurts a second, there's nothing to fear!”

Making his way further from the crowd, the purple smoke covered the audience so they weren't able to see the stage.

“I have you hidden way too well. It's time to let you out, put on a mask to hide yourself. That made you one of us now!”

The smoke subsided in a flash of white light. Looking back up, you noticed he had purple streaks running down his cheeks now. “And we'll pretend, we'll Just pretend. Pretend that day would never end. I'll make believe that you can see everything they did to me. Nowhere to hide, and now we're through. But if we were just like you. I'll be your friend, I'll be your friend. You can trust me 'till the end.”

He reached out his free hand to you, pulling you up on stage with him. You looked down at your friends, and they were only cheering, seeing you up on stage. The man got your attention by grabbing your chin like he'd done before. Looking into his eyes, you saw they were black with swirls of bright purple.

“We need you, so we can escape. If they find you, it'll be too late, We need you, so we can escape.” Glancing around, you saw the children you saw in your nightmare. They were pale and thin, as if they were ghosts. “If they find you, it'll be too late.”  Turning you around so you were facing the crowd, he wrapped his free arm around your waist, holding you against his chest and swaying with you, singing out to the crowd. You looked around and saw the children come closer.

“And we'll pretend, we'll just pretend, pretend that day would never end. I'll make believe that you can see everything they did to me. Nowhere to hide and now we're through. But if we were just like you.” The man let you go when one of the kids almost touched you. Helping you down, he smiled as he let go of your hand. He looked at you through the end of the song. Your friends took notice, only smiling for now. “I'll be your friend, I'll be your friend. You can trust me 'till the end. Now we're afraid, we're all afraid. Afraid that it might be too late! They never learn to wait their turn. Now we get to watch them burn.”

The lights started to slowly fade. The smoke disappeared from the crowd and slowly rose around the band. “Nowhere to hide and now we're through. But if we were just like you, I'll be your friend, I'll be your friend. You can trust me 'till the end….Trust me till the end!” The last thing you saw were his eyes shining bright purple before the smoke covered them.

The lights went out for a second and when they came back on, the stage was empty, save for the Ringleader again. “Well, wasn’t that entertaining! What did you all think?”

The crowd cheered enthusiastically, making the small orb on his cane light up. 

“I’m glad you enjoyed the little show our incredible singer, Natemare, performed. He’s known to have a flair for the dramatics, if you couldn’t tell already.” The crowd roared in laughter. 

In a matter of seconds, the laughs turned to clapping and cheers when Natemare walked out, standing next to Phantom. He had a grin on his face he bowed, soaking in all the enthusiasm. “Thank you! Though, I couldn’t have done it without the brave soul that let me bring them up here with me.” He looked down at you, smiling, and gave you a wink. 

“I’ll be here all week, so if you’d like to see another performance, my time stamps should be on display just outside this tent.”

Phantom wrapped an arm around Natemare’s shoulders, waving to the crowd. “Goodnight everyone! Thank you for making our opening night one we won’t forget! Be safe traveling home, now!”

As the crowds filed out of the Circus, Meer grabbed your arm. You looked around, seeing them all looking at you and giggling. 

“What is it?” Taking your arm back, you turned around and faced them.

“Oh, c’mon, (Y/n), you don’t have to hide it.”

“Hide what?”

“You have to tell us! Was he as cute up close?” Sam squealed in excitement, remembering the scene.

“I bet he was! Please tell us!” Stretch grinned, grabbing your hand.

“More like he was terrifying…”

“Huh?” All three girls look at you confused.

“I….I had a nightmare last night and he was in it. I don’t know how to explain this, but I feel like there’s a reason we happened to see him perform today and the fact he picked me out of everyone?”

“Uh oh, I think (Y/n) has a crush on him. Aww, that's so cute! He’s like your dream boy or something.” Sam giggled as she poked your cheek.

You moved her hand away and pouted at the three of them.”It’s not like that at all! Guys, please listen to me, there's something going on here. Didn’t you see those kids up there?!”

“Yeah, but the Ringleader said there would be disturbing imagery, they were probably holograms or something.” Meer adjusted her bag a bit.

“...I know they weren’t holograms. I know I’m sounding crazy right now, but can you three just listen to what I have to say first and then you can say whatever the hell you want after?”

