#and Mr compress feels so bad for them that he releases them and talks to them about surrounding themselves with better people 💀

[moodyvoid]

I wonder how many times Mr. Compress used the “sawed in half” trick to swindle people out of their money by threatening not to put them back together lmao

Or he’s made one of their loved ones disappear (they were marbled) and was like “Hmm. I believe I can bring them back for $1000.”

They’re like, “I don’t have $1000.”

Mr. Compress is like, “We can set up a payment plan.”

[bbq-hawks-wings]

Chapter 316: BBQ is capable of critiquing BNHA and… Oh boy.

Let's start this off properly, Horikoshi's typical quality of writing has been diminishing in recent chapters, but this week it was so different that it didn't even feel like Horikoshi was the one who wrote it.

To be clear, I'm not blaming Horikoshi for the issues I'm about to bring up. The man is criminally overworked, usually doesn't even get the final say in what makes it in the final drafts, and even in his other rough patches he's still produced decent chapters that hold up amongst the grand scheme of things. This feels like something else is going on behind the scenes, and while I have my suspicions on who/what might be the culprit behind it, I choose not to share it at this time because if I name names some people might go off on a crusade, and that's not what I want.

I just want to be clear that I'm not blindly firing off shots in the dark, but despite my frustrations I want to wait to see if this gets resolved down the line, and while I do I can complain about the specific reasons this chapter left such a bitter taste in my mouth.

Buckle up, buttercups, because we got a lot of points to cover.

Where's the Gun?

Not a literal gun, but I mean Chekhov's Gun. It has always been a staple of Horikoshi's writing and the reason so many of his long-standing plot lines have paid off so well.

Chekhov's Gun is a writing principal that if you see a gun on the table in the first act of a play, it will be used in the murder that happens in act 2. Basically, the author should include details that are relevant to the story and not betray the audience by leading them in one direction and at the last minute pull the rug out from underneath them to go in another direction.

Horikoshi has done this to phenomenal success in the past. Just as one example, he dropped hints about Nomu being human experiments early in the series but held off explicitly stating it for a while. He hinted at the loss of Shirakumo in the main narrative and that he was important to Aizawa and Mic as well as approved it for Vigilantes so when it was revealed that Kurogiri was Shirakumo's body, not only did it narratively make sense but it also pulled in Eraserhead and Present Mic's emotional stakes into the battle with the Doctor, and then when Ujiko reveals he was after Aizawa's quirk the whole time it made the payoff for Mic punching him in the face all that much better and brings the weight of his crimes and the impact they have on the victims full circle.

That's 3 different guns paying off in the long run: the Nomu, Shirakumo, and both Mic and Eraserheads' personal arcs past the loss of their childhood friend and that they could finally finish processing their grief and avenge him in full righteous fury instead of chalking it all up to cruel chance.

He has left details, some particularly innocuously, in plot lines like the Touya Todoroki reveal, Hawks' backstory, Shigaraki's blood connection to Nana Shimura, even with Mr. Compress's backstory, and more. When re-read, these details become more obvious and usually leaves us with a greater sense of satisfaction in the plot knowing that twists and turns were not only planned, but built up to and hinted at for us to find so the payoff is that much better and it feels purposeful instead of just shock factor.

None of that happened this chapter.

Lady Nagant has zero business being in this plotline. She was never hinted about before this arc, and her existence does nothing to tell us about the plot moving forward or the world that they're trying to change. Nothing her existence provides actually has any bearing on the universe or tells us anything we don't already know. But that's not how she was presented.

In the beginning we're given a glimpse of her helping Overhaul escape from Tartarus. The focus on her was odd enough to begin with as a new character, and the fact that she didn't look like she fit the profile of someone who belonged in Tartarus was like a flashing neon sign saying, "Pay attention! This new character is important!!!" She then shows up later with Overhaul in hand to attack Deku out of the blue. We get her talking about how she thought Overhaul might be useful and her disillusions with Hero Society. We catch her mannerisms with eery similarity to Hawks only to find out immediately after she was a senior colleague in the HPSC. Never once to my knowledge has Hawks referred to any of his senior colleagues as a "senpai" - not even his fellow heroes - and when he catches her in midair, he uses the words, "Don't die on me, senpai!" as if she's near and dear to his heart.

The entire character arc is set up for her to have known about Hawks and grapple with her desire to help people and her fear of re-creating what she hated, and this also set up Hawks to be the successor who succeeded where she failed and helped bring her to a place where she could be a hero without guilt again. What actually happened?

They're strangers.

They have never actually met before, and while he seems to know a lot about her, she doesn't even seem to have any idea of who he was - at least as far as being another hero under the thumb of the HPSC. So ALLLL that setup, all that gesturing, and all of the potential themes that would be right at home in an arc like this goes completely out the window.

Her story doesn't tell us anything new. The HPSC bad. We knew that. They're not above throwing innocents under the bus to achieve that goal. We knew that. They preyed upon young hopefuls with powerful quirks with the intent to maintain the status quo. We knew that even if the fact that Hawks isn't the only one now makes more questions than answers. We know that these young heroes can never say no under threat of steep, life-shattering consequences. We knew that already.

So what does Lady Nagant even bring to the table?! The entire "you're just a puppet doing what you've been told" angle is a little tired and out of place in this point and time with actual anarchy in the streets (not to mention hypocritical considering she was a blind puppet following orders and offers zero actual solutions that supposedly fall in line with her heroic nature), and it could have been left to any number of other villain characters who could have executed on the theme better - you know, like Shigaraki who's justification this entire time has been, "hero society doesn't make people safe, it just makes them feel safe" from the moment of his inception.

So from that angle she's unnecessary.

Her presence messes with the continuity of the series as well. If Hawks is supposed to explicitly replace her, that would mean that he wasn't just a fluke find on the commission's part and grabbed to mold into their own special superweapon; and that also would mean that her killing of the former president was before he was discovered which should put her at least in her forties. If this isn't the case, and he was meant to simply replace her in a "special agent" case, that still begs the question of how many more gifted children the commission preyed upon and are still out there.

And maybe the worst kicker for me is that something stinks. The way the art in this chapter is presented, if you completely blanked out the speech bubbles, is the same setup I had before - Hawks reaches out to his former mentor and pulls her from the brink of despair with a moving message about why he never gave up hope in being a hero who could actually make a difference.

Again, this is not what we got. He claims he knows her, and it's implied to have been a deep, personal character witness; but at best he only knows about her from secondhand sources. Even his reasoning as to how he never lost hope doesn't vibe with his character.

We have gotten so many cool one-liners for Hawks, but there has always been a consistent tone and imagery with them.

"Those who can fly, should."

"I don't belong in a cage."

"I'm free of my shackles."

"Can I be a shining light, just like him?"

What we got was, "I'm an optimist to a fault" which was the wording the official release went with and was by far the best iteration I have seen, but even this falls short of being truly in character for him and answering her question properly.

@mikeana made an edit of the titular panels for us Hawks stans this week with dialogue we and a few other friends felt was more fitting not only with the imagery of the chapter itself but internally consistent with the specific expressions Hawks uses in his heartfelt, personal dialogue. I just tweaked it a little bit more to fit what I was going for in our original conversation.

Which brings me to another concern.

2. What's the point?

There was no use for Nagant in the series as she's been presented so far. But more than that, Hawks has no business in this fight to begin with. He literally did nothing to earn this emotional moment, and this should have been Deku's moment.

We were teased in an interview with Horikoshi that Hawks was going to get a special moment as an important end-game character as a "shining light" of hope for others to follow as well as promises for Ochako to have another moment in the spotlight to make a difference.

If this was Hawks' shining light moment, it wasn't necessary, and it does nothing to move the plot forward or develop characters in any true or believable way. It just happened because plot. This should have been Deku's victory through and through, and even he is the reason BOTH Hawks and Nagant made it out alive instead of painting the street below them.

Deku's victory was stolen from him, too. It sours the other promises made to us about other characters moving forward, as well, if this really was Hawks' "Shining Light" moment.

By the way, did you forget about Overhaul? Me too!!! What was the point of getting our hopes up about reintroducing this beloved character with the implications this was a major arc setup to have him scream about pops and then get detained with no clues about what's going to happen to him besides, "Say you're sorry to Eri, and you get to see pops"?!

All this posturing and clumsy narrative flailing only actually succeeded in getting Deku in front of AFO again for plot when we already know Mr. Potato Head could summon, show himself to, or find Deku at any time he wanted. But instead we get this time skip with a bunch of heroes completely mended walking into a big, spooky mansion for AFO to evil monologue at Deku for… *counts*

FOUR PAGES!!!

Only to then give him the "I want YOU!" point over a pre-recorded message and the final nail in the coffin to me that something is off.

3. Ex-pu-LOOOO-SHUN!

It's become almost a game among friends to count how many explosions have happened since the end of the war arc - and specifically fake-out explosions. In the end of 311 we get All Might's car attacked via explosion and Deku cornered by Nagant only for All Might to be fine in the next chapter. In 315 Lady Nagant herself explodes in a blaze of glory to once again not be dead.

Gee! I wOnDeR if aLl the heroes were AcTuAlLy cornered and KiLlEd in that explosion in the mansion!

None of us do. They're fine. We're going to see it first thing next week. The shock has worn off, and it's repetitive and annoying at this point. There is no cliffhanger despite how the framing might try to tell you otherwise.

It's BAD WRITING.

The writing has been moving far too quickly and clumsily with no explanation in sight, and even character interactions are being cut short to the point of them being meaningless and empty.

This doesn't even feel like Horikoshi's bad writing. It feels like someone else is trying to call the shots and rushing him through these final bits of the series, and he's run out of things he's previously set up for months and months to reappear so someone is trying to get Dabi-reveal levels of attention with arcs and storylines that don't have the build-up to result in a satisfactory payoff.

4. At least it can get better... I hope.

Maybe those who share my suspicions or know what particular suspicions I have are with me in believing that this is a temporary disappointment and we haven't seen the last of the writing that's captivated me for years. I don't blame Horikoshi for these glaring faults that all came to a head in this chapter.

It CAN get better later, and I think it WILL- we just probably are going to have to wait for it. Until then, I'm going to enjoy the Hawks panels we got, maybe edit the last few chapters to be more in line with something more like the BNHA I know in a "fix it fic" fashion so I don't groan in anticipation of how long it might take us to get there.

See you all next week, hopefully on a much brighter note.

[x-ladyathena-x]

Who We Were

(also on my AO3 & Wattpad under the name: Grey_Eyed_Athena)

Warnings: Smut, like dirty smut. Don’t read if you’re under 18. Angst, some fluff, enemies to lovers

Bucky x Reader

Word count: 2460

Summary: (one shot) You're an employee at Captain America's family fishing business. When a handsome stranger with a metal arm appears out of the blue, tensions rise.

You were a mutant working for Captain America’s family fishing business. It was a slow day today in the marina store, you hadn’t had a customer in hours. So, you sat with your feet propped up on the counter, reading from an old magazine with crinkled pages.

“Ahem,” a deep voice cleared their throat to get your attention.

You peered over the top of your magazine slightly annoyed.

“I’m looking for Sam Wilson.”

The man was tall, with short dark hair, and tragedy etched into every line of his beautiful face. The type of look people get when they’ve seen horrible things that they’ll never truly be free of.

He looked familiar but you couldn’t quite place him until you noticed his arm. At first, you thought it was a dark compression sleeve, but now you realized that this was the Winter Soldier you were talking to.

You called Sam on the phone, “Hey, Boss, there’s an Avenger here to see you.”

Sam groaned on the other end of the phone, “Which one?”

You didn’t know if it would be rude to call the man in front of you Winter Soldier to his face. That was the name Hydra gave him.

“The quiet one with the metal arm.”

Sam groaned again, “Bring him down.”

You hung up the phone and turned back to the man, “Follow me.”

The two of you walked past the register and into the back hallway. At the end of the hall, you both squeezed into a small service elevator that led to the lower levels. Sam liked to keep his office out of plain sight.

Inside the elevator, the two of you were nearly touching shoulders. It was a little awkward, so you decided to make small talk.

“How did you lose your arm?”

In truth, you didn’t know. You knew exactly who this man was but nothing much about him. You knew he’d renounced Hydra, joined the Avengers and fought Thanos. Everything that could be read in the media.

You, yourself, were one of the lucky?—or unlucky few who were not snapped and left to wander the earth in confusion and fear.

He ignored your question.

The elevator dinged open and the two of you stepped out.

“It’s pretty, your arm. The black and gold.”

He didn’t say anything, just glanced at you.

“What brings you here Mr. Barnes?”

“Bucky,” he corrected you.

“Oh, that’s right. Sorry. That’s what Captain America called you, right? That’s what Steve Rod—”

He slammed you up against the wall, holding you by the neck with his metal arm, “Do not ever mention that name to me.”

At first, you were scared, shocked even, but then you got mad. You slipped your foot behind his heel and knock him off balance. He wasn’t expecting it.

He fell flat on his back and you crouched over him with a fist full of his shirt, and got down in his face, nose to nose, “You ever do that again and we’re gonna have a problem, okay?”

He nodded with resignation.

You patted him roughly on the cheek, “Good, now come on,” You got up off him and began walking away, “The boss’s office is right up here.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The woman was strong, he’d give her that. He supposed that he should feel bad that he grabbed her like that, but when she said Steve’s name, he just—he couldn’t think about him right now. Thinking about his old friend made him go to a dark place. He couldn’t blame Steve for what he did, where he went. After an entire lifetime of being the most selfless, self-sacrificing human alive, he deserved to make a selfish decision for himself. It still hurt though. The only person that ever loved him for who he was—was gone. And hearing his best friend’s name come out of the mouth of someone like her? Well, what did she know? She didn’t deserve to speak his name.

She showed him Sam’s office and turned to leave without another word. Bucky watched her walk away as he stood at Sam’s office door. Despite himself, he couldn’t help but admire her (your body type) body as she walked away.

“You’re drooling, Buck.”

Bucky snapped out of his daze to see Sam Wilson smirking at him from inside the office. His red, white, and blue vibranium shield displayed proudly on the wall.

“Good to see you, Cap,” Bucky smiled.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You sat back in your chair up front. It was a quiet day, the off season. Not many people coming in to buy bait and tackle. As you tried to go back to reading your magazine, your fingers trailed over the place on your neck the Winter Soldier’s fingers had wrapped around.

You say Winter Soldier, because the eyes that were looking back at you as he had you pinned against the wall were not those of Bucky Barnes.

A shiver ran over you and you couldn’t help but press your legs together.

You thought about the cold metal. The whirring noise the plates made as they locked into place. The scent coming off him—he smelled like a cold winter’s night. Like pine and wood smoke.

You shook your head. Get a grip y/n. You still stood by what you told him down there. If he got aggressive with you again, the two of you would have a problem.

Maybe you wanted a problem.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“So, what brings you here, Buck?” Sam asked the man seated across from him.

“Mutants,” Bucky said gravely, “Hydra sleeper cells that still believe in the cause, lying in wait. I was just in Prague last week and got attacked by two of them. At first, I thought super soldiers, but no, they had abilities.”

Sam sighed, “Well, you’re not gonna like what I’m about to tell you, then.”

Sam launched into the story of how he was in Europe a month ago, helping investigate odd claims. That’s when he learned of the mutants. While there were many that operated as Bucky described, the majority were refugees, seeking asylum from those that would use them for their powers. Not unlike their friend Wanda and what Hydra did to her.

“That’s when I met y/n.” Sam said.

Bucky’s blood ran cold at the thought of the woman upstairs, “How do you know she’s not a sleeper?”

“Because I trust her,” Sam told him, “There’s still good in people in the world, Buck. Even if you don’t see it.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You were dreaming tonight. Dreaming of the man with the metal arm. The Winter Soldier. Bucky. Dreaming of the way he smelled. Dreaming of his weight on top of you—wait.

You awoke with a jolt to find Bucky Barnes, the Winter Soldier pinning you down into your mattress with a knife against your throat.

In your panic, you moved with strength not previously explored. Your hand wrapped around his wrist, pulling the knife away from your neck. Your legs wrapped around his waist as you used the leverage to flip him over.

He was a large man. Burly and heavily muscled with broad shoulders, thick arms, and even thicker thighs. But your mutant strength, along with your adrenaline-fueled panic allowed you to flip him with ease.

You now sat atop him, straddling his waist. The knife in your hand, holding it to his throat.

He looked shocked. There was also something else in his eyes you couldn’t quite place. Not the Winter Soldier, but a darkness that didn’t pass unnoticed by you.

He licked his lips, “Well, now that you have me where you want me, what will you do?”

You pressed the knife harder into his throat, “Why are you in my room?”

“Trying to kill you, I thought that was obvious,” He said with a husky deepness in his voice.

You scoffed, “Good job,” and shifted your weight. You couldn’t help but feel the stiffness in his pants pressing through your thin pajamas.

He knew you felt him because he added, “I may not be able to control how my body reacts to you, but that doesn’t change anything.”

Taking advantage of your distraction and with lightning speed, he flipped the two of you back over again.

“I’m still going to kill you,” he whispered in your ear, “I recognized you the moment I saw you today.”

Your body stiffened. No. That was a long time ago. You weren’t that person anymore, and neither was he.

You’d worked with the Winter Soldier years ago, once on a mission when you both worked for Hydra. He was brainwashed into doing what he did and you supposed you were too. Hydra convinced you that you were doing the right thing. And you thought you were, until you weren’t.

Years of trying to escape until you ran into Captain America. Sam Wilson was the only person to help you, to believe you. He’d helped so much. He got you out of there, helped you start a new life.

You may have changed, but you could see that your chemistry with the Soldat hadn’t. On the mission you worked together, all those years ago, you ended up snowed into the safe house until the next morning. The memory of tangled limbs, sweating bodies, nips, kisses, and screams of ecstasy made you shiver.

You were surprised that the man on top of you even remembered you. Hydra wiped his mind so many times.

“So, you do remember me,” You quipped, at the mercy of his knife’s razor edge.

“Doll, I remember everything,” He growled.

You ground your hips against him, “Even this?”

His eyes fluttered shut as he released a shaky breath, “Yes, especially that.”

His body stilled; he was hesitating. He swallowed hard and threw the knife with all his strength. It plunged to the hilt into the opposite wall with a solid thud.

You lunged for each other at the same time. His lips crashed into yours like a starving man and you fed him graciously.

Your fingers tangled in his short hair as he threaded his metal arm under your body to pull you closer.

He ground into you; his erection painfully obvious now. He pulled away from you for just a moment. Just long enough to help you remove your pajamas and allow you to help him remove his clothing.

Bucky trailed a finger over the front of your black lace thong, down the front and to the strip between your legs. You gasped at the feather light sensations.

Bucky bit his lip, “You’re so fucking wet, Doll.”

In one motion, he tore the panties from your body and dove down between your legs.

You gasped at his sudden movement and rested both legs on his shoulders and tangled your hand in his dark hair as you lost yourself in the sensation.

He ate greedily. You could feel every soft lick, suckle, and kiss. Every second brought you closer to the edge. You were about to—

“Bucky!” You screamed, riding out the wave of pleasure washing over you like a warm breeze.

As soon as you came down from your high, you saw him sitting up, licking his lips.

“I missed your sweet taste, Doll.”

Your breath caught under his hungry gaze. Your eyes trailed down until they landed on him. Every inch of him. You reached out and began to pump.

He closed his eyes and his breath shuddered, “Get on your belly for me.”

You obliged his request with enthusiasm. Opening your legs and lifting your butt ever so slightly into the air. You looked over your shoulder at him as you felt him against your soaking wet core. He crawled on top of you and kissed your shoulder.

“Ready?” He asked tentatively.

You grabbed his thigh with the hand you weren’t using to prop yourself up and shoved him inside you.

The two of you gasped.

His pumps went from slow and sensual, to needy and fast. He snapped into you with a desire that made your second orgasm crash over you before you knew it was upon you.

The feel of your orgasm fluttering around him spurred him on harder. He wrapped his metal arm under your chest and rested the hand lightly on your neck and he pulled your body in closer to his, his face buried in the crook of your neck and the flesh arm wrapped tightly around your waist like he was fearful you’d disappear.

He fucked you like his life depended on it. With desperation and need. And you melted into him as if he were the only thing that was real in this world.

You could feel his thrusts getting shorter, he was about to come. And so were you. Your third orgasm is what pushed him over the edge. You both cried out in unison as you felt him empty inside you.

He continued pumping until you rode out your orgasm. He stayed inside you as he trailed kisses over your shoulder and down your back, catching his breath.

You felt him twitch inside you and he began pumping again. You moaned and cried out nonsensical words as he thrust into you again. Lost in the depths of your own pleasure and the way he made you feel, you didn’t even realize he was coming again until his body collapsed onto yours.

You rolled over to face him, and the sight broke your heart. His face looked sad and worn. Tired.

He buried his face in your chest and you held him, stroking your fingers though his soft hair.

The two of you stayed like that for a long time until he leaned up and kissed you.

“I’m sorry,” He said.

“I’m sorry too. I’m not that person anymore,” You said to him.

He pressed his forehead to yours, “I guess neither of us are.”

You let your fingers trail through his soft curls, “What made you drop the knife?”

