#WHERE DO WE HAVE PHONES ON THIS THING ITS COVERED IN GAMBLING SIGNS

[cpunkwitch]

Friend when I crash at her place: idk what you're talking about "grumpy in the morning" you're so nice and cute when you wake up I swear you're a morning person

Oh no baby I'm awkward and I like you that's why I'm a sweet little thing in the morning at your place

You're fine I love you

I'm actually a bitch in the morning and I JUST got my coffee

I'm also in worse pain in the morning esp today

[miraculouscontent]

It’s heeeeere! Another summasalt, this time with nearly twice the length of the first one!

(Turns out that not having caffeine doesn’t help me talk any slower.)

Script below:

Anonymous asked:

Thoughts on Rocketear?

Can you Rocketear the newest episode apart with your salt, my beloved Salt Queen?

Penny for your thoughts on Rocketear?

Aw, anon! You can have that for free! I'm a generous goddess.

"Rocketear" begins with Chat Noir and Carapace - just Carapace, really - holding back a pack of what I presume to be the physical manifestation of the writing staff's age, or at least a representation of how behind the times the writing seems.

Just as the dinosaurs break through Shellter. Ladybug shows up with the scientist who revived the dinosaurs in the first place and said scientist uses a whistle to calm the dinosaurs down. There's also a line from Bob Roth about putting the dinosaurs in a theme park to make money and I know what it's referencing but it's so incredibly random that it doesn't really come off as a proper joke.

Carapace was notably sad right after battle, but insisted that he was fine when Ladybug asked. Rena, sporting a... - I would like to say "new design" but it's a recolor in every sense of the word - is hiding behind part of a building and smiles after the heroes before walking off. Ladybug takes Nino's miraculous back but sees that he's still upset and asks him again what's wrong. Nino asks where Alya was and Ladybug claims that she only needed Carapace for the job, which cheers him up but only until Ladybug is already gone.

Mm, I guess Nino and Adrien relate in heroism not being enough for them unless they have their respective love interest to flirt with.

Also, I know this is an obvious set-up, but the show can't tell me that Ladybug just always brought Nino and Alya whenever she needed one of them. Season 3 required her to go to Master Fu to get the miraculouses, and unless she already knew that Nino and Alya would be in the same location - which, okay, the show does basically shove the two of them together whenever Nino is onscreen, fair, if two characters are in a relationship in this show then it's weird for them to NOT be with that person - but it just seems like a gamble, not to mention proof to Shadow Moth that the two are close if Ladybug constantly brings both of them.

Anyway, Ladybug goes into the sewer and asks Rena if she's seen any sign of Shadow Moth or his traps. Rena didn't see anything and they de-transform. Marinette is about to leave when she thinks of something, but Alya assumes it's about her new look, which was apparently not voluntary on her part and the suit automatically adapted to Alya's new role as Rena Furtive, which she has now named it as.

Marinette reminds her that this is supposed to be a secret and that they agreed that the fox has no owner. When Alya is evasive about whether she told Nino that she won't be Rena anymore, Marinette stresses that everyone needs to believe that Alya won't be using a miraculous anymore so that she can remain an undercover spy.

What's the point in changing the look if you're not going to show yourself anyway? I mean, insurance, I guess, but still.

Alya, exasperated, parrots what Marinette has apparently told her before: that she helps Ladybug with Mirage in case Shadow Moth tries to follow her so Rena can follow him instead. Marinette stresses the situation again and Alya tries to get Marinette to agree on her telling Nino that she's Rena Furtive, but Marinette refuses.

At Marinette's house, Alya talks further and explains that she doesn't know if she can lie to Nino since they don't keep any secrets--Alya, babe, you kept Rena Rouge from him and didn't tell him that you knew he was Carapace until Ladybug was forced to give you your miraculouses at the same time. I don't wanna hear it.

Marinette states that it's too late for that and also not technically a lie, but Alya gets upset and says that Nino will never trust her again if he finds out that she kept something from him. Marinette brings up how she had to keep secrets from Alya too, but they're interrupted by Tom appearing and wanting to play games with them. Marinette makes an excuse about homework that she's repeated many times, as Tom comments that the teachers give her too much. After Tom is kicked out - hang on, lemme just... - Marinette uses the moment to show Alya that she's lied to her family a lot and hasn't played games with her father in months. She states that there's no other option as they have to protect their identities, and Alya agrees to talk to Nino.

In Alya's room - I just presume at this point that Nino's house doesn't exist and Chris is an illusion - Alya tells Nino that they need to talk, but stammers and states that it's hard to talk about. Nino thinks that she wants to break up with him, but Alya assures that she loves him. She finally gets to the cover story that Rena herself made up in "Sentibubbler" and Nino understands, sad that she won't be around anymore but agreeing if it's what Ladybug thinks is best.

Is it weird that Nino respects Ladybug's wishes more than Alya does?

Nino hugs her and is confused by why Alya was nervous to tell him, as she can tell him anything and nothing will change their relationship. Alya feels guilty and hugs back, murmuring about how they don't have any secrets; that's not what Nino said, but sure, push this plot to its already predictable conclusion. I mean, I thought it was vaguely sweet that Nino switched to seriousness immediately when Alya said that she wanted to talk, but how am I supposed to be invested in this couple when their dynamic boils down to "STRONG, INDEPENDANT WOMAN who wears the pants in the relationship because her boyfriend is portrayed as a wimpy coward"? Like, the show constantly dragged Nino down to make Alya look "powerful" by comparison, and then when it comes to characters like Marinette, we get a girl who works very well outside of her relationship with her endgame love interest.

It's the fakest form of "girl power," dragging guys down to raise girls up or actually making a strong girl character but having her love interest be a weakness that creates flaws in her that weren't there originally and having that love interest be who she's "destined for."

I'm rambling, sorry.

In class, Marinette assures Alya that she did the right thing and Alya agrees. As they're leaving school, Marinette talks about how their "night walks" start soon, and Alya non-subtly talks about how Rena Furtive will be on the lookout while Ladybug and Chat Noir patrol. She stops, however, as gets excited about some pictures she took of herself as Rena Furtive, which has a lot of details that Marinette hasn't seen. I don't know whether to groan at what I just heard or remind everyone that Rena Furtive is literally just a recolor and therefore this is the writers patting themselves on the back for this design, so let's just move on.

Alya then shows Marinette her phone--AUGH, MY EYES--and suggests making a poll on her Ladyblog so people can vote for their favorite Rena design. Marinette has to stress again that Rena Furtive is supposed to be a spy and thus invisible, which Alya admits that she forgot about.

Okay, I've been holding off on talking about this, but now seems like the best time to bring it up. Alya has been a trash friend as well as a trash confidant, and her role as Rena Rouge boiled down to, "it was convenient for her to be the fox at the time it was needed." She's not particularly stealthy like one would expect of a fox, and she was easily one of the worst candidates to be told Marinette's big secret. I'll get more into this later, but I have to stress that Alya has treated Marinette no differently since learning of Marinette's identity and has already gone against Marinette's orders once before at the time of this episode airing. Episodes are constantly torn between validating their decision to have Marinette tell Alya, having Marinette be worried about the decision while the show considers her to be ridiculous for it, and then having Alya either consider or make choices that clearly don't gel well with what's good for her role. Much like Marinette, she lacks a sense of self-control and--wow, a female character who's impulsive, never seen that stereotype before.

Point being, "Sentibubbler" stressed over and over that Alya was the right choice and deserved to be both the permanent fox and the understudy for guardian, but then we have "Rocketear" here where Alya is making basic emotionally-driven errors that I'm not even remotely sympathetic to when Marinette has gone through so much worse over the course of three+ seasons.

*sigh*

Alya laments that it's hard to find new content for the Ladyblog - ah, yes, tell me more about your struggles, Alya - but figures that at least she can post stuff about Chat Noir instead of--I don't know--making fake Ladybug theories to lead people off Marinette's trail. Marinette says that it's a great idea, though Alya still doesn't look too happy. The scene then rewinds to a little bit to show a different point of view, this time with Adrien and Nino. Wait, this feels familiar, wasn't there another episode that did something like--ohhhh no, this is going to hurt.

After saying good-bye to Adrien - something I wish I could do every time he's mentioned or on-screen - Nino catches the bit of conversation where Alya talks about the Ladyblog. Nino talks as if Marinette isn't there and asks Alya out to the movies because Marinette is chopped liver and this is about Alya and how sad she is, guys.

Wow, she's turning into Adrien faster and faster.

Alya hesitates, but Marinette assures her that there's still time. Alya excitedly runs off with Nino and they watch what I presume are previews given the narrator, featuring recycled footage from the Ladybug PV. Nino is upset because Rena is mentioned but not Carapace, and the preview features Rena telling Chat Noir to forget Ladybug because it's Chat and Rena herself who are trulu made for each other.

I don't know what's funnier; the complete lack of self-awareness or the suggestion that a biracial couple would exist in this show outside of a special that gives them maybe a minute of screentime and acts more like suggestive canon anyway. I think I might've been too generous with that line about dinosaurs.

Nino is offended by the preview and Alya brushes off his comments, stating that it's just a cartoon and it's made to entertain people, though Nino himself is certainly not entertained. Can't say I entirely blame him considering that Alya doesn't really try to say anything substantial or even agree with him. No cuddling or reassuring kisses, she just gets slightly sad and turns to her phone for a bit.

After the movie, Nino is cheered back up again until he catches Alya on her phone once more. He offers to take her home, but she's distracted, and he comments that what she showed to Marinette looked pretty nice; I don't know because they didn't show it. Nino asks what it was and Alya evades the question, stating that her battery is running out. Nino is suspicious, but spots Andre's ice cream cart and the two head over there. Andre calls them his favorite couple and asks what they want, but Alya sees Ladybug gesturing for her and has to run off, giving Nino a cheek kiss as she goes which feels like too little too late at this point.

Nino catches some conveniently-placed kids arguing over who Chat Noir loves, but they settle on the fact that girls in general love Chat Noir. Nino is then seen at the Seine watching the Ladyblog's latest video, where Alya is talking up how amazing Chat Noir is. I hate to stop every five seconds to complain - okay, actually I don't - but I presume this video must've been made after the movie since Nino seems like the type who would actively follow his girlfriend's blog, yet not only is this video perfectly set up to echo the kids and the movie preview, but Alya - despite apparently caring about her boyfriend soooo much that she kept trying to convince Marinette to bend the rules - didn't even try to warn Nino or text him so he doesn't take it too seriously. It's like "Sentibubbler" with the conflicting messages about identity rules; Alya cares about her boyfriend but both isn't thinking about how he'll take the things she says and apparently doesn't know him well enough to realize that he wouldn't be mad over her keeping a secret that she was told to keep. I already talked about how they play up Nino to be the emotionally weaker one of the relationship, but then they don't have Alya try to cover or make up for that. She's been acting very much not like Alya - you know, the one who in "Sapotis" practically bragged about how great she'd be at covering for Ladybug - with her stutters and weak excuses, so I can't completely blame Nino for being upset after everything that's happened when he sees the writers projecting onto Alya as she talks about how Chat Noir is brave and funny and cute and showing all these images of him as well. I don't agree with all of his actions, but--oh yeah, speaking of which--

Nino calls Adrien and is talking to him about how Alya must be in love with someone else. Adrien dismisses the idea, as Alya and Nino are together basically all the time, and asks who she could possibly be in love with. When Nino suggests that it's Chat Noir, Adrien laughs and jokes about it being Fang instead. Nino points out the video but Adrien did see it but is overall unphased and convinced that it means nothing. Nino says that he'll find proof and hangs up, but Adrien is certain he'll find nothing. Plagg comments that Nino will find someone because Plagg's charisma has definitely contaminated Adrien.

Ugh.

Adrien expresses concern that he put on the cat's charm too much and accidentally made Alya fall for him, and decides to visit Alya as Chat Noir to be sure.

Meanwhile, we get a reference to film noirs as Nino narrates. That's the second blatant reference this episode and now I feel like they wrote this script while doing a movie marathon.

Chat Noir arrives at Alya's house and Trixx hides before Alya opens the curtains to reveal her surprise guest. Nino is nearby watching the scene with his phone as Alya wonders aloud if something's wrong. Chat assures that everything's fine, but brings up the video she posted. He insists that it made him happy, but points out that she's been following him and Ladybug since the beginning and that they know each other much better due to everything that's happened. He has some conveniently-worded dialog as he starts to say that he hopes something's just an illusion and Alya gets worried that he's about to bring up Rena. Chat continues and clarifies that he wonders if she started to feel something for him, though adds that he understands because just look at him.

UGGGGH.

Chat clarifies by making a heart with his hands, which Nino sees. Alya laughs at this gesture and states that she has a boyfriend, doing the same heart gesture and suggesting that her love for Nino is even more than that. Chat Noir apologizes - hm, I didn't know he had the capacity to do that - and hugs Alya, saying that he was just confused.

An absolutely unnecessary hug for two people who, at least in terms of their current selves, have had very little screentime together, but this is also the show where making eye contact basically means your friends and it's all just to push the plot along so Nino inteprets that Alya is in love with Chat Noir, so whatever I guess.

Alya states that Nino is far more irresistable than Chat, then adds that she doesn't even know his secret identity, and she'd never fall in love with someone she doesn't know. Nino then runs away upset and the scene cuts away to the next day where--

Wait, wait, wait, hang on a second. Two things right off the bat there.

First off, we're just gonna sidle past that "wouldn't fall in love with someone you don't know the identity of" while ignoring the existence of the love square? Not even Chat thinking about how he doesn't know Ladybug's identity and trying to excuse that he doesn't have to? This guy is that certain of their relationship?

Secondly, Nino is practically sobbing and Shadow Moth doesn't take this as his opportunity? Same guy who akumatized Mr. Pigeon 72 times and has akumatized Gigantitan more than once? What is this pacing???

But--alright, so Adrien comes into school and sees Nino, still dressed up in his detective gear, which gets ignored completely as Adrien goes to tell him about Chat Noir and Alya. Because the show doesn't know how Adrien would convey this within reason, Nino interrupts him, taking him down into the lower part of the school where he has a desk and chairs set up. Adrien goes to ask when Nino had time to do this, but Nino slams his hand on the desk to cut him off. Nino presents the evidence he took and they go back and forth, likewise with Adrien turning off the background music while Nino turns it back on. Adrien insists that it's a misunderstanding, but pleads innocent when Nino asks how he knows. Adrien states that Alya is just a superhero fan and that she and Chat Noir have nothing in common.

Again, the complete lack of self-awareness is astonishing.

Adrien repeats what Alya said about secret identities and how she wouldn't fall for someone she doesn't know - they're really ignoring this, aren't they? - and continues hitting Nino's soft spots about how unlikely it is until Nino decides to tell Adrien something he's not supposed to.

He tells Adrien, not only that Alya is Rena Rouge, but that he's Carapace. Adrien goes through a range of emotions beyond sAD for once, shocked at the fact that they know each other's identities. Nino states that they don't keep secrets from each other, except now Alya is with Chat Noir. Adrien still doesn't understand and brings up how secret identities have to be protected, or else Nino wouldn't have told him because Ladybug wouldn't agree to it.

Oh, here we go. So that's why they waited.

Nino states that it was Ladybug herself who gave them their miraculouses at the same time; not giving the reason why, of course, nor pointing out that they're temporary heroes so there's understandably some leeway. Adrien is having a moment, but manages to bring the subject back to Alya and Chat Noir, who he still doesn't think are a thing. Nino argues that it's because Adrien doesn't know Chat Noir, but he does because he's Carapace and knows how Chat Noir acts. He says that it's all flowers and confessions when Ladybug appears, but he gets rejected because Ladybug thinks that he's annoying, and she's right. He adds that Chat flirts with Rena Rouge and that's all that needs to happen, with Chat stepping in on the first mission Carapace lost in. Nino laments the loss of the love of his life and wishes to shut Chat Noir up forever; we all do, Nino, we all do. Shadow Moth finally steps in with - oh, less than eight minutes left in the episode, yikes - and Nino is akumatized into Rocketear.

Rocketear rejects Adrien's pleas to stop, insisting that Chat Noir is who he's after, not Adrien, and Adrien transforms in sad fashion despite Plagg's reminder of who Rocketear is after. Alya, meanwhile, is in the art club with Marinette - wait, since when was Alya in the art club - telling Marinette about how Chat Noir thought she was into him due to the video, which Marinette groans at. There's an earthquake and they peek outside to see Rocketear firing his tears at Chat Noir, shouting that he stole Alya from him. Chat Noir tries to tell him otherwise, but Rocketear won't listen.

Alya groans at Nino doing this, then she and Marinette set off to find a place to transform. They conveniently go to the same place Adrien and Nino were, so they see the desk that Nino had set up.

Genuine question, how seriously does this episode want me to take itself, because now when I recount all the unnecessary love square drama in my head - because you know that's where this is going - I'm going to have to think, "Nino, dressed in a detective outfit, ripped off his fake mustache and told Adrien both his and Rena's identities, and also that Ladybug was totally cool with it and thinks that Chat Noir is annoying."

Gettin' two completely different vibes here. The episode clearly wants to be important but it doesn't take itself seriously either, which it totally could while including enough jokes to keep things light. Instead, I'm just left scratching my head and wondering what tone they're going for.

Marinette finds Nino's phone on the desk - I'm calling continuity error on that one because he at no point put it on the desk, at least not on-screen - and she questions Alya on the video she sees. Alya insists that nothing happened, apparently completely unphased by her boyfriend having spied on her, and says that he wouldn't have misunderstood if he'd heard the actual conversation.

The two transform and Ladybug immediately uses Lucky Charm, receiving a projector. Ladybug is clueless and Rena Furtive suggests creating an imaginary movie like Nino. Ladybug gets an idea, remembering Alya's earlier comments, and Rena confirms that she remembers every word of it.

Aaaaand, just like that, all of the tension has been completely sucked away. You know, "Backwarder" was a trash episode, but at least when Ladybug was showing every step of her plan, she didn't tell us what it was.

Meanwhile, Rocketear and Chat Noir are still arguing--I started zoning out at hearing the same thing over and over again at this point, so I just presume they were fighting over who does stuff behind their love interest's backs better; I don't think they came to an agreement but they're both losers anyway.

Chat Noir says that he'll prove his innocence, tossing his baton aside to show him giving up, but Rocketear points out that it proves nothing and strikes Chat Noir with his tears.

Our endgame love interest, everyone. Straight As yet about as smart as a sack of bricks, and that at least won't flirt with anyone non-consensually.

Chat Noir makes a point that he doesn't want to hurt Rocketear, and Shadow Moth tells Rocketear to take his miraculous before finishing him. Chat Noir can only weakly tell him not to before Ladybug snags Rocketear's wrist and diverts the shot. Ladybug explains to Rocketear about the projector and how it'll let him hear the audio of the recording he took. She adds that she doesn't know what Chat said, but she trusts him.

Marinette, I'm sorry, I feel so bad for you.

Ladybug turns on the projector and Rocketear relaxes at actually hearing what was going on. Rena then de-transforms and hurries out to meet with Rocketear, hugging him as Rocketear apologizes for doubting her. Alya also kinda sorta apologizes in a way I don't understand and Rocketear then breaks his akumatization, very casually, all on his own.

Yeah, just--casually, in a matter of seconds in fact. You know, it's really sad when people resisting akumatizations are more tense and emotionally compelling than them breaking them. This is twice in one season now and has zero impact considering that Nino's reason for being akumatized was already taken care of so he had no reason to stay akumatized anyway. Him breaking his own object to release the akuma would've at least been different, but instead it's just a repeat of what Alya went through with even less tension considering that Alya's wasn't even that good in the first place, relying on her relationship to Ladybug rather than who she knew to be her best friend.

Moving on, Ladybug captures the akuma and uses Miraculous Ladybug to bring everything back to normal. Shadow Moth monologues about how love and secrets don't go well together and he's sure that she has a lot and I'll talk about this later.

Ladybug hands over the magical charm, which Nino takes but insists that he won't need it, as he'll never let Shadow Moth use his love to manipulate him again. Plenty of other things to get akumatized over, but they gave the supposedly ace character a robot to help him stick out and also gave the supposedly aro character a miraculous back in season one to give her more importance. If characters aren't in love then they need something to ceompensate for it.

Nino apologizes to Chat Noir for being wrong and Chat Noir assures him that everyone has doubts, even him. He gets sad and Ladybug asks him what's wrong, but he insists that he's fine - officially throwing away his right to be upset at her later as far as I'm concerned - and they do their usual fist buuuuu--

...Really?

Everyone then splits up and Chat Noir sulks by himself instead of--you know, talking to Ladybug, or asking her anything, or making any sort of excuse for her because that would mean he actually has faith in her and understands that their partnership is different from temporary heroes, even if the excuse was as basic as her wanting to protect him more than the others because he would be that egotistical if they didn't want to stretch out this unnecessary drama.

Later on, Adrien is staring at a picture on the Ladyblog that might be a metaphor for the show considering how "in the foreground" Chat Noir and Rena are.

Adrien vents about Ladybug giving miraculouses to Alya and Nino, but Plagg states that she's the guardian. Adrien clarifies that he's referring to Alya and Nino knowing each other's identities, but Plagg doesn't see the issue. Adrien gets huffy and asks why the rule exists for LadyNoir but not Ninya, but Plagg again points out that she's the guardian, so she makes the rules, though obviously he uses cheese metaphors to convey it.

Okay, Plagg is only, like--half-right because he doesn't have all the information. If you don't mind me rambling for a bit, I'm on the fence here because, on one hand--yes, I agree that Marinette should be allowed to make her own rules, and I often do that in my writing because I think she should be permitted leeway in order to let herself be happy, but on the other hand, it's not technically her rule, as she had to let Alya and Nino in on their identities back in the Season 2 finale, so Fu was still around for a season. She wasn't even guardian yet!

