#ah. heroes who blame themselves for everything…

[whump-is-love-whump-is-life]

What about a hero whumpee currently captured by the villain whumper, and villain gives them a scar for each person killed by villain or their henchmen {or just non-natural cod} while hero’s there.

Of course, it’s not actually their fault but nevertheless; the hero blames themself for each death and it’s only reinforced by the villain cooing “you deserve it.” right in their ear as they cut each and every scar

[lilithfairen]

How to accuse a work of "wish fulfillment" because it isn't about telling women they need to stay in the kitchen~

I'm going to delve deeper into this pathetic screed the loser head mod of /r/RWBYcritics wrote, because it's so very telling about the way RWBY "critics" view stories that don't blame women for everything~

Let's see, just off the top of my head in instances where characters in Team RWBY were depicted as "wrong" in any way:

Ruby overburdening herself as "the leader".

Weiss not understanding her brother is the result of the same upbringing she went through.

Blake being a member of an extremist group, then abandoning her friends after the fall of Beacon.

Yang's overreliance on letting loose with her Semblance.

Just a few examples, off the top of my head, because the protagonists of this show have a thing called "character development". It's this funny thing where, when a character of a story has flaws, they often work to address or grow out of these flaws. So it's not that RWBY has never depicted Team RWBY as being wrong, it's that RWBY doesn't always depict Team RWBY as being wrong that pisses off this loser.

So it's "wish fulfillment" to have a story where...characters suffer defeat and tragedy, but rather than wallowing in their loss and suffering, they rally themselves and return to the fray, determined to fight for those they love?

I can see that sort of thing being a form of "wish fulfillment" for people who've experienced trauma and depression, in that stories that tell such people that Things Get Better can be invaluable to them. All the more so when these stories feature characters that those people can identify more closely with, perhaps because of gender or sexuality. But I can see the idea of disparagingly referring to such as "wish fulfillment" for the sort of people who don't believe anyone but strong and confident white men can handle such a burden.

Was Ruby told that she was "perfect"? Nope, the specific word was "enough". Ruby felt like she couldn't live up to the burden of leading the fight against Salem, only to be reassured that it would be as much a burden on anyone else's shoulders. This is an interesting thing, because our angry white guy writing this conflates a story saying a woman isn't a complete loser responsible for everything bad that happens with claiming the story is declaring her to be "perfect".

Remember, kids: men are the only ones allowed to protect the ones they care about. Ruby tries to help her uncle fight off a psychotic assassin, unaware of the Semblance he never told her about? What a selfish fucking bitch amirite!

Ah yes, the selfish desire of "not standing around and letting the Grimm be lured to Argus". Why didn't she just fucking walk to Atlas, huh? Or send her friend back to her abusive father? What a selfish fucking bitch amirite!

This is 100% the sort of thing that comes out of the mouth of the kind of man who takes a woman out to an expensive restaurant on a first date, then screams abuse at her because she won't have sex with him afterwards. The attitude of "this man gives her things, how fucking dare this woman not unconditionally obey him in every fucking way".

Again: What a fucking selfish bitch Ruby was to try to help her uncle fight off a psychopathic murderer, huh?

"Why isn't this selfish bitch being punished for being a bitch?"

Yep, the wish fulfillment of "sometimes doing the right thing pays off". I can see how you'd resent this when you're a drooling stan of the authoritarian who decided to leave thousands of people to die at the drop of a hat, because he wanted to be The Hero and only he was allowed to be The Hero because he was a Manly Man Who Mans.

Get out the Anti-Strawman Spray, Batman!

Yep, because we saw that Ruby's plan ultimately did unite the people of Remnant in Vacuo, that means there was literally no panic whatsoever following the announcement! That's how logic works!

The "end point" was Ironwood's original plan before he threw it out the window, because there wasn't really anything wrong with Ironwood's original plan. Get the folks in Mantle to Atlas, evacuate with Atlas. That Ruby and her teammates were forced to work in secret, infiltrate Atlas command, and then seek medical attention for their critically-wounded friend as a result of Ironwood going Full Fascism is obviously all her fault. Bitch bitch bitch etc.

Man, I can think of nothing more despair-inducing than the idea that the Man in Charge doesn't have the one and only possible solution to any problem!

Hope is leaving thousands of people to fucking die, because the white man who wrote this does not identify or sympathize with anyone in Mantle.

Hope is the Man In Charge doing whatever he fucking wants and stupid bitches like Ruby falling in line and accepting their place.

Hope is adamantly clinging to a male authority figure, despite the glaring logical flaws with his plans and the glaring moral flaws he exhibits with every passing second.

But if it's a woman who keeps fighting for the right thing, she's a selfish bitch.

You notice how this screed somehow juggles between "Team RWBY are depicted as if they can do no wrong and always succeed in everything" and "Team RWBY ruins everything and makes everything worse for everyone"? It's a common tactic of fascists, actually; the enemy is both strong and weak at the same time. But why would the white man who idolizes a male military authoritarian and vilifies women, the poor, and minorities utilize fascist rhetorical devices?

The best part about "critics" like this is that RWBY is a story that introduced a plot device and exposited specific limitations to its power in the story, and none of these idiots can wrap their heads around a single part of that.

"When Salem does not do things the Staff has never been claimed to be able to do, that will just be wish fulfillment."

Well, anyway, here's me calling you stupid (and a drooling sexist pig) (and a racist fucko) (and a fascism stan)~

[avaritia-apotheosis]

Nomen Nescio | chapter 1

Out of all of his names, he’s always felt the most comfortable with Danny Fenton. -- Nomen nescio - used to signify an anonymous or unnamed person. Translated from lating, it means "I do not know the name." 5th Installment of the Hey Brother AU

A DPxDC crossover // Read on [AO3]

MASERLIST // Next Chapter → Out of all of his names, he’s always felt the most comfortable with Danny Fenton. It was his identity, who he was and how he viewed himself for a good few centuries. Regardless of how much he’s changed, he’d always believe himself to be Danny Fenton at his core. That the Fentons don’t exist in this universe also means that it’s a handy pseudonym for whenever he wants to remain under radar. Jack Fenton, Mattie Fenton, Jasmin Fenton; all identities he’s assumed in one way or another. Sometimes he’d even parade around as Sam Manson or Tucker Foley. 

(He contemplated going by Vlad Masters for a solid ten seconds before shuddering at the idea. He wanted to remain anonymous, not picked out for having such an obvious villain name.)

After Danny Fenton, he felt most at home with the name al Ghul. It was the name he was given in this life, lovingly chosen by his mother. If it were not for that single fact, he might have discarded himself of the name entirely.

Danyal al Ghul was everything Danny Fenton was not. The prodigal son. The Demon’s Heir. Pride of the League. An accomplished assassin, a proficient killer, the unseen shadow. The name alone cultivated a reputation of fear even without his interference (he blamed Ra’s for that). But it was a name that he’d grown up with. A name his mother chose. A name that gave him a brother. So even if he did not love the name, he still saw some part of himself in it. It was a version of himself he chose to be in this life, for better or for worse.

Wayne was the name that sat heavy and uncertain on his tongue. A name that he did not think of as his own, even when it was offered freely. The name evoked a legacy. Of pioneers, of architects, of doctors, of the forefathers of Gotham in all its smog and glory. Of hope, of justice, of the weak becoming strong to protect those who cannot do so themselves. It was the name of heroes.

And Danny—whether Fenton or al Ghul—was not a hero in this life. In the grand scheme of things, he was barely a hero in the last.

He could be a hero if he wanted to. He had the suit, the powers, and even the backstory. And he was certain worse people than him had turned over a new leaf and decided to pursue the path of righteousness. But the fact of the matter is that Danny didn’t want to.

He’s had that life already. And heroism just didn’t hold the same appeal it once did when he was fourteen and living in a different universe.

But just because he wasn’t a hero in this life, doesn’t mean he’d sit idly by when innocent people are in trouble in front of him.

Shades lowered, scarf firmly wrapped over his nose, and hood up, Danny ripped the emergency doors off the back of a school bus and ushered all the kids out. Just minutes later, a huge chunk of falling debris smashed onto the now empty bus.

Ah, Metropolis. Why did he wanna come here again?

Superman crashed onto the road, leaving a boulder-sized crater into the asphalt. He burst from the rubble unharmed, firing off his laser vision at the giant robot looming in the distance.

Right. It’s because he wanted to see aliens. 

Danny helped the bus driver usher the kids into some nearby safe zone, mostly by making sure there were no stragglers. He kept watch over the battle at the corner of his eye, but paid no mind after Superman bounded into the air, probably leading the robot away from them. 

One of the little kids—maybe a few years younger than Damian—tugged at his sweater. “You were so strong, mister! You just ripped the door right off!”

Danny couldn’t help the grin on his face. He ruffled the kid’s hair. “That’s cuz I eat all my vegetables.”

“Nuh uh! You’ve definitely got super powers or something. Ooh, or you’re an alien like Superman!”

“Cross my heart and hope to die, kid. I’m not an alien or anything.”

Danny scampers off before the rest of the kids start getting ideas. 

He follows the fight as best he could in between aiding in civilian duty, and taking advantage of the chaos to switch up his disguises. It was rare for him to cross paths with a hero when he worked for the League of Shadows, so he was curious at how effective they were in a fight. He’d sifted through the League’s databases when he was younger so he had a basic idea of who the current big names were and their power sets, but it was nothing like watching them battle in real life. 

Superman, surprisingly, kept his distance during the fight. He used his heat vision, cryo-breath, and even resorted to just chucking massive pieces of debris at the robot to keep his distance. Wonderwoman and Green Lantern seem to be doing a lot of the heavy hitting up close, and he thinks he’d seen the Flash zipping around somewhere. 

The robot probably had a heavy stock of kryptonite on it, which means Lex Luthor.

Damn rich people.

The robot fired off two large shells of its weapon. The projectiles flew at high-speeds towards Superman— before suddenly changing course and homing towards…Danny? 

Oh Lex Luthor that bitch. 

Before Danny could even raise his own shields, Superman comes barreling in front of Danny and zipped him away as the shell impacted the earth. Superman let out a low whistle. “Well, that was a close one.”

The rounded shell suddenly popped open, releasing a cloud of green gas. Seconds later, more canisters lodged themselves in the ground around them, covering the intersection in a thick cloud of green smoke. And as if fate didn’t hate Danny enough, a strong wind blew the gas over towards them.

Superman toppled to the ground, doubled-over as he breathed in the gas. Aerosolized kryptonite? How fun.

A couple streets over, Danny starts seeing a bunch of smaller robots roaming around and causing chaos in the streets, further dividing the heroes’ attention.

Danny sighed. “You just had to jinx it, didn’t you?” 

Superman looked at him like he just grew a second head— which hadn’t happened in centuries mind you. Learning how to clone yourself is hard no matter how easy Vlad makes it look. “You need to get out of here,” he shouted between coughs. “It’s dangerous!”

That he actually contemplates leaving Superman here as a hoard of giant spider-robots was enough of a reason to make Danny stay. Those thoughts were the devil talking. And by the devil, he meant Ra’s. “Trust me when I say that you’re probably at the safest place you can be.” Danny slams his palm onto the ground. “By the way, you don’t need air to breathe, right?

“I— well, no, but what are you—?”

A single purposeful tug at his ghostly energy creates a dome of bright green light around them. Those years of solitude gave him enough time to experiment the extent of his powers, both in his ghost form and outside it. One of the very cool things he learned with shields is that he could manipulate the energy and permeability of the ectoplasm in such a way that he could create his very own little vacuum chamber inside. Which meant that he could suck all of the airborne kryptonite out of Superman’s radius. 

There would still be some kryptonite in his system, but at least he won’t be inhaling more of it.

The only downside of all of this is that Danny did have to fortify his own human lungs to be able to keep breathing. He was still technically walking around as a human right now.

“What in the—”

“Oh! Looks like back-up is coming.”

In the distance, the distinct shape of the batwing soars overhead, sending rounds and rounds of ammunition at Luthor’s robot.  There’s an explosion at its front, sending off a chain reaction as both of the machine’s arms are blown off. 

He takes his phone out of his pocket and dials a series of numbers right out of his head. (His phones had a tendency to break, so saving numbers just became too much of a hassle every time he had to get a new one.)

 The call picks up on the second ring. 

 “Hey Bats! Your little superfriend over here got gassed with some kryptonite.” At the corner of his eye, Danny just sees Superman mouth what in the world under his breath. No swearing? Really? Huh, must be the boy scout in him. “He’s safe, but I’d rather you take him off my hand before he starts asking questions.”

(His sharp hearing picks up Superman’s mumbled “I don’t even know what questions to start asking.”)

There’s a brief moment of silence on the other line, before he eventually hears a strangled sigh and a raspy “Copy that, just stay there. Don’t move.”

Danny hangs up and pockets his phone. “Welp, better hang tight Supes, because your knight in shining…kevlar? (I think it’s kevlar) is coming to pick you up soon.” He steps out of the dome he’d created, picking up a fallen metal baseball bat from the ground.

“Wait— ok, putting aside the fact that you somehow have the Batman’s phone number, I am 100% sure he told you to stay put.”

“Yeah, well…” He twirls the bat in his hand, thinking back to that one mobile game he’s been enjoying. “Rules are made to be broken.”

He takes a swing at the nearest spider robot, hard enough to dent the titanium skull. 

***

Ten minutes and thirty-something smashed robots later, Danny flagged down the Justice League to pick up their wayward companion. 

Superman—who begrudgingly stayed put inside the ecto-shield because a) he couldn’t leave, b) even if he could the kryptonite gas just refused to disperse, and c) the League looked like they were wrapping things up soon anyway—breathed a sigh of relief as Flash created a vortex that cleared the air. 

“Thanks, Flash.” And then turning to Danny, he flashed those pretty pearly whites and put out his hand to shake. “And thank you, too, for all your help. Though I don’t think I managed to catch your name there, son.”

Son, son, son. There was a time when Danny was newly born into this world where he flinched at the word, too unused to being called anyone’s son after his parents passed away. 

(At the ripe old age of 92, passing within seconds of the other because Jack and Maddie had been attached at the hip ever since they fell in love. Much to Danny’s surprise, a whole symposium of scientists came to attend his parents’ funeral. He’d always pictured his parents as the weird and kooky scientists no one outside of Amity took seriously. Sure, they revolutionized the entire world’s view of science and the afterlife and essentially found a way to make interdimensional travel possible, but they were his parents.)

(Jack: his dad who drove recklessly but always somehow avoided getting his license revoked, who made a fudge so delicious it could be classified as a sin, and who never failed to be there for Danny whenever he was down.)

(Maddie: his mom who knew a thousand ways to break someone’s bones with just a paperclip, but couldn't cook a single unburned or irradiated meal to save her life, who nurtured Danny’s love of space and helped him build his first flight module.)

(He loves Talia, he really does. She’s his mother, but Maddie and Jack were his mom and dad. Like he was first and foremost Danny Fenton, he has, and always will be, their son.)

Danny doesn’t flinch at the word now. 

It’s one word, and it’ll hold about as much meaning as he lets it.

He kicks the head of his bat off the ground and swings it to rest at his shoulder. “It’s no problem,” he says, completely ignoring Superman’s angling for his own name. “I was getting bored of sightseeing anyway.”

“Sightseeing?” Flash let out a laugh. “You must be fun at parties if your solution to getting bored is smashing robots into bits. Seriously, though, I don’t think I’ve seen you before. New meta?”

Danny tilted his head to the side and shrugged, letting them interpret that answer however they wanted to. It was always fun seeing what people came up with to explain, well, him. 

“So this is your first time in Metropolis, then?” Superman asked, eyes narrowed. Not that Danny was thinking about it, wasn’t Superman’s day job a reporter or something? He could see the gears turning in the other’s mind, pulling out that proverbial red string on the corkboard to piece all his information together. “It’s…not exactly the best first impression of the city, but I’d like to welcome you anyway.”

Danny shook his hand firmly, but didn’t tap into his well of superhuman strength to make a point. “Well, might not be the best but it sure is the most exciting first impression I’ve had. It’s the first superhero fight I’ve seen this close, you know!” He didn’t know how much,if any, Superman already knew about him. And if he was being honest with himself, he didn’t really know whether he cared if Superman investigated him or not.

It could go either way. Dany wasn’t a threat to Superman, and there really isn’t anything that Superman has that Danny would go to great lengths to fight for. Bruce had already given his permission to see Damian whenever he wanted. And with Danny’s own…let’s say semi-calculated heart-to-heart, Bruce was unlikely to change his mind about Danny anytime soon.

He’s learned a lot about public personas since his debut days as Phantom. Bruce was a sentimental person to the core. The paradigm of Danny being some lost, wayward child that was hesitant, but willing, to someday join the family was a hope too alluring to discard so easily.

(Danny didn’t lie when he told Bruce he was bad at planning in advance. But just because Danny’s bad at long-term plans, it doesn’t mean that he can’t capitalize and build on an advantage when he sees one. Call it the al Ghul in him. The Wayne in him, even.)

“Really?” Superman pressed. “I would’ve thought you’d seen plenty in Gotham.” “A Gothamite?” Flash perked, face suddenly inches away from Danny’s to get a closer look. Danny barely resists the urge to pat his face to check if his disguise was still on. “So he’s one of B’s kids? Strange, I don’t recognize this one. Unless he got a new one— which, y’know, is kinda par for the course here. But really where does he keep finding all of these kids?”

“I don’t find them. They find me.”

Flash nearly jumps ten feet in the air at the sound of Batman’s voice coming from behind him. “Jesus christ, Bats! Where did you come from?” 

Danny raised an eyebrow and pointed to the Batwing that’s been hovering above the skyline a little ways away from them. “You seriously didn’t see the giant fighter jet over there?”

“Well clearly not!”

Batman turns to Superman, business as usual. “Are you alright? Any lingering effects?”

“Oh just some weakness but it’ll be gone in a jiff. I got a lot of help from your…friend? Friend, over here.”

Batman grunts, looking Danny up and down for any injuries. There were none, of course. “I didn’t expect you to be here.”

Danny set the bat down on the ground, leaning his weight against it. “Got bored. Got curious. You know how I am when I’m curious.”

“Does your mother know that you’re here?”

Danny’s eyes widened. “She told you?”

Talia specifically requested that Danny not be sent on any missions in or near cities claimed by heroes. Specifically heroes with a strong connection to the Justice League. More than likely it was to deter Batman from finding out their connection to each other until the time was right, but when it comes to Talia, one could hardly say. 

Batman raised a brow. “So does she?”

“Of course she does. She always knows where I am even when I don’t tell her. Probably had me microchipped or something, I don’t know.”

Superman and Flash sent very concerned looks towards them. Danny waved off their concerns with a laugh. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding. She doesn’t do that.” 

At least, Danny hoped Talia didn’t do that. There was an unnervingly high likelihood that Talia would have placed a tracker on him at some point, but Danny would rather not think about the possibility. Ignorance is its own form of bliss after all. 

Flash cups a hand to the side of his mouth and whispers to Superman. “I really feel like we’re missing out on something over here.”

Batman grunts again. He inclines his head at Danny. “Would you care to introduce yourself?”

Which brings Danny back to the dilemma he’s had since his rebirth: what name to go by. That’s the problem with having too many names; they can be attached to various distinct and overlapping identities that it’s difficult to choose which one is the best to go by. 

It’s nice to know that Batman wouldn’t dispute him if Danny decided to give a fake name.

Wayne was an immediate no go. He could already see it now: the shock, the surprise, the curiosity, and next thing you know within twenty-four hours the whole Justice League is knocking at his door to learn more about Batman’s new kid. Even if the sound of Danny Wayne didn’t make him uneasy, he still wouldn’t go for it. Yeah, no thanks.

Al Ghul would probably be closer to the truth, but it was a dangerous option to make. The League of Shadows were still a formidable group with a lot of enemies from both sides of the moral spectrum, and Danyal al Ghul had a reputation that would mark him as an enemy on sight, Bat or no Bat.

Which left Fenton as the safest option. It was an unknown name with no added complications. Hell, he didn’t even have to go by Danny if he still wanted some anonymity.

But…

It was one thing to use the name with strangers he’d never see again. Giving that name to people that were connected to him to some degree felt…exposing. He’s never even shared that name with Damian, and he’s closest to Damian out of anyone. 

Which left one option. 

Just fucking with them.

Danny gives an exaggerated bow. “The name’s Nathaniel Edward Mortimer Olysseus, at your service.” He winks. “Well, not for much longer now, anyway.” 

And then he drops a smoke bomb, leaving behind a confused Flash, and an equally amused Batman and Superman.

***

OMAKE:

It’s later on when The Flash is recounting the story to Wonder Woman—and by the small chuckle she gave at the name—did Flash realize the mystery man’s trick.

“Olysseus is one of the many variations of the Greek hero Odysseus,” Diana explained. 

Nathaniel Edward Mortimer Olysseus.

N.E.M.O.

Nobody.

Flash buried his face in his hands. “Can’t believe I fell for that. Should’ve known he wouldn’t say his actual name.”

Superman shrugged. “What can you expect? He’s a Bat.”

[ppg-villains-defense-lawyer]

What are your opinions on each Gangreen Gang episode (Buttercrush, Telephonies, Schoolhouse Rocked, Slave the Day, Power Lunch, Bang For Your Buck, Aspirations)?

Honestly, I enjoyed all of them! There's not a single bad Gangreen Gang episode. But to break it down further:

Buttercrush: Ah yes, the episode that basically created the Ace X Buttercup ship (and led to many childhood crushes on our favorite green gangster).

A good episode overall. It really shows off Ace's manipulative side, perceptiveness, and charisma. Yes there are Unfortunate Implications TM if you want to read into it, but I always just saw it as Ace seeing an opportunity to both get the PPG to stop beating up him and his friends, and seeing a chance to have a superhuman on his side. Though I could see a future where he and Buttercup could genuinely get along and become friends, when they're both adults and he's not actively committing crimes.

Telephonies: Peak "boys will be boys" behavior in a good way... or a funny way, at least. I mean, who else would be stupid enough to prank both Mojo Jojo and HIM but smart enough to actually make it work? I honestly can't think of another villain that could and would pull off those kinds of shenanigans (Also the scene with the Professor... someone please sit this man down and warn him about phone and internet scams. He's the type of guy who would receive an email from a "Nigerian prince" asking for money and believe it. Bless him)

Schoolhouse Rocked: Another hilarious episode that also raises some important questions. Like, before Jack Wednesday, did nobody notice that the Gang didn't go to school? Or, did they just not care? And why were a bunch of teenagers put in a kindergarten class? Was it because they genuinely never been to school before and Jack was making them start at the very beginning, or because Pokey Oaks Kindergarten is the only school in Townsville? And if that's true, then where do all the older kids go who are just regular citizens-

Okay, I'm getting off topic. But yes, it's ridiculous and fun and even a little sad when you read into everything. We get to hear some of Arturo's backstory, we get to see the gang be massive trolls and menaces to everyone around them, it's great.

Slave the Day: Rewatching this episode makes me feel a bit sorry for Big Billy. As funny as the "we thought you were dead" meme is, it's clear that Billy doesn't feel loved or cared about, even within the gang. And... he really isn't, aside from maybe Grubber. He comforted him at least. Like, he was so shocked that the girls did the bare minimum of being superheroes and saved his life that he was ready to leave all his friends behind for good and dedicate his life to serving them.

Though I will say I don't think Ace and the others ever genuinely believed Billy was dead. I don't think they're that careless. Imo it was more of a joke and they just assumed he got scared and ran off or the girls caught him and threw him in jail. But either way, it's clear they weren't that worried and if he ever did get separated from the gang he'd pretty much be on his own.

