#a lot has happened the past year and this is the first time ive drawn something in months

[transmascemails]

"Here Lies Poor Old Copia"

[skinnymeanfaggot]

also

[reveriespiral]

<- begin cut ->

for jude? im actually not too sure what it is about him that made me so drawn to him. i think the first thing was that i really liked his design. when i started looking more into his character i fell in LOVE with how hes characterized. his typing style is very unique and i like it, and i especially love his overall. vibes. 13 year old boy who spends 90% of his time alone in a treehouse and lives in paranoia because of aliens and a cult. i personally enjoy how his paranoia is shown-- homestuck has a bad habit of going HAHA LAUGH AT THE MENTALLY ILL PERSON but from what i can tell thats not whats happening with jude. joey specifically brought up that his paranoia has gotten so bad he needed to be hospitalized, and it wasnt played for laughs at ALL from what i could tell. i also personally relate to his extreme paranoia. im not paranoid about aliens or cults or anything and i wont get into specifics but i also have paranoia like that and im glad to see it represented in one of my favorite medias ever and not be something for viewers to just laugh at. i also think it was his name that attracted me to him since ive always really liked the name judah/jude and actually learned recently that if i had been a cis boy my dad wouldve named me judah. another thing is that while im not paranoid about it ive always believed in aliens and been interested in the paranormal. also i have TWO big sisters one irl one online. i think it was the hes just like me factor that made me so obsessed with him.

for judemek? anon im trying so hard to be coherent but it is impossible for me to be normal while talking about them so give me some grace. i just really like dammek as a character for other reasons i wont get into in this post but i think him and jude just. work. pitch or red they just work. theyre both extremely paranoid teenage boys who believe in aliens. dammek is clearly intentionally or not abusive to xefros and is probably part of the reason xefros has such low self esteem. jude is described by joey as 'stupidly self assured' so i really dont think hes going to fall for any bullshit dammek tries to pull on him. also i want to see them fight in hauntswitch if it ever comes out. they would fight with guns. jude seems to be much less averse to guns than joey based off of his flare gun, and dammek obviously likes guns. i have to include a little bit about dammek for this to make sense but to me dammek is very clearly experiencing psychosis. everything we know about him points to him experiencing psychosis which is only worsened by the very real threat that is the empire. i dont think theres as much evidence for jude but i feel like hes also going through psychosis and dammek coming to earth is going to worsen both of them so much but also i feel like once they get past the hurdle of trying to kill eachother tom and jerry style they could either help eachother or make eachother worse. im leaning towards help eachother though. judes friends are described with this phrase i cant remember the exact words but i know it meant theyre the type of people to only do things when theyre given something in exchange. and i think seeing how this affects jude real time would help dammek be a better moirail for xefros. hed be like Wow Jude your friends are fucking assholes. Waitt I've been an asshole tto Xefros oh my gog. theres a lot more reasons i like them but like to simplify it? they just work. and theyre cute together.

<- end cut ->

what do you like about jude and judemek, if you don't mind me asking?

anon i hope you know im insane

for jude? im actually not too sure what it is about him that made me so drawn to him. i think the first thing was that i really liked his design. when i started looking more into his character i fell in LOVE with how hes characterized. his typing style is very unique and i like it, and i especially love his overall. vibes. 13 year old boy who spends 90% of his time alone in a treehouse and lives in paranoia because of aliens and a cult. i personally enjoy how his paranoia is shown-- homestuck has a bad habit of going HAHA LAUGH AT THE MENTALLY ILL PERSON but from what i can tell thats not whats happening with jude. joey specifically brought up that his paranoia has gotten so bad he needed to be hospitalized, and it wasnt played for laughs at ALL from what i could tell. i also personally relate to his extreme paranoia. im not paranoid about aliens or cults or anything and i wont get into specifics but i also have paranoia like that and im glad to see it represented in one of my favorite medias ever and not be something for viewers to just laugh at. i also think it was his name that attracted me to him since ive always really liked the name judah/jude and actually learned recently that if i had been a cis boy my dad wouldve named me judah. another thing is that while im not paranoid about it ive always believed in aliens and been interested in the paranormal. also i have TWO big sisters one irl one online. i think it was the hes just like me factor that made me so obsessed with him.

for judemek? anon im trying so hard to be coherent but it is impossible for me to be normal while talking about them so give me some grace. i just really like dammek as a character for other reasons i wont get into in this post but i think him and jude just. work. pitch or red they just work. theyre both extremely paranoid teenage boys who believe in aliens. dammek is clearly intentionally or not abusive to xefros and is probably part of the reason xefros has such low self esteem. jude is described by joey as 'stupidly self assured' so i really dont think hes going to fall for any bullshit dammek tries to pull on him. also i want to see them fight in hauntswitch if it ever comes out. they would fight with guns. jude seems to be much less averse to guns than joey based off of his flare gun, and dammek obviously likes guns. i have to include a little bit about dammek for this to make sense but to me dammek is very clearly experiencing psychosis. everything we know about him points to him experiencing psychosis which is only worsened by the very real threat that is the empire. i dont think theres as much evidence for jude but i feel like hes also going through psychosis and dammek coming to earth is going to worsen both of them so much but also i feel like once they get past the hurdle of trying to kill eachother tom and jerry style they could either help eachother or make eachother worse. im leaning towards help eachother though. judes friends are described with this phrase i cant remember the exact words but i know it meant theyre the type of people to only do things when theyre given something in exchange. and i think seeing how this affects jude real time would help dammek be a better moirail for xefros. hed be like Wow Jude your friends are fucking assholes. Waitt I've been an asshole tto Xefros oh my gog. theres a lot more reasons i like them but like to simplify it? they just work. and theyre cute together.

[sugako]

after dinner special

bokuto x f!reader x hinata sum: after seeing the way his teammate looks at you, bokuto comes up with a plan to help all parties cw: 18+ only minors dni i am begging you, established relationship (bokuto x reader), slight manipulation (?? reader/bo make a secret plan to seduce hinata and he wants to so not really but idk what else to tag it as), oral (f!receiving), double pussyjob, nipple play, orgasm denial, D/s, spit roast, unprotected, hinabo if you squint extra hard wc: 4.2k a/n: finally back from the dead with this wayyy overdue fic ive been thinking about/writing for months, no edits or beta bc i'm too impatient and haven't posted in so long

Above all else, Bokuto was incredibly perceptive to other’s emotions. Among other aspects, that quality had really drawn you to him even if it wasn’t as extraordinarily overt as his confidence and enthusiasm. His perceptiveness didn’t end with you, of course, he was well-connected with his teammates, which meant when he saw the way Hinata’s eyes just barely glazed over when he met you he knew there was something more happening in his head. He watched the burning grow in Hinata after he had witnessed the two of you had, quite obviously, snuck off to another room during a get-together at Meian’s, spit still drying at the corner of your dry, puffy lips a week prior.

Even he wasn’t sure what exactly his plan was as he started up in the locker room a couple weeks later, oversharing every little detail he could recall about your body, namely when it was under him. Ignoring Atsumu and Kiyoomi’s groans for him to stop while Shugo and Oliver snickered to themselves reminiscing about their own escapades from a handful of years ago, he focused on Hinata’s reaction.

Shōyō remained uncharacteristically quiet as he rambled on about how cute your soft tits were, only speaking to quietly excuse himself to the bathroom. He was careful, but not careful enough to hide the tent in his shorts.

Not one to keep a secret, the words came tumbling from his mouth when he burst into your shared apartment.

“I think Hinata likes you!” He managed, tearing off his shoes to stumble into the hallway to wrap you in a tight hug like he did nearly every day.

“I-...what?” You choke, wrapping a tentative arm back around him and peeling away to look at him in the eyes. “What do you mean?”

“Not like… I don’t know, I think he wants to fuck you.” The smile on his face doesn’t waver, only confusing you.

“I’m not sure how to take this.” You deadpan, brows just short of knitting together. “Why…?”

“Well if you would like that I certainly wouldn’t mind.” His teeth graze over your skin as he pecks messy kisses all over your cheeks and neck.

“You wouldn’t mind?” You blankly repeat back, holding his back by his muscled shoulders to make him look you in the eyes. “Because not minding something and wanting something are very different and I just want to make sure whatever we’re about to talk about we’re just being really clear.”

Bokuto inhaled a massive breath, squeezing his eyes shut tight as he collected exactly what he wanted to say to you. Before he could, the smell coming from the kitchen distracted his senses, leaving him to weakly exhale and blink his eyes open. “Talk over dinner?”

The long talk over the dinner table was eventually fruitful. After he collected himself and stuffed his rumbling stomach, Bokuto was better able to explain what he had seen in Hinata. It made you recall every time you had seen him and you would be lying if you said you didn’t see it too. He wasn’t exactly a subtle person.

When it came down to it, you certainly weren’t opposed. Bokuto certainly seemed interested in the prospect of sharing you, especially with his favorite prodigy as he liked to class him. You recognized that Hinata was attractive and you had to admit that the concept of being squished between the two thick, bubbly men was alluring as long as he was truly interested.

Before the full invitation to come over for dinner - specially prepared by you - had even slipped from Bokuto’s mouth, Hinata was eagerly accepting. Part of you dreaded the entire ordeal, anxieties bubbling up about the lead up and the talking beforehand that you had foolishly agreed to do most of. Over dinner you stayed a little quieter than usual, trying to gauge Hinata’s expression and body language.

When he politely excuses himself to use the restroom after finishing, Bokuto grabs your hand across the table, rubbing a thumb over your knuckles.

“If you’re nervous we can stop right here.” He whispers, grinning softly.

You can’t help but smile back, shaking your head. “No, I’m okay,” you assure him, “I am a little nervous, but I really want to.”

He opens his mouth to say something else, but is cut off by the sound of the bathroom door closing and the soft pad of Hinata’s feet down the hallway. Clearing your throat, you give a reassuring smile to Bokuto, and stand to face where Hinata soon pops out of.

“Hinata, would you-”

“Shōyō is fine!” He interjects. “Sorry, didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“That’s fine,” you smile, ghosting your hand down his arm and resting your palm against his elbow. “Shōyō, would you mind helping me wash up in the kitchen. I feel bad asking the guest, but Kōtarō has something for you and you’ll get to it faster if I finish this.”

Hinata can feel his heart pounding behind his rib cage so hard he worries you can hear his pulse reverberating. You look so sweet with those pleading eyes staring at him, the warm touch of your fingertips sending heat to his chest.

“Of course, I don’t mind.” He nods, letting you lead him a room away to the kitchen.

“Great, thank you, this is such a big help.” You grin while placing the dirty dishes in the sink before you and handing him a dry towel. “You can just dry and put them in the cabinet in front of you.”

“Okay,” he says quietly, eyeing down your low-cut shirt as you squeeze your arms together and lean down to grab the first bowl. His eyes roll to the back of his head when you turn the tap on a little too fast and water splashes all over the front of your thin, pale dress, making the black lacy bra underneath pop.

“Whoops!” You exclaim, smiling a little too happily, feeling how his feet shift beside you. “This tap is a little loose, I always get messy and wet trying to do anything.”

He has to bite down hard on the inside of his cheek to keep from groaning, glad that your gaze is in the sink and not on his flushed face. He doesn’t want to feel this way about his friend’s girlfriend, but it’s so hard when you’re standing so close - did you take a step toward him? when did your hip start brushing against his? - and you look so pretty.

“So, Shōyō…” you start, handing him another dish, “Kōtarō talks about you a lot, you know.”

“Really?” His voice is pitched and strained, stopping short of choking on his own words.

“Yeah, he thinks you’re great. He was so excited when you joined the team. He, uh, he pays attention, a lot more than some people give him credit for.”

Hinata nods, carefully placing the bowl in the cupboard. “He’s great, I’ve always loved watching him play.”

“He’s fun to watch,” you agree, “You know he thinks….actually, can I just ask what your type is?” The words tumble out quickly as you try to gain confidence, a small bit of worry creeping into the back of your head.

“My type?” He repeats back, pausing in his drying motions. “I don’t know if I really have one. Just anyone I feel good with. Why?” When he turns to look at you again you’re turned to face him, a small smile lighting up your features.

“That’s a good way to look at things. I only ask because, well Kōtarō seems to think you have some kind of interest in me.” You force the words to come out casually, keeping your eyes on him. Hinata sputters and chokes on his own words, the way your hand comes down over his doing absolutely nothing to help him compose himself. “There’s no good way to say this, but he was thinking you could, uh well take what you’ve been thinking about, if you want to.”

Taking a deep swallow, he took a short deep breath to clear his mind. “And what do you think?”

Tension dissipates from your body at his question. “I think I would like you to do whatever you want. Touch me, kiss me, anything. Only if you want to.”

His fists clench and unclench again, gears turning in his head as he realizes this was planned. All those stories Bokuto told, the glint in his eyes for the past few weeks, the way you put yourself on display for him all night with that sly little smirk - it was all part of some plan. A little worried voice in the back of his head told him this was too good to be true. But you were offering yourself up to him, angled forward so your tits would pop and watching him so carefully as though he were a scared animal ready to run, and he knew it had to be true.

The timid, apprehensive look he had been sporting slowly drained from his face, replaced with a much more confident and delighted one. His hands moved from his sides to dig into your waist, lifting you up onto the counter behind you.

“Don’t tease me.” He whispers hoarsely, lips ghosting over the pulse of your throat. The loose dress Bokuto had purposefully picked out for you to wear for the evening rode up as Hinata settled his thick body between your welcoming knees.

“I’m not,” you pant, “Kōtarō really wanted this.”

A shuddered sigh comes from his chest as he rests his head against your shoulder, just barely kissing the soft spot between your neck and shoulder. You fidget restlessly, trying to pull his still body closer to no avail.

“Wanna know he wants this.” He says eventually. “I trust you, I just…”

“No, no, I get it.” You say a little too abruptly, fishing around for where your phone was tossed onto the counter. With shaky hands you hurried to click it open, immediately going to your messages, scrolling to the most recent chat with Bokuto where he depicted how much he wanted to see you fucked out on his and Hinata’s cocks in vivid detail. You push the phone into his hand. “You can scroll wherever, he mentioned it before that one’s just… yeah.”

“Oh, wow.” He breathes, glancing through a few other messages from earlier in the week. Gently, he sets the phone down beside you before pulling your hips to the edge of the counter. His lips collide with the base of your throat knocking the air right from you.

You wind your fingers up in his hair as he pressed harsh kisses straight down your front, his rough hands pushing the skirt of your dress up even higher, leaving the tops of your thighs completely exposed. He keeps journeying lower until his cheek is flush to the hem of your panties. When his nose presses up against the slowly growing damp patch leaking his shoulders heave as though to hold himself back.

“And he doesn’t want us to wait up…?”

Truthfully, you didn’t know completely. Bokuto had asked to make some kind of subtle move on Hinata in private, he figured it would be less stressful for the both of you, but he hadn’t said how far to go with him, and you weren’t really sure what he was doing in some other part of the house, and Hinata’s fingers were so hot against your skin…

“No, it’s fine.” You pant, desperation evident in your voice. He doesn’t need much more, hand moving to pull the stretchy fabric you had purposefully worn to the side, his wide tongue darting out to lap up the wetness seeping from you.

With an aching whine, you lean into his touch, massaging his head and bringing him closer to you with every burning second that passes. Not that you had expected him to be inexperienced by any means, but you hadn’t expected him to be so good. He was loud, moaning against your cunt as he buried his tongue inside of you, nose tapping against your pleading clit.

The sound of your breathy whimpers and the loud slurping squelches drowned out the steps coming down the hall or the kitchen door swinging open. Bokuto stood there for a moment with a small smile, admiring how pretty you looked like this, even if he wished it were him, but he couldn’t let the moment pass him by.

“Puppy,” he sighed. The first syllable was enough to make Hinata pop off of you and stumble back to turn around, eyes hazy and drunken of the taste of you. Ignoring the hardened look in Bokuto’s eyes, you pouted sweetly, spreading your legs a little more to let him see your soiled panties.

“Kōtar-”

“You’re being greedy, don’t you think, puppy? Going ahead without me like that.” He imitates you with a fake pout, the look never quite meeting his blazing eyes. You can feel what’s coming and make no more attempt to argue. Hinata is taking in the interaction, still halfway in his own daze. “She’s great, huh, Shōyō? Pretty little pussy and she makes the best noises, especially when she’s crying for your cock.”

Hinata swallows hard, absentmindedly palming over his pants where he’s quickly grown half-hard. “Yeah, she’s, yeah no, uh she’s really great. This is still okay?”

Both of you nod quickly, reassuring him, but you remain silent for now, trying to settle before you know what’s to come.

“Totally okay as long as you’re okay.” Bokuto drops the edge in his tone to carefully watch him for a moment, assessing.

“Completely.” He agrees with a dreamy sigh.

Nodding again, Bokuto approaches the two of you. Refusing to meet his eyes you stare just ahead at the door.

“Oh, don’t look so sad, puppy, you know you’ll get what you want in the end anyway.” He jabs as he scoops you over his shoulder and gives you a gentle pat on the back of your thighs. “Let’s at least go to the living room.”

You glance back at Hinata, mouthing a silent whoops, while Bokuto leads him around the corner. Bokuto plops into the corner of the couch, back propped up by the plush arm, and maneuvering your pliable body to sit comfortably in his lap with your back pulled up flush to his chest. You’re gently pushed forward so he can peel the dress off and unclasp your bra. He’s calm for now, at least on the outside, but you can feel his heart pounding through the thin fabric of his shirt.

“Don’t need these anymore,” he hums, latching his fingers in the sides of your underwear and motioning for you to lift your hips to let him slide them off. Hooking his elbows under your knees, he pulls your thighs to your chest, high enough so that he can palm your breasts. Quietly whining, you turn your head away so you don’t have to look directly up at Hinata - not that he’d notice your face with the way your cunt was glistening under the low, soft lights of the room. “Shh,” he directs at you before glancing back up at Hinata, “go ahead, but don’t let her cum.”

With a warm grin he gets on his knees between Bokuto’s spread legs. You almost felt too exposed, all power taken from your hands, splayed open like this. Bokuto slots his chin against your shoulder and presses the softest kiss to your cheek in stark contrast to the way his rough hands are kneading and pinching your sensitive breasts.

Hinata eagerly gets back to it, lavishing your cunt with softer licks than before, making your hips shake as they seek out more friction. While your neediness grows so too does Bokuto’s grip on you.