Now, presumably so the fandom could blame Marinette if anything happened, Marinette never discussed this with Fu on-screen, so I can't say whether or not Fu knew, but I feel like he must've since Marinette had to have told him the heroes' identities off-screen, given "Party Crasher," and thus I imagine that Marinette would tell Fu everything that happened, which is consistent with what she does on-screen even if she'd keep things from him for a little while.

"Furious Fu" had also established that not even Master Fu followed rules completely, meaning that Marinette is in this awkward spot of mostly following what Fu taught her, which aren't all guardian rules anyway, and having to break the rules on occasion for various purposes. I can't say what Fu approved of and what he didn't, because episodes spend so much time on the love square that they forget about Marinette as a person and how she interacts with everyone else. From an emotional standpoint, I can't blame Marinette for not revoking the miraculouses of people whose identities get discovered because of her, as I imagine she feels guilty and it probably doesn't seem fair to force them into another miraculous or have them be entirely without one because of a mistake that she made, meaning that someone needs to be throwing a lot of red flags for Marinette to be through with them.

Though obviously, from the show's standpoint, it's just an excuse to not make new models, but I complained about that enough in "Sentibubbler" and this episode even went out of its way to design a detective model for Nino while spraypainting Alya's bodysuit in the same breath, so this is the world we live in.

Anyway, Marinette is essentially in this position where she still has Fu's rules hovering over her, but she's also trying to step out on her own and make her own decisions to varying degrees of success or failure depending on your point of view. Tikki--wait, no, bad idea--Su-Han then, could easily give input on these things, perhaps with Marinette discussing a modern day set of rules for someone her age and going back and forth with Su-Han on what the right choices to make are, finding something that's comfortable but within a realm of predictable control. Su-Han was okay with some rules being broken after seeing how Ladybug handled them and they could've easily made this episode about that instead, but instead, we get rules being set and then being broken on a writer's whim.

Which now brings us to the end of the episode, where Marinette is on the phone with Alya and apologizes for causing trouble between her and Nino. Alya tells her not to worry and she'll fix things - you know, those things that, to Marinette's knowledge, have already been fixed - and asks if Marinette trusts her. Marinette does, and Alya hangs up in order to face Nino.

Yeah, that feeling of dread in your stomach? That means you know how predictable the writing is and what's about to happen, good for you.

Alya explains that she has to tell Nino something and he's worried, this time trying to sheepishly break the tension. She explains that she's still Rena Rouge, much to Nino's shock, and adds that she's in hiding, which is why Ladybug didn't want her to tell anyone. Nino asks why she's telling him if she's not supposed to tell anyone - proving my point from a while back that he wouldn't have been upset had she kept it a secret - then asks if Ladybug agreed with it.

I want to give him a pat on the back for considering Ladybug, but he didn't even tell her when he had the chance that Adrien knows his identity now, so I'm just beaten down at this point.

Instead of answering the question directly, Alya says that she can't hide her identity from him because she loves him and they don't have secrets.

You know, like Nino telling Adrien about Rena's identity, or Alya saying specifically that she's a permanent holder, which I'm sure both of them will confess to since they said that they don't have--aaaaand the episode ends on happy triumphant music, okay.

I mean, I guess Alya at least didn't tell him that Marinette was Ladybug, but that is such a low bar and not even remotely worthy of congratulations when Alya told Nino the specific thing that Marinette told Alya not to tell; the thing that they had agreed on.

Nino wasn't upset anymore. He won't be getting akumatized either. Alya endured the supposed hardship of being a permanent fox holder for four episodes before breaking down and telling her boyfriend. Even her excuse doesn't hold any water because, again, they're both still technically keeping a secret, particularly Alya who knows Marinette's identity as Ladybug. The episode also apparently forgets that Alya and Marinette's friendship must not be as strong by her logic of telling Nino specifically everything, as Alya kept Rena Rouge a secret from Marinette for all of Season 3, but tells Nino about continuing to be Rena Rouge in Season 4. Boyfriends before BFFs without explicitly saying it, or to be more specific, whatever screws Marinette over the most, because that's what this comes down to, made worse by "Optigami" where Marinette told Alya that she'd tell her everything and I guess that doesn't go both ways.

"Sentibubbler" had Alya stress that no one would ever know. She promised Marinette and told Marinette to trust her, and the episode spent its entire running time talking her up and assuring Marinette that she was the right choice, even considering Marinette ridiculous for worrying when Alya had done something without Marinette's permission the episode right before it. Then, three episodes after "Sentibubbler," when Marinette is finally comfortable and trusts Alya completely, Alya betrays that trust. Nino betrayed that trust, knowing he wasn't supposed to do so but telling Adrien his and Rena's identity anyway, because he was losing an argument and needed to PROVE something.

Marinette gives them an inch and they take a mile. Marinette bent the rules so that they could continue to have the miraculous they'd started with and they disrespected her because it was hard for like a day.

And if this bites them back, it won't reflect poorly on them, it'll reflect poorly on Marinette.

It's not like Alya just overrode Marinette. She didn't go, "Hey, I'm telling Nino, I'm sorry," or tried her hardest to go back and forth with Marinette until they both agreed. No, she did what she told Marinette she wouldn't do without saying a word to her, because LOVE and SEEEECRETS.

And this only applies to her, of course, because don't think I didn't notice the parallels between this episode and "Truth," because WOW.

Episode begins with Marinette hoping for something and it blows up in her face? A date at the cinema that ends on a sour note? Plot-centric couple trying to get Andre's ice cream and the female with a secret needing to leave in a hurry? Boyfriend character getting akumatized over their girlfriend's secret? Boyfriend assumes/suggests that the girlfriend's secret involves Aaaaaadrien - or his alter-ego in "Rocketear"'s case - and the episode hints as much to him even though he's completely wrong? Akuma's colors are blue and black? THE BRIDGE?

But, ahhh, little difference, here and there, y'know, like how Marinette was forced to break up with her boyfriend while Alya got to keep hers, and Nino got to have long talks with Alya while Luka got little to nothing with Marinette.

Because do note that Alya, while trying to convince Marinette and talk to Nino about not keeping secrets, at no point suggests that Marinette deserves to be happy and deserves to have a boyfriend and that Marinette should be allowed to tell Luka her secret so they can get back together, so you have Alya here selfishly prioritizing her relationship with Nino while making no comment about Marinette's relationship, essentially asking Marinette to allow her what Marinette herself didn't have the luxury of, and Alya knows this because Marinette told her. It is both incredibly insensitive of Alya and incredibly insulting of the show to make so many parallels between this episode and "Truth" just to have everything crash down for Marinette because she's Marinette while everything goes well for Alya and Nino because they're not Marinette.

We've talked before about the formulas that are literally baked into the show, and one of those is how Marinette makes a mistake in every episode and has to learn from it. What that mistake is in this episode, I don't know, but considering that she apologizes for Alya and Nino's problems, I guess the show blames her for what they themselves had taught her.

Point being, there's a clear karma system in place, but it only applies to Marinette, and forcing her to mess up in every episode means that she is literally not allowed to be with Luka because had she been able to clear things up between them, he would've eagerly accepted her and they could've been happy. It'd be too difficult for her to mess up when Luka doesn't put mountains of pressure and expectations on her like everyone else. Factor that in with how she can be herself around him and it leads to situation that are too difficult for her to screw up in because her mistakes - more often than not - center around Adrien or her role as guardian.

And because another rule in the show is to bring up Adrien so they don't "lose him for too long," she can't avoid bringing him up either. If he's not in the plot, he has to be mentioned, leaving Marinette in a lose-lose situation that she'll never be free from.

So, let me just get this straight then:

The guy who spied on his girlfriend instead of talking to her about his assumptions gets to keep his girlfriend, not because he realized it was wrong regardless of whether he was correct or not, but because the situation had been cleared up for him, yet the guy who actively resisted his akumatization, saddened by his girlfriend's secrets but wanting her to share them when she was ready, gets broken up with and tossed to the wayside because he's not a rich blond boy who got a miraculous because he happened to be within the twenty meters of space where Fu was searching for new holders?

Meanwhile, the girlfriend who has gone against the wishes and insistence of her best friend - guardian of the miraculouses, by the way, so she calls the shots, something that Alya herself said in "Optigami" BEFORE GOING ON TO DO HER OWN THING IN THE SAME EPISODE AND BEING REWARDED FOR IT - is allowed to go against the wishes and insistence of her best friend again for the sake of "all love, no secrets" with her boyfriend and so she can have the happy ending she wants, yet the girl who was chosen for a miraculous without her consent, forced to screw up and talk about a random boy who doesn't even go out of his way to spend time with her, treated like absolute trash by writers who find humor in her misery, and is the only one to receive overly harsh and long-lasting consequences for her actions while also covering up and forgiving the actions of others within the episode where they do it...

doesn't get her happy ending, and won't ever get her happy ending. That thing Shadow Moth said about love and secrets not going well together? Yeah, only goes as far as the writers want it to, because both Nino and Alya still have secrets, and some of the ones they did tell each other were forced by someone else and kept until that very moment. This idea that people in love have to tell each other everything and that it makes a relationship stronger makes me immensely uncomfortable, and that lesson is also in "Guiltrip."

People should be allowed their secrets, and obviously there are exceptions for things that are being hidden with malicious intent, but being essentially forced to share everything or risk not having a "full and complete" relationship is stifling and sounds like it'd only cause stress.

This episode sucks. It furthers and confirms everything I've already thought about the show, Nino's screentime continues to be dependent on Adrien, Alya, or both, there are pointless references that completely take me out of the experience, and the utter betrayal from Alya and supposed message of the episode just reminds me that Marinette is inevitably going to be stuck with a guy who didn't even DO anything in this episode and is going to let himself stew instead of asking for any sort of clarifications from someone he apparently trusts so much.

So the takeaway is that Marinette's life is awful, she'll be forced to apologize for rules that she didn't even come up with herself, her best friend will walk all over her for the sake of her relationship with a guy - not even for the sake, really, they were going to be fine, it was more for HER personal comfort if anything - and the guy who actually makes Marinette happy and could've known her identity instead BECAUSE HE AT LEAST DIDN'T HAVE A TRACK RECORD OF SPILLING HER SECRETS gets treated in the exact same way that she does; like nothing, just something to abuse unfairly.

What a waste of an episode.

[astaroth1357]

I love reading your how to guide they're fun to read and I was wondering if you do a how to be the brother's sugar mama 🤣

So I'm not going to lie, I'm pretty sure Lucifer would let you be his Sugar Mama over his actual dead body so... I did a Sugar Baby instead. If you really want me to write the Sugar Mama, message me and I wiiilllll but I think it’s more of a stretch then I was comfortable taking otherwise. But if we're doing this at all, we're going to have to do it NSFW people. It’s going to be sort of unavoidable either way, so strap in cause I sure did.

How to be a Demon's Sugar Baby

Make the Most of Your Bartered Soul!

Well, well, well this is quite the arrangement you've made with the forces of Hell now, isn't it?  There's nothing wrong with expecting a full return on your investment since you did give away your soul for this so it's time to enjoy that compensation! While we're sure that you're ready to be spoiled rotten by your beloved demon, there are going to be certain things expected of you in order to keep that affection flowing. In our guide, How to be a Demon's Sugar Baby, we will give you insight into what kind of actions you should expect to perform as well as the benefits you can receive when you start pampering your dearest demon! Always remember, love isn't material, but having good stuff is really nice regardless!

ATTENTION: This guide contains material not suitable for all workplaces. Reader's discretion advised.

Lucifer

What a wonderful selection for this kind of relationship because this demon is loaded! You need not worry about asking for too much. Whatever your heart's desire, Lucifer can provide.

HOWEVER… He's not a very generous demon. Every cent that he gives you, you will have to earn. The man isn't in the business of giving handouts, even to cuties like yourself.

Lucifer can be a demanding Sugar Daddy for sure. He will expect you to be ready for him at the drop of a hat. One text, one call, even a passing mention of your name, and you should be there. No questions asked or you will be punished.

It pays to be astute with Lucifer, too. If you're good, then he shouldn't even have to command you. One step in the room and you should know just what to do and how he's going to want it. Though remember, even if he doesn't say much, he's in control here.

There will be times where he's not looking for a little release and just needs some relaxation. You'll, of course, be expected to provide for that too: back rubs, tea, and pleasant conversation are all options you should get acquainted with very quickly.

Understand this now, anything short of perfection is not tolerated. If he's taking you anywhere, you're going to have to look/be amazing Every. Time. He'll make sure you'll have everything for it, but there's going to be no slacking off with him. Ever.

If you're looking to satisfy Lucifer, you won't just be a side piece or arm candy. You will be a trophy and he will spoil you like one.

Mammon

So maybe you don't like your Sugar Daddy with a lot of cash, but just the inability to say "no" to you in nearly any capacity…? Then Mammon's is your perfect pick!

True, it may not be wise to choose a Sugar Daddy who seems chronically without sugar to give but if there's any gambler in you then Mammon can be a near constant rush.

His highs are your highs, if he's out gambling then he'll want you on his arm or in his lap for good luck. Cheer him on and sprinkle in a bit of teasing because he's positive he makes better bets when he feels on top of the world.

If he makes a killing, then it's an all night celebration. He may even cover you in the Grimm just to enjoy how it looks. You won't stay like that very long though, because he'll need to have his way with you quite a few times before the sun comes up.

Don't fret, most of that money that he makes is going to go towards you anyway. You won't have to worry about him putting his bills over his Sugar (even if it's ill-advised).

Do remember that Mammon is a cheapskate at heart, but you shouldn't have any trouble bypassing that if there's something you want. Flash him some big, watery eyes and he'll cave every time until he goes broke again...

And then his lows are your lows… But if you still show him kindness and compassion even when he's flat broke, we guarantee he will never leave your side.

Leviathan 

Are you an otaku/gamer/geek who wants copious amounts of that sweet, sweet merch and a little love on the side? Then you also want Levi.

Just know that this demon is desperate for love in his life so you'll be busy on most days. Levi needs to be lavished in attention: cuddles, pets, kisses, and probably more sex than you can process. He's veeery pent up...

Thankfully, he stays in his room all the time so you can do whatever you like away from prying eyes! Which is good, because he tends to get adventurous when he's confident. There won't be a spot in his room you two have not been before.

Like Mammon, Levi's going to need a cheerleader as much as he does a lover. Nothing is quite like starting a competitive match with someone very vocally in your corner.

We do hope you like anime, video games, or general geekry because he won't tolerate indifference. You need not have memorized the entirety of the TSL Extended Compendium, but you should at least be able to identify his favorite characters or scenes in anything he watches. You won't last long otherwise.

If you can then consider the entirety of Akuzon's wares to be yours. You'll only need to ask. If there's any particular series that you enjoy, expect its merch to be gifted to you whenever he sees it. He'll have very little self-control (especially if it's all for you).

Truthfully, we have no idea where Levi gets his money so just don’t question how he keeps buying you so many things... It's probably some shady cryptocurrency or black market type stuff so we recommend you stay out of his finances, lest you learn something you regret...

Satan 

Ah, an intellectual are you? Not satisfied with just a fancy new car or a designer handbag? Do you need the very best that the world has to offer? The most beautiful, artistic, and thought-provoking goods you can find?? Then really your only choice is Satan.

… But do you like pets? We sincerely hope you like pets…

In truth, Satan will want two things from you: some stimulating conversation and a little pet play.

This is very much a "gentleman by day" arrangement. He'll be sure to treat you to very nice things all the time: wine tastings, art shows, even red carpet events thanks to his connections.

He won't mind taking you anywhere as long as you can engage that brain of his. Abstract conversations or discussions about hard topics will earn you even better trips the next time around...

But "by night" you will have a nickname, a collar, and probably a tail plug too. This man is bound and determined to have a cat and he does not care how.

If the idea of crawling for him makes you want to save face then don't worry. You needn't be an obedient kitty, not even for him.

In fact, he'd much prefer you act out from time to time because if there's one thing he likes more than cats, it's brats. Be cute for him and maybe he'll go easy on you if you like.

Asmodeus 

Do you like shopping? Just, the act of shopping in general? Do you want someone who won't just sign a check but shop with you? Asmo's the man.

He loves shopping and he loves shopping for you! He won't just stand outside the dressing room on his phone, he'll be a very active participant in making you happy.

A veeerrry active participant… Everywhere… Probably including that dressing room…

You need to understand now that Asmo is insatiable. Whatever you believe a high sex drive is, double it and then you will get Asmo on a Tuesday.

He's giving. Very giving in fact, in money and in bed, but that won't change that he is a monster. His stamina is unreal, his desire is unmatched, and assuming that you are not an incarnation of Aphrodite herself You. Will. Not. Keep. Up.

If you choose to be with Asmo it will be a hellish bliss. You will be pampered like royalty on a sea of euphoria until the tide overtakes you and you drown.

If this warning isn't enough to dissuade you, we wish you the best of luck. Asmo may bring you to the greatest highs of your life, but he very much can be the death of you too...

Beelzebub 

You know, food can be expensive. Especially if you have a bit of an appetite… If an endless food supply is what you're after, then you need Beel in your life!

He'll always be down to go out and try new foods or take you to whatever restaurant you like (provided he's eating there too, of course).

Considering the amount that he eats there's no way you can top his bill so order as much as you like! You'll get through what? Four? Five courses? He'll get cut off around 12.

Restaurants aside, food will be mostly what Beel expects from you so we do hope you like cooking. Cuddles and kisses are well and good but this demon needs to eat.

Speaking of which… Truthfully, being with Beel is almost just like a normal relationship but there's just one catch….

Beel is practically an oral addict. He will want to get a taste of you and once he does you ought to resign yourself to being his new fix. 

A session with Beel is not for the faint of heart. He can be down there for hours and won't stop even if you're a drooling, overstimulated wreck. His aftercare is sweet but it's a hell of a journey getting there. Be warned.

Belphegor

So maybe all these other options just sound like too much work... You want a Sugar Daddy, but someone who's on the laidback side, right? Introducing Belphegor.

Belphie is a man of simple pleasures. A quiet afternoon, a long nap, and maybe a game or some mischief in the middle of the night. You won't have to worry about doing very much because he won't be conscious very long...

He will, however, get his money's worth in the hours that he's awake.

Belphegor is a lazy soul, so don't expect him to put much work into things. His favorite tactic will be to get you so frustrated that you jump him. Then he can just sit back and enjoy the fun with a smug smile on his face…

If you're not riding him in some way then you're probably going to be his new pillow. He will find a way to sleep on you in every position possible until he finds a favorite and just sticks to that.

As far as what he offers, Belphie will pretty much just toss money in your direction and leave it up to you to spend it. He’s not a shopping man...

In the rare cases that he does go out and buy you a gift take it as a compliment. You’ve motivated him to leave the House for longer than twenty minutes so you must be exactly what he was after.

For more of my “How Tos...” check out my Masterlist!

[mypoisonedvine]

Love, Theoretically | Sebastian Stan x reader (Chapter 1)

for @evnscvll​​‘s 3k celebration challenge, I immediately broke the rules and took only one prompt: Love, Actually.  then I made it into a series.  oops.  but she made me that lovely moodboard anyways!

summary: having lost your husband, sister, and best friend all to the same extramarital affair, you ran away to a secluded villa in the Hungarian countryside to write and get a little time away from the life you’d left behind.  you were only looking for peace and perhaps some inspiration for your novel, but instead you found an unlikely connection with the immigrant repairman-- even though the two of you don’t speak the same language.

word count: 2.3k

warnings: mention/description of infidelity, awkwardness, me teasing y’all by making this a slow burn

(quick note: I’m not fluent in romanian but I did my best to translate the dialogue as accurately as possible, rather than as literally as possible.  if you don’t speak it I would recommend not translating seb’s lines so you get the full experience of having no idea what he’s saying just like the reader in the story but I won’t tell you how to live your life)

You usually trusted your intuition, but up until now you'd convinced yourself that you were being paranoid by worrying about your husband.  Trusting him was more important than anything, and definitely more important than a strange feeling in your gut that something was wrong. 

The sad thing is, you would've never guessed that he was having an affair with your sister.  Not in a million years.  All the sneaking around, the strange stories that didn't add up… you would've put your money on a secret gambling addiction (pun unintended but welcome), or maybe that he'd secretly lost his job.

But even with all your suspicion, all your low self-esteem, all your fear that he was too good for you… nothing could've prepared you to walk in and see him with his face between your sister's legs.

He didn't even do that to you; he said he didn't like the taste.  You realized now, as you stared out the window of the train at the trees flying by, that that should've been a red flag from the start.  For a man who had claimed to be a feminist, things were never really equal in your house.  You both worked full time but you were saddled with more chores; you made more money than he did, but for some reason, you found yourself asking for his approval on large purchases; and of course, whenever you'd talked about children, he'd always just assumed you would stay at home forever and do most of the child-rearing.  He told you that you'd need to handle them when he was too tired from work-- but what about when you were tired from watching them all damn day while he was working?

God, you needed to stop thinking about this.  If you cried on this train people would probably look at you funny and you did not need that right now.  You couldn’t take any more reasons to believe people dislike you.  Even as much as you wanted to say that you didn't want or need your husband’s approval anymore, you still felt so shitty, so fundamentally worthless that he'd chosen your sister over you.  He hadn't wanted to touch you in months.  You wondered if it had been going on longer than that: when you'd blown him after that company party half a year ago, were you putting your mouth on something that had been in your sister's--?

