#also this file is called mouth to mouth combat which i still think is funny

[petricorah]

I LOVE how you draw Zuko and Sokka, they're so PRETTYYYYYY

ahhh thank you so much!!!!

pls take this scrapped wip as thank you <3

[yellowocaballero]

Hey wouldn’t it be funny if I wrote a crossover between canon and the roleswap AU.

So I did <3. There’s no reason for this to exist, I was just bored and self-indulgent and amused myself by thinking about how fucking insane the Space Cadet team has to be in comparison to canon. This takes place at S4 Canon!Jon’s time, and basically between chapters 2 and 3 of solitaire. It is not canon. Do not think too hard about it. Enjoy. Story under the cut. 

“Yes, in almost every way.” Jon wiped his mouth with a napkin, balling it up and dropping it on the table. “Jonathan Sims, thirty one years old, Aquarius. Head Archivist of the Magnus Institute. The Archivist.” He paused a beat, uncertain of how to broach this. “I think Helen may have deposited me in an alternate dimension? Best case scenario.”

Everybody stared at him blankly. 

“Well,” Basira said finally, “sounds like the kind of bullshit you get yourself wrapped up in, Jon.”

“I knew it!” Sasha cried, before deflating. “I mean, I didn’t, really, not at all, but that’s fascinating! Will you answer some questions? Who’s the Queen in your universe?”

“I’m back from the dead for a week and my life’s already stupid again,” Tim said blankly. 

“Two Jons?” Martin asked, far too excitedly. 

“Can I leave you alone,” Melanie gritted out, between clenched teeth, “for five minutes?”

Jon woke up at his desk, which was so common that it was somewhat pathetic. 

Not that a lot of things weren’t pathetic about Jon, but seeing as he no longer technically had anywhere to live he’d give himself a pass. Or was it pathetic to be homeless too? Jon felt strongly as if it was, but he was working on the judgemental thing. Martin had always -

Martin. Jon blinked blearily at his empty desk, scrubbing a little at the sleep that had accumulated in the corner of his eyes. Right. Speaking of pathetic. Jon didn’t like admitting that Martin was the first thing he thought about when he woke up and the last thing he thought about before he went to bed, but he was working on being more honest with himself. Denial about the situation didn’t do anyone any favors. Denial was what made him start stalking and hunting people like - like some sort of awful predator. No more denial. Jon knew who he was, and he knew what he was, and he was going to try and be as good a person as he can be despite it. It was the least he could do. 

Wait. Why was his desk empty?

It wasn’t completely empty. There was a laptop on the center of it, and some assorted papers stuck haphazardly underneath. The usual recorder was tucked into the corner, clicked off. He swiped his hand over the trackpad of his laptop, quickly logging in, and instead of seeing his usual research or theory maps, he saw...a video game?

Jon squinted at the video game. What was The Sims?

He looked around his office, well-lit with the harsh fluorescent lights. It was his office, complete with the couch on the far wall that Daisy had taken to napping on and the two walls of metal shelving that held filling boxes and collections of tapes. Several filing cabinets were lined up behind Jon, holding his favorite statements. Organized by Entity. He was quite proud of it. 

But the Statements seemed to be gone. Some loose papers were always scattered around, slipping out of boxes or sitting in haphazard piles weighed down by tape recorders. None of them were there. Basira must have taken them. Jon stood up, moving around the desk to pull out a box and peer inside. Empty. 

Some part of Jon’s brain, growing louder every day, wailed and gnashed its teeth that someone had stolen his Statements, his knowledge. Most of Jon was just worried over what Basira could possibly be doing with them. 

Unconsciously, Jon’s hand drifted down to his stomach. It was purely a habit, of course - the hunger never gave him stomach pains. He was so hungry all the time, he could barely feel it anymore. 

The Statements were all gone.

Was Basira trying to starve him out…?

Jon shook himself. She wouldn’t - well, she wouldn’t go behind his back to do it. She knew that he’d just start preying on people -

His life had gotten so pathetic. 

A loud crash and a yell echoed from the other side of the door, and Jon recognized Melanie’s voice. He winced, and decided to stay in his office for the time being. Best to stay out of her way. She always reacted somewhat explosively to him -

Then the faint, muffled tones of Martin’s voice echoed through the door, and Jon forgot all hesitation as he burst out of his office. 

The bullpen was just slightly different from where Jon had seen it last - the desks arranged differently, different detritus scattered around, no sleeping bags or hair dryers - but he wasn’t paying attention to any of that. He was only paying attention to Martin, who was sitting at his desk as easy as you please. He was smiling. 

Jon hadn’t seen Martin smile in so long.

He also hadn’t seen Martin wear those adorable little sweatervests in so long, but that wasn’t important right now. Jon cried out softly, like he had been punched - he did feel as if he had been punched, it wasn’t an unfamiliar sensation - and Martin turned slightly in his chair to look at him. He smiled when he saw Jon, so kind and happy and Martin, and Jon felt like he was dying at the sight of Martin just smiling, just looking at him. 

“Look, you don’t need to worry about me,” Martin was saying, to an unamused and remarkably composed Melanie. He held up a large combat knife, the metal glinting off the fluorescent lights. “Jon likes it.”

“See, it’s not you I’m worried about,” Melanie said, arms crossed. She was dressed - in her jeans and green flannel, like she used to. Her hair looked clean. The crop top, cut-off shorts, and fishnets, that Jon hadn’t seen her take off in the last month, where - “It’s poor Jon. He’s too desperate for affection to stand up for himself.”

“Jon, you okay?” Tim asked, sitting behind Martin and sipping a margarita. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

That was when Jon - hungry, tired, hallucinating - felt his legs give out. It was just in time, too. He collapsed to the ground just as Martin threw the knife, sending it whistling where his head had been half a second ago. 

Then he hit his head on the floor, and blissfully fainted. 

****

“ - she’s not his mother, it’s not Georgie’s job to make sure he eats.”

“It’s because Daisy isn’t here.” That was Basira’s voice, almost mournful. “Daisy always used to remind him to eat.”

“How did this guy make it to thirty again?” An unfamiliar voice asked. 

“If it wasn’t for this ragtag bunch of lesbians, I would have killed him months ago,” Tim said, then paused a beat. “What? I’m owning up to my mistakes.”

“Remind me to give you a sticker later,” Melanie said dryly. 

Jon opened his eyes, to see five faces crowded in front of him. They were all bending over him, identical expressions of mild intrigue on their faces as they bickered with each other. Martin looked very, very mildly concerned, as Melanie and Basira just looked exasperated. Tim - and the woman - who was the woman?

Instinctually, Jon reached out with his mind and sought the answer. But it was as if he was reaching with a limb that had been cut off. No, a limb that had never existed. Dazed, Jon lifted his real hand, if only to make sure that he could still move - and found himself staring at an unmarred, smooth, healthy hand. 

“Martin didn’t cut it off,” the woman said helpfully. She had a thick mane of curly brown hair, and brown skin a similar shade to his. She was holding a granola bar, and she easily stuffed it in his outstretched hand. “If that was a concern or anything. When’s the last time you ate, Jon?”

The question spent a spike of anxiety through him, Jon instantly interpreting it as an accusation. The granola bar wasn’t going to do anything. Of course he was hungry, he’s always hungry - 

Jon wasn’t hungry. 

Jon sat up, letting the assorted people, both alive and dead, step away. He mechanically unwrapped the granola bar and stuffed it in his mouth, chewing lethargically. It didn’t taste like sawdust and cement. It tasted like salt, and nuts. 

He swallowed the granola bar, forming a hypothesis. He looked at Basira, who at least was the most familiar here. It galled him even having to ask, not just knowing, but -  “What year is it?”

She stared at him, unimpressed. “If you hit your head we’re taking you to C&E. We can’t afford for you to get any stupider, Jon.”

“Your concern is noted,” Jon said, strained. 

“Don’t make fun of him, he’s a concussion victim,” Melanie scolded. She smiled at Jon - hideously novel. “It’s 2018. I’m calling Georgie and getting you home, you’re useless to us with a brain injury.”

He no longer had a hypothesis. Jon shook his head mutely. The last person Jon wanted to field questions from was Georgie. “I’m fine,” Jon said hoarsely. “I think I just need to - lie down a bit.” And not look at Tim. He was wearing a Hawaiian shirt, and was still slurping his margarita obnoxiously. He was leaning against a desk, somewhat heavily. “I’ll be fine.”

Everybody looked at each other, then shrugged. Melanie reached down and helped him up, gently pushing him towards the couch set up in the corner of the bullpen, and he found himself stumbling towards it and lying down. Martin loudly offered to nurse him back to health, which incentivized Basira and Melanie to quickly push him inside the recording room and lock the door for...some reason. Jon wanted to go talk to Martin, figure everything out with him. But he didn’t - paralyzed, or maybe just frightened, or maybe just very tired. 

The knife he had thrown was still lying on the floor, somehow innocently. The woman picked it up, inspecting it closely, and sighed. 

“There is something off about that guy.”

“None of them are ever going to believe you, Sash,” Tim said dully, flipping through a brightly colored magazine on his desk. Jon’s breath caught in his throat. “Melanie thinks it’s freakier if you haven’t stabbed anyone.”

This was it. This was when Tim would say, ‘Everybody wants to stab Jon’, or something. It’d be fair. If this was a dream, a fantasy of dead friends, then that’s what he would say. But he didn’t. Tim - strangely small, strangely gaunt, with hollow cheeks that reminded Jon a little of Daisy - didn’t look up at Sasha, flipping through his magazine, and Sasha avoided eye contact with him. She looked at Jon instead, from where he was lying on the couch, and gave him a strained smile. 

Jon found the courage to speak to her. It should have felt familiar, like Sasha, but nothing about her was familiar. He had listened to her tapes a dozen times, any scrap of her voice he could find, but - well, everybody sounded different on the tapes. “Sasha. Can you get me my phone? And a...Statement?”

Sasha brightened enthusiastically. “You want a Statement? Say no more, Jon, I’ll hook you up. Nice to see somebody taking an interest. Let’s keep this between you and me, okay?”

“What…?”

But she had already disappeared into his office, and the faint sounds of banging echoed throughout the room. Melanie and Basira were standing in the kitchenette, chatting lowly, Basira occasionally laughing at something Melanie said. 

Jon wondered where Daisy was, and instinctively tried to reach again before hitting that wall. He gritted his teeth, head still swimming. 

The most important thing was figuring out if this place was dangerous or not. Wherever he was, whatever was going on, he had to discern if it was a danger. Could this have anything to do with an unknown ritual? No, how could it? Elias? He wouldn’t put any of this past Elias. 

With a twist in his gut Jon remembered the cannibal priest’s Statement. Any suspicion of unreality, any feeling as if things were not as they should be...or was this a pleasant, Lotus Eater’s dream instead? If that was true, would Martin be throwing knives at him?

“Here you go! First one I saw on your desk.”

Jon sat up, mutely taking the paper and phone Sasha held out to him. It wasn’t his mobile - it was much nicer and sleeker than his own battered thing - but he had to assume it was Jon’s. He took the Statement too, scanning it quickly. 

Of course, of course. It was Anya Villete’s. Jon thought about this one frequently, captured by the prospect of multiple realities. Not worth the danger of exploring, but there was an intoxicating element of danger. Maybe the Jon that these people thought they were talking to had been reading it, and accidentally triggered something - 

“What did I say!”

Before Jon could react, the paper was unceremoniously ripped from his hands. Jon cried out helplessly, only to see Melanie standing in front of him with an unamused expression and his lifeline in her uncaring fists. 

“We’ve been over this,” Melanie scolded - scolded? “No statements, they’re bad for your tummy.” She frowned at Sasha, who didn’t seem very guilty. “And I told you to stop enabling him. He’s already sick, and you know these things upset him.”

“I’m gathering data,” Sasha said cheerfully. “Something weird was happening in his eyes when he was reading that Statement. Give it back, I need to record it.”

“Can I have that back, please?” Jon asked planatively. “I need it.”

“You do not.” Melanie folded up the statement tightly, shoving it in her jeans and ignoring Jon’s cry of despair. “If you’re feeling under-stimulated, go play knife monopoly with Martin. Otherwise relax and make sure you aren’t going to faint again.”

“I’m not going to -”

“I will call Georgie,” Melanie threatened, and Jon clicked his mouth shut. Melanie nodded, satisfied in having won the argument. If it was even an argument. “Sasha, if you let Jon find another Statement I will be locking the library and giving the key to Martin.”

“Yes, boss,” Sasha said, depressed. 

“Tim, you’re with me, we need to design our plan of attack for chasing down Daisy,” Melanie barked, and Tim straightened in his seat. Jon saw for the first time that there was a folded up cane on his desk. “I need your dumb fear demon powers.”

“That’s not how they -” Tim started, but at Melanie’s look he quailed. “Yeah, boss.”

“Great.” Melanie folded her arms, frowning down at Jon, and at the receiving end of the look Jon found himself quailing too. “If you leave the Archives to do anything other than go to the bathroom the rest of the day, I will tell Georgie that you were exerting yourself while sick again. And she will call you a poor little dear and give you lots of hugs and lots of soup. You will hate it. Is that clear?”

“Yes, boss,” Jon said, depressed. 

“Good. I need to go psychologically torment more people, I’ll be in the library. Tim!” She snapped her fingers, and strode off to the library as Tim scrambled up and limped after her. 

Jon watched her go dazedly as the library door clicked shut behind her. Sasha sighed and went back to her desk, cracking open the thick books on the top and relaxing. They weren’t even research books, just nonfiction about the Mayflower. Basira was back at her desk too, this time with her chin resting on her arms folded on the desk as she watched a...movie. Was that a romcom? 

This was dangerous. The situation was dangerous, doubtless the plot of some force or another that hated Jon personally and wanted him to suffer. He had to do some research, find out what was going on, track down Elias and find his power and dig into that source of infinite knowledge lying dormant in his mind, uproot every terrifying thing that hated him and shake them down for answers.

But he was more scared of Melanie. Just because she didn’t seem to have any knives on her didn’t mean that it was the case. Unless Martin had them all. So Jon lay back on the couch, rotely pressed in the passcode to his phone, and idly opened up the internet browser in complete comfort and relaxation. 

The couch was so comfortable and soft, in fact, that Jon soon fell asleep. Easy and smooth, as if he really was still a human, who needed sleep at all.

And when Jon dreamed, he dreamed of blissful and restful nothing. 

******

He woke up to someone shaking his shoulder, and Jon screamed himself awake as his eyes flew open. 

But it wasn’t anybody dangerous, or anything willing to hurt him. It was just - Basira. Just Basira. Jon exhaled in relief, ignoring Basira’s incredulous expression. 

“It’s five, we’re heading out. You feeling well enough for pub night, mate?”

They were going home. The strangeness registered first, the fact that Sasha was shrugging on a jacket and Melanie was stuffing a laptop in a backpack, before Jon remembered where he was. Or where he wasn’t. He mustered a faint smile for Basira, but judging from her frown it came out closer to a grimace. 

Pub night. They were going out for drinks, then going to their own flats. Eating dinner. Sleeping. Waking up the next morning, then heading off to work. The mundanity boggled. 

Maybe it was a Lotus Eater, Jon thought, dazed. A world where there were no Entities, no fears or harm. Where everybody was human, and happy. 

Maybe. He hadn’t actually been allowed to look at any of the Statements, so he didn’t actually know. He couldn’t imagine that this group would be so casual if the Statements really were true. 

Part of him wanted to beg off, curl up and sleep in document storage so he wouldn’t have to interact with these people for any longer. He was out of practice: these days he rarely had long conversations with anybody who wasn’t Daisy, and he hadn’t seen Daisy all day. Basira exchanged a few curt sentences with him each day. Melanie...cried and screamed, a lot. Not exactly conducive to social skills. 

  Sasha’s face was buried in a book, not even looking up as she navigated the desks. Tim was talking a patient Melanie’s ear off about Nietzche. 

“I think I can make it,” Jon found himself saying. “Just a pint.”

Besides, he had the feeling that if he curled up in document storage Georgie would...be mad at him. Or something. They were flatmates? Or something?

They walked out the door in a herd, talking and laughing. Jon found himself hanging in the back of the group, next to Sasha. She wasn’t looking up from her book, so Jon felt safe in staring unabashedly at Tim. He was using a cane, just like Daisy had for two or so weeks right out of the coffin. He even used it in the same way: not favoring one leg or the other, using it for strength instead of balance. Muscle weakness. He was just as emancipated as Daisy had been too, in that particular corpse-like way that made him look like a zombie. His hair was long and lanky, brittle strands reaching to his chin instead of his normal lush and gelled look. 

The faces in the lobby were the same - Sabrina behind the desk, Roy playing security guard - even as the decorations were different. No portrait of Jonah Magnus, or of the other directors. They broke out into the London street, as smoggy and crowded as ever, and Jon found himself trailing behind the others in a direct route to their usual pub. The same one he, Basira, Melanie, and Daisy go drinking at sometimes. Only sometimes. They went without him more often, but Jon didn’t blame them, really -

“Something on my face, mate?”

Tim’s wry voice startled Jon out of his reverie, and he flushed. Tim smiled at him, thinly and without humor, and gestured him forward as he dropped behind Melanie. Jon stepped forward, tucking his hands into his jacket, fighting the rising swell in his throat. 

“You’ve been staring. I’m not that much uglier, am I?” Tim asked lightly, a parody of his old good humor. That, at least, was familiar - Tim’s fragile and brittle humor, tightly leashing rage. 

“You...you look good,” Jon said. He buried his hands deeper in his jacket pockets, fighting the lump in his throat. He couldn’t stop himself from adding, “It’s good to see you again.”

It was probably a strange thing for Jon to say - but Tim just smiled, even more bitter than the last. “You’ve always been too nice for your own good, Sims.” First time that’s been said about him. “You forgive too easy.”

“Grudges...aren’t worth it, in my experience.” Jon exhaled slowly, watching Melanie’s red hair glint in the sunlight in front of him. “Life’s too short and all.”

“Really? Thought you people loved grudges.” Tim blinked a second, before clearly remembering something. “We love grudges, right. Still, Jon, I never really…” He trailed off awkwardly. “You know.”

He did not. “Right,” Jon said. 

“Apologized,” Tim said hurriedly, when it became clear that Jon wasn’t about to say anything committal. “For trying to kill you all those times. Uh, and trying to get you arrested. And helping frame you for murder. And that whole kidnapping incident -”

Something began to occur to Jon. A rational thought seeped into his brain. 

“In the woods,” Jon said slowly. “Because you thought I was a monster.”

Tim winced, confirming Jon’s suspicion. “Right. Trust me, I’ve had a lot of time to think, and I know I was wrong. I’ve turned over a new leaf and everything.” He brightened. “Did you hear I’m bisexual now?”

“Everybody heard you were bisexual now,” Basira said, bored. “Ten times.”

“Good for you,” Jon said, as sincerely as he could. “That’s...great. Bi rights.”

Tim beamed. “Bi rights!” He clapped Jon’s shoulder supportively with his other hand as Melanie held open the door to the pub for them, ducking inside. “Man, I never thought I’d see the inside of a pub again. I only got to go a few times with you guys before everything. Can Martin still hustle the room at pool?”

“One way to find out,” Martin said serenely. 

“Please don’t start a pub brawl,” Melanie said, pained. “We’ve been kicked out of three places already, I don’t fancy making it a fourth.”

But when Jon looked backwards, he saw Sasha looking up from her book, staring directly at him, blinking owlishly. 

They crowded into a corner booth, squishing up against each other and all talking at once. Jon wanted to drift towards Martin, get him alone and ask what was going on, but after one look at him eyeing up the pool cues speculatively he changed his mind. Only Basira was acting even remotely normal, so he settled for sliding in between her and Sasha. He was dizzy with the noise and the clamor of the familiar pub, overwhelmed by the familiar-unfamiliar tide of voices, and it was taking all of his energy not to spend hours just staring at Sasha, memorizing every line and crease of her face.

The first thing he did was order every single crummy, greasy, soggy serving of pub food he found on the menu, ignoring the way his Assistants laughed at him, before settling in the corner of the booth and pulling out his phone. Jon wasn’t even hungry - he wasn’t hungry - but he was shoving every soggy chip into his mouth until he puked. A human body was a drastically underrated thing. 

Out of curiosity, Jon turned on the front camera of his phone and scrutinized his reflection. He had noticed that his hair was shorter, tied back in a puffed bun instead of his customary ragged ponytail, but beyond that he hadn’t checked. 

He looked...good. No longer gaunt and malnourished, he was a healthy weight. No bags under his eyes. Well kept fade and modest, well trimmed facial hair. No scar over his throat, no circular worm scars.  That was less of a surprise - Tim, Martin, and Sasha were all missing the worm scars. 

His eyes were brown. Just brown. No electrifying green, no spinning iris, no churning wheel of knowledge. Just his normal, boring brown. 

He hadn’t known how much he missed it. 

As the others started arguing passionately about...vlogs? Or something?...Jon pulled out his wallet. Money had the same old Queen on it, along with his old collection of take-out receipts that had all started disappearing when he stopped eating. A photocopy of a picture of his parents, heavily worn and creased. Still an orphan, then. Jon missed the days when that was his biggest problem. 

His driver’s license was the same as ever too. Same name - Jonathan Andrew Sims. Same birthday - February 14th, which he had always considered life’s practical joke on him. The United Kingdom still existed, which was either a good or a bad thing. 

He replaced his wallet, ignoring Sasha’s curious stare, and pulled out his phone. He had only gone so far as making sure that major world events were the same before passing out. This time, he pressed his text messages, and scrolled down his most recents. As usual, it was only a few people - almost all of which were at this table - but there were a few other people too. 

Georgie was the obvious one, and the most recent. He clicked on that conversation, unsurprised to see an immediate photograph of the Admiral looking angelic as he rolled around in some grass in a patch of sun. 

Georgie: Baby at the park soaking in some rays!!! <3 <3 <3. I caught him terrorizing a stray dog. Naughty baby!!

Jon blinked at the message. The Admiral did seem a little...more evil, than he once did. Why were his eyes green? Underneath was Jon’s own text, sent twenty minutes before he had woken up that afternoon. 

Jon: He’s committing atrocities and you’re laughing. You’re laughing. 

Jon couldn’t fight a smile. He missed Georgie. 

He switched over to the text conversation just underneath. He squinted at the contact name. That couldn’t be right. 

Gerry: can u pick up milk from aldis? and scented candles

Gerry: for necromancy reasons

Jon: Can you raise the dead tomorrow? Helen said she wants to talk to me so I may be home late. If you don’t hear from me in five hours she’s likely kidnapped me. As a heads up. 

Gerry: OH, SO LONG AS I HAVE THE HEADS UP?

Gerry: I’m making Georgie give Melanie the money to buy that toddler leash she’s always threatening to get for u. If u die im not resurrecting u. 

Jon: Have fun with one less person to share the rent

Gerry: we dont PAY RENT

Gerard Keay. Jon blinked at the phone. That conversation raised as many questions as it answered. Gerard Keay was alive? He was Jon’s flatmate? He practiced necromancy? None of it seemed very relevant right now, but it made Jon wonder who else was resurrected from the dead. Was necromancy common in this universe, like knitting?

Still, Helen explained quite a bit. It also suggested what Jon was already wondering: that the supernatural was far from foreign. If Helen was supernatural, and not just...a jerk. 

If Tim was an Avatar of the Hunt...if he had been in the coffin...and Daisy’s been hard to track down…

Jon was interrupted in his increasingly coherent train of thought by his food arriving, and all thoughts were thrown out the window. His basket of fish and chips slid in front of him, and he wasted absolutely no time in cramming the fries into his mouth three at a time, not wasting time salting or putting vinegar on them. They were dripping with crease, soggy and burning his tongue. 

They were perfect.

The waiter, looking somewhat intimidated, slid his bacon butty on the table too, and Jon took barely a moment to swallow before stuffing that in his face too. Bacon, butter, brown sauce - it exploded on his tongue, a cavalcade of salt and seasoning. Increasingly terrified, the waiter put his pie and mash on the table and quickly fled, as Jon finished cramming the sandwich into his mouth before moving back to the fish. It was hot, crackling on his tongue, strong and fishy and perfect.

Jon looked up from his food long enough to grab a glass of water and gulp half of it down. It wasn’t until he put his glass down that he saw the looks on the faces of his Assistants. All of whom ranged from frightened to terrified.

  Everybody except Martin, whose chin was propped on his hand and was sighing dreamily. “It’s really hot how you can pack it all away, Jon. Do you want to come over to my flat and let me cook for you? I’d make a lot of food. ”

Jon choked on his fish.

That was it for Sasha. She slammed her book down, expression intent, and jabbed a finger at a now wheezing Jon. “Jon would never choke at Martin’s creepy flirting! That isn’t Jonathan Sims!”

Jon stole Tim’s glass of water, ignoring his squawk, and downed that too. 

Now everybody really was staring at him, and Jon felt heat rise to his cheeks. As the kids say, busted. He should probably stop eating and make his escape while he still could, before Tim decided to change his mind on his ‘murdering Jon’ stance. 

But outside did not have pub food. Inside had pub food. Jon made his decision with the knowledge that, if his Assistants reacted from a reasonable place of Imposter-based trauma and killed him for pretending to be Jonathan Sims, he’d deserve it. He was not moving from this spot until his food was gone or his Assistants killed him. 

Jon finished off Tim’s water, dropping it back on the lacquered table, and hoarsely said, “I’ve been having a very strange day.”

Nobody leaped for his throat or pointed a gun at him, which was always nice. It was more than Jon had been expecting. Instead, everybody looked at Melanie, who narrowed her eyes. Jon realized, a second too late, that they were waiting for her. Whatever happened to him, Melanie would decide. 

...why Melanie? 

Melanie rested her elbows on the table, steepling her fingers in front of her mouth. She locked eyes with Jon, breaking him down like a judge at a dog show, and Jon tried to shovel mash in his mouth as innocently as possible. 

“Sasha. What’s your evidence?”

“He’s been acting weird all day,” Sasha said promptly, as if she’d been expecting the question. She shifted her arm purposefully, and Jon realized with a start that she was concealed carrying. Was that legal? “Jon never asks me for Statements outright, he always just sneaks them behind Melanie’s back. If he really fainted because he was hungry, he would have eaten his lunch too, instead of just my granola bar. And he hasn’t talked to Martin since he fainted - he isn’t even sitting next to him.” Sasha drew herself up triumphantly. “And, he looked actually scared when Martin threw that knife at him. He’s never scared of Martin. He normally just role-plays the fear bit.”

“Which I appreciate,” Martin said supportively, making Jon blanch. That elicited more suspicious looks from everyone, which Jon couldn’t even begin to parse. “But he has been acting strange today, hasn’t he?”

“Tim?” Melanie asked sharply. 

Tim sniffed loudly, wrinkling his nose a little. “Smells like him.” At Melanie’s intense look, he grudgingly added, “No sawdust or plastic. Flesh and blood, boss.”

Jon began stuffing forkfuls of pastry and meat crumb from the pie in his mouth as Melanie went back to squinting at Jon. Not glaring - just an intense, sidelong look, fingers steepled in front of her. “You aren’t denying it, Jon.”

Jon mumbled something. 

“Swallow your food.”

Jon carefully swallowed his mouthful of dough. “I have not eaten human food,” Jon said delicately, “in five months. I will answer your questions momentarily.”

And then Jon cleaned all three of his plates, to the dumbfounded looks of his Assistants. 

Finally, after everybody else’s drinks had arrived - including Jon’s pint, which he reached for so quickly that Martin stole it away from him and refused to give it back - and Jon had cleaned all three of his plates, he felt ready to talk. He thumped on his chest, burping a little, and leaned back in his plush seat. Melanie was nursing her pint, sipping from it slowly, as Basira gave him her usual ‘I don’t trust you as far as I can throw you’ look. 

“Okay,” Jon said finally. “I apologize for not - ah, clarifying before. I thought I was dreaming. To be honest, I worry that I’m still dreaming.” He looked down at his empty basket and plates. “I dearly hope that wasn’t human flesh or something horrid like that.”

Sasha perked up. “Like in the cannibal priest statement? That’s fascinating -”

“Shut up about cannibal priests,” Melanie groaned, and Sasha guiltily shut up. Oddly rude, but nobody seemed surprised. “You are Jon, right?”

“Yes, in almost every way.” Jon wiped his mouth with a napkin, balling it up and dropping it on the table. “Jonathan Sims, thirty one years old, Aquarius. Head Archivist of the Magnus Institute. The Archivist.” He paused a beat, uncertain of how to broach this. “I think Helen may have deposited me in an alternate dimension? Best case scenario.”

Everybody stared at him blankly. 

“Well,” Basira said finally, “sounds like the kind of bullshit you get yourself wrapped up in, Jon.”

“I knew it!” Sasha cried, before deflating. “I mean, I didn’t, really, not at all, but that’s fascinating! Will you answer some questions? Who’s the Queen in your universe?”

“I’m back from the dead for a week and my life’s already stupid again,” Tim said blankly. 

“Two Jons?” Martin asked, far too excitedly. 

“Can I leave you alone,” Melanie gritted out, between clenched teeth, “for five minutes?”

Then everybody was talking over each other, arguing and exclaiming and yelling, and Jon frantically drank his pint. They were so loud. 

Finally, Melanie chopped a hand through the buzz, and everyone quieted. She pursed her lips, looking Jon up and down, and he anxiously let himself get looked at. “How did you know it was an alternate universe? What’s the difference?”

“Martin threw a knife at me and Tim and Sasha are alive,” Jon said instantly. 

“I’m not actually dead in your universe,” Tim said quickly, “just trapped in an infernal demon hell coffin. If you can get me out, I’d be really thankful -”

“No, you’re quite dead,” Jon said apologetically. “That happened to Daisy in my universe, though. A - a lot of what you did here, I think, Daisy did.” He looked at Basira, frowning. “Where is Daisy? She’s not…”

“She’s fine,” Basira said curtly, folding her arms and leaning back. “Having lots of fun ditching us and having fun at her little secretary desk. It’s fine. I don’t care. She can do what she wants, she’s an adult.”

“Basira’s been pining tragically ever since Daisy ran off to go work for Peter Lukas,” Melanie said sympathetically. 

Jon felt a little called out. “Ah. That’s - that’s very unfortunate.” He slowly turned to Martin, who still seemed caught up in the ‘two Jons’ aspect of this. “And you’re...you would define yourself as full of rage?”

“At all times, all the time, without cessation,” Martin agreed affably. “Why? That’s not weird to you, is it?”

“Uh huh.” Jon slowly turned to Sasha. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to insult you, but...did you happen to once work as a Constable for the Met?”

Everybody winced. Sasha sighed. “I regret all of my actions and I’m very sorry that I was once a pig and I’ll never do it again because I value due process now.”

“Word, sister,” Tim said, raising his pint. 

“Hm,” Jon said, far too much coming together.  But that left a big question, one thing that didn’t make sense. “What about me? Do I - eat trauma?”

Basira stared at him blankly. “You try, sometimes, but we usually just spray water at you until you stop.”

“That explains it,” said Jon, despite the fact that it didn’t explain anything. 

“Your questions are pointless, and this is a waste of time.” Melanie clapped her hands sharply, making everyone straighten to attention. She stood up from her seat, everybody scrambling to protect their glasses as Melanie clambered on top of the table. “Helen! Get out here!”

“She’s not - she’s not Beetlejuice, you can’t just call her name and make her appear,” Jon said blankly. “How’s she even supposed to hear -”

“She can hear me just fine,” Melanie called, “because she’s been sitting at the bar this whole time.”

Everybody’s heads craned around to look at the bar. Through the stream of people, carrying drinks and laughing, Jon could faintly make out a tall, willowy figure with a large afro sitting on a barstool at the bar, tapping the rim of one elegant martini with a long, manicured fingernail. 

Then she swiveled around, and Helen grinned broadly at all of them. She waved cheekily with one hand, fingers waving and rippling strangely in the dim pub lights. “Hello! You rang?”

