#I’m not particularly concerned about graphics or combat

[velvetjune]

i can confirm with last anon, i played bloober team's blair witch game and i dont know if uve ever seen it but. oh my god. what a way to completely split from source material and find a new horrible way to make a protagonist (its all about like. war ptsd for the main character but randomly in the midst of ooooh spooky woods and a witch ooohhh) im not sure i trust them at all with the sh2 remake.

I’m not familiar with any of their games (just looked them all up!), except that one Jerma clip of the kid running into a wall in Layers of Fear 😭 Sad for all Blair Witch fans out there. Haven’t seen the movie, but the original is a classic.

This entire Silent Hill remake is looking less and less appealing with every new thing I learn omg. It’s surprising to hear all this about the Bloober team because—just from a surface level look at their ratings—their games have all gotten pretty decent (above average) ratings. Although that’s definitely making me less confident in the remake’s positive reviews. While I don’t want to talk badly of a game I haven’t played, I’ll probably end up watching a playthrough to avoid buying it.

I appreciate the messages from you and the other anon!

[catofadifferentcolor]

Dragon Age: The Veilguard (2024)

"You are not my god."

My journey with Dragon Age starts picking DA2 out of a bargain bin at GameStop and falling absolutely in love. (Spoilers below the cut.)

Playing DA:O afterwards turned me off the series for years - I never, ever have been able to get into it - before giving DA:I a shot. I don't particularly love DA:I either, but it is a solid, quality game that I've replayed enough through the years to have been tentatively excited about DA:V.

And my initial thoughts were: oh my god this is so pretty (The hair looks like real hair! The water looks like real water! The snozzberries taste like real snozzberries!) but this doesn't feel like Dragon Age.

When interrupting Solas' ritual, I never would have guessed the demon we fought was a Pride demon without the commentary. It doesn't look anything close the the Pride demons of DA2 and DA:I... and while concept evolution is a thing it doesn't look like what I was expecting. It feels like an entirely different game, least so far as the demons were concerned.

I went in without expectations, avoiding all spoilers. And all I could do is keep asking where is Thedas? for the first 10 hours of the game.

THE GOOD:

The pacing was excellent. Too often DA:I devolved into tedium, with hours spent tracking down the last landmark, region, or shard. Circuits of Skyhold would show nothing had changed since the last major plot point. Not so here. There was a nice balance between main plot and side quests and exploration, which kept things from dragging. It was honestly a surprise to find I’d spent 50+ hours on the game.

Combat was excellent - once I got used to it. It was overwhelming at the beginning figuring out a new combat system, for which I felt drastically underpowered until I gained a few levels and turned down the difficulty, but once I got the hang of it I liked the frenetic madness. Weisshaupt in particular felt viscerally real despite the Blighted monsters you fought.

The graphics are excellent, facial expressions realistic, and day 1 bugs almost nonexistent. The game felt finished in a way many do not.

The companions were memorable, with backgrounds and quests unique and appropriate to each. I’ve issues with some of the specific quests, but the companions themselves were delightful - and worth rotating through. More like DA2, in its close knit group of friends, than DA:I, with many companions I honestly ignored in most play throughs.

Assan. A+, no notes, keep doing what you’re doing. 

THE BAD:

The world state. I can understand not wanting to have to port over thousands of decisions from three previous games, but when the three you do give us don’t seem to matter it’s hard not to get frustrated. My Inquisitor romanced Dorian and the only nod to it was a single line of dialogue at the very end. How hard would it have been been to add a second at Dorian’s introduction along the lines of, “my amatus speaks highly of you”? (I’m not even asking for much here. Add a couple more choices - whether the HoF lived or died, who Hawke sided with and whether they’re trapped in the Fade, what happened with the Wardens and Orlais, and who drank from the Well of Sorrows - and BioWare would have made a lot of people happier, kept things accessible to new players, and still only had 9 total choices. Better than Dragon Age Keep, but an unpleasant slap in the face nonetheless.

The writing felt clunky and in your face. The constant refrain to build up your team and do any companion quests felt unnecessary, and while purple Rook was hilarious it was hard to get a grip on why they signed on to help Varric in the first place. 

The demon redesigns. Dragon Age has always been a bit iffy with visual consistency, but I shouldn’t need dialogue to tell me something is a Pride demon. I’ve probably invested hundreds of hours into this series; I should be able to tell something is a Pride demon at a glance whatever changes they make.

I hate the visuals for nearly all the returning characters - I don’t mind that Dorian has aged in the last decade, I care that his outfit is ugly. Isabella’s outfit is just anime levels of absurdity and insult, even if the men have it just as bad in her group. And what is even with the Inquisitor’s purple nonsense? Could they not at least have bothered to give them armor for the final battle?

THE UGLY:

The writers forgot their own lore. Tevinter is supposed to be a hotbed of slavery, drastically different from the rest of Thedas, but you’d never guess without a couple passing remarks in conversations with the Shadow Dragons. And then we’re meant to believe the Veneturi - pro-human as they are - would just accept that their gods were just the ancient eleven gods by a different name? Shouldn’t at least a few refuse to follow an elf, no matter how powerful, on racist principle? And that’s not even owning up the can of worms that is all of the Dalish seeming to just accept that their gods are evil, blighted oppressors. (Which should at least cause a few conversations, given how historically oppressed the Dalish have been.) And as much as I liked Emmrich’s storyline, lichs feel like a last minute D&D addition and not a natural part of the franchise.

The writers forgot their roots. Nothing in Dragon Age has ever been black or white. In DA:O, neither the werewolves or the Dalish were wholly in the right - but if you did exactly the right thing, you could get them to work together. Neither were either the Dwarf fractions were angels, and for all Loghain’s machinations you can still debate whether his actions at Ostigar were politically driven or military sound. DA2 goes out of its way to show the Mages and Templars both have good and bad points. DA:I was littered with choices without clear cut answers - what to do with the Wardens or those you judged, which war criminal should rule Orlais, &c. Yet there was none of that was present here. The only choice I agonized over was who to lead the second team in the endgame, and even that retrospectively is a no brainer because Assan can never be allowed to be hurt and so - for me - the right choice will always be Harding. 

(Seriously, we had both people who could have drank from the Well of Sorrows in the game; that should have had some consequences.)

The name. The Veilguard is an incredibly stupid name, more so because it’s never once used by the characters to describe themselves. Simply Veilguard would have been better, but honestly the whole thing is awful. Sticking with Dread Wolf or even going with DA: Rebellion or something nonsensical would have been better.

Is it a bad game? No. It would have been more impressive as a stand alone than the fourth installment in a beloved series, but the bones of something good are there. It felt more like someone's fanfic of DA4 than a proper installment - and, honestly, I've read better fan fiction. In the face of your light by @noverturemusings comes to mind. So does A Herald Named Desire by ushauz.

Don't get me wrong: I liked it. There's a lot to be said for it even if on some level it feels like the developers shook the earlier installments of the series down for their best parts and saw what they could make with it. Once I got used to the combat system, I even started to enjoy it. The skeleton at the end of Emmrich's companion quest felt like a call back to ME2's final boss. Ghilan'nain's blighted dragon felt like a thresher maw. Lucanis' epic entrance echoed Jack's from ME2. And so on. It works, but feels cheap on some level.

ADDITIONAL COMMENTS:

Hand to god, I guessed Varric had really died in the beginning sometime shortly after he started talking about the lyrium dagger being the old red lyrium idol. It seemed like bad writing at the time, but the way he didn't come up with a single nickname for anyone and failed to interact with the others made me wonder. I just thought it was an outlandish theory because if BioWare was going to kill off a fan favorite, they'd make a bigger production of it.

I actually liked the part where Rook was pulled into Solas' prison, but genuinely think there was no way it would have held the risen gods. It requires the prisoner to feel regret, which neither god was capable of feeling.

Honestly, Solas couldn't have told someone the whole story at some point in the last 10 years? Wanting to tear down the Veil to keep the gods from escaping is marginally better than simply wanting to restore the old elven empire.

Hell, the whole first hour of the game would have worked better as the last hour of Trespasser. Left us all on a brilliant cliffhanger for a decade and wrapped up that storyline nicely.

Really, what is with the outfits? Why are so many of them completely ugly, the rest completely impractical, and all of them anime fantasy levels of over the top?

tl;dr? I like this game off the bat better than I did DA:I, but whereas that game grew on me I have a feeling I'll only be finding the cracks beneath the paint in this one for a while. I'll definitely replay (I really want to romance Lucanis next time and might start right after posting this), but I doubt I'll put anywhere near the number of hours into DA:V as I did DA:I, even if it's another 10 years to DA5. 4.5 out of 5 stars.

[garrulousgeologist]

[S] Kells: Return.

I read too much Homestuck and now I have several posts queued.

So initially I put off reading more Homestuck because I care about Dave Strider too much. Seeing him in his room filled me with so many emotions it’s kind of ridiculous. But then when I did start reading I kind of just didn’t stop.

I keep a google doc open each time I sit down to read where I just dump my thoughts as I go and then edit and post them here later, it’s usually a few pages long. Right now I’m editing 25 pages of thoughts. Sooo posts to come, but back to Dave.

I just love this kid.

All parental complications in HS aside, Dave is such a cool kid. I get overwhelmed with the feeling that if he were my kid I would be so, so proud of him. He is so full of anxiety and is fucked up as a result of his environment, aren’t we all, but look at him!

Interest and talent in music, engineering, photography, design, graphic art, katana combat styles, literature, preservation and taxonomy, pop culture, web design, social media literacy, history, cinema, computer science, and the list could go on much longer. He seems genuinely interested in all of this, not just for show, though he plays the irony of everything.

Also, apple juice is one of my comfort foods and has been since I was like 5 years old. I have a huge soft spot for this guy. 

So why did that make me hesitate to read his introduction for a week? For the same reason I never end up finishing teen superhero comics, anime or T.V. shows; I have a hard time watching kids get manipulated and abused. Yes they are usually predictable pieces of media and I know they’ll end up “happy” most of the time, but I can’t help that I take it a little too seriously. The adults in any ‘hero’’s life utterly fail them.

No kid should feel like they have to excel at all of this to merely survive, and yet here Dave is.

Grand snack fuckyeah is what I’m going to say every time I enter a 7/11 from now on. 

Hello??? I had no fucking idea midnight crew was a webcomic on Dave’s Internet. I knew it was on mspaintadventures.com of course, I read it, but I never registered that he would have recognized them. I wonder if he gives any indication of this when interacting with them in person, which may or may not happen later due to circumstances that arise. 

"You push against the MANHOLE COVER, but it seems some unbelievable jackass has parked your GETAWAY VAN on top of it.

A familiar feeling stirs. That feeling is overwhelming, soul-blackening rage.

It's the sort of rage that'll make a man feel totally justified in sporting an unnecessarily elaborate assortment of fancy blades."

Something  I’ll try to keep in mind- Spades Slick has anger management issues. One thing goes un-according to plan and it’s immediate, inconsolable, violent rage. Surely this won’t become relevant in the future.

I miss the interactions between these two. Sibling energy in the best way possible. Some distant memory is telling me my favorite pesterlogs to read back in the day were between Rose and Dave, like specifically seeing the red and lilac chat logs triggers a happy feeling. Excited for more of this. 

Got me straight giggling. 

Something about genuine concern this early on in Dave’s story reads as particularly endearing. That being said if I accidentally killed a crow that caw’d at my bedroom window at 13 I would be deeply troubled. 

Skips back to rose- 

Each kid has immense amounts of blind respect for their respective guardian. John believes his dad to be doing important and responsible things at all times. Dave believes his bro is the most amazing person anyone could ever have as a brother. Anything he does must be either objectively sicknasty, or ironically hilarious. Bro is just doing what he can to make Dave strong, right? Well, yeah, maybe he is, that doesn’t negate the irreparable damage his methods cause, though.

Rose, someone I think might be the most likely to recognize her parent is just as human as she is, has the same perspective. No amount of hyper intellectualizing can change the fact that a kid is a kid. 

There is nothing to psychoanalyze. Your mother clearly has no real affinity for these damnable things. She only collects them to spite you.

If anything, she finds them even more repellent than you do. She's just a committed woman.

She hates the wizard statues and paintings, and her conclusion is that her mother can’t actually like these ridiculous motifs, so she must be placing them strategically around the house to spite her. The passive-aggression as Rose sees it could just as easily be her mom genuinely trying to connect with her daughter(sister,mom) but failing due to alcoholism and an unhealthy work-life balance.

In all cases, the kids assume their guardians' behavior is the way that it is because of their own interests. This is despite each guardian having a particular interest that particularly freaks out their respective kid. And, at the same time, have their interests and aversions because of their guardian’s behavior.

(And later it comes to light that these interests and behaviors are reflected in the alpha kids’ experiences, making the topics each human is savvy to a loop).

Homestuck is many things all at once. This is part of the reason it is so difficult to describe to someone who hasn’t experienced it! (hot take)

One of those things is a coming of age story. 

This is reflected in the human kids idolizing their guardians and then growing to realize they were just people doing their best and made any mistakes that the kids now have to grapple with. A similar situation can be said of the troll kids idolizing their ancestors and then coming to recognize similar things about them as they age.

Both species have a strong sense of separation between adolescence and adulthood, eventually growing to see the lines are extremely muddled. What is that if not a coming of age concept? Who among us (sus) has not suddenly recognized the flaws in our guardians? Don’t answer that I don’t want to go that deep outside the media.

Oh my GOD I forgot about the Lalonde home fridge magnets. I need some. W.

Right after that is the first pesterlog with Jade!! I remember her being way more in-the-know about certain things like the frog ruins, etc, but I completely forgot she just kind of like knows things.

Hmm alright

Back to John chasing the ink monster. In hindsight I think I recognized that Dave messaged John a little differently than everyone else, but reading it now he’s very clearly got a crush. The in-his-DMs version of scrambling. The guy is just throwing all he has out and living off the vapors of combusting hope that something sticks.

. . .

I’m using this as an insult in my daily life now. That one stuck, Dave.

H

H-Hom..

Anyway. Put the bunny back in the box.

I just realized echeladder is a stupid fucking word. Weird fight to pick out of everything I could criticize at this point in HS, but echelon means ladder. Why..Why make it Echeladder. For to make Kells angy?

EVERYONE SHUT UP!

NANASPRITE!!! <3

Jfc The Medium. There is so much I need to re-learn. 

Me too, John. Sorry to have so many pesterlogs in this post! I don’t mean to cheapen my own reflections. I just don’t see the point in rephrasing this copied-homework style, especially when I don’t fully understand what’s being said. It’s really nice that someone is finally asking direct questions and getting direct answers though! The funny thing is in high school I thought John was lame for being so blunt and basic with his communication with his sprite, and now I’m like oh thank fuck there’s at least one logical and non-convoluted conversation between a Sburb mechanic and a player character. 

I’ll leave out the [S] GO ON. text but needless to say: Skaia.

I don’t think I ever processed the game of chess being forces of light vs. dark, but I don’t think that changes my perspective at all. That’s kind of a basic concept and in this case seems to be literal anyway. 

[S] Dave: Retrieve dead bird.

The red hot swirling sun over Texas zooming out to be Dave’s eye in some not-so-subtle foreshadowing never gets old for me. Love the imagery there.

Rose is updating her walkthrough again, so far the only text I’m just unwilling to give a thorough read-through. I skim it, okay? 

I also JUST put together that the imps’ jester hats, the jester themed chess pieces of Skaia and other imagery is part of a shitty paradoxical loop that continuously forces clownery upon every aspect of this fucking comic. I guess previously I assumed that’s just how they were as opposed to a blank canvas imp with jester imagery added to it.

"So don't change the dizzle, turn it up a little

I got a living room full of fine dime brizzles

Waiting on the Pizzle, the Dizzle and the Shizzle

G's to the bizzack, now ladies here we gizzo

When the pimp's in the crib ma

Drop it like it's hot

Drop it like it's hot

Drop it like it's hot..."

-English Romantic poet, John Keats

I’m not even going to correct this one you should know who said that. 

Tl;dr

Dave and Rose are Kell’s favorite kids, it’s a hard decision but it’s Kells’ truth. Jade deserves more credit!! Nanasprite is helpful but Kells has dumb babby disease and continues to do research. Clown culture in Homestuck is weird. It’s weird that there’s a Homestuck clown culture.

[tailorvizsla]

You didn't think I wouldn't ask for some Boba Fett though now did you? (Of course not, he is the new shiny for me iuwhei) ✨ HC Of my Choice... What about having your first kiss with Boba and he doesn't #know it is your first one till part-way through or after? Am I projecting? Yes, yes I am.

Title: HC – Boba Fett and First Kiss Pairing: Gender neutral Reader x Boba Fett Word Count: ~1700 Rating: PG-13 Warnings: Boba Fett is a grumpy bastard, but you hold your own against him. Boba also gets injured, but there aren’t any graphic descriptions of the injuries. Author’s Notes: Okay, my Angle, I’ve been thinking about this one for as long as it’s been sitting in my inbox. I’m not familiar with Boba Fett’s character, so I wanted to make sure this was good for you. So, without further ado, here we go with the Big Green Grumpy Jerk who has somehow inexplicably charmed his way into my heart with a few gruff comments.

Tagging @princessbatears because chaos? :>

📚 My Master List 📚

Boba Fett isn’t a man of many words. It’s not that he’s shy or anything – he just doesn’t like talking to people beyond what is necessary. He has worked alone his entire life, so the sound of others’ voices just sort of grates on him. He especially does not like being crowded by people.

So, one day, while doing his thing, he ends up injured. It’s not even due to combat. His jetpack just…sputters out. His beskar’gam turns what should have been a fatal fall into a very painful one. He knows he has broken a lot of bones, but Boba refuses to die like this. He crawls his way back to his bike, calls for medical aid, and prays to the Maker that someone in town will come help him.

You are the only person who does come to help him. Most other people are too afraid of the Imperial remnants to work with a Mandalorian. Others are too afraid of Mandalorians to work with a Mandalorian. You? You are not afraid of much. He is not sure if you are brave or stupid. After splinting the worst of the damage, you get him onto the bike and get him back into town. It is at this point that Boba finds himself leaning toward thinking you are stupidly caring and trusting.

You inject him with bacta – the good kind that makes him giggly, sleepy, and numb – and get to work. When he wakes up, he’s wrapped in an annoying number of casts and splints, but at least he’s still alive. However, you then give him the bad news: the fall has damaged many of the delicate nerves in his back. If he fails to undergo physical therapy, there is a real chance he may never walk again. He’s no medical expert, but when he looks at the scans you took, he knows you aren’t lying.

So, Boba resigns himself to having to deal with you on a regular basis. The first physical therapy exercises are simple, yet they exhaust him to the point where he just passes out. As the days go by, he starts putting up the walls to keep you out. (Spoiler alert: you manage to find your way through the cracks in the wall, annoying him with barely any effort on your behalf.)

Now, under ideal circumstances, this shitshow would end with Boba Fett getting back on his feet, paying you handsomely for the amount of time you have spent getting him put together, and going back to bounty hunting, never to think of you again. But of course, the universe throws an even bigger wrench into his carefully thought-out plans. Someone finds out that you’re taking care of him and a whole bunch of angry townspeople converge on your little clinic. He grabs you and the two of you run. The last thing you see is your clinic going up in flames. (Boba can’t believe the shortsightedness of these people – they’ve driven off their only competent medical professional. What are they going to do next? Kill their only competent mechanic? Di’kute, every last one of them.)

And so, the two of you go off on a merry adventure, annoying the absolute shit out of each other on a regular basis. Boba especially is concerned at how easily you have managed to find every single weak point in his defenses – physical, mental, and emotional. You are a fair shot with your blaster, so when he got fresh with you that one time, telling you that your ass looked downright edible in the trousers you had borrowed from him, you drew your blaster and fired a shot off at his feet. He laughed so hard his bucket nearly fell off. (You are not sure if you are disturbed that he finds being shot at amusing. He does scold you a bit, but you do notice that he does not talk about your ass anymore.)

With your knife? You’re lethal, and he learns that the hard way when he fails to announce his presence behind you. One moment Boba is reaching to touch your shoulder and the next moment, he’s got your elbow in his face and your penknife embedded in his flak vest. Fortunately, the blade’s too short to cause serious damage, but he does not let you forget that you kriffing stabbed him when he was only trying to ask you what you wanted for dinner.