Bucky sighed, “Like I said, I recognized you immediately. Sam said I could trust you, but I was still skeptical. Then when I came in here, the Soldat recognized you and I couldn’t..”

You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion.

“He’s me, and I’m him. I can control him, he doesn’t take control of my body anymore, but I can still feel his influence. He recognized you, and once he did, I couldn’t control my reaction—didn’t want to, because I also remembered.”

He stopped and swallowed hard and you felt him stiffen again against your leg.

“Bucky,” You laughed and kissed him, “You’re gonna be the end of me.”

Super soldiers…

He laughed too as he went in for another kiss, rolling on top of you, “Doll, you have no idea.”

[a-pretty-nerd]

Tomura Shigaraki x AllMight!Daughter!Reader

Chapter 4

Premis:

When The League of Villains discovers that AllMight has a daughter, they are quick to snatch you up and hold you hostage. Shigaraki had a careful and thought out plan, but that was before you got there. Now you're in the mood for some not-so-healthy rebellion.

Word Count: 1,822

Warnings: Themes of Depression, Suicidal thoughts, Daddy/Mommy issues? Substance abuse? Etc. Later chapters will involve NSFW and violent content. 

A/N:

SIKE! Once a week? Nah I'm much too hyper-focused for that! Thank you everyone for your awesome feedback and support! You guys are the best! Check out my Patreon if you can, if not, just keep that awesome attention coming! Thank you for reading! Have a wonderful day! ❤

Chapter 3 Chapter 5 

"Oh shit."

You said this out loud, to the room, without thinking. Toga turned to look at you, over the past few days she's grown quite attached.

"What’s wrong?" She asked.

"You didn't by any chance...take my meds when you kidnapped me, did you?"

"You're useless!" Your mother screamed.

"Useless! Ten days! It’s been ten days since my daughter was last seen alive and you can't find ANYTHING!?" She raged on, she's always had a bad temper. Poor Detective Tsukauchi held his head low in a lazy bow. He apologized repeatedly and insisted they were doing their best. There was just no trace of you or the league. They suspected it had to do with someone's quirk. 

"Please, don't yell. They're doing the best they can." Your father pleaded with her.

"Aren't you the least bit worried!?" She yelled at him.

"Of course I am! But they have the best on the case, something has to come up soon."

"Pitiful," she spat, "do have any idea what could have happened by now? Ten days without her meds!"

"I know! I know... But she's been working so hard, surely she has some control-"

"Hah! Control? Her? Have you ever even met your own daughter?" The room fell silent. Confusion and fear washed over your father. But you were always so well behaved. What was she talking about? 

"How long will it take?" Xavier asked. He sat peacefully, pouring over papers, wracking through theories and possibilities.

"Pardon?"

"How long will it take for her quirk to manifest without her meds?" He asked, but it sounded more like a demand.

"There's no telling. Her meds work to suppress her abilities, they don't halt them completely. By the time she came to Japan, her quirk was so suppressed that she could hardly use it at all. It may take some time for it to rise again, but I doubt it will be gentle."

"That’s it then. We just wait until her quirk manifests again, she’ll make a scene and then we grab her." Xavier's expression was blank, cold, and cunning. He creeped your father out, he didn't like him the moment he saw him. He was dead behind the eyes. 

"If this is the league, and All for One is behind this, we have to consider..." All Might trailed off.

"Toshinori..."

"They may have stripped her of her quirk entirely. With an ability like hers... I shudder to think of a Nomu with that power..."

"This is ridiculous. We have to release this to the public. Maybe someone has seen her or the league!" Your mother demanded.

"She's right. We have to alert the public, heroes are already on the lookout, but civilians help solve missing person cases every day. I'm sorry Toshinori, but we have to go to the public." Detective Tsukauchi admitted. Your father sighed and stared blankly at the table.

"Civilians find bodies, not people." Xavier spat. "If we really want to get her back, alive, we have to let her make the first move."

"And what if they've stripped her of her quirk?" Tsukauchi asked.

"I doubt they're even aware she has a quirk. It’s been suppressed for so long, not even she is aware of it anymore. I know Y/N, she's not a girl you mess with. Quite frankly I was surprised they got her in the first place, it's not like her to lose a fight like that. She's strong and smart. She'll figure things out eventually."

"But what happens then? How do we keep her from being taken again? How do we get her back?" Your father poked at his logic.

"For now we'll announce her disappearance and ask if anyone has any information. A reward for her safe return should be offered." Tsukauchi stated.

"And what do we say? The secret daughter of The Symbol of Peace is missing? It'll be madness, people won't know what to think." Xavier barked.

"No. We say she's an American tourist who went missing. Nothing more." Your mother declared.

"It's fine, really. If it would help the case any, I don't care if people know. We kept her identity a secret for so long to keep her safe, and now...it doesn't matter anymore! If it would-"

"I'm afraid she's right. If we let it out that the daughter of Japan's #1 hero has been kidnapped, it won’t look good."

"We interrupt this broadcast to bring you urgent news!"

"What now?" Spinner groaned from his seat as Shigaraki adjusted the volume on the television. At first, you didn't pay much attention, until you heard your name.

"American tourist, Y/L/N Y/N, is missing. Y/L/N was last seen-"

"American tourist? Is that all they're going to call her?" Mr. Compress hummed.

"Why? Why aren't they telling the truth?" Shigaraki mumbled to himself. He ran his sweaty palm over his neck before the urge to scratch became too much and he gave in.

"I'm sorry." You told him. He froze. Hand still dug into the flesh of his neck, the skin turning pink under his nails. He slowly turned to look up at you.

"What?" He asked.

"I'm sorry I'm not what you had in mind. Dad is either determined to keep me a secret or the heroes are onto you. Either way, you’re plan has been compromised. You might as well let me go and move on.” You watched him as he sat there scratching at his neck. He thought for a moment, then paused. 

“As frustrating as this might be, we’re not done yet. If they won’t tell the truth, I know someone who will. Isn’t that right, Y/L/N?” 

“And what if I don’t corporate?” You swallowed nervously. 

“Aren’t you tired of being All Might’s dirty little secret? Don’t you want everyone to know the truth about you?” You watched his lips curl into a smile under the hand. 

“No.” 

“Why?” You paused to think. It all left a bitter taste in your mouth. You had lived your life hidden away from a man you hardly knew. After years and years of keeping the secret, it got easier and easier to lie. After all, when you said you didn’t have a dad, you weren’t lying. 

“He’s not my dad, not really. He’s some glorified…” you looked down at your feet and curled your socks around each other, “sperm donor.” You muttered. Shigaraki stood and approached you again. It made your heart race, the way he slowly shuffled over. You were all too aware that he could kill you at any given moment, with a wave of his hand, you’d be gone. Would that be so bad? You thought. Your lip began to quiver and your eyes became red and sore with tears. Damn it, you didn’t want to cry again. 

“Are you crying?” His voice was quiet. 

“Just do it. Just touch me.” You whimpered to him. He froze. He watched you as you made attempts to cover up your face and wipe away the tears that refused to stop flowing. The tension in the air, though thick, began to swirl around. A buzz of energy filled the room as you cried. The hair on the back of everyone’s neck raised and their hearts began to flutter wildly. 

“Y/L/N…” Toga whispered to herself as she watched you. She stood and started to walk towards you. Shigaraki stayed still, taking note of the energy that came from you. 

“Go on.” You growled through tears as you reached out a hand towards him. He jumped back slightly, only to feel the back of a chair push against his back. Had it moved? Your whimpers became sobs as the furniture began to raddle and shake around them. The league watched in horror as you slid to the floor. The energy built and built as your panic attack washed over you, engulfing you entirely. You had cried a handful of times in the days you had taken, intense emotions had come and gone, but something about this episode was different. 

“Hey, kiddo! It’s alright!” Twice shouted at you as he tried to make his way closer to console you. 

“We won’t make you do anything you don’t want!” Toga followed. 

“Deep breaths, you’ll be alright.” Mr. Compress reassured. Their words hardly got to you as the assault on your mind went on. 

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” You sobbed uncontrollably. Shigaraki looked out into the room and watched as the furniture that shook began to shift closer and closer to you. He looked back down at you, his heart squeezed in his chest and his own emotions began to turn. Horrified by the way this made him feel, he moved to get away from you as others gathered to be closer. 

Toga’s hand met your back and rubbed soft circles there as they reassured you, and soon enough the furniture stopped shaking, the energy in the room dropped, and you started to calm down. You sniffled and wiped your red and puffy face as you looked up at the faces of villains. Villains that had comforted you and calmed you down during a panic attacked. You felt confused and concerned. Were they playing some kind of brainwashing game with you? But they looked so genuine. No one has ever been so kind before. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to break down like that, I just-” 

“Don’t apologize-Shut it!” 

“These things happen.” 

“You don’t have to be sorry.” Toga gave a kind smile. 

“I don’t understand, why are you so nice to me?” The three looked at one another before turning back. 

“We understand!” Twice shouted. 

“We know what if feels like to be in your shoes.” You stood on your shaky legs and looked out into the room. 

“What happened in here?” You asked when you noticed all the furniture had shifted. 

“You really don’t know?” Shigaraki asked from his place, far away from you. He was sufficiently spooked. No one had ever… 

“This is bad...this is really bad…” You muttered. You nervously chewed at your lip and tugged at your shirt. “It’s happening again. Please, please you have to let me go!” You begged him as he watched you shuffle towards him. 

“What’s happening again, Y/L/N?” Toga asked you, tugging back your arm. 

“I-I-I can’t explain, please, just let me go. For your sake, I need my meds!” Her grip on your arm tightened. 

“Why?” His eyes narrowed and she stared at you. 

“It’s her quirk,” Shigaraki noted. 

“I can’t control it otherwise, please, you’re not safe.” You begged him. The energy became to rise again, he felt it, it swept up the back of his neck and made his whole body tingle and ache. 

“Tie her down.” He ordered. 

“I’m sorry, Y/N.” Toga said as she pulled you in close and the others began to grab ahold of you. 

“No! Please!” 

Taglist: 

@craftybean13 @babayaga67 @imjustverable

@bat-eclecticwolfbouquet-love ​ @kamenoyaki @hentaiqween101 

[ichika27]

The World Ends with You

(Yeah, it’s the same screenshot I used for my post about ep. 1. I couldn’t get a new one so...)

Ah, first week without the TWEWY anime to look forward to. I’m actually kinda sad cause I’d miss waiting for the episode every Saturday night (Ani-One posts theirs on that day here). I have some stuff I wanna say about the anime so I thought I’d make one of these plus this is a good way to end the twewy anime blog post series I make every week. I’ll try not to spoil until the very bottom of this post which will have a spoiler warning.

Also, this will be very long and rambly as most of my fandom posts are haha.

Story:

A boy named Neku wakes up in the middle of Shibuya with no memory and finds himself as a player in the Reaper’s Game. For a week he must partner up with a girl named Shiki and both of them must complete missions, battle creatures called noise, and survive as failure meant erasure.

Characters:

Neku Sakuraba - our main protagonist who somehow lost his memories and is now playing the Reaper’s Game. He’s a loner who isn’t too keen on getting close to anyone let alone working alongside anybody - unfortunately for him, it’s a requirement if he wants to survive. As a player he has an assortment of abilities to fight off noise and other enemies (in the game this meant he can use a lot of different pins).

Shiki Misaki - the nice and friendly Shiki becomes Neku’s partner in the Reaper’s Game. Unlike Neku she has knowledge of the game and fills Neku in on things he doesn’t understand. Her ability is to control her stuffed toy called Nyantan/Mr. Mew which she uses in combat.

Beat - the tough skateboarding player, he’s somewhat more like the typical hot-blooded shounen protagonist when compared to Neku. He’s protective of those he care about especially his game partner, Rhyme. He uses his skateboard in battle.

Rhyme - Beat’s game partner who is a lot kinder and calmer than him. Rhyme tends to be the one to reason with Beat when needed and the two are always seen together.

Yoshiya Kiryu - a mysterious boy who seem to know more than he lets on and acts at times acts suspicious. He prefers to be called by the nickname Joshua.

Sanae Hanekoma - a cafe owner who helps out Neku and the others and would give them advice. His advice prove to be very helpful and Neku takes them to heart. Seem to have a lot of knowledge about the Reaper’s Game but doesn’t seem to be a reaper himself.

--

Thoughts:

(I tried my best to not be spoilery in the character descriptions so some names weren’t written in full)

The World Ends with You (or in the original Japanese “Subarashiki Kono Sekai”/It’s a Wonderful World) is an anime based on the video game of the same name. It had to compress an entire game’s worth of story within it’s 12 episode run which meant they cut out a lot of things and combined some scenes to quickly run through them. It’s theme song is the anime version of the game’s original OP “Twister” although this wasn’t what was originally planned but an incident involving the band who sang the original theme forced them to make changes. The original voice actors from the game also reprised their roles for the anime. The series is created to be watched before the release of the long-awaited sequel game.

The art style is made to be similar to it’s game version (with a bit of change to adapt it as an anime like when it comes to body proportions). They also retained the effect of the characters from the UG (players/reapers) being brightly colored while those from the RG having darker/muted colors. While the noise are obviously cg, I personally liked this since they’re said to be from a different plane anyways so it’s a nice contrast to those from the UG and RG. They had to update the setting though as years had passed since the original game’s creation and they had to model anime version of Shibuya to what it’s real life counterpart now looks. The characters are also given smartphones instead of the flip phones they had in the game (anime-only watchers who are gonna play the game would have to get used to them still using flip phones though lol).

Okay so story-wise... it’s rushed. Of course it is. They shortened it so that what’s left would mostly be important plot points from the main story but they cut out many scenes that consist of character interactions and several little things that could’ve fleshed out the characters more. The gameplay is also made simpler with some mechanics taken away and the mini games weren’t adapted (RIP to Reaper Creeper and Tin Pin Slammer, especially the latter as you’re severely missed). The game boast an assortment of characters and some NPCs have their own stories but due to the anime’s limited run time, they had to either be cut out (and are just given cameos) or given smaller roles (and their stories weren’t adapted). They did, however, give a few bits and pieces of information that weren’t in the game such as some details about certain characters and one supporting character was given a bit more screentime that they did in the game version.

Despite the rushed nature of the series (which may or may not affect how one views the story itself), the anime made sure to adapt several important scenes and the dramatic stuff is made worse... like, they really had to make some deaths harder to take. The battle scenes were nice as well although my biggest complaint about them is that the boss fights were over too quickly. There were scenes that were changed for the anime version and there are those that I liked and those I didn’t but there are many which I think was as good as the game’s version.

Do I recommend the anime? The game is better, the characters and story are more fleshed out and the way the character/relationship development happens is better paced so of course, me, biased already would tell you to play the game instead if you haven’t yet. Do I recommend those who played the game to watch the anime? Yes! Yes I do. I think the anime is better watched when you’ve played the game and know the stuff that they cut out cause it’ll make better sense that way. Plus I found it enjoyable seeing the scenes from the game animated and the characters are speaking whole dialogues and moving. It’s great!

Even if the anime wasn’t perfect, like I mentioned before, they did their best to condense the entire main story in a 12 episode series and it tried to be as faithful as it could to the original story so despite the deviations when it comes to how things got to the way they did, if you summarize important plot points, they would be the same (with some details changed). Overall, it was very enjoyable and it wasn’t as bad as I feared when I heard how many episodes the anime was going to have.

--

Some spoiler thoughts:

It would’ve been better if the anime had more episode count than just 12. Cramming a 3 week story of game into just 12 made the thing very rushed with Week 1 only getting three episodes, Week 2 getting four, and final Week getting five. They had to get to the good stuff so they cut off a lot of scenes where the characters are interacting with each other which means they suddenly get character developments and relationship developments too quickly. It might not be that obvious to anime-only watchers but to me, it felt kinda sudden and it feels like it doesn’t work out well story-wise since Neku had to learn how to trust other people and make friends and with how he started vs. how he came out of it contrasting each other.

By the way, they made the characters look good in the anime. Especially Joshua. Have you seen Joshua? He’s so pretty in the anime. I want a picture of him I could stare at anytime I want to (I do not own a phone, sadly).

I like how they gave Eri more scenes though and that they changed her outfit for the anime so she won’t look exactly like UG!Shiki. All of her scenes though made me feel like I wish the anime gave closure to Shiki’s own story by showing us her and Eri making up. Another scene I liked in the anime is Neku’s fanboying of CAT when he finds out the truth. It was adorable.

Some info was taken away from the anime. Beat and Rhyme leaving home had scene dialogue and unlike Beat just narrating it in-game but they didn’t mention specifically why he was angry and his trouble at home. Joshua wasn’t present when Sota and Nao gave Neku a pep-talk either which is a shame cause I think that helped Josh as well. 

I mentioned before how the anime made things go too fast. They cut off chunks of not-main-plot story that let the characters interact with each other more which means each game day is shortened as well. I think it made sense that Neku wakes up at the scramble in the end and not stressed out because he didn’t go through as much as his game counterpart did. That said, game Neku learned a lot from more than just the main cast in the game compared to the anime so I like his character development in the game better.

They took away Tin Pin Slammer. I am sad and disappointed. I was hoping so bad for Another Day to be adapted even if it’s an OVA. That and the ramen incident are part of Josh’s week which meant some side of him wasn’t shown (I mean, anime fans don’t know he wasn’t there on week 3 since he’s busy playing a kid’s game elsewhere and how he could talk about food like he is from a cooking anime). Speaking of Josh, they made him very suspicious from the get-go in the anime. I understand as there’s a limited run-time and they can’t really afford to be subtle about it but it meant some of the fun interactions with Neku is gone and so are some scenes where they actually got along. At least they had ice cream together, I guess?

(I have more to say when it comes to Joshua cause he’s my fave character but this is long and my thoughts on it would make this way longer. I might make another post.)

In the end, it wasn’t perfect but the anime was fun and enjoyable enough that I found myself looking forward to it every week. Seeing scenes I recognize from the game in animated form (with voice acting!) felt exciting and awesome. I’ll miss this show and I still wish it was longer.

If you’ve read this far well, thank you. And also I’m confused why but still hopefully that was a good time-killer. I have so many other things I wanted to comment on but that’s for another time. Maybe.

[writer-akihiko]

Chapter 1 - Meeting Him [QuartetNight Ver.]

Chapter 2  →

Camus Cryszard

As a student of Saotome Music High, everyone is mostly expected to either categorise themselves in common stereotypes. You, however, were not one of those people.

The moment you entered the school and had to pick a course; your heart had already decided. You had a passion for music, but not for playing or composing, rather, conducting.

You were quite well-known in Saotome, after all you were the first female in the history of Saotome's conducting course. Due to this, you had developed an instinct to try harder and be more ambitious.

As a project to pitch to the principal to include you in Saotome's premier concert for scouters, you had to come up with a new arrangement.

Carrying your composing files, you enter your practice hall where your usual orchestra group waited for you to arrive. To your surprise, there was a person lecturing them.

The tall man had his locks in a low ponytail. As you stepped in, the orchestra looked at you. Noticing that they weren't paying attention to him anymore, the man looked at you as well.

"Another late member?" He harshly said.

You were taken aback, but smoothly replied. "I'm their conductor. I wasn't informed that anyone else would be observing today."

The faces of your orchestra members were relieved from whatever scolding this man gave them. "Please do tell what you were lecturing my orchestra about," You said to the man, arranging your pieces on your desk.

"I was simply asking your party here why they feel that the practice halls can also be for horseplay and loitering," he crosses his arms, giving you a blaming look.

You sighed. "Fukuda, did everyone finish their tasks before I got here?"

The orchestra leader nodded immediately, then silently sitting down as you and the odd long-haired man have your showdown.

You turn to the man. "Great. I don't see why they cannot relax if they finish their tasks, Mr..."

"Camus. However I believe that there is no time to relax when your proposal is soon, LN-san."

"If this misunderstanding is cleared up, you can sit near the desk and begin your observation Mr Camus," You prepare yourself at the podium.

"Very well LN."

The two of you glared at each other the whole practice as the orchestra awkwardly play the whole time.

Ai Mikaze

You had a meeting with Ai Mikaze, a popular idol of the group Quartet Night. You were going to talk to him about the new ending track for the new season of the anime you were starring in.

You were a popular voice actress with a boyish wild attitude despite some of the cutesy roles you took on. Your fans still loved you anyway, to which you are extremely grateful for. Most of your roles consist of characters from shounen animes, but you still had some other roles in fictional idol games and shoujo animes.

The song that was meant for the ending track was about the character you voiced as, the main protagonist. You had to get Ai Mikaze to understand the personality of your character and honour it through the ending. The first episode is going to be released in two weeks’ time, meaning you had no time to waste. You walked into the studio and asked for the number of the recording room. You pushed the door open and found the famous Ai Mikaze standing there, looking at what seems to be a script.

"Hey there, name's LN YN. Nice to meet you Mikaze-kun!" You enthusiastically chirped.

He didn't reply and just stared at you.

"Umm..."

"Are you sure you are LN-san?" He said.

"Yes, I am..." You answered, quite confused. "Anyway, let's get on with the script!"

Deciding to forget about that awkward situation, you took a seat.