"Something to drink, madam?" the attendant asked as she rolled by with her cart, pulling you from a very dangerous cycle of thought.

You jumped a little and looked over to her as she smiled at you-- no hint of judgment or confusion as you wiped a tear away.  In her shoes, you would be nosy and want to know more about the woman crying on the train.  Then again, maybe it was obvious to her: a woman, alone, who bought the last ticket just before the train left, carrying only a small briefcase and a few hastily-packed suitcases… a woman with nothing to lose, going nowhere as fast as possible.  Could it be anything but her having been done wrong by a man?

"Tea, please," you nodded with a smile of your own-- weaker than hers, more awkward.  You'd make a bad stewardess.

"Black or green?"

You didn't trust them to steep the green tea at the proper temperature, so you asked for black and nodded in thanks when she handed you the warm paper cup and rolled on by to the next passenger.

What really made your head spin, you considered as you sipped at your drink, was not your husband’s actions but your sister’s.  You remembered when you were both teenagers and her boyfriend had cheated on her, she’d gotten so upset with the girl he’d done it with rather than him.  You had thought that was ridiculous because the girl didn’t owe her anything.  You understood better now, and of course, your sister did owe you something.  You two had had your rough patches but overall, she’d been your best friend for most of your life.  So much so that she was the one you went to when you were worried about your husband.  She told you to give him space.  You would’ve never imagined that was her way to get you to back off, to cover her own sins and give her more freedom to shag your husband in your goddamn bed.

Yes, that was the real betrayal.  Lots of people have ex-husbands, but you couldn’t exactly turn her into an ex-sister.  You were stuck with her, but you had no plan as of yet to face her again.

The night in the sleeper car was restless, literally.  It was so dark out that you couldn’t see the trees or mountains anymore, but if you focused really hard and made sure to turn off every light in your room, you could just barely see the stars in the sky.  You hoped that you would have plenty of time to spend looking at the stars once you reached your destination.  As much as you’d loved the city lights of London for the past several years, you really needed to be somewhere that was actually dark at night.  And where the air was clean.  And, best of all, where nobody knew who the fuck you were.

You stepped out of the train and onto the platform, feeling very much like you were surrounded by people ending their stories-- reuniting with loved ones, finishing vacations-- while yours was just beginning.  Well, you supposed it made sense that most of the people travelling from London to Nyíregyháza, Hungary were probably from Nyíregyháza, Hungary.  Unlike you, who had only been here once while backpacking through the area in college and fallen in love with it.  You were lucky that the owner of the secluded cottage you’d crashed at back then had picked up the phone when you called from the train; you were especially lucky that she was willing to pick you up from the station, you not being quite dressed or prepared for backpacking.

Exiting the station and finding the cobblestone street, you were nearly tackled by a portly old woman as she tried to get your attention.

“Mrs. Alberti?!” you asked with wide eyes.

“You should at least pretend I haven’t aged a day,” she frowned, her words coated with her thick Hungarian accent.  

“I was just surprised that you’re still running the cottage!  I figured you and Mr. Alberti retired ages ago,” you explained, following her back to her car and putting your luggage in the boot.

She seemed a little crestfallen, wistfully considering your assumption.  “Well, it’s not quite what it used to be but yes, I am still the owner.  Sadly, Mr. Alberti passed away several years back.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry to hear that,” you replied, hoping to be as comforting as reasonably possible, “he was such a sweet man.”

“Yes, but he had a long illness-- and before that, lived a very full life,” she smiled confidently, walking to the driver’s seat as you followed along the other side and got in the passenger.

“It’s too bad he won’t get to see you again, though,” she continued as she started the vehicle.  Considering how old it looked, you were impressed that it worked on the first try.  “He would’ve been amazed to have a repeat customer from somewhere so far away.  I certainly am!”

“Yes, well, I have great memories from staying in the villa, and decided to go in search of some of the lust for life that I had back then-- chasing after youth never backfires, right?” you joked.

“I wouldn’t know,” she replied with a smirk.

You knew you were getting close to the old house when the roads turned from asphalt, to cobblestone, to gravel, and finally to dirt.  As much as you figured trees and grass looked basically the same everywhere, you appreciated that it somehow managed to look totally different than England.  Maybe it was the scattering of blue wildflowers, or the way the wilderness was dominating the few signs of human existence rather than the other way around.  Driving it was different than hiking it, certainly, and you wondered if you would find the time or energy to climb the foothills on the other side of the lake like you had before.  Maybe you didn’t want to find out how much athletic ability you’d lost since college…

“Here we are!” she announced as she made one last turn and yep, there it was: a lonely stone cottage, with flowers all along the walls and pink wooden shutters.  

You could tell it had aged since it had looked how you remembered, but if anything it had gained a quaint charm, with its moss and ivy and old trees which sagged under their own weight.  Figuring you would have more time to take in the scenery in the indefinite time you planned to spend here, you decided to make good time and gather your things first.

As you opened the boot and reached in to grab your luggage, someone appeared beside you and pushed your hands aside, saying something that you couldn’t parse at all.  You stepped aside and realized that it was a young man-- not horrifically young or anything, but certainly… strapping.  He shot you a smile, and you couldn’t think of the last time somebody had looked at you with so much joy on their face.

“Oh, thank you,” you nodded, letting him lift your suitcases (which he did with ease, just to make it all extra cruel).

“This is Sebastian-- he lives here and does odd jobs for me,” Mrs. Alberti informed you, "Don't waste your time talking to him; he doesn't speak a word of English."

"Oh, he only speaks Hungarian?"  You turned to him again; "Szia, hogy vagy?"

He shook his head and smiled awkwardly.

"No dear, he only speaks Romanian," Mrs. Alberti explained with a laugh.  "Can't you tell I can only afford to run this place by using cheap immigrant labour?"

"Salut," he greeted.  At least you could figure what that meant.  You chuckled uncomfortably and looked to the ground.  

You followed Sebastian and Mrs. Alberti into the house, admiring how little the interior decorations had changed-- it was all macrame and flowers in old-fashioned ceramic vases, with lots of oddball Hungarian trinkets to round it all out.  Perhaps the only thing you could notice that was different was new floorboards.

“You like the new floor?” Mrs. Alberti asked, as if she were reading your mind.  “Sebastian put that in for me.”

Sebastian seemed to perk up as he set your bags down briefly, clearly aware he was being talked about.  

“Remember?” Mrs. Alberti addressed him, motioning to the floor.  “You put in the new floor, huh?  Új emelet?”

You wondered why she’d seemed to laugh at you for trying to speak Hungarian to him, when she was doing the same thing.

“Da,” he smiled, pressing his shoe down onto the floor to apparently demonstrate the lack of creaking.  “Ți-am făcut un etaj nou.”

“Alright, go ahead and take her bags upstairs,” Mrs. Alberti instructed him, motioning to the luggage and then to the staircase.  He nodded and picked them up again, starting to walk across the room.  “He knows where your room is, just follow him,” she told you.  

The stairs, unlike the new floor, did creak, and you weren’t sure how far behind you were supposed to be on the staircase to avoid having his ass right at eye level.  You didn’t want to stare at it… but either the jeans were doing him a lot of favours, or Mrs. Alberti’s ‘odd jobs’ do a body good.  Maybe a little bit of both.

He used his back to push open the door to your room, setting your bags just inside before turning to leave again, like he thought it would be rude to step inside.

“Wait,” you requested, but he kept going-- probably the whole ‘not understanding English’ thing.  God, you were going to look so stupid at least a few more times trying to get through to this guy, you could sense it.  Forced to get his attention another way, you reached out and grabbed his arm; not hard, but it was definitely a slightly aggressive thing to do anyways.  It worked, though, and he turned around with an expectant look.  “Could you help me unload?” you asked, gesturing towards the bags.  

His brow knitted with confusion as he tilted his head.  You sighed, not sure exactly how to pantomime this.

“One of my bags,” you began, pointing to one of them, “is heavy--” a lifting motion-- “could you--” you pointed to him-- “unpack it?” 

That seemed to make more sense to him, and he stepped back into the room with you.  “Voi încerca,” he said, somewhat to himself, as you opened the suitcase.  Inside was your typewriter; he nodded with understanding and scooped it up.

“Unde?” he asked, and regardless of what it meant, you were going to show him where to put the typewriter anyways.  

“Just over there, the table by the window,” you pointed to it.  He nodded again and walked past you, setting it down, and even adjusting it a little to make sure it was centered.

“Thank you!” you piped up when he turned back to you.  And just like that, you were plunged back into awkward silence.  You pointed to him, and then the typewriter as you pantomimed typing.  “Can you type?”  He seemed to understand what you meant.

“Nu,” he shook his head, “când eram mic, trebuiau înregistrați anual.”

“...huh,” you mumbled, not sure what to do with that.   

“Plec acum,” he announced as he started to step past you again.

You cleared your throat and let him walk out the doorway.  “Right, um, have a good afternoon…”

He gave a little wave as he walked down the hall, and you sighed once he was out of sight and making his way down the creaking stairs.  You impressed yourself with your ability to embarrass yourself constantly, even with total strangers.  But, all that aside, you were finally ready to settle in and properly enjoy your change of scenery.

[erza-haninozuka]

To Say Goodbye

Characters: Lucifer x Athena (OFC), Hala (OFC), Diavolo, Barbatos, Mammon, Beelzebub. (Mentions of the remaining brothers as well)

Words: 3,088

Warnings: Angst, character death, discovery of the body. Also very slight indication of suicide. 

A/N: So I got inspired by the idea to write a one shot of one of my OC’s with Lucifer. This is based on a what if situation in which Athena never became immortal by becoming a demon. I haven’t cried while writing in a long time and this one really did me in. I even had to force myself to stop writing so this could’ve gone on a lot longer... Either way enjoy.

Ever since Lucifer had his encounter with his mate he knew that one day would come when he would have to say goodbye. 

It was inevitable as human lives were much, much shorter compared to a demon’s or angel’s. Even the halflings could live for many centuries. 

However this fact was something he let linger in his thoughts because if it ever clouded his mind he would miss out on all the wonderful times that could be shared. 

And there were countless times. 

He treasures every moment he shares with Athena, and their daughter Hala. 

Hala was their pride and joy, and the fact she had a tendency to take after him made his chest swell even more. 

She was a perfect blend of the two. She was as responsible as her father, but one to avoid if angered. Yet she was just as gentle and collected as her mother. 

Lucifer would do anything and everything in his power to protect his girls. However the one thing he truly wished to do, was something Athena had accepted long before their pup was born.

One day Athena would leave their world behind, leave behind her family and anyone else she held dear. 

Human lives were to not be tampered with. It wasn’t something Lucifer could dabble in. He could point her to spell books or anything else to keep her alive longer, but Athena turned it away. 

Like her father, she was meant to pass on. She wanted to instil what he had taught her into Hala. That all time is precious and when someone leaves, despite the pain you may feel, there’s someone in your future that’s worth the journey. 

And that day the house was eerily quiet. 

Mammon was out gambling while Levi was shut in his room. Asmo was off doing whatever he pleased, and Belphie was napping. Beelz was working out. 

Hala had finished preparing the tea for her mother the way she enjoyed before walking the halls of the House of Lamentation. She knew her mom should be waking up any moment from her nap and she wanted to surprise her with a cup of tea. 

Hala moved quietly despite her mother’s hearing having deteriorated. She opened the door to find her mother in bed, her white hair even more of a silvery tone that came with age and her wrinkled face in a peaceful slumber. 

Hala’s eyes trained on her as she set the cup down, grateful she hadn’t been startled. She smiled softly and took to sitting on the walker that had been brought in for her. 

Minutes that felt like hours drug on, and there was no movement. She didn’t stir or let out a heavy sigh. She didn’t blink tightly before opening her eyes. 

Hala frowned, realizing as the time wore on that she wasn’t close to waking up. 

How long had it been?

When did she actually drift off?

“Mom?” Hala stood, gently placing a hand on her shoulder to shake her and that’s when she knew. 

The fact she didn’t notice the details sooner made her stomach drop. 

There was no rise and fall of her chest- her body was stiff and cold. The color of her skin was even more dull than before. 

Hala’s eyes watered up as the reality came crashing down around her.

It was a day she knew would come, and no matter how much she reminded herself she would never be ready. Her hands shook as she reached for the D.D.D. in her pocket, trying to remain her composure as she dialed her father’s number. 

It rang for a brief moment before he answered, his voice gentle as always, “Hello, Hala?”

Hala opened her mouth to speak but couldn’t find the courage to utter anything out. It was taking everything to not let out a sob and startle her father even more. 

But it was evident in his voice that without a response he was already worrying. 

“Hala, where are you?” He frowned from his end of the phone when there was still no response. He was up on his feet in a matter of seconds. Upon Diavolo’s and Barbato’s confused looks, he sent them one that indicated something was wrong. “Sweetheart are you there? Are you alright?”

Hala closed her eyes tightly as a tear broke through, making the journey down her face and curling under her jaw. Fighting to find the strength to at least utter out something, a sound, a word- anything. 

“Home.” Her voice cracked like it had been weeks since she last used it. 

A million things came barreling into Lucifer’s mind. 

Had Hala been in heat and attacked by some alpha? Was Athena okay or did she have another serious fall? Question after question, and possibility after possibility filled his head. 

There were too many questions with hardly any answers, and he needed them. Now. 

Diavolo nodded his head, allowing Lucifer to know he was needed elsewhere. 

“I’ll be home in a matter of moments. Don’t move.” His body moved of its own accord, disconnecting and quickly sliding his phone into his pocket as his feet began to move. 

Lucifer cleared the distance over to the door that would take him back into their home.

Thanks to the portal he was there in a matter of seconds. 

His instincts were running at one hundred percent as he quickly moved from his private study towards his room. 

The closer he got the foggier his brain felt. 

Something about the scent radiating from the room was different- far different from what he was used to. 

It wasn’t like the scent that Athena put off when she was in pain from the delivery of their pup, nor was it the same as when she had gotten seriously injured. 

There was no sign of distress on her part. 

But something about one of the notes felt oddly familiar, but he couldn’t place it. 

Lucifer drew the door open in a panic as his gaze immediately fell onto his daughter. 

She was shaking and the moment her red gaze landed on him she broke. 

He watched his daughter let out a pained sob as her knees gave out, and in the moment her knees collided into the carpet he began to piece it all together. His eyes drifted past her onto his mate. 

Tears joined his daughter on the floor as he made his way into the room. 

The day he never wanted to come had finally arrived, and he questioned just how her father had gone through the pain of losing his mate- how he had gone through the pain of losing someone he loved twice. 

He knelt down and pulled Hala into his arms, attempting to soothe his daughter despite losing his composure himself. 

“I just came to bring her tea and she didn’t wake up,” she choked out. 

He hushed her gently as he rubbed her back. 

Lucifer tried to stay strong in the face of his daughter, trying to not shake as he held her. Everything in his body screaming to betray him, the only thing that managed to betray him was the tears that went down his face. 

He needed to get her out of there- needed to get her calm enough.

But the longer he sat there, the more his body didn’t want to move. 

Despite her lifeless body, he couldn’t leave- he wouldn’t dare leave his mate behind.

Minutes ticked by as he sat there holding his sobbing daughter as his mind was still reeling from the fact she was gone.

She was really gone.

Diavolo and Barbatos appeared in the doorway, the gravity of the situation hitting them instantly. 

A frown covered Diavolo’s face as he recalled the last time he had seen Lucifer in such a state. And even when he was on the verge of losing Lilith, he was not this broken.

Barbatos knew what to do in an instant as he came into the room, “Hala, can you come with me please?” 

Lucifer’s hold loosened as she stood with the help of Barbatos. The omega took her from the room and towards the dinning room to help her calm down.

Diavolo cleared his throat as he watched his best friend on the floor, unsure what to do or how to console him since he had yet to experience this pain. 

“I wasn’t here,” he muttered out. “I could’ve- I should’ve.” His jaw clenched as more tears came rolling down his face. “This can’t be it, she can’t be gone.” 

“I’m sorry, there isn’t anything we can do.” Diavolo swallowed past the lump that swelled in his throat, “However we should start with taking her body to be prepared. I don’t think we should leave her in here.” 

However the man didn’t dare to step further into the room. Despite being able to handle Lucifer if he were to attack, he still didn’t want to set the alpha off into a panicked rage.

“Give me a moment, I just lost my mate,” he brokenly growled.

Diavolo nodded and stepped away from the room, shutting the door. He made his way to the dinning hall to check up on Hala.

Lucifer used what he could muster up to rise to his feet, clearing the remaining distance over to his bed. He immediately collapsed beside her, the bed sinking further from his weight as his forehead immediately pressed to her cold cheek. His chest felt heavy as he finally let out a pained sob, tears wetting her skin as they poured out.

He would give anything to go back to this morning- go back to when Athena was still smiling. He would’ve taken a moment longer in bed. A moment longer getting ready- telling her he’d return later.

How he wanted to feel the warmth of her lips against his once more, hearing her chuckle softly as she urged that she would be okay.

“I didn’t want to say goodbye like this.” He finally pulled away, brushing some hair behind her ear. “I never wanted this to happen. I wanted you here to remain with me- with us.” 

“I understand. As much as I would love to stay with you and Hala for eternity, I can’t. It’s a part of what’s natural for us humans. In a way it helps us treasure our lives even more and give it meaning. It pains me, but I know this day will come. It’ll come and I’ll have to say goodbye, and all that will remain is the child we’ve made and the memories we shared.”

“I don’t want the memories. I wanted our eternity. But I knew the disappointment you would have if I dared to betray your wish.” He gulped thickly as he pulled the covers back, her scent hitting him even more. 

Lucifer carefully dried his face, needing to compose himself long enough to get Athena out of the room and to where her body could be prepared. His body screamed in betrayal as he stood, carefully lifting her into his arms, and carefully taking her from the room.

Diavolo must’ve informed his brothers or Hala called for them because they were all in the hall. 

“Would it be best if one--”

Satan immediately hit Mammon on the back of the head, “He would attack you for touching her right now.” 

Lucifer gave them a look, too heartbroken to scold Mammon, “Just get the door for me…” 

Mammon moved quickly, being sure to open the doors Lucifer needed so he could place Athena’s body onto the table to be prepared. 

Once she was placed down Lucifer immediately left the room and headed for his office. The room began to spin as he caught himself on the wall. For once in his life hurling up the contents of his stomach into a trash can before collapsing down beside it. 

Meanwhile Beelzebub held onto his niece tightly.

She gave her uncle a small, forced smile. “Thank you Uncle Beelz. I’ll be okay eventually. I don’t think I can cry anymore right now.” 

Diavolo hummed, “It pains us all knowing she’s gone but you and your father need time to process everything. I can have the funeral set for the day after tomorrow if you would like.” 

Hala gulped thickly, “No. All that would do is prolong her body being here and I don’t think me or my dad can handle that. It’s best if we proceed with it taking place tomorrow so we can say goodbye then have her buried.” 

Diavolo nodded as Barbatos began to set everything in motion. 

Hours whisked away, crawling into the early morning as the day's events were left behind.

Lucifer had managed to pull himself into his seat many hours ago, sitting at his desk drinking the demonous he had stored away.

However the contents were long since emptied and the bottle laid on the floor. 

Lucifer leaned back in the chair and opened up the draw, finally pulling out the file that contained letters along with her will. 

Despite not having much, Athena still wrote up her will full of her wishes of what she wanted done with her remaining possessions and most of all, her body.

His thumb ran across the cover, eyes fixated on her hand writing before letting out a breath and opening up the file.

He expected to find her will on top, however there sat an envelope with his name written across. The handwriting was far different from the rest. This one was a bit shaky. It couldn’t have been from her age he chalked up. He had seen her write many times even in her old age and none of them were shaky like this.

He gulped past the lump that formed as he pulled it from the stack. Fear settling in of what it may contain.

Lucifer pushed past the fear and tore it open before pulling out the letter, unfolding it to see that there were parts of the paper that seemed a bit warped. 

Instantly he knew. 

It was warped from her tears, which meant she wrote this when she was crying. 

His body betrayed him as he crumbled the page, knowing he most likely wasn’t there to console her when she was writing this. 

“Fuck,” he muttered out as he quickly smoothed it out, careful to not accidentally rip it. 

His gaze immediately reading the contents.

“Lucifer, my beloved, I’m writing this because something is telling me I don’t have much longer left. I know I already had something written up for you once I’m gone but I felt there was something that I really needed to say. Even if I addressed it before, it’s definitely something you need to know or have reiterated.”

He gulped thickly as the tears once again clouded his vision.

“I know once I’m gone just how hard it’s going to hit you. I can say I wish the roles were reversed but I truly don’t know how I’d react if I lost you. But I do remember a conversation I shared with my father many years ago before we met. It was shortly after I lost my mother. My father was shaken up about losing her, but the way he allowed himself to grieve before picking himself up again really seemed to resonate with me. He truly was a strong man. Losing his mate in his early years and then losing my mother. I questioned it when he told me. Because I thought losing your mate was so painful and heartbreaking it was like you were experiencing death yourself- or even dying yourself.”

“It definitely is,” he said weakly.