Even though Boba would rather cover himself in tiingilar sauce and crawl back into the sarlacc pit headfirst than ever admit it, the two of you make a damn good team. He goes off to hunt bounties, you stay in town to provide your medical services for a fair fee. Sometimes, when your services are not needed, you’ll hang back at the ship and do some basic accounting to keep him within his budget.

Boba grumbles when you ask to accompany him on a hunt, but he figures you really do need to learn how to defend yourself if anything should happen to him. When the two of you were surrounded by goons, you naturally fell into place behind him, your back to his, covering his shebs while he provides the heavy firepower. When the numbers are thinned to something more manageable, he sets you loose on them, letting you practice your knife skills. And by the Maker, he is impressed with how much you have improved since the last time you stabbed him.

Between hunts, you get his shebs back into fighting shape. Hell, he thinks he’s even better than he was before. The exercises you insist on forcing on him have made him more flexible than he was before, and his bones no longer creak first thing in the morning. One particularly hot, muggy day, you try to make him drink that vile green vegetable concoction you call a smoothie. Smooth his shebs, there are chunks in that liquefied animal feed. Sometimes he wonders if you’re trying to kill him on purpose.

(You don’t know this, but Boba has already arranged for everything in his possession, ships and banking accounts included, to be transferred to you in the event of his death. Hell, he has even started negotiating with a friendly Tribe to make sure you have a home to go to and your pick of their warriors for marriage, should you be interested. Boba justifies it this way: the last time his jetpack mutinied, he ended up several hundred thousand credits in debt to you by his estimation. By ensuring you have a safe place to go, and a family ready to welcome you, he can offset the immeasurable debt he owes you. It hurts to think of this, but Boba genuinely cannot bear the thought of you being alone in this cruel galaxy, the same way he had been when he was a child. So, if he ever does piss you off to the point where you off him in his sleep, you’ll be fine.)

You keep pushing and pushing, insisting that he needs B-vitamins or some other bantha-shit he’s sure you’ve made up for the sole purpose of annoying him. When you start going on about macronutrients and essential vitamins, Boba loses it. He tosses his cutlery down and goes stomping off toward the cockpit. You follow him, blathering on and on about the last blood panel you had pulled – HDLs, LDLs, and a whole slew of acronyms later, he loses it. Rather than snap at you, he shuts you up the only way his poor sleep-deprived brain can come up with.

Boba pushes you up against the wall, gently to avoid hurting you. You don’t seem at all phased. In fact, you start waving the paper at him as you try to draw his attention to his sodium levels. Boba leans in and presses his lips to yours. You finally stop talking, your entire body going stiff in response. He takes a moment to nibble along your lower lip before parting your lips with his, tongue probing a bit deeper in, and you still aren’t responding. Boba draws back and stares down at you. You’re wide-eyed and clearly in shock.

He leans in again. This time you respond clumsily, your hands clutching at that stupid piece of paper. He gently wrestles it out of your grasp and crumples it up. Then he tosses it over his shoulder, not caring where it lands. He cups the back of your head and deepens the kiss. Still, you’re not responding the way he wants, so he draws back.

“What, never been kissed before?” he asks.

Before he can say anything else, he realizes that that was your first kiss. While Boba has never wanted to be anyone’s First Anything, he realizes that he wants to make an exception for you. There’s no one in this entire galaxy who can annoy the shit out of him in one breath and then worry about his health in the next. You are his little baar’ur. After you have wormed your way under his plating and so selfishly made yourself a fixture in his life without his permission? Oh, no, no, you are not going anywhere.

He cuts off your stammering with another kiss. He takes this one slow, moving your hands to where he wants you to touch him – one at his nape, the other at the small of his back, right over that spot that makes his knees weak.

This time, you respond. Slowly, hesitantly, but as you grow more confident, your hands begin to stray. You worm your fingers up the back of his shirt and dig your nails into the sensitive skin there, making him gasp in pleasure. Then you dig your fingers into his long hair and tug lightly, earning a low growl from him. You freeze and stare up at him with wide eyes until he leans back in.

Fortunately, your big smart science brain learns his likes and dislikes very quickly. When he finally pulls away, he finds that he really likes what he sees – your shirt’s rumpled, your hair is sticking up, and your lips are red and swollen from his kisses. Then and there, he makes a vow to make sure you always look like a mess.

(Spoiler alert: quite a few more of your firsts happen right here in the cockpit.)

[themerriweathermage]

WIP Whenever

Oooh, thanks for tagging me @sleepswithvillains

No pressure tags: @my-marvel-musings @grunid @guardianofrivendell @elvish-sky​

My latest WIP is actually a response to two requests I got about Glorfindel... which I’m turning into a three/four part series called Nost Mallos (House of the Golden Flower).

There is a lot of skipping around in this one for the sake of time and brevity, but long story short, Reader is a Fem! Elf married to Glorfindel and is also a healer. When war comes, she does not shy away from the call to serve... (non-graphic violence ahead)

It was not in the nature of war to care for those hurt and downtrodden, those weary in mind and in spirit, those whose bodies were torn by battle and bloodied by the sword, but where war was, you and your house of healers remained. Your people had learned to heal through fire and flame and they would not shy now even when faced with the insurmountable. But the cries of the fallen would be forever burned into your minds. A marchwarden captain, nearly hewn in half, burned in fever in the keep of Helm’s Deep. You had been separated from Glorfindel as you had marched with the Galadhrim army with a small troop of healers, certainly not enough to combat the force that had been sent to decimate the small fortress. If you hadn’t caught the marchwarden in the field, he wouldn’t be alive. And truth be told, you weren’t sure that he would last the night, but you persevered to save his life anyways.

His arm would take rehabilitation, that is, if he ever wanted to wield a sword again, but it was the wound on his back that pressed at the edges of your wearied mind, concerning. Mostly you tried to avoid using your fae to heal. It would do no good to take his wound on your shoulders, to trade your life for his own, particularly when he was injured as so. You rose to your feet, letting another healer take your place to bring his fevers down before you exhausted yourself, or worse, made a rash decision.

[tonyhightowerv1]

The NHL, Boxing, & Ignoring The Right Thing To Do

Some days I wake up & pay attention to the news a bit, just to see what's happening.

The NHL Draft was last night, and I shouldn't have bothered with it, because I'm still angry at my Leafs for shitting the bed, again, in the playoffs (it's been 17 years since we last won a playoff round, and they've not won the Cup in my lifetime), but apparently the Montreal Canadiens, the most storied team in the sport, a team currently managed by Marc Bergevin, a guy who 10 years ago, when he ran player personnel for the Chicago Blackhawks, was somehow (it isn't clear) involved in hiring and/or protecting a video coach who sexually assaulted a bunch of teenaged players, the facts about which are only coming out now, and which look pretty damning for everyone involved, Marc Bergevin is now the General Manager of the Canadiens, and in the first round, they picked a guy who's been found guilty of sexual assault.

He apparently circulated pictures of a girl without her consent or knowledge while playing minor hockey in Sweden, and was found guilty under Sweden's assault laws. Now, he's expressed remorse, sure; he specifically asked the NHL to not draft him this year, so he could spend time and focus on improving himself and atoning for this in some way. And he's not some ultra hotshot phenom kid that people couldn't keep their hands off.

He's a guy, and even if you just think he made some kind of youthful mistake -- that would be a very bad take, which says a lot about you, not much of it good -- there's no need to reward him with getting picked, especially when he specifically asked not to.

But Bergevin, with the Blackhawks scandal hanging over him, chose this guy anyway. In the first round.

Not only that, the Canadiens had a statement about him pre-loaded & ready to go. Shareable graphic and everything.

https://twitter.com/CanadiensMTL/status/1418780212469411841

But no, instead, it's about this guy. Not even the girl he victimized. Him.

He tried to warn everyone off drafting him, which is to his credit, I guess. But Bergevin saw this kid, and decided, we need him in our organization. As is.

How good is he? Not that it matters in the slightest, but... he's a late 1st round defenseman. If he continues to develop, he'd basically make the show in 5 years or so. No one's projecting him to be an all-star or anything. There was no urgency; he was never going to make the cover of a Wheaties box or carry the flag at the Olympics. Even without the sexual assault conviction.

Marc Bergevin is a Hockey Guy, to the bitter end. But he's got a history -- and, apparently, a present -- of ignoring sexual abuse. There's no place in the sport, or in polite society, for that mindset. Certainly not now.

* * *

So, all this made me think about boxing.

For most of the 20th century, boxing was the biggest sport in the world. Fights filled arenas and stadiums around the world. The Heavyweight Champion was treated like a Head Of State; they'd dine with royalty, speak at major world events, their fights would be recorded and shown in theaters (and run for months), and then when television appeared, fights would be shown in prime time, and draw ratings better than any other sport.

In the early 1970s, Muhammad Ali was known, famously, as the most famous human being alive. (And Neil Armstrong and Chairman Mao were, like, right there.)

But boxing was deeply corrupt, and many of its stars were more than merely flawed, and every once in a while, someone would die in the ring, and so they stopped showing the fights in prime time, and the champions didn't really add much to the global conversation, and the promoters were ignoring a lot of bad things their star fighters were doing, because they were more focused on getting their cut of the gate receipts than they were in maintaining a product that kept new fans coming through the turnstiles.

And sometime in the mid-1980s, boxing's popularity started to wane. After Ali & George Foreman retired, there was a bit of a charisma vacuum at the top of the sport (I mean, Holmes & Holyfield seem like relatively decent guys, but the Crown Prince of Monaco isn't inviting them to a state dinner anytime soon); the welterweights & middleweights (Hagler, Hearns, Leonard, Duran) were compelling in the ring, but aside from Sugar Ray Leonard, none of them were particularly interested in being terribly showy.

And then Mike Tyson showed up at the end of the decade, and everyone was excited again, until he raped someone & went to prison for it, and got a face tattoo, and the slow decline of the sport became clear to everyone, and that was pretty much it for boxing as a major global sporting concern.

Sure, it still exists, but it's nowhere near what it was. If you want to watch boxing somewhere, you need to find a stream from somewhere on the other side of the world. Fans of hand-to-hand combat sports have gravitated to UFC & MMA, sports that 40 years ago literally no one outside of Brazil or Thailand had ever heard of; fans of the spectacle of fighting, the weigh-ins & pre-fight braggadocio, the As The Buckle Turns, well, they'll always have WWE & the other Steroid Soaps.

Boxing is irrelevant now. They took the biggest sport in the world, and through neglect and ignoring the serious problems at its core, they just... pissed it away.

I'm not usually the kind of person to bemoan moral depravity. (I actually like GG Allin's music. I think it's kinda funny.) But sports are entertainment that uses actual people instead of actors. Like entertainment, you want a compelling story, or at least some kind of ethos, or a thought-shape, that keeps people interested and wanting to come back. You can be heroic, or villainous, but you don't want people to see your product and think, eww, yeah, no.

With actors or songwriters (or pro wrestlers), you can build a storyline out, write a script, point the lights in a certain direction. Each game lasts this long, it builds to a crescendo in this way, when our team scores, we shoot off this cannon, when Mariano Rivera enters from the bullpen we play Metallica; the crowd expects those beats, and they're all part of the drama build. But the players are actual people, and there is no script, so you want to start with a cast that people will want to cheer for (or against) without feeling awful.

If you deny people that basic pleasure for long enough, they'll start looking elsewhere.

I've been a serious hockey fan my whole life. It's been my favorite sport since I was old enough to have an opinion. I've gone in & out on baseball, and over the years, the NFL has lost me to their CTE issues & their tone-deaf billionaire owners treating their players like chattel. But hockey, despite having some of those issues, and my Toronto Maple Leafs, as historically disappointing as they have been, have stuck with me. And I with them.

But the way the Blackhawks have dealt with these abuse allegations, and Montreal choosing this convicted assaulter with their first choice (and there've been a couple of other events; last year, Arizona chose a guy who repeatedly & publicly harassed a disabled person of color, and who has never apologized; they later rescinded their pick), I'm starting to wonder if hockey, a sport that doesn't have the mass momentum of boxing or football in their heydays, has already seen its zenith.

And that thought just makes me so very sad.

[skvaderarts]

Hiraeth Chapter 17: Regulation

Masterlist can be found Here!

Chapter Seventeen: Regulation

Note: Sorry the upload was a little late today. I was out of town at Microcenter trying to get a GODDAMN GRAPHICS CARD!! Ahem… sorry about that. I think you might all like where this story is going to go from here. Oh boy, do I have some ideas… 

(-~-)

In truth, no one present was entirely sure what to make of the scene that they had just happened upon. While they had indeed just witnessed it, there was no easy way to actually explain it. The gigantic demonic minotaur had collapsed and was already beginning the process of becoming ash, something that they welcomed, especially considering the fact that none of them had been available to actually attempt to assist with stopping the creature’s rampage. But that was the very root of the issue.

How on earth had this intrepid stranger managed to actually do battle against such a large for on his own?

While the concept of another hunter being able to take on something beyond the classification of a lesser demon was not at all unfamiliar to them, this was something else entirely. At first glance, the quiet stranger that they had allowed to tag along on their trip with them didn't seem at all capable of doing what he had just done. If nothing else, they had assumed that he possessed some basic combat abilities. Perhaps enough to protect himself. But this… to be able to harness and wield that kind of strength… 

"This is curious. To my knowledge, the Ludwig Family doesn’t have any devil hunters among their ranks. And they never have." Vergil said as he stepped forward, an intrigued look on his face. While it was true that the Ludwig family were practitioners of a variety of combat types and had been for the entirety of their existence, he had never seen one use the type of power that the redhead had just utilized, and never to the degree that he could use it. Clearly, he was proficient at a level that exceeded that of the average user, and that was something that Vergil found both fascinating given his initial impressions of the young stranger, and alarming. Normally he was better at gauging the power level of his opponents. Sirrus had flown way below his radar.

“You’re not mistaken. They do not.” Sirrus said calmly, sheathing his gleaming blade once again. While it was unclear precisely where he’d actually drawn it from, what was clear was that it had come from within his coat, and he had just returned it to its rightful resting place. But how he had managed to walk around with a blade that easily equaled the length of Yamato on him without alerting anyone to its presence was beyond any of them. Did he have access to a pocket dimension of some sort? Was their lack of interest in his capabilities what had kept them from simply not noticing it? Because if so, they needed to keep their guard up a bit better than that in the future.

An almost questioning look passed across Dante’s face as he seemed to take in the response of their new companion. Suddenly he realized that he truly didn’t know very much about him, and he found it more than a little bit disconcerting that he hadn’t really put much thought into the possibility of him posing a threat to him. The last intrepid stranger who had happened upon him in such a manner had been V, and before a few other names came to mind. Trish, Lady, Lucia… hell, even Beryl fell into that category easily enough! How many times was he going to have to learn this lesson?

“If that’s the case, then how do you know how to do… whatever that just was? And where’d ya learn to do it in the first place?” Dante interjected, noting Vergil’s silence. One could only assume that he was considering something, but despite the fact that silence was a trademark of his stoic older twin’s personality, that didn’t mean that he had ever been particularly comfortable with it. Left alone to his own devices, Vergil’s mind was just as deadly a weapon as his blade or any other ability or armament that he possessed. And if he wasn’t plotting the demise of someone or something, he was probably lingering in a sort of stasis, fixating on some lingering regret or other toxic thought. It was best to not let him idle for very long, lest he come to regret it

The man in black adjusted his coat, sliding his arm back into the long sleeve that it had once occupied. It was best that he do so, lest he accidentally allow his favorite garment to drag along the ash-covered ground. It was so incredibly difficult to get demonic ash out of this kind of material. “A reasonable enough question. And one I shall answer. But can we do it while we head back to your friend’s house? The air here had become rather unpleasant, and I’d like to stop having to breathe it. Methane and sulfur and all that. It’s bad for our lungs.”

Nero considered scoffing at the statement for a brief moment before thinking better of himself. It was best not to antagonize him, at least not until he knew how to do it without ending up cut in half or impaled like that demon. A quick glance over at V was all that it took to see that he was not alone in this assessment. The taller summoner seemed to be deep in thought, not that he wasn’t in most instances. But something about the look on his face had changed in some subtle way, and he was sure now that he was not the only one with doubts and concerns. In truth, Sirrus was still smack dab in the middle of his “suspect as hell” list, but now he was starting to wonder if he was asking the wrong questions. That didn’t mean, however, that he couldn’t ask a simple question. After all, what harm could that do?

“Okay, that makes sense. But then who the hell are you?” Nero said calmly but with an obvious tinge of unamused irritation on his face. He wasn’t sure he knew what to think of him at this point, and while he didn’t exactly perceive him as a threat, the fact that he hadn’t informed them that he possessed that kind of power made him slightly uneasy. Or maybe in some small ways he had. After all, Sirrus’s calm demeanor in most threatening situations should have tipped him off as a possible indicator of this kind of power, but Nero had no way of knowing for sure. But he wouldn’t put it past him to play those sorts of games with them. He just seemed odd in that kind of way.

Sirrus shrugged nebulously at the comment as it if didn’t affect him much or he had been asked the question before enough times to have expected it. “Again, I have next to nothing against telling you, but not here. I simply don’t desire to linger here any longer than I must. It isn’t ideal.”

Life rarely was, as far as Vergil was concerned, but he was willing to accommodate his request if for no other reason than the fact that after such a long time in the underworld, the scent of sulfurous gas and the presence of ash in the air around them hit far to close to home. He had enjoyed a reprieve from such foul substances for a few weeks now, and he was not at all eager to reintroduce himself to them. Leaving would, in fact, be best for more than one reason.

Very well, then. That is agreeable.” The eldest Son of Sparda said as he turned in the direction that they had come from, somewhat unsurprised to find that he could still see the road from here. The fountain was going to make a wonderful mess of that plaza soon enough, but at least the piece of metal from the demon bull’s fallen weapon had dissipated. The less evidence of their presence here, the better. “But let’s make haste. Something is entirely off about this situation, and I do not desire to be at the mercy of its wrath any longer than I must be.”

“I couldn’t agree more,” Sirrus said simply before following the white-haired half-devil in the blue coat. Thankfully they didn’t seem eager to put up much of a fuss about it, and there was a simple explanation for what he had done. Well, at least it was simple for him. Nothing was simple when it came to his life, and this was no exception, but at least it was one of the few questions that he could easily answer that wouldn’t have catastrophic consequences outside of his control.

(-~-)

The walk back had been uneventful and quick, so nothing of any particular note had even a scrap of hope of occurring. Before any of them could even begin to think of where to start or fire up the part of their brain that existed to do critical thinking, they had arrived back at Lucia and Matier’s shared home, and more importantly, at the shared realization that it would be easier to just have this conversation at the house instead of on the way to it.

“Alright then, we’re here. So what’s the deal, then? How are you able to do all that?” Dante asked as he reclined on the couch. Lucia’s place had some very comfortable furniture, and he was more than happy to capitalize on the opportunity to enjoy it. It was nice to sit back and relax a little bit sometimes. “I’m not that good with magic or whatever you’d call that, but I’ve never seen a human use that kind of power.”

Lucia stepped forward as she closed the front door to the living room, allowing the door to close before she spoke. The fewer interruptions, the better. At least as far as she was concerned. And while she knew next to nothing about this stranger, what was going on, it what was even going on in the first place, she did know what he was curious as to what he could do. And if he was willing to explain himself to them, then it was probably best to take him up on his offer and allow him to actually tell them what was going on.

“Perhaps we’re just asking the wrong questions.” She said politely as she entered the living room and found a place to sit. There were a lot more people here than she was used to, but she didn’t particularly mind given the circumstances. In fact, she was almost glad that everyone seemed to be so comfortable in her small home. It was a welcome change of pace. “Maybe it isn’t about how he did that, but more about what he did and what he’d have to be in order to do it.

A soft sigh escaped Sirrus’s lips as he glanced over at her. Yes, she was as smart as she was pretty, wasn’t she? That was good to know. For all he knew, her intellect and perceptive nature might come in handy in the near future. “Your quite right. I’m a member of the Ludwig family through marriage. Or more accurately, through a divorce. Two of them each, actually.” His facial expression changed slightly for a moment as though he were recalling an unpleasant memory. After a moment, he continued despite the fact that something about his demeanor had changed. He was so reserved in the first place that it was hard to pinpoint what had changed, but something had indeed done so. “But regardless, I do not possess the limitations that many of them do in regards to their power as a result. I do apologize for not volunteering to tell you what was going on sooner, but I think you can understand the desire to not expose yourself to those that you do not know, especially you’ve not yet had a reason. I think that everyone like us desires anonymity, privacy, and normality to some degree. I hope you can respect that.”

