#and her leaking things about some of the cast members he was closest to is a classic isolation tactic

[minorfamilysupremacy]

quick note: if you're turning on build due to the most recent chat leaks, do me a favor and unfollow, then learn critical thinking skills and ask yourself why you're happily playing into the hands of a known liar and abuser.

[itsallyscorner]

Baby’s First Heartbreak

pairing: marvel cast x teen!fem!reader, Scarlett Johansson x reader, Elizabeth Olsen x reader

prompt: the youngest member of the marvel cast experiences her first breakup.

warnings: not much—crying, a break up.

A/n: Tom is 19 here because this is set during Civil War. He was such a baby omg🥺

You were always a firm believer in having hope. No matter what the situation was, you knew that you had to at least try before fully giving up. You were only 18, but it was the mindset you grew up with. You were taught to face things with bravery and confidence, you faced things head to head with all your might. Though some things never went the way you planned, you were still the ray of sunshine you were, all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, eager to learn and explore the world.

You had the same mindset going into your first relationship. Love was something you’ve always wanted to experience. Sure, you received it from your friends and family. But you wanted the different kind of love. The special one that was shared between two people. The one that made your heart skip a beat and made you breathless. Where staring into that special someone’s eyes felt like you were being transported into another world where it was just the two of you.

You’ve found that kind of love in a boy from your hometown. The two of you had been friends since pre-k, growing up along side each other, and being there for each other’s success and failures. You’ve known him all your life but the feelings didn’t come till sophomore year of high school. It all just clicked all of sudden; that one day where he said you looked cute in his jumper and the next moment you knew you were seeing him in a new light. Junior year, you were both beating around the bush; constantly pining over each other with longing stares and fingers always brushing against each other. Though you didn’t see him all the time due to your job as an actress. You spent half of the school year in your hometown and the rest at Atlanta. Of course he knew of your job and as much as he hated to see you go, he knew you were doing something that made you happy. So he spent as much time as he could with you before your time together came to an end. A few days prior to your flight to Atlanta, under the night sky of your backyard, he admitted his feelings for you. By senior year, the two of you had been dating for half a year. It had been the best moments of your life, you were in love and high on happiness, it was like nothing in life could ever go wrong.

Now here you were, in your trailer on the set of Captain America: Civil War, sobbing you eyes out. You knew loving could hurt, but not this much. You still felt your heart skip a beat, but it was clenching in heartache. You were still breathless, but because you’ve been trying to catch your breath after every sob that wracked your body. You felt broken. The boy you loved had ripped your heart out of your chest and threw it onto the floor, stomping on it till it stopped beating.

You hiccuped as you stared at yourself in the mirror. You were nothing but a fool. A fool who had hope in something that was never going to work. You sniffled as you snatched tissues out of the box on your bathroom sink, dabbing the material onto your eyes and blowing your nose. Your eyes were red and your cheeks were puffy. A sigh of frustration releases from your body. There was no way you could walk onto set without people asking you what was wrong.

You debated asking your assistant to ask your designated makeup artist to do your makeup in your trailer, you didn’t want to be a bother. But your thumbs were already shamefully typing away the request on your phone. A few minutes later Eleanor, your makeup artist on set, arrives at your trailer with her supplies in hand.

She doesn’t directly question you, but she has the look of a concerned mother once she sees your face. You lie to her and tell her you weren’t having a good day and chalked it up to being homesick.

You dreaded going on set. You weren’t sure if you could face anyone without bursting into tears. The moment you felt like you were okay, your heart would clench, reminding you of the ache it was feeling.

You were in your costume, sitting on the sidelines of the set while you rehearsed your lines. The dialogue from the script acted as a distraction from the current pain you were feeling. The tears had stopped but your eyes felt dry, making you blink multiple times to keep them wet.

“Hey, sweetheart.” You look up and meet the stunning blue eyes of Chris Evans. That typical goofy smile of his was etched onto his features. Usually you would reciprocate that smile, but today you just couldn’t find it in your heart to do so. His smile falters when he sees your face.