“The pained smile he gave me is not something I could ever forget. He told me of how he wished he had died instead of her, or even how he was no longer around to bear a world without her. But as much as he wanted the pain to end, there was also a fear that kept his heart heavy. He feared leaving everyone else he loved behind. He feared missing out on his future, and finding someone else he could love. He told me days would be easier than others, and even when my mother came into the picture there were days he was still grieving as if it had just happened. My mother helped him through those painfully tough days. In her own way she made him so happy. The love was different, but he did truly love her. And when they found out they would be having me he was overcome with joy. He said if he left the world behind he never would’ve had me. I was special to him and he was so grateful for me being a part of his life. Lucifer, it’s something I’ve wanted Hala to know. You’ve known this ever since you allowed me to get close to you after accidentally impregnating me. I’ve wanted Hala to know her life doesn’t have to end when her mate’s does. There are people out there deserving of her love- people she would love and be grateful for. But I think it’s something important you should know too. I know the pain may never go away for as long as you should live, and there will be times I may be gone from your mind in the future. And that’s okay. Just please, please keep living for me. Keep nurturing memories with Hala. As much as I wish I could be there to wipe your tears and hold you- console you, I can’t. I will always love you and that will never change. Just please do not waste away because I’m gone. Because as much as I hate to admit it, I am nothing but a fragment in your life. But I am grateful I got to be a part of it, no matter how small. Please, promise me you’ll take care of Hala. She’s going to need you. But most of all, take care of yourself. Love always, your wife, Athena.”

His tears fell onto the paper, some landing where hers had fallen prior, while others landed elsewhere. The ink reacted as he immediately sat forward to set it down on his desk. 

Even though she knew she would eventually be gone it was clear she thought of them. 

Despite being unsure, his eyes went over to the photo of her that sat on his desk, gently reaching out and stroking the glass, “I promise.” 

[adam-t-cox]

Traditional Publishing Overview

So, you've finished your manuscript, its all polished up and ready for... what exactly? If you're anything like me after the first 24 hours of elation wear off you'll be asking yourself, "What the $&*! do I do now?”

I've been considering starting this blog for a while but didn't want to do it until I’d finished publishing my own work. Now that I have, I’m amazed at just how much work an author still has left once they’ve finished their manuscript. I’ll be sharing whatever knowledge I gained during my journey in a series of posts in the hopes that fellow first-time authors might be able to save some time and effort during this extremely complicated and often demoralizing process.

So first off: Congratulations! Finishing a manuscript is no small feat and should be celebrated. After you’re done celebrating, the first thing you’ll want to consider for the next leg of your journey is what type of publishing method you want to pursue for your book.

Let’s start by talking about traditional publishing. For most authors, this is the path we think of when we picture our books on the shelves of an Indigo, Coles, or Barnes & Noble. But how does this process work and how long does it take?

First let’s outline the process itself:

1.      Query letters to Literary Agents/Agencies

2.      Rejections/Revisions/Offers of Representation/Acceptance

3.      Waiting…

4.      Agent finds a publisher

5.      Further revisions or changes requested by editor at publishing house

6.      Revisions are approved and work begins on formatting and cover design

7.      Book scheduled for release.*

*There may be additional edits or work requested during the formatting and design process before the book’s initial release. But from what I’ve heard its usually minor stuff.

 Now I’ll be going into more detail on the steps that I have experience with in later posts, but I’ll give you the quick version here. Basically, in traditional publishing very, and I mean VERY few publishers will accept unsolicited manuscripts directly from authors. I can count on one hand the amount I’ve found in Canada, and I never found one in the US. All the ones I found in Canada dealt with children’s literature or non-fiction titles, so they were a no go for me. Which means you need a literary agent to pitch your book to publishers for you.

The agent or agency has their reputation to throw around and likely already has a good working relationship built with the publishing houses they’ll be pitching to. So not having one makes it essentially impossible for you to do anything with your manuscript. Now, this may seem unfair, and feel like someone is intentionally setting up barriers to keep you out. That’s because essentially they are, and for a completely understandable reason.

You are an unproven writer; no one knows if you’re the next Stephen King or Terry Pratchett yet. For every great or even good writer out there, there’s hundreds of not-so-great ones, and you’re all competing to have your voices heard. The publishing houses have enough work on their plates without filtering through this noise on a daily basis. Hence the role of the Literary agent. A liaison between the author and the publisher, with the goal of publishing your work in a way that satisfies everyone involved, while also getting the two of you paid.

So first you have to write a query letter to agents. Which is a topic that will require its own post to explain in enough detail. You will probably craft a handful at a time and wait for responses to filter in before sending more out. You will get rejections, and a lot of them, it happens to everyone. Don’t let it discourage you, you wrote an entire manuscript after all, we already know you can work past disappointments and move on.

Now, if you’re lucky enough to get the hallowed ‘offer of representation’, you will probably be thinking, “Amazing! My book will be published in a month.” but just hold on a second. It’s still going to be a while before you get there. There are likely going to be requests for edits from the editor at the publishing house. Which, if you’ve already signed the paperwork, are mandatory and may not be negotiable at all if you want your book to see the light of day. Then there’s the formatting work, cover designing, and figuring out where in their lineup of book releases your title will end up.

All in all, based on my own experiences, and from what I’ve heard from a few others, this process could take anywhere from 1.5 to 4 years to complete.

“Up to 4 years?!” I hear you yell at your phone or computer screen. Yes, it could easily take that long. Finding a literary agent alone could take 1-2 years, especially if you are working full or part-time while pursuing this. Also, you are likely a first-time writer, and the publishing house is taking a gamble that your title will sell. It’s not guaranteed income for them like the sequel to a best seller from a well-known author would be.

So why bother doing it if its going to take so long?

Well, there are LOTS of benefits from publishing your book through a publishing house and using a literary agent. Here are some of the biggest ones that made me try this method first:

1.      If you do well, they do well:

There is a real incentive for the people you will be working alongside to help you better your product, your writing, and give you advice. These are people who have worked in the industry for many years and have extensive knowledge of what works, and what doesn’t. That is incredibly valuable.

2.      Professional Editors:

By now you’ve edited your own work about 1000 times right? Well guess what, there’s still mistakes. Trust me … I know. A good editor at a publishing house can really help polish your manuscript, improving the overall reading experience of your readers. Also, they are great at finding the plot holes you are still blind to.

3.      You don’t have to focus on managing your book:

This is probably the biggest boon that traditional publishing will give you as a writer vs. self publishing. Especially if you already have more books in the series or your next stand-alone ready on the back burner. Once they approve any edits they request, everything else is pretty much hands off for you. Sure, you might get an email or a call about some aspect they want to go over with you (Cover design, formatting, maybe another small edit.) but for the most part you’re done until its time for the release and your shameless promotion of your book to anyone and everyone. This means no late nights formatting each individual release of your book (ePub, PDF, Paperback, Hardcover, KPF, Apple Books, etc.), no hunting for artists or cover designers, and no extensive marketing campaigns to manage after release. Just you and your computer, working on your next big thing. This will save you so much time it’s not even funny.

 There are of course other reasons why traditional publishing may be right for you, but these were the big ones that made me pursue it. Personally, even though it didn’t work out for me with my book, I still think it’s worth a shot for most authors. And for the record I still plan to pursue acquiring a literary agent for my future projects.

But with that I think I’ll call this overview done and like I said, I’ll be going into more detail in later posts, so stay tuned.

Have a good one,

-Adam

P.S. The next post in this series will be about the steps involved in self-publishing and some of its biggest advantages.

[hitsuackerman]

Unpredictable (Overhaul x Reader) pt.3

a/n: I just saw a post with Overhaul without his jacket... BRUH. the infinite possibilities of--- yeah I’ll save that for the next parts XD enjoy the 3rd part :)

warnings: this cannot be read solo, cursing(?), subtle flirting

Links: part 1, part 2, part 4

Masterlist to my other fics: here :)

Overhaul’s waiting list: @jjk-biased​ @infinite-universe-love​

“Okay.” Tsukauchi said as he took the seat across from you. His outstretched hand returning the envelope he had cross-checked. “There really will be a gala at the said area at the said date.”

“Who are the possible plus ones I can bring?” You asked. Your eyes glued to your desktop. As of the moment, you were digging up some articles about one of the minor cases you were working on. Of course, you could skim through articles and talk to your workmate. It was as easy as breathing by now.

“There’s only 3 possible candidates.” He began to enumerate. “Me. Shinezu. Namase.”

“Shinezu?” You stopped reading and stared at him. “You’re kidding me right?”

“Perhaps~” He joked. “I mean it would be nice to bring him along and expose him to the outside world. The kid needs a social life. All locked up in his office. Only going out when absolutely necessary. The exposure would do him good.”

Your focus glided to Shinezu’s office. It wasn’t for you to judge but it was clear as day he was happy as a loner and would dread any sort of unwanted communication. The fact that he was even part of this small select group of people was a miracle itself. Though, you had to admire his intellect. Nothing went past him.

“I was actually planning on taking the man himself.” You broke the news. Somehow that sentence caused your heart to pick up its speed by a little. The sound of Tsukauchi’s chair rolling towards you caused a bit of discomfort. “Think about it. He has more ties than I will ever have and his quirk would surely intimidate the boss. It’s a gamble on my part as to how he would carry himself but he’s level-headed. So far.”

“You sure about that?” His voice was much nearer now.

“Nope.” There was no use in lying to this person. “I’m just pulling threads here. But, his title might draw me closer to the main goal here. Besides, I’d like to see him without that horrendous jacket.”

“You’re not being affected by his charm now, are you?” Tsukauchi pried as he slowly went back to his work space. “We all know just how manipulative he can get.”

Gathering a few folders and envelopes, you placed them onto your bag. Fixing your hair, you stood up and went towards his area. Leaning onto the partition, you fixed the strap of your bag and crossed your arms.

“I don’t like being interrogated, Nao.” You said. “But if it gives peace to your running mind, here is my answer. I’m being as cautious as I can be. There’s nothing more to it.”

You waited for a response but by the looks of it he was either using his quirk on you or he was satisfied with your answer. The latter, hopefully. Excusing yourself, you exited the precinct and looked for the nearest coffee shop. If there was one thing the office needed, it was better coffee.

Your nearest bet was a 5 minute walk from where you stood. Looking at your watch, you had a couple of minutes to spare before interviewing a few civilians. Beginning your short walk, your mind drifted back to the plus one. Tsukauchi didn’t give you the go signal for it. Was this now all on you or would you have to consult him one more time?

Your hand was now fiddling with your phone in your pocket. Trying to single out the possibilities were rather tricky. The neon sign for the shop was now above you. You had been so lost in thought that you failed to realize you had arrived at your destination. Leaning on the door, you dragged yourself in and waited in line.

With the events going on, this called for a sweet drink. Something with chocolate in it. A sugar rush was something you needed.

You were currently the 3rd person in line. Pulling your phone out, you checked for any notifications. There was one. Clicking it open, it stated that the meeting you scheduled to have for next week had been pushed to today. Picturing your schedule, you had some free time later in the afternoon. Nodding, you sent out a reply and moved a step forward.

The day had just begun and things were starting to become busy. Thank gods the coffee shop smelled amazing. The exposed beans generously spread out its aroma around the cafe. Soft jazz music played in the background, enough to blend in with the buzzing chit chats of customers. A hint of mayoram and geranium gifted your sense of smell.

‘Wait..’ Your eyes began to scan the area. There was only one person whose wallet could afford such a scent.

“For an officer,” Overhaul said from behind you. “You’re quite slow.”

Pivoting, you were face to face with him. A new and very identical jacket replacing the old one. However, there was something off about his look today. His golden orbs simply stared back at you. Taking in your puzzled features. Then it hit you. A gasp escaped your mouth.

“Did the bird fly away or is this a new look?” He was without the bird beak. Instead, a simple black mask covered the lower half of his face. What was he hiding underneath that mask? Did he have a scar on his lip? A burn? If his eyes were breathtaking, what could possibly even out such a marvel? Subtly, you shook your head. What in the world were you thinking?

“I choose whether or not to wear the mask.” He replied. His latex wrapped hands motioning you to move forward. “This is one of the cleanest cafes that live up to my standards. It may not look like it but the smell of coffee beans are rather attractive.”

“It’s been a while, (Y/N)!” The employee greeted you. She giggled at how she broke your train of thought. It was something she barely got to see after all. “Will you have the usual?”

“Uh, N-no. For today, I’d like a choco chip supreme with less ice.” Your cheeks began to burn up as you had stuttered. Reaching for your wallet, you felt a foot gently kicking you. Looking up at the source, you stepped aside and waited for his move.

“2 Americano’s.” Overhaul ordered. In the corner of his eyes, he saw how your cheeks were beginning to turn a faint shade of red. As expected, this was interesting for him. “I’ll pay for her order as well.”

“You don’t have to.” You put up your palms and were only met with silence as he handed the payment.

“Put it under her name.” He instructed the employee to which she agreed. When both of you were given the line to wait for your orders, Overhaul signed for you to follow him to a vacant table near the window. Pulling the seat, he waited for you to sit down. To which you did.

“What do you want, Overhaul?”

“Can I not spend time with the person I’m assisting?” His hands remained on his lap. Sure, the table was clean but he wasn’t taking chances. Glancing at the window, his stare glued to the black car parked across the street. He could imagine Chrono inside slowly losing his patience. “I merely wanted an update for your plus one.”

“I’m still thinking about it.”

“Bring the first person that pops in your mind.” He tilted his head once more. “Isn’t that how you people think?”

“So you’re not a person?”

“I’m clean compared to you.”

“I’ll have you know I’m a clean person.” You pouted and pointed your index at him. The way his eyes widened with fear at the possible contamination was rather amusing. “You just wouldn’t know because you're afraid of dust. I bet your immune system is low.”

“Hmph. On the contrary, my health is pristine and well taken care of. I simply choose not to touch filthy people like you. I do make exceptions every now and then.”

“They must be blessed.” You rolled your eyes and the sound of your name broke through the jazz and chatter. “Well, make yourself useful and get our orders.”

“Of course.”

That had to make you wonder. He did not flinch, show any signs of annoyance, or even scoff at your command. Instead, Overhaul silently lifted his chair and made his way towards the counter. Seeing him bow as he received the beverages was weird. For someone who murders people, he sure is polite when it comes to mannerisms. Perhaps, those traits of his were already present. Even before becoming a villain.

When he sat back down, he took a tissue and wrapped it around your cold drink. Placing it in front of you along with the straw.

“Be my plus one.” You blurted out. Your view focused on him.

“Wouldn’t have it any other way.” He stood up and lowered his head. “I shall pick you up at 6. Is that fine?”

“Yeah.”

“If nothing else, I shall leave you be. Chronostasis must be fuming by now.” Before turning to leave, he had the audacity to add. “If you’ll excuse me.”

Following his body, you stared as he crossed the street and entered the same car he had been eyeing at.

Inside the car. Overhaul closed his eyes and listened to the small complaints his companion had. The visit to the shop was never intended but when he saw your figure walking down the street and entering the quaint shop, the decision to stop the car only caused Chrono to wonder.

Handing him the bird mask, he watched as his boss wore the contraption.

“Send the RSVP later.” He instructed. His voice muffled once again. “Use the alias we usually hand out for events like this. And call in the tailor. I’ll be needing a new suit.”

“That woman has taken your interests.” He commented.

“No.”

“Then why bother following her?”

“I did not follow her, Kurono.” He corrected his assistant. “It was merely chance running into her at this time of day. Besides, it’s amusing how she does not seem to hold such fear when I am around.”

Curling the sleeves of his jacket, he observed his skin. Not a sign of breakouts. In his subtle attempts to place himself close to you, he had come to the conclusion that you were relatively pure. Save for your quirk of course.

Speaking of quirk, there were still no updates regarding that information. Imagining the sum of money the Abegawa Tenchu Kai had to pay to keep that hidden was something he had to praise. The same could be said for his real name. Did you even know what his name was? Or were you left with redacted articles regarding that?

Closing his eyes once more, his thoughts went to the headquarters where his experiments were now running a bit late. Still, a few minutes delay was something he could live by.

Meanwhile, you were now preparing what explanation to give Tsukauchi. You had already given him a reasonable explanation as to why you would want to go with Overhaul. It also wouldn’t be the first time you would inform him of such unconventional choices you made. Ruffling your hair, you clicked your tongue and took a deep sip. “Uhm, (Y/N)?”

From the window, your view shifted to the employee. In her hand was a tray with a blueberry cheesecake. A shy smile resting on her feminine features. Scratching her nape, she let out an awkward giggle.

“The man told me to give you this after he left.” She said as she placed the dessert on the shiny brown surface.

“Oh, uh, thank you.” You stared at the cheesecake and immediately took your phone. Looking for the unknown number, you were only hoping that this was his personal number and not one that would alert the whole Shie Hassaikai. Sending the message with a rapidly beating heart, you cursed yourself for feeling this way.

To calm you down, you scrolled a little further and finally dialed your partner.

“Nao. I’m taking Bird boy with me.”

A long sigh was heard on the other side of the call. If you could bet money, you were sure he was massaging the bridge of his nose and leaning onto his chair.

“As much as I do not trust him, that would have to be the best decision for now,”

That went… smoother than you had initially thought.

“What’d you just gather?” Curiosity lacing your voice.

“A lot of big names are invited but we noticed that a handful of them are villains. Notably Akuji, Nokusu, and if our records are right, Tamisura.”

“Shit.”

----

are yall enjoying the story so far? :’) comment or message me if you want to be a part of Overhaul’s waiting list or any questions about the story :)

[arinmelnikov]

WE SURVIVE, BUT IT NEVER ENDS

     When Arin came home that night, the apartment was empty – dark, save the hallway light and one of the lamps in the living room. He slid his finger along the dimmer switch when he passed it, brightening the quiet room a little before he passed through, headed to the bathroom to rinse off the day. He threw his clothes in the washer as he undressed, setting the program to dry them when they were done. There had been something of Queenie’s lying in there, too, but he didn’t check what it was, smacking the door shut and tapping the start button on the screen on the panel before stepping into the shower.

     The night crept on, dragging its small hours along by the teeth, and still the door didn’t open. Restlessness and impatience drowned out the fatigue he was feeling – accompanied by a stab of unease, setting him on edge. Finally, grabbing his phone, he called Queenie’s number, absentmindedly pacing in front of the large frosted windows while he waited for her to pick up.      “Queenie’s phone.” A masculine voice answered him. It wasn’t Julian, nor Jasper, nor anyone else it was likely for her to be around, and yet… there was something familiar about it.    “Who the fuck are you?” Arin demanded, pausing his pacing.      “Who the fuck are you?” The voice shot back, clearly amused. Arin grew irritated.    “I’m who’s gonna turn you inside out if you don’t quit fucking around and tell me where the fuck she is.”      “Don’t worry, Arin, she’s perfectly fine.” He froze. His left hand rose on its own to the side of his neck, rubbing over needle marks and a splotchy bruise that were no longer there. “I’ve got her right here.” Rowan’s pitiful sobbing echoed in his memory, a miserable undertone to the very same voice he was currently hearing over the phone. Nobody’s coming for you. They don’t care. They expect you to give your life for them, but what have they done to deserve it? Listen to me, Rowan; you don’t owe them your allegiance. I know you don’t approve of the horrible things they do. I know you didn’t want to be a part of it – just like I don’t want you to be suffering this pain. All you have to do to make it stop is tell me…

     “It’s Ulrich Falke. Got arrested after–” Queenie’s voice pulled him from his thoughts, a mix of relief and dread washing over him as she let out a huff of laughter. She was alive, but she was with Ulrich fucking Falke, and his hand tightened into a fist when it dropped back to his side, his knuckles turning white. “I lost a fight. Since something tells me he’ll wanna make sure that part is well established. He думаю, что он собирается–” The line went dead quiet. Arin listened closer, his brows furrowing, but there was nothing.    “Я тебя не слышу,” he said, but still there was nothing. Lowering his phone, he glanced at the screen – the call was still connected.      About a minute passed before the call returned, and it wasn’t Queenie speaking anymore.      “Sorry about that. We forgot to practice our script.” Arin felt his blood boil, anger seeping into his voice when he answered.    “What the fuck. Do you want.”      “You have something that belongs to me,” Ulrich explained, as if Arin had stolen his fucking wallet or something equally trivial but ultimately inconvenient. “Bring her here, and I will let Queenie go.”    “Bullshit.” His voice was harsh, a snarl twisting his lips when he spoke. The scenario was clear: as soon as Arin arrived, Rowan in tow, Agent Falke would clap all three of them in irons and haul them off to be executed… or worse. Even if he thought the Government fuck at the other end of the line would prove true to his word, there was no way in hell he’d do it. He wouldn’t drag Rowan into even deeper shit, and he certainly wouldn’t negotiate with a tyrannical bag of dicks for Queenie’s freedom. No. He’d get her back, and he’d make Ulrich Falke regret ever being born. Enough. Enough. Fucking enough. No. Fucking. More. The whole thing was going to end in blood, and it wasn’t going to be his, or hers, or Rowan’s.      “Maybe.” Ulrich was moving around; Arin heard a door opening and closing. “But there’s only one way for you to find out. Are you willing to gamble with her life?”    “You’re never gonna fucking see Rowan again.” She was never even going to find out about this; not from him – her head was fucked enough as it was.      “So you do have her.” More sounds in the background. A car door?    “Yes, you shriveled cunt.” Arin lied, gritting his teeth. Thinking of Garrett and his little fucking house in the desert way out west of absolutely fucking nothing. “Who the fuck else?”      “Well. You have until sunrise. You know where we are?” Arin had Queenie’s location on his phone. All it would take was a couple of taps. He said nothing. “Good. Don’t be late. Queenie and I will wait for you until six – and then we’ll go somewhere you can’t follow.” Into Government custody? He could still hear her voice, the Russian sentence Ulrich had interrupted when he’d muted the call: I think he’s gonna… What? “Do svidaniya, Arin.” Asshole.    “Я собираюсь убить тебя, мать твою.” A growl, a promise, and then – with an infuriating fucking chuckle – Agent Falke hung up, leaving him in the silence of the apartment, emptier now than it had been five minutes ago.