“So pretty,” he coos, eyes glued to where Hinata was firmly pressed against you. Pride bloomed in his chest at the sight of his teammate sloppily eating out his favorite girl so enthusiastically, appreciating you so much as he should.

It’s impossible for him to not get rock hard with the way you’re grinding down into his lap and the crude, wet sounds and groans vibrating from the back of Hinata’s throat.

“Taste so good.” Hinata grumbles, pulling back and forcing his tense hips to stop rutting into the couch cushion. He feels himself making a mess in his pants, hoping that he isn’t leaking through to your nice furniture, but he can’t quite bring himself to stop either. Both Bokuto and you watch the string - you’re not sure whether it’s his spit or your own wetness - that stays connected between your slit and his puffy, glossy lips.

“Good...good job.” Bokuto sighs. You’re not sure if he’s praising you or Hinata, but you don’t have much time to think too hard about it before he releases your legs and wedges his hands under between himself and you to pull his straining cock from his pants. Mind buzzing, still a little hazy from the feeling of Hinata’s tongue, you grab out from him, pulling on the band of his pants. Truthfully, he’s not quite sure what you’re asking for but he does know how tight his balls are and how inviting your cunt looks.

Just as Bokuto is settling his cock between your ass, Hinata’s pants are slipped off, thrown to the ground. He dips his head down to take one of your breasts into his mouth, moaning around you and pressing in close so his tip catches against your clit. At your whiny cry and keening, Bokuto lets out a low, single chuckle. “Don’t let her have your cock, not all the way. You were being so greedy earlier puppy, I don’t think you deserve it yet.”

Hinata keeps his mouth firmly planted on your chest and reaches down to perfectly slip himself between the top of your folds, acutely aware of Bokuto’s heavy head just barely bumping against the base of his own cock. They’re both so thick and heavy as they rabidly hump against you, Bokuto maneuvering your body for you back and forth across both of them. Everything is warm and wet between Hinata’s mouth on your chest and Bokuto’s lips kissing down the side of your neck.

The tease of release that’s been creeping up on you for so long draws closer and closer. Hinata’s cock is catching so exactly on your swollen clit and Bokuto’s tip keeps threatening to slip past your entrance, slick dripping past your thighs.

“Gonna, ahg, cu-cum!” You manage out, hips already bouncing on their own accord against them.

“Go ahead.” Bokuto says with a shaky breath, squeezing you as tight as he could between his body and Hinata’s. One more roll of their hips has you crashing down, pleasure rolling through your body. All you can feel is warmth and overwhelming satisfaction as you twitch between their arms, creaming across their cocks. “Good girl, good girl…” you faintly hear Bokuto coo into your ear as you slump back against him.

The buzzing, quiet moment is quickly squashed as he hoists you out of his lap and onto all fours. He’s talking to Hinata and you know you should be listening, but your pussy is still throbbing and you’re trying to catch your breath.

“...okay, baby?” You catch the very end of his sentence and blink hard, desperate to refocus.

“W-wait, what? Sorry, I just-”

“It’s okay, puppy,” he rubs a soothing hand down your back, slowly bringing you back to reality. “Need a second?”

You shake your head, the last of the fog slipping away. Before you, you see Hinata, his rigid cock slicked up by you only a few inches from your face. “I’m okay now, can you just say that again?”

“‘Course,” he grins, teasing your entrance, “I said I’m going to take your pretty pussy from back here and Shōyō is going to use your mouth. If you want.”

Wiggling your hips back to meet his and craning your neck up to look at Hinata you give a deft nod.

“I do, I want that.” You sigh.

Trembling with excitement, already so riled up from feeling you cum against him, Hinata shuffles the last bit forward. He’s pretty and much thicker than you had imagined. The tight strain of scattered veins and his heavy balls tell you all you need to know about how pent up he obviously is. Reaching out with palms still a bit shaky, you helped to reel him in the rest of the way with welcoming, parted lips.

You wrapped your fingers tightly around where you couldn’t quite reach, sloppily taking more and more of him with each bob of your head. His salty precum meshed with what was leftover of your own mess, the taste making you moan around his length.

Bokuto was trying to move slower now, recognizing that you were easily slipping, but the way you rocked your body back and forth bumping against his sensitive, reddened tip, he couldn’t hold back much more. Digging his fingers into your hip, he eased the motions of your body, lining himself up, resisting from plowing into you at full force.

“Ready?” He asks, nearly whining. At the sound of his voice, you pull off from Hinata, letting your quickly tiring jaw grow slack.

“Uh-huh.” You barely heave out before wrapping your lips around him again. So sure you can take both at once and not falter, you ramp back up to your original pace, slobbering down his cock, the click of your quick motions echoing around your head. Unfortunately for your ego, you’re dead wrong.

Bokuto wastes no time drilling himself into you, setting a bruising pace straight from the beginning. It’s all you can do to loudly moan around Hinata’s cock, still stuffed in your mouth by the slight pistoning of his hips, the way Bokuto is ramming you forward only forcing him deeper down your throat.

As you gag, sputter, and moan down his length, drool dripping onto the already soiled cushions below, Hinata feels the pressure building and building in his core. Electricity tingles down his limbs, aided by the fucked out look in your pretty eyes. He doesn’t even have to move now with the way Bokuto is railing you against him. He wonders if you realize he’s close when you suck a little tight, cheeks hollowing as you take a little more of him, the hand that had been working his base coming down to lightly hold his swollen balls.

You don’t know. At this point, you’re moving on autopilot, simply trying your best. Your brain doesn’t know where to focus - Hinata filling out your mouth or Bokuto as he purposely alternates between hitting against your spongy spot and deep inside of you. It’s all a mess of spit, sweat, and cum, but you don’t think you’ve felt the rush of pleasure that comes with being used so well by more than one person.

Bokuto doesn’t know how much longer he can last. You’re clamping around, cunt fluttering each time his digs in a little deep or Hinata’s cock twitches against your tongue. He can tell by the scrunched up expression on his friend’s face that he can’t last much longer and he doesn’t blame him. Between fucking against your pussy and being wrapped up in your pretty mouth, no one really could. He’s determined to hold out though, a little spark of competition lighting up his chest. When Bokuto’s strokes suddenly slow you groan again, the vibrations dragging a stuttered moan from Hinata’s pretty lips.

“Gonna, hngh, uh gonna cum.” He sputters out, hips quivering as he tries to hold back from fucking too far back into your throat. At that, Bokuto’s hips speed up again, forcing a little whimpered cry, muffled by the cock in your mouth, from you. Still, you force yourself to focus on Hinata, sucking him dry as soon as the first spurt of cum hits the back of your throat.

He cums fast and hard and a lot. It’s seeping out from your lips, making him messier than he already was until he’s pulling his softening length from your mouth and flopping back against the couch, gently rubbing your arm while he catches his breath. With a heavy grin, Bokuto shoves a hand between your shoulder blades, knocking you into Hinata’s lap. Somewhat in vain, you try to clean him off between the pitchy mewls and cries that you breathe out while Bokuto chases his own release.

In no time, he’s there again, his own pressure built up as high as it could just before he burst inside of you. He fucks himself raw, your tight hole sucking him in, his cum only making it easier to slip in and out of you. Knowing he’ll finish when he’s completely spent, you lie limp in Hinata’s lap and he lazily wraps a hand around the back of your neck, soothing the leftover tension. You recognize Bokuto’s nearly done when his cock stops twitching and his hips slot against yours with some finality just before he slumps over you.

Whining when he slips out, even soft his cock is still a tight squeeze, you fall all the way against the couch, legs giving out at last. He falls back against the back, moving your legs to sit on top of his thighs and massaging them with great care. Completely spent and drifting half-asleep you just barely hear him.

“So,” he starts, head lolling toward Hinata who’s still lightly working his fingers against your upper back, “Dinner next week?”

[barnesandco]

Little Hands (IV)

Series Masterlist

Communication is key.

This is an entry for @star-spangled-bingo 2021. Word count: 2248. Square filled: “Sung to Sleep”

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: More Hydra Evilness, More Sad Child, Parental Anxieties. Brief mentions of war, sickness, death, grief. 

A/N: I know 2.2k words isn’t objectively a lot but boy did this feel like it. I hope every word is worth it and that you enjoy! Lmk what you think!!! Also I won’t even lie, the idea of Steve’s kids is 100% from one of my favorite comfort fics, family means no one gets left behind or forgotten, by the genius, the wonderful cosmicocean. IT’S SO SOFT. Pls read it.

You’re stunned when Bucky tells you what’s going on. The idea that his daughter (?) was made in a lab like some kind of experiment, and that the man who led said experiment now wants her back like she is his property, his weapon, is too horrid to consider for very long. Weaponizing an innocent child. Hydra.

Bucky gave you the broad strokes of the investigation – currently running on little more than educated guesses based on the meagre intel they have – and has let you know that he has had to recuse himself from the case, due to his… personal connection. That leaves him somewhere he finds awkward, to say the least.

It's evident in the way the corners of his lips turn down, how he is constantly rubbing the pads of his fingers against the coarse scratch of denim, while he watches Ana watch Zoya, Steve’s 17-year-old daughter, working on a tablet. Zoya tucks a strand of hair behind her hijab, then continues to draw up a storyboard, narrating the events to the younger girl. Steve had apparently forgotten the lunch his kids had made him at home, so Zoya had brought it in, and decided to stay the day.

Ana’s quiet, attentive for the most part, listening with her full capabilities, but her eyes flit away from the screen every now and then to look at you and Bucky, as if to reassure herself that you’re still there.

Besides that, there aren’t all that many distractions present for an already precocious child. Most of the team has dispersed for the investigation, with the exception of Peter, who is sat at a table in the corner making intentionally fruitless efforts at teaching Morgan chess, while she giggles and tries to stack the pieces like Jenga blocks instead.

However, Bucky’s restlessness is infectious, and you think he needs to get it under check before it grows any further. That’s why you stand, saying, “Could we go for a little walk, Bucky?”

He nods, man of few words that he is, and leads the way. You’re sure he knows that you formulated it like a request for his benefit, but he doesn’t mention it. It’s just as well – that he knows you like that, and knows when to accept the proverbial hand being offered.

Bucky takes you to a corner of the roof that you’d mistake for a community garden if you didn’t know any better. The Avengers seem to have green thumbs, or at least, a significant portion of them do. They’re good with plants, and possessive about them, too. Autumn ferns grow outside the circle they seem to have been planted in – with a sign shouting Wanda! – to invade the territory of a vegetable garden labelled Bruce (accompanied by a Hulkish, green thumbs up presumably not drawn by the man himself).  

Meticulously maintained daylilies and columbines, in vivid reds and vibrant purples, litter the edges of the path that has been carved through this little paradise, and the birdhouses between them stake the claim of the owner more effectively than a neon sign screaming Sam Wilson. Bucky’s told you about his abilities, how they veer into the decidedly supernatural but Sam insists are only the residue of a childhood with homing pigeons.

Nothing here looks like Bucky’s, though. He seems to be taking it in, perhaps thinking about his own little paradise back in the city, and how he’s chosen to keep it distant from that of his teammates. That worries you. He worries you.

And this, the situation with Anastasia, becoming a father, it’s terrifying. Hell, if it scares you this much, how is he feeling? You ask him as much.

“Bucky, are you okay?”

He laughs, softly, disbelievingly, no malice in his scoff, only fear. Only the sound of a voice saturated with consternation and total, complete anxiety. “Would you be?” He asks back.

“That’s why I’m asking.”

Bucky evades the questions, turning first one way on the path, and then the other, approaching the edge clear of shrubbery and blooms alike, resting his palms on the top of the wall.

“I can’t be a father.”

The solemnity in his tone allows no room for negotiations, but then, neither do the facts. “You are,” you reply, somewhat hesitantly, because the technicalities of how Ana came to be are still a little blurry to you. She’s far from a normal child, and not quite a clone, either. She is of Bucky, though. His, in any way that counts.

“That little girl was created in a Hydra lab as a super soldier to serve the cause,” he says, shaking his head vigorously as the cause repulses him even more than it does you. “And who knows what else she was put through before SHIELD fell and Orlov got her out, and it’s my fault.”

“You didn’t—”

“I didn’t ask for it to happen but it wouldn’t have happened if I hadn’t happened. They used me to make a super soldier from scratch, and now I’m supposed to raise her? It’s not that simple. I’m not Steve. I can’t…”

Being honest, you feel you’re pretty far out of your depth here. But you’ve promised him your help, and you’ll do your best.

“You don’t have to. There are other options.” You’re sure you’re overstepping. Perhaps this gentle companionship has not yet reached the point where you can give advice on parenting. But if you don’t, who will? Steve, whose answers don’t enter the gray territory Bucky’s mind is residing in right now, who parents like he was born for it?

Steve chose fatherhood. Bucky has been nailed to it like it’s a new cross to bear, heavier than all the previous ones put together.

His gaze roams the grounds that stretch as far as you can see. You’re both far away from home right now, far outside your comfort zones.

“I’m sorry for dragging you into my mess, sweetheart. It’s not right. You have things to do, and I shouldn’t have—”

“Bucky, I’ve been staring at the same four sentences of dialogue for the past month. I literally could not have been happier to get out of the house. Even if I do wish it was under better circumstances,” you say fervently. You’re here because he needs you. Because Ana needs you. It’s nice to be needed.

“That’s one way to put it,” he smiles, and you’re glad to see it.

“Not to mention, it’s not your fault. It’s not anyone’s fault except whoever your team is looking for,” you insist. “And Ana’s a sweet girl. A little quiet, but Baba says I was, too.”

This, Bucky thinks about. You wonder if he was a quiet child, too. “What’s he like?”

“Hmm?” The reverie snaps like a rubber band.

“Your father?” Bucky asks, shyly, his eyes meeting yours, letting you know exactly why he’s asking.

You look up at the clouds, think back to Boston, to time shared between the library and the park. A childhood with books, lunch breaks under a desk in an office at MIT, stealing his glasses and running away with them, rubbing at his stubbly beard like he was a housecat. Inside jokes with your father and rolled eyes with your mother. Laughter and tears, laughter with tears.

After a long while, trying and failing to summarize your father, you say, “A jokester. The most sarcastic person I know. But still kind of neurotic, to be honest. The kind of parent that makes you show up at the airport a full four hours before your flight.” It’s grossly insufficient. For a writer, you’re not very good with words. You suppose it’s not the words that are the problem; it’s the lifetime they have to encompass. “What about yours?”

Bucky sighs. “Soldier. He’s one thing I don’t feel bad for not remembering because it wasn’t Hydra that wiped those memories. He just died when I was really small. Survived the Great War only to be killed by TB a few years later at home.”

“I’m sorry.” You avert your eyes. Grief feels private, even decades later, even in the smallest doses.

He shakes his head, smiles fondly, up at the sky, too, like you did. Only, he’s smiling at it, like he’s thinking of someone beyond the clouds. “Don’t be. Was a long time ago.”

“That doesn’t mean it isn’t allowed to hurt anymore.”

“You sound like my therapist.”

“I sound like my therapist.”

At this, the two of you look at each other and burst into laughter. It feels forbidden, as though the severity of the situation condemns joy. That isn’t fair, you think. The situation is that of a child, and nobody needs laughter more than kids do. Food for the soul.

When the echo of your exhilarations falls, Bucky grows serious once more. “They have them for kids, now, too, right?” He asks, referring to therapists. “Do you think Anastasia should see one? She’s not exactly… normal, you know?”

“Maybe.” It’s a difficult question, but a good indicator of how Bucky is growing to feel about Ana. “You’d make a good dad, if you wanted to be one, Bucky,” you say, and mean it. It’s plain as day that he cares about her.

“I can’t even remember my own.”

“Parental instincts are intuitive, not genetic,” you tell him.

“You been reading handbooks?” He teases.

“You’d be surprised by how much you learn from the rabbit holes you fall down while researching books,” you deadpan.

“Can any of that research get the nightmares out of my head? I think it might scare a kid.”

The self-deprecation hurts, but your response is honest, heartfelt. “She likes you already.”

“She won’t if she thinks I’ve run away,” he answers, straightening up. He might be trying to evade the conversation, but you’ll let him, for now. He’s gotten some fresh air, had some time to clear his thoughts, or sort them, at least. And so you return, to the little girl who has a tighter grip on both of you than you even realize.

------

Ana grows unsettled as night darkens the sky. It could be the ruckus she isn’t quite used to. It could be the toy fire truck Tony has been altering with his utensils to increase its noise output, much to Morgan’s amusement. It could be the actual parrot perched on Sam’s shoulder.

Whatever the cause, she hasn’t succumbed to it enough to make a seat out of the fridge again. She’s sitting in her seat, between Bucky and yourself, eating the hummus Bruce and Wanda have made. Nat discusses sniper scopes with Clint, Peter tries to get away with eating the side of vegetables on Jordan’s plate without Steve noticing, and Bucky eats silently, eyes almost constantly on Anastasia, who takes it all in while her knee bounces up and down with an ever-increasing speed, much like her father’s.

You excuse yourselves soon after dessert, after Morgan has fallen asleep against Jordan’s arm on the couch, and Steve and Tony’s friendly debate is starting to develop the edge it tends to when they’ve been bantering for too long.

Bucky sets up on the sectional in his room, and leaves the ridiculously large double bed to you and Anastasia. It’s been a strange, strange day, and one can only hope that tomorrow brings some ease, a balm for the prickly, fiery ache that has settled over the man you care so much about.

------

When you wake, it’s because of singing. For half a moment, you think you’re in a dream, but as your eyes adjust to the blanket of dark, you see the shadow on the sofa nearby. Only, it’s bigger than just Bucky. Anastasia is sitting on his lap, her head cushioned against his chest. Scrambling for your glasses, and turning on the lamp on the bedside table, you notice that there are trails of drying tears on her little cheeks, and she’s still shaking with the aftershocks of whatever scare she must’ve had during the night.

Not for the first time, you curse your deep sleep that meant you didn’t wake with Ana, but watch in wonder as Bucky sings.

Hush, little baby, don't say a word Papa's going to buy you a mockingbird

And if that mockingbird won't sing Papa's going to buy you a diamond ring

Ana’s eyes begin to close, but she fights the sleep. Bucky doesn’t let her. He lies down, easing her down beside himself, singing all the while.

And if that diamond ring turns brass Papa's going to buy you a looking glass

And if that looking glass gets broke Papa's going to buy you a billy goat

His voice fills the room, low though it may be, and he curls himself around Ana.