“Morning.” You greet him, forcing a smile. Concern shadows on his face as he shifts a bit closer to you. “You alright?” He asks, eyes softening at you. Being the youngest of all the Avengers cast members, everyone had a soft side for you. Especially Chris, who saw you as a daughter.

“Y-yeah, I’ve just got—allergies.” You lied, another fake smile forcing itself onto your lips.

“Well have you taken something to help your allergies? Do you need Allegra? Claritin or something?” He looked around ready to call one of the runners on set to get you some meds.

“No! I took some already, a few minutes ago! It probably hasn’t kicked in yet.” You tell him. He eyes you reluctantly, not knowing if he should believe you. He decides to let it pass and nods, “Ok, tell me if you need anything though.”

You hum in response and tilt your head down back to your script.

The day goes on and everyone had caught on to your lack of—being you. The infamous smile everyone knew you by was barely on your face. You didn’t crack jokes with Anthony or share a giggle with Elizabeth. Instead you were quiet, a frown was on your face as you stared blankly at the floor. You didn’t interact with anybody, keeping to yourself and walking off set whenever one of the Russos called cut.

Anthony and Sebastian watched as you walked off the set. You have all finished a sequence of the airport scene and the Russos had given everyone a break while they rewatched the scenes they shot. Anthony’s brows furrowed while he watched your figure go further and further away. He had tried to cheer you up, telling you a joke about how Seb’s arm lube kept leaking out his fake arm. Your response was nothing but a fake laugh—it wasn’t even a fake laugh, more like a huff of laughter.

“She didn’t laugh at my joke.” Anthony thought aloud. Sebastian quirked an eye at his friend, “Does she have to laugh at all your jokes?”

“No, but even if I tell her a corny ass joke, she’ll still laugh at it.” He expressed, throwing his arms up. Sebastian’s lip pouted as he thought back to your behavior on set. You were acting unusual. He turns to Tom (Holland) and asks, “Hey, has (y/n) said anything to you? Like anything bothering her?”

The Brit shakes his head, “Um, nope. Besides filming, I haven’t spoken to her today.”

Anthony crosses his arms, approaching Tom, “Have you tried speaking to her? We’ve been trying to figure out what’s been going on with her today and you’re the closest to her age here.”

“I—I tried to talk to her, but she didn’t seem in a talking mood. I thought I was bothering her so I just stopped.” Tom answered. He gestures to the direction of the trailers, “I could check up on her right now? Maybe I’ll get her one of her favorite snacks from crafties, it might cheer her up.”

Half of a smile makes it way onto Sebastian’s face at the boy’s efforts. Though you were clearly upset and he felt like they were all prodding at your privacy. “Maybe we should give her some time alone.”

Tom frowns at the older man, “But (y/n)’s upset. Shouldn’t we do something?” Anthony agrees with Tom and looks at Sebastian.

Seb raises his hands up in defense, “I’m just saying—maybe she wants to be alone. She went back to her trailer away from everybody. She probably doesn’t want us shoving our noses into her business, we should respect that.”

Chris joins the group along with Scarlett and Elizabeth. He had overhead the group talking and urged the two ladies to join him in on the conversation.

“You guys talking about (y/n)?” Chris asks, hands on his waist.

“Yeah, Seb says we should leave her be.” Anthony fills him in.

“She told me she had allergies.” Chris starts. “She’s an amazing actress, but kid’s gotta work on the lying.” He finishes. Elizabeth and Scarlett glance at each other.

“Well has anyone talked to her at all today? Besides Chris?” Elizabeth asked the group. Everyone shakes their head. Elizabeth sighs while looking around at anyone else who could’ve talked to you. She spots Eleanor hanging along the sides with her makeup belt on, ready for touch ups. Elizabeth calls her over. Eleanor has her brush ready to powder her down, but Elizabeth politely declines.