The three girls looked at each other and shrugged their shoulders. “Alright, we’ll listen.”

“Thank you. Can we meet up at the park by my house tomorrow morning?”

“Yeah, not too early though.” Meer looked around when she noticed everyone was staring at her. “What? I don’t like waking up super early…”

“Yeah, sure, we’ll meet around eleven. Does that work for everyone?”

Nodding in agreement, the four of you headed home. After a long, and sort of fun night, you just wanted to go to sleep.

Dropping your bag by your bed, you immediately fell onto your bed, not caring about changing or properly laying on your bed. Almost instantly falling asleep, the purple smoke emerged from your bag as Natemare took form. He looked at you for a moment before using his smoke to get you under your blankets without waking you. “I’ll give you a break tonight. You need it, kid…”

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[twoidiotwriters1]

Written In The Stars CXLI (Harry Potter xF!Oc)

A/N: That’s right PoA gifs are making a comeback -Danny

Words: 3,121

Series’ Masterlist

Previous Chapter // Next Chapter

Chapter Three: A Brief Talk.

Mel was packing up the stuff she'd taken to the mission when someone knocked on the front door. 

She heard Erick said he'd get it a second later. Mel put everything in her bag and hung it over her shoulder, rushing out of her room. Dumbledore stared at them with a smile.

"I must say you worked faster than expected."

"We did our best — Oh!" Erick went to the living room and grabbed his bag, drawing out the men's wands. "These are from the death eaters — maybe you'll be able to track them down?"

"I could, if Ollivander hadn't gone missing," Dumbledore said sadly. Mel didn't ask about it, she wasn't ready for any more bad news. "Anything I should know?"

"Yeah," Mel approached. "I'm upset."

Dumbledore gazed at her quietly.

"I said I'd tell you everything and I will, but you must wait a bit longer. We'll visit Harry's house tonight, and pay a visit to Slughorn."

"You said we couldn't talk to him."

"This time will be different. This time I'll go with you."

"How wonderful," Mel said sarcastically.

"I'll get my stuff," Erick gave her a look that was meant to stop her rudeness.

"Very well," Dumbledore nodded, "do close the door on your way out, Mr Flint."

She followed him out in silence, her uncle approached the entrance of the Dursley's house and knocked on it.

"Were you in danger?"

"No."  

"Then you know I didn't lie."

"You didn't tell us everything," She replied. "You keep withholding information and I'm not some disposable thing you can use as you please —"

"That was never my intention," Dumbledore interrupted. "By the end of the year you'll know all, and you'll understand why I've acted this way."

Mel seriously doubted that but she'd been proven wrong before, she was willing to hear his side of the story.

Mr Dursley complained all the way to the door, he opened it abruptly, freezing at the sight.

"Good evening. You must be Mr Dursley. I daresay Harry has told you I would be coming for him?"

Harry rushed down the stairs and stopped at a considerable distance from his uncle. He looked torn between amusement and panic, holding a pair of trainers in one hand and a telescope in the other.

The young witch eyed Mr Dursley up and down and held back a smirk. He was wearing a reddish dressing-gown. The last time she'd been standing this close to the man he'd looked gigantic, now he was barely able to reach her nose.

"Judging by your look of stunned disbelief, Harry did not warn you that we were coming," Dumbledore said happily. "However, let us assume that you have invited me warmly into your house. It is unwise to linger overlong on doorsteps in these troubled times. It is a long time since my last visit, I must say, your agapanthus are flourishing. What do you think, Mel?"

"Oh, it's been years," Her voice trembled with contained laughter. "The house looks exactly as I remember, though. Is your chimney still the same after the Weasleys burst through it?"

Harry snorted at this, and this caught the old man's attention.

"Ah, good evening Harry... Excellent, excellent."

"I don't mean to be rude —" Mr Dursley spoke.

"— yet, sadly, accidental rudeness occurs alarmingly often. Best to say nothing at all, my dear man. Ah, and this must be Petunia— Albus Dumbledore, we have corresponded, of course. And this must be your son, Dudley?"

Mel looked at the boy, it had been almost two years since she'd last seen him: He was muscly big, with the body of a trained wrestler. She didn't like that he'd be able to kill a child with his bare hands and call it a sport.