Also, the girls were definitely in the wrong for beating up Billy at the end of the episode for turning on them. He admitted what he did was wrong, he was sorry, and he changed his mind at the end anyway and saved them. Idk, that part never sat right with me and really shows that the girls have a very rigid view on their roles as crime fighters, seeing violence not simply as a method to defend themselves and others but as a just punishment in of itself. And to a point you can't really blame them; they're only five and encouraged to use violence by pretty much everyone around them, even when it's unnecessary. I hope they gain more of a nuanced perspective as they get older and realize that's not a good way to be a hero.

Power Lunch: I enjoyed seeing which powers each of the gang got! I know it's officially tied to whatever food they were eating when they got hit with the girls' laser vision, but if you want to analyze it as revealing a part of who they are I think you could.

You could say Ace gets ice powers because he tends to act cold and mean, even to those closest to him. Snake gets super elasticity both because he's naturally flexible but also because he's often forced to bend to the will of others, especially Ace. Arturo gets super speed because he's spent years learning to be the fastest as a way to make up for being the smallest, Big Billy is a rock because he's, well, big, but also because he can be quite stubborn when he wants to be (ex. him insisting to "help" constantly in Slave the Day). Grubber gets super sonic burps because he often finds other ways to make his presence be felt and felt loudly despite being mostly voiceless; whether it's through his grossness, his talents with poker and music, even his voice acting skills, etc.

Bang For Your Buck: This is probably the one I rewatch the least, but there's still a lot of great comedy in there. I enjoyed seeing the juxtaposition of the girls trying to find genuine ways to earn the money next to the gang doing what the gang does best (aka robbing little kids and old ladies). The running gag of Ace being oblivious to obvious solutions felt slightly out of character, but I enjoyed it nonetheless. Especially watching the rest of the gang notice what he wasn't and being too scared to point it out.

I will say that I think it would've been better if at the end, the gang was able to buy the Destructo-Ray, got all geared up to use it to take over Townsville (or more likely, just blow up random shit for fun) only for them to find out that it was actually a snow cone machine when they tried to use it and they basically wasted all their money. Idk, the ending with the mayor felt a bit random and pointless.

Aspirations: Controversial but this is probably my favorite Gangreen Gang episode if I had to pick. We get to see the boys be both competent thieves and badasses and we get to see a softer, more vulnerable side to them through Sedusa, even if that vulnerable side is only revealed through manipulation. We see that they are capable of being scarily competent under the right conditions, and are desperate for love and basically anyone telling them they aren't worthless. I also headcanon that this was a huge turning point for them and made them decide to turn their lives around, but also fractured their ability to trust any outsiders for years onward, Ace especially.

I also really like the references to Buttercrush because yeah, what Sedusa is doing to the gang isn't that much different from what Ace did to Buttercup. You could argue that Ace's reasons were more defensive while Sedusa was actively seeking out the gang to use and I think there's some truth to that. But the nitty gritty of it is the same: manipulating someone younger and less experienced for the sake of power and personal safety.

[forever-fan]

A little note before I add on to this: I love Doctor Who so much! My parents watched it all the time before Jodie became the Doctor. It was the poor writing that caused my family to move away from it. Still, a lot of good memories are connected to the show.

The Justice League took every measure and precaution. The powerhouse fighters were up front, flanked by magicians. Batman had spent the past two hours vigorously planning. If necessary, if everything went to absolute shit, he would press a button, and the entire Watchtower would self-destruct, hopefully killing whatever lay within the Pandorica.

If that failed, a signal had already been sent out to every ally in the galaxy. Everyone knew what was about to happen. Everyone was prepared to die if it meant they could get rid of the being that rested inside the Pandorica.

What Batman had failed to account for was a rift opening and a robed figure stepping out. Diana gasped and raised her sword against the man.

"Kronos! You are not welcome here!" she shouted.

The titan simply smiled, "Diana, I am here to cause no trouble. In fact, I am here to stop you and your time traveling friends from causing trouble."

Diana glared at Kronos and asked, "Do you know what lays within?"

Kronos looked where Diana was gesturing and his smile got wider, "Oh, yes! He's been in there for quite a while. He'll probably wish to stretch his legs again. Plus, he is right on time, just as I had planned."

Kronos held up a pocket watch and showed it to the JL. As the League glanced at the ticking watch, they heard a hiss come from the Pandorica. It was opening.

They all waited with terrified, bated breath. The youngest heroes of the group seemed to be shaking as they readied themselves. Diana and Superman were at the front when they saw the box finally fully open.

Seated in a chair was a young man with black hair. His eyes were closed and he looked peaceful in his assumed slumber. He seemed... oddly human. But, how could a mere human be responsible for the death of billions of galaxies?

Suddenly, the man's eyes shot open and the restraints keeping him in the chair undid themselves with a click. He silently studied the people in front of him. The mystery man rubbed his wrists before standing.

The Justice League raised their weapons. Before Superman could get a word out, Kronos spoke.

"Hello again, Phantom. I haven't seen you in quite the minute."

'Phantom' turned to face Kronos. He smirked upon spotting the titan, before rolling his eyes, "Yeah? It may have only been a minute for you, old man, but it was thousands of years for me. They put me in the Pandorica while it was still buried under stonehenge. It was not a pleasing stay, and I will not be leaving a five star review."

Kronos laughed, "Ah, I see you still have your humor."

'Phantom' raised an eyebrow and stated plainly, "I did not have much else to do while trapped in there. Say, can I ask where Ellie is? She said she'd look after me."

'Phantom' scanned the Justice League, as if trying to pic out one specific person in the crowd. Diana took the chance to catch his attention. She stepped forward and asked, "Are you the being that is bathed in the blood of many civilizations?"

The man glanced at the Pandorica before saying, "Well is sure seems that way, now doesn't it? Of course, if you ask me, half of them weren't very civilized and the other half were pretty evil. Don't get me started on the Cyber Men. I hate the Cyber Men. Daleks too. They all well deserved the destruction they faced."

Trickster smiled before continuing on with his explanation, "Also, sometimes people blame me for things I never did. Witnessing things does not automatically make me the cause. For example, the destruction of Krypton was not my fault. I didn't do anything!

"I suppose that is where people begin complaining. They want me to do and act and save everyone. They just never understand that some things are fixed points in the time stream and to change those fixed points is to change reality itself. We do not want reality to change."

Superman looked pissed then, "You could have saved my planet, and you chose not to!"

The warrior pointed at Superman, "See! Always blaming me cause I did nothing. Once again, fixed points. I couldn't change anything. Anyways, you have a pretty good life, Clark Kent, so don't go being mad at me about it."

Batman was then prompted to ask in a dark voice, "You know his name? Who are you?"

The man smiled wider than before, "I'm glad you asked, Bruce Wayne. I'm the Phantom, though I have had many other names. The Norse knew me as Loki. The Greeks called me Thanatos and my sister Eris. I am the one and only Time Lord. I travel through time and fix problems. Of course, sometimes I am not allowed to intervene. Clockwork forbids me from messing with fixed points."

When the Phantom said 'Clockwork' he gestured at Kronos. Besides that, the speech made one question enter Diana's mind.

"You call yourself the phantom. There are many phantoms. You are the phantom, who?"

"Exactly."

Danny is The Doctor (Dr Who)

So! I've been on a Dr Who High for a little while now, and I thought this idea up.

Danny, as the apprentice to Clockwork, has the ability to traverse Time, and his can use his own Powers to traverse Space.

(He is not at the same level of Time Manipulation as Clockwork, but he is still very good at it. Less of a Time Master, and more of a Time Lord if you will)

So, after his family dies and he is left alone for his Immortal Life, he gets bored. Taking a Cue from Ellie and her whole Exploration Obsession, while also indulging in his own Space Obsession, Danny decides to explore Space and Time to his heart's content. (Maybe Ellie is his Companion?)

He travels the Universe, visiting different planets, witnessing historical events, and sometimes even Helping wherever he can. He is still a Protector Spirit after all.

He doesn't use his powers much these days, in fact he has mostly locked them away in favor of using his own custom built Inventions to get any task done. He is the son of Mad Scientists after all, and he likes to Own It.

Danny becomes known across the Universe in the same way that the Doctor is. To some he is a Savior, a Healer, a Wiseman. To others he is a Demon, a Trickster, a Warrior.

Danny becomes the Boogeyman of the Universe, so it's no surprise that one day someone tries to contain him, to keep him Locked Up so he can never interfere with the Universe again. To do so, they build a Device named, The Pandorica.

(Yup, I'm using that little thing in this)

Danny is trapped within the Pandorica, mulling over the Irony of being trapped by a Device named after one of his friends, for Eons. He is completely and utterly trapped.

Sealed Away, waiting for the day when someone will set him free.

...

Now imagine this.

The JLA has just confiscated an extremely Old and Extremely Magical Box from an Alien Cult, who were proclaiming that they would use the Pandorica Warrior to fell their greatest foe.

They call in Constantine to explain what it is, and just imagine the Doctors description of the Pandorica Scene coming him him.

"This is the Pandorica, an Ancient Magical Prison designed to hold the worst of all bad guys." Started Constantine.

"Why was it made?" Asked Superman.

"There was a Goblin, or a Trickster. Or a Warrior." Constantine explained as he paced a circle around the Box in front of them, "A nameless, terrible thing. Soaked in the blood of a Billion Galaxies. The most feared being in all the cosmos."

He took a closer look at the box and Continued. "And nothing could stop it, or hold it, or reason with it. One day it would just drop out of the sky and tear down your world."

He paused and took a deep breath, "Or at least that's how the Story goes, probably why those cultists wanted it so bad. The greatest Warrior in existence on their side? It would be an instant win button."

"Is it possible to open it?" Asked Batman.

"Easily, anybody can break into a Prison. I just want to know what we'll find first."

Zatanna interrupted, "Won't need to wait long, it's already opening. Layers and Layers of Magical Barriers are dispersing as we speak. That Cult knew what they were doing, it's going to open soon. Very soon."

The Box in front of them shuddered a little, and they tensed. They waited for a few moments to see if it would do anything, but eventually they realized it was probably just a side effect of the barriers falling.

"How soon can we expect it to open?" Asked Batman, still tense.

Constantine replied this time, "From what I can tell, maybe 2 hours at most. So you have that much time to prepare to meet the Universes most feared Individual."

...

Just thought of this while I was binging Dr Who videos on Tiktok and thought, "this would be cool as a dpxdc idea"

Here is the Video that inspired me, give it a watch

[reilliane]

Withering ✤ 4NEMO

A/N: [cough] it's officially here - welcome! withering >:) ready to be thrown into childhood angst? let's go!

✤ "This indicates a dialogue in flashback."

Read: Prelude to Withering - Fleur - Epilogue

Words: 13k

Fairytales, an invitation to a whole other world.

Those collections, stacked and compiled in parchment are what keeps you up at night. It’s a miracle that your eyes haven’t gone bad what with the number of times you’d read them even when the lights are out.

Can you be blamed?

In an orphanage, where a ‘mother’s’ attention cannot linger on a single child for so long, what else is there to accompany you but the fantasies in a book?

For as long as you can remember, the twins have been a part of your growing years. It didn’t start off with a nice footing, but not everything starts off well, doesn’t it?

What matters most is the journey that is shared ahead.

You’re delighted to say that the venture is a one of a kind—a wonderful one.

Oh, if only it stayed that way.

Kaeya is the first one to depart your splendid fairytale, the boy older by a couple of years, the one who had nothing but an array of tricks up his sleeve.

He may be infuriating to be around with and he may often steal your snacks away, but he’s the best older brother figure—the only brother figure—you can ask for.

Ah, woe, for he was as transient as a passing traveler who aided a hero.

Promises entwined by pinkies are left empty, forgotten along with the light of the setting sun as he’s whisked away in a black [carriage] vehicle.

Though he had gotten a brother that day, one with hair and eyes as pretty as fires and rubies, he always said you will be his first ever sibling.

He’s always been sappy, that Kaeya. Sometimes it is too much, but nowadays you wish you can see him again if it establishes the chance to chat in retrospect of long ago.

With his departure, however, comes the arrival of a pair of boys you didn’t expect to be so fond of. It had been a terrible meeting, but you believe that if it didn’t happen, if you weren’t feeling so lonely in the orphanage and thus ran away… you wouldn’t have met them, then.

Enclosed in a world of your own, within the playground you used to frequent with Kaeya ever since you were maybe three, you remember whimpering atop the slide.

You weren’t particularly loud and you were certain that there wasn’t anyone, but all of a sudden you had been pushed off the slide.

A brusque shove that was, one that resulted in scrapped knees and a damaged pride.

Looking back, you can only wince when you recall being reduced to twice the number of tears you’ve been pouring. It had been a vulnerable moment of yours—yet it still ended up being a time that grew to be one of the most memorable, nevertheless.

The noises and shouts were scary, so you rushed to hide in one of the colored tubes in an attempt to salvage what’s left of your dignity. And maybe continue your tears in peace.

But the universe hadn’t planned for that. Not at all.

“I said I was sorry, didn’t I? Stop cry—ow!”

Bearing the same face, eyes, hair—even their voices are the same. They’re identical twins.

So similar.

“That’s no apology!” chided one, “Sorry about him. You can play with us if you want!”

“What?!”

Yet coincidentally different at the same time.

It’s like looking into a crystal pond, or a magical mirror. You have been captured by fascination at first glance that your tears have stopped.

You’ve never seen twins before—how can it be possible, for them to act as though they are one, but are actually split into two?

“What’s a better way to say you’re sorry then, hm?”

They bickered back and forth, adding kindling to an already growing fire, but as young as you were back then—you could tell that they didn’t really hate one another.

Somehow, they resurface the memory of Kaeya and how he’d engage in harmless squabbles with you.

Trembling lips and muffled sniffles took their attention, quick to defuse whatever argument they were having, and started to introduce themselves. One less eager than the other.

“I’m Venti, that’s—hey come on.”

A radiant stare, you’d describe it as sparkly then.

“Zephyrus.” Then came a much more mellow shine, yet brilliant all the same. “Just call me Zeph.”

They weren’t the sun and the moon, those two.

No, they’re both a single star, bedazzling in their own way. One does not and never outshine the other, they attune and coalesce as a singularity with such perfection that sometimes, you forget that there are two of them.

That day, for the first time, you’ve befriended children your age. Those at the orphanage always deemed you too eccentric or mischievous, so ever since Kaeya left, you tend to yourself alone. It isn’t a problem, but you can’t deny the loneliness.

The twins’ arrival eased said lonesomeness, but you don’t see them again after that fateful day. At least not until a year later, when the pages elapsed into a brand new chapter in your little fairytale.

“Congratulations on finally getting adopted, cookie.”

You were seven when he returned, that lopsided smirk still beheld by his visibly older visage. His hair was longer and for some reason, one of his eyes were bandaged, but he was still Kaeya, and he came with a pack of cookies.

The same brand he used to steal under your pillow when you were four.

Try as you may to hold a grudge, it was impossible—not when someone was about to take you in and Kaeya finally appeared after so long.

“You didn’t come visit.”

“Aha, my bad, my bad. It turns out that we live so far from the orphanage,” oh how you wish to relive the feeling of him ruffling your already messy hair. “But hey, I’m here now, aren’t I? Are you sending me off?”

“No.”

What you’d give to see the brother figure who knew and held you at your worst.

“Kaeya,”

“Will I see you again?”

Until the present day, you think of his possible whereabouts, but sometimes people just don’t want to be found.

“Why not, cookie?”

And you eventually learned to accept that.

It was a difficult feat, for Kaeya was such a figure in your childhood, but you managed to pull through. Besides, it wasn’t like he dropped off the face of the earth. A text or two drops in your inbox when you least expect it.

They are filled with the same, empty promises of a reunion, but you learned not to care as much as you initially did—Kaeya had always been like that.

And so came his final leave, never will he show up inked in the pages of your tale again. With the surcease of the first few chapters is the departure of your very first friend.

That’s fine—after all, weren’t some people meant to be deciduous?

They come and go, adding meanings that lasts the entirety of the book’s plot. Perhaps Kaeya is just the same… even if you refused to accept it in the beginning.

But maybe you simply thought of him as such to cope with the fact that not once had he ever appeared again. It was only letters in a screen, it wasn’t him.

And so, you continue to saunter about your tale.

A new chapter, a new premise, a new beginning.

A new family.

And, excitingly enough, a new place to live in!

The house was nothing like the ones you’ve read and seen in picture books. Not in Cinderella’s story nor Rapunzel’s, no, it appeared more like the castles where they got their happily ever afters.

You remembered thinking if you jumped several chapters ahead—surely, you weren’t supposed to live at a pretty castle so quickly, right? Ah, but you were young and were a dreamer.

Fairytales were called as such for they were imageries of a dreaming writer.

You were not a princess-to-be. Or so you thought.

You were just a child who refused the growing straits of the world, locked in a world of her own. Perhaps if you had chosen to wake up earlier from your petty phantasm, reality wouldn’t hurt as much as it does now.

Sure, there had been some cushion to soften the impact of falling into the real world, but your point still stands.

Even when multiple crucibles have befallen when you were a child, you remained an optimistic dreamer.

“Father!”

The idea of having a father—a parental figure that hopefully pays attention—was comforting.

Though there weren’t many descriptions and narrations of parents in the protagonists of the stories, they always end up having someone to rely on in the end.

Maybe, you thought then, the one who adopted you would be that pillar of support?

“No.”

Yes, no.

“No need to call me father.”

You couldn’t understand why he told you that it wasn’t necessary to refer to him as one—after all, wasn’t he your dad?

He looked the part, he even looked like a modern king! Adorned in a navy suit, oh, how you could imagine the crown atop his head and the scepter on the other!

His office would be decorated with elements of antiquity, quill pens, scrolls, banners… and the minty scent will instead be one of woody musk and parchment. Granted, even without imagination, the whole room looked as if it was out of a modern fairytale, you simply could not help but envision everything in an older fashion.

“Are you sure she’s the sharpest tool in the shed?”

“Certainly, sir,” assured a woman at his side, his [page] secretary. “Personally recommended, as well.”

You didn’t know what that saying meant then—you weren’t a tool as far as you were aware, but you did do well in the monthly tests the orphanage hands out.

Golden stars adorned the back of your notebooks and it was something you weren’t shy of showing!

“Alright, then.”

Excitement was meant to be felt.

Weren’t you about to greet the parent you’ve been hoping to have ever since you figured out what the word ‘orphan’ means?

Kaeya was indisputably glad when he saw the family who took him in—and he was smiling when he left. You were the same. You finally fulfilled one of your early dreams! You have a parent.

You have a home.

“Hello there, [Name].” though his smile was genuine, it didn’t reach his eyes. “Welcome home.”

Home—is it truly a home?

It’s more than what an orphan could ask for, that’s for sure.

Although it doesn’t seem like one at all [a home]. You’ve read about this in books, what’s the tale again? The Little Mermaid? No, Cinderella? That sounds more likely.

Ah! But Cinderella lived in a house where she was unwanted, living only to serve as a maid, whereas you were tended to your every whim. With a servant at your beck and call, and sweets to eat whenever you so desire. It needn’t be said that you’ve taken advantage of the latter.

Sweets!

But oh, you realized one day however, as you were eating a cookie in a room that was thrice as big as the one you had in the orphanage. There’s no one to share it with.

But nevertheless, they are good things—blessings, privileges that not all have the luxury to claim.

You’ve been promised leisure, all for a single duty in exchange; to take over the seat of chief executive officer when you’re right of age and to merge with a business partner.

You did not know what that entailed for you weren’t even at the appropriate age to discuss ‘diplomatic affairs’, but someone said that a whole life was planned ahead, jotted in notes and pinned in boards for you to view and embed in your mind.

It sounded magical, for to merge with another business implied the need for marriage.

‘Was it the happy ending those princesses got? Marriage, is that the word?’ Yes.

Contracts were feasible, but for some reason, a ‘tying-the-knot’ sort of action is preferred by current head of both companies.

They’re so old-fashioned. Now, you’re rather perturbed by it, but when you were just a child confined in her faux world, it was heavenly. [And later stifling].

Because marriage… does it not lead to a happy ending… most of the time?

You should be happy. You’ve seen photos of the boy you’ll soon call husband—though you’ve never really met him face to face. He was older, around Kaeya’s age, maybe. Blond with pretty blue eyes, like Cinderella!

In front of the huge mirror in your room, dressed in frills and ribbons that you asked for and received without a moment’s delay, you were a soon-to-be princess. Sometimes a maid would indulge in your play and even place a crown on your head and play tea party.

By the end of the day, that crown would lay askew and would find itself among the rest of the toys you were bought—but sun after sun, it was almost like you could still feel its weight.

It was the weight of responsibility—but such a fact remained unknown years ago.

Yes, perhaps your glorious father—you heard he rules over a kingdom [company]!—may not be as attentive to your whims and everything, but you were vowed an ending in which it would reflect the ones you’ve dreamt of.

In a decade and years’ time, you would be the princess you sought yourself to be.

Oh how you can laugh. It isn’t wrong to dream, per se—for little girls do dream of bejeweled crowns, pretty gowns, and a prince charming.

But if you are to say something to your seven-year-old self, it would be to stop indulging in hopeless fantasies… even if it was difficult to do so. [It was in a child’s nature to think of the impossible].

Truth be told, albeit you were a child, the logistics and intended plan for your whole life made it impossible to remain naïve even if you were trying to.

Affection may not be your father’s strong suit, but he was kind and he never failed to be munificent. That said, he was stern in your upbringing, meticulous down to the tee. He made sure that you were aware of what you were meant to do when the time came.

Who you were meant to be.

And the more you were exposed to these responsibilities- these prides, and sensibilities, no matter the age… the less inclined you were to be in the lull of a fantasy.

That was until you were officially allowed to go to school… and so, your worlds collided for the second time.

“Haaaah!” they were just as surprised as you were and to be honest, you didn’t know if they even remembered you—a solid year or two had passed.

But after your pretty teacher told you to go pick a colored table you liked—there were plenty; red, blue, violet, yellow, and green—one of them was already beckoning you over. Bright, he was still bright and beaming that he put the yellow paint of the table he’s at to shame.

“[Name], here, here, come sit here!”

Ah, so they did remember you.

There were no other children at the mansion of your father—despite him saying that what’s his are yours, you still feel a bit reluctant to do so—which means there was no one to entertain and play with you.

Except for some maids and servants, of course, but it wasn’t like they could just drop their obligations and responsibilities to play dolls with you.

Venti was more than welcoming to your arrival, erupting into excited blabbers about miraculously becoming classmates after having not seen each other in so long. He talked as if you were close—which, in truth, wasn’t really the case.

You had only met once the year prior.

“Fate’s—um, design! Don’t you think?”

Zephyr was pragmatic for his age, scoffing at the fatuous idea of his twin chalking it up to fate that you ended up being a part of their class.

“That sounds silly.” He chided.

Long, long ago, you were offended by what he said—there was nothing wrong with dreaming and choosing to believe in fate, right?

There was something indescribably beautiful in such a concept that eight-year-old you were more than peeved about his answer.

Yet, in the present, you just wish that you could’ve been more realistic like him. Alas.

Those twins may be each other’s parallel—and you may have unexpectedly cut in their life without warning, but the match wasn’t particularly awful. In fact, you got along with them well. Terribly well.

Zephyr may be rough on the edges and was marginally a bully but Venti always was there to keep in check with a giggle and a harmless knock to the head.