And if that billy goat won't pull Papa's going to buy you a cart and bull

And if that cart and bull turn over Papa's going to buy you a dog named Rover

She succumbs to the lull of his tone, his song, his promises, sighs a little sigh, lets the last, little hiccup leave her body.

And if that dog named Rover won't bark Papa's going to buy you a horse and cart

And if that horse and cart fall down You'll still be the sweetest little baby in town

Bucky lifts his hand from where it was stroking the hair at her temple, and lays his arm over his daughter. They’re safe, for now. Together.

[amarillokidding]

(I'm just gonna post it by itself but it was an ask by my friend Vojta about what books I like!!!)

***

Thank you for the question :D

To be warned, I don't read as much as I used to BUT I have started getting back into it since this past year.

For starters my favorite types of books and genres are adult and contemporary dealing with family dynamics. I love books about families and either how messed up stuff is and working it out or healing from it. When I say adult I mean just dealing with older characters as opposed to teenagers which young adult is abundant with. Other genres I like are high fantasy with like kingdoms and magic colleges and stuff. Its all bc of elder scrolls I guess🙄 I'm obsessed with like, ''''organizations'''' and how each person fits into its place and how characters work together in different ways. Waaahh😭😭😭 also a fan of coming of age but in a specific way I don't know how to describe. Its like, you're growing up and seeing things the way they really happened and you understand now. Its like everything is different but its still the same.

My favorite book is Along for the Ride by Sarah Dessen. I don't like mentioning it that much bc she has a sort of "reputation" for ya formulaic cishet books and yea I agree (sort of) but its the first book from her I read and therefore it was new to me. Its getting a Netflix film and its in post production rn (I'm keeping up with it on instagram by following the actors and director). Its about a girl named Auden, its the summer before college and she stays with her dad and his new family in a beach town for the summer and she meets this guy called Eli and bc they both dont sleep at night and she's never done a lot of stuff kids have done so he decides to help her experience her life for the first time. I'm obsessed with this book, Auden and Eli both have like traumas and stuff in their past that theyre both dealing with and it feels realistic to me on how their relationship evolves as opposed to just falling in love suddenly. The story isn't quite a romance as the description and everyone says. Theres a love interest but the story deals more heavily with Auden's family as her mom is super condescending and judgemental and her dad barely cares about her. Literally almost all scenes with Audens mom have me like:

Its just my favorite book ive drawn fanart for it before and even recently its that I just haven't posted it for no reason probably bc I'm insane. My audio tag is the shortened form "aud" as a reference to her actually lol. I definitely think of Auden as a comfort character and I see a lot of myself in her.

Another book I loved was "We Were Liars" by E. Lockhart. This is a 'tiktok phenomenon' apparently lmao. Its about a girl called Cadence and two summers ago she was in an accident on her grandfathers ISLAND where her family spends the summer every year and now two years later she doesn't remember what even happened to her and everybody refuses to speak about it. Cadence spends the summer with her cousins and friend and she slowly starts remembering what happened that summer. I thought the twist was awesome and spine-chilling and I'm obsessed with the fact that the author made like, a family tree and a map for the island. I thought that was so cool bc samesies I do the same with my characters. Based on reviews for this book, it really is a hit or miss depending on the person. So many ppl hate this book bc of the twist and find the story stupid bc its about rich white ppl going through stuff but like 😔👉👈 I still like it....

Some more books I love are "Waiting for Normal" by Leslie Conner and "This One Summer" by Mariko and Jillian Tamaki (graphic novel) and "Flipped" by Wendelin Van Draanen all which also follow a similar theme in family stuff and include summer in some way. I also love graphic novels, 'this one summer' is definitely my fave one. Flipped is my best example of coming of age that I love and it has a film adaption I adore as well and has become a comfort movie.

Rn im reading Lost Gods by Brom, its pretty heavy and long and im just at the beginning so I don't know if I like it yet but I like the way the author writes so far.

So far we have like dysfunctional family, summer setting, trauma, and healing from the past as major things I enjoyed in these stories.😔

I dont have a goodreads or another book website I just put book links saved to my bookmarks and make lists in a binder about which books seem interesting. I was thinking of making an account but probably not on goodreads as I wanna move away from Amazon stuff but idk yet where. I used to have shelfari before it got discontinued/merged to goodreads back in middle school but I don't really remember if that's still active or not or what books I even had there. When I make an account I will let you know about it :D

So disclaimer again I do read and watch and play almost anything and I'm not always the best judge of stuff, sometimes I like things that are bad or poorly executed so idk if you'd end up enjoying the same things in the same way I do waaah😭.

[infinites-chaser]

2/5/21

NEON

1. Teenage bedroom (late night)

2. Lord

3. Planetarium

4. Basketball court

5. Malevolence

prompts by @nosebleedclub can be found here!

i. it’s cold and dark— the new moon and cloudy skies mean only the artificial glow of streetlights filters in, soft and subdued, through the hazy fabric of his curtains. 1:30, reads the clock. he closes his eyes. opens them when dreams won’t come.

it’s often that teenagers like him are lost, this time of night, it’s often that sleep can’t find him.

ii. he doesn’t believe in god, he never has, not since his father first laid his eyes on him, laid hands on his mother, took away his little brother. when he looks to the whorls of stars glued clumsy and hasty to his bedroom ceiling, when he closes his eyes at night, he does not pray to any lord. he worships her smile. 

iii. there’s a galaxy swirling in the depths of her clear gaze, constellations that could be drawn in the scattering of freckles across her cheeks that only darken come summer. she dimples. stars collide, stars reform. it’s astronomy planetariums and textbooks could never hope to teach, astronomy only poets and lovers know.

(he’s pulled into her orbit, the weight of his heart nothing against her gravity. her force. his heartbeat accelerates. but he doesn’t fall, he flies.)

iv. physics class blurs past him. most of his classes do. but when the teacher’s droning voice turns to talk of the stars above, the way the planets move, he listens. it makes sense, somehow, though little else in school does. he thinks of it often. of laws of motion. of forces and attraction.

an object in motion will stay in motion, the teacher says.

she moves him. his heart’s restless. it stays restless, no matter what he does.

he drums his fingers on his desk in time with his racing heart, doesn’t stop even when the bully in the seat in front twists around to glare. he ignores the boy, lets his eyes instead follow her across the classroom.

basketball helps, keeps his motion focused, lets it flow. he dribbles the ball. thinks about the ball’s bounce, its steady spring back up after every fall. thinks about how she says she liked the other team’s dunk, the way the last player had looked when he’d scored.

he jumps. he shoots. he scores. he makes sure it’s when she’s watching, he’s rewarded with her bright congratulations! and her grin, a small cosmic wonder.

it feels like flying. like defying gravity.

(when she faints during p.e. he’s by her side. she gives him a band-aid, after, cheeks flushed, dimples showing.

for every action there is an equal and opposite reaction, he thinks, and puts the bandage on with an answering smile.)

v. there’s his father’s anger, vicious swirling storm of violence that leaves him broken breathless beaten, curled into a corner wishing for gentle winds and the summer stars. his father’s anger and the cold winter that follows, eyes that look past him, that look through him, murmur you failure, you, that put icy fingers of frost deep into even the warmest corners of his heart. there’s the bullies who corner him atop the roof, knives in hand, telling him to jump, telling him his destiny was always to fall.

he survives the bullies. weathers his father. but when it’s her standing in front of him, his fist curled in a boy’s shirt, her starbright eyes dim with horror, it dawns on him. there are some falls that were always meant to happen. there are some orbits he can’t escape from (this one’s a hole opened up in the pit of his stomach, dark and wide, his snarl reflected in her eyes an inescapable force that pulls him apart, pulls him under). this is his event horizon.

PASTEL

1. Teenage bedroom (soft morning)

2. Dwarf rabbit

3. Seaside memory

4. Embrace

5. Peach juice

v. she likes the juice normally. it’s sweet and light and refreshing, a nectar of the gods, bottled in it is a hundred laughs and smiles, the taste of summers gone by. today, the drink sits heavy on her tongue, choking, cloying artificial sugar that makes her stomach turn.

what’s wrong, her friend asks. it tastes like missed opportunities, she thinks but does not say, it tastes like what-could-have-been turned sour, then sugared over again, far too sweet, it tastes like regret. it tastes like a bloodstained letter from a desperate boy left unopened, like a desperate boy left standing in an empty parking lot, his heart in his hands a star, waiting to fall.

she says, it’s nothing, smiles, and tries not to wince when she sips at her straw again. 

iv. they don’t ever hug in their teenage years. they could barely manage the brush of fingers without the hint of a blush. when they meet again, it’s different. gravity, attraction, all the laws of physics bend his path back to her.

he falls back into her orbit like breathing, an inhale, an exhale, and he’s weightless, he’s flying again.

she saves him. he saves her.

when she’s in his arms, he wonders if she sees stars in his eyes, wonders if she thinks there’s a gentle supernova within his every smile. little does he know, she’s wondering the same things, too.

for every action, he nearly remembers, slow and distant, a memory from light-years away, there is an equal and opposite reaction.

iii. once there was an ocean between him and her, waves of years-old misunderstandings come crashing down through time to separate them. tides rise. tides overflow. there is truth to be had on both sides, she thinks, in the flood of feelings that follows. there is a peace to be found when the tide goes out again, an understanding when they stand beside each other, hand-in-hand, back to the storm-swept past, looking to the starlit seashore of their future.

call it what you will. call it love.

ii. she curls against him, her head on his chest, hair fanned out in ripples of starless sky. they’re universe enough, two celestial things settled into comfortable orbit: some nights she circles him, some nights it’s her. his moon. her jupiter. he’s mapped an infinite number of constellations from her dimples down the small of her back and lower. she’s traced comets and meteors across the scars on his torso, discovered nebulas high on his cheekbones, made them burn bright red under her touch.

still, they turn their eyes skyward, to galaxies beyond. a world within their arms, a world without.he points out the constellations, draws out the shape of their mythological namesakes with one outstretched hand. over here, a legendary hunter, he says. there, a lyre.

here, a goddess, he says, and his eyes are on hers. she blushes. in the flush of her cheeks, he imagines new stars are born. (fusion, fission. love as something stronger than a nuclear reaction.)

tell me about the different types of stars, she says instead of a reply. he nods, pulls her closer, recites facts slow and soft he learned for her years ago: dwarfs, giants, all their different colors. she giggles at dwarf; she always does, asks if she’s a dwarf, a dwarf bunny. he laughs, pokes her nose, says, weren’t you listening, that’s not a kind of star—

his voice gentles to silence. she cranes her neck to look up at the stars in his bright eyes, the planets, the worlds.

maybe we’re binary stars, he says at last. you and i.

i. it’s warm and bright— rays of dawn drift light and dreamy through her open window painting long panes of her rumpled blankets the gold of the morning’s sunshine. he murmurs words, soft, loving, unintelligible, against the crown of her head. she smiles an i love you and a good morning into his chest, presses a kiss to his heart, and snuggles closer. his hand finds hers beneath shared sheets. their fingers tangle. they take their waking slow, their hearts beating as one, a secret language, a morse code of lovers, spelling out the words you are found. you are home. 

[hopelikethemoon]

The Truth (Javier x Reader) {MTMF}

Title: The Truth Rating: PG-13 Length: 3300 Warnings: Mild Angst. (Potential Triggers: mentions of period-typical homophobia and child abuse) Notes: You can find the Maybe Today, Maybe Forever Timeline here. Set in March 1997. Part three in the “big angst arc”. Both Javier and Reader’s POVs are reflected in this.  Summary: Monica tells her truth. 

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“You gonna talk or am I paying long distance to listen to you breathe, son?”

Javier sighed heavily, clicking his tongue against his teeth. “I don’t fucking know what to say, pops. It’s been a shit show and…”

“And?”

He raked his fingers through his hair, “And I feel like it’s all my fault.”

“How so?”

“How could it not be?” Javier questioned. “We should’ve stopped trying. She wanted to, but I… I wasn’t ready to give up hope. She didn’t want to disappoint me.”

“Who’s idea was it?”

“Who’s idea was what?”

Chucho chuckled, “To have another kid. Since you’re fretting about that.”

“I’m not fretting. She nearly died because of me.”

“Who suggested having another child?”

“She did.” Javier chewed on his bottom lip. “But she wanted to stop trying and I know… she kept trying because of me.” He sank back in the chair, keeping the phone pressed to his ear. “That’s not even half of it. All this bullshit stress is my doing too.”

“Yeah?”

Javier hesitated to tell his father about the stress factors in their lives. Despite how much he had changed over the years — he doubted his father would be as quick to believe him as she was. And he didn’t want to get into it. To explain everything that happened with the DEA. 

“There’s just been a lot going on and…” Javier sighed, rubbing at his eyes. “I never wanna see her like that again.” He shook his head slowly. “They had her hooked up to all these wires and monitors and… I fucking hated it, pops.” 

“Javier, how’s she doing now?” 

“She’s resting. Josie’s curled up with her in bed. I’m glad she didn’t have to see her mother like that.” Javier dragged a hand over his face. “I could’ve lost both of them. Her and the baby.” 

“But you didn’t.” 

“I still could.” Javier pressed. 

“Have you talked to her?”

“Today? No. She needs rest. I’m not stressing her out further about any of this bullshit.” Javier tucked the phone against his ear as he reached for the bottle of beer he’d been nursing, downing the rest of it with a quiet hiss. 

“You should go sleep, Javier.” 

“I’m good, pops.” Javier shrugged his shoulders. His plan was to crash on the sofa. She needed her rest and if he knew Josie — she’d taken over his side of the bed already. He didn’t want to wake either of them up. 

“Talk to her.” Chucho said firmly. “I’m not going to claim to know her as well as you do. I’ve spent all of a month with her over the past few years, but… she’s a good one. Whatever you’re going through, don’t let it fuck this up.” 

“Nothing’s going to fuck this up.” 

His father chuckled, “You don’t do well under pressure.”

“No.” He shook his head. “I’m not going anywhere. That’s not… It’s not like that.” Javier rubbed at the back of his neck, brows furrowed together. “I thought I could fix something. Something that I was partially complicit in.” 

“What did you do?”

“Nothing. Not really.” Javier clenched his fists. “Colombia still has her hooks in us. I should’ve cut the line, but…” 

“Javi?”

He tensed, glancing back over his shoulder to see her standing in the doorway. “Pops, I’ll call you tomorrow. I’ve gotta go.” 

“Love you son.” 

“Love you too.” Javier hung the phone up, staring at it for a moment as he raked his fingers through his hair and steadied himself. “You should be in bed.” He said softly as he looked back at her. 

“Josie snores like you.” She folded her arms across her chest, smiling at him. “I couldn’t sleep.” 

Javier moved towards her slowly, his heart hammering in his chest. “How long have you been out here?”

She chewed on her bottom lip, her eyes flickering over his face. “Long enough.” 

“I just needed to vent,” He explained, swallowing thickly. “Pops is worried about you.” 

“I’ll call him tomorrow.” She smiled a little sadly, resting her hand against her stomach. He hated seeing the ugly bruising on the top of her hand from where she’d had the IV. “Are we going to talk? Before you worry yourself into an early grave.”

Javier pressed his tongue to the inside of his cheek, looking away. “It’s been a long day. A long week.”

She moved towards him, placing her hands on his shoulders. “Look at me, Javi.” She whispered and he complied. “It’s not your fault.” She squeezed his shoulders three times, before she trailed her fingers up his neck and cupped his cheeks. “None of it is and I refuse to let you beat yourself up over it. Okay?”

“Baby—”

“Okay?”

“Yeah.” He sighed heavily. “Fine.”

“I appreciate your willingness to take up my problems, but… it’s not your cross to bear.” She smiled up at him, rubbing her thumbs over his cheekbones. “And I know what you’re thinking… we should back off the DEA article, remove one area of stress—“

“It was them.” Javier admitted. “Monica said someone from the DEA offered to pay her a pretty sizeable chunk of money to start the rumor.”

“Sons of bastards.” She swore, laughing humorlessly. “Well, fuck them. I’m not backing off this.”

Javier clicked his tongue against his teeth, shaking his head. “You are something else baby.”

“I’m not going to let them win. Do I look like someone who is going to slink back into the shadows and let them win?”

“You need to relax.” Javier curled his arm around her waist and drew her into his chest. “But you have to let me carry some of this weight. Let me handle Monica. We’ll resolve this whole rumor bullshit.”

She clung to him, curling a hand around the back of his neck as she pressed her face against his chest. She pulled back a little, looking up at him. “We’re doing this together.” 

Javier sighed heavily, giving her hip a squeeze. “I don’t want to see you in the hospital again. Not like that.” He shook his head. “I can’t do it.” 

She rose up on her toes and kissed him gently. “I’ll take it easy, Javi. I really don’t want to end up in the hospital again either.” She chewed on her bottom lip. “But I’m not going to lay in bed until I give birth. I will lose my fucking mind.” 

He nodded his head slowly, understandingly. “I’ve never known you to be able to keep still for very long.” 

“Case in point.” She gestured to them and laughed. “A normal person would probably be in bed right now.” She made a face.

Javier pulled her towards him and pressed a kiss to the top of her head, before he swept her off her feet, cradling her in his arms. “If Josie’s taken over our bed, I guess we’ll just have to move to the sofa.” He remarked as he carried her out of the kitchen and into the family room. 

He settled back onto the sofa and she rearranged herself more comfortably in his lap. She rested her face against his shoulder, brushing her nose against his neck. “Don’t be angry with her.”

“Who?”

“Monica.” She pressed a kiss to the underside of his jaw, before pulling back. “She’s just a kid and…” She chewed on the inside of her bottom lip, shaking her head slowly. “I wanna hear her side of the story.” 

Javier gave her hip a gentle pat, before he slid his hand over her leg reassuringly. “What do you wanna do, then?”

“Let’s invite her over.” She said with a small smile. “That way it’s low stress for me… and we can figure out what’s going on.” She reached out and played with the hair that fell against his forehead. “And how we’re going to stop it. I’m not… I’m not ready to let go of this thing with the DEA. If they think they can play dirty, well…”

“You are an unstoppable force.” He grinned at her. “But you have to take care of you first, baby. I should’ve never started this whole mess while you were pregnant.”

“When did you submit the FOIA requests?”

“Before.” His shoulders sagged. “But I should’ve realized they’d retaliate.”

She shook her head. “No blaming yourself.” she leaned forward and rested her forehead against his. “We’re going to get through this.”