     There was no time to waste. Arin forced his pulse down as he went into the bedroom to change his clothes, dropping his phone on the bed before he headed towards the closet, tugging his t-shirt and sweatpants off along the way and discarding them on the floor. The bag with the Government gear he’d taken from the fake smugglers’ den with that annoying ex-Killjoy asshole was still lying at the bottom, open and half emptied, devoid of the shit they’d come to need for some purpose or other since he’d brought it back. There were clothes in there, he knew, feeling around until his hands touched fabric and he pulled out a black pair of military pants that he put on before returning to the bathroom for the belt he’d been wearing earlier.      Back in the closet, he found an armored, long-sleeved shirt, just as black as the pants, and pulled that on, too, glancing down at his torso when it was covered, turning an arm over in the light. Bulletproof, he wondered, or just padded to lessen a blow? He hadn’t tested it – nor was he planning to get shot tonight, but he supposed if it came down to it, he’d find out, and whatever it was, it was better than nothing.      By the time he was finished dressing, working quickly as he forbade his mind to focus on anything other than what he needed, Arin would’ve set off a metal detector from across a room. He had knives in his boots, strapped to his forearm underneath his sleeve, a bundle of throwable ones in one of the pockets on the pants, flash grenades in another. There was a pistol on the outside of his right thigh, an extra magazine and a silencer fastened to its holster – and a sub, one of the twin pair Queenie had given him, in another holster on his left side, at his ribs. For that, he had two extras. There was no way to know whether she and Ulrich were the only people in whatever building he’d taken her to, or if there’d be a whole fucking squadron waiting for him there; the only thing he was absolutely certain about was that it’d be some kind of trap. He left the bedroom, cracking his neck once on either side as he walked, only stopping in the hallway to pull his boots on – lacing them up tightly – and to grab his keys.

     He drove fast, engine muted, headlights off, down the empty roads that stretched between the industrial buildings that crowded the Electrical District. Most in use, some decommissioned, bought up by a different company, put back in use and then left again to be bought up by somebody else, a pointless cycle of faceless shell corporations that probably were mainly Government-owned, anyway. A chunk were fully abandoned, but even that was untrustworthy, as they had a tendency to end up occupied by people or groups who needed someplace to do whatever the fuck it was they wanted to do that the Government wasn’t supposed to see. The location of Queenie’s phone was displayed on the screen on his dashboard, his route plotted out for him, though he didn’t really need it, and the only reason he’d pulled it up in the first place was so that he wouldn’t have to double-check the building on his phone when he arrived.

     When it came into view, he parked down the street, then made a careful approach, staying hidden as much as the buildings and the shadows that flocked around the illuminated pools the streetlights made on the pavement would allow. Arin circled the structure once, seeing no sign of anyone, no cars outside, nothing – but he still wasn’t about to walk in through the main entrance. His eyes scanned the spacious back area he found himself in after his perimeter search: the loading dock, the metal doors, the padlocked gates… no way to get in quietly, and no way to get up. He went around the side of the building, coming to a narrow passage where it pressed close against the annex that stood beside it, also locked up and sealed tight, but it had a roof access ladder clinging to the wall of its second floor, retracted and locked in place behind a cylindrical cage. There was no way for a random passerby to reach it from the ground, but fortunately for Arin, he was nothing of the sort.      A stack of wooden pallets stood by the door of the annex, their combined height reaching his chin. They looked a little rotted, but he was sure they’d hold his weight, and they did, not budging or making a sound when he hauled himself up to stand on them. One step was all he had room for to give himself some impetus, but one step was all he needed. He jumped, straight across the narrow alley, his boots hitting the wall of the main building where he pushed off again, a powerful kick to propel himself even higher, his body twisting around in midair as he reached for the cage of the access ladder on the annex… then his fingers closed around cold metal and did not let go. Tightening his core and forcing his legs backwards, he lessened the swing his momentum demanded from his limbs, then heaved himself up using his hands, one rung at a time until he was high enough to get a foothold. He scaled the outside of the round cage, not bothering with the ladder, moving to the side of it when he arrived at the top and pushing himself onto the roof. Back on his feet, he retreated a few steps, then ran to the edge again and leapt across to the main building, landing safely on the other side. There was a door up there, padlocked, like the gates on the loading dock below, but the latch that held the mechanism in place was rusted brown, peeling and crumbling. Arin freed his gun from the holster at his thigh and held it by the barrel, raising it over his shoulder and bringing it down hard, clubbing the latch with the grip. The thing broke in half, and he pulled the door open, slipping through.

     Inside was a dark stairwell, the simultaneously heavy and faint scent of dust hanging in the stagnant air. He slipped his pistol back into place as he descended the steps, swapping it for the SMG. At the bottom, marking the end of a short hall, was another door where he stopped for a moment, listening for movement, voices, anything. There was nothing. Everywhere, more fucking nothing. He stepped out, weapon aimed in front of him, into an open space that didn’t look like anyone had set foot in it in years. Every piece of equipment and machinery was draped in cloudy plastic sheeting, and the table he could see through a window into the meeting room had its chairs upended on it, seats resting against the grimy surface, metal legs jutting into the air like bird spikes on the edge of a roof.      To his left, a hallway led to more offices, but – Arin glanced at his phone – Queenie’s was supposed to be somewhere in the center of the building, and his surroundings were empty, so he went off in search of the stairs instead, heading to the ground floor.      Still nothing. The first floor was as desolate as the second, if a little less dusty. There was a light on by the entrance, illuminating the murk and reflecting off the mottled windows beside it, the only sign so far that someone had been here. After a quick and fruitless sweep of the area, he returned to the stairwell, taking the last set of steps down to the basement.

     He was ready to shoot when he stepped into the large, square opening that mouthed into the room, smaller than both floors upstairs – but just like them, it was fucking empty. Unlike them, he knew immediately that this was where they’d been. There was a chair placed against one of the pillars in the center, and a bunch of random shit littered a table that stood near it, most notable of which was a phone leaned up against a yellow can, facing the stairs. Squashing the rage that flared up in him, he entered, lowering the sub as he approached.      Stopping in front of the table, he reached out for the phone, slipping it into his palm and waking the screen. Queenie’s. Fuck. Fuck. Fu– A metallic pop froze him, his gaze searching the table until it landed on a tiny lens – staring unblinkingly back at him from the tab on the opened can – a millisecond before a sharp, prolonged hiss sounded from somewhere underneath the table. Fucking gas. He’d been holding his breath since the first unexpected sound, the tempo of his pulse increasing as he backed away towards the stairs, flipping off Ulrich Falke and his fucking camera. And fuck him for apparently packing Queenie out of there as soon as he’d hung up the phone. Arin fired at the can, drenching the stupid surveillance device in energy drink, then took the stairs two at a time, only drawing in breath when he was at the top. There was no one waiting to ambush him there, but still he kept an alert vigilance as he made his way back the way he’d come, up to the roof.

     The eastern sky was brightening, black fading into blue into orange. After kicking the heavy door shut behind him, he turned his back on it, retrieving Queenie’s phone from his pocket and tapping in the six digit code that unlocked the device. It opened on the camera application, and his attention was drawn immediately to the preview of the last picture taken. He clicked it, and there she was, in the same fucking chair he’d been looking at a minute ago – and there it was, the same indomitable fury he’d felt when he’d heard Ulrich’s voice over the phone. When he’d come down to the basement and found it empty. And this wasn’t the fucking Bentons; this was his fucking Lost Boy fucking shit, and Arin thought that if he could go back in time to that day he’d bumped into Rowan in the city, knowing what he knew now, he’d have plugged her right between the fucking eyes.      Un-fucking-productive. He redirected his attention. Ulrich wanted Rowan. His simplest way to her, in his mind, was Arin – so the gas hadn’t been meant to kill him, which meant the agent was coming back. Him, or others of his ilk, subservient, mindless fucking goons sent to collect him and bring him wherever. He needed to find a place to wait. It couldn’t be long until someone showed.

     But it was. Two and a half fucking hours passed before a car finally pulled up to the building, parking in front of the main entrance. Arin was on the roof of a different building, smoking his fourth cigarette and freezing his ass off in the frigid morning air because he’d forced himself to sit still, knowing that if he moved he’d get restless, get angry, and probably do something rash. If it were just about him, he might have. Fuck waiting, fuck being cautious, and fuck the fucking Government… but Queenie’s life was at stake, and Ulrich, damn him, had been right – he wouldn’t gamble with it.      Like his own, the car that had arrived was black, had no plates, windows tinted into dark mirrors that reflected the sharp rays of sun that were just breaking the horizon, bathing the tops of the buildings in a pale golden haze, even as most of the streets below remained steeped in blue shadow. Arin squinted down at it as the driver’s side door opened and the scumbag of the hour himself stepped out, casting a perfunctory glance over his surroundings before heading for the door. Slipping out from behind the chimney he’d hidden on the far side of when the agent raised his gaze, Arin returned to the northern edge of the roof and descended the metal stairs that zigzagged up the outside wall, getting into the Mustang and soundlessly starting the engine. His right hand curled around the steering wheel, tightening as the muscles in his jaw did, and he plotted his route over, saw himself pressed against the wall next to the door as Ulrich came out, heard the crack of gun against skull, felt the scrape of knife against skin. Smelled the metallic blood pulsing in warm rivulets from an opened throat. He plotted his route… and remained in his seat, drawing slow, controlled breaths while he waited for the agent to reappear.      He wasn’t in there long. Soon, the door opened again; Arin’s eyes trailed him as he returned to his car, started the engine and drove off. He left it a beat before he pulled away from the curb and followed.

     Battery City was waking up. Curfew was lifted, and people and cars were trickling into the streets, slowly filling them with the noise of everyday life. Arin let three in between him and Ulrich, then another at an intersection as he followed him west, towards Downtown. Traffic flooded in, amassing on the three-lane road, and he cursed as he overtook a sedan and some asshole in a white convertible, weaving back into the stream of vehicles in front of them, Agent Asshole in sight once more. They crossed into Zone One, the heart of Government territory – an area he hadn’t set foot in since he’d been arrested and put on death row, a lifetime ago. He felt his skin crawl the closer they got to the Capitol Building, the hairs at the back of his neck rising as if there were eyes on him, even though he knew he was hidden behind his car’s windows. Then, suddenly, Ulrich’s car switched lanes. Arin’s eyes flashed to the sign he was passing.    “Fuck.” Another curse under his breath, because he knew, he knew, where the agent was going, and it wasn’t anywhere he could fucking follow. He stomped on the gas pedal and veered into the far left lane, just catching in his peripheral vision the other black car disappearing onto one of the exits that led towards the Government buildings as he tore past the flow of traffic on his right, heading for the closest zone crossing.

     He didn’t slow down until he was out, digging his phone out of his pocket and unlocking it, his attention split between the road and the screen as he scrolled through his contact list until he found the number he was looking for and dialed it. It rang, once, twice – you better fucking pick up, you fraternizing fucking bastard – thrice.      “Hello?”    “I’m sending you an address. Meet me there. Now.”      “Uh– yeah, okay. I can do that.” Arin hung up and tossed his phone into the passenger seat, fighting the urge to turn around and go back towards Capitol Square as he searched his surroundings for somewhere anonymous to stop.

     Somewhere anonymous was a closed convenience shop sitting behind an empty lot, boarded up and dusty. It was small, but big enough that it hid his car when he parked behind it. The door in front was chained shut, but upon closer inspection he found that there was nothing holding the chain in place – it was just looped around the door handle and the farthest right of the bars on the window next to it a bunch of times, the ends hanging loose. He sent off a text containing his location, then pulled the chain free and dropped it on the cracked asphalt before heading inside and closing the door behind him. He lit a cigarette, hauling himself up to sit on the counter to keep himself from pacing. Writing Julian a text message to keep himself from complete inactivity. Falke has Q. Check cameras 3-4 am find out where they went. He attached the address of the building with the basement and sent it.      It wasn’t long before he heard movement outside – a car parking in the back, then footsteps around the front – and even though he was expecting company, he soundlessly slid his pistol from its holster and aimed it at the entrance as whoever it was came closer. The door opened, and the man coming in was silhouetted in the doorway for a moment by the morning sun behind him, obscuring his features. Arin recognized him all the same, lowering his weapon and putting it away as Agent Matthew Hagen pushed the door shut and approached, concern etched across his sharp features.      “What’s going on?” He asked, green eyes searching Arin’s face.    “Tell me everything you know about Ulrich fucking Falke.”      “If you want relevant information, Arin, I’m gonna need a little more to go off of.” Matt’s brow was furrowed, still, and he tilted his chin up half an inch, his gaze glued to Arin’s as he waited for an answer.    “He has Q. He’s trying to use her to fucking blackmail me into giving up somebody else he fucking wants.” Arin leaned the heels of his palms against the edge of the counter, tattooed fingers curling around the edge.      “Agent Greane…” Matt muttered thoughtfully – more to himself, it seemed – then held up a hand in apology when he saw the flash of anger in Arin’s eyes. “I take it she isn’t really on placement at Red Rock.”      There was a moment of silence in which Arin waited for the dark-haired agent to fucking get on with it, but he was apparently waiting for a response as well; confirmation, or some equally unimportant bullshit.    “You think?” He snapped finally, irate and impatient.      “Well.” Matt grew pensive again. “Agent Falke is not a… patriot, by most people’s standards. Certainly not by the Government’s; but he’s efficient. Extremely dangerous. Not an ounce of morals in him, and from what I know, he has no scruples about what he does for his job. The thing about him that sets him apart from the zealots in his division is that he doesn’t truly serve Avalon.” He watched Arin somberly. “He serves himself.” Arin watched him back, waiting for him to continue – and he did, finishing with a firm set to his lips. “He’s an egotistical megalomaniac on a power trip. Unpredictable.”      That final word. Unpredictable. It was the last fucking thing he needed.    “You know where he lives?”      “Penthouse apartment somewhere in Zone One,” Matt shook his head. Shit. Arin went quiet, thinking for a moment before he spoke up again.    “All you fucks have chips, right?”      “That’s… correct,” Matt responded with a slow nod, probably a little miffed that he’d been included in you fucks, but realizing that now was not the time to bitch about it.    “Can you see where he’s been?”      “No.”      Arin sighed. “Can you fucking find out?”      “No,” Matt repeated. “Only directors have that level of clearance.”    “So?”      “Arin, I can’t. I’m sorry.” He looked it, but being sorry did fuck all for bringing Queenie back.    “Then find out if she’s in fucking lockup.”      “I will. And if there’s anything else of use I can access, you’ll know about it.”    “And Falke – he’s corrupt?”      “To the core. He’s out for his own gain; not whatever the Government thinks is best for the territory.”      Arin hopped off the counter and headed for the exit. If corruption was involved, he knew somebody who’d pay just about any price to lay his hands on her.      “Where are you going?” Matt turned around, calling after him.    “The woods.” The door smacked shut in his wake, drowning out the agent’s reply – if there was any.

* * *

     No more than a few weeks had passed since the last time he’d been there (with her), and yet the landscape was drastically altered, almost unrecognizable. The trees had shed their crowns, leaves that had been yellow, orange, red, now a rotting brown carpet on the forest floor, so deep in places that it reached his ankles, rustling around his strides and crunching under under his boots as he waded through. He didn’t care if anyone heard him, if anyone found him – it’d be a quicker way to the answers he needed if they did, and at least he’d get to fucking shoot somebody.

     In twenty-five minutes, he’d arrived at the first location – a building that was marked RESEARCH STATION on the satellite image. It was fenced in, and he could see cameras mounted along the walls, moving slowly from side to side. Going in would be a fucking hassle, and he didn’t have the time, and the trees weren’t close enough – not to the fence, and definitely not to the building itself. But he had to be sure. So instead of wasting his energy trying to see inside, he’d draw whoever was there out. Or… find out if there was anyone there at all. Arin plucked one of the flash grenades from his pocket, pulled the pin, and threw it over the fence, watching it hurtle towards the building in a graceful arc before he ducked behind an old tree, his back pressed against the trunk.      There was the sharp, flatly echoing crack of the grenade going off, and he held the SMG ready, unmoving as a statue, listening. A slow minute ticked by, the lukewarm Avalon fall breeze filling the silence with the quiet patter of the dead leaves it sent skittering along the ground, and with the toneless whisper of the bare branches it soughed through, stirring them towards the colorless sky. Two minutes. The beginnings of a headache throbbed faintly against his temples. Three minutes. A twig snapped somewhere ahead of him. Four minutes. Five minutes. No one came. Arin marked the building in red and moved on. Six to go.

     The sun was at its zenith when Arin’s phone rang. He was sat on a gnarled root, smoking a cigarette and scrolling over the map on his phone, plotting a route to the next building. The display read MH.    “Yeah?”      “She’s not in Government custody. Officially or unofficially.”    “Kingston there?” He forced himself to use the name, assuming Matt wouldn’t know who he was referring to if he asked after an ass-licking shitbag.      “At work?” The agent paused. “Yeah.”    “And the old cunt?” Arin felt his phone buzz.      “I don’t know. You think they have her?”    “Anything else?” His phone buzzed again. And once more.      “Nothing yet. I’ll be in touch.” Arin hung up, looking at his screen, and the three texts he’d received during the call.

     [ Julian Colden / 12:09 PM ] No cameras      [ Julian Colden / 12:10 PM ] I got this tho

     The third text contained a link that led him to a video: a shot of a cage, bathed in light and placed on a stage that was surrounded by a crowd. It didn’t even take him a second to recognize Queenie – and he already knew who the man hidden behind a mask in front of her was, tension creeping through him as he watched them fight. His pulse had picked up, its pace almost doubled, hatred roaring to life in his chest when Ulrich raised a cuffed Q to her feet and ripped his mask off with a smug grin. Battery City… Arin turned the volume up, fanning the blaze of his bloodthirsty contempt. Nobody has to die here tonight. He was too angry to fully register the remainder of the agent’s speech, and then, suddenly, he was leading her away and the video ended. After crushing his cigarette out on the root next to him, Arin wrote Julian a response: Find Noriko. He stood up and put his phone away.

     Four to go.

* * * 

     Sunset came and went unacknowledged. He walked and walked, crossed a building off his list, then walked further still and crossed off another. Matt called to let him know that there was nothing out of the ordinary going on among the ranks of the Government, that there was no mention of Q, that Ulrich Falke had gone home after work and nowhere else, and that he was keeping an eye on the building. There’d been no word from Julian yet.

     Arin was approaching the final building – the only remaining one with a blue tag on the map, marked with three question marks – when he noticed with a start that it was dark. The whole day gone and he’d found fuck all. There was light coming from the windows of the last place. From the windows, from outside lamps evenly spaced on the walls, and… it was a fucking house. He squinted in disbelief and exasperation at the bits of living room he could see from his spot in the murk between the trees, turning away and leaving when he spotted a figure moving around inside. There was nowhere else to go; there were too many buildings tagged in yellow for him to start going through them without planning, and the dark blue sky was turning black, taking visibility down to practically nothing.      Halfway back to his car, he got a text.

     [ Julian Colden / 8:38 PM ] Got her. Gonna find out if anyone saw them leaving

     There was a map pin attached. He quickened his pace, ignoring the tired protest of his muscles as he demanded more from them than he already had. He hadn’t eaten for over twenty-four hours, and his stomach was complaining, too, sending hollow stabs of pain through his abdomen.      In the Mustang, he emptied a bottle of water he found in the center console, then ate the candy bar that had been lying in there beside it, trying not to think about the fact that it was Queenie who’d left it there. He missed her, and that feeling was worse than all the current mundane afflictions of his body combined and fucking tripled. He was getting her back. There was no other way he’d allow this to end.

* * *

     Julian’s pin was at another one of Noriko’s establishments – a small gambling den nestled in the first floor of an apartment building, past a hidden door in the stairwell. Arin saw a security guard through the windows near the entrance, hanging around and pretending not to be a security guard. He didn’t want to risk them warning her about his arrival, but he also didn’t think there was another way in. What he did have, though, were more flash bangs. Might as fucking well. He yanked the pin out of one and pitched it down the street as hard as he could, then slipped around the corner nearest to the entrance, out of sight.      Come on, you dumb fuck, impatience set his nerves alight in the wake of the harmless explosion. Come on, come on, come–      The door opened. He waited ten seconds, hearing the guard’s footfalls moving away from him before he peeked out, seeing the other man’s back as he went to investigate the commotion. He left his cover and entered the fluorescent-lit stairwell; the secret door opened with a pull on the fire alarm next to it, and he was inside, keeping his head down and sticking close to the wall as he headed for the back, and the office he knew she’d be sitting in, never one for mingling with her guests. There was more security inside, but he managed to evade their attention, passing behind them when they had their backs turned, or pausing on the other side of groups of drunk people when they looked his way.      When he reached the office, Arin slid the sub from its holster at his rib and switched off the safety, raising it as he went in. It found its target almost immediately, and finally, finally, something was going the way it was supposed to, and he had somewhere tangible to direct his fury.