The latter always mentioned that the behavior stemmed from their frequent clashes with their cousin who lived in the countryside.

You never met that cousin—not until years later—but if Zephyr’s attitude was told to be almost similar to that relative of theirs, then they’re without a doubt a rowdy bunch.

It wasn’t difficult to overlook the common jibes given that he didn’t mean to be rude, and besides, you three were mere children back then who only knew how to have fun.

There were times when scuffles happen, of course, such as when Venti chose to steal your [c] crayon and you almost cried.

His twin—ever the mischief himself, too—told you to simply do the same, so you did, and stole all of Venti’s crayons, leaving only the ugly brown one in the box. You had a good laugh at the expense of your cheeks being pinched until they were as red as apples.

That, and the secretary of your father had to be called to the principal’s office because that tiny scuffle ended up being a tear-jerking argument.

For some reason, the principal apologized on Venti’s behalf, saying that it wouldn’t have started if the ‘troublemaker simply stayed put’.

You learned something that day after wondering why it was only your guardian who showed up.

The twins’ parents were working overseas, so they were being cared for by a different person—you heard it was their aunt. But she couldn’t go since she was hospitalized.

The principal mentioned that it was the lack of proper ‘guidance’ that led to Venti’s trouble-seeking nature, something that Zephyr thrashed around for in denial. He said it wasn’t true, and that the both of them have always been pesky troubles even before their parents went abroad.

You could tell back then that the principal wasn’t having it, though.

You later understood why; and it was because the pair have pulled a devious prank on said principal. Understandable.

In the end, much to your surprise, the twins weren’t the least bit irked—perhaps a little while ago, but that was in the moment itself—, saying that they were used to the treatment. They tell you about their wonderful aunt, however, and said that she’s a godsent angel for them.

She intrigued you, so it was unfortunate that you couldn’t meet her a lot of times.

The first time you did was at the end of the year during the accepting of certificates for a student’s job well done. She was practically glowing, incapable of wearing a frown and the way she carried herself was so, so much like a—

“Pretty princess!” your guardian could only smile in secondhand embarrassment as that woman stared, pretty eyes blinking in recognition.

Zephyr choked and Venti grinned. He was mirroring your enthusiasm and all but squealed, “I know right!? Auntie Gui is the best!”

How was it possible for someone so perfect to be in this world? She was everything you were striving to be that you found yourself copying most of her mannerisms.

It was only a matter of time until you learn of ‘noble etiquette’ as she certainly did!

Albeit it was a childish thing to do that would annoy most at worst, but for that cherubic woman, she was only flattered.

You couldn’t remember much of her or how she even looked like, but it was her words that struck a chord within; they were nothing short of inspiring. It needn’t be said, too, but it was obvious that the brothers were truly fond of her, as well.

“If you believe and put your heart into it, I’m sure whatever you dream of will come true.”

What if you wished to find happiness? Getting married to a stranger [prince] sounded magical and terrifying at the same time.

You were getting old enough to understand that maybe… maybe, you would not feel that fairytale spark when you meet him for the first time like in those books and movies. What happens then? You would be robbed of a happy tale.

Confined in an ending that was chosen by fate.

All of a sudden, the idea of an arranged marriage was no longer appealing—and you began to show more reluctance.

Of course, you hid it to the best of your abilities. But the fact remains that you were but a child, still [one who has turned nine] and children were translucent like glass.

In the midst of the adults whose experiences have shaped them to be shrewd and discerning, you were no match under their scrutiny.

Mainly, your father’s.

You felt bad. Really.

It wasn’t in your intention to think so heavily of a future yet to come, but ignoring it otherwise was impossible. The moment you arrived in that stellar mansion, your story had already been written and planned ahead.

One should be happy that your life was so carefully arranged. It meant absolutely no worries about which path to take and which option to choose, but for some reason, it was so… stifling.

Were fairytales meant to be like that?

The question stayed in the headspace for a long amount of time, lasting the coming years and creeping in when you lost yourself in a reverie.

If those princesses knew that their lives were planned, would they feel trapped?

One time, you were playing dodgeball with the whole class and you made the mistake of seeing an older pair of students walking together in the path by the courtyard.

Yeah, you were hit by a ball that day and had a rather painful bump since your fall was nothing short of excruciating—but it was nothing too serious.

Funnily enough, it was Zephyr who had hit you and of course, being Zephyr, chided you for daydreaming instead of giving an apology. It only took a good smack at the back from his older brother to get him to say ‘sorry’, though, even when you insisted that it was truly your fault.

They didn’t believe any of it—which was understandable, given you were crying your eyes out from the pain and embarrassment of it all.

It only took a cheeseburger to calm you down, one that Venti could not comprehend why. Apparently, he disliked anything too cheesy, which was hilarious, since he was an avid lover of cheesy lines and flicks but couldn’t stomach cheesy food.

Digressing, ever since then, dodgeball fights consisted of the three of you in the same team, never being split. The twins were known for being utterly merciless with their throws and you could vouch for that any day, any time.

They were, however, merciful enough to graciously pull you to their side of the team—something that the rest of the class said was favoritism! And were they wrong? Nope, not at all.

“[Nickname]’s a very precious friend, that’s why! Bleeeeeh!” Venti reasoned one time as he stuck out his tongue, only to be met with a ball to the face.

A very precious friend.

It was the first time you were referred to as one, let alone ‘very precious’… oh how touched you were—and oh, how touched your face was from the ball that slammed against it, too! What did you say about daydreaming being dangerous?

That was obviously forgotten. Of course, for children were prone to making the same mistakes twice.

Rest assured, though, for you were both avenged by a tunnel-visioned Zephyr, who took out the opposing team without any difficulty. Seriously, he could’ve been a star athlete.

“There you two go again, lost in your heads! You’re lucky your noses didn’t bleed. You know how Tighnari is with his throws!”

A brusque star athlete, but it counts. It’s cliché, but deep down he’s a worrywart, you’ve lost count of the times both his aunt told you that; how what one twin lacks, the other fills in.

They are complementary siblings, though they do butt heads a lot.

They never outgrew their differences and similarities, sticking to what made them each to their own yet still retaining that ‘oh yes I’m definitely this guy’s twin’ vibe.

People around them had incredible difficulty trying to discern who is who, for the pair had a knack for impersonating the other—and they were good—but you never had any complications with it.

That was another thing you could flaunt to your peers, you supposed. Or well, you thought you were good—you didn’t know.

It wasn’t every year that you were their classmate, and it wasn’t always that the twins were in the same class, too. That did not deter the three of you from hanging out, however. Everyone knew that you were all attached to the hip.

There were things you could only disclose to them and vice versa, ergo the continuous bloom of fragile trust. It only grew with age.

And with the development of your ages and mentalities—so came the inevitability called adolescence.

A time of utter frustration in your case, for when you were prepubescent, the unloading of obligation and responsibility increased.

All of a sudden, the stack of fairytale books in your shelves lessened, replaced by tomes and subjects that were for adults; business management, communication—things that an eleven-year-old shouldn’t be studying that early!

The additional tutoring given by your father was spartan. It only ever flourished the seed in your mind, a mix of frustration, dubiety, and anxiousness. Was it possible to ignore? No.

Not when it was revealed that you would be wed at the young and tender age of twenty-five.

Twelve years away—it was twelve years away. [Presently speaking, five.]

If you were still eight, you would be bursting in excitement—because look! The fairytale ending you so desire was set in stone, you only ever need to prepare for it.

But you were no longer eight, but eleven.

Young, a child, still, but one whose eyes were already opened to the sense of duty. It was too fast, you were growing up too fast and you weren’t ready at all.

You were at a bad place at that age, constantly debating with your conscience who was no older than your mind, attempting to reason if your guilt was warranted or not.

Was it bad if you didn’t want your life to be scripted? Was it bad if you wanted to make your own tale and search for your own prince?

It was cringeworthy at worst, but boy, how you feel those questions resonate within.

You never spoke to your father about it—how could you, when he had done and given everything? You gained so many things an orphan could ask for and he only asked for one thing in return; cooperation.

Would you dare then tell him that you didn’t want to follow his plan when he had been nothing but good?

You were helpless. [You are helpless.]

You were torn—and you were trapped.

You shouldn’t be so dramatic over it, heavens above, you should be grateful! But you were only human, you were only a hopeless dreamer, you could not refrain from feeling even if you so  tried.

It was only when you were in the presence of the twins that you’d forget the looming responsibility over your head. An invisible crown, resting on tresses of [c] as you once so desired when you were four.

But when you were four, you did not know that the crown was heavy not because of gold.

But because it carried an obligation; a duty to serve.

Maybe you weren’t a ‘princess-to-be’ because you’ve always been a princess all along, a royal with an intransigent future, a dreamer with a crown that could not be removed.

It was heavy and it still is, because at each waking moment you would be reminded of the day your tale will meet its end.

Pre-written, pre-ordained, something out of your control.

The twins were pretty scrupulous for their age then, being able to notice that you were under the weather for most of the time.

You supposed it was only natural for they’ve known you for years—and you liked to imagine that you knew them just as much.

What kind of best friend would you be if you don’t?

Venti was, understandably, the first one to ask you about it one afternoon, but you were much too irate then so you blew off his concern.

It was a terrible thing and although you felt awful and apologized, he brushed it off with his usual laughter, saying that you could just spill your problems when you were ready.

They didn’t pester you about it as the older twin promised—and you didn’t think it was possible to drown in shame and guilt until that very moment. Wasn’t it unfair?

You knew practically everything about the two but they, on the other hand, knew very few things about you in the years that you’ve become friends. Most they were aware of was that you were wealthy and that was it!

But you were scared.

If you told them your problems, won’t they think of you as selfish, too?

The three of you were at the age when you start to become more aware of the notion of morals, what’s right, wrong—what’s good and bad.

If you told them that you were just an orphan taken in by a man who wanted someone capable to take over the company and merge with another, that you didn’t really like the idea of being made to do things… won’t they think ill of you?

What if your friendship ended? What if they said you were a spoiled brat?

It did not help that these intrusive thoughts ate you from the inside out, gnawing without rest even when you were at the safety of the mansion—your home.

There was no one to talk to about it lest they start their critiques and you most certainly couldn’t tell father.

The chances of being returned to the orphanage… being abandoned… you couldn’t risk that.

You finally had a home, you had a family and everything you’ve wished for! All you had to do was suck it up and cooperate as your father wished. Surely, you would not give up everything that you were blessed with.

So, you kept those to yourself, those thoughts that knew nothing but to badger you day in and day out. Continuously beleaguered for the passing years, you persevered—and you thought, really, you thought that you could continue on like it.

Continue pretending that you favor the arrangement written by fate.

Come the age of twelve, you tried to breach the surface, tried to subtly tell your father about it—but his immediate displeasure caused you to refrain from proceeding.

The answer was as clear as day; though he gave you the freedom to choose which to study and what degree you’ll pursue in college, your life was settled.

It’s not like pursuing a different career would affect the plans—you would be reeled back in to take the seat of the head and the hand of a stranger in the end, anyway.

The more you grew, the more you became painstakingly aware of the ticking time. Like the clocktower in Cinderella’s tale, slow and gradual in the arrival of the golden hour, and when it comes, all magic will disperse.

Ah… maybe you should try to be like her, enjoy the time while it lasts.

That was the plan.

Well, until it was time to graduate from middle school, that is, for you had become thirteen, and when you rose to the stage with your father’s secretary, you saw the number of people in the crowd.

It had been a passing comment, innocuous and without any intent to perturb you. But it still did.  

“Soon, you will face a crowd like this one. With your husband. Sir will be so proud of you, he will live to see his dream come true… and he’ll get to give you an even more secured life.”

You were wordless as you took your certificate, a simple word stamping in your mind as the teacher shook your hand.

Dream—it was your father’s dream to have a child and shape them to be the perfect heir to continue his legacy and to entwine with another powerful venture. Additionally, he had thought of your life along the way.

It was for his wish and at the same time, for the security of your life.

What was this? An endeavor to bring an orphan happiness?

“The Master grew to be very fond of you, mistress. He could not see you much, but he always asked about you.”

You knew your father wasn’t the most expressive about familial love, still, hearing someone divulge his true thoughts and intentions wrecked you.

Just a few years ago, he stated that it was not necessary to refer to him as ‘dad’, or ‘father’, or anything—but now he looked at you as his daughter. Someone he had learned to cherish and planned to give the best life to.

With those added reasons, how could you even begin to think of going against his wishes?

Guizhong mentioned once that parents plan a good future for their children, who would dislike them, unaware that it was for the best.

Was it not the same case with you?

You would embody the dream of your parent. That was fine.

So, even if you disliked the plan for your life… even if you wanted to write your own tale… you should just endure it. For the best, right?

It was all that could be returned to your parent.

You were in tears that afternoon, hiding away from the secretary and not returning to your seat so you could be alone with your thoughts.

The ceremony was far from being done but you could not risk bursting out into hiccups and sobs in the middle of hundreds of students.

In isolation only would you permit the weight of the invisible crown to drag you to the earth.

In the nearby playground by the swings, you hid. No one would think to look after you there.

And there at the swings, you thought about everything.

It was for you—and it was for your father.

If it was for the greater good and for your future, why must you run away from it? Teachers also did state that best of outcomes could only be attained through hardships and trials, through disdain and perseverance.

Was yours a similar case? Most probably.

Then… would it be possible to still be happy? Of course.

Life leads someone through ups and downs—surely, you would not remain down.

Surely, the invisible crown on your head would eventually be as light as a feather.

There were sacrifices to be made, but they were all for the greater good.

Stomaching that fact was hard… but it wasn’t impossible. If you looked at it in a different angle, it wasn’t so bad.

Who knows? Maybe the person you’ll marry would end up being the prince you’re searching for—maybe you’ll learn to be happy with the arrangement.

It wasn’t a concrete ‘yes’, it was just a ‘maybe’.

But ‘maybe’ is still a chance.

So, okay.

You’ll accept it—you’ll accept that you’re a character planned for a specific purpose. After all, ‘maybe’s still exist.

You still don’t like the arrangement, but you’ll tolerate it.

You’ll have to one way or another, anyway, you were simply resigning to it as early as now. Deep down, you knew you’d still long for the magic of writing your own story, and that was fine.

It wasn’t wrong to be a dreamer—no matter how hopeless one may be.

So there, you wept for the loss of the future you desired, you wept for the possibility of a crestfallen you in the years to come. You wept for the little confined princess within.

Ah.

What would Kaeya say if he was there?

Would he tell you to raise your concern to your dad? It sounds like him, he always had been confrontational and didn’t like beating around the bush.

He’d say that it was fine to feel selfish—he’s pretty selfish himself! Always stealing your cookies and promising to gift you when he visits, but those were empty.

But still—still, you wished he was there. Because even if he was a big bully of a brother figure, he was someone you found comfort in.

That time of twilight, you prayed—you wished for him to come.

It didn’t matter if he’ll tease you for crying, you just wanted to remember the way he’d do silly things to get you to stop crying.

And as if the heavens were listening, someone came.

“[Name]?”

But it was not Kaeya.

Your vision might be blurred from all the tears you had been spilling, but it was clear enough to discern that the blue hair of the brother you had been seeking was different. It was black—a friend’s.

“… Zephyr?”

The younger twin was openly gaping by the time your sight had cleared.

It was an uncharacteristic look on his face and he was pointing at himself—until he was shaking his head and heading to sit next to you.

“What’s wrong? You didn’t go back to your seat. V-“ he almost tripped, though he caught himself a quick moment later and sat on the swing. “Very worried. We were very worried.”

It was a simple question, ‘what’s wrong’. What was wrong?

So many things, so many things were wrong—but mainly, you felt that you were in the wrong the most. If only that selfish desire of yours would leave, then everything would be okay, wouldn’t it?

It was a simple question, but you couldn’t even answer.

“It’s okay,” his voice was surprisingly gentle. “You don’t have to say it.”

Ah they were so, so alike, weren’t they? They truly were twins.

All of a sudden, you were remembering the time you blew up on Venti for asking what was wrong—and your tears were bursting again.

You couldn’t bear to keep silent and confine them in the dark any longer, so as your tears spilled, so did the truths. Not a fraction was left unsaid; from your origin as an orphan, to being adopted and told of your planned life—everything.

Time was not an issue when you revealed all that you previously couldn’t, it was as if the setting sun was holding itself from dipping under the horizon so that the truths could proceed unveiling themselves.

At that moment, you did not care about what he’d think of you next. It was just too much to keep bottled inside.

You’ve overestimated your strength. You were still a child, and children were more vulnerable to breaking apart.

When all had been revealed, it felt as though you have flown into the open skies, unchained. In a way, it was true, for you had decided to break the thread that sewed your lips shut.

What was left now was to await the reaction of your friend. Oh, he’ll hate you for sure—he’ll say you’re asking for too much, that you should be grateful for what you already have, and-

“Eh? That’s constricting, isn’t it?” he grunted, “It sounds awful!”

To top your surprise off, he started going about how he thought of the situation; about it being unfair since it was technically thievery—that you were being robbed of a life.

His words faded in the background as you stared, eyes as wide as an owl’s.

He… doesn’t like it either? It was bizarre.

You didn’t expect such an outward expression from him at all, too—almost as though he feels the same conflicting emotions you’re holding.

With a shake of your head, you stammered out an apology, having lost once more to the enclosure of your thoughts. It must’ve been too silent though, because Zephyr was looking at you with a frown and a raised brow.

“Ah, I didn’t hear you. What were you saying?”

For a moment, it seemed like he was about to scold you—as always—for not speaking properly, but he just shrugged and started swinging back and forth on his seat, waiting for your answer.

He was being more considerate than usual.

Looking down at your twiddling thumbs, you repeated your apologies and chipped in a few of your own opinions. It felt safe to say more—not once has he judged you for speaking out, so…

“I said it plays a little differently from the fairytales I used to read.” You murmured, moving your hands to grip the rope on the swing before kicking off in the air.

“Wasn’t it Cinderella having a spontaneous Prince Charming? Snow White being rescued by a passing Prince? No arrangements, you know? And they get to live their lives however they wanted to.”

Love at first sight, was that what it’s called? It sounded impossible.

A story where it ends with the character gaining control of how they want to live afterward, it’s such a dream.

“It just feels… strange to have your happy ending planned. You get to live, but does it really matter?” the wind caressed your face and carried your whispers as you continued to swing, nearly straying from reality’s hold once more.

There was no response. His silence was prolonged for a while—then he snorted, bouts of stifles evidences of restrained laughter.

“Meaning, you want a stranger to sweep you off your feet or something?”

You spluttered at it.

To be fair, the one you’re to be married remains mysterious, no meetings whatsoever—you wonder why. Technically, that guy was a stranger… so the question was if he could ‘sweep you off your feet’.

You flushed red, digging your feet at the ground to stop the movement of the swing. But now that he puts it that way, doesn’t it sound a little scary?

“No,” you played again with your thumbs, voice small as you puffed your cheeks. “Just… I don’t know..”

Was it too selfish for you to want to search for someone on your own? To discover the mirth of finding someone you want to be with?

You don’t know why you’re worrying over this so much—you’re only thirteen! And you already accepted your fate!

You would carry your dad’s dream and live it out solely because it was his wish and it benefited you too. A life of power and stability. Really, the only thing you would lose along the way would be freedom.

It’s the fairytale book. Argued your conscience. Definitely.

Hah! So, it’s your fault for loving fairytales so much to the point that you are actively seeking it out in real life, something far from being magical? Ah yes, you can see where the fault lies—but still!

“I’ll take you away.”

“Huh?” you whipped your head toward him in astonishment.

The tips of your friend’s ears were red.

It was something thrown haphazardly into the fire. A sudden appearance that neither of you expected to surface.

Were you hearing things? You were, weren’t you?!

“I said I’ll take you away!” he all but exclaimed, kicking harder off the ground so he would be swinging a lot more. You wondered if he did it so you’d be unable to get a proper look on the expression on his face.

“Isn’t that what you want? For- for something spontaneous.”

No, you were not hearing things at all.

“You’re—” a lump was swallowed in your throat, palms starting to get sweaty you began to rub them away at your lap. “Doing it for show, right?”

Zephyr—the one child who loathed the idea of fantasies and was inarguably the sane, level-headed, pragmatic one out of the three of you- actually suggested such a thing?

Though yes, he had times when he indulged—involuntarily—in them, but-

He stopped swinging, giving you a dead set look in the eye that had you zipping your lips.

“It doesn’t have to be. Where’s the magic in that fairytale if it’s fake?”

Thump, thump.

All of a sudden, staring into his turquoise eyes felt suffocating, it felt heavy—surreal, flustering. It held a weight in your chest. You could not believe that he…

“You’d do that?” you whispered, breathless. For me?

“Well, why not? It’s like,” he hummed, “Saving Princess Peach or something.”

.

.

.

Ah.

It was as if the magic had snapped away in that instance.

Did he really just say that?

You were seconds away from laughing but the goofily serious expression he was wearing made you bite on your tongue. He always did carry a stern face but the way he mentioned that…

You didn’t expect… him to propose those things, but…

“You mean it?”

“You think I’m lying?” he countered.

You flinched, eyes widening again. He.. Zephyr… never really lies.

But—this was all still so…

For the second time, you tore your eyes away, head in a frenzy. Your palms were sweating like mad and your heart was racing as if you had just ran!

Was it normal to feel so shy when minutes ago, you were as normal as, well- usual?

A sigh.

“Take your pinky out,”

“Eh?”

He groaned, standing so he could position himself at your front. Then, he reached and yanked your wrist closer so he could align your fingers properly with his own. He kept ignoring your squirms.

“You’re slow.”

Without an ounce of visible hesitance, he linked your pinky with his.

Ah! Your eyes brightened, embarrassment forgotten, replaced by nostalgia and the memory of the similar action you used to do a lot with Kaeya.

A pinky promise… that’s what this was, wasn’t it? One to take to the grave.

“There, it’s a promise,” he gave your fingers a tug before letting go. “Now we’ll just have to wait for like, a decade and some years.”

“…”

Your cheeks started to grow warmer than usual… oh… was this alright?

Staring at the pinky finger that still clung unto the warm vestiges of another, your lips twitched, forming a shy, giddy smile. 

It was useless—you know it was, that promise, but you believed in it anyway.

You have already accepted the future to come, you have resigned, even if it wasn’t favored. Nonetheless… the relief that he hadn’t judged you at all and even went out of his usual comfort zone to appease you was nice.

It felt nice.

It felt like you had someone to catch you.

“What promise?” came a voice, alerting the two of you about the newcomer.

“Venti!” he looked confused asyou beamed, hopping away from the swing so you could tell him all that had gone down, failing to register the frantic look that Zephyr wore.

There was nothing to be afraid anymore, you were certain that he’d react similarly—and he did! In one way more than one.

“He promised what?!”

Venti was thunderstruck in his exclamation, gaping widely as he shot a look at you and his twin back and forth. All attempts to construct a coherent sentence were met by failures.

You were too relieved to bother reading between the lines.

The twins were acting odd that day—perhaps they just woke up at the wrong side of the bed or something?

Still, when you parted ways with them, dolor was forgotten, and you met up with your father’s secretary wearing huge smile on your face along with a heart that felt full.

It was amazing how the littlest of comfort and most kiddish of promises could uplift your spirits. Perhaps all you needed was just a tad bit of assurance.

Deep in your bestrewed heart, a seed was planted. One of admiration.

Certainly, that promise stuck with you for days and for nights—you were happier, too.