 ——

 “Is this the part where you guys kill me?” Monica questioned, rocking nervously from the balls of her feet to her heels as she looked between them. 

You shook your head slowly. “We really just want answers, Monica. The claims you made—“

“They were just rumors! I told a few people and just let it get around. I didn’t…” Monica raked her fingers through her hair. “I didn’t mean for all of this to happen.”

“But it did happen.” Javier said sharply as he steepled his fingers and he leaned his elbows against the table. “If you have plans to work in law enforcement, you should realize this. The choices you make — even ones that seem minor — cause reactions.” He shook his head. “But you took a bribe.”

“Ten thousand dollars. Really?” You questioned, lips drawn into a thin line. “That’s all it took to turn against us?”

“You have no idea how much I needed the money.” Monica whispered, staring at the table. “I don’t know how they knew.” She dragged her fingers through her hair and pressed her hands against her forehead. 

“What did they know?” You looked towards Javier, brows furrowed. “Is there more to this story, Monica?”

She sniffled quietly, before looking up at you, tears in her eyes. “I’m in a really bad situation right now.” Her eyes flickered briefly towards Javier, but his unreadable expression turned her gaze back to you. “And I don’t say this for sympathy. I don’t deserve any sympathy right now, but…” 

You reached across the table and took her hand, squeezing it gently. “You’re a good kid, Monica. If you’re in trouble, you can tell us.” You kicked Javier under the table, encouraging him to say something as well. 

Javier cleared his throat, rocking his jaw slowly as he stared at her. “I know something’s been going on… the missed classes, the late work… What is it?”

Monica rubbed the sleeve of her sweatshirt under her nose, before wiping away a stray tear. “At the end of last semester, my parents cut financial ties with me.” She admitted. “I… wasn’t in a good situation with them, but…” She shook her head slowly and looked away. “It’s complicated.” 

“Is that why you needed the money?”

“The irony of the rumor.” Monica started, her voice wavering. “I’m just going to say this… I’m just…” She nervously rubbed at her lips before she sank back in her seat, somehow managing to make herself seem smaller. “I’m gay.”

“Is that why your parents kicked you out?” You questioned, your heart aching for this poor kid. You couldn’t even imagine that situation. 

“Oh, Monica…” Javier said quietly, shaking his head. 

Monica nodded her head slowly. “I told them over the holidays and…” She wrung her hands. “It had been years since they hurt me. But I couldn’t keep living a lie.” She wiped at her eyes again, looking at you then. “I’m so sorry.” 

“Don’t apologize.” Javier said quickly. “I should’ve realized something was going on with you. You’ve been off all semester.” He dragged his fingers through his hair and exhaled heavily. “Are you in a safe place now?”

She shook her head. “I’m in a hostel right now. I’m trying to find somewhere to live. The money… I’ll give it back.” 

You shook your head. “No. You’re not giving the money back.You did what they told you to do. That money’s yours.” You looked towards Javier then, trying to read his pensive expression. “What is it?”

“I’m trying to think how to help her.” He gestured towards Monica. “Look, first thing Monday morning we’re talking to the dean. We’ll get the rumor brushed aside and explain it’s the fucking DEA playing games.” Javier looked at you then, brows furrowed. “You think Connie might know someone?”

You shrugged, “Yeah. I mean... Connie knows everyone.” You looked towards Monica then, a small smile playing over your lips. “We’ll help you.”

“Why?”

Javier rubbed at the back of his neck, stretching his back as he readjusted in his seat. “Because we’re good people, Monica. And you’ve gotten caught up in our shit.” 

Monica looked between the two of you, her bottom lip trembling before a flood of tears overwhelmed her. She sobbed into her hands, making absolutely no coherent sense with her words. 

“Go get her some tissues,” You told Javier as you got up from your seat and moved around the table to pull a chair up close to her. “Monica, look… I know this situation really sucks, but you’re going to get through it okay?”

“I shouldn’t have taken the money.” 

“No. You shouldn’t have.” You weren’t going to sugar coat it. “But people make mistakes. Especially when they’re going through things.” You looked up at Javier as he held out the box of tissues. “Here.” You passed her the box.

Javier rested his hand on your shoulder, squeezing it gently and you reached up to squeeze it. “Monica you’re a smart kid. I’ve read your papers, you know your shit. But you can’t… taking money from the DEA…” You shook your head. 

She wiped at her nose, looking up at you. Her shoulders shook as she tried to control another sob of emotion. “I regretted it the second I did it. The moment I opened my mouth and started the rumor…” She looked towards Javier then. “You’ve been so good to me Professor Peña. Both of you. I just needed the money so I can have somewhere to live… somewhere safe from my parents.” She wiped at her eyes furiously. “I wanted… I wanted to help kids like me, but I… I’m going to lose everything.”

You shook your head, “No. No. Monica. You’re not.” You reached out and stroked the back of her shoulders gently. “I’m not a bitch, contrary to whatever Javier might say.”

“He’s never said that.” Monica said quickly with a short laugh.

You smiled a little, glad that it made her laugh. “Your internship isn’t going anywhere, kid.”

“Really?”

“But you are going to have to help me.” You told her, arching a brow. “This shit with the DEA just proves they need to have a come to Jesus meeting.” You looked back at Javier then, your heart fluttering a little at the look in his eyes as he stared at you. “I’m not stopping.” Your gaze fell back on Monica. “I can’t do a lot right now, but you can.”

“How?”

“I need someone to help do some research for this article.” Your head canted to the side. “Think you can do that for me?”

“I’ll do anything.” Monica sniffed. 

Javier leaned down and pressed a kiss to the top of your head, before he moved back around the table to sit down. “Monday morning we go to the dean’s office. We clear this up.” He looked to you then.

“How much do you make at your jobs?”

“Like five and a half dollars an hour.” Monica answered, her brows furrowing together. 

“Josie can be a handful and I’m probably going to need help. We usually pay the sitter eight an hour.” You looked towards Javier, smiling when he nodded his head in agreement with your plan. “I could use the help.” 

“Are you serious?”

“Yep.” Javier said with a shrug. “And I’ll see what Connie can do about finding you a safe place to live. I’d offer you a room here, but… We already have it set up for the baby.” 

Monica shook her head, “No. I wouldn’t want to impose. I have enough saved for like three hundred and fifty a month…”

“We’ll figure it out.” Javier said with an understanding nod. “Now, you mentioned your parents… hurting you?” He leaned against the table, staring at her. “Are you in danger?”

She shook her head. “I’m not. I didn’t… they don’t know where I am.” Monica hugged her arms around herself. “They know where I go to school, but they don’t… They wouldn’t come here.” 

You rubbed her back reassuringly. “If you need anything.” 

You couldn’t wrap your head around how someone could hurt their child. You knew it happened. You had seen the results of it, but… it just made you think of Josie. The thought of making that little girl even cry by saying ‘no’ made your heart ache. “You’re going to be okay, Monica.” 

“Thank you.” She wiped at her eyes with the sleeves of her hoodie again. 

“Do you want to stay for dinner?”

Monica shook her head, “I have work tonight.”

“Any time.” You told her, offering her a kind smile. 

“How are you doing?” Monica asked, sniffling a little. 

You shrugged, rubbing at your stomach. “I’m pregnant, I have high blood pressure, and my partner would be happy to see me never leave bed.” You looked towards Javier with a grin. “And not even in the fun way.” 

Monica laughed, looking between the two of you. “I wish my parents had been like you guys. Your daughters are lucky.”

“It’s not always sunshine and puppy dogs.” You rolled your eyes. “Speaking of puppy dogs…” You shot Javier a look. “I’m dropping hints.” 

“I think I’m going to go…” Monica said quietly. “I need to decompress before work.” 

“I know the feeling.” You squeezed her arm, before you got up from your seat. “If you need anything you have my number.”

“Thank you. Thank you both.” Monica stepped towards you and hugged you tightly. You wrapped your arms around her and held her. “I’m proud of you, kid.” 

Monica’s smile was thanks enough. 

You headed down the hallway to Josie’s room, while Javier walked Monica out. 

Josie was sound asleep, clutching at her stuffed animal. Her curly hair peeking out from above the edge of her blanket. She loved burrowing under the blankets. You just couldn’t understand it… how could someone hurt their own flesh and blood.

Javier wrapped his arms around you as he came up behind you. “That was… an interesting conversation.” He remarked, kissing your neck. “That poor kid.”

“I knew there had to be more to her story.” You chewed on your bottom lip. “She knew a lot about the emergency room. It seemed like a nervous habit, the way she told me about every little thing in the room.”

“You’re too damn observant.” 

You laughed and leaned back against him. “I am good at what I do, Javi.” You tensed a little, rubbing at your stomach. “Your daughter has an incredibly strong kick.”

Javier rested his hand over your stomach just below where your hand was, “Where?”

You curled your hand around the back of his, sliding it up to where the baby was kicking. It was a faint flutter at first, but then a swift movement followed. 

“Damn.” Javier whispered, keeping his hand pressed there. Hoping to feel it again. “You know… I never fucking expected someone to sit in front of me and say they wished I was their parent.” 

You tilted your head to look at him at him with a grin. “I think we just gained a third daughter.” 

“Oh, did we?” He snorted. “I didn’t sign any papers.” 

“It was a silent thing.” You teased, reaching back to stroke his cheek. “She needs a support system.”

“Steve and Connie like adopting.” 

“Javi.” 

“She’s also nineteen.” 

“Minor detail.” You laughed softly, pulling Josie’s room closed. “What do you think they’ll do next?”

“The DEA?” He questioned and you nodded. “Fuck if I know, but… we’re taking them down.” 

A chill ran down your spine. “It’s not going to be easy.”

“Nothing good ever is.” Javier reminded you. 

[pwnyta]

OK GONNA GRIPE!! Everyone in the world (like 5-6 people) said im allowed to and encouraged me but honestly most of my gripes are Bakugo as a character so I’ll try a little fix it... it will be under the cut.

BUT GRIPES-

The Sports Festival. I loved it... I thought it was great with some exceptions-

Bakugo v Uraraka is the most obvious example of Horikoshi bending characters to make Bakugo seem better than he is. Literally the whole festival no one says shit about the female contestants, its not a plot point, no ones bothered when Tokoyami vs Momo happens but Bakugo fights Uraraka and the whole ass stadium starts running their mouths about Bakugo being kind of an asshole and being mean to Uraraka cuz shes a soft girl even though shes holding her own and Momo panicked and lost in a sad way.

Bakugo attacked Shouto after knocking him out but he doesnt get disqualified. Even if Horikoshi wanted to set up the LoV targeting him he coulda just had them see the footage of Bakugo attacking Todo and his reaction to disqualification and figuring that hed be more willing to turn coat.

The relationships with Endeavor with Shoto and All Might is one of those things that seems like its going to be a set up for something... But never goes anywhere. All Might hadnt spoke to Endeavor for years before that moment when he asks Endeavor for advice on how to train kids because he was impressed with Shoutos performance but Endeavors like ‘I’ll turn him into someone who can surpass you thats why I MADE HIM‘ and All Mights like ‘wtf? wat‘ but it goes no where...

//end Sports festival kinda...

I have so many issues with how Horikoshi built Shouto as a character to be like on the same level as Deku and Bakugo but hes not apart of that group. Their connection as kids is All Might... Shouto should have learned about one for all and the three of them should grow together more.

IDKY Shouto has this past where All Might is his hero, hes one of the big three, but hes excluded.

All im saying is Shouto (and honestly Bakugo) could have used a lot more screen time.

----

During the training camp arc Tokoyami loses control of his Quirk and almost kills a handful of his classmates and is also grabbed by the LoV with Bakugo... and it NEVER COMES UP AGAIN.

Of course the traitor plot line thats ignored for a million years only to be brought up again just to say it never actually mattered... is another one of those ‘This was a good set up for something and you did nothing with it...‘ situation. I still think Kouda is possible. Theres no reason the Principal is an animal... theres no reason why Kouda could be able to pass the entrance exam where Shinso couldnt they basically have the same Quirk. Kouda is quiet and unassuming and he can communicate very easily in secret and could theoretically control Nezu and make him say shit like ‘Theres no war in Ba Sing Se‘ and everyone would just accept it.... But like its been so long why even bother... itd be weird.

Honestly Shinsos whole... thing is also weird. But he was brought back for... like no real pay off. His tragic story doesnt even make sense... people mocking him for having a ‘villains’ Quirk... this is similar to the Bakugo/Uraraka thing. Because thats not a thing... we dont see that literally anywhere else. I mean Shouji mentions that people think his face is a little scary but thats it. There are pros with scary Quirks and even scarier looks, Tokoyami has a literal sentient DARKNESS living in him and a bird face.... but Shinso has problems? Really.

The same can be said about the CRC. Theres a whole hate group youve created to bring up to make Spinner a little more sympathetic but its never been mentioned before or since even though there are characters in the main crew with animal/creature characteristics. Again Tokoyami is right there.

Kirishima is a weird character to have made as prominent as he is because hes got literally no connection to the main story. Shouto shoulda had his screentime. I love Kirishima and his little story with Fatgum and fighting that big bitch was fucking bitchin... but like? Why Kirishima... also whats with Crimson Riot? What does he or Kirishima have to do with anything.

Shouto has the connections. It shoulda been Shouto.

How the fuck did Hawks get away with tricking the LoV with a fake body of Best Jeanist? Why not just have Hawks kill him... it makes more sense and it helps build a case for the corrupt hero society(or at least the higher ups) a little if theyre willing to kill one of their own. I like Best Jeanist but its fucking weird.

And Ive already bitched enough about the corruption of hero society and the lack of evidence story-wise...

I genuinely thought something would go down with Tensei because him being attacked made no sense even though Stain is shown to be very consistent in his belief to the point of endangering himself as shown when he literally went out of his way to save Deku. So why the fuck did he attack Tensei when everything weve seen of the guy is just a good, considerate, selfless hero.

He could have also been used to set up the corruption BUT NOTHING COMES OF IT.

And I mean like some of this stuff could come up later... but its been drawn out so long its weird... a lot of this shit would likely have a continuous direct effect on the story at large if Horikoshi just didnt... ignore it.

NOW BAKUGO. But because everyone knows I hate him Im gonna put my money where my mouth is and try to make him a little better... Cuz hes fucking garbage.

OK First up... Keep him exactly how he is until this moment exactly-

This is the worst moment for me with Bakugo because I thought he looked like that because he was shocked at himself for doing something so fucked up.

Cuz he does want to be a hero and he looks up to All Might.

So after this moment he dials it back a little on the douchebaggery.... hes sorta more distant and still kind of a jerk but but hes more avoiding Deku/conflict until we get to the Sports Festival!

He cant help himself hes competitive and aggressive and the steeper the competition gets the more he falls back into being that hyper aggressive violent person he wants to not be.

The Sports Festival goes as expected and its not until after and he sees himself that he gets uncomfortable again and tries to mellow out again.

Then the practical exam happens and hes paired with Deku but instead of being needlessly antagonistic they actually DO work together... they can bicker and have different ideas of how to win but then get desperate by the end and actually work together cuz THIS-

WAS SO SHITTY. It didnt need to happen. Also earlier when Bakugo is being an asshole in class Aizawa fully acknowledges Bakugo going down a dark path... and does like nothing about it... (You cant really blame him... Baku gets away with everything.)

ANYWAYS. So they reluctantly work together and work well together... Bakugo still feels kinda shitty and annoyed that Deku is at his level..

-

When Bakugo gets snatched by the LoV I think could REALLY be the biggest turning point...

Instead of Bakugo just continuing on like he does maybe this would be a great moment for him to realize that dark path hes been on. The Villains speak to him and theyre like ‘youd be a great villain‘ and its like that scene in Dr Who when Nine flips out and screams at the last Dalek tells it to go and die... and the Dalek goes ‘Youd make a good Dalek‘ which just gut punches him.

Its like that Bakugo thinks about the shits hes been doing after the villains think they can convince him to join them, he thinks about All Might and his life long dream to be a hero and hes disturbed that he COULD be a villain.

They take off the cuffs... he attacks them as per usual but its not with that cocky attitude.

///Bakugo gets saved

He thanks Kirishima... and thanks the others. It can be a cute moment GDI!

The fight between Bakugo and Deku could be Bakugo asking Deku to spar. Thats what he wants. He wants to test the both of them and Deku agrees so when Aizawa gets pissed at them both ITS DESERVED instead of Aizawa punishing Deku for defending himself.

And that can still be the moment Bakugo has his little breakdown and blaming himself for All Mights retirement.

And then just go from there... Bakugos character development coulda been smooth

[prompt-master]

Would you be willing to share how you might rewrite Yukizome, Sakakura, and Munakata to make them likable characters (if not ppl Bc there’s a big difference)???

ahhhhhhh this ask got me so stupidly excited that I was like wavin my hands around. I think about how to rewrite their characters OFTEN. very often. I’m gonna go with likeable character over likeable people because I think they work better where they’re actually not that likeable people. 

The one I think about the MOST is Munakata. He was SUCH wasted potential and I partially blame the medium for that (a single season anime is too constrained for future, it needed more time and care to be a proper story). But Munakata is actually so close to being a compelling character but they made some MAJOR mistakes with him. This ended up getting really long and more like a 3 page ADHD ramble essay. SO IM VERY SORRY to anyone who cannot read this but TYTYTY if you did because these ideas make me very happy! Oh it’s only about Munakata btw because of how long it got

The thing about Munakata is that he is designed to be a foil to Naegi. In fact a majority of dr3 future FOCUSES on this foil dynamic. It is Naegi’s hope vs Munakata’s hope. The World’s hope vs The FF’s hope. And more importantly it is True Hope vs Corrupted Hope.

This is a fantastic concept...so why didn’t it work in canon? I think that the biggest most glaring issue with Munakata’s hope is his logic. Munakata is meant to be a logical man, although with corrupted morals that lead him astray. Yet in canon his logic is laughably infallible. For example as a major figure in the FF and someone who wants to spread hope....why would he tell Naegi to kill himself? More importantly why does he continue to try and slaughter Naegi? The issue here isn’t from the fact that he wants him dead but from the fact that he is under the IMPRESSION that this entire game is being broadcast to the world.