Melanie jabbed a finger at the table pointedly. “Michael’s too young to be here too, Helen!”

“They’re eighteen, they’re a big non-Euclidean concept!” Helen tittered, as she hopped of the stool. Jon’s draw dropped as a much smaller, slight figure next to her hopped off too. They were a teenager, with a curly mop of blonde hair and big, watery blue eyes that seemed just a little strange. Everything about them was on the edge of familiar, and not in the usual way of the Spiral. 

“She was waiting for us to figure it out,” Basira murmured, catching Jon’s attention. “It’s definitely funny to her.”

“Helen defined schadenfreude, I’m afraid,” Jon said, depressed, as Helen and her tagalong popped up at the edge of their table. Melanie had said Michael - and the kid did look like Michael, younger and alive and wide-eyed. Their watery eyes caught on Jon, and they tilted their head curiously. The sight of them hurt Jon’s head more than the Spiral usually did - a testament to the human body he was borrowing. 

Human. That was no defense. He was vulnerable, and judging from the angle of Helen’s smile she knew it. 

“Enjoying your vacation, Archivist?” Helen tittered, folding her hands girlishly as Melanie hopped off the table and back in her seat. “I’ve been having so much fun in this universe I thought I ought to bring a friend! Buy one plane ticket get one free, you know. I have this coupon for a great spa around here -”

“Helen,” Melanie intoned dangerously.

Helen tittered a nervous laugh. Was she...scared of Melanie? “Don’t worry! Your darling little Jon’s perfectly safe. He’s having a great time in one of my favorite dimensions, this wonderful post-apocalyptic adventure with a werewolf -

“Helen,” Melanie said slowly, danger building with every word, “we talked about what happens when you remove Jons from their native ecosystems.”

“They get sick,” Michael said somberly, nodding their head. “An’ wilt.”

“It is very stressful for the Jon, Helen. You know what we don’t like?”

“A stressed Jon?” Michael volunteered. 

“Yes, Michael.” Melanie smiled pleasantly at Helen, who blanched. “A stressed Jon. Because when Jon gets stressed, my girlfriend gets stressed. And when my girlfriend gets stressed, I get stressed. And when I get stressed, everybody is about to have a very bad time. Get it? Helen?”

“Completely understood, very sympathetic, I see your point completely,” Helen said hurriedly. “Really, you can say that I did my dear Archivist a favor! He hasn’t had a human body in almost half a year, the poor dear was so sad about it. It’s a break, really!”

Tim squinted at Jon. “You’re really full on fear demon, then?”

Jon squirmed guiltily, ashamed.  “I prefer the term Avatar. But...yes, I’m an amoral monster distant from humanity, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Melanie said impatiently. “You’re about as far from humanity as I am. Having stupid superpowers or cramming shitty food into your mouth doesn’t make you inhuman, it just means you hang out with the wrong crowd. Go back to your own universe and get some rest, I bet you’re stressing out all your friends.”

“I’m really not,” Jon said weakly. “I - I really only have one friend.”

“No wonder you look so tragic all the time,” Sasha said thoughtfully. “Jon gets all mopey without affection. Like an unwatered plant.”

“I eat trauma,” Jon said, bewildered at the perception of harmlessness. 

“You and half of the YouTube vlogging community.” Melanie clapped her hands again sharply, pulling everyone to attention. “Helen. Put Jon back where he came from or so help me.”

“Ruining all my fun,” Helen pouted, but at Melanie’s glare she sighed. She held up one hand, and static rippled through the air. The hand elongated, twisted, and turned into Helen’s signature lengthy claw. Michael eyed it with interest, before holding up their own hand and doing the same. “Fun while it lasted, Archivist! Now hold still. I wouldn’t want to lobotomize the wrong lobe.”

“Nice meeting you,” Sasha said politely, to a very freaked out Jon. “Don’t come back, though.”

“Come back if you want,” Basira yawned. “My life’s boring, spice it up a little.”

“Sorry I’m dead in your universe or whatever,” Tim said, waving a hand. “Life and death is meaningless anyway, so I’m sure it’s for the best.”

“I want my Jon back,” Martin complained. “Go on and get out, then.”

“Tell your friends what we told you,” Melanie said. “Don’t they know that you get all tragic when you’re lonely?”

And Jon didn’t know how to say it - that they didn’t know, or if they did then they didn’t care, because they had so many bigger problems than if Jon was sad or not. With Elias’ strange plans, with Jon’s encroaching monsterhood and his slow and steady starvation, with Martin’s loneliness and Basira’s desperation and Melanie’s instability, Jon’s feelings were the least important thing in the world. 

Did it matter, to anybody but Jon, that he thought of Martin first thing in the morning and last thing as he went to bed at night? 

“Hold still and look straight at me!” Helen said, and Jon had to be thankful - because that let him look at Sasha and Tim, eyes wide and intrigued, as Helen speared her finger through Jon’s forehead. 

Jon blacked out, but the images of Sasha and Tim stayed burned behind his eyelids. He dreamed calm dreams, of him and Martin and Sasha and Tim, laughing together, as the world faded away.

****

When Jon woke up, it was with a crick in his neck, and he knew immediately he had fallen asleep on the battered old couch in his office again. 

There was a heavy weight on his chest, and when he pried his eyes open he saw the top of Daisy’s head in front of him. Dusty blonde hair pooled on his chest as Daisy snored, deep asleep, arm stretched over his torso. 

The taste of salt and grease was on his tongue, and Jon let himself go back to sleep. The dreams would be terrifying and desolate, but at least in them he was never hungry. 

[thirdhandidiot]

Yes I’m here to offer domestic dialucibarb. No I havnt gotten any further on the Young Dialuci au. What you gonna do?

This is just 1.9k of unapologetic soft idiots in love

•The three of them are like your typical old married couple, except with wings and horns and oh dear, they’re arguing over who has to get up to make more tea

•Barb and Lucifer lovingly bicker a LOT, much to Diavolo’s amusement. It will be over the most trivial things that neither of them really care about either, they just enjoy trying to one up eachother verbally. Lucifer once threatened to throw Barbatos out a window, absolutely not meaning it, but Barb taunted him, telling him he probably couldn’t even pick him up, he’s so skinny and all he ever does is paper work and there’s no way he’d ever hurt him, never mind have the physical strength required. Lucifer absolutely decides he’s going to take it personally and lunges, picking Barbatos clean off the floor, bridal style, triumphant smirk lighting up his face, only to immediately realise that Barb has wrapped his arms around his neck to make sure he doesn’t fall. They’re both immediately far too flustered to do anything after that, just staring at eachother in shock, remaining there for what feels like hours until Diavolo walks in and coos at them, taking hundreds of pictures whilst the pair get impossibly more red. The image ends up Diavolo’s Home Screen, and don’t be fooled, he treasures all images of his boyfriends, especially together, but this one, he thinks, will always be a favourite

•They’re all sappy in their own ways, but mostly Diavolo, he is shameless. He will talk about ‘his darling boyfriends’ at any given opportunity, and more. Whilst it’s rather sweet to see him so passionate and so happy in love, it gets rather inconvenient in meetings when everyone just wants to go home. The brothers are particularly upset by this as whilst the gossip about Lucifers love life was fun at first, they’re rather bored of hearing how cute Lucifer is he wakes up, and they’re still a little scared of what Barbatos might do if they end up hearing too much. And that’s not all, Dia loves tropey dates that he read about in books and imagined going on with the two of them before they got together, his favourite being picnics, which he adores. He and Barbatos will spend hours in the kitchen preparing a sweet lunch date for Lucifer (by which Barb does all the preparations and Diavolo provides ‘moral support’ in the form of kisses and trying to steal bits of food only to get caught everytime and punished with more kisses- needles to say this is not an effective punishment to persuade him to stop)

•Barbatos relaxes a lot more when he’s off the clock, even having gently bullied Diavolo into making HIM tea, even if it’s not as good, after all, he’s been working all day and he’s tired. When they first got together he always felt guilty asking anything of Diavolo, feeling that it was an imbalance to their dynamic, but he quickly comes to see that Diavolo loves the chance to try to do things for him, even if they aren’t nearly as efficient or well done. Diavolo just wants to look after his boys like they do him and this usually comes in the form of serving them cute biscuits he found and hid until that moment just to see them smile

•Lucifer gets stressed easily and puts up a near flawless front of professionalism and dedication to his work, however Barb has spent decades doing the same and is always the first to tell when Luci needs to take a break. Whilst Barb has strict ‘off the clock‘ hours, Lucifer has tried to bring paper work to bed multiple times, frustrating the other two to no end. Despite that, Lucifer has gotten a lot better at taking care of himself ever since he realised how happy it made his partners, and it’s not like he minds spending more time with them, infact subtly asking lucifer if he wants couch cuddles is the fastest way to get him to leave his work, the man is tired and desperately craves affection, not that he likes to admit it, but they all know

•Barbatos has a strange fondness for human conspiracy documentaries, and Diavolo is prone to believing an awful lot of them. Barb loves to tell Diavolo that they’re real, convincing him that ‘Yes all birds are spies darling, is that not common knowledge?‘ or ‘The human realm has underground lizard people, didn’t you know love? The do all of Earth’s admin work, someone has to‘ This leads to an awful lot of misunderstandings that usually Lucifer clears up. He pretends to be annoyed but when he walks into the front room to see his Barb lying on top of Diavolo, enthusiastically telling him that there’s aliens in Area 51 whilst Diavolo stares back, mouth open in shock, he doesn’t stop them, just presses a kiss to each of their foreheads and goes to make hot chocolates for everyone and brings blankets back with him, making a note of whatever it is that Dia is about to believe so that he can make sure that damage control can be done ahead of time. (He finds it cute when Diavolo tries to tell his brothers about it, Mammon falling hook line and sinker for each one. The others are more sceptical until Diavolo says that Barbatos told him, at which point they just end up confused, surely Barbatos wouldn’t lie to Lord Diavolo? (He would if it was funny))

•When Lucifer moved out, Levi sent him an old console under the guise that it was for Diavolo, who had expressed an interest in learning to play various games. Dia absolutely loves it, and lucifer really is very competitive.. the two of them can be found trying to distract the other whilst playing mariokart, resorting to pushing, biting and even a few instances of manifesting wings to try block the others view of the screen. As soon as one of them has as good as lost they’ll switch to just making the others game as hard as possible. There’s nothing raunchy about the wrestling match that breaks out as a result, Barb has decided it’s a good form of physical therapy for them both and just records them. He has a file of ‚blackmail‘ that they all know he will never use, it’s mostly just a folder of cute but embarrassing pictures and videos of Luci and Diavolo. (Diavolo has Barb send him everything, he loves to watch it back)

•None of them are particularly ‘flamboyant‘ although Diavolos love for human world festivals has landed them at various pride festivals before. Lucifer was mostly confused seeing as sexuality isn’t an issue in the Devildom, neither is ‘polyamory’, a concept he’d never spared much thought to. Diavolo is delighted to see Humans celebrating love and feeds off the positivity (he also gets hit on a lot, but after spending just ten seconds with him it’s obvious he’s already madly in love and that there’s no separating him from the slightly alarmed looking men loitering behind him that he proudly calls his boyfriends). Barbatos is constantly trying not to get lost, it’s busy and he ends up having to hold on to someone at all times. It’s not his fault, he can’t use magic here and there’s no other way to combat the crowds, Lucifer stop smirking he isn’t short it’s just that you’re both bloody giants, Lucifer you’re encouraging Diavolo, p l e a s e. Dia loves it though because it gives him an excuse to cling to his boyfriends all day and people will randomly tell him how lucky he is, he absolutely agrees

•Both Barbatos and Lucifer have threatened Diavolo with bodily harm at some point after they’ve been woken up by one of his stray limbs in the night. The two of them sleep quite comfortably next to eachother, occasionally with an arm or leg over the other, but no matter how Diavolo falls asleep he ends up in a dreadfully confusing position that no one really wants to question. Unfortunately he also tends to gravitate towards the heat of the others too, making them easy targets Diavolo’s heavy limbs. He’s always sure to apologise when he finds out in the morning, even if he finds their grumpy faces quite amusing. He won’t laugh out loud though because one time Barb was so disgruntled when he woke up that he bit the hand that was smothering his face and Diavolo ended up having to have his hand bandaged in the middle of the night. Needless to say that Lucifer was both confused and concerned when he woke up (and a little proud, he’s extra nice to Barbatos all day, who feels a little guilty about it, even if Diavolo was ok)

•Diavolo and Barb will wind lucifer up deliberately, and whilst he is entirely aware what’s happening, he indulges them. Diavolo will convince the brothers to try some kind of scheme that they wouldn’t be able to pull off without him, but makes sure it’s never taken too far, and Barbatos will egg Lucifer on as soon as he finds out about whatever minor inconvenience has befallen him. He won’t admit it, but it makes Lucifer incredibly happy to see his brothers take such a shine to his partners, and whilst he wishes they’d have a little more trust in Barbatos, Barb assures him that he isn’t upset and that it can be used to spook the brothers a little. There will be weekly ‚family meals‘ which always seem a great idea before hand, he somewhat misses living with his brothers after all, but always result in him going home with a headache. He’s grown used to the loving and (mostly) calm presence of his beloved, so seeing his brothers hurling both insults and occasionally food or assorted table wear at eachother, has a tendency to infuriate him. (He hasn’t realised that they act up more when he’s there)

•Dia Is obsessed with matching couples things and is constantly trying to find things for the three of them, but due to lower supply, they end up being so much tackier and non sensical. Barbatos genuinely despises them, but opts to say nothing because of how happy Diavolo is. Lucifer knows this and whilst he isn’t exactly a fan either, he indulges Dia just to tease Barb. (They do all have matching keychains tho, with different charms. Diavolos has a little teacup and a feather, Lucifers has a crown and a cake and Barbatos‘ has a pickle and a peacock. He was the one who got them to make up for all the hideous ideas Diavolo had, and delighted in seeing Diavolos pouty face when he realised what Barb had chosen. He did end up also adding a golden heart tho, somewhat pacifying Diavolo)

•Whilst it’s usually Diavolo who initiates longer cuddles, Barb likes to wrap his arms around his lovers from behind, pressing his forehead into their shoulder blades. He finds is comforting to be so close whilst allowing the other to continue with whatever they were doing before. Before leaving he will stretch to place a kiss on the back of their neck, a silent reminder of his love. Most of the time Barbatos is very quiet, opting to watch, and it’s only when he’s relaxed that he becomes chatty. Both Luci and Dia recognise this and can’t help but feel special whenever Barbatos is particularly talkative, and Barb is grateful that they don’t ask questions and love him for who he is

•Lucifer absolutely initiates the most ‚traditional‘ kisses, he’s proud of his partners and wants everyone to know that they’re his. He’s also a bit of a traditional romanticist when given the chance, leaving bouquets of various flowers, with the meanings for each attached on a handwritten card, a line of poetry and an elaborate signature. If he ever gets given flowers back he melts a little and keeps them on his desk as long as possible, before pressing the best looking ones. He has notebooks just filled with pressed flowers that he treasures. He doesn’t know that Diavolo and Barbatos both know about the notebooks and is convinced he’s slick

•Some nights the three of them will get drunk together and spend hours giggling and pressing kisses to eachothers faces and feeding them fancy chocolates. They half lay half sit on a slightly too small couch that they never replace for a more suitably sized one. Diavolo will slowly reach across to brush Lucifers fringe out of his eyes before gently caressing his face and pulling him in for a long slow kiss that tastes of expensive demonus and the orange sweets that Diavolo keeps on his desk. Barbatos is more than content to sit and watch his two gorgeous boyfriends kiss for a few minutes before they both turn their attention to him and decorate his face with kisses, across his cheeks and forehead, straying down to his chin and up to his eyelids, trying to convey all their love for eachother in adoring looks and heads pressed into necks

@softrealism Thankyou for inspiring me to post xx

[persephonealmana]

My Thoughts On The Vic Situation

I’m aware that I’m going to be called a “cunt”, “bitch” and other vile names for speaking my opinion but this is just my thoughts on the whole situation. 

~*~*~*~*~*

Considering that I'm more caught up with Overwatch VA's these days, but I have sadly learned of a situation with a VA that I loved.

Read the journal for more information:

There are some journals about this.

I never thought that the #metoo movement was going to be a problem movement. It was originally combating against Sexual Harassment, but I guess there are people out there to twist it for their own agenda. Like Monica and Jamie did. They twisted it to fit their own agenda to take a person down, just like anyone that uses this movement to twist it for their own personal gain. These fucking idiots felt like using it as a weapon to ruin people's lives JUST for the hell of it. Susan B. Anthony must be rolling in her grave right about now, I can't blame her though. Since all of her female descendants are poisoning the feminist movement and forgetting about equality.

I also forgot that Vic was accused of sexually assaulting girls at cons, which there is no EVIDENCE of him doing that.

Both Monica and Jamie DON'T have evidence that Vic did this to them. Allegations like this require evidence and so far Monica & Jamie show none of it.  It's all a hearsay.

These people basically don't know what sexual harassment is! They never met anyone or experienced what sexual harassment is like or how to feel. They decided to say; well I was sexually harassed by this person, but I don't know what it's like being sexually harassed anyways.

Was Vic being inappropriate? No. But yes, he is a bit of a touchy guy but he doesn't mean to be touchy it's just who he is. He always asked permission before giving hugs and kisses on cheeks, but there are at times where he does it without consent. The fans are ok with that. But what was his crime? Being Overly-friendly to people. Being too nice to people even his co-workers, now he's going to be afraid to hug his fans again after this situation, he's going to be afraid to give out his hugs and kiss on the cheeks to fans. Since he won't know if they will sue him or file harassment against him. Studying Vic's body language, tone, and speech during his apology he displays textbook remorse, sorrow, and self-awareness.  From what I have seen he clearly got comfortable with treating everyone fairly, assuming everyone wanted to be hugged, kissed or fan serviced with a scene of one of his popular characters. The man has already apologized for becoming too lazy about hugs which display self-awareness and remorse.

They, Monica and Jaimie, think hugging and kissing on the cheek is sexual harassment. Which is not! Vic is very affectionate to his friends and fans, he's not afraid to hide that. Even they should go to some European countries that are big on giving hugs and kisses on the cheeks.

The fact that the voice actors of DBZ are throwing Vic under the bus to save face makes me sick to my stomach even their comments, don't get me started on the comments some made. Personally, they have a personal vendetta against him, which I'll explain at the end, they know Monica and just want to defend her of all this BS. Then again the majority of these voice actors at Funimation are narcissistic Leftists.

Funimation dropped Vic without hearing his side, cons banned him and now he's left with nothing. He's banned from Cons and fired for doing a job that he loves and a community that he adores.

It's funny that they dropped Vic without evidence, but remember the incident where another VA of FUNimation was accused of Child Pornography? FUNimation decided to wait until the evidence comes out. But with Vic? Nope, sorry bud you are cut from the scene.

The only voice actor that is on Vic's side is Todd. He is standing by Vic's side, which I praise him for.

I literally lost respect for Funimation, which I haven't watched them for years, they fired Vic without evidence shown. While Funimation said that they don't condone harassment, they still have Monica, Jaimie, and Sean who openly harass fans who question them over the lack of evidence.

Monica is basically acting like a bully who constantly says that they are going to tell on you but with her, it's like "I'm gonna screenshot this to show my lawyer!" She obviously now thinks she can sue people for disagreeing with her. Can I say that those who were sexually harassed sure as hell won't go online to tell the whole world what happened!

I’d say if you’re accusing someone of something serious you are OBLIGATED to provide evidence. Where has the mentality come from where you accuse someone of something horrible and serious and you expect people to go off nothing but word of mouth alone and treat the accused as 100% confirmed guilty? That’s a disgusting backward way of thinking.

Especially with screenshots being capped of people wanting to edit photos of Vic to make him look guilty because of their twisted sense of justice. The people who felt uncomfortable exist, but don’t you dare sweep under the rug the proven false allegations still circulating and people with malicious intent trying to lie to make things worse.

You can’t accuse people and when someone asks you to bring more info and proof to the table you essentially say “I don’t owe you proof, you’re supposed to just believe me completely.”

NO. That’s not how things should ever work in real life. It’s illogical and illogical to expect that of people.

Does she not realize serious allegations like this can lead Vic to depression and suicide? But then again she doesn't care nor does SJW's care about whose career was destroyed. Which I hope Vic doesn't consider even doing. No one wants that.

Monica Rial has officially gone on a complete meltdown on twitter. She's showing her true colors: she's a textbook narcissist with false victimization tendencies.  She displays compulsory to lying, passive aggressiveness to hold herself accountable. She doesn't want to stop the harassment on Twitter, she's fueling it. She said that she had to be far from social network because of her lawyer's advice (which is the best solution honestly), and now she keeps threatening people like that. She threatens those that question her for evidence and to show proof. How can she still work at Funimation after this, this is unacceptable. She didn't give us any PROPER photo evidence, video or audio evidence to back it up these claims. Now if there was evidence I'll happily change my mind but this is all just a hearsay. When Monica threatened to sue anyone who simply makes a video that has a different opinion than her, it showed a guilty conscious. She bragged about getting his job after this, she claimed he didn't have the right of innocence before being guilty outside of court. Can I just say it's funny that I know two people that are treating Twitter like a courthouse? Monica Rial & Timethy Heller? Both are treating Twitter like it's their personal courthouse just to be sided with.

And FUNimation is basically defending her through this BS. Monica personally LIED to take Vic's job away from him.

Also, how can fans follow this VA that constantly harasses people that asks for evidence? Like, how can you still support her after what she's doing? She has no video evidence, no anything to prove her point that Vic did this to her, it's all a hearsay!

But now let's take a look at this at another angle, this is just a thought: If Monica Rial and other coworkers apparently knew that Vic Mignogna had been this “sexual predator” for years, why didn’t anybody do anything about it beforehand? Why didn't they report his behavior to HR(Human Resources) if he was sexually harassing them? Or even try to talk with him to curb his behavior.

How were they still working with him that whole time? No investigation, no police report, no credible evidence, nothing? And she’s saying she doesn’t owe any sort of explanation? Yes, she does! She OWES an explanation to fans about him. She and others put fans in danger because of him if he was a "Sexual predator".

Especially if she’s trying to make claims against someone regarding sexual assault or sexual harassment. Those are serious offenses that should be reported to law enforcement immediately, not some angry Tweet to vent to some fans and subscribers about on social media years after the supposed offense.

If Vic is proven guilty (which I doubt cause I've yet to see hard solid proof but there hasn't been any) then they should be held accountable as well cause they let a predator on the loose and turned a blind eye to his wrongdoings and all the people he "sexually harassed" after that are because of them cause they knew but didn't stop him.

Thanks to them they banned someone who's the most sweetest VA anyone has met, a lot of people had met Vic and they literally said he's the sweetest person.  Vic also defended the LGBT+ community and told off a bunch of Christians in front of the building where the con was being held to leave so that those that were attending can enjoy.

To those who say he's "homophobic", he supports the LGBT. He might be Christian but he defends and supports the LGBT+ community.

Much to the saying says; Rethink your heroes and never met your heroes. Since you may not like who you meet. It's like a punch to the gut for fans to realize that these VA's of DBZ are shitty people.  All respect that fans had for them, they lost their respect for them.

But I'm also saying that there are friendly VA's that you should meet and that you should have a great experience with. Just remember that VA's are humans too and they can have emotions just like us.

Continuing,

I need to add that Sean Schemmel, Goku's VA. Funny enough, I liked Sean since he seemed like a cool guy but after this situation (probably from the youtube videos that make him look like a cool guy).  I stopped liking him as a person, I love him as a VA but not a person, he's also coming to Wisconsin Comic Convention so a lot of fans will give him shit about this situation. I bet that no fans would ever wanna meet him in person anymore and avoid him because he turns out to be such a rude, disrespectful douche. A fan talked about Sean that he's a mixed bag, he can be nice & Friendly but he stresses a lot, another said he has Bipolar Disorder.

He basically defended Monica and Jaimie after this situation, he absolutely has lost my respect by his behavior to some people. Some people like myself are trying to stay neutral and objective about this, but Sean is making it personal by tweeting this out.

Only, I think Sean jumped into the Vic situation because he doesn't like him. Maybe that he has a fear that he's not going to be FUNimations poster boy anymore since Vic is a very talented Voice Actor. People give Monica, Sean Schemmel, Chris Sabat and so on way too much credit. They've been planning to get rid of Vic for years, ever since Vic stepped into the studio. Now that the Super Broly movie has gotten so much praise, it was the perfect opportunity to get Vic in trouble with false accusations. Vic is a white European male who has strong Christian ties - it's exactly who the Leftists love to side against. This man is literally one of the nicest guys out there. And there's also proof that was leaked of people planning to stage evidence against Vic, such as photoshopped pictures to accuse him of something he didn't do.

Monica is one of many threats. There's also Chris Sabot, who stated only the so-called 'survivors' know the truth and that we should listen to them. Sonny Strait is also attempted to back up Monica's claims. And there's that Neil, who openly admits he's always hated, Vic. He posted a video of Vic riding on the guy's shoulders at convection. Almost like a damn parody, he tried using that video as evidence, claiming he felt assaulted. Which wasn't an assault, he got on his shoulders and was having himself a good time, Neil looked like he was having fun too.

Then there's Jamie, who stated she basically wants Vic dead. How psychotic do you have to be? Jamie is an absolute psycho, just like that Marzbitch(Who started the whole kickvic campaign). Even Jamie has a lot of nerve to tell Vic to apologize to her. What for, Jamie?! If you ask me, Jamie Marchi needs to apologize to him for the death threats, name-calling treating him like shit. She needs to apologize, but she won't because she'll refuse too. Every FUNimation VA's chose a side, some have remained silent on the matter, but some have decided to add fuel to the flames making it bigger.

Anyway back to Sean, he is dragging us through the mud throughout all of this bullshit. Fans want answers. Monica made this public on twitter. It is our business now. Which it shouldn't.

If they wanted to handle this professionally and privately, they would have done so. They did not do so. They are acting like children. Monica took to twitter, she made it public and now it's the fans business now. She's treating Twitter like a courthouse so that she can be believed and have fans turn against Vic, she's manipulating them into thinking that Vic is this monster, which he isn't. Those that want evidence, they know what's going on and they don't believe her. There is more proof coming out of the woodwork.

To everyone defending Monica, stop. You have fallen for her lies. This woman, instead of going to the authorities, staying neutral til proof was presented, choose to talk about something this serious on Twitter. She wants attention and she got it. Hell, her withholding information like this alone makes her a shitty person because of she alone, for those who believe that Vic is a monster, put more people in danger.

She knew that saying she was a victim would get everyone on her side because she voices Bulma, a very well-known and loved anime character. And you believed her. No questions asked just “Omg not you too!” “I’m so sorry you had to go through that!” “NoT mOnIcA!”

Doesn't take much to win y'all over huh? Anyone could say that Vic touched them inappropriately at this point and you’d immediately believe them without proof or a bit of an explanation on what happened, and no, saying “He was creepy” isn’t good enough. Not when it comes to accusations like this.

If they didn't want any of this to happen, they should not have gotten their fans involved. Now some people could be in serious danger because of these FUNimation VA's releasing private information. Do they think about their fans? No. This just shows their true colors, they don’t care about them. They don't care that they put their fans in a serious situation because they couldn't keep their mouth shut.

The swatting incident is absolutely awful and I hope whoever did it is found and charged with attempted murder. Sean talked about this in a tweet. This has already happened several times in the gaming community and has even lead to someone being killed. Swatting is a very serious matter and should not be done on any side. I know that a voice actor almost getting killed is terrible (it's a relief Reuben is alright and alive), but scapegoating the Vic supporters into this is just idiotic. We have nothing to do it with it and even if were someone who supports Vic, he's not doing a good job and we disassociate that person from us. If Vic is innocent, this is not how you prove it.

He's digging his grave ever deeper, just like Monica is. He's ruining his reputation more. He's showing more of how much of a douche he is. He's making more of his fans losing respect to him.

All of it is his fault, not the fans.  He's dragging the fans down with him.

He said he was going to "stay off of twitter" but he decides not too. Why is it that hard for him to comprehend that?! If you want to "stay off of twitter" then do what you said before and not do a freakin' 180. All he had to do was say nothing. Stay out of this shit show, but no, he just had to take a side and add his fuel to the flames.  

All of this SHOULN'T HAVE BEEN MADE PUBLIC. There are reasons why lawyers tell you to stay off the media to avoid letting people know about this. When this goes to court, these tweets can and will be used against them.   Monica obviously should've listened to her lawyer's advice but nope, she refused to listen and threatened anyone who wants proof since "she has a lawyer". Obviously, Vic has a lawyer so he's doing a good job of laying low and not saying anything until they go to court.

Then what would Funimation do if these tweets are used against Monica? They would face an option on firing her,  then try to find someone to voice Bulma or just keep defending Monica once everything was revealed.

In the end, if Vic is found innocent. Then we can all say karma played her sweet role in this.  That still won't recover Vic's career sadly, since it's already been tarnished because of these allegations and it won't be the same. I even doubt he would even want to step foot in FUNimation ever again, due to all of them stabbed him in the back and ruined his career for good.

[scralettlfox-blog]

Chapter One 

Read on Wattpad

Terror Nova

Chapter Two: The Dream

She woke in the Black Valley, jolting awake with a hammering heart. The black sand beneath her feet was warm enough to feel through her combat boots. The Clochian forces were firing from the other end of the valley. Odd that she was on the ground. Valia had been a pilot in her military days. Her missions focused on sabotage and hit-and-run tactics carried out in a small, nearly undetectable one person craft. That also meant that when she went down she was alone and in enemy territory.

A bomb exploded in front of her. After years of these nightmares, she barely flinched as her ears rang and smoke filled her throat. The world flew by and she was in a trench. Screams echoed around her, the cries of agony from her fellow soldiers chief among them. Mech suit pilots stuck in crumpled exo suits, foot soldiers shot with homing bullets, and those cut with laser weapons frantically trying to save themselves.

Valia looked around her. The smoke and blood crowded her vision. Her ears rang from weapons and screams alike. This is the environment she had met T’Shan and Kylie in. T’Shan had downed her during a supply run, but not before his own ship became too damaged to fly. They’d nearly killed each other on the ground. Then, they realized the war was pointless and they didn’t want to die for it. So they had worked together to survive. They were rescued together, though T’Shan was taken prisoner. Kylie had been the one to treat her. Even defended her treatment of the enemy.

Kylie had never approved of the war. Only agreed to serve if she could treat both sides. She thought the war for Volantis One was pointless. She even turned out to be right, as Volantis 2 had been discovered after a couple years of fighting. By then, the casualties were great enough that the two peoples had to come to a treaty. All that death, for farmland that could be shared.

Valia took a step forward, perhaps to storm off. Then she was falling. She landed next to T’Shan at the ceremony where they were presented their commendations for honor during wartime. They were seen as the first to have “found peace.”

They had bonded over how much they hated those awards. T’Shan had no choice in attending, the Generals who lead the Clochian people had invited him. The first thing everyone learned about Clochian culture upon landing on Chrysalis was to never disobey the Generals. Valia could have avoided the ceremony, she had already put in her resignation by the time the Peace Accords were announced. Kylie had convinced her to go. Besides, she hadn’t wanted to let T’Shan suffer alone.

Kylie attended the Volcanis Peace Accords, which ended the war, and the Joint Planetary Agricultural Initiative ceremonies by her side. The only support she had left, once she was no longer a soldier. Kylie had also put in her resignation. They had tried to hold onto her more than Valia, though. Doctors were much more valuable than soldiers.

It was on Chrysalis that they’d had their first date. As she reminisced, the scene in front of her changed from stuffy officials giving speeches to Kylie singing offbeat in a Clochian dive bar. After a few cocktails, they had decided to stay in space. Kylie teased her about asking to go steady on the first date. She’d teased back that no one calls it “going steady” anymore.

She’d drunkenly called T’Shan about their plan to stay among the stars. He agreed almost immediately.