"Shall we assume that you have invited us into your sitting room?

Dumbledore crossed the hall and she followed, Harry jumped the last steps and approached them.

"Aren't — aren't we leaving?" He inquired.

"Yes, indeed we are, but there are a few matters we need to discuss first. And I would prefer not to do so in the open. We shall trespass upon your aunt and uncle's hospitality only a little longer."

"You will, will you?" The Dursleys were all glaring at them.

"Yes, I shall."

He drew his wand so rapidly that Harry barely saw it; with a casual flick, the sofa zoomed forward and knocked the knees out from under all three of the Dursleys so that they collapsed upon it in a heap. Another flick of the wand and the sofa zoomed back to its original position.

"We may as well be comfortable."

"Sir," Harry started anxiously. "What happened to your — ?"

"Later, Harry. Please sit down."

The boy looked at her searching for an answer, but she had none. It was her first time seeing Dumbledore's injury as well. She walked up to the armchair and stood next to where her uncle had seated. Harry sat in front of them.

"I would assume that you were going to offer me refreshment, but the evidence so far suggests that that would be optimistic to the point of foolishness."

A third twitch of the wand, and a dusty bottle and five glasses appeared in midair. The bottle tipped and poured a generous measure of honey-coloured liquid into each of the glasses, which then floated to each person in the room.

"Madam Rosmerta's finest oak-matured mead," said Dumbledore.

Mel took her glass and inhaled the sweet scent before drinking it, hiding her grin. She was starting to feel less annoyed now that Dumbledore was torturing the Dursleys with his displays of magic.

"Well, a difficulty has arisen which I hope you will be able to solve for us. By us, I mean the Order of the Phoenix. But first of all, I must tell you, kids, that Sirius's will was discovered a week ago."

"Oh. Right..." Harry muttered.

"This is, in the main, fairly straightforward. You add a reasonable amount of gold to your account at Gringotts, and you inherit a few of Sirius's personal possessions. Emily knows this of course, but Sirius left the other half of his gold to you and your brother, Mel. As well as the rest of his belongings, which you'll be able to use once you're of age."

It was obvious Leon was going to inherit stuff from Sirius, the man was eager to provide for his new family, he wanted to be there, make sure his son would never be left to his luck.

"The slightly problematic part of the legacy —"

"His godfather's dead?" Mr Dursley interrupted. "He's dead? His godfather?"

"Yes," said Dumbledore without further explanation. "Our problem is that Sirius also left you number twelve, Grimmauld Place. To the three of you."

"He's been left a house?" Mr Dursley questioned.

"He's not done talking," Mel snapped, Mr Dursley turned purple at her statement.

"You can keep using it as headquarters," said Harry. "I don't care. You can have it, I don't really want it."

"Me neither," Mel accepted. "I don't need it, nor I think my brother will want to use it once he's old enough."

"Brother?" Mrs Dursley asked in bewilderment.

"That is generous," said Dumbledore. "We have, however, vacated the building temporarily."

"Why?"

"Well, Black family tradition decreed that the house was handed down the direct line, to the next male with the name of 'Black.' Your brother should be the one to take it, but we can't be sure if the rules apply since Emily and Sirius decided to use her last name. While Sirius' will makes it perfectly plain that he wants you to have the house, it is nevertheless possible that some spell or enchantment has been set upon the place to ensure that it cannot be owned by anyone other than a pureblood."

"I bet there has," Harry lamented.

"Quite. And if such an enchantment exists, then the ownership of the house is most likely to pass to the eldest of Sirius's living relatives, which would mean his cousin, Bellatrix Lestrange."

Harry stood up in distress.

"No..."

"Well, obviously we would prefer that she didn't get it either. The situation is fraught with complications. We do not know whether the enchantments we ourselves have placed upon it, for example, making it Unplottable, will hold now that ownership has passed from Sirius's hands. It might be that Bellatrix will arrive on the doorstep at any moment. Naturally, we had to move out until such time as we have clarified the position."

"But how are you going to find out if we're allowed to own it?"

"Fortunately, there is a simple test."

"Will you get these ruddy things off us?" Mr Dursley yelled.

Harry looked around; all three of the Dursleys were cowering with their arms over their heads as their glasses bounced up and down on their skulls, their contents flying everywhere.