"What do you think about your character?" He asked you, taking a seat as well.

"What?"

"What do you think about your character?"

"I heard you the first time..." You corrected. He started to look puzzled. "Well I think with the new arc going on she's going to have to face her past. That's in the song, right?"

He handed me a piece of paper. It was the lyrics pre-written. "What?! This doesn't sound like her at all! How could they disgrace my precious child like this?"

Ai continued to stare at you with wide eyes. "Um, sorry Ai. There must be a mistake in the song here. It wasn't supposed to be like this. Sorry for wasting your time."

"We could fix it together," He insisted.

"Huh?"

You two spent the rest of the week fixing the song together. It was later re-approved by the audio director who thanked both of you for doing so.

He's a little odd, you thought. He's still nice though.

Reiji Kotobuki

You were a paramedic in training. You were quite studious and serious most of the time, even outside of your job. Your senior today was hired for the rehearsal concert of the popular idol group, Quartet Night.

You and your senior were watching from the side lines. The group was practicing the choreography to Poison Kiss. You didn't know the members much, but their songs often came on the radio.

Crash!

One of the idols fell to the floor. Your senior decided that you should examine the guy as he observes you. You nodded, grabbing your kit and running to the fallen idol.

The idol was panting, clutching his ankle. You asked his bandmate, a silver haired man. "Can you get him to sit on a chair?" He nodded, seating his friend down.

You scrambled to take off his shoe and his sock. You took out one of the ice packs and supported his foot. Quickly compressing the ice, the male groaned and winced.

You looked up at the male. "Sir, you'll be fine. After this I will wrap your ankle and continue to compress. May I ask what your name is?"

He stared at you, in a daze. He looked like a puppy, almost rivalling your own puppy back at your apartment.

"Sir?"

"Umm... Kotobuki Reiji."

"Ok. Now listen here Kotobuki-san, I'm going to begin wrapping..."

You continued to talk; however Reiji did not listen. He was too busy staring at you and your beauty to pay attention.

When you looked at him... your e/c eyes caught him off guard. There was so much emotion in them... concern, worry, calmness... It was enchanting.

No wait, it didn't even start from there. When he was in pain, the sight of you running towards him made his heart race. To see someone as gorgeous as you race to him... it was like a movie when the princess leaps into the arms of her lover.

"KOTOBUKI-SAN!"

"AH YES PRINCESS!" Reiji yelled.

"Huh?"

Reiji turned redder than Otoya's hair. "U-Uh continue please Miss Paramedic."

"As I was saying, I don't think you can dance tonight. You can still sing though. I'm sorry Kotobuki-san." You apologised sincerely. You felt bad for him, as he was an idol after all.

"Don't be sorry to me Miss Prin- I mean, Paramedic," Reiji replied. "On another note, what's your name? I feel awkward calling you Miss Princ- Paramedic."

"LN YN," You said. "I must leave now. Your bandmates must want to talk to you, and I need to let you rest. Get well soon."

"Thank you," Reiji said as you walked back to your senior. "Miss Princess..." He whispered.

Ranmaru Kurosaki

[This starts when you were children]

"YN-chan!"

Your best friend Ranmaru called to you. You waddled your way to him in your polka dot f/c bathing suit. Ranmaru was rich kid that moved into the fancy villa for the holiday. When your father was delivering fish to the villa, you followed him and met Ranmaru. You two became quick friends.

Today you two were playing on the seaside.

"YN-chan..."

"Yea Mawu-chan?" You say, as you gather water with your pail.

"My mommy says that we're going to leave soon. I have to go back to school as well," He says, pouting as he grips his swim trunks.

"You can visit next howiday right Mawu-chan?" You said, hopeful.

"But... I WANT YN-CHAN WITH ME!" He cried. He grabbed your hand and brought you to his mother.

"What is it Ranmaru dear?" She said, looking at the adorable couple. Secretly, YN's mother and her ship you two.

"Mama! I don't wanna leave!" Ranmaru cries.

"Eh? Ranmaru, we already talkedー"

"NO!! NOT WITHOUT YN-CHAN!" He held onto you tighter, as to prove his point.

His mother didn't know what to do. Ranmaru continued to throw a tantrum.

"I DON'T WANNA! I WANNA GO WITH YN-CHAN! I DON'T, I DON'T!"

"Ranmaru! YN has to stay here. She has her whole family here. We can't take her with us..." His mother comforted him.

"It's okay!" You cried out. "Becawse Mawu-chan is gonna visit me evewy howiday!"

As the day ended, both of your fathers had force you two apart (or more like Ranmaru from you) and you said farewell.

On the day of Ranmaru's departure, you two were on the sand on the beach you two met.

Ranmaru was already crying to you, telling you about stupid adults that cannot bring you.

"Mawu-chan!"

"Huh?"

You gave him a shell bracelet. "Mawu-chan... I know that you're sad. I'm sad twoo. But my granny says that if I give you this shell bracelet then you'll never forget me. I made it with granny. See, I have one too!"

You showed him the bracelet and they were indeed matching. "Like Mawu, I'm gonna follow you somedway! Because Mawu's name means follow right? Meaning I have to follow you one dway!"

Ranmaru held the bracelet in his hand. "Y-YN-CHANNN!!"

The two of you cried together.

"I'll mwiss you," you yelled, as you waved at the limo and a wailing Ranmaru at the window.

Fast forward to today's time period, you were a popular athlete, a surfer to be exact. You were at one of the beaches for your nationals competition. Today was your relaxing day, but that definitely won't stop you from surfing.

Unbeknownst to you, Quartet Night was having a photoshoot on the exact same beach you were at. Ranmaru Kurosaki, your childhood friend, was complaining to their manager.

"C'mon! I'm already done! Why should I wait for Ai? He's not even facing the waves!"

"Fine Kurosaki-kun. You can go ahead and surf. I'll be watching."

"Woo-hoo!"

"How impudent," Camus remarked.

Coincidentally, you were also about to catch the waves. Ranmaru rode the wave first, and you caught up to him.

This guy is really good, you thought. As a challenge for yourself, you tried to catch up to him. You decided to try the risky route and overtake him from above. You glimpsed back and the male was shocked at what skill you had. You smirked at him and went ahead. You noticed the male try to catch up to you but failed however, until the wave was nearing an end.

You decided to surf and jump it from the top. The male followed suit, and the wipeout occurred.

"You're not too bad," you commented to the male, who just resurfaced. You were about to sit on your board and heave yourself until the male gasped.

He was staring at your bracelet. The one you gave Mawu a long time ago.

"Oh this? It’s a bracelet I gave a friend a... long... time..."

You stopped when the male across from you lifted up a necklace that had the same shells in the identical order to yours. That's when it hit you.

"MAWU?!"

"YN?!"

Ranmaru swam to you and lifted you up. "YN-chan! I can't believe it's you!" He puts you on your board. "This is so surreal..."

"I know. What are you up to here? Don't tell me you're a part of the surfing contest," You said.

"No, I'm here for a photoshoot," he said truthfully.

"You're with Quartet Night?" You said, shocked. "You didn't look like Mawu at all, y'know, because of the eyes."

"It's an aesthetic. But you? Are you a part of that contest?" You nodded. 

"Professional surfer... Wow."

"Wow yourself Mr. Idol," You laughed.

"H-Hey! Don't tease me like that! Also don't call me Mawu! It's Ranmaru!"

"Then call me YN, Ranmaru. I missed you y'know?"

"Me too YN." He said smiling.

"LN!" Your manager screamed.

"KUROSAKI!" His manager screamed.

"That's my manager..." You two said in unison to each other.

"See you around, Ranmaru," you said, swimming to shore.

"You too, YN."

Chapter 2  →

[autumn-foxfire]

The thing i noticed when i look at dabihawks fanart n read through your expiriences with the meta part of the fandom is that a lot of people seem to lean on dabi side of the dabihawks conflict. Like its hawks who has to make changes to earn dabi. Its hawks whos turned it a villain, its hawks who forgives or even thanks dabi for what he did. Actually i dont think ive ever seen art ro read a fic (but to be fair im extremly selective in fic reading) where dabi is the one to apologise and try to earn hawks

N i think this sorta makes sense because for a lot of dabihawks shippers, dabi is probably their favorite out of the two. That also makes sense cuz hes been around longer n has appealing design so it makes sense that people would try and fit hawks around dabis narrative instead of vice versa. They find dabi more likable n more interesting so its his side they want to explore.

I feel that this is completely different for me because hawks is my no 1 best boy. Like before hawks bnha was the kind of show where i would say 'oh i like the characters but none of them are mine fav' like id say shouto, shinsou or jirou were my favs mostly based on aesthetics or recognizing pieces i usually like in characters in them, but those pieces never being strong enough for me to say this is my fav bnha character like id say izaya is my favorite durarara character or ranpo is my favorite bungo stray dogs character. And then bam. Bird Time. Like when i first saw hawks i think the most i thought was 'damn thats a cool design' but as we got more of him he very quickly became the character i loved most and wanted to see more off.

Dabi on the other hand i was never really interested in. Like he was cool n all but overall i didnt really care for him until the touya theory dropped and until dabihawks. For me hes perfectly fine, i dont dislike him or anything but i like him most when hes involved with other characters i like, like Todorokis n Hawks. Like even now after a good while on Dabihawks juice id still stay hes not my fav villain. That would probably be Toga, Geten (as little as we get of him) and honestly mr compress just for being an evil magician i need more mr compress

So the fact that hawks is my fav means that unlike ppl whos fav is dabi i focus more on how can dabi earn hawks. How can dabi get better, would he ask for help, would he quit villainy, would he apologize. And most importantly would hawks accept him back.

Makes me feel like amongst dabihawks shippers theres simply two different streams that would probably get annoyed by each others content n feel like the other is spoiling their fav character.

Like i sure as fuck get annoyed when artists i follow for dabihawks start talking about how hawks should have been a villain n how hawks is actually an evil murderer while the league has a point n is poiting out that the heroes will save only those who dont fight back. No really thats a take i heard, lets just forget muscular, mustard, moonfish, gentle, the yakuza and ALL FOR FUCKING ONE who were all arrested perfectly fine without fighting back. But of course these people dont mean saved as in arrested, forced to rexamin their own behavior and work to be better people, they mean saved as in i want my favs to be coddled and patted on the back and instantly forgiven and even told they were right all along and they are the most special a good. Geeze

I fuckin went off subject so hard this is less of an ask n more of a rant now. The only good thing about seeing all those bad takes is that every time i see one my motivation to write a dabihawks story where dabi faces concequences, and they actually have to hash the whole villain hero ideologies thing out, grows stronger

...I’m sorry, I wanted to answer this sooner but wanted to get the smaller asks out of the way first T-T

But yes! That’s been my experience when it comes to Dabihawks as well. Not many people focus on Hawks side of the conflict and instead tend to make him the agressor in the relationship when they want conflict (it always tends to be Hawks who upsets Dabi for example, or Hawks will say something insensitive towards Dabi or do something that upsets Dabi). Not many people treat them as a pair, they just tend to focus on the Dabi angst more then the Hawks angst or angst experienced by the both of them (I like to call that the Dabias and many people suffer from it in the Dabihawks shipping fandom I’ve found).

I like reading stories like this too, from time to time, but I’m just tired of all the stories or comics or fan art being Hawks the bad person in the relationship with him having to apologise and make it up to Dabi. Especially when in canon it’s Dabi that has treated Hawks pretty terribly (he almost got him killed by lying to him about when he was going to release High End and he almost killed him during the raid, meanwhile Hawks hasn’t anything as horrible towards Dabi except hold him at knife point but that was more for his own protection then to threaten Dabi).

I feel like I’m just bitching because people don’t wrote fanfiction to my specifications but you’d be grumpy too if your favourite character always gets the short end of the stick in work that is supposed to be about the pair of them being a couple.

Also don’t get me started on the stories that make Hawks “see the light” and join Dabi’s side after he maimed him, some even going far as to have him thank Dabi for what he did. It just reeks of the Dabias and I absolutely hate. Let Hawks experience trauma you cowards, especially trauma that we know was caused by the hands of dear old Dabi.

I wish more work would try to reform Dabi as a person instead of having Hawks become a villain (especially because works that usually have Hawks become a villain tend to ignore the horrifying plans the League want to commit or acknowledged them but fool themselves into thinking Hawks would actually be down for all the BS). I think it’s more interesting to see a bad person try to change, it’s why I’ve enjoyed Endeavor’s character arc despite not liking him as a character. Like sure, I don’t mind bastardization arcs too but they have to be done with character I can see it happening too and Hawks isn’t that type of person.

(In fact it’s such an interesting source of conflict that Dabi and Hawks are very resolved people. They’re not likely to change their ways for anything but I don’t really see people explore that even though it’s the perfect source for angst).

I’m so tired of villain stans who wanted Hawks to become evil (and then wanted him to validate their murder favs). I want more stories where Hawks puts his foot down and Dabi realises he wants to be a better person for him (it’s in those stories I could actually see him bonding with his family again too because right now Dabi is a man with no qualms with breaking his family apart for his revenge).

I just wished more people would let Dabi face the consequences of his actions too. Like if you’re going to make Hawks suffer for what he did (even though I roll my eyes at the thought) then Dabi who has done much worse should be suffering ten times over.

Make it make sense.

[twokinkybeans]

Pale Rose - Lion Whisperer AU Chapter 2 [Starker]

Chapter 2: Mister Six AM. Peter groans as he turns around in his bed to slap the alarm. The sun is already shining through the curtains and he rubs the sleep out of his eyes. Peter cracks his back and sighs, slowly raising his hand again to grab his phone. He unplugs it from the charger and frowns when he sees a wall of notifications. He puts in his code and opens his email first. He gasps when he reads his daily donation update. Their donation goal of 100k dollars was met. And kicked out of the park by another 560k. The number of separate donations has him lose his breath. How did so many people find this fundraiser? Peter opens the next email. YouTube contacted him to… Congratulate him? Peter’s eyes go wide when he sees the number in the email and he immediately switches apps to check his YouTube account. How many subscribers did he have yesterday? Around 700k? 

“Holy shit…” he mumbles. 1.8 million subscribers . Peter jolts to sit upright in his bed, his bare chest uncovered from the thin sheet as he scrolls through the countless new comments he has. He pants, not believing what is happening. He’s pretty sure he can’t even read all of them anymore at this point. On his most recent video, the most liked comment sparks his interest. Who else is here because of Tony Stark?

“Oh, no, he didn’t.” Peter switches apps again and opens his Instagram. He stares at another wall of notifications and opts to just turn them off for people who aren’t mutuals. He’s about to hit the search bar to find Tony Stark’s Instagram in the list of people he follows, but with his notification wall compressed to just mutuals, one shines through.