Think about this for a second. In Munakata’s eyes he is going to kill the Ultimate Hope, an international symbol of a better life, live on TV. He doesn’t just want to kill the Ultimate Hope..he wants to do it BRUTALLY as a MAJOR FIGURE OF THE FF. IMO this should have happened later on as the game furthers the emotional turmoil in Munakata’s head and he eventually snaps and gives in to the desire to kill Naegi despite the fact that this is live. And then there should be CONSEQUENCES for that. I wanted so badly a realization where Munakata realizes that he is hurting the Ultimate Hope in front of what he believes is the entire world. 

Another issue with Munakata’s logic is saying things such as...implying that the HPA KG was...just a game. I mean...people DIED. it's not hard to see how wrong that logic is. you can't say “this is the real world now” when what Naegi experienced WAS the real world. I think that this could be fixed through a bit of world building. DR3 Future is rather isolated from its world. We don’t really know much about the world and its dynamics. I think it would make perfect sense if the general public viewed the HPA KG as a tv show, they got numb to the sight and even those untouched by despair had a hard time connecting that these are REAL people suffering. With this previously established Munakata expressing that the KG was not real would make a lot more sense and play into his corrupted idea of hope. 

There is also Munakata’s connection to his other friends. Now I’ve talked about this before but the game was clearly designed to BREAK Munakata and Naegi. This way the FF would die, both the FF and World’s hope would be broken, and upon seeing this Mitarai would have no choice but to deploy his own forced hope. So it makes perfect sense that Yukizome’s death would break him (in fact if she hadn’t died in that way, her NG code was designed to be Munakata’s fault). But something about it felt...superficial. Again I think this is the mediums fault but it almost feels as though Munakata just forgets about Yukizome until later. I think they should spend more time establishing his pain and what he has lost and why this pushes him to kill. In his eyes if she can die then nothing else matters. It should be THE breaking point, not the first push. I do like the betrayal he feels towards realizing she had despair but it needed more time to fester. 

And his relationship with Sakakura also felt weak. In all honesty it was hard for me to feel as though they were ever friends. Sakakura is written as though he just follows Munakata like a loyal dog and Munakata just orders him around. Establish their relationship more! Why are they such good friends? Why is Sakakura important to him? And more importantly why did Munakata decide to cruelly gut Sakakura knowing he was about to confess? This is because he believed that Sakaura was despair and that his confession was more manipulation, but they didn’t show this well at ALL. Munakata just comes across as a major a-sshole who does not care. I also personally found it distasteful that when changing his heart Munakata only seemed to cry for Yukizome. I understand that was his love interest but Yukizome at the end of the day killed herself. Sakakura however was an unnecessary betrayal he took into his own hands AS HE HIMSELF KILLED HIM. He should have more guilt over that! Not just in that moment where he runs to Sakakura, but ahead of time as well! Maybe even DURING his rampage they could have shown him having moments of guilt but he is so absorbed in the idea that all despairs have to die that he doesn’t even realize he has become despair in the name of hope.

A BIG weakness on Munakata’s part comes with interacting with other characters. He is a man who should know how to take charge, lead, and doesn't know what to do when things are getting too crazy even though he THINKS he does. Munakata is heavily flawed, OBVIOUSLY flawed, but many of the interactions with him are as tho his rampage isnt a big deal. There should be reasons for this! Why do people trust Munakatas guidance so much? I dont know! All ive seen from him is that hes insane! Maybe even pieces where around others hes a lot nicer so you can understand why they follow him, even though hes ready to gut Naegi alive with a flaming katana. His interactions with others feel like the writers just wanted to see the next big evil thing they could think of, but for Munakata’s character this doesn't make sense because he was appointed a high status in the foundation for a reason. Maybe even have people say they disagree with some of his methods but at the end of the day he gets the job done!

There is another major missed opportunity here and it's why Muanakata wants Naegi dead so badly in the first place. The remnants. Hiding terrorists in the apocalypse is a PERFECTLY valid reason to want someone dead and think they're a bad guy! But I think since Naegis initial arrest was already so hostile and violent we get the sense that the FF is simply just...crazy. 

And let’s think about what Munakata WANTS from Naegi. He does not just want Naegi dead he wants something worse. He wants Naegi to suffer first. He thinks that Naegi doesnt understand his own personal pain. He thinks that because Naegi protected the remnants he must also not care about the suffering the remnants caused. He wants Naegi to feel despair and then die. This is important to his corrupted hope. He thinks the suffering must be shared in order to understand who must die, but he is creating a cycle of pain. Tie this back to the broadcasting issue. He wants Naegi to break for everyone to see. I think..and this is just a concept..I think it would have been a great idea for Munkata to force Naegi to watch the despair video so that he has no choice but to understand. 

AND themes are majorly important to Danganronpa. And I don’t think its a stretch to say that there are parallels between Munakata and Naegi. In fact I would say that there are aspects of the og trio in this new trio. I think it would have been really cool if they showed how our favorite trio could have ended up if they had been corrupted as well. But the parrellels dont stick strongly. I think it would have been cool to show a past where Munakata’s idealism lies more strongly than Naegis. As the student council president there was a time where he himself had to use his words to solve problems. Perhaps he learned that sometimes his words made things worse. Munakata does not have Naegi’s talent of emotional intelligence. He is a man of action over words. So he interprets this as WORDS being the problem rather than understanding he does not have these skills. Especially when the apocalypse breaks out, it becomes all action over words. So he sees Naegi who is all talk as a genuine threat who will let everyone die through his “weak ineffective” idea of hope. 

Another parallel could be drawn from the fact that they both have hope based careers. Their job is too keep things hopeful. Maybe Naegi stays safe doing public broadcasted speeches, while Munakata is on the field weeding out despairs. This would cause Munakata to feel as though Naegi is doing no real work yet getting all the credit for being a savior.

Munakata constantly complains that Naegi does not know true pain. But he and we as an audience have followed Naegi through his entire process of trauma. We know he is in the wrong. But what do we as an audience know about Munakata’s suffering? We are shown almost nothing! There are some implications, but for how intense he is implications are not enough. We need to see his suffering. We should see how he has witnessed death. Yukizomes death is not nearly enough for this because he talks as though he has suffered for years. How can we as an audience understand that when we have never seen it? How can we understand Munakata when he is outright denying Naegi’s trauma that we KNOW existed with no proper justification for his reasoning?

I also believe that Munakata should have died. It actually upsets me a bit that he was PLANNED to die but didn't. He should have died protecting Naegi after all that suffering and relentless brutality he offered him. Munakata again is a man of action over word, and protecting Naegi with his last breath is the perfect way to show how in the end he changed. Especially when all he wanted initially was for Naegi to die. I find that much more satisfying than just…...walking off to who knows where.

So lets recap some changes. Munakata needs a proper display of his past traumas and his relationship with Sakakura and Yukizome. Munakata needs a proper display of his work relationships and the respect he has earned. Munakata needs to fall into corruption at a better pace, and have geniune reasons for his illogical attacks on Naegi. Munakata needs to care more for his friends. Munakata needs to deal with the turmoil of wanting to hurt Naegi while he believes the world is watching. Munakata needs to die for Naegi

This has gotten long...and I still have things to say. There is so much to make Munakata a good character. Future had a lot of potential and is amazing for a rewrite concept. As for Sakakura and Yukizome since this has gotten long feel free to ask for another round of this individually when asks are open again! If you read all of this somehow….TYSM

[atinytokki]

Across the Night

iv. The Monarch Embarks 

Kon was every bit the bustling harbour town Seonghwa imagined it to be.

Mr. Hwang was dragging his trunk up the dock for him as he glanced around, doe-eyed, at all the sights of the town.

“Dread Pirate Eden still roaming free!” A young man suddenly appeared, yelling at the top of his lungs with no qualms about personal space. “Navy increases reward incentive!”

He waved a news bulletin in Seonghwa’s face, but backed off when he stumbled away, hurrying after Mr. Hwang and inquiring about the headline.

“You haven’t heard of Eden?” The man snorted, handing off some barrels to the sailors who were loading the boat. “He’s only the most infamous pirate still in business.”

Hwang motioned to the many posters with a crudely drawn illustration plastered all over the walls of buildings in every corner of the city. The man pictured looked unassuming for a pirate, but angry red script demanding his capture warned otherwise, and Seonghwa shivered before passing off his bag.

It seemed that even pirates were unlike his childhood fantasy tales made them out to be.

Just as he made ready to board the Monarch, the beautifully careened vessel he’d be living on for their supply delivery, a familiar voice broke through the noise of the harbour and stopped him in his tracks.

“Seonghwa! Wait!”

It sounded like a female voice.

Eyes widening, Seonghwa turned and ran back down the gangplank to meet the approaching woman in a hug.

It was Chaeyoung.

“How did you get here?” He laughed, impressed that she had come all the way down the river just to see him off.

“I told the driver to hurry, because my best friend is not allowed to leave without saying goodbye,” she shot back, punching him lightly in the shoulder and laughing when he pouted and rubbed the spot.

It still hurt, and more than it did when they played around as children.

“Chaeyoung, I don’t know what I’ll do without you,” Seonghwa confessed, sobering as he could sense the time of departure was nearing.

Nodding, she bit her lip and lowered her head, eyes coming to rest on the whistle around her neck.

“You know my father spends many days at sea,” she reminded him before pulling off the necklace and holding it up for him to see. “This is a boatswain’s whistle he gave me as a present. Except I’d like to give it to you... as a goodbye.”

Seonghwa’s eyes filled with tears instantly. “Chaeyoung, I can’t take this—”

“I insist!” She cut him off, placing the whistle in his palm and folding his hands over it. “You’ll get more use out of it than I will.”

“I want to see you again,” Seonghwa told her thickly, struggling through the newly formed ball in his throat.

“I hope one day you will,” Chaeyoung smiled at him sweetly, her face like the light of the moon. “But I think you’ve got a lot of exploring to do first. I’ve found my calling, and so has Donghyun. Now it’s your turn.”

Out of words to say, Seonghwa pulled her into a tight hug, grinning slightly at the fact that he finally had a few inches on her, and put the necklace on with finality.

“Say goodbye to Chan for me,” he sighed as they parted, Chaeyoung lifting her skirts to step into the carriage. “Safe travels!”

“Safe travels to you as well!” She called back, waving through the window and growing smaller as the driver urged the horses up the hill and back towards Doljeon.

Seonghwa wondered if he’d ever see her again.

“All aboard the Monarch! Weighing anchor in five minutes!”

Jolted out of his reverie, Seonghwa hurried up the gangplank and looked around the ship for Mr. Hwang.

Not seeing him anywhere on the main level, Seonghwa was about to climb the stairs to the quarterdeck and ask the man at the wheel, presumably the captain, when a hand clamped down on his shoulder and spun him around.

“Any man who is not an officer may only stand on the quarterdeck when summoned,” the intimidating sailor told him gruffly, and stuttering apologetically, Seonghwa backed away.

Just when he thought he was safe and had avoided any more embarrassment, his backwards step caused his foot to get caught in a loop of rope and bring him crashing down.

The sailors who watched him stumble all over their rigging merely snickered as he tried to untangle himself hurriedly.

“Need a hand?” Mr. Hwang finally appeared and helped the poor boy up, brushing him off and escorting him belowdecks.

“We’ll be underway any minute now,” he explained as he helped Seonghwa secure his hammock. “I’m sure you aren’t used to sharing your space, but the Monarch is made to carry cargo, not people, and all the lower ranks bunk together. My hammock will be over here if you need me.”

Seonghwa followed the man’s gesture with his eyes and nodded in acknowledgement before setting his personal bag on his hammock. There were a few odds and ends he’d brought from home to make the space feel familiar, since Mother had warned him there wouldn’t be much more than a ratty blanket on offer. The faceless pirate he’d saved from his childhood toys peeked back at him.

“This is your first time on a ship, isn’t it?” Hwang observed knowingly from the doorway.

Seonghwa sighed and affirmed it. As much as he’d dreamed about the sea during his lazy afternoons, he’d never actually laid eyes on it. And whether that would become a problem or not was unclear as of yet.

“Well, you’ll probably want to see the action then,” the older man concluded, beckoning Seonghwa back onto the main deck with him where they stood out of the way and watched the sailors make ready to leave port.

“Man the capstan!” The man from before on the quarterdeck was yelling. “Hands aloft to loose the mainsails!”

The rest of the men seemed to know what those commands meant and snapped to, some of them bringing up the anchor by the strength of their backs, and others climbing the rigging with agile ease and unfurling sails to catch the wind.

The Monarch began to move, and Seonghwa looked out over the railing as Kon began to grow smaller. It was entrancing, unlike the slow meandering carriage that had brought him there, how quickly the wind caught the sails and bore them away, like the three hundred pound sloop was weightless.

“Boom about!”

The loud yell startled Seonghwa, and he turned around just in time to see the beam underneath the mainsail swinging at full speed in his direction.

Mr. Hwang’s hand on his arm tightened and yanked him out of way, both of them continuing to duck while Seonghwa willed his heart rate to return to normal.

“Keep your eye on that thing, it can sweep you right overboard,” Hwang cautioned. “In fact, I think you’d better stay close to me, today and for your entire apprenticeship. You’ll need to learn not just the art of the cooper, but how to survive at sea. I’ll reckon it’s like nothing you’ve ever experienced before.”

Seonghwa swallowed nervously and nodded again, rubbing his head where the boom had almost smacked him, and hesitantly got to his feet.

A few sailors who had witnessed the whole thing were chuckling at him and his face went cherry red.

Thinking to hide away downstairs and escape yet again, Seonghwa turned back towards the hatch that led belowdecks, only to have Hwang take him by the arm again and drag him over to the stairs to the quarterdeck.

“Permission to speak with the captain?” The cooper requested formally and the burly man guarding the staircase allowed the two of them to pass.

“Good morning, Captain Bae,” Mr. Hwang greeted, nudging Seonghwa forward to be introduced. “I thought you’d like to meet the newest member of our crew, my apprentice and our cook.”

“You say you found someone to cook for us?” The captain hummed without looking up from where he studied some maps.

“Yessir,” Mr. Hwang repeated a little bit louder. “Here he is, Park Seonghwa.”

Finally the man glanced up at the pair through his wiry spectacles and reached out a hand politely.

Seonghwa shook it carefully, minding the captain’s ink stained sleeve cuffs, and peeked down at the chart he appeared to be marking.

“Well that is good news,” Captain Bae chuckled as he returned to his work. “I’m sure Hwang here told you, but old man Tak Moon has been doing the cooking the past couple of years after the previous chef was shot full of lead by pirates in the Somhae pass. You’ll want to get to know him.”

Seonghwa opened his mouth and closed it again as the words hit him full force. “After he was— pardon me, after what?”

Captain Bae laughed and slapped him on the back, inevitably leaving behind an ink trace while Seonghwa squirmed. “Nothing to be afraid of. The Navy cleared the archipelago of nearly all pirates infesting our trade routes. At any rate, they’re on the decline and we have full cargo and smooth sailing ahead of us. Say, Namgoong, did our textiles client happen to send a message along with his shipment last night?”

With the captain once again distracted and conversing with the man who guarded the quarterdeck, Seonghwa took that as his opportunity to nudge Mr. Hwang back down to the main deck to follow their orders and find this old man Tak.

The way the deck rolled underneath them was making Seonghwa dizzy, but he stiffened and struggled through back to the hatch where Hwang led him to the galley.

Pausing with his hand just above the doorknob, he turned back and flashed a halfhearted smile. “Don’t let him startle you, he likes picking on greenies.”

Seonghwa had no time to question what that meant before the door was swung open and he was greeted with a very sharp smell.

A bearded old sailor sat on the floor against a black wall, sorting through piles of cheese very studiously despite being surrounded by food of every other kind.

The galley was... unorganised to say the least.

“Who’s this? The sorry lad you found to replace me?”

Seonghwa’s polite smile faded and the sight of it made the old man cackle.

“He’s a much better cook than you are, Tak,” Mr. Hwang joked back. “But you and I both know this was a only temporary job anyway, you belong above decks.”

As he inspected the piles of food stored away, Seonghwa realised that Mr. Tak apparently only knew how to make soup. And from the looks of things, the kitchen had been on fire at least once.

“I’ll leave you to breakfast then,” Hwang concluded with a hardy slap to both their backs and headed for the door.

“Do you have any fresh fruit?” Seonghwa asked the old man hesitantly, and in response he got a mouse trap shoved in his face.

“Can’t you see I’m busy with the rats? Fresh fruit — wait until you’re stuck weeks out of the colonies with no supplies because of a tax kerfuffle! Then you’ll be wishing for fresh fruit!”

Suppressing a sigh, Seonghwa resolved to search on his own and left Tak to his tinkering. It was calming, to do something he was familiar with for once and let Mr. Hwang serve the morning meal to the crew so he didn’t have to show his face on deck again. Breakfast could have been better, but he wagered it was an improvement on whatever they’d been eating previously as he wrinkled his nose and threw himself into planning the next meal.

The entire day was consumed with cooking and planning and familiarising himself with the galley. Tak stayed out of his way for the most part, and by late evening Seonghwa was tired enough to seek refuge in his hammock, mind racing throughout the night with ideas for the rest of the week.

But of course, while he stirred his dumplings three days out, tragedy struck in the form of seasickness.

He had been feeling uncomfortable all morning, with the humid and confined space, the boat rushing upwind, the smell of the food and swirling vertigo all becoming too much to handle.

Seonghwa shouted out something about being nauseous and Tak was there to guide him upstairs to the rail of the main deck.

“Vomit to leeward!” He cautioned gruffly, steering his young charge downwind by the neck and letting him heave into the ocean waves.

Seonghwa slumped to the deck at some point, exhausted and still considerably dizzy, and let Tak drag him below again when he was sure he was done.

“I may just be an old salt, but you’re no mariner, boy,” the man clicked his tongue disapprovingly. “You’re, what, sixteen and have never been at sea?”

“He’s just the cook, there’s no reason for him to have prior knowledge about sailing,” Mr. Hwang’s voice explained from somewhere and when the room stopped spinning, Seonghwa realised they were in the hold where the bunks where. “What did you do to him, Tak Moon?”

“It wasn’t me, he’s green at the gills like I warned you he would be,” Tak defended himself in that sassy tone of voice he always used. “Now, if you’ll let me go make the landlubber some ginger tea, you can be the one to tuck him in bed.”

Seonghwa didn’t think his stomach could handle anything at all right now, but just as he bit his lip to keep from whining, the cooper crossed in front of him and blocked his route to bed.

“Hang on, let’s switch your hammock around. Fore-to-aft so you don’t feel the pitch of the ship as harshly. It’ll pass when the waters are calmer for sure, but I don’t want to eat Tak’s food for dinner tonight, so the sooner you’re on your feet again, the better.”