Two of your best friends were in total support of how you felt and although it wouldn’t really help your future situation, it lessened the weight of your invisible crown.

It was bearable.

The bleak monochrome became less, replaced by heaps of color that spawned vibrancy in a life that you first thought would continue to be in a single bland hue.

Melodies of a waltz music you’ve memorized from hours of listening to—because what else was magical than envisioning a ballroom waltz?—were on an encore in your head.

After that encounter at sunset, the word ‘magical’ was certainly applicable to the prosaic reels of your everyday life.

One afternoon, when you were heading out of the school with a skip to your steps, painting every modern scenery into a grander medieval setting, you overheard the delicate sound of strings.

In a moment, you ludicrously thought that the music in your mind had manifested in reality and who knows? Maybe you have gotten a super power.

But that was much more impossible than your dad saying that your future marriage is called off, so you followed the source of the sounds—and you weren’t dismayed.

“Woah, you guys can play! That’s so cool!” how could you not been aware in all the years you’ve known them?

The music stopped.

Venti eased away from the chinrest of his violin, waving at you with the bow still held in his other hand. On the other hand, Zephyr kept his fingers at rest on the piano keys, expression blank.

“We usually play at some events! Hehe~” informed the older twin as you approached with a smile, one that was quick to dwindle in contrast to the speeding race of your heart.

For some reason, you felt a little shier than usual—was it because of that promise? You were kept awake the first few nights, unable to get some proper sleep because of it. This wasn’t normal at all, wasn’t it!?

“I heard the violin, it was amazing! And you play the piano really well, Zeph!” you grinned, pairing it with a clap. Oh, it felt like your heart was going to—

“Yeah.” He answered.

—… Burst.

Well, that was a bland response.

Your face fell, along with it your smile—he’s… being gruff. Not to find any fault in it since he always had been the personification of austereness, but- it felt like you were maybe hoping for something else.

You didn’t really know what.

A lightbulb flicked into life in your mind.

Oh, could it be that maybe he was thinking twice about what he said about that promise? It had been some time after that… It’s saddening, but you knew not to get your childish hopes up-

“Ow-! I mean, thank you.”

He corrected himself with a harsh pout. He still refused to meet your eyes—he was glaring at a snickering Venti—but even so, the smile was coming back on your visage full force.

Before you were even aware of it, you’re bouncing in place, giggling.

What was there to worry over?        

  

“Why do you both play, though?” you beamed, curiosity genuinely piqued, “A hobby?”

You had heard Venti sing a couple of times in passing but not a time when he took it seriously. Because of it, you always thought that he just liked doing it as a pastime, so his answer caught you off-guard.

“We plan to be singers one day! Up there on a stage!”

He wore the brightest of smiles you’ve seen as he said this and though you were merely thirteen—you could feel it.

The genuine excitement, his adoration for a dream he yearned to achieve.

His twin also shared the same sentiment, though he evidently showed less avidness, there was no mistaking the sheen of eagerness over his eyes. It was sort of enviable, if you were going to be honest.

To have a dream so grand.

You only dreamt of being free and that was that.

“As a pair?” you pressed on.

You’ve heard of musical duos and even trios, so will it just be the two of them? They did operate blisteringly well together, so you wondered if they will stay as is or form some sort of band.

Venti was obviously more open to the notion of working with others, and Zephyr, not so much—however they would work around the possibility of being in a group was still unknown.

Venti shook his head, smile still on his face. “Nope! We have Xi—”

Riiiiiiiiiing!

The sound of the bell drowned and cut him off.

To this, Zephyr stood from his seat, pulling down the fallboard after a split-second skim of his fingers against the keys. “It’s dismissal. Time to go home.”

He was curter than usual—almost as if he was on edge, nervous- or maybe even upset. You didn’t know why, though he had been like so ever since you met up with them at lunch break.

You tried not to let the bad, bad thoughts insist that it was because of what he promised you.

He pushed past Venti, who called out for him to wait—to no avail.

“Um, maybe a cheeseburger will help him?” Guizhong often gave him one whenever he was being under the weather… and a lot said that food is a wonderful remedy to a bad mood!

Venti scrunched his nose at the mention of the food, mulling his thoughts about how his twin could tolerate the sticky, icky cheese.

At first, it was baffling how he—Venti—couldn’t bear to stomach anything cheesy, but now it was simply amusing.

Regardless, he did not set aside your suggestion about the ‘awful’ food, and invited you along in his little mission to brighten his brother’s spirits. You would’ve gone if you didn’t have an agenda after school, which was to take more private lessons according to your father’s orders.

It was sad but understandable.

You had only gone at least seven times at their house.

On the other hand, the times they had gone over to yours couldn’t be quantified even if one tried to.

That day, you parted ways with another seed, now of dismay, rooted in your heart. Try as you did, you could not abate the growing fear in your chest.

It was hard to convince yourself that promises could be taken back and that was fine—Kaeya had done it so many times—and though you were able to, it left a bitter taste in your mouth.

Fortunately, you were already used to those, so, albeit you subtly hoped that the promise would see fruition years from now, you did not continue abiding by the thought of it. It was cataclysmic.

Besides… the marriage was like, a ‘whole decade and some years’ away, so you had all the time in the world to continue being merry.

Well, that was what you thought.

If you can turn back time and tell younger you about the future, you’d warn yourself about the chapters to come. You’d tell yourself to be stronger.

But you were just thirteen then.

You had all but explored the ups and downs of becoming an adolescent with the twins, through the reigning awkwardness and the flustering shenanigans.

It was a journey destined to be embarked by a group of three.

Highschool was even larger venture that you thought would be roamed with your arms linked with theirs, and it was. Albeit, for a short while.

Most friends often deviate come highschool, they said it was a new chapter with new characters, but this failed to be the case with you.

Sure, you were not in the same classes any longer, but it wasn’t like that changed anything.

Only, they were getting more perceptive of the future they wanted, and yours was getting murkier.

Oftentimes, you felt like being left behind. Whilst they were moving forward, prepared like knights atop their horses, you were stuck in a prison cell.

In that dark confinement, you had all the time in the world to think of things—many, many things a thirteen-year-old would stew in. From the faraway future, to pesky puberty, and emotions.

You were growing up with a heart that you wore on your sleeve—and it knew only how to race in the presence of one. The seed of admiration had grown, blooming into a shy bud that seized your heart with its roots and caused it to tighten whenever you’d see him.

When you figured it out, you were deathly afraid, but understood that things such as feelings were one of the least serious factors that could strain your relationship with your friends.

It was a bond that could stand the test of time. You were that confident in it.

Everything may not be as transparent as it was before but it wasn’t like that was a major change.

At the oddest of times, you still would find out interesting things you wouldn’t know about them—like a novel that contained bits of details that one would only catch upon repeated readings.

“What flower is that?”

You asked one time during a festival hosted by the school, a rare occasion when you could leave classes and bond with the pair.

Everyone was in charge over different things, so it was a miracle that you were able to find the time to see them.

Venti was found in the school greenhouse, tending to the plants the gardening club had asked him to bring out.

There were pretty flowers all around—but the one he was trimming the stem of was the loveliest of them all.

A stark white, dipped almost with a shy gradient of viridescent. It appeared to belong in the lily family—you weren’t too sure, you weren’t an avid learner of plants and floras.

Instead, you were growing up to be adept with management and communications, as your father liked. It wasn’t bad, you sort of liked it, though you were influenced by the twins’ love for art.

The flower put a halt in your steps, bringing about an extra sense of awareness; specifically, the blooming flower of adoration that had started to grow in your chest.

It wasn’t something you expected to have nurtured over time.

You couldn’t even begin to recall how you grew to be so fond of him.

“A cecilia! Isn’t it pretty?” Venti looked up at you before he stood, aligning the flower to your ear with a grin. “Yup yup! My favorite, indeed.”

You chuckled, agreeing with a nod as you took the flora from his hand and giving it a look over. It really was pretty.

“Does Zeph have a favorite flower?” Venti shifted his stare from you to the patch of cecilias planted in their respective pots. Hands on his hips, he smiled a wistful smile.

“He likes these, too.”

Nothing to be surprised over.

Though you did wonder about the other’s whereabouts, they were usually together. You didn’t question it, but it seemed as though your friend was aware of the stewing question in your head.

“He’s busy running an errand for the student council so he wouldn’t be here until later.”

Ah, you nodded. I see.

Venti nudged your side, winking. “The festival doesn’t really start until four, I can come accompany you later after I finish these? You should go get some lunch. It’s midday.”

Ever the worrywart, this twin.

You appreciated his thoughtfulness, though. He probably saw you scampering around the hallway a while ago during recess with nothing but an apple in hand.

As if on cue, your stomach growled and you flushed, smacking your friend’s arm when he burst out laughing.

“Shut up! I’m going, I’m going.” You spun on your heel with a snort, “I’ll see you later!”

“Uhuh!”

You hadn’t seen Zephyr that day—not even the morning earlier. But that was fine, the three of you did agree to spend the festival together.

It was one of the few events that could be spent together in the school, an opportunity not to be missed.

You didn’t worry much.

But oh, you wish you did.

Come the strike of four in the afternoon, you were seated outside on a bench, reading a book that a good friend had suggested.

Almost avid in his quest to read all the materials in the library, Xingqiu had bestowed a very good book with the theme you were all over the moon for.

It wasn’t until later when Venti showed up, plopping onto the bench and throwing his head back with a sigh—almost as if he was out of breath. It was honestly funny.

The greenhouse wasn’t too far and he was that tired already?

You ought to tease him about it, but you were too engrossed in reading that a different question popped up instead.

“What do you think of fairytales?”

Without a wasted breath, he answered. “They sound stupid..”

Your head shot up, not expecting the answer at all. His head was still thrown back as he rose his hand and did a series of stiff motions, adding, “And by that, I meant stupidly romantic, you know what I’m saying? Hehe!”

Voice turning mellow, he sighed. “It sounds impossible to happen, but it still does, anyway. It may be cliché and all, but I guess that’s where the magic is… I think?”

You blinked—once, then twice.

It’s true—that magic can be found in incessant clichés, but that’s what makes them lovable… desirable.

Digressing, you had known that Venti was the sappy one out of the twobut not to this extent. It was admirable as it was funny.

That could only mean that he was serious about serenades being his form of future courting, emphasis on future.

“… Pfft- ahaha!” You playfully punched his arm, to which he yelped and straightened up to display a vexed pout. “What’s with you today and being so strangely gloomy all of a sudden? Are you still hung up over that brown crayon?”

He scoffed, though it couldn’t hide the lifting curves of the lips on his face. “Yeah! It was so uncool of you.”

It had been a running joke for years now to bring up the topic of the stolen crayon whenever either of you was under the weather.

It was definitely a naïve topic to reminisce, Zephyr would’ve lost his eyes from rolling them time and time again whenever it was brought up.

“It wouldn’t have happened if you didn’t take my [c]!” you stuck your tongue out only to shriek at the unexpected assault that came afterward.

“You deserved it!”

Venti ruffled your hair with a grin, ignoring your shriek and flailing limbs as he continued messing up your hairdo—which wasn’t anything fancy, but still!

It was a hectic day and it was a miracle in itself that your hair wasn’t sticking on ends… until now.

Other students’ eyes were naturally drawn to the both of you, a pair of chaos incarnates that huddled at a bench, but no one bothered, far too occupied with their duties for the afternoon.

It wasn’t until a passing teacher had come to scold and tell you to quiet down did you both apologize, sheepish in your mannerisms.

Now facing quietude with only the background noise of seniors and juniors running about the place, you slumped on the bench, glancing at your watch. It was half an hour until four, half an hour until it was time to reform the group of three.

Needless to say, you were both excited and nervous.

A glimpse towards the boy beside you as well as an agitated swallow was all it took to summon the courage to speak up again. You cleared your throat.

“Hey, Ven, I think I’m going to talk about something to Zeph later.”

He chuckled. “Don’t you always talk to him?”

Oh the woes of being a thirteen-year-old. You could do this.

Or not.

Your voice faltered, emitting a barely heard whisper. “I mean…”

That was more than enough for him to turn at you, eyes wide as saucers. With the heat spreading to your cheeks and ears, you didn’t need to look at a mirror to be aware that your face was becoming as red as an apple.

The twiddling of your fingers was another evident factor that spoke of your nervousness.

“… Oh.” He answered, just as silent.

He knew of what you thought of his brother because, as dumb looking as he may be, he was truthfully rather discerning. In fact, Venti was the one who was able to spell out how you felt with only a couple of questions.

When he first found out, he was excited.

“What do you think?” you asked, concerned.

So why was he acting off now?

He blinked, eyebrows furrowing in bewilderment. “What do you mean by that?”

What did you mean?

Perhaps you were looking for some moral support? The same one he had expressed come the initial revelation? Or… you didn’t know.

But it felt like you were going to burst the more you kept it inside—you cared not about the answer you would receive, you just needed to let it out.

“Well…” you looked down at your hands, “I think…“

How were you going to say that?

For someone who was taught rigorously in communications and management, your tongue sure loved to twist itself when it came to sentimental stuff. Dear heavens, was this another setback of puberty or something?

You’re just making up excuses now.

With a sharp exhale, you turned your head to look at him again, only, he was beating you to it with a troubled sigh. Fingers ran through his messier than usual tresses, giving them a firm tug as he gnawed on his lip. He looked more nervous than you were.

“Listen, [Name]-“

The ring of his phone startled the two of you into jumping, to which he curtly apologized before taking a peek at it.

It was concerning—how you saw his pupils dilate and his lips part open- until the colors were draining from his face.  

Then came another ring—and another ‘till he was being spammed with calls that he was yet to pick up. His head and phone were angled away at the slightest, but you could see the panic rising to his face.

You rose a tentative hand to his arm.

“Venti?”

As though your voice was a wake-up call, he jerked upright, slotting his device in the pockets of his jeans before you could take a look at it.

His fingers were shaking as he regarded you with the palest face you’ve seen him wear.

“I—have to go.”

Already? What about the festival? It’s only a few minutes away from starting-?

Your visage must’ve already been showing the questions that were just about to roll from your lips, because he was already backing away—afraid, panicked, you didn’t know how to describe his retreat.

You hadn’t seen him looked so white.

“I’m sorry, it’s an emergency!” he called before sprinting, leaving you alone at the bench.

That afternoon, you may had felt worried, but it wasn’t too much.

Whatever the occasion, either of the twins never failed to let you in an update. Yes, the festival wasn’t that festive anymore because they both weren’t there with you… but that was fine.

It wasn’t.

You went home when the clock read seven and you were certain that neither were going to show up. That was the time you began to worry. Such a delayed response, but it was better to fret than never.

Not one of them picked up the calls, so you assumed that they were handling it well… hopefully.

They weren’t.

Even when the moon was already high up in the sky, there were zero replies.

It was then, that you truly began to be concerned. It was not normal, this duration of no contact, you weren’t used to it at all. You needed to know what happened.

You should’ve chased after him a while ago—but what if it was personal? No, it was okay, they would understand- right?

Sleep evaded your consciousness.

As you tossed and turned on your bed, gazing at the dark sky littered with tiny specks of white, you endeavored to bring yourself to a magical dreamscape—but it was an otiose try.

Not even reading the bunch of fairytales and storybooks in your shelves could allay the twist of trepidation in your chest.

You wished to receive a sign—a good one, or anything!

And lo, receive you did.

Your phone lit up on the bedside table before it started to ring, not like it mattered, for you were already swiping it to answer in a span of a second. Pressed against your ear, you called out the name displayed on the screen.

Breathlessly, anxiously.

“Venti?”

Nothing—just the distant sound of repetitive beeps and labored breaths.

It was a night to remember.

“[Name],”

And it wasn’t because it was good.

You can remember the way he responded to your second call of his name, so frail—so lost.

He’s crying.

He hadn’t said anything yet, but as if the organ keeping you alive was in tune with his, your eyes were already watering. The coldness of your room was becoming too much.

“I, he-“ a choked sob. “Zeph.”

You forced yourself to choke out an agitated, “Yeah?”

The quietude was deafening, the constant zoning out, the ceaseless beeping in the background- you were going to go insane in the darkness of your prison cell.

You debated saying his name again lest your words would tumble in with his, but he wasn’t saying anything and you were getting frustrated by the minute.

The tight grip you had on your duvet hadn’t even been registered until you felt a subtle stab of pain digging into your palms and you released it with a disgruntled, shaky exhale.

The roots of the flower you’ve nurtured within grasped away at your chest, seizing traces of air that you had trouble trying to wring in.

“Venti?” you try again.

And again.

And again—over and over and over until it was enough to snap him out of whatever had held him captive and-

“[Name], he—”

.

.

The world slowly began to still along with your freezing heart. Something slammed and the sound was loud, thundering in the ears like a judgement had befallen for all to hear.

So destructive, when in truth, it was only your phone that had rolled out of your grasp.

But it’s the same phone that heralded the terrible news—news you wished should be false, but alas. It wasn’t.

The tale you called life was warping into a nightmare.

It was his turn to say your name, reverberating in the walls of your room. But, just like he had been a while ago, you were too stunned to speak.

Far too gone, you were, that you didn’t bother to catch the phone that eventually slipped out of your bed.

Thud!

It’s cold.

“Hello, miss?” you blink with a shiver, turning to the voice with a confused look.

An old woman is handing you your—ah! Your phone!

“You dropped this.”

You take it from her aged hands and quickly placed it in your bag, a much safer location than your jean’s pocket. “Thank you…”

How long have you been standing out here?

You’ve arrived at your destination with a newly purchased flower and a semblance of fortitude to go along with it, but not even a step further and you are already gone.

Away, in the tides of a time irretrievable.

Goodness, here you go again, getting lost in your head… if Venti is here, he would’ve already started another motherly sermon.

He isn’t, however, so there is only your subconsciousness to tell you off for being an airhead.

“Are you alright, dear? It looks like you’ve come from a nightmare.” And you’ve forgotten that there’s still someone in front of you.

Resisting the impulse to slam a hand to your face, you wring up a strained smile, one that is swift to sway come the understanding of what was mentioned.

A nightmare?

You fight down the urge to laugh and admit that—yes, in some way, you did just resurface from a nightmarish memory. She isn’t wrong at all. Far from it, actually!

For the sake of preserving whatever mettle you have remaining, however—you like to think you’ve grown some resistance in reminiscing the bitter past—you chose not to reveal your true sentiments. Instead, you laugh it away.

As you learned to do over the years.

“I’m fine, granny, but thank you.” You grin, “It’s appreciated.”

The old woman coos, caressing your hand and giving it a firm shake, as though aware that you are lying—for her sake or yours, she doesn’t know. You don’t know either. “Dear girl, whatever it is, do not worry.”

Her wrinkled visage presents a knowing smile, olden with wisdom and experience that one can’t possibly forget. Before she departs down the white halls of the building, she presses faintly on your knuckles.

“When dream ends, so do nightmares. You’ve awoken from one, and you will for so many to come.”

Her words resonate in your mind, bouncing off memories in an endeavor to get it to stick—maybe even to console the conscience of your younger self. One that is mislaid in the oscillating enclosure of a bogey known as history.

Ah, but she has mentioned that you have awoken from that now—and, though still hurting, you daresay that you have in fact, woken from it.

Awake from a fairytale-deemed-reality, for now you are older and not younger.

Accepting, for now you are mature and no longer naïve; the moment you’ve decided to open your eyes, you have emerged past the pages of your storybook.

She’s right, you sigh, entering a room and shutting the door as silently as possible. I’ve awoken.

For it’s just as she said.

Your dreams have ended—and so have your nightmares. What lays before you now are nothing but the afterthought, the one that lingers, never to leave. You’ve awoken… but deep down you still wish to succumb to that slumber, to that pleasant wonderland where there are only pleasant dreams and nothing more.

The steady sound of a beeping machine stings your eyes as you place down a single cecilia on the vase, taking the old one out.

Oh, how you still wish for fairytales, for don’t they reach happy endings? Alas.

There is no time to hope for magic.

Ginger with your mannerism, you feel the petals under the pad of your finger, trembling lips tugging down to a frown.

It’s soft, despite nearing its death.

Beep

A long time ago, with the entrance of twin stars in your fairytale, comes the planting of a seed. Born of a promise you’ve held onto, but eventually let go.

Beep

A long, long time ago, you nurtured a flower, too—it grew with your heart, grew with your emotions.

It has blossomed into a beautiful one, never closing back into a bud. It knew not rain nor shine, for whatever the weather, it still kept its petals open, dancing to the presence of one.

The journey of it blooming. The dread of falling. The beauty of loving…

Beep

And the acceptance of withering.

A natural cycle, yet one you dreaded all the same.

Weakened, you fall to the nearby chair, feeling the twists and turns of your heart as you drop the wilted cecilia onto your lap.

In the end, deep down, although you’ve woken up, you are still the child yearning for an impossible fairytale.

Beep

Is it selfish for you to want to see it be fulfilled? That naïve wish? That childish promise?

Hand on the white sheets, near unmoving fingers, you sigh. With the last reserves of your strength, you bring your eyes to gaze upon someone’s profile. So strikingly similar, a mirror to a friend. Peaceful and undisturbed.

Beep

Your eyes are stinging—it’s impossible to keep them from hurting.

“When, just when,”

Your laugh comes out bittersweet, though it begins to form into restrained sobs.

Beep

“When will you stop dreaming, Zeph?”

The monitor proceeds to show and sound out the timid beat of a sleeping heart, as it has been doing for the past couple of years. It’s yet to show a sign of change, yet to show the sign of a hopeful awakening.

It drowns out the quiet weeping, lost in the coldness and the whiteness of the hospital room. A space stuck in the stasis of time.

Beep

It makes you look away at the face of a dear friend—

Beep

—Unable to see the stray tear that rolls down his cheek.

a/n: so :))) [passive smiling intensifies] we have a sleeping beauty~ at long last, namelessbard (zephyr) is finally- officially introduced! LORE! HOORAY! and the angst! ..not so yay?

@cherryflushz @e7t3 @scarlet-halos @lordbugs @nebulaera @annoying-and-upset @hanniejji @applepi1415 @tjjjrsj @azirajane @hey-comrade-hold-stil @limelightsuperhero @chloeloe @loptido @windyventi @nejibot @ganyuqrt @justrinnn @yasunamilk @alana5021 @coco-goat-milk @uwu-dreams @nomnom21 @milksnake-tea @layla240 @normalisthenewnorm @abbynxisys @ghostlystudentvoidbat @meinoballs @lost-in-alula @aryllechan @xiaosalmondtaro @yetchann @rayskyee @lunavixia @estelwrld @nightfloweruponahill @o0soup0o @little-fiinch @blueberrysauce @iineikoo @aestherin @hakobuns @monicahar @sirinxei @mundanenights @minitao @randomweebly @bluebeomz @emperatris-rinaka @durptwit @shioriryke @crapimahuman @cianalikesbeans @feverish-dove @sassyglassesbunny @m1chijou @galacticmei @dollpoetwriting @yamtwt

[red-writes]

soft yan! shinsou x chubby! reader

summary: you keep receiving these letters in your mailbox from an unknown person, somehow you find yourself slowly falling for the creepy admirer until one day they decide to reveal themselves to you in the worst way possible—by looming over you while you sleep.

warnings: yandere behavior, insecurities, light smut.