Tony Stark now follows you. They’re mutuals now. Peter immediately hits his account and stares at the latest post. It’s a candid of Peter with Adi and Nedda. Tony didn’t have a phone with him, though, or a camera. How could he have taken this picture? Peter’s breath is stuck in his throat as he scrolls down to the caption, almost afraid of what he might read. Meet Peter Parker. A bright sun, that rivals the one up in the sky, who also happens to work with cats. Big cats. Wakanda’s Sanctuary, almost 300k square feet of land, is the home of lions and other animals that are native to Africa. There, Peter takes care of the animals that are endangered because of human interference. Animals that can no longer be released into the wild; that were saved from horrible private zoos or who fell victim to poachers. I was blessed with both a terrible sunburn and a generous conversation with Peter, in which he told me about his goals to raise money in order to fight poaching and to raise awareness for climate change. I do encourage all of you to watch at least one of his videos, just to get to know him and his feline friends a little better and to give him that small bit of ad revenue to help him achieve his goals. The world would be a better place if we were all a little bit more like Peter Parker. Peter stares at his screen, his cheeks flushed red at the endless stream of compliments. Peter reads over the last line again and again and again and again. Tony’s post got him this increase in subscribers. Tony’s post got him all of those donations. This was all because of Tony. Peter tears his eyes away from the phone to look at the small card on his bedside table. Matte black. No name. Just a phone number. Tony’s phone number. Maybe doing a collab with the billionaire philanthropist isn’t such a bad idea after all... - Peter assesses himself in the mirror. He’s never been this nervous for a video before. Or, ever at all, really. Tony Stark immediately agreed to being present for the move. Even on the phone, the man had been incredibly charming. Peter ruffles his hair in an attempt to make it look good, while sucking at his teeth. He swears quietly, knowing spending time with the lions will mess his do up again anyways. Peter opts to not think too much about it and covers himself head to toe in sunscreen, as he does every morning. He takes one last glance in the mirror before grabbing his baseball cap and putting on his walking shoes. When Peter opens the front door of his apartment at The Sanctuary he gulps and immediately walks back in to throw the door shut with a loud bang. Tony was already there. Right outside his small, messy room. Peter saw him well enough to have the image of Tony’s outfit stuck in front of his eyes. Camo shorts, brown walking shoes and a green shirt. His brown tinted pilot sunglasses hide his eyes mysteriously and fuck. He looks hot. Peter takes a deep breath in through his nose and closes his eyes, trying to calm his nerves. “Here we go…” he whispers to nobody but himself and when he opens the door again, he yelps, refraining from throwing it shut straight away again. Tony’s right in front of him, hand raised to knock on Peter’s door. The older man cocks his head and smiles. “Morning, Rose,” Tony quips. Peter swallows his breath and chokes when he hears the nickname. “You rushed back in, so I figured I’d come say hi.” “Yeah!” Peter exclaims, laughing sheepishly. “I- eh… I saw you didn’t bring a cap. I was gonna grab you one.” He presses his lips together in a smile. Yes. Good excuse. “A… cap?” “Yeah, a cap.” Peter doesn’t know what to say next and awkwardly stares at Tony’s features. “Should I have brought a cap, then?” Peter jolts when Tony speaks again and he points at his own head. “You get sunburnt at the top of your head quickly out there and I’m guessing you don’t want to put sunscreen on your scalp, so…” Peter swiftly takes off his own hat and pushes it onto Tony’s head. The man is startled by the gesture, but doesn’t protest. Peter stares at the man wide-eyed when he realizes what he just did. “-Ah,” he stutters. “Sorry about that, I should’ve asked, shit-” “Hey, hey, it’s okay.” Tony laughs. “I get it, okay? When we first met I was just the random dude you see in the news occasionally and now I completely flipped your life with one post you didn’t want me to make.” Peter stands frozen in place, staring at Tony and pretends that that is exactly the reason why he’s so flustered. “I’m sorry for not asking permission. That’s on me. But- please- don’t feel like you have to do anything for me, okay? You don’t get the title of philanthropist by asking for things in return.” Peter takes a step back and looks at his feet with a frown. Tony clears his throat. “So, what are you gonna use for your head?” Peter looks up so he can stare at Tony again. Tony gestures towards Peter’s hair by nodding. “You just pressed your cap on me. Thank you for letting me borrow it, by the way, but don’t you need the protection as well?” “Right!” Peter exclaims, turning to fall on his knees and crawl under the bed to get a small box. He takes out an old, slightly more worn cap and waves it in front of his own face. “That’ll do.” - “Good morning everybody,” Peter smiles at the GoPro in his hand. “It is currently 7am, we got a busy day ahead of us: we’re going to be switching enclosures for two prides and if that goes smoothly, we’ll hopefully be taking Adi, Nedda and Beru for a walk this afternoon.” Peter looks down at his feet for a second and then back up into the lens with a wide grin. “Now, you must be wondering why I say ‘we’ for the walk, as that’s a thing I do without the volunteers of The Sanctuary, but I actually have a very special guest with me today!” Peter turns around quickly, whipping the camera with him until Tony enters the shot behind him. The man smirks and cocks an eyebrow. “Hello, there.” Peter feels Tony’s hot breath in his neck and has to stay focussed on the camera so as to not to lose his composure. A lot of people are gonna watch this video, simply because Tony Stark is in it, so he has to sell this right. For the lions. At least, that’s what Peter tells himself. “Tony Stark!” “Me!” Tony raises his hands above his head and they both pull a face, resulting in the both of them bursting out with laughter. “So,” Peter says, angling his camera correctly again. “A lot of you peeps have been asking me to make a video from the perspective of someone visiting The Sanctuary as opposed to just me with the GoPro attached to my arm, so I figured I could take this opportunity to see how well you handle a camera, Mr. Stark.” Peter presents the GoPro to Tony who looks at Peter’s fingers for a second. He really doesn’t like to be handed things, but every molecule inside his body is screaming at him to touch the boy, so he does something he rarely allows. With a grin, he takes the camera out of Peter’s hands, lingering a little longer than necessary and turns it until he’s no longer in shot. Instead, Peter’s all the viewer is able to see now. “Hey!” Peter exclaims. “You’re in this vid too!” “Yes, but you are infinitely more interesting to look at.”  Peter scratches the back of his head and looks down, trying to hide his blush behind the worn cap. Tony clears his throat. “You doing your work, kid.” Saved it , Tony hopes. “Don’t think anybody goes to the Sanctuary Channel to watch my face.” “Well-” Peter exclaims, standing upright again with his lips pressed on top of each other. “I was also thinking that this video will be the one most people get introduced to my channel with because- well… You’re in it.” Peter nods, holding his chin with his thumb and index finger. “So, yeah, you can ask me anything that comes to mind. Doesn’t matter if I’ve touched on it before in other vids.” “Well, then, Mr. Parker-” “Peter,” the young man interrupts him. “Feel so old when people call me that.” “Sheesh, kid, you’re what, 22? Just a few days ago you were talking to me about retirement- we’re in the 21st century, people live ‘til 85 at least.” Peter laughs and boy, does Tony love making him laugh. “For the record,” Peter chuckles. “I’m 23. So that’s way older than 22.” Tony snorts. “And my workfield isn’t exactly without danger, Mr. Stark.” “Ha!” Tony exclaims. “Way to make me feel old, kid.” “But-” “If I’m not allowed to call you mister than you’re not calling me that either. Tony, kid. Call me Tony.” Peter hides his face behind his hands. “I’m gonna have to spend a whole day editing this vid, don’t I?” “Probably.” - “Alright!” Peter says excitedly as he hops into the truck. He slowly drives over the Sanctuary grounds.  “Your timing is actually quite ironic, since we’re moving the Avengers today.” “The- oh?” Tony pretends he wasn’t already aware of this. He’s seen the videos of this particular pride. He knows what’s coming. He puts the camera diagonally and Peter chuckles, trying to steer with one hand while flailing slightly with his other to make Tony hold the camera straight again. “A group of four males. Banner, Thor, Rogers and-” Peter cocks one eyebrow with a smirk. “Stark.” “You named a lion after me?” Tony feigns his surprise with a wide smile and Peter scoffs a laugh. “These boys joined The Sanctuary as cubs about four years ago. Were all part of a circus.” Tony snorts and has to stop himself from losing his composure. “That’s not far off from the real thing,” he jokes. Peter presses his lips on top of each other in a grin. “Trust me, Mr- Tony.” Peter gently hits the brake and they slow down. “It’s quite scary.” “Says the kid who works with lions for a living.” “And hyenas,” Peter adds quickly. “And leopards.” “No black panthers?” “That’s the leopards,” Peter chuckles. “Leopards that are melanistic are commonly known as black panthers. But they’re still leopards, really.” Peter shrugs nonchalantly. Tony sniffs once. He’s getting schooled by a boy less than half his age. But he enjoys it. Somehow. Most of the volunteers were already waiting for Peter at the enclosure. There’s a large truck with a cage on top and a lot more commotion than Tony expected. “If you told me there’d be this many people I’d have prepped a speech,” Tony quips. Peter sighs dramatically and gets out of the truck. Tony follows swiftly and stares at how Peter speaks Xhosa with the other volunteers. It looks funny, almost, seeing a white boy speak the language so easily- fluently. After a minute, Tony grows bored, so he turns the camera to face him and pulls a few funny faces at it. When he realizes this video is going to be seen by a lot of people, he brings the GoPro closer to his face and whispers. “That was for your eyes only, Mr. Parker,” he grins.  “Tony?” The older man looks up from the lens when Peter calls out for him and subconsciously, Tony smiles wide at the mention of his name. “You ready for the good part?” Peter shuffles past a few of the volunteers towards the gate and Tony makes his way over to fencing. “Oh, I am very curious, kid.”  It’s not long before Peter’s by himself in the enclosure, the gate closed behind him. He casually strolls around, calling out the names of each pride member. Tony can’t help himself and inches closer to the fence.  “So, these lions are four years old?” “Nearing five, yeah. They were only a couple months old when we found them. Sure made a wreck of my house when I raised them,” Peter laughs. “Pro-tip-” He raises one hand and only now Tony notices Peter’s holding a small chunk of meat in it. “-if you ever raise lion cubs; two at the same time tops. Not three. Never four. Four will make you so sleep deprived you think you have five cubs on your bed.” The boy chuckles at his own comment. “That was an interesting night…” Tony shakes his head with a wide grin. “I can imagine.” Peter suddenly cocks his head- listening. He turns and spots the first lion slowly making his way towards him. “M- Tony,” Peter says, looking back at the billionaire for a second. “Meet Rogers.” “Already have,” Tony groans, which makes Peter laugh. His focus immediately shifts to the lion and he squats, preparing himself for the imminent cuddles. He tosses the meat from his hand directly into the lion’s mouth. “Rogers is the most fragile of the pride. He was severely malnourished when he came here and though he bounced back, the joints in his back legs are not great. M’gonna have to help him get into the truck.” Tony listens carefully. Peter’s voice is sweet and soft. The white lion huffs friendly and presses himself against Peter, who pushes back against him with his head. When Peter opens his eyes, he nods at another lion approaching in the distance. “That’s Banner. He’s curious, but incredibly shy. Also the smallest of this pride. If none of you were here he’d come say hi, but the volunteers make him nervous, so he’ll probably keep an eye on us from over there.” Peter nods in the general direction of where the lion is and Tony turns the camera to get a shot of Banner. Not much later, a gigantic white lion approaches. He holds his head high and has a big mane. When he gets closer, Rogers immediately pulls back and lays down next to Peter. The big white lion claims Peter’s space and attention and the boy laughs as he pets him. “Thor’s the biggest- OOF!” The lion drops his weight on top of Peter, whose smile doesn’t falter. “Also the heaviest,” he adds. The lion huffs once, almost as if he’s protesting against Peter’s comments. “And the loudest.” Peter scratches Thor under his chin and the lion automatically opens his mouth right next to Peter’s face. His head could fit in there twice. At least. And the teeth are absolutely gigantic. The sight has shivers run down Tony’s spine. This is normal . This is Peter’s life. He knows what he’s doing, the boy does this every day. Tony bites the inside of his cheek. Lions. These animals are lions . Yet they act like house cats around him. Thor gets up again and without any incentive, he jumps into the truck. “He knows what’s up,” Tony laughs as he turns to the truck to take a shot of Thor from close by. He’s startled by a low rumble coming from Thor’s throat. “Is that purring?” he asks nervously. Peter stands up again, patting some dirt from the back of his shorts. “Lions don’t purr, that’s a growl. You better take a step back Mr- Tony.” Tony would make an offhand comment on how even though Peter corrects himself, he still ends up calling him mister, if not for the lion’s growls increasing in volume. He takes a hasty step back and Peter tosses another chunk of meat into the truck for Thor to eat. “The only big cats that purr are cheetahs and cougars.” “Now, that’s a fun fact. Good to know,” Tony says sheepishly, trying to hide his nerves.  Tony frowns when Peter gets onto his knees in front of the truck.  “What are you doing?” “Helping Rogers.” “You’re gonna let that gigantic beast step on you?” “Better than lifting him,” Peter quips back. He turns his head and whistles. “Rogie- Rogie, boy, come on!” Peter’s voice is high as he coos at the lion. Tony presses his lips on top of each other to stifle a laugh. Rogie, boy. He should remember that one for the real Steve. Rogers responds like a trained dog, but skips Peter completely by putting his front legs against the truck. He hops, but can’t actually get in. “Buddy, your balls are in my face, could you please get up?” Peter pats Rogers’ thigh before quickly placing his hand down again to brace himself. With great difficulty, the lion places one foot on Peter’s shoulder, not pressing his full weight down on the boy. It was enough of a step to help him get in, though. Peter stands up straight again with a triumphant look on his face. He tosses another chunk of meat into the truck and Steve takes it gladly. Thor had already laid down again, not too bothered anymore. Peter cocks his head at Banner, who’s still a bit away, but has decided to come a little closer when he noticed Thor and Steve entering the truck. Peter smiles kindly and squats, presenting a chunk of meat to the shy lion. Tony is absolutely enthralled by Peter’s control. The boy seems relaxed but if you look closely you can see how in tune he is with everything. How he keeps an eye on his surroundings. Banner creeps closer and when he’s next to Peter, it’s obvious how small he actually is. His mane is also way shorter than that of the other two. Tony stares wide-eyed at how Peter handfeeds Bruce the piece of meat. Handfeeds . “Not scared you’re gonna lose a hand?” “Nah,” Peter replies quietly. “Occupational hazard. And I trust my lions more than I trust humans, to be fair.” “Ouch,” Tony says to make light of the situation, trying to hide how that comment actually kind of stung. Peter chuckles, combing Banner’s short mane with his fingers. “We met three days ago, m- Tony.” “Does it really take you that much effort not to call me mister?” Tony laughs, hoping to steer the conversation in another direction. “I was raised with manners.” He grins at Tony and tosses the next piece of meat into the truck. Banner doesn’t hesitate anymore and jumps into the truck as well. “It physically hurts me not to call you mister.” “Sure, kid.” Tony zooms in on Peter’s face. “Well then, if I get to call you Parker you have permission to call me Mr. Stark.” “Deal!” Peter exclaims immediately. The boy’s smile is so bright Tony is pretty sure he’d be blinded by it if he wasn’t wearing his sunglasses. After another minute, the lions in the truck are getting a little restless. Peter sighs audibly and turns to face the enclosure. “You can guess who’s fashionably late.” Peter glances at Tony behind him. “As per usual.” “Time management is not my strong suit! And I was early this morning,” Tony laughs. Peter places his hands on his hips, guiding Tony’s eyes to look at the boy’s pert butt. He quickly looks back up at the back of Peter’s head. Now’s not the time for filthy thoughts… Maybe later. “Staaark!” Peter belts. “Here, boy!” Peter makes a couple of those funny noises he made when Tony first met him. “Why do you do all that? Those… Uwus?” “Wha- the noises?” Peter snorts. “Can’t believe Tony Stark just said uwu.” “Hey-” the older man protests. “You said it first! And I am hip with the youngsters.” “You know what? I suddenly don’t feel so old anymore,” Peter says with a grin.  “You, Parker, are a meanie.” Tony points accusingly and Peter laughs. “Ouchies, that huwt my feewings.”  “Just explain the noise, please-” Tony lets out an overdramatic exasperated sigh, indicating to Peter that he’s not actually annoyed. Entertained, would be the right word. Peter nods with a smile and turns back to face the enclosure so he can make the sound once more. “The huffing is actually me mimicking the sound of a mama-lion,” Peter laughs. “It’s comforting to them.” “See, you could’ve just said that straight away.” Peter shrugs nonchalantly, but before he can reply with another quick-witted comment, they all spot the dark mane emerging from the bushes. Stark really does take his time, slowly placing each paw in front of the other, as if he’s on a catwalk. Tony chuckles at his own thought. Catwalk . Stark stares at Peter as he crosses the distance between them and Peter preps himself by sitting down already. “Stark’s the most affectionate of the four,” Peter says as the lion presses into him. The force with which Stark rubs his face against Peter’s has the boy laugh and push back. “Next to Adi and Nedda, he probably likes me the most out of all the lions here.” He pats Stark’s back. “He’s also the most handsome of all the male lions in The Sanctuary. Hands down.” “Isn’t that subjective?” Tony asks quickly, pretending the indirect praise isn’t making him tingle. Peter shrugs before he buries his face in the dark mane for a second. “For lion standards, this is a pretty boy. Stark’s also the most sexually engaged.” Tony freezes up at how casually Peter talks about this. He wonders if Peter is actually indirectly talking about him. Not about the lion he’s petting. “That is, if we would breed here.” “You don’t?” “I don’t breed captive lions. The ones that we have in The Sanctuary are saved from situations that make them unable to be released back into the wild again. We spay every female to prevent them from reproducing.” “Why not the males?” “Spaying both is a lot of hassle for something that’s not necessary. If we were to neuter the males they would still be affected by the females’ cycles. That’s why we spay the females, who are unaffected by the males." “Ah, that makes sense.” Peter studies the near-black mane on Stark. “Should probably take these boys out for a walk tomorrow. Lower their testosterone a bit.” Peter looks up at Tony and gestures at Stark’s head of hair. “There were a couple of wild lionesses right outside The Sanctuary about a week ago. Stark must’ve picked up on them and their cycle ‘cause he’s a little sexually frustrated right now. As is evident by the dark colour of his mane.” Tony licks his lips. This isn’t happening. This isn’t actually happening. He shifts where he stands, hoping his shorts hide his own growing sexual frustration. Peter smiles wide and gets Stark’s attention by presenting a chunk of meat in front of the lion’s face. He tosses it into the truck and before the others in there can get to it, Stark has jumped in. Peter carefully closes the cage on top of the truck and nods at Tony, who still hasn’t said anything in an attempt to hide how flustered he is right now. “Let’s go!”

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More: Next Chapter (yet to be posted) Masterpost (yet to be made)

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Taglist: @professional-benaddict​ @tonystarkweneedyou​

[riverdalepoet]

I’ve Got You  part 2

Word Count: 2236

Warnings: depictions of violence, abuse, and injuries.

Tag List: @romanticgumchewer   @serpentlullaby     @chipster-21  @lilhemmo

A/N:  @hugharekillianmelou was such a great help in making the edits of Callie’s brusies.  Lou truly is an editing genius.  In this chapter,  we find out a little about Sweet Pea and Calloway’s past.

 Leave your comments!!!! This story is on wattpad and Ao3.  Message me if you want to be added to the tag list. 

Chapter 1

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                 When Sweet Pea was through with them, Lonnie and Madden were tossed out back.  Hog Eye handed him a bar towel to wipe his bloody hands on. He had managed to take his shirt off in the heat of the fight. Sweets never enjoyed the constraints of any fabric against his straining muscles.  FP tossed it to him as he made his way over.  “Feel better?” he asked clapping a hand to his shoulder.

                 He shrugged nonchalantly, but his crooked grin gave him away making the former Serpent King laugh.  “Loads. They had it coming.”

                “Sweets!” Toni shouted from the top of the stairs.  He turned on the spot tensing instantly from the intensity in her voice.  “Get up here!”

                 FP motioned for him to go. He wrangled his shirt haphazardly over his head, taking the steps two at a time.  He heard the screams from the other side of the door along with the gentle shushing from Toni.  “PLEASE! Just let me go!”

                 He raced in, grabbing her thrashing arms and holding them firmly over her head.  “Callie, come on…” Toni was at a loss.  “Pea, she just woke up like this.  If she doesn’t calm down, she’ll pop those stitches.”

                Calloway fought against his hold desperately, eyes wild and nostrils flared. “Look at me, Callie,” he pleaded as Toni tried to still her legs kicking under him. He grunted with effort surprised at the fight left in her despite her injuries.

                 “No!” she cried out.  “I don’t want this.  I didn’t ask for this!”  Sweet Pea and Toni exchanged a grim look.  They recalled Dr. Ellis’ suspicions- terrified that he might have been right.  Sweet Pea knew that what Toni said was true.  If Callie didn’t snap out of this and quick, she’d be in worse shape than she started out in.

                “Calloway Camden, look at me right now!” he raised his voice using a little more force to restrain her arms. Slowly, she stopped her frantic movements.  Her eyes finally stilled on his face.  “Pea,” she choked out.  Sweet Pea released his grip on her arms, moving his palms to the bed on either side of her face.

                 “I’m right here.”  Nothing could have prepared him for the leap in his chest when her breaths started to hitch.  He scrambled to hold her, pulling her securely into his side and rubbing soothing circles on her arm.  Toni remained stock still at the foot of the bed, watching the scene with awe.  She couldn’t remember ever seeing Sweet Pea this compassionate.

                 “They hurt me, Sweet Pea.  They hurt me, and I thought they’d never stop,” she sobbed breaking his heart in the process.  He gently brushed his aching knuckles along the soft lines of her cheek.

                 “I know, angel.  I’m so sorry.  You’re safe now.  You’re here with me,” he murmured.  Her hands gripped his forearms as if at any moment he’d be gone again.  Callie flinched when Toni reached out a hand to pat her leg.  “Hey, it’s just Toni.  Do you trust me?” She nodded weakly.  “Good. I’m not going to let anyone hurt you again, Callie, I swear.”

                 Her gaze shifted to Toni and her eyes widened with embarrassment. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-“.

                 Toni held up her hand in reply and smiled. “Don’t sweat it.  I’m gonna go, though.  See you guys tomorrow.  Callie smiled at her and Sweet Pea followed suit.  The girl still wrapped in his arms was sinking deeper into the warmth of his chest.  He dragged his hands lazily up the length of her arm until she was almost out.  “I’ve missed you,” she mumbled falling back to sleep.

                 Sweet Pea smiled pressing his chin softly into her the crown of her head. “I’ve missed you too.”  The sweet smell of her shampoo took him back to the first time they met a little over ten years ago.

                Southside Elementary sucked. Sweet Pea hated the lunches, the library, and most importantly, the older boys that pushed him around at recess. His dad told him to suck it up and use his fists if he needed to but they never gave him a fighting chance. He learned that if he hid, they would find someone else to tease and he would be in the clear.

                 As soon as Mrs. Singer’s second-grade class made it outside, he made a dash for the safety of the blue slide.  He crouched down at the mouth of the slide and snuck further behind it walking backward until he bumped into something. “OW!” a small voice called out.

                 He whirled around ears burning bright red to see who had called out.  A tiny girl about his age with blonde hair and bright blue eyes stared back at him with a timid expression mirrored on her face.  “I- I’m sorry.  I was just-“

                “Hiding from the big kids, yeah, I know. You’re Sweet Pea, right?  I’m Calloway, but you can call me Callie.” she finished for him, wiping her nose on the sleeve of her dress.  Her arms reached to yank him against the curve as some other kids ran by.  He shuffled to her, clutching her arm in fear.

                 “Do they pick on you too?” he asked after the coast was clear.  After looking at her, he realized she was in his class.  She sat in the back and didn’t talk to anyone, but always doodled on her papers.

                 “No, but I saw them with you yesterday.  They shouldn’t be so mean.” The crinkle in her forehead made him giggle. It was the same look his mom made when she was mad.  Right as he opened his mouth to thank her, he saw the older boys approach them.

                 “Well if it isn’t Sweetie Pie…” they taunted. Sweet Pea cowered against the slide.

                 “His name is Sweet Pea,” Callie answered for him, rising to her feet.  Sweet Pea tried with all his might to keep her from going toe to toe with them. When he realized there was no stopping her, his hands gripped her shoulders, hiding behind her.

                 “Who asked you?  You letting little girls fight for you,” the oldest boy hissed out.

                 “I’m not all that littler than you.  My mommy told me if someone is being mean to stop them. His name is Sweet Pea and you need to leave him alone.”  Sweet Pea could not believe that she was standing up for him.

                 The group of boys tried to worm their way around her to get to Pea, but she wasn’t having any of it.  When one of them shoved her, she brought a sharp knee to his stomach sending him to the ground.  The others scampered off looking back at her with wide eyes.  Sweet Pea giggled at the sight of them running away looking as frightened as he did just yesterday.  There, with his face hidden safely in her hair, he knew that the quiet girl who went out of her comfort zone to defend him would be his best friend.

                 When she stirred slightly in her sleep, he adjusted his position to make himself comfortable. In that moment with the smell of strawberries soothing him the same way it did when he was seven, he followed her lead slipping right off to sleep.  

                 The morning came far too early for Callie. The sun streaming through the curtains woke her, and she moved to stretch like she always did before remembering what that would feel like to her battered body.  She felt fingers twirling the ends of her hair and jumped slightly. “Shhh, it’s just me,” Sweet Pea’s sleepy voice whispered in her ear.  She instantly relaxed back into the bed before turning to face him.

                 “You didn’t have to sleep on top of the covers, I’m sorry.” She lifted a fist to rub her eye, but Pea reached out to stop her before it connected with the bruises that painted her skin.  The light of day did nothing to fade the violent blues and reds that covered her and the very sight of them made Sweet Pea want to hit something again.

                 “Don’t be, you know I’m hot-natured. Hey princess, we gotta take you to Dr. Ellis today.  You up for it?” Her face scrunched up at him before she remembered her ankle.  The doctor had it bound up tightly to keep it in place, but the compression wasn’t doing much to lighten the throbbing.

                 “Yeah, can we get it over with?” He nodded, moving to get up from the bed. She rolled gently to her side finding the right way to stand without causing too much pain.

                 His hands helped her to her feet and she offered a simple smile in return.  “Whatever you want.  I’ve got your bag right here.  If you want to get ready in the bathroom, I can wait right here.  Just please yell if you need me.”  Callie thanked him shyly. As she limped her way to the bathroom, she could feel Sweet Pea’s worried eyes following her every move. From what she remembered of his protectiveness, he hadn't changed one bit.

                 After she was ready, Pea took his turn before he came out in his usual jeans and flannel.  He reached his hand out to lift her from where she sunk back into the bed. He went to lift her up in his arms and chuckled when she protested.  “Callie, how do you think I got you up here?  You really want to try going down the stairs on your own?”

                 Callie sighed giving into his hold on her and letting go of her argument.  “Okay, okay. Let’s just go.”  As they reached the bottom step, Callie looked at all the Serpents sleeping soundly on the cots cramped together.  She looked pointedly at Fangs and Toni, tears welling up in her eyes.  Sweet Pea followed her stare and squeezed her slightly.  “What are we gonna do, Pea?”

                 He turned heading for the door before answering her quietly, “We’re gonna make it work, Cal, we always do.”  When he didn’t turn for his bike, Callie questioned where they were going.  “Well FP just got back from seeing Jughead, so he offered us the truck while you were in the bathroom.”