     “Arin!” Noriko’s voice was tinged with poorly disguised astonishment, and a little more adeptly disguised fear. Clearly, him showing up without warning hadn’t been part of her plan. He reached behind him with his free hand and felt around until he found the lock, turning it. Her hand inched towards one of the drawers on her desk. Adjusting his aim, he squeezed the trigger, and the SMG fired a rapid burst of three, splinters flying from the surface of the desk right above whatever she’d been reaching for. Noriko snatched her hand back, pressing it against her torso.    “Back up.” Arin advanced, returning his aim to the center of her chest. “Don’t get outta the fucking chair.” She obeyed, giving herself a small push so she rolled away from the desk, still facing him. Arin grabbed a different chair and dragged it over to the door, glancing away from her for a moment as he propped it underneath the handle.      “I can explain–”    “Shut up. You let him in. How much did he fucking pay you?”      “He didn’t. He didn’t!” She raised both hands when he took a sudden step closer. “I didn’t know who he was.”    “Uh-huh. And you let any piece of shit just fucking walk in off the street, right? Wearing a fucking mask?”      “No.” Noriko closed her eyes for a moment, dark blue eyeshadow glittering on her lids. “A contact of mine vouched for him. He hasn’t let me down before. I thought the mask was… fun.”      Arin fought the urge to spit. “And where’s your fucking contact?”      “I can’t get ahold of him.” The reluctance in her tone told him she knew what that meant as well as he did.    “I fucking wonder why.” There were shouts outside, seconds before someone started pounding at the door. Arin ignored them. “It doesn’t matter,” he went on, “you let him walk outta there with her.”      “He was threatening to bomb the entire club!” The fear returned to Noriko’s voice.    “I don’t give a shit!”      “Arin, be reasonabl–”    “Shut up. You could’ve had him turned into a lead fucking weight, and instead you were pissing yourself in your fucking office and letting Q take the hit for your fucking stupidity.”      “Listen,” she started bargaining, her eyes boring into his, “I know people. If she’s still alive, I can help you find her.”    “It’s too late for that.”      “No–”      Arin squeezed the trigger again. Noriko slumped in her chair, eyes and mouth wide open, three holes in her chest and a red stain spreading rapidly as it soaked the fabric of her sheer, white blouse.      He’d been wrong about there not being another way in – there was another door on the right side of her office. Pushing through it, he emerged into what looked like a janitor’s closet, continuing without slowing down towards the exit on the opposite wall. It spat him back out into the stairwell, just as the hidden door by the stairs opened. Without checking to see who was there, he raised the sub and held down the trigger, peppering the wall and the door and maybe whoever the fuck was coming after him with bullets as he made his way towards the street. The secret entrance closed, and Arin, his boots hitting blacktop, broke off at a sprint and didn’t stop until he was at his car, getting in and tearing away from the area without looking back.

* * *

     A shower. A change of clothes. He didn’t want to be home, because without her it was just some soulless fucking apartment, but he had to plan what was next; figure out which of the yellow buildings were the most likely to be the Benton facility. He didn’t transfer his weapons from his old clothes, leaving them for now, going into the bedroom to sit on the mattress with his phone without allowing himself to acknowledge that he’d chosen it because it was where her presence was the strongest.

     Exhaustion bled into his bones, there in the dark, his focus drifting as he stared at the satellite picture of the woods, casting cursory looks over the tagged buildings and changing the ones he deemed at first glance to be his options from yellow to blue. He’d go through them more thoroughly once he had a better overview – weed out the less likely ones.

     He tried not to picture her, somewhere, in a white cell like his own, bolted to that fucking metal chair while Gerard smiled magnanimously at her and prattled on about some self-important bullshit. He tried not to picture her shot up with adrenaline and hallucinogens, forced to watch the same type of shit they’d played on a loop for him. He tried not to picture her chained up on the floor of a concrete box of a room in some fucking Government black site somewhere, awaiting her fate. He concentrated his attention on the map, checking building after building after building…

     In the darkness, a voice screamed. His wrists and ankles were encircled in steel, and he couldn’t move, and there was blood in his mouth. Everything around him was pitch black; he couldn’t see an inch in front of his face, until suddenly she was there, his mirror image, in front of him. Slumped in her seat, purple waves tumbling down over her bruised and cut up face. Queenie! His voice didn’t carry. Arin didn’t know if he’d spoken at all, or if she just couldn’t hear him, but she was alive, she had to be – if he could only reach her. Wake up.

     Wake up. This time it was a command, and it wasn’t his voice. A man tilted her chin up with the end of a baton – Gerard, Kingston, Ulrich, a faceless, swarming mass of Government Agent that wasn’t permitted to touch her. But they did. Queenie took every strike without a sound, cold resentment in her pale blue eyes when she raised them to her assailant, and she didn’t see him, but how was that possible when he was right in front of her? Look at me. Arin fought his restraints, but his body felt heavy and weak, and it was no use. Queenie. I’m right fucking here, look at me. She didn’t. Her stare was locked on the figure looming over her, like she recognized him, even when all Arin saw was the indistinct and unfamiliar back of a head.

     The shadows around them vanished in a blink, the walls coming alive, and he heard bombs going off, saw rubble and bodies stretching out in every direction, a crater filled with broken concrete and with most of his gang. He heard Rowan scream and cry, a piercing soundtrack to Queenie’s defiant muteness as the hostile shape circling her chair brought the baton down again and again, and he was helpless to stop any of it, unable to move, unable to speak, unable to–

     Arin shot up in bed with a gasp, his heart slamming against the inside of his ribcage as he tried to catch his breath – to get his bearings. He was alone. He’d fallen asleep. He raised his hands to his face, pressing his fingers against his eyelids, coercing his brain to pull itself out of the nightmare and focus.

   “Fuck’s sake.” His voice was muffled against his palms, and even then it seemed too loud for the room, the words sucked into the vacuum of Queenie’s absence to be swallowed whole by the ravenous silence that filled every place she wasn’t in. He lowered his hands, letting them skim across the twisted sheets until he found his phone, picking it up to check the time. Five a.m. He’d been asleep for almost three hours. Slipping the device into his pocket, he got up, pacing into the bathroom to retrieve his weapons that he’d left on the floor there in a heap. When he was finished, he took it out again, really looking at it now that his head was clearer.

     Matt hadn’t called, which meant he still had jack shit as far as any leads went, and Julian had texted him to let him know that Noriko’s crew was looking for him. Arin texted back to get rid of them, and Julian returned with a single word. Anything? His jaw clenched as he typed out his reply, and he dropped the phone back into his pocket as soon as he had sent it. Because he didn’t fucking have anything.

     Not yet.

[dragonnan]

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The work I thought it would be fun to share is an in-progress unpublished work that will likely take a while to put together.  I was incredibly inspired by the brilliant writing of both @hanuko and silentsaebyeok who both have stories about Wilson Fisk.  Here is my take on that character in an Avengers fic!

Untitled Fic

Setting: near the end of Homecoming and just prior to Tony reconciling with Pepper

AU of Daredevil season 2-3 (Karen didn't murder Wesley as Fisk's mother didn't remember her visit.  She only remembered Ben)

Late afternoon sunlight had turned every pane of glass into a pool of gold.  The patio doors of the tall office building had been left open – allowing the haze of late day warmth to coil upwards; carried on drafts of air heated from the concrete below.  Rubber soles squeaked softly against marble that knew mainly Italian leather and the rare alligator hide.  Two-hundred dollar sneakers were incongruous to the wealth of the man sporting them, but then, Tony Stark had never been a fan of the expected.    

“So what wrong side of the bed did I wake up on this morning to earn this clandestine meeting before my Kai Jiew has had time to settle?”  One hip resting on the edge of the railing, Tony managed to shudder back a yawn before it became embarrassing.  Behind him, the familiar snap of a briefcase lock barely drew a glance as “Dilbert” pushed up his glasses and withdrew a thick file from the depths.

Further in the shadows, the larger man, silent, stood with his head at an oddly subdued angle.  Often reticent in the blessedly few interactions Tony had ever had with the man, it was little surprise that it was his assistant who spoke.

“Apologies, Mr. Stark.  I assure you this won't take long.”

The unstated request, of course, was that Tony sit at the table positioned within the large room.  Tony raised an eyebrow.  “You didn't say please.”

A smooth, tight lipped smile, followed his quip.  Meanwhile, the still silent other member of their trifecta finally stepped forward – grasping one of the stuffed leather office chairs and rolling it back before seating himself.  Wilson Fisk wove his hands together above propped elbows.  “I appreciate your willingness to meet me so early, Anthony.  I felt it best to speak with you privately given the... delicacy... of the issue at hand.”  He gestured towards the single remaining chair.

Well that wasn't at all circumspect.

Returning the tight lipped smile in kind, Tony grabbed the chair facing the head of the table and sat; leaning back and settling his arms on the padded rests.  “You know, usually I let Pepper handle SI business.  Not sure if you got the memo but I'm not actually CEO any longer.  How was prison, by the way?  I heard the kitchen got a new chef.”

Ignoring the comment, Fisk tapped his thumbs together and kept a close study of the polished inlay before him. ��“That is something we share in common,” he looked up, then, finally, “I, too, find that most business affairs tend to be... tedious.”  Fisk grinned, a flash of small, even, teeth, before he nodded towards his assistant... Wilbur?  Weston?  “Mr. Wesley, if you would please?”  He turned back to Tony – also leaning back and resting his thick hands over his thicker waist.  “I can assure you, however, that what we're here to discuss is a matter that falls somewhat outside the purview of Stark Industries.”

While his employer spoke, Wesley neatly stacked the pages of the file before sliding the bundle across the polished tabletop to Tony.  Eager to just get everything done with, Tony pressed his hand flat on the cover to slide it close, flipped it back... and froze.

Across from him, Fisk continued speaking.  “I have found that I have an over-abundance of pressure on me as I attempt to rebuild was was lost during my incarceration. Aside from the judgement of the good people of this city I also have faced an ongoing assault from a number of vigilantes.  This city, for all of its potential, has the unfortunate side effect of breeding these... vermin... faster than the rats that inhabit the sewers.  As it is they are beneath the notice of those who claim to protect the people of this city.”  His hands stilled – lying one on top of the other as Tony silently turned to the next page.  “Too busy protecting the rest of the world, perhaps.”

Tony made himself turn to the next page; his eyes blinking rapidly.

“Of course it isn't in my nature to harm innocents.  I find it distasteful to involve women and children in such matters.  And, yet, I find that it is, in fact, a child at the center of my current dilemma.  Of greater irony is that this child has both power and connections that would, under normal circumstances, place him outside the reach of those who would wish him harm.”

The forth page was a photo – clipped from a newspaper and a duplicate to the framed image that sat on the worktable in Tony's lab.  In the grainy image he stood, one arm slung around a young man's shoulders, as the kid received his certification for completing the “Stark Internship”.  Tony licked his tongue across his teeth before closing the file once more.

Fisk let out a soft hum.  “As it is, prison has a way of creating strange bedfellows.  I met someone – a man you may know.  Adrian Toomes.  After some persuasion he had something very interesting to share with me.  Something that, I can only imagine, you would wish to keep out of the hands of certain individuals.”

Tony wanted to clench his hands – his fingertips twitching before he pushed them flat against the wood beneath them.  “Just to clarify you're threatening my intern?”

Fisk leaned forward; hands folding tight before him on the table.  “I was hoping we wouldn't have to play any games but given your refusal to read the rest of the documents Mr. Wesley provided, I will summarize them for you.” Here he stood; walking to the open doors facing the patio.  “I know who Peter Parker really is.  I know about his aunt.  I know the names of his friends, where he goes to school, and where he buys his favorite sandwich every afternoon.”  He rested his hands behind his back; squinting in the sunlight.  “If he continues to disrupt my affairs in Hell's Kitchen, the consequences could be... unpleasant.” He glanced back at Tony; his face serene.  “You realize I'm asking for very little.  Keep your new pet leashed and allow me to conduct my business in peace.  The child will never have to know my name. Other than what he may learn from news reports; of course.” Tugging his cuffs, Fisk turned to more fully face into the room.  “I never wanted to involve you.  This is the sort of attention I have spent a fortune to avoid.  As it is I find myself in a position where reticence could cost me even more.”  

Pushing to his feet, Tony could no longer stop his hands from fisting at his sides – though he managed to control the tremor as he joined Fisk.  Side by side, the other man practically loomed over him.  

“So you aren't just threatening a kid – you're threatening everyone he cares about.  Little bit budget TV villain but you do you I guess.”  Pulling off his tinted glasses, he stared up at the other man.  “The thing is this little weekly drama you're playing?” he waggled his fingers back and forth, “way above your pay grade.  Maybe stick to collecting on gambling debts and playing whack-a-mole with the other lowlifes in your contacts list.”

The smallest of smiles twitched at the corner of Fisk's lips.  “I know you're someone who prefers visual aids,” his voice became guttural – losing the soft quality, “perhaps a demonstration would help to convince you.”  

A glance to the side, the barest nod to Wesley, and the other man typed into his phone.

There was a moment – silence this far above the city.

And then an apartment complex, three blocks away, exploded into flame.

Horrified, Tony gave Fisk a single look, seeing the purpose in that cold gaze, before twisting the dial on his watch and backing up just enough to turn and take a running leap.  One foot caught on the railing and with a surge of his muscles, he launched himself out into open space.

Terrifying free fall – the ground racing towards him at breakneck speed.

And then smooth metal wrapped his body and he shot towards the blaze.  

:Cutting things a little bit tight, aren't we, Boss?:          

      “No time to chat, Fri.  Emergency response status?”  He twisted his body into an angle as the building grew large in his visor – too few residents stumbling free out onto the pavement.

:Fire and Rescue are three minutes away:

“Shit.”  Aiming for a top floor window that had been blasted out with the explosion, Tony shot through the opening and made a quick scan of the room.  He winced at the sudden burst of heat that briefly enveloped his suit.  “Anyone on this level?”

He almost swore he could hear his AI sighing.  :Apologies, Boss.  I am unable to differentiate life signs from the ambient temperature.  Also the heat is steadily rising and will soon be at levels exceeding this suit's tolerances.:

Ignoring the warning, Tony finished his check of the room and moved on to the next apartment.  “Yeah, let's put a pin in that.  Adjust audio input and scan for human voices.”

In the second apartment he found a single person – deceased.  Same for the next two.  In the forth apartment there were two dead but he also found a child – burned and terrified but alive – buried beneath the blankets in her parent's closet.  Tony kept her wrapped to protect against the flames and rushed her to the sidewalk and into the arms of one of the firemen who had just arrived on scene.  

“Explosion – multiple charges – there's still people...”  He coughed at the black smoke boiling from the ruined building and dropped his visor back into place before returning inside.

Even with the protection of his suit the heat was breathtaking.  There were no more survivors on the top floor so Tony proceeded to the next level down.

:I'm detecting instability in the surrounding structure.:

“We got three apartments left on this floor.  Stop listening to the walls and keep listening for voices!”

The next sign of life he found, however wasn't a human but a howling dog still locked in its kennel.  Tucking the kennel under one arm, Tony finished his search of that floor – finding three additional people and four more pets.  With everyone holding their respective creatures he didn't risk another flight but, instead, soaked several blankets in a shower and guided them to a stairwell FRIDAY had located that was still relatively flame free. Then, turning back to his task he set out to locate more survivors.

Another five minutes in – fire and rescue now dousing the building as fireman began going door to door on the bottom two floors, Tony took the last one remaining.

It was then that disaster struck.

He'd just entered the first apartment – already racing towards the elderly man collapsed on the floor when there was a sudden burst of flames across the ceiling above – overlaid by a warning from FRIDAY.  

:Boss, there is a weakening of the...:

“Shit!”  His heartbeat was a drum in his ears as hooked a thick blanket from the ratty chair in the living room – slow motion tornados of smoke lifting up from the surrounding dry surfaces.  Propulsion would actually take longer – factoring in the time to slow his speed before reaching the man.  It was a fast paced eternity bolting across the ancient carpet.  The blanket billowed out ahead of him and cloaked the man just moments before he wrapped arms around him – knowing that even inside the blanket he was burning the old man with the super heated surface of his suit.  

He managed two steps to the window.

And then the world shattered in a concussive blast.

[calucadu]

Drumroll, please!

Drumroll, please!, a Boku no Hero Academia/My Hero Academia One Shot.

I’m so happy I can finally share my story for the Force of Nature Zine! My awesome partner was Qwan-Hei! Please check out her Instagram and Twitter! She did an amazing job! Her piece is so good, I keep staring at it. 💜

Summary: His eyes widen as they roam the shiny red drum kit. Even the copper cymbals seem to gleam when he looks at them. He clambers over the stool and looks at his mother, who gives him an encouraging smile. When he glances at his father, the man nods his head and Katsuki gulps, taking a large breath before trying his new present out. He gives the cymbals a tentative hit, only moving his wrist subtly. The sound it makes immediately takes his breath away. He lets the drumstick fall against the snare drum, and he’s immediately hooked. He feels like fire is running down his arms and exploding out of his hands. He has no idea what he’s doing but he screams, closing his eyes and letting the sensation fill him with joy.

Characters: Bakugou Katsuki, Uraraka Ochako, Bakugou Mitsuki, Bakugou Masaru, Midoriya Izuku, Yagi Toshinori/All Might, Sir Nighteye, Best Jeanist, Eraserhead, Jirou Kyouka, Yaoyorozu Momo, Kaminari Denki, Tokoyami Fumikage.

Rating: Teen and up

Read on AO3

Or read below the cut

On the morning of his 7th birthday, Katsuki wakes to a present-less room. He immediately goes downstairs and finds his father reading the newspaper, calmly sipping on his tea. On their dining table is a small, neatly wrapped gift. Suppressing a scream, the child runs over to it and nearly throws himself against the wooden surface to grab it. He hears his dad clear his throat. “You can’t open that yet, Katsuki.” He says calmly, folding his newspaper and setting it aside.

“Why not!?”

“Your main present is in another room.” A smile slowly works its way to his face as he gets up. Before the boy can ask any more questions, his dad gestures at him to follow him. He takes the child into the study and pauses in front of the closed door. “You do the honours.”

Katsuki’s quick to do as he’s told. He finds his mother standing next to a huge bulk covered with a white blanket, smiling as she gestures towards it. His father gently pushes him forwards, so the child slowly walks towards it, eyeing her suspiciously. He finally gets to the mysterious thing and gives the fabric a tentative tug, making the material fall to his feet.

His eyes widen as they roam the shiny red drum kit. Even the copper cymbals seem to gleam when he looks at them.

Finally remembering that his left hand still has a tight grip on the present he found on the table, he looks down at it and sees that he’d torn the wrapping paper accidentally. It’s not a big enough tear that he can tell what’s inside, but he pokes a finger through it to open it, revealing a pair of wooden drumsticks.

He clambers over the stool and looks at his mother, who gives him an encouraging smile. When he glances at his father, the man nods his head and Katsuki gulps, taking a large breath before trying his new present out.

He gives the cymbals a tentative hit, only moving his wrist subtly. The sound it makes immediately takes his breath away. He lets the drumstick fall against the snare drum, and he’s immediately hooked.

He feels like fire is running down his arms and exploding out of his hands. He has no idea what he’s doing but he screams, closing his eyes and letting the sensation fill him with joy.

Katsuki’s too focused on his new toy that he almost doesn’t hear his mother say: “We made the right choice,” while hugging her husband.

The next thing Katsuki learns is that they had signed him up for drumming lessons at a nearby music school.

For a while, Katsuki is extremely happy. Not only does drumming fulfil him, but his new teacher tells him he’s a natural and constantly praises him. He’s a quick learner, and he’s eager to advance.

The private lessons and the time he spends drumming at home make him have something to look forward to every day.

He feels fire in his palms that explodes whenever he’s playing the drums, and it makes him feel exhilarated; makes him feel alive.

In class, he’s just bored out of his mind. He tries to keep himself entertained by mentally practising playing, but it’s not the same as having the real thing.

He finds it hard to connect to the other kids his age. He doesn’t have the patience for them, and honestly, as the years go by, he feels more and more like they’re not worth it. They don’t like him because he has a bad temper and a sharp tongue. It doesn’t bother him, though. He doesn’t need them anyway. He’s not lonely. Katsuki doesn’t feel alone because he’s got drumming.

He’s scrolling through his phone while sitting in the back of his parents’ car on the way home from school. His mum turns the radio on and Katsuki’s jaw almost drops when he hears the first few notes of a song play.

The intensity of it makes the hairs on the back of his neck stand up and he immediately looks up from his phone and pays more attention to the music. It sounds like nothing he’s ever heard before but it’s also kind of familiar.

He recognises his mother’s favourite station and his eyebrow twitches.

“What band is this?” He demands, not noticing he’s scowling as he impatiently awaits her answer.

His mother chuckles gently, turning the volume up slightly. “That’s ‘The Symbol of Peace’, kid. It used to be my favourite band back in the day. Glad to see you’ve got good taste after all.”

Katsuki’s too enthralled by the song to even answer her back. The drummer’s rhythm and tempo are amazing. The way all the instruments sound together makes goosebumps form all over his arms.

He’s never listened to anything that sounds this perfect.

He becomes obsessed with them after that experience. His mother gives him some of her old posters, but he also buys some of All Might (the lead singer and guitarist) and puts them all in his bedroom, and a few in the study where he practises drumming. That way he can look at them when he feels low on spirits. It helps him focus and find that passion, rekindle that fire when he’s uninspired.

It also has a new and different effect on him that he hadn’t anticipated.

He starts wanting to be like them. On a poster. On someone’s walls.

He wants to be in a band.

He suddenly realises he wants to become a rock star. One that won’t be forgotten in time, like All Might.

Katsuki wants to be the greatest drummer to have ever existed. It’s going to be a lot of hard work – he’s well aware of it – but he’s never wanted anything more.

He starts his last year of middle school with a new attitude, but unfortunately, there’s a pebble in his way.

A loser called Midoriya Izuku is in his class. He ignores his existence until one day he hears him play the guitar. Katsuki’s jaw drops. He has a way of making the instrument sound extremely beautiful.

Katsuki starts seeing the green-haired boy as an obstacle to surpass to become number one. He starts calling him Deku to make fun of him and to remind him that he’s below him.

In fact, if he thinks about it, he remembers seeing him excitedly running around the music school as kids.