"Oh, I'm so sorry... But it would have been better manners to drink it, you know."

Mel left her glass on the coffee table and waited.

"You see," Dumbledore continued, "if you have indeed inherited the house, you have also inherited..."

There was a loud crack, and a house-elf appeared, with a snout for a nose, giant bat's ears, and enormous bloodshot eyes, crouching on the Dursleys' shag carpet and covered in grimy rags.  Aunt Petunia let out a hair-raising shriek; nothing this filthy had entered her house in living memory.

"Kreacher," said Dumbledore.

"Kreacher won't, Kreacher won't, Kreacher won't! Kreacher belongs to Miss Bellatrix, oh yes, Kreacher belongs to the Blacks, Kreacher wants his new mistress, Kreacher won't go to the brats and the Black bastard! Kreacher won't, won't, won't —"

"As you can see," said Dumbledore over the yelling, "Kreacher is showing a certain reluctance to pass into your ownership."

"I don't care," said Harry with repulsion. "I don't want him."

"Won't, won't, won't, won't —"

"You would prefer him to pass into the ownership of Bellatrix Lestrange? Bearing in mind that he has lived at the headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix for the past year?"

"Won't, won't, won't, won't —"

"No," Mel replied, "we need him far from them."

"Give him an order," said Dumbledore. "If he has passed into your ownership, he will have to obey. If not, then we shall have to think of some other means of keeping him from his rightful mistress."

"Won't, won't, won't, WON'T !"

"Kreacher, shut up!" Harry demanded.

It looked for a moment as though Kreacher was going to choke. He grabbed his throat, his mouth still working furiously, his eyes bulging. After a few seconds of frantic gulping, he threw himself face forward onto the carpet (Aunt Petunia whimpered) and beat the floor with his hands and feet, giving himself over to a violent, but entirely silent, tantrum.

"Well, that simplifies matters," said Dumbledore brightly. "It seems that Sirius knew what he was doing. You three are the rightful owners of number twelve, Grimmauld Place and of Kreacher."

"Wonderful, I own a haunted mansion," Mel sat heavily on the armrest of Dumbledore's chair.

"Do we have to keep him with us?" Harry asked.

"Not if you don't want to. If I might make a suggestion, you could send him to Hogwarts to work in the kitchen there. In that way, the other house-elves could keep an eye on him."

"Yeah," said Harry, "yeah, let's do that. Er — Kreacher — I want you to go to Hogwarts and work in the kitchens there with the other house-elves."

"You're not allowed to leave your duties unless we ask you otherwise," Mel added.

Kreacher, who was now lying flat on his back with his arms and legs in the air, gave Harry one upside-down look of deepest loathing and, with another loud crack, vanished.

"Good. There is also the matter of the hippogriff, Buckbeak. Hagrid has been looking after him since Sirius died, but Buckbeak is yours now, so if you would prefer to make different arrangements —"

"No," said both of them, then Harry added, "He can stay with Hagrid. I think Buckbeak would prefer that."

"Hagrid will be delighted. He was thrilled to see Buckbeak again. Incidentally, we have decided, in the interests of Buckbeak's safety, to rechristen him 'Witherwings' for the time being, though I doubt that the Ministry would ever guess he is the hippogriff they once sentenced to death. Now, Harry, is your trunk packed?"

"Erm..." Harry blushed.

"Doubtful that I would turn up?" Dumbledore smiled.

"I'll just go and — er — finish off," said Harry, picking up his telescope and trainers.

"I'll help," Mel said.

It was the first time she'd ever been in his room. The only time she'd managed to look around was when they rescued him on the Ford Anglia. It was evident this was the only place in the house Harry was allowed to exist freely: A bit messy from running around and packing everything in a hurry, but she didn't mind it at all.

"Cozy," She teased.

"Shut it," He replied, hastily picking up his stuff. "I should've known... of course he wouldn't leave me..."

"You had your reasons to doubt," She shrugged, then added. "We both do..."

Harry stopped and looked at her, but she wasn't in the mood to talk. Mel helped him pack and soon enough everything was in place, she grabbed Hedwig's cage and smiled at the creature.

"Hi there..." She looked back at him. "I'll never forget the look on your uncle's face when we arrived, he looked so frightened!"