Dante exhaled and leaned back slightly. Yes. Yes, he did understand that feeling. It was all too familiar to him. While a part of him did in fact still yearn for the possibility of that being true, there was a part of him that knew it wasn’t something he could easily obtain, if at all. More than likely it was a false hope, but he still hoped nonetheless. “Yea, I get that. Makes sense. Keep going?”

Sirrus nodded. “My biological parents are much like yours in that they are two completely different beings that hale from wildly different backgrounds, but I do not feel at all comfortable explaining who either of them is, or saying anything beyond that.” He said, gesturing towards Dante and Vergil respectively, his casual demeanor hiding his underlying anxiety much better than either of them realized. “What I can say is that my power is a direct result of their union. It isn’t a learned skill like it is for the Ludwigs. They are born with an aptitude for learning magic. I was born with inborn gifts. Mine simply differs from yours due to parentage and the fact that I am not what you are, but the principle is still the same. I hope that makes some measure of sense.”

“I understand that in a way,” Lucia interjected, shrugging softly in discomfort as she remembered her origins. It was a difficult subject, and one that she didn’t touch on lightly. After all, she’d spent a while fulling coming to grips with the truth herself. “I can understand why you didn’t say anything. But I don’t think anyone here would have had a problem with that knowledge. I mean, at least I think not.”

Dante shrugged and Vergil made some sort of motion akin to a shrug, but didn’t say anything. Nero and Nico both shared a glance over at V before doing much the same, both of them slightly unnerved by his persistent silence. Was he being affected by the knife again? “Yea, none of us can really say anything. Nico is basically the only totally normal person here. That is, if you can call whatever the hell she has going on “normal.” But she’d human either way.”

Nico punched Nero playfully in the shoulder. “Yea, what this stupid jerk is sayin is pretty much spot on, aside from me being that weird. He’s done some pretty weird crap, so I guess he can say that about himself. But me, I’m just a regular old human who’s along for the ride. If you need any extra weirdness, you’d have to talk to basically anyone else in this room. Well, except Lucia. She seems pretty cool.”

Lucia held her hand up to her face to stifle the slight giggle that she felt coming on. Nico was quite the character from what she could tell. And that was just fine by her. But she still needed to find out what everyone was doing on the island in the first place. It wasn’t that she wasn’t glad to see Dante. What was most certainly not the case now, and she highly doubted that it ever would be. But if she had to guess, she’d be willing to say that he was here for a reason. 

Sirrus seemed amused by the young gunsmith’s response. “Your all quite right. I’m simply unaccustomed to being forthcoming about these sorts of things, especially towards people I’ve only recently met. But your kindness is most apreciated. Thank you.”

The lovely redhead nodded and turned towards the rest of the group, making herself comfortable. “Okay. Well, that’s a relief. Now that we’ve had that conversation and everything is sorted out a little better than it was before, I have to ask… what brings you to the island again so soon, Dante?! Last time you were gone quite a while longer than you were this time! I know that the circumstances are vastly different, but my point still stands. Did you just so happen to be in the area and thought you’d stop by to see me again?”

Dante laughed lightly, craning his head to one side. He had indeed missed Lucia in the time that they’d been away, there was no denying it. But unfortunately, there were not there as a lovely leisure retreat. They had work to do. He shook his head to indicate that he was saying no to her question, earning him a bashful but unabashed look from his longtime friend. Truly he washed that he was wrong, but he wasn’t.”

“Not as such. We’ve come to return something to you. At least from what I understand. Venturing all the way out here was Dante’s idea.” Vergil said flatly, not at all in the mood for this kind of friendly banter. When he’d returned after his prolonged absence, he’d nearly been shot down a flight of stairs by Magnolia. And that was to say nothing of his arrival back from the underworld. Dante had received quite the welcome wagon in comparison.

She gave him a curious look as he pointed to the box behind her. As the realization of what it contained kicked in, she gasped quietly, covering her face with her mouth. “That box… what’s supposed to be inside of it is… that’s not supposed to… please tell me it’s empty? Please.” A shake of the head from Nero was all that it took for an almost mournful look to cross her face. “Oh, please forgive me for the trouble! I hate to say it, but I had no idea that it was gone. Some Guardian I am… Either way, thank you for returning it safely back to where it belongs. Do you recall where you found it by any chance? I’d like to investigate. Something this sacred just vanishing without a trace and without my mother or myself noticing is worrisome, to say the least.”

V finally decided to speak up, snapping out of the state of quiet contemplation that he’d previously found himself in. “Oh, I remember precisely where they found that knife. If you look hard enough, I’m almost sure you’d still be able to find my blood on it. But at least it’s been returned to where it belongs now.”

Lucia gave him a sympathetic look as if she understood what he was alluding to. “I’m so sorry to hear that you were hurt. I am glad to see that you are alright. I would be remiss to hear that my inaction lead to your untimely death, much as I am to hear that you were harmed in the first place.” She looked back at the blade again for a moment just in time to miss V turning away to look out of the window, mildly embarrassed by her kind words. He wasn’t accustomed to such kindness. Lucia was truly wonderful. “I will return it to its rightful resting place as soon as I have a chance. And this time, I’ll make sure that all of the traps are turned back on. Not just some of them. But I get the feeling that that isn’t all you need help with?”

Dante shook his head. “No, sorry to say that it isn’t. You up to going on another little trip with me to help out again?

She gave the youngest of Sparda’s two sons a polite smile. “Yes, absolutely.”

(-~-)

I’m suddenly very sleepy, and it’s only 10:58 pm. Maybe it’s just the stormy weather. The entire plate of alfredo I’m about to eat isn’t going to do me any favors, either. Oh well, see you next week! And thanks for checking this chapter out! Now off to the comment section!

[ice-cream-nekogirl]

Dusk Till Dawn (Shinsou Hitoshi X Reader) PART 10

https://ice-cream-kitsunegirl.tumblr.com/post/186925178519/dusk-till-dawn-shinsou-hitoshi-x-reader-part-9

Taglist: @fandom-hoe101 @greenliquidcacti @shadow-wolf2 @rxbyrxn @golden-eter @queenofmonstersanddemons @depressed-deku @sleepychai 

Summary: You and Shinsou are returned to the safety of your homes, but after catching up with your friends you can’t help but notice how distant Shinsou is. 

I’m mad at myself... this was SUPPOSED to be the last chapter but alas... it grew too long but it’s still important! And this just means that the final chapter will be posted soon!

Warnings: Some graphic violence, gore and sexual situations.

Featuring: Our Purple Boi!!

Chapter 10: Reunion

Everything that was once normal to you now felt so different. Which you found extremely weird because the truth was you weren’t gone for as long as you believed, and yet being trapped and kidnapped felt like years instead of days.

The only thing that kept you hanging in there all those days was having Shinsou there for you. You knew it was a selfish thought, but you were happy that he was there with you. To be frank, you weren’t so sure if you would have even been able to survive if not for him.

You bashed someone’s head in sure, but you also sprained your ankle, ruined one of your hands and didn’t have a quirk that could help in combat. Still, you managed to survive and help Shinsou when he was incapacitated for a little bit, so you weren’t completely useless.

You survived it all.

Shinsou survived it all.

That was all you could think about even as your enthusiastic and frantic classmates had initially crowded you before they appropriately gave you your space, and now you were just sitting at a table with a bento box that you had been given by a very concerned Izuku. He was accompanying you and the two of you were joined by Uraraka, Iida, Aoyama, Tsuyu and Todoroki. Yaoyorozu approaching you gently with a cup of tea to hopefully soothe your nerves as you anxiously smiled after finishing all of the food rather quickly.

“I’m starving…” You chuckled a little bit to your friends as they smiled and chuckled a little bit. Although you and Shinsou were both given meals to fill up on, a week of not eating properly had built up an appetite.

“You must be! It’s been a week since you’ve probably had any proper nourishment, so you and Shinsou need to eat and get your fluids up.” Iida sounded so much like a dad it made you smile, “Yes I know… and trust me, I’m going to fill up on all of that and then some Iida I promise…” Trying not to giggle you looked over at the taciturn Shinsou, even when Iida mentioned his name the boy didn’t budge. 

You wondered why he hadn’t joined you though, as he had chosen to be by himself as he leaned against the kitchen wall, his eyes downcast as he listened to you talk amongst your friends. Midoriya had been asked him to join you and the others but he politely refused and stood by himself and watched Yaoyorozu bring you a cup of hot tea she made just for you. 

“Here you go (Y/N)-chan, this should soothe your nerves… I know you must still be a little bit agitated. I’m just sorry we all huddled up to you so quickly without considering your feelings.” The tall girl apologized as you gratefully accepted the warm cup of tea from her as she warned you of how hot it was.

“Thank you Momo… it’s okay though really. Yes I was a bit alarmed but… it’s cuz… I got used to seeing just Hitoshi’s face… I missed you guys…” You smiled at the sweet girl but she still looked a bit perturbed as she saw your bandaged hand, and the crutches you had needed.

“Your hand…”

You could see how nervous she looked though and you shook your head as you tried to calm her down. “Oh… believe it or not but this is actually because I held onto an icy rail from a faulty ski-lift… Hitoshi and I had to jump off it but I held onto it too tightly and when I came off… apparently so did most of my hand skin…” Almost grinning you were nodding at the memory which was only 3 days ago tops, but Aoyama and Uraraka looked like they wanted to faint at the thought.

“Y-Your skin…?” Aoyama looked particularly woozy at such a vivid image as you nodded, “Hee-hee… yeah… ooh sorry buddy… bit too graphic I suppose…”

“Did they give you medicine for that?!” Uraraka was more scared for you because of how absolutely painful that sounded.

“Oh yes, don’t worry Uraraka they did… they were pretty quick about that the minute they saw it…” You said softly as you took a sip of the tea in your hands, not seeing the thoughtful look Todoroki was giving you.

“You don’t have frost-bite do you…?” Yaoyorozu quickly asked though but you shook your head, “No… it’s actually just frost-nip. I probably-.” You were going to explain more about your injuries but you and your friend’s kind of jumped the second you heard a door suddenly slam open.

“WHERE IS SHE?!”

That voice only belonged to one person, and you actually smiled a little bit despite the look of terror on Izuku’s face. He already knew that Bakugou was probably pissed that he wasn’t there when you had arrived back to UA and that everyone else knew that you were alive and well earlier than he did. And you yourself couldn’t help but feel a little bit nervous, unsure what to suspect as you saw the pissed off blonde and his scared red-head friend marching in.

“What the fuck Deku?! (Y/N) shows up after all of the shit that she’s been through and you don’t even bother to tell me you bastard?!” He was definitely pissed about that, and it scared both you and Izuku. He was going to tell Bakugou of course, but after the hug you both shared he couldn’t help but look after you and make sure that you were okay by giving you food and a safe space for you to feel comfortable after the things you went through. He simply forgot…

“K-Kacchan?! I-I’m so sorry b-but…” He tried to explain himself but you held his hand to try and defend him. “It’s not his fault Katsuki…” You said calmly to the blonde, swallowing hard as soon you saw the blonde’s fierce expression slowly soften into a surprised one.

Furious red eyes meeting your nervous (E/C) eyes.

“Momo… hold my tea…” You whispered to your friend as she did what you said, and was quick about it since she was expecting her volatile classmate to react somehow. Except even she didn’t know if it would be a positive or negative one.

“(Y/N)…”

His oddly calm voice is what truly surprised you as your eyes widened slightly. “U-Uh-huh…” You nervously mumbled as you carefully stood up, and he saw the way you winced and your crutches, along with the bandage in your foot barely covered by your shoe. “H-Hi…” And you could only pick up your bandaged hand to wave at him with an anxious smile.

But Bakugou didn’t respond to your greeting, and somehow you could understand this as your smile turned tearful as he marched over to you and brought his arms around you in a strong, protective hug. Your breath hitched as you wrapped your arms around him, almost clinging to him as you let your tears fall as the blonde didn’t dare show his tears as his hold around you tightened.

It was silent for a moment as the two of you hugged, and you felt partially aware of all the stares your friends were giving you and the ones who were trying to be polite and avert their eyes. You blinked through your tears to see Shinsou, except he wasn’t looking at you and instead kept his eyes to the floor.

You wondered what he was thinking…

But after a while you and Bakugou finally pulled away as you could see him glaring at you, only there was no real anger in his gaze, not towards you at least. “Just what the fuck happened to you…?” He calmly asked you even though he wasn’t oblivious to your injuries or the lingering bruises and scratches on you at all, but he knew you weren’t skilled in combat. He wished he was there though, had it been him any fucker who dared to try and touch you would have been killed right on the spot.

It was a sudden question for you though, but you couldn’t break down in front of them. Although it was a very traumatic experience, you forced yourself to tell your story because deep down, you didn’t want the ordeal to dominate you.

“I had help… from Shinsou.” You said simply and pointed at Shinsou, who briefly glanced over at you with a distant look, he barely noticed Kaminari going over to him. “Hey man are you all right?! (L/N) mentioned you in that video!” He was arguably the only person in 1-A that Shinsou considered something of a friend, because even when the other 1-A students acknowledged his return here his responses were brief and he shied away from them.

“I’m fine.” He replied quickly and calmly, crossing his arms and looking away even as Kaminari kept trying to ask him some questions, “Oh man are those bruises…? What the hell did you guys go through…?” Kaminari was very concerned though when he saw the fading bruises, cuts and scratches that were on the taller teen but Shinsou remained distant and quiet.

“Kaminari…” You knew Shinsou wasn’t going to speak about it, so you would, “(Y/N)… y-you don’t have to…” Izuku knew what you were going to do, and he didn’t want you to feel pressured to as he had avoided asking you too many questions about what you and Shinsou had to endure.

“It’s okay Izuku…” You reassured him with a smile though, much to Bakugou’s annoyance as he snarled at the green-haired boy, still beyond pissed that you had to reunite with fucking Deku first but also mad at himself for JUST missing you and leaving right when you arrived back to school.

“You guys… have a right to know… we’re friends after all…” You began slowly, keeping your voice level as your still expression worried both Izuku and Bakugou. “I was just walking home, alone… the next thing I know I’m awake and the back of my head is hurting… then I saw all of these goons… only I wasn’t alone… Shinsou was there too… and like me he was just going home by himself… apparently they got him too by surprise…”

Shinsou held his tongue as you told your friends the entire story, and many of them looked horrified as their eyes were wide with shock and terror. They couldn’t imagine how it must have felt to be trapped in a place with nothing but extreme cold weather and in the mountains where rescue seemed almost impossible.

“You said he had an ice quirk…?” Todoroki suddenly asked when you mentioned Koru, his eyes slightly interested if somewhat shocked to know that there was someone with a quirk much like his. You let out a small gasp though, and looked over at Todoroki in slight alarm, earning a somewhat confused look from the dual-haired boy.

Still you gave him a nod, “Y-Yeah… it seemed like he did. His other goon could also create tornados and control wind patterns… like… Yoarashi almost…” You revealed to Todoroki, and that name along piqued his interest if somewhat annoyed him too. He almost didn’t see the dubious look on your face when you thought about Koru.

But you weren’t going to be distracted as you continued to tell the story, and your friends were still horrified to hear about the kind of torture those men put you through, and what kind of psycho Koru was and the misogynistic assholes that beat you and Shinsou. Many were even trembling when you told them about that disgusting Lothario, and you saw the fury burning in both Izuku and Bakugou’s eyes when you mentioned him.

“I can still feel his grubby hands on me…”

Shuddering you inhaled deeply and exhaled, smiling when you felt Yaoyorozu hold your hand from where you sat. This made you smile for a moment as she let you continue your story, but you got a bit more graphic about how Lothario was killed by Shinsou’s hands. Speaking of which, you got extra graphic when you described the injuries you had suffered and even showed them the hand to prove it.

Although you had to admit you had a LITTLE bit of fun telling them how you killed a man in cold blood, vividly describing how you bludgeoned his head with a ski-pole. You remembered the noises though, despite the fact that you were smiling, those sounds and screams that heard were going to haunt you in your dreams.

“I had to save Shinsou… I was pretty useless just letting him carry me around, so I attacked that man… again, and again, and again…” You said somewhat shakily, there was some horror in your eyes but thank God for Yaoyorozu as she squeezed your hand to comfort you. And it did…

You really missed the girl, you could tell Yaoyorozu anything because she was so smart and yet she understood your feelings very well.

But you didn’t dare tell her or them about your more intimate moments with Shinsou though, and barely mentioned how close the two of you had gotten throughout the whole thing because you respected his and your privacy, not wanting the nosier ones like Mina or Kaminari or even Kirishima to badger you with naughty questions.

And you ended the story by telling them of how the two of you were rescued right at the moment where the two of you thought you were going to die, only for Eraserhead, Present Mic and other pro-heroes to show up in the nick of time.

“I was terrified man… but when I saw Mr. Aizawa and Mr. Yamada…” Chuckling ruefully, a tear rolled down your cheek as you smiled, “It’s like… in that kind of crisis, whether you’re religious or not… the human in you, seeks out some kind of… wish for something… anything… a higher power… God… or a spirit… anything that could be out there… to just… bring you something that will help you… because there were many times that I felt like… maybe we wouldn’t make it out alive, and I was so scared… and angry… thinking that… something didn’t answer or hear my wishes… but at that moment… seeing Mr. Aizawa and Mr. Yamada… standing with us, telling us that we were safe… that was when I knew that… my wish came true… Hitoshi and I… were rescued… Of course I… was a little bit skeptical because… sometimes you never know how the mind will work, with all the chemistry the human brain can create… I almost thought I was just imagining things many times but… I let myself breathe, see Hitoshi safe in one piece… and then I saw all of you guys… and… I know I’ve said this already but… that let me know that I was truly rescued… that me and Hitoshi were going to keep living… that we had survived everything… despite the many horrors and adversities… we still came out of it alive… we are alive… and that we will hopefully stay alive for a long time…”

You concluded your story, ending on a rather hopeful and happy note as you smiled with tears streaming down your cheek, letting Yaoyorozu stand up to hug you. Warmly you wrapped your arms around her, and you felt Uraraka, Tsuyu and Ashido all join in.

“Oh (Y/N)… we’re so glad you’re back!”

“Ribbit… what a story… you’re very brave to have endured everything but I’m so happy that you’re alive…”

“No kidding!! Thank God you’re okay!”

The girls each hugged you as you couldn’t help but giggle and hug them all so tightly, “I’m not going anywhere you guys… if I can survive all of that… nothing will get rid of me… or Hitoshi…” You chuckled with a little grin as they all giggled with you.

“(Y/N) I didn’t get a chance to hug you! I’m sorry!” Once the girls pulled away you were suddenly picked up and hugged rather tightly by an emotional Kirishima, like Bakugou, he felt guilty that he didn’t get to see you right when you arrived and just wanted hug you and apologize for it.

“K-Kirishima…” Your eyes were wide with surprise but a smile immediately came to your face at such sweetness. Kirishima was just too cute and sweet for you to resist, “You really don’t have to apologize but… I do like the sugar.” You happily hugged him back, and tightly as he happily tightened his hug on you.

“Well it’s all for you! Come on everyone! Let’s all give (Y/N) a hug! She’s earned it!” The redhead suddenly called all of his classmates as you perked up a bit with a small ‘what?’ but you weren’t really going to say ‘no’ to that as you giggled a little bit. However, you let out a small shout of surprise when your more eager classmates like Mina, Kaminari, Hagakure and Sero immediately rushed over in a line to hug you.

You laughed a little bit when you received so many hugs, especially from the sweeter ones, and then there was Mineta… “Hey (L/N)… I’m sooooo glad that you survived…” He wanted to hug you, but this naturally kind of disgusted you so you just nervously smiled, “Ah… Mineta… I’m… glad I survived too.” You were going to pat him on the head, but because Bakugou didn’t trust the little twerp at all he stood behind you, snarling at the smaller boy and showing his teeth as Mineta shrieked and suddenly ran off in terror...

“Oh…” That confused you, but you just shrugged with a small sigh of relief since you didn’t necessarily hate the boy but he did repulse you.

“How the fuck did you survive a frozen lake…?” Bakugou’s voice and question startled you though, and you turned to see him looking at you intently as you couldn’t fight the heat rising on your cheeks. There’s no way you could tell Bakugou exactly how you managed to stave off the cold, especially since you did what you had to do for Shinsou…

But the thing was, you liked it…

You liked the fact that you were naked with Shinsou, and you liked being that close to him in the moment…

“H-Hitoshi and I… we found that place… it still had things… miraculously to help us survive… as soon as I pulled him out of the water, I was able to find us spare clothes and a lighter to warm us back up…” You calmly lied despite your blushing cheeks, which you feared that Bakugou could see and he did.