It was supposed to be funny but Seonghwa was too fatigued to even crack a smile and so he collapsed in his bed, swinging much less violently than it was before Hwang moved it, and squeezed his eyes shut.

Time passed unnaturally quickly, because when he opened them again, the teacup sitting next to him had grown cold and night had fallen.

Closing his eyes for a time had improved his condition considerably, but the presence of so many men snoring in their hammocks made Seonghwa slightly claustrophobic again, so he took his tea and tiptoed to the kitchen, warming it over the fire and drinking it quickly.

Glancing at the corner, he wrinkled his nose at the presence of rats caught in the traps, but noticed another stinky scent, not from the rodents or the accumulated cheese.

Following his nose took him to the lower decks, where the quartermaster Namgoong was consoling the agitated livestock.

In the past few days, Seonghwa had learned that the intimidating officer who guarded the quarterdeck was actually much more soft and compassionate on the inside than he had anticipated.

Though he maintained his gruff appearance with the crew, he had a special affection for the animals, even knowing they were likely to be slaughtered for meat when they reached their destination.

“They don’t like rough weather either,” Seonghwa observed quietly, and the other man turned his head in surprise, not expecting to see him.

“No, it makes them uneasy. Feeling better?”

The boy ducked his head as nervousness took over again but nodded while Namgoong was looking on.

“I think so...”

The sailor made a knowing sound and gave the cattle a final pat before turning to face him.

“Half of overcoming seasickness is mental. Just tell yourself you’re fine and you will be.”

“Right,” Seonghwa sighed. “It still won’t help save my life if I do fall overboard. I can’t swim well enough.”

“You don’t know how to swim?” Namgoong whispered back, shocked, before snorting and leading his charge back to the hold. “Well, that’s your first order of business when we reach our port of call, then. Off to bed now.”

Seonghwa didn’t put up a fight, ready to melt away his exhaustion again, and when he awoke the next morning, all his remedies seemed to have paid off.

The Monarch sailed smoothly for the rest of her short journey, and by the date their shipment was due they had docked on the archipelago and unloaded successfully.

While some of the more business-minded crew dealt with the sales and negotiations, Seonghwa found himself a free stretch of public beach on the island where they’d docked, Namhae, and under the ever watchful eye of Mr. Hwang, practiced his swimming.

He had appointed himself as a guardian (or else Mother had appointed him herself) and took it upon himself to teach the swimming lesson personally, showcasing various strokes and techniques and sternly warning Seonghwa against ever jumping overboard before realising the day had gone and going into town to find them an inn.

It was comfortable around Hwang. Seonghwa hesitated to think of him as a father figure, but couldn’t help but enjoy having him there. He taught him the kinds of things fathers usually taught their sons, and where Seonghwa’s mother had left off, he picked up smoothly and naturally.

Sometimes Seonghwa found himself wishing Mr. Hwang was his father, not the mysterious king who lived far away in the palace and wouldn’t even recognise him, but he stopped his thinking and rolled over in bed to face the wall.

The sea offered freedom, there was no reason to tether himself to someone when his focus should be the escape that seeing the world could offer.

The remainder of deliveries along the archipelago and the return trip were relatively uneventful, but their arrival at Kon found Seonghwa dressed and ready to go and embark on another voyage to some more distant place, nervously pacing at the door by the time Hwang appeared for breakfast, and the older man sat him down and chuckled at him before explaining, “We’ll be called back when we have another job and not a moment sooner. That’s just the nature of shore leave.”

Harvest was just around the corner, and the crew was permitted to celebrate with their families. It left the question of what Seonghwa ought to do when Hwang’s carriage came to bring him back to Doljeon, where his wife and daughters waited.

“Would you like us to drop you off at Lina’s?” Mr. Hwang yelled, sticking his head out the window and catching the gaze of a very anxious Seonghwa, standing on the dock with his things piled up awkwardly in his hands again.

“Yes, please!” He exclaimed, relieved, before loading up and sliding into a seat.

Fireworks were shooting off ahead, lighting up the sky in an explosively dazzling celebration while the town danced and sang, and the colours that streaked down were mesmerising.

Deep down, Seonghwa hoped it would bode well on his reunion with Mother.

He was wrong.

Seonghwa believed his first short sailing trip had already changed him, but from the moment he walked in the door only to be encased like a glass sculpture in her arms, he knew she didn’t see it that way.

“Still so fragile. I thought you would at least have more of a tan...” she sighed into his coat as she squeezed him in a hug.

“Mother, I will, it’s just that it’s only been a short trip, not to mention the weather.”

Mr. Hwang saw the storm clouds gathering between them and tipped his hat in farewell.

It quickly became apparent why Mother had allowed this arrangement in the first place. She hoped Seonghwa would not be up to the task after all, changing his mind and remaining in Doljeon with her once he’d tasted hardship. She thought life at sea would ultimately return him home, not separate him from her further.

It was a losing battle, but she fought and clawed hard over dinner while they stared each other down and didn’t touch the harvest feast Seonghwa had cooked in an angry blur.

Mother had no choice but to reveal her true intentions when he had deflected every concern expertly and the frankness of it all was nauseating.

“No, I’m sorry, but I don’t think sailing is right for you. I mean, what if you fall overboard? You can’t even swim.”

“But Mr. Hwang actually taught me while we were in Namhae—”

“Then there’s the matter of your pay, it’s quite low,” Mother shot back. “Are you not working enough to match their expectations? I’m sorry, this is all my fault to have left you incapable—”

“Mother, that’s enough!” Seonghwa finally snapped, standing from the table and throwing down his napkin. “How can you expect me to be thriving when you’ve given me so little time? I haven’t even started helping with the cooper business yet, can’t you wait for the revenue to come in before making your judgment?”

“Seonghwa, dear—”

“No!” He burst out in a scream that shook the windows. “I’ve had enough! I am not weak and helpless, I’m learning and discovering myself. You already destroyed my life when you stole me, you have no right to meddle in it now. If you won’t give me a say in my own future, just stay away from me!”

Shocked to be scorned so completely, Mother didn’t even move from her chair as Seonghwa ran from the house in tears.

He had never been sure of what he wanted, but at the moment he knew without question that he wanted to be away from her.

It had all just been another plot to manipulate him into self-doubt and self-hatred, to persuade him to choose to remain in her control, when in reality it had backfired to disastrous proportions.

Seonghwa had somewhere to go now, for however long he could.

He wouldn’t see that woman again.

...

A/N: The future is taking shape! Like the double meaning of the chapter title? Let me know what you thought in the comments and have a good week :)

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[smoljamswrites]

all is fair in love & war | bts x reader | chapter one

pairing: bts x female reader

genre: (eventual) smut, fluff, angst, series fic, mafia!au

warnings for this chapter: kidnapping mention, mention of murderers, mention of being beaten, character being wreckless? and doing stupid shit? alcohol, character feels like she’s being watched, swearing, um idk if anything else could be a trigger? 

a/n: I’ll try and update this regularly + thank you guys so much for your support so far!!  Also, future chapters will be longer than this one!!

the playlist is here, if anybody wants the link!x

All these years living with Sin Syndicate you have been kept under lock and key. Which is understandable really, you’ve probably been labelled as a missing person for years now. Life is pretty boring for you though, you’d think living with a huge mafia gang you’d be up close and personal with all the dramas and crimes. But that isn’t the case; you just stay in this huge house all day, which sounds lovely, until you remember you share it with murderers. The only time that you have left this house was that one time you were 13 and you had snuck out. To your misfortune, you got caught within an hour, and got brought back home to be beaten. But what Sin Syndicate never found out is that you took some of their money and you brought yourself a phone that day. Not one that could be traced though – just in case they ever did find it – you bought an old Nokia phone, and now you spend most of your days playing snake. You never tried to actually run away from them though because you know that if they ever did find you again, which is very likely, then they would definitely kill you this time.

At the moment, Sin Syndicate has every reason to believe that Bangtan are going to attack soon. 3 syndicate members this week have mysteriously “vanished” without a trace, and well, it would be no surprise if they are now facing the wrath of the rival gang. Everyone is currently losing their minds, preparing for an attack. And it’s much harder to be ready for an attack when you don’t even know what the rivals look like. Bangtan have been good at shielding their identities; always wearing masks when they are on jobs. Luckily for you, they seemingly have forgotten about your presence in the midst of all this chaos. So, for the first time in almost 7 years, you sneak out of your window in search of fun, and that brings us to now.

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

You shouldn’t be here. There’s so much sweat on your skin, and not all of it is yours. The music is blaring, pulsating through your body. You’ve never been here before; it’s only recently opened and usually you wouldn’t be out at this time of night, but everyone had been so ‘preoccupied’ that you just took your chances. You left. Escaped even. Now you’re here, living life like a normal girl your age would, and god does it feel good. You feel alive. The club was like your heartbeat put on loudspeaker. As the floor vibrated with bass notes, your body sways with the rhythm, alcohol running through your veins like it was being fed through an IV drip.

This was your first mistake – escaping. The second being you’re here all alone. Truth be told, you were a strong-headed young lady and when push came to shove you could hold your own; that’s what growing up with Sin Syndicate has taught you. But this is different. Especially when this club is owned by them – Bangtan. But of course, you don’t know that. Nobody knows that, and well, if you do, then you better keep your mouth shut.

They’ve been wanting you for years. You’d be great leverage. Imagine being able to capture your rival’s most prized possession, their weakness. The accident that happened all those years ago, where they got caught and panicked. They didn’t finish the job; they didn’t finish you. And now Bangtan wants that hold over them. They want you, and all the information you have, whether you’re willing to give them it or not. And you’ve just handed yourself to them on a plate. And that is your third mistake.

You’ve never felt like this before – you feel on top of the world and you’re 100% certain that no punishment could make you ever regret this. Everyone’s bodies touched while moving to the melody of the music. You haven’t heard music in such a long time, and even though you have no idea what songs are being played, you can’t stop dancing. Everyone else seems to be mouthing all the words, and you have to admit it is a good song, it’s a shame you’ll probably never hear it again.

However, you cannot shake this feeling that someone is watching you. Call it crazy or maybe paranoia, it could even be called a ‘Spidey Sense’, but you feel like somebody is watching your every move. With a quick glance around, you see that almost every girl has caught someone’s attention. You try to tell yourself it’s nothing – probably just a predatory, hungry gaze from someone who is dying to take you home tonight…at least that’s what happens on the TV right? Deciding that you need another drink to loosen up a bit, you head to the bar.

Someone is watching you alright, and so is his friend upstairs that overlooks the dancefloor. The one downstairs watches you with a confused stare. Surely it can’t really be you? He’s seen a picture of your face a million times over, and yet actually seeing it right here in front of him doesn’t feel real to him. Is he dreaming? The taller man, who stands in the darkness of the upper floor, wears a different look. His grin shows his evident elation; basking in the joy that you are completely unaware of the situation you have unknowingly put yourself in.

As you push and squeeze past all the bodies blocking the way, you see the non-flickering lights above the bar, becoming instantly grateful that they aren’t like the strobe ones on the dancefloor. Taking a seat on one of the barstools you look over to the bartenders, and you see that one is on his way over to you. You quickly dig through your bag, in search for your money.

“Hi what can I get you?”    

You don’t even get chance to look up to see which bartender the voice belonged to, when a deeper, much more stronger sounding voice took over.

“I’ll take this one, go serve them over there”

Instantly your head snaps up, and your eyes meet with his. This bartender has long, dark brown hair but your eyes are immediately drawn to his figure. He must work out a lot to get a body like that. His chest looked solid, and he had tattoos down his one arm. God, he looked heavenly.

“You okay there?” he smirked, eyes never leaving yours, “what can I get you?”

“rum and coke” you snap and look away, feeling heat rising in your face.

He turns away swiftly to make you your drink, muttering something under his breath that sounded awfully similar to ‘feisty’. When he turns back around and places the drink in front of you, he leans on the counter, making it so you’re now near enough the same height. You move back abruptly and hold out your hand to give him the money, but he just shakes his head.

“It’s on the house, don’t worry about it” he smiles, and even though he seemed really cocky before, this smile of his appears to be genuine. Its weird though, you think, that he wanted to serve you and he even gave you a drink for free. Is he allowed to do that? You’ve never been one to be timid and so you don’t bat an eyelid when you question his motive.

“Can’t I give out free drinks to pretty customers now? I can make you pay if you really want, but I’d rather you have it for free. Besides, I think the real question is why are you here alone?” his voice is sultry and smooth, slipping from his lips like warm honey.

How does he know you here alone? Warning sounds in your mind, and you tell yourself to be cautious around this man. There’s something about him that you just can’t put your finger on.

“My friends are on the dancefloor actually. Now if you’d excuse me-“

“No! Stay,” you turn around and look at him, what the fuck is happening?

“Please stay here, I know it sounds weird, but I noticed you earlier when you came in. You seemed out of place, and you were alone. You’ve had guys watching you all night, and I really want to keep an eye on you, make sure you’re okay. Wouldn’t want you to fall into the wrong hands now, would we?”

The way he said that last sentence sent shivers down your spine. It seemed a little odd. But he did have a point, coming here alone was stupid, and a little protection wouldn’t exactly be bad, would it?

Once you’ve sat back down, he straightens up, giving you some space.

“So what are you doing here alone?”

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

The room was black for the most part, except for the chocolatey wooden desk and sparkly silver chandelier. Two black, leather couches faced each other, and at the head of the room, stood a big office-type chair next to the desk. A small golden panther adorned the corner of the desk.

The sudden knock of the door, and a young man bursting in interrupted the 3 older men’s conversation. With a sigh, the man sat at the desk addressed the younger man who smiled like an excited child, “What is it, Taehyung?”

“You will not believe this!” the man, who’s name is Taehyung, exclaims, capturing the attention of the two other men sat in the room, “Guess who is downstairs!?”

All three deadpanned while Taehyung carried on, boxy smile still prominent on his face.

“Y/N! Y/F/N! Sin Syndicate’s girl. Yknow, the one who-“

“We get it Tae, no need to continue” the one in charge says sternly.

“Wait, what is she doing here though?” one of the guys sitting on the couch questions.

“Nobody knows Jin. She’s at the bar as we speak! Jimin was the first to spot her actually. Can you believe this!?” Taehyung is acting like he wants to jump up and down at this point.

After being asked who is serving you, and Tae answering with the name ‘Guk’, that starts a conversation with the two men on the couch.

“I bet he’s having a field day with her! I’d say he’s been determined to get her the most, from like day one!”

“Yeah Jin, but is he smart enough to fucking spike her drink? Because that’s what we need to do! And well, he’s a fucking dumbass when he wants to be!”

The one sat at the desk seemingly agrees with this, and turns to Taehyung, “Whatever you do Tae, don’t let her leave”

next chapter update: Wednesday 22nd January 2020 8pm gmt

tagging: @toddsgirl27​ @honeydewseoks​ @whimsicalwoodlands​ @dearlydreadful​ @wendyiiwl​ @asifetch7​ @barbyisafangirl​ @miraculyfe​ @smollmonajinsa

let me know if you want to be tagged in future chapters!

Thank you so much for reading!

all rights reserved © smoljamswrites | 12/01/2020 | reposting my work or modifying of any kind is strictly not allowed. Translations are also not allowed.

[ohblackdiamond]

liner notes/unused joke summaries for kiss fics (part iv)

Despite what my general dislike of the shift key and my tendency to mock all that I love might imply, I actually overthink everything I write to a great extent. I make no claims to these explanations being in any way enjoyable, but if you wanted to know what I was thinking while writing KISS fic… now you do. Part one can be found here. Part two is here. Part three is here. 

little t&a --If Paul had boobs, they would be big and Gene would want to grab them.

>>Title from a Rolling Stones song of the same name; most of the chapter titles are from another Stones song, “The Spider and the Fly.” I started it during quarantine as a means to occupy myself and destress, and didn’t initially plan on posting it at all. Once I’d written five chapters without having posted it or mentioned it to anyone, I figured, well, I guess this might as well go somewhere, so I put it up. I had the hope that it’d give me something to strive for during the stress of lockdown, and I’d assumed that I wouldn’t ever have that much time to devote to a story again.

There were a couple of things that really inspired me. I’ve always enjoyed sexswaps as a bit of a guilty pleasure, but wanted to do a different take on them-- there’s this tendency for sexswaps to either be wacky hijinks or an excuse to write particularly brutal noncon. There’s also a tendency for the sexswapped character to almost automatically start adopting stereotypically feminine traits he didn’t have prior, with no real reason for it. I wanted to try and avoid all that as much as possible.

... There’s also another tendency for the sexswapped character never getting back to normal, and I wanted to avoid that, too. I mean, c’mon, KISS is supposed to start the Love Gun tour a month after the fic. Paul can’t exactly pull the trigger of a love taco. (Maybe gently brush it a bit...)

I had Paul already cursed for five days at the start of the fic because I thought it would make things easier and allow the plot to advance more quickly. I also felt like it would give him more autonomy-- prior to Gene showing up, he has tried (albeit in small ways) to get a handle on what’s happened to him, and while he’s hermited it up, he hasn’t given up. Autonomy in general was pretty important for me re: Paul. (Incidentally, probably one of my favorite things about this fic is that Paul’s made that poor twelve-year-old kid on his bike buy him sanitary napkins.)

I wanted to explore a couple of other things, too, mostly rock and roll’s (and KISS’ in particular) pretty heinous treatment of women. Gene and Paul argue in the eighties that groupies know the score from the beginning, and even postulates that those relationships are more “honest” than just taking a girl out to dinner. They’re not alone in this (and, of course, as married men, these days they try not to discuss those times at all); almost every band/artist from around that time period will give you the same answer. “The girls know what they’re doing.” I think many of them did know. I also think many of them came into those hotel rooms expecting a lot more than they ever received, and I think plenty of girls ended up at the very least disappointed by their encounters, if not humiliated or worse.

I don’t know if this was successful, but I also wanted to at least try to poke a few holes in celebrity/idol worship as well. Carol’s scathing comments to Paul-- “they [fans] think there’s something you’ve got that they can get at, but there’s not” pretty heavily exemplify behavior I’ve seen at conventions, fan meet-ups, etc. At the end of the day, well, there’s no point in putting them on much of a pedestal. I dunno. I’ve seen some weird crap in the name of fan worship, in and outside of RPS. Keith Richards talks about it in his book-- girls urinating on themselves out of sheer nerves/excitement just at seeing the band, etc., which, while disturbing, had to have given them a sense of being something beyond ordinary (and act accordingly, of course).

I don’t know. I like them a lot, but I can’t hero-worship these guys; they don’t live in the real world. They’re not, ultimately, relatable or accessible despite the billions of photos, the twitter posts, the meet and greets-- any more than they were 40-odd years ago. I think there can be a real danger in thinking they are. I wanted to show that, too, but again, I don’t know if it came across properly.

One of the aspects I really struggled with was getting a good handle on Paul’s innately slippery sense of identity without it overtaking the story entirely. Gene’s very stable identity was a good foil, and it helped that most of “t&a” is from his point of view, rather than Paul’s.

Another place I faltered with was Paul’s outing alone at CBGB. The first draft had the guy in the club slip quaaludes into his drink, but I really didn’t like that at all and felt it took too much control away from Paul/punished him for going out on his own. I thought it’d be more interesting if Paul deliberately took what he knew was a dangerous combination (alcohol + quaaludes) in the hopes that would make him feel better about sleeping with someone he didn’t care about.

Unfortunately, or fortunately, having him do that (and the way the scene with the guy at the club ends) also meant that I couldn’t have him hop right into bed with Gene that night, either, so that accounts for some of the delaying. I was also really wanting to make sure in general that when Gene and Paul finally did go all the way, there wasn’t any feeling of being coerced or pressured. Not that Gene would do either of those things, but I didn’t want him or Paul to be doing it out of any feeling of obligation or hurry; I wanted it to be as natural as possible, under the circumstances. And I wanted, again, Paul’s dubious sense of self and Gene’s ambiguous feelings about Paul(’s boobs) to come into play-- yes, Paul, now you, too, can take Gene on the amazing technicolor dreamdate you’ve been fantasizing about for the last seven years! Or, you know, not. Overall, there are some pacing issues and the story slows down considerably after Gene takes Paul home from CBGB, but I like to hope that most of the scenes add something.

There were a couple of secondary plotlines that got scrapped because I couldn’t get them to fit well enough with the narrative. One of them was Paul’s very troubled relationship with his sister, Julia. There’s a fair amount of references to her scattered throughout, and Paul brings her up on several occasions, generally without much provocation, and generally at mildly odd moments (at Central Park and immediately after getting drawn by Gene being the standouts). There was an initial draft of the chapter in which Ace calls Paul, where Julia’s the one calling Paul instead (after having gotten his number from their parents). I wanted to at least get the start of a reconciliation going between them. Ultimately I scrapped it because I couldn’t get it to flow with the main plot and never felt like I’d ever explored it thoroughly enough for it to be worth a detour.

The comparison between Paul and Carol is pretty blatantly obvious, even in the narrative. Paul and Gene both recognize it (Gene, initially, when he notes that Carol doesn’t seem to belong at 54 any more than Paul does), and it makes them highly uncomfortable. (Mary-Anne, Carol’s friend, also notices it-- “she [Paul] reminds me of Carol. Just pitiful.”) They’re both very shy, insecure people that have thrust themselves into a world they’re not naturally suited for (show business) in order to achieve their own ends. They’ve both put great stock in a single person who helped them (inadvertently or not) during a dark time, and are driven by those feelings, despite knowing that person is out of reach.

Physically, they’re intentionally mostly opposite (Carol’s short, with a slight build, lighter hair, blue eyes, vs. Paul being, well, Paul-- tall, fuller build, black hair, brown eyes). But narratively speaking, neither of them are described as beautiful; “cute” and “kind of pretty,” sure, but nothing past that (except when Gene says it towards the end). That was important, too, for a couple of reasons. One, I wanted to further the comparison between them; two, I wanted to at least try and dispel the idea that all groupies were glamorous; many of them were rather ordinary-looking.

Paul not being “playboy material as a girl” was very deliberate. I feel like a lot of sexswaps tend to make the guy in question end up a ridiculously hot babe, which didn’t quite jive with what I was going for (not that I wanted Paul to end up awful-looking, but...). ... He’s probably hotter than he thinks he is though; at least, Gene didn’t mind at all, and Pete thought he was pretty. I wanted him to be recognizable if one knew where to look (face, body language). I didn’t want him to end up a tiny, frail-looking waif-- given what he looks like as a dude, that didn’t make sense to me. So this meant the less perfect attributes had to stay and carry over to a female body. He ended up with big boobs because... well, honestly because if he wasn’t going to end up with a great figure overall, he might as well have great boobs. And I mean, really, his chest’s already pretty all right as-is.

I didn’t want there to be a love triangle, but I did want it obvious, at least in an offhand way, that Peter and Paul had had sex (Ace mentions it in the car with Peter, with his “how long did it take you”). I wanted to incorporate Ace and Peter to as great an extent as possible in general.

Marbas is an actual demon from The Lesser Key of Solomon, although other than the few sentences Paul reads off from that grimoire, there’s not much more information on him to be found. 

[goatpaste]

So I'm pretty new to your fan clans and Im confused by the way they work. Is there any chance that you could help me understand how the clans themselves formed? I know at least one clan lives in a twolegplace (partially at least) but otherwise Im very confused

ah im p new to my own fan clans lol, like just made them up three days ago lolbut iv been working as i go to make them!

heres a good starting point

a sketched map of their OG territories. three slabs of land split in three by a river.the dock in the middle was their gathering place( iv drawn it a bit small im bad with ‘maps’ but its a tall dock that the cats will gather under, the leaders sitting on a few large boulders near the shoreline. 

and then their current territory where Honorclan forest has been mostly cut down and replaced by twoleg territory 

another thing to note before i get too into it, these clans believe in starclan but a little differently.they do believe it to be the place clan cats go in death, but instead of listening and being guided by all of starclan, they in a sense worship select cats. typically past leaders who in their eyes after being leader and dying for their clan become that of gods in starclan, and using their ancient wisdom of the clan they once ruled and their new cosmic identity to guide them forward even after death. 

but this gonna be a whole thing more some more under the cut it goes!

Loyalclan (heart emblem) lives in a vast field of tall grass that has a few trees before hitting a wall of trees a the edge of the field.they are known for being on the smaller side, hidden by the tall grass. their good diggers even using old tunnels dug up by larger animals as passage ways to their camp. their camp is located at the edge of their territory where a cluster of trees lines the end of the field. the camp is in a dip in the ground, what would appear to be the dig out of what could have been past human digging. The pit is nearly 8 feet deep. they make dens out of holes in the walls. their center of the camp tends to be full of leaves that have fallen from the trees above and its a chore for apprentices to clear out old leaves before they get nasty. the leaders den and the medicine cat den is sat on their side of their exit, a tunnel that leads nearly 15 ft out.opposite side sits the nursery, apprentice den, warrior den, elders den and a tunnel out to a dirtplace.

again to state their cats are typically on the small side, their short enough to be unseen in the grass, very light on their feet.

their primary prey tends to be mice and voles that live in the fields and sometimes birds and pheasants  are a nice treat.the biggest part of their bodies tend to be their large wide front paws built for digging up the homes of prey. trivia wise their first leader was a stray named Foxie who in her youth was abandoned with no recollection of her past. her only companion was that of a dog who was her only family. when leaf bare came, Her dog companion passed away. Foxie stayed by her dead companions side for days until she was found by local cats who helped her. they fixed up his funeral and welcomed foxie into their home. when the clans were established and she was made leader she was renamed Loyalstar, in sake of her devotion to her late friend and to her future clan. the clans are currently on their third leader Mutestar who successed FlaxstarHonorclan (shield emblem) once living in a heavily dense forest known for their tracking abilities and strength. they hunted on feast of many small animals and were known for being able to hunt and kill foxes in packs.their forest was large and prey plenty.their only concern ever was a small logging facility that worked in their forest twice a year. they would come in and take down some trees before the winter started. to them never a huge concern and plenty of forest to go around. but it only got worseunknown to the cats, the logging facility was sold off to a big company that quickly and efficiently over the course of a few years developed the land and made it a small city town. theres only a strip of territory left that is still woodlands covering the edge of the bank of the river. unlike the other clans that shoved over when the humans arrive, Honorclan didnt move a muscle. the only thing that moved was their camp. they chose to make the best of their situation.their camp was relocated to a small cove like area a little bit further down the stream. 

its a rocky little space with the river at their front door. its mostly hidden by rocks with cozy spaces in the area for cats to hole up in. 

the part of the territory to focus on now a days is the part the humans made and the cats rule.  the twolegs homes closest to the river and small cafes and stores where its usually much quieter and the loudest thing around are twoleg children who come down to play at the water. further in is shopping centers and tall buildings lined with bright colorful light and windows. Honorclan takes vantage of the space, hunting for rats and taking garbage or even excepting food from twolegs from time to time. 

a beloved spot when cats arnt hunting is alleys behind dry cleaners where hot air comes out holes in the sides of the buildings. 

the cats a more typical cat build, agile bodies built for climbing to the top of buildings and furry bodys for keeping warm at night.

these cats are a mostly nocturnal clan working from late evenings to somewhere past midnight out of the eyes of most humans.they also seem to possess a decently language skill being able to understand some human words, talking to dogs or pigeons.and much like skyclan, they have rather unconventional names. having names based on human things, or having kittypets and ally cats joining their clan and keeping their names or making them warrior names. 

They were founded by Aseer a leader of a traveling group of cats who met the cats that would become Loyalclan a group of welcoming and kind felines.the two groups chose to share the land splitting it between the two of them.

Aseer was a kind tom who honored their promises and kept to their land, and in time the clans began to form and rules came into place.after the first months settled in the river flooded and ruined the land that the soon to be cats of loyalclan called home. much prey had drowned and died in their homes, the grassland like a marsh. Foxie and her group were in great need of help.

Their code spoke of keeping to their own lands and no taking of prey from each others territories no matter what (a rule now changed after this experience). However in this time Aseer chose to set aside their laws, and his honor to help his neighbors by bringing them in and feeding them in his lands.starclan chose him as leader, naming his Honorstar. a cat who while showing great honor and pride for his clan knew when to set aside and help others in need. 

The current leader is Greasestar, he is currently the 4th leader of Honorclan. he preceded Strikestar.As for our last clan i cant tell you a whole lot yet >:3c

but their name is

Gloryclan

they live in the last third of the territories that is like marsh land, land that never dried up moons after the flooding on the fields happened.  its full of large rocks and plants that seem to only grow on their marshy banks.

they were founded by Hero later named Glorystar due to her epic tale of heroics.

[druid-for-hire]

UNSWAYED PT. IV

(pt. i) (pt. ii) (pt. iii) (pt. v) (epilogue) (askblog)

this update consists of a bit of the trek back to hadestown and the workers’ revolution that lasts the summer until persephone’s return in the fall, and being granted the chance to leave at last--to leave for real.

thank you so so much to all my friends @supercantaloupe​, @unholy-boi​ (who helped write the Riots sect), @damondaunnodyke​, & @s-aint-elmo

persephone has left again and sets to repairing the world up Top after the hurricane, now that she’s helped the lovers.

orpheus and eurydice are... on the exodus from the Beyond. it’s a long road--it’s a long walk. takes a week or two.

kampê slinks into the shadows and hides, bitter, among the smokestacks. she hurts and she fears. hades will come for her, she knows, but she knows this place far better than he--that man barely checks up (hence how her grip on the place has gotten out of control), hasn’t been there for all of the rearrangements and updates in centuries. she knows where to hide. he will not find her in her domain. this is her darkness.

the imagery of the Exodus is very much akin to/inspired by the same Exodus of the movie Prince of Egypt. u kno that one?

looks like this, yeah, but like... obviously without the fish, because the walls aren’t made of ocean in this au, they’re just rock

and orpheus and eurydice leading the pack, shadowed looks of determination on their faces

again: this is where Promises (But Sadder) happens

as eurydice takes orpheus back to the main parts of hadestown, she notices too many things: his legs tremble, his hands shake, he breathes just barely too hard and clears his throat and coughs too much; and as they talk about the small things to fill some of the quiet, orpheus asks “what’d you say?” too often

(it’s hearing damage babey!)

of course, no one is spared from the hardships of hadestown. but she... does not like seeing those scars on orpheus

this long walk is also the time they tell each other everything that happened to them since they last saw each other

reminder: orpheus is still weak & kinda sick! and it’s a long walking journey. and everyone’s tired. sometimes they all sit down and camp for the “night” or something. 

the beyond’s not been kind to him; he’s pale as a corpse, with sunken eyes and hollow cheeks, looks as dead as he feels

(really, all the other workers from the Beyond don’t look much better)

it’s kind of a spooky sight when they stop for a few hours and he lays down to take a rest. the state he’s in...

and eurydice is a fairly good singer--nowhere near on orpheus’ (former) level, but good, and she probably sings him small tunes here and there just for the two of them, to relax and comfort and what have you

@axolotlbeans: at some point they stop for the “night” and orpheus collapses; eurydice, who’d been singing, gathers him in her arms and says, "Orpheus, you're shivering; is it cold or fear?"

and he interrupts her, burying his face into her neck and softly rasps "Just keep singing" in the smallest, weakest voice 

when they arrive. it is... a lot.

the long train of people is... heavily distracting. and they seem to come out of nowhere--a lot of hadestown wasn’t even aware there was a Beyond ‘till orpheus got banished, and then they didn’t know the name or what it was, just that he got banished somewhere. even the foremen turn to see; everyone’s sort of like. uh. what the hell is going on? and work sort of stalls out a little bit

eurydice and orpheus go straight to hades and present their demands to let them go. let them all go. blah blah blah some other stuff it probably sounds fairer than that, i don’t have the brain energy to outline all their demands specifically

by the slightly edited words of my good friend supercanteloupe:

let us go, eurydice demands, and hades just laughs, jailbirds like themselves don’t get their freedom so easily. get back to work, songbird, and don’t let the foreman know you’ve been slacking. and all of the rest of you... you’d better return before you’re made to return.

they go, but they’re not done, not by a long shot.

they don’t go back to work.

orpheus cannot sing, but he is still a poet, and the workers have their voices too

the bristling unrest of Hadestown begins to develop into protests, and the protests turn into riots.

orpheus can craft all the words eurydice needs to say with her spirited and powerful voice, to hit every point to cause uprisings and to stab every point to whittle hades down

hades notices things are beginning to go wrong. machine malfunctions, damaged, outright broken; strikes, sit-ins. rolling blackouts. eurydice and orpheus come back and back, with more and more workers, the ones they led out from the beyond and the ones from the factories and mines, always to demand: let us go. 

and hades grows only more calloused and bitter. you failed your test, you don't get second chances. Players who break the rules are banned from play. 

and every time they turn back, back to their increased workloads and their stricter overseers and their hope now stretching thin, and their anger growing more

ok back to me writing: but enough pushing, and even the overseers are beginning to turn.

the furies, infamous guardswomen and union busters, are doing their best to do damage control. and they are fierce. they are vicious, nearly (but not quite) as bad as kampê, and there are three of them--but then there are only three of them, and they cannot possibly control every single instance of revolt when the ball gets rolling

eurydice and orpheus are now the leaders of rebellion, and both of them are marked for banishment. they have to run from god-king hades and stay out of the unrelenting sights of the Furies.

(and this also means they can’t work or the foremen still on hades’ side might turn em in. so they catch a break and a nap, finally, jesus christ)

but.

there is trouble (For hades) in the fact that kampê has practically gone missing. no matter how many are sent to the Beyond, now there is no one to stop them from just... making the trip back. sure. it takes a long time. about a week or so of walking, but they just... come back.

hades takes notice. hades visits the Beyond for the first time in so long and tries to find her, to no avail. the Beyond is far changed than when he last saw it and he does not have the time to spend to find her--he cannot step away from his children for more than a few hours, lest something go wrong again. this is just another inconvenience on his long, long list.

@lookoutitsregan: “they're legally allowed to leave after 15 minutes”

orpheus and eurydice will be dealt with by himself, and so they run--avoid him as much as they can, hide under his radar

by the words of unholy-boi: hades will not let go of his empire so easily. the building pressure only makes him clench his fists tighter, bend his back further, push further to his own breaking point (and towards everyone else’s). 

he’s more likely to go down screaming that he isn’t, more likely to cling hard and furious to his city, push his workers into the dirt and further lose persephone in the process, the further this goes, the more against him, the more likely he is to furiously, dangerously fight back. 

as summer turns late, hadestown doesn’t soften like hades may have had it for persephone in years long since past, hadestown turns from city to warzone

ok back to me again

for the songbirds: there’s the riots and them narrowly escaping hades like all the damn time while he pushes everyone else to their limits

and yet they refuse to be pushed and usurp their foremen as fast as he reinstates things

revolutions usually have unifying symbols of a sort, and the many isolated revolts do eventually coalesce into this all being an outright revolution--a workers’ movement, if you will.

the red carnation. though they don’t have it, they all remember seeing in orpheus’ hand before he was banished--the one solid sliver of the aboveground anyone saw in a long time

@s-aint-elmo: the red carnation becomes their symbol--though they don’t have it, they paint it in hidden alleyways and abandoned factory walls. they have red paper flowers and red cloth tucked into pockets and tool belts

or the red of some banner that waves in the acrid smoke-wind of hadestown’s false air fronts

flowers, painted and made and substituted, are cropping up all over hadestown, and in increasingly more obvious spots. life is blooming in the underground for the first time in so long

OH ALSO, another fun layer of symbolism with the red cloths:

in the staging of actual hadestown, when orpheus sings "and they're gonna bend their branches down and lay their fruit upon the ground; the almond and the apple, the sugar and the maple" the ensemble is on the tables, reaching over eurydice like tree branches in a sort of ^ formation; on "almond" and "apple," the first two layers pull out and dangle white cloth, but on "sugar from the maple," the dude at the top dangles a red one and drops it into eurydice's hands

so there’s that!

also being the bounty of spring above...... rejecting the underworld. some shit like that

in a musical there’d definitely be a sort of revolution song

like uhhh... Why We Build the Wall II. it’s Different this time. it’s not about the circular logic of the wall, it’s about rebelling against the order hades has set for them

There’s so many lines that can be drawn from elsewhere in the musical to be inserted into this

Why do we build the wall, my brothers, my sisters?

He said the wall would bring us peace, the wall would keep out the enemy.

mister hades set us free to work ourselves into the ground. a lot of souls have gotta die to make the underworld go round.

why are we digging out own graves for a living, if we're free tell me why we can't even stand upright?

some sort of rebellion/callback against “who are you to think that you can hold your head up higher than your fellow man?”

i’m gonna count to three, and then i’ll raise my head, singin’, one, two--!