They hadn’t meant for it to turn into a smuggling operation. But, someone offers you enough money to sneak passed a government you don’t like in the first place…

Well, you take it.

Valia remembered the annoyed look T’Shan had on his face through the entire ceremony. His violet eyes had looked like they were trying to burn a hole in General Sh’massa’s back. Maybe he had been planning a way to get back at them the entire time.

Kylie moving towards her drew Valia out of her thoughts and back to the dream. She smiled. Kylie was stumbling, holding a glass of Clochian yasha, and moving toward her with intent. She remembered, surprisingly considering her own intoxication, that this was their first kiss.

“I don’t know how you drink that fermented…” Valia tried to remember what yasha was made out of. It flew out of her mind.

“Milk from a mountain something or other.” Kylie finished for her. She downed her drink. “I’ve had worse.”

“Not a glowing endorsement.” Valia teased.

“No, no it’s not.” Kylie agreed, a smile on her face. She leaned towards Valia. “You know what is a glowing endorsement?”

Her voice was a whisper. Valia was happy to experience a good memory for now, and let the scene play out. They both leaned in for a kiss.

Then an alarm sounded. Dream Kylie jumped away from her in alarm. It took Valia a moment to remember she was, in fact, asleep. The alarm likely meant dinner. She woke up to a very real Kylie toying with the alarm on her gauntlet and grumbling in irish. She was still pressed into Valia’s side, though a bit more twisted than she likely would have been while asleep.

“I thought you had work to do?” Valia rolled completely to her side to hug the doctor to her. Kylie let out a contented sigh that warmed her heart.

“I finished an hour ago.” Kylie kissed her shoulder before sitting up. “You looked upset, darling. Want to talk about it?”

Kylie could always tell when something was bothering Valia, no matter how much she tried to hide it. Valia loved that about her. Did make it hard to hold everything in until she exploded, which was her normal way to handle emotions.

“I was dreaming about the war, again.” Valia entwined their fingers, distracting herself by drawing patterns on Kylie’s skin.

“I’m surprised you still get those dreams.” Kylie rubbed her forehead. “I’ve gotten to the point where I don’t remember my dreams.”

“I would say I wished it never happened, but some good things did come from it.” Valia nudged her before letting go of her hand and standing.

“Like T’Shan?” Kylie teased, following her out of bed.

“Exactly.” Valia rolled her eyes. “You know, I try to be sweet.”

“I know.” Kylie assured her. “But you’re easy to tease, love.”

Luna’s voice over the intercom drew their attention.

“Captain, Jack wishes to inform you that dinner will be served in ten minutes.”

“Thank you, Luna.” Valia fixed her hair. “Tell him we’ll be right there.” “He also wanted me to tell you that the ‘new kid’ might need a hero.”

“I knew he would be trouble.” Valia mumbled. Kylie took her hand and lead her towards the mess hall.

“Let’s go save the wee lad before Amara eats him.”

Valia let herself be led on the short walk to the mess hall. Most of the crew hadn’t arrived yet. Only the officer’s tended to arrive early to meals, which was fine by Valia. She liked the crew but too many people and she felt suffocated.

T’Shan and Allen were at the furthest table from them. Kylie weaved her way through tables and crew members. When they reached the table, she let go of Valia’s hand. Jack waved as he ran by, curly hair bouncing with each step. Helper bots, a gift from Valia the last time they’d finished a big job, tried to keep up. Their frantic beeping almost sounded worried for their master.

“Captain, hope you’re feeling well enough to eat.” Jack ran past them again, beeping bots in tow. Before Valia could answer, he was gone again.

“I’m starting to think he takes the helper bots presence as a challenge.” Kylie watched as he ran by, shaking her head. “He needs to slow down.”

“Good luck getting him to.” T’Shan commented through a mouth full of toasted nuts. “I don’t think he’s taken a break since he was a little kid.”

Valia took a seat to T’Shan’s left and Kylie sat next to her. T’Shan acknowledged them both with a smile and passed a small bowl of nuts towards them. Valia took a handful before observing Allen. He still looked uncomfortable, though much less so. Perhaps Amara had calmed down. Or T’Shan had stuck to the poor boy’s side this entire time.

“So, you’re the unfortunate wee suit who is with our crew a bit, yeah?” Kylie asked. Though he was confused, Allen nodded. “Great to meet you. I’m Kylie McBride, crew calls me Cure, though. I’m the ship’s doctor.”

“Best in the galaxy.” Valia added.

“She’s biased.” T’Shan commented.

“Why wee?” Allen asked. He looked to T’Shan for help, but the Clochian simply shrugged.

“Apparently, everything is ‘wee’ in Ireland. That’s where she’s from.” Jack answered as he approached the table. He gave out utensils and cups for the officers that would be showing up.

“I think she called you a ‘wee suit’ because you’re an apprentice, though.”

“Mhm.” Kylie affirmed through a mouthful. “Not a full suit, yet.”

“That’s...odd.” It seemed like Allen struggled to find the right word. “It’s like I’m some kind of baby animal.”

“Wee lamb.” Kylie agreed, smiling at the poor boy. She was going to torture him.

“Or, like a turtle coming out of it’s shell.” Valia suggested. She should help him a little.

“Don’t turtles stay in their shells? It’s part of their body.” T’Shan asked. He promptly turned to a helper bot to order a drink. “

“Then where does the phrase ‘coming out of your shell’ come from?” Valia countered. The helper bot came for her order next and she placed both her own and Kylie’s.

“Hermit crabs? They leave their shells and find a new one as they grow.” Kylie suggested. She patted the helper bot on the head as it passed her. It let out a happy beep before moving on to Allen.

“I think it is about turtles. When they’re scared they hide in their shells. They still come out in a way, though.” Allen added, a thoughtful expression on his face. An insistent beep got him to turn and place his order.

“Don’t we all.” Valia quipped. Kylie elbowed her in response.

“Not funny.

“Yes, I am.” Valia countered. Kylie just rolled her eyes.

Allen smiled and nearly let out a laugh at their exchange. Valia thought he seemed like a nice kid. Despite his relations.

The rest of the crew and the officers filed in as they continued talking. Amara glared at Allen as she walked past, but otherwise he wasn’t paid any mind. When all the officers were gathered Valia decided that introductions were in order. She clapped her hands to get everyones attention. The table went silent.

“Alright, Allen. Now that everyone’s here we can get some introductions out of the way.” Valia started by gesturing to Skull, who had taken a seat next to Kylie. “You’ve met Skullcrusher, or Skull. He’s Novarrian, four-armed and dangerous.”

“Very dangerous.” The red hulk of muscle agreed.

“Almost as dangerous as me.” Valia joked, nearly elbowing T’Shan who spit out his drink in laughter.

“Agreed.” Skull conceded, before turning back to his mill and chugging half a pint.

“He’s our security officer, for obvious reasons.” Valia gestured even further down her row, where she could see a spotted tail next to Skull. “Next to him is Amara Lost, our resident Armaxian.”

“We’ve met.” Amara leaned forward. Valia could see her spotted fur, red eyes, and the collar that became fashionable among Armaxians following their introduction to humans.

“Engineering officer, right?” Allen asked. After Amara nodded he looked between the two very different felines. “Novarrians and Armaxians share a common ancestor, right? Do you get along?”

Skull answered “No” at the same time Amara answered “When we need to.”

“Armaxians like to say that it was the Novarrian ancestor who led to the downfall of their shared, original civilization. And vice versa.” T’Shan explained to a confused Allen. Valia had to clap her hands again when it looked like Amara and Skull were about to fight it out.

“Anyway, at the end of the row is Squid. They are Varmaxi and no, Squid is not their real name. Varmaxi don’t have names so much as feelings attached to them as a being. They serve as the Morale Officer.”

“What is a Morale Officer?” Allen asked, turning to Squid.

Squid answered in sign language as well as telepathy, as he did not have Allen’s permission to connect their minds yet someone else would likely need to translate.

I monitor crew emotions and well being. Normally, the First Mate does that but my talents are a bit more suited. The Captain created the position for me.

Squid’s various tentacles were frantically signing the symbols in Intergalatic Sign Language as he projected the information. Their signs were a little rusty. Valia was preparing to translate when, to her shock, Allen started to sign back. He spoke along with it, though he had to know it wasn’t necessary.

“I wish we had officers like that on our company ships.” Allen responded. “Maybe I could create the position if I get high enough in the company.”

“You know ISL?” T’Shan asked, clearly as surprised as Valia. Squid’s bioluminescent patches were glowing happily, so he clearly enjoyed the surprise.

“I dated a Leorian who was deaf.” Allen explained, continuing to sign along. “He taught me so I wouldn’t need to wear those translator contacts.”

“You don’t have to sign everything, they can hear you.” Valia explained. “Though, I’m sure Squid appreciates the gesture.”

“They aren’t used to people outside our crew being so suggesting.” Shoto spoke up from his seat across from T’Shan and next to Allen. Then he offered his hand to Allen. “Shoto Arakawa. Equipment Officer. Fancy way of saying I make sure everything is in stock.”

“And that it gets where it needs to go when the time comes. Like a pirate attack.” T’Shan added.

“Pleasure to meet you.” Allen shook his hand.

“Kids got manners.” Shoto cracked his knuckles, a nervous habit he had in social situations apparently. “Business world is going to eat him up.”

Allen looked like he wanted to respond, if the frown was any indication. Landon beat him to it by lightly smacking Shoto upside the head.

“Don’t listen to this jerk.” Landon leaned forward and waved at Allen. “I’m Landon, by the way. Operations Officer. I keep everything running, despite other peoples best efforts.”

“He also makes sure everyone gets paid, is up to date on all their paperwork, and a bunch of other paperwork.” Valia added.

“He and Kylie are basically the parents of the ship, making sure the rest of us don’t die.” Jack finally arrived, distributed food, and took his seat next to Landon.

Kylie and Landon both took offense to that. It lead to a quick argument between half the table about who was and wasn’t responsible. Valia focused on her dinner.

“You lot sure are lively tonight.” Jack smiled after the noise calmed down. He reached his hand in front of Landon and Shoto for Allen to shake. “Jack Grimes, Nutrition Officer. I keep everyone from starving. If any of these goons get on your nerves, you can hang out with me in the kitchen.”

“I may have to take you up on that.” Allen answered as he shook Jack’s hand. “I really would, the only other sanctuary is with Luna up on the bridge. She’s not great at communication.” Kylie suggested. She turned to Amara. “Can you do something about that, like upgrade her? Maybe add a humor module?”

“She’s an android not a gossip.” Amara growled. “You shouldn’t be such a - what do you call it? - whinker.”

“It’s whinger.” Kylie corrected. “And how dare you.”

Amara and Kylie continued their rather ridiculous debate as the helper bots began serving dessert. Kylie took a break from arguing to order herself a cup of tea. A look from Valia had her requesting decaf. When the helper bot came around to her she ordered a cup of green tea and some cookies. They were going to go bad soon, if they weren’t already stale. Once the bot happily ran away, Valia opened comms up on her gauntlet and contacted Luna.

“ETA to Omega Prime?” She asked, not bothering with the pleasantries Amara hadn’t programmed in anyway.

“We are 5 hours out, if speed stays consistent, Captain.” Luna responded quickly. Valia thanked her and closed the comms. Allen was looking like he wanted to ask a question.

“Staring isn’t polite, kid.” Valia ran her fingers through her hair. Allen opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted by the helper bots delivering their orders.

“He’s probably wondering about Omega Prime.” Kylie suggested, before stealing one of Valia’s cookies. She playfully batted her hand away, though it only earned her a grin.

“Never heard of it or never been?” Valia asked, before sipping her tea.

“Everyone’s heard of Omega Prime.” Allen shifted in his seat. “But I was told it would be unseemly for an officer in the corporation to be seen there.”

T’Shan snorted at the last comment and shot a look towards Valia and Kylie. They all knew that the people who loved Omega Prime the most were suits.

“Well, Omega Prime is everyones paradise. Stay out of the shady bits and you’ll be fine.” Kylie sent Allen a reassuring smile, before continuing to pilfer Valia’s cookies.

“I thought it was a giant den of crime?” Allen commented.

“That too.” Valia nodded. “But, it also has some of the best restaurants and entertainment in the galaxy. Criminals enjoy the finer things in life, too, ya know.”

“There are also a lot of unpleasant things. Just stay in the right districts, you’ll be fine.” Kylie waved her hand dismissively. “Not like T’Shan will let you get into trouble. He’s practically adopted you at this point.”

“Not by choice.” T’Shan commented, then turned to Allen. “No offense.”

“None taken.” Allen said, offended.

“Shoto and I can take the kid off your hands.” Landon offered. He clapped his friend on the shoulder. “We’ll show him all the safe and fun spots. Like the Virtual Arcade.”

“Did you just volunteer me?” Shoto asked, narrowing his eyes.

“Do you not want to go to the arcade with me?” Landon asked, looking a bit like a kicked puppy.

“You should definitely do that, if for nothing else then to watch Landon tear it up on a rhythm game.” Kylie suggested. “It’s brilliant.”

“Yeah, but Shoto and I have to continue our Blood Warrior V challenge first.” Landon lightly smacked Allen on the shoulder. “It’s this awesome fighting game. We play each other every chance we can get. It’s 65-64 right now, and I’m in the lead.”

“What?” Shoto interrupted. “No, I’m at 65 and you’re at 64.”

“You losing your memory in your old age?” Landon suggested. “I was winning.”

“I think you’re the one getting old.” Shoto grumbled.

“So, what were you planning to do T’Shan?” Allen turned to the Clochian, likely unsure of how to react to Landon and Shoto.

“Probably hitting up the shooting range.” Jack suggested. He had been reading a book on his gauntlet through most of the arguing, but never missed a chance to tease the First Mate.

“Actually, I was thinking of going to the Opera.” T’Shan countered. He turned to Allen. “You’re welcome to join me. It’s a galaxy renowned production of the Lonely Soldier.”

“I think I’ll stick with the arcade.” Allen decided. Landon gave him a hug from the side and assured him he wouldn’t regret it.

“Are you willing seeing an opera that’s set in a war you fought in?” Valia asked, shaking her head.

“It’s supposed to be very well written.” T’Shan defended his decision. “Besides, it’s probably based on someone we knew.”

“Yeah, that’s why I wouldn’t want to see it.” Valia mumbled into her tea.

“Why?” Allen asked. “I remember watching you both receive your commendations, you’re war heroes.”

Valia couldn’t stop herself from glaring, at least until she felt bad for making Allen sink down in his seat.

“That opera’s main character is a ghost of a fallen soldier trying to get his comrades to stop the fighting.” Kylie explained, much more kindly than Valia was capable of. She had a tight grip on her tea cup and was staring into the liquid as if it held the secrets to the universe. “It hits a tad too close to home.”

“Sorry.” Allen looked both apologetic and extremely uncomfortable. “I had no idea.”

“It’s not your fault.” T’Shan assured him. He put a hand on the boys shoulder and squeezed. “I suppose we are still fighting demons, just in our own ways.”

“On that note, I think I’m going to go sleep some more.” Valia smiled apologetically at Allen. She drained her cup, stood, and held a hand out to help Kylie up. “Care to join me?”

“I suppose.” Kylie teased.

The pair waved goodbye to the rest of the officers. They passed by some of the crew on their way out and made sure to exchange pleasantries. A quick walk and a quicker elevator ride had them up in the officer’s quarters. The Captain’s quarters were a few stairs away.

Valia enjoyed her quarters. It had it’s own starshield where she could watch the galaxy pass her by. It was also spacious enough that she didn’t feel cramped. Her room here was much better than the one she’d had on their previous ship, the Vega. That one had been destroyed by the pirates they’d taken this ship from. A win, depending on your definition.

“You aren’t actually going to sleep are you?” Kylie asked, making herself comfortable on the large round bed Valia had obtained from a client who had gone back on a deal. He’d unwillingly provided most of the nicer things on the ship.

“Too awake now.” Valia responded. She took a seat in an armchair by the starshield. “You go ahead, liebchen.”

“Don’t mind if I do.” Kylie promptly spread out across the bed and wrapped the blankets tightly around herself. Within minutes her breath had evened out, indicating she was asleep.

It seems Valia wasn’t the only one overworking herself.

She smiled at Kylie before pulling up a search on her gauntlet. It may be last minute, but she could still plan a nice anniversary with their small advance.

The stars and planets and endless black void sped by as she planned, barely paying attention to the galaxy.

To be continued...

[raendown]

And that’s all of them! @eruditeempress was the third place winner of my 1500 Followers Giveaway and this was her request! Big shout out to @mallml for offering me a bit of inspiration! ^^

Pairing: KakashiSakura Word count: 4670 Rating: T+ Summary: He hates and hates and hates until he loves her, slowly and in small pieces.

Follow the link or read it under the cut!

Crowns Of Blood And Bone

She doesn’t like him, that much is obvious. Kakashi eyes the young woman from across the room without bothering to try and hide it. There is little point when she is staring straight back at him with a completely blank expression which somehow conveys the world of pain she quite clearly wishes to rain down upon him. He isn’t exactly offended though; the feeling is entirely mutual.

Knowing that his new teammate has been rescued from ROOT makes less impact when he knows her ‘rescue’ hadn’t been entirely voluntary. Shutting down Danzo’s organization was possibly the smartest decision the Sandaime had ever made, one which Kakashi hadn’t truly believed the man was strong enough to go through with, but it has also left numerous messes to deal with in the aftermath. Among those messes are the human shadows who have been raised from infancy in their shadowy organization and never known another life. Some of them are coping well. Others, like Sakura, are not.

Now Kakashi is stuck with an extra member on his team and tasked with integrating her back in to regular society as best as he can. He would question the decision to put him, of all people, in charge of someone else’s mental health if he weren’t aware that every team now has at least one or two of these strange new additions to deal with. It’s only been a couple of weeks but Sakura is proving to be incredibly competent in solo combat, though wildly incompetent in several other areas. To be frank, she does play well with others.

It isn’t as though she questions his orders. Sakura has been raised her entire life to follow orders to the letter on pain of death and now that the Hokage himself has declared Kakashi her new minder she has yet to push back against any of his decisions. On the other hand she seems almost to search for ways to be deliberately difficult while still doing as she is asked. If he tells her to watch the target she will – but she will not report their movements, nor will she support her team if they fall under attack. She is used to fighting alone. Defending her teammates appears to be a foreign concept to her.

Sometimes Kakashi wonders who is the more broken, him or her. Is it better to drown in an overload of negative emotions or is it better to have none at all? He might ask her opinion if he thought she could properly comprehend the answer.

Obito’s eye feels too big inside his skull as Kakashi deliberately turns his attention away and pretends to ignore her. It won’t fool her but that isn’t the point.

-

Her mind is surprisingly sharp whenever she manages to actually open her mouth and say something. Kakashi despises it. The sound of her voice is soft and lilting, so completely at odds with her dead expression and brutal competency in a fight.

Even the way she exists rubbed at him the wrong way. She takes up so little physical space with her average height and slim physique and yet she fills every single room she walks in to. Kakashi feels her there without having to use any of his senses. He knows she is in a room before he’s even fully opened a door just by the chill that settles at the base of his spine and the way his jaw instinctively clenches, like the stench of her hatred can somehow reach his nose even before the deceptively floral scent of her hair.

Trying to think with the smell of soft flowers in his nose is becoming increasingly difficult lately.

“Another mission, kids,” he murmurs to the room at large, doing his best not to look directly at her; maybe for once he might be able to hold on to a good mood for a whole entire day. “Pack your things, we leave in an hour.”

While the rest of his team nods politely and turns back to their conversations, Sakura stands from where she has been perched in the corner and moves towards the door. He notices that she is staring directly at him as she walks and he holds his ground just to see if she will ask him to move. His answer comes in the petite shoulder that crashes in to his with the same amount of force a falling house might have.

“Out of my way…taichou.” The pause before her acknowledgement of his authority is what truly irks him and he hates that she already knows what buttons to press.

“You could try saying excuse me,” he says in a deliberately mild tone. When he peeks over his shoulder at her retreating form, she hasn’t even bothered to look back let alone respond to his useless statement. He hates that she knows that will bother him too.

His nose wrinkles under his mask and his teeth gnash together until Tenzou wanders up to pat him consolingly on the shoulder.

“I’m going to live to regret getting myself involved,” his friend mutters, “but if you want my opinion then I think you let her get under your skin a bit too easily. She’s a dick. Get over it. Lots of people are dicks, Kakashi, and one of those people is you.”

“Funny, I don’t remember asking for that opinion,” Kakashi growls but Tenzou only shrugs.

“Well you got it anyway.”

An orphan from infancy, Tenzou grew up in one of the state funded orphanages within Konoha, a member of the ANBU black ops since he turned four and it was discovered he possessed the mokuton through some latent Senju ancestry. He is Kakashi’s closest friend and the one person who isn’t afraid of setting his captain’s head on straight whenever Kakashi gets a big too big for his boots – or when he falls in to one of his maudlin depressions and starts moaning about the world hating him again.

Heading out the door to follow behind their newest teammate, Tenzou looks back at him with his already large eyes wide and falsely innocent. “Are you sure you don’t want to pull her pigtails and call her a stupid head?”

“We’re not children,” Kakashi protests. “Careful or I’ll stick you on second watch every night!”

Just like their other teammate, Tenzou doesn’t so much as grant him the dignity of a response. Kakashi grumbles under his breath about betrayal and mutiny as he goes after both of them.

-

Months pass, missions come and go, and the only constant in Kakashi’s life are the members of his team. Some days he spares a thought to wonder where Itachi is and whether or not he’s doing well. He stamps those thoughts out when he can, not wanting to spare time or energy for a boy who betrayed his own village.

When he isn’t thinking about wayward teammates or the people he’s lost along the path of life, Kakashi’s mind is occupied with Sakura, always Sakura. The pink of her hair is obnoxious the way it draws his eye in battle. He despises how many times now he has accidentally recorded her with his Sharingan rather than pay attention to his own opponent. When he lays in bed at night it takes but a single whim to bring up the smooth rotation of her shoulder as she rears back to punch out a man’s solar plexus, the barest quiver of her thigh muscles as she falls from fifteen feet in the air and lands with perfect balance, even the tiny shape of her fist when it cracks the earth open beneath her.

He isn’t sure why he replays these images again and again. When he’s angry he fancies that he’s studying her movements for possible weaknesses to exploit the day she finally tries to drag his teeth out one by one. Other times he finds himself filled with a strange curiosity and closes his eyes to watch the memories, memorizing them all over again until he finds some new detail he hasn’t bothered to pay attention to before.

That there is always something new about Sakura baffles him. How can there be anything new about her when she is plain and unchanging? Behind the mask of the bear her face never shows more expression that a blank disinterest. Outside of her uniform she dons training blacks, only ever inside headquarters at home. She eats her food slowly, one bite at a time, never adding sauce or garnish of any kind. It drives him up the wall. What he wouldn’t give to see her step out of the perfect mold she fits herself in to just one time, to break away from the expected and do something new.

So how it is that he continuously discovers new details about her? As she shatters a man’s kneecaps Kakashi notes that her toenails are all perfectly filed down to the same length. When she takes first watch and sits with her back to the rest of them he lets his eyes skim over the shape of the muscles in her shoulders, almost startled by how developed they are. Until now he’s thought most of her strength must be augmented by her chakra control and it is an oddly pleasant surprise to see that some of it is simply natural muscle. Why he cares is beyond him and he tears his eyes away before anyone else can note his unnecessary staring.

Five minutes later he tells himself just one more look.

It’s a lie.

-

When she finds him he is suffocating, no lungs to draw air and no heart to pump the blood through his veins. Or, that’s what it feels like at least. The nightmares always feel like this.

Upright on his futon, sheets twisted around his restless body, Kakashi stares with wild eyes at the figure crouched in his window. Sakura doesn’t look particularly interested to know why he sleeps in his kitchen rather than the perfectly serviceable bedroom just down the hall. He’s grateful she doesn’t ask him to explain himself but too distracted to note that it’s the first positive emotion he’s had towards her beyond a creepy amount of curiosity.

“Sandaime-sama wishes to see us both,” she tells him in her usual flat tone. What is unusual is the tilt of her head that takes in the sweat on his face, the rapid thundering of the pulse in his neck, the exposed whites of his eyes and the way he heaves for air like a man drowning.

“Okay,” he gasps. It’s probably the lack of any snarky comment that draws her attention.

“You are unwell. If you are unable to complete the mission–”

“No,” he cuts her off sharply. “I’m fine. I’m not ill.”

Hidden behind a mask as they are, he still feels her eyes boring in to him. “Emotional turmoil,” she notes clinically. “A good shinobi never allows their emotions to overwhelm them.”

“Yeah well a good human being feels them every one in a while so what’s that make you?”

“How hurtful.” The flat delivery of her words might be mistaken for sarcasm if he could bring himself to believe she is capable of such.

Still a bit shaken from the nightmare, Kakashi blurts out his words before his mind can catch up to who this is with him or how little she cares. “I was dreaming about Rin. Sometimes I can still feel the way her heartbeat felt against my wrist and I hate it. It was slippery and warm and I hate it.”

Completely motionless in the windowsill, Sakura observes him in silence until he catches his breath and lives to regret his hasty words.

“Never mind,” he mutters. The sheets rustle loudly in the silence until her words stop him.

“Blood does not wash off of human skin. We are all, each of us, stained from birth. Come. The Hokage awaits us. If you are not ill then you must do your duty.”

Moonlight catches the pink of her hair, like watered down bloody froth falling like silk around her head, and Kakashi can’t help but agree with her. All humans come in to the world covered in blood. It is a shinobi’s fate to never be clean again. He wonders how much blood she has bathed in to come out the other side with hair dyed pink and a heart with nothing left in it.

It isn’t until he has extracted himself from the blanket, dressed, and crept out in to the night that he gives any thought to how out of character it is for her offer such poetic sounding words, words with no practical purpose. Were it anyone else he might think she has tried to comfort him but that’s a silly thought, easily dismissed. She barely cares for her own life, has been trained not to care about those around her. The idea of her taking the time to offer him soothing words to help him calm down is a ridiculous one.

Still, the mission they are sent away on goes more smoothly than any other has before. Kakashi attributes it to their growing knowledge of each other’s style rather than any possibility that he might be getting attached.

-

Watching her take a life is like watching the shinobi equivalent of an intricate dance, a performance he could watch unending and never get bored. Her steps are sure, always perfectly placed, and her body is always where she needs it to be. Her fists make perfect arcs in the air while her back bows to make way for the blades sailing over her head. If only she were more expressive she would make the perfect candidate for undercover work posing as a graceful courtesan.

Even the small bits of other people that cling to her form only serve to make her more of an image captured in time, more than the monster she is, that they all are. Her black gloves are covered in blood, fragments of shattered rib dust through her hair, and there is what looks suspiciously like brain matter draped across the toe of her left boot. She looks like what he imagines a goddess of death might look like, eyes focused and intent without a hint of mercy for those she strikes down. Death, the equalizer of men, who comes for all without discrimination and takes without care for what gets left behind.

He memorizes her for perhaps the hundredth time and then turns back to the woman trying to remove his spleen with a broken naginata, fingers open and bleeding where they grip the blade but fighting onwards despite the pain she must be feeling. If she weren’t his enemy he thinks he might feel sympathy but instead all he feels is her flesh against his own when he slides his hand through her chest, guided by lightning until the ending of her life beats frantically against his wrist as so many others have before.

When it’s over he pushes her corpse away from himself and watches it slump to the ground. Sakura watches him; he can see her from the corner of his still active Sharingan. There’s a tilt to her head that he cannot decipher and the mask she never bothered to unclip from her belt stares at him too with its hollow eyes.

At first he thinks she means to simply stare at him until he moves again but then she speaks and he realizes that his hands are shaking.

“You do not like to use that jutsu,” she states, an observation rather than a question yet he answers just the same.

“No. I don’t.”

“You use it anyway.”

“It’s efficient.”

“Ah.” Her head returns to an upright position and nods once. “That I can understand.”

Kakashi looks from his hands to her, brows pulling together and glad for the double masks that hide the bewilderment plain in his expression. “You were trying to understand me?” he asks incredulously. Her expression does not change but there is something about the way her lids fall half closed, not quite the same narrowed eyed look she gives in irritation but not quite deep thought either.

Confusion, he thinks, and marvels at the novelty of it.

“Is that not what teammates are expected to do – understand one another?”

“Oh, are we teammates now?” Kakashi huffs. The familiarity of their snarky interactions is a comfort. “And here I thought the rest of us were just the nameless canon fodder you had been burdened with by his Hokage-ness.”

“All shinobi all nameless canon fodder,” she replies flatly.

Then she shakes then blood off her gloves and turns to leave while Kakashi gapes after her. “Did you just tell a joke!? Wait, get back here, that’s a serious question! Do you even know how!?”

She keeps walking away and he never gets his answer.

-

Tenzou is somewhere out there in the forest and it’s impossible to tell if the trees are creaking in the wind of the storm or if that is him fighting for his life. Lightning flashes across the sky, illuminating the dark battle ground for a single moment. It’s enough for even Kakashi’s regular eye to memorize the sight of the carnage around him and feel the nausea rise up in the back of his throat. This is his life, he thinks. This is all he is meant for.

He doesn’t want it.

He wants more than this.

He has never deserves more.

Sometimes he wishes he were part of the regular forces, able to go on simple mission with less certainty of death, that he didn’t have to spend every day of his life mired in shadows and nightmares. Right now is one of those times. How much longer will he survive this pace? Eight years is a long time to serve in ANBU but he doesn’t remember how to exist in any other patterns.

His body jolts when Sakura lands on the branch beside him, bringing his attention to her. For the first time since they met he feels jealous of her. The emptiness he had always hated must be incredibly peaceful.

“You feel too much,” she tells him with the air of someone noting the color of fresh painted walls.

“And you feel nothing,” he snaps back. “Must be nice.”

“What I feel is the rain. We should find shelter.”

“Tenzou is still out there!”

“He will find his way to us or he will not. We should still find shelter.”

Kakashi snarls at her. He might be jealous, intrigued, slowly growing attached like a cancerous growth on a host he didn’t even want to infect, but in this moment he hates again. It’s as ugly of a feeling as it always has been. “I will not abandon my friends.”

“I have no friends to abandon. Shelter, taichou.”

“You have comrades!” he explodes. Anger runs hot through his veins, burning away the cold terror that froze him to his perch only moments ago. “We’re a team, damn it! We would never abandon you but you don’t give half a fuck about us, do you? A team is a family and I will not abandon Tenzou. You find shelter if you want, Haruno. I’m going to find my friend.”

He pushes off from the branch and lets his body free fall, raindrops stinging his face until he bunches his legs and kicks off the trunk of another tree. Sakura’s chakra remains stationary behind him for a long enough time that he almost cannot sense her anymore before she finally begins to move.

At first he thinks she had taken his advice to seek shelter on her own. She moves in the same direction as him and he thinks she must be headed towards the caves he just passed.

When she finds him again he is carrying Tenzou’s exhausted body across his back, one leg dragging from the hit he had taken for his friend, soaked through with blood even more so than the rain still coming down in torrents. She says nothing as she relieves him of his burden, only points the way back towards the caves. Kakashi would thank her but instead he passes out for lack of chakra.

He wakes up somewhere dry, rolls over, and marvels that all of his wounds have been healed. Since when do any of them know how to heal? They’re ANBU; all they know is killing.

-

“You lied to the Hokage.”

Kakashi stops walking and sighs. “I didn’t lie. Omitting certain details is not lying. I told him all the information pertinent to the success of our mission.”

“Lying by omission is still a lie.”

“He really doesn’t need to know every single detail of what we do. Should I have told him what we ate for breakfast every day? Which underwear I put on this morning?”

“You believe that I am a danger to your team; you should have told him that.”

“Just because you can’t stand us doesn’t mean I’m giving you an out so easily.” Kakashi finally turns to glare at her over the edge of his cloth mask. “I meant what I said. The rest of us on this team, we don’t abandon our comrades and for better or for worse you are one of our comrades. Whether that means something or nothing to you doesn’t matter to us. We’re going to protect you anyway.”