“You do (y/n)‘s makeup right?”

Eleanor nods, “Yeah, I do.”

“How was she this morning? We’re just a bit concerned since she’s been acting different today.” Eleanor sighs, knowing if she told them it would be an invasion of your privacy. Although, they were all concerned for you and so was she.

“I got a text from her assistant telling me to do her makeup in her trailer today.” She began. “I walked in and her eyes were red, cheeks puffy—“

Chris apologizes and interrupts her, “Because of allergies?”

Eleanor shakes her head, “No, she never mentioned anything about allergies. But she looked like she’s been crying. She was wiping her face when I arrived.”

“Did she give you a reason for why she was crying?” Scarlett questions her.

“She told me she was feeling homesick.” Eleanor answered. Scarlett turned to Chris and shared a look. Elizabeth thanks Eleanor then turns back to the group.

“We need to check up on her.” Anthony says. All the men nodded and began to make their way to your trailer. Suddenly, they were stopped by Scarlett and Elizabeth.

“But (y/n)—“ Tom said pointing to the trailers. Scarlett shakes her head, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“Lizzie and I will go. You guys are gonna overwhelm her with all your questions.” Scarlett insists, much to the men’s dismay. They wanted to be there for you, but maybe a mother figure might help you open up with what’s bothering you. They agree and let the two women go to your trailer. Before they can get to you, they get some snacks from crafties for you.

As soon as you shut the trailer’s door behind you, the tears welled up in your eyes again. It only took a matter of seconds until they fell from your eyes and down your cheeks. You heard some people walk by outside and cover your mouth to muffle the whimpers that came out your mouth. You slid down the door and shoved your head into your hands. You leaned forward against your knees as you cried into your arms. You felt pathetic, embarrassed, anger; you were feeling so many things and the only way to let them all out seemed to be crying.

They heard your cries from behind the door. Scarlett sends Elizabeth an alarmed look as she rushes up to your door. She knocked on it repeatedly, causing you to jump from behind the door. Your cries come to a stop while you try to wipe away the tears as best as you can.

“(Y/n), honey, please open the door.” You hear Scarlett say. You remain silent, getting up and dusting your legs off. You stare at the door, debating whether you should open it or not.

“(Y/n), everyone’s worried about you. We just want to help.” Another voice coaxes you behind the door. Elizabeth. “Please let us in.”

Outside, the two women had their ears pressed up against your trailer’s door. Scarlett tries to get you to open the door again, “It’s only me and Lizzie. I promise.”

There was some shuffling heard behind the door. The door pushes open slowly, making Scarlett and Elizabeth back away. A worried expression appears on Scarlett’s face once she sees you. She cups your cheeks, her thumbs gently swiping away some tears that fell from your eyes. The two of them shuffle inside your trailer. You burst out into tears once again when Scarlett wraps her arms around you. She moves you both to sit on the couch that was in your trailer. She lets you shove your head into the crook of her neck while her hands smoothed your hair. Elizabeth sits behind you rubbing circles onto your back. Your cries broke both their hearts. You were a fairly happy girl, to see you in such pain and heartache was hard to watch.

Scarlett rocks you back and forth, trying to calm you down by whispering comforting words into your ear. She presses a motherly kiss onto your forehead once she sees you start to calm down. Elizabeth waits patiently beside you waiting for when you’re ready to talk. When your whimpers turned into hiccups, Scarlett pulls your face away from her neck to look at you. She frowns when she sees your tear stained cheeks.

“Are you going to tell us what’s going on or are you going to keep bottling it up to yourself?” She asks you softly, tucking strands of your hair behind your ears. Elizabeth chimes in from behind you, “You know, sometimes it helps to tell others what’s bothering you. You don’t have to keep it to yourself, (y/n), you could talk to us.” She gathers your hair together, splitting it into two parts as she began to fish tail braid your hair. 

You take a moment to