#OP your tags are very important to me

[its-all-ineffable]

#michael sheen had absolutely NO RIGHT to go that hard#and break me like this#it's all the emotions aziraphale goes through#like he's not even done processing the kiss#it's the anger and the love and the confusion and the disappointment and the heartbreak#and also the guilt at the end#and him covering it all up#i'm really really never going to recover from this

"I'm very good at forgiveness. It's one of my favorite things."

[gremlingottoosilly]

Mafia konig and his sweet innocent assistant

OMG!! MAFIA KONIG!! My mom was obsessed with TV show about ex-spec ops soldiers starting a criminal ring as a friend group because they didn't have any opportunities after being discharged from the military and...well, let me introduce you to this: Mafia!Konig as a discharged colonel Konig, was let go from the military with(thankfully) enough connections and retirement funds that his little hobby of smuggling guns from poorer Eastern European countries into Austria and Germany(both having horribly strict gun laws) for the less fortunate criminal rings. He gets them guns and drugs -- much lower prices too, thank god for his Prague connections and cheap labor -- and they get him money and power. Mafia!Konig who isn't your typical suit-wearing nice and clean-cut mob boss. He still wears his uniform - not because he wants to taint the suit, but because of his connections as the guy on the inside in the special forces - he was booted out of the army because of his age and traumas, even though he refused until his last day at the forces. He won't ever let anyone tear that form away from him - you just know he fucks you in his office in full gear, bouncing you on his cock as you're forced to beg your colonel to let you cum. Wearing his dog tags as the sign of ownership - as you're nothing but his obedient pet. Mafia!Konig has a solid reputation. A center that helps veterans overcome their traumas and find new purpose in life after exiting special forces - and you're his pretty assistant, just an innocent thing that runs around and does all of his paperwork because Colonel hates doing it! And you want to keep your job, you want to be useful, you're a good girl that doesn't question the suspicious numbers and shady people that attend some of his other totally legal businesses. You know better than to accuse people who served your country of being a dishonest bunch of thugs. Mafia!Konig who knows this is bad for you - innocent thing, you shouldn't ever be wrapped in his schemes, he only hired you because he wanted someone nice, someone kind to hang on to. He is doing terrible things every day, not shading from murders, assassinations and contraband smuggling - but he can come to you and place his head on your chest, just laying here for a few minutes as you stroke his head and relieve all of his anxieties.

Mafia!Konig who eventually convinces you to be his girlfriend. His trophy wife even, eventually - he wants to take care of you, to free you from having a job and worry about money...he has all means to make your life in Vienna as sweet as possible, cute thing, and he even hired move assistants for his more illegal doings just so your only job would be bringing him coffee and sucking him off under a table after the closes a very important weapons deal, forcing his thick cock in your willing throat as he promises to take you to the mountains on Christmas.

[3-kraehen-im-anzug]

I try to have that mentality as well these days. When I hear a child cry in public, I think ‘This is all new to you. You cannot understand these sensations yet and it frightens you sometimes. That’s ok.’ Sure, the noise can be really annoying at times, but I try my hardest not to blame the children for their natural reactions to everything (as I once did).

i understand toddlers cuz if i was just born a couple years ago and someone tried to get me to understand and say words while i'm growing insane amounts of teeth very quickly and painfully i'd be having a temper tantrum on the floor of a department store too

[anistarrose]

I want to make my posts more accessible, but can't write IDs myself: a guide

[Plain text: "I want to make my posts more accessible, but can't write IDs myself: a guide." End plain text.]

While every image posted online should be accessible in an ideal world, we all know it 1) takes time to learn how to write image descriptions, and 2) is easy to run out of spoons with which to write IDs. And this says nothing of disabilities that make writing them more challenging, if not impossible — especially if you're a person who benefits from IDs yourself.

There are resources for learning how to write them (and if you already know the basics, I'd like to highlight this good advice for avoiding burnout) — but for anyone who cannot write IDs on their original posts at any current or future moment, for any reason, the there are two good options for posting on Tumblr.

1. Crowdsource IDs through the People's Accessibility Discord

[Plain text: "1. Crowdsource IDs through the People's Accessibility Discord". End plain text.]

The People's Accessibility Discord is a community that volunteers description-writing (and transcript-writing, translation, etc) for people who can't do so themselves, or feel overwhelmed trying to do so. Invite link here (please let me know if the link breaks!)

The way it works is simple: if you're planning to make an original post — posting art, for example — and don't know how to describe it, you can share the image there first with a request for a description, and someone will likely be able to volunteer one.

The clear upside here (other than being able to get multiple people's input, which is also nice) is that you can do this before making the Tumblr post. By having the description to include in your post from the start, you can guarantee that no inaccessible version of the post will be circulated.

You can also get opinions on whether a post needs to be tagged for flashing or eyestrain — just be able to spoiler tag the image or gif you're posting, if you think it might be a concern. (Also, refer here for info on how to word those tags.)

The server is very chill and focused on helping/answering questions, but if social anxiety is too much of a barrier to joining, or you can't use Discord for whatever reason, then you can instead do the following:

2. Ask for help on Tumblr, and update the post afterwards

[Plain text: "Ask for help on Tumblr, and update the post afterwards". End description.]

Myself and a lot of other people who describe posts on this site are extra happy to provide a description if OP asks for help with one! This does leave the post inaccessible at first, so to minimize the drawbacks, the best procedure for posting an image you can't fully describe would be as follows:

Create the tumblr post with the most bare-bones description you can manage, no matter how simple (something like "ID: fanart of X character from Y. End ID" or "ID: a watercolor painting. End ID," or literally whatever you can manage)

Use a tool like Google Lens or OCR to extract text if applicable and if you have the energy, even if the text isn't a full image description (ideally also double-check the transcriptions, because they're not always perfect)

Write in the body of the post that you'd appreciate a more detailed description in the notes!

Tag the post as "undescribed" and/or "no id" only if you feel your current, bare-bones description is missing out on a lot of important context

When you post it and someone provides an ID, edit the ID into the original post (don't use read mores, italics, or small text)

Remove the undescribed tag, if applicable. If you're posting original art, you can even replace it with a tag like "accessible art" for visibility!

And congrats! You now have a described post that more people will be able to appreciate, and you should certainly feel free to self-reblog to give a boost to the new version!

[godmadeaterribleerror]

Chapter 7 - The Blinding Ultra-Violence

Series Masterlist

Author's Note: Can y’all please let me know if the long chapters are harder to digest? Because I love writing them, but if they actively impair enjoyment of the story I can start to cut them in half. Chapter Title from DEVIL by Shinedown.

Word Count: 13k

Chapter Summary/Warnings: Everyone has a lesson in actions and their subsequent consequences. Emphasis on mental health issues warning for the chapter: specifically suicidal ideation and PTSD.

Tags: Soldier Boy/Supe!Female Reader, canon divergence, enemies to friends to lovers, canon divergence, slow burn, fluff, angst

Read on A03!

Chapter 6 - Chapter 8

Taglist: @lordofthunderthr @kritara @sukunassfinger, @justiceforquentin @acciditties

@c1gs-coffee @manicjk

Want to be tagged? Just ask!

Free will was cruel, and you had some choice words for whatever had given it to you. "Words,” meaning several unspeakable acts of violence, a wide variety of cuss words and vulgar phrases that would leave even Ben agape, and at least one loud, feral scream.

Free will had allowed you to attend a fancy party at Vought, a party that put you in a silk dress and winged eyeliner with glossy lips. Free will had let you do one, two, three shots and gotten you tipsy enough that when the elegant woman with strawberry hair had asked if anyone wanted to sing on stage, asked the crowd if there was at least one guest who wasn’t tone deaf and could do a passible rendition of Moon River, you’d raised your hand. Free will had made you not do a fourth shot, so that when you started to sing you didn’t stumble around the stage, missing notes and embarrassing yourself, but had put on a perfect show, singing and swaying in time to the music.

Later, you had learned that the woman with the strawberry hair had been killed later that night, and Free will had allowed you to feel sorry about it. Free will had you visit her grave in the dead of night in a thunderstorm, and let you sing Moon River one last time.

Free will had allowed you to cave when Butcher and the Boys had found you in a different graveyard, only a month later. Free will let you stick with them all the way to the barn. Free will was what had you coming up with very, very stupid plans.

Not this plan, though. You loved this plan. You loved this plan enough that you hadn’t waited even a half hour after thinking of it to call Butcher, or two minutes after Butcher had screened your call to turn around and call MM instead.

“What’s wrong?” MM had picked up after two rings, and you could almost see his worried frown with his words. “Did Soldier Boy-“

“Ben’s in the living room yelling at a documentary about World War II.” You’d dismissed. “He likes to point out all the alleged inaccuracies. I have a plan, I need everyone here by tonight.”

“Uh,” MM said your name apprehensively. “I don’t think that’ll really work.”

“Look, I know everyone’s probably still freaked out about last night, but this is really important-“

“No, that’s not it. We’re fine. Butcher’s still being a fucking ass about it, but everyone else- Hey!” MM had yelled away from the receiver as something banged in the background, accompanied by muffled shouts.

“Uh, MM?” You’d frowned. “Where are you?”

“Ohio.”

“Ohi- why are you in fucking Ohio?”

“Soldier Boy’s shield is here. Turns out it’s been so motherfucking difficult to get because Vought has their hands on it, and they’ve been keeping it in a warehouse in Akron.”

“I thought it had been flown from Jacksonville, with the suit?”

“Nope. Akron. We didn’t know until a few days ago, even Mallory thought it was just waiting in cargo at JFK.”

You’d glanced down the hall to make sure Ben hadn’t heard that his shield was in Ohio, a state he’d once called “America’s shitstained taint” while watching a football game. You heard him shout “fucking commies didn’t do goddamn shit about the Nazi’s, fuck off!” And decided you were in the clear.

“When do you think you’ll be done?” You’d asked, keeping one ear open in case Ben decided to stop fighting with Ken Burns’ voice and join you in the kitchen.

“If Butcher keeps it together and nobody sees Annie and tips off Vought? Tomorrow night.” MM had answered tensely.

“Ok, come right here when you get back. Like I said, I've got a plan, but it’s time sensitive.” You gone to hang up, but paused with your finger over the button. “Don’t die.” You’d added, and heard MM’s grunted acknowledgment just before the call dropped.

Somehow they’d managed to meet MM’s prediction, and all returned in one piece. The team had stood awkwardly in the kitchen—almost everyone avoiding full eye contact with you despite MM’s claim of everything being fine—as you and Ben had sat at the counter, Ben making a mediocre effort to fake some sort of hospitality per your request.

“Thanks to Ashley,” you’d started. “We know Sage told Homelander that I’m in New York and Ben’s awake.”

“Yeah, we’re really sorry about that.” Annie had said your name apologetically. “We should’ve been more careful-“

“No, it’s fine. I’m fine.” You’d cut her off, giving Ben’s shin a swift kick behind the counter before he could’ve said anything, his disbelieving scorn at your statement running through where your arms were brushing. “And we can use this.”

“Use what?” Hughie had frowned, and you’d continued.

“They haven’t told anyone else about it. We weren’t even sure they knew until Ashley told us. I’m not anticipating them to start alerting the media about me anytime soon, but they should’ve announced that America’s number one traitor is back from the dead and out to attack the innocent.”

“Fucking rude.” Ben grumbled, and a surprisingly bruised feeling ran through you. “All I do is help you, Sunshine, and that’s how you fucking thank me?”

You gave him a quick, half-apologetic, half-annoyed look. I’m being sardonic for arguments sake, and you know it. He’d just rolled his eyes, returning his attention to the mozzarella sticks you’d heated up before the Boys arrived.

“But they haven’t done that,” you’d continued, giving Ben one last dirty look. “Which means-“

“They’re saving it for something.” Annie had finished your sentence with a thoughtful frown.

“Exactly. Sage has some sort of plan, some dramatic and complicated way to fear monger people, turn everyone against Starlight by saying you released Soldier Boy, and have been risking public safety by letting him run rampant for your own anti-American reasons.”

“You want to get ahead of it.” MM had said, eyes narrowed.

You’d nodded, and shared your plan. Now, two days later, you were squished in the back of the van between Hughie—a well placed towel separating any physical contact—and Ben—who despite many protests was eating your burger—watching Firecracker and The Deep sing in a way that made you want to permanently remove your ears.

You visibly recoil as The Deep looks into the camera, and Ben looks up from eating to watch the video as it plays on Hughie’s laptop.

“Fish-boy sounds like a fucking constipated cowboy,” Ben mutters through a mouthful of food.

You hum in agreement. “You even sounded better on your stupid Rapture video.”

Ben scowls, taking another large bite that muffles his words. “I was fucking fantastic in that.”

“You were certainly, technically, singing.” You look up at him with a grin. “With all the passion of a dying squid giving one last, mighty squirt.”

“I don’t ’squirt’, Sunshine.” Ben grumbles, and you can see the moment every filthy thing he could say pops into his head. He takes a rough swallow, mouth opening to say something that will undoubtedly make Hughie regret volunteering to stay in the van, and you cut him off.

“Before you say anything, keep in mind that is still my burger, meaning I have every right to take it back and shove it right up your ass.”

Ben glowers at you, taking another aggressively large bite. “Bitch.” He grunts, and a piece of lettuce falls fully out of his mouth. Though you can feel his dirty look in your direction, you can also feel a spark of amusement run from where your knees are touching into your chest.

“Cunt.” You pick the lettuce off his lap and throw it into his face. “You eat like a squid too.”

“The only thing that me and squids have in common is our giant-“

“Okay!” Hughie shouts, pausing the video. “Soldier Boy, can you please not say something sexual for like, fuck, ten minutes?”

Ben doesn’t respond, invested completely in the burger, and you elbow him in the ribs.

He gives a loud cough, little bits of meat spurting out of his mouth. “What the fuck?!” When you incline your head to Hughie, Ben rolls his eyes and offers Hughie a grunted, “Fuckin hell- fine, you pussy.”

“Oh, ok.” Hughie blinks at Ben nervously before fumbling to unpause the video.

As the laptop catches up with the live feed, jumping to Firecracker bouncing over-excitedly around the now empty stage, Ben leans over you to get a good look at the screen.

“That’s her?”

“Yep.” You give the screen a glare. “Crazy brown-nosing bitch.”

Hughie lets out a noise of agreement, and Ben snorts. After another minute, in which Firecracker manages to say a record twenty-two objectively wrong things in a row, Ben grunts in annoyance.

“When I was at Vought, we had real goddamn talent, not whatever the fuck this is.”

“I know, in the 80s they managed to book a Pretty Boy squid who could kind of sing.”

Lettuce hits you in the face, and you let out a sputtering string of profanities.

“I can more than kind of sing, Sunshine. I have the voice of a goddamn angel. And that song didn’t make any fucking sense, I fucking blew it out of the fucking water- what the fucks so funny?”

“Nothing!” You try and smother the giggles that had built in you as he’d devolved into rambling ire. “You’re way angrier about this than I thought you’d be.”

“I’m not fucking angry-“

“I can feel it, Ben.” You press your leg further against his in reminder. “And even if I couldn’t, you just said ‘fuck’ so many times.”

“I’m not a damn pussy, I’ll swear as much as I fucking please-“ Ben falters slightly as the word slips out once more, and you grin at him.

“When you’re angry, every other word out of your mouth is ‘fuck’. It’s actually really funny.“

“I’m glad it’s amusing for you.” He’s glaring at you, but you can feel the rapid ebbing of his anger through your body.

“It is.” You shrug, and attempt an olive branch. “So was the Rapture video. I used to watch it all the time.”

“Really?” At your words, he’s suddenly giving a toothy, egotistical grin. “What, did you have a crush on me?”

“No,” You mirror his grin, even as you feel your cheeks heat and hear your sister’s teasing in your ear. “It was just really funny.”

He scoffs. “Like you could’ve done it any damn better.”

“Oh, I know I couldn’t have. I sing like a horse who chain smokes.” The lie slips through your teeth with practiced ease. “But nobody would be paying me whatever digusting amout they payed you.”

"Joke's on you, Sunshine. I bought a house with that money."

"Hm," you give him a toothy smile. "I think that makes the joke on Vought."

“I liked your dancing,” Hughie offers weakly. “It was… interesting.”

“See, Cocksucker gets it.” Ben says smugly, giving you a nudge as his attention refocuses on the video.

“That’s, that’s not my name…” Hughie sighs, and you offer him an apologetic, close-lipped smile.

Still leaning over you, Ben takes another bite of the burger as he watches Firecracker. “She’s got good tits,” he observes, and you tilt your head to look at him incredulously. “What?! She does!”

“You didn’t even last,” you look at the clock on Hughie’s laptop. “Five minutes.”

“That’s bullshit, I always last more than five minutes- Hey!”

You manage to fit the entire remaining burger into your mouth a once, chewing frantically before he can try and take it back from you. You give him a smug look. I warned you, Pretty Boy.

He narrows his eyes at you. I’ll make you fucking regret that, Sunshine.

You swallow, his promise of regret already catching up to you from the large bite as the food aches down your throat, and push Ben until he’s fully in his seat. “Her tits better not be nice enough that you decide to blow the mission.”

“Don’t worry, Sunshine, yours are better.” He ignores your venomous look. “And she’s with Homelander. Even the best fucking tits in the world couldn’t make up for choosing that pussy.” His eyes narrow at the screen. “I should just fucking go now, it’s been the same stupid shit for a damn hour.”

“No!” Hughie’s arm shoots out to hold him in his seat, before thinking better and pulling back just as fast. “No, they’re almost ready, please, can we just wait until they’re ready?”

Ben shoots you a look of questioning annoyance. I could just fucking go. Cocksucker couldn’t stop me, and we could all be fucking done and go home early.

No. We’re sticking to the plan. You glare back.

He rolls his eyes. Fucking stupid plan if it takes ten goddamn hours to set up.

You stick your tongue out at him, and turn back to Hughie. “Have they sent any updates? At least gotten the stage passes?”

“They aren’t supposed to check in for another three minutes.” Hughie shakes his head. “And MM’s still working on the stage passes. They’re $350 for some fucking reason.”

“I don’t need a stage pass.” Ben grumbles. “I could just walk in if you would give me the suit, none of those pussies would stop me.”

“The whole point is that you don’t have the suit. But…” You trail off, frowning to yourself. “Hughie, Ben might be right about the stage pass.”

Ben makes a satisfied “Ha!” as Hughie gives you a wide-eyed stare.