Sakura stares at him like she doesn’t understand. He wonders if it’s his words or just him that she doesn’t get – or humanity in general.

“I am supposed to say thank you, I suppose.” She sounds unsure. It’s a question, he realizes, and it’s enough to startle him out of the impending hissy fit.

“Not necessary,” he says.

He counts the seconds. It is nearly half a minute before her brilliant green eyes look away from his and she continues walking down the hall, just long enough for him to remember their shade, their shape, the way she blinks, all of playing back inside his mind as he sits in a tree later and pretends to read his book. He wonders if she knows that she is beautiful.

-

Wherever he goes there is a pointed gaze following him, sharp on the back of his neck. Kakashi thinks he would hate it a little more if it were anyone else. But it is only Sakura and he’s pretty used to it at this point. At least now there seems to be some kind of purpose to the scrutiny, something more than just the distrusting gaze of an outsider looking in he had suffered when they first met.

For whatever reason, she seems to have chosen him to mimic in her attempts at pretending to be human. She’s got poor taste but it’s better than the empty shell he’s known her to be so he’s certainly not going to discourage the choice.

They’re posing as bodyguards for Tenzou, who looks extremely uncomfortable in the robes of a well-off textile merchant. Infiltration isn’t usually one of them missions given to their team but the target is high profile and rumored to be very strong. Sakura keeps one eye on Tenzou and one eye on her team captain, mimicking every move he makes. If he shakes hands then so does she; if he remains quiet so does she; when he smiles benignly she attempts to do the same.

It’s the first time Kakashi has ever seen her face move and the muscles of her face are clearly unused to it. Still, the expression suits her more than he expects it to. One of the merchants takes the time to mention so to her and the perplexed way she stares over at Kakashi, questioning how she is meant to respond, is the absolute highlight of his day. Laughing at her reaction is an excellent distraction from the hot flash of jealousy which run through him. He is grateful. Kakashi does not want to be jealous. Jealousy would imply he cares, that he wants, and neither of those things would be ideal directed at someone like Haruno Sakura. He likes to think he’s smarter than that.

Sakura smiles again like she is testing a new weapon and Kakashi looks away. Her teeth are blades slipping past the walls around his heart, finding cracks in the armor he wears to protect his emotions. It’s here and now in a moment so unmomentous that he understands he’s been doomed from the very start.

-

He hates and hates and hates until he loves her, slowly and in small pieces. They are both of them shattered mockeries of humanity and he wants to glue them back together in to a single work of art that only he will find beautiful.

It hurts but so have many other things. As he always does, he forges on.

-

She finds him in the daytime, lounging in a pool of sunlight with nothing better to do than to sit and recover from the wounds of their most recent mission. Kakashi can sense her when she approaches his window without hesitation. He can’t imagine her ever hesitating to do anything.

“You feel too much,” she tells him. He blinks over at the small machine dosing him with morphine and thinks that he doesn’t feel much of anything right now.

“So you’ve told me before,” he mumbles instead.

“Teach me.”

Kakashi stares at her, his head floating in cotton clouds and a dopey smile on his unmasked face. “To what?”

“You express emotion so easily. You feel so easily. Teach me how to do as you do.”

It’s probably the morphine but his attention slides away from her words to focus on the ethereal crown of light around her head, no doubt from the window at her back even if his drug-addled mind starts thinking about angels and death again. If he were a god he would give her a crown made of bones hard like her eyes and weave it through with flowers as soft as her voice.

What comes out of his mouth is hardly an answer to her request.

“I think I’m in love with you,” he whispers. She steps closer, intent.

“I want that,” she tells him. “I want to feel. I want to love. Teach me.”

Kakashi dares to reach out and pull her down until her face is level with his own. When he kisses her she lets him, her lips unmoving against his own but not resisting either. She tastes like the soldier pills they eat on missions to maintain calorie intake.

“Did that feel good?” he asks, eyes closed to savor the images he sees inside his mind, memories he has played back a hundred times and more.

“I don’t know,” she tells him honestly. “Will this teach me how to feel?”

“Maybe, maybe not. How about this: let me love you. You like to learn by example, don’t you?”

“Will you kiss me again?” There is honest to god curiosity in her voice and Kakashi shivers in the warm sunshine, opening his eyes at last to see the way her eyes look at him as though he is the only thing in the room.

Smiling again, he asks, “Do you want me to?”

“Yes. I think so.”

-

It takes the better part of an hour to teach her how to kiss.

It takes the better part of a year until she smiles at him quietly of her own volition when she thinks he cannot see her.

It takes the better part of his humanity away when he is relieved of his duties as an ANBU agent, forced in to training a team of the next generation. To leave her behind feels like leaving behind his soul.

She follows. And that is the moment when Kakashi realizes that she loves him too, though it takes the better part of three more years before she finds the words to say so.

[sebeth]

Young Justice: Independence Day, Fireworks, and Stopover

Warning, Spoilers Ahead…

 My goal is to re-watch the Young Justice series and re-read the comics before the January 4th launch of Young Justice: Outsiders.  Let’s begin.

Episode 1: “Independence Day”

July 4th: We begin, appropriately enough, on the United States’ Independence Day.  The title will have multiple meanings by the end of the first two episodes:  the kids’ semi-independence from their mentors and Superboy’s freedom from the Cadmus Project.

Do cold villains hate the Fourth of July?

Dick is the only Robin who would have laughter as a trademark.

“Juniors doing this for attention?” – One of my favorite parts of this series is the depth of knowledge for the characters of the DC Universe – even the obscure ones.  The current Icicle is a “junior” – his father was the original Icicle of the Golden Age era.  As a huge fan of the B through D list characters, I have a huge appreciation for anyone who remembers the small details.

Kaldur was an interesting choice as he was a new but fairly obscure character when Young Justice debuted. Garth would have been the more logical choice as he was a founding member of the Titans along with Dick, Roy, and Wally.

I admit I wondered why the series was called Young Justice because all I was seeing were the founding members of the Titans at this point (minus Garth and Donna).

“You’ll chat it up with the cops, the bystanders, with Cold even.” – One sentence reveals so much of Barry’s personality.

“I knew we’d be the last ones here.” – Again, a Barry trait.

“Speedy is Green Arrow’s sidekick.” “Well, that makes no sense.” – Accurate.

“Why isn’t anyone just whelmed?” – Dick’s mangling of the English language begins.

“02” – The assigned numbers correspond with the members joining the team.  The way to my heart is the small details.

Roy has a huge hissy even by his impatient, hot-headed nature.  We discover the reason later in the series.

“We could make an exception.” – Really, the Justice League wouldn’t allow their proteges on the Watchtower? Why?

Zatara and Wotan! Yay, obscure characters for the win!

“Glad you didn’t bring you know who?” Foreshadowing!

The boys invade Cadmus in all its glory: Guardian, G-Nomes, Genomorphs, Dubbilex, and, of course, Superboy.

“Dr. Desmond” is a hint for his upcoming transformation. The “Blockbuster” label confirms it.

Wally is a science nerd. Makes sense with Barry as a mentor.

“File KR” – another hint.

“Sub-level 52”. – DC does love its 52.

Superboy!  Looking more like the Teen Titans-era version than the early, scrawny, fresh out of the pod version.

Hack! – Tim is typically the Robin most associated with computers.  To be fair, the Internet was pretty much non-existent when Dick and Jason were Robin.

Superboy, unsurprisingly, curb-stomps the team.

 Episode 2: “Fireworks”

First appearance of the Light aka the Cadmus Board of Directors.            

“Clone them.” – We later discover that one sidekick has already been cloned.

Dubbilex, the sneaky traitor, awakens the boys.

“Project: Sidekick” – Desmond is so imaginative when it comes to naming projects.

“He can talk.”

“Yes, he can.”

“Not like I said it.

Wally, listen to Dick and Kaldur and keep your mouth shut.

Kaldur is clearly the wisest of the original group.

“Batcave’s crowded enough.” – Well, it’s been said three is a crowd.

“What would Superman do?” – Everyone should apply this standard to their decisions.

“Don’t you give me orders either.” – I can see why it would be a sensitive issue – his whole life (all 16 weeks) has been controlled by others.

“You can leap tall buildings in a single bound.  Still cool.” – Sweet Wally being supportive.

“Don’t apologize. This is perfect.” – That’s how you know Dick was raised by the Batman.

“I finally have room to move.” – Yeah, speed is more useful when you have to space to run.

“Grab something from Project Blockbuster.” – If you were familiar with the villain, you knew what was about to happen.

“The Genomorph hero.” – Unfortunately, this bit wasn’t followed up on.

“Everyone back.” – Protective Guardian for the win.  Sadly, he’s outmatched by Blockbuster.

“Got your nose.” – Gross!

“You incredible bulk.” – Shout out to the competition.

Oh, look at protective Superboy and Aqualad covering their more delicate teammates.

The League arrives with Superman taking point.

Not loving Hawkgirl/woman’s costume.

Poor Kal breaks Superboy’s heart.  Bad Kal!  I understand Clark’s upset and confusion but don’t take it out on the newborn child.

“All 52 levels.” – Again, DC loves the 52.

“Why let them tell us what to do.  It’s simple.  Get on board or get out of the way.” – Superboy declares the true mission statement of Young Justice.

Red Tornado as team supervisor is a nod to the comic book version of Young Justice.

I did like the addition of Black Canary as team trainer.  It’s a nice nod to Dinah’s combat skills which Gail Simone spent most of the 2000s building up.

“This is the Martian Manhunter’s niece.” – Another surprise choice as Miss Martian wasn’t very well known in the comics.  Never will a character start out so cute and then devolve into creepiness.

M’gann’s obsession with Superboy begins immediately.  We’ll discover why later in the season.

 Young Justice #1: Stopover

The issue begins immediately after Superboy declares “Get on board or get out of the way.”

“Give me three days” Batman responds.

The group then realizes Superboy has nowhere to go in the meantime.

Kid Flash brings Superboy to Central City.  Wally explains the situation to his parents.  There is a cute moment when Mrs. West corrects Wally’s grammar: “Robin, Aqualad, and I…”

Superboy interjects with a “You weren’t there.”

Cadmus clearly didn’t instruct Superboy in conversation nuances.

Mrs. West informs Wally that he “leads a very strange life.  But we’re use to it. Largely.”

Wally’s parents are way more understanding and supportive than they are in the main DC Universe.

Wally’s parents ask Superboy’s name.  Wally responds “I call him Supey.  I think he likes it.” Conner doesn’t look like he likes it.

We stop in on Kaldur and Arthur’s return journey to Atlantis.

Kaldur: “We meant no disrespect.”

Arthur: “I would not be much of a king if I did not allow my subjects freedom of expression. Especially when their words carry such wisdom.”

Somewhere, Garth is wondering why he never had this type of relationship with Arthur.

Conner wonders “Think Superman knows I’m here?”

Wally awkwardly reassures Conner that Superman knows he’s in Central City.

Wally awakens the next day to find Conner sleeping upright in his closet. Conner informs Wally that he is not “used to sleeping in a bed.  Your closet reminded me of my Cadmus pod.  Except for the funny smells.”

Poor Conner.  A bed shouldn’t be a foreign concept.

The boys spend the day vegging in front of the tv.  Conner is very bored.  Each panel has Wally eating something different: a bag of chips, pizza, and a bucket of fried chicken.

Nice nod to Wally’s metabolism.

Late in the day a card arrives with a credit cart addressed to Wally “for expenses.”

Superboy wonders if it’s from Superman.

Wally vaguely confirms it’s from Superman with a “who else could it be from” even though he’s clearly aware it was sent by Batman.

Wally is so sweet – he keeps trying to reassure that, of course, Superman would care about Conner’s location and well-being.

Batman is also a very sweet Bat-Dad this issue.  Bruce would deny it but he was consistently sweet and supportive to Conner in the first season.  None of the other Leaguers thought Conner would need money to buy basic essentials like clothes.  Or that the middle-class Wests would need financial support to care for Superboy.  Wally’s appetite alone has to put a serious dent in their income.

If Wally hadn’t offered, I’m positive Bruce would have taken Conner back to the Batcave.  If for no other reason than Alfred wouldn’t have been thrilled with the idea of an underage child being left alone.  Batman would have also thought of the risks of leaving Conner on his own – Cadmus operatives could have tried to regain custody of a lone Superboy.

The boys head to the mall to shop for clothes.  A nice easter egg is the name of the store the boys enter: “Forever Sixteen”. Conner was genetically locked in that age for some time in the comics.

Conner buys multiple copies of the same black shirt.  Not someone who’s big on fashion.

We bop over to Gotham where Dick is impatiently wondering what Bruce is doing in the Batcave – it’s been almost two and a half days!

Alfred patiently reminds Dick that when one says three days, one means three days.

Poor Alfred has the patience of a saint.  Imagine what the poor man endures on a daily basis: Bruce in all his glory; hyper, energetic Dick, Jason’s explosiveness, Damian’s demanding arrogance, and Stephanie’s boisterousness.  Tim, Cassie, and Duke are the quieter children. They don’t cause Alfred as much fuss.

Back to the mall where Wally and Conner encounter Tommy and Tuppence, the Terror Twins – the same twins that Conner and M’gann impersonate at Belle Reve.

Flash and Superman arrive on the scene of the fight.  Conner mutters a single “Superman” before Clark flees from the scene.  To be fair, he was pursuing the Terror Twins but he couldn’t even offer a “hi” before he left?

Flash tells the boys to go home.  Barry will pick the boys up in the morning because “Batman has made his decision”.

Honestly, Batman made his decision as soon as he told the kids “three days”. Bruce simply needed the three days to implement his plan.

Conner asks Wally if “Superman will be there tomorrow”. Wall responds “Uh, sure, you know…if there’s no emergency somewhere.”

Conner’s downcast face shows he doesn’t believe Wally’s statement.

Conner asks Wally “Why’d you invite me to stay with you?”

“Well, un, Aqualad lives underwater.  And the Batcaves’s kind of a big secret. So I figured it’d be cool for us to hang.”

Conner smiles after Wally’s statement.

Wally is so sweet and supportive in this issue.  It also shows that Wally is very trusting.  He is inviting Superboy into his home with his civilian parents – and he knows how easily Conner curbstomped the entire team.  But Wally knows Conner is one of the good guys and doesn’t even hesitate to bring him to Central City.

The issue ends with the final moments of the second episode.

[statierogers]

The new recruit - Bucky Barnes (Part 1)

Title: The New Recruit (Part1)

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: It’s Bucky’s new job to train (Y/N). They just really, really don’t like each other.

Words: 3’532

Warnings: Language

Genre: I don’t know. not really angsty nor really fluffy. Maybe something in between.

A/N: I went very overboard. So I put it into two parts.

My Masterlist

Your name: submit What is this?

(Y/N) - your first name

(Y/L/N) - your last name

- Katie xx

Part 2

"Okay, so her name is (Y/N)," Steve spoke and pointed at the file he had thrown o the coffee table, "and she is enhanced."

The Avengers, except Thor and Peter, sat spread out on the living room couches. Some on chairs, some on the floor and some occupied the two sofas. They usually held briefings in the meeting room, but they all had a long week behind them, so no one was in the mood for uncomfortable office chairs.

"You know we have met her before. She started her training two weeks ago," Clint said and chewed one of the Gummy Worms Sam brought by.

Most of the team nodded at his statement. Well, not Tony; he was typing away on his phone.

"She was at your birthday party last week," Natasha added and tried grabbing some of the sweets, but Sam knocked her hands away.

Steve rolled his eyes at his teammates. Having a serious meeting was impossible. They were acting like children. It already took him 2 days to find a day where everyone was available. He liked to include and ask the whole team for his pledge because he knew half of them would pretend o be busy and not do him this favour. And he could do what he really didn't want to do and choose Bucky for this task. He had the hunch that it was going to end like this. The rest of the team tended to not engage in the extra activity. It's weird how lazy a budge of superheroes could be when it wasn't about Thanos Level threats. Well, except for Peter, but he had no say in this or anything for that matter. He was still in training, and Steve had his hands full with that one. Also because Tony had taken him under his wing and kept on updating his suit. The kid loved trying out the new technologies. Peter was also in school at the moment. Which was more important. Oh, and Thor. He was somewhere. Well, he probably making decisions as a king or beating up some otherworldly being.

"Okay... yea, anyways. Well, I started training (Y/N), and she isn't really good at hand to hand combat," he explained, and now Steve also felt the sudden urge to grab a Gummy Wurm.

Sam gave him a look. Apparently, Falcon didn't enjoy people taking his food. Steve took his hand back slowly and gave him an apologetic look. In the end, it was Sam's own fault to bring his precious snacks to a room full of those guys.

"And what exactly is your question?" Tony, who finally put his phone away, asked.

Steve sighed and rubbed a hand over his face. He stole an unsure glance at Bucky, who just sat on a chair with crossed arms. His face was a gruff mask. He stared at the picture of the young woman. Her smile seemed to be mocking Bucky, and he didn't like it. He didn't like her. Well, no, he did, but there was something about her that he hated. She got under his skin. She was just so reckless, sassy and straight up made stupid decisions all the time. But then she could just stand there looking so beautiful, being so funny and say something brilliant. And he hated that. He hated that he liked her and that she seemed to be the only woman that didn't put up with his shit.

"I need some help. I just can't get through to her," Steve sighed.

You could see in his friend's faces that they were looking for a way out. Their brains working for an excuse.

"And why do you need all of us here for that? The only people who seem to be able to help are Romanov, Clint and Icicle over there, and maybe Sam," Tony added. 

He nodded to the grumpy soldier, who just narrowed his eyes at him. Steve ignored them and looked with hopeful eyes to the two Ex SHIELD agents.

"Don't look at me. You know I can't get through to her either," Clint held up his hands in defence.

Steve sighed. Wanda furrowed her brows and looked between the guys, not wholly understanding their issue with (Y/N).

"Why exactly can't you get through to her?" Wanda wanted to know and made it quotes at the word through.

Steve blushed and looked at the floor. He hated admitting it, but she was just so adorable, he couldn't go hard on her. She just gave him one of those smiles, which she used to charm everyone's pants off, and he wouldn't be able to even near his fist her face. He knew she manipulated him so she could get out of training.

"She has those two guys wrapped around her pinky," Natasha smiled.

Clint narrowed his eyes at the redhead. Natasha knew all along. She had observed the men around her. All falling for the girl's coy act. Clint seemed like he was about to adopt her, and Steve looked at her like she was the most innocent woman ever. That girl was good at manipulating men. If she wanted to.

"Then you train her," Clint said and bumped her shoulder.

Natasha shook her head apologetically.

"I am knee-deep in Wanda's combat training," She shrugged her shoulders.

The women shared a look. Wanda didn't need to see into Natashas head to find out how she wanted this to play out. With Bucky training her. Vision tilted his head to the side. He seemed to have calculated something.

"It appears there is only one solution. It seems like most of us aren't really trained in this combat mode, except for James," Vision pitched in.

Bucky raised his head by the mention of his name. His posture suddenly turned stiff. He shook his head.

"No," he stated.

"Buck...," Steve started and reached his hand out in a comforting gesture.

He was interrupted by Bucky getting out of his chair. The usually so calm soldier seemed unsure now.  

"No, not going to happen," he added and pointed at Steve accusingly.

"But, it would help her. You are the only person that can get through to her," Steve said and jumped up as well.

What did that even mean? She was just a girl. Steve made a soothing gesture in his direction. The rest of the team watched them, intrigued. But they knew, they knew Bucky was irritated by (Y/N). It was no secret. Not even to her. She just enjoyed disagreeing with him. 

A humourless laugh left Bucky's lips, and he shook his head in disbelief. He didn't want to believe that Steve would suggest or even agree with this idea. 

"Are we talking about the same woman? She disagrees with me constantly," he said and pointed between himself and Steve.

Steve now also shook his head. That wasn't completely true, and Bucky knew it. 

"Are you sure? Every time she suggests something, you disagree with her," Sam added.

Sam was on her side, always. Also, because he and Bucky didn't agree on things either. They enjoyed bickering, but it was different. He knew Sam would have his back and that they were actual friends. With (Y/N), he was really not sure if she would just stab him if she got annoyed by him. Bucky opened his mouth and closed it again. There was no point in denying what Sam said, though. 

"That is because her ideas are stupid," he argued then anyways.

Steve was tired of this. Obviously, he knew that it would end in this argument. But Bucky ran away from her whenever he could. He knew that deep down, Bucky liked her. He just wasn't used to being challenged by a woman. She knew what she wanted, and she was headstrong, and Bucky hadn't met a lot of ladies like that. And maybe knowing her and exchanging more than those arguments with her would help him. 

"Do it for me, Bucky. She needs help. I can't do it. And she promised she would listen to you," Steve asked.

She never promised such a thing, but Steve hoped he would forget about that statement tomorrow. His resentment crumbled. Bucky needed some pushing. 

"Fine, I'll do it," he barked. 

Without another word, he stomped out of the room. The team's eyes followed his angry steps. 

"Seriously, that was easier than I thought," Tony said with a short nod.

Steve wouldn't say this was easy. He would hear Bucky complain for at least a month. 

"Steve, do you think this is a good idea? Letting those two train together?" Natasha asked him.

Steve crossed his arms defensively. No, he wasn't, not at all. He wasn't sure what the deal between those two was. They had only known each other for two weeks, but they didn't seem to like one another from day one. 

"No. But I didn't see you volunteer," he answered.

Natasha laughed and got off the chair elegantly. She didn't take Steve's defensiveness serious. To other people, he probably looked intimidating, but not to the Black Widow.

"Bucky is a freaking Drill Sargent, and you know it. And (Y/N) is just really stubborn. And lazy. A perfect combination," she mentioned and patted Steves' shoulder.

Sam tried to hide a laugh. Okay, she wasn't the only one who noticed.

"It's going to be fine," Steve said, his voice steady. 

But his face didn't seem so sure anymore. 

—

(Y/N) was ripped out of her sleep by someone pulling her blanket off.

"Get up, sleepyhead," a stern male voice said at the foot of her bed.

(Y/N) opened her eyes and was faced with a grumpy Bucky staring at her. The usually messy hair was tied to a bun at the nape of his neck. If it weren't this early, she would have stared at him and soaked in his attractive physic. She did that a lot. Stare at him. It's like her brain didn't want to, but her body had a mind of her own. Her eyes always travelled to him when he was in a room with her.

"Are you kidding? What time is it?" she mumbled, rubbing her eyes.

Her head moved around, trying to spot her phone to look at the time.

"It's six a.m. You are already thirty minutes late," Bucky stated and stepped to her closet. 

"What are you talking about?" she asked and grabbed her phone from the nightstand.

It's not like she didn't trust him, but she needed to see the time herself. She spotted five texts and one call from Bucky. All of them urged her to get up or asked her where the hell she was. Stalker much? Where did he even get her number? 

"I told you yesterday, the morning run starts at 5.30 a.m., and then we train," he said.

She dropped her phone on the bed with frustration and turned to him. 

"I thought that was a joke," she whispered and then added with a louder voice, "what the hell are you doing?"

Bucky had opened her closet and started searching for something. How rude. Her underwear was in there.

"Looking for your training clothes," he said.

She frowned. Okay, Bucky was acting weird.

"I can dress on my own," she mumbled. 

Bucky turned around suddenly. He seemed to have found what he wanted and dropped it on her bed. Yoga pants, Tank top and running shoes. (Y/N) sat up and stared at him.

"Are you sure? Just as good as you can be on time?" he asked sarcastically. 

She wanted to slap that grin off his face. He always grinned at her like that. It seemed to be reserved for her. Bucky just liked being a pain in her ass.

"This isn't the freaking army, Barnes," she growled and stared at the pile.

It felt like she hadn't seen workout clothes in years. She didn't enjoy working out. This was weird for someone who wanted to become an Avenger. She knew she had to give her everything so they would take her fully into the team. 

"Doll, if this were the army, you would be calling me Sargent Barnes," he said with a cheeky smile.

Then he turned around to the door. (Y/N) hated how much swagger he had in his step.

"Five minutes," he added.

(Y/N) grabbed the shoe on the bed and threw it. But it only hit the door and not his head.

"Well, screw you, Sargent Barnes," she yelled.

Then she fell back on the bed and let out a frustrated groan. She was sure she heard a male laugh through the door.

Natasha told her that this would be exhausting. Being trained by Bucky. He would go hard on her. She said something about the military background and Hydra training. But these were the Avengers. She didn't even understand why she needed this training. She had powers. She could adapt abilities by touching. If she touched Steve, she was just as strong as him. When (Y/N) touched Spidy, she could crawl walls and so on. She just couldn't fight. She never inherits their skills.

—

"I hate you," she said to him about the 50th time today.

Her back landed on the matt again. And she was surprised it wasn't broken yet. 

"Your endurance as well as your upper body strength suck," he lectured her.

Bucky ignored her statement about hating him. She had mumbled it under her breath so many times he didn't feel the need to acknowledge it. (Y/N) huffed and stared at him reproachfully. Even now, she looked beautiful. Propped up on her elbows, covered in sweat with furrowed brows. She was pissed. At least she acted like it. She seemed to be angrier at herself for not getting it than at him. She did mess up a lot of the instructions he gave her. But she had potential. 

"If you let me use my powers, it wouldn't be this bad. I would get your super serum strength," (Y/N) mumbled and rubbed a hand over her face.

Bucky laughed and stretched a hand out to help her up. It was the gentleman in him. Something he never got entirely rid of over the years. He wasn't going soft on her, but he still had basic manners, like holding open the door and helping a woman up.

"Steve let you use your powers, didn't he?" Bucky asked her.

(Y/N) sighed and stretched her limps.

"He did, but it was easier. Because he is fucking strong. How am I supposed to beat someone like you?" she growled.

"Natasha does it every day," he pointed out.

(Y/N) stopped rubbing her sore neck and rolled her eyes.

"Yea, I know she is good at everything. Stupid perfect woman," she said.

Bucky knew what she was trying to do. It was not gonna work with him. She tried getting his reassurance. She was trying it for about the fifth time today. To get his sympathy. He only understood now what Steve meant. He was close to giving in. She gave him one of her innocent smiles, and if he didn't know what she was doing, he would have dropped everything then and there. 

"Doll, not gonna work. I'm not Steve. I won't let you use powers or get out of training," he said with a cheeky smile and raised brows.

(Y/N) dropped her head. She swore under her breath. Good, that girl swore like a pirate. And he found it slightly endearing.

"Screw you," she said, "Sargent Barnes."

She placed her hands on her hips and huffed.

"In position," he laughed, "Recruit."

---

"No, she can't. She isn't ready yet. She wouldn't last five minutes in the field," Bucky said and puffed his chest out. 

This was new for (Y/N) to see Bucky was always the one making himself smaller than he was. He didn't want to be seen. Or to seem less dangerous. But not now. He stood next to her chair with his legs firmly placed and his Arms crossed. Not with his hips jolted out. She had noticed the difference between Bucky Barnes and Sargent James Buchanan Barnes. She liked Bucky better.

"Are you sure? I need another asset," Steve said and looked between her and Bucky.

(Y/N) seemed furious. Bucky didn't believe she was ready for the mission. And he told Steve, in front of everyone. She felt embarrassed and humiliated. 

"Yes, she isn't good enough yet," Bucky then said.

Or Sargent Bucky. She looked up at him. He only spared her a glance. She thought to see something that resembles regret. But then he looked away. So she let her eyes travel over the Avengers. All of them looked at her with pity. Without another word, she got up from her chair. She didn't feel the need to argue. Because the worst part was Bucky was right. It had been two months, and she still didn't learn it. Her head was held high as she stepped past the soldier and out of the door. She needed a drink.

"(Y/N)," Bucky yelled behind her.

He must have noticed that she was upset, but she continued walking. She didn't wanna see his face right now. She would punch it most likely.

"Wait," Bucky then said and grabbed her hand.

 He had caught her just when she stepped foot into the kitchen. He grabbed her wrist to stop her. (Y/N) Spun around to the brunette man. If her look could kill someone, he would be dead. Very dead. 

"Look, we'll train more. And then you can go on missions. I promise you. I just don't want you to go out there unprepared. Something could happen," Bucky tried to explain.

"I can do it. Why do I need this training? I could just get Wanda's power and use it in the field," she yelled.

Her eyes were fixed on his hand gripping her wrist. It was his metal arm; she was never bothered by it. She actually liked when it touched her while training. It cooled her down.

"You don't get it. What if you are in the field and none of us is near. I know the power manipulation doesn't hold for long. What if you are somewhere with no superpowered human? You are useless," he grunted.

He hated her stubbornness. Why couldn't she just listen like Steve promised him she would. Training her was exhausting because she didn't want to train. If she would actually put effort into it, she would be better. 

(Y/N) gave him a look, and a sudden urge overtook her. She wanted to show him that she could beat him. She wasn't useless. She had survived without his help for so long, so she didn't need him now.  

"Oh yeah?" she asked, and with that, she stretched out her other hand and touched his forehead.

Her skin touched his, and he felt a sudden rush go through him. Like something was pulling on him. And it wasn't because he touched her. Before he could register what she was doing, she had turned her hand so that she was gripping his arm, spun around and flipped him over her shoulder. Bucky landed on his back next to one of the kitchen chairs. Her left boot on his chest. She gave him defining smile. She had stolen his power. Well, he still had it, but they were equal now. His mouth opened slightly and closed again. What just happened? 

"Sorry? What was that about being useless?" she asked teasingly. 

Okay, if she was going to play it like that. Without warning, he kicked his foot against her other leg. She lost her balance, and Bucky rolled out from under her left foot. He jumped to his feet and stood opposite of her. They stared at each other. Both of them were in a defensive position. He couldn't help but notice that it looked exactly how he taught her. Not bad.

"Oh, Doll. You really wanna do this?" he asked her with a small smile. 

(Y/N) Didn't feel the need to answer. She just stormed in his direction and threw a fist at him. He caught it midair and held it in his palm. And he felt the force she used to hit him. That was his strength in her. He spun her around. The girls back was pressed against his chest. He had one arm pinned to her chest and the other around her neck, where he applied light pressure. He could smell her perfume and feel her rapid breathing. 

"You would be dead just about now," he mumbled into her ear. 

"Not so much," she grunted and stomped her heel to his foot. Bucky let her go in shock.

Bucky realised now this was different. This wasn't like training. They were fighting, and she was intent on winning. (Y/N) spun around, and then she grabbed a vase and threw it at him. He ducked it in shock while it shattered against the white wall behind him. She was angry. This wasn't fun for her. Bucky felt bad for a split second, then he remembered that none of this was his fault. Slowly he got up from his position. He studied her face. (Y/N)'s eyes looked more like slits and not as bright as usual.

"Have I  ever told you how insane you are?" he mumbled.

She huffed out air from her nose. They stared at each other for another second before both of them fully charged at each other. 

--

"Au," (Y/N) moaned while Bruce stitched up the cut on her forehead. 

He wasn't feeling sorry for her, that much she could see. She sat at one of the barstools. The one that was still standing. With a bruised lip and a cut on her forehead. But she still had Bucky's ability, so she did already feel it healing. Bucky sat on another chair where Tony was fixing his metal arm, where she rammed a knife into. It had gotten out of hand really fast. Some of the decor in the room was broken, while Bucky and (Y/N) were both hurt. And (Y/N) felt like a madwoman. She wasn't sure what came over her. She was just so angry, and Bucky being Bucky made it worse. And now, she felt ashamed. She needed to apologise to Bucky, and she hated that.

"Normal people just have sex to blow off their steam, but you try to kill each other," Sam said as he cleaned up some shards. 

"We didn't try to kill each other," (Y/N) mumbled, her eyes cast down.

She hissed when Bruce knotted the thread. Great, that would scar. She didn't dare to look at the former Winter Soldier. But she heard Tony's tool shut off.

"You two need to clean this and get this issue between you out of the way," Tony said, pointing at them.

The rest of the Avengers left the room quietly. (Y/N) gave Bucky a shy look. He seemed just as embarrassed as her. So she decided to start. 