"I'm glad I don't have to stay," He picked up his stuff and guided her out. "Because he would murder me if I did..."

Mel snorted, following him to the hall. However, Dumbledore hadn't moved.

"Professor?" Harry spoke. "I'm ready now."

"Good. Just one last thing, then... As you will no doubt be aware, Harry comes of age in a year's time —"

"No," said Mrs Dursley.

"I'm sorry?" said Dumbledore.

"No, he doesn't. He's a month younger than Dudley, and Dudders doesn't turn eighteen until the year after next."

"Ah," He smiled, "but in the Wizarding world, we come of age at seventeen."

"Preposterous," mumbled Vernon.

"Now, as you already know, the wizard called Lord Voldemort has returned to this country. The Wizarding community is currently in a state of open warfare. Harry, whom Lord Voldemort has already attempted to kill on a number of occasions, is in even greater danger now than the day when I left him upon your doorstep fifteen years ago, with a letter explaining about his parents' murder and expressing the hope that you would care for him as though he were your own."

Dumbledore's air changed, and although it wasn't obvious, he was once again emanating power, now more than ever he looked like a man no one should try to upset.

"You did not do as I asked. You have never treated Harry as a son. He has known nothing but neglect and often cruelty at your hands. I'm thankful Emily agreed to move in next door all those years ago and relieved a bit of Harry's misery. The best that can be said is that he has at least escaped the appalling damage you have inflicted upon the unfortunate boy sitting between you."

"Us — mistreat Dudders? What d'you — ?"

"The magic I evoked fifteen years ago means that Harry has powerful protection while he can still call this house 'home.' However miserable he has been here, however unwelcome, however badly treated, you have at least, grudgingly, allowed him houseroom. This magic will cease to operate the moment that Harry turns seventeen; in other words, at the moment he becomes a man. I ask only this: that you allow Harry to return, once more, to this house, before his seventeenth birthday, which will ensure that the protection continues until that time."

Mel would've loved to add a few insults of her own, but she knew there was no use, they would never learn, would never feel guilty for treating Harry the way they did and to be honest, Dumbledore was right, Mel and her mother were his real family.

"Well... time for us to be off," said Dumbledore, standing up. "Until we meet again."

Mel looked at them one last time without saying anything, something in her felt different, there was a bittersweet emotion that kept her from enjoying herself, and at the same time stopped her from snapping.

"Bye," said Harry shortly.

"We do not want to be encumbered by these just now," Dumbledore said, pulling out his wand and pointing it towards the boy's trunk and owl. "I shall send them to the Burrow to await us there. However, I would like you to bring your Invisibility Cloak... just in case. And now, let us step out into the night and pursue that flighty temptress, adventure."

Erick was waiting patiently against the front of her mother's car. His backpack was hanging from one shoulder, and when he saw them he quickly approached.

"All good?"

"Yes, we just wanted to chat a moment before leaving."

"Chat?" Erick raised a brow, he knew the Dursleys weren't friendly people.

"We'll explain later. C'mon, time to go."

"We're not taking the car?"

"No," said Dumbledore. "It'll be faster if we use magic. Keep your wand at the ready."

"But I thought we're not allowed to use magic outside school, sir?" Harry asked.

"If there is an attack," said Dumbledore, "I give you and Mel permission to use any counter jinx or curse that might occur to you. However, I do not think you need worry about being attacked tonight."

"Why not, sir?"

"You are with me... This will do."

He stopped at the end of the street.

"You have not, of course, passed your Apparition Test," he said.

"No," said Harry. "I thought you had to be seventeen?"

"You do," said Dumbledore. "So you will need to hold on to my arm very tightly. My left, if you don't mind — as you have noticed, my wand arm is a little fragile at the moment."

Erick looked down briefly at his hand and paled.

"Professor, I passed my apparition test last month, I can take Mel so you don't tire yourself out."

The idea of Dumbledore 'tiring himself out' was laughable, but Mel didn't want Erick to feel stupid, and it appeared that Dumbledore was of the same mind.

"Very well, Mr Flint, if it's not much trouble..."

"It's not."

"You know where to go."

Erick offered his arm to her.

"Ready?"

"Like we have a choice," She groaned, firmly holding onto him.

Next Chapter —>

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