“But they can’t know he’s working with-“

“Butcher and Starlight, yeah, I know, it's my plan. But the whole idea is that he’s rogue. Soldier Boy, back from the dead once more, loose on the streets of Manhattan with no adult supervision.” You sweep your hand in a mock headline gesture, and pretend you can’t feel Ben’s indignance. “A real rogue hundred year old terrorist would not have a credit score that lets him buy Vought’s super-diamond-truther backstage pass.”

“So I can have my fucking suit-“

“No,” you snap, and Ben scowls. “That defeats the point even more than the stage pass. Your suit is known government property. It was being kept in a high-security warehouse in Florida. It would be really fucking suspicious if you were wearing it.”

“They were keeping my suit in Florida?!” Ben’s face coils in disgust. “Was my fucking shield in Florida too?! Fuck, is it still fucking there?! In goddamn, sweat-stained-“

“No, apparently Vought was keeping your shield in Ohio.”

“Fucking Ohio?!”

“This doesn’t really seem like it’s about the mission anymore,” Hughie says nervously.

“It’s not, it’s about you fucking dumbass cum guzzlers keeping my shit in goddamn Florida and Ohio- Fuck!”

You give Ben a warning glare, fingers still smoking, as he rubs his arm. “They survived it, and maybe if you put on your big boy pants you’ll manage to as well. Now-“ You turn to Hughie. “You should tell MM that we don’t need the stage pass before he spends a disgusting amount of money on it.”

As Hughie takes out his phone, closing his laptop and standing to cross the van for some semblance of privacy, Ben nudges you with a grunt of your name.

“I don’t like this.” He’s frowning at nothing in particular, and you can feel tight, solid concern through your body. “It’s too fucking public.”

You wrinkle your brow at him, eyes narrowing. “Since when do you give a shit how ‘public’ a mission is?”

“Since it’s a fucking liability. Too fucking public means too many fucking people that even I won’t be able to control.”

“That’s the point-“

“I fucking know ‘that’s the point’, Sunshine, you’ve made that real fucking clear.” Ben grunts, giving you an odd look as his tight feeling grows in your chest. “Doesn’t mean I have to like this fucking dumb plan.”

“Well,” you shrug. “I love it. It’s going to work, you’ll admit I’m a goddamn genius, and maybe Firecracker will start crying like a baby.”

Ben snorts, and a jab of his amusement hits you. But before he can make any snide comments, Hughie hangs up his call with MM and returns to where you and Ben are pressed against the wall of the van.

“Well, MM’s really not happy about it, but he agrees it’s smarter not to do the pass.” Hughie sighs. “And he says that Butcher’s on his way to get us. He should be here in five.”

You nod, turning to Ben with narrow eyes. “Repeat the plan to me.”

He rolls his eyes. “What, don’t you trust me, Sunshine?”

“To retain vital information about my plan that you’ve called ‘fucking stupid’ numerous times? Absolutely not.”

“It is fucking stupid.” He grunts.

You sigh. “Please, Ben. Humor me and pretend you give a shit for one minute.”

Ben’s leg tenses against yours, and something falters along your ribs. He scowls as he speaks in terse, clipped words.

“Get on the stage, make sure the cameras see me, neutralize that Firecracker broad, and beat her up, but don’t kill her for some fucking reason.” The last part is muttered resentfully, and you chose to pretend you don’t hear it.

“And then?” You prompt.

“Break the cameras, find you, and get back here.” He grumbles.

You nod in approval. “You have to make sure you break the cameras, Ben. Frenchie’s going to make sure that all the phones get fried, but you need to break the cameras. There can’t be any evidence you’re not working alone.”

Ben rolls his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, I fucking got it. Kill the bitch, break the cameras.”

“Do not kill Firecracker!” Hughie says frantically, giving you a desperate look and saying your name in a pleading tone. “Please don’t let him kill her.”

You elbow Ben in the gut as you respond. “He knows, he’s just being a fucking dick about it.”

“Fuck off, Sunshine,” he mutters. “And you should let me kill her. She’s not fucking innocent, she’s a goddamn lying bitch.”

“Nope. No killing her.” You say firmly, crossing your arms. “You only get to beat her up because we need to sell the whole ‘out for revenge’ narrative. That’s-“

“The point.” Ben finishes your sentence mockingly. “I fucking got it, Sunshine.”

You kick him again. “So prove it, Pretty Boy. No killing Firecracker.”

“What if she tries to attack me? I should be allowed to fucking defend myself-“

You snort. “Her power is being a dogshit human sparkler. Her attacking you would feel like this.” You poke Ben’s arm, and he frowns.

“I thought she was a fucking fire supe. Like you.”

“I mean, yeah. She technically is. But not all fire supes can have massive fucking horse cocks like mine.”

Hughie lets out a chocking sputter, and Ben rumbles a loud laugh that makes your stomach feel soft and warm. You’re saved from dwelling on how the feeling lingers, starting to spread through your body in time with an easy delighted, sensation that’s not yours, by the opening of the van door.

“Am I bloody interrupting something?” Butcher’s dry voice is raised over Ben’s laughter, an angry and wired frown across his face. “Or can we all stop jerking each other off and do our fuckin jobs?”

“Pull the damn stick out of your ass, Butcher.” Ben rolls his eyes. “We’re not the pussies who took a year to do recon on three fucking blocks.”

"Well, someone has to make sure you don’t blow your load all over a bunch of innocent civilians again.” Butcher sneers, and Ben’s fists curl at his sides.

“I have it under control, you fucking-“

“Butcher,” you interject, feeling something hot and bloody in Ben’s chest start to grow. “We’re ready?”

Not taking his eyes off of Ben, Butcher grunts. “We’ve been ready, Love. We’re just waiting on you bloody cunts.”

“Then let’s go.” You start to stand but have barely moved from your seat when Ben’s hands are on you, holding you in place.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Ben glares at you, and you feel that weird, tight concern along your skin again.

“On the mission, dumbass.” You snap, trying to pry his grip off of your thigh.

“No.” His hand doesn’t move, and the tight feeling grows. “Too fucking risky.”

“It’s my plan, Ben. Did you seriously think I was going to stay in the fucking van?”

He ignores you, turning to where Hughie and Butcher are watching the exchange, Hughie wide-eyed and Butcher scowling impatiently. “Tell her she’s fucking staying here with Cocksucker.”

“No can do, Mate. She goes where you go.” Butcher gives Ben a mocking grin, and another weird feeling writhes in your—Ben’s—gut.

“We’re right in front of fucking Vought, there’s going to be a shit ton of cameras-Fucking hell!” Ben’s hand jerks off of you, smoking and red.

“I’m a grown ass woman, Ben.” You hiss. “I know what I’m walking into, and I know what the risks are. And seeing as you somehow forgot, I’m in charge of you. I go where you go, and that’s not up for fucking debate. I can, I will handle my goddamn self.”

“Trust me, Sunshine, I know you can.” He says, facing his still-raw palm to you. “Doesn’t mean you have to fucking risk yourself for this bullshit-“

“It’s my fucking job!” You burst out. “The whole ‘find me’ part of the plan requires me to be in the fucking crowd, not sitting on my ass with Hughie!”

“What if fucking Homelander’s there? Then what?”

A painful ardor kicks up in your lungs. “He won’t be.”

“You fucking sure about that?” Ben’s voice is dripping with unconvinced cynicism.

“Why are you being so weird about this? It’s not like-“

Butcher gives an overdramatic cough over your words. “Oi, Bonnie and Clyde. I’d let you two fuck it out, but we’re on a bloody tight schedule. She’s coming, that’s that. Now get off your arses and let’s fucking move.”

“Shut the fuck up, you pussy. We’re not done with our fucking conversation.”

“Yes, we are.” You stand up, walking across the van. “Hughie, wait a bit until we’re out of the alley, then send Ben out. Ben,” you raise your hand, dropping fingers one by one as you run through the plan. “Get on stage, blast Firecracker, give her a few light punches, break the cameras, and find me. No casualties.”

“Maybe sprout some anti-patriot shit as well, Gov.” Butcher adds. “Really bloody sell it.”

You shake your head, giving Butcher an exasperated look. “No, we don’t know what Firecracker might say. What Homelander and Sage have told her. In, violent, and out. That’s it.”

You look back at Ben with a steel gaze, to find a glower of his face you’ve never seen before. His whole body is rigid, jaw clenched, mouth in a dropped scowl as his eyes burn through you. He’s looking at you in a way you aren’t able to read, but you feel like he wants you to. Everything about his face screams that you should be able to understand it, but you can’t.

“You’re, you're leaving me here with him?” Hughie’s voice is unsteady, and when you remove your eyes from Ben you find his face has grown pale.

“It’s only a few bleedin’ seconds, Lass. He don’t bite, don’t he?” Butcher gives Ben a cocky smirk.

“Fucking watch yourself, Butcher, I’ll crack your weak fucking skull and not break a sweat.” Ben snarls, eyes still on you.

Butcher scoffs, a taunting jeer in his voice. "No, you won’t. You don’t want to upset Sunshine.”

Ben’s eyes rip from you as he stands up at a freighting speed, body tense and fists clenched as he reaches his full height. For a second, you think you might have to interfere and prevent Butcher’s life from finding a brutal and inconvenient end in the alleyway, but Ben just gives him a violent, twisted growl.

“Count your fucking blessings that I have a job to do, you pussy. And sleep with one fucking eye open, because once this is over, I’m going to drown you in your own blood.”

Butcher gives him a mocking wink and turns to walk down the alley, leaving you scramble after him.

Before you’re fully out of the van, you turn and give Ben one last look. “No casualties.” You say, and almost against your will, your face draws into a look of and stay safe.

You don’t have time to read his face before you jog after Butcher, but the last thing you see of Ben is his arms still braced at his side, his eyes on yours with an almost feral look.

You catch up to Butcher right at the end of the ally, running face-first into his arm when he holds it out, halted before stepping onto the main street.

“Fucking ow, Butcher.” You rub your face where you’d collided, and over your fingers you barely have time to register the Noir baseball cap and jacket flying at your face, managing to catch them against your chest at the last second.

“Put them on.” Butcher says, and looking over the merchandise you see him leaning out the ally, watching the flowing crowds of pedestrians. People clad in red and blue Firecracker costumes and costume adjacect outfits, a few less in dark greens and Deep trademarked Love the Ocean like the Earth and Fish and Man are One shirts, and exactly one, a bouncing little girl with a tutu and big eyes, wearing a Homelander cape.

You look back down at the cap and jacket—which is a few sizes too big—and realize both were made by Uought International, and that Noir has been spelled as Noire. Looking up, you see that Butcher has pulled a Quen Maeve sweatshirt over his shirt, and is wearing green-tinted sunglasses that have little, blue Soldier Boy brand symbols along the frame.

“You shouldn’t wear those,” you point to your nose, mirroring where the sunglasses sit on Butcher’s face.

“Why, Love, you want them so you can feel close to Ben?” He mocks, and you roll your eyes.

“No, dumbass. Right now Soldier Boy is a dead American traitor who’s going to rise from the dead and commit an act of terrorism in like, seven minutes. It’s not smart to wear anything associated with him to ‘blend in’, especially if you’re pairing it with an off brand shirt of the woman who sacrificed herself to save the world from him.”

“You know just as bloody as well as me that Maeve is picking dandelions in California.”

“Yeah, and Soldier Boy isn’t dead, he’s in the van, probably trying to blackmail Hughie into buying him drugs. The internet is a liar sometimes.”

Butcher pulls off the sunglasses with a scowl and a dirty look in your direction before dropping them on your Noire jacket. “Put on your clothes so we can get a fucking move on. We wanna get outta here before Soldier Boy sees you and carries you back to the bloody van.”

You wrinkle your nose at him and pretend you don’t hear the questioning contempt of his voice, shoving the sunglasses into your back pocket before you pull on the jacket. You give Butcher a nod and step out into the current of the street.

The walk to Firecracker’s stage is silent, both you and Butcher angling your heads down from the crowd, down from the blue, cloudless sky and anyone who may be in it. The sun beats down a warmth that is only offset by the biting of the wind, and Firecracker’s voice, projected by speakers to carry over the horns and shouts of the city, starts to claw into your head.

“Patriots, are you ready to know the truth about Starlight and how she’s been kidnapping and trafficking your innocent babies?!” Her voice has the same southern drawl you’ve heard on TV, her bubbly tone in stark contrast to her words. “We’re lucky we have Homelander lookin out for us, keepin us safe, otherwise Starlight might try to take us too!”

You drop your head further, some fearful part of your brain telling you that Homelander might hear his name from the Tower and decide to make an appearance.

Fucking risky, Ben’s voice says in your head, and suddenly you can see him in your head, that strange, angered and piercing face watching you. What if fucking Homelander’s there, Sunshine? Then what? You’ll freeze up, and I won’t be there to help.

I’ll manage, you snap back at his voice, and can almost hear his scoff.

You’ll start crying and wish I was there. You wish I was there right now. You hate that you’re walking with Butcher, who’s probably going to try and kill you instead of me.

Butcher won’t kill me. He can’t.

Never stopped him from trying before. I wouldn’t let him, Sunshine.

I’m stronger than Butcher. I’m stronger than you. I’m stronger than fucking Homelander. I don’t need your help.

But you fucking want it.

“No, I don’t!” You hiss, and only realize you’ve spoken aloud when the words come out strained, caught on a lump that has formed in our throat.

You hear Butcher snort from your side. “Who the bloody hell are you talking to?”

“No one,” you mumble, feeling your face heat as you feel his disbelieving look.

“If you’re going to lose your damn mind and go all mental, you can wait until all this is done? Would be real bloody inconvenient to have to kill you ahead of schedule.”

“Not funny.” You mutter, and are saved from Butcher’s response by arriving at the crowd, stopping next to where MM watches the show in an A-Trane shirt.

“He behind you?” MM says by way of greeting, voice barely raised over the children’s choir rendition of God Bless the USA, complete with trumpet and string accompaniment.

“Should be,” Butcher looks over the heads of the audience, scanning for something that he doesn’t seem to find. “Frenchie gonna be ready when Soldier Boy gets here?”

“Kimiko got them up on a roof across the street, and Annie will get him the electricity he needs when it happens.”

You glance behind you, hoping that Hughie can manage to keep Ben in the van a few minutes more. “We should move,” you say, turning back to MM. “We don’t want to be anywhere near the path to the stage.”

MM nods and begins to lead you and Butcher deeper into the crowd, weaving through the frenzied cheers and whoops as the choir walks off the stage. You stop at the edge of the crowd, off to side enough to avoid any crossfire, but with Firecracker still in a clear line of sight.

She’s staring down the camera, her toothy and smug smile projected on a Jumbotron as she speaks. “I don’t know about y’all, but I think Starlight should come down here and tell us why! Why she won’t show us any proof of her claims that Homelander is a murderer! When, need I remind y’all, Homelander was found innocent! Has Starlight been found innocent?” You watch her cup her ear, listening for the crowds shouted responses.

“Jesus Christ, she has to know this is bullshit, right?” You mutter to yourself, and MM chuckles beside you.

“As far as I can tell, she really believes all the bullshit she’s saying.” He says with a shake of his head. “She got this job cause her head was up Homelander’s ass for free, she ain’t gonna pull it out now that Vought’s paying.”

You hum, looking up at the sky nervously. “MM, has Hughie texted that Ben-“

You’re cut off as screams sound from down the street, and your head shoots to where you had just stood, watching as the crowd beings to franticly part for something you can’t yet see. Butcher and MM are stiff beside you, Butcher’s gun already in his hand as MM’s lingers at his hip. Firecracker’s voice has faltered through the speakers, her eyes wide and face slack on the Jumbotron. The feeling in you, the ardor against your spine and clawing at your skin, begins, and you try not to watch the sky. The sun is bright and there are no city lights, the only thing you can hear is the terrified people, but Homelander’s not here, so you’ll be fine.

The feeling is in your blood and gut, but you’ll be fine.

You’ll be fine.

Are you sure about that? Ben’s voice says in your head.

Shut up. You tell it, just as Firecracker lets out a shrill sound that echos down the streets.

You look up and find Ben has gotten to the foot of the stage, only his side profile visible to you. Firecracker has a shaking finger pointing at him, her mouth agape as she watches him walk closer, closer, closer. You hadn’t been sure what to expect once it began. For Firecracker to scream, beg, cry, fight, run, or collapse once it became that her life was gone from her hands. Of all the scenarios you’d traced, all the outcomes with more blood, less blood, more scream or quick silence, you hadn’t thought she start to laugh. Doubled over, cackling glee, tears in her eyes visible on the Jumbotron.

“Well, look here, folks! No need to be afraid, it’s going to be just fine! Soldier Boy here’s a guest, and he’s going to tell us all about how Starlight tricked him and forced him to fake his death!”

You watch Ben freeze on stage, and the Jumbotron begins to broadcast his tight, angered face to the steadily regrouping audience.

“Fuck,” MM breathes out. “They’re going to flip him.”

Butcher says your name roughly. “You need to get there, get him in bloody line. We can’t have him running off with Vought.”

You need to move. Every part of you is screaming that you need to go, go, get there and remind Ben that you’re watching and keeping him in check. But you can’t, frozen as you watch his movements on the Jumbotron, trying to keep control when your blood has run cold, and every breath you take is caught against that lump in your throat. You can’t move, and all you can do is watch him on stage, eyes scanning the crowd as he watches them look at him in awe.

Then your falling forward, barely managing to catch your footing before your knees hit the pavement, turning to see MM on the phone speaking in a commanding, measured tone, and Butcher reaching forward to push you once more. You take another, smoother step back before he can, but you don’t wait for him to bark an order for you to go. You turn back to the crowd with the bass of the speakers barely drowning feeling, trying to weave without touching anyone as it grows and grows.

You’re at the base of the stage now, and before you can start to figure out a subtle way to alert him, his eyes lock with yours.

What the fuck is happening. His gaze asks at it runs through you, his body turned as though he may start to move in your direction, and Firecracker's voice rings the air.

“Lovely, you brought her too!” Both you and Ben turn to where she stands, smiling and looking at you. “Our very special guest, The Anomaly!”

Your blood isn’t cold. It’s burning, everything is burning inside of you, scraping to get out. But there are people moving around you now, people everywhere, and someone is nudging you forwards to the stage until a smiling face is pulling you up and moving you right next to Ben. It’s so bright, and you’re burning, and when you turn your head out to the crowd, you see yourself. Up on the Jumbotron. And there are cameras. Cameras everywhere. Cameras that are following your movements as Firecracker speaks.

“I know ya’ll don’t recognize her, she hasn’t been around for as long as this patriot!” Your eyes tear from the screen just in time to see Firecracker playfully slap Ben’s arm, to watch his whole body go rigid as she did. “But she’s a real good friend, and she and Homelander go way back!”