                “Where’s Jughead?” Callie questioned as Sweets sat her on the bench seat.  “I thought he’d be here.”

                 “Penny Peabody and the Ghoulies left him for dead. He’s in bad shape.” Sweet Pea started the truck and merged onto Highway 14 towards uptown.  Callie looked out the window tracing the bruises on her arms. The Ghoulies hurt more than just her last night and that made her feel so much worse.

                 The drive to the clinic wasn’t long and soon she was being carried in the back door straight into an examination room.  Dr. Ellis prodded and poked until he was satisfied, ultimately deciding against surgery.  Once she was put into a stronger cast, the doctor started listing off instructions.  “Alrighty, Callie.  You’re gonna be on these crutches for the next six weeks and then we’ll see where that ankle is at, okay?”

                 She nodded noticing Sweet Pea typing notes quickly into his phone from the corner of her eye. “I’m gonna give you some meds for the pain, but make sure to eat something when you take them.  Otherwise, you’ll get sick.  Now those stitches and bruises… let’s see you back in a week. If you need me before then, Sweet Pea…”

                 Sweet Pea shoved his phone in his pocket and rose from the chair to shake the doctor’s hand.  “I’ve got your number.  Thank you, man, for everything.”  Once Dr. Ellis was out of the room, Sweet Pea slumped against Callie’s shoulder. “Thank God, I just knew he would want you to have surgery for that food,” he moaned.

                 She swung her legs against the table, examining the blue cast and testing her balance on the crutches that the nurse brought for her.  “Sweet Pea…”

                 His eyes snapped up immediately to her face and her bottom lip that was trapped between her teeth.  “What is it?”  Despite the years, he knew by her tone of voice that she was on the verge of tears.

                 “I’m clumsy enough on my own two feet.  How am I supposed to get around with these?” She pouted when he laughed at her question and indignant expression.  She felt helpless and as much as she was grateful for Sweet Pea, she hated having to depend on anyone.

 A warm hand landed on the small of her back as she hobbled towards the truck. Every few steps, she stumbled and Sweet Pea would reach to steady her every time. Looking at her in the direct sunlight made him feel horrible.  Her face, always so sweet and trusting, had one black eye, a bruised cheek from being slapped, and a pitifully split lip.  Her neck bore the proof of the rough way she was handled- choked and slung around.  Her arms had a jagged cut, no doubt from Malachi’s knife, and finger- shaped bruises at her elbows and forearms.  Her long legs- one in a cast and stitched up and the other with scrapes and burn marks- looked heartbreakingly frail.  As his eyes swept over every injury, he vowed to himself to get revenge on whoever put her through this and never allow it to happen again.   “I’ve got you, angel.  Don’t worry about that.”

[teardropsonrooftops]

Friendly Neighborhood Trans Spider-Man

Chapter Seven - Anxiety? Anxiety.

Breakfast with the Avengers is surprisingly normal. Well, except for Clint. Nothing about Clint is normal. He manages to sit on top of the fridge and messily eat his cereal. It gives Peter an idea. Natasha walks into the scene, Clint on the fridge and Peter on the ceiling, both trying, and failing, to eat their breakfast. Her eyes meet each of theirs as they both freeze, and she sighs. She ignores them. She grabs a muffin from the counter and sits at the table, all the while keeping her eyes off of the two.

It’s when Steve comes in that it all breaks down.

“Wha-” he freezes, mid-step into the kitchen. “Why?”

Clint continues slurping at the milk left in the now empty bowl. Natasha just shrugs. Peter almost drops his bowl, but in a graceless fumble he manages to catch it and drop the spoon instead. It hits the floor with a loud clang.

“Oops.”

Steve shakes his head. He picks up the spoon and takes the bowl away from Peter. He sets them gently in the sink.

“Aren’t you supposed to be getting ready for school, Peter? It’s almost 7:30, and class starts at eight.”

“Oh, crap,” he says, eyes wide. His feet detach from the ceiling, and he falls to the floor in a heap of limbs. “Ow.” He pushes himself to his feet and scrambles out of the room, throwing a, “Thanks, Steve!” over his shoulder.

He runs to the elevator and tells Jarvis to take him to his floor. He grabs his backpack from the couch and checks quickly to see if he has everything he needs. He does. The elevator takes him down to where Happy waits impatiently at the private entrance.

“Took you long enough. I’m not getting a speeding ticket because you like to take your time getting ready. It’s a twenty minute drive, kid.”

Peter sits heavily in the backseat of the car as Happy gets in the front. He ignores the driver’s mutters and tries not to focus on the anxiety rising up in his chest. He slows his breathing, aware of the binder compressing his chest. Bruce had cleared him to wear it for school, under the strict rule that he would take it off after the eight hours were up. Peter had agreed, of course.

His stomach hurts. His fingers tap out a rhythm on his leg, but he stops after Happy sends him a glare for the noise.

The car pulls up to Midtown High. Peter grabs his bag and flings open the car door. Happy grunts his displeasure at the action, but Peter zones him out. His head is spinning. There are so many people in front of the school, talking and laughing, causing noise. Peter walks through the crowd. He ignores the noise and slides past the moving bodies. He almost makes it to the doors.

A hand meets his shoulder, and he jumps. If the hand hadn’t pushed him towards the ground, he would have jumped onto the wall and stuck there. His heart pounds.

“You okay, Peter?” Ned asks with a frown.

His voice is concerned, but it’s too loud. Too loud and too much. Peter’s breathing gets shallow, rapid. Ned’s brow furrows, but Peter needs to get out. He needs to escape.

He moves on instinct. He’s outside; he blinks; he’s inside. He’s running through the halls, dodging people and jumping over backpacks. He hears muffled shouts but ignores them. Until a shoulder rams into his chest. He falls to the floor, hard.

His heart is all he can hear, the fast pace of a drum. His vision is blurry, but he recognizes the face towering above him.

“What do you think you’re doing, Penis?”

Peter, for once, doesn’t freeze. His reflexes catch the punch aimed for his ribs. His fingers dig into Flash’s fist. He pushes back, sending Flash through the air to crash into a locker. Peter pushes himself up and runs. He feels the stares of the students around him dig into his skin, but he runs.

He makes it to the third floor bathroom, the least used one in the school. He locks the door and slides down the wall. His stomach is killing him. He manages to dig through his backpack and pull out his mask. He tugs it over his head and breathes a sigh of relief.

The eyes block out the light, and the sound blockers in the mask kick in. He lets the silence and darkness calm his pounding heart. He breathes deeply. Somebody knocks on the door behind him, sending vibrations through his body, and he whimpers. His phone buzzes in his pocket. He throws it across the bathroom floor.

The cold tile underneath him focuses him. It reins him in, directs his attention to the hard floor. His hands flatten against it. It seeps through his skin and pulls him back to the real world. Slowly, the sound blockers fade out and the noise fades back in. The knocking had stopped, now replaced by steady breathing from behind him. He recognises the pattern of breaths. Ned. But there’s someone else. MJ sits next to Ned on the other side of the door.

Peter feels his muscles relax. His shoulders drop, and the tension in his arms releases. His stomach ache lets up slowly. His breathing steadies, mimicking Ned’s slow and deliberate breaths.

“Should I notify Mr. Stark?” Karen asks softly through his mask.

He shakes his head.

Ned’s whisper, only picked up because of Peter’s enhanced hearing, is spoken after Karen. “You okay, Peter?”

“Ye-yeah,” he says, voice cracking and muffled through the mask. “Yeah, I’m alright.”

“Class starts in five minutes,” MJ says just as softly as Ned and Karen.

“We wanted to make sure you weren’t late,” says Ned. “Also, I wanted to tell you that Flash was caught by a teacher after you got away. She said he had to go to Morita’s office. Apparently she had watched him hit you first.”

That makes Peter smile, before he realises that this could all backfire because of Flash’s parents’ reputation in the school, and his smile drops. He looks to where he threw his phone. The screen is shattered. He shuffles over to it and tucks it into his backpack.

“Karen?” he asks before he takes the mask off. “Could you text Happy and tell him my phone broke? I don’t want him or Mr. Stark to think I wasn’t responding for a bad reason.” At the AI’s assent, Peter tucks the mask next to his broken phone at the bottom of his bag.

Peter stands on shaky legs. He takes unsteady steps to the door and unlocks it, pushing it open. Ned stands in front of him with MJ off to the side. Ned opens his arms, giving Peter a choice. Peter dives into the hug. He presses his face into Ned’s shoulder and almost sobs as MJ’s hand rubs his arm.

“Come on,” Peter says. He wipes his eyes with the back of his hand and pulls away from the two. “Don’t want to be late to first period.”

[marvelousbirthdays]

Happy Birthday, deedo2313

February 12-  Darcy/Rumlow/Rollins (triple agents), I'd love something lighthearted with sassy and/or bamf Darcy, please. No Infinity War drama, please & while smut would be nice, I'l be fine with whatever you write, for @deedo2313

Written by @lj-todd 

The steady sound of her sneakers against the belt of the treadmill was almost soothing in a strange sort of way. A reminder of the continuous. The permanent.

Ever since Jane had decided she and Thor were no longer a thing, Darcy had felt as though she’d been stuck in a sort of limbo, certain that, at any moment, the people running the fancy new Avengers facility would realize she wasn’t all that useful without her best friend and give her the boot as well as a firm warning about what would happen if she betrayed the confidence of the facility or the people who called it home.

But it had been months and, so far, there were no signs that she was about to be given the boot.

Part of her was starting to wonder if maybe it had something to do with the two agents who always seemed to be around whenever she did anything other than hide out in her room. 

She hadn’t noticed at first, not being the most observant gal on the planet, especially not when she was busy trying to make Wanda feel more at home in the facility, and in America in general, while the younger woman was still finding her footing as a superhero. But, and mainly because Wanda had pointed it out, she had noticed after yet another training session with Wanda and Natasha, from which she still had bruises thanks very much to Russian bombshell, that the agents in question, Rumlow and Rollins, were always lingering about, watching her with what Wanda called not-so-subtle interest.

Darcy had actually started paying attention after that, certain that Wanda was wrong, but had been surprised to discover her young friend was very much correct. Not that Darcy would admit it. No sir. Not in this life. She did not wish to be on the receiving end of Wanda’s smug, Sokovian smile any time soon.

Everywhere she went in the facility, be it the media room, the pool, the gym, the kitchen, anywhere really besides her own room, within a few minutes Rumlow and Rollins would appear.

They had, in the beginning, kept to themselves. Their conversations mostly guy talk about this or that but, over time, they had started dragging Darcy into the thick of things. Usually by asking her opinion or trying to get her to agree with one over the other. But then it had had changed again and they had started carrying actual conversations with her. Asking questions and trying to get to know her. Like they didn’t know the big wigs had some file on her somewhere with all the information about her a person could want.

Not that she really minded them asking. It was decent of them, really, especially considering they were trained spies and former HYDRA agents.

Though, according to Rumlow, they’d been HYDRA agents for all of five minutes.

Rollins had explained it was more like a year but, after a mission nearly resulted in him dying and instead left him with the very impressive scar on his chin and a robotic eye, they’d realized that, to HYDRA, they were just cogs in a machine. Disposable and replaceable. So, as Rumlow put it, they’d booked ass to Fury, hoping for mercy in exchange for information. It had resulted in them becoming spies for Fury within HYDRA while still maintaining their cover as HYDRA agents. And they’d done damn convincing jobs.

Natasha was still bitter over the fact that she hadn’t realized the truth about them. And she showed it by taking out her frustration over it during sparing matches with them.

Which was what was happening right now in fact and, really, one of the biggest reasons Darcy had chosen this particular treadmill today. It gave her a perfect view of the sparring mats and a rather nice view of Rollins’ toosh in those black compression shorts as the big man attempted, for probably the millionth time, to get the advantage on Natasha who, smooth as a snake, managed to slip from his grappling hold and turn the tables on him.

Rumlow was barking from the sidelines, chastising Rollins’ sloppy technique, which earned him a rather rude hand gesture from the bigger man before Natasha, taking advantage of Rollins’ momentary distraction, managed to drop and pin Rollins with a leg across his throat and his arm locked between hers.

Darcy had to give it to him, he put up a struggle, trying to fight free but Natasha doubled down, well accustomed to training with Steve by this point, and, within minutes, and much to Rumlow’s upset, Rollins tapped out.

Natasha grinned, vicious as a viper, as she released him, rolling away and to her feet with ease and grace, snatching up her towel and, head held high, declared she’d kicked their asses enough for one day before sauntering off in the direction of the showers.

“Hey, kiwi,” Darcy called, still jogging away, grinning when Rollins shot her an amused and curious look. “You do realize you’re never going to beat her in like…a million years, right? She’s all sorts of crazy Russian ninja.”

“Russia doesn’t have ninjas, sweetheart,” Rumlow interjected with that drawl of his that did funny things to her insides and, to hide that fact, Darcy rolled her eyes.

“Nope,” she agreed, pressing the button to slow and then turn off the treadmill, grabbing up her towel. “They’ve got Natasha. And I am suddenly very glad she’s training me and not either of you.”

Rollins chuckled while Rumlow huffed.

“Oooh, all big and bad all of a sudden aren’t we, sweetheart,” Rumlow teased as Darcy moved away from the treadmill. “Last time I looked you still carry that cute little taser of yours.”

Darcy shot him a look, moving, not towards the showers as she had originally intended but towards the mats.

“I dropped a literal god with that <i>cute little taser</i>,” she reminded with an upward tilt of her chin. She was still quite proud of that actually. “What have you done that compares?”

“Took down Cap with a stun baton,” Rumlow fired back, which made Rollins roll his eyes as he chugged half the contents of his water bottle.

“Nearly took him down,” the bigger man corrected, grinning when Rumlow gave him a sour look. “He didn’t actually drop.”

“And you would know how, Mr I Was Unconscious On The Floor?”

Darcy couldn’t help but giggle when Rollins chucked his water bottle at Rumlow, who easily ducked it.

“And you guys were supposed to be some of the best HYDRA had,” she laughed, shaking her head. “Oh, boy, no wonder Cap took you down so easy. Heck, even given what little I know I probably <i>could</i> take you down at this point. Without my taser.”

She was still laughing until she realized both Rumlow and Rollins were looking at her, near matching shark grins on their face.

“Is that a challenge,” Rollins asked quietly, still smiling, moving to stand at his full height and damn it all that was not far. No one should be that good looking. Especially not after getting their butt kicked by someone as tiny and delicate looking as Natasha.

A part of Darcy’s brain screamed <i>Danger! Abort! Abort!</i> but, like so many other things, like tasering a giant blonde guy in the middle of a New Mexico desert, she did not heed the warning. Instead, she tossed her towel aside and stepped onto the mats.

“Bring it on, kiwi.”

Rollins kept smiling as he stepped back onto the mat, settling easily into a stance, Rumlow jeering about little girls who needed to be shown a thing or two, but Darcy, knowing he was trying to distract her, kept her focus on Rollins. It had been lesson number one. Never lose focus on your target.

She went to move, to try a strike, one of the simpler ones Natasha had shown her, only to let out a startled cry as her arms were suddenly grabbed from behind, her back pulled flush to Rumlow’s chest as the man immobilized her arms, keeping her in a firm but careful grip.

“The hell,” she grouched, twisting to glare at Rumlow over her shoulder. “That’s cheating!”

“That’s learning a valuable lesson, sweetheart,” the man purred, eyes like dark bourbon and honey, and Darcy twitched in his hold. “Never underestimate your enemy. You have to expect the unexpected.”

“Who are you, Yoda?”

She twisted a bit, trying to break free, but Rumlow easily held her.

Catching Rollins move out of the corner of her eye, Darcy tried to gain the upper hand at least a little and swung her leg, attempting to catch the big man with a kick, but he was quick, quicker than his size suggested, and he snared her ankle, yanking upwards and making her yelped as her other foot left the floor as she tried to stabilize herself. She felt a heat rush through her as Rollins’ hands curled beneath her thighs, holding her, stepping closer, using his grip to draw her knees up around his hips.

“Remember,” the big man said, voice pitched low, making her shiver as she realized how they were holding her, what it might look like later when some tech reviewed the day’s security footage. “Learn to anticipate, to predict, your opponent. Turn his actions into your weapons against him.”

Darcy shivered again when she felt Rumlow’s breath against her neck as Rollins’ thumbs swept against her knees in tiny circles. From her new position held between them she also felt something else.

“Guys,” she barely breathed the word, squirming slightly, realizing just as quickly that Rumlow wasn’t the only one showing interest. Rollins’ compression shorts weren’t really doing anything to hide his.

“We wanted to take this slower,” Rumlow breathed, voice still that smoky purr and she felt her cheeks heat as a blush stole across her face. “Do it properly. Woo you. Take you on a few dates. Show you that it isn’t just about sex or something stupid like that.”

“Wanted to show you we think you’re worth more,” Rollins added, stepping closer, causing Darcy’s legs to instinctively curl around his waist, suddenly able to feel him just like she could feel Rumlow.

“What if…” She bit her lip, glancing from Rollins and over her shoulder to Rumlow then back again. “What if I don’t want slow? What if…What if I want the pair of you to give me a private training session. A <i>very</i> private training session. In your room. Right. Now.”

She felt Rumlow grin against her neck as he pressed a kiss to the spot just below her jaw and her heart leapt, heat pooling low in her belly and spreading quickly, while Rollins smiled at her, his thumbs still rubbing those slow, teasing circles against her skin.

“I’d say that sounds like a good idea,” Rollins said, meeting Rumlow’s gaze over her shoulder. “What do you say, commander?”

“I say I like how our sweetheart here thinks.” Rumlow pressed another kiss to Darcy’s neck, making her gasp and squirm.

This was definitely not how she had expected things to go but, as Rumlow finally pressed a kiss to her lips, as Rollins rocked his hips against her, letting her really feel him, Darcy couldn’t have think of anything better.

[shintorikhazumi]

Heart Trouble: Chapter 2

A/N: Delayed.

Please sue me if you’d like… I am soooooo sorry. I know, I’m a horrible person.

But first, do join me in screaming…

FINALLY!!!!!

Khazumi pulled herself together!!!

Not that I meant to be messed up and all, but my past month was just.. ugh… but anywhooooo… on to the story!

Btw, thanks for nearly 500 follows! (T-T) Maybe this should have been a 500-follower fic… Thank you all so much for the support and patience!!! I’m so happy to have such nice people as you be part of my experience as a writer! You all are my inspiration!

Also, some facts might be wrong xD I did my research randomly and some discoveries late xD. Sooooo… forgive those.

So… I chose this end out of 4. I’ll post the alternate ones in one go maybe. Or maybe not. The alternate ones are either happier or sadder so let’s see how that goes… but for now, I chose the first thing, the original thought I had in mind, which is this.

I REALLY want to make you guys cry… Is that bad? I don’t think I’d be successful tho… : (

But I think I did badly on this… it seems too strewn about and confusing… sorry if it’s not good… my bad…

@hermaeu5mora @r-lon @melphis-amekia @tortaki @laulink @utsuho @silverteresa @emutant @fatedestiny @croissantrose71 @mrs-kagari since I think you guys need to see this first after waiting on me so long!

Enjoy?

~Shintori Khazumi

~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~

  “You can’t love me.”

“Why?”

“Because I don’t care.”

Lie.

She cared too much. But there was a fact they both had to consider. One she realized, and one Akko was about to know.

“I just wanted to tell you, you know. It’s not like I expect something back. I just didn’t want to have regrets when I left.”

“That’s exactly why.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You can’t tell me you love me and leave me behind.” Diana looked into her eyes, silently admitting to herself that there was a possibility to her returning these feeling, her gaze intense, compelling, yet kind. “I don’t want to love you back if you’re already dead. So you can’t tell me that if you’re not going to live for me.”

-

“Diana… I’m sorry.”

 Words once known as positive were now negatively viewed.

 The sound was deafening. A noisy silence shattered by a single tone. That monochromatic beep.

She was pushing… pushing hard, giving enough pressure, working relentlessly to recover this fleeting life. The life that was literally right at her fingertips.

The tears that trailed down her face, falling in salty drops onto those white hospital robes donned by the person below her, slowly increased, blurring her vision, raising the difficulty on her task.

“Damn you, you promised!”  Diana cried, pushing harder, lending a breath, lips barely brushing, before pushing again, pushing.

Pushing, pushing, pushing. Breathe into her lungs. Pushing, pushing, pushing. Breathe into her lungs. Pushing, pushing, pushing. Breathe into her lungs.

You promised me!

It was an endless cycle, repetitively necessary, again and again until Diana’s body was tuned to doing it in autopilot, the moments slowing down before her as she saw every single thing.

“Akko!”

Every. Single. Thing.

“Doctor Cavendish?!”

The red line on the monitor, the paling skin of a woman she had grown quite fond of. The gasps and disbelieving faces of the nurses. The frantic nature of the room. Her own sweat raining down on her patient, the puffy breathes she released.

“You promised so please… FIGHT!” She could even hear her own desperation in her weakening voice.

Push. Push more. Push!

“I believe in your believing heart.”