(except they probably finish the count in this one)

also, because i am weak for really great chords being belted out by a big chorus and hearing every voice part slot together, because this is a revolution song with lots of people i think it should have that

everybody 👏knows 👏the 👏walls 👏have 👏ears 👏

thank u supercanteloupe & s-aint-elmo for ur additions on this

the fates’ voices still carry on the wind, hadestown’s false air fronts of stale and acrid air, but orpheus and eurydice have since learned to turn their backs to it

ALSO? Flags

with the revolution coming to span A Really Big Chunk of hadestown, most likely more than half, there’d probably be people putting up flags and banners

i’m just like, inspired by the imagery of the flag raisings in wwii and post-9/11, and also i’m thinking of les mis/french revolution in general not gonna lie

sure, the Furies are union-busters and come after any sign of revolution, but every revolution is a fight against something. there’s always blood spilled, what different is this one?

they can’t be everywhere at once and they’re not like the Fates--they get tired, they’re not omnipresent and omniscient, the people are not powerless

the flag is supposed to attract attention, the point is to be loud

and by god, they are screaming

this is what a steel mill looks like at night. hadestown was sort of already in a hazy blaze, but combo this with a revolution in its midst, with fighting and fire, and... well, it’s a mess

and through all the flames are the carnations blooming, painted and carved on walls and smokestacks and pathways

(it’s very poetic)

(tumblr will kill this post if i link to the source directly, so. photo taken by DragonWolfACe @ deviantart)

hermes still ferries on the train, but the schedule is all out of whack thanks to the strikes and riots turning the systems upside down. he witnesses plenty of the mess that hadestown has fallen into, and the fight the songbirds are fighting

he relays as much news as he can to persephone

(thanks @damondaunnodyke​ for helping write this bit w/ seph)

persephone... worries

she already snuck underground to help them once and a hurricane ravaged the Top for her absence. the songbirds have escaped, and now have to fight this fight for themselves--she can’t go back down to help them, because she has to bring the summertime to the Top, and she refuses to be the cause of another storm

so she’s stuck aboveground. 

and she’s uhh. stressing. drinking. worrying.

everyone can tell there’s something off, but she doesn’t want to dwell on it, insisting that everyone else should just focus on the good times. let me tell ya something that my mama said to me...

she tries to not stress--there’s nothing she can do right now, why worry, you know? unless she wants to get more gray hairs than she’s already got

but during one of those celebrations she almost says “let the poet bless this round!” before catching herself, remembering that she’s... not there

a lot of people give her a glance; why’d she stop?

but she picks herself back up again, only a moment's falter, and just toasts to life and summer

the end of summer.

the revolution rages on. it’s not calmed down--the very opposite, in fact, more ferocious than ever

(and thanks unholy-boi for basically writing this bit for me HBGFHG)

persephone knows something is wrong when the train isn’t early--isn’t on time, but in fact late to pick her up. the summer has stretched on longer than it should, and in some ways, that is just as dangerous as the winter going on for too long

hades has been getting ready to bring her home. it takes browbeating and strongarming to get the trains running, far too late for his liking.

at last the train comes for her, and when it is hermes who offers his hand to bring her onboard, she knows that things in the underworld are bad--an inferno, dangerous if not dire, and she wonders if the songbirds are still alive, or if they’ve gone and the revolution still rages without them

hades aches for his wife, but he dares not step away from hadestown for a moment. he’s become obsessed and absolutely determined to quell, to crush this rebellion

hades is breaking, but refuses to bend, hades has refrains where he refuses to sing but slips into poetry and catches himself halfway through, hades is breaking, he puts in people he believes he can trust and they turn on him out of desperation, hades is running out of places to desperately hold and he is breaking. hadestown is oblivion. hades is wearing a crown that mangled his head.

persephone steps off of the train, and is taken aback by the state hadestown is in

 the people feel her breeze in, and it is some relief, but the can’t tell how this will change things. if it’ll make things worse, if it’ll make it better

people ask for her aid; but she’s too busy looking around, trying to find the songbirds (after getting confirmation that they’re still alive) who are still hiding

and she finds them. she sees orpheus and eurydice (orpheus, who hades so clearly saw himself in, and eurydice, who she sees herself in) still fighting, still in love.

she sees hades’ mercilessness to the boy he sees himself in. she sees eurydice’s unending determination (in contrast to her own grown apathy) 

and she’s reminded of times before. song or no song.

she decides that this cannot keep going, and hades will keep going farther and farther until he fucking self-destructs at the end of his fall and she wants to catch him before that happens

hades raises his fist against his people, persephone takes his hand and she starts singing. the old song. holding his hand. protecting the people. 

la, la la la, la la la 

and he realizes what he’s doing, as music swells, as the rest of hadestown, quietly, starts to join her in singing. as her warmth, her natural warmth, surrounds him, and he smells flowers and feels pollen and sunlight, and he--

well, the ice around his heart starts to crack, and the iron starts to melt

she catches him before he breaks

His Kiss, the Riot is... different

more emotionally charged, i think, because of the fight he’s been fighting for so long, so fiercely and ardently. he’s much more emotionally compromised, stressed and strung out and now everything’s been turned on his head

he can’t just let them go, but he can’t make them stay. he definitely cannot make them stay. and if the songbirds leave, they will take almost all of hadestown with them

it’s not like... Hellfire Notre Dame levels of dramatic. it’s still quiet, dark, and brooding, but hades is. more of a mess, really

but he comes to his conclusion all the same

that’s about all i got on this. i just wanted to make a note. i thought it was important

the task is given: they can walk, but eurydice must walk in front, and orpheus must follow behind. she must not turn behind to see if orpheus is following--if he has not collapsed, and she will not be able to hear if he has. if she turns, she may return above, but her lover will return to hadestown. 

it’s given to eurydice instead because while she might be harder to instill doubt in, she’s as much susceptible to loneliness as any other. she may have been alone for so long, but she is desperate to not be alone again. and orpheus is still weak--still sick, and she fears he might give out before they reach the top, as much as he assures her he’ll be fine

and if they fail, well, they keep the poet, who was damned to hell anyway--a sentence is stronger than a contract

(Also, this is now Wait For Me III (the first being Orpheus on the way to Hadestown; second being Eurydice trying to find Orpheus; this is the third) and it is HUGE and GRAND, as the climax of the revolution. just as big, if not bigger than the bway version’s

(tho as per usual it’s tinged with sadness because of the circumstances, and the fact that, if this were staged, orpheus would be the only one not singing)

and then... doubt comes in

eurydice walks the path to the surface

hermes' warnings echo in her head, all the same he gave to orpheus in the normal timeline

it's cold

the fates badger her and bleed into her thoughts, systematically unwinding her confidence as she marches on through the dark

one foot after the other, she tells herself

after so long of turning her back to the wind, to the fates, she has learned to keep her head on straight

orpheus is not sturdy, especially now, but he is not so weak to fail on a walk like this--long, but simple, and upon even ground

he is there, she tells herself. he is strong enough to keep up.

his heart is strong enough. it has to be.

hades lied to everyone in the underground--hades lied to make hadestown, she thinks

hades...

just this once--

she chooses to believe he didn't lie to her.

(pt. i) (pt. ii) (pt. iii) (pt. v) (epilogue) (askblog)

bonus:

[danwhobrowses]

A Personal Rant before Sword and Shield comes out

I’ve sat idly by for months, tried to weather a few negative responses but given that it’s now 6 days from release and I’m hearing that devs are getting literal death threats I’m going to put my foot down

If you’re already shitting on a game that hasn’t been released yet, you are all juvenile bitches, and I’m about to tell you why.

Before we begin, I’m not saying that you’re not allowed to dislike a game, that happens, but usually it happens after you play a game, not before.

You are viewing this game through a keyhole and judging the room and what you’re seeing is not worthy of this much hate. Let’s start with the big one Dexit: Not as Big as You Think Having No National Dex is of course not ideal, but it doesn’t ruin the game. Let’s Go has no National Dex, all it had was Alola forms and nobody whinged about it. Ruby and Sapphire didn’t have a National Dex until FRLG, and nobody whinged about it. Sun and Moon and Ultra Sun and Moon do not have a National Dex And Nobody Whinged About It Do you know why? Because it’s not actually a big deal. People who complain about it are bandwagoning because ‘Dexit’ is a meme, its name literally parodies an event in current Britain that many people don’t actually want to happen.  Now currently, the anger of Dexit is that Bulbasaur and Squirtle are not in it, which frankly is hilarious because the last wave of bitching was ‘Kanto mons are getting all the new stuff’. You wanna know how many main series versions Bulbasaur and Squirtle have not been in? Seven, only way to get them is trade and event. The other complaint is that there’s ‘only 400′ Pokémon. Remember those days where people were fine with 150? 400 is huge, in fact it’s 3 less than USUM and it’s not accounting for the Gigantamax forms Don’t let headlines fool you either, Sun and Moon had 302 Pokémon, it’s far from the ‘lowest dex number since 2003′. Do your own research with these things. Kalos’ regional dex was 151, BW2 was 300, BW 153, Sinnoh 210, RSE has 386 and GSC had 252 Don’t get me wrong, it smarts that some Pokémon isn’t there, but it’s not a dealbreaker, like let’s be honest here. For a good year and a half all your pokémon are gonna do is sit in an unused cartridge or a PC box, you’re literally whining about the fact that you can’t move your perfect IV Pokémon from one box to another. You could simply just let them stay in Let’s Go or USUM, you don’t have to use Bank or Home on continued subscription for that, so your complaints are only set on the foundation that you feel like you have to continually pay to not transfer your Pokémon, Finally, people act like these Pokémon are deleted forever, they’re not, this is for spacing to make sure this game doesn’t break down from the sheer mass of models and textures it has to maintain in a massive open world space, the local and online camping and battles. Just use the Pokémon that are there! There’s new Pokémon don’t you wanna try those? You can also look at FRLG or Emerald and consider that maybe more Pokémon will get patched in once the game proves to be stable. I don’t think you’ve noticed, but the Nintendo Switch isn’t as powerful as the other consoles out there, sometimes it runs like shit. Believe me on that one, Switch is still in a very buggy development phase. Let’s Go was kept small to test it’s capability and Sword and Shield can’t just fly in and give you all 1000 Pokémon just so one of the ones you want can be in there

You have to be much less obtuse with this, I mean this was a long time coming. You’re gonna have to live with the fact that not every Pokémon ever can be supported on one game alone. Disk, Download, Cartridge and Patch Sizes have limits in Compliance, you can’t just throw everything at it. Waah, the New Pokémon Don’t Look Good They do, you’re being petty. It happens every version, the people dislike the starter evolutions or just one in particular. Remember all the Oshawott hate? This all comes and goes because people have simply gone on the first instinct that ‘new and different is scary and should be shunned’ You’re that Simpsons meme when young Homer accuses Grandpa of not being ‘with it’ I won’t spoil to those who haven’t seen it, but I like the new starters, and some of the new Pokémon will need some growing but not every Pokémon looks good at first glance. If Mr Mime, Hypno or Gastly came out nowadays they’d be crapped on so much for lacking creativity or for looking weird. Look at Drampa as well, thing looks like Falkar from The Neverending Story, when I first saw it I thought it look weird but now I like it. You should offer these things time And actually fall back on past experience, you’re reacting like this isn’t the same thing that happens every version; the dex gets leaked, people whine about the evolutions, people get over it and accept that they overreacted. hIgH QuAlItY aNiMaTiOnS I’ve seen that video, 2 clips and you judge a whole game how classy of you? If you don’t see improvement you’re blind. You can’t shit on a game for keeping the battle animations, you can’t expect every Pokémon to move their own unique way to the exact position of the body part the opponent needs to get hit by, that’s just unrealistic. You’re also failing to equate to the new moves and all the new movesets. You have to ensure that each Pokémon is capable of calling this animation as well. The second clip in that video was Hop and Hau having the same rigging, and once again, that’s not abnormal. Rigging is not easy either, do it wrong and it sticks and deforms texture. There’s nothing wrong with Hop having one animation that matches Hau’s, you’ll probably find that many models actually have similar rigging as previous games. Because it’s not that big of a deal and it saves money, as an example look at Disney they copied hand-drawn motion and stuck a different character on them, Robin Hood’s Little John dances just like (animated, for those too young to know otherwise) Jungle Book’s Baloo The thing you’re also ignoring from that clip is the graphical improvement of Hop compared to Hau, Hau looks like a balloon with a smiley face but Hop’s face has depth and his mouth actually moves like a normal person, his clothes have far more contrast and complexity, but no just zero in on one fighting animation and one rigging that’ll surely be worth abusing a game that’s not even out... B-But Charizard I’ve already explained this before but Charizard is Leon’s main, it’s obviously going to have a Gigantamax, ergo it’s also going to be in the Dex. Does Charizard get a lot? Yes, but the reason is because Charizard is popular. One of the rarest cards is a Charizard Hologram Card, Charizard is one of the first version mascots, it is one of the most recognized Pokémon Ash has in the anime Reality of the matter is that like Pikachu, Charizard is a recognized Pokémon for all ages, it appeals to a demographic that’s not playing In Layman’s Terms: that part is not for you A reality you really need to face. Pokémon is a game for all ages, so elements of the game are not always going to be tailored to your age range. The gimmick of Dynamax and Gigantamax is for merch sales and young children because it’s got an audience there, you can’t expect the Biggest Entertainment Brand in the World to simply shut out a large fraction of its demographic just to appeal 100% to you And again, it’s not a big deal, so there’s a Charizard there, just save a Stone Edge and be done with it, if you hate Charizard so much this’ll be catharsis, but in actuality you’re complaining because it’s something to complain about Kanto are getting Everything That went down like a lead balloon didn’t it? Reminder that the first Gigantamax forms were Galar Pokémon, so you can’t really say that anymore. There are Galar forms from non-Gen I Pokémon too I assure you, but the reason Kanto gets a lot of them is because Kanto is the oldest. Let’s not pretend that other gens don’t get love either Or should I remind you of Mega Ampharos, Scizor, Heracross, Houndoom, Tyranitar, Blaziken, Gardevoir, Gallade, Mawile, Aggron, Medicham, Manectric, Banette, Absol, Garchomp, Lucario, Abomasnow, Steelix, Sceptile, Marshtomp, Sableye, Sharpedo, Camerupt, Altaria, Glalie, Salamence, Metagross, Latias, Latios, Rayquaza, Lopunny, Audino and Diancie? It’s true that the Johto starters could use something, but I don’t think they’re being purposefully ignored, perhaps the right design hasn’t come along. Rather it be done right than poorly wouldn’t you agree? The Devs Should’ve Done <Insert Thing Here> People who say this kinda stuff have no idea how a game is made. I have a First Class Bachelor’s degree in Computer Gaming and Animation Technology and I can tell you that none of the stuff you want them to do is easy. Even getting grass right is a complete hassle. You want small insights you should watch Corridor Crew react to Good and Bad VFX, they tell you about the mechanics of CGI a few times on those vids. This is what annoys me with the prior swipe at the Battle animations and rigging, even with 2 years this is a heavily massive workload and Game Freak have only recently expanded the team that work on Pokémon which makes communication much more widespread and difficult to manage, likewise they are working on other games too they are not just Pokémon, currently their next IP is why Toby Fox was able to do a bit of music for Pokémon, because he’s collaborating with them on another game. The work doesn’t stop, most of these people are overworked and still doing overtime, they bring out a good product and all it gets is ‘but it should have this’, and unless it’s a huge part of the game that’s needed to function then that’s really disrespectful Before you start critiquing on what the people making this game ‘should’ve done’ perhaps you should try to make a game yourself, because it is not easy even for pros, I call back to Toby Fox because creating Undertale took 32 Months to create, that’s 2 years and 8 months for those slow with math, it also took 3 years before it could be ported to Switch because the Engine couldn’t support the platform, Pokémon has less time to do that, greater graphical and animation quality to achieve and more characters to battle, attacks to animate and more songs to compose. Conclusion: You’re All Just Bitter I’ve already seen it happen recently but this group of people senselessly bashing something because of ridiculous demands, expectations or arguments based on a lack of understanding all combine into something I’m simply calling the ‘Bitterness Fandom’. It’s people hating for the sake of hating and trying to bring something down just because it’s been a popular force for so long, and it’s not just Pokémon that’s getting it It’s already been happening to Star Wars. The Last Jedi and Solo were great films but the Bitterness sank its fangs in and act like neither are as good as the original trilogy (like killing Snoke without knowing anything about him and Phasma before she could do anything is any different to killing Sidious and Boba Fett in Jedi or Maul in Phantom Menace and Grievous in Revenge of the Sith), a lack of awareness to reality and the desire to complain for the sake of complaining continues to infect Star Wars. We even have a thing called ‘Star Wars Fatigue’ Star Wars can’t release a film every year because of ‘Fatigue’ but Marvel can release 5 MCU films a year and nobody bats an eye. Those frustrations aside, I refuse to let the Bitterness sink in without me calling them out, because you are not Pokémon Fans. If you were you’d know that having no National Dex isn’t new, you’d know that the graphics have improved and leaks of the game happen every time, you’d know why Charizard is popular and that some features are not intended to be targeted at you Shock and Horror to the heavens above but games can’t do everything And if you’re that naive to think so then you’re clearly not doing your homework So let’s throw out an absolutely WILD suggestion shall we? Let’s decide our opinion on a game After playing it? Because shitting on something you don’t even have hands-on experience with it is a fragile pedestal to put yourself on. If we all think it’s bad then, so be it, but I sincerely doubt that is the case When my copy of Pokémon Sword gets delivered to my house I am going to enjoy it because I will not let petty and incorrect statements sway my feelings and I swear to Arceus if you think the Bitterness will bring down Pokémon that easily then you did not see the queue to the London Poké Center that had been amassing since midnight and was forced to stop taking more people when the doors opened What should matter is how you enjoy the game, play it before you judge it And honestly, don’t send death threats, why we need to tell you that is beyond me, the ones who made these games are people who have worked their asses off day in and day out to provide something you aren’t even going to play because one Pokémon isn’t in it, the irony is not lost on me when I say this but deep into the very bottom of my heart: Grow Up. If you don’t like the game, don’t play it, don’t bother people about it, we don’t need your shit here Enjoy the Game People