Although Katsuki won’t admit it, the other boy unintentionally motivates him to practise harder. He starts ditching his homework because being the best is more important.

Katsuki’s always done well at school without much effort. Things are different now, though. Since he’s been so focused on drumming, his report card isn’t as good as it always is.

He’s almost hesitant to show it to his mother, who swipes it out of his hand. She gives the paper a quick glance before lowering it and looking him square in the eyes.

“Katsuki, what is this?” She asks, her voice neutral, but her lips are pressed into a thin line that shows how displeased she is with his results.

“What’s what?” He retorts in between clenched teeth.

“These marks! They aren’t good!”

“They’re not bad!” He replies, his tone rising.

“Katsuki,” she pauses to breathe in, inhaling air through her flared nostrils. “Don’t you want to go to a good high school? A good university? Do you not care about your education?”

He sets his jaw and decides not to answer her.

“Are you listening to me, Katsuki?” She raises her voice and places the report card on the table next to her before crossing her arms over her chest. “I’m being serious here. Your future isn’t something you can gamble with.”

He stops himself from lashing out at her by slamming his hands against the table instead. The slap makes his skin tingle, and the sound echoes around the room like an explosion. Like when he plays the drums.

She gives him a once-over before shaking her head in disappointment. “I’m cancelling your drumming lessons. You need to put more time and effort into studying.”

“WHAT!?”

“You heard me, Katsuki.” She replies dryly.

“You can’t DO THAT!” He’s shaking with fury and he can feel the resentment and irritation flowing through him.

“Of course I can, you brat. I’m your mother. Don’t forget that. I decide over your future because I know what’s best!”

He stares at her, his nostrils flaring in anger. Without saying a word, he stomps off and shuts himself in his room to scream his lungs out.

Katsuki doesn’t understand why she nags him so much. Weren’t they the ones to buy him the drum kit? He didn’t even ask for one and they gave it to him. And now that he’s playing it and actually learning and practising, they’re telling him he has to stop?

What do they care how well he does at school anyway? He’s going to be a rock star!

He stuffs his pillow into his mouth to drown his voice, but tears of frustration fall down his face.

They don’t understand anything.

Everything is a hundred times more frustrating and unbearable now that he doesn’t have his drumming lessons to look forward to.

He still plays at home, but it’s not the same. He feels stuck, like he isn’t advancing.

He almost feels like his future as a drummer is about to shatter.

Deku starts pestering him about the drumming lessons. He constantly asks why he hasn’t seen him around the music school. It feels like the little shit is rubbing salt into the wound, taunting him with the fact that he can still learn and advance, all while he’s being left behind.

Katsuki’s determined not to let anything stop him from becoming a star, so he practises every day in the study, keeping his goal in mind so he can power through everything.

He will become the best drummer in the world!

He begrudgingly accepts that he might as well do something with the time that used to be for his drumming lessons, so he starts working harder on his schoolwork. His marks go up and he enters UA, the high school All Might had attended.

The best thing about this new school is his music teacher, Mr. Toshinori. He’s a charismatic and generous man who looks frail and worn out because he’s terminally ill. He realised Katsuki’s potential and praised him for his knowledge from the very beginning.

The bad thing about UA is that Deku also got in. What’s even worse is that he’s also Mr. Toshinori’s favourite.

Trying to get rid of his pent-up frustrations, Katsuki starts playing the drums at home for hours on end.

His parents, however, don’t agree with how he chooses to spend his time.

One day, his mother screams at him to stop playing the drums and to study instead. She insists he’s too old to be fooling around and that he needs to start thinking of his future. She wants Katsuki to become a lawyer, make money and start a family.

None of those things sound good to him.

He snarls at her that he’s going to become famous and then she’ll regret everything she’s doing to him.

His mother ends up locking him out of the study, prohibiting him from playing.

That’s the first time in his life that Katsuki’s had something he loved completely taken away from him, and it shatters his whole world.

He cries and screams at his parents, telling them how unfair it is that they’ve done this to him because he has nothing else in life.

Since he can’t take his frustrations out on his drums anymore, he feels constantly pent-up. Deku notices and immediately starts bombarding him with questions.

Full of loathing and resentment, he tries to punch the little shit, who flinches away. Just as he’s raising his fist again, a hand encircles his wrist and pulls him back.

Katsuki turns around to lash out at whoever is stopping him, but his anger dwindles when he sees Uraraka Ochako. He hears Deku takes this opportunity to run away like the little coward he is.

She’s a sweet and innocent girl who he was sure hated his guts. She seemed to tremble in fear whenever he was near, and right now is no different: she’s shaking, even though she’s trying to look determined while holding him back.

It makes his arms go limp at his sides and she sighs in relief, also letting him go.

“Are you okay, Bakugou?” She whispers. It’s the first time anyone has asked him that since he lost his drum kit.

He breaks. He doesn’t know why but he tells her everything. She listens intently and that reassures Katsuki that he’s doing the right thing.

“I understand what you’re feeling. That sounds really frustrating and unfair,” she tells him when he’s finished speaking, “but that doesn’t mean you should be violent. You shouldn’t take your frustration out on people. But if you ever need to talk or anything, I’m here. I can listen.”

Katsuki can’t find his words. All he knows is that he’s finally found a friend.

Ochako comes up with the idea of asking their music teacher for advice, and when Katsuki asks him, he offers him the school’s drum kit to play during breaks. Not only does he get to play there whenever he has some free time, but Mr. Toshinori is usually in the classroom with him, watching him practise and giving him advice and corrections. He feels like he’s finally making progress again.

However, one day, Katsuki finds Deku sitting in the chair closest to the piano, watching intently as Mr. Toshinori plays a nice melody, one that sounds vaguely familiar.

“What’s he doing here?” Katsuki snarls, narrowing his eyes.

The teacher stops playing and looks up at him, an ample smile on his face. “I know you haven’t been getting along recently, so I thought you could have a little chat and become friends.”

“Yeah, Kacchan!” Deku nods his head energetically. “I bet we have stuff in common!”

Katsuki can’t answer. He’s stuck at the entrance of the classroom, incapable of even turning away, despite his brain telling him to scram.

“Actually,” the other teen whispers, his gaze lowering to look at the floor. “I saw that picture you posted on Instagram the other day. The one with all the posters. I’m also a huge fan of ‘The Symbol of Peace’!”

Before Katsuki can answer, their teacher asks: “You both listen to ‘The Symbol of Peace’?”

“Yeah! They’re this awesome group that was super famous not that long ago!” Deku starts rambling, telling them facts that of course Katsuki already knows. He’s got that horrible smirk he gets when he’s talking about something he’s passionate about. “They always won against Endeavor in terms of sales, but they were always neck to neck! ‘One for all’ was their debut album and it made them famous world-wide!”

“Shut up!” Katsuki shouts, kicking the door out of frustration.

He doesn’t wait for an answer from either of them and just storms out of the room, his teeth clenched. He hears Deku shouting his name and it makes him want to punch something.

“Wait, Bakugou, my boy!” Mr Toshinori’s voice makes Katsuki turn around and he sees the old man panting slightly as he hurries to follow him. He starts coughing but tries to talk despite his shortness of breath. “I have something I need to talk to you about.”

Begrudgingly, Katsuki follows him into the classroom again, but sits as far away from Deku as he can, swallowing the insults he so desperately wants to hurl at the other teen.

“My passionate students,” he starts, a softness in his voice that almost moves Katsuki, “you are both incredibly talented and bright young men. I’ve tried my best to be a good teacher for every student in this school, but I tried even harder with you two.”

He pauses, almost like it’s difficult for him to continue speaking. “Unfortunately, it’s time for me to retire from teaching.”

Mr. Toshinori, the only person he looks up to and that actually believes in him, is going to leave him forever?

Katsuki wants to shout at him, tell him that he’s weak. Instead, he stomps out of the classroom, wiping his tears away with his sleeve. He hides in the bathroom and glares at his reflection in the mirror.

He thought he was on track again, he thought he’d already overcome every obstacle in his way.

Maybe he’s not supposed to make it big. Maybe that’s not the fate for him.

Roaring in pain, he shoves his hands into his pockets and retrieves his drumsticks, the ones he’s had ever since he was seven years old. They’re a bit battered, but they still fit perfectly into the palms of his hands.

He stares at them with pure hatred, feeling like his whole body is on fire. He knows it’s not their fault; it’s his, for having a dream to begin with, but he needs to stop the horrible pain inside of him.

He grabs both ends of the wooden drumsticks and starts bending them, screaming furiously. He shuts his eyes because he can’t bear to have them open any longer, especially not with all the tears that are blurring his vision.

The distinctive cracking sound they make force them open again but he’s not ready to face the situation: he’s shattered one of the only things he’s ever cherished.

His actions slowly dawn on him and he sinks to his knees. He can’t blame this on anyone. It’s not his parents’ fault, it’s not Deku’s, it’s not Toshinori’s.

He did this to himself.

Fifteen minutes later, he’s calmed down enough that he can text Ochako.

Somehow, he manages to return home, cover himself in blankets and let his emotions drown him.

He doesn’t go to school the next day but Ochako barges into his room that afternoon.

“You’re an idiot!” She screams at him as soon as he pokes his head out of the covers to tell her to go away.

She sighs and walks over to his bed, to sit on the edge of it.

“I’ve got something for you, but you’ve got to promise not to wreck it.” She smiles as she gets something out of her schoolbag. It’s neatly wrapped and it doesn’t feel heavy in his hands when she finally gives it to him.

He opens it and finds a pair of drumsticks. His heart jumps when his eyes fall on All Might’s signature. The autographs of the other members of the band are also there: Sir Nighteye – the keyboardist – Best Jeanist – the bassist – and Eraser Head – the drummer.

“How’d you…” Katsuki raises his head to look at Ochako, dumbstruck.

“Mr. Toshinori searched for me today at school and asked if I could give this to you. He said he’s sorry you left like that yesterday. He didn’t mean to upset you.”

He closes his eyes and clutches the drumsticks against his chest.

“He also told me to tell you not to give up on your passion.”

His heart swells with her words. Maybe it is his fate after all.

“He thinks you can make it big, Kat.”

He tries to keep his teacher’s words present in his mind and heart. They are what help him take the step to leave home and drop out of high school to pursue his dream.

Ochako lets him crash at her place for a few months while he works part-time jobs to save up for his own drum kit.

He buys a cheap, second-hand one. It’s seen better days but it’s still usable, and he can tell it used to be bright orange. The colour is slightly faded but he thinks he prefers it as it is now.

 Katsuki’s break starts just at the exact same time his phone rings. He glances at the name flashing on his screen before picking it up as he goes out of the back exit of the restaurant he works at.

“Whatcha want, Round Cheeks?”

“Hey Kats,” she replies, then says like it’s nothing: “I got you a band.”

Katsuki meets his new bandmates later that week. Their drummer suddenly quit because she got offered a job in another prefecture and Ochako found out thanks to a friend of hers.

The lead singer and bassist is a slim punk girl named Jirou. She’s very passionate about music and is the one that formed the band.

Playing the keyboards is a gorgeous woman named Yaoyorozu. The way she speaks shows that she must be from a wealthy family, but she gets embarrassed when he asks about it.

The blond man called Kaminari is one of the guitarists and Katsuki finds him annoying because he’s childish and likes to tease him a lot. He doesn’t find his jokes funny and barely tolerates him at first but ends up warming up to him eventually.

The other guitarist, a calm and silent man called Tokoyami, he actually likes. He’s the one that composes most of the lyrics of their original songs, although Jirou co-writes some too.

He finds that practising with them is easier than he expected. They’re all really good and he learns how to work with them without any difficulties.

Ochako steps in and starts managing the band. He’s only been with them for a little over a month when she gets them their first gig. It’s in a little bar that has a small stage for bands like them. They’re a bit cramped up there – he notices it when they start setting up – but it still makes Katsuki feel extremely excited.

He doesn’t hesitate before going on stage. He’s not scared. Maybe he should be, but he only feels exhilarated.

Sweat rolls down his forehead, but despite that, he feels elated. Raising his drumsticks, he looks into the spotlights.

His chest is heaving with every breath, and it feels like time is running in slow motion as he looks over the crowd, a ferocious grin on his face.

All his fears, all his emotions and tears, all his hard work, all his frustrations... they’re all worth it to be here, now, on top of a huge stage and loving every single moment of this.

His dream has come true. He remembers how he got the drum kit and his first lessons, how he was eager to learn and improve. He thinks about how inspiring he found ‘The Symbol of Peace’ and how he’s grown over the years. How everything – even the bad moments, like when he lost his drumming privileges or when he broke his drumsticks – have led him to where he is now. How this is so different to that time in that small stage at that gig Ochako got them.

Closing his eyes, he lets the grin fade slightly and turn into a loving smile instead.

This is new, but he feels grateful, and, most of all, happy, satisfied, fulfilled, completed.

With a deep sigh, he lowers his drumsticks and begins playing his drum solo from the last song of the night.

He bites his lip, not hard enough to draw blood but hopefully the little bit of pain stops him from crying. It doesn’t, because tears fall down his cheeks.

He’s not sad, nor relieved. He can’t believe it, but he’s actually crying from happiness, proud of himself.

He did it. He’s finally the king of his own destiny.

[morethanaprincess-a]

Closed, plotted starter for @the-taboo-king​

"Your promptness is appreciated. We'll go to L'Osier, you like French food."

Even for Byakuya Togami, this was a rather curt greeting. Despite being her underclassman, he still spoke to her in same bossy manner he did with everyone else. It made Sonia chuckle, the first smile she wore all day as she finally was free of the demands her phone and laptop required: after an early morning raid on a business that had refused to pay and body count far too difficult for just the capo to cover up, she'd needed to request several favors as the underboss of the Borghese family. And no one refused the daughter of Valentina Borghese, even if she preferred to take her deceased father's surname. Their influence was too vast, infiltrating organized crime in every country in Europe and more recently, Japan, in their vast array of schemes: real estate, construction, gambling, weapons deals, racketeering in nearly anything they could that took advantage of businesses that deserved it, legal sex work...and so forth. Sonia, at eighteen years old and in her final year of high school, was still learning every single bit of dealings her mother orchestrated behind pretty smiles and her collection of bladed weapons. But from high-ranking government officials to the most corrupt of casinos, they all shared the same fear: a beautiful woman with the tattoo of a flower somewhere upon her body there to collect the favor she was owed. It was the largest, most successful business operated by a woman and yet it would never appear in any financial magazine: After all, none of it was legal.

"I'm amused that you're stating this instead of asking my preference," She replied, once her amusement had subsided and her red lips were fixed back into a smug smile. "Considering it's your father, the head of the Togami conglomerate, requesting business with my family, perhaps it might be prudent to at least inquire about it?"

With blue eyes behind large sunglasses, she watched Byakuya sigh with a huff in his immaculately cut suit. They were two of the only students who refused to wear the Hope's Peak uniform, but for good reason. For both of them, business could divert their attention from their studies at any moment and both heirs needed to be properly armored to face it. In her case, her forest green pencil skirt, white blouse, and coordinating green cape blazer would suit anywhere that didn't need black tie or fancier while still somewhat resembling a uniform. Just a luxurious one, with stiletto heels and a leather satchel at her arm, diamonds and emeralds sparkling in her earlobes and around her neck. Even the most talented students at Hope's Peak had people to envy, and more often than not it was one of the privileged three: Byakuya Togami, the Ultimate Heir, Fuyuhiko Kuzuryuu, the Ultimate Yakuza, and the only female member worthy of the title: Sonia Nevermind, the Ultimate Mafia Boss. While she made it a point to get along, with possible opportunities to demand favors, from as many students as possible, she did sincerely get on with the two boys the Borghese family had business with. Other students had to attend school to hone their talents, but the privileged three were set for life: school was for making connections in the midst of shaping their careers into something different than what they were destined to inherit.

"Why bother with the pleasantries. Even if your intelligence and, to a degree, dignity, don't make me outright despise you, the reservations have been made and it's a...secure location, for you." He adjusted his glasses as he spoke, Sonia watching his eyes dart about the alley behind the main course building. Being seen speaking to her about actual business and not typical teenage conversations would only cause him problems. Sonia knew such dark, dour locations upset him. Byakuya would never admit it of course, but she knew there was a part of him that relished in the glory of being seen as a person of authority. With her, every meeting about things that mattered were conducted quietly, secretly, with a woman who couldn't be impressed by his billions of yen. Not when the Borghese family was also terribly affluent, the more their various ventures were added together.

But she had to smile, something small but sincere, at his words. Even if he couldn't be seen in the main dining room discussing business with Sonia Nevermind, the privacy was enacted more for her sake than his. Every so often for the past two years she'd tried to nudge him into admitting, even reluctantly, that they were friends but it was the nature of what she was and the businesses she ran, even when they meant to help those in need, that seemed to keep him from showing her any real affection. Truly, it was better that way: friendships that got too close or worse, romantic entanglements, made everything difficult in the Family. Family, not friends, not lovers, not anything, came first. "Thank you, Byakuya. You're right: I would very much enjoy that, and not just for the reasons for the dinner itself." It was honest at least, she did quite like the food. But knowing him the topic of conversation would start and end with the deals and contracts they needed to sign, a young man far more content with silence as he ate his filet than filling it with conversation about anyone else. Unless it was for business, Byakuya was as uninterested in people as Sonia was interested. And for that reason, it was going to be a miserable evening.

"Then we should stop wasting time," He sighed, looking over his shoulder to the black town car parked at the side of the street. "Come on, my car's waiting-"

But before he'd even turned on his heel, something from above pelted the Ultimate Heir square in the chest before exploding. "What the H-" Byakuya sputtered as pieces of rubber fell away from the lapels of his jacket, yellow paint seeping into the wool and dribbling down onto the pockets, his trousers, and finally his leather shoes. A second object joined the first, one that Sonia now recognized to be a balloon, seemingly filled with nothing but yellow paint. It hit Byakuya in the right thigh, splattering over both his trousers and the side of her skirt. Finally, a third balloon joined the other two in its target, hitting him in the shoulder and splashing onto her white blouse and blazer, bits of paint landing on the frames and lenses of both his glasses and her sunglasses. "You complete and utter IMBECILE!" Byakuya shouted, his gaze following where the balloons had come from before she looked for herself. But it was hard for even the Ultimate Heir to appear threatening when he resembled a bumblebee. "Some of us have worthwhile talents and futures to see to! If you intend on being a waste of perfectly good space at this school, do it somewhere else!"

Looking down at her own attire, Sonia's outfit was equally beyond repair as she picked at the paint that now settled into her blouse. Unlike Byakuya, however, the incident only seemed to add to her amusement for the day. "I'm sorry, Sonia, but we'll have to postpone. We cannot turn up at L'Osier in such a soiled state. If you can find your way home, that would be preferable."

"No, no...I can manage on my own, I'll just need to phone a car," She sighed. Sonia wanted to laugh at just how furious he was just by a ruined suit, but she thought better of it as she glanced up at the rooftop: the thorn in Byakuya's side seemed to be gone.

[choukeimatsu-scenarios]

Hey I love ur stuff!!💕 here’s an idea for a scenario, osomatsu makes a gamble that he can’t pay for at casino!kara’s casino (honestly anything with the casino au would be amazing tho!! 🙏✨)

A/N: Thank you so very much, I’m so happy that you do!! I think you might find this fic a bit different from the other ones I’ve written, but hopefully you’ll enjoy it all the same! ^^ (Also, I included a bit of Animatsu this time around- couldn’t resist!)

(You can also find the fic here on AO3! https://archiveofourown.org/works/23921707)

-Summary-

It was just another day at pachinko-

-or it was meant to be, at the very least.

-----

In which Osomatsu is a miraculous idiot, Karamatsu does his best and Casino!Karamatsu just wants his money.

Neither of them have it easy.

-List of Translated Words-

賭ける (Kakeru): Bet

かける (Kakeru): Call

痛み (Itami): Pain, distress.

Iyami: Well, it's Iyami!

刺さる (Sasaru): Stuck

ハッスル (Hassuru): Hustle

*Words translated on Wordhippo.

------

                                   Gambling Shambling

"You did what?"

"Look, I said I made a bet that I can't pay so I need you to bring as much yen as you can!" Osomatsu cast a despairing glance over his shoulder, gripping on tight to the phone cord in hand. The two men who eyed him from the table where he had been allowed away from to make his call were yet vigilant, their gazes not having once shifted from the red clad NEET.

It was just another day at pachinko-

-or it was meant to be, at the very least.

There was a slight pause on the other end of the phone and Karamatsu responded as though in confusion.

"I'm afraid I cannot be of much help in this regard, Osomatsu. The least I can do is hang up*."

The first born all but fell back. "Wh- wait, don't-!" Too late, the line was cut off and he was left to the mercies of the casino guards and its owner who looked him over.

"Does your brother not have enough either?" The slightly taller, far more intimidating Karamatsu look alike seemingly leered and Osomatsu paled.

"N-No way, he's got tons more than me-! I just need to get the bastard to lend me some, that's all!" The first born searched his pockets before jamming a few yen coins in the telephone box and tightened his grip on the plastic receiver still in hand, punching in the numbers before managing to flash a wink and the money sign with his free one as a show of further reassurance. "Once I explain things properly, he'll come over for sure!"

The Karamatsu look-alike simply smiled, eyes alight with amusement. "I do hope so, your sake." Osomatsu grew faint and had nearly forgotten to reply when the line was picked up on the other end.

"Good afternoon, this is-"

"Ah- Karamatsu! Listen, you've got to help me out here-!"

"Osomatsu? I thought you said you couldn't pay...?"