The heart she was pushing, guiding along back into life, assisting in pumping, trying to restart. The heart that was so selfless, so pure, so loving. She trusted it. She believed in it.

“Now Fight!” She begged, prayed, cried, commanded, instructed.

Fight!

…

Nothing.

There was nothing.

And after Diana had tried so much, cried so much-

… nothing.

“Ah…kko.”

Her voice was raspy. It was hoarse. It had not sounded that way in years, yet here it was, BROKEN and SORROWFUL. Wobbly, weak, crying.

Because of nothing.

Because there was nothing.

And there was just…

Nothing.

 She cried. She cried so much.

She did not want to give up, but it was almost as if she had no choice she had been pushing, trying for so long, and now was reduced to a crying mess on a nurse’s shoulder.

Her tears were insurmountable, uncountable, heavy and pained. They were bad, bad tears. Mad, sad, bad tears.

Her heart was flooded by the emotion causing her raining tears.

And All was silent as they bowed down for a while in sadness…

There was a solemnity absent from the few fighting, warring, waning moments before. It was the quiet opposite of the rampaging torrent of emotions and desperation from earlier.

The quiet sobs replacing the once loud wails.

There was nothing but silence and tranquility for Diana. An excruciating peace.

She wanted the sound to come back to her, to fill her… but she was still in mourning. She wanted the quiet respect that Akko would have deserved. Should deserve, but also… shouldn’t if it meant she’d live.

It was so quiet.

Everyone, everything was.

-before one sound alerted them back.

Diana’s tears dried, evaporated into thin air as she pulled away from the older nurse’s comforting embrace as she tripped over her feet just to reach that bed, that cushioned place where her dearest charge was laying.

She rubbed her eyes, tried to check her ears, pinched herself just to ensure that she was not dreaming.

The monitor had started up again, although slowly but getting steadier, faster to a normal pace, minute by minute.

Diana’s eyes widened, as she hurriedly looked back to the once paper-white looking face to see the slightest change in the earlier, deathly pale complexion of her patient.

It may have been very subtle.

A lighter pink dusting those slightly tanned cheeks. The stabling rise and fall of that strong chest. And one thing that brought the smallest sad, yet happy tears to her eyes-

Akko remained unconscious, asleep, but a small smile played on her lips.

It was enough for Diana to tip up her own, relief washing all over the entirety of her being.

“Akko…”

She was alive.

She was LIVING.

If only for Diana’s sake and her own.

 ~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~

 Stroking brunette tussles had become a hypnotizing habit for the good doctor, seated in the chair, leaning her weight on the bed as the sunset provided that beautiful touch on this already glowing girl’s resting frame.

Diana found it hard not to watch Akko, every part of the girl. From the rising and falling of her chest, to the little movement of her nostrils, the twitches of her eyes, brows, fingers, lips.

She was far too paranoid, too afraid to look away.

Because what if-

What if Akko stayed resting? What if she no longer awoke?

When the attack happened, Diana felt that time had run far too slow for her liking. It was the longest set of minutes, moments in her entire lifetime, and knowing that if Akko stayed out for a time exceeding the limit, chances would be slim.

Of course, the nurses had told Diana it had occurred for barely three minutes, but still… there could have been casualties, risks if it had taken just a bit longer than that.

She wouldn’t take a chance again.

Yes, the operation would be done first thing in the morning, no more waiting.

It was time to make a decision herself, Diana knew. A very painful one.

Slipping her fingers between Akko’s she lay her head on the side, trying her best to get what little bits of sleep she could to be able to endure tomorrow.

This would not be an operation she would fail.

 ~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~

 The steady tick of the clock harmonized with the beat of an organ against the patient’s chest, ever rushing as if it needed to beat the timer in this race of sound, and suddenly, Akko felt discomfort. A heavy burden on her chest, flashes of worrying memories strewn all about her head as her body made her remember the pain, the gasping, the desperateness, the need of air- of life.

If she were to call for help, her only ability to do so was to make any semblance of sound through the hurt in pure hopes of someone hearing her. The pain was worsening and it was far too much as Akko couldn’t even open her eyes anymore, listen or even feel a sign of a different presence as her hearing was overwhelmed by the wild drumming of her heart, as her senses were overridden with agony.

“DI… na… some- one…he…lp.”

Chest tight, lungs compressed, she was as a fish out of water, needing relief.

The brunette had started crying, emotions and physical state hurting to an anguishing point. Her body was paralyzed in both fear and excruciating pain as her heart hammered in her body, spreading all the horrible things throughout.

“H-…lp!” Her voice came out a whimper, a groan, and tears kept falling from her eyes as she felt she might just lose consciousness.

-But then a sudden soothing effect overcame every bad thing in that one moment.

“Shhhh... sshh. “ A voice cooed, Akko’s hair being finger-combed back, sweaty bangs brushed to the side as she felt a hand rub her chest in circles, trying to take away all the pain. “You’ll be alright. You’ll be just fine. I’m here.” She felt warm lips touch her burning forehead, cold sweat on her body.

Once she found herself to be calm enough Akko desperately willed her eyes to open, finding them far too heavy.

“Di… a…na?” She grimaced at the sound of her own voice; rough, coarse horrible, in pain. And she had yet to cease her waterworks. She wanted to cry some more, fully realizing how pathetic, weak and sorry she was, and her hands shook as they searched for a place to hold, to seek warmth and comfort from.

Finding purchase on the clothes on Diana’s back, they clung, just as tightly as Akko was to her own life. “Di…a…naaaa…” She sobbed, wailed. She cried, finally fearing for the first time in her sickly life, the claws of death. “I don’t- I don’t wanna, not after you… help… please.”

And again her heart was beginning to start that blisteringly deadly pace.

------

Diana panicked.

“Shh…. Akko, dear. Please stop crying. Please-!”

“I can’t! I can….t… Dia-“ Akko was beginning to choke on her tears, heart causing her throat to tighten. “Di-“

“Please, Akko! Please stop crying. Calm down. I need you to calm down enough for me to help you with your medicine.”

“I-“

The doctor searched for any method; she wanted to help Akko. She needed to use words she knew would affect Akko deeply enough to overrule her fear.

“I beg you to trust me.”

And the sobs hushed, quieted in but a second, Akko’s tears died down, and her breathing became more free, more relaxed and well-paced just as her heart followed.

“I do.”

It seemed the simple thought of trusting her life into Diana’s hands was enough of a reassurance, a comfort, a wall of protection for them both. And this was not a one-sided deal. Akko needed to trust in Diana as much as Diana needed that trust. They would work as one.

“Thank you Akko.”

Doctor Cavendish gave her a small peck on the head before she readied herself to get up just to fetch her patient’s medicine on the nearby bedside table. She was surprised, and not at the same time, as she felt resistance, something holding her back.

“Akko?” The shaky, cold hands of a tiny fearful soul clung to her desperately, unwilling to let go. Eyes wide and tears being held back, the physician swore she could hear the tiniest of whimpers come from the smaller girl as her grip remained firm, eyes locked to crystal blues. It compelled the doctor.

So Diana sat back down.

“What is it, Akko?” She questioned, wiping off the cooling sweat on the girl’s face, as well as those drying tears, smoothing out her hair and gently caressing her cheek. “Do you need something? I just need to get your medicine and I’ll be right with you.” She spoke, this time, seeking permission from the shaken brunette.

“Diana… please.” The girl began, lips quivering, somehow struggling to form a sentence. Diana began to fear whatever words would exit the girl’s mouth if this was how she was asking. Yet, she needed to know what was ailing, plaguing, Akko’s mind and heavy heart.

“Akko?” Her concern-laced voice alone was enough to break Akko down as her cries had started once more.

“I’m scared.”

There was a loud boom, a sudden flash that overrode their silence.

“I don’t wanna die anymore.” She sobbed, hands travelling to clutch at Diana’s front robes. Diana felt a crack in the air, and it was suddenly impossibly cold. Rain pelted softly against their room’s window. “I want to live with you.” In more ways than one, Akko meant.  “Diana, please.” Her sobs turned to wails, to sniffles, dying down into silent tears. “Diana… Please… Help…”

“-I love you.”

Her throat ran dry as words failed to form, voice weakening as she stared at the sorry state.

She had Akko release her a moment, for just a moment, so quick Akko would only be confused of her actions and not hurt as Diana rushed to the pill bottles, popping some in her hand as she picked up a glass of water along the way back.

“Drink.” She managed to say. Akko obediently took her medicine, eyes still on Diana as she handed back her glass that the doctor set aside before engulfing her in a tight hug.

“Diana?”

“Listen…” She breathed, trying to form words, but failing as indistinctive sounds left her lips. “I can’t… ou… o.”

It was an incoherent mumble, and Diana knew that Akko could feel the slight dampness on her hospital gown, as she asked what was wrong and for a repetition of what the surgeon had just said. Diana felt a hand cradling her face, trying to get her to meet wine red orbs, to tell her eye to eye, to help both their fears.

“Diana?” The patient asked, voice wobbly.

“I can’t lose you too.” Finding her voice, the young doctor spoke more clearly now, hands wiping away Akko’s sweat and tears. She had grown an emotional attachment to her patient, despite promising to never again do so. It was impossible with Akko. And now, feelings of great loss were creeping back in. “So I need you to work with me?” She said, but it sounded more of a question than a request. “Please? We can only do this together.”

Akko nodded, hands covering Diana’s as they comforted one another.

“Sleep now. The operation is in a few hours.”

 ~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~

 The infiltration of light was the only wake-up call Diana would need as she practically rushed the halls, not meaning to leave Akko alone, but needing to prepare herself for this day.

Finally, the operation day.

Going through her self-care routine at double the usual speed, Diana rushed back in her fresh uniform, wanting to be the one to wake Akko and give her the much needed emotional prep for this important milestone in her life.

Opening the room door without so much as a creaking sound, Diana shuffled her way silently over to Akko’s bed, seating herself slowly on the bed. Her hand quite automatically travelled the last few distance of space between her and her patient, heeding rest on the smooth skin of her face, caressing the brunette’s cheek lovingly.

“We can do this.” She whispered, leaning forward, doing something she would not have dreamed to dare do, kissing the roses on Akko’s face. “We have to.”

Admiring the way the patient’s body rose and fell with every breath and how her lashes fluttered every once in a while, as well as the way casual murmurs would slip out was something Diana felt she should let happen for but a few minutes more before they were thrown into the chaos of operations and surgery.

Her moments of admiration were broken by the mumbling of her waking charge, eyelids batting open and close, red rubies, beautiful gems revealed for the world to see.

“Good morning, Akko.”

Blinking the last few remnants of sleep from those beauties, Akko managed a yawn before her body stretched, kinks and knots out of her system. At last, she turned to Diana, preparing her best ‘I-just-woke-up’ smile.

“Good morning.”

 ~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~

 Diana’s feet shuffled across the slick, tiled floor, stomps of desperation creating sounds that bounced off the bleach-colored walls that led up to the silent chaos which was the Operating Room.

Somehow, these halls seemed just a tad too long, as if they were trying Diana’s patience, ensuring she would never reach the OR. Her mind was already a jumble of thoughts and fear and confidence-marred, and worry and care for Akko. The aforementioned, however, took up the biggest space in her mind.

After what seemed like hours, she breathed relief at a familiar entrance sight.

The usual twin doors greeted her, suddenly feeling very alien to Diana, but they were not alone in welcoming her back as a lone figure, brown hair and familiar red eyes stared into her very soul with a pleading look she had only ever seen once in the entirety of her life. The man she had been subconsciously wondering about, as well as his whereabouts during this day of great need.

Ready to offer a greeting and a few questions pertaining to Akko and her health and some arrangements, the blonde found herself cut off as the man opened his mouth, silence exiting it, noticing the bloodshot eyes of the man. His body language indicated he wanted to say something, so she let him, walking closer and listening.

“Please, Doctor…” The raspy, clearly crying voice, begged, exhaustion evident through his whole being. “Let her have it.”

Those words were all Diana needed to understand, halting in her tracks, eyes wide, mouth being muffled by the hand she had slapped over it. She shook her head no, in complete rejection to the all too obvious request.

“We…” He choked on his words as the blonde reached out to try and place a comforting hand, but was stopped, rejected as she could only how this man found it harder and harder to speak the longer this conversation went. “We both know she won’t make it with just the ICD implant… please… we both know what’s best right now. Ever.”

Diana let the few tears she had felt stay in, willing herself not to cry for both their good. “No, sir…” She spoke after finding her words, voice broken. “I can’t do that. That would go against her wishes.” The physician said, reaching for his shaking hands, clenched so tightly into fists, with his face red from all the emotions swirling about.

“But Doctor, you know this! Please take it! Please understand.” Again, Diana flinched as she was begged to do such a horrendous task. She had enough willpower to decline, she hoped, to deny, she swore.

“I cannot. I will not.”

“Diana!” He raised his voice a bit, trying to show his own will through it.

“Sir, Akko would break!” If he had forgotten, Diana was now ready to remind him that this Cavendish had a will just as strong and would hardly back down.

“She needs to live!”

Diana’s breath hitched in her throat, the one things she would not acknowledge, that Akko was actually on the brink of near death; She was being shown that she had to accept this reality, looking upon Ken who sobbed more openly, crying louder this time, gripping the front of those white medical robes, making everything feel as real as it really was.

Diana’s own frame shook with sorrow as her hands covered the older male’s. They were cold and rough, scarred, but loving in the way they held Diana’s back, eyes piercing into Diana’s soul.

Their breaths were ragged and tired, hearts beating painfully strong in their cages, their gazes intense in this stand-off. But they found their mouths sealed, tongues tied, words difficult, silence between them.

“Please…” Ken spoke after a while. “Please… know that… I don’t want this either.” The words seemed foreign, hard, choking him as he expressed them. “I want a life with my daughter, my only, sweet beloved daughter. She’s given me the joy of my life, and it’s a life I’d choose to spend with her forever, protect her by her side… If I could.”

Diana gasped, the thought absolutely vile!

If he could? He should be able to! Diana wouldn’t allow death if she could help it!

“You ca-“

Ken’s sad smile spoke to Diana and she immediately hushed, only now noticing the hums of machines from the ward, only now conscious of how cool the air conditioning was. She now realized what Ken wanted her to… He couldn’t. They both knew this. She now felt what he wanted her, needed her to do. She now knew the direness of his need.

“I’m sorry, Doctor Cavendish.”

Diana’s eyes, full of shock and sorrow, never broke contact with the father, broken and spilling out; a healthy heart beating there within him.

None of them wanted this resolution. Not Diana, not Ken, and most especially not Akko. She would never consent to such plans.

But here the good doctor was, being evil. Bad, sinful to even considering to allow it, no, to surrendering her promised will and accepting Ken’s, all for Akko’s sake that she would not want if these were to be the consequences.

Diana felt wretched, two simple, but extremely heavy words falling from her mouth.

“I understand.”

 ~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~

 Steps heavy, Diana thought her feet to be quite the uncooperative pair as her walk to that one bright, yet equally dark room seemed far too long for her liking.

Inconvenient sorrow, was that all she could feel? Perhaps, and it was causing her more distress, adding on to her negativity and taking away her collectiveness.

All the ‘what if’s and ‘but what about’ and all those bad things came to her. She was afraid. Afraid of so many things she hadn’t been afraid of before. Afraid to do what she had always done, afraid of the risks she had taken all the time, afraid of failing so badly for the first time and she had yet to start.

The sterilization, or as Diana thought it to be “cleansing” routine for operation felt quite different, slower than usual, as if she was being more careful that absolutely no dirt would be present on her body as nurses assisted her in changing, placing her gloves on her hands.

Now, she stood in front of that one last barrier, ready to see her patient, ready to see the one she was to operate.

Behind that clean door was a life about to be balanced in her hands, whether it stay perfectly still, or tilt to death that she did not want. It would be a seesaw of life and death should anything go amiss.

Looking back to a clock hanging on the wall, Diana swallowed the air caught in her throat, shooting a prayer to the heavens. There were things she believed, she could never accomplish alone and needed the help of at least any power out there. She couldn’t risk anything, she thought, she knew.

And standing by the door now being held open for her, she walked in.

It was time.

 ~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~

 If stillness and peace were forms of beauty, Diana thought lifelessness should never be grouped together with them, no matter how stunning a sleeping beauty could be if it meant it was for eternity.

Akko’s eyes were closed and her breathing was slow due to the anesthesia she had been given, her state assisted by the machine that hummed its tune close by.

Despite being hooked up to all those wires and with all the movement around of the prepared workers, Akko was still the picture of beauty and serenity as she was just… there. Lying still and waiting. Trusting her life into everyone’s hands.

Feeling her hands shake a bit, Diana squeezed them, begging them to stop as they all offered a prayer to guide them in this operation, and never had Diana prayed so hard to any god for help that she would not fail.

And the battle began.

Making the usual markings for surgery, Diana drew a line, about eight to ten inches in length, her hands doing their best to keep steady as she moved to her next task.

“Scalpel.”

Cutting through Akko’s breastbone, bit by bit, Diana began to expose that oh-so-pure, kind, loving, believing heart beating its rhythm for the world to hear its cries.

“Connect her to the bypass machine.” Diana instructed her helpers, a pair complying as they tried to keep the blood flowing through Akko’s system, excluding her heart.

Diana smiled beneath her mask sadly, hands proceeding to “cut out” the heart of her patient carefully, slowly; expertly and skillfully removing the diseased heart and calling for the new one.

The new one…

Diana gazed upon this organ, this gift of love that was quite literally entrusted into her hands. Her dirty, blood-stained hands. She stared at it as if it were the most expensive item in the world, the most beautiful gem, a precious artifact.

And she wanted to cry.

But she knew she could not, now returning to her procedure as she began placing this irreplaceable and ultimate present of affection into Akko’s living body, sewing it into place, pouring her own love and care into this work.

“First the major blood vessels, carefully, not too tight… but no leaks, Diana Cavendish.” She spoke silently to herself. “Just as always.”

She nodded gratefully as she felt her sweat being dried as she toiled in her work, finishing cleanly, closing the incision as all the occupants in the room awaited for the blood flow to be restored and the heart to beat and show case its new life and compatibility.

They waited.

And waited.

“Doctor?”

Diana for a moment was frozen still, before her senses came back, eyes still on Akko, mind surprisingly clear and working well.

“She may need a bit of a shock.”

“Understood.”

This was it. This needed to work. This would signify the start of Akko’s new life should it be successful- no, it would be successful.

As they did the necessary preparations for this course of action, Diana took one final look before nodding to her co-operators.

“Clear!”

  ~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~

 Akko awoke to the feeling of being part human, part machine, eyes blinking, clearing and seeing so many lifelines, tubes on so many parts of her body that were the only ways to support her constitution as of the moment. Despite having just woken up, she still felt a bit tired, her chest and throat somewhat sore, but admitted to feeling so much better. She felt her heart beating stable, calmly yet lively at the same time in her chest and it made her so happy to be in good health.

The next thing she noticed was that she was no longer in her usual hospital room, she assumed she was transferred to the ICU for a better recovery, and she sighed, then jolted as another sigh followed hers.

In slight surprise that melted to loving care, she spotted Diana by her bedside, spilling over her chair in her hospital garments, sleeping and in a state she dared not show the public eye lest she ruin her image.

“Hey…” Akko spoke to the sleeping woman. “I see you’re tired.” She giggled, finding it cute as the girl’s nose twitched a bit.

A bit sad at the realization that she could not exactly move, the pain of her incision suddenly becoming obvious after her attempt, Akko sent Diana her care in spirit, wanting to run her hand through those silky blond locks.

“Thank you.”

The words slipped out so naturally, so easily. They were the truest of truths. Kagari Atsuko was truly grateful to Diana Cavendish. She owed the doctor her life.

Akko smiled one last time before her eyes slipped shut once more, relaxing against the cushions and counting the beats of her heart, trying to familiarize with the newness of everything, the oddness, the warmth.

“You are most welcome.” A voice brought her back, eyes opening and head tilting to look at an exhaustedly smiling doctor, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes.

“Diana…”

“Hello, welcome to your new life, Akko.” Diana offered the tiniest of smiles, stretching her body out before moving her chair closer to Akko’s bed, yawning in the midst of it all. “How are you?”

That one simple question, a question she had been asked for years suddenly sounded less… prying, with less of an implication of negativity and worry, and it felt more of casual question now, something she could answer happily to and not need to lie about.

“I’m fine, thank you.” Perfectly fine was how she was feeling as a few tears of joy slipped from her cheeks. “I feel wonderful.” She grinned, feeling Diana place a hand on hers, covering it warmly.

“And you are just that.” Diana said, stroking her thumb over that hand as a nurse entered the room and explained to Akko that they had to do a few breathing exercises to ensure that she could breathe properly on her own, without the removed ventilator.

Though wondering what that was about, she complied as Diana nodded, Akko being assisted in sitting up and being guided on how to breathe and cough out, some explanations being told to her that went in one ear and out the other.

After this check-up, the brunette watched for a moment as Diana and the nurse talked, discussing some of the points in caring for her, probably, nevertheless, she waited patiently until the nurse smiled and bid her farewell and Diana sat back down.

“We’ll have to do that again in another two hours, alright?” Diana spoke, concern lacing her voice. “It might become uncomfortable, but it will help.”