He let out a small growl at the thought, a tinge of envy beginning to flurry in his chest as he tried to not think too hard about what you and Shinsou most likely had to do to survive. He wanted to be pissed and kind of shout at the brainwasher, but at the same time, he knew that you couldn’t have survived all by yourself if not for Shinsou. So he couldn’t say anything against him, because he saved your life and Bakugou was reluctantly grateful for him for that.

“Good…” He could only mutter with a surly look, making you smile and nod, “Yeah… very good…”

And you didn’t see Bakugou’s eyes narrow when he saw you looking around for Shinsou, who was being spoken to by Izuku, except it didn’t look like Shinsou was really giving much of a conversation.

“I-I really can’t thank you enough for protecting (Y/N)-chan… S-She’s been mine and Kacchan’s friend since elementary school… thank you Shinsou… thank you… s-so much…” You could hear Izuku nearly choking on his words as he bowed before the somewhat nervous-looking Shinsou as he scratched the back of his neck.

“Don’t… it was just luck… that we were both kidnapped together… (Y/N)… is not weak. She can take care of herself just fine… I just gave her a hand.” Shinsou was very modest when talking to Izuku, and you couldn’t help but smile widely and blush.

“You don’t give yourself enough credit Hitoshi…” Your voice somewhat startled him as he glanced at you for a little bit, and then quickly he looked away. “I don’t know what I’d have done without you…” Blushing, you shyly admitted that but Shinsou still didn’t look at you.

“You would have survived on your own.” He replied fast and calmly as he propped himself away from the wall he was leaning against to leave, walking past you without a second glance and without so much as a ‘see you’.

“Hitoshi?”

This confused you though, but you had noticed that Shinsou was acting stranger than normal ever since the two of you were rescued by Aizawa and Yamada.

“Hey… Hitoshi?” You tried calling him again but Shinsou kept walking away with his back turned, refusing to look back at you as your eyebrows furrowed a little bit.

Why was he being so weird…?

You almost expected him to be happy like you were since the two of you survived all of the shit that you’ve been through. Yet you didn’t see a single smile or smirk from him the entire time you guys had arrived back here.

“What the hell’s his problem?” Bakugou didn’t care about Shinsou but even he knew that the insomniac weirdo was being extra weird. “D-Dunno…” You shook your head with a sad look on your face, but at least Izuku was there to be more comforting.

“He’s probably still in shock… after what you both had to endure.” He suggested thoughtfully, which did nothing to ease your concerns about your friend, but you still nodded. Thinking that maybe Izuku was right, maybe Shinsou was still in some kind of shock and probably anxious with everyone having crowded you.

And then you were both going to have to go back to school with your other classmates probably going to ask you questions. And then there was the press that Aizawa and the other teachers were going to have to put up with…

Your parents… Oh God what were your parents going to think…

You almost didn’t want to know, but there was something you had to tell Aizawa though. After being trapped with Shinsou and alone in a room with the psychotic leader Koru for a while you had picked up a few things about him. Although you were reluctant because of the things you knew, or at least theorized about Koru because you weren’t sure how some people might react.

But it had to be done, so you moved away from a bewildered Izuku and Bakugou as they watched you go over to no one other than Todoroki.

“T-Todoroki…”

He turned to look at you, surprise glinting in his grey and blue eyes. “Yes (L/N)? Is there something wrong?”

“I… have to tell you something…”

ONE DAY LATER

It wasn’t vigilante justice, that’s what you were telling yourself as you and Todoroki walked together, being guided by Aizawa, All-Might and Present Mic to find Koru in the cell he was given where they were going to make him answer some questions.

“Oh… so you couldn’t stay away could you my little Sy Fy…?”

Koru’s hands were bound and covered by guards to prevent him from using his quirk, a shock-collar around his neck as he glowered at you from behind the bars that contained him. Even with your crutches that he could clearly see, your (E/C) eyes were cold as you stared at him. Hatred and apathy was all that he could see from you, “Where’s your boyfriend…? You and little Misty got close after all…”

Even when imprisoned Koru tried to fuck with you as he showed you his teeth as he grinned. Disgusting and mocking as his laughter came out in rasps, but then he paused and gasped when he met the equally bitter eyes of Todoroki.

One eye was grey, ones that he recognized and the blue eye that struck awe in his twisted heart. “Shoto Todoroki…”

As he said his name, Todoroki was practically freezing with a rage that you hadn’t seen since the Sports Festival and you had to hold him back. “Todoroki don’t… we have to ask him some questions…” You said to calm the very angry boy as Aizawa shut off his quirk before he could freeze the room from fury alone.

“Very well then…”

Oddly enough, Todoroki wanted to shoot first and ask questions later, but he wouldn’t disobey your requests and he wanted to hear this guy say it. If what you had theorized was true.

“Ooh… what is this the match game? What is it Sy Fy? What is it you wanna ask Koru?”

“Don’t play games Koru. Just answer the questions.” All-Might wasn’t going to let this man mock you after everything he did to you and Shinsou, if he could he’d punish him with a few good punches and kicks but there was nothing he could do anymore. He’d have to leave that to Endeavor…

“Okey dokey~. Go on… ask me.” Koru smiled at you, his teeth still bared as he snickered a little bit. You were still fuming with indignant vexation but you weren’t going to let this man get to you.

“Don’t act so smug Koru… because now you’re the prisoner. Now you’re going to see what it’s like to be treated like an animal, starved and stripped of basic human rights and needs…” First you had to talk down to him, because he deserved all of it. You just wished that Shinsou was here to see it because he deserved to see Koru like this as much as you did. Especially since he got the worst of the physical abuse.

“I remember you mentioned Endeavor once…” You began, and you didn’t have to look to see Todoroki’s calm fury as his fists clenched, “You were so marveled by the atrocities he committed… and you said that you wanted to traffic people with strong quirks… and then sell them off like cattle to vile people who want hybrid children…”

Koru just snickered at what you were saying and he took full responsibility for all of that as he burst into laughter, “That’s right… I remember Endeavor… the first time I saw that man I was so enthralled…”

“So you’ve met him once… of course you have… because after all… it was your sister that he married wasn’t it…?”

Suddenly you asked him the question you’ve been waiting to ask for a long time as you heard All-Might and Present Mic both gasp in shock, Aizawa and Todoroki’s eyes slowly widening. Koru was aghast as a bead of sweat dripped down his forehead, a sickening smile stretching his lips.

“I wish I could clap… I really do… little Sy Fy is Nancy Drew…”

Your own eyes went wide when Koru confirmed what you had hypothesized. It all made sense though, his quirk, the fact that he wanted you to find Todoroki and how he knew about what Endeavor did to his children.

“Can I just say… it’s very nice to finally meet you nephew… how’s little Rei-Rei? Still in the nuthouse?”

Todoroki nearly marched over to the man but you and All-Might had to hold him back as he growled, “Don’t you dare say my mother’s name…”

Koru just laughed at this, “And here I thought you’d be happy to see me… guess not…” His smile faded into a scowl, “Shame… you have your father’s power and disposition but you have her weakness…” Todoroki wanted to punch him, but the adults weren’t going to let him.

“I can’t believe you… you were her brother… You were supposed to protect her, and you let her get married off to that prick!” You nearly exclaimed as Koru’s dull eyes narrowed as he suddenly screamed and went on a mad tirade.

“Her marriage to Endeavor was the only time her pathetic life had ANY meaning! And you both know that! Our family knows that! Mom tried to protect her… but Dad and I knew better… we both know she’d never amount to anything unless she found a strong, influential husband! That man gave her a name! Because of him, YOU were born! Because of him, my livelihood was made! I became a part of his legacy! And the world will be full of more powerful children!”

“I’m going to kill him…” Todoroki snarled quietly but Aizawa had to restrain him with his scarf as he stared at him with his glowing red eyes. “Stand down Todoroki…” He warned his student even as Todoroki glared at him with a mix of freezing, burning umbrage in his eyes.

“Shoto…” You gave your friend a calm, but concerned look as he stared over at you, breathing heavily and yet calming down slowly the more he focused on you. It wasn’t too long before the guilt came into him when he realized that this man, who was apparently his uncle, had put you and Shinsou through hell. Endeavor was a vile man all on his own, but now he had to live knowing that his uncle was just as vile and even hurt you…

“I’m sorry (L/N)…” He averted his eyes from you as Aizawa let him go when the boy calmed down. When he was freed you quickly comforted him with a hug. “It’s not your fault…” You reassured him with tears in your eyes, but glared at the amused Koru just sitting in his cell and smiling at you both.

“Isn’t that sweet…?” He sardonically asked, ready to mock the two of you even more but Aizawa and All-Might weren’t going to let him have the last laugh.

“It’s over Koru. All of your men are captured, and the other students and people you kidnapped are freed. None of your disgusting ideas are going to come to fruition, and tomorrow you will never see the light of day when you’re taken to Tartarus.” Aizawa coldly shut down the villain who’s smile slowly dropped.

Koru lowly growled at the underground hero, letting out a small chuckle. “At least I’ll be alive… typical of you heroes… too merciful…”

“That’s what separates us from the likes of you…” All-Might replied to the villain with a look of disgust.

“So don’t get too comfortable in there. It’s gonna get much worse.” Present Mic gave a small chuckle at the villain, but Koru only rolled his eyes.

“Blah, blah, blah…” He ignored them, and seemed to happily await living out the rest of his days in Tartarus as Present Mic then led you and Todoroki out of the place. “Come on now you two, what’s gonna happen next ain’t for your innocent eyes…” The blonde man said somewhat nervously because he knew that Aizawa and All-Might had more questions for the villain, James Bond style…

Present Mic was kind enough to give you a ride home though, which you couldn’t have been more grateful for as you were both sitting in a car with the pro-hero driving.

“I always knew that my father was a piece of trash but… I never thought that my uncle would be… that kind of villain…” Todoroki never recalled his mother mentioning having any siblings, and he was starting to understand why if Koru’s words about Rei implied anything about their relationship. And he clenched his fists angrily, but you comforted him by putting a hand on his shoulder.

“Todoroki… it’s okay… he might be your uncle, but it doesn’t mean you’re in anyway like him… just like Endeavor… you’re not like him, and you’re not like Koru either… he was just… a sick-minded individual who was inspired by your awful father’s methods…” You reassured him with a gentle voice, rubbing his shoulder a little bit as he sighed.

He still felt guilty, thinking that somehow it was his fault a little bit because he was born and it clearly marveled that man. “I suppose…”

“Please… don’t feel guilty… because that men will never EVER see another day… he’ll never know peace… Aizawa and All-Might are going to shut down everything he has planned… all of his hideouts are going to be exposed… and his sick, vile, despicable soul will disappear from the world… forever…” You even gave him a serene smile as the boy looked at you, somewhat uncertain because of how calm you were.

However, this seemed to bring him peace because he would be happy as long as that man does nothing to harm one of his friends ever again. “Hopefully… Tartarus shows no mercy to villains like him.” He said, and you just smiled and nodded in agreement.

And Todoroki smiled back at you, still glad to see that you were still alive even after everything you’ve been through. “See you in school (L/N). Make sure you recover. You and Shinsou.” Todoroki bowed to you when Present Mic stopped in front of his home’s gates.

“Bye bye Todoroki~. I will I promise! See you!”

Waving at him cheerfully even as you left, you kept looking at Todoroki’s little smile up until you couldn’t anymore. Leaving you with just Present Mic as he began driving you home. “Say (L/N)… there’s actually something I was hoping to discuss with you. Teacher to student…” The man suddenly requested and you perked up a little bit.

“Yes sir…?”

Present Mic was clearly impressed with everything that you had done, especially with your mystery-solving skills plus the way you managed to alert everyone at the school those days ago with your quirk. As he talked to you, you also made sure to mention how you survived the elements when he asked you about it and his grin only grew.

“Aren’t you a feisty one? A little tough cookie…”

“I guess you can say that… not so sure about a cookie though.” You chuckled a little bit at your little joke as the pro-hero laughed a little bit.

“Definitely tough… so… I kind of want to make you an offer (L/N)…” Present Mic paused for dramatic effect even as he stopped in front of your house. You waited for a comical 5 seconds before he started talking again.

“So you’re not exactly experienced with combat, but you certainly know how to fight back! I mean you bashed a man’s head in for God’s sake! It’s kinda scary but still! You fought back and that’s what matters! And see… I can give you personal lessons on self-defense and combat! Although, your quirk can let you communicate with others from a distance, which… is extremely useful especially in those kinds of crisis’s. I think maybe with some more in-depth training… you can make that quirk grow to make you even more effective in the field. And maybe you can even… oh I don’t know… try and land a spot in the Hero Course?” He kept on talking, raising a brow and smirking at you a little bit when he saw your jaw drop and your (E/C) eyes going as wide as saucers.

“W-What…?” You absolutely couldn’t believe it. Was Present Mic really offering to take you under his wing and get you out of the General Studies?

“You heard me! I think you can do it! See (Y/N)… the world needs more heroes like you. Just cuz your quirk isn’t all panache and showy doesn’t mean you can’t still be a very useful hero. Just like that boy Shinsou… I think you have what it takes to get in the Hero Course…”

You inhaled sharply, clenching your fists as you were practically bouncing in joy at the thought and you couldn’t help but let out a rather loud scream that made Present Mic, of all people, cringe at such volume as you squealed happily.

“OH MY GOD! Oh my God… M-Mr. Yamada… I… God I can’t even… begin to explain how amazing that would be…” Shaking your head and panting from exhileration you were still in disbelief and for a moment there you were sure that you were dreaming now. Except this felt way too real to be a dream, and you pinched yourself again just to make sure. “Ow…!”

This confused Present Mic but he just shrugged and heartily laughed, “Well congratulations kid! I’m gonna be fightin’ for ya… but this means you’re gonna train a little bit harder now okay? I’ll be calling and emailing you for when our lessons begin, and you bet that I’ll be your mentor for the next internship.” He reminded you and was preparing to give you his contact information so that way he could call you for a training session.

“Okay! You’ve got it sir! Wait…” However, you became a BIT more skeptical about something, “You’re not doing this just to compete with Mr. Aizawa are you…?” You gave him a bit of a look and he immediately laughed that off.

“NO! Of course not! Ahahahaha…” He snickered and shook his head with a nervous grin, “I mean… it’d be great if my student were to beat HIS student, but in all honesty… I really was impressed by how you survived such a hell (L/N)… I mean that Shinsou kid is great and all, but I see a lot of potential in you.”

Present Mic wasn’t lying to you and you could tell. Your smile grew as you tried to not tear up a little bit, but then you also giggled a little bit when you thought about what your teacher said about beating Aizawa’s student. As much as you loved Shinsou, beating him would be fun…

Shinsou…

That’s right…

You hadn’t stopped thinking about him, not ever since you were both rescued and he had become more distant with you. Hell, he didn’t even call or text you about anything.

“What are you thinking about~?” But Present Mic noticed that you seemed lost in your thoughts for a second there, “Or rather… WHO are you thinking about~?” His voice turned teasing as your cheeks instantly started to flush bright red.

“I-I’m not thinking about anyone!” You claimed somewhat loudly, scoffing and rolling your eyes but you just made the blonde man snicker. “Riiiiiiiight… well… I’ll let you go now… but remember, training is going to start real soon! Get ready to work your butt off! You’re my new protégé!” He enthusiastically said to you as you smiled and got out of the car.

“Y-Yes! Of course, thank you Mr. Yamada you won’t regret it! I’ll be ready I promise!” To get Shinsou off your mind, you focused more on that as you saw Present Mic wave at you.

“Try not to think too much about Shinsou okay~? You’ll get distracted if you do!” He then said one last thing just to mess with you as you shouted a little bit in embarrassment. “I-I’m not thinking about him!!” You shrieked a little bit but Present Mic already took off driving, leaving you to pout and blush even heavily as you went back inside your house.

Needless to say, your parents were beyond relieved that you were back home and safe and sound. Albeit they had felt extra protective now because of everything you had to endure, but with UA promising to double the supervision and security, their worries were only slightly put at ease.

You told them not to worry too much though, and that you would from now on, walk home with friends instead of alone. And that concluded with them giving you the biggest and tightest hug, until they let you go to your room…

Except you couldn’t really go to sleep that night, because you were too busy thinking about Shinsou. God, it felt weird without him and it almost made you tremble from a strange anxiety you hadn’t felt since the mountain…

And the mountains and the snow, they made you think about Koru. How you hated him so much. But you knew he wasn’t going to see another day, not after you used your quirk for a special purpose.

Meanwhile…

Koru sat alone in his cell in this blasted, puny little prison that was hardly comfortable, although he knew Tartarus was going to be worse he was just glad that he wasn’t going to be murdered and that maybe his followers in other parts of the world would still be active and performing his plans. He would be alive to hear all of his plans come to fruition…

Sighing, he closed his eyes to fall into an uncomfortable sleep.

At least… until he smelt something burning and he nearly jumped when he heard an explosion and other inmates screaming when debris went flying and knocked several of them out. Koru grunted and curled up to avoid the damage, but then he heard screams of the wardens and a few of the other prisoners. The suffocating smell of smoke filling his nostrils as he peered around his surroundings…

Flames as blue as the sky were burning so hot, he could feel the heat uncomfortably warming his skin and feeling like he just might melt. There were footsteps, and he made the mistake of looking upward to see eyes of frozen blue.

“Never thought I’d see you again…”

The voice was deep, and his face looked like death itself, skeletal with those stitches. Hair so black it blended with the darkness that was staved away by the glowing blue flames.

“Touya…?”

Koru knew about Endeavor’s other children, and he met them all once before Shoto was born. He was the only other child that impressed him and he remembered the boy before he was… this…

“A little birdie named (L/N) sent me…” An unsettling smile came to his stitched lips as he held up his hand, allowing blue flames to ignite from his palms. “Said you were mean to my little brother… and that the cold doesn’t bother you… I hope a little warmth doesn’t bother you either…”

His smile turned into a smirk as he made his way closer to the man with a devious glimmer in his eyes when he saw Koru’s eyes widening in horror. Because he knew that it was over, that he was going to die and at the hands of his nephew and the person he tormented…

As a burst of murderous flames roared, Koru let out agonizing, bloodcurdling screams as he could feel the azure blazes melting his skin to the bone as the fire slowly engulfed him into nothing but ash, flames and bone as he stared back up at his killer and nephew.

Unbeknownst to him, you were there watching. Not physically, but you were keeping an eye on Dabi and you stood right beside the taller man with a disturbingly tranquil expression, a small smile coming to your lips when you saw him burning until he took his last breath.

“Heh… never gets old to watch someone burn…” He said lowly, fully aware that you were there in his head as he smirked a little bit.

“You’re a tough little bitch aren’t you?” His tone was almost playful, and you could only roll your eyes. “Sometimes you have to be. Especially when someone you care about gets hurt…” You replied though, since you knew that even if he wanted to, he couldn’t hurt you.

Dabi only chuckled a little bit, as if he was impressed by your attitude, “I like your moxie… almost can’t wait to see it again someday…” He told you before he exited the ruined prison, disappearing into the night before the other pro-heroes could catch him and you could see him fade from your vision.

Your eyes opened as you lied on your bed, finding yourself back in your room and when you couldn’t sleep for a whole hour, you decided to watch a little bit of TV. But the burning prison immediately came on the news as the pro-heroes and the police had arrived on the scene as quickly as they could.

The people in the vicinity were horrified, and yet a dark smile came to your lips when you watched the prison burn to the ground. Koru was dead, and he deserved every painful second of it. He hurt you, tormented you and made you his prisoner, and he hurt Shinsou and made him a prisoner and he suffered because of him.

Prison was too good for him, and you were happy that he was dead. 

He would never hurt you or anyone else again, and he wouldn’t ever hurt your dear Shinsou again.

[seeaddywrite]

“Everything you think I need isn’t what I need. What I need is you.” take your pic I'll be stoked with anything you write

for you, @ubiestcaelum! i hope you like it :) [also, y’all, just in case: warnings for non-graphic panic attack & references to child abuse & PTSD.]

EDIT: Now with a companion fic from Alex’s POV.

want to send a prompt? 

Michael has no idea how to help Alex on bad days. The airman had been right, when he came to the trailer and pointed out that they don’t really know each other – they’ve never spent a lot of time talking. As teenagers, they had to sneak around to spend time together, and there were far more interesting things to do. And then, well – after that, there was never enough time. They’ve been better about it lately, while trying to learn how to be friends, but Michael still doesn’t know how Alex lost his leg, or what to do when the other man turns pale and withdrawn in the middle of the Wild Pony during a particularly raucous bar fight. 