You’re cold again. Cold and angry and sharp. Everything is sharp again, the faces of the audience are clear, and Firecracker’s words are no longer miles away. No, she’s right in front of you with a wide smile of teeth, and you can hear drums.

Drums.

You look down, and your foot is bumped against Ben’s. His eyes aren’t watching you anymore, fixed on Firecracker, but everything sharp in him, in you, is pointed at her.

“If fact,” Firecracker has turned back to the crowd, hands placed over her heart with a simpering face. “She and Homelander? Well they were childhood sweethearts! Supes, raised together, only having each other. And when Homelander went off to become our great hero, she stepped away from the spotlight.” Firecracker takes a large step back, turning back to you. “She didn’t want the fame. She just wanted him!”

A chorus of sickly sweet awwws ripples through the crowd, and the feeling is behind your eyes.

“Homelander was, is, the love of her life. Which is why, when Starlight and her team of devil-worshippers came to kill her, The Anomaly fought with all she had to stop them.”

It’s under your nails.

“She wasn’t strong enough, though, and they dragged her away from where Homelander had been keeping her safe to let her bleed out, far away from the man she loved.”

It’s on your teeth.

“Love that kept her alive, love that made her find another who had been wronged, another who would do anything for Homelander-“

Firecracker makes a gesturing sweep to Ben, and the world begins to blur.

“Soldier Boy! And now they’re here, to reunite with their lover, their son, and have the happy endings they deserve!”

The feeling is everywhere. Ben is pressed closely against you, and the drums are in your ribs. Firecracker is still smiling and her teeth are so white. The crowd is cheering and whooping and you’re going to crack-

Something smashes off the stage, and Firecracker’s smile drops. You make yourself follow her gaze, the movement like moving through mud, and see smashed cameras at MM’s feet. Gunshots ring out, and something above you shatters as Butcher appears, gun raised.

Firecracker’s face has contorted, cheery persona vaporized and she starts to shout in a furious wail.

“No! My cameras! My show- Do you have any idea how hard that speech was to memorize?! I worked so hard, and you ruined it you fucking-“

She flys across the stage, Ben taking large, violent strides to where she lands with a crack. You can see her fear when she looks up to where he stops above her, the light growing in his chest.

“Help!” She screams, looking around at the stage audience and tech workers. “He’s- he’s fucking crazy, he’s going to kill me! Someone- someone fucking stop him!”

The stage audience.

The tech workers.

You’re running. Words aren’t fast enough, and Ben’s too far gone for them anyway. You are, though. You’re flying, tearing across the stage and throwing yourself against Ben. He falls to the ground, the light still building, and twists to try and throw you off of him, his eyes so deep into himself you don’t think he knows it’s you.

Pressed against him, you can only feel the drums, and you brace yourself as the light in him explodes.

It’s painful. A blinding and unforgiving pain that sears through your body. Numbness follows behind it though, fast and empty relief, and when your eyes can see once more Ben is watching you with horror across every feature.

He looks like he’s going to roar at you, tear into and across you. You can feel fury and something deep into his chest that’s screaming.

Firecracker lets out a breathy, sobbing laugh from somewhere to your side, and even if nothing in him wavers, it saves you from whatever Ben was going to say.

“Shit, you're both pathetic. You can’t even take out one person?” Firecracker starts to pull herself up to her feet. “I don’t know why Homelander was so worried about y’all. You’re weak.” She reaches down, grabbing the back of your tattered Noire jacket and pulling you off of Ben. “I mean, I expected more from at least you, Soldier Boy. He looks up to you still, you know. Was so hopeful you’d flip. But,” she shakes her head sadly. “What a disappointment.”

You’re not sure how it happens, let alone where the energy comes from, but you twist in Firecracker’s hold and punch her square in the face. She drops her hold, stumbling back as her nose starts to fill with blood. You never hit the floor though, Ben’s arm looping around your waist as he draws himself upwards.

Everything is sharp and hungry anger that is driving in you—in Ben—to Firecracker. The thing in his chest is still clawing at him, and you can feel your own glacial fervor, but nothing is as strong as the hungry anger.

Firecracker doesn’t feel it though, the storm that's brewing. And she doesn’t know when to quit.

“You worthless bitch.” She sneers through her fingers, trying to plug the blood. “You frigid little whore.”

“Watch it.” Ben growls, arm tensing around your waist.

“Oh, fuck off, you fossil! She’s tricking you, sinking her little claws into her like she did Homelander, with her stupid little songs and dances!”

“Shut up,” the words don’t come out in the firm command you wanted. Your voice sounds pathetic, weak against your ears.

“Do you have any idea how fucking exhausting you’ve been?” Firecracker whines. “Everything was amazing until you came back. He was starting to trust me! And then Sage comes back, accuses Homelander of lyin to her, and says you’re alive. And all of a sudden that’s all that fucking matters! He’s just angry and hurt and it’s so annoying.”

The world is less focused.

“I’ve heard Moon River so many fucking times this week, it makes my skin fucking crawl. I don’t even get it! What can you do that I can’t? I want him, you don’t even care to stick around-“

Nothing is in focus. It’s only Firecracker, her voice, and the feeling.

“I love him, I am perfect for him, I am blessed and chosen and you’re just a lonely little stuck up slut who didn’t even wait after leaving him and everything he did for you-“

Her teeth are so white and you don't think you can breathe.

“Everything he gave you-“

You can feel ghosts of the pain, see the bright light as they push the fire into you. Can feel it now, trying to get out.

“To turn around and spread your fucking whore legs!”

Something in you snaps. Cracks, echoes through your body, and explodes. You’re everywhere, the fire bleeding from you. You can’t see anything but the white room around you, and you have to get out. So you let everything go. It’s just you and the fire, cocooning around you and keeping you safe.

Just you and the fire and something else that is gripping around you. Something in your chest that is thrashing and trying to keep you close. It feels safe too, so you let it stay as everything else continues to burn.

A deep, roaring voice is calling your name. It sounds like the thing in your chest, and it reverberates through you as if it’s pressed against you. There are screams too, broken and raw screams, but you can’t see where they’re coming from, and they don’t feel safe like the voice.

The thing gripping around you feels heavier. It feels safer. There’s no city lights, you can’t even really remember what they might look like, but there’s music. Soft and deep in your ear, wrapping around you. Putting something out along your skin. You’re getting weak, and you feel cold.

You can’t stop. Something in your head tells you. You falter, and you’re back in the room.

But you’re so tired. The grip feels safe. And the music is settling into you and feels so good.

So when the world goes black, the last thing you feel is the thing in your chest reaching for you, and you could swear it breathes in relief.

————

He’d figured it out. The tapping. Firecracker had said Moon River, and he’d realized that was it. The rhythm of the verses matched that incessant tapping of Hers perfectly. He’d taken a fucking gamble, dragging the verses from somewhere deep in his brain as she’d been consumed by the fire, and it had paid off when She’d collapsed into him. The fire still lingered long after She closed her eyes, long after Ben stopped humming. Most of the stage was ash, from the hollowed, disgusting bodies of Firecracker and a few unfortunate audience members to the still flaming stage curtains.

Ben picked her up, and her eyes didn’t even flutter. Her body was still burning, and his hands protested in pain against her skin, but he bit down his pain with ease. Ben wasn’t a pussy, and he’d heal. This was more important.

A thought that had everything in him—except the feeling he’d been keeping in his gut that had somehow managed to crawl into his chest—very fucking irritated.

Ben turned, carrying Her off the stage to get her as far away from here as possible, only to find both MM and Butcher waiting, guns pointed right at his face.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” He growled. They didn’t have any fucking time for these dramatics. As far as he fucking understood from Her explanations, all that shit show had just been broadcast through the fucking nation. Homelander was probably on his way, and Ben wouldn’t be able to do his fucking job and wipe the floor with that pussy if She was still unconscious and the stupid fucking thing in his chest was worried.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing, Gov.” Butcher jeered back. “We’re not letting you off that bloody easy.”

Ben glowered at him, and his desire to throw Butcher against the nearest concrete wall was only barely defeated by the godforsaken need to get Her somewhere safe. “We don’t have fucking time for this. Move out of my fucking way, or I’ll make you.”

“Take your best fucking shot, cunt.” Butcher taunted.

“Last fucking chance to get out of my way.” Ben could hear the hitch in both their hearts, uneven from the growing steadiness in Hers.

“We ain’t moving, Soldier Boy.” MM angled his gun higher. “And you’re not taking her.”

“Jesus fucking Christ, you fucking pussies!” Ben roared, whatever patience he’d managed to hold onto vanished. “Homelander is probably on his fucking way, and unless you want him to take her, we need to fucking leave right fucking now!”

Both men blink, Ben’s words hanging in the air just long enough that he was starting to get ready to just fucking push through them. He’d deal with Her anger about it later, when she was awake and they were far fucking away from cages and boxes.

But MM lowered his gun, narrowing his eyes at Ben. “You’re going to let us take you back to the safe house?” His voice had a tone of disbelief that Ben didn’t fucking appreciate.

“Fucking hell, yes. Now fucking move your dumb fucking asses before I change my fucking mind!”

MM looked over at Butcher, whose gun was still aimed at Ben’s head. “The kid’s bringing the van round?”

“He bloody should be.“ Butcher grunted, but didn’t move. “But that don’t mean shit, I ain’t trusting this cunt to go quietly.”

“I’m certainly not going to go quietly if you keep a fucking gun in my face.” Ben sneered. “I might not do jackshit to me, but it’s goddamn rude when I’m trying to fucking help.”

“Why should we trust that?” MM asked coldly, glancing down at Her in Ben’s arms. “This is your ticket out. You’re probably just going to kill us in the van while she’s still out.”

Ben fucking knew that, he wasn’t an fucking idiot. He could hear Her heartbeat, fully steady as sleep held her under, could feel the scalding heat of her body almost fully faded. When he glanced down at her face, it painted into an empty ease. But when he blinked, it would flash back to just before she’d burst. Afraid. Only pure terror on Her face as Firecracker screamed about Homelander.

She wasn’t going back there.

“I guess you’re going to have to take a fucking gamble.” Ben held MM’s stare. “Because you have five seconds to fucking move before I kill both you pussies and leave with her.”

Some part of Ben still managed to be surprised when they exchanged one last, tense look, MM’s eyes flaring at Butcher, who dropped his gun with an angry huff. When MM started to walk away, likely to where Cocksucker waited with the van, and Butcher only said, “Breathe one wrong breath, Soldier Boy, and I’ll put you right back under.”

Ben wanted to. He wanted to step just far out enough of line that he’d be justified in bashing Butcher’s smug, pussy fucking head against the curb. But he didn’t, just keeping Her in place against him until they were back at the safe house, glaring at the whole sorry fucking lot of Her team as they watched Ben hold Her in the corner. Her heartbeat stayed steady, and it kept the drum in him from bursting, aided by the thing in his chest settling back into him the more distance grew between Her and the stage, Vought Tower, and Homelander.

When they reached the safe house, Ben didn’t bother to pause, waiting only for Butcher to open the door, before he was moving through the hall in tight, bounding steps. Up the stairs, shoving the door to Her room open, laying her on the bed above her sheets. She let out a little sigh as he let her go, and Ben hated how it made the thing in his chest wake up. He had to get himself under fucking control. She was safe, he’d done what he fucking needed to, and he wasn’t about to be a goddamn creep and watch her sleep.

The seconds were starting to stretch though, as he watched Her, listened to the steady sound of her heart. She looked so fucking peaceful, and it was calming the thing in his chest.

Fuck, he didn’t like how easy it felt. Especially as she let out another small sigh, rolling over with an arm stretching out, and he wanted to touch her upturned palm. That realization snapped him out of whatever stupid fucking trance he’d been dragged into, and he managed to turn, walking towards the door.

Before he left though—practically against his will—he turned back just in time to hear another sigh and see Her body curl into the mattress.

“Sleep well, Sunshine.” He muttered and tried to ignore the last sigh released from her chest, and how if ran through him.

When Ben got down to the kitchen, goddamn fucking Cocksucker and Starlight were waiting for him.

“What are you cum guzzlers still fucking doing here?” He grumbled, pushing past them to get to the pantry.

“Is she ok?” Cocksucker asked, and Ben shrugged, grabbing a bag of half-eaten jerky from the top shelf.

“She’ll fucking live.” He ignored the flash of Her fearful face in his head, and how his grip on the bag turned to steel. “One of you better answer my goddamn question.”

“We need to talk to her,” Starlight said softly.

“Don’t hold your fucking breath, she’s out cold.” Ben snapped.

Starlight sighed. “We’ll wait.”

“No, you won’t.” Ben turned around to face her. “She needs to fucking rest.”

“Cocksucker look between Starlight and Ben nervously. “We need to make sure-“

“She did you a fucking favor.” Ben growled. “Firecracker’s not a problem anymore, and her stupid plan fucking worked.”

“She killed four people.” Starlight said tightly. “And after Ashley, we need to know that she’s still with us.”

“With you?” Ben scoffed, saying Her name in the same exasperated tone. “Her? You think she’s going to turn against you fucking pussies?”

“She’s- she’s been weird.” Cocksucker stuttered. “And you’ve gotten closer than we thought-“

“Fuck off.” Ben snorted. “I haven’t turned her, if that’s what your dumb little pea-brains think.”

“We’re not who you have to convince, Soldier Boy.” Starlight watched Ben with a frown. “I trust her. Hughie trusts her.”

“Then what the fuck-“

“Butcher,” Cocksucker said softly. “MM. Mallory. They’re worried she’s going to be a liability.”

“Then they can come fucking tell me their fucking selves.” Ben hissed. “Now get the fuck out.”

Starlight looked like she was going to push back, and Ben was ready to throw her through the door himself, but Cocksucker placed his hand on her back, and something passed silently between them.

“Fine,” Starlight sighed, giving Ben one last, tired look. “If you promise to tell us when she’s awake, I can try and hold them off.” Her eyes narrowed. “For her.”

Ben grunted. “Deal.”

And they were gone, and Ben was alone in the kitchen.

She didn’t wake up for three full days. Three, long, insufferably quiet days where it was just Ben. Three days of pacing, of eating alone, of watching TV all through the damn night because he couldn’t sleep even if he fucking tried. Three days of the awful thing in his chest making up stupid excuse to open the door to her room and check to see if she had vanished. She never had, she would always be twisted on the bed, heart steady, face empty. At some point Ben moved Her under the covers, after he made up an excuse to touch her and found her not burning like he’d been checking for, but freezing cold. Three long days of wishing She was awake, reminding himself he didn’t fucking need Her awake, and the thing in his chest roaring that he did.

He tried to push it down, and almost succeeded, but at the end of the second day he walked downstairs from where he’d been standing outside her door for a disgustingly long time—finally managing to not push in and check on her—to find Butcher in the living room.

“She’s still out.” Ben had grunted, and Butcher had only shrugged.

“I ain’t here for her. We need to have a little chat.”

“I’m good.”

“I wasn’t bloody asking.”

Ben remembered wondering in the moment if he was already in enough hot water that killing Butcher wouldn’t really matter. “You’re playing a game you can’t fucking win.” He’d warned, and even Butcher’s heart hadn’t stuttered.

“I’ll be out of your hair in a flash, Gov. But not until you fucking listen.” Butcher managed to have more intelligence than Ben thought him capable of, and didn’t wait to hear Ben’s answer before he began. “Her plan, somehow, bloody worked. Most of the media coverage is sayin that Firecracker started panicking and lying to try and keep herself alive. You’re being label as a crazed lunatic, out for revenge.”

“Then what’s the fucking problem-“

“Her. Everyone’s buying the story about Her and Homelander, thinkin you kidnapped her after we tried to kill her.”

Ben rolled his eyes. “That doesn’t even make any fucking sense.”

“Don’t need to make sense. It’s the narrative Vought got, and they’re running with it. As far as the public knows, you’re back, out for bloody and evil revenge, and are holding her hostage to hurt Homelander.” Butcher narrowed his eyes at Ben. “And they’ve reached out. They want to meet with you.”

“They?” Ben paused, ready to grab Butcher’s tongue and make him stop talking in fucking riddles. “Who the fuck is they?”

“Vought.” Butcher said shortly. “Sage. Homelander.”

Ben snorted. “Fuck no. We’re not bringing her anywhere near that goddamn pussy and his conniving bitch.”

“Good thing they only want to talk to you, then, ain’t it.”

That made Ben pause, eyes narrowing at Butcher as suspicion had begun to build in his chest. “The fuck are you talking about.”

“One hour, a truce, just you, me, Starlight, Homelander, and Sage. At the old Starlight Fund building. Just talking.”

Ben snorted. “You dumb enough to believe that?”

“Nope. But you agree, it happens.”

Ben grunted. He didn’t trust any of it. He didn’t trust Homelander to have no ulterior motive. He didn’t trust Sage to not be plotting something. He didn’t trust Butcher to not have a fucking trick up his stupid fucking Hawaiian shirt. “And if don’t.”

Butcher shrugged. “Then this conversation never happened.”

Ben had said your name carefully, trying to feel out whatever it was he fucking knew Butcher was hiding. “What about her?”

“She’d stay here.”

Ben raised his brows at that. “You’d trust me without her?”

“Fucking hell, no. Not if hell bloody froze over. Don’t trust you with her. We’d set up something to make you go night-night if you get all nuclear. CIA got more than enough gas to put you under, they can spare some for our lovely uses.”

“How long does the offer stand?” Ben asked, pushing down the drum.

Butcher had shrugged. “Until you give an answer.”

“I’ll think about it.” Ben said. “Now get the fuck out.”

Butcher chuckled dryly. “Alright, Gov. Keep your damn pants on.” As Butcher walked, hands in pockets, down the hall, he paused as he passed Ben, and shoved something into his hands. “She dropped those on her way to the stage. Good luck when she wakes up, Mate. I’d keep her away from the telly.”

Ben had looked down at what Butcher had given him as the man walked away, brow furrowing at what he found.

Shitty, off-brand Soldier Boy sunglasses.

Ben had placed them in his room to give to Her later. But another full day had passed before she woke up, and Ben’s mind had not stilled the whole fucking time.

He hadn’t been lying. Ben thought about Butcher’s—Homelander’s—offer. Constantly. Starting with the fact that he didn’t have a goddamn thing to say to Homelander. The shock of their relation had long passed, fading into a numbness of just another fucking job for Ben to do, just another way in which he had to be alone. Then the numbness had been replaced by a blinding wrath. A disgust from what he had done. Ben wasn’t a saint, saints were weak, self-righteous whiners. But he wasn’t a fucking monster. He did what had to be done, and a little more to make sure he didn’t have to do it again. He didn’t take women and lock them in cages. He didn’t hurt people until the singular thought of him made them afraid. People fear Ben, yes. But just as much as they should.