Not wanting to worry Diana more than she already had, Akko nodded furiously, offering a reassuring smile as she was suddenly chatty, having to be told by Diana to calm down despite letting her be… just a bit.

Akko began asking about how things were, how long she had been asleep, as well as spotting some of the get-well cards and gifts she had been sent that threw her into a state of reminiscing and story-telling.

In exchange, along the way, Akko had found that she had slept the past two to three days, part of why Diana was worried enough to stay by her side as the older woman explained.

Partly, she was thankful that she had not been awake that time due to the supposed tube that had been lodged within her throat, the ventilator that she had needed to breathe. Now she was aware of why her throat had been so sore, but she was grateful that it was something that helped her live better, her soul flowing with absolute positivity.

“-And then, My friend Lotte tried baking us these pastries, but I honestly couldn’t stand them. Sucy- ah, that’s my other friend and her girlfriend, seemed fine with it, but I wonder if she was just pretending. What do you think Diana?” Akko continued on with her tales, at times giggling and laughing, talking as animatedly as possible without having to move so much.

“Hmm? Ah- uh, yes… that sounds lovely, Akko. Your friends must be so nice.” Akko was slightly puzzled at Diana’s out-of-it type of answer, but shrugged it off at first, pinning it as the girl being tired from work and taking care of her.

“They are!” She responded cheerily once more, her heart beating excitedly, amazingly in her chest as it swelled with pride at its new capacities.

And she calmed for a moment. Suddenly not having anything to say, nothing in mind. Akko felt at peace. She was quiet as her eyes closed slowly, the girl breathing in and out in relaxation, feeling every hum of the machine, every pump of her heart, every breath she took.

This feeling… this kind of living…

“The ICD implant was a success, huh…” She whispered her muses aloud, lips resting in a gentler smile. “I’m glad.”

Eyes opening and seeking Diana’s, she wondered why they looked so much in pain, so in sorrow, so… guilty and regretful as Diana failed to respond this time, mouth hung open as if she needed to say something but could not.

“Diana?”

“…”

“Diana? What’s up?” Akko asked, the smile on her face wavering as she sought out the eyes that could no longer meet her gaze, so downcast as they turned to the floor for help. “Why are you so sad? If you’re worried about me, I’m fine, see?”

Akko moved her hand slowly, lightly placing it on her chest as she watched Diana’s eyes widen in slight worry, before going back to their sad state.

“Look, my heart’s all better.”

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

Diana flinched at the statement, pained as she gazed at Akko.

“That-that’s…”

And the memories came crashing in, filling Diana with a sudden torment, stomach churning as she wanted to vomit, reminding her of this lie she was living, a lie she could not keep up. She was far too guilty to keep it up. It plagued her, the memories, the words.

Her eyes meeting Akko’s worried ones for another short while, the look of Akko’s face, Akko in general only served as a larger reminder, the similarities between them, of Akko and the man who she had… spoken with. They only made Diana feel more wretched.

  [“I’m sorry, Doctor Cavendish.”]

…

[“I understand.”]

  “Akko I’m sorry.” Diana said, not being able to take it anymore, the inquisitive, innocent gaze only putting more pressure on her.

“What, what for?” Akko chuckled, the sound not quite in harmony with how she looked at the moment, a mix of happy pain. “Why?” She wondered, a fear creeping towards her.

“I’m so, so sorry. I didn’t have a choice.”

“Diana, please tell me what’s wrong.” Diana knew Akko was now worried, dread making its way into her now healthier heart and she didn’t want that for the other girl, but she needed the truth. “What are you talking about?”

“I’m sorry Akko… I c-can’t. I promised I wouldn’t tell, but…” Her eyes stung, her head and heart hurt as she braced herself to reveal this harsh, but actual reality.

“Diana?” The voice prompted her, and she was scared… so, so, so scared.

But she told her.

“That isn’t your heart.”

And like a full, supposedly very sturdy dam, Diana beheld the Akko before her, breaking down slowly, possibly wondering why as to why she cried like so. The brunette touched her suddenly wet cheeks, Diana frowning as she saw Akko trying to smile, to laugh.

“Hahaha, what’s wrong with me? Why am I- what is wrong hahaha.. this is… this…” And just like that, Diana witnessed her favorite smile completely disappeared, a frown taking its place as there were just more tears.

Silent crying could only be silent for so long, as Akko’s beautiful wide eyes sought Diana’s, the pair finally closing and brows scrunching up as some force made it difficult to keep looking at the good doctor and Diana did not blame her. She wouldn’t want to look at herself either.

“Is this some kind of riddle, a joke?” Diana was asked, though both women knew and did not know at the same time what exactly she was asking.

Diana was still speechless, finding it hard to talk.

So when no reply came from the blonde, Akko knew, Akko thought for the worst. The only reason, answer on how this could not be her heart.

“NO… no, that’s not true, Diana. You found a way, right? For us both to be saved, you… you said so, Diana!” Diana felt the glare, the burning gaze on her searching for an answer on that pale face, through her open blue eyes.

“…”

“Why?”

And because she could not break the silence, Akko did it for her… in the most excruciating way for them both. She let out misery the only way she knew how, filling the room with her song of woe.

Cries, wails, sobs.

The sounds made the pangs of sorrow all the more painful for the already suffering doctor, moreso the next words that fell from Akko’s lips. They sent a jolt of pain, hurt, shock into Diana as she fell speechless, mouth opening and closing in utter silence.

“You’re lying.”

-------

“You’re lying, Diana.” Akko spoke, tears a never-ending stream coming from her eyes. Brows furrowed, she glared her physician down. “Stop lying, Doctor!” She said, voice raised, heart pounding, but not in any danger so unlike before. “Why would you lie to me?!”

“Akko, I’m no-“ It seemed Diana had found her voice, but was not permitted to speak a word as Akko swiftly cut her off.

“THAT’S A LIE!”

Her breath was ragged, her heart pounded, yet she did not feel as if she were in any danger of an attack, and She cursed, loathed the fact that everything seemed to be true. She did not want to accept it.

“Stop lying to me Diana.” She said, voice softer, breaths coming out in shallow pants as she tried to calm herself. “Just stop.”

“I’m not, Akko your father is-“ The doctor tried again, but Akko was very unwilling to give ear to the words.

“He’s just- Daddy is just hiding from me. You’re just playing some mean trick.” She glared, not wanting to be near Diana at the moment.

She felt betrayed.

Sorrowful as she was, Diana knew she had to calm Akko, to get her to stop her rash actions, to relax as she was still at an unstable state.

“Dad!”

------

Distress filled Diana at the word, breath caught in her throat, choking her.

Akko was looking for her father. She would not believe.

“Akko, no! I’m telling you-!”

“Daddy, please stop this, stop hiding. I love you!” Akko called out again, and Diana felt she couldn’t understand, yet she did. And Akko went on, torturing Diana indirectly with her cries. “I promise dad, we won’t fight anymore!” She cried louder. “DADDY! Where are you! I woke up see?”

“Akko, he’s gone! Your heart is His heart-“

“I’m not listening to you.”

Diana fell silent, eyes trailing to the opening door as a pair of nurses came to assist, everyone trying to calm Akko down as she scowled at them all angrily.

“YOU PROMISED ME DIANA.”

The words shot through her like a bullet, leaving a hole in her heart, something that she could never heal most likely, ironically as she saw Akko, trying to be calmed or in the most uncontrollable situation, forced to sleep.

“Don’t do this to me Daddy! No! Don’t leave, why would you leave me?!” Akko called again, suddenly feeling very drowsy, breathing slower as her pulse dropped as the monitor indicated, and Diana was thrown into sudden panic as more nurses came in at alert.

“Dad… why…”

[I thought you loved me…]

 ~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~

 It had been days, no nearly two weeks.

In that time, Akko had been in successful recovery, surprisingly enough, despite her demeanor and emotions being quite negative. She was an obedient person in the end, trying to fulfill some unspoken promise probably to carry on.

With proper monitoring and care, her incision was healing nicely, no signs of infection and no complications to her heart at all. It was a good healthy heart, strong and well-cared for. Yet, though she lived in such health, Akko was never happy in these moments. She had not spoken in days, or at least to Diana. Few words had she uttered to her cousin who came by diligently, if only to get the girl to eat and take her medicines and cooperate with her caretakers, save Diana.

Andrew understood well enough what both parties were feeling, and decided there was nothing he could do to interfere, and it wasn’t his place to take a side. So all he could do was watch, watch and try to leave bits of advice to the hard-headed patient under his charge, one who’s feelings must have been heavier than anyone else’s, conflicting, confusing within her as she suffered silently alone.

And it went on for days and into another week, and another… until Akko could finally go home.

The Hanbridges had offered to take her in, to let her stay with them in their home, but somehow she refused, and her family could only send a maid to help out in maintaining her old house, but for the most part, she was alone.

At times, Andrew would frown and sigh, finding Akko calling for her father at the weirdest times, or at one incident that he had slept over to watch over, he found an extra plate prepared at the dinner table, Akko trying to brush it off as expecting her uncle to come along. But Andrew knew better.

Akko was in denial.

And he kept observing.

More days came and went. Akko had her follow-ups, her x-rays, and he found that she was willing to have them, but not willing to see the people who held them, disdain always showing through on her expressions as she entered the hospital doors or interacted with any medical personnel. Most especially with her doctor, Diana.

There were times when she was silent, not talking or answering any of the needed or casual questions and this frustrated everyone, exasperated them, and when she was in the mood to answer, Akko would be harsh, cynically blunt, and in sour moods or fits.

Akko was angry.

One big surprise for Andrew was a time he found Akko bowing on the flour, prostrated to the lowest level, and for a moment, he thought she had an attack, but hearing words from her mouth, ‘what ifs’ and ‘if only’… then…

“Even if it is impossible, please give me back my father… come back to me… daddy.”

He’d find Akko saying those words, no, praying those words, and even mumbling in her sleep. Bargaining to God for the taboo, for something that simply could not be as it was against nature’s morals.

That’s when Andrew realized.

The suffering of the Stages of Grief.

Yes, Akko was in grief, and as natural as it could be, somehow, he needed to do something about it.

But now, after witnessing the nightly cries, the gazes Diana would send during every check-up, the wallowing in self-pity, Akko’s anger, and currently as she ate as little as possible, talking as little as possible, throwing herself into depression, Andrew giving some effort, he just realized.

Even if he tried doing something about it, he could not.  

 ~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~

 The ceremony was a glum day, not rainy, no. It was cloudy and dark and Akko hated it, for she could not cry. There was nothing to cover up her sobs, nothing to wash them away as she went on through the drone of the pastor, the services.

She had held on during all the wakes, not shedding a single tear after all she had spilled the past few days, so there was no need to let strangers, acquaintances, not even friends see her sadness.

There was no need for them to pity her. She didn’t need it.

As she looked at the casket now being lowered, her hands subconsciously throwing in a dozen of her father’s favorite flowers wrapped in his favorite scarf, Akko gazed upon all the people with blank eyes, watching some cry, some try not to, Some indifferent, and some fond and sad at the same time.

She hated them all, she found. She was bitter, but as much as she did not want to be, she was. She just was.

Please let it rain…

 --------------

Diana watched from afar; she dare not go near for fear of Akko’s wrath. She already seemed fairly down and angry, and Diana would certainly be more than willing to not add on to the poor girl’s frustration any longer.

But her heart still longed to comfort Akko. No one did, after all. The brunette kept at standoff-ish aura, negating any attempt of help or consoling. Not even her friends could help as the most the could do was offer their condolences, their ‘sorry’s, along with pats on her back as they left one by one… one by one until only so few were left.

She heard that Andrew Hanbridge beckon his cousin to go home. She watched as she shook her head no.

With a defeated sigh, she saw that last family begin to head for the car, jolting a bit in her spot as her eyes met with green orbs that merely blinked before disappearing behind a car hood.

Once the vehicle was out of range, she heard it.

The sound of rain, yes… beginning to pitter patter slowly, quickly becoming harder, but there was something else.

“I’M SORRY!”

And her feet moved without her control, heading to those cries, those wails as her umbrella hit the floor just beside the girl as she threw her arms around the shivering figure.

“No… I am.”

---------

Akko jumped in surprise, suddenly feeling kind hands, a warm body pressed against her, her black dress sticking against her skin, but all she could think of was the comforting hands running through her hair and down her back.

“Akko, I’m sorry.”

“Di-Diana?”

“Sorry I could not save you both.” The blonde spoke. “Sorry I promised… Sorry I lied… I am so sorry… I am…”

“W-wait- don’t say-“

“I am sorry for your loss.”

A whimper escaped Akko before she returned the embrace, clinging tightly to the only support left in her time of need. She did not know how she could not be this way around other people, but she found Diana to be someone she was comfortable sharing this with.

“I’m sorry too.”

And they both cried under the rain until Diana was sure that the wetness sliding down Akko’s beautiful face were no longer tears, but just the tumultuous rain.

“Let’s get you warmed up.”

 ~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~

It was comforting and discomforting to be seated in the house her father had built, Diana in the kitchen preparing her some warm milk as Akko calmed down, seated on the floor at a low table in the connected living room.

Maybe she had been staring into space if the clink of a mug being placed before her was enough to offer her a tiny scare, as Diana smiled sadly at her, offering a quiet murmur of apology as Akko simply nodded in response.

As they had found it common these past few days, silence had once more resumed between them as they sipped on their drinks, trying to collect their thoughts, before Diana found the courage to speak up first.

“So… I apologize if this is a prying thought, but I was wondering… what is that letter in the pocket of your dress?”

Stunned, Akko slowly fell into the realization that Diana had probably discovered the paper she had been clinging on for far too long secretly these past few months.

“Do you… do you… no…” Akko shook her head, deciding it was time to pull herself together and get back on her feet.”

“Would you mind listening?”

Seeing Diana nod slowly, understandingly, Akko went to fetch it. The smudged piece of paper that lay crinkled in her dress pocket, now to be exposed to the world.

As she opened it, the paper having dried a bit, clearly ruined, but still readable, miraculously enough, Akko confessed.

“It’s a letter for my father… and…” Diana urged her to go on, a hand placed on Akko’s back as she sat closer on the floor as both women leaned against the couch.

“And?” Diana coaxed, gently, carefully.

“I wanted…” Akko sniffled, before crying a bit and hushing herself, wanting to see this through. “To give it to him after the operation.”

“Oh…” Diana looked down at her lap, before meeting Akko’s gaze again. “Then all the more reason for me to be more sorry.”

Akko’s nod and short closing of eyes, along with her smile told Diana it was alright, and that maybe, she finally understood. Understood why Diana did what she did.

And now, it was time for her to read.

------

 [ Dear Dad,

               Hey! Hahaha… so… ummm… sup? Ok, I know you know, but… hehe… I’ve been a bad girl lately, I know. And I’m sorry. I’m sorry I hurt you when I don’t follow what you would have wanted. I know you do what you do out of love for me.

Dad, it’s just that… I’m sorry I argue with you… I just don’t want you gone. Dad... you’re the only good thing I have left in this life. You can’t leave me.

Daddy, I’m gonna have this operation… it’s a big step for both of us. Dad… don’t sacrifice too much for me… you’ve given me too much already.

Daddy… if you love me, if you really do love me, don’t do this… Oh! But if you’re reading this, that means the operation is done right? Oopps… hihi… I meant to give you this letter once the operation succeeded… so it did! Cause you’re reading it! (I know you’re grinning old man) *wink*.

But in all seriousness,

Dad… I’m sorry.

Dad… Thank you.

Daddy, I love you.

Dad, the sunshine of my life, my pillar of strength, my light… I love you so so so much. Thank you for EVERYTHING you have ever done for me. I can never repay you.

So I’ll just love you with this heart for the rest of my life.

 With Love,

Your one and only beloved daughter, the one who loves you most in this world,

…

Kagari Atsuko.]

 And finally, after crying over it, Akko accepted her new life, her new heart… her loss.

 ~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~

Two years later:

“Hey dad!!! Yeahhhh! Of course I’m visiting again! And you know what dad? I went jogging this morning and bumped into this HUGE dog! He was so funny and cute- oh! But that’s now why I’m here!!! Sorry!”

Akko spoke excitedly, pulling a familiar personality beside her, shyly hiding, bowing respectfully as she greeted bashfully, “Good day, Ken-san… I’ve come to visit again.”

Akko giggled, bumping shoulders with Diana as she took her hand, kissing it.

“So dad, guess what, guess what?” She bounced up and down giddily, her heart thumping excitedly in her chest. “Didya know? I brought my girlfriend!! Yep! I finally got one… who says I couldn’t! Aren’t you proud?”

“Akko…” Diana blushed, a gust of wind blowing through her hair, as Akko chuckled, taking out a leaf that got stuck in rich blonde locks.

“She’s smart and caring, wonderful and beautiful. She’s perfect dad!” Akko smiled at Diana, smiled at Ken before releasing her lover and doing a ‘Ta-dah’ pose. “I present to you… the one, the only-“

“Just say it, Akko.” Diana laughed at her girlfriend’s antics, warmly gazing upon her.

“DIANA CAVENDISH!” She yelled for the world to hear. “Yeah, that’s right, your little girl isn’t so little anymore, huh? Haha… you sad to hear that?”

And just like that, Akko’s exuberant laughs and smiles melted into a fond melancholic gaze.

“Yeah, that’s right… you’re girl is all grown up. I’ve moved on, not from loving you, but onto a better life full of acceptance and more happiness. I know you would have wanted that, daddy.”

Akko knelt by the gravestone, placing those favorite flowers of her father, those lilies, right by his tomb, touching the words,

‘To the owner of a believing heart, this is your magic. Nothing is impossible with that loving, believing heart.’

“Daddy, I love you.” Akko allowed a tear to slip past as she finally bid her father farewell, bid so many things farewell, as she bid her heart’s troubles farewell.

Heart troubles that could be miraculously overcome by a believing heart.

Because a believing heart is your magic.

   ~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~

A/N: Umm… I’m sorry? SO? Whaddya think everybody? It felt too… weird and strewn about… I think I botched this one… Sorry. Like and Reblog? Tell me how it was??? PLEASE??? I’m anxioussss!!!! IT SUCKED.

~Shintori Khazumi

[littlewatty]

#26. Tending an injury

This was supposed to be brief. It’s not. Sorry, not sorry. Didn’t do any real editing yet, so there’s probably errors.

AO3 Link

“I’m seriously beginning to regret this decision…” Kitt hissed, slumping against a rock with her good shoulder. The muscles of her left arm were twitching, small spasms that prevented her from moving the arm in any one direction. The point where the tip of the knife where it scraped against the bone of her shoulder blade was what made it worse. It was the kind of pain that sent chills down her spine. She had turned her back on Farah for just a second, but it was enough for the Roekar to put the knife she’d murdered so many with into her back.

The rest of her team was pretty quick to her side once the coast was clear, but the cave went deep. There could be others lurking in the dark. “You should sit down, Kid, that looks bad.” Drack hoisted his hammer up over his shoulder while Vetra helped the Pathfinder sit, making sure she didn’t lean back on the blade accidentally.

“What’re you talking about? I’ll be fine.”

“The wound is superficial, and has avoided any major blood vessels. Though the bone has taken some damage, it is not fractured. If allowed proper time to heal, there should be no prolonged impairment.”

“See?” Kitt grinned at the rest of her team, but they didn’t seem convinced. Just to prove a point, she reached and grasped the blade to pull it out.

“I do not recommend this course of action, Pathfinder. Until immediate first aid can be applied, the blade must remain in place. Once removed, there is nothing to stem your bleeding and you may pass out.”

With a loud groan, she released it and just let herself rest against the rocks. “Well, we can’t just sit here and wait for more Roekar to come pouring out of those tunnels.”

“And you can’t move until Lexi has a look at you,” Vetra made the quick comeback.

“Well, Lexi isn’t here. So unless one of you has experience patching up stab wounds, we’re at an impasse.”

“If I may,” the whole reason they were there stepped forward, a glint of amusement in his eyes. “I could offer my services. Though your doctor is certainly more adept at patching wounds than myself, it seems we have few options. That leaves the two of you to clear out the last of the caves.”

“I don’t like it.”

“Come on, Vetra. If the smuggler wanted to hurt the Kid, he could have just left us.” Even though Drack was one of her longest running contacts, Vetra still didn’t seem much convinced as she clicked her mandibles.

“Why don’t you listen to your big friend there and run along, hm?”

The turian looked at Kitt, and she nodded. “I’ll be alright. We need to clear out the caves, and I can’t really go with you like this.”

“If you say so. SAM, make sure to call us if anything happens to her.”

“Of course.”

“Relax. I’m on your side.” Reyes’ smirk never left his lips while the two of them went off deeper into the caves. Drack didn’t seem to mind, but Vetra kept looking over her shoulder until they were out of sight.

“Quit antagonizing my crew,” Kitt teased him, shaking her head. “They already don’t trust you. You’re only making it worse.”

That just made him laugh. “Oh, please, Ryder. I’m perfectly likeable.”

“Perfectly.” She started to laugh, but winced when it caused the blade to move. “Guess I’m in your hands now, aren’t I?”