The crowd is thick and loud around them, talking and laughing as Max’s coworkers haul the two combatants out the front door. Everyone else sitting around their table returns to their conversations; Liz is leaning against Max’s shoulder, laughing at something he murmured in her ear, while Isobel and Kyle Valenti toss verbal barbs back and forth across their beers. And all the while, Alex seems to get smaller and smaller, pulling into himself and 

It blows his mind that no one else seems to notice how Alex has pulled away from the conversation and looks like he’s about to puke. He smiles and nods along when he’s forced, but Michael can see the facade, and the way it seems to slip lower with each passing second. He glances at Liz, hiding it with a long drag from his beer bottle. She’s one of Alex’s best friends; surely, she’d notice Alex’s tension? The way none of his smiles reach his eyes, or the slight trembling in his fingers when he forgets to grip the bottle in his hands tightly enough to hide it? 

But even if Liz knows Alex well enough to pick up on the signs that he’s so good at hiding, she’s too lost in Max to notice tonight. He almost wishes he could be that oblivious … but for the past two months of friendship with Alex, he’s made a study of the man’s tells and nonverbal cues. He has an intimate knowledge of the slope of his shoulders and the lines in his face, and can close his eyes and picture exactly the way Alex looks when he’s relaxed and smiling. It’s a little pathetic, he supposes, his inability to look away from Alex. It’s been made clear, time and time again, that Alex doesn’t want Michael as anything more than a friend, and friends definitely don’t do that sort of thing. But there’s no switch to flip, no way to force himself to let go of the feelings he’s had since the day he stole Alex’s guitar from the music room, and Michael doesn’t think he’d do it, even if he could. 

“Alex?” No one else is going to do anything, and Michael is physically incapable of watching Alex struggle alone right in front of him.  “Hey, you good, man?” He keeps his voice quiet, and leans forward so that only the intended recipient of his whisper will hear. Michael knows enough of who Alex is to know that he wouldn’t want attention brought to the faraway look in his eyes, and he certainly wouldn’t want anyone fussing over him. So, uncertain as he is, Michael shoves his own chair between the others and Alex, shielding him from view with the bulk of his body, and tentatively reaches out to brush his fingertips against the back of Alex’s hand in an effort to get his attention. 

A full-body flinch is the response, and Michael yanks his hand back as Alex finally turns his head to look at him, the motion jerky. Awkward silence falls between them, even as someone turns the music back up on the jukebox in the corner, and Michael rubs at the back of his neck uncertainly. “You want to get out of here?” he asks finally, after another minute of staring, wherein it seems like Alex is trying to say something without opening his mouth, and all Michael can worry about it overstepping one of the many lines that have been drawn between them. 

The responding nod is immediate, if a little uncoordinated. They didn’t come together, but Michael doesn’t think he can just walk Alex to his car and watch him drive off like this. What if he’s too distracted to drive safely? What if there’s something really wrong, and he shouldn’t be left alone? There are too many questions and Michael’s too chicken-shit to ask for the answers. He’s been shoved out of Alex’s life so many times that he’s still recovering from the whiplash, and Michael doesn’t know if he can take another round. But Alex is looking at him with something bordering desperation in his familiar, dark gaze, and Michael isn’t soulless enough to let that look go unanswered. 

“Guys, I’m gonna call it a night,” Michael announces to their assembled friends, standing up from his chair and shoving it back into place beneath the table. 

“Michael Guerin, calling it a night after one drink?” Isobel teases, lifting her lined eyes to his. “No way! Stay here and drink with us!” She’s already pretty drunk, judging by the way her speech slurs and she doesn’t make a single disparaging remark about the bar. Max is going to have a hell of a time getting her home, but he’s got Liz and Valenti for backup, and it’s not like she doesn’t deserve to try to drink her sorrows away after everything she’s been through in the past few months. 

“I’ll see you for dinner at your place tomorrow,” he promises her, leaning forward to brush his lips to the top of her hair. Michael glances at Max while she can’t see him, and his brother nods once, a resigned quirk of his lips obvious only to those who knew him well. He’s as worried about Isobel as Michael is, but nothing but time is going to heal the wounds that Noah left in their sister, and for now, Alex is a more pressing concern. 

He turns back to the other man after he finishes his goodbyes. He’s still pale, but seems to have pulled himself together enough to wave at the others. Then, Alex gestures down at his leg with a small sigh, glancing at Michael and then away, like he’s ashamed of something. “Think you could give me a hand?” The question is quiet and a little strained, but hearing Alex’s voice relaxes Michael a little. At least if he’s still talking, things can’t be that bad. Can they?

Without a word, Michael holds out his hands. Months ago, he would’ve just grabbed him by the waist and pulled him up, relishing in the proximity of their bodies. But things are different now, and the only way he touches Alex now is if the other man makes the first overture. He doesn’t have to wait long; Alex’s shaking fingers wrap around Michael’s steady hands, and he pulls him up out of the chair, automatically taking his weight when he stumbles. Vaguely, Michael hears Max and Liz asking if they need help, but he just waves them off and makes sure Alex is steady before starting toward the entrance of the bar. They’ll have plenty of questions to answer when they face their friends again, and most of them will probably be annoying and nosy, but that’s a problem for later. 

The moment they’re outside, Alex stops pretending that he’s supporting himself and slumps against Michael’s chest in a rare show of vulnerability. His cheek rests against the top of Michael’s shoulder, Alex’s rapid breath making the side of his neck feel humid and sending a ticklish thrill down his spine. “Hey,” Michael murmurs, wondering what the hell he’s supposed to do with his hands, now. He can’t let go without worrying that Alex will fall, but part of him is afraid that the longer he holds on, the harder it will be when he has to let go. “You okay?” 

Alex’s responding chuckle is mirthless. “You already know the answer to that,” he says,  the strain of holding casual conversation obvious in his voice. 

Michael doesn’t bother to deny it. “You checked out on us during that fight. You faked it pretty well for a while, but I – I could tell something was wrong.” It’s as close to asking what’s going on in Alex’s head as he’s going to get. “You want me to take you home? Maria won’t let anyone tow your SUV.” Talking so nonchalantly is harder than it should be with Alex’s warmth seeping into him. This is the closest they’ve been since they had sex before that night at the drive-in, and Michael wants to bury his head in the sand and pretend that the proximity isn’t just because Alex is looking for any port in a storm. 

“I can –”

“If you’re about to try to tell me you can drive home, save it. I know you’re a badass, okay? I know you can take care of yourself, and you don’t want me around when you feel like shit because we’re just friends, or whatever your problem is this time. But your hands are shaking, and I’m not letting you drive until I’m sure you’re going to make it the whole way out to that cabin safely.” God, why is it so fucking hard for Alex to let Michael help, just a little? He’s not asking to spend the night! He just wants to make sure he’s safe. Are they really on such bad terms now that he can’t care at all? 

There’s a beat of silence. “I was just going to say that I can send her a text tomorrow and ask her to have someone drive it to the cabin,” Alex says, so quietly that Michael can barely hear it. His entire body has gone rigid, and before Michael can figure out what the problem is, he’s pulling away to stand on his own. “I’d appreciate the ride. If you don’t mind.” 

The formality makes Michael want to rip his hair out of his head, but he bites back a snappish reply and just nods to his truck, parked almost directly in front of them. He wants to ask if Alex can get in on his own; he seems awfully unsteady on his feet, still, and Michael assumes that something has gone wrong with his bad leg, but again, the questions just turn into a lump in his throat. Alex manages on his own, though, rendering that a moot point, so Michael walks around and climbs into the driver’s side silently. 

Neither of them speak for the first ten minutes. Alex spends the time with his hands curled into fists on his thighs, his face pale and drawn in the moonlight that shines through the windshield. He doesn’t seem to be any better now that they’ve left the bar, which Michael had hoped would be enough. But it isn’t, and he’s not able to just leave things this way. “What happened?” he asks finally, the question shattering the tense silence. 

“The guy Hank punched fell on me,” Alex answers abruptly, the words short and terse. “Just for a minute. But my damn leg has been aching all day, and he jolted the prosthetic. It hurts, and I don’t – I can’t –” His breath is coming so rapidly that it sounds like he’s panting, and Michael looks toward him, ready to pull over as soon as Alex gives him a reason. “I panic, sometimes. When it hurts. It’s stupid, and there’s no fucking reason for it, but -”

Michael thinks he gets it. Sometimes, when his hand spasms in the middle of the night, he wakes up sure that Jesse Manes is in the trailer with him. It always takes some time for his heart to stop racing, after that, and he never quite manages to fall back to sleep. Alex’s trauma is so much worse; it doesn’t surprise him that the same thing might happen in his case without the added disorientation of sleep. “Panic doesn’t usually need a reason,” he says evenly. “Anything I can do to help?” 

They’re pulling into Alex’s driveway now, and Michael can practically see his chance to be with Alex and actually do something to help slipping away. Alex will go inside to lick his wounds privately, and Michael will be left on the other side of the door, waiting and wondering and wishing, until he’s forced to give up and leave. 

As soon as the engine turns off, Michael finds himself locked in a staring contest with Alex, who’s eyes have that same desperate and expectant look in them from back at the bar. Michael returns the look helplessly, wordlessly conveying that he doesn’t know what Alex wants or needs from him. “Alex –” 

There’s no time to finish the thought before the other man has his hands in a death grip, clutching so tightly that Michael can feel his fingernails break skin. It makes his bad hand ache a little, but that’s not nearly a good enough reason to pull away from Alex. In fact, Michael could have been bleeding out, and he would’ve still held Alex’s hand. “Don’t make me ask, Guerin.” The whisper catches him by surprise, and Michael’s mouth closes with a surprised snap. “Please?”

“Isobel’s the mind reader, Alex,” he retorts, a hint of defensiveness running through the words despite his best efforts. “I can’t just look in your head to figure out if you need space, or a ride, or hand to hold, or whatever it is you’re angling for right now. You’ve gotta actually say it.”

Alex sighs, and shakes his head. “Everything you think I need isn’t what I need,” he says, and for the first time in the last hour, his gaze is steady. “I mean, maybe the handholding thing would be nice, but I’ve had so much space lately that I can’t stand it. This isn’t going to get any better, Michael.” His fingers tremble around Michael’s hands, and wordlessly, Michael reverses them, so that he’s holding Alex’s clasped palms between both of his, keeping them still. Alex stares down at their entwined hands for a long moment, biting at his lower lip, as if he can’t decide how to finish, or how much he should say. 

“I’ve been trying to stay away from you until I get my head together, because I don’t know that I can be what you need, right now. And it’s not fair for me to keep running away every time you help me keep it together. I’m a fucking mess, and I don’t – Jesus, Michael, some days I can’t even get out of bed. What kind of man does that? What kind of boyfriend could I be? But –  I think, maybe –  what I need is you. If there’s even still a chance of that.” 

Michael just stares at Alex for a long moment, trying to put that speech and its ramifications into the boundaries and lines drawn between him and Alex. It doesn’t fit, it doesn’t make sense – but it does, at the same time. Because of course Alex thinks he’s a mess. Of course Alex has been struggling since he lost his leg. It’s so ingrained in Alex to think that’s he’s the problem, that his issues are an inconvenience thanks to his fucked-up, psychopathic father – and Michael should have known that. He should have been here a long time ago, rather than sulking about his broken heart. 

But he’s here now, and he can’t change the past. 

“Ask me,” he says, bringing Alex’s hands up to press his lips to shaking fingers. “Just ask, Alex.”

Uncertainty wars with hope in Alex’s eyes, and Michael wants to reassure him, to tell him to forget the words, and just take him inside and wrap him up in his arms, if that’s what Alex wants. But there’s a chasm between them, put there by years of mistakes and harsh words on both sides, and Michael needs to know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, what Alex’s expectations are. What he wants. Because if he fucks this up now, Michael doesn’t know if he’ll be able to come back from it. 

“Stay,” Alex says finally, his voice cracking. “Just – stay.” His hands break free of Michael’s and scrabble at his shoulders in an attempt to pull him closer, or maybe hold him there, like he’s afraid the word will send him running. And Michael doesn’t hesitate; he leans awkwardly over the center console and hugs Alex tightly, ignoring the damn thing as it pushes into his side. 

“You’re okay,” he promises, one hand cradling the back of Alex’s head while the man burrows into the space between his shoulder and neck, his entire body trembling. “Just breathe, Alex. I’m not going anywhere.” 

There’s more to be said, he knows, but Michael isn’t cruel enough to make Alex spell it all out tonight. He got what he needed; for now, he’s going to give Alex what he asked for. And maybe, when all’s said and done, they can keep each other from falling apart. 

[lucifer-in-my-head]

To Love a Prince - Chapter Six

Summary:   A new kingdom. A new home. A new husband. When Prince Dolion is arranged to marry the heir of another kingdom, he is eager to leave behind his loneliness, along with the family he knows won’t miss him - but fate is not so benign. Married to a man that does not love him, Dee finds his heart drawn to another; a man that can never be his. As the stability of his marriage rapidly deteriorates, Dee must endure the weight of his own feelings, the crushing isolation that comes with them…and the brutality of the one who is supposed to protect him. Pairings: Roman/Deceit (abusive), Virgil/Deceit   Overall Warnings: Abuse, abusive relationship, abusive Roman, angst, broken bones, disowning, domestic abuse, exploration of trauma, injuries, non/con, parental neglect, rape, sympathetic Deceit, violence Chapter Warnings: Violence, graphic domestic abuse, unsympathetic Roman, abusive Roman Word Count: 3068 Masterlist AO3

Chapter Six:

Dee sighed as he sat on a bench, watching Roman spar with yet another knight. They were in the knight’s training grounds, this time, not Roman’s private room, which meant that Dee got to be outside for once. Back at his old castle, he’d been a bit more indifferent to whether he was indoors or outdoor, when he’d had the freedom to do mostly as he wished. Here, though, rare was the day he got to leave the confines of the palace walls, so he was very much enjoying the time spent outside. 

The sounds of combat filled the air - the ringing of sword against sword, heavy breathing and grunting as punches landed and bodies collided - wasn’t the most pleasant sound in the world, but it was worth it to be able to breathe in the fresh air, to feel the sun on his face. A soft smile pulled at his lips as he watched a couple of birds flit around the trees, going about their days without a care in the world. 

He longed for that.

Sure, he didn’t have any real responsibilities here, but what was Roman’s problem inadvertently became Dee’s problem when he was subjected to it at the consistency that he was, and so Dee often found that he was concerning himself over issues that he had no power to resolve. It was somewhat tiring, in all honesty. He’d be grateful for some real responsibility, but that would entail him having to do things without Roman constantly by his side, and though he hadn’t yet stated it outright, Dee had the feeling Roman forced his accompaniment in order to keep an eye on him, rather than worry over his wellbeing, like he’d claimed when Dee asked that first day.

Lately, he had the feeling that Roman was suspect to Dee’s...secret. 

Dread seeped into him at the thought, and a shudder went through him. He’d tried so hard to repress the traitorous feelings! To be the perfect husband to Roman, to be quiet and gentle and to please him in whatever way he wanted, but it never seemed to be enough. Roman had lost the tenderness he held for Dee in the beginning, and no matter how hard Dee tried to coax it out of him…

If they weren’t in public, Roman had nothing to give. 

Day by day, Dee found it harder and harder to cope with this knowledge. Much like his feelings for Virgil, he tried to suppress it, tried to pretend that it wasn’t true - that Roman did love him! But he knew it was a lie born out of his own desperation... 

He jerked back to reality as a flash of purple entered his vision, and he looked up to see the Captain of the Guard smiling down at him. “Hey,” he said. “Mind if I join you?”

“Of-of course,” Dee stuttered, shuffling over on the bench a little bit to make room for Virgil.

Virgil thanked him and sat down, exhaling. “So...how have you been, Your Highness?” He asked. 

“Just Dee, please,” he requested softly, before putting on a smile. “I’ve been well. Yourself?”

“I suppose I’ve been doing alright. Roman’s been tiring me out, though,” Virgil grinned. “Why do you think I pawned him off on the other knights?” 

Dee laughed, quickly slapping a hand over his mouth to quieten himself. Virgil gave a bark of a laugh in return, causing Dee’s cheeks to heat up in embarrassment! 

After a moment, Virgil’s smile faltered a little. “You’ve been looking more tired, lately.” he noted. “Are you alright?”

“Of course I’m alright!” Dee said, likely too quickly. “Why wouldn’t I be alright?” 

Virgil’s brows furrowed fractionally. “That’s a good question,” he said. “Tell me. What’s bothering you?”

“Nothing, Captain,” Dee said, trying to end the topic of conversation. If Virgil thought something was wrong with him, he might talk to Roman, and then Roman would get angry with Dee… 

Virgil frowned at his curt response but didn’t press the issue any further, much to Dee’s relief. Instead, they sat in silence for a few minutes, both of them wanting to say something but neither knowing what should be said. Eventually, Dee broke the silence. 

“You’re a magnificent fighter,” he complimented, his gaze meeting Virgil’s for a moment. “I can’t say I’ve yet had the pleasure of watching you outside of your sparring matches with Roman, but…” He cursed himself internally, not knowing how he should end the sentence. 

Virgil smiled a smile that told Dee that the Captain had heard the same compliment too many times for it to mean anything to him anymore, and, again, he cursed himself for not thinking of something more original to say to him. 

“Thank you,” Virgil responded. 

“You’re, uh...you’re welcome,” Dee said, cheeks flushed. 

“You know, my offer to teach you still stands,” Virgil said to him, and Dee had to think for an embarrassingly long moment before he remembered what Virgil was talking about. 

“The- oh, right. The offer to teach me to fight,” he recalled. “I...I don’t see the point. I took fighting lessons back at my old home, and my father ended up giving up on trying to find someone who could teach me after three swordmasters tried and failed.” 

“Well then, they must not have been the swordmasters they thought they were,” Virgil said without missing a beat. 

Dee shook his head. “No, they were excellent. I’m just unteachable.” 

“Nonsense,” Virgil argued. “You just haven’t found the right teacher yet.” 

Dee was quiet for a moment. “And...you think you could teach me…?”

Virgil smiled and nodded. “If I can teach Princey, over there, I can teach you,” he said, nodding to Roman. 

Dee huffed a soft laugh. “Maybe I will take you up on your offer after all, then,” he conceded, giving Virgil a smile. Virgil smiled back, and Dee’s cheeks tinted red with his blush. Virgil cocked his head. 

“Your face is going red,” he noted, and Dee’s eyes widened fractionally. “Is it getting too hot out here for you?”

Dee latched onto the excuse Virgil provided ready-made for him. “A little,” he lied, glancing down at his feet for a moment. 

“Would you like to go inside? Get out of the heat?” Virgil suggested. “I can escort you, if you wish.”

“Goodness, no,” Dee said. “This is the first time I’ve been outside in weeks.”

“Roman keeping you busy?”

“Very,” Dee said, sighing. “Please don’t tell him I said this, but...it’s rather draining; following him around all day and never getting any time to myself…”

“Yeah, I can understand that,” Virgil said, giving him a sympathetic look. “I think I’d throw myself off of Logan’s tower if I had to spend all day every day with His Highness.”

“Hey! I heard that!”

Dee startled at the sound of Roman’s voice, scooting away from Virgil as Roman stepped over to them. He sat down between them, wrapping an arm around Dee’s waist and pulling him back over, holding him somewhat tightly. 

“I meant no disrespect, Your Highness,” Virgil said with a grin, rolling his eyes fondly while Dee resisted the urge to squirm in Roman’s grip. “We were merely jesting.”

Roman looked at him for a moment, before a grin split his face, and he laughed. “Of course, Virgil,” he chuckled. “I knew you weren’t serious.” 

Virgil chuckled with him, glancing over to Dee, who averted his eyes and kept his gaze fixed on Roman’s black boots, shiny towards the top but flecked with dirt lower down. “You alright, Dee?” He asked.

“Of course,” Dee assured him, forcing himself to relax. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

He glanced up long enough to see Virgil’s lips press together, but the Captain didn’t say anything more to him. Instead, he and Roman discussed how the sparring matches had been going, what Roman had been doing right, what he’d been doing wrong, and where he could improve. Dee admittedly tuned most of it out, a little distracted by the tight grip around his waist. 