Boo’s note: hi okay, this is dedicated to the annie that asked me for a shinsou fic, tbh I didn’t really know what to make it about bc u didn’t specify but here I hope you like it *^* uhh it’s also unedited im sorrrrry

Everyday at 7:00 am, the mailman drops off mail. Everyday at 7:10 am you’re rushing downstairs after stuffing half a bagel in your mouth to retrieve the stack of envelopes from the mailbox. The letters started appearing a month ago, pretty purple envelopes sealed with a cat sticker were amongst your mail everyday. You picked out the purple one and dropped the other unimportant, plain white envelopes on the coffee table. You took a seat on the couch and hurriedly opened it up.

My dearest love,

Last night I had a dream about you. You’re perfect face was smiling at me, you called my name and even held your hand out to me. You were so perfect I woke up crying. The more time that passes, the more I find myself falling deeper and deeper in the never-ending ocean that is you. So deep, so warm, comforting and gentle. Do you think that maybe one day, we could be happy together? That we could live a life together somewhere peaceful where you have me and I have you and that’s it. To me, that sounds like heaven, a world where the only person I only ever see is you. You’re my everything, my reason to live, to breathe and to continue living in this grueling world. I hope the rest of your day is good, I hope you enjoy yourself at the party.

xoxo,

shin.

After reading you couldn’t help the hard pounding of your heart, it was unusual yes, but you found his fondness for you quite endearing. You clutched the letter and held it to your chest. While it was strikingly odd that he knew about tonight’s party, you didn’t mind. Up until now shin had been harmless, never saying or doing anything too weird or creepy, nothing to warrant you to visit the local police station. You refolded the letter and tucked it back inside of the envelope. Instead of mulling over small details, you needed to find something to put on tonight!

+

The party was in full swing by the time you arrived. It was a charity event for the company you worked for, everyone from the hero deku to chargebolt was in attendance. Big parties like this were not your scene but you had to go, your boss invited you personally and you didn’t want to let him down. You took a drink off of one of the tables and made your way to a less crowded corner of the room. You took rare sips of your champagne as you sighed. This place was definitely not your scene.

“You look fabulous tonight” you hear from beside you, you’re quick to turn your head and your eyes lay upon none other than the mind-jacking hero, Shinsou!

You’re quick to bow, “ah! Mr.shinsou, sir, it’s an honor to meet you” you greet and he’s chuckling softly.

“Hey now, don’t worry about being too formal with me” he says, voice gentle as he rests a hand on your shoulder. Your face is burning, he told you that you looked nice! The number five hero just complimented you!

“Thank-thank you” you say and quickly take another sip of your drink to try and calm your nerves, “you look nice as well”

He gives you a genuine smile, “you’re so sweet”

You can hardly breathe right now, Shinsou first told you that you looked nice and now he was calling you sweet? Was this your lucky day or something?

“Well Shinsou I-”

“Oh! Hitoshi, I’ve been looking for you man!”

Chargebolt walked over to where the two of you were standing and wrapped his arm around Shinsou’s neck. He began pulling him away, going on about how ground zero almost slapped one of the patrons. Shinsou turned to wave goodbye to you and you did the same. Once he was out of sight you released a breathe you hadn’t know you’d been holding in. Tonight felt like a dream, you really didn’t want to wake up from it.

“y/n! There you are, I need to you take pictures of me and some of our guests!” Your boss yells and you’re sighing, downing the rest of your drink before you rest it on a neighboring table.

“Coming sir!”

well maybe you were ready to wake up from it now.

+

The next day at the same time you retrieved your mail, you’d shuffled through it several times and yet you hadn’t found that signature purple envelope. The day after that and even the day after that one there was no letter for you in the mail. It stung. Maybe they’d lost interest in you? Maybe they decided that you weren’t good enough after all?

The sixth day after receiving no letter you’d decided to give up, it wasn’t like you knew this was going to happen. You threw yourself onto your bed as soon as you got out the shower. You’d been doing poorly at work lately, your mind too busy focusing on those purple envelopes rather than the stack of paper work in front of you. You pulled the sheets up to your chin and shut your eyes, praying that you wouldn’t dream of that person or their kind words.

There was an odd sensation you got, it felt like cold air was hitting your body. Were you still dreaming? You didn’t leave your window open. Your eyes fluttered open, your vision still slightly blurry as you came to. Your sat up and rubbed your eyes. From the corner of your eye you saw a figure standing there. Fear that laid dormant until now began to unfurl itself in your gut, you slowly turned your head to face it and there he was.

“M-mr.Shinsou?!” You whisper yelled, he gave you a soft smile and held his hands up in front of him.

“You caught me” he says and begins walking towards you, you’re scurrying away from him on the bed.

“Why- why are you here?!” you hold the sheet up in front of you like a shield.

“I felt guilty about not sending letters for so long..I made you sad and I couldn’t forgive myself for that so I came to make it up to you” he explains and your still sleep filled mind was struggling trying to comprehend his words.

“Letters..you’re the one who has been sending me all of those letters?” You ask and he nods, he takes a seat on the edge of your bed and that familiar pounding of your heart is back. It was him, the person you’d been longing for, for so long now.

“Mhm, everything I said in those letters were true as well, how beautiful I think you are, how addicting your personality is, how absolutely sinful I think your body is..” he whispers and you feel air caught in your throat. Shinsou inches closer and closer to you and in a flash of purple he pins you underneath him.

“Mr.Shinsou..-”

“Hitoshi, call me Hitoshi” he corrects.

His head slowly lowers until his face is millimeters from yours, his breath is hot against your lips and you can’t help but shut your eyes, you’d been wanting this- wanting him for such a long time now. Shinsou’s lips press gently against yours and you find yourself kissing back, your lips move in a glorious synchronous. The kiss was one of passion and hunger; proof that the two of you had been longing for the other. You pulled away from him, lungs grateful for the ability to breathe again.

“Hitoshi..” you whisper and Shinsou sucks in a breath before his hands move downwards to pull at the hem of your night gown.

“Can I?” He asks and you find yourself nodding. The number five hero, the man who has been stalking you, sending you letters that if you were anyone else would find creepy, the man you’d fallen for…

You raised your arms in the air as he slowly began lifting the sheer cloth off of you revealing your nude body to him. Your cheeks burned in embarrassment, your arms folded to cover your exposed chest.

“Y-you might be disillusioned after seeing me completely naked..if you regret choosing me to give your heart to, I don’t blame you” you shyly confess and Shinsou’s eyes widen.

“I could never, I've merely dreamt about this day every night for months on end...you are the most beautiful person I've had the pleasure of laying eyes upon.” He says, his hands gently pry your arms away from your body and you can feel hot tears well up in your eyes as he lays you back against the soft blankets.

His lips are soft as they press themselves against every bit of exposed skin, his kisses don't shy away from stretch marks or any of your other insecurities. A warm, heated feeling that blossoms in your chest. 

Love? Desire? Serendipity?

It felt like all three combined into one big ball of sentiment. 

His hands gently massaged your breasts evoking soft mewls of his name from you. His hands slivered downwards to grope the flesh of your stomach.

“Soft beautiful...” he mumbles, his hands move even further downwards and cup the warmth between your legs. The feeling of his hand directly against you has your legs spreading, giving yourself completely to him. His fingers gently rub circles at your clit, your hips stutter up into his touch, moans and whimpers tumble out of your mouth dumbly. The situation you've been so eager for, for so long was finally upon you.

Your back arches off the mattress as he slides a slim finger inside of you, the sensation feels much fuller than your own fingers do. You beg him to go faster, add more and make you feel better than you have ever before and he's shushing your lust filled ramblings with a kiss. 

“I need to savor this moment, I won’t get many more like this” he expresses and your concern is evident on your face but he doesn't allow you to ponder on his words. He adds in another finger and curls them upwards, pressing them against the spongy sweet spot, his head ducks down and his lips wrap firmly around your clit and suck on the aching bud. Your eyes roll back into your head and your body shakes, unable to handle to the newfound euphoria.

“Ah- shinsou! I’ll- cumming!” your cunt spasms around his fingers as your orgasm hits you, you grip onto the sheets around you as your thighs shake.

“You look so pretty like this, so so pretty” he compliments, before you know it your eyes are involuntarily fluttering shut. You're scared, panic fills you at the thought of him not being here when you wake up, you don't want this to be another fever dream. 

+

When you awake the next morning you feel heavy. Your body slumped with the exhaustion of the previous nights activities. You're eyes widen as your hand feels around the bed, your fingers bump into the heat of another body and there is. The yellow halo from the sun is cast over his head as his chest rises and falls.

You scoot in close enough so that your noses are just barely touching. His eyes begin creaking open and purple gems meet your own.

“Good morning”

“Morning..”

Questions about what he meant last night could wait…you wanted spend your time right now loving him.

[e-dragoons]

i wrote a little something in honor of haurchefant day, inspired by dragonsong reprise (no spoilers past heavensward) pairings: wol/haurchefant, wol/estinien ao3 link: here

Lehna sobbed as with all her might, she flung her bullets into the air, a shield falling like rain between Haurchefant and the spear attempting to break through his shield. She flung herself at the spear as he pushed it back, allowing her to leap at it once more, cutting it down with something between a scream and a sob escaping her lips.

Haurchefant collapsed to the ground and she followed suit, relief and confusion flooding through her as she watched him breathe. A bit exhausted, perhaps, but otherwise none the worse for wear.

“Ah, you’re unharmed? Good.”

She wrapped herself around him, unable to control the sobs that flowed from her as she squeezed tightly, his arms hesitant for a moment before returning her embrace. “Come now,” he said into her ear. “Tis alright.”

At that, she could only cry harder.

But everything was wrong. 

It played around her like a film–her fleeting happiness as she was reunited with Haurchefant. But Thordan was summoned and returned to Ishgard, killing thousands who refused to follow the Heavens’ Ward. Estinien, corrupted completely by Nidhogg, went head-to-head with Thordan and won, the dragons finally gaining enough momentum at the loss of both the Azure Dragoon and the Archbishop to completely overtake the city. 

And every time she attempted to stop Nidhogg–

She was dead, the only trace of Estinien remaining as he ran his lance through her was but a glint in his eye, as if apologizing for what he could not control. 

And Lehna would die–she would die a thousand deaths to save him, to keep him safe the way he had kept her–

But as the Scions fled to Doma in a feeble attempt to gain a foothold to take back Ishgard blaming themselves for Lehna’s death.

The Scions died one by one.

Lehna choked out another sob as she held Haurchefant close.

“I appreciate the effort,” he said gently, and she looked up at him, begging for him to see how badly she wanted him to live–that they could stop the world from changing so drastically if they tried, they just had to follow the Archbishop now and–

“One cannot change fate, my love.”

She buried her face into his neck and he pulled her in tighter. “I can’t lose you again,” she said, her voice cracking. “I won’t.”

“You know that you must.”

And she knew it to be true–one life for thousands more should have been an easy choice to make. And yet.

“You have many who love you,” he said, running a hand through her hair. “I am always with you, always cheering for you. Let me do this for you.”

“It hurts,” she said, her voice not much louder than a squeak. 

And it did.

Haurchefant had welcomed her with open arms. He’d taught her how to fit into a city that didn’t seem to want her–or want him, for that matter. His family welcomed her with open arms, as if she was one of their own. And she had finally felt like she belonged somewhere. She’d carved out a life for herself–a life with Haurchefant, full of adventure and stolen kisses when they thought no one was looking. 

“That is not the life we would have if I stay.” 

“But–”

“Listen to me.” He pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “We will meet again one day in the aetherial sea, my love. You will tell me of all your adventures and I will listen to every word. You’ll tell me how you managed to tie Estinien down in one place and I will admire you all the more. And I hope I am left waiting for quite a long time. There are so many more adventures for you to have before I see you again.” 

She stared at him, tears still streaming down her face.

He smiled at her once more, suddenly coughing up blood. 

“Oh, don’t look at me so,” he said. “A smile better suits a hero.”

Haurchefant exploded into a dusting of light as Lehna let out another cry, knowing full well that she could not have saved him and yet still wanting to try again anyway–

“It’s alright,” she heard, a deeper voice than Haurchefant’s. “It’s just a bad dream.”

Estinien.

Her eyes opened and she was met with Estinien’s wide eyes, his hair falling in loose sheets around his face as he stroked her cheek, wiping what must have been her own tears away.

Without thinking, she threw herself at him so that her arms were around his neck. After a brief moment of hesitation, he brought his own arms around her and said, “Shhhh,” as she began to sob in earnest. 

Estinien had gotten much better at comforting her after her nightmares. And although there was a small panic forming in her chest as she longed to see the rest of her friends safe, the dream would be one that only Estinien could truly understand.

“I saved him,” she whispered. “I saved Haurchefant.”

Estinien stiffened for a moment before relaxing again, running his hands through her hair, but he said nothing.

“But…” She took a breath. “When he did not die, we did not chase after the Archbishop. Thordan became too strong. Nidhogg became too strong. Nidhogg k-killed you, and then me, and I think he would have gone after the others next but–”

“It was a dream,” he said. “We’re fine. You’re safe.”

Lehna let in a gasp of air, trying to keep her breathing even. “Everyone died. And Haurchefant… he saw it all too, and he wouldn’t let me try to save him again.” 

“He loved you, Lehna,” Estinien said. “I know that. He loved you so much that he would die for you again and again. He would want you to think of him fondly, not of his sacrifice for you–not knowing how much pain it would bring you.”

She sniffled, knowing that he was telling the truth–that even her dreamed version of Haurchefant had wanted nothing more than for her to chase her happiness. 

“Would you like me to make you some hot cocoa?” Estinien asked gently. 

And although it hurt, Lehna nodded before she could stop herself.

Haurchefant would not have come to her dreams to hurt her, she knew. So perhaps it was time for her to stop avoiding thoughts of the man, and instead think fondly of the memories she had of their time together. 

For as he’d told her once before:

A smile better suits a hero. 

[popculturebuffet]

Monthly Muppets: A Muppet Family Christmas Review (Comission for Emma Fici)

Hello all you happy muppets and welcome back to Monthly Muppets, your usually monthly slice of Muppety Goodness. But since my friend Emma decided to double up this month, your getting two! And as a result Christmas is coming early to this blog as we look at something i've been meaning to watch for some time and have been dying to cover since we started this project: Muppet Family Christmas. Don't worry… there's still plenty of sleeps till christmas which means you'll still be getting Micheal Caine down your chimneys next month.

As for why it's simple: Muppet Family Christmas was an hourlong special from 1987 following our faviorite troupe as they hunker down at Ozy's Mother's Farmhouse, beware of an icy patch.. and intrude on the quiet holiday of Doc and Sprocket from the US version of Fraggle Rock, get visited by Kermit's old friends from Seasame Street, and Kermit even gets to go down to fraggle rock himself. Despite it's short but sweet run time this special is the rare time all of Jim's creations were under one roof.. literally! And thanks to the rights being scattered to the four winds, it's likely the last time we'll see them all together barring some horrible stygian corporate merger or even more unlikely a compromise between parties.

So be careful of that icy patch, cook up some turkey and be home for Christmas because under the cut it's a muppet family christmas!

I couldn't find any behind the scenes info for this one.

Especially since I REALLY wanted to know why and how this one happened. How Jim got everything he'd built together for one night…. well almost everyone. Wilkins and Wontkins didn't get to come along

Mostly because Kermit's a tea frog and Jim didn't want him to die slow die fast now.

The premise is simple: The Muppets go to Fozzy's Mom's house for Christmas. This being Fozzy he didn't bother to call her and assumed she had no other plans

Yeah turns out she was planning to go to Malibu and was renting the house to Doc, a loveable old curmudgeon who lived right next to the Fraggles but didn't meet them till the finale of his show. While this aired after said finale it likely takes place before as he still dosen't know they exist, and givent he massive amount of characters involved and what not I woudln't be suprised if it was simply written with General Fraggle Stuff in mind.

Naturally his quite vacation gets rained on and since his Lawyer has his own christmas plans….

He's stuck with them, as is Fozzie's mom who takes her son barging into her house with dozens of people far better than any person should, though it is very sweet of her to just acccept that her son thought she'd be alone and wanted to give her some company and adapt quickly.

From there the special is mostly just the Muppets hanging out with the family having themselves a party, with the eventual addition of the Seasame Street gang who come by caroling and just end up staying. As such i'll be kind of just freeform tackling the various plot beats as I may.

Okay starting off we have Doc. While as I said i've barely been down to fraggle rock, doc was charming, at first being werided out and annoyed by our heroes.. but slowly growing to see them as friends and seeing them as we do: a loveable family of choice you can't help but be charmed by. Simple plot progression but it works and it's charming. He even goes out to fetch Miss Piggy, who spends most of the special putting off coming.. only for a blizzard to be her commpuance. The special nicely mixed emotoins: it's funny seeing her blasted with ice after putting off coming to christmas to schmooze and ignoring Kermit's warnings abotu the blizzard, but you do genuinely worry for her because Kermit does. He dosen't want his girlfriend to die horribly and you can't blame him. Her hilarious entrance on a sled , having a costume for Doc just because, pays it off and it's wonderful to see her back. It's just enough tension. Also notable for the count not reading the room as he counts one frog ah ah two frogs ah ah.

The other major plot.. is less charming but I suppose I have to rip off that band aid sometime: A Turkey shows up invited by the swedish chef.

Gonzo tries to save the guy.. and Turkey thanks him by ignoring his warnings, trying to get with Camilla, mocking gonzo for not being a bird marking him as a bird racist, and then when confronted with the consequences of his actions, i.e. the chef trying to cook him like Gonzo just warned this feathered asshole.. he puts up Big Bird as a replacement. Yes. BIG BIRD. This fucker tries to get a CHILD murdered in his place.

Thankfully even Swedish Chef can't murder big bird… Robin yes, he certainly tried

(robin)

But not even Swedish Chef's incomprehinsiable heart can't be swayed by a sweet giant child giving him a present because he's far from home. IT's a nice show of just how much heart the big guy brings to things and it's really sweet. Still though fuck that Turkey. He's not funny, really adds nothing to the special and him trying to steal camillia from Gonzo, who again TRIED TO SAVE HIS LIFE MINUTES BEFORE THIS, is NEVER resolved. He gets no compuance or anything for that or again trying to faciliate child murder. I'm easier on Swedish Chef because he's working on blue and orange morality: his morals usually begin and end on that's delcious and until actually talking to big bird could easily not know he's a child. Turkey knowing it or not still tried to get someone else murdered to save his feathered ass. I only suspect he's in this special because the only other obnoxious turkey muppet they could get was busy…

Turkey just sucks, and thankfully he's not in the special a lot but it's telling he's the ONLY part of it I didn't like. Everything else? Jim henson at top speed. This? The flaw that makes the masterpiece I suppose.

There's only one other new muppet, though given this is the Smash Bros Ultimate of Jim Henson and the other attempt at a new character was the muppet antichrist, fair enough. We get a snowman who becomes Fozzy's new comedy partner. Not only is he brillantly muppeted, but he's just fun to have around. He also gets the best joke of the special, the only part of it i'd seen as I clicked into a video fo this once and skipped ahead a bit: Fozzie tries to get Kermit to go outside.. in the blizzard

And Kermit naturally dosen't want to die tonight.. onlyf or the Snowman to run in saying it's too cold out there. I only saw the tail end of the joke but it's simple, silly, and had me dying laughing. In short it's muppets in a nutshell.

So besides the attempted birder and piggy we have some smaller runners: Everyone says look out for the icy patch.. after someone's already slipped and broke their back on it, Fozzy's mom is constantly having to find more ludicrous solutions to house everyone, down to having Gonzo and Animal sleep on hangars, which of course Gonzo loves and Animal does anyway.

The biggest draw of course is the crossover stuff. We get a LOT of great team up bits from the seasame streeters and muppets: besides the aformentioned oddly heartwarming bit with sweedish chef and The Count counting two sad frogs, we have burt and ernie confounding Doc, Cookie Monster eating all of Janice's cookies and Animal is INTTTOOO it, and my faviorite: Rizzo offers to sleep in Oscar's trash can, whcih he likes as he's never had a rat before. It's just little bits of crossover you never woudl've though tof. IT's also heartwarming Kermit recognizes them, as I forget he started on public tv, but it's nice to see him greet his old friends and let both groups of friends mingle.

We also get the Seasame Street Holday Pagent of night before christmas. Burt lost the coin toss and has to play an old lady, and the two headed monster plays santa, to Sam's natural conservation (he also hilariously asks earlier "why am I here). I was unware the two headed monster existed before now, but I have now since legally adopted him. Them. Both of them.

Naturally we do get to see the Fraggles, though they aren't up top. My guess is it woudl've been a logistical nightmare on top fo the EXISTING logistical nightmare of having the muppets and seasame street casts together (given they share many performers.), so instead we just get Kermit and Robin visiting them, as Kermit is apparently aware of fraggle holes and told Robin to keep a look out. He did so they go down to fraggle rock (clap clap) down to fraggle rock.

This segment is charming with the Fraggles first being a bit aprehensive, but quickly warming up to our heroes, singing them a song, and explaning their ritual via the song: they pass on pebbles to pass on to others. Boober

Gives Robin one as a show of friendship. It's really sweet. Robin later gives it to Grover. IT's really friggin cute.

The specials ending also just.. breaks my heart… Jim himself shows up. Yes jim. He talks to sproket.. and his line really warms it "They sure do look happy don't they sprocket? I Like it when their happy" It's simple.. but it really shows just the heart the guy has.. and how sad it'd be to loose him not long after.

Before I get to my fianl thoughts on the special let's rank that baby.

Deservedly high. SOme other films still score a bit higher, but when ranking the top tier muppet stuff it's more splitting oranges. It's all pretty great.

This special.. is really good. I didn't have a ton to say.. btu it's mostly because it's just a charming holiday weekend with the muppets, ALL of them they could fit in, full of warm gags, warm moments and a generally warm and fuzzy feeling. It's fairly simple but with all the stuff piled in there it dosen't need to be more than just a fun weekend with some old friend. I sure do like it when their happy too jim. I sure do and I hope you do too.

[rphelperblog]

Chain of Gold Book Quote Rp Meme

by Cassandra Clare- feel free to change pronouns or edit quotes for rp purposes

“There is no better distraction in this world than losing oneself in books for awhile.” 

“I see you have decided to follow in the long familial tradition of poor decision-making.” 

After all, what are rules for it not to be broken?” 

“You are who you are, made by the sum of your choices and actions.” 

“You look ill, is it my dancing? Is it me personally?”

“I wonder sometimes if it is easier to be brave when one is young, before one knows truly how much there is to lose.” 

“People become locked in bitterness sometimes,and they wish to find someone, anyone, to blame for their grief.” 

“Stories offer a thousand fresh starts.” 

“Men like the idea of a woman they can rescue.” 

“We don’t always love people who deserve it.” 

"People can be awful when they're in love.” 

“Searching for the one is what leads to all the misery in this world, searching for many is what leads to all the fun.” 

“Sometimes you have to stand back and let people do what they are good at, even if it seems like madness at the time.” 

“The most interesting women are always the most whispered about.” 

“That's everyone's dream, isn't it, really? Instead of many who give you little pieces of themselves-one who gives you everything.” 

“all the stories are true.”

“Drink, and you will sleep; sleep, and you will not sin; do not sin, and you will be saved; therefore, drink and be saved.” 

“I hope to live up to your expectations.”

“Do not confuse conditioning with a native inability.” 

"Orange is not the colour of seduction. Orange is the colour of despair, and pumpkins.”

"Don't be frightened. What shall we talk about? Do you like stories?"

“Ah, yes, who will be graced by my brother’s attentions?

“When he was six, he threw up in his own shoe.”

"Tea is always an excuse for a clandestine agenda.” 