Ben didn’t fear Homelander. She didn’t fear Ben. But She feared Homelander. A weak, fucking pathetic man who had needed to break someone stronger than him, someone worth more than him powerless, to feel big. She was worth so much more than Homelander that she wanted to help people. Worth so much more that she still somehow looked at the world and found it worth something. She found worth in fucking everything. Everything was amusing to Her, everything was beautiful, everything had value and meaning. Ben fucking hated it. It leaked into him, and felt fucking strange. Because he could hear Her in his head, saying Pretty Boy, this is an opportunity. Don’t be a petty baby and waste it.

And that was where the thoughts would loop. Ben didn’t want to talk to Homelander. Homelander had hurt Her and Ben never would. She’d find a way to use this, though, and She’d want him to go. But Ben didn’t want to talk to Homelander. Over and over until Ben heard Her heartbeat stutter, heard shuffling around in Her room, and had to fight the thing roaring in his chest to sprint up the stairs. He somehow managed to remain seated on the couch, everything in him fucking strained to stay in place as she tapped down the stairs and cleared her throat behind him.

Ben turned to find Her watching him with eyes still crusted from sleep. When She spoke, her voice was hoarse, and her words were quiet.

“How long was I out?”

“Few days.” Ben answered, trying to watch her passively, to pretend he wasn’t studying her every feature. He wasn’t even fucking sure what he was looking for himself.

“What-“ She took a deep breath. “What happened?”

Ben paused, finding her eyes again. Keep her away from the telly, Butcher had said, and Ben had immediately checked to see what the fuck he was talking about. He’d found the answer fast: photos of Firecracker’s scorched body, interviews with the families of the audience members who had met the same fate. Speculation about what Ben was doing to Her, fabricated “evidence” of Her and Homelander’s love. A complete, well-developed, entirely bullshit story about her life. Born in the same hometown as Homelander, happily giving up her life to support him, working instead behind the scenes in Vought marketing and cooking in her free time.

Homelander didn’t have a hometown, that pussies whole story was even more bullshit Vought propaganda than Ben’s was.

She wouldn’t “give up her life” to support anyone. And if she did, they’d have to hear her bitch about it until they fucking died.

Ben had once heard her call marketing “a plague upon human culture and societal development” during the third commercial break of one of his football games.

Everyone would know if She had tried to cook Homelander food, because it would’ve killed him.

Butcher had wanted Ben to lie. But Ben fucking knew She wouldn’t have lied to him. And he knew She would find out the truth somehow and be a real bitch about Ben lying to her.

“Three audience members and Firecracker died. You passed out. We got back here.”

“Oh,” she said softly, but didn’t look away, and Ben could see something fragile in her eyes fracture. Hear the taps of Moon River begin. “What are they saying?”

“They?”

“Vought.”

“Your plan worked.” Ben grunted, and the rhythm of Her heart told him she knew there was more. “But Firecracker’s bullshit stuck. I’m being painted as a revenge-blind maniac, and you’re being painted as my victim.”

She let out a humorless laugh. “If anything, you’re my victim.”

Ben felt his mouth twitch. “That’s what I keep fucking saying.”

She let out another, smaller huff of amusement before her face fell back into that soft state, her eyes still tired as she watched him. “That’s all?”

He nodded. “That’s all.”

She gave one last sigh, and it sounded so weak. He wanted to grab her and figure out a way to make her move. Get her to sit next to him and laugh so the fucking thing in his chest would let go of his lungs. Before he could, though, she turned and padded back up the stairs, her door closing behind her.

Another day passed before Ben even fucking saw her again. She’d slunk into the kitchen around dinner, hair tangled and eyes hollow, heating up a box-meal before placing it on a plate and carrying it back upstairs. The next day was the same, and Ben had tried to grab her and make her fucking talk to him, and she'd stared at him with a wide, empty gaze.

“We need to fucking talk.” He’d grunted.

“Please don’t.” Her voice had been so fucking quiet.

“Don’t what?” He’d growled. “Fucking talk to you? You’re just going to never fucking talk to me again?”

She’d given a small shake of her head. “I don’t want to talk. Please.”

“You’re being fucking weird.”

“Please.” She’d sounded desperate. “I can’t talk. Please.”

He’d never heard her say please so many times. He’d only seen her like this, a weak and fearful girl, once.

He’d hated it on the Neuman mission. He hated it now.

He hated she looked weaker now. Hopeless. He hated how he relented, let go of her, and she’d gone back upstairs and didn’t come back down. Two more days passed, and the only way Ben knew she was alive was the sounds of music coming from her room and the food that vanished from the kitchen overnight.

Ben was going to lose his fucking mind. The last time she’d avoided him this much had been the beginning, and, fuck, that had been better than this. She’s seen him and fought with him, tearing him to pieces as he did the same to her. Stood her fucking ground against him, a completely insufferable, violent, angry bitch of a woman. Even after they’d called truce on their war, she’d remained a powerfully wrathful, unrelenting pain in Ben’s ass. Now she wouldn’t stand in the same fucking room as him, and he was going to go fucking insane.

So, on the fifth day, Ben banged down her door, ready to demand she fucking tell him who to kill to fix this.

He found her curled in her bed, staring far ahead into nothing. Something hit his nose that he forced himself to ignore, and she didn’t even move as he pushed into the room.

“What the fuck are you doing?” He asked gruffly. She didn’t answer, so he said her name roughly. “What’s fucking wrong with you?”

“Why did you do it?” Her voice was light—frail—as she stared ahead.

“Do fucking what?”

She finally looked at him. “Why did you go back, with Sage, why did you fucking do that?”

“I saved your life, Sunshine. And you never even fucking thanked me.” Ben knew his words were cruel, shooting to hurt Her. But maybe she’d fucking fight him. Fucking do something that wasn’t just fucking sitting there.

“You should’ve left me.” She whispered, Ben rolled his eyes, and her voice raised. Not to a scream, but a high-pitched, frantic tone of desperation. “You should’ve! You should’ve left me and run! You could’ve been free, why did you do that! Why! You should’ve just fucking left me!”

This was worse, Ben knew. So much fucking worse. “Why are you being so fucking dramatic-“

“You should’ve left me to die!” She screamed. “You should’ve just left me to die! Why didn’t you just let me fucking die?!”

Ben stared at Her as she started to cry, shaking on the bed, trying to push herself further back into its frame. She’d tucked her head into her arms, sobs wracking through her whole body as she held herself, fingers digging into her skin. No smoke was rising, no tapping or chewing, just Her tears falling as she let out another, broken scream. Ben was frozen, he didn’t know how to fucking deal with this. Fuck, he barely knew how to deal with Her when she wasn’t breaking down in front of him.

Through sobs, Ben heard Her say it again. “It would be better if you had just let me die.”

Ben didn’t need the thing in his chest to tell him to move. He crossed the room in two long steps, dropping on the bed next Her.

“Look at me.” She didn’t, so Ben grabbed her wrists and pulled them down. “Sunshine, fucking look at me.”

She glanced down at where he still held her and blinked, letting out a stuttered breath. Her voice was still so weak when she spoke, “What?”

“Fucking look at me.” He growled one last time, and she finally did, her eyes still so empty. “You’re being fucking stupid.”

She gaped at him, disbelief finally filling her expression. It wasn’t the amusement or rage Ben wanted back, but it was something.

“What?’

“You’re being a goddamn idiot. Things would…” The words vomited out of him. “Be a lot fucking worse if you were dead.”

She shook her head, the hopeless looking creeping back. “I killed four people, they’d still be alive-“

"Maybe.” Ben grunted. “Maybe not. But they, along with a few more, would still be dead if you hadn’t knocked me down. Which was even fucking stupider than you’re being now, but we’ll fix that later.”

“Fix that?” She gave him a sharp look, words still choked. “I thought we agreed not to fix each other.”

“You agreed not to fix me. I made no such fucking promises.”

There was a silence for a second before She spoke again. “I don’t want you to ‘fix me’. I want to care that I…” Her stuttered, and she took another shaky breath before pushing them out. “I hurt people.”

“That’s to job, Sunshine.”

“I don’t care,” she whispered. “I didn’t even want the job anyway.”

Ben watched her, wrists still in his hands, face faraway, and eyes still lined with tears. An image flashed in front of him, of Her a few years younger, singing karaoke and crying about stupid, normal shit. Something Ben himself had never done, something Ben wouldn’t even know how to miss. The image lingered in his head, her smile carefree, singing loudly and off-key, no blood on her hands, and the thing in his chest was angry.

“Ben?” She said softly, and the image vanished. “I’m sorry.”

He scowled. “Why are you fucking apologizing to me?”

“You don’t want to deal with this, with me. It’s not- it’s not useful to cry over spilled milk-“

“Shut up,” he snapped. “No, it’s not useful. For me. For Butcher. For Homelander. You get to whine over it, because-“

“Because I’m a woman?” She asked dryly, and he glared at her.

“No, smartass. Because you’re not like us. You didn’t fucking choose this.”

“You didn’t choose that,” she nodded to his chest. “Do you get to cry?”

“I don’t cry.” He said firmly, and She tilted her head at him in a way he didn’t like. “But I get to be angry. You get to be angry. And if you need to have a little breakdown to be angry, then so fucking be it.”

“But I killed people-“

Ben rolled his eyes. “Three Homelander supporters and Firecracker. Real fucking contributors to society, I’m sure.”

“They were still people.” She pushed. “People who I killed. People who would be alive-”

“If you say ‘if you were dead’, I’ll kill you myself.” Ben snapped.

She stared at him in disbelief and something harsher flickered in Her eyes. Fucking finally.

“I’d like to see you fucking try, Pretty Boy.”

He huffed a laugh. “I’ll wipe the floor with your ass, Sunshine.”

“I’ll make you regret crawling out of your mother in the first place, cunt.” She taunted, and Ben felt a wide grin on his face.

“I’m sure you will, you bitch.” Ben gave her a sweeping look. Her matted hair, tear crusted and red eyes, the smell he’d been pushing down starting to feel fucking visible. “But you need to fucking shower first, you smell like the shit you’ve been wallowing in.”

She glared at him, and for a second Ben thought she’d keep fighting him, or worse, start crying again, but she just gave a light tug against where he still held her.

“Can’t fucking shower if you won’t let me move, Ben.” She said flatly, and Ben rolled his eyes as he let go.

“Fucking drama queen,” he muttered, and She gave him a sarcastic, toothy smile as she stood.

“Eat me.”

“I would if you’d let me, Sunshine.” He called after Her, and though she closed the door with a slam, Ben still heard her heart flutter.

He waited as the water ran and tried not to think about Her, naked, in just the other room. Tried not to think about the relief the thing in his chest had felt when she’d stopped crying, the satisfaction it felt when he’d gotten her to laugh, and the stupid fucking anger it had felt at everything when she’d broken in front of him. He didn’t let himself dwell on the way it made him sit here. Fucking waiting for her like a lost goddamn puppy. Wanting to make sure she was okay. She was fine, she wasn’t sobbing and screaming, so she was fucking fine.

But what if She’s not, you fucking ass? The thing growled. What if she’s just waiting for you to leave?

Ben fucking hated that it worked, and he stayed on the bed.

What if She needs you? It hissed. What if she wants you to stay?

Ben loathed that even more. Because it echoed in his brain, and made him listen intently for any sounds of distress over the water, made him sit rigid and alert until the door opened.

She walked out, a towel wrapped around her body. She blinked at him once, and Ben couldn’t fucking figure out if she was even surprised he was there.

“Clothes,” she mumbled, walking to her dresser. Ben grunted, and watched her return to the bathroom, the door closing behind her once more.

Maybe he should go now. It was late, it had been a weird, long fucking day. He should fucking go and put some distance between the thing in his stupid fucking chest and Her-

The door opened, and She walked over to drop back on the bed, a small smile on her face.

“You’re real shit at comforting people, Pretty Boy.”

Fine. He’d fucking stay.

“Good.” Ben grunted. “And it fucking worked on you. Didn’t even get a damn ‘thank you.’”

He felt Her hand on his arm, and looked at her face, soft and open. “Thank you.”

He grunted again, staring back at the wall, and she chuckled.

“I mean, it was still a shit job, but it was so shit it looped around into being remarkably effective.”

“Doesn’t count as a damn thank you, Sunshine, if you fucking insult me right after.”

She shrugged. “Then do a better fucking job next time, Pretty Boy.”

Ben snorted. “Don’t hold your damn breath.” She didn’t respond, and he turned to find Her watching him, lips in a thin frown with her brow gently wrinkled. “I can hear the fucking gears in your head, Sunshine.” He said. “Say what you’re fucking thinking.”

“I’m going to ask you something once. If your answer is no, you’re not allowed to talk about it again.”

Ben frowned. Every time she started a question with a phrase like that, it ended up being something fucking insane. “Okay.” He said shortly, morbid curiosity getting the better of him.

“If you want, you don’t have to, and I don’t expect you to-“

“Quit fucking edging and spit it out.”

She glared at him. “You can stay in here tonight.”

Ben stared at Her, the thing in his chest clawing against him. “What?”

“You can sit in my bed. If you want. I know you won’t sleep, and I won’t sleep well, and I’d probably end up sitting in your room at some point-“

“Why?” Ben cut off Her rambling, frowning.

She held his gaze, her uneven heart the only sign of her nerves. “I don’t-“ she sighed. “I don’t want to be alone. You’d just be sitting here, nothing else. But if you don’t-“

“Fine.” He answered, and the thing in his chest roared.

“Oh,” she paused, and Ben was pretty goddamn sure She’d expected him to say no. “Okay. Good.”

She pulled herself under the covers, looking up at Ben from her back. He didn’t like what that made him feel, and how easy it would be to just pull Her against him and keep her there.

“Thank you.” She said with a small smile. “No insults."

“Whatever,” Ben grumbled, leaning back in a pointless attempt to find a comfortable position. “Just saving you the fucking walk to my room.”

“You’re a saint,” she mumbled sarcastically, eyes drooping. “I’m sure this must have been very hard for you.”

“I’ll live.” He said, watching Her. “I need you functional, Sunshine. Small, stupid fucking price to pay.”

“You need me?” She breathed out, a sleepy smile on her face.

Ben rolled his eyes. “You burn, I burn.” He echoed the words she'd said before. “I’m not going to let you fucking burn. You don’t get away from me that easy.”

“How sweet.” She whispered, eyes fully closing. “I won’t let you burn either, Pretty Boy.”

Ben wanted to protest, and tell Her that he wasn’t sweet, just practical, and he—despite the protests of the thing in his chest—didn’t need her at all. But Her breathing became steady and even, fast asleep in seconds at his side, and he couldn’t fucking bring himself to wake her. So Ben just studied Her sleeping face, not empty, not twisted in pain, a soft smile playing on her lips. He should fucking go, She was asleep and that’s all She’d fucking needed from him. But he stayed in place, and watcher Her like a fucking creep. Her peaceful face, smooth heartbeat, and gentle breaths soothing the thing in his chest. Ben need to get himself under fucking control, he was being fucking pathetic.

But he stayed, all fucking night, unable to move and barely capable of looking away. And the more of the night that passed, the long he watched Her, the more he realized she was pretty. Really fucking pretty. He hadn’t been fucking blind, he’d known she was pretty before. Thought about it more than he’d ever fucking admit. But fuck, this was different. She was really, really goddamn pretty. And then She rolled over, settling so she was comfortably pressed against him, and he realized she was beautiful. Like one of those stupid, overpriced paintings art-pussies in the 70s had tried to sell him. But real. Fucking beautiful, in a way that made him unable to look away, that made him feel fucking stupid.

Beautiful in a way that made him stay at Her side the whole night, frozen on her bed with her body against him, all the way until the sun started to leak into the room.

[shiroganeryo]

DGM 252: New perspectives and confirmations it has given us

⚠️First of all, I'll be tagging this under DGM spoilers so if you have somehow stumbled upon this even if you're avoiding spoilers for Chapter 252 (or the most recent DGM talks as a whole), this is your warning to turn back now!

And secondly, I'm under the effect of allergy meds so please pardon me if I'm talking gibberish 😂 But the latest chapter has given us some food for thought and I've been mulling it over.

There are two points I want to cover in this post; the first one being much extensive while the other is rather short.

1. Bookman Jr.

The reveal that the guy we had thought to be Past!A all along was actually the former Bookman Jr. in one of the best twists Hoshino has given us in a while - she sounded very proud of how we were all misled by her narrative and honestly I tip my hat at her for such genius - has also fueled questions about his identity.

I'll start by saying I do not believe he and Cross are the same person. That's not what I'll be talking about so I'm playing this card right off the bat. This theory, although popular, has always had way too many gaps for my liking and after the latest chapter, the chances are practically null that it's true.

If you want a discussion as to why, this post has put it into words better than I could and I agree 100% with OP's point, hence why I don't see the need to say anything on the matter.

But there's one thing that I'm yet to see people discussing and it's about the talk Lucia had with Joe back in The 222nd Night: Searching for A.W. - Hypokrisis.

(I'm showing what I believe to be the official translated English version by Viz and there's a reason why)

For a long time, people have debated about this small exchange between Lucia and Joe. There's no doubt the one they're talking about is old man Bookman, so we can confidently affirm he's the one waiting at the Campbell Mansion.

And what about Lavi? This is where the next dialogue from Lucia comes into play:

Since this is probably the version a lot of people have read, I must make it clear that the like "Junior, his successor, isn't here" was a mistranslation. Here's the original:

Lucia: Koukeisha to naru Jr. wa mou imasen. (The one who'd become his successor, Jr, is no more.)

I've double-checked with the Brazilian Portuguese translation because it tends to be as close to the original as possible, and surely enough, it's translated correctly:

(image courtesy of the volume I own by my so-so phone camera 😋)

"Junior, who was his heir, is no more."

The literal translation for what Lucia is saying is "isn't among us anymore", but that's an expression in Portuguese that means that someone has died/doesn't walk on Earth anymore.

While the mistranslated English version and the original Japanese/Brazilian version have similar meanings, the way it's worded gives the sentence a completely different meaning: in one we're led to believe Jr. isn't physically there at the Mansion, while the other two make it clear that Jr. has died.

And that's exactly why that, after Chapter 252 dropped, this scene is given a new perspective - because Lucia was referring to the former Bookman Jr, and not the current one.