Why is he holding me so tightly? He wondered, wriggling just a little bit to try and give himself some space to breathe. The moment he moved, though, Roman’s grip tightened, and Dee fell still, heeding the wordless warning. His breathing stuttered for a moment.

Roman was angry with him.

He remained silent unless spoken to, not wanting to do anything else to further Roman’s anger. For a moment, he pushed away the dread of what he knew was coming once they were alone - anger, shouting, sex - and instead focussed on what he could see, right now. 

The knight’s training yard was large, of course. Several hundred metres each way of open ground, with several rope rings for sparring matches and one large rope rectangle for group exercises. The ground was firm, but not overly hard, the thin layer of dirt dusting his shoes. Around the edge of the grounds, about five-ten metres between each, sat large trees, giving off shade into the yard no matter which side of the sky the sun sat at. 

Dee didn’t think the training grounds were particularly beautiful, but they certainly weren’t terrible. At least there was shade, here. He gazed over the wall, trying to see what was on the other side but failing. He was too short, and being held down on the bench wasn’t advantageous to his endeavours either. He sighed softly, wishing he could go see the gardens. He’d only been able to once, during his tour of the palace when he’d first come here, but he hadn’t had the free time to return, since. 

Another squeeze of his waist brought his mind back to the matters at hand, and Dee looked up to Roman. “I’m returning to the ring to spar for another few rounds,” his husband informed him. “Wait here for me, dearest.”

“Of course, my love,” Dee said, his voice quiet. 

Roman gave him another look that sent Dee’s eyes back to the ground, and let go of him, getting to his feet and walking away. Dee’s gaze followed his boots back into the ring, silent. Virgil didn’t say anything for a while, either, and for that, Dee was glad. There was a sinking feeling in his stomach, and Dee no longer felt like talking.

“Would you like to go for a walk?” Virgil asked eventually, to which Dee shook his head. “We don’t have to go for long. We can be back by the time Roman’s done in the ring.” Dee could hear the worry in Virgil’s voice, and he hated it. He didn’t want to worry anyone...he was fine. Everything was fine…

“No thank you,” He said politely. “I’d rather sit for a while.” 

Dee saw Virgil make a displeased face out of the corner of his eye, and his gut twisted. Was Virgil angry with him too…?

No...no, he was just worried, Dee realised as he looked at him more closely. Damn…

“Are you sure?” Virgil asked, pushing the matter a little too much for Dee’s comfort. He scooted a little further away, fixing his gaze firmly on Roman.

“I’m certain,” He said. “I’d like to stay and watch my husband.”

Virgil opened his mouth to retort, but stopped himself, for which Dee was thankful. They both knew Dee didn’t really want to stay. But he had to. Roman had told him to wait for him.

So Dee waited. 

Over the next hour, while Roman sparred, the two remained silent, though they found themselves inching towards one another on the bench, closing the distance between them at a snail’s pace. Dee didn’t dare move any quicker. All too soon and yet not soon enough, they were separated by mere inches. Dee could feel his breathing becoming shallower at the proximity, could feel his face heating up.

Virgil’s fingers twitched, and Dee longed to reach out his hand and hold them. Longed to close the distance between them completely, and rest his head against Virgil’s shoulder, close his eyes and listen to the Captain’s heartbeat. Almost of its own free will, his hand moved, sliding across his thigh to rest on the bench between them. He saw Virgil’s eyes flick down to it, then back up, his own hand moving slowly towards it.

A cry of victory from Roman had Dee’s hand snapping back to his lap, jerking away from Virgil like he’d been burned. How stupid could he be? His husband was barely a yard away from him and here he was, about to hold the hand of another man! The Captain of the Guard, no less! What was he, a harlot?

His face burned red at the thought, and he wrung his hands together, his lower lip trembling. What was he doing? He was supposed to be repressing these feelings, not encouraging them! Virgil was off-limits, and Dee was, once again, married! 

Dee’s entire being filled with shame at what he’d been about to do. It was bad enough that he’d fallen in love with someone else, but to attempt to act on those feelings? Dee truly had betrayed his husband.

He was despicable. 

He scooted over to the end of the bench, putting as much distance between himself and Virgil as he could without being overly suspicious to those around them. His heart ached as he heard Virgil’s quiet, disappointed sigh, even as his heart leaped as his mind begged the question - does the Captain return my feelings? 

His knee jerk reaction was to say that no, of course Virgil didn’t feel the same way about him. He was, well, him! He was brave, and strong, and talented and wonderful and everything Dee wasn’t! He was also an honourable man, and no man claiming honour would chase after the husband of the Prince.

And yet… 

And yet Virgil had been about to take Dee’s hand…

The flame of Dee’s inner turmoil roared at the thought, and he fixed his gaze firmly to the ground. How could he have let himself slip this far? He should’ve stamped out these feelings the moment they’d begun. He was such a fool…   

He remained completely silent until Roman returned, not wanting to risk doing something stupid again if he let himself talk to Virgil. When his husband did finally return, Dee got to his feet, eager to run away from whatever madness Virgil had infected him with. Roman said his goodbyes to Virgil, and Dee gave him a respectful nod as they left, going about the rest of their usual busy day. 

Dee barely spoke another word until they returned to their chambers that evening.

Once they were alone, Dee prepared himself to be verbally berated for whatever Roman thought he’d done, or to be shoved down onto the bed. 

He wasn’t prepared for the silence.

The silence ate away at him, Roman’s glare burning through him like fire. He was silent for so long that eventually, Dee broke the silence, unable to stand it any longer.

“My love, what is the matter?” He asked quietly. Roman scoffed.

“‘My love’,” he mimicked, his eyes raging as he stared Dee down. ���Tell me, ‘my love’, who truly holds your affection? Is it me, your adoring husband? Or is it someone else?” Dee’s stomach felt like an empty pit as Roman stepped slowly closer, drawing himself to his full height as Dee shrank in on himself with wide eyes. Roman stopped barely a foot away from him, and at his next words, Dee’s heart stopped.

“Or is it Virgil?”

Dee’s mouth opened, but nothing came out. He stared up at Roman, his eyes filled with guilt and shame. 

His head snapped to the side as the sound of Roman’s palm connecting with his cheek echoed through their chambers, and Dee barely even heard his own cry over the ringing in his ear. He stumbled backwards, but Roman grabbed him by the collar of his tunic, pulling him back towards him. 

“You little wench!” He spat, shaking Dee roughly. Dee yelped, his hands gripping Roman’s wrists as his eyes widened with fear. 

“I- I’m sorry! I never meant to- I haven’t done anything I still love you I swear-”

“DON’T LIE TO ME!” Roman roared, backhanding him. Dee cried out as his vision went white, and he tried to pull away from Roman. 

“I’m not lying!” He cried pleadingly, tears burning in his eyes as his cheeks stung painfully. “I swear it!”

Roman roared, throwing Dee against the wall and slamming his fist into his stomach. Dee doubled over, but Roman wasn’t done. His knuckles connected with the side of Dee’s face and he went down, collapsing to the floor with a cry of pain.

A strangled scream burst from his lips as Roman slammed his boot into Dee’s ribs, and then again into his belly. He coughed and sputtered, scrambling to try and get to his feet, but Roman kicked him down again, his boot slamming into Dee’s sternum.

All the breath rushed from his lungs and he wheezed in agony, falling back down to the floor with a harsh thud that reverberated through his bones. Tears streamed down his face as he tried breathlessly to plead with Roman, but his words fell on deaf ears. 

He lost his breath again as he was yanked to his feet by his collar, choking for a moment until Roman slammed his head against the wall. A silent scream forced its way past his lips as stars exploded behind his eyes, and he felt a hot, sticky wetness run down the side of his face, coating his lips with its coppery tang. His eyes rolled up into his head.

He didn’t know how long Roman spent throwing him around the room, just that he’d been thrown against almost every item of furniture they possessed. By the time Roman finally stopped, Dee was bleeding from another spot on his head, and he was coughing blood. Roman dropped him to the floor, and Dee let out a grunt at the impact. He could hear Roman breathing heavily above him.  

“Don’t you...ever...even think about...about Virgil again...do you understand?” He panted, and Dee nodded wordlessly, unable to speak. He heard Roman give some sort of response, but whatever his husband had said was lost to him as unconsciousness finally claimed him.

[pickle-inspector]

Fictober Day 15 | original fiction | 877 words  cw: violence, blood - not graphic, but present

“That’s what I’m talking about!” Lady Dyana Brightblade shouted over the ringing of metal upon metal echoed by the small cave they were in front of. She looked over her shield to the goblin that stood before her.

She had been forced to shorten the spear he was holding, to account for his small stature. The break hadn’t been particularly clean, but it was serviceable. He looked quite comical in his overly large helmet, but there was no helping it. She didn’t have anything fitted for the smaller races, and he needed something to protect his head. Besides, the silly look made her smile. So it was probably fine.

When they again reached proper inhabited lands, they would get him full armor and a weapon suited to his size.

“I’m sorry!” he shouted. His eyes were wide with panic. “I didn’t mean to hit you so hard! Are you injured? We should stop so we can fix you up.”

She wasn’t entirely certain he could hurt her. “Nah, I’m fine. Just keep the attacks coming. If you let up on an enemy, they might kill you.”

“But you’re not an enemy!” he said brightly. His ears perked up as he gave her a snaggle-toothed grin. By Numry, he was adorable.

And completely wide open.

With a speed that didn’t quite match her incredible size, the woman swooped in. She was using the broken off portion of the spear instead of her normal sword, but it would serve its purpose. She swung low, nearly to the ground, and collided violently with the goblin’s — Veggrek, they had decided — legs. His feet quite effectively and very suddenly removed from the ground, he fell, his helmet rolling off his head and coming to rest in the dirt several feet away.

The goblin lay on the ground, staring up at the sky long enough that Dyana was concerned that perhaps she had hit him too hard. But eventually he sat up, looked around, then scrambled over to his helmet. “O-okay. I... I’m not really sure what the point of that was. Maybe I’m just— Are we enemies? I thought we— That is to say, I was hoping— I’ve misunderstood something?”

“Wh—” Dyana said, flabbergasted. “No, th— Veggrek, this is training. You beat the hell out of each other to learn how to use your weapon and to take hits.”

“You hit each other... on purpose?”

“Yes! It’s fun! And also educational, so it’s double the treat,” she added, bordering dangerously on the edge between kindly knight and snobby noblewoman.

Veggrek stared at her in some mixture of disgust and awe. In reverence he whispered, “I do not understand.”

Dyana sighed and sat cross-legged on the ground beside the baffled goblin. “You get better at stuff by doing the thing, right? We don’t really have any enemies around who are willing to go easy on you while you figure out what you’re doing, so we hit each other until you don’t need enemies to go easy on you so much anymore.”

Veggrek nodded.

“You’re still confused as hell, aren’t you.”

Veggrek nodded again.

“Eh, that’s alright. We’ll try again later. We need to get going now anyway,” she said, rubbing the top of his helmet, forgetting for a moment that it wasn’t actually part of his head.

Veggrek rotated the helmet so he could see again and watched as Dyana strode over to where she had left her packs. He looked at the spear in his hand.

Dyana yelped and dropped to one knee — onto the leg that had not just been stabbed by a somewhat confused, but very passionate goblin. She grabbed at her calf, felt the blood already dripping from the moderate slash she had received. It wasn’t too bad; more surprising than anything. She looked at Veggrek in askance.

“Did I do it right?” he asked fearfully, clutching the spear as though it would protect him from her wrath if she chose to turn it against him.

“Almost,” Dyana laughed, rotating to sit on the ground to deal with her fresh wound. “For a spar, it wasn’t great. If I was an actual enemy, that was... well, it wasn’t a good stab, but it would give me a chance to finish them off.”

“Oh.” He seemed upset. “I’ll do better next time.”

“You will!” Dyana said, grinning broadly and bringing the goblin in close to her for a hearty pat on the back that shook him so much his helmet fell off. “Because that’s what practicing does! It makes you better for the next time.”

Veggrek crouched to once again retrieve his helmet. He was still very confused, but this human seemed to be willing to work with him until he wasn’t anymore. He squatted next to the large woman and watched as she bandaged her wound. She was nice, he decided. She had helped him recover after he had been hurt, and now she was teaching him all sorts of things like combat and manners. She had even given him his name.

“Veggrek,” he breathed, trying the name out again. It felt like it belonged in his mouth, but it always sounded a little strange to his ears.

He would get used to it, he decided.

[boozergray]

let’s talk about days gone

okay so now that i’ve finished the main storyline for Days Gone (and gotten three of the bonus end scenes) i’m gonna ramble on and on about this fucking gem of a game.

i’m gonna start with the cons because there are some valid criticisms for the game just like a lot of other games. 

the game has bugs. that’s just a fact of the matter. from my personal experience, there was a time early on where i fell through just like endless white screen after falling off a truck, there were times when the visual would freeze up when driving the bike at top speed which was a little concerning, and there were times when the finer details of the graphics took a while to load up. the scene where Deacon and Boozer are talking before going to storm Wizard Island both of their tattoos were blurry for the first thirty seconds to a minute of their conversation. the game crashed twice on me today (the only time it crashed over the past two weeks) but that may have more to do with my ps4 and less with the actual game. 

now onto the pros which is probably just going to be me rambling incoherently. 

first of all, the atmosphere of the game is fucking amazing! everything from the music to the different camps you visit to the nature you ride through to the way the weather changes and affects the way the bike handles or how well you can see what you’re doing. the music is fantastic. some of the most emotional/moving scenes for me are the ones where it’s a long ride with the fantastic music (i.e. when Deacon and Boozer are riding out to Lost Lake for the first time, when Deacon is going over the mountain pass to find Sarah). 

the open world map is actually really enjoyable. okay so this is a big deal for me because my experiences with open world games has been mixed for the most part. as a gamer, the open world experience tends to get overwhelming to me to the point where i just give up and say i’ll come back to the game later. i still have RDR2, Horizon Zero Dawn, Assassin’s Creed: Odyssey all sitting on my shelf started but not even half finished. okay HZD might be halfway through but the others i’m only a small fraction into. and that’s partly because i get overwhelmed with all of the tasks and missions and everything. but with Days Gone, it was always exciting to have a new mission or challenge to take on. it’s honestly the first game i’ve honestly wanted to finish 100% with every collectible and side quest and everything. this is a H U G E deal for me.

the acting is FUCKING AMAZING! Sam Witwer and Jim Pirri do such an amazing job in the game as Deacon and Boozer and give these characters so much more depth and layers than you’d initially think they’d have. there’s such a crazy range of emotions you get to experience with them, all the anger and sadness and excitement and frustration and grief and just the full fucking spectrum of emotion. they give fucking phenomenal performances through it all. Courtnee Draper does a fantastic job as Sarah, particularly in the scene at Cloverdale when she realizes the truth about the outbreak. And Laura Bailey as Lisa (which I had no idea that was Laura Bailey ?!) is just such a crazy heartbreaking/heartwarming arc that is easily one of my favorite of the entire game and I was so happy to see her come back one last time after the credits. 

there are a lot of similarities to other games/shows and that’s not a bad thing! i think every single article i’ve seen about this game makes some comparison between it and The Last of Us or The Walking Dead or even Sons of Anarchy but that’s not a bad thing. for starters, i love all of those fandoms so for me it’s incredibly exciting. and like yeah there are similarities but that can be good. there’s crafting like TLOU but there’s crafting in like at least 75% of the games out there these days. and yes, post-apocalyptic zombies are a trend that’s played out time and time again but the Freakers of this world bring something new to the table. there’s more to them than just shuffling along or returning from the dead. one of the things i loved about TLOU was that the Clickers were different from any of the zombies i’d seen in other forms of media and the same goes for the Freakers. they’re diverse and require different strategies to face and make you think about your choices and that’s good! it gives more depth to the combat and bumps up the adrenaline for certain showdowns. 

there’s a million other things to talk about. i could easily go scene by scene about this game and talk about everything i love about this game. but that’s the basic gist of my ramblings for now. 

[holy-fate-worse-than-death]

Red has a new chapter!

Chapter 12 is here! Have a preview!

Content Warnings:

Graphic depictions of violence, canon-typical violence, swearing, blood, injuries, life-threatening injuries

***

It’s been two days since Damian woke up. Two days, and Bruce has already ditched Gotham again.

Jason’s in the grounds of Wayne Manor when it happens.

He’s perched on top of the roof of the garage, doing a handstand, with Dick by his side. They’re precariously close to the edge, and Alfred has told them off four times already for being up there. Don’t you think you’re setting a bad example for your brothers, Master Dick, Jason mimicked in his head, Must you spend all your time on the rooftops, Master Jason. But Alfred’s words hadn’t had the same bite to them that they usually had when he was ripping into them for something (not that Jason had been on the receiving end of that for many years). There’d been a softness in his eyes, a look of understanding. Jason was pretty sure he was the only one who’d caught it – that it had been intended for him, even.

He still wasn’t used to that feeling. Standing on his hands, shirtless, like some frat boy on the garage roof of his childhood home, trying to outlast his older brother in a vain and juvenile contest, he had the distinct sensation that people wanted him there. The soft look in Alfred’s eyes, Tim’s laughter as he looked up from his laptop by the pool every so often. The way even Damian had to shoot him a smirk once or twice as he goaded Dick with the best insults he could muster.

Truth was, Jason was doing it for that last part: for Damian’s sly little smirk. They spent so much time being teammates, tentative allies, or enemies, they hardly knew what having a brother was like. Tim’s words echoed in Jason’s head as he felt the blood finally starting to pulse in his ears a little, He’s not here half the time anymore!

Jason was just beginning to contemplate packing it in and climbing down. He was thinking that maybe he’d feign exhaustion, flop to the ground and place a hand over his forehead. You’ve bested me, oh great Nightwing! he’d say, and he’d get another contented little laugh out of Tim, and Nightwing would somersault off the roof effortlessly, landing a gentle kick in Jason’s ribs before helping him up. With any luck, his older counterpart might even be smiling.

They’d hardly spoken a word since that night in the Cave – when he’d promised Dick he’d stay – but Jason was pretty sure Dick knew what game he was playing at. As if on cue, Dick cocked his head slightly, sparing a glance towards the pool and indicating that Jason do the same. Jason followed his brother’s gaze, their hands almost grazing where they were braced on the tiled roof. And sure enough, Dick’s eyes were on Damian. The kid was smiling again, shirtless and soaking up the sun, though his torso was still bandaged. His cat (another Alfred) was curled on his lap, enjoying the soft heat of the day as well.

“You’re doing good here,” Dick said pensively, letting out what might have been a sigh.

The acrobat readjusted his stance then, and now his hand brushed Jason’s. Were they in some stupid teen movie, Jason might have thought it was accidental; a little static shock brought between them by happenstance. But Jason knew Dick was the most precise and coordinated man in the city – maybe even the world. Somehow that made it better, knowing that Dick had meant to touch him like that.

“His mom would be pissed if I wasn’t,” Jason admitted sheepishly, turning his head fully away from Dick’s now so that he could only see Damian and Tim.

That’s when they saw it. The familiar green glow of energy from a Green Lantern’s ring, rising up from the tree-line at the edge of the Manor’s lawns like a great bubble. From Jason and Dick’s vantage point they could just make out a few other figures within the emerald orb, one of which took on the uncanny silhouette of a bat.

Jason and Dick immediately turned to look at each other. Dick’s pupils were blown a little wider than usual, and his face was flushed from standing upside-down for so long. It reminded Jason a little of the kiss they’d shared that night when they’d thought Damian was going to die, and he chastised himself for even thinking about that. Right now, Dick’s mouth was nothing but a thin line of concern.

They shared a synchronised nod and then they were both somersaulting off the roof gracefully, neither of them making a sound as their bare feet connected with the sealed concrete of the Manor’s rear driveway.

Dick locked eyes with Tim almost immediately, who was already shoving his commlink in his ear and typing furiously on his laptop.

Alfred was behind them in an instant, saying something like, “Master Bruce would like you all to know he’ll be out on League business for a few days.”

Jason didn’t really hear him though, the buzzing in his head drowning out the butler’s words as he sought out Damian’s gaze. The boy had been petting the cat in his lap, but now his hand had stilled; the only indication that something might be bothering him.

After an acceptable period, Damian gently scooped up the cat from his lap and deposited it on his shoulders. He stood carefully, but even so, he winced a little. Before Jason could think he was crossing the lawn to the pool area, padding over the warm, smooth tiles in his tracksuit pants.

Then he was helping Damian up, even as the boy protested with an acid tongue.

“I’m not an invalid, Hood,” Damian hissed, shoving Jason away.