“She wondered if not being able to help the people you loved was the worst feeling in the world.” 

“I let you come to my salon because you amuse me. Because you are a child - a silly and beautiful child, who touches fire because it is lovely, and forgets that it will burn him.” 

"Someone to be inspired by. Someone to know their secrets. Would you like to be a muse?"

“I could have done that on my own.”

“Not every bit of a good story is true, It’s the story that’s important.” 

“There’s no need to look at me like that, brother. I wouldn’t say yes, but I could immortalize the experience in my novel.”

“I should like to have a portrait in the attic that would show all my sins, while I stayed young and beautiful.” 

"I would like to be a hero.”

“The point of stories is not that they are objectively true, but that the soul of the story is truer than reality. Those who mock fiction do so because they fear the truth.” 

“Nobody’s ever tried to seduce me at all,

“Thank you for letting them borrow the carriage to come and get me

"But at least we can always pick up a book and read it anew. Stories offer a thousand fresh starts.” 

“That's everyone's dream, isn't it, really, instead of many who give you little pieces of themselves - one who gives you everything.” 

“I loathe waltzing.”

“Memories can be bitter as well as sweet.” 

“Sometimes grief and worry must take the form of action,” 

“How much is love meant to hurt?”

“I am his sister. I do not appreciate being overlooked.” 

“You decide the truth about yourself. No one else. And the choice about what kind of person you will be is yours alone.” 

"But we suffer for love because love it worth it.” 

“The romance is never over,”

We do not wait to be saved by others. We save ourselves.” 

“Perhaps I should send for my cat.” 

“I am going to kiss your mother now, flee if you will, children. If not, we could play Ludo when the romance is over.”

"Tell me the name of the shadow that is always hanging over you. I can become a shadow. I could fight it for you.” 

“Please recall that I am the pale neurasthenic one and you are the stern heroic one, it is very tedious when you mix up our roles.”

“I feared your parents would not have considered it the kind of tale suitable for a young lady’s ears,”

“Can ghosts lie?”

“A ghost with a sense of propriety. That is funny.”

“You know the stories of my grandfather, I am sure?”

“We do not get to choose when in our lives we feel pain. It comes when it comes, and we try to remember, even though we cannot imagine a day when it will release its hold on us, that all pain fades. All misery passes. Humanity is drawn to light, not darkness.”

“She supposed it was not the most romantic thing in the world to say that every time she saw him she felt as if she'd been attcked by a waterfowl, but it was true.”

“Don’t you blame this on me!”

“It means unusually pretty. Oddly beautiful. It denotes having a face with character.”

“Pretty-ugly? She’s not ugly!”

“Please do not use metaphors. It gives me the pip.”

“He’s grown into everything now,”

“...It is easier to point the finger at one person than to admit everyone made mistakes.” 

“Many choices were not easy-they were near impossible, and there was no point hating people who were forced to make them.” 

you may speak however badly of yourself as you like, but it does not make it true. You decide the truth about yourself. No one else. And the choice about what kind of person you will be is yours alone,"

“Does it need be said twice that it’s terrible?” 

“Ghosts are completely honest. I keep telling you, it was mice who knocked your silver mirror behind the desk and broke it.”  

“Why have you blocked this door? I demand to know what’s going on!”

“Do not let those who cannot see the truth tell you who you are. You are the flame that cannot be put out. You are the star that cannot be lost. You are who you have always been, and that is enough and more than enough. Anyone who looks at you and sees darkness is blind.” 

“How nice for you to be related to such an important sort of demon,”

“It is as if one was bitten by a duck and years later one shot a completely different duck and ate it for dinner, and called that revenge.”

He was a very unprepossessing child. Scowly, and he hadn’t grown into his nose.”

“I did not raise you to be horse thieves and scallywags,and I recall very clearly that I told you—”

“I believe that’s the shade they call ‘ashes of roses.’ Very popular in Paris.”

“And during that year, I will do nothing. What kind of person do you think I am?” 

“Push up your sleeve, then, there’s a good fellow,”

“No one told you to go out patrolling for demons dressed like an extra from 'The Importance of Being Earnest” 

[linkspooky]

Dabi’s Self Suicide

I don’t know if you’ve noticed this, but Dabi is someone who has a tendency to make things about himself. In the League of Villains which is identifiably a group dynamic, Dabi takes every available opportunity to insist that he is alone, he is just along for the ride. A single man, with a single conviction, should be enough to change the world. He has a tendency to act like he’s the most important one here, he’s the one whose going to bring an end to hero society all on his own and yet at the same time he has no sense of identity. He has no self. He doens’t even have a name. Hawks asks him his name and he literally responds with [redacted]. I think this paradox of Dabi’s is at the core of figuring out who he is, and who he is not. 

1. Father Feelings

There’s something important to understand about Dabi, and just like always it starts with the family. I don’t think a lot of people realize how truly unfeeling, callous, cold towards Dabi Endeavor really was. I know we all, even I have used the golden child / scapegoat dynamic to describe Dabi and Shoto, but one important detail is that Dabi wasn’t always the scapegoat, he was the golden child at first. 

More important than Endeavor’s own feelings, is Dabi’s in this flash back. From the start, Dabi thought he was a normal kid in a normal family. He thought he had a normal dad. He even liked his super cool hero dad. Dabi wanted to train with him, wanted his attention and time, but these are just things a normal kid wants. 

However, Dabi was conceived of for very abnormal reasons. From the start, going into the whole affair, Endeavor’s intentions were wrong. Dabi was expected to carry on Endeavor’s legacy for him, he was the center of his attention, the center of his world. Dabi tried his best to carry all of those expectations as much as he reasonably could. 

However, there is literally nothing Dabi could have done in that situation to satisfy Endeavor. It’s not even about being born with the wrong quirk. It’s Endeavor who was wrong. From the start, Endeavor wasn’t interested in having a child or loving a child, but rather having a miniature Endeavor, Touya was just a vessel, to carry all of Endeavor’s hopes and dreams and live vicariously through him. However, that’s impossible.E ven if Touya had been born with the right quirk, that was impossible. You can’t live through another person. Touya’s success never would have been Endeavor’s. Endeavor would hae resorted to the exact same abuse, manipulation, control. Touya was never meant to be his own person, and that’s why even now, even becoming Dabi who is the rejection of everything Endeavor is, he still forms his entire personhood around Endeavor. It’s not that kids choose to form their personhood around their parents, they have to form themselves around their parents, we literally learn how to be people by interacting with other people especially during the developmental years. The same ones that Touya died during. 

Endeavor’s actions towards Touya is that he not only made Touya carry all of his emotions for him, he made Touya bear the brunt of his hurt feelings, all of his expectations, but then when Touya couldn’t carry them He blamed Touya. He tossed him aside. He made Touya feel, that something was wrong with Touya, and that was why he was no longer getting his father’s attention. It’s not anything Touya did, or anything Touya could do about, Touya was literally born wrong. 

It’s literally what he crawled to Natsuo asking. Yet, still Touya tried to fix himself. He was the golden child, now he’s the scapegoat, and Touya feels he did something wrong, so he keeps trying to fix himself, keeps trying to train on his own, and it doesn’t work because it could never work until it results in his eventual suicide and then how does Endeavor refer to it. 

Touya was just another tragic accident. Just a little mistake, along the road to creating Shoto. I’m not trying to explain away any of Dabi’s actions, just explain the way that Dabi regards himself, rather, Dabi literally has no sense of self at all. It’s been completely smashed to pieces. It’s ash. it’s dust. It’s just gone. Dabi’s name may as well just be [redacted]. There was also once a time that Shoto worried that he was more like his father within himself, but he got help from the people around him to realize he’s his own person, help that Dabi never got. 

2. Sins of the Father

So it’s like a genetic trait in the Todoroki family to be completely self absorbed, and dense to the emotions of other people, to the point where you don’t really see other people’s feelings. Like father, like son, like other son. However, Endeavor’s just like that, whereas Dabi and Shoto were made that way. Imagine what it was like to be Shoto, to be constantly told, you’re different from them, you’re the special one, you’re the chosen one. To the point where you couldn’t even play with your siblings, or be a part of everyone’s normal lives, no you were forced to be special. Shoto is oblivious to other people’s emotions because he was literally forcibly separate from other people, and even his mother who was his strongest emotional tie during literally most of his developmental years. 

Empathy is literally formed by interacting with people. You can’t form it or even have it, if your interactions with people are cut off and severely limited. You learn about how other people feel by normal social interaction, something that both Touya and Shoto were eventually cut off from. Touya from dying, Shoto from his mother being hospitalized. After that their ability to form connections with others was severely hampered. 

One funny thing about Shoto is he kind of acts like he’s the protagonist of his own narrative. So does Bakugo. That’s why he goes “Get out of the way all you extras.” Shoto’s the one with the tragic backstory. Shoto’s the one with this motivation to defy his father’s wishes. However, Shoto’s not the main character, he’s not the hero of the story, and it’s actually important that he’s not because the literal setting of the story is a society where everyone has the potential to be a hero. Kind of like how the point of Miles Morales story is that everyone can be spiderman. Shoto, also doesn’t really want to be a main character, or special boy, all Shoto has ever wanted was to connect with his siblings, to have the normalcy that everyone else has. In a society where everyone, even his own father is so desperately trying to stand out, Shoto wants the safety and security of normalcy. 

So you kind of have this paradox in Shoto’s head. Shoto kind of thinks of himself as a main character, even though that’s not really what he wants to be, just because that’s what’s been forced into his head the entire life. The emotional isolation of an abusive parent still ahs an effect on you, even when you’re aware, like Shoto was, that what Endeavor was saying was wrong. No one can grow up properly in isolation, that’s why kids need to interact with other kids and grow up together. 

So, I think the utlimate explanation for Dabi’s attitude towards the rest of the league is this. I’m the main villain. I’m the biggest threat. I’m the one who is going to bring an end to hero society all on my own. 

Once again this ties back to Shoto’s trauma, and Dabi’s. Touya didn’t want to be the special one, he was forced to be. Touya thought he was a normal kid, with a normal dad until he suddenly wasn’t. Then, Touya tried his hardest to be the special one until he literally broke his body, and his dad went no nevermind, turns out you were an extra. 

Saying Dabi is just doing this for Endeavor’s attention is oversimplifying. There’s a need to give a narrative to pain. Shoto even does it. Shoto literally narrates his life, he dumps his life story on everyone who will listen. People who are traumatized, want to give some sort of special meaning to their trauma, they want to feel important, because that in some way might justify what happened to them. If they can’t feel loved, they can try feeling important, like someone who mattered. Otherwise, Dabi is literally just someone who died and got forgotten. Otherwise, he’s just a sad little mistake, the same way his father regards him. Dabi can’t let the league in, because he has to do this on his own to prove he’s special. 

Dabi has this very individualistic and self centered approach to changing the world. He has to do it all on his own. He has to play mastermind. He was to orchestrate Endeavor’s rise and fall, and once again these are coping behaviors. Touya couldn’t control his abandonment, he had no agency in that, so he tries to pretend he’s in control of everything now. Even Dabi burning himself, his self-harming,it’s pain he’s in control of because he’s doing it to himself, father isn’t forcing him to train until he breaks anymore. 

Shoto sees himself as a main character. Dabi sees himself as the main villain. 

However, at the same time. Dabi hates himself. He loathes himself. It comes out in his self loathing behaviors, but more than that every thing Dabi does is an act of self destruction. Dabi has no feelings, no friends, no family, because he’s trying to destroy all those things. 

Dabi has no sense of self, because Endeavor has ruined him to the point where he’s still Endeavor’s empty vessel after all these years of separation from him. Dabi has no self, and also he doesn’t want one. He doesn’t want to grow past this point. 

Dabi has entirely fictionalized his life. That’s why he makes a dramatic reveal. Hee wants to turn his life into a tragedy, where he is the main character, where he is the one that Shoto and Endeavor cannot save. Because at least this way, he will not be forgotten. Unable to grasp for love, he tries to grasp for some kind of improtance, to change the world instead. In that scenario, it makes sense Dabi would distance himself from the league. I don’t think Dabi knows what his true feelings towards theleague are. In fact, I don’t even think he thinks about them. Who cares about what his feelings are? They are entirely separate from what he must do. Any feelings he has, any regrets, are going to burn away when he explodes like a bomb to ruin his father’s life. 

Dabi’s wavering motivations, his constant flipping between different emotions, like he’s channel surfing, I dont’ believe we’re supposed to read into every single thing he says, but rather notice how constantly he’s changing what he’s saying, because Dabi has no stable sense of self. We’re also supposed to see why he has no stable sense of self, because he’s all alone. 

This is the climax of Dabi’s big revenge play, it was supposed to end here, with the tragic protagonist dying. However, I think it’s actually really important in this arc that Dabi gets upstaged. Dabi is not the main character, Dabi’s not even the main villain. He’s not even the only character whose the descendant of a hero. It’s also, really important that Compress is the one who upstages his reveal.

What’s that? You thought I was a background character! It turns out I had this important motivation all along. The pacing is weird but it does achieve the intended effect. Dabi thought this was his moment, but that was actually bad for him. Dabi’s main flaw is that he tries to do all of these things along, but he’s not the only one who dreams of a better world. Dabi, Toga, Shigaraki, Mr. Compress says that all of their dreams are important at the same time. They are all simultaneously main characters. 

Dabi doesn’t get to have his moment, but I think it’s narratively important that he didn’t get to have it, because Dabi does no favors for himself by cutting himself off from the league. It’s meant to be a character flaw, Dabi shouldn’t get his revenge play, because his revenge play ends up with him dying at the end to spite Endeavor one fainly time. Dabi can’t achieve his dreams, because he hasn’t figured out who he is, or even who he wants to be yet. He just knwos what he doesn’t want to be. He just knows what he’s not. He’s not Endeavor. However I don’t think there’s going to be some big twist reveal about his character where he’s like, I secretly cared about the league, or my family all along, I was secretly a soft guy at heart. Those feelings are there. It’s not a problem of being unfeeling with Dabi, rather that Dabi has no central sense of self to stabilize all those feelings around, thus we see him swinging wildly back and forth. I think while Dabi obviously has feelings towards both of those groups of people, a self is something he’ll have to develop over time when he finally introduces himself to the league. When he’s forced to live, past the tragic ending of his play. 

Who will Dabi be when he realizes he has to live past his imagined revenge, who can he become? I think his development from this point will be incredibly interesting to wait, watch and see. 

[coonhoundcat]

Negotiation | Part 2

-Did you know that "O'Pa" and "Titi" can be used as nonbinary terms for a parent and an uncle/aunt, respectively? I didn't, until today-

Part 1

"What the fuck was that, Tech?"

"I'm so sorry, Admin-"

"We had them right on the line, and you fucking broke the headset?"

Tech threw their hands up over their chest, palms out, appeasing, defensive. Good lord. Admin was going to punch their sorry lights out. And Tech couldn't exactly blame them.

".... Okay. Now I have to fucking send Hero 66 to catch Villain before they fucking leave." Admin rubbed at their temples, finally breaking their murderous eye-contact to slide a hand over their upper face. "And someone needs to go check on Hero 118. Who knows what Villain's done to that kid."

"Right here, O'Pa."

"Not your O'Pa," Admin answered instinctively, immediately turning to see Hero 118 duck into the room. "but I'm glad you're back. What's with your face? Villain didn't fu-flipping break it, did they? Go clean that up."

Hero 118 rubbed gingerly at their nose, flaking off a few bits of dried blood. "Just hit a little rough when I tackled Villain-- not even bleeding, anymore."

"You weren't supposed to tackle-" Admin groaned, pressing both palms to their face.

118 simply ignored the disappointment directed their way; "Hey, I don't know what's going on, and I'm pretty sure Villain is insane-- but they agreed to help. And, I quote, they wanted me to tell you that they, 'really enjoyed the negotiator'. What in the world did you say, Titi?"

It was not difficult for the Tech to imagine Villain's overly-sarcastic smirk accompanying that remark. Why Villain would willing come to the organization's aid after that... Tech waved off the young hero's question, suddenly nauseous.

"Oh, and, uh, they said that they want one of these... their own earpiece. In purple. They said it has to be in purple?" 118 shook their head, and Tech caught the word "weirdo" muttered under their breath.

"Good. I'll have 66 find a way to get that out to them. Now go-" Admin physically turned 118 around, pushing them toward the door, "go take a shower. You look like a thug. A very poorly prepared thug."

Admin wasted no time in turning back to the Tech, "And you are off of verbal contact, with any active communication line. This fit will not happen again. You'll be on planning and audio surveillance only until I can trust you to do your-" Admin glanced at the door, finding that Hero 118 had in fact left, "damn job."

Admin glared at Tech for a few moments, before turning to leave. "Get back to your desk."

--

"One, two, three, honeybee."

"Reading you clear, Villain. Mic is fully functional. Heroes 66 and 93 are on their way."

"Oh. You're not-" Tech could hear the surprise, and the quick recovery. They leaned hack in their chair. Villain had been expecting them? No, of course they would, they couldn't know-

"What's your name?"

"I'm the Operator. Nice to meet you. You have roughly ninety seconds before our agents will join you."

"Eh... Uh huh. And, uh, what about that negotiator I was talking to, the other day? Where're they?"

Tech fiddled with their sleeve cuff, staring blankly at the desktop. Maybe they should just take their headset off entirely. Let Operator handle everything themselves. As if that were an option. Admin would have their hide.

".... they do not currently have speaking authorization."

That was a kind way to put it.

"Ooooohhh." There was a pause. "Can they hear me though, right now?"

Tech froze. Oh god.

"...... Yes?"

OH GOD. Tech could hear the grin through Villain's open line. What did they even WANT?

"So I heard that there's this little- ah, shoot. Hold that thought. Looks like your little heroes have arrived. I guess we're getting this little show on the road."

"Affirmative. The Bridge is ready for infiltration and rescue. All on you three."

The next few minutes were dead silent, save for a few quick whispers of "Over there-" and "Head down". Tech flipped through the hacked feeds, hunched over and tense, briefly glancing every-so-often at the vitals sheets splayed across Monitor Two. Probably for the best that the Tech didn't have their own scan up there. The team was gone. Nowhere to be seen on the feeds. It meant they were doing remarkably well, but it was still nerve-wracking. The quiet was nerve-wracking.

And then the explosions were nerve-wracking.

"God damn-" heavy gunfire crashed through the headset as all three vital cards spiked, throwing up warnings and alarms.

Suddenly there was yelling and screaming, scuffling and awful squelching.

"Shit-- last one to the hall is a meat shield!" That was Villain, with pounding footsteps-

"WAIT!"

"Not on your LIFE!"

The footsteps, the echoing gunshots seemed to last forever; Tech sat sweating in their chair, flipping fervently between videos, now filled with guards running and chaos and blood and then a crash sounded through the headset, lining up perfectly with the collapsing cargo bins on screen. There they were.

The audio grew quiet again, in as much as the heavy, disjointed breathing of three adults was quiet in comparison to that. But there were no footsteps-- they must've stopped here. Tech stared through the monitor at the bin heap. Sitting there, unmoving. They had to be here, nearby.

Villain drew in a deep breath, "Well this is a fine barricade."

"You were going to let me die-"

"Oh, don't be like that. So whiney, hardly a loss anyway--" Villain let out a breathless laugh, "Oi, Operator-person, we've been found out, takin' a breather behind a makeshift blockade now. Nobody on this side's dead, yet."

"Copy that, Villain. Medical and rescue services are still in place. Do what you have to do. But try to bring our heroes back in one piece."

"Yeah, yeah." Tech could hear Villain's head drop back to rest on a metal bin. They must be leaned against the on-screen stack.

"Y'know, I usually work alone; lots like you-- you slow me down."

"Please shut up." the winded voice had to belong to Hero 93.

"No, no, really. But there was this one partner... golly, we worked wonders together. They were a straight-up prodigy. Always on top of their game. Everybody saw it, y'know?"

The Tech pressed a hand to their stomach, starting to feel sick. God, their chest and face felt like they were burning up. Maybe they should take the headset off-

"Is now really the time for stories, Villain?" Did the Operator always sound so cold? Tech was grateful, anyway.

".... Perhaps not. I simply... wonder what happened to them. Quite often, really. They were quite a remarkable Hero. But I suppose we've more important things to do, yeah?"

There was some shuffling, and Villain spoke a little louder, brasher. "Alright, everyone up, into the gunfire we go!"

[elvenmother]

I posted 174 times in 2022

34 posts created (20%)

140 posts reblogged (80%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@grogusmum

@ghostofaboy

@ltleflrt

@brennacedria

@yourspookyginger

I tagged 119 of my posts in 2022

Only 32% of my posts had no tags

#fanfic - 19 posts

#star wars - 19 posts

#fanfiction - 19 posts

#my writing - 18 posts

#we can be heroes - 17 posts

#marcus moreno - 17 posts

#marcus moreno x f!reader - 16 posts

#marcus moreno x reader - 16 posts

#context and perspective - 16 posts

#jack 'whiskey' daniels - 10 posts

Longest Tag: 135 characters

#i known so many people who were huge parts of the fandom who now distance themselves from the things that used to be a defining part...

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

Context and Perspective: Fun Filled Weekend

Pairing: Marcus Moreno x F Reader Rating: Teen. Warnings: None so far. Chapter: 3/? Word count: 2605

Summary: The newest member of the Heroics has gone missing and as one of the better-known Villains on the scene, you are blamed. Then your sidekick goes missing. You must go after the Heroic’s leader to try to get them back and clear your name.

Note: This has not been beta read so apologies for any mistakes. Also my first time writing for We Can Be Heroes and Marcus Moreno. First mention of Marcus in this chapter too!

Part Two | Part One

Sipping from the delicate china teacup you had been given, you took a moment to ponder the situation you found yourself in. Here you were, drinking tea and nibbling on homemade biscuits in the lair and home of one of the most notorious villains in the United States. To your right sat Chloe, your best friend’s niece and your sidekick, who was nervously chewing while trying not to make eye contact with the huge woman sitting opposite you both. Orphan Maker. You’d only ever heard stories of her, and now you were sitting on her sofa while she watched you eat her freshly baked snacks. 

“So,” You began before taking another sip of tea. “I just wanted to say thank you for the invite. Your lair, erm, home is lovely.”

Orphan Maker smiled warmly, her face lighting up at your compliment. “Oh, thank you. Is the tea alright? Can I get you anything else? I have some fruit juices if you’d like a cold drink. Would you like anything else to eat?” Her accent had a strange hint of Scandinavian.

“No.” You shook your head. This was so weird. You could feel Chloe tensing up beside you. “No, thank you. Everything is lovely. So, erm, you asked to speak with me in person?”

“Ah, yes.” Orphan Maker smiled again and nodded as though she’d forgotten why she’d asked you here. Setting her teacup down, she leaned back in her chair and looked you over carefully. “I wanted to meet you. Get a read on you, I suppose. See if it really was you.”

“Really was me?” You were confused. “You mean Freefall? You think I took him too?”

“The thought had crossed my mind. It didn’t fit with the evidence, but I had to consider it. You understand?” Orphan Maker shrugged. You didn’t know what to say. She was right, of course. Your name had been on the news connected with his disappearance. Everyone would be thinking it, even if it was only in passing.

“And now?” You set your own cup down on the coffee table.

“Now it’s obvious to me that you had nothing to do with this.” She smiled, and once more the warmth of her smile lighting up her face. “This matches with what my contacts have discovered.”

“So, do you know where he is?” Chloe asked suddenly, making you jump a little. She’d kept so quiet since you arrived you had wondered if she was ever going to speak. But apparently, a few freshly made ginger biscuits from Orphan Maker had relaxed her a little.