"I'm sorry," she mumbled, just as Bucky said the same.

Bucky looked up at her. He studied her face for a second before he got up and took a careful step closer. Only now (Y/N) noticed that she could hear his heartbeat, courtesy of his own power. It was steady and slow. 

"Look, I know you are frustrated that you can't go on missions yet. I am not refusing it because I want to hurt you, quite the opposite, actually. I don't want you to go out there and hurt yourself. I want you to be ready and be able to take care of yourself," he explained slowly. 

(Y/N) stopped playing with her fingers and raised her head with a sigh. She hopped off the chair and met Bucky in the middle.

"I know," she said, "I am sorry I threw a plate at you."

Bucky laughed, and it was like music to her ears. This wasn't new. She always enjoyed his laugh. 

"You know, sometimes I wonder why we fight so much," he then said.

(Y/N) joined his laugh and decided to just be helpful for a second. She grabbed a broom and continued sweeping.

"I think it is actually because we are very alike," she told him and shrugged. 

Bucky shook his head at her and started placing the chairs upright. He couldn't believe what she was saying. (Y/N) was very different from him. She was pure. As stupid as it sounded, she was. Her heart was good, and she loved people with all her heart. She lived in the sun, while Bucky was a man with a dark past and a jumbled memory.

"No, we disagree constantly," he said.

(Y/N) was about to be annoyed with him, but then she saw his wink and knew he was joking. And then she laughed. This was weird. Bucky and her joking. 

"Funny," she commented.

"I can be fun if I want to," he said with a cheeky smile. 

(Y/N) shook her head over the man's behaviour. And even if she didn't want it to, a genuine smile slipped on her lips. She watched him for a second. Maybe she and Bucky could have fun as well and not just fight. 

"Are you staring at me?" Bucky suddenly asked her and lifted his head.

She tried covering her blush, but not so lucky. 

"Uhm, no... Just continue cleaning," she mumbled and concentrated on her sweeping.

[energyswordsunday]

vyre* anatomy & physiology: a big headcanon post

hey ho runescapers, it’s me, crowles, here again with a massive autism rant because i have too many headcanons piled up now, and far many more vyre ocs

k so lets dig in!

(* vyre = trueborn vampyre from vampyrium. i’m only talking about their natural form here, i can touch on human form/mist in the future!)

first things first - facial features! arguably pretty important. you can tell a lot about what an animal is good at by examining their face (and their body). so here we have a ref i drew up in like 2 minutes, and basically, what im getting at here is this:

vyres are nocturnal.

their eyes are specialized for this lifestyle and their method of hunting - i based them off owl eyes here a bit.

animals with night-vision (which vyres definitely have, if they’re nocturnal hunters) tend to have larger eyes with pupils that dilate heavily. some will also have a tapetum lucidum, which is a layer of reflective tissue behind the retina that will reflect visible light back through the retina, enhancing night vision. it can cause some difficulties with bright light, though, so take with that what you will. it’s also what makes cat eyes/dog eyes/other animal eyes shiny at night/in pictures.

they also possess a nictitating membrane. this is a third transparent or translucent eyelid that moves horizontally or diagonally across the eye, and is usually drawn for protection/to keep in moisture while keeping vision intact. animals will also sometimes draw the eyelid when falling asleep, which looks kind of funny imho.

their eye colors vary from vyre to vyre but tend to stay in the warm range of hues. same can be said of their skin tones.

their ears are modelled after bat ears obv, with a bit of cat ears thrown in. ears can be moved similar to how a cat will move theirs to tune into sound better/express emotion, etc.

structure of ear is designed to trap sound better. this = superior hearing, but also means they can be sensitive to even the quietest of sounds. not that that stops them from screaming and hissing at one another lol.

they have sensory organs on both sides of their nose called thermoreceptors. these help them to sense heat/infrared radiation, and allows them to quickly and efficiently find areas in prey where the blood flows closest to the skin. 

these thermoreceptors are actually real things that exist on vampire bats! they’re similar to the heat pits on snakes, but operate differently. there is a specific part of their brain that responds to these signals, in the same area where snakes have theirs for their heat pits.

noses are mostly on the larger side for increased sense of smell.

this allows vyres to draw in more air across the olfactory epithelium, giving them a much wider range of input samples for the olfactory receptors to detect. their brains also tend to be larger due to this developed sense of smell, and they have a sizable olfactory bulb compared to humans.

as for their mouths, pretty predictable i know but hear me out. their teeth are again modelled after vampire bats, which means that their canines and incisors are most prominent and their teeth towards the back are much smaller.

canines and incisors are very sharp for quick and easy cutting, making feeding easy and efficient with little mess. 

due to their size though they also kind of protrude and give some vyres an overbite ahah. the tighter the jaw is clenched, the more they protrude, basically.

high cheekbones with little fat on the face is normal... foreheads & top of head will tend to be larger to accommodate for brain size (i mean cmon they’ve got mindreading capabilities) 

i gave them eyebrows because they just look weird at this point without them. eyebrows evolutionarily of course are to keep dirt and debris out of the eyes.

additionally, their skin tends to be firm, almost leathery with age. their scalp often is darker to keep heat from escaping. some vyres will have similar spots on their face, and many have them on other extremities, like their hands, fingers, feet, toes, and some cases even their forearms and shins up to their shoulders or hips. 

also they have claws like no duh. they’re non-retractable but grow like toenails and will be filed for sharpness.

on to sexual dimorphism! yay!

“females!”

typically these will be your hunters.

usually the most aggressive and domineering of the species. 

thinner and more compact for speed & aerodynamics.

still packed with muscle, though - their legs are the most physically strong part of their body usually, due to the amount of running and launching required of them.

a kick from a ‘female’ vyre could probably knock an average human down without any trouble.

they also have much stronger jaw grips than their counterparts, and the force of their bite is much much higher.

they tend to have the larger ears of the species since they have mostly been hunters throughout vyre history.

their wing spans are much larger than their counterparts. this allows them quicker, longer, and easier flight. 

will develop fuzz and hairs like their counterparts, but most of it is concentrated on the head/neck area and will become more dense rather than long.

no breasts. vyre mothers will feed their young off of their own blood for their first few years of life. (this is because it is believed that the hunter gets the best nutritional value out of her kills and will end up being the healthiest of the family. vyres believe it is best to start young off with healthy, balanced blood of their own before having them make their own diets.)

vyre society was traditionally matriarchal until the takeover of drakan. females would often stay with their birth clan and males would leave to find their own families. the only males left in the clan would be “resident” males that the females would take on as partners. 

“males!”

traditionally thought of as warriors or breeders.

ear and wing size are more average-sized.

their wings have spikes like the females, but unlike theirs, they will grow to be more prominent and ‘showy.’ healthy wing-spikes that are sharpened and shiny are considered to be attractive in a male. 

will also grow fuzz/hair once they reach adulthood, but will tend to have thinner, finer growth that they will tend to. they grow this hair long and keep it well-groomed to show status/health. a male with longer, decorated, healthy hair is considered more attractive than a male without.

they are usually stockier with their muscle mass concentrated to their upper body. this makes them fearsome in close combat, making them a valuable asset to vyre families, but they also are slower and not as nimble as their counterparts. 

they are much heavier. theyre not as easy to topple or throw off-balance, but lack the extremely high endurance that their counterparts have, making them easy to take down in flight and over long distances.

will usually take up occupational roles in modern society, like guard duties,  stock-tending, herding, etc, while the mother executes the clan method-of-choice for slaughter/hunting and provides for the family. 

and okay yeah thats about it for now.  obviously there’s more than two genders in nature, and i have no doubt there are other vyres that don’t fit neatly into these roles/there are other recognized roles, these are just two of them and the ones that end up becoming the more “accepted” roles by zarosian society. for obvious reasons. :’) !!!

(feel free to add ideas if you want but please be mindful of phrasing if you do, i must stress that these are pretty much fact to myself and i’m sharing them as an autistic person, you dont have to think theyre fact i dont expect you to, so if you have ideas by all means share!!!! just please dont be like “THIS IS HOW IT IS” i might get upset. i love ideas! i just dont like feeling invalidated!!! even if its on accident aaahh)

[saikostories]

GOT7 - I Can’t Lose You (Jackson)

People had often said to you that high-school would be the best years of your life; years that you would spend making close bonds and friendships while studying hard in order to achieve good grades before eventually going on to attend university. But like many things in life, this was far easier said than done. To put it simply; you quickly found out that high-school was not how they made it out to be in dramas. Teachers were rude and didn’t care if you were struggling, and the students were even worse – bullying was a big problem at the particular high-school you attended, and the teachers did little to combat it, thus resulting in the weaker kids getting abused by their tormentors on a daily basis. Fortunately, every day was a little more bearable; thanks to your best friend Jackson Wang. He transferred to your school a little over a year ago from Hong Kong to continue his studies abroad. He spoke perfect English, and had a slight American twang to his accent. You were apprehensive about him befriending you at first, as you had built up walls so high around you in an attempt to not get hurt by anyone, but you slowly let him in over months of constant pestering by him. It wasn’t long before you and Jackson had become like hand and glove; the best of friends. You relied on him, and he relied on you to make school a little less shitty than it was. However, not all was rosy in the garden, as Jackson soon found out that he was being targeted by one of the ring leaders who commanded the school’s bullying. His name was Lee Jooheon, infamous tough guy and merciless fighter who often got in trouble for various activities such as smoking with his cronies in the bathroom, playing hooky on the daily and actively trying to abuse anyone who even so much as looked at him the wrong way. Everyone feared Jooheon, even his own friends as they didn’t dare to disobey him in fear of him lashing out at them. He had even sent a kid to the hospital once for refusing to give him money on demand. Jooheon was a loose cannon, and everyone knew to stay well away. Jooheon picked his beef with Jackson a few months after Jackson arrived at you high-school. You and Jackson shared all the same classes, but you both also had Math with Jooheon. Luckily, he hardly ever showed up, but when he did, tensions were high. You would be lying if you said that you weren’t absolutely terrified of Jooheon. But you treated him as if he were a wild animal – don’t let him smell your fear. So you always tried your best to ignore him, and you had advised Jackson to do the same. This particular day, you and Jackson arrived at Math a few minutes early. You both entered the classroom and sat at your usual seats beside each other. Jackson had just dyed his hair back to black and gotten a new haircut. “So, whaddya think? Am I even more handsome now?” Jackson asked you dead seriously, admiring his reflection in your handheld mirror that he whipped out of your pencil case. “Oh yeah, totally handsome. Look at all those girls lining up outside the classroom to get a peak of you” you said, motioning to the invisible masses through the door. Jackson glared at you from the side of his eye, before breaking a smile and causing you both to giggle. Of course you thought Jackson was handsome. He was ethereal in his looks and devilishly charming and witty in his personality, but you would never feed his ego – and you would never admit that you secretly liked him either. Just as Jackson was about to fire a beautifully sarcastic remark your way, the classroom door swung open, and in walked Jooheon with his gang, making you almost jump out of your seat. Jackson immediately put his hand over yours, looking at you with softened eyes silently telling you that everything was okay. You smiled at him, nodding before taking your books out of your bag in preparation for the class. “Well well, look at this. Young love.” You heard Jooheon call from across the room. You looked in his direction out of the corner of your eye, noticing that Jackson was completely ignoring him as he scrolled through Twitter on his phone. Jooheon and his buddies started making gross comments about Jackson and you, calling you a slut for being so easy and letting him have you – which was not true in any way, shape or form. You’d never even been kissed by a boy, Jackson knew this too – which caused you both to smirk at each other as Jackson turned his head to you away from Jooheon before giving you a wink and a choking face. You laughed – a little too loudly. And that was your first mistake. “Something funny over there?” Jooheon asked, before getting up and walking right over to you both. You quickly wiped your smile off your face, looking down at your books and trying your best to ignore Jooheon. Jackson was still looking at his phone when Jooheon stopped in front of your desk. “I asked you a question you dumb bitch. Are you deaf as well as easy?” he smirked right into your face. Deciding that you couldn’t take anymore of his petty name calling, you raised your face to meet his, before locating your lady-balls and answering him. “We were just laughing about something online we saw. It’s got nothing to do with you.” You said without hesitation, making Jooheon look at you as if you had 10 heads. Usually, people trembled with fear just being in his presence, but you didn’t back down at all. “What’s your name?” he asked you, looking straight into his eyes, his stare so intense it could burn your eyes clean out of their sockets. Jackson looked between you and Jooheon, attempting to read his actions and intentions. “You don’t need to know my name.” You replied lazily, flicking through your book while yawning, which angered Jooheon to no end. He looked to Jackson, noticing that he hadn’t taken his eyes off you the entire time. “Her pussy must be amazing if you can stick hanging around with such a rude bitch all day, Jackson” Jooheon sneered into his face. Jackson stood up suddenly, coming level and face to face with him from across the table. “Say that again and I’ll knock every tooth out of your mouth.” Jackson growled. Jooheon chuckled darkly, looking over to his friends who were slowly closing in. You stood up, putting your hand on Jacksons arm in an attempt to calm him down. Jackson broke eye contact with Jooheon to look at you, and that was the second mistake you both had made that day. Jooheon took this opportunity to grab Jackson by his shirt collar, yanking him clean off his feet and right over the table. You screamed, running over to try and separate them but not being able to get past his friends that were now holding you back. Jooheon got on top of Jackson, laying into him relentlessly and offering him no mercy or time to even fight back. He punched his face over and over, while Jackson just lay there and took every swing. You were screaming bloody murder at the top of your lungs, causing the surrounding classroom teachers to come sprinting into the room. Several teachers surrounded the two boys, pulling Jooheon off of Jackson and separating them both. Jooheon shook them off, laughing while being dragged away by one of the male teachers. He kept his stare on you as he mouthed “You’re next” before being pulled out of the room altogether. You dropped to your knees beside Jackson who was laying in a pool of his own blood dripping from his nose. You cupped your hands around his face, tears falling from your eyes. “Jackson! Are you okay? Can you hear me?” you shouted at him, to which he slowly nodded his head and put his hand over yours. “I’m fine (Y/N). I’m fine now” he replied, a faint smile on his lips as you breathed a sigh of relief. He wasn’t as badly hurt as you thought he was. Just a bloody nose and bruising to his face and lips, but you were upset and concerned none the less. The other teachers that came rushing to the room were now pulling Jackson to his feet, asking him if he was okay, to which Jackson shrugged their concerns off, telling them that he was fine. “Mr. Wang, please come to the nurses office with me so we can examine your injuries. (Y/N), if you would like to accompany him, you can do so.” Your teacher said, to which you gladly went with him. The nurse gave Jackson a once over, saying he was lucky to escape with minor cuts and bruises. Nurse Choi was all too familiar with the beatings of Jooheon, as she was always the one that had to clean up the mess after and ring concerned parents to tell them about their children being beaten to a pulp. She excused herself to go and file a report, leaving you and Jackson alone in the room. You sat down on the medical bed beside Jackson, looking at him with a mixture of concern and frustration. “Why did you do that? Why did you stand up to him? And why, for god sake, why didn’t you fight back? He could have killed you Jackson.” You whimpered, tears forming in your eyes at the thought of what could have happened. Jackson chuckled, putting his finger up to your cheek to wipe your tear away. “I shouldn’t have started it, but what he said about you really pissed me off. I felt so much anger in that second. And (Y/N), you know that I used to do Marital Arts right? Part of my training is to learn how to be hit before actually hitting someone. He couldn’t have killed me, no one can kill Jackson Wang” he said sternly while pulling his usual stupid faces which made you giggle – even now. You both chuckled, before you lay your head on his chest, making Jackson widen his eyes at the sudden contact. He rested his hand on your head, stroking your hair – when suddenly, Nurse Choi came back in, causing you to jump up out of his grip. Nurse Choi smiled knowingly at you both, before turning to Jackson. “Okay Jackson, your parents are on their way to pick you up. They have insisted on taking you to the hospital so you can get some scans done – which I don’t think is a bad idea at all. Miss (Y/N), you are free to go back to class now.” She smiled at you, handing you your bag. “I’ll call you later when I get home – don’t worry about me. Remember what I said?” Jackson called to you as Nurse Choi ushered you out the door. You smiled and nodded at him, before walking back to class. The rest of the day went by without much commotion. Lots of nosey students asking you questions about what happened, to which you ignored most of them. You weren’t about to go into detail about anything in fear of a rumour being started. The last bell of the day rang and you had never been so happy to hear it in your life. You exited the classroom and began walking down the stairs towards the exit. Just as you were about to turn the corner of the last hallway, you felt a pair of hands grab you from behind. You screamed, but it was no use, and the mystery pair of hands quickly placed themselves around your mouth, before pulling you into an empty supply closet. You kicked and wriggled for your life, but soon you found that there was more than one entity in the room with you. The next thing you knew, you were being rammed up against the wall, and Jooheon was standing in front of you, sweating and breathing heavily in complete rage. “Looks like your boyfriend isn’t around to save you now…we can have some fun, can’t we princess?” he growled, the stench of his breath making you want to be sick as his face inched closer to yours. He held you against the wall, pressing his entire weight on top of you, and you felt that any second, he would crush every bone in your body. “Please…stop…don’t do this Jooheon…please…” you began to bed and cry in the hopes he would take pity on you. There was no way in hell you could fight him, and even if you could, it was 4 against one. To put it plainly; you were up shit creak without a paddle. “Not so tough now, are ya?” Jooheon and the rest of his gang chuckled as tears came flooding down your cheeks and dripping from your chin. “Let me teach you a lesson you won’t forget”. Jooheon stepped back slightly, giving you room to breathe as you gasped for air. And right when you did, he punched you full smack in your stomach, completely winding you as you fell to the ground, unable to breathe. He kicked you in your side, causing you to let out silent cries as all the air in your lungs became trapped. You closed your eyes tight, wishing he would either just leave you alone or kill you. “We’ll continue this at a later date, cutie. See ya” he said, before motioning his friends out of the closet. You lay there for what felt like hours, feeling your stomach and ribs starting to bruise. The air had since returned to your lungs, but you felt like they were on fire. You knew you had to get up and walk home, but explaining your ragged breathing and limping to people was something you knew you couldn’t do. Number one rule about being bullied in your school; if you snitch, you get it 10 worse, as the teachers never did anything about it. You pulled yourself to your feet, pulling your cardigan over your body and wiping your face with your sleeves, before exiting the closet and trying your best to avoid anyone – to which you succeeded. Just as Jackson had promised, he rang you that night but you didn’t answer any of his calls. You didn’t want to tell him what happened, because you knew it would just make things harder. You turned your phone off, telling your Mother that you felt too tired for dinner before shutting yourself in your room for the night. For the next few days, you stayed off school, telling your parents that you had a stomach bug and didn’t feel up to it, which they believed you. Jackson had rang and text you many times, to which you began to feel guilty for ignoring him. You finally replied; TO: King Jacks Sorry for going M.I.A on you and leaving you to battle school by yourself. Just been feeling under the weather. Don’t know when I’ll be back. Stay out of trouble, okay? <3 Around 8pm that night, you heard your doorbell ring, to which you didn’t pay any attention to. You were in the middle of rubbing cream over the severe amount of bruising Jooheon had left on your stomach and ribs, sitting in your room in nothing but your pyjama shorts and bra, when you heard footsteps bouncing up the stairs. “Shite” you thought as you fumbled to put your shirt back on, fearing your mother walking in and seeing the state of your body. But it wasn’t your mother who burst in through your door; it was Jackson. Jackson stared at you, his eyes falling to your badly bruised body as you sat there lie a doe caught in headlights. You felt your heartbeat starting to increase as you then realised that you were half naked. You fumbled again for you shirt. “Jackson, I’m in my bra can you please just-” Jackson cut you off, running over to you and dropping to his knees as his hands went straight for your stomach. His touch was hot and gentle ad he traced the blue and purple galaxies of bruises over your skin, tears forming in his eyes as he cottoned on. He looked up at you, opening his mouth and trying to find words to say. “When did he do this?” he asked bluntly. “It doesn’t matter Jackson, just leave it be. I’m fine, okay?” you said, putting your hand on his cheek, which he quickly swatted away. “Don’t lie to me (Y/N). Is this why you’ve been avoiding me and skipping school?” he whispered, holding you as if you were a piece of fragile glass, ready to shatter at any moment. You raised your hand and gently began pulling it through his soft hair, before patting away his tears with your thumb as you too began to cry. “I’m sorry…I didn’t want you to think this was your fault, because it’s NOT.” You said strongly, looking into his eyes which were back on your body, imagining the severe amount of pain that Jooheon had put you through. He imagined you, lonely and crying, Jooheon laying his filthy hands on you as you begged him to stop. Jackson tightened his jaw as he tensed his whole body up, anger coursing through his veins with every beat of his heart. “I’m going to fucking kill him (Y/N). I’ll break every fucking bone in his body. How fucking dare he do this to you.” He said, as he pulled you in close to him gently, being careful not to hurt you even more. You took in his familiar scent, not even caring that you were still half naked against his chest. Jackson always made you feel protected, but this was something else entirely. You felt like he was a lion, protecting his lioness from immediate danger. You looked up to his face, studying his sullen expression, before he placed his lips on your forehead, littering it with chaste kisses and he rocked you back and forth. You felt your heart swell in your chest at his touch, his strong arms wrapped around you like castle walls. “He’s gonna pay for this. I promise you. I won’t ever let you get hurt again…I…I love you (Y/N). I can’t lose you.”

***

That night, you told your Mother that Jackson came over to help you catch up on a tonne of school and homework that you missed from having a few days off – which thankfully she believed. After all, it wasn’t uncommon for him to come and spend the night with you, staying in your room and sleeping on the small fold-away camping bed you kept in your wardrobe just for him. But tonight, Jackson stayed in bed beside you after he had helped you apply more cream to your badly bruised body. He lay on his back, pulling you over him so that your head was lying on his chest, his arms protectively wrapped around you as he cradled you like a child. You had never seen this side of Jackson before, but then again you never really had any reason to see it – nor did he have much reason to show it. Jackson always did well with keeping his hidden feelings just that; hidden. He didn’t know how you’d react if he confessed to you, but upon seeing you earlier – it had just slipped out. You lay on his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart as you felt your head rise and fall in time with his chest while his hand ghosted light circles over your shoulder blades. You thought back to what he said to you a few hours ago. “I won’t ever let you get hurt again…I…I love you (Y/N). I can’t lose you.” His words echoed through your mind, both dazzling and dizzying you as you repeated them over and over. Did he mean ‘love’ as in plutonic love? Or ‘love’ as in, love love? Was it appropriate to ask him? How would you ask him? Is it something you could just bring up out of the blue? “How badly does it hurt?” Jackson interrupted your train of thoughts. “It’s not as bad as it was, I’m alright now. It looks worse than it actually is” you sniffled into his tshirt. “Jackson, I want to just forget about what happened with Jooheon. You know how all of this goes…I don’t want to report him or attract any more attention to myself. Okay?” you said softly but seriously as you heard Jackson let out a harsh sigh. “If you think that I’m gonna sit back and watch that fucker walk around school…knowing that he laid his hands on you…I can’t do it (Y/N). I wasn’t there to protect you, but I’m here now. And no one will ever touch you again.” He whispered, swallowing hard to hold back his tears as he went over in his head what you told him had happened. “Please Jackson. I don’t want either of us to get hurt again because of him. Please, I’m begging you. Please?” you whimpered, looking up into his face with your eyes threatening tears. Jackson couldn’t argue with you when you looked like this. He wanted to kill Jooheon for what he had done to you, but he knew that you were right. Doing anything to Jooheon right now wouldn’t only be putting himself in danger, but it would in effect endanger you. “Fine. I won’t pursue him. But if he comes after you, I won’t hesitate to give him a taste of his own medicine. You mean too much to me. Seeing you like this kills me.” His voice turned to that of a whisper as he ran his hands gently over the bruised parts of your body. You hummed into his chest, nuzzling into him more and feeling the warmth of his body against yours. You felt the happiest that you had been in a long time – Jackson shared these feelings, even though he didn’t like how they came about. Your alarm went off the next morning as it usually did in time for school. You woke up, still cradled in Jacksons arms as he opened his eyes to see you on his chest. His heart did somersaults at the sight of you, still hazy from sleep as he stroked your hair softly, watching you smile at his gentle touch. “We better start getting ready…” you sighed, lifting yourself from the warmth of Jackson and stepping across your room to rummage for your school uniform. Jackson rolled on to his side and began watching you while resting his face against the pillow. You felt his eyes on you, making you turn around and give him a stern look. “It’s rude to watch a girl get dressed” you said playfully. You slept beside him in just your panties and night shirt, so putting on your tights and skirt in front of him wasn’t a problem. “It’s rude, but this girl I’m watching is so beautiful that I can’t take my eyes off her” Jackson retorted, smiling devilishly at you and making you chuckle. His response further informed you that yes, he did actually mean what he said to you last night – making your heart beat faster and slower at the same time as you realised that you were madly in love with your best friend, and it just so happens that he felt the same. Much to Jacksons disappointment, you managed to get dressed without having to remove your bra, as he made noises of displeasure while you laughed at his demise. You both ate breakfast together with your Mum, before heading off to school. Before you did, your Mum handed Jackson a small Tupperware box. “This is just something I baked this morning. You’re always so good to our family, and we really appreciate you so much. You’re always welcome in our home Jackson” she smiled at him. Jackson hugged her tightly, telling her that she has no need to give him any rewards for caring about you, before thanking her and wishing her well. After leaving the house, Jackson opened the box to see the vanilla cookies that your Mum had made, and you both ate them on the way to school as if Jooheon was a distant memory. That would be how you would have wanted the story to end, but sadly – it didn’t. You both arrived at school, walking together up to the 3rd floor to begin your first lesson of the day which was Art. The hours ticked by, class after class until finally it was lunch time. “I’ll go find a nice spot on the grass. Do you wanna get the food from the hot counter?” you said to Jackson upon leaving French. “Sure! I think they’re serving BBQ ribs today. Do you want spicy ones or plain ones?” Jackson called after you as you walked towards the hallway door. “Surprise me!” you shouted back, before descending down the stairs and heading outside in the direction of the grass along the school’s football pitch. Upon arriving, you took your coat off and sat it on the grass before sitting down and laying back on your hands, feeling the dull pain in your side – but forgetting about it once feeling the sunshine hitting your legs and warming your entire body. You closed your eyes for a while, listening to the passing conversation of other students, the excited shouting and screaming of those who were playing football during their lunch hour; when you felt a presence in front of you, blocking the sun from your body. Thinking it was just Jackson, you continued laying there with your eyes shut. “Oi, you’re blocking my precious sunlight.” You protested at him, smiling to yourself while imagining his face – but your smile quickly faded as you felt a hand grip the back of your hair causing you to let out a yelp as you were yanked to your feet. You opened your eyes to see the person who you really didn’t want to see today at all. It was Jooheon. “Haven’t seen you in a while (Y/N), were you sick? Did you catch a cold? What was wrong?” he sneered into your face as he edged closer. You tried to wriggle free and run away, but whoever was behind you had a firm grip on your hair, causing you great pain anytime you tried to move. Jooheon put his hands on your ribs where he had previously beat you to a pulp, before digging his thumbs into the bruised skin, causing you to scream in pain – your screams going unheard as another person from behind you, most likely the people who watched Jooheon beat you in the closet, put their hand over your mouth, muffling your cries. “You’re going to be a good little girl and not tell anyone about our date in the closet, aren’t you? Because you know what will happen if you do, right?” he whispered into your ear, putting more pressure on to your bruises. You couldn’t stop your tears from streaming down your face at the pain, his words and the fact that this was all out in the open and not one single person was doing anything about it. You wished with all your heart that Jackson was here, but what could he do anyway? It would be 3 vs 1 – was that even possible to overcome? It was then, right in front of you that you seen a fist collide with Jooheon’s face, sending him flying to your left and landing in a heap on the ground. The grip on your hair and around your mouth loosened as the two people from behind you ran to Jooheon’s aid, while you felt an arm wrap itself around your body and pull you behind them. You looked up and seen Jackson, gripping the sides of your arms and looking into your face, his eyes full of rage and terror. “Are you okay? Did he hurt you?” he said hastily, to which you shook your head. You were absolutely terrified now, not knowing how you were both going to get out of this. “Whatever happens, I want you to stay behind me. You understand? Don’t get yourself involved. Stay well back.” Jackson ghosted the tips of his fingers over your chin, before turning around and standing in front of you, as if to shield you from Jooheon. Jooheon managed to stand up with the help of his two friends, rubbing his jaw where Jackson had decked him full force. He glared at Jackson, chest rising and falling, clicking his tongue and rolling his eyes here and there while shifting his weight from foot to foot. “You finally able to grow some balls now Jackson? I didn’t think you had it in you, but you’re gonna regret that.” He threatened darkly, as he stepped forward with his 2 friends, coming closer to Jackson. “The only person that’s going to regret anything is you. Walk away while you still can.” Jackson said calmly, repositioning his feet to a steadier stance as the 3 boys closed in. “You know, you’re pretty cocky for a guy who’s outnumbered…and I don’t think your girlfriend could be much help to you. She was so pathetic when I shoved her up against the wall and had her begging for me to let her go” he laughed sadistically. You could almost feel Jacksons rage radiating from his body at Jooheon’s words, while Jackson began breathing deeply in an attempt to shake him off. He knew that Jooheon was trying to get a rise out of him – but what Jooheon didn’t know was Jackson had done martial arts for the past 10 years, and he knew how to control his anger when it mattered most. “Any last words?” Jooheon muttered through his teeth, cocking his head to the side as he stopped a few feet before Jackson, his 2 friends closing in further. Jackson could hear his heartbeat loud and clear, before he cleared his mind of everything, except you. Knowing that he had to protect you was his main focus. “Bring it on” Jackson replied. Jooheon’s 2 friends didn’t hesitate as they lunged for Jackson, but Jackson was already one step ahead as he pushed you backwards and side stepped the both of them, not turning his back on Jooheon. He side stepped, before slipping back in and swiftly jabbing the side of his hand on to one of the boys pressure points on his neck, making him drop to the ground – cold. The remaining boy let out a growl, coming for Jackson once again with a sloppy punch, to which Jackson easily dodged and sent an uppercut flying into the boys chin. He moaned, falling on to the grass in agony beside his friend. Jackson stepped over them both, looking back out of the corner of his eye at you. You were completely stunned at how quick and easy Jackson made the whole thing look as it quite literally happened in only a few seconds. You had only ever seen things like this in movies, so to see it happen right before your eyes was both shocking and amazing. After seeing that you were okay, Jackson turned to face Jooheon once again. “All this over a girl Jackson…you know, if you had of played your cards right, you could be with us. The kings of this fucking school, instead you’re whipped like a dog” Jooheon chuckled as he shook his head, his voice dropping on the last word. “You could give me any card in the world, and I’d choose her every time.” Jackson replied, both of them circling and sizing each other up. “Awh man, don’t tell me this is all for love? You’re pathetic. How’s life on the end of that leash she has you on?” Jooheon squinted his eyes as he clenched his jaw, the pain a reminder of Jacksons fist colliding with it just moments ago. “Are you gonna stand there and run your mouth all day or are you gonna man up and come for me?” Jackson edged him on, knowing that he was severely getting to Jooheon by the redness in his cheeks. With that, Jooheon sprung forward, screaming and throwing empty punches into the air. Had this not been a serious fight, Jackson would have died from laughing at just how unprofessional and pathetic Jooheon fought. He was able to miss and dodge all of his failed swings, further frustrating Jooheon as he lashed out uncontrollably, shuffling forward in a rage as Jackson just calmly shrugged him off. Deciding that enough was enough, Jackson grabbed Jooheon’s closed fist that was meant for his face, before twisting it around his back and pushing Jooheon to the floor. Jooheon cried out in pain as Jackson pressed some of his body weight against his wrist, the pain surging through Jooheon’s body with every second that went by. “Okay okay stop! Get off fuck you’re gonna break something!” Jooheon screamed into the grass as Jackson continued to put pressure on him. “Did (Y/N) not tell you something similar when you rammed her against the wall and beat her to within an inch of her life? Why should I give you any mercy when you don’t offer it to anyone else? Hmm?!” Jackson’s voice was deep, well controlled and close to Jooheon’s ear as he pressed even harder, pulling Jooheon’s whole arm into a twist now. “Alright I get it! Fuck, please just don’t…I- I won’t touch her again! I’ll stay away from the both of you- please…f-f-fuck please stop!” tears started flowing from Jooheon’s eyes at the intense pain that was being inflicted upon him. Jackson leaned back a little. “If you ever come near her again, if you even so much as look in her direction; I won’t just break your arm. I’ll snap your fucking neck in half.” He growled, gritting his teeth. “I promise, I won’t. I’ll stay away. Wait…what do you mean you won’t just break my- FUUUUUUCK!” Upon hearing Jooheon’s answer, Jackson jerked Jooheon’s arm, making a snapping noise and administering a clean break. Jooheon screamed bloody murder before Jackson let go of him, leaving him to roll around on the grass as he clutched his arm close to his body. By now, they had attracted quite the crowd – even teachers looked on as none of them dared to get involved; even they were terrified of Jooheon. Everyone just stood in silence, watching Jackson as he walked over to you and listening as Jooheon screamed in pain on the ground. “Let’s go” he said, taking you by the hand and picking up your coat and bags as he walked towards the school gates. You both walked in silence until you reached a nearby park which was halfway between your school and your home. Jackson never let go of you once, before you both sat down on one of the benches in the park which was completely empty as all the kids were still in school. You weren’t sure what to say to him as you just stared at your knees, before you noticed that Jackson was looking right at you. You raised your gaze to meet his as he softened his features. “Did I scare you?” he asked softly. You would be lying if you said that what he did didn’t shock you, but you weren’t scared of Jackson, in fact; you had never felt more at ease with him than you did now. “No. Jooheon scared me, but you…you saved me. I’m just shocked that you were able to beat them up as you did” you chuckled dryly, making Jackson breathe a sigh of relief. “Hey I didn’t beat them up, it’s self defence. I let them all make the first move. If the school decide to call the police, I have more than enough witnesses to say that I never threw the first punch.” Jackson said proudly, giving you the smile that you adored so much as he beamed at you. Your emotions were so high already for him, and that just completely pushed you over the edge as you suddenly pressed your lips against his – making Jackson widen his eyes in complete shock. If it had of been appropriate to do so, he would have pinched himself to make sure he wasn’t dreaming. But instead, he completely melted into your kiss, reaching his arms out and sliding you over, nearly pulling you on to his lap. You deepened the kiss, hungry for his love as you both opened your mouths granting each other fair access. You snaked your hands up and around his neck, feeling the stubble of his undercut tickle the palms of your hands as you listened to his laboured breathing. You smiled through the kiss, thinking to yourself about how long you had really wanted to do this for - the endless thoughts of kissing your best friend who you had accidently fallen in love with. All those times spent together, the late nights, the early mornings, the long school days and the short weekends by each other’s sides. As his hands gently rested themselves on your frame, you thought about how he had protected you, how he had risked everything to make sure you were okay. You thought back to his face when he seen the bruises on your body and how it looked like his world was coming crashing down around him. You gently pulled back, breaking the kiss and lacing your hand with his, looking into his deep brown eyes. “I…I love you Jackson” you said shyly but surely, as you softly bit your lip, tasting him on it and making you smile. Jackson’s heart was in his throat as he grinned uncontrollably, squeezing your hand and pulling you into his chest. “I already said it last night, but I assume you just thought I was saying it as a friend. But I’ve loved you from the moment I met you, so you better get used to me being around all the time to kiss you and snuggle you, just like this” he said, his voice softer than you had ever heard it as it made your heart drum through your chest. You rested in his arms, the petals from the cherry and apple blossom trees falling around the both of you as the warm sun shone down on you. There would be a lot to answer for tomorrow at school – Jackson breaking Jooheon’s arm, the both of you leaving school during the day without permission. But you knew that none of that was relevant because you had him. You had Jackson, and he had you. And with the two of you together, you knew that there was nothing that you couldn’t overcome and move on from. Because the love you both shared for each other may have been long overdue, but it was a million times stronger now, and that’s all that mattered.