The first born forced a laugh as the "other" Karamatsu drew nearer, the two guards following suit as they listened in on the call. "A-About that, you must have heard it wrong. I said-"

"I'm sorry, it's quite loud where you are. Call back when you're in a quieter space."

"Can't really do that right now- wait, don't hang up!"

There was a pause on the other end and Osomatsu stood, nearly frozen as he awaited what felt to be the inevitable click of the receiver. None came, and the eldest all but collapsed when the second born's

voice came through again. "... Is everything alright Osomatsu? It isn't like you to be so out of countenance." The first born internally wept with relief and he forced a grin.

"Didn't get that last part, but no. Nothing is alright right now! I'm seriously troubled Karamatsu, and there's nothing I can do over here-!"

The second born gave a contemplative hum before duly responding. "Well, why don't you try to calm down for one? Screaming on in such a manner is quite unbecoming, especially when one is in full view of the public."

Osomatsu blinked before raking a hand through his hair. "Ugh, I don't have time for your painful bullshit right now! I need you to be serious for once-!"

"Eh- I wasn't- I was being serious for once, Osomatsu!" Karamatsu frowned despite knowing he couldn't be seen. "You sounded as though you were in much distress*, so I thought it would be best to settle your nerves first before we can properly talk!"

"I am in distress*!! Karamatsu, you don't get it- I'm going to die if I can't pay off this bet!"

"And I told you before that I can just h-"

"Don't hang up the phone!!"

Osomatsu was on his knees now, gripping onto the carpet with his free hand. "You- okay, fine, be painful, whatever- just- just help me!"

"Ah- I understand now!"

The first born shot upright, eyes bright as he grinned and held tight to the receiver. "You do?!"

Karamatsu nodded before affirming with a smile of his own. "Yes! Wait for a moment Osomatsu, I'll be back soon with Iyami*!"

This time Osomatsu really did fall back, the execution of the Showa move and its quick recovery shocking all those around him. "No, that's not what I said-!"

"Then what did you say?!"

Karamatsu narrowed his eyes, annoyed by the others "antics". "Explain it to me properly Osomatsu, otherwise I can't be of any help!"

"Why are you getting upset?! I'm the one who should! My life is on the line*, Karamatsu, I told you-!"

"Then leave it, Osomatsu*! I don't know what more you want me to say to that!"

"For the love of- that's not what I meant, you idiot!"

The two paused, seething on their ends. Karamatsu recollected himself as he leaned back against the wall of the hallway, repressing a sigh. "... Osomatsu," He started again, voice calm despite his irritation. "I believe I stated this before, but it would be to both of our benefit if you could call from a quieter place."

The first born groaned, shaking his head. "And I told you that I can't- I'm stuck* here Karamatsu, there's nowhere else I can go."

"Just run* if you're in such a hurry then..."

"What part of 'I'm stuck here' do you not understand?!"

There was another pause, and Osomatsu sent out a fervent prayer that the other would at last catch on-

-however his next words proved that it would be far from such a prospect, much to the first born's chagrin and mounting despair.

"W-Wait, Osomatsu, y-you're not...?"

"Yeah," The eldest deadpanned, rubbing his eyelids as he stated for the fourth time. "I'm going to die over here if I don't get help real soon."

"Why didn't you say so in the beginning-?! Where are you, Osomatsu?!"

The near shriek forced a wince from the first born and he grimaced as he drew the phone back from his ear, shaken from his fleetingly apathetic state. "I did say it, from the very start-! Nevermind that, just get over to the new pachinko place that opened up a week ago with as much yen as you can!"

There was a rustling of what appeared to be paper on the other end of the line and Osomatsu repressed a sigh as he awaited the second born's response. The Karamatsu look alike and his guards who the eldest has until now forgotten were standing nearby at last made to address him again, the "other" Karamatsu unable to hide his amusement from such an animated exchange.

"I suppose he must be coming after all?"

Osomatsu gave a start before he turned to the other, plastering on a brilliant smile. "You bet he is! After hearing all of this, there's no way he won't." As if in confirmation, the second born's voice came through again and the eldest beamed in relief.

"Forgive me for taking my leave of you, but I'm back now."

"It's fine, it's fine. Did you get the yen yet?"

"About that..." Karamatsu lowered his voice and the first born strained to hear him over the ongoing din. "Osomatsu, are you still within the casino?"

Osomatsu repressed the urge to roll his eyes, affirming once again. "Like I said, it's not as if I can leave!"

A pause- then...

"Alright, well, do not panic if the one or ones who have assailed you are yet within your presence, for earlier I have hurried off to make a call with Todomatsu's phone. The police will be arriving there shortly-"

Osomatsu's eyebrows nearly shot up to his hairline. "The what?!"

"Osomatsu, you don't understand the gravity of your situation-"

"No, no, no, I do know that very well, thank you very much-!" The first born crouched down to the floor, hissing as he covered the receiver. "Karamatsu, are you crazy?! You're the one who doesn't understand! I told you, just bring the yen! That's all I need, not the police-!"

The second eldest nodded though declined, much to the others distress. "It appears as though you have managed to entrap yourself within the company of a notorious criminal group, the likes of which have recently attempted to take root here in the city not too long ago. They're from overseas, and the police has been steadily attempting to find their location- and it is only through this call that they were able to do so now." Osomatsu paused again, eyes widening as he took in the full extent of the others words.

"What, you mean... This is an illegal pachinko parlor run by a mafia gang or something?!"

"Yes, I have had it affirmed so." Karamatsu's confirmation was grave though his voice softened a bit. "Worry not, I have seen to it that the utmost care will be taken in transporting you out of there. I informed our brothers and we will soon be making haste to the hospital nearest your location to await your arrival."

Osomatsu blinked, taken aback. "Wait, hospi- Karamatsu, I'm not actually physically dying! That was just me being over dramatic!"

"Y-You sounded so certain of it, though..."

"Please don't tell me there's an ambulance on the way."

"... It's a bit late to call it off..."

Osomatsu slapped a hand over his face, giving an exhausted sigh. "... What did you tell them...?"

Karamatsu milled for a moment in silence, quietly twining the telephone cord round his finger. "That you were in dire agony from having been apparently impaled somewhere as you had asserted multiple times that you were in fear of dying... I took that to mean you were fearful of the blood loss which had ensued from such an attack, and reported it as such..."

"So you said I was stabbed and bleeding out, then..."

"That is what I said..."

"... and the police and ambulance are on the way here."

"Yes..."

"... and those guys know I took all their money and lost it to a foreign criminal gang and they'll never see it again."

"Correct..."

"... Karamatsu, give me one moment."

Osomatsu set the phone down atop the telephone box and turned to the Karamatsu look alike, eyes grimly set. The change in demeanor took the other aback for a second before he regained his even expression, gaze cool as he gave an unassuming smile. "Yes?"

"Can I see your knife?"

The "other" Karamatsu blinked, gaze hardening at once. "If you mean to try anything, I would heavily advise against it..." Osomatsu was not to be deterred.

"I'm not. I just want to see it for a bit."

The two guards shared a puzzled glance with each other as the Karamatsu-look alike considered the NEET's request before nodding in agreement, if only out of due curiosity. "Very well." He soon had it extricated and held out towards the first born who accepted it and steeled himself as he rested his palm upon the counter-

-before bringing the blade down upon the center of his hand.

A strangled shout escaped him as his grip loosened on the handle and it took a second before the guards were in an uproar around him, the Karamatsu look alike at first unable to do little more than gaze with widened eyes until he was forced from his reverie when another cry was elicited from the NEET as one of the guards wrested the knife free from the first born's hand.

"You- just what were you thinking?!" The "other" Karamatsu failed to mask his shock and Osomatsu merely grit his teeth as he winced, allowing the other guard to drag him back from the counter and haul him to his feet, spilling crimson from the marble onto the carpeted floor. Once he recovered enough however and the burn in his hand gradually began to subside to a dull ache, Osomatsu managed a weak grin much to the incredulousness of the others.

"D-Do I still owe you?"

He was met with stunned silence from all around and the guard who yet held to him released his grip, allowing the first born to lean against the counter as the trio contemplated his fate. At last after what was a seemingly interminable amount of time, the "other" Karamatsu gave a confused nod, looking the first born over with no less incredulity than he did prior. "Er, no... No, you do not. Did you imagine I meant for any physical harm to be done to you had you not any means by which to pay me...?" Osomatsu managed a chuckle, albeit a weak one.

"Too many words..." The Karamatsu look-alike made no comment, reiterating in a manner he believed to be concise.

"Did you do yourself bodily harm under the belief that you could avoid such a thing being done by our own hands?"

"Still too many words- but yeah, sort of."

Osomatsu was quick to add upon seeing the other frown, plastering on a grin. "Uh, hey so- does this mean I'm off the hook then? Can I go home now?" The Karamatsu look-alike glanced over at his two guards and gave them a curt nod, dismissing them. Osomatsu leaned fully into the counter to keep from sinking onto the floor with relief as the pair departed and the "other" Karamatsu studied him for a bit, not yet moving away himself. The first born met his gaze and shifted a bit after a while, grin slipping with nervosity which was barely masked in his voice. "You still need something?" He cast a brief glance at his injured hand, allowing another weak chuckle to escape him though his countenance paled. "Do I need to uh, do it again or-"

"No, no, that will not be necessary!" The Karamatsu look-alike cut in before he heard the others inquiry in full, shaking his hands and his head as though willing the first born to desist in mid-attempt. Osomatsu blinked, taken aback upon hearing the other decline- before his eyes widened with mortified horror upon hearing his next words.

"It was far from it to begin with- never once did I have it in mind to do you any harm-!"

It was in this moment, before the first born could even attempt to respond, that the front doors of the casino were flung open with a slam and a swarm of policemen flooded the floor, attempting to overtake the guards which braced against the attack before launching into the offense of their own accord. The last that Osomatsu could recall before his vision faded to black from the blood yet spilling from his unstaunched wound and his shock from the complete lack of necessity of his attaining of it was a pair of paramedics who managed to reach him amongst the tumult and made haste to borne him away as the world slipped entirely from view.

      "It sounds like it took forever for to calm them down..."

"That is to be expected, of course. We were all under the impression that your life was in grave danger."

The first born cast the second eldest a distraught look and Karamatsu paused, appearing uncertain for a moment. "Yes? What is it that yet ails you, Osom-

"I- I didn't have to stab my hand."

The statement all but sent the other reeling back and Karamatsu gripped onto the hospital railing for purchase, eyes impossibly wide. "Y-You what? We were under the impression that that was- Osomatsu, you- why would you ever even deign to do such a thing?!" The first born glanced away edgewise, brushing a finger under his nose as he offered by way of explanation.

"Well, y'know how you said you called the police and the ambulance was coming and all? I figured that I'll try my luck in getting out of there alive by..."

"... By stabbing yourself." Karamatsu completed his sentence for him, both horrified and incredulous. Osomatsu nodded, concluding swiftly.

"Yeah. See, the thing I didn't know though was that the guy who runs the place- and sort of looks like you by the way, don't ask me why- apparently wasn't planning on doing anything at all?"

Karamatsu mulled over his words, shaking his head as he mumbled. "In other words, you went to such an extent that even he in all probability had not surmised, thus rendering you being interred in this hospital with an actual injury to tend which could have been prevented from being obtained had you but made to inquire as to what your fate would have been before proceeding to go forth with impaling yourself."

"Didn't get all of that, but yeah! That's pretty much what happened."

Osomatsu grinned, rubbing a finger under his nose. "The good news though is that those guys probably feel bad and won't try to kill me for a while!" The second born repressed a sigh, shaking his head.

"How have you been able to last throughout the multiple tribulations of life until this present moment, Osomatsu...?"

"Hey, that goes for all of us y'know?! Especially you!"

"Heh... So you say, but you-"

"Karamatsu you've fallen off the roof more times than I've been unable to pay you guys back, and that's been more times than I can count." Osomatsu deadpanned and the second born flushed, frowning.

"That is not entirely true-"

"It is! Just the other day, you-"

"You steal our money nearly every instance you get-"

"-and we almost decided to board up the-"

"-not to mention failing also to properly explain-"

"-just to keep you from-"

"-were lucky that it was me who answered the phone-!"

"Can you two be any louder?!"

The pair fell silent at once as the door was slammed open, revealing the third born who stood there, hissing. "We can hear everything from the hall! There are other patients here too and some of them are trying to sleep!" The eldest pair winced, lowering their gazes to the floor as Osomatsu rubbed the back of his head with his uninjured hand and Karamatsu leaned against the wall where he stood, crossing his arms. Choromatsu's gaze softened once the duo had calmed and made his way over to the side of the hospital bed, looking the first born's bandaged hand over with evident worry. "How do you feel, Osomatsu-niisan? Did they-" He reached forth, pausing as though reconsidering before laying a tentative hand upon the others arm in all manners of gentleness, much to the first born's surprise. "You weren't hurt anywhere else...?" Osomatsu blinked before flashing the third born a bright grin.

"Nah, I'm fine Choromatsu! You should've seen the fight I gave 'em though, I knocked the guy around everywhere but he still got me in the end! Talk about lousy luck, right?" The third eldest cast a furtive glance up at Karamatsu who casually made to avert his gaze by studying the window blinds before Choromatsu turned back to the first born, frowning. "They- the doctors said the knife was poisoned, Osomatsu-niisan."

This elicited a screech from the eldest who nearly fell faint again. "It was what?!" Karamatsu turned back at once and strode over to the other side of the hospital bed, ashen.

"D-Does that mean he could've truly...?"

Choromatsu nodded, attempting to appear grim though the watering of his eyes had blatantly shown otherwise. "I-I didn't tell the others since they wouldn't be able to handle it. They cried so much already, s-so... "

And it was at this that Osomatsu panicked, heart sinking with remorse as he flailed and did his utmost best to reassure his two younger brothers who were both in tears now, forcing a wide smile as he gazed between them both helplessly. "A-Ah, it's alright now you guys! See? I'm just fine!" Osomatsu flashed the pair a grin in turn as he did his utmost best to assure them as the younger two gazed at him, downright distraught- and soon the first born's eyes were filling up with tears at this as his own expression fell, the pair all but entangling themselves in each others arms as they latched on and sobbed against him.

"Stupid Aniki-!"

"Y-You shitty e-eldest...!"

And Osomatsu, who had nearly as much cause if not more to fall apart as well began wailing right along with them soon after, doing his utmost best to cling onto them both.

"G-Guys, I'm so sorrry-!"

      "... Ah!- I forgot to inform that young man who stabbed himself in my casino that the knife he used was dipped in poison-!"

-.

-.

Casino Karamatsu leapt up and sped out the door of the office he was in, much to the surprise of its one other inhabitant who bolted upright in his chair from where he was resting half-asleep with his arms folded atop his desk, sending papers scattering everywhere as the announcement jolted him from his reverie. "A man who what...?" Casino Osomatsu yawned, blinking as he gazed at the papers fluttering back down to his desk before his senses sharpened- and he all but flung himself off his chair and hastened out the door, calling after his subordinate who had already disappeared from sight.

"Wait, we already left the- we have guys who can do that! Don't- The water's too deep- Karamatsu-!!"

    -. -.

 "Dear young man who courageously though needlessly mutilated himself in my casino..."

The paper was torn to shreds as Osomatsu did his utmost best to reign in a scream, scattering the former letter to the wind. "That's something you should have said the second after I stabbed myself, not three days later-!!"

[bk8indo-blog]

The ultimate guide to choosing the best online casinos in Malaysia

BK8 Online gambling in Malaysia is designed to ensure that players have fun and excitement while having a huge victory. However, Malaysia's online casinos are not as big as other countries, but this situation may change. With the latest changes in regulations, the local gaming industry has been experiencing exponential growth. When choosing a casino that suits your needs, you must choose a reputable casino to avoid manipulating platforms and night fraudsters. But even among legitimate operators, there are huge differences. Before deciding to register an account, you need to weigh all the features of a given casino.

  Things to consider when choosing the best online casino

 Playing in an online casino should be a pleasant experience. For most Malaysian gamblers, it provides a wonderful way to pass the time and hopefully they will get some good luck. However, not all online casinos are the same. When considering your personal preferences, it is important to determine which casino is professional and trustworthy. However, given the many options on the Internet, this task may not be as easy as you think. Here are 9 factors to consider before registering for an online casino in Malaysia.

 1. Licensing and supervision

 Before registering for any site, you should first consider the licensing and regulatory location of any online casino. In addition, when you walk into a mortar in Malaysia and a large brick casino or a betting shop on the street, you can be sure that you are covered. Regulated and licensed regulators such as GamCare, BeGambleAware and Malta Gaming Authority must regulate any operator setting up a store in Malaysia. Please do not register an account from a casino that is not regulated by any of the aforementioned agencies. If you are not sure, you can contact the authority directly to confirm that the casino has been licensed. This way, you can safely deal with legal and reputable casino operators.

  2. Game selection

 Once you have supervised and secured your money, it's time to dive into how to build a great casino. It is recommended to register for a casino that offers multiple options, as the reliability of a casino is only as reliable as the games it offers. Registering a casino with multiple games is an easy way to ensure that you find yourself at the same location that starts within a few weeks. Search a wide range of video poker, slot machines, table games and other casinos you like to play. In addition, for skilled players, aim at online casinos, where you can find a series of unique games to soothe thirst for thirst.

  3. User experience

 Although online casinos lack a section for players to comment on, there are still many well-known casino review sites where gamblers will share their experiences and post comments. Although most casinos will have some negative comments here and there (due to the nature of the business), please carefully check whether the casino you intend to join has many complaints about forfeited funds, withdrawals and similar situations. You should probably stay away from those types of casinos because you have many choices.

 4. Software

 Another important feature of casinos is the software they use, which not only includes the range of available games, but also enhances the user experience. Every online casino needs software to drive its games, and there are numerous third-party software developers, such as Playtech and

 Micro gaming, which provide industry-leading gaming software in licensed and reputable casinos. This software is the main component when it comes to online casinos. Pages, their structure, purpose, and games all depend on the software. The best software developers and providers, such as Net Entertainment, Micro gaming, Playtech, etc., should be thankful for its existence. There are many online casinos on the Internet, and each casino uses one or more different software. Therefore, the software can be used in more than one gambling platform. Some platforms develop their own software. However, in most cases, casinos rely on third-party software development to optimize their operations and costs.

  5. Mobile platform

 If you are like most online gamblers, you will not limit your games to laptops or desktops. The presence of tablets and smartphones means that online casino platforms are essential to provide access across multiple devices. Even if you did n’t plan to gamble on your phone initially, we recommend checking your phone ’s condition before registering.

  6. Membership plan

 The best online casino sites offer special loyalty programs in which players will receive rewards. Today, there are many different versions. This article will not cover them. However, you always need to check what is available and see if it makes you like it. For fun players, the value of these programs is usually not seen in the rewards, but rather in the fun part, which may be more, and top online casinos are starting to do the same. There are some settings that give gamers a feeling; they are enjoying various types of video games, they have made progress at all levels, they have discovered new areas, and have achieved modest but exciting returns in the process.

 7. Bonus

 When casino bonuses appeared on the scene, they soon became an indispensable promotional tool for the entire gambling business. They do not include deposit bonuses, reload bonuses and welcome bonuses. There are many unique types of these rewards, and to this day it is almost guaranteed that once you want to sign up for an account, you can get some kind of reward online. Just like the ground casino, the bonus is not a one-size-fits-all discount, and its conditions, terms, format and amount vary greatly between different operators. All free bonuses are limited to a more or less amount, so once you find a casino offering a $ 1,000 signup bonus, you can rest assured that the money here is not just free money in your pocket.

 Normally, these amounts will be directly credited to the user's account and cannot be cashed without observing the reward terms and conditions. If casinos get the cash accused and pulled, they will immediately go bankrupt simply by abusing the platform. Instead, players should usually meet a condition called a "bet requirement" until they can cash out their winnings.

  8. Good customer service

 Some casinos offer very little customer care and assistance. Others take other methods, including email support, phone support, and online chat 24/7. When you're optimistically looking for a place to play, this may be something you can't think of. However, when you need help, you will soon regret not being more picky about the alternative customer base for comparison. Priority should be given to casinos with selected customer service channels, including the ability to communicate with live services where possible.

 9. Deposit and withdrawal options

 Most casinos verify the identity of the player before the first withdrawal. Therefore, please prepare a scanned copy of your ID and financial documents (bank statements or utility bills) for no more than three months to prove your place of residence. The casino will directly ask for the specific documents they require to verify your identity.

 This is a frequently repeated situation. Gamblers win money in online casinos and then cash out, but find that they are only allowed to withdraw bonuses and longer payment preparation time before other processes are involved. Never make such a mistake. Before you sign up for an account, make sure you have checked the turnaround time for withdrawals. In this way, you will have an understanding of the expectations during the exit.

  The qualities of the best online casino

 Maybe you may want to know what is best. We will not let you rack your brains. Below, we have prepared a list of the best casino properties.

 ·         24/7 customer support

·         Extensive VIP plan

·         Various casino game halls with filters

·         Player friendly bonus policy

·         Big bonuses for new and old players

·         Accept Malaysian Ringgit

·         Multiple payment methods

·         Terms are clear and easy to understand

·         Proponents of responsible gambling

·         Valid online casino license

  Note: When gambling, you don’t want to miss a category of casino games. Nothing is more fun than playing online slot machines. Therefore, please make sure to choose a casino where you can enjoy Malaysian slot machines online.

  Conclusion

  As we can see, there are many factors you need to consider before choosing an online casino in Malaysia and registering for an account. Casinos vary greatly in terms of the overall gambling experience, the games and the structure they provide. By considering each of the factors we outlined above and doing your homework, you can easily find an online

[rainyfaninternet-blog]

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