We don't know the whereabouts of current Lavi - cue in the chair jokes, I unfortunately love them all - and while I might be wrong, I have my reasons to believe he's alive.

It just doesn't feel like Hoshino to kill an important character off-screen, plus she has said we'll see him again eventually and that the mystery of what's behind his eyepatch is still to be revealed (and will only happen once Bookman passes away, something that will possibly happen before the story reaches its end).

I have the feeling Lavi still has much to contribute to the story and he's actually one of the characters that, to me, seem to have the highest odds of making it alive until the end. It also isn't mere coincidence that Bookman picked the same alias for both Juniors, since Lavi has mentioned in a discussion room that the aliases refer to their record logs and the Holy War is being recorded under 'Lavi'. There's unfinished business to be taken care of.

Using the mistranslated version to illustrate was important because I've seen people wondering where Lavi is if not in the Mansion, while others were afraid he has died. He's very likely in a predicament, but dead? I don't think so.

So that only leaves us with one viable subject for that dialogue, that being the former Bookman Jr. (now affectionately dubbed Lavi Sr. by the fandom).

"But how come they didn't know Bookman already had a new apprentice back in Chapter 222 if the Zoogles mentioned it in Chapter 251?"

Yes, it's a little odd. What I can infer from this is that they either 1. Didn't know Bookman already had a new Jr. because he had been unconscious and only after they stabilized his situation they could talk, or 2. Did know about the current Lavi but believe him not to be ready to take on the mantle yet while Lavi Sr. was (but unfortunately deserted the clan).

Since only the Bookman and his appointed apprentice, who was born with the seal, can exchange information and records via their blood, it might be not that off the chart that the Zoogles weren't up-to-date on his affairs since they're not Bookmen themselves but rather a bloodline of people scattered across the globe who are supporters of Bookman's mission like Lucia has explained. Yet, even if they aren't all-knowing, it seems odd for them not to know something as vital as that about the person they're supporting.

And of course, there's also the possibility of option 3, something else that I completely failed to consider right now. Time will tell which one.

Note: By the way, the Lucia in 222 and the Lucia in 251/252 are indeed the same person; Hoshino seemed to hint there's a reason behind her sudden aging that we don't know yet. It's important to make this clear since what I've said is related to dialogues delivered by her.

2. Past!A = current Allen

(image courtesy of Kougeki Scans' Chapter 251's translation)

There were theories around and people still considering the possibility of our current Allen being a clone and all sorts of theories because of the unexplainable age gap between him and Past!A, but it seems the deaging theory has been fully confirmed by Chapter 252, as we saw it taking place before our very eyes.

There are still some mysteries surrounding it, but seeing how Apocryphos mentioned the "Helix", we can't help but be taken back to the explanation we've previously seen about the Helix of Life (The 221st Night - The Clown's Joke).

Since that's a topic that feels like there's more to it as of now, I won't be discussing the how and why Allen deaged, especially with the unseen variable in the mix that is Innocence; who knows if that might make the Helix energy behave differently.

I was on the "deaging theory" train because Nea was able to recognize Past!A all right when he looks in the mirror (The 214th Night: Searching for A.W. - Awakening) and also questioned the presence of Innocence on his body as well as how he hadn't aged but instead had gotten younger (The 215th Night: Searching for A.W. - By Your Side).

There are many mistranslations in the official English version of these two chapters (214 and 215) that have fueled countless misconceptions within the fandom but I won't be pointing those out in this post since I'm not here this time specifically to talk about it.

Note: Mangadex seems to have nicely translated versions of these chapters if you want to check them out for a recalling - I can't confirm fully but what I read of them looked consistent and faithful to the original.

Anyways, back on track; now that we've seen what took place 35 years ago in Chapter 252, Nea's bewilderment at the current situation of Allen back in Chapter 214/215 makes a lot more sense.

And even more interesting is that as soon as he noticed the Innocence lodged into Allen's left hand, we see the image of Apocryphos, as if Nea could feel its presence. Turned out that meant more than just Apocryphos being able to resonate with all Innocence, but rather, that the very reason why that Innocence had found home in Allen's body was by its intervention.

Just what the hell, dude. That was, once again, extremely well-played on Hoshino's part. I'm really looking forward to the next chapter!

[sharonaparadox]

[Video: fan animation focusing on Adam from Hazbin Hotel set to the aforementioned song. The music starts with a classical waltz sound as Alastor sets an old-fashioned cathedral radio down upon a chest of drawers within the hotel, continuing as scenes of the residents happen around it. Charlie and Vaggie are seen smiling at each other as Charlie talks in front of it, Husk is leaning one elbow down against the surface and frowning suspiciously at the radio while casually holding a wine bottle in one hand, Angel is sitting next to it casually with one pair of arms crossed over his lap as he listens to the music with a smile and both eyes closed, Sir Pentious is also seen sitting beside it with his chin resting in both hands as he listens with a wide smile and both eyes closed (though the eye on his hat is looking at the radio happily), the Egg Boiz are grinning with one sitting next to the radio with a hand on it while the others are standing in front with their arms waving in the air, and Niffty is sweeping the ground nearby with a grin.

The shot then zooms in onto the radio as its dark buttons turn red and its dial flips to the left with a beep. The music switches to louder rock music as the scene switches to show Adam grinning and shredding his guitar as he flies up through white clouds. There is a fully-animated shot of him frowning with wide eyes before he turns to the viewer with a wide wicked grin.

The title “Moon Waltz” (stylized in all capital letters) is drawn in white chalk-like lettering against a black background with a messy white border. The credit for the song, “Waltz in E-Major, Op. 15 ‘Moon Waltz’” by Cojum Dip, is provided on the next screen in the same style. The next card credits the artist, Luc doodle, while the last screen in the title sequence warns, “TW: Flashing Lights” in all capital letters.

After the title sequence ends, the first verse starts calmly with “The last time our module would ring you” as Adam looks up from his place on the ground with a soft smile, golden eyes glowing under his upturned eyebrows. The grass of Eden looks purple around the nude man as he sits with his hands propping his upper body off the ground and his knees curled in front of him.

“Like a lunar bell” is sung as Adam suddenly turns in surprise when the silhouetted figure of Eve comes running to him with one hand raised in the air. An apple is shown held up in the palms of two light-skinned hands, a bite already taken from the realistically painted Fruit of Knowledge. Cutting in are impact shots of the apple as a bright red silhouette against dark hands, the background black with a splash of dark red. Adam recoils as the apple is held out by a now dark red arm.

“I’ll see you on the moon,” the song continues as Adam looks down at the apple in his hands with a slight frown, his eyes widened in fear as he sweats nervously. The background is black with dark red blossoming out from behind the apple. As the line ends, however, it brightens back into the light purple of the garden as feathered wings glide by, Adam looking over with what looks less like fear and more like surprise.

The next line goes, “Until we meet at Tycho” as the perspective shifts to show Lucifer up in the dark starry sky, Heaven visible behind him as he turns to look down at Adam, neither of their expressions visible. The point of view turns back to Adam, his eyes shining and his face red as a white feather floats down in front of him.

The verse ends with “And follow the trail” as it focuses on the apple in Adam’s hand before a beep plays and he quickly brings it to his mouth, the scene turning black with Adam only a bright red silhouette as he bites into it. There is a brief shot of the apple as a red shape floating in the darkness before the scene turns entirely dark.

The music kicks up again as the pre-chorus starts with “Synodic season to come out of hiding” as Adam and Lute stand together grinning in front of a startled Charlie in the present day. Adam is playing guitar as he and his lieutenant lean forward, Adam narrowing his eyes malevolently.

The next line goes, “Why’d it take so long” as Adam holds up one of Charlie’s crayon drawings of demons smiling in front of the Hazbin Hotel with a rainbow over it. He frowns with one eyebrow raised before turning away with a grin, both eyes closed as he casually tosses the paper over his shoulder. Charlie darts forward across the table to grab the paper as it floats down and brings it closer to herself as she looks down at it with a small sad frown. Charlie then looks forward with a glare as she grips the paper tightly, her eyes turning red and demonic horns sprouting from her forehead as Adam flies past her.

The song continues with “Inching out of orbit dividing” as Adam and Lute turn to face each other in the air to fist-bump, Charlie still glaring as she watches on.

“Where did I go wrong,” the song asks as Adam clasps his hands in front of himself with a mocking smile. As the music progresses to the chorus, Adam smugly points to a paper held up in a grinning Lute’s hand that reads, in all capital letters, “Nowhere! Never! Angels don’t make mistakes” The handwriting is messy, and the last word is hyphenated so it can continue underneath where it hit the edge of the paper. At the bottom are sketches of a grinning Adam and a Cool S with scribbled-out attempts around the latter. Adam then flips both middle fingers before flying upward, startling Charlie as her demonic features revert to normal.

The song croons, “I’ll see you on the moon” as Adam outstretches his arms and wings to each side.

This continues with “Where we’re throwing a party,” though a quick shot flickers in showing Adam in the same position but surrounded by his exorcists as they all grin widely, many of them only seen as faces peering out from the shadows. This is almost entirely in black and grey except for the gold of Adam’s wings and halo as well as the facial features of his mask.

“And as you’re gasping for the last of air,” continues the song as Adam looks down on Charlie, once again glaring with her demonic features out as she burns the paper in her hands. Adam points back to himself with his thumb as Charlie looks on angrily.

As the next line goes, “You’ll tra-la-la-la-la,” however, Adam grins and gestures with his thumb as if slitting his throat. Impact shots cut in turning Adam into a mostly black and white silhouette aside from the gold on his mask (briefly inverting to mostly white and black) while a blood splatter flies from the side of his neck. This soon disappears, but another similar streak of red is shown beside Charlie’s neck as she looks up in fear, her demonic features now gone entirely as she raises a hand to her own throat. A quick shot cuts in showing her as a black silhouette (briefly inverting to white) with bright red accents, particularly her eyes with shrunken pupils, against a red background.

The song continues, “You give me fifty-nine percent from libration” as Adam steps down the clouds above the meeting table with a faux-solemn expression, one hand raised pointing upward while his other is reaching forward. Charlie is glowering as Adam stops in front of her, leaning down with his elbow resting on her shoulder to get face-to-face with her with the same insincere expression, before he flies back upward, leaving Charlie to deepen her scowl.

The chorus ends with “We dance in synchronous rotation” as Adam, grinning widely with his arms outstretched, rises in front of a black circle with red outlining its border and the lines within dividing it into sections. A banner at the top reads, “Extermination” in all capital letters with messy sketches of Lute and Adam on each side (the former with a note pointing to it helpfully explaining who the drawing is supposed to represent). Scenes flip onto the upper section showing silhouettes of exorcists slaughtering demons, flying down from a portal, and glaring at the viewer. This last image has a mostly red background, unlike the others that mostly had red accents against white backgrounds, and clearly shows Vaggie wearing her exorcist mask.

The second verse starts calmly with “The image we see of you has been” as Adam and Lute walk together casually, the former sipping a drink from a straw through his mask while the latter is unmasked and smiling. Vaggie and Charlie then walk past in the foreground, Charlie grinning excitedly as she grabs her frowning girlfriend’s hand to pull her forward. The vocals creak a little while Adam looks forward with wide eyes.

A beep plays before the next line continues with “Just a little late” and the two angels are seen from behind as they watch Charlie and Vaggie walk away.

The next line is “There is no atmosphere” as the scene shifts to show them in court, Adam leaning forward with a grin and Lute crossing her arms with a smirk.

“To wear down any sharpness,” continues the song as the two narrow their eyes smugly.

A beep plays before the next line of “It’s not how long you wait” while the scene pans over to Charlie and Vaggie across from them. There is a close-up shot of Charlie looking up with a determined expression that hardens into a glare. Another beep plays to end the verse.

The music kicks up again, represented in the video by Adam’s guitar floating in above his hand, as the pre-chorus starts with “Synodic season to come out of hiding.” Adam and Lute are both standing atop the viewing orb, Lute masked and glaring with her arms crossed while Adam is grinning maliciously with his arm out to grab his guitar. They are then shown closer up, both grinning as Adam plays his guitar. As the music plays, the scene switches to Sera looking down with a frown. She looks to Emily at her side, who is watching the scene below sadly. Sera then turns back, her frown tense as she sweats nervously.

The next line goes, “Why’d it take so long” as Adam and Lute lean forward with wide grins. Adam then shreds on his guitar as the singer vocalizes some nonsense syllables. The music continues as Adam flies down to land in front of Charlie, grinning malevolently as Charlie scowls back with her shoulders set. The focus shifts to Vaggie beside her, sweating uncomfortably as she looks up at Adam with a wide eye and a small worried frown. Sera is once again shown sweating nervously as she reaches an arm out and tries to speak.

The song continues with “Inching out of orbit dividing” as Adam leans over Charlie, the viewing orb behind them changing to show a scene of exorcists slaughtering sinners. Behind Adam are the angels flying down from a portal against a light golden background, while Charlie’s side shows demons screaming in pain and fear against a black and bright red background. As the singer vocalizes more nonsense syllables, the scene switches rapidly between reaction shots of Emily covering her mouth in horror, Sera fearfully frowning with shrunken irises in her wide eyes as she sweats, a pair of angels looking at each other in shock, Charlie looking up quizzically, another pair of angels looking at each other with what looks like sadness while another nearby them looks down with stunned wide eyes, Lute looking down with exasperation, and finally Charlie turning to look up in surprise. This quick sequence ends with Adam still grinning, seemingly oblivious, as Charlie looks up at Sera, who has all six of her wings spread out to the sides.

“Where did I go wrong,” the song asks as Adam turns to look up, his grin now nervous as he sweats uncomfortably. Sera narrows her eyes, red visible in her shrunken irises as she glares, matching the splashes of red around her against the black background. Adam continues grinning for a moment longer before dropping his head and frowning sadly.

The bridge starts calmly with “A wise woman said I’m alive” as Adam materializes with golden rings of light around him. He appears to be wearing only a stained, possibly bloodied, white toga as he looks up with eyes widened in surprise, dark undereye circles visible as he frowns. The perspective changes to show the kneeling man from behind as Sera appears before him with her wings and arms outstretched to each side.

“Nobody’s ever told her she’s wrong,” continues the song as Sera looks down with a warm smile. Adam’s face crumples, tears building in his eyes as a halo glows above his head and golden wings unfurl from behind him. The tears begin to fall down as his wings stretch out in full to each side.

The next line is “A paella of space-talking jive” as Sera raises one hand to her mouth in shock. Adam tries to wipe away his tears while Sera looks down in concern.

The song goes on with “I’m as alive as her beard is long” as Adam continues wiping at his face before looking up when Sera reaches a hand to him. He rushes up into her arms, wrapping his arms around her waist as Sera places a comforting hand atop Adam’s head with her other around his shoulders. He hugs her tightly as he sobs.

The song croons, “I’ll see you on the moon” as Adam, now dressed for battle with his exorcists, points forward with an excited grin while the army flies ahead with weapons at the ready. They are then seen pouring out of a portal in the sky next to the Hazbin Hotel.

The song continues with “Where we’re throwing a party” as Adam perches atop the hotel’s sign to face down Alastor, both grinning confidently at each other. There are close-up shots of both before Adam flies forward to slice at the radio demon with his guitar, breaking the staff of Alastor’s microphone and cutting him across the chest. Quick impact shots of red emphasize the blood splatters, while one shot has the two mostly in silhouette with gold and red accents.

“And as you’re gasping for the last of air,” continues the song as Adam stands with his bloodied guitar to his side and Alastor retreats into his shadow.

As the next line goes, “You’ll tra-la-la-la-la,” Adam leans forward against his guitar and mockingly waves goodbye.

The song continues, “Twirling moon dust abound” as Charlie stabs Adam in the side of his chest and spins him around on her trident to slam him against a skylight, the glass cracking behind him as Charlie fumes with her demonic features out. Similar impact shots as those from the previous battle can be seen, though Adam’s blood is golden in contrast to the red silhouette of Charlie’s weapon. Adam reaches up with one hand to touch his wound, looking at the golden blood as if confused and offended before glaring at Charlie with his bloodied hand out in front of him.

The next line is “Lung destruction is starting” as Adam lifts Charlie up by her neck, his other hand clenched into a fist behind him as he laughs triumphantly. Charlie looks enraged as she struggles against his grip on her throat. The perspective then shifts to show Adam’s grinning face.

As the next line goes, “Take your suit off and swim in maria,” however, a fist comes in from the side to punch Adam, shattering part of his mask. He is then shown pulling himself up, half of his face now visible as he grimaces. He pulls himself forward and opens his eyes slightly. There is a fully-animated close-up shot of his eyes widening, the iris of his human eye shrunken while the eye of his mask visibly reflects the multiple wings of the new combatant. The perspective changes to show Lucifer glaring down at Adam as he holds his daughter in both arms, Heaven visible behind him.

“I’ll see you on the moon,” the song again croons as a close-up shot pans up Lucifer’s face full of hatred while Charlie looks up at her father with a warm, relieved smile.

The song continues with “There’s already a party” as Adam and Lucifer face each other, both with their wings outstretched. Lucifer is grinning mockingly with his hands behind his back, and Adam is glaring back in rage. There is a quick shot of Adam looking furious as he grabs at where Lucifer, transformed into a snake, is wrapped around his throat. After this is an impact shot of a silhouetted Adam firing a golden beam of holy light downward as Lucifer dodges. Halos of stars and rays are behind Adam and his beam against the bright red background. Charlie is then shown in full color falling down from the red into a black background before her father dives to catch her. The two smile in relief as he holds her up, though Charlie’s eyes widen in surprise as a shadowed Adam flies in behind them.

“And as you’re gasping for the last of air,” continues the song as Charlie reaches back over her startled father’s shoulder with an oversized demonic hand to catch a shocked Adam’s fist. Impact shots cut in, and a similar starry halo can be seen in the background before Adam is tossed to the dark red ground.

As the next line goes, “You’ll tra-la-la-la-la,” a bright explosion can be seen as Adam makes an impact.

The song continues, “No es la locura” as a now unmasked Adam drags himself out of the crater, blood on his face and robes. He is seen from behind as he looks at the glaring Morningstars, Charlie covered in red and golden blood while Lucifer only has minor amounts of golden blood on his front. Heaven can be seen in the bright red background above Lucifer.

The next line is “En realidad” as Adam wipes the blood from his nose.

The line continues with “Es el amor” as scenes play out as silhouettes against bright red backgrounds: Charlie stabbing Adam with her trident, Lucifer punching Adam and shattering the side of his mask, Lucifer as a snake strangling Adam (who looks frightened instead of furious in this shot), and finally Niffty clinging to the back of a shocked Adam’s robes as she holds up a dagger, ready to stab.