Jason bit down the bile he felt at the use of that name when he wasn’t wearing the helmet or armour. He thought about how he’d called Dick Nightwing two nights ago though, and promptly decided that, all things considered, he probably deserved whatever low-blows were about to come his way.

Damian had stretched his ribs too far when he’d shoved Jason, and now he fell back down on the sun bed he’d been sitting on and winced.

“You’ll be healed within the week,” Jason assured him, his tone colder than he’d meant it.

Jason was still god-awful at talking about the Lazarus Pit and all of the effects it had had on himself – let alone on his younger brother – and he was sure Damian could hear it in his voice.

But if his youngest counterpart noticed, he didn’t say anything. Instead, he took to staring at Jason’s feet like they were the most interesting things he’d ever seen. Jason wondered if the kid was thinking to himself, Seriously, how did he manage to get a bullet wound in his foot?

“Damian,” Jason tried again when the boy made no other attempt to move or respond to him.

Jason could feel eyes on him – Dick’s and Tim’s – and it made him unsure of himself. He found himself crouching down until he and Damian were the same height, and he carefully leaned back onto his haunches so that he wasn’t crowding the kid.

“Look,” he said, dropping his voice so that the other birds couldn’t hear him, “You just have to let your body do its thing, okay, kid?”

Damian didn’t say anything, but eventually he nodded. Jason just sat there for a while, as Tim caught Dick up on the Justice League case that Bruce was working. Something off-world, apparently, and Dick seemed pretty convinced that Alfred’s estimate of a few days had been on the low side. Jason knew Damian could hear all of this too, and that he knew what that meant.

After a while, Damian spoke. His voice held a familiar quietness, the kind that the League of Assassins drilled into you. It wasn’t a whisper, it was decibels lower than that. To the untrained ear it would have sounded like Damian had just exhaled a particularly long breath.

“Red Robin can’t go out on his own tonight,” the boy said, his words for Jason and Jason alone.

Behind the boy’s black-haired head, stretched out on a sun bed, Dick was already talking about the case he’d be working in Blüdhaven tonight. Under different circumstances Jason might have been mad at his older counterpart, but how could he be? Dick’s perfectly chiselled abs were on full display, the only thing covering his body a pair of tiny cotton pool shorts. They were pink, which Jason had heckled him about earlier. Dick had dipped his mouth towards Jason’s ear and whispered you sure you don’t like them? and Jason had felt his whole face go red. Dick had made a tiny huff of pleasure before traipsing away.

“Well,” Jason said, smiling now and standing upright.

He held his hands out for Damian, who took them carefully and allowed Jason to steady him as he eased himself to his feet. Alfred the cat was still draped lazily around his neck, and Jason reached out to give the creature an idle pet. That seemed to earn some brownie-points with Damian. Encouraged, Jason continued, a little twinkle in his eye:

“It’s a good thing the Red Hood’s in town then, isn’t it?”

**

Red Hood and Red Robin fit together like pieces of a puzzle. Their combat manoeuvres were perfectly synchronised even with only one fight under their collective belts. Jason felt like he could do anything beside Tim, and the electricity in the air told him that his younger counterpart felt the same.

Hell, I haven’t even called him ‘replacement’ once tonight, Jason thought to himself as he crouched on the gargoyle of a building in Park Row. It was his old haunt – his oldest – and Tim hadn’t protested when he suggested they start their patrol there. Jason figured Tim knew he was from here; Tim knew everything. According to Dick, his stalking of the Bat-clan had begun even before Jason’s untimely demise.

Tim couldn’t have been older than Damian then, and Jason thought briefly of his own youth. In his mind’s eye he saw himself on his knees just a block north of here, the hood of his jumper pulled up over his head as he frantically unscrewed one of the Batmobile’s hubcaps. He still remembered the rush in his belly when Bruce had caught him, those hideous fangs Bruce called teeth curling upward into what should have been a blood-curdling smile.

Jason wondered if Tim had felt the same way, taking his little pictures of the three of them – Batman, Robin and Nightwing. He figured the kid probably did, because once you got a taste you couldn’t go back – not really.

Click, click, click.

Tim’s spy-sized bat-camera clicked a few times and then he was adjusting the lens with a green-gloved hand, zooming in.

Tim sat on the gargoyle next to him, his long black cape draped around it and encircling them both so that he was nothing but a shadow on Gotham’s murky horizon. The smog dimmed the moon tonight, as it always did, but it suited them both that way – suited their work.

They were doing their due diligence, as Tim had put it, by standing vigil in the very heart of Park Row for another fourteen minutes exactly. Tim liked schedules and had spent the ride here recalculating his to suit Jason’s preferred route.

“We’ll take Park Row first,” Jason had said, because that’s where it always felt right to start patrols.

If he was being honest with himself, it made him feel closer to Batman. Not to Bruce, but to the heart of who Batman really was. Jason had slowed the car down as they drove past that fateful spot, and Tim had asked him why. There had been a true innocence in his voice, so Jason had said, “thought I saw something” and kept driving.

“Still can’t believe we’re taking the Batmobile,” he’d muttered after that, shaking his head even as his hands gripped the car’s tactical steering column.

Jason was pretty sure he still remembered what all the buttons did, but he’d probably double-check with Tim before he touched anything anyway. The kid had been using the car’s onboard computer system but now he looked up, furrowing his brow.

“Two sweeps of Park Row?” he’d inquired.

“Yep,” Jason had replied, “One at the start of the shift and one at the end.”

Tim had paused for a moment, chewing on his lower lip. Then he’d just murmured, “God knows the place needs it.”

Now Tim was rattling off the rest of their itinerary, “… Midtown via the hospital and the university, then into the Diamond District through The Narrows, followed by a quick loop around Toxic Acres and- are you sure you want to go right through the main street of Chinatown?”

“Mm-hm,” Jason hummed.

When Tim didn’t look convinced he nodded down at the alley below, their gazes both falling on the now-parked batmobile.

“In that car?” he said shortly.

“Draws a lot of attention,” Tim murmured.

To which Jason countered, “It also scares most of the petty crims away.”

Tim didn’t argue with him after that and finished listing all the places they’d hit. When he finally wrapped up he said, “It’s better when we can delegate and give everyone their own beat.”

“Beat,” Jason laughed, hopping nimbly off his gargoyle to stretch his legs before they went numb. “You sound like a cop.”

He snorted when Tim turned to level a glare at him.

“Or Dick Grayson,” Tim said hotly, his voice lowering a little as though he were scared someone would hear him.

Jason tossed the kid’s conclusion around in his head for a moment. It was true, Nightwing was the vigilante who most resembled a cop out of all of them, and that was the part he played in his daily life. But Jason wasn’t so sure that was true of Dick Grayson, not deep down, and Jason knew from experience that no Robin was a cop.

“Maybe he’ll arrest daddy for all the breakin’ and enterin’ he does,” Jason finally quipped back as he bent down to touch his toes.

He was in the middle of readjusting his domino mask – which still felt a little alien on his face, especially with the shit that passed for adhesive these days. Tim had explained that it was resistant to most commercial and industrial solvents and was only compatible with the kind kept in the Batcave and at the various League headquarters around the country. It meant that no villain with a little chemistry know-how could compromise their secret identities, but the stuff smelled like a tyre fire.

“Shit,” Tim said emphatically, and Jason was immediately on his feet.

He crossed the roof and stood just behind Tim’s perch on the gargoyle. Tim was looking through his bat-noculars and frantically trying to chase something a few blocks in the distance.

“What?” Jason barked, and Tim shot him a frankly terrified look before handing the binoculars over.

It took Jason a moment of frantic searching to find Tim’s target down the street. When he did, he found himself unexpectedly smiling.

“Look,” Jason began, eyeing the tension in his younger counterpart’s shoulders and jaw.

Jason felt his brow furrowing in confusion as he noticed how Tim was white-knuckling the gargoyle beneath him, how his legs trembled just slightly from how tight he was clenching his whole body.

“I know you got a history with KC,” he continued, “But Waylon’s not the monster you think he is.”

“No,” Tim hissed, snatching the bat-noculars back from Jason’s hands, “You idiot, didn’t you see what he was carrying?”

Jason hadn’t seen Croc carrying anything. In the brief moment he’d seen Croc, he’d been poking his head out the door of an abandoned building, like he was concerned about being followed. Jason supposed that it was their city, so they should go and at least ask the big guy what was happening, but the panic in Tim’s voice seemed unfounded.

Tim took Jason’s silence as a ‘no’ and blurted, “He was carrying R- Arsenal. Unconscious.”

Jason’s eyes widened, but even as concern for his friend coiled itself deep in his gut he stared at Tim’s hands, the way they were shaking around the bat-noculars. He hadn’t known that Red Robin and Arsenal had met, let alone were on a first name basis. Something in Tim’s shattered expression caused Jason to push his questions away though, and in a heartbeat, he was springing into action, already about to leap off the roof and down into the alley were the batmobile was lying out of sight.

“Go!” he shouted at Tim, hoping the frantic scurry across the rooftops to Roy’s position would focus the boy somewhat. “I’ll bring the car around.”

The tyres of the batmobile came to a screeching halt in front of the boarded-up apartment building not a minute later. Tim hit the ground in front of the car at a run, staff already out, and Jason was barely a second behind, leaping out of the batmobile’s rooftop hatch and scarcely remembering to lock the thing behind him.

He was out without a gun again tonight, but Damian had quietly tucked his sword – Talia’s sword – into the backseat of the batmobile. Jason had seen him do it, of course, and they’d shared barely a second of eye contact before Damian was disappearing into the shadows of the Cave and making his way back to his bed upstairs. In that brief moment, Jason had looked stern, he knew – which was no doubt why Damian had made a beeline back to his bed – but he hadn’t been able to help it. On the one hand, he wanted to tell Damian that the blade was too long, too gaudy, and completely impractical for the kind of close-quarters combat that Gotham vigilantes were so often faced with. But on the other, Jason was being bestowed with a family heirloom; a trusted and irreplaceable possession from the woman who had trained them both.

Jason grabbed the sword from the backseat as he leapt out of the car and pounded up the stairs of the duplex after Tim.

By the time he was inside he had it slung snugly across his back, and the loud “FUCK!” he heard echo through the gutted building made him draw it from its sheath.

It was Roy’s voice – that distinct Star City accent he’d picked up in his many years there as Speedy clear as day – and Jason felt panic rise up into his throat like the green bubble that had carried Batman away earlier that afternoon.

He approached with Damian’s sword clasped firmly in both hands, holding it in a proper stance that he knew Roy would make fun of him for if he had all of his senses.

Another scream told Jason he didn’t, and he heard a heated exchange between Roy and Tim.

“Don’t you fucking touch it, Red,” Roy hissed, then groaned in pain again.

Jason rounded a pile of debris – an old TV, a couch that was so old it was practically decomposing, and a stack of chairs piled to the sky. When he got around it, the pair finally came into view.

“You have to let me take it out, Roy,” Tim was saying flatly, his voice conveying none of the panic Jason had seen in him on the rooftop a minute ago.

Roy was stretched out on an old kitchen countertop, the only thing left standing in the entire apartment by the looks of it. His hat was missing, and his orange hair was slicked to his forehead with sweat. His eyes were open; wild and manic, and his whole body was bucking off the table in pain.

In his abdomen, the lone, red spine of one of his own arrows stuck out of his flesh.

Jason had sheathed his sword and swept across the room in an instant, and then his hand was on Roy’s forehead, sweeping his hair out of his eyes.

“T-thanks, Jaybird,” the archer replied weakly, his eyes fluttering shut.

The fact that he didn’t even have the wits to be surprised that Jason was working with Red Robin in Gotham was terrifying, but what was worse was how much blood had already pooled on the counter below him.

“You need a hospital!” Tim exclaimed shrilly, bandages and gauze appearing from nowhere in the kid’s hands as he applied pressure around the arrow.

Roy howled in pain and Jason silently wished he had a gun strapped to his leg to grip onto, or to put the handle of it in Roy’s mouth so he had something to bite down on.

So, he took his combat knife off his belt and tried to put the thing between Roy’s teeth, a weapon that had been between both their teeth numerous times before when anaesthesia wasn’t an option.

But Roy wrenched his head away, arching away from Jason until he was curled up on his side, facing Tim.

“They’re still coming for us,” the archer managed to grit out.

Jason saw his eyes close and his breathing grow more laboured, like it always did right before he threw up. Instinctively, Jason rounded the table and put his hands on Red Robin’s shoulders, gently peeling the boy away just in time to avoid getting puke on his shoe. Roy looked up at him with what might have been gratitude, and Jason snatched a piece of clean gauze from Tim’s hands to wipe at Roy’s mouth.

“Who’s still coming for you?” Jason asked as he folded the gauze over and patted it against Roy’s forehead.

Jason could hear Tim behind him, the boy’s breath whistling hard and fast through his nose. There was a history here. Jason didn’t know what, but he knew that he was the only poor sucker in the room who was used to seeing the people he loved on their deathbeds. Tim, on the other hand, was losing it.

“Some guns Waller hired to track down KC after he escaped,” Roy managed to say.

Then the idiot tried to sit up and Jason and Tim both had to wrestle him back down onto the bench.

“He needs to go to the Cave,” Tim said meekly, the shrillness from earlier still tweaking his voice an octave or so higher.

“Not until it’s done,” Roy growled, anger streaking across his face like a great jolt of pain (which was probably what caused his sudden outburst).

“But what if you die,” Tim was saying, his voice barely more than a gasp, and then Roy was looking at Jason pleadingly, with the ghost of something else between his eyes that Jason would have to piece together later.

“Where’s Croc?” he asked instead, cocking his head over his shoulder at Tim.

Suddenly Jason felt bad about being between the two men, so he extricated himself and shunted Tim closer with a hand on his counterpart’s flank. Tim took up the position easily, one of his hands reaching for Roy’s face and then withdrawing it immediately. Roy shot a look at Jason that said don’t do this now, but Jason knew that Tim’s hesitation hadn’t been because of Jason’s prying eyes; Tim’s hands were covered in blood, and he didn’t want to smear it all over Roy’s already bloodied body.

“Checking the perimeter,” Roy finally answered.

Jason was turning on his heel and stalking out of the room before anyone could say another word. He turned so sharply he thought that if he wore a cape it would have snapped in the air. He felt like Batman, especially when he called orders to Tim back over his shoulder, “Get him behind that bench and keep him alive,” he was saying, then shouting as he took off at a sprint down what remained of the apartment building’s hallway, “And stay in radio contact!”

The ensuing firefight was hellish. Never in his life had Jason enjoyed a fight less. Croc fought valiantly beside him, tanking bullets like they were raindrops, while Jason dodged out of the way with the grappling gun he’d taken out of storage at the Cave. If he wasn’t going to be shooting anybody, he needed an extra element of surprise.

He dropped down on the men one-by-one, like Batman… if Batman carried a sword. He knocked them unconscious, mostly, smashing the hilt of Damian’s sword into a lot of brainstems and slicing a lot of ankles. When he broke the first guy’s jaw with a well-placed punch and his machine gun clamoured to the ground, Jason had to grind his teeth together to keep himself from picking it up.

He thought of Roy in the next room, bleeding out and probably dead, and then he thought of Tim. Tiny Tim, the one who’d cried into his chest for hours that night in the Cave. Tim who was so opposed to death and who had such a righteousness in his heart that he’d chosen to be Robin in a way that no one else ever had. He imagined Tim cradling Roy in his arms as he died, and Jason tossed the machine gun down the jaws of a mouth made of jagged floorboards that opened up into the basement.

He slammed his boot into the throat of the next one, knocking him clean out. He sliced at the arms of some of the others, brought the tip of Damian’s sword up to the neck of one in particular who had spat an insult at him. He was so close to doing it that his hands shook, but then Croc was smashing an end table over the guy’s head and that was the last of them.

Jason’s suit was nicked with cuts and scrapes and he could feel bruises forming everywhere on his chest. He could barely breathe, sucking in air like he was drowning, and Croc swayed on his feet. But Jason couldn’t rest – didn’t dare.

Instead, he was sprinting along the length of the apartment block, leaping over piles of debris and bodies without a second thought – he figured the cops would be here soon anyway. Croc was hot on his heels, and Jason came to a screeching halt halfway to the apartment where he’d left Roy and Tim.

He turned to Croc and barked, “Go find someplace to lay low, I’ll know how to contact you when I know something.”

Croc was looking at him with the eyes of a predator, adrenaline (or whatever crocodile men had) no doubt still pumping through his veins. His fists clenched and then relaxed, and Jason took that as agreement.

But he stepped towards the prehistoric man anyway, lowering his voice and holding Croc’s gaze firmly.

“I will not let him die,” Jason promised, even as he imagined Roy dead as he spoke those words.

It’s what Batman would say – what Robin would say – he realised, and he silently cursed the ghost he could never quite escape.

But that ghost seemed to comfort Croc somehow, and then they were peeling their eyes off each other and running in separate directions down the hall.

When Jason reached Roy and Tim’s room, Tim was already hauling an unconscious and pale Roy to his feet.

“Think I stopped the bleeding,” the kid muttered, his suit covered in blood from his collar to his boots.

Tim grunted as he slung one of Roy’s arms around his shoulders and Jason was struck by how small Tim was – how young. Roy wasn’t even six foot and Tim could still barely lift him, and the archer was on the light side as far as superheroes went.

“Here, let me,” Jason offered, reaching out his arms and getting ready to carry Roy bridal-style – not for the first time in their long and gory history.

“No!” Tim growled, the strength in his voice surprising Jason.

With another strained grunt, Tim somehow managed to haul the older ex-sidekick into his arms. He looked possessive and he was fuming. Jason wondered if it was because he’d missed out on the fight, missed out on getting a chance to crack the skulls of the people who’d done this to Roy – who Tim apparently cared so much about.

Jason took point on their way out the front door, not even bothering to draw his sword so that he could unlock the batmobile faster. He could hear sirens in the distance now, drawing nearer, and he urged Tim onwards with a short, “Quick.”

“I know,” Tim grumbled, allowing Jason to help him hoist Roy’s limp body into the back of the batmobile.

“Get in the back and keep an eye on him,” Jason was saying as he leapt into the front seat and took the steering column in his hands.

Tim seemed grateful for the direction and his eyes started to come back into focus somewhat then. He kept one finger on Roy’s pulse and lifted the other up to his radio, where he hailed Alfred on the comms and warned him to be prepared for triage.

Jason was glad they were still so close to home, and was thinking about saying, see, this is why you visit Crime Alley twice, when Roy began to stir.

Jason put his foot to the ground then, which caused the batmobile to blast past everything in its way. The other cars on the road were a blur, the buildings were a blur, and if Jason hadn’t known this route so well that it was muscle memory, he might have taken a wrong turn.

Roy was murmuring something, and Jason strained his ears to hear it.

“Kori…” he managed to say, his breath ragged and catching on fluid in his throat. Probably blood, Jason thought grimly. “Went back to Tamaran,” the archer finished, and Jason felt his stomach sink on his friend’s behalf.

For a moment, stuck in the cramped batmobile with Red Robin between himself and Roy, Jason felt like he and his best friend were the only two people in the world. He thought about their crashed ship, and their little tropical island, and wished that Roy had been allowed to die there in the sun.

“I’m sorry,” Jason breathed after he wrenched the steering column again.

It was the second last turn he’d have to make, the last one being onto the side road that led to the Batcave. Now they had about two minutes to sit and pray as they crossed the bridge out of Uptown and towards the mainland where the Manor stood alone in its fields.

Some air escaped Roy’s lungs that Jason thought might have been the poor guy trying to laugh, and when he spoke next, he had a smile in his voice.

“Don’t be, Jaybird,” he breathed, and Jason heard a shifting sound as Roy and Tim rearranged their limbs on the backseat.

Jason caught a glance of what they were doing in the rear-view mirror and his heart shattered right there. Not two days ago Jason had seen Tim hold Damian’s hand the same way, and now the seventeen-year-old was being put through it all over again. Only this time… Well, as Roy put it:

“Be sorry if this one ever leaves me.”

And then Roy was smiling, and his eyes were closing, and Jason was easing up on the accelerator to make it safely past the Cave’s waterfall. Jason and Tim both held their breaths as the car dove through the curtain of water, like if they didn’t they’d drown in it.

Drown in blood’s more like it, Jason thought darkly as he slammed on the brakes and opened the roof in the same movement.

Tim rocketed out of the car in an instant, already barking a description of Roy’s injuries and relevant medical info at Alfred, who was already clad in gloves and a surgical mask.