[redrobin-detective]

The Long Way Around 3

Welcome back and Happy New Year's Eve. It's Izuku's first day at Yuuei's General Education Department and, of course, it can't be easy. Still setting the scene, finally introducing my beloved OCs you've probably heard me mention. I got some pics of my cute kids to show off so those will be up later. Will probably post Four earlier than intended just to start progressing the plot more. Thank you for reading! I appreciate it!

Chapter Two <-- --> Chapter Four

Chapter Three: A Long Way to the Starting Line

Izuku was a mess as he ran through the halls of his new high school. His mom wouldn't stop hugging and congratulating him this morning which meant he'd just missed his train and had to wait for the later one. He wasn't late quite yet but he'd hoped for more time to explore the campus. If he was being honest, he'd wanted to scout out the hero students. Oh well there was time for that later, he slows as he approaches class 1-C.

He looks at his classroom with trepidation but also renewed courage. This is where his story begins. Just as Izuku was about to enter, the door screeches open and he finds himself on the ground as another kid runs into him. A bit dazed, Izuku looks with concern at the boy who'd toppled onto him.

He was about his size with very messy orange hair and bright red eyes but, more importantly, he was shaky, pale and looked like he was about to be sick. The boy scrambles to his feet and weaves his way down the hall, presumably towards the restroom.

"Oh god I can't do this, I absolutely can't do this. I can't-" Izuku winces at the sound of the kid losing his breakfast on the hallway floor. What a way to start the day, poor guy.

"Oh jeez, that doesn't sound good," a girl with dark purple hair tied in a tail says as she pokes her head out the door with concern. Next to her is another tall boy with fluffy brown hair and glowing green eyes. She looks down at him and it takes Izuku an extra second to notice the girl has no irises, only pure white sclera underneath her glasses. "Look at you, are you okay?" She holds out her hand to help Izuku to his feet.

"Your mom seems really sweet but you can't let her make you late every day," she says brightly once she lets go of his hand. Izuku just blinks at her. "Sorry, I'm Motome Ayame and my quirk is Past Vision, I can see up to an hour of anyone's past if I touch them," Motome explains with a small smile. Down the hall, the red haired boy has gotten to his feet and finally staggered into the restroom. "What's your name?"

"M-M-Midoriya Izuku," Izuku stammers, he was already a little off-kilter from the confrontation and now here he was talking to a girl! This isn't how he imagined his first day of high school would go.

"Nice to meet you," the brown haired boy says in a friendly, but distracted, voice. So distracted, he probably didn't even realize he'd spoken in English. Now that Izuku looks at him, he did seem like he had some Western features, perhaps he was mixed? "My name is Patrick Takamitsu, please call me Patrick, I'll catch up with you guys later. I want to make sure that kid is okay. Excuse me," Patrick says as squeezes past them to follow the redhead into the restroom.

"Anyway, welcome to class 1-C," Motome says with a shrug as she steps aside to let Izuku in the classroom. "We still have a few minutes before homeroom starts, I can introduce you to some people I was talking to earlier." She says in a way which feels unnatural even though it shouldn't be. Here, Izuku wasn't the quirkless freak who wants to be a hero against all odds. He was just another student with no ties to his middle school self.

"Yeah, sure, that'd be great. Thank you, Motome," she leads him over to a small group who smile and wave with acknowledgement as they walked over. Most of them were girls, he notes with a funny twisting feeling in his gut as he feels his face flush.

"This is Midoriya," Motome introduces to the small group of four crowding around a single desk. "He had an unfortunate run in with that poor kid on his way to the lavatory but Taka- uh Patrick went to go check up on him." Izuku smiles at the group and is pleased when they smile back. "Midoriya, this is Kiyoshi, Kaneki, Korudo and Taketsu."

"Kiyoshi Kokoro, class empath. Don't be so worried about people liking you Midoriya; I just met you and I like you just fine." A tiny girl with the pastel blue hair tied in a braid says brightly. The person standing next to Kiyoshi, a tall girl with soft brown deer ears, horns and tail sighs fondly and pats Kiyoshi's head.

"Don't mind her," the brown eyed girl says, "Koko-chan and I went to middle school together; she's always like that. She just says whatever she's thinking or feeling, even if it happens to be someone else's emotion." She looks down with a mock glare at Kiyoshi who grins before turning back to Izuku. "I'm Kaneki Shika by the way; it's a pleasure to meet you, Midoriya."

"I'm Korudo Dan," the only boy in the group with pale blond hair says with a proud smile. "I can control my body's temperature meaning I can not only survive in any environment but I can heat or chill my body. I may have failed the Heroics exam but I'm going to get transferred and become a great hero someday."

"and I'm Taketsu Akane, nice to meet you," says the dark haired girl sitting in the chair. "So is your quirk like Endeavor's son?" She was a big girl with a rounded face and wavy black hair falling over her shoulders held back by a red headband. "Can you form ice?" Taketsu asks.

"Well," Korudo says awkwardly.

"What about fire?" She continues.

"Not that either," Korudo answers testily, looking annoyed.

"Well what are you going to do? I think they want heroes who can do more than change their body temperature," Taketsu says with a smile but there's a teasing look in her dark red eyes.

"I still have a shot!" Korudo emphasizes. "The Todoroki kid has a natural advantage since his dad is the Number Two. Maybe I can't make ice or flame but I can still do stuff!" The girls begin to chuckle among themselves but Izuku finds he couldn't.

"I believe you," Izuku speaks up, calling everyone's attention back to him. He blushes a bit under the scrutiny but continues. "I-I mean, it is a pretty handy quirk from the sounds of it. Depending on how fast you could regulate your temperature and what adverse effects it had on your body, it could be very versatile. You could perform rescue operations to regions where other people wouldn't survive; you could warm up or cool down sick patients. I'm sure you could even come up with combat techniques that augment your quirk if you really worked at it." Izuku says, losing himself to his thoughts as he went through all the possibilities for a hero with Korudo's abilities.

"Hey, look out everyone; we've got a nerd in here." Another boy across the room with his hair styled in a tall pompadour says before letting out a loud nasally laugh. Izuku shuts his mouth on instinct from years of conditioning. He hates himself a bit for that, how easy it is to fall back into old, bad habits.

"Hey, don't listen to him Midoriya," Motome says, giving pompadour boy an empty-eyed glare that had the other boy turning away in discomfort.

"Yeah, that was amazing, Midoriya. Are you interested in Heroics too?" Taketsu asks with a smile that puts Izuku at ease. He nods shyly as she turns to address Korudo. "Sorry if I upset you, I was just teasing. Besides, I really don't have room to talk," she says a bit nervously. "I was interested in being a hero for a long time but I kind of gave that up."

"Well, I suppose you do have a point that I need to improve both my quirk and physical abilities if I want to transfer." Korudo sniffs, looking unhappy but unwilling to admit it. Korudo looks over at him and Izuku knows that Korudo was going to ask about his quirk. Luckily, Izuku was saved from that reveal by the classroom door opening revealing the biracial boy, Patrick, and the boy who'd been sick. Behind them comes one of the most terrifying men Izuku has ever seen.

Apparently the rest of the class agreed for they all freeze when the tall, dark-skinned man marches into the room. Izuku spots a few scars on his face but, more noticeably, his left hand ended at the wrist and three fingers on his right were partially amputated. Was he a hero? Or some kind of Yakuza boss?

"Good morning class, I am your homeroom teacher Chiura Hiro. Please take your seats," Sensei says in a quiet but stern voice that has the entire class seated and silent in a matter of seconds. "I will not waste your time or mine with meaningless pleasantries. Here is what you need to know: you will be on time every day for homeroom, you will be quiet unless I call on you and you will respect me and your classmates at all times. If you can follow these rules, then we will have a good working relationship," he stops and let the weight of his words sink in before continuing.

"Now opening ceremonies are about to start, we will walk there single file and, once that has concluded, you will change into your gym uniforms and we will conduct physical exams. I understand that your middle schools prevented you from using your quirks during these tests. Well, this is Yuuei and, even though you're in General Education, we still expect you to be able to manage your abilities. So you will be allowed to use your quirks within reason." A quick cheer bursts into air and is quickly silenced. Izuku gulps nervously. Use of quirks, huh, that was going to be tricky.

XxX

Even Yuuei can't make opening ceremonies interesting so Izuku spaces out for most of it as he frets over the upcoming physical exam. He'd hoped to have a little longer before his new classmates found out about his quirklessness. It probably wouldn't be as bad as it had been in middle school but just the few minutes talking to everyone this morning had been real nice. Izuku supposes it was better to get it over with than to keep living a lie. He winces as he remembers that he'd let slip that he was interested in applying for the Heroics department.

Great, they'll think he was useless and an idiot.

His pessimistic thoughts are briefly sidelined by the jaw-dropping announcement that All Might, the Number One Hero and everyone's favorite, All Might, would be teaching at Yuuei this year. Izuku can barely contain his excitement. He'd applied to Yuuei because it was the best hero school in the country but now his idol is going to be here too? Sure, he was probably only going to teach the hero students but Izuku might see him in the halls, hear that loud booming voice somewhere other than his tv.

Despite that bombshell of an announcement, the assembly ends on an awkward note when it became clear that hero class 1-A just, wasn't going to show up. He's not sure what happened there but the teachers look annoyed but not all that surprised. Izuku doesn't see Kaachan. His former friend had spent the last week of middle school announcing his acceptance into Yuuei's Heroics department so Izuku figures he must be with the absent 1-A.

soon, the whole class is dressed in their gym clothes and standing on one of Yuuei's many fields. Chiura-sensei paces calmly in front of them as they're lined up in class order. Maybe it was Izuku's nerves, but he feels like his teacher pauses a bit longer in front of him, as if sensing his weakness, before continuing.

"All right, we will be performing a variety of physical exercises today. This is just like you did in middle school but you will be allowed to use your quirks so long as you control them and use them only for the tests. At Yuuei, we believe in using all of our skills to reach our full potential. Is this clear?"

"Yes, Sensei," they all respond while Chiura-sensei nods with approval. He goes back to pacing with his mangled right hand holding his left stump behind his back.

"I suppose I should tell you a little about myself," he says in a steely calm voice that demands attention with its quiet assurance. "My quirk is Identification which means I can identify the quirk of anyone I look at and use that to compile basic strengths and weakness." Ah, so that was the reason Izuku got an extra look over. I'm still looking for it too, Sensei, Izuku thinks dryly.

"I joined the military right out of high school, became involved in special operations all across Japan and occasionally overseas. This," Sensei says, holding up his hands, "happened nearly 15 years ago during a mission. It cut my military career short but I found work within Hero Support. I have personally worked with many professionals heroes, including most of the ones on this campus, and yes, All Might himself. While I am not a hero; no one understands them better than me. So why am I teaching General Education?" He stops and stares them down with his pale golden eyes.

"Because I understand that the Heroics entrance exam is a load of bullcrap. Any idiot can smash a robot while talented students fall through the cracks. The General Education teachers serve as a checkpoint. I'm sure all of you at some point have dreamed of being a hero, but either due to failing the Heroics exam or lack of confidence, you ended up here. One of my jobs is to evaluate you, see if any of you are capable of transferring." Chiura-sensei stops and gives them one last appraising look, "so put your all into these exercises, your futures just might depend on it." He lets his words settle before giving them a quick nod. "You have five minutes to warm up and then we begin."

Izuku is all but shaking by the time his teacher finishes and why shouldn't he be? The man had looked right at them and said he was going to be the judge of whether or not they deserved to transfer. While it was common knowledge that students could move to the Heroics department, it wasn't something that happened very often. Izuku wonders if he's looking at one of the reasons why.

"Oh man, that was intense," Taketsu says, coming up beside him with a friendly but nervous grin. "Wanna stretch together? Exercises aren't exactly my strong suit and you look like you know what you're doing." Izuku was going to ask her what she meant when he realizes he had automatically started his normal warm-up regimen.

Taking a look around; Izuku notices most of the other students were awkwardly trying to figure out how to work their bodies and some weren't even trying at all. Strength training and martial arts has become such a cornerstone of his life that he forgot to factor in that most people probably don't have the same discipline.

"Yeah, sure, I'll show you what I do," Izuku says, walking Taketsu through some of his work-out. She was easy to talk to and the familiarity of his exercises quickly put him at ease as he explains the purposes of each stretch.

"You really are on top of this!" Taketsu huffs as she attempts to mimic his toe touch only to stop just past her knees. "What kind of quirk do you have to keep you in such good shape?"

"Um actually I'm quirkless," Izuku mutters, hoping she hadn't heard him. But the wide-eyed look in her eyes tells him that she had. "I uh hope that's okay," he says shyly

"Yeah, no, of course it's okay," she says quietly, as if Izuku were some kind of mythical creature she had only heard about but never seen. Taketsu shakes her head, "sorry, it's just a bit unexpected is all. You don't see many quirkless people these days. You said in homeroom you wanted to transfer to Heroics, right?"

"Yeah," Izuku admits with an embarrassed wince.

"Hey, I think that's great," she smiles revealing sharpened teeth. "I can't wait to see what you can do."

"Alright, if you're not ready now, you'll never be," Chiura-sensei announces, startling most of the class out of their small conversations. "We'll start with the 50 meter dash. First three in the class, come up and state your name, quirk and intention for study. You will perform the test and then the next group of three will do the same, is that clear?"

"Yes, Sensei," they parrot back as the first three began to gather up. An explosion rips through the air just then, stopping everyone in their tracks. Chiura-sensei frowns at them.

"We're not going to stop and gape every time one of the hero kids uses their quirks, now hurry into line." As the first three students line up, Izuku was trying to loosen up his muscles which had tensed up at the loud, and very familiar, sound.

According to the strength; Kaachan had to be on the other end of the school, in one of the aft fields probably. It was fine, he was just doing physical exams like Izuku was, nothing out of the ordinary, nothing to be afraid of. But it's easier said than done. Still, he tamps down the rest of his fear while the first students line up and give their introductions.

Izuku's anxiety quickly leaves him as he gets the chance to observe his classmates. It makes him realize a few things. One, spending so much time reading up on heroes, Izuku sometimes forgets that not every quirk was combat suitable or even all that useful; such as the boy who kept tripping over his unnaturally growing hair. Another was that, as far as physical training was concerned, most of his classmates didn't have the strength or stamina suited for these tests. Despite being quirkless, it was clear Izuku was more suited for this kind of exercise than most of the other students.

"Next!" And now it was his turn; Korudo, Kiyoshi and himself stepped forward. He listens to them explain their quirks again; Korudo with Thermoregulation was set on Heroics while Kyoshi the empath wanted to be a teacher.

"M-my name is Midoriya Izuku and I uh I also would like to go into Heroics." He stops and searches for the only person he sort of knows which is Taketsu. She gives him a worried smile and two thumbs up, "and I don't have a quirk." Well, that was done with, now for the fallout. A loud laugh breaks through the crowd. It was the pompadour kid who was hunched over as he laughs.

"What kind of idiot thinks he can get into the Heroics without a quirk? That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard." A few other of the kids chuckle nervously along with him but most glare or shift uncomfortably, probably too ashamed to openly mock Izuku.

"Kamoto," Chiura-sensei snaps which instantly silences Kamoto's merriment. The boy is upright with a startled look on his face as Sensei steps forward and gets right in his face. "I gave you three rules this morning: be in homeroom on time, be quiet while I speak and to respect me and your classmates at all times." He leans down further until he was nearly nose to nose with Kamoto.

"If you disrespect your classmates, you disrespect me. Now tell me boy, is that something you want to do?" Kamoto quickly shakes his head. Chiura-sensei stares him down a second longer before stepping back to address the entire class. "Every student here has earned their place here until they haven't. Likewise, every student has the potential to go beyond and I'm going to do my best to ensure each and every one of you gets there. Now, may we continue Kamoto or do you have anything else to add?"

"No, Sensei," Kamoto whispers, doing his best to shrink into his uniform.

"I'm getting old boy, speak up," Sensei says with an exaggerated grin that reminds Izuku of Rikimaru-shishou.

"No, Sensei!" Kamoto says much louder, his face twisted with fear and embarrassment. Appearing satisfied for now, Chiura-sensei turns back to their group with a much calmer demeanor.

"Alright, if you three are done, then get on over to start line. I'll let you know when to go," Sensei says, resetting his stopwatch. Izuku is too busy staring at his teacher.

He didn't know teachers could do that; his middle and primary school teachers had never bothered to stop any of the bullying Izuku endured as a kid which had been so much worse than what Kamoto had said. He can't properly think of a time when someone other than his mom stood up for him once they knew he was quirkless. Chiura-sensei gives him a look.

"Is there a problem, Midoriya?"

"N-no, Sensei!" Izuku pipes up, dashing over to the starting line where Kiyoshi and Korudo were already getting into position. Now that the worst was over, Izuku feels like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. Kiyoshi wishes them both well, Korudo appears cocky and overconfident but Izuku is calm. He runs nearly 8 kilometers every day, a 50 meter dash would be nothing.

"Go!" And Izuku was off like a light. All too soon it was over but Izuku feels like he could keep running forever even while Kyoshi and Korudo wheezed. Sensei gives him an acknowledging nod.

"7.2 seconds, that's a full second better than the rest of you so far. Good work, Midoriya, I expect to see that same kind of performance in the rest of your tests. Next group line up, let's see if your quirks can stand up against training and discipline," Izuku lets out a breath as he steps back into line.

Once there, classmates are congratulating him and asking what else he could do. The attention was dizzying and Izuku simply nods at the people whispering at him, not trusting himself not to dissolve into tears if he opened his mouth. It wasn't Heroics but it was lightyears better than where he'd been. Izuku gives Taketsu an encouraging smile as she, Patrick and another boy step forward as the last group.

"Hey! I'm Patrick Takamitsu, please call me Patrick, I'm originally from the good ole US of America but my dad lives here so now I do too!" Patrick begins with a flourish as his skin began to brightly glow. "My quirk is Glow and, like many of my dear friends, I'm also aspiring for Heroics," he beams, literally, causing some of the other students to shield their eyes. Well, it wasn't the most exciting quirk but there were definitely applications with proper conditioning.

"And I'm Taketsu Akane, my quirk is Bloodspell which means I can manipulate my own blood and I uh," Taketsu pauses and considers herself before continuing, "I haven't decided what I'm doing yet." Finally, the last kid steps forward with a tired, but resolute look on his face.

"My name's Shinsou Hitoshi," he says quietly. "My quirk is brainwash and I'm going to be a hero." Not, trying, going to be. Izuku wishes he had that kind of confidence but with a quirk like that it was understandable. There were some hushed whispers behind him but Izuku couldn't make them out, but Shinsou's fists clench by his side. With all of the introductions done, the rest of the exercises seem to pass by quickly.

Classmates chatted more easily with one another, details were shared on quirks and personal history as they completed more and more trials. Back in middle school, Izuku used to be terrible at these things, always finishing near the end despite the lack of quirks involved. Since he started training with Rikimaru-shishou not long after school started, he'd never gotten to measure himself against his classmates.

The rest of the morning was spent completing the other activities but Izuku hardly felt tired. This was nothing compared to what he usually subjected himself to. They're given a few minutes to rest as the results are compiled. Izuku grins at Taketsu, lying red-faced and panting on the grass, she gives a half-hearted kick in his direction when she sees his smile. Kourdo was talking to Patrick, Kyoshi was leaned up against Kaneki's back and Motome had pulled out a book off to the side. For once, everything seems to be going right.

"Alright, line up. We're going to go over the results and then head back inside," Chiura-sensei orders.

The results were stunning to say the least. Izuku came first or close to first in nearly all of the activities as most of his classmates didn't have quirks that enhanced their physical abilities, moreover, it looks like most of them haven't undergone any sort of training. It's ironic in a way, Izuku was the only one in the class without some sort of special ability and yet he ended up with the second highest score of the class.

"Let this be a lesson to you all," Chiura-sensei says after he's announced the final scores. "Strength is not defined by your quirk, but by the discipline of your mind, body and soul. We have a couple of students who are actively pursuing the hero track, for those of you were are serious about that, I suggest you work on your performance and attitude. High school passes quickly, go beyond or go home. You have lunch for one hour and then regular classes will begin promptly at 1300, dismissed."

"That was amazing Midoriya!" Taketsu says, coming up to him with a bright smile that lights up her face. He blushes from head to toe looking at how cute she looks and stammers out an awkward thanks. "Would you be willing to train me?" she questions, pointing to herself. "I need to lose some of these hips, not to mention everywhere else too. What kind of training have you had?" She babbles as some of the others fall in line with them.

"Oh I've primarily trained with Jeet Kune Do with my master, but I worked with Aikido in middle school and have incorporated that into my style as well." Izuku lists off, feeling more comfortable in his element. "I've wanted to be a hero since I was a kid; I know I'm at a huge disadvantage without a quirk so I'm working on training my mind and body instead. Just because Yuuei hasn't graduated a quirkless hero doesn't mean it's impossible."

"That's incredible!" Taketsu says.

"That's insane," Korudo counters, the small group turns to look at him but he frowns and crosses his arms. "What? We were all thinking it," he sighs and runs his hand through his short hair and smiles slightly. "Still gotta admit you beat me fair and square in physical tests; even Taketsu beat me a couple of times and she's got 15 kg on me." Taketsu swats him on the arm.

"My point being, it's insane but Sensei is right, you can't write someone off before they get started and you've got a hell of a start. I'd be interested in working with you too, if you don't mind. I've got this amazing quirk but it doesn't mean much if I can't do anything with it." Izuku is touched by the friendly camaraderie and acceptance of his ambition despite how impossible it sounds.

"Yeah me too! We could make it a group thing!" Patrick says, leaning down to put his arms around Korudo and Izuku's shoulders. "We can be like a secret club! We can train together and get t-shirts and everything." He says, his face glowing a bit.

"Please don't touch me, Takamitsu," Korudo hums as he slips from Patrick's hold. "Midoriya, those things you were saying about my quirk in homeroom, can you read those back at me. I think you have some good ideas that I can work with. Of course, I'd be willing to help you with anything you needed in return."

"Come on, we can talk more over lunch, let's go before the hero kids take all the good stuff. All this exercise has made me hungry." Taketsu says, picking up her pace. The four of them were joking and laughing all the way to the cafeteria and Izuku had never felt so complete in his life.

For just being a stepping stone on his way to being a hero, the General Education department was pretty great too. When he goes home that night, and describes in detail the events of his day to his mom, he tells her that it feels like he's finally found somewhere he belongs, somewhere he can be himself for once. He tells her it's a place that can help him achieve his dream but also make him enjoy the journey getting there.

[writingwell]

Castle's suicide note

#323 

(I don’t know what might trigger you, but if the prompt above makes you feel disquieted, please don’t continue. Be assured, Castle is not killing himself.)

-----

She’s rushing through the loft, grabbing a shoe here, snagging her jacket from the couch, hopping on one foot towards the kitchen for coffee she doesn’t need. She has files under an arm for the press briefing tomorrow, she’s walking funny as she searches for her other shoe, she’s trying to shove toast into her mouth so her stomach won’t rumble later tonight when everyone has gone home and she’s tempted to do the same.

She’s not pregnant. But they’re working on it; they’re going to see the specialist later this week, he finally agreed. No one will get wind of it, she hopes, at least not until she has something for them to get wind of. Stupid to feel like her job could jinx her, but it could. Does? Is?

She’s alone in the loft, and as the coffee finishes percolating, she checks the time. 

It’s late. Where’s Rick?

All of her controlled whirlwind comes to a grinding halt.

It’s late. She didn’t give it a second thought when she came stumbling home and straight into the shower, stripping her mud-soaked clothes off and leaving them on the floor under the second showerhead. She didn’t even think of him when the door didn’t open and his face didn’t pop around the corner and ask her for all the fun details of her case.

She’s a captain; she’s needed back at her precinct. But where is her husband at this hour?

“Rick?” she calls out, more tentative sounding than she’d like. She’s trying to remember if she actually saw his body in the bed or if it was mere pillows.

She takes a step towards the hallway, crashing into the wall as she forgets she’s missing a shoe, and her phone vibrates angrily in her back pocket.

Forget the pumps; she can wear her brown boots for this. 

She kicks off the heel and jogs back for the bedroom with the smell of coffee redolent in the air. Drawing her back. She needs to go. Her phone has another anxious alert that comes in right as she clears the doorway.

No. Not Rick. Just pillows.

It’s nearly midnight. Where is he?

She strides to the closet and tugs out her favorite brown boots, unzipping one as she jostles the files, the other boot, and her phone. She’s already heading for the office to check - sometimes he gets in the zone, just as she does, and he wouldn’t register a train wreck - but his office is empty.

His laptop is up. Her phone, alerts unlooked at, buzzes again. But she’s irresistibly drawn to his desk, her feet moving without her express written consent.

She’s not pregnant yet. There might be something wrong, one of them, both of them. Her heart is pounding. It’s midnight, or almost, and he’s not here to make her coffee she shouldn’t drink, and his laptop is up and not plugged in and he never leaves it like that.

She taps the space bar and the computer whines and wakes, blue illuminating the screen.

He has a document open on his desktop, untitled, unsaved. Words on the screen she shouldn’t read.

She shouldn’t read, but he hasn’t been writing lately, said after they got shot it was too hard to put Nikki and Rook through anything more.

She shouldn’t read but it screams off the page.

I can’t keep going like this. I’m sorry. You’re stronger than you know. You survived your mother; you’ll survive me.

Everything falls.

Papers flutter and skim across the wood floor, boots thudding hard after. Her knees drop and her body hits the desk on the way down.

She claws, the chair, the desk, her phone crushed in her hand. Nothing registers, nothing comes through, a terrible black darkness and a denial so strong and vivid and furious that she chokes on it.

No.

A clattering from somewhere, sounds muted by blood rushing in her ears, throbbing in her head. Sounds and disquiet, things disturbed, a sudden grip on her shoulder.

“Is it bad news? I saw something on CNN. Did another bomb-”

She turns a blind face to the thing hauling her to her feet.

“Oh, shit. That’s a novel. Kate. That’s the novel. I just started it, had to run out for snacks, I’ve been writing reams since you’ve - shit - Kate. Kate, that’s Rook. And it’s not a suicide note, Rook would never do that, oh my God, stop looking at me like that.”

She cracks. 

Flings herself at him, crushing everything, and he’s crushing back, murmuring words into her hair, petting her, holding her up until her feet finally work. Knees. Hips. Shoulders.

She smacks him best she can so close like this. Hits him again for leaving it up untitled and a mess on the laptop.

He’s laughing a little, chuckling at her anger that isn’t anger. “I know, I know, really bad timing. But hey, I’m writing again.”

“No,” she growls, slapping his chest and pushing back. “You’ve been sad and quiet, you get quiet when it’s bad, like right after we were shot and you couldn’t help me, and then trying to have a baby-”

“Hey, no, no. I’m - yeah, okay, I’m sad. I’ve been... I don’t know if you can call it depressed-”

“You stopped coming to the Twelfth.”

He sighs and bows his forehead to hers. “Okay, I’ve been depressed.”

“And quiet,” she whispers.

He doesn’t answer that.

“Three years ago, I’d have known this was a novel,” she chokes out. “Three years ago, I would never have thought-”

“Three years ago, we hadn’t been shot in our own home.” 

“And.” She grips his biceps because therapy has only done so much, and there’s more to this. “And? Three years ago...”

He growls her name as if in exasperation, goes on. “Three years ago, my wife hadn’t told me she needed space, utterly upending my entire sense of self and what I’m worth, not only to her, but to the damn world. Are you happy, Kate? I’m still not sure I’m any good for you, I’m damn well certain I bring you nothing but heartache and misery, and if I were thinking about killing myself, I wouldn’t write you a note like a selfish bastard. I’d just do it.”

She stares at him. He stares back. His lips move, nothing comes out.