The next line is “Now that you’ve heard it all” as the screen focuses and unfocuses on a blood-covered Adam in front of a black background. He is looking down with a small frown as he pitches forward onto the ground.

The song draws to an end with “There is the door” as Lute, blood running from where one of her arms used to be, kneels beside Adam with a look of anguish as she grabs at him to turn him over. Adam is against a black background as he looks up with a light frown. Lute looks down with tears building up in her wide eyes, irises shrunken as her frown wobbles. Heaven can be seen behind her against the bright red background.

The background turns white as Adam looks up from his place on the ground with a soft smile, golden eyes glowing under his upturned eyebrows. The perspective from above shows Lute still beside Adam’s body, golden blood glowing against the bright red background. Dark red curtains close over the scene.

At the end, laughter plays over a black and white scene of Lucifer and Adam in Eden. The two are sitting cross-legged on the ground amongst many ducklings, Lucifer laughing and watching Adam as the human guffaws with his hand against the side of his face. End description.]

MOON WALTZ ANIMATIC !!!

(song: Waltz in E-Major, Op. 15 "Moon Waltz" by Cojum Dip)

(also on youtube!)

[marnerparty]

he’s the beauty & she’s the beast

Cole Caufield x Bissonnette!reader Best friend!Trevor Zegras & Jamie Drysdale x Bissonnette!reader

ynbissonnette

Liked by colecaufield, user1 and 24,717 others

ynbissonnette went golfing w/ tweedle dee & tweedle dum

tagged trevorzegras and jamie.drysdale

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user1 livin’ the dream

jackhughes posers

ynbissonnette we’re actually all models thank you very much

jamie.drysdale dibs on tweedle dee

trevorzegras NO! I am NOT dum!

ynbissonnette it’s okay Trevor honey. embrace it

biznasty still hanging with these kids eh

ynbissonnette yes, clearly

biznasty don’t get smart with me

ynbissonnette don’t ask stupid questions

trevorzegras yn is the only person biz let’s talk back to him

biznasty fuck you Zegras

user2 I wish I was golfing with them

jamie.drysdale well I can tell you you would’ve beaten Trevor

lhughes_06 was the blue planned orrr

trevorzegras ACTUALLY they planned it w/out me and I happened to also wear blue

jamie.drysdale false

ynbissonnette not without you … just separate

trevorzegras next time me & yn against biz & whit

ynbissonnette oh it’s fucking on

biznasty Zegras I’ll kick your ass like I did last time w/ you and the cock

ynbissonnette plz don’t call him that

jamie.drysdale 🤨

colecaufield cute

ynbissonnette 🙃

biznasty uh back up

ynbissonnette no can do daddio

user3 I ship yn and cole

Liked by ynbissonnette

ryanwhitney6 biz, man, she’s going to the dark side

biznasty I’m getting ready to disown her

ynbissonnette because I’m friends with Trevor and Jamie!?

ryanwhitney6 precisely

biznasty yep.

cam.york ok but who won?

trevorzegras …

jamie.drysdale no comment.

cam.york YN!?

ynbissonnette what can I say?

colecaufield

Liked by biznasty, _slafkovsky_, and 43,665 others

colecaufield gang’s all here

tagged jackhughes and trevorzegras

View all 341 comments

user1 THE BAND IS BACK THE BAND IS BACK

elblue6 my favorite guys

colecaufield Ellen 🥹

_quinnhughes gee thanks mom

jackhughes it’s not about you Quinn

ynbissonnette Quinn you know you’re the favorite

jackhughes it’s been fun again boys

trevorzegras agreed.

colecaufield best part of the weekend fellas

ynbissonnette best part huh?

trevorzegras ope-

kdach77 uh oh Coley

colecaufield I can explain?

biznasty looks like fun. did I exceed an age limit or something?

colecaufield sorry Biz 😬

user2 Trevor 😍😍😍

ynbissonnette same.

colecaufield ??????

ynbissonnette 🤷🏼‍♀️

jamie.drysdale trouble in paradise?

colecaufield it’s all in good fun

colecaufield … right yn?

ynbissonnette yes you dork

lhughes_06 this is gross

jamie.drysdale it’s okay, me and yn had fun on our own

ynbissonnette still can’t believe we weren’t invited tbh. we’re less important than we thought

trevorzegras here we fucking go

jackhughes can’t we have ONE weekend????

ynbissonnette no

ryanwhitney6 now see where she gets it from?

biznasty oh now I know you’re not saying she got it from me

ryanwhitney6 uh huh. that’s exactly what I’m saying

biznasty 🖕🏻

biznasty I only like Drysdale and Caufield now

_alexturcotte that’ll get cut down to just Drysdale reaaaaal soon

biznasty what the hell does that mean

_alexturcotte 🤐

ynbissonnette Jack I’m so happy your tooth is back 🥰

jackhughes I love yn. she’s the ONLY ONE WHO SAID SOMETHING

trevorzegras you always look pretty to me so I just looked past it

john.marino97 ayo?

ynbissonnette what tf happened this weekend?

user3 yn is perf

Liked by colecaufield

ynbissonnette

Liked by barzal97, nhl, and 45,761 others

ynbissonnette NHL awards or whatever

tagged colecaufield

View all 271 comments

jamie.drysdale HARD LAUNCH!?

ynbissonnette 🫣

colecaufield 🤐

jamie.drysdale fine be like that

_quinnhughes Cole pulled yn??

colecaufield thanks Quinn 😐

ynbissonnette Quinn’s my biggest hype man

trevorzegras besties clean up nice

ynbissonnette 🫶🏻

nhl one of the best dressed couples there!

Liked by ynbissonnette and colecaufield

user1 what will biz say?

trevorzegras that’s what we’re all waiting for

ynbissonnette I’m not

trevorzegras scared?

ynbissonnette fuck you Trevor

trevorzegras COLE YN’S BEING MEAN

colecaufield i will not get in the middle of your problems

user2 who noticed mat liked?🤔

ynbissonnette it was a one time thing 🤷🏼‍♀️

jackhughes WHAT

biznasty uh DOUBLE WHAT

ynbissonnette surprise?

ryanwhitney6 YOU & THE COCK!?

ynbissonnette I hate that nickname

ynbissonnette but yes

ryanwhitney6 well is the nickname true … 😏

biznasty FOR THE LOVE OF GOD DON’T ANSWER THAT

trevorzegras I’ll answer ✋🏻

jackhughes uh weird.

biznasty I guess if it had to be anyone I’m glad it’s Caufield

colecaufield really?🥹

trevorzegras woah woah woah. I thought you liked me the most

biznasty not for my daughter bud

trevorzegras wtf why!?

ynbissonnette I’m not a whore!

colecaufield

Liked by ryanwhitney6, nsuzuki_37, and 62,918 others

colecaufield next thing you know …

tagged ynbissonnette

View all 401 comments

ynbissonnette I love you 🫶🏻

lhughes_06 welp, there goes my chance

colecaufield you can still have me Lukey 💕

lhughes_06 I meant w/ yn

ynbissonnette BAHAHAHAHAHA

ynbissonnette don’t worry Luke, nothing will come between us

adamfantilli 🤨

lhughes_06 inside joke

ynbissonnette “joke”

biznasty EW

biznasty MY EYES

biznasty THATS MY DAUGHTER

colecaufield 🫣

tysmith_6 damn Caufield’s pullin’

colecaufield it’s my smile

nsuzuki_37 no it isn’t

nsuzuki_37 🐓

nhl congrats on the new purchase!

user1 who knew someone could tie him down?

trevorzegras what about us 🥹

colecaufield we have a room for you

ynbissonnette he’s not kidding. it’s strictly for you

jamie.drysdale and a room for me of course, right?

ynbissonnette listen jame …

jamie.drysdale you’re dead to me

ryanwhitney6 I knew I liked this kid

colecaufield 🥹

jackhughes when whit is more supportive of Yn’s relationships than biz

ynbissonnette Jack ain’t wrong

biznasty okay but youre my baby

_alexturcotte awwwwwwww

_quinnhughes biz is soft

elblue6 not to make things awkward here … but do we need to go over lake house rules?

jackhughes MOM

ynbissonnette ELLEN

elblue6 it had to be said!

colecaufield Ellen, I will have you know that as long as I am under your roof no such things you are implying will be taking place.

elblue6 that’s good. I can always trust you my Cole

lhughes_06 🙄

user2 I hope they break up

trevorzegras same.

biznasty

Liked by ynbissonnette, canadiensmtl, and 71,871 others

bizbasty now you might be thinking, wow Biz, this isn’t like you at all to be a sap like this. and you’re right. but when it comes to yn, I get to be as sappy as I want because she’ll always be my little girl. this kid right here makes her as happy as I’ve ever seen her. I never thought I’d be saying this, but I actually approve of this one. Caufield, you’re a great kid. thanks for keeping yn in check

tagged colecaufield and ynbissonnette

Comments on this post have been limited

ryanwhitney6 BIZ YOU’RE SUPPOSED TO BE BAD COP

biznasty yeah yeah hop off my dick

ynbissonnette love you Dad 🫶🏻

trevorzegras i love you too Dad 🫶🏻

biznasty I love you ❤️ you too Zegras

trevorzegras this is it. I’ve peaked.

user1 biz is a softy for yn

Liked by biznasty

colecaufield 1 v 1 later?

biznasty if you wanna get your ass beat

colecaufield oh yeah?

biznasty no you’ll win

trevorzegras 🤯 BIZ WHAT

ryanwhitney6 holy shit

biznasty ?????

ryanwhitney6 you admitted defeat. you said someone would beat you

biznasty I hate you two

trevorzegras you loved me a minute ago?

biznasty well I’m back to hating you

[incorrectmahabharatquotes]

Recently I saw this post by @god-has-adhd (I'm not reblogging it because I saw the people they tagged and realised very quickly that it's quite likely that us reblogging the post will be unwelcome, to put it mildly. I'm tagging the OP here anyway since it's a direct response to the post and it seemed only fair to engage in the conversation. I hope they don't mind.) OP urged everyone to watch the video regardless of the political leaning so in the spirit of giving everything a fair shot, we watched it. 'We' here refers to both me and Mod G. There are things we agree on with the guy speaking in the video and there are things we disagree with/think he didn't properly research. However, there is one thing that's most relevant to this blog and to me, personally so I'll be talking primarily about it. This is your long post warning, I'm afraid.

------------

"The Real Story of Eklavya"

The context for people who haven't watched the video is that the guy brings up two stories, one of Satyakama Jabali from the Upanishads and that of Eklavya from the Mahabharata. He brings up both these stories in the context of caste, he helpfully titles it and everything.

What I found interesting is that he frames himself talking about the story with the words "The real story of Eklavya". If you know even the basics of storytelling or filmmaking, you know that this is quite important. This implies that you, the viewer, do not know the real story and the one you know is either incomplete or false.

He begins, in a memorable instance, by asking ChatGPT for a summary to grasp the popular interpretation of the story of Eklavya and Drona. I have THOUGHTS about using a machine learning tool that is trained on data that is infamously biased and lacking when it comes to anything that isn't American, but that would be digressing from the point. ChatGPT provides him a summary that mentions that Eklavya was denied Drona's tutelage because he was of a lower caste. After this, the guy proceeds to recite the lines where Eklavya is mentioned in the Adi parva of the Sanskrit Mahabharat that we refer to as Vyasa's Mahabharat. He expresses surprise at how Eklavya is introduced as being the son of the "king" of the nishads (I think leader is a better word that should've been used but the Sanskrit text has a notorious habit of having just really questionable ways of referring to people, if you've read it you know.) Which is found HILARIOUS. Bro, what do you mean you're surprised? This is COMMON knowledge, I fear.

He mentions how being the son of the nishaad's leader/king effectively puts him on the same level as Arjun and that they're both princes. He says that this means Eklavya isn't shudra or dalit (there is a word that's curiously absent here that I'll mention in a bit.) Now, this one of those parts where the choice information he presents the viewer with is bizarre. Since I promised I'll give it a fair shot, I'm giving him the benefit of the doubt and assume this is a fault of him not researching enough and not willful omission. Maybe he just doesn't know. The information he's given here is correct, mostly. What he DOESN'T explain is who the nishads, as a group are. I'll fill in the blanks for him.

The nishad are said to be a group of tribal people who reside in the hills. The text he reads out even has the word "tribal" in it but the guy sort of glosses over it? The nishads are sort of like an aggregate grouping of different tribal populations and not the name of a specific tribe. Kind of. But the mention is still significant. See, the Mahabharata, especially the Sanskrit text, has this Thing™ that it does where it's incredibly rare to find a mention of tribal populations who are said to be human, many of the other mentioned tribal groups are demi-humans or non-humans or just straight up rakshahsas.

Eklavya is said to be the adopted son of Hiranyadhanus, the aforementioned king/leader of the nishads. The Harivamsa Purana part of the Sanskrit text (which is a giant-ass genealogy section where it traces the family line from the start of existence to the birth of Krishna) mentions that biologically he's the son of Devashrava, Vasudev's brother, which makes him Krishna's cousin by blood. Eklavya was abandoned by Devashrava in the forest and Hiranyadhanus found him and raised him as his own.

This makes Eklavya a tribal boy, I would use the word adivasi but people might disagree so I'll just say he has a tribal heritage, not by blood but by his upbringing. The man in the video says that Eklavya isn't a shudra, or dalit or untouchable, which is technically true. There's a missing word here that's doing a lot of heavy lifting for him, though. He says that Eklavya is a Kshatriya, which is DEBATEABLE because in the epic we've seen time and time again that blood doesn't matter and it's the society that does. With this, hopefully not to y'all, new information we might understand how the guy's assertion that Arjuna and Eklavya are on equal footing is shaky at best.

He continues to explain that in the text the reasoning why Drona refuses Eklavya is because he'd already promised he'd make Arjun The Best Archer. Since, he's bound by obligation to the Kurus, he can't afford to let Eklavya outshine his kuru students. The man proceeds to assert that in the text there is no caste-based discrimination happening here. Ergo, he concludes, the story of Eklavya doesn't have a caste aspect to it. If you believe otherwise, you're uneducated and need to learn the Truth and not fall into Propoganda. (I'm trying to be charitable to the guy but his tone when he says the word "propoganda" is dripping with disdain and it's making it very hard for me to remain charitable.) He ends this section this way.

This guy says he's given you all the facts. He's cited his source and he's said the complete truth. He hasn't. In this man's viewpoint, the complete and true Mahabharat is the Sanskrit text. Which, as you know, ISN'T what the entirety of the Mahabharat is and claiming that it is is a narrow perspective to see it. (Which is FUNNY considering this guy has a whole section towards the end of the video about Nuance and it's ironic that he's unwilling to provide the same nuance about the epic to his trusting audience.) Maybe he just isn't insane enough like me to know that it isn't the entire Mahabharat. It's possible.

There is a viewpoint that declares that the Sanskrit Text is the primary source and everything else isn't "canon". There's a SPECIFIC word for it but I will not say it because it's like a boogeyman word on hindublr, at least, so I'll omit the word in this post. This man, from what I've seen, shares this viewpoint.

I disagree.

The Mahabharat, is first and foremost a collection of oral traditions of storytelling that were written down much later. This means that the entire corpus of work that is this mammoth of an epic consists of the thousands of written texts, poetry, plays, songs, folk tales, recently it also includes cinematic adaptations, bedtime stories that your elders might have told you, and lastly, popular culture for better or for worse. This is my viewpoint and I feel it provides for a much better lens to engage with the story. Otherwise, you're denying the story of the rich tradition and heritage it was forged in.

The guy in the video wonders why the story of Eklavya is more popular than Satyakama Jabali and there are a lot of reasons for it. First is that the epic is simply more popular and, in many ways, more fun than the upanishad stories. Second is that the story of Eklavya captured people's minds because it's a story that has strife and the ending is unsatisfactory. Tragedies inspire emotions and connection in a way that comedies do not. There are many more reasons but I'll stop listing them.

It's not a coincidence or happenstance that there are caste dynamics added in the popular interpretation of the story. There are even seeds of this in the Sanskrit text, if this guy is truly only looking at that alone, Eklavya being a tribal kid, the way his physical appearance is described in the text, the way he's stopped from sharing a space with the kuru princes etc. If a variety of people who have historically faced similar things especially when it comes to education and find themselves mirrored in Eklavya? That's not Propaganda, as the guy puts it. It's just how stories naturally evolve and grow. It's people reading between the lines. There's no conspiracy at play. Just people finding something to relate to when they cannot relate to any other character.

I can write essays on how caste and varna show up in the Mahabharat (and I might, if even ONE person asks me for it) but to sum it down, it's a task of examining exactly who and what KIND of people are absent from the story. The Invisible People, if you will. You can count on your fingers how many shudra, dalit and adivasi figures are in the Mahabharat.

Drona is a teacher who fails at being a teacher in this instance. (The Mahabharat in many ways is a story of people failing to do their Duty. There's a certain peacock feather wearing guy who does a whole song and dance about it. It can cover a whole book. It's quite popular. Maybe you've heard of it?) Even if you ignore the caste dynamics reading of it, you cannot deny that the man just sucked at being a teacher in that moment when he denied education to a student, whatever his reasoning may be. He brutally asks for the kid to maim himself and again, even the Sanskrit text describes this action of Drona as cruel. He creates a barrier for Eklavya to stop him from continuing to practice his archery.

It's not surprising that Drona is read as a stand in for an education system that sucks at being an education system that does its job. Again, it's not a conspiracy or propaganda. It's people trying to connect to a story through the prism of their life experiences.

It is not my place to tell people what to believe and what not to believe. It's not the guy in the video's either, despite what he says. People's interpretations are personal to them. What is my place is to remind people that it's wrong to deny people their interpretations. There are versions and interpretations of the story that I hate or dislike but I'm not standing here and telling you they're not the Truth. This is the nuance that Mahabharat requires that the guy lacks. This is also why I believe his sources and research is lacking in this department.

------------

Beyond Eklavya

There's a lot of other thoughts and things I want to share about the rest of the video. I'll try to summarise the highlights.

There's a part where he doesn't understand what systemic patriarchy means, exactly, even though he himself gave an EXCELLENT example of it towards the start of the video with Satyakama Jabali's mother's heritage not being considered when it comes to his gotra. It was frustrating because he SAID it. He said the perfect example himself. I almost thought he set it up as a complete circle moment but he hadn't.