Jason made short work of hauling Roy out of the car. He sprinted down the hall to the med-bay and was assaulted by a not-so-distant memory of carrying Damian down here the same way only a few nights ago.

Jason felt panic rise in his chest, and thoughts that he’d been trying so hard to keep hidden started to rise to the surface. This job is too dangerous, the weak voice that had reared its ugly head after his resurrection said. I won’t be here to watch them die.

Jason put Roy in a different room to the one that had held Damian, just to make it feel like this was somehow different than that night had been. Sure, Damian hadn’t died, but Jason knew deep down that the Lazarus Pit had determined that; not his own fortitude or some cosmic luck. And Roy didn’t have any powers, not even the Lazarus Pit to give him a boost.

Jason didn’t realise he was crying – might not have been – until he was shouting at Tim. He’d meant to bark out an order the way Bruce would have, but he just wasn’t that fucking strong.

“Go clean that blood off you,” he snarled, ignoring the way Tim’s own eyes were brimming with tears, “and bring me everything you’ve got on Amanda Waller.”

***

Read the whole fic here!

[a-shrieking-cloud-of-bats]

okay so long breakdown of my experience with Morrowind as a starter I first tried to play the game last year, fumbled it, repeated that a few times, before dropping it for a while and eventually coming back to it the past few days and running through it! Ran a Nord, Heavy Armor, Warrior, used almost no non scroll magic, notably used them to deal with locks, used divine intervention once during that one Baar Dau bit in the main story, probably a handful of other scroll usages for random junk. I also didn’t do the expacs and I haven’t played Oblivion in a while so I’m trying to avoid in depth comparisons to it. I’ll start off by saying I did enjoy it overall, and while I don’t think it stole my Favorite TES Award,  it definitely left a mark, and I think my favorite bit of it was the main quest, the tone was just something I liked more then the other two TES games and all in all the whole mysterious diseases angle felt a bit more urgent then more nebulous threats like demons and dragons. Additionally, the plot conceptually I think is just a lot more fun to think about rather then “x is attacking!”, and I think the things like ash creature ambushes and ominous dreams helped that feeling a lot. All in all I feel it was a bit better handled to boot, and I particularly liked the whole “your cover story for being in the blades is that you’re an adventurer because they’re all over the place, you’d blend in, and you’re gonna need to be fighting anyway so you might as well develop that skillset”, since it allowed for explicit breaks in the main quest line where he’d tell you to go do other stuff for a while and “keep your cover story up to date” while he did research or whatever. Added to the settling, added to the plot, added a reason to go faff around in a dungeon and maybe find something cool. Maybe. We’ll get to that.

But the cover story thing is super appreciated because it’s an issue I frequently ran into in other games where it just never really felt like you had a stopping point in the main quest line, if you were playing as if you were legitimately concerned with the status of the main quest. Like, with Skyrim you start out. . . -escape from Helgen -go down to Riverwood with whoever -they tell you Riverwood’s in potential danger so you go up and talk to the jarl -he tells you to help with his investigations of the dragons (if you’re playing a bit more apathetic of a character this could potentially be a time to step out but let’s assume a sort’ve “lawful good” here) - you go down to bleak falls barrow, come back - a dragon attacks the tower, you go investigate and fight it - End Scene; and even then I think it wouldn’t be a stretch to feel like you had to answer the summons, and that goes through a very long road trip, a dungeon, and a dragon fight before you get to a solid “I need to do things, go outside and play” style stopping point. and after all that you’re like.... an hour or two into the game? It’s not absurd but it’s quite a bit compared to silt stridering over to Balmora and getting told to go have fun, and it’s not a game breaking thing, obviously the player doesn’t absolutely have to be told to stop doing main quest stuff, but it was a nice touch that I liked. At any rate I liked the main quest, but I think the thing I was most impressed with was the travel. I went into Morrowind thinking I was going to hate wandering around 24/7 and paying fees and so on and so forth but actually it felt pretty great after a while! I came out of Morrowind preferring the “carriage” system rather then the fast travel system, just because getting more mobility options and strength in that category was interesting to me. Given that I was playing the least mobile “class” in the game; heavy armor weighs a lot which slows your ground speed (I think) and weakens your jumping, with no magic and no knowledge of how to get propylon indices working, I think that’s pretty glowing praise. I also liked the way enchanted gear worked in Morrowind, where there are usable artifacts and passive artifacts, passive artifacts just give you the boost, and usable artifacts are purposely triggered to get an effect and slowly recharge over time, which is a game changer. I know I don’t really use enchanted weapons in Skyrim because it’s not that big a boost and juggling soul gems and soul traps is a pain in the butt, but if they recharged over time I might be more inclined. Again, a nice little thing the game does differently. The graphics were wildly better then I expected, and I think the game is an excellent example of restrictions creating a unique and good looking style in some cases. The polygonal models really add a lot to the fairly eerie main quest backdrop and pretty hostile game world overall, and ultimately the game just sort’ve creates its’ own aesthetic and it’s super good despite being very obviously dated. The entire inside the ghost fence part of the end game was spooky as hell and felt very climactic despite the landscape looking like something that came out of 3D Studio Max circa 1990. And on a side note, Diyavath Fir’s tower and the Corprusarium were a really cool dungeon concept and I’m very surprised the whole “sequential treasure chests with keys in them that eventually lead to a prize” thing hasn’t been done again since IIRC. With all the praise out of the way, let’s get to stuff I was more neutral on or outright disliked (there’s surprisingly little of the latter, by the way). To start off, I felt gear progression felt super weird. I started out by buying a full set of steel armor and an iron long sword and I didn’t get an upgrade until like, halfway through my playtime, so like, two days total, and my long sword went un-upgraded even longer. After a while I found a silver long sword and about an hour after that I found a daedric katana and suddenly the game was basically over past that point because I was 2 shotting everything that wasn’t a higher end ash creature or daedra. It felt very spotty, it wasn’t a game changer or anything, and to be fair once the armor upgrades started going, that progression didn’t feel too bad either (though my shield did get upgraded from steel to daedric). Not a huge deal, but it was a thing. The end game quest line where you’re re-uniting the tribes and houses is a huge chore and also holds the only two escort missions in the game which I don’t think is a co-incidence. I liked the house quests more initially since they were more tightly packed in and had fast travel options around. . . buuuut they quickly became a gold count check. Having to get confirmation from councilors that, by their own mention, wouldn’t be necessary, was also obnoxious, though I didn’t mind that as much, as the whole declaring a war leader thing is a big deal and I can believe that from a plot standpoint. Still didn’t like it. I am aware I could’ve skipped all this with reputation, and that’s fair, but I still think as a quest line it’s a bit much; though I dunno how I’d fix it without banging up the plot significantly, to be fair. All the side quests I did were pretty bland. Lotta “go here, clear this dungeon, come back get x gold”, some “go here, fetch y guy, bring him back, get z gold”. Sometimes you didn’t even get rewarded, though the reputation system makes up for that. I ended up stopping about halfway into House Redoran because the quests were, by and large, just dungeon clear quests and I was vastly more interested in the main quest. It’s something I might take more interest in on a second play through. You can end up trivializing combat very quickly, which was probably a part of why I didn’t end up liking the end game so much. Part of that’s my fault; athletics and acrobatics were minor skills, it basically put me on a timer, and some people like the “I’m level 20 and I can crush anything in the game like a walnut” thing, which is fair. I did end up finishing it at about level 23, and I’ve heard scaling stops at 20, so that’s about right to be fair. Though I’ve also heard Dagoth Ur scales up to 35? It sure didn’t feel like it, and overall it kind’ve made the whole lead up into Dagoth’s big moment a bit of an anticlimax, I hit him like six times for the fight and I got most of the heart fiddling done before he brought me to half. A big part of why I even almost died was because I didn’t realize I had to run back over the bridge. Though that all might be a side effect of running a heavy armor warrior, IIRC they’re pretty easy, but I also did surprisingly little side stuff. It just sorta feels like if you do anything other then the main quest you’ll trivialize the final stages of it, and if you do the main quest you trivialize the extra stuff? It’s a bit of an odd problem to solve and it seems like they’ve still not gotten it quite right, to be fair. I’m trying to think of stuff I outright hated and really all I can think of is the fact that NPCs stand in “one NPC wide” hallways and doorways like it’s their job. A not insignificant part of why I gave up on Redoran is because getting through under-skar was hell because of all the guards just shuffling around on rope bridges and staring at me anytime I got anywhere near them while they clogged up the road. But yeah, overall had a good time and I probably played the least complex character type, so that’s definitely a good sign. I look forward to playing it again and playing with magic more; already thinking on an acrobat like, athletics/acrobatics/whatever magic school does jump/move speed boosts character and getting a bit more into the setting with it, eventually. I definitely get why people love the game so much and while I don’t think I hooked into it quite as hard I admit I haven’t played something quite like it before, between the aesthetics and mechanics either, and admittedly most of my complaints were half complaints, so that’s definitely not a bad track record. Will definitely play again at some point.

[lordgeebsdom]

Sekiro: If Shadows die one more time, I’ll need a new controller.  A review and essay by Gareth Bill

On March 22, 2019, From Software released their latest signature Action-RPG Souls-Bourne game: Sekiro: Shadows Die Twice which I picked up on Xbox One X, and is also available on PS4 and PC.  Notoriously difficult, these games have distinguished themselves in the industry as the template for hard, but fair challenges that can only be overcome by mastery and skill.  Sekiro puts its twist on the aforementioned formula through the added ninja style gameplay (more on that later) and new character mobility, and the titular hook of being able to twice, or three times, or personally more like 287 times....and counting.

I have completed all of the Souls games with the platinum trophy (100% game completion) on Bloodborne; additionally I have completed Nioh, Cuphead and several other notoriously difficult games.  This is why I can say with absolute certainty, this is one of the hardest video games I’ve ever played and (thankfully) managed to beat.  At the time of this writing, less than 2% of players have completed the Xbox One Version (no doubt due to that ludicrously over powered, 4 health bar final encounter that I wont spoil here).  An unexpected ailment kept me out of the office for a week so we dove into this new classic while dealing with it.  For those concerned: yes, I am better now.

The newfound difficulty this time around comes through a number of means,  Specifically: an evolutionary shift of the combat system by eliminating the stamina bar, and allowing players to jump/parkour with new layers of verticality.  From Software also adds a Batman Arkham-style grapple hook and expands Sekiro with opportunities and areas full of exciting collectibles and upgrades to find.  The player can also now thin the heard of enemies through new stealth ninja-style executions from above and behind before engaging.  This in particular is very important to avoid being outnumbered and quickly killed by the potent enemy AI.

Personally, the idea of this freedom was instantly bittersweet; as a veteran of titles from this developer, I knew they wouldn’t have provided me with such freedom without indeed expecting me to master it for their trademark insane boss battles.  

Speaking of, the aforementioned set piece encounters are insane and range from massive demonic animals, to hulking Sengoku era soldiers and climax in one of the toughest final bosses I’ve seen in any video game.  These fearsome looking, often monstrous and grotesque adversaries will consistently test skilled players, and can only be overcome through true mastery of the deflection technique and posture bar.  This is mechanic replaces the stamina bar and if it gets too high, the posture of that character will be broken, leaving them or your character open for a killing blow.  In the spirit of being hard but fair, each boss does telegraph their moves to some degree and all have the same limitations of posture as the player; but these animations are very small, and the punishment is almost always a swift death.

Only through mastering the deflection technique and by truly embracing “the way of the ninja” will players triumph over the many challenges that wait for them in Sekiro.  For fans of From Software games, you’ve probably already picked this gem up and know exactly what I’m talking about; now for the new players or people unaccustomed: I wouldn’t exactly recommend without first watching a stream or some gameplay on YouTube.  The very sharp and unforgiving nature of the difficulty, especially early, will inevitably turn some people off.  

Everything must be earned in Sekiro, and ultimately that sense of satisfaction that comes after triumphing over a particularly troublesome boss or mini-boss is why I personally believe this game should come with an addiction warning.  Maybe you’ll stand up and flex, or perhaps you’ll scream out a war-cry, but you will receive an adrenaline rush that’ll leave your hands shaking and pulse pounding.  An unrivaled sense of accomplishment among video games has always been taking down big and scary monsters in these games and Sekiro has the goods!

It is worth noting that I did experience some noticeable FPS drop at a few points that seemed particularly graphically demanding on Xbox One X.  I wanna be clear, the game held up at a steady 30 fps though during all fights where timing is key, so this shouldn't concern prospective players.  Digital foundry has done a full graphics comparison on all versions that is freely available on Youtube for those curious about their particular console or even the PC version.

My Score: 90/100

Reviewed on Xbox One X, Also available on PS4 and PC. 

-Gareth

TL:DR:   This is a very fun but difficult game that will not be for everyone.  If you are willing to learn the more complicated mechanics in the game and put in the time necessary to master them and the new bosses, a very rewarding and rich experience awaits you.  If you prefer easier games with a more relaxed feel that don’t ask much of you: steer clear.  I’ve completed it though and already started my run on NG+, don’t see myself getting tired of this one anytime soon.

[operationrainfall]

Title Dragon Marked for Death Developer INTI CREATES CO., LTD. Publisher INTI CREATES CO., LTD. Release Date January 31st, 2019 Genre Action RPG Platform Switch Age Rating T for Teen Official Website

Editor’s Note: For simplicity, the italicized sections represent Marisa’s impressions, while the regular ones represent Steve’s.

I recently spent some time with the latest offering from Inti Creates, Dragon Marked for Death. I went into this one expecting your standard Action RPG with some different classes and some ho hum missions. What we got was way beyond what I expected. You will hear from both myself and my partner in crime for this review, Marisa. We’ll answer the most important question of all, was this game fun?

In this game you take control of a member of the Dragonblood Clan. This was a group of humans that were caught up in the war between the Celestials and the Astral Dragons. They were saved by the blood of a dying dragon named Atruum. Why he decided to give them his blood is not known, but anyone born into the clan from this day forward would bear the Dragon Scar on their body and worship Atruum. In present day, your clan has sworn revenge on the Medius Empire for destroying your home, but first you will have to prove your place in this world as the clan isn’t seen in the best light.

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  When purchasing the game, you have a couple of different options. You can take the fighter pack which contains the Empress and Warrior, or play more strategically with the Shinobi and Witch. These packs cost $14.99 each and you can purchase both if you want to have access to all four different classes. I played with the Warrior mostly, but I did check out the Empress as well. They are very similar, but the Empress seems to be a bit faster than the Warrior. She also seems to do a little less damage, but that could’ve been because the weapon I had equipped wasn’t as good as his currently equipped axe.

In terms of raw gameplay, the game does a decent job in tailoring a smooth and quick experience. Combat moves typically don’t have huge amounts of delay and it’s simple enough to access the menu and use equipped items. Characters themselves are also easy enough to understand that with practice, using their abilities is basically second-nature. Even the Witch, which relies on incantations based on repeated button inputs, is not complicated to play as. Speaking of characters, there are four different characters, two designated as Frontline attackers and two as Advanced attackers. Each has a specific playstyle, ranging from brute force to utility. This means that a party of four has tailored roles to support the group.

After the tutorial mission you will find yourself in town. Here you can visit shops, take items out of your truck and take on quests. The shops in town will provide you with weapons, accessories and consumables that will be vital to your survival. You do need to watch out when purchasing equipment, as a certain level is required to use most of it. Once you setup all your gear, it’s time to take on a quest. The objectives of these are widely varied. They can be anything from clean out the monster dens to catching up with a floating balloon. While some of these are less fun than others, variety is the spice of life and this certainly works in the game’s favor.

Combat and exploration is perhaps the game’s best attribute. Quest areas typically have treasure chests to find, along with other secrets. As usual for Inti Creates games, enemies have specific reasons behind their attacks. Like the frog enemy may suddenly do a tongue attack at times, but will only do so if you are close enough for it to trigger. For bosses, they can either have a specific pattern for attacks or have a specific animation to tell what they are about to do. As such, fighting enemies and bosses is not typically a chore. Quests themselves also help to keep gameplay variety.

Quests are where the majority of EXP and gold are received from. They can range from merely going from point A to point B, to gathering a certain amount of items, and protecting civilians. For the most part, the requirements to complete a quest are lenient. The actual main concern is the time limit. For some quests, particularly if you are playing single-player, the time limit can be exceptionally tight. If you don’t rush for the goal, you might merely have a minute or so to spare. Combined with at times bulky enemies, this aspect of the game can be rather annoying.

Unfortunately, the game’s progression can require a bit of extra work. The EXP granted from defeating enemies is typically merely a fraction of the EXP gained in a quest. Even then, much of the time completing a quest typically won’t give a level up even if your level is that suggested for the quest. What makes the issue worse is that you can only keep accessories and weapons found if you have successfully completed the quest. If you are having a difficult time completing quests, either due to running out of lives or time, minimal progress will be made. Even if you can complete quests in one go, it feels like you have to do every quest available to even keep up with the level curve. It would be best if enemies gave better EXP as to not have players feel they have to grind slowly to level up or do every quest imaginable just to complete the game.

Graphically, this is one of the best looking sprite based titles I’ve seen in quite a while. This came as no surprise to me when I found that the character designer was Toru Nakayama, known for his work on the Megaman Zero franchise. Throw in graphics designer Hirokatsu Maeda, who worked on the Gunvolt series and Blaster Master Zero, and it’s no wonder Dragon Marked for Death looks amazing.

The character designs are richly detailed and you can customize your avatar with a few colors. Enemy models are equally impressive, especially some of the bosses. That first big ogre you fight is massive and he bites the head off some guy right off the bat. I think the most impressive thing are the actual levels themselves. Some span many areas, from forest to caves, and onward to castle interiors. They are all masterfully crafted and look amazing. It really makes you want to explore each level thoroughly, not to loot items, but to take in all the amazing level design.

The soundtrack here is top notch. Most of the tracks are a mix of something you’d find in a medieval fantasy movie and a classic samurai film. The two styles mix together very well, and I found myself humming along often as I laid waste to all of the foes before me. The sound effects are pretty much what you would expect for a title like this, and you can customize the voice of your created avatar. While a few more voice choices would’ve been welcome, there is enough here to get the job done.

Combat here is your typical side scrolling hack ‘n slash. You will run around slicing up all enemies in your path. You do have some dragon skills that will allow you to do things like guard attacks, gives you some buffs or restore a bit of HP. You can also hold down the attack button to charge up for larger attacks. These usually cover more ground and do lots of damage. The odds are very much stacked against you most of the time. This is where the items you brought with you really save your bacon. The enemies will also drop some items that may fix your status aliments, give buffs or maybe even restore a bit of HP. This is all about luck and ironically, your luck stat plays into how often you get drops.

Now, this game is meant to be played with other players. Indeed, the game is best played with other people as it makes the time limit and bulky enemies much less of an issue. Having played with another online, it’s safe to say that the game runs smoothly as ever with very few issues. There was rarely a hint of lag while playing, not to mention the game’s balance became much more appropriate. That said, there were times where the other player would just disappear from the screen but was still registered on the minimap. This hasn’t affected the gameplay at all, but it was a notable visual issue hinting at an improper connection. The main issue in the end however is not so much the multiplayer itself, but rather that the game is specifically balanced around multiplayer. This is why single player is not as balanced. What could’ve been done is that if played in single player, the game merely auto-adjusts values to level the playing field.

The problem I found with the fighter classes is they simply take too much damage. The weapons have little range, so you have to be up close and personal with monsters to take them out. You do way more damage than the ranged fighters, but item management and effective dodging are very much key to staying alive. Though in general, this game is not really all that much fun in single player because of the difficulty. I highly recommended you play this one with friends via local multiplayer or the internet. Having even just one more party member that is ranged class makes a huge difference. You basically cancel out each others weaknesses and can fight as one well-oiled machine. Marisa and I played this quite a bit online and there was zero lag, and we had no issues finding each other to party up. Honestly, this is one of the smoothest online experiences I’ve had.

While I think Dragon Marked for Death isn’t balanced very well for a single player game, I think the online play more than makes up for that. There is a ton of quest variety, the levels have tons of depth and the game is just simply a blast to play with a friend. I’m not even a big fan of multiplayer games like this, and if I had more time I’d still be playing right now. I think the amount of quests here and replay value more than justify the inexpensive entry price, and hack and slash fans should grab a friend and be all over this one.

[easyreview cat1title=”Overall” cat1detail=”” cat1rating=”4.0″]

Game provided by the publisher for review purposes.

REVIEW: Dragon Marked for Death Title Dragon Marked for Death