“I don’t.” Orphan Maker shook her head; you could swear she almost looked sad. “I must admit this whole thing has me puzzled. He’s not very well known. A new kid on the block, as it were. Odd power too. Apparently, he flies up and then builds up speed to just hurl himself at things. If someone wanted to make a statement, there would be better targets to take.”

“Easier targets too.” You pondered out loud. Orphan Maker nodded. “Also, if someone had him, wouldn’t they have made demands already?”

“I thought the same thing. Something about this whole thing feels weird, and I don’t like weird. Well, not this kind of weird anyway.” Orphan Maker signed and leaned forward. Her broad shoulders hunched as she rested her elbows on her knees and leaned closer to you and Chloe. “Truthfully, I’ve asked and even threatened everyone I thought might be involved in this. No one has him. No one wanted to take him. As you said, there are better and easier targets than a new boy.”

“You can’t have called me here just to tell me you found nothing.” You grabbed another biscuit as you picked your teacup back up. Taking a slow sip, you watched Orphan Maker’s smile shift from warm to conspiratorial.

“Very true.” She laughed softly. “I have a contact inside Heroics HQ. My source says they are in a panic and are grasping at straws. But more interestingly, the investigation has now been taken over and handled by their leader himself.”

“Marcus Moreno?” You were shocked. Moreno hadn’t been actively part of the team since his wife’s death a few years ago. Chat on the server said he’d taken to leading from behind a desk.

“The very same.” Orphan Maker nodded. “As I understand it, he recruited and trained Freefall.”

“He probably feels responsible if something has happened to him.” 

“Probably.” Orphan Maker stood up and walked over to one of the many plant-covered side tables. Pausing for a moment, she slid open a drawer and pulled out a piece of paper before returning to the sitting area. “Here. Freefall’s home address. Perhaps you can find something the idiot Heroics missed.”

~~~~~

A short time later, you and Chloe left Orphan Maker’s lair/home and headed back toward civilisation. Chloe had been quiet almost the whole time at Orphan Maker’s and even quieter since leaving. Walking towards an abandoned building so the two of you could change out of your costumes, you watched the young woman with concern.

“You ok?” You asked finally as you pulled enough boards away from the building’s doorway to force your way in.

“What?” She seemed startled. “Yeah. I, just, Orphan Maker was intense.”

“Yup.” You couldn’t help laughing. “But nice.”

“Yeah, that threw me a little.” Chloe seemed in another world as she started pulling off her costume. “I just don’t get it.”

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23 notes - Posted July 13, 2022

#4

Context and Perspective: Sneaky Assistance

Pairing: Marcus Moreno x F Reader  Rating: Teen. Warnings: Swearing Chapter: 5/? Word count: 1922

Summary: The newest member of the Heroics has gone missing and as one of the better-known Villains on the scene, you are blamed. Then your sidekick goes missing. You must go after the Heroic’s leader to try to get them back and clear your name.

Note: This has not been beta read so apologies for any mistakes.  This is my first time writing for We Can Be Heroes and Marcus Moreno. More mentions of Marcus in this chapter! We’re getting close.

Part Four | Part Three | Part Two | Part One

You spent all day at work with a strange feeling in your stomach. Orphan Maker hadn’t outright said she knew who you were but the time and place of the meeting definitely hinted at it. She had seemed very friendly when you had met face to face, but her reputation made you uneasy.

There was also the possibility that her reputation, like your own, had been blown out of proportion. The media and the wider public knew you as a villain. You had been accused of crimes you hadn’t committed, along with your good deeds twisted to suit someone else's narrative. Perhaps Orphan Maker has suffered the same fate. All you really knew of her had been based on public perception and gossip from the Server. Context was everything; you knew that. Surely if she really were a bad person, she wouldn’t be helping you. If she really were a villain and knew who you were, she would have already come after you.

By the time 5 pm rolled around, you were feeling a little calmer but still cautious. Getting up from your desk, you cracked your back and looked around, watching as your co-workers left. Were you putting them in danger working here? It crossed your mind every so often but today seemed particularly relevant. Even if Orphan Maker was the nice person she appeared to be, then there was still the matter of two powered people connected to you going missing. And, even if the disappearances were nothing to do with you, if someone was targeting people with powers, then just being here could put the office in the crosshairs of someone.

“You ok?” A soft voice broke you out of your thoughts, making you jump. Looking to your left, you could see your co-worker Dale's round, worried face. 

“Oh, yeah. I was just…” You started to laugh. You had begun to spiral. That’s what you had been doing. “I was thinking and sort of got lost in it.”

Dale nodded. “I do that too sometimes.” He chuckled back. “I can get lost in my own head, thinking up scenarios. It can totally get out of control. You know, I once made myself cry thinking about a puppy I was only thinking vaguely about getting.”

You laughed again, and Dale’s smile grew. “Yeah, I was getting carried away with myself.”

“Yeah. You working overtime?” He nodded thoughtfully.

“Oh, no. No.” You looked around at the empty bullpen and started to gather up your things. “No. Like I said, got lost in my own head. I’m heading out now.”

“Me too.” Dale gestured to his coat draped over one arm. “Walk you out?”

“Sure.”

You made your way towards the elevators silently, pushing the button and then waiting patiently. Other people were still milling about in the break room, their conversation drifting through the empty hallways as the two of you stood waiting. Soon the elevator arrived, and you stepped inside.

“Mondays.” Dale laughed out of nowhere and exaggeratedly rolled his eyes. “Am I right?”

“Erm, I guess.”

“So are you heading straight home or…?” Dale left the question hanging, looking over at you expectantly. 

“No, I have to meet someone.” You replied cautiously. You knew where this was going. Dale had asked out every woman if your department at some point. He was sweet but a little too enthusiastic sometimes. Always managing to say the wrong thing and making simple situations kind of weird. 

“Oh, that’s cool. Cool.” Dale nodded and pretended to act casual. “So where are you meeting him?”

You opened your mouth to answer but stopped. You had no idea if this contact was male or female. You only had a place, and you assumed they would make contact with you once they arrived. But you couldn’t tell Dale any of that. Sighing, you turned to him as the doors opened. 

“Dale, I have to meet a friend of my mom’s.” You weren’t sure where the lie came from, but Dale seemed to buy it as his smile returned as the two of you exited the elevator. You cringed inwardly. Why keep his hopes up like this? You weren’t interested in him, but you also didn’t want to hurt his feelings. 

Once outside the building, Dale was looking at you expectantly again, and you could feel the knot in your stomach growing. You should be preparing to meet a supervillain’s contact, not worrying about upsetting a co-worker who clearly couldn’t read the signs that you weren’t into him. 

“Thanks for walking me out, Dale.” You nodded politely. “I have to go now. See you tomorrow.”

“Yup.” Dale called after you as you walked down the street. “Tomorrow. Bright and early. Good old Tuesday.”

~~~~~

Frozenstar Memorial park was a short walk from your office, and you quickly found there was only one bench next to any magnolia trees. Sitting down, you glanced at your phone, it was 5:23, and you had no new messages. You had thought about letting Jada know your plan but weren’t sure whether to get her hopes up or not. This was a shot in the dark.

The park was moderately busy for a Monday evening, with families and couples walking around the winding paths passing beautifully maintained flowerbeds and sculptures. You had to hand it to the Heroics; this was a gorgeous monument to Frozenstar. 

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24 notes - Posted August 14, 2022

#3

Context and Perspective: Mister Heroic Himself

Pairing: Marcus Moreno x F Reader  Rating: Teen. Warnings: Swearing. Chapter: 6/? Word count: 1969

Summary: The newest member of the Heroics has gone missing and as one of the better-known Villains on the scene, you are blamed. Then your sidekick goes missing. You must go after the Heroic’s leader to try to get them back and clear your name.

Note: This has not been beta read, so apologies for any mistakes.  This my first time writing for We Can Be Heroes and Marcus Moreno.

Marcus is finally here!

Part Five | Part One

You’d gone home after meeting with B feeling conflicted. On the one hand, there was a plan of sorts in place. On the other hand, that plan might get you arrested or killed outright if it went wrong. A meeting with Mister Heroics himself, Marcus Moreno. You didn’t know whether to laugh or cry at this level of desperation. 

You sat for a few hours in your apartment before finally plucking up the courage to call Jada. She needed to know. If something went wrong, then someone other than B needed to know where you had gone. She picked up after the third ring.

“Hey.”

“Hey.” You swallowed hard. Suddenly your mouth was super dry. “How’ve you been?”

“Fuck.” She sighed. “I’m doin’ ok, I guess. Just wish I knew where she was.”

“Me too.”

“I was cold with you the other night. I’m sorry.”

You could feel tears building up and stinging your eyes. “You have nothing to apologize for. You’re stressed about your niece; it’s totally understandable.”

“No.” She sighed again. “No. It wasn’t ok. None of this is your fault. I know that. I just… What am I gonna tell my sister?” You heard a loud sob.

“We’ll find her and get her back.” You said confidently, although you felt nothing of the sort. “I’m working on something. That’s why I called.”

“Whaddya got?” Jada was immediately all business. “A lead?”

“Sort of.” You took a deep breath. “I reached out to Orphan Maker again and asked to speak to her person inside Heroics HQ.”

“And she helped?”

“She did. I met them today after work.” You decided to leave out the part where Orphan Maker knew your real identity. “They filled me in with a little of what they knew. I wanted them to put me in contact with Jess.”

“Yes!” Jada sounded enthusiastic. “Yes, good girl! Good plan. Work with someone inside the Heroics to figure this shit out.”

“Yeah, well. Jess is overseas with Miracle Guy, so that went to crap pretty quickly.”

“Shit.”

“But,” You decided you need to get this next part out quickly, “the contact did suggest an alternative Heroic to work with. Marcus Moreno.”

You had expected Jada to perhaps yell or at least swear, but she was oddly silent. A few seconds passed before either of you spoke. 

“Marcus Moreno?”

“Yeah.” You bit your lip.

“Their leader? That Marcus Moreno?”

“Yeah?”

“Huh. I mean, I wouldn’t have thought of that, but it kinda makes sense.”

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27 notes - Posted September 3, 2022

#2

Context and Perspective: How Villains Are Made

Pairing: Marcus Moreno x F Reader  Rating: Teen. Warnings: None so far. Chapter: 1/? Word count: 1922

Summary: The newest member of the Heroics has gone missing and as one of the better-known Villains on the scene, you are blamed. Then your sidekick goes missing. You must go after the Heroic’s leader to try to get them back and clear your name.

Note: This has not been beta read so apologies for any mistakes.  Also my first time writing for We Can Be Heroes and Marcus Moreno although they aren’t really in this chapter.

Being labeled as a villain in a world full of heroes was not easy. First of all, you had to take extra precautions to protect your identity. Not just the same ones the heroes did. If they were found out and revealed, the worst that would happen is they would become overnight celebrities. Oh, poor them. The worst outcome for you would probably be prison. So guarding your identity, who you were out of the costume, became priority number one.

The second was listening to people talk about you like you were scum. Being the villain hadn’t been something you had wanted but you were damned if you were going to join those pathetic assholes who laughingly called themselves The Heroics.

~~~~~

You had first discovered your powers when you hit puberty. It was hard to control them at first but gradually you practiced and it became a little easier each day. Soon they were second nature to you and you were faced with the choice of what to do with them.

As luck, or fate, would have it another girl at your high school also came into her powers around the same time. Her name was Jess Campbell, and unlike you, her powers were not something she could hide. A physical mutation turned her from a slight 5’ 2 girl into a 8’ tall purple behemoth of a creature. Jess hadn’t been given the choice of a secret identity. Fate and genetics had decided for her.

You remember the day she told you the Heroics had approached her to join them. Jess was still only 14 at the time, and you remember how nervous she was as she told you about meeting the team leader. During the mid-nineties, Antonio Moreno was the charismatic leader, back when you thought the Heroics were actually worth respecting. Jess meeting him was like meeting the lead singer of a boy band and the president all rolled into one. You had been so jealous and had even considered revealing your own abilities at that point.

You had changed your mind, however, when Jess disappeared. Taken to Heroics headquarters to train. That’s what her mother had told you and her other friends when a group of you had gone looking for your shy friend. If joining the Heroics meant leaving your family and friends behind, then it definitely wasn’t for you. So you had decided to keep quiet for the time being.

It was 4 years later, at your graduation, that you finally saw Jess again. She was debuting in her new Heroic persona to give a speech to her former classmates. Violet Giant. You hated the name as soon as your principal said it. It was dumb. Jess wasn’t violet. She was more of a lilac hue and describing her as a giant felt mean somehow. There was way more to her abilities than just her size. But the name was official, so she was Violet Giant.

You hated to admit it, but Jess had seemed to really blossom under the Heroic training. You had known her as a shy girl who constantly doubted her own judgment and intelligence. The young woman who spoke at your graduation was wonderfully confident. 

Once the ceremony was over, you had joined the throngs of people crowding around Jess. Some wanted her autograph, some photos, and some like you had been her friends before her departure. Her face lit up when she saw you all.

“Guys!” She had turned to her assistant. Looking back, you were pretty sure the guy was a handler sent to keep her on the job. “Can I have a second with them? Please?” 

The guy had rolled his eyes but nodded, and Jess followed you and the others off to the side.

“It’s so good to see you.” She looked at each of your little group in turn. “I’ve really missed you.”

“How come you never called then?” Ashley McMahon, one of your friendship group's more blunt members, had put her hands on her hips. “It’s been 4 years, Jess. None of us have seen or heard from you in 4 years.”

You had watched as Jess’ eyes had filled with tears. “I wanted to. I wanted to call every day. But it’s not allowed. Contact with the outside. I could only see my family at the end of the month. You don’t understand. There are so many rules.” She had dropped her voice to a whisper. “I wanted to leave. I tried to once. But they told me I’d never live a normal life looking like this.” She had gestured to her giant purple form. “They said I’d be happier with them.”

“That is some cult-level shit right there.” Jada Jones, your best friend, had tutted. 

Jess hadn’t answered and had looked nervously back at her handler. “I gotta go, guys. It, it was really nice seeing you all again.”

That was the day you decided you would never join the Heroics. But it did leave you with the question of what to do with your powers.

~~~~~

To begin with, you tried to go freelance. Helping out people where you could. Foiling the odd bank robbery and stopping an occasional run-away train. But as more time passed, the more you attracted the attention of the Heroics. At first, they tried to recruit you. You remember Crushing Low, part of the new generation who had taken over from their parents, approaching you after a skyscraper fire.

“You’ve got talent. I’ll give you that.” He had smiled what you assumed he thought was a flirty smile at you. In reality, he just looked like a smug dick. “Ever thought of coming to work for the good guys?”

“So people who don’t work for the Heroics are the bad guys then?” You spat back, offended.

“No.” Crushing Low shook his head. “But people with powers tend to fall into two categories. The good guys, that’s us.” He used his thumbs to gesture to himself. You had rolled your eyes. “And the bad guys. You have powers, and you seem to want to help people, so I don’t understand why you wouldn’t want to join.”

“Maybe I prefer to work alone. Or maybe I just don’t like your stupid little club.”  And with that, you had flipped him off and flown away.

And with that, the Heroics had labelled you a villain. Anytime you helped people, the event was twisted in the media. Credit was often assigned to a Heroic who would arrive long after things were taken care of, while your presence at the scene was portrayed in a negative light. Sure, the people you help knew the truth, but they were small voices compared to the massive organization behind the Heroics.

Over time you grew to hate them. You hated their stupid names. You hated how their outfits were referred to as ‘unforms’ while yours was a ‘costume.’ You hated their arrogance.

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38 notes - Posted June 2, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

You know what? I hate Mando’s new ship.

There I said it. Why you ask?

It’s utter impractical for a bounty hunter. 

Sure it’s lovely to look at and goes fast. Great. But where is he meant to put the bounties he’s collected? Where is he meant to store his equipment? Where will he sleep or use the bathroom?

It’s a starfighter which is great for zipping around and fighting. But a bounty hunter needs their ship to be a home base. They need storage, they need to be able to collect living bounties and transport them.

Din’s new ship is pretty but useless.

40 notes - Posted January 27, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[supercorpkid]

How you met Maya’s parents.

Supercorp, Kara Danvers x Daughter!Reader, Lena Luthor x Daughter!Reader, Kelly Olsen x Niece!Reader

Word count: 2545.

It was a normal Thursday. Until it wasn’t anymore.

Jamie and Maya were in front of the school waiting for their parents to come pick them up. You fell a little behind, because the school counselor wanted to make sure you sent your application for the robotics thing she had you applied for.

“I just want to make sure you won’t miss the date. It's very important and prestigious…” Blah-blah-blah. You know all of this. She’s been telling you about this program for two years now. You look at Maya and Jamie talking, wishing the counselor would just shut up and let you go already, so you could join their conversation that sounds way more fun.

“Oh, my parents are here.” You hear Maya’s voice. “I’ll see you tomorrow!”

It’s all a blur after that. There is so much going on it’s hard for you to know what to do next. First, the school counselor is asking something about your project. Second, you hear a car accelerating on the street close to the school. Third, police sirens chasing said car. Fourth, Maya is crossing the street.

“MOM’S HERE, GOTTA RUN!” You yell, leaving a dumbfounded counselor behind. You change using your super speed.

You quickly pick up Maya, putting her on the other side of the sidewalk, and you run to the middle of the street to stop the car with your body. There’s a loud crashing sound, but you’re obviously not hurt. The police car stops behind it, and two cops leave it raising their guns at the two criminals still inside the car. They’re handcuffed and taken away in a little time, and just then you notice the crowd, the phones and the applause around you. You smile a little embarrassed from the attention.

You look to the sidewalk, and run to Maya, who’s being held by her dad while her mom asks her several questions on whether she is hurt, scared, and ok.

“Are you ok?” You add to the amount of questions.

“You saved me.” She says, eyes blown, pupils completely dark. “Thank you.”

“Thank you, Superkid.” Her mother says offering her hand, as in for you to shake it. You try not to use much strength, although it is kind of hard given the situation you were just in and you’re still very worked up after it.

“You saved our daughter!” Her dad chimes in, also thankful. “There’s nothing we can say to thank you for that.”

“No need.” You smile, shyly. “Just doing my job.”

“Superkid!” You hear Jamie’s voice coming closer. “That was incredible. You saved her!”

“Thank you, Ja-” You bite your tongue. “Random girl.” Nope, too forced.

“Oh, is this your girlfriend, Maya?” Her mother asks and you blush furiously at the thought of them knowing about you. It takes you a while to realize they are NOT talking about you, but about Jamie.

“Oh, Ah. That’s, um-” Maya tries to use her words, but she’s too confused to do so. You decide to interrupt.

“Well, glad to see you’re ok.” You say looking back at the street where the cars are having a hard time moving because there’s a broken car in the middle of it. “I should take this car out of here.”

You pick up the car, and right before flying away with it, you hear:

“Oh my God, she’s so strong.” Coming from Maya’s mouth.

“That kid is amazing.” Her dad agrees, and you smile to yourself again, while taking the car out of the way.

A few seconds later, though, you’re back in the school, in your old clothes and glasses. Running towards Maya like you were there the entire time.

“Babe, are you ok?” You rush in, holding her hands and looking at them for any bruises. “I saw what happened from the other side.”

“Superkid saved her.” Jamie says, with a grin, like she’s just giving you brand new information, and you hold a laughter back.

“Actually, this is my girlfriend.” Maya says to her parents and they both shake their heads agreeing.

“Well, it’s nice to meet you.” Her dad raises his hand and you, and you shake it, politely.

“Nice to meet you, Mr. Rose.” You say, still blushed from when he called you amazing a minute ago. You turn back to her mother. “Mrs. Rose.”

She doesn’t talk for a while. She just stares at you and you can see the wheels on her brain turning. Oh no. Not the…

“You’re a Luthor.” She says, matter-of-factly. Then turns to her husband. “She is Lena Luthor’s daughter. I’ve met them a while back.”

“What?” Maya’s dad lets go of her, turning rigid at the mention of your last name. “You can’t possibly be dating an evil Luthor.”

“She’s not evil!” You hear and you think it came from Maya’s mouth, only to realize a second later it was Jamie who said it, while reaching out, holding your shoulder to support you. “And her mother isn’t evil either. Just because Lex Luthor is the worst, doesn’t mean everyone in the Luthor’s family is too.”

You want to answer. You want to tell them to go fuck themselves because they just said you were amazing, and thanked you for saving their daughter’s life. And now they’re just staring at you like you’ve committed a crime, when you have done the exact opposite. But your words are stuck in your throat and your eyes are filled with tears before you can even form a sentence.

“You understand too little of the world, little girl.” It’s what her father answers. “You have no way to know that her mother is not evil, but I have. I’ve seen how L Corp treats people that dare to go against them.”

“Wait, you know my mom?” Your words finally come out, in complete shock and disbelief. Maya never mentioned any of that. She said her parents hated your family because Lex tried to mind control them, along with everyone else on Earth. And honestly, you know that feeling of being mind controlled by him, so you can’t blame them.

“We’ve met before.” He twists his nose while saying that. “A little too icy for my taste.”

“Dad, please. Let’s just go.” Maya asks, trying to push him out of the way.

You feel Jamie’s grip tightening around your shoulder, like telling you it’s time for you both to leave. You agree with your head, unclenching your jaw, still shooting daggers with your eyes. But, still, you breathe deep.

“Icy doesn’t mean evil. I hope you can understand that.” You say, and smile at Maya. “I’m just glad you’re ok.”

“Come on. My mami is here.” Jamie pulls you by the hand, and you let yourself follow her trying to ignore their looks to your back. Jamie wraps her arms around you and whispers in your ear. “No super hearing. It won’t do you any good.”

“Nothing about this has done me any good.” You manage to say, and Jamie shoves you inside Kelly’s momvan. And you’re so lost and sad, you don’t even understand why you’re going with her when you can just fly away. Weirdly, flying doesn’t feel like an option to you right now.

“Is everything ok? I heard that there was a car chase around here.” Kelly asks when Jamie walks in, and sits on the passenger seat next to her.

“Superkid saved everyone.” Jamie says with a smile, and you can see a smile coming up on Kelly’s face, while she starts driving away.

“Good for you!” Kelly says taking one hand out of the wheel, and patting your leg gently. “You must be so proud of yourself.”

“Yeah, it’s-Mhm-it’s…” You start, but soon you’re crying desperately, being very loud about it. “It sucks!”

“Hey, hey. No!” Jamie looks behind and reaches out to you. But she doesn’t know what to do or say, and Kelly doesn’t really understand what’s going on. They stare at each other for one second, until Kelly turns to the front again, breathing deep.

“Where would you like to go, honey?” You know she is talking to you, even though she’s using Jamie’s pet name. “Do you want to go home? To our place? Maybe you want to tell me more about what happened?”

“I’m sorry, auntie.” You dry your face, holding your tears back. “You can just stop the car here, and I’ll fly to L Corp. I have to work on a project.”

“I’ll drive you there.” She says and you agree with your head, because you really don’t want to fly right now. “Do you want to tell me what happened?”

“I’ll let Jamie fill you in after.” You shrug. “Right now, I just want to think about something else.”

They change the subject, but you don’t really pay attention to any of it. It feels so weird being loved when you’re wearing the ‘House of El’ crest on your chest, and just a minute later being hated on, when you’re wearing your glasses and there’s no alter ego helping you out of Luthor's name. One minute you’re Saving Face, the next one Earth Disgrace.