I appreciate him bringing a Shaivite perspective because I'm honestly tired of so much Vaishnavism at all times. I love to see different schools of Hinduism actually being practiced and not just one dominating and subsuming the others.

Towards the start of the video, Mod G predicted that the man would go on a "Periyar sucks" rant and I was so delighted that G was so right.

The guy in the video neglects to look at any contemporary research and scholarship about the linguistics and the Aryan migration theory(which he calls the invasion theory, obviously) including the genetic studies.

There's a funny bit where whenever the guy mentions Ambedkar he has to assert that he thinks Ambedkar is anti-hindu. Even when he's praising him. It happened multiple times.

-------------

TL;DR The man in the video fails to provide his viewers with the full picture about the story of Eklavya even when he claims he is.

- Mod S

ALSO

The structure of his arguments are poor especially in the section where he talks about why the North-South divide came about. Does he not know about the field of linguistics and how root languages are established? Telugu as a language has a 'Dravidian' (he seems to hate that word, even though Dravida is not just the anglo word for the southern parts of India) root because of certain features it has. Notice how North Indian languages use Gender. And then, notice how Southern/central or even Adivasi languages use gender. One main reason why Dravidian languages have been speculated to have another root language different to Sankskrit is the counting systems. Its not wrong to say Telugu has sanskrit INFLUENCE, but again, look at WHICH people within the language group use that type of Telugu (spoiler alert, its the 'proper' upper castes). He dismisses that entirely and makes it a whole issue about how the North South divide happened.

Its very clear to me that he has no intention of representing any of the counter arguments to his premise in an honest manner and is instead single mindedly trying to create more propaganda.

-Mod G

[mangokabuto]

Proof of Usopp and Nami being Luffy’s vice/co captains? I would (genuinely!) love to see your thoughts and evidence, bc big agree

(Context:)

Hello anonymous tumblr-using friend!

As someone with a lot of knowledge of & a great passion for real-life historical piracy, I have VERY STRONG OPINIONS about how the Strawhat crew would fit into an actual golden age crew structure. When I said "I have proof" I was jokingly referring to my knowledge of historical piracy and how the characters slot into those trends, not any sort of "in-anime/manga proof" of Usopp and Nami being ""co-captains"" with Luffy, so if that's what you're here for then sorry lol.

BUT if you want to learn a little about golden age western-world piracy, (and my "au" of sorts for how each crewmate would be recognized in that context,) stick around! :)

(extremely long explanation under cut LMFAO)

First off, as i said in my heated/j tags, "captain" did not usually mean what Oda makes it mean in OP's world. I am ABSOLUTELY CERTAIN Oda is just as passionate about & did plenty of research about historical piracy, and is clearly pulling a little from wakō history, but mostly from golden-age western piracy (specifically mostly the post-spanish succession period, to my estimation).

That being said. Why he puts so much emphases on Captains and First Mates is BEYOND me, because irl they were not as important.

The captain WAS important, don't get me wrong, but they weren't the sole reigning commander of a ship. They were more like a figurehead, most of the time. This is a sortof flimsy metaphor, but think of Captains like the modern-day king or queen of England; They're hyped up as the #1 leader, they're an important charismatic face for the group, and they technically have last-say on important matters, but they are beholden to two other groups (like the cabinet and the prime minister).

During the golden age of piracy, most crews were commanded by a group of three people. These three people were usually the Captain, the Quartermaster, and the Bosun. Each filled a different role on the ship, and all three were democratically elected by the crew. In all important matters, the three would discuss together how to proceed/solve the current problem, and though the Captain COULD overrule the other two at any time, that typically got him handily shoved overboard via mutiny. By technicality there was a heirarchy of power between the three stations, (with Captain usually being the top dog, then the Quartermaster, then the Bosun just above the rest of the crew,) but in practice they held equal sway in decisions that would effect the entire crew.

HOWEVER, outside of "big crew-wide decision-making moments" where you needed to assemble the three leaders, they didn't always have to coordinate. Depending on what situation the crew was currently in, one of them would be de-facto in charge of the crew, and the other two would step back unless the one currently in charge did something that needed to be challenged, like they made a bad decision or (in a more extreme case) broke the articles.

The Captain was in charge during times of battle. The captain's primary role was as a fighter, performer, and military commander! If the crew was attacked or about to attack someone else, the Captain would immediately take charge. (Now, real pirates weren't actually violent in practice as frequently as pop culture would have you believe, but that's a whole other topic. The reason "performer" is listed in the Captain's "jobs" is that part of their responsibility as a captain worth their salt was to scare enemies into surrendering without a fight through theatrics and reputation.)

The Bosun was in charge when the Boat was damaged or needed upkeep. The Bosun was not always the greatest carpenter or shipwright in their own right (in fact, in larger crews, they usually weren't either of those things), but they would be the one to get together with the shipwright and worksmen and assess damage, organize repair teams, and keep the boat running as well as possible. The crew followed their lead during repairs, and they were the go-to authority on any matters concerning the physical boat.

The Quartermaster was in charge the rest of the time. The way the Bosun is in charge of the physical boat, the Quartermaster was in charge of the crew. They were responsible for enforcing the articles, dealing out discipline, and the crew's general well-being outside of battle. In that same way that a bosun didn't have to be a shipwright, a quartermaster wasn't usually a doctor or cook, but they worked closely with them. Being in charge outside times of battle meant that the Quartermaster was also in charge of headings and navigation, and more often than not they were the ship's navigator, or head navigation/deck officer if their crew was large enough to have more than one nav. They also usually handled the crew's finances/pay and cargo. Is this starting to sound familiar yet.

So. After establishing the roles. I don't think I have to persuade you that while Luffy is most definitely the Strawhat Captain, Nami is our Quartermaster and Usopp is our Bosun. At the VERY LEAST this is true on the Merry Go.

You could possibly persuade me that Franky takes Usopp's place as Bosun once they get the Thousand Sunny, but I would be hard to convince. (I could be persuaded that Usopp loses his position as bosun on the Sunny, but Franky does not behave like a bosun as much as a head carpenter, and Usopp functions like his carpenter's mate. It's almost like, post-timeskip, they don't have a bosun anymore, and Zoro fills the newly empty position on the leadership trio?)

Now, these roles are not concrete, and they didn't always make up the "management trio" on a pirate ship. Some very small crews just didn't have enough people that they needed to single out their three favorite guys; they could just all vote on important decisions together. Sometimes the management trio included the surgeon or the first mate instead of the bosun. There were many crews where the Quartermaster was considered the top-dog highest authority instead of the Captain at all times. Even during the golden age pirate crews varied greatly, but the Captain/Quartermaster/Bosun trio was most common.

As for the ship hierarchy, there was a trend you could rely on no matter who the "three leaders" were. Everyone was generally considered of equal importance on a crew, (hence the elected offices and avenue for mutiny,) but there was a chain of command of sorts? Or at least people who would be shown greater respect and responsibility based on what they provided for the crew:

Captain and/or Quartermaster

Bosun and/or Surgeon/Doctor, and sometimes the First Mate

Everybody else, including captain's other mates.

Speaking of Captain's Mates... On larger crews, every important role on the ship had a "mate," or an apprentice chosen by the person in question to replace them if they should die, or otherwise be out-of-commission. Quartermaster's Mate. Bosun's Mate. Doctor/Surgeon's Mate. Carpenter's Mate. Etc. However, the Captain had MULTIPLE MATES, because his job was front-line combat focused. Ergo, he could easily die and need a replacement. Quickly. And his replacement could need a sudden replacement! So, depending on the size of the crew, the captain could have anywhere from two to eight mates, who were ranked by number. That's why the captain's highest-ranking mate is called the First Mate. Because there was usually a Second Mate. And then some more of em.

The First Mate's job is to be a good ass fighter, and back the Captain up on whatever they're currently doing. They hype the Captain up and enforce the Captain's decisions, no matter what that decision is. This is why they were usually not put in the management trio on most crews, cause you could imagine. The conflict of interest. (There's supposed to be three of them so that no one member has too much sway. Which could be sabotaged if two of the three are captain and captain's favorite soldier LMFAO)

I have no idea why, in the world of One Piece, all of the emphasis seems to be on Captains as the end-all-be-all leaders of their ship and the First Mate as the second in command. Especially when Oda clearly KNOWS about the other roles, since he's written characters that fall into them like perfect puzzle pieces!

...Well, okay, I have some idea. This is a shonen series for teens and being the captain/king/etc is wish fulfillment, and wouldn't be as cool for the projecting readers if you were part of a leading council with two other mooks. But. I can still be salty about it LMFAO <3

[bizarrelittlemew]

Hi. I’ve been following you for a while and I really appreciate all the OFMD gifs you make and how you add really good image descriptions. I’m pretty bad at social cues and I wanted to know if you have tips for how to thank gif makers? Do you have advice for how to word the thank you without accidentally sounding weird or rude? Is it OK for someone to thank a gif maker in their ask box if the asker doesn’t follow the gif maker? Any sort of advice like that would be appreciated, or sample scripts that are socially acceptable to send. I know gif makers work really hard and I want to say thanks without accidentally breaking unspoken social rules I don’t know about and I felt safest asking you. I hope that’s OK. Thank you very much.

hi anon 💗 first of all this is such a lovely message and sentiment, thank you 🥹 i'd say you're pretty well on your way already!

i think every gif maker i know would LOVE getting a thank you message! as you say it is hard work, and having that acknowledged will always be appreciated 💗 (no matter if you follow them or not)

here is my specific advice on how to thank gif makers:

reblog! we share the gifs we make because we want to share our love for the show/movie/actor/etc. with other people, and by reblogging, you help us do that. adding something nice in the tags, whether it's something like "this is gorgeous!" or "thank you for giffing this moment, op!", compliments on the coloring (like "love the coloring"/"wow you did such a good job brightening this dark scene!"/"these look so crisp/sharp!"), or commentary on what the gifs show (like "he looks so sad, i wanna give him a hug"/"this scene is so funny/heartbreaking/sweet"/"i never noticed this detail before"), or simply emojis (any combinations of 💖, 🫠, 🥹, 🥺, 😭, 😍 or whatever the gif makes you feel), any kind of reaction like that will be very much appreciated - for me, it's the highlight of making and sharing gifs!

as for sending an ask, i think any kind of thank you message would make gif makers extremely happy 🥹 here are some sample sentences - any variation and combination of these would be lovely to receive, i think (some ideas/options in [brackets]): "i love seeing your gifs on my dash" "thank you for [creating/posting/sharing] your gifs, they [bring so much joy/always make me happy to see]" "i love your coloring, it's so [warm/vibrant/gorgeous/bright and sharp/colorful]" "thank you for giffing [character/person/show], i really appreciate seeing gifs of [that/them]" "thank you for adding [alt text/image descriptions] to your gifs, it helps a lot!" "i really admire how [fast/talented/creative] you are at giffing" ok these are just a few ideas but i hope it's helpful! 💗

this is not a direct way of thanking gif makers (as it should be a given), but i wanna add it because it's important to me: give credit if you share our gifs in other ways than reblogging the original post. please please please do not repost/crosspost gifs without credit. if a gif maker doesn't want their gifs reposted/crossposted at all, please respect it. most, like me, will be fine with it if you credit properly. here are some ways to do that: if you want to use a gif in your own post on tumblr, you can use the Add GIF function, which automatically adds credit (and we get a lil notification), or tag the creator and/or link the original gifset in the post (e.g. "gif by @bizarrelittlemew"). if you want to post a gif to another platform, e.g. twitter, these are some examples on how to give credit: "gif by @/bizarrelittlemew on tumblr", "📸: @/bizarrelittlemew", "gif by @[twitter handle]", "gif source: [link]" and variations of these, written either in the post itself or in a reply right below. not only in the ALT text (as that is for, well, ALT text) and not by making a general note on your profile that "gifs are not my own"/"the gifs i post are from tumblr" or similar (as this won't be evident from the post itself and doesn't credit the gif maker). ok that got a bit long but hopefully it makes sense!

also, if a gifset inspires you to write meta or make your own post about what the gifset depicts, we'd also be very happy if you linked it (like "this gifset reminded me of... / made me think about...") OR simply add it in a reblog of the gifset! the exception (for me, others may feel differently) is if the meta/comment "disagrees" with the gifset, like if the gifset shows "[character] being considerate" and the comment is something like "actually, i don't think this is [character] being considerate, i think they're manipulative". then making a separate post would be more welcome (i'd personally still appreciate a link to the gifset if you were inspired by it).

something that would be rude (since you ask how to avoid that) would be somehow criticizing the gifset in the comments/tags/replies, like disagreeing with the composition (e.g. "i don't think gif number X fits with this theme"), or being negative about the editing/giving unsolicited advice (e.g. "wish these gifs were brighter/sharper" or "hey op you should make your gifs slower/faster"), or talking about how you dislike the show/movie/characters (because the gif maker will see your tags/comments and they probably made the gifs out of love for the thing). as long as you avoid that, you should be fine! 💖

once again thank you for this lovely ask and for wanting to show your appreciation for gif makers 💗

[fanficsforheartandsoul]

New Recruit | Simon Riley x Masked!GN!Reader

To keep this as neutral as possible since anon did not specify the gender, this is written in 2nd POV. 

There are some spanish sentences here and although I’m actually learning the language with Duolingo (lmao) I used a translator for this, I apologize if it sounds clunky. I googled how to use gender neutral forms but I’m not sure if I did it correctly sooo.

Also, this is very short because I can’t for the love of god, produce words and a correct sentence in my head at the moment.

Fandom: Call of Duty: Modern Warfare II (2022)

Warnings: Ghost is OOC, Ghost might have a kink or more than one, Typical COD Pew Pew is Mostly Omitted, Injuries

Summary: A new member joins taskforce 141 for the hunt of Hassan but you are not what the others expect. Something sparks in Ghost when he shares eye contact with you and you two are on the same eye level.

Word Count: 2,3k

If you want to be tagged in my stories send me a pm with the fandom/character name! Or comment on the fic :)

Masterlist

It was already unusual for the taskforce to get a new member. Therefore it was even more unusual to get one in the middle of an important operation in another country. 

It wasn't exactly convenient but when would it ever be?

Fact was that Hassan Zyani, a major of the terror organization Al Qatala escaped their grasps.

They needed to work with Mexican Special Forces to follow his tracks, so if it was one more member or two, it didn’t really matter now. 

Yet it was quite a surprise when Ghost and Soap heard the news.

"Someone will join you in México, a new member of the taskforce. I wanted to introduce the lieutenant a bit later, but Chryso was in the country anyways, so I guess now is as good as ever."

Ghost listened silently to his captain on speaker phone while Soap asked the questions lingering in his head; what kind of muppet name was Chryso? And why would the soldier join them right now when they had something so important to do?

Trusting a stranger in a hostile environment wasn’t exactly an easy thing to do.

Price ignored Soap’s words deliberately and continued: 

“Chryso is already known to the Los Vaqueros and Alejandro and as you're aware they know their way around in Las Almas. Be nice and protect your backs. We will talk later and I’m sure Chryso will answer any questions you have.”

Great, Ghost thought and looked at the flabbergasted Soap who stared at the phone display showing the end of the call.

“He just hung up?? What the hell... I feel like someone just told me my sister got married in secret and I have to meet her husband.”

He raised an eyebrow but the other obviously couldn’t see it behind his skull mask.

“You have a sister?”

Soap blinked.

“No, but if I had one...”

Ghost sighed. He hoped that the new addition to the team wouldn’t mess up their operation and would focus on the task at hand. Catching Hassan.

-

You startled out of your sleep when you heard your call sign.

“They’re arriving in 5, Chryso” said Felipe, the Los Vaqueros soldier who was on the look out with you in one of the abandoned shacks close to the village where intel suggested Hassan Zyani’s location.

Your last undercover mission had taken a toll on your body and you tried to make up for it by napping whenever you could. Felipe’s humming had made you drowsy and apparently your consciousness had slipped away for a bit.

A quick glance at your combat watch proved that you had slept more than an hour and you sat up straight quickly.

“Perdón, you know my last OP still got me fucked up... Did anything move?”

“No pasa nada.”

The man waved his hand dismissively and watched as you stood up and stretched your arms. He had to tilt his head slightly to look up to you. Felipe's eyes wandered over your mask and then he said:

“They’re staying put and keeping quiet.”

You breathed out and rolled your shoulder. Maybe you shouldn’t have slept in such an uncomfortable position...

You were about to meet two members of Taskforce 141 - your new team - and group up with them and the Los Vaqueros to participate in one of their missions. No chit-chat and icebreakers, just business, straight-up. 

This was how work had always been with Captain John Price for the few times you had fought together, so it didn’t exactly bother you. But it was making you a bit antsy that he wouldn’t be part of the operation.

You weren’t exactly keen on entrusting your back to total strangers. Not with your... special circumstances.

Your habit of wearing a mask 24/7 often confused other people and many soldiers had treated you slightly differently due to it. Whether it was done deliberately or subconsciously, it often hampered with the beginning of your new relationships until people finally got used to it. Which usually took a while. Seen by the lack of other soldiers accompanying you and Felipe.

Strangely Price didn’t seem to react much to your mask. Maybe that was why you felt comfortable around him. He didn’t treat you any different, he had just looked at it once and then moved on. 

You hadn’t told him why you were wearing it but if anyone had to know, you would probably feel most comfortable telling him.

And when you had signed the contract to work as a new member of taskforce 141 you had mulled about doing it. Possibly when you would first see him again. You had believed that it would be today.

But he wouldn’t be part of this mission, which he told you 2 days ago. Instead Lieutenant Simon Riley and Sergeant John Mactavish would cover your back. 

You had heard their names before when Price talked to you about joining the taskforce but you didn’t know anything specific about them besides their names and ranks.

And Rodolfo and Alejandro didn’t let anything slip when you asked them if they knew anything about the two soldiers.

They did know more than you but based on the little smirk around Alejandro’s lips they purposely kept information from you, which annoyed you slightly.

But well, Alejandro was a colonel, furthermore the leader of Los Vaqueros and he obviously had to be informed about his allies in such a special operation. 

You knew not to question him and he wouldn’t keep anything dangerous from you, he wasn’t like that that’s what you could tell based on the few days you had spent at the Las Almas base. He kept his soldiers safe, had to in the corruption-filled town. 

And you would meet the other taskforce members soon anyways.

So you decided to focus on the task at hand and ignore everything else. Whether that would involve strange looks and stupid comments about your mask or not.

The Al Qatala terrorist had to be caught by all means. The files you had received told you enough about the threat he posed to basically everyone in this world. He wouldn’t escape your grasp. Not under your watch.