“Don’t say that like it’s such a bad thing.” Reyes removed his gloves and pushed up his sleeves as far as they would go while she laid down on her stomach. Instead of getting to work like she expected, he stood up “There’s bound to be supplies around here somewhere. You don’t just live on Kadara without being prepared.”

“Says the man who lives on Kadara and isn’t prepared.”

“You wound me, Ryder. After all that effort to perfectly time that explosion. Aha! Jackpot.” Kitt repositioned just enough to glance back and see him trotting over with a handful of medigel packs and some compression wraps.

“Mr. Vidal, I suggest preparing the medigel before you remove the blade, to limit the bleeding.”

“Thank you, SAM, but I do know what I’m doing.” His comment made Kitt wonder just how much experience patching up wounds Reyes had. She watched while he measured out a few arm lengths of the wraps, tore it with a knife from his boot, and then did it again. Once satisfied, he cracked open the medigel and took hold of the blade. “This is probably going to hurt. Ready?”

Kitt swallowed. “Yeah.”

“Count to three.”

“One, t– son of a bitch!” White flashed behind Kitt’s eyes as she dug her forehead into the ground against the pain. Reyes yanked the angaran blade out of her back before she had mentally prepared herself. Probably better that way, but she would still smack him for it. Almost as soon as the heat of pain erupted through her back, the cool soothing of the medigel followed.

“Better?” he asked, just beside her ear.

Kitt’s repsonse came more as a grunt than anything. “Better.” The gel foamed and began to set as she pushed herself back up into a sitting position. Every nerve inside her shoulder was firing with pain as she moved, making the world spin and the metallic taste of blood settle on her tongue. Before she realized it, Reyes had his arms around her and was helping her settle back against the rocks.

“Not so fast, Pathfinder. We’re not done yet. Take your armor off.”

For a moment, she just stared at him wondering if she’d heard him right. When he returned an expecting look it just baffled her more. “Excuse me?”

“Take your armor off,” he repeated, entirely serious. “Your doctor won’t be too pleased if they find a shotty patch job when you return. So. Take your armor off.”

“You haven’t even paid me back for the drink you owe me, and you’re already asking me to strip,” Kitt scoffed, trying not to use her bad arm as she hit the latches that held everything together. Unfortunately, she could not reach everything. “A little help?” She motioned with a finger towards the latches on the far side of her back. There was a gentle nudge, and the last few latches came free. With Reyes’ help, they lifted her chest piece up and over her head without having to move her bad arm too much. Goosebumps prickled her skin as brief shots of lightning traveled through her shoulder, but it was better than before.

Leaning on her one good arm, Kitt did her best to steady her breathing. Her mind went back to Lexi’s yoga instructions. Just focus on the in, and the out. In, and out. The pain throbbed, but it would ebb away once this was over. She just had to take it one breath at a time.

There was a brief moment when she almost yelled at Reyes again as he tore her skinsuit where the knife had gone through. “What’re you doing?”

“Relax, Pathfinder. I’m just getting a better look at your wound, in case it needs more medigel. Lucky for you, I’m good at what I do. It looks like it sealed on the first go.”

“Great, so can I put my armor back on now?”

“Not so fast. You won’t be moving that arm any time soon. Your doctor will likely agree with me on that one. So just stay still, won’t you Ryder?” Kitt just grumbled under her breath as he pressed a wad of the compression wrappings against the hardened medidgel. One band at a time, he wrapped the cloth over the wound and around her chest to keep everything in place.

“Why not just leave it up to the medigel?” she muttered after a few wraps.

“Because it doesn’t always hold. Sure, it works great now, but if the seal breaks and you start bleeding again, there’s nothing to stop the blood. This is way is better safe than sorry.”

“Yeah, but–”

“No buts, Ryder. If you make me, I will carry you back to the Tempest myself.” Kitt snapped her head around to look over her shoulder at him. Of course, the smuggler was smirking. Oh so pleased with himself.

As a result of his jests, she hushed up and allowed him to finish what he was doing. A round of tight bindings and a makeshift sling later, he finally let her stand on her own two feet again. The world tipped a little, but a firm hand on her good arm helped steady her. “Better?”

“Better.” Kitt inhaled through her nose, letting her balance settle and her nausea pass before she opened her eyes again. If he hadn’t been there, she probably would have just gotten herself into more trouble, and Lexi wouldn’t let her live that down. More likely than not, she’d have been put on house arrest until the wound healed. As it was now with Reyes’ help, she might only have to spend a few days in the port before Lexi gave her permission to go back on normal duty. Certainly a better alternative. “Thank you, Reyes.”

A smile lit up his face as she settled back against a rock to wait as the rest of her team came walking up. “A pleasure, Pathfinder. It was the least I could do after you so expertly helped clear Kadara of the Roekar. You did good. Don’t worry. I’ll let all the important people know who to thank. It was your fancy AI that did all the hard work, after all.”

Kitt snorted at him. “Yeah. Because he’s so useful in a firefight.” Profiles aside. “Buuuut, you didn’t do too bad yourself, smuggler. We make a good team.”

While she watched him, breath stuck in her throat, he took a step closer. Her eyes were locked onto his, having a difficult time looking away while he hovered so close. “Careful. I’ll start thinking you like me.”

“Would that be so bad…?” Her breath caught in her throat at her own words. Internally she scolded herself for saying that, but honestly? Reyes made her want to keep coming back to the port whether they had missions or not. Whatever was there, it wasn’t a business relationship. The hardest part was figuring out if he was just playing along.

Where he stood, so close that she could almost feel his breath on her cheeks, she wondered if it wasn’t just a game. Yet the smirk that played on his lips made her wonder otherwise. “Depends. Don’t be a stranger, Pathfinder.” And away he went. Without even looking back, he made his way up the stairs and out the entrance to the hideout. Kitt couldn’t help but watch him go. Maybe Vetra had been right when she called Kitt out before the fight. Maybe there was something going on.

[kei-oh]

Titile: (Untitled at the moment)

Verse: Batman

 Patient Name: REDACTED, Makeda

Date of Birth: REDACTED

Place of Birth: ALIEN OF SOUTH SUDANESE ORIGIN; DATE OF NATURALIZATION REDACTED

Sex: FEMALE

Hair: SILVER

Eye: Brown

Height: 5’5

Weight: 115 lbs

Previous Associates: Slade Wilson, William ‘Billy’ Wintergreen (decd.), Talia al Ghul, Jade Nguyen

Arkham Inmate No.: 57821

Intake Notes:

             Sentenced to Arkham Asylum following several premeditated attacks on REDACTED and its known associates. Patient exhibits symptoms of disassociation and selective mutism throughout trial, but shows no outward signs of aggression. No further information or previous diagnoses were released by government sources. Due to weight of her crimes and knowledge of her skill, it was recommended by government sources that she be confined to the maximum security wing. No evidence, besides the crime and evidence submitted to the court, was provided to back up the recommendation. Police and guards in the court room noted a relatively calm demeanor. Still unsure why the judge sentenced her to Arkham- only that evidence provided suggested a mental disturbance. Such evidence, like most everything about the patient, was withheld on grounds of compromising national security.

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Jonathan Crane closed the thin, manila file on the newest patient assigned to his care, wondering how exactly to proceed with such little information on a patient who refused to talk.

His gut reaction was to add her to his growing list of patients to experiment his toxins on, but that wasn’t an option. Not yet, at least. Given the tight-lipped nature of the CIA on the nearly catatonic woman sitting before him, this was someone they would keep tabs on- at first. He’d seen it before. Agents check in bi-weekly on the patient to obtain any useful information; ensure they would do no more harm to the people or their operations. Gradually, depending on the patient’s mental state, their visits became less frequent as their egos’ were reassured the patient was no longer a threat- or, in the cases the patient managed to escape (none of his patients ever managed to get that far), they were transferred to a secret location to never be heard from again.

He would just need to bide his time. Satiate their hunger on other patients, long forgotten by their family and friends until her fate was the same as theirs.

Looking up, his icy stare found its way to rest upon the woman barred down with straps across her chest and hips and shackled at the wrists. It all seemed silly. Here was a woman, clearly underweight and lacking substantial muscle mass strapped down like an animal. Physically, there was no way she could overpower the orderlies and guards around here. The video evidence submitted to the court only showed her assembling and making explosives. Anyone with a basic understanding of chemistry could do that. Still, airing on the side of caution was always advisable, particularly when the recommendations were coming from government actors that had dealt with her.

The patient stared at a fixed point on the ground, eyes blank and seemingly lifeless. “Miss Makeda, my name is Dr. Jonathan Crane. I am the psychiatrist assigned to your case.”

No response. Not even her eyes drifted up towards him. The patient gave no indication that she had even heard him.

“Miss Makeda?” Jonathan questioned, raising an eyebrow as he waited for a response that never came. Sharply sighing and rising to his feet, he got out his penlight and strode over to the patient. “Makeda, I need you to look at me if you can.” Still no response. God, she looked pale. Had they given her Droperidol or some other form of antipsychotic to restrain her without consulting him first, or was she in shock at being here? If the orderlies had screwed up and given her something they shouldn’t have… “I’m going to tilt your head up and shine this light into your eyes-“ no acknowledgement was expected, but procedure called for it.

Pupils were dilated, unchanging when they were exposed to light, and her skin was cool to the touch as he noticed its sheer, slickness reflecting the office light. Her chest barely rose, indicating a slower intake of oxygen, as her whole body seemed to shake. “Mr. Blake, Mr. Graham, I need one of you to get the bag valve mask. The other, go tell the doctors and nurses we have a patient experiencing an overdose.”

Nimble fingers made their way down to the point under her jaw where the head and neck connected as he took note of her pulse. He didn’t need a clock to tell him it was irregular. Someone had given her something without his consent, and not just that- given her too much.

Stephen Graham was instantly at his side, respirator in hand, stumbling over his words as fear of both the situation and the doctor himself consumed him, ”She wasn’t this bad when we restrained her and brought her here. This wasn’t us, Dr. Crane. I don’t- I’m not-“

Look at him cowering before us…

Jonathan held up a hand to silence both the orderly and the voice in his mind as he reached out and snatched up the ventilator. He secured the face mask and the valve and began compressing the bag ever five seconds he nodded to the orderly to begin wheeling her out of his office.

He matched the orderly’s quick pace down the hallway, all while maintaining consistent compressions to ensure the patient was getting enough oxygen. “Did either you or Mr. Blake administer any drug?” he asked coolly, studying Stephen’s face for any sign of a lie.  

“No, Sir, we met with them agent-guys for the exchange, and we restrained her as you see here and brought her to you, just like we was told.”

Jonathan remembered why he rarely spoke to orderlies. They were unintelligent, obedient monkeys, usually possessing little more than a high school education. “And you stated she wasn’t ‘this bad’ when the transfer occurred?”

“No, she just was quiet and still, with that dead look in her eyes- like she’d given up.”

“And you didn’t think that was strange?” Usually, every patient Arkham took in was lively and difficult in some form, whether they were yelling and screaming that they were innocent and sane, or got physical with the orderlies…

Suddenly, Makeda’s amber eyes found his, and for a brief moment, they registered his face, wide with uncertainty before trying to look at her surroundings. Zs she began to frantically move her head to look around, his other hand firmly held her head still. “I need you to remain still. I am manually helping you breathe.”

And just as quickly as her focus came back, the blank stare returned and she went limp once more. He picked up his line of questioning. “You didn’t think it was strange that she was so quiet, despite being told to keep her restrained?”

“No… Well, yes, but-“

They entered into the emergency wing of Arkham, his colleagues were at his side, stopping the orderly in his tracks and barking orders to get the patient out of her restraints and onto the hospital bed.

“Thank you, Dr. Crane, we’ll take it from here,” a nurse stated, taking the respirator from him and edging both the orderly and himself out of the room as they were followed out by the lead emergency doctor, Dr. Eighan.

“Thank you for your quick response, Dr. Crane. We’ll do what we can for her, and we’ll let you know if and when she recovers.”

And just like that, Stephen and Jonathan were left alone outside the emergency room, but not before shouting came from inside the room.

************

It was black, and then it wasn’t.

Makeda’s eyes shot open as she bolted upright, gasping in as much air as she could.

Brightness. White light. Silence.

Then pain tearing at the very seams of her soul. Limbs on fire. Thoughts whirling. Bones collapsing.

World ending pain.

It came flooding in with images of a sterile room like a tide she couldn’t hold back that wracked her entire body, and the nausea. Spinning, everything was twirling around her as the world moved quickly passed. She reached around the bed she found herself on for any sort of container before a trash bin was thrust into her hands, just as she retched into it.

It was an odd feeling. She couldn’t hear anything, not even her own vomiting. If it weren’t for the pain, she’d have assumed this was just another dream. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a flurry of motions from the people in the white coats as she continued to empty the contents of her stomach into the bin, before being sent into a state of panic.

Where was she? Who were these people? More scientists?

Drawing from the new adrenalin pumping through her veins, Makeda leapt up out of bed, only to be met by orderlies that attempted, in vain, to restrain her. With ease as though she were possessed by a god, she shook them off and took off running on unsteady legs, pushing through those that were trying to stop her. The pathway to the door was blocked by two larger men in uniforms that tried to restrain her as another person entered the room, watching the chaos unfold.

Thrashing against the grips of the burly men, she lashed out, body moving primarily on instinct.

Flashes of red painted her vision, met with blue and a distinct pinch in her trapezius, and then black. All consuming black.

[alamante]

Expect more. That’s the verdict of climate scientists to the record-high temperatures this spring and summer in vastly different climate zones.

The continental United States had its hottest month of May and the third-hottest month of June. Japan was walloped by record triple-digit temperatures, killing at least 86 people in what its meteorological agency bluntly called a “disaster.” And weather stations logged record-high temperatures on the edge of the Sahara and above the Arctic Circle.

Is it because of climate change? Scientists with the World Weather Attribution project concluded in a study released Friday that the likelihood of the heat wave currently baking Northern Europe is “more than two times higher today than if human activities had not altered climate.”

While attribution studies are not yet available for other record-heat episodes this year, scientists say there’s little doubt that the ratcheting up of global greenhouse gases makes heat waves more frequent and more intense.

Elena Manaenkova, deputy head of the World Meteorological Organization, said this year was “shaping up to be one of the hottest years on record” and that the extreme heat recorded so far was not surprising in light of climate change.

“This is not a future scenario,” she said. “It is happening now.”

What was like to be in these really different places on these really hot days? We asked people. Here’s what we learned.

Ouargla, Algeria: 124°F on July 5

At 3 p.m. on the first Thursday of July, on the edge of the vast Sahara, the Algerian oil town of Ouargla recorded a high of 124 degrees Fahrenheit. Even for this hot country, it was a record, according to Algeria’s national meteorological service.

Abdelmalek Ibek Ag Sahli was at work in a petroleum plant on the outskirts of Ouargla that day. He and the rest of his crew had heard it would be hot. They had to be at work by 7 a.m., part of a regular 12-hour daily shift.

“We couldn’t keep up,” he recalled. “It was impossible to do the work. It was hell.”

By 11 a.m., he and his colleagues walked off the job.

But when they got back to the workers’ dorms, things weren’t much better. The power had gone out. There was no air conditioning, no fans. He dunked his blue cotton scarf in water, wrung it out, and wrapped it around his head. He drank water. He bathed 5 times. “At the end of the day I had a headache,” he said by phone. “I was tired.”

Ouargla’s older residents told him they’d never seen a day so hot.

Hong Kong: Over 91°F for 16 straight days

In this city of skyscrapers on the edge of the South China Sea, temperatures soared past 91 degrees Fahrenheit for 16 consecutive days in the second half of May.

Not since Hong Kong started keeping track in 1884 had a heat wave of that intensity lasted so long in May.

Swimming pools overflowed with people. Office air-conditioners purred. But from morning to night, some of the city’s most essential laborers went about their outdoor work, hauling goods, guarding construction sites, picking up trash.

One blistering morning, a 55-year-old woman named Lin gripped the hot metal handles of her handcart. She pushed it up a busy road, glancing over her shoulder for oncoming cars. She had fresh leafy greens to deliver to neighborhood restaurants in the morning, trash to haul in the evening. Some days, she had a headache. Other days, she vomited.

“It’s very hot and I sweat a lot,” said Lin, who would only give her first name before rushing off on her rounds. “But there’s no choice, I have to make a living.”

Poon Siu-sing, a 58 year-old trash collector, tossed garbage bags into a mounting pile. Sweat plastered the shirt onto his back. “I don’t feel anything,” he maintained. “I’m a robot used to the heat of the sun and rain.”

Nawabshah, Pakistan: 122°F on April 30

Nawabshah is in the heart of Pakistan’s cotton country. But no amount of cotton could provide comfort on the last day of April, when temperatures soared past 122 degrees Fahrenheit, or 50 degrees Celsius. Even by the standards of this blisteringly hot place, it was a record.

The streets were deserted that day, a local journalist named Zulfiqar Kaskheli said. Shops didn’t bother to open. Taxi drivers kept off the streets to avoid the blazing sun.

And so, Riaz Soomro had to scour his neighborhood for a cab that could take his ailing 62-year-old father to a hospital. It was Ramadan. The family was fasting. The father became dehydrated and passed out.

The government hospital was packed. In the hallways sat worn-out heatstroke victims like his father. Many of them had been working outdoors as day laborers, Mr. Soomro said.

Throughout the area, hospitals and clinics were swamped. There weren’t enough beds. There weren’t enough medical staff. The power failed repeatedly throughout the day, adding to the chaos.

“We tried our best to provide medical treatment,” said Raees Jamali, a paramedic in Daur, a village on the outskirts of Nawabshah. “But because of severity of the heat, there was unexpected rush and it was really difficult for us to deal with all patients.”

Every day that week, the high temperature in Nawabshah was no less than 113 degrees, according to AccuWeather.

Oslo: Over 86°F for 16 consecutive days

“Warning! We remind you about the total ban on fires and barbecuing near the forest and on the islands.”

This was the text message that Oslo residents got from city officials on a Friday afternoon in June.

May had been the warmest in 100 years. June was hot, too. By mid-July, a village south of Oslo recorded 19 days when the temperature shot up past 86 degrees Fahrenheit, or 30 Celsius, according to MET Norway.

Spring rains were paltry, which meant that grass had turned brown dry and farmers were having trouble feeding their livestock. Forests had turned to tinder. And city officials put a stop to one of the most popular Norwegian summer pastimes: heading out to the woods with a disposable barbecue.

“People not being used to this heat, they’re used to leaving a barbecue and nothing happens, Marianne Kjosnes, a spokeswoman for the Oslo Fire Department, said. “Now if a little spark catches the grass, you have a grass fire going.”

Public parks are off limits to barbecuing. So are the islands in the nearby fjord. The Oslo Fire Department’s Facebook page is trying to get the word out.

Per Evenson, a fire watchman posted in the tower on Linnekleppen, a rocky hill southeast of Oslo, counted 11 separate forest fires in one day in early July. Here and there, white smoke rose in the distance. By July 19, the civil protection department had tallied 1,551 forest fires, more than the numbers of fires in all of 2016 and 2017. The department said 22 helicopters were simultaneously fighting fires.

Wildfires were also erupting in Sweden. And one Swedish village just above the Arctic Circle, hit an all time record high, peaking above 90 degrees Fahrenheit.

“This is really frightening if this is the new normal,” Thina Margrethe Saltvedt, an energy industry analyst who lives in Oslo, wrote in an email.

Los Angeles: 108°F on July 6

At least Marina Zurkow had air conditioning.

Ms. Zurkow, an artist, has long been grappling with climate change in her work. But she was still surprised when a day of extreme weather impacted one of her projects in a big way.

The name of that project, which was designed to make people think about the impact of climate change on how we eat, is “Making the Best of It.” It is only half in jest.

“It’s both trying to make the best of a bad situation,” she said, “and in another way it’s a commitment to making things as delicious as possible.”

The latest iteration of that project was to host a dinner for a new era of dry, hot weather in California. Less Mediterranean, more Mojave Desert.

Ms. Zurkow’s partners, a team of two private chefs called Hank and Bean, prepared an elaborate meal designed to make their guests chew on the impact of climate change. The menu included sage fritters, stuffed rabbit, flatbreads made of cricket and mealworm, and jellyfish. Lots of jellyfish.

There was jellyfish crudo with a Greek salad at the top of the meal. There was a jellyfish jelly, with redwood tip infusion and pine syrup at the end of the meal.

Why jellyfish? Because it’s considered invasive and therefore plentiful, Ms. Zurkow reasoned. It’s also zero fat and good protein. “American dream food,” she added, also only half in jest.

They had planned to serve dinner al fresco in the courtyard of a downtown Los Angeles test kitchen.

But nature had other ideas.

That day, the first Friday of July, air from the Mojave blew westward and stalled, compressed and extra hot, over Los Angeles. Downtown hit a high of 108 degrees. It was too hot to eat outside.

“Even if you’re talking about climate change, you can’t torture invited guests,” Ms. Zurkow said. “We had to move the dinner into the kitchen.”

Somini Sengupta reported from New York and Los Angeles, Tiffany May from Hong Kong, and Zia ur-Rehman from Karachi, Pakistan.

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