“Hey, little-Danvers.” Jamie says after Kelly parallel parks in front of L Corp. You look at her. “They’re dumbasses. They are the icy ones, ok?”

“Yeah. Thanks for your help back there.” You get out of the car and make your way inside the building. You know you have to work on your project, but you can’t even think right now, let alone come up with something new and innovatory. “Hey Aly, can you call my mom’s assistant and ask her if she’s busy right now?”

“Sure thing, Miss Luthor-Danvers!” Aly studies your face for a few seconds. “Everything alright, miss?”

“Um, yeah. It’s fine.” You agree and she does what you asked, even though she doesn’t look convinced at all.

“You can go up. She is not busy.” Aly says with a smile, and you match hers. You don’t even know what you’re going to say to Lena, but you feel you need her. You make your way to the last floor, and go inside her office. Lena stands up when she sees you, a smile on her face.

“There’s my little hero!” She says pointing at the images on the TV of you standing in front of the car. Hair blowing in the wind, hands on the waist, looking proud of yourself. Then she looks at you, looking sad and small in front of her. You get now why people think you’re two different people. These two images do not match. “My baby! What’s wrong?”

“I just want a hug.” You think about it for a second when you see her coming closer with arms open. “But I’d like some donuts more.”

Lena chuckles and asks her assistant to go out and buy you a box. She finally comes closer a while later, opens arms, and snugs you in. The tears come uninvited, and she just lets you cry for a while.

“Baby, what happened?” She presses when you don’t talk, only cry, for a few good minutes.

“I saved Maya.” You look at her, big watery eyes. “Her parents were so thankful, and it felt so good.”

Lena agrees with her head, because she understands how good it feels to save someone you love. It’s not the same as saving a person you’ve never met. Sure, both feel good. But saving someone you love is the most powerful and strong feeling you’ve ever felt.

“Then I was out of my supersuit and in my glasses and they just-” You choke on your words, and it’s like she knows what’s coming next. “They hated me!”

“Oh baby.” Lena brings you in for another hug. Tighter than the first one. She kisses your head a couple of times. “I’m sorry they can’t see what an amazing person you are. Suit or no suit. But that doesn’t make what you did today less important. It was incredible.” She holds your chin up, to look at her. “You’re incredible.”

“He said you are icy.” You say, and Lena’s response is a soft chuckle.

“Yes, well, men think that about powerful women.” She winks at you, unbothered. “I take it as a compliment.”

“Well, I don’t.” You pout and Lena cleans your face from your tears, same smile still on her lips.

“My love, they can only hurt us if we let them.” She says, raising her gaze at the door, calling her assistant in with the donuts for you. The box is placed on the table in front of you. Lena waits until she leaves, and turns back to you. “Come on, let’s eat donuts, and talk about how Superkid’s name is on everyone’s mouth today.”

“Is that a good thing?” You ask and she blinks at you like you’re asking a stupid question. You look back at the TV and see your video stopping the runaway car over and over again. Yeah. It’s a good thing.

Your phone rings at text, and you pick it up from your back pocket, while Lena goes for the donuts.

Maya: Sorry about my parents. They’re jerks.

You: Are you alright? It was quite the scare.

Maya: I’m 100% fine! Superkid saved me! Do you see now why she is my favorite hero?

You: Yes, I see now. I’m glad you’re ok. I’ll send a thank you card for your crush.

Maya: You’re my crush! Also, did I mention how sorry I am and how jerks my parents were?

You: You have.

Lena pulls your head towards her and kisses your forehead with a smile.

“You know, it’s not her fault her parents are jerks.” She says and you roll your eyes.

“Stop reading my texts.” You complain pretending to be upset, but you smile a little when she’s not looking.

You: Hey, we are not our parents, right?

Maya: No, we are not. You are the most comprehensive human being on the planet. That’s one of the things that make me love you.

You squeak in excitement when you read that, and stand up feeling so happy your feet don’t even touch the ground. You can’t stop reading the text over and over again.

“Hey! I brought donuts so we can celebrate you saving the people from your school!” Kara flies in, pink box in hands and Lena gives her an eyebrow raise.

“Beat you to it.” She adds with a smile, pointing at the pink box sitting on the table and Kara shrugs.

“The more the merrier!” Kara comes closer to you, pushing your shoulder down, making your feet touch the floor. “What’s with her?”

“Pretty sure her girlfriend just said she loves her.” Lena says with a smile, and Kara beams to you, looking as excited as you are.

“Seriously, you have to stop reading my texts.” You pretend to be annoyed, but you look back on your phone and a smile instantly comes.

You: You do, huh?

Maya: I do.

You: I love you too.

You love your girlfriend. You love being Superkid. You love donuts. And you love your moms very much. Turns out, your life’s insane, but it’s also pretty good.

Notes:

@sophixsa prompted this awesome idea, and I’m sorry it was a little sad at first, but happy ending, at least.

[dantelionwishes]

"Watanabe."

Sato spoke in a firm tone as he leaned against the wall behind him, arms crossed with difficult-to-read expression across his face. He was never a fan of lecturing his students like this, but it needed to be done every now and then. Kids were getting more and more stubborn nowadays, and he's not sure who to blame.

"We've discussed this in the past during our classes. Have you forgotten? Tell me." The teacher waited for an answer from the injured boy, his voice loud and clear with instruction.

A soft huff came from the boy. He felt like he was somehow dying and dead at the same time. Everything hurt. Everything felt terrible.

"... I was winning." He croaked. Whether that was really true or not didnt seem to matter. Maybe he fried his brain a little...

"You were winning in a losing battle with yourself, Watanabe." The teacher had raised his voice a little with urgency, "So many times. I've told you to never overuse your quirk like that." Even while wearing the mask it was clear how loud his voice was getting as he spoke, a growing exasperated appearance on his usually calm face.

"Do you understand the risks you physically take when you pull of stunts like these, Watanabe? Do you?"

....

He turned his head away from his teacher, grunting lightly. Hell, even that simple movement hurt like hell-- "Everyone's quirks b-.. Backfires somehow." Sniff. "... 's not my fault-... Not my fault mine sucks." If he had just gone a little further he could have knocked her out of the ring. Could have proceeded. Hell, he might have won the entire event!

A sigh.

He was crying. Sato took a deep breath to calm himself down and massaged the bridge of his nose.

"You're not listening to me, you can't even answer my question." His brain really was that close to getting melted, his student's basically delusional at this point. He can't think of anything else. Sato really is grateful to have a co-teacher like Lucca to act as referee. Their special class of unique students were a bit stubborn, almost comparable to the current third years when they were younger.

"I've told everyone in class to not overuse their quirk, not just you." The teacher leafed through Taishiro's medical papers, briefly going through the history of his quirk. "Do you understand where I'm going, Watanabe?" Based on the student's expression alone, he knew he wasn't listening.

Previous records of burns. Overuse. Overheating in summer. Some brief notes about malnutrition and possible neglect from a few years back-

"......"

Was he listening? Tired? Or did he fuck himself up and needed longer to think? Oh lord.. ".... Ss.." ow

".... Sato-sensei... I-- gh... You don't get it at all." sniffle. Ow existing is painful. "... I-i have to."

"You don't." His voice stayed unyielding, but kinder. "You don't have to, Watanabe."

Sato set the papers beside away, handing it to Recovery Girl who watched with a worried expression. "It's...a high school event," he approached, sitting at the foot of the bed where his student rested. "Watanabe. It's a sports festival. You are a sixteen years old teenage student who shouldn't be focusing on studies and making friends."

"...."

Sniff

".... You d.. you don't get it-" It felt like no one did "You just-- S-sometimes you just gotta deal with a little pain- UGH-" Yoshie look what you did you fucked up the kid- He squeezed his eyes(?) Closed. "T-... To get where you need to.."

"A little." He repeated, "A little pain." Sato felt a nerve pop at how Tai's words, but let it slide. Take a deep breath, you're past your prime, Osamu. It's his story, not yours. Don't make it about you. The kid needs this. He needs you right now.

The teacher pointed to his pitch-black hands, his injuries, his bandages, his current state of being. There was even a constant, soft whirring of a fan as his student recovered in bed. "You're going to get yourself killed before you can get where you need to, Taishiro. I can't let you do this."

His hands twitched. There was an attempt to ball his fists, but the pain didn't do any favours.. If he kept this up then he'd lose the functions in his hands entirely, if not the hands themselves.

"W-" An attempt to sit up. Very short lived though. "Y-you're not kicking me out of the tournament are you?!" Owie his throat. "You can't do that!"

"Stay still, Watanabe-kun!" Recovery Girl raised her voice from her seat, upset. "You shouldn't move around so much in your condition. You're going to stay here until you've stabilized." She crossed her arms. "Anything happens to you, and it's going to be on me!"

"You heard the boss," Sato turned back to his student, putting a sympathetic hand on Tai's blanketed knee. "Please, you need all the rest you can get. You need this more than anything else right now."

B- but that's not fair!!!" He shook a little. Pain? Anger? Who knows. "I was so close-- You can't do this to me, Sensei!!!" Oop tears ahoy

"Close to dying, if that was your goal." The teacher's expression was solemn, serious. This conversation was getting nowhere, and his student continued to be stubborn and in denial. He wished he could stay here for him, but he's got his job as a homeroom teacher cut out for him. He has other students to tend to, but this one...he might not be enough for Tai.

"I don't want you risking your life out there, against your own classmates. It's. A sports festival. You're supposed to be having fun out there." Sato pointed to the window, where the stadium could be seen from the clinic, "You enrolled here to become a hero, didn't you? What's the point if you don't make it to fighting villains? You won't be anywhere close if everything ends here."

"If I can't handle a sports festival how am i going to handle villains?!??" Angy.. "I-its not my fault I was matched with someone powerful!!"

"No hero gets to choose who they'll fight on the battle field. That's exactly what you're here in UA, Watanabe." Sato raked his fingers through his own locks, giving his student a meaningful glance. "To learn."

The usually tired teacher's eyes began to blaze with passion. "You're going to exactly learn how to, without endangering yourself. I've been teaching you how to, haven't I?" He didn't enroll into education for nothing, after all. "Or perhaps my classes really are that boring, hm?" Sato passed a joking glare towards Taishiro, recalling his grades and current standing.

".. I was winning" Huff "You should be happy about that... One of your students was doing good.. And now you're blocking him from winning"

He's not listening. Teenagers really are a different breed, huh?

The bed shifted from Sato's weight as he slowly moved towards the other student before gently, softly, enveloping Taishiro in the warmest hug he could give without adding pain to his injuries.

"You've done amazingly, well beyond my expectations...and now you need to rest. I'm so sorry I have to stop you here, when you're so close. I really am." Sato brings a hand behind Taishiro's head, carefully caressing his brightly coloured hair. He strokes the back of his head gently, speaking in a voice just as tender.

"I'm more than happy, Watanabe. Thank you for being a proud, strong student of Class 1-X."

He flinches a little from the pressure. Ow- Injury--

Whens the last time someone pet his hair like this? Not since he was tiny, probably. It was nice. Reminded him of snoozing on his dads lap on the way home from the park.

...

Sniff.

Sniff sniff-

The tears were already there, of course, but this just made it worse, thick black tears pouring from his eyes(?) Mann.. Even after all of that. After almost melting himself alive. After being so stubborn..

He was still just a teenager.

Hic-

He trembled, hiccuping as his lip trembled... And finally fully giving into his tears. Wailing onto his teacher. Sorry Sato your shirt is gonna get stained

It's not the first time Sato's shirt got stained with black tears. If anything, he's just happy to be there for his students in their time of need. He continues speaking what's on his mind, all the while hugging and comforting him via headpats.

"You kids are going to be the future. You guys are going to protect us when the time is right," voice low and soothing, he kept going. "So as your teacher, I can't have you risking your life as early as now. It would be my fault if something bad happened to you, it meant I didn't teach right."

He leaned back, breaking the hug. Even with the mask, Sato's smile was evident as his eyes crinkled with encouragement and pride towards Taishiro. "So with that, please continue being a good student, 'kay? Study well and become a great hero."

Hic hic hic--

Oh he's a mess. Aw man the bandages are gonna get stained too. :C

He kept shaking. Pained. Both emotionally and physically. God he was so tired-- "I-i'm trying!!"

"Trying a bit too hard, I'd say." Sato laughed softly, if not a bit cocky.

"You'll need some extra remedial classes if you want to be a good hero. And maybe some extra focus." Before he could say anything else, there was a knock at the door. Ah, right on time. Recovery Girl glanced as Sato put away his phone into his pocket, did he contact someone?

"Come right in, sir. The door's open."

Sniff...

He lifted his head. Another doctor maybe? Who would- ...

"Taishiro-!"

Oh lord-

Yoshie wastes no time. He's still in his pizza place uniform. Pizza smell. Pizza man.. He dashes over to grab and hold his son, of course causing the kid a little more pain but- Hey he could deal. Proabbly-

"D- Dad?!"

"Tai- Taishiro i saw everything--" He grabbed his son by the shoulders, face full of concern.

"How could you do that to yourself?! Do you know how dangerous that was?!?!"

"Dad...-"

"No! You can't-- Son. You can't keep doing this!!"

"I was winni-" "YOU WERE KILLING YOURSELF, TAI."

...

Oh

Tai is pulled in for a tight hug again, his father tearing up as he holds his son protectively, tai looking stunned for a moment.

"You can't do that-- Why would--" A sniff. From Yoshie this time. "..You're my only son, Tai! You can't do that to yourself!"

The father turned his head a little, looking at the teacher. ".. I-is it possible for me to take him home? Watch over his recovery?"

Sato hummed, crossing his arms over his chest. "Well...it's a miracle the match ended before things for irreversible. It's another miracle that we've got such an amazing nurse on our side, too." He glances over to Recovery Girl for an opinion. "What do you say, Ma'am?"

"He's still a bit unstable, so we need to watch over him a bit more. He did too much work this festival, so..." The school nurse herself huffs, always with the tendency to scold those she heals up. "Learn to control yourself, young man! You're still a teenager, don't risk yourself at this age!" She raises her cane, gesturing to all the other students in the ward. "And that goes for all of you, too! Got that?!" A collective groan from the injured students follows, sounding like a "yes, ma'am."

The teacher decided to continue for her, "He should be okay to bring home by tomorrow." He placed a hand on Yoshie's shoulder, kind but firm. "Don't worry Watanabe-san, your son is in good hands."

"...."

A small nod, before he turns back to his son, cupping the students face.

"Tai.. I know it's not been easy. I know-.. I know i've not been the best father to you-" Two idiots be crying "... But this-..You can't do this. Not for my sake.." Looks like he saw the rin match. oop. "You have to do things for yourself. Make friends! ignore your work-- Hell, get another piercing- Just.. Don't give up your youth for me, Tai."

"D..."

All of this was for him.. All of this was.. All... "

... D-daaad-!!"And back to wailing he goes, his father chuckling a little through his own tears, holding him close. and letting his son cry it out. There was a lot of healing to be done, but at least this time he'd fight like hell to be around to help with it.

Sato watched as the two cried in each others arms, relieved that things turned out pretty well in the end. He excused himself from the clinic, waved goodbye to the nurse, father, and patient.

Now, then...

As soon as he closed the infirmary door behind him, Hikari, the redheaded girl from the other class was clutching her cellphone anxiously as she stuttered to find her voice. He wasn't well acquainted with her, but knew she did rather well in his class knowing that she received some sort of prior training from her pro hero relatives with that unfortunate quirk of hers. And she's the last of Class 1-Y standing...if anything, he's a bit worried considering Lucca's most anxious student is going to fight his scariest, angriest student.

"It's okay. He's doing well." He craned his neck as he looked up at the towering high schooler, "It's not your fault."

Taishiro didn't know Hikari's immunity to heat and fire. Trying to pull off a stunt like burning himself up in the inside to try and fry her only backfired completely. She couldn't do anything either, doing her damnedest to keep herself in the stage even if he kept rewounding time. Lucca must have noticed her student's distress in trying to get close to Taishiro to stop him. I really have to treat her to drinks sometime, it's tough being a teacher.

"S.....S-Sensei...."

A broken whimper stopped his trail of thought.

"Ah, sorry. You want me to escort you back to the stadium? Don't worry, I know Fuwa is scary and all, but--"

"........it's not th-that...."

Sato raised a brow and observed her movements. She's always trembling, but...she's shaking pretty badly. The student looks like she just finished crying, puffy eyes, nose and all. She clutched her phone close to her body before opening her mouth again. Hikari recalled the conversation she had on the phone and mustered up all the courage she had.

"I...I need to go home."

[franeridart]

Anon said: i love love love LOVE how you just draw gojo leaning onto getou, hiding his face in getou's neck or back or chest <////3 im just so heartbroken over those two

So glad to hear you like him clingy as much as I do!! TT^TT as far as I’m concerned he wasn’t clingy enough in canon, so I’m fixing it as much as I can with every new doodle haha

Anon said: whenever im sad i just come to your account and look through your art :")) it brings me so much comfort :')) also i gotta mention that the teacher getou art you've made has healed my broken heart bc of jjk and now that is the only canon i accept thank you very much gege akutami has nothing on me

GAH GETO-SENSEI MY ONE AND ONLY I’m happy he makes you as soft as he does me, he’s such a comfort to me ;;;; and thank you for liking my stuff!!!! Means the world to me to hear it ;A; <3

Anon said: I miss your krbk sm 😔 No pressure intended!!!!!! I still love and support u and ur art!!!

Man I miss them too!!!!! @ hori when are you bringing my loves back from the war I’m here waiting good sir!!!

Anon said: v v curious on your thoughts on what’s currently going on in bnha manga :)))

HMMM what are my thoughts on it? Well, let’s split it in two: Deku’s side and Todoroki’s side, because that’s how it’s split in my brain atm, and allow me to start from the second because it’s easier to get through for me

I’m in love with everything Hori is doing with Todoroki and everyone involved with him - that’s to say his whole whole family and Hawks and Jeanist too, all of it, I’m so into it it’s no joke at all. Always been in love with how he handles Enji’s character and his interactions with his family and the latest developments didn’t disappoint me at all, wasn’t very much into Dabi right after the ��reveal” but the more I think about it and about the story from his pov the more behind it I am, forever and always head over heels for Shouto’s way of dealing with a situation that’s as complex as one would expect from a protagonist of their very own story you could really make a manga out of the Todoroki’s family plot from Shouto’s pov alone, it’s incredible I can’t state how in love with it all I am enough. And Hawks, don’t make me start on him I’ll straight up never stop, absolutely and most definitely my favorite pro-hero I would trust him with my money and my kids 100/10 just assume I’m constantly crying over him. Also Jeanist is just hilarious so bless him and his presence in an otherwise too heavy story

Deku’s side........ well, the main problems I have with it are that one, I don’t really understant the need to keep ofa a secret from the class for the biggest part of the story when the reveal wasn’t forced upon Deku, didn’t have a huge impact on him or his relationship with the others (his leaving wasn’t directly caused by him coming clean after all, he wouldn’t have had to leave earlier had he not kept it a secret and he would have still left at this point had the class already known all along) and didn’t, like. Matter. All that much. Two, this manga is called my hero academia and I’m genuinely starting to wonder why. What was the point of all the arcs set inside the school anyway? Most of the characters growth (Deku’s especially) and the progression of the main plot happened in the arcs outside of the school anyway, and at this point it’s clear we’re not going back to the school after this or even seeing anyone graduate. What of Shinsou? What was the point of his plot when we’re not even gonna see him being active part of the class in a school environment? I’m just confused about it all, I guess. Three, which is really my biggest problem with it all, is the way Deku’s set on saving Shigaraki. It’s not like I don’t like a story in which all the villains are saved and the good guys win and love prevails and all that, call it corny but they’re exactly my type of stories, but I’m not sure I can get behind it when Twice died like that, and Midnight did as well, and Aizawa lost a leg, and Nighteye died, and Hawks might have lost his wings, and Shirakumo ended up Kurogiri and it’s still unclear whether he can be saved, like... why does Shigaraki get to be saved when so many people suffered like that? And it’s not only about them suffering by his hands, it’s about Hori and how he was ruthless with so many characters but lets the story show arbitrary kindness to Shigaraki alone, it’s all... well. Unfair. The way I see it. At this point I at the very least expect kindness for Touya as well, here.

That said if I pick the chapters one by one by themselves I do enjoy them very much. I just don’t gotta think about the big picture lmao AH but it’s all a personal opinion, of course! I know people who enjoy the way the story is going and I can see where they’re coming from, this is all arbitrary tastes and preferences on my part, I’m aware of it!

Anon said: Hi hi! I finally got into jjk AND finally caught up on the manga and i appreciate your doods soooo much more now!! They’re so great!! But imcurious, is there one specific moment in the story where you Gojo and Geto became IT for you? Just genuinely curious!!

THANK YOU happy to hear you liked jjk!!!! And that’s!!! a great question, I’m not sure I have an answer actually? I binged the manga in a day and a half, you see, and when I binge stuff that fast I rarely stop to overthink things - I did ship them as I read too since, well. They’re in love lmao but I shipped them in the same way I shipped itafushi or yuutoge after I read the prequel, you know? Just a general aknowledging of how good they were together. The main point with satosugu specifically was probably that satoru has been my favorite character since the beginning of the story and suguru got there as well as soon as I read their backstory, so once I was caught up they’re the ones I ended up spending the most time thinking about, both by themselves and together, and that ended up making me a bit obsessed..... just a bit lol

If I had to give one specific moment that got me by the heart and squeezed the hardest it’d be... probably Satoru’s “my soul knows otherwise”. And the way his voice alone could bring Suguru back, even for just a single moment. The thing about satosugu for me!!! one of the many things about them, but the main thing for me, is that they love each other. Be it platonic or however you wanna see it, they love each other. Despite everything and after it all, even if Satoru had to kill Suguru, even if Suguru killed so many and betrayed Satoru and they went their separate ways in the harshest of ways, they love each other. It’s insane, isn’t it? That they’d love each other so much they could pass over everything and anything. I’ve seen the “best friends become enemies” trope so often in shounen manga, but this is the first time I see it treated like this - with love so strong that they never blamed each other or turned that love in hate. The way satosugu do it is all-encompassing! It goes beyond the world and their differences and death itself! So if I had to pick it’d be that one, because that scene happens after it’s all over, and it all went to shit and way beyond too already, and still their souls resonate with each other and answer to each other and that sends me insane, just thinking about it. Like, god, they really still love each other. Satoru’s mourned for Suguru for a year, Suguru’s been dead for a year, they’d been separated ten whole years before then, and still! And still!!! It’s so tender I don’t know how to deal with it

Anon said: “What’s a god to a nonbeliever?”—That tag is going to haunt me for a while. The entire tag section for your latest Gojo and Geto drawing is meta-worthy.

THANK YOU it’d been eating at my brain I had to write it down somewhere why are those two like that

Anon said: Do you take commissions? No pressure! ✨❤️

Not right now!

Anon said: How do you feel about sukuna ? like/dislike or thoughts on him

AMAZING QUESTION I love him. I have absolutely zero clue as of why so don’t ask me to elaborate, I’m literally that marge pic with the potato when it’s about Sukuna, I have no meta thoughts about him nor deep reasonings behind it - by all accounts, I should dislike him! But he shows up and I’m like nghhh king, so that’s where we stand. It’s Sukuna, you know. I just think he’s neat.

Anon said: sighs time to get into another fandom bc i simp too hard for ur art 😔

HAH thank you for the trust I hope you’ll like ror if you do get into it!!! hahaha