You strapped your black vest tighter and checked your gear.

A low hum announced the distant approach of some vehicles and Felipe looked out the window to see 3 black jeeps drive down the dirt road.

“They’re inbound.”

You nodded and followed him out of the room down the stairs.

-

"I have a feeling you'll fit right in, just like Y/N."

Ghost was still mulling over the strange comment of Rodolfo Parra, when they spotted the army checkpoint and Alejandro explained why they had to evade it and he forgot the words quickly.

However, when their convoy arrived at the other side of the river in their AO, he and Soap exited the truck and a few seconds later when he first exchanged eye contact with you, he remembered the words instantly. 

You had just moved out of the shack, following a Los Vaqueros soldier. Your back was turned towards the convoy when the man told you something and he gesticulated while you checked your back pockets.

Ghost noted that the soldier talking to you was at least a head smaller than you. You were clad in back and his interest peaked when he realized that your head was covered by a hood. Oh...?

He followed Soap behind Alejandro and Rodolfo and walked up to you while the other Los Vaqueros soldiers readied their guns and spread out. 

“No me gusta el hecho de que no tengamos refuerzos” he heard you say through your clenched teeth and your counterpart hummed in agreement. 

Alejandro coughed and you turned to face them while he introduced you to him and Soap. Your eyes roamed over them and they lingered a bit longer on him, which made Ghost’s heart beat quicker for some reason.

“This is lieutenant Y/N L/N”, the colonel announced and the smirk on his lips suddenly made sense. He just stared and Soap did the same. 

“Just call me Chryso” you said and gave Alejandro an annoyed look that the other ignored and you turned your head back to look at Ghost and you stretched out your hand. 

Ghost’s voice was rougher than usual when he told you his name: 

“...Simon Riley, but call me Ghost.”

He shook your hand with a firm grip. Hazel and e/c eyes met, both hidden in the shadows of a mask. He caught a glimpse of your spirit in the e/c shade and noted that the skin around your eyes was also hidden behind black makeup.

“Nice to meet you, Lieutenant.”

Fuck, he thought when he realized that he could gaze directly into your eyes without lifting or lowering his head. 

And bloody fucking hell, he thought when he realized that in a very strange way he found that mask of yours attractive. Like you were mirroring him, like you two belonged together, like you were meant to be his and he was meant to be yours. 

There were not many things that Ghost found immediately attractive upon meeting someone. 

He considered himself to be more of a “character”-person than someone who cared about appearances first but there were some things that just drew him in...

Pretty smiles for example. Or the hint of a strong character in one’s eyes. But what really invited his immediate attraction was what Soap had called the most surprising and strangest thing ever when he accidentally spilt this piece of information during one of their long scouting sessions; when someone was just as tall as him.

There was just something about someone being his height that created a spark in his chest. 

“That’s a fucking kink” Soap had said back then. Looking at you now and considering the growing feeling in his chest, the scot might have been right.

He let go of your hand before he was holding onto it for too long but he kept his eyes on you even when you had already turned towards Soap to shake his hand.

“Sergeant John Mactavish, but call me Soap.” 

The sergeant shook your hand enthusiastically and grinned from ear to ear. He glanced at him and Ghost’s alarm went off in his head.

“You have pretty long legs eh? How tall exactly are you?”

You blinked and Ghost couldn’t stop himself from groaning inwardly when he saw slight confusion and annoyance in your eyes. 

“Roughly 6′3 if I remember correctly.”

Soap looked at him but Ghost ignored the stare deliberately and when Alejandro told them to follow him, you immediately turned away from them and hurried to fall into the colonel’s and Rodolfo’s step.

“Oh dios, lo dijo.” Rodolfo said and laughed and Ghost cursed himself for not learning more Spanish on the way here when you groaned. He was about 99% sure this was about your interaction just now.

"¿Dijo que?" Alejandro asked, his voice now lower as they moved closer to the houses, weapons raised.

"Una de las tres cosas que Y/N odia a que le pregunte.¿’Por qué Chryso como apodo’? ¿’Por qué llevas una máscara’? y ¿’Qué tan alte eres’?”

Rodolfo muttered and while the colonel laughed quietly you only sighed.

Ghost didn’t understand what exactly was going on but based on the mocking tone Rodolfo used for his last few words, it was probably something bad. He also mentioned your call sign and he was smart enough to know that the conversation was most likely about them. 

As much as it bothered him, they had already reached the stone wall so he turned his attention to the mission at hand.

“Where’s Hassan?” he asked.

“White two-story building at the back”, Alejandro replied and two seconds later they entered the gate and he didn’t have time anymore to think about your height, nor your skull mask that seemed to compliment his own and the fact that your utility straps nicely showed off your thighs. 

-

But all these thoughts and much more rushed through his mind after he had helped you out of the river. 

It had already been hard for him to breathe with his mask but your experience with yours had been much worse, the cloth wasn’t exactly made for missions involved with water and you - in your words “almost got waterboarded back there”. 

Added to the harsh landing in the river and the bullet graze on your left arm, you weren’t exactly feeling your best and you felt exhausted for a moment, so much so that you had to drag your limbs out of the water when it was your turn. 

The soldier in front of you turned around and you looked up at him from your cowering position where you had temporarily bandaged your wound.

Ghost offered you his hand and you took it. 

“Thanks” you huffed and he pulled you up with more force than necessary which messed with your balance and made you take a step forward. 

He could see a waterdroplet on the tip of your eyelashes and his heart stuttered when he noticed how close you two suddenly were. Your loud breathing made his ears tingle and he took a step back, though not letting go of your hand. 

“You good, Chryso?”, he asked, ignoring his imagination where you were panting for a different reason. Jesus Christ, you were injured. And he hadn’t even seen your face yet.

You nodded and he let go of your, pointing at your left arm. 

“I’ll bandage your arm in the car, that wrap is a sad excuse of first aid.” 

You huffed in annoyance but he saw how your eyes turned into slight halfmoons again, showing him that you were actually smiling.

“Whatever, lieutenant.”

You walked past him, waving your hand in dismissal and he followed you, a small grin on his lips, definitely not sneaking a glance at that ass in those wet black cargo pants. 

-

“I’m really curious... What kind of muppet name is Chryso?”

Alejandro snorted. “Y dale.”

You sighed beside Ghost while he secured the re-wrapped bandage. Soap looked at you through the front mirror.

“We had this guy in my unit, Turner, he was a huge biology nerd. When he first met me, he just said ‘Chrysocyon brachyurus’  which is the scientific name for the maned wolf in South America.”

Soap tilted his head in confusion when Alejandro laughed. “Okay...?”

The colonel tapped the steering wheel. “They have really long legs, hermano. Really long.”

[not-5-rats]

Ehhhhhhhhhh *throws a bunch of questions/ scenarios at you....as well as a chocolate bar*

(Also silly lil idea at the end)

1. How's your Bug doing? (Emotionally/ Physically/ Wtv)

2. Do they say fall or autumn? (very important 👀)

3. What does family mean to them?

4. Scenario #1 (God! AU) (little lore...alot of words, sorry </3)

The past week had been...shit, to put it simply. No matter what they were doing something always went wrong, they could barely step outside their house without something being messed up.

They were now sat under a tree, minding their own business, the sky was cloudy...it was probably going to rain...and they didn't have a jacket...fuck. Well nothing they could do now, they sighed and leant back against the rough bark

"Ouch!!!"

An apple had fallen from the tree and hit them in the head. They glanced up at the branches of the tree to see what caused it to fall...nothing. Another sigh escaped their lips before they went to take a bite of the apple

"I wouldn't do that..."

Their head shot across the field, a dark figure was sat on the ground across from them, they almost blended into the grass given their deep green colour pallet...Chester, God of Misfortune, he grinned over at them. Instantly Bug felt annoyed, nobody was happy when Chester appeared...it meant bad things, his presence was never a good sign

"I heard they found bugs in those trees...and given your recent luck I'd say it's best not to test the rumours-"

....that asshole, he had caused all this bad luck!!! Why tf was he doing that!!

They got annoyed at him and went to yell...when they realised smth...Chester can only plague people with awful luck if he's near them...meaning he was following them...all week. They questioned him on this and the smile instantly vanished from his face

"I- Well I never...I was just-"

He grumbled quietly, his gaze eventually falling on the floor as he grumbled out a response

"I like your company...but I knew you wouldn't want me around, nobody ever does. Others do their job, they get praised, I do my job and everyone avoids me...you all hate me, everyone does, mortals, gods, those at any stage between"

He kept vanishing, then reappearing in another spot until he was right beside Bug. The veil shielded his face...adding to his unsettling nature. He spoke once more

"What else am I to do *Bug*?"

And whoosh, he was gone...what else could he do Bug?

☆---------------☆

Woah...sorry for yapping besties, anyways the idea I had

Ik we have the Bug discord but I had another idea, what if I made a separate server purely for role-playing as the Bugs. Like each of the channels would be a different place/ area of the forest and people could rp together

Idk it's a silly idea, two questions abt it for you guys

1. Should I make the server???

2. If I did make the server what should I do bedroom wise? (4 options)

op 1. Make Bodies house, every Bug stays in Marcos room

op 2. Make Bodies house, every Bug has their own room

op. 3. Make a few houses and throw a couple Bugs in each

op 4. If you have any other suggestions

3. What places/ areas would you guys want as channels?

☆---------------☆

Tags -

@rozeliyawashereyall @willowve01 @asmrbrainrot @kaiamtt @iistxrmyskyii @insignificant-anarchy @stxph-artist @aspenm00n @keyaartz @fangsshadow @rustycopper4use @piffany666 @dreamyshape @idontevenknow7878 @lunaritychuwolf @littlesiren79 @castbracelet240 @strayharmony943 @proxdragon @tiefling-chaos @threeweekinsomnia @recated @wilderrorcard @diamondzoey @fennaboysenberry @lunnats @lightdragon789 @pinkcocopuff-aqualoid @itsargyle @astralbulldragon13 @ccstiles @puffin-smoke @fruity0salad @takashishihoin @megapugman @reefhastoomanyaccs @kaydenskiwi @greaysharkboi @itzscribz @blingzyya @atonalasmr @headstrashdump @gatorboys22 @drowziestar @howdyimmaia

[sleepy-sham]

brb bowing down & worshipping this post

It’s time for people in the fanbase to finally accept that Aang was in complete control of the avatar state in that battle with Ozai. He was furious and his rage is clear as day, and he had every right to be. It’s tired to see people crediting Aang’s anger to Kyoshi or whatever all the time. The jokes are funny, but not here, not in this battle.

Aang enters the avatar state right after Ozai says this to him: “You’re weak, just like the rest of your people. They did not deserve to exist in this world, in my world. Prepare to join them—prepare to die.”

Aang reaches out from under those rocks and grabs Ozai, and then when Ozai tries to burn his face in the place he burned his own son, Aang smacks his hand away and then blasts him into a rock pillar with airbending, the first element he uses against him once in the avatar state is the same element Ozai just called weak. There’s a reason Aang surrounds himself with an air bubble, and there’s a reason Aang’s airbending is so violent and unrelenting in this fight. He literally airbends so violently that he erodes a rock pillar all the way through in like 2 seconds. It’s a blatant display of the power airbending actually possesses, a big fuck you to Ozai who starts running away like a coward.

Aang is coming face to face with a man whose family line is directly responsible for wiping out his entire race of people, his entire culture. They took everything from him. He had nothing but Appa and the clothes on his back and his glider. That was it. That was all that was left of their genocide, a genocide justified by the view that Air Nomads were undeserving of life, that they were the weakest of all the nations. Imagine how full of rage he must have been. And still, he does not kill him. Not because he can’t, but because he won’t let the Fire Nation complete their genocide against the Air Nomads, he won’t allow himself to be robbed of his own culture, a culture that exists through him only, now. I feel like people really just don’t understand Aang’s character, and they definitely never give him the credit or praise he deserves.

[andastartosteerherby]

SVSSS Fic Rec

I'm updating it everyday, because time crunch.

(Mostly Bingqiu/Bingyuan, Unless Tagged)

*Different Endless Abyss

Guess I'll Die - Shen Qingqiu goes to the Endless Abyss.

Speak No Evil - SQQ gives up his voice to stop Endless Abyss. It happens anyway.

*Amnesia

Night of Yearning - Luo Binghe forgets Shen Qingqiu.

*Jinlan City Goes Differently/Different Reunion/Different Rebirth

High Mountains, How I long

Dew Over - Shen Qingqiu is reborn in the mushroom body and tries to live as Peerless Cucumber.

Honesty is Such a Lonely Word - Shen Qinqiu faces the trial, and Old Palace Master uses a truth-finding artefact.

*Time Loop/Time Travel

Just Like A Monkey (I've Been Dancing My Whole Life) - Instead of being reborn after self-destructing, Shen Qingqiu keeps coming back on the Stairs of the Brothel in Jinlan City.

Master of Dual Cultivation Series - Shen Yuan reboots his time in PIDW. He is traumatised and less happy-go-lucky. This one is multi, with Liu Qingge and Yue Qingyuan getting more focus uptill now (in the first two stories) but Luo Binghe is important too.

*Shen Jiu and Shen Yuan

Deluxe System 2.0: Co-op Mode!

Found Brother Shen brothers.

A-Yuan Has at Least Three Friends - Shen Qingqiu turns into a kid with both Shen Yuan and Shen Jiu's memory. They are the same person.

Replacement Head Disciple Shen Yuan - Set after the Abyss, before Binghe's return. Shen Brothers.

*Epic (These fics are longer and plot-heavy, and won a special place in my heart)

You Reap What You Sow - Luo Binghe is the transmigrator. I thought it would be so-so, but turned out to be one of the best ones I've ever read. Also has Shen brothers.

Xiangyang - When you are born as the daughter of your murderer, what do you do? A question for the ages. No active pairing, original LBH and his harem is present.

Uprooted - Shen Yuan transmigrates as a minor villain in PIDW. Except he's not.

To Stem the Coming Tide - Shen Qingqiu learns about Shang Qinghua a bit earlier, and they plot to avoid their fate. No Endless Abyss.

*IWYWMH & Its AUs

I Wish You Were My Husband - The epickest of epics. It produced a number of spin-offs of it's own. Maybe I should put them under separate sub-headings when I have time. Bingqiu main pair, but has past yuejiu and hints of one-sided liushen.

A Wish to Change Fate - A great fanfic to IWYWMH. Shen Yuan is actually Shen Jiu's reincarnation. This fic touched my heart in all the right ways, gave me things I didn't even know I craved. Someday I should write about it in details. Hings of Bingjiu/Bingyuan (since both are the same).

No Wish for the Wicked - Shen Yuan wasn't around to take the place of Shen Jiu. Sad.

*Bingge

to love another (and to learn yourself) - Bingge tries to get his own Shizun and brings a Shen Yuan. Even without his cultivation power, Shen Yuan is not a pushover. Binggeyuan.

How to Train Your Shen Qingqiu - Another piece I ignored for a long time, but turned out to be very good. I need to reread it.

*WIP

I usually avoid wips, but here are some of the best ones I read:

I Was Transmigrated as a Sword (Gen up till now)

Lotus Seeds - Shen Yuan runs away to save himself from the horrible fate of the Scum Villain - to the realm of the Lotus Eaters.

Scum Villain's Book of Prophecy - Shen jiu reads PIDW and learns the future. Original Luo Binghe/Original Shen Qingqiu. Almost finished, epic length.

[writingwithcolor]

Japanese Q Speedround: Google Is Right There

Hi, it’s mod Rina. It’s time to speedrun some asks. 

@troublsomeidiots​ asked: 

I'm writing a character who is both black and Japanese and lives in japan in a primarily Japanese area and wanted some help in writing a person who is biracial who lives in primarily homogenous society? Like what kind of struggles she would face, especially as a person who has never met anyone who is black other than in passing?

Open Youtube. Hit search bar on Youtube. "being black in japan" "half black half japanese in japan" "black hafu in japan". Try different combinations of keywords. Bon voyage.

(neither Marika nor I are Black. We will not be speaking to experiences we do not have.) (we can outsource to some of our friends if you ask a specific question. These are not specific questions.) 

(Black Japanese readers--please feel free to comment if there’s something you want OP to know!)

@layzeal​ asked: 

Hello! I have a question regarding family/last names in Edo period Japan. My story takes place in 1816, my character was born in 1796 from a commoner family (that she gets separated from a few years later, and in a different country).

I've read that regular people in Japan didn't adopt the use of family names until Meiji restoration, but I'm not sure how true that is. Would a family of commoners in that period carry a family name, or would they only use their first names? And any idea if that family would have to present a last name when moving/passing by a different country that does use them?

It's important for me to know, since the existence of a last name or not would quite heavily influence how hard it'd be for the family to meet again, and which means would be used. Thanks in advance!

When I gave Google some keywords from your query, the second result explained how pre-Meiji commoners without family/clan names used bynames to distinguish themselves, and gives additional data on them. Maybe give it another Google? 

@weavefeather asked:

Hello, I am a writer and I really need some advice. I am wotking on my book since a few years, maybe 2 or 3, and I finally got the points together how it could begin. My plan is that my MC (named Nanami Kudo) is an lawyer of the FBI and has to go to her homecountry Japan, beacuse they send her to foreign investigations about a syndicate of people.....  And the some things happen, like her brother who still lives in jp doesn't really welcomes her, some complications with the police and so on... 

But thats not the point! Im really struggling to take in words how she gets to the other country, leaving her home behind and her partner she worked with. Do you have any advice on it, maybe how to structure it, some words or scenarios that fit?

How she gets to the other country: …..She flies there.

How US government agents/workers relocate and what the experience is like: That's your job to google. We are not government agents. Try anecdata on reddit, reddit AMAs, and Quora.

It’s unclear what her relationship/proximity to Japan is. What kind of nikkei is she? Is she mixed race or monoracial? How much Japanese can she speak? So many unknowns. Go read our Japanese tag and appreciate just how many ways one can be a Japanese person. Until then, you are nowhere near close to being able to write a nikkei homecoming plot. 

Lastly, you are the author. Give us scenarios yourself and come back to us.

In Conclusion

Guys, you all gots to google some more. It’s beneficial to both of us: not only do we get to help with more specific things and have enough info to do so, but you don’t have to wait months until your ask comes through the backlog only to receive an answer you could have researched in anywhere from a couple days to 3 minutes. 

~ Rina

“But Rina, I don’t know how!” 

You’re in luck!

First, try one of our own post on Google shortcuts. 

Second, stay tuned for some very relevant posts...

COMING SOON: WWC’s A Beginner’s Guide to Academic Research