Kate steps into him, presses her cheek to his; she’s not sure which of them is crying, maybe both. She clings to him because she never has the right words, because words don’t penetrate this writer, not when he’s so good at twisting them to his own ends.

“You need to go back to the therapist,” she whispers.

He nods against her. A little noise in his throat. “Rook didn’t write a suicide note.”

“No,” she agrees, clutching him a little harder. “No, but did you?”

“No,” he says forcefully. “No. I just found my angle for the novel. I was only...”

She turns her lips into his jaw, his neck. “Let’s hold off on the doctor’s appointment, hold off on the baby-”

“No,” he gasps. “No, that’s the-” A rough noise, his hands at her shoulders. “That’s a bright spot, thinking maybe we figure this out.”

She nods, but she’ll cancel it anyway, reschedule. 

“I’ll call Dr Burke,” he says, sounding cowed. “I will right now. Well, when his office opens. No, I’ll call and leave a message right now.”

She nods, caressing the back of his neck with her fingers. “Please do. You’re worth the whole world to me, Rick Castle.”

“I - I do know. I do. I just... get trapped in my head sometimes.”

“I know the feeling,” she chuckles softly, another kiss at his jaw. She also knows kisses and words won’t do the work; he has to want to do it, has to keep going to the therapist even when it’s dark and scary. “You haven’t been sleeping, the nightmares, you haven’t been writing - well until now-”

“Three sentences,” he grumbles.

“I haven’t been here, last few weeks, because of this task force, so I’m not sure you’ve even eaten-”

“Cheetos,” he admits with a sigh.

“And peanut butter,” she remembers. One night crawling into bed, the jar on the night stand. “I haven’t been paying attention because I bury myself in work, I combat my darkness with overtime. But I’m cheating you, and I’m sorry, so sorry-”

“I’m not trying to kill myself,” he grumbles.

“I know,” she promises. “But you are the world to me. Asking for space was dumb, and it’s not what I’m doing now. Don’t dwell there, Rick, when we both know better. You are the world to me. My whole amazing beautiful goofy world. My dreams come true.”

He grunts and digs his chin into the muscle at her neck. “Sometimes you have damn good words.”

She grins, relief easing the knot in her lungs just enough to let her breathe again. “Good, you must be rubbing off on me.” He’s still buried in her neck, squeezing hard, and she combs her fingers through his hair, holding onto him. “I’ve had my own darknesses, Rick, and you’ve walked me right through them. I’m not going anywhere. I may be walking a few steps ahead of you, but it’s only to lure you forward.”

“You’re a damn fine carrot.”

She laughs, feeling a lot better now, a lot better, oh God, the truth of those lines and how real it felt. “Don’t you forget that.”

“I’m calling Burke now.”

She hands him her phone.

-----

(If you or someone you love is dealing with depression or suicidal thoughts, if you’re unable to articulate your feelings or cutting in order to feel, please please ask for help. Any adult. Ask any ADULT for help. No one thinks less of you. No one will turn you away. It might take some time to get the right kind of help, it might be frustrating, a long road, it might come back on you later, but you are worth it.)

[hallyudoinchica]

Return To The Garden Ch. 1

No Jimmy or Robert or Jim in this chapter. Just a little backstory and set up in a sense. Future chapters might just around in the timeline. Might end up tweaking this chapter later still.

Hope you guys like it!

April 1957

Garden of Allah Hotel 8152 Sunset Boulevard Hollywood, California.

Ixchel honey! Alma dear! Climb up here on the bed girls. Let’s see what the cards have in store for us today.” Ida called from her place under the covers, propped up against numerous pillows laid against the headboard. She was a regal looking woman, with pale skin, rosy cheeks, dressed in silk and lace, bringing to mind someone like Lillian Gish, Mary Pickford, Evelyn Nesbit, or Norma Talmadge. A Gibson Girl come to life, now in repose. Like a Gibson Girl, she had her long graying reddish brown curls pinned back, only the odd kiss of faint rose left shining through the silver of her hair. Despite her stately elegance the puckish smile that alighted her features alluded to a sparkling personality that was maybe a little less Mary Pickford sugary sweetness and more Clara Bow playful sass. This was furthered by her perfectly manicured nails which were filed into an oval shape, painted blood red except for the little crescent moon slivers near her cuticle which were left unpainted.

She leant over to the side & reached into the drawer of her night table pulling out her special card deck waiting for the two little girls she was looking after to make their way over. One was tall, tanned, and slim, a willowy little thing that seemed to float everywhere, her long, straight black hair following her like a cape fluttering in the wind. The other smaller girl, equally as tanned, while having a fluidity of motion had an energy behind it that was less rippling stream and more raging river or crashing waves. She rolled around the room going from drawing on a notepad on Ida’s vanity, to turning on the radio & squealing when she heard the strains of Elvis Presley’s new single “All Shook Up” coming from the speakers, beginning to spin & bounce about, her mass of waves & curls bouncing around in time. But when her name was called she dutifully scampered in Ida’s direction, immediately forgetting her little one woman dance party.

Ixchel, the taller and elder of the two girls, recently having turned 8, was the first to make her way over to Ida, perching herself carefully on the edge of the bed, before straightening her dress, looking as if she had just drifted into position. While Alma the shorter and younger at age 5, clambered up onto the bed, crawling into her place in the center on all fours not caring that after her little impromptu performance her hair was tousled, curls slightly mussed, or that her dress was a bit rumpled, her skirt was askew or that in her cat-cat-like crawling her little rear was in the air.  Once nestled comfortably in between the two Alma watched with Ixchel peering over her shoulder as Ida untied the ribbon wrapped around the cards & held them out to the two of them. “Who goes first?”

Alma raised her hand but then hesitated slightly, opening the door for Ixchel to take the cards. “I will.”

“Alright, dear.” Ida smiled relinquishing the deck to the young girl. Meanwhile Alma bided her time waiting for her turn by busying herself with the box of chocolates she had found on Ida’s night table. Busy little fingers laying waste to the wrappers before plopping the little rounded squares into her mouth. “But before I set things up and have you draw what would you like the reading to focus on? Shall we make this reading about anything in particular? Love? Career? Just general future or general advice?“

Ixchel took another moment’s pause before answering simply. “Love. Future love.”

“Well now! All right.” Ida nodded with a surprised smile. “Any set up in mind? 3 card? 5 card? 10? Or would you like to draw 2 and have me read the connection between?”

“Connection sounds fun.” Ixchel then started shuffling the cards as she was taught to do in previous readings. She focused her mind on the future of her love life while cutting the deck in the way Ida instructed her two and drew her two cards.

Her two: Ace of Wands. Knight of Cups.

Ida’s smile widened into a Cheshire cat state, prompting two choruses of, “What? What is it Ida?”

A red lacquered nail tapped the place where the cards met & explained. “This is very interesting. These two cards denote that you will come across your future love in a chance meeting. This chance meeting will evolve into a passionate affair. Intense. Very auspicious my little, Ixchel.”

Ixchel nodded thoughtfully trying to ignore the blush creeping over her cheeks at the sounds of the words “passionate love affair.” She then reached over to the table on her side grabbing her glass of water & taking a drink, trying to combat her throat which suddenly went dry. Licking her lips, she then asked in a tiny voice. “Can I ask the cards how I might meet them? Is that possible? Can I, Nanny Ida?”

“It’s possible, dear. Anything is possible. I can tell you that first hand.” Ida nodded & motioned to the deck. “Cut.“

Ixchel shuffled the deck again, pulling two cards from the center & turning them face up.

The two: The Moon. Three of Cups.

Ida’s smile brightened. “Very fitting for you, Ixchel. This symbolizes creative friends or art exhibitions of some sort. Though when the words “art exhibitions” are used usually one is likely to think only of paintings or drawings or photographs of the like it could also be used more loosely. At least in my opinion. I mean when you think about it a concert, dance performance, recital, vaudeville, broadway theatre, opera or a book reading is just as much an exhibition of art is it not?“

“Yes, Nanny Ida.” Ixchel nodded thoughtfully. She then gathered the deck and passed them to the younger girl next to her. “Your turn, sis.”

“Wait!” Alma held her hands up, refusing the deck. “Wait! Hold on, Ixxy.” She promptly went about cleaning the sticky chocolate from her fingers, licking her lips, wiping her hands clean with a napkin. Ida clicked her tongue and chuckled, running another napkin over the sticky smudges around the perimeter of her mouth that her fingers and tongue had missed before moving the box away and back to the table. Then getting the all clear from Ida she took up the deck and shuffled it soundly with the sudden announcement. “I want mines to be about love too!” Then focusing all her little energies as she hovered her hand over the deck she let her fingers be drawn to two cards which she then placed face up.

Her two: Six of Wands. The Lovers.

Ida just broke out into laughter clapping her hands at this. Alma  mimicked this in a slow clap of her own, her little brow furrowed , head tilted in confusion. Ida saw this along with the similar confused head tilt coming from Ixchel. She leaned over and embraced the two of them before wiping her eyes and explaining. “I’m sorry, honeys. I’m sorry. I just love this. I love that the cards have given the two of you girls such bright futures.”

“Bright?” The two young girls asked in unison.

Ida nodded. “Yes, honeys. Bright. The two of these cards together denote success in love. It’s likely you’ll find and fall in love with the one. I’m so happy for you two!” Another hug. And then the question. “Wanna shuffle again & find out how? How you might meet him.”

Alma nodded & returned the cards to the deck, shuffling and once again hovering her hand over the cards until she felt compelled to pull two. The two she pulled?

The Moon and The Three of Cups.

This set Ida into another fit of laughter this time joined by the girls at the sheer oddity of it all.

“You would pick those two, love. It’s perfect! Again! Just too fitting! Maybe you two will meet them in the same circle?” The two girls shrugged, looked at each other meeting each other’s eyes with a smile before nodding, chorusing. “Maybe.”

“Say, you know what? Funny enough I had the craziest dream last night. One of my visions I think. And it was about you two and your futures, love life and all. Wanna hear?”

Alma and Ixchel knew Ida well. Her and her tarot cards. Her astrology charts. Her bibliomancy. Her visions. They tended to be dead on. She had even read Alma’s mom Lorena about her love life, telling her that her future love might also lie in creative circles, but this time the cards were different. Instead of also being The Moon & The Three of Cups they were cards that led Ida to advise her that her love might be find in literary circles. Indeed her now current beau, Jonathan Harcourt was one of the heirs to a large publishing house. He came on the scene trying to woo Ida to allow him and his family to publish her life story - which he had heard stories about from friends of the family. Back in her day Ida had burned bright as anything - as any star - the world had ever seen as a chorus girl and “It girl” dancing her way around the US and all over Europe during the 20s and 30s. Ziegfeld’s Follies from the inside out. Jazz Age Paris. Weimar Berlin and all the culture found there in the days pre-Hitler. The Harlem Renaissance. She had seen it all. And she had made her mark on every part of it. Everyone back then knew of Ida, or as she was known then “Imelda Iantha”.

It just so happened that while Jonathan was trying to woo Ida into compiling her memoirs, he also ended up falling for Lorena and he found himself wooing her in the more traditionally romantic sense. Lorena was charmed by him just as Ida was, especially with how genuinely good he was with her closest friends and support system Ida, Ixchel’s mom Luz-Maria, the girls, especially her Alma. Sure there were gifts for her and toys for the girls and daytrips and all. But he also seemed intent on building a genuine connection with them. Her visions panned out. The cards struck again.

So the girls were all too eager and ready to hear what Ida herself felt was in store for them. And so Ida began. “Well I was studying your girls’ charts again last night and I guess they must’ve affected me. Because as I studied your charts and how they related to you two girls I started to get a sense. Like for you Ixchel. You’re a double Pisces. Pisces Sun. Pisces Moon. Double water. But with an Aquarius Venus. That sounds like water & but it’s actually an air sign. That means as I’ve told you before that you’re more likely to be in tune with your emotions, a dreamer, sentimental, a soft heart, imaginative, given to fantasies and daydreams. Your Virgo Ascendant might give you the need or craving for order and stability in your life. It, along with your Mars in Libra, also might lead to you be a bit reflective and introspective, and lead to you being described as being a bit shy, reserved or understated unless you’re comfortable and feel at home or among friends which is when your Pisces expressiveness comes out. You even have a Mercury in Pisces to thank for this.”

“That’s Ixxy alright!” Alma grinned, nudging the elder who nudged back making her giggle.

Ida nodded as well, before continuing. “But the Virgo Ascendant. That’s why you’re so composed even for such a young girl. Naturally this can carry into affairs of the heart. But the Aquarius comes in to say that just as much as you’d like to fall in a spellbinding romance, you cannot feel like you are bound too much yourself, you also need your freedom. You value your freedom, your uniqueness and whatever sets you apart and makes you out of the ordinary and different from others. Your whole chart speaks for you being someone who values home and stability but needs to experience & have her freedom, creativity, and to be stimulated mentally.”

Ixchel nodded thoughtfully, Ida’s words clearly hitting home. But what really captured her attention the most was what Ida had in store for her next.

“And upon meditating later on I got one of my visions. Ixchel, I was come upon with a vision as to the type of person you might fall for in the future. The type of person you might like to to look for later on for when you’d like to start looking for that special someone.” Ixchel sat upright and nodded, hanging on Ida’s every word, leading her to continue. “My little Ixchel, when the time comes you might like to look for a wanderer with a soft heart. Someone with a gentle, sensitivity to them, a rawness. In my vision they had blue eyes. A blue eyed wanderer with a soft heart that you can relate to and travel with. That will tie love and freedom very well for you. He will understand your need for it and relate very well.”

Ixchel nodded with a bright smile slowly curving her lips, she crawled closer & hugged the older woman. “That makes absolute sense! Perfect sense! Thank you, Nanny Ida!”

“You’re welcome, dear. Anytime.” Ida gave the girl a warm squeeze back, regarding the younger and still slightly rumpled one as she pulled back. “And you my little wild child. You have quite the special someone in store for you yourself!”

Alma snorted with laughter,Ixchel giggling as well as Alma responded. “What? Don’t tell me he has blue eyes too. Don’t tell me Ixxy and I go after the same guy just because we got the same cards!”

Ida just chuckled. “No, dear. I don’t get that feeling at all from the cards, the charts, or my vision. I think you’re safe from that.”

“Good! I’m glad.” Alma nodded triumphantly, crossing her arms and leaning back onto the pillows with a satisfied smile.

“However!” Ida raised a manicured finger, pulling both girls attentions her way. “Your chart also spoke to me in my vision.”

Two voices raised a single question in unison. “What did it say?”

“You my dear Alma as I’ve also told you before have a Sun in Scorpio, a Moon and Ascendant in Taurus, Mercury in Sagittarius Mars in Virgo, and Venus in Libra. Your Scorpio sun though a water sign gives you an intensity you’d typically expect of a fire sign. You are determined, driven, courageous and nothing if not willful. You can also be described as maybe a little rebellious at times or defiant.”

“That’s Alma alright!” Ixchel laughed and mimicked the younger, nudging her and also earning a laugh and another nudge back.

“You have an inquisitive mind about almost anything and everything. Like Ixchel, that includes anything magical or supernatural. You also have amazing capabilities to bounce back from defeat.

But your Taurus Moon and Ascendant lie in the sign directly opposite Scorpio. This gives you extra dose of drive and willpower and even stubbornness just through it being Taurus the Bull. It steadies you and gives you your love of pretty things, comfort and home and security, the feeling of being safe. The feeling of being safe and being home is very important to you. But the fact that it is opposite your Sun sign may give you a tendency towards scattered energies. Hence your supposed wildness.”

Ida tempered this warning by reaching out and tousling Alma’s curls, ruffling them even more and earning a giggle from the small child. “Right now it’s just you being a child and carefree as you should be. It’s mostly later where it can trouble you. You can be indecisive, always wondering “What if…” You even run the chance of projecting a view of yourself that doesn’t match who you really are. Not lying or willfully deceiving and trying to put up a front. Like a fake face. But maybe a wall. Like making sure only those you deem worthy or reliable in. Or if you are ever hurt by something you might be likely to retreat into your shell or a place you deem a safe haven, like home.”

She leant in to hug both girls. “I hope you’re not hurt. I hope you girls will never be hurt.” Both girls hugged back tightly, as she kissed the tops of their heads before relinquishing them and continuing. “Your supposed wildness can also be attributed to your Mars in Virgo which is liable to give you a nervous or even slightly fidgety disposition if you ever feel idle. You too need to be stimulated mentally and creatively. There’s a hint of restlessness to your nature.” To this Alma nodded emphatically, her black curls bouncing. Ida had hit the mark yet again.

“And as for love, you need someone with refined sensibilities. Anyone too rough, abrasive, boorish, uncouth or heavy-handed need not apply. Matter of fact they likely only make your skin crawl.” The full body shudder she received from the little girl only furthered the point that she had hit her target dead on. She couldn’t help but chuckle at the display as she added. “You need someone to be gentle with you. Careful. To treat you kindly and fairly with your Venus being in Libra the sign of Scales. Meaning balance. You need someone to stimulate you mentally and creatively as well. You adore creativity and the arts.” She cast her eyes over to the little notepad on the vanity that Alma used as a drawing pad. It was filled with her childish scribbles, scrawls and creatures and scenes that only the impish little 5 year old could think up and bring forth. “So it’d make sense for you and Ixchel to meet them in creative or artistic circles as the cards showed.”

Alma followed Ida’s line of sight to the notebook, also thereby following her train of thought. She nodded and watched with rapt attention as Ida took a deep breath. “And as for my vision, my dear.” Alma’s toes curled as she gave another nod. “You might want to be on the lookout for someone who is a bit of a romantic stereotype in a sense.” There went Alma’s confused little head tilt, prompting Ida to explain. “By that I mean, “tall, dark and handsome”. That stereotype. I saw someone tall, dark, and handsome for you. Possibly… Almost definitely I feel… With Irish coloring. With a rosiness to them.”

“So, Nanny Ida… What you’re saying is if…” Ixchel started before trading off every few words with Alma.

“If in the future me and Ixxy run in artistic circles…”

“And we meet a “blue eyed wanderer with a gentleness, rawness, a sensitivity to them & a soft heart…"”

“And a “tall, dark, handsome romantic walking stereotype with Irish coloring or a rosiness to them…"”

Ida nodded, leaning back onto her pillows, crossing her arms with an enigmatic smile that still had shades of a Clara Bow proud impishness to it. “You could do worse than giving them a shot, loves. When the time is right of course…”

[thehiddensemicolon]

Kacchako fanfic: New Prey Chapter 12

~~~few days later ~~~ He did everything to avoid her. . . . He didn't see her after or during school. He didn't answer any of her texts or calls. He was avoided seeing her in the dorms. He would walk past her, when she confronts him. . . It hurt him. . And he took out his pain to everyone. Of course he was still number one. But he wasn't himself. Of course being the type of girl Uraraka is. She pretends everything is fine. A fake-yet real smile is all it took to say "she is fine". He knew she was faking it. But as one day avoiding her turn into three days. He is starting to believe she is happy. He knows she isn't but he also isn't confident. Of course their relationship was the only subject with his classmates. But they knew better than to ask him. He was fast to threaten them. He feels like shit. He never gave Uraraka a reason. Never told her why he is acting cold to her. Why he is being a jerk to her all of a sudden. He isn't stupid. He notices her puffy sad eyes. He notices her smile isn't the same. He notices her laugh is low and uncharacteristic. She doesn't need me. As soon as she figures it out, she will be glad I did this. I am not the fucking guy for her. He thought. He was walking back to his room, after a long day of denial. "Why?" A voice almost yelled. Bakugou looked behind him and saw the person. "Why did you do it Kacchan! How can you just toss Uraraka to the side like a pebble being kicked off a road! Do you know how sad she is? Well I don't... she won't even talk about it to anyone. NO ONE! She is in pain.. but I know it is because of you!" Deku said. In any other situation. He would have been scared or nervous to talk to Kacchan. But today. He was mad. Bakugou's vein popped out his forehead. "Listen here you fucking shit. Why the fuck do you think you can fucking talk to me. You worthless piece of shit. Get the fuck out of my view." He growled. "NO! Not today. I won't be provoked by you Kacchan! Answer me. What did you do to her. Why did you just get rid of her. Like she didn't mean anything to you." Deku raised his voice. "Tch. You don't know anything scum! Get your fucking  nose out of my business bitch." Bakugou's palms began making explosions. "Was it her? Was she not good enough for you? Was that it huh? Uraraka is an amazing girl. I.. I admit that I was jealous that you two were dating.. but I am also happy that she was happy. And now she is SAD. All because of a jerk like you! A jerk that didn't deserve her!" Deku said. He gulped at the last part he said. Bakugou surprising took a step back. His eyes widened. Deku realized how unhero like he sounded just now and looked down. "Maybe I said that a little rude.. I didn't mean the last part... but am still mad that you just got rid of her. What happened? Talk to me Kacchan!" Deku responded. "You don't know shit Deku! How dare you come here accusing me of shit you don't even fucking know about!" Katsuki defended. "Was it her. Did she bore you or something. She is a funny, nice, giggly, strong girl. I personally don't see how she can possibly bore anyone! Is that why?" Deku questioned. He was eager. He was upset that his best friend was upset. Steam was coming out of Bakugou. He looked beyond pissed. His red strong eyes looked hurt and weak. "ARGHHH NO! SHE IS FUCKING PERFECT DEKU. THATS WHY I ENDED US." Bakugou accidentally slipped his words into the argument. Deku looked shocked. He had a questionable look on his face. "So because she was perfect.. you broke up with her?" Deku looked at him, for the first time ever, that the explosion guy in front of him  was the stupid one. "Duh." Is the response Bakugou gave him. Midoriya was still shocked at the answer Bakugou gave him. He didn't even notice When Bakugou went inside his room. What kind of answer is that? Why is being perfect a bad thing? Deku questioned. He walked away confused. ~~~ Bakugou's room~~~ Fuckin worthless pile of shit Deku. Like hell he would fucking understand any shit! He thought. Bakugou stood in his room, looking at outside his window. To his surprise he saw Uraraka in her room.  She was crying. He closed the curtains of his window and punched his lamp on his desk. It fell and broke. Fuck. Damn Angel Face is fucking crying. He thought. ~~~ the next day ~~~ "Everyone change into your costumes. We leave for the bus in 20 min. That is all." Aizawa said. The students looked surprised. The students ask around with the same confused questions. Was today going to be a field day? What are they going to do? Hands on activity wasn't on the syllabus. After every one changed. They were forming single file lines to enter the bus (all because of their great class representative.) They took their seats and much to Bakugou's surprise he was right in front of Uraraka. Of fucking course.Bakugou thought. Uraraka looked straight up. Never loosing her composure. Bakugou looked the other way. "Yes I know this isn't in the syllabus. So stop complaining. A hero often work in situations that are not planned that is life so get over it. Today we will be "defeating villains". Of course not real villains. They are going to be programmed dummies. Some high level dummies will be programmed with villains combat capabilities so be careful. Not every dummy will be weak. Just like how every villain in real life isn't weak. Like any newcomer just entering the hero field, they are required to be formed in pairs of two. So will you today. Pick anyone to be partners with. That is all." Aizawa announced. "Jirou what do you say." Kaminari brought out his hand to her. "Psh. You know it. Our quirks are compatible with each other." Jirou shook his hand with confidence. "Why don't we pair up Midoriya. I can use my tongue to capture the dummies and throw it your way for you can use your quirk to destroy it." Tsuyu said. "Wow I didn't think about that. It would be easier. My quirk is more of a physical contact component. Sure let's pair up." Deku said. "Despite your motives with girls. I believe we should team up Mineta. If you can use your quirk to immobilize our opponents. I can give a quick knockout kicks. We would be a great team." Iida said. "I guess but your not a girl." Mineta said. "Right I am not a girl. But every girl besides Uraraka is taken." Iida said. Mineta squeaked. Not because of Uraraka. She is gorgeous. It's just to him, Uraraka means Bakugou's ex. He doesn't want to die by a jealous monester. "Say no more partner!" Mineta squealed. Teaming up with someone compatible with my quirk. Fuck. The only two that can handle my quirk is Kirishima and Uraraka. Kirishima can handle my quirk in battle. So I wouldn't have to worry about partner being injured by me. Uraraka... Uraraka can make the enemies float and I can set explosions in the air. Their will be no collateral damage and I wouldn't have to worry about any casualties on the ground level. Bakugou thought. He saw Kirishima. Kirishima looked at Bakugou and shock his head and pointed to Uraraka. Bakugou gave him a death glare. Kirishima walked up to him. "I know what your planning. You know that there is either me or Uraraka that can handle your quirk. For different reasons. But as your friend. You should make up with her. Even if your not dating. You can just be friends. Am not giving you an option. I'll pair up with someone else." Kirishima said and quickly left. Bakugou was pissed. Fuck him! Thinking he can tell me what to do. Uraraka can work with almost anyone. It's my fucking quirk that not everyone can handle. Fuck. He thought. "Bakugou." Uraraka said. He looked at her and his mouth went shut. "I know that things aren't the same between us. But let's put that aside for today. Let's team up. Kirishima is taken and you don't really have that many options regarding who can handle your destructiveness." She said. "Do what you want." Bakugou said. Teams are: Hagakure and Ojiro Jirou and Kaminari Midoriya and Tsuyu Sero and Ashido Momo and Shoto Shoji and Tokoyami Iida and Mineta Bakugou and Uraraka Kirishima and Aoyama Sato and Koda The bus stopped and they finally get out the bus. They are at the Forrest. "Okay. Stand by your partner. In one hour the dummies will be activated. Don't worry about it acting up. If any partner is really struggling with it, then we will deactivate the dummy remotely. Okay in terms of this activity. Your goal is to take out as many villains as possible. As well as saving "civilians" which will also be dummies. The villain dummies will be red and the civilian dummies will be blue. There will be cameras in the dummies to record the teams that either save or destroy the two different dummies. That's how points will be recorded. You have 24 hours to save or destroy as many dummies. Oh yeah, the civilian dummies are placed by villains. So if you attack or accidentally hit them. You will be disqualified. A hero job is to protect civilians with no casualties. " Aizawa said. "When you save a dummy. The examiners can see through the Cameras will decide whether you have saved or prevent damage to the dummies. When the dummies flash a green light that means you successfully saved it." He added. "The rules seem clear enough." Iida said. "Yes it does. Let's to our best Tsuyu." Deku said. Tsuyu smiled. "Okay everyone spread out in different locations. In one hour the dummies will be released so I suggest spreading out. During the hour strategize your plan of attack. Find regions that support your quirks. A red light will be released in the sky when the dummies are activated." Aizawa said. The teams started to move out. "Let's go." Bakugou said. The two left. ~~~during the one hour prep time ~~~ The walk was quite. Not an uncomfortable quite. Just silent. "So we doing a saboteur formation I assume." Uraraka said. "Yeah you are on the ground making as many villains float in the air as possible. It will be easier to explode them in the air. For we can avoid accidentally hitting the civilian dummies." Bakugou said. "Got it." She responded. "Sooo, how have you been." She said. "How I fucking been? What the fuck is that fucking question. Am the same as fucking ever." Bakugou said. "I see, will that's good." She said. Even though he is walking in front of her. He can sense the awkward aura. "Bakugou look. Let's just put our past aside us. It's better this way. I don't want to be a distraction okay. So let's just forget about it." She stopped walking. Bakugou stopped walking as well. He was shocked by what she said. He wasn't gunna lie. What she said is what he wanted her to say, but he was hurt she said it. She wants to fucking throw away our past. If only it was that fucking easy. I wouldn't be constantly feeling pain and fucking regret, if it was that fucking easy. He thought. "I mean. You must have had your reasons for breaking up with me. And whatever reasons you had, I hope it helps you be number one. " she said. She was sad but gave a small hurt smile. Bakugou turned to see her. But I am fucking still number one dammit. Even what we were fucking dating. Nothing changed dammit. The only fucking thing that changed is how fucking miserable I've been. I did this for the long run. Now she can find an idiot to give her what she wants. A fucking happy life. He thought. "You didn't do anything wrong." He said. "Huh?" She said. She looked confused. He stared at her for a long time and turned the other way to continue walking. "I broke up with you, because I was thinking about the future dammit." He said. "The future?" She said. "Yes." He said. "What about it was so wrong to scare you." She said. He continued to walk in silence. She nervously touched her fingers. "Am sorry I shouldn't be questioning you right now. Not right before this activity. It's just been what i was thinking about the most lately." Uraraka said. "Alright let's do our best Bakugou." She said. Bakugou felt the same feeling in his chest. His heart pounding fast. Just like when they first started to date. He hated how he was feeling this way. It was only making it harder for himself. It was like this pink cheek girl constantly had him within her gravitational pull. No matter how much he tried to distance himself from her. He always feels connected. He hated it. All of a sudden the red light appeared in the sky. The dummies are activated.

[seriouslyhooked]

False Alarms (A CS AU) Part 1/?

Modern AU where Emma is a Boston police detective and Killian is firefighter. They both get called to a fire in progress but it ends up being a false alarm, however there can be no denying the sparks between them. Includes fluff and my usual attempts at humor as well as a touch of fake-dating and meddling friends. Inspired by the song ‘False Alarm’ by Motoma and Becky Hill. Rated M for future chapters.

Also on Fanfiction Here.

A/N: Hey all! So today has not been a great day for me and as such I figured it was as good a time as any to get started on a new story that can distract me with fluff. Since way back when in the sweet summertime I’ve had a few people ask me for stories with Killian as a firefighter and I think I’ve finally stumbled on the exact story I want to write with that element. I hope you’ll all enjoy and thanks for reading!

“Are you going to finish that?” Emma looked up from the slice of pizza that was inches from her mouth to her best friend and partner Ruby.

From anyone else a question like this would be unexpected, but Emma and Ruby went way back and Emma was hardly surprised by Ruby’s quirks anymore. They’d met years ago in the academy training to be good police, and since day one Ruby had made two things very clear. The first was that she would take no shit from anyone ever. Superior, peer, friendly neighborhood witness, or perp, it did not matter. Ruby Lucas would not stand to be disrespected. And the second thing was that she never wasted food and she was never too full to pass up a meal or try and scrounge from someone else.

“You mean the pizza I’m currently in the middle of eating? Yeah I was thinking about it.” Ruby sighed dramatically.

“Fine. I’ll go order another slice from Tiny, but you owe me.”

Emma laughed and shook her head at the statement. Obviously she owed Ruby nothing but it was still funny that Ruby would say so, and if her slightly delusional friend wanted to pretend that there was some injustice in Emma’s finishing her own pizza, she wouldn’t stand in her way. Besides, it should make a more interesting rest of their shift, which had been quiet so far and was over in a few more hours.

“Just be quick about it. We’re back on in ten,” Emma reminded and Ruby scoffed.

“Oh please. I’ve got this.”

Emma knew that Ruby did beyond the shadow of a doubt, but this was their thing. They bantered back and forth like this in downtime and then shifted into a different gear when the chips were actually down. It helped combat the stresses of their job and this system was what kept them working as well as they did as both friends and partners.

Ruby and Emma had been assigned together officially for two years now (ever since they both passed the detective’s exam), and they worked to be the best of the best in their precinct and beyond. They’re number of solved cases was higher than nearly everyone else, and their records were impressive for any member of the force, never mind two cops as young as the two of them. They put in more overtime than anyone, helped out in any case they could, but they both knew when to walk away and how to tell when their partner was getting in too deep. More than anything Emma and Ruby had each other’s backs and that was what made their partnership so successful.

Part of that drive to be better than the rest was because there weren’t that many other women amongst their peers, but most of it came down to personality. Both Emma and Ruby loved this city and they cared about the people who lived in it. That passion was what kept them going day in and day out, through good times and bad. It wasn’t about keeping spotless reputations and earning good marks from their superiors at the end of the day, but about doing the best that they could with the situations they were given.

But sometimes the situations were less than ideal, like right now when the shrill ringing of Emma’s phone designated for the precinct cut through the pizza shop. Before Emma could so much as answer, Ruby let out a groan from the counter. If they were getting a call on this phone, there was a good chance that their twenty-minute break was about to be cut short.

“This is Emma.” The sigh of relief that came through the phone indicated immediately that the person calling was their desk sergeant Leroy.

“Emma, glad I caught you. We’ve got a situation on the corner of Elm and Washington. I know you’re off, but Reynolds and Bryant-,”

“Have about as much charisma as a wet blanket and as much sense as two frat boys on Greek Week. Yeah I know. We’re on it.” Emma waved Ruby to the door and her friend immediately moved with her, but tossed out a little bit of sass for good measure.

“We are so not on it,” Ruby muttered from beside her and after rolling her eyes, Emma handed her partner the rest of her pizza. “Okay now we’re on it.”

“So what’s going on?” Emma asked Leroy and the man proceeded to fill them in.

Apparently two patrolmen in the area had stumbled upon a hysterical old woman claiming that someone was trying to burn her apartment complex down. They immediately dispatched for Fire Rescue when they saw smoke and station sixty-one was en route. The patrolmen were in pursuit of the offender at that moment, but since Emma and Ruby were off the clock, and their dispatch radio was in their car, they’d missed the call for backup blowing up their feed.

“Great – dealing with some crazy arsonist. That’s exactly how I pictured my Friday going.”

“Ruby!” Emma said, chastising her friend’s laid-back attitude about this. Arson was no joke, and worst of all it was almost impossible to prove unless you caught the person in the act. This was serious and underneath the sarcasm Ruby knew that.

“What? I’m just saying. It’s like the Universe knows we’ve got our first weekend off in months and wants the whole thing sabotaged by paperwork and a citywide manhunt.”

“Now you’re just jumping to conclusions,” Emma replied though she could relate to Ruby’s frustrations on some level.

“I’m imagining possible scenarios. Detective 101 – be prepared for anything.”

“That’s the boy scouts, Ruby.” Her friend considered Emma from across the car and looked doubtful.

“Eh I think that was us first. I’ll ask your Mom next time I see her.”

Emma ignored the comment, trying not to think about her mother as they pulled up to the scene, which despite Leroy’s claims seemed relatively calm. There were two fire trucks out here and a number of firefighters to go with them, but not a one of them was racing into the building at top speed, and the two patrolmen standing outside looked annoyed rather than scared of having let a perp get away.

“Oh this is going to be good,” Ruby said. She was practically giddy at what was coming, and Emma could sense just as Ruby could that this was about to be a huge waste of time.

“Detectives – we’re sorry you got called in on this. It’s a false alarm. An old lady saw smoke on her fire escape but it was just her drunk grandson trying to cook a burger.” Emma put her hands on her hips and shook her head, silently wondering why people thought that was a good idea ever, never mind in the middle of winter.

“Of course it is,” Ruby replied before whispering to Emma. “We’re getting lunch reimbursed for this, you know that right?” Emma smirked but pressed on, trying to be professional.

“Well false alarm or not, we got called in, we have to see for ourselves. Where’s the woman who filed the complaint?”

“She’s inside again, probably throttling her grandson. She’s scrappy that one, when she’s not shrieking at the top of her lungs that is.” Ruby barked out a laugh as the patrolmen gave Emma the rest of the details and signaled for Emma to take the lead.

“After you, partner.”

Emma moved past Ruby through the door and up the stairwell, aiming to get to apartment 3C as fast as she could. The sooner they squared this away, the sooner they could move onto something that mattered again and get to that lovely and long overdue free weekend. Yet as they ascended the stairwell, Emma realized that might not be entirely possible given the firefighters moving down the stairwell at the same time that immediately caught Ruby’s eyes.

“Well hello,” Ruby whispered under her breath low enough so only Emma heard.

“Detective Nolan.” The friendly greeting and gentlemanly tip of a firefighter hat came from Graham Huntsman, a man Emma had known for years. She rolled her eyes at his excessive display. They were friends after all, and she didn’t need the feigned gallantry from her friends.

“Lieutenant. Anything we should know about this on your end?”

“Scarlet made an ass of himself with the ladder. Other than that, just your standard Friday afternoon shenanigans.”

Emma smiled (knowing Will Scarlet well enough to believe Graham’s account) and then noticed Graham’s eyes as they flicked to Ruby. His interest was clear and immediately on display for all to see, Ruby included. Emma had to give him credit though; Graham held back way longer then most guys did and he wasn’t openly ogling her friend, just looking a little longingly at her. Emma decided to throw him a bone for remaining cool when so many others didn’t.

“You remember my partner, Ruby Lucas.”

“We’ve met, yeah.” Ruby tilted her head slightly and pretended to search his features. Emma could read through the ruse immediately, but to anyone else she would appear totally sincere.

“Have we? Huh, go figure. Anyway, Emma, we should go. Don’t want any loose ends on this one.” Ruby offered a polite smile to Graham and then warmer ones to the men beside him as she ushered Emma up the steps with little more than a brief goodbye. When they’d made it to the third floor Emma looked for answers.

“What was that about?” Ruby grinned and immediately looked like the cat that caught the canary and Emma’s suspicions that her best friend was up to something were confirmed.

“Payback. Last time we ‘met’ he didn’t ask for my number.” Emma’s jaw dropped, but she regained her composure fast.

“Ruby we were all working a case.”

“Right, and the second that case was over he should have asked you for those digits.” Emma laughed at the phrasing, knowing that even if it felt ridiculous to her (as someone who never let her professional and personal lives intersect) for Ruby this was totally normal thinking.

“Seriously?” Ruby smirked.

“Just wait. Ten bucks says you get a call by the end of the night and then I get a week’s worth of groveling before I finally let him take me out.”

Emma knew better than to bet against Ruby on something like this, so instead of doing so she knocked on the door to the apartment of the woman who’d thought there was a fire in the first place. There was yelling going on through the doorway but it was too muffled to make out the words. It faded as soon as Emma’s knuckles rapped at the hard wood and seconds later the door opened to reveal a very small old woman. When she made eye contact with Emma and then Ruby her bothered expression immediately looked contrite and apologetic and her voice went up an octave into sweet old-lady territory.

“You must be the detectives. I can’t begin to tell ya how sorry I am. My grandson doesn’t mean to be a nitwit, he just hasn’t got a single brain cell in that thick skull of his.” The kindness she’d extended to Emma and Ruby shifted back to frustration as she turned around and shook her fist in his direction.

“A lot of men have that problem, ma’am. We just have to ask a few questions and make sure everything’s all clear for paper work and such. You understand,” Ruby offered.

“Oh honey, I do. I used to work at the state house as a clerk and I’ve always said that if there’s a God, there will be no paperwork past the pearly gates.”

Emma appreciated that the woman was so amiable to their questions. Sometimes they got saddled with problematic witnesses, but this woman was charming in that typical Boston way. She was brash and she said what she was thinking, but Emma knew deep down she had a good heart and loved her grandson. It was, as expected, a pretty routine false alarm, but as Ruby took notes on the situation, Emma asked to check out the fire escape itself. When she got the all clear to do so she moved to the window and shimmied it open before slipping outside and walking into an unexpected wall.

“Easy there, love.”

Oh shit! That voice was enough to make Emma a little week in the knees, and between the accent and the rumble in his chest that she was still flush against Emma felt this energy and simultaneous comfort she’d never experienced. It was… intriguing, and something she had a hard time moving away from but after a second Emma stepped back and her eyes flicked up to the man who’d uttered those three simple words. When her gaze met his her heart skipped almost painfully.

There were very few moments when Emma felt thrown in the line of duty or in life at all. She prided herself on being strong and stable, unshakeable even in the most trying of times, but right now she was anything but. Her heart was pounding, her mouth had suddenly gone dry, and her mind was racing a mile a minute, talking about how no man had a right to look this good and in a fireman’s outfit to boot.

With dark hair and more than the shadow of a beard, he wasn’t rugged per se, but manly and strong. She felt this kind of magnetic presence being so close to him but it wasn’t threatening to anything except maybe her self-control. She’d met a lot of good looking guys in her life, hell she’d been surrounded by cops and firefighters since she was a little kid, but there was something so different about this guy, this stranger with arresting blue eyes that held hers captive for just a beat too long.

“Apologies, love. I wasn’t expecting you.” Emma blinked and regained her composure, trying her best not to do something stupid like blush as she did.

“You’re new.” The man smiled, with one corner of his mouth tipping up to one side and he shuffled his gear around to extend his hand in greeting.

“Killian Jones at your service.”

Emma glanced at his hand and wondered if this guy was for real. Then she remembered that he was probably too new to realize who she was and why this was a no go. Once he did connect the dots he’d pull back she was sure, but for now Emma had this need she couldn’t quite explain. She wanted to go along with this feeling, even though it went against her M.O. entirely. So she gave him her hand in return and felt a rush of warmth when they made contact. She was shocked and a little overwhelmed, but it was clear that her new acquaintance was right there with her. Killian had no poker face at all, and she watched his wave of shock and then something like hunger before eventually pulling back and trying to put some of her professional walls back up.

“You realize sergeants don’t usually do this part right? No matter how new you are there’s got to be some low man on the ladder to hand this off to.”

Killian (God even his freaking name was hot) grinned and ran a hand through his hair, which was so dark and just a little too long to be strictly appropriate for the firehouse. Emma balled her fingers into a fist to stifle the crazy and ridiculous itch she had to see how it felt under her fingertips.

“Their set up wasn’t up to code. I thought I’d help them out so in case there’s ever an actual emergency, they can get out safely.” Emma looked over to where Killian gestured and saw that there were some newer bolts in the ladder now. She wondered how he’d even had the materials on hand to do this kind deed but decided to deflect from her being impressed at his caring.

“Hero complex?” Emma asked and Killian looked confused.

“I’m sorry?”

“Some guys get one in your line of work. They think they can save everyone and that they’re the only ones who can. They take on too much alone and it messes with their heads.”

Emma didn’t think Killian was that kind of guy (not that she could provide a real reason why past him not looking like a raging narcissist) but she wanted to see how he would handle her in interrogation mode. Most people cowered when she did this, but he stayed calm and didn’t flinch in the slightest. It was an incredible turn on.

“Well those men are fools. Some people can’t be saved… and some people don’t need to be. They’ve got it handled themselves.” Emma couldn’t help but think that last part was meant for her, but before she could ask him about his reasons behind the charged statement, Ruby appeared in the window.

“Emma if you fell down the fire escape I swear -,”

Ruby stopped short when she saw that Emma wasn’t alone and after half a second of surprise she started sporting a familiar grin. Emma tried to harden herself to Killian before it was too late but it was useless; Ruby knew something was up and that guaranteed her being a huge pain in Emma’s ass for a good long time. She was never going to live this down (because for years she’d been stressing no warm, fuzzy feelings on a case no mater what), and now her only hope was to bail and fast before Ruby caused a scene, or worse, flirted on Emma’s behalf.

“I’m all set here. You good Ruby?” Her friend looked from Killian who she was ogling openly to Emma and saw her seriousness. Thankfully Ruby took pity on her and nodded.

“All clear here.”

Ruby threw her one last smirk and then ducked back inside but as Emma turned to go she felt Killian’s hand at her wrist. It wasn’t a harsh hold in any way, and her body reveled in that same spark that had been there before, but she felt a wave of trepidation. Looking at him again was going to be fantastic and terrifying all at once. Still Emma had to be strong and so she faced him head on with what she hoped was a firm gaze.

“Did you need something?” she asked and Killian smiled softly at her. Instantly she felt bad for the edge she’d just had in her voice.

“Just to say thank you.” Emma’s brow furrowed.

“For what?” He let go of her hand and stepped backwards, heading towards the ladder of the fire escape with entirely too much swagger for a mortal, ordinary man.

“Usually a false alarm would be tedious. Today has been anything but.”

Emma ducked her chin in a bit, breaking eye contact and feeling like a freaking teenager under the intensity of his blue gaze. The worst part was he was being totally honest. Killian had game, yes, but he wasn’t a liar and that made the thrill that went through Emma so much harder to regret. There were sirens going off in her head saying that he was trouble and a threat to the way she had always conducted herself on the force, but the attraction between them was somehow stronger and this weird sense of trust was already there between them, muting her internal warning bells enough for her to try and say goodbye.

“Right. Well, I guess I’ll see you around.” She offered casually and he dropped all the cockiness to look at her sincerely.

“I hope so, Emma.”

Before she could make more of a fool out of herself, Emma moved back inside and shut the window, pausing when she did to catch her breath and get herself together. She let herself linger on the feelings that had fluttered through her chest when he said her name like that, and she wished that they could stay because it felt so right. Killian felt so right, but for what Emma couldn’t say, and it definitely was not the time to be having an internal dialogue about hot guys in the workplace. When she turned back around and saw Ruby with a shit-eating grin on her face she jumped, another very unusual thing for Emma.

“Don’t start.” Emma warned as they moved out of the apartment and back through the stairwell.

“I didn’t say anything!” Ruby offered with her hands up.

“You were going to.” Ruby laughed at Emma’s assessment.

“I am going to. I’m just going to wait until we’re not surrounded by dreamy guys who made you blush.” Emma turned to her friend and pointed a finger her way.

“I did not blush!”

“Oh honey, you so totally did. But shh, or Sergeant Sexy is going to hear you.” They were back outside moving to their car and there, just as Ruby expected, was Killian standing by his truck with some of the other guys from the firehouse. Their eyes caught again and he offered her a friendly wave that Emma returned as Ruby chuckled beside her.

“Ooo girl, you’re in trouble,” she whispered and Emma heard the niggling voice in the back of her mind saying that yeah, she very well might be.

……………

Every firehouse Killian had ever belonged to had a local spot – a pub or a bar that the crew frequented after a long shift or in times of celebration. Boston’s sixty-first was no different, but there was something to be said for this hole in the wall they called their home away from home.

It might not be pretty or particularly nice, but the feel inside of JR’s Tavern was perfect in Killian’s mind. There was that necessary combination of mutual respect between his firehouse mates and the rest of the clientele, but there was also a line drawn. Killian could already see that on their worst days (days that were always coming down the pike in this line of work) they’d find some sort of peace here. It wasn’t filled with nosey busy bodies, but people trying to go about their business. This was a welcome relief for Killian, who’d struggled with that in past assignments.

This new position, however, was bound to be different than all his ones before. For one thing he was a sergeant now, and that in itself was an adjustment. New expectations, new procedures, they were all factors in his blending in with a new squad, but Killian was a quick study and more than anything he had the experience both back in London and in New York where he’d been the last few years.

Killian also prided himself on staying up to date on the science in his job, jumping at the chance for any extra training and for any extra classes he could enroll in. The hope for all of that extra work was that he might someday learn something that could keep all the men and women he worked with alive. Every day they all got home safe was a win, and every day that they helped the people they were sworn to serve was one too. That didn’t mean he thought himself a hero, just a man with a code trying to better people’s lives when and how he could.

Killian couldn’t help but smile as the memory of that detective this afternoon bluntly asking him if he had a hero complex ran through his mind. She was a force of nature, and all it took was one second in her company for Killian to feel more alive than he had in years. Not even the rush of being amongst the lick of flames in a five-alarm blaze compared to the sensation he’d had out there on the fire escape, but she – Emma – was anything but predictable. Like an inferno with no clear source, she’d keep him guessing and clawing for answers, he was certain.

For one thing she was all together too beautiful for his sanity. She’d tried to tone it down slightly (no doubt in the hopes of appearing more professional and competent) but anyone who would doubt that woman after meeting her was a fool. She wore her abilities on her sleeve and practically radiated capability. Nothing escaped her notice in the moments that they’d been out there together, and though there were tiny glimpses of something more vulnerable between them, and even a few wondrous moments of could-be flirting, Emma was largely the dominating force between the pair of them.

Killian meanwhile stood there perilously close to openly gaping at her. He’d largely avoided any sort of emotional attachments as of late, hating the effects that the demands of his job had in any relationship. He’d seen the tolls it took on the men and women that his fellow fighters loved and their families and Killian reasoned there was no one he’d ever want to put through that. Still as he looked in those curious and brilliant jade colored eye’s of Emma’s and noticed the fullness of her lips and the silkiness of the hair she’d tied back, he found thoughts he’d long ago discarded rushing to the surface. Thoughts about staking a claim and convincing Emma that he was more than an adrenaline junky with a need to put out fires. For her, honestly, Killian could be anything she damn well wanted.

“Oi, Killian!”

Killian glanced up to see his old friend Will Scarlet, another member of the sixty-first and the man who’d put him up for the job here to begin with. He was a British expat too who’d already assimilated to this city after a few years on the force. Will was also the self-proclaimed funny man on the squad but Killian knew that underneath that excess of humor was a fiercely loyal and determined man. Will had fallen into this field because of personal tragedy, but he didn’t let it define him. He worked hard to live each day like it was his last, doing his best at work and then living each moment outside of that with the fullness it deserved.

“Aye?”

“You gonna say something? We can’t drink until you do, mate.” Killian noticed that the others on the squad were looking at him expectantly with their beers in hand. All of them had been incredibly welcoming so far and he grinned and cleared his throat not wanting to let them down.

“Right. Well I guess I’ll say thank you all for the drink and I doubt it will be the last you all buy me.” Everyone laughed at the jest and Killian sobered some to continue on. “Honestly I appreciate the openness you all have and your quickness to accept someone new like myself. It’s an honor to be among you, and I plan to prove my worth to you all before long. You all have my word that I will do my best by this house and this city. To sixty-one.”

“To sixty-one!” They all chorused back and took their drinks before letting out a cheer.

It was only about half of the house right now, for the others were on shift, but Killian had already made a pact with the bartender that a tab would be started in his name and that every fighter who wasn’t here tonight would still get a drink on him as his new buddies beside him would be getting one. It was customary back home, and felt only right to Killian to bring that tradition over here.

“Rough luck that all you got to see this week was routine drills and a false alarm,” one of the younger fighters on the ladder named Gus said and Killian shook his head offering a small smile and his own thoughts.

“Depends how you look at it. Might have been a false alarm but we all came back home.”

Gus nodded thoughtfully, and Killian knew the headspace that younger firefighters often had. They were hungry for the action, mostly because they’d yet to have any of the real trauma to could go with it. He didn’t fault Gus, however, and Killian honestly hoped Gus never lost that mentality, and that the younger man never lost a person in this job to take away that drive to fight fires every day.

“I’ll take a false alarm every hour of every damn day if we get cops like that responding. That Detective Lucas is something, huh?”

Will whistled in appreciation and then got a punch in the arm from one of the few women in the firehouse who everyone lovingly called Tink. She was small by any standard, but she was tough as nails and a fighter through and through. Killian had instantly taken a liking to her, and her silently but forcefully reprimanding Will for the comments now only solidified that more. Will winced and rubbed his arm after she made contact as Graham growled out a reply that was unexpected.

“In your dreams, Scarlet.” Killian wasn’t used to any sort of dark emotion from Graham. The lieutenant was kind and mostly quiet if a bit more serious than most of the others. This felt hostile though, but Will laughed all the same.

“No Graham, in yours. What are you waiting for on that anyway? You should have locked her down months ago when you had the chance.” Graham stared at his phone and blatantly ignored Will’s jest so Killian took the opportunity to divert attention for Graham’s sake and to get the information he himself had been wanting all day without seeming too suspicious.

“And what of her partner?”

“Oh you mean Emma?”  Killian nodded, trying to give off an air of not really caring even though he was desperate for more information on her. “She’s a looker for sure with brass balls to match and a stubborn streak that knows no end, but she’s off-limits.”

Killian raised a brow at Will’s words but everyone around seemed to agree with him. This was strange to Killian and he felt a need to know why anyone thought that was the case, because the idea of not pursuing Emma weighed on him like a ton of bricks. Then the worst-case scenario flashed into his mind:

“Is she married?” It hurt to even consider that possibility, and there had definitely been no ring on the lady’s finger today when he checked, though Killian knew of some cops who took them off in the line of duty. Firefighters did the same thing, though Killian couldn’t help thinking he wouldn’t want to if he’d finally married a woman he truly loved.

“Ha! That’s rich. No, mate, Emma Nolan is definitely not married. I doubt the woman’s ever dated given her parents. They’re not exactly the most accessible, easy to impress people.”

“Her parents?” Killian asked, confused. Why would a grown woman’s parents play into this in the slightest? And why did that last name sound slightly familiar?

“Yeah her parents. Her Mum’s the police superintendent and her Dad’s the district chief.” Fuck!

“Our district chief?” Killian asked after choking a bit on his beer and Will nodded.

“The very same.”

Bloody hell! Well that was a bit of a problem wasn’t it? Though Killian couldn’t help thinking that it wasn’t enough to keep him from wanting her. With another woman he’d have taken the hit and walked away, but the idea of not seeing Emma again or feeling that same rush of warmth that came when he’d taken her hand today cut him to the core. He had never been the kind of man to cut and run when he felt strongly, and there was simply nothing that compared to meeting her today. He had to see her again.

“Before she was made detective people called her the princess. They said her parents were like some sort of Boston bureaucratic royalty and she was just their legacy getting preferential treatment.”

Graham offered the intel like it was nothing at all, but Killian’s fingers clenched around his glass, his anger rising. He hated the thought that Emma was judged for something she couldn’t help. Hell, he barely even knew the woman, but he knew in his heart she hadn’t deserved that kind of response from her peers. She was exceptional. Why couldn’t they see that?

“But something changed?” Killian asked, hoping for some resolution other than Emma’s being maligned unfairly.

“Yeah it did. Emma told every last asshole who said that shit where they could shove it, and then made detective at a younger age than any other person in her district. She’s kind of my hero,” Tink said jovially before waving the bartender over for another drink.

Killian grinned at that, knowing without doubt that Emma could handle herself. It bothered him that people had judged her, but it made him weirdly proud that she’d handled herself. Not that he had anything to do with it, but he liked knowing that Emma was strong enough to speak her mind and push back when other’s wanted to box her in. That wasn’t an easy feat for anyone, but it only proved to Killian what he already suspected – Emma Nolan was special.

“Well Tink, you can be sure to tell her all about it at that bloody gala we’ve all got next week. Remind me again why we’re going to that?” Graham snickered into his beer as Killian replied.

“Because it’s sixty-one’s turn to represent this year… and because there’s an open bar and decent food.” Will looked merrier already.

“Well I’ll drink to that!”

The crew laughed at the frivolity of Will’s wants and wishes, but the night passed pleasantly from there on out, and for Killian there was a new form of hope: because now he knew there was a moment coming when he’d see Emma again, and he had a few days yet to figure out exactly how to show her there was something between them worth exploring no matter what might stand in their way.

Post-Note: So there we have it. I want to thank my lovely readers who asked for this kind of story. It’s different then the other stuff I’m writing, which is always good for my muse. It will also likely be a little shorter than my typical stories, but I promise it will pack the usual smuffy goodness my others always aim for. Anyway let me know what you guys think and thank you all for reading!

[our-workis-never-over]

Top 10 Least Favorite Pokemon

Coming up with my 10 favorite Pokemon is a ridiculously difficult task. I love so many Pokemon and it’s very hard to feel satisfied with any of my ranking choices past top 3 (and even then that’s a difficult decision). Coming up with my 10 least favorite is also challenging, but for the opposite reason: There aren’t that many Pokemon that I dislike, let alone hate. But I figured that this would be the easier of the two to try, so I’m tackling this one first.

Right off the bat, dishonorable mention goes out to Darkrai. I hate sets that do nothing but Dark Void everything, but otherwise he’s actually kinda cool.

10. Beautifly

I don’t like Beautifly because of Dustox. Really, that’s it. I don’t hate Beautifly (in fact, I have very little opinion of it), but Beautifly makes the list because I think Dustox outclasses it in every way: more diverse movepool, better design, better typing IMO. I have fond memories of Dustox being the star of my team in my first Platinum run. Beautifly is just lame to me.

9. Mega Salamence and Mega Rayquaza

Yes, yes, this is a tie. I don’t like having ties on these sorts of lists unless the 2+ entries are related, but here, I feel it’s justified because both of these Pokemon make the list for the same reason: My horrible experiences dealing with them on Battle Spot (M-Ray primarily for ORAS, M-Sal primarily for SM). Unless I had a speedy Pokemon with a damn powerful Ice-type move on my hands, my chances of winning against these two were pretty much naught.

What saves Mega Rayquaza from landing higher on the list is because of a funny moment in a battle I had with my cousin. He had his Mega Rayquaza out and I had my Machamp. He used Fly (instead of Dragon Ascent, for some reason) and during the charge-up turn, Machamp used Ice Punch (keep in mind, he had No Guard), hit the Mega Rayquaza mid-flight and froze it right then and there. I had constructed that particular team specifically to combat Mega Rayquaza, so that felt really good to me.

Mega Salamence is saved because recently I’ve started bringing a Mega Metagross with Ice Punch to deal with it. It may be kind of below me to join them considering I couldn’t beat them, but I’ve begun to see quite a bit of Primal Groudons and Mega Mewtwo Ys, so I’ll need to figure out a way to deal with them.

tl;dr: Both seemed like uncompetitive messes when first introduced, but I’ve since learned to tame the beats. Doesn’t rid me of the sour tastes they’ve left behind, though.

8. Noivern

What can I really say about Noivern? He’s just...really forgettable to me. Seriously, I don’t think I even remember this thing existing until 2015. It’s an anomaly to me. I have two competitive Noiverns, one Choice Specs and one Assault Vest, and I have no clue how I got either of them. I think Noibat is a cute Pokemon, but I have no opinion on Noivern because most of the time I forget it even exists.

7. Palossand

Okay, now this shit list is going somewhere. All of the entries before hand are Pokemon that either I dislike or simply do not like. Palossand is the first entry that I truly hate.

Disclaimer: I do NOT hate it because it’s an inanimate object Pokemon. I happen to like most of the inanimate object Pokemon, and in Palossand’s case in particular, it’s justified because it’s a Ghost-type. What makes me despise this thing is because of this thing’s reception. From the moment it was revealed until now, I couldn’t wrap my mind around a fanbase that would bash Vanilluxe and Klingklang for being ice cream and cogs, respectively, would turn around and defend Palossand. I understand defending things like Exeggcute and Voltorb, because nostalgia gets in the way. Palossand seems to defy the “people hate change” mentality that literally everyone displays at one point or another.

Make a long story short, I hate Palossand because of the overwhelming support it got upon reveal despite other object Pokemon being subject to bashing to this day.

Also, it’s not called Sandghastle. What the fuck, English translation team?

6. Bronzor

Remember back in the day when Steel actually resisted Ghost and Dark? Boy am I glad that’s changed. Back in Platinum, this and its evolution Bronzong were abundant in trainer fight (I’m pretty sure Team Galactic had most of them). First of all, they are bulky as hell, so you need either a Fire-type or a Ground-type to hit them. Except, maybe not; these guys can have either Heatproof or Levitate as an ability, so they can either lessen the impact of one weakness or completely negate the other! Most of them will have had Levitate if I’m not mistaken, so your best bet was to use a Fire-type, but there weren’t that many Fire-types in DP (only Infernape and Rapidash. Infernape wasn’t a great option because it’s Fighting-type and Fighting’s weak to Psychic) and the roster didn’t get improved very much with Platinum (only Flareon, Magmortar and Houndoom--whom we’ll get to later--are added to the table). Bronzor is more of a pain in the ass than it ever deserves to be. The only reason Bronzong is saved from the shame is because I wasn’t forced to face as many.

5. Krookodile

You know, I can’t help but find it fitting that Dark is a very polarizing type. Either I love them or I hate them, there is no in-between. In this case, all but one of the following Pokemon on this list are Dark-type.

Krookodile is one of those Pokemon I like to refer to as “bitch Pokemon,” ones that poor spectacularly when they’re up against me, but at the same time completely fail when their on my side of the field. I tried to train a Sandile up in one of my fifth generation playthroughs and it just kept fainting and fainting over and over again. I did manage to get a couple of levels out of it, but never enough to get it to evolve. With that, I quickly boxed it, leaving it to live the rest of its days in the PC (until it was eventually nuked when I started a new file).

During that run and in quite a number of battles since, Krookodile has consistently given a hard time and left a sour taste in my mouth. One particularly salty moment was during that 5v6 Ubers battle I did. My Electivire landed an Ice Punch, brought it down to ~1/3 health, and got the freeze only for Krookodile to thaw out immediately after and OHKOed Electivire, rendering the freeze pointless. I did win that battle in the end, but I just never felt good about Krookodile.

It doesn’t help when I ran into AuSLove.TV on Wonder Trade and got a Shiny one from him.

4. Alolan Persian

I had high hopes for this thing. During my first run of Sun version (and my second run of SM overall), I trained up an Alolan Persian on my team. I expected it to be a speedy, physical attacker and so I tried training it up as such. Could you blame me? Regular Persian is a physical attacker and most of Alolan Persian’s level-up moveset is physical. Near the end of my run, my Persian was underperforming, so I did a quick check on Bulbapedia just so I could figure out what I’m working with. What I found disappointed me greatly.

First of all, Alolan Persian’s greatest stat aside from speed is Special Attack. Not helping that fact is that it only learns three special moves naturally, the only STAB move of which comes at LEVEL 69. Sure, it learns plenty of special moves by TM, but so does Bisharp, so that’s not a good argument.

Basically, I don’t like Alolan Persian because I was deceived by it. Fitting for a Dark-type to do, but its underperformance led it to be mid-40s while everyone else was climbing past early-50s. Once I caught Solgaleo, I quickly boxed Persian and haven’t used it since. I can forgive Alolan Persian for its silly design, but I can’t forgive it for how lackluster it really is.

3. Houndoom

Remember why I hated Krookodile? Most of that same reasoning applies here, except this guy was even closer to evolving. See, I found my first Houndour at either Lv. 23 or 24 in Platinum version. I thought it would be cool to train up, plus I could use a Fire-type for my team. When I went to train it, it fainted to literally everything. I’m not joking. Even when I moved out from the route where Geodudes and Gravelers were commonplace, Houndour still fainted to everything it didn’t resist. Wondering if were even worth it to keep trying with this guy, I ultimately boxed him. One Bulbapedia search later revealed that had I continued, Houndour would have evolved should I’ve leveled him up one time. Needless to say, I was pissed.

Eventually, I started playing HeartGold version. To make a very long story short, Houndoom is another “bitch Pokemon” and is the sole reason I’ve hated Elite Four Karen for a little while.

I haven’t seen this guy much in competitive at all (as in, no one I’ve faced since XY has used one), so all I can say about his Mega is that the design is a missed opportunity. They could have gone with the hellhound Ceberus, but no. They just gave him some armor. Like Beautifly before, that’s just really lame.

2. Mandibuzz

Back when I was big into collecting the cards, my cousin traded me his Mandibuzz card. A couple of days later, his dad (my uncle) calls my mom and she tells me that this cousin wants his Mandibuzz card back. I tried to tell her that we negotiated and I got this card fair and square, but she was having none of it and forced me to give the card back to my cousin for nothing in return. I was pretty pissed about this display of immaturity and have never been able to forget it. I’m not an avid collector anymore (and I never played the TCG to begin with), but Mandibuzz still occupies a bitter place in my heart.

Also this thing is a nightmare to face in competitive battling. I haven’t had much luck with it myself, but I haven’t performed so badly with it that I’d call it a “bitch Pokemon.”

1. Swellow

My hatred for this thing all stems from my first run of AlphaSapphire version. It was the fight against Winona. She led off with her Swellow, I’m pretty sure I led with my Bisharp (long story). The first few turns, she kept spamming Double Team over and over again so I could never hit it. I remember sitting there helpless because I had no way of raising my accuracy. All I could do is waste PP while this thing widdles away my HP with Aerial Ace of all things.

Let me say that again: Swellow got to +6 Evasion and began rubbing it in my face by now spamming a move that could never miss.

This ugly bastard wiped out my entire team at least once through sheer dumb luck and I had to over prepare just for this thing. I was able to beat it eventually, but that was just maniacal how difficult that was. On the bright side, I have not had a significant encounter with Swellow since that fateful day with Winona, but that one day left quite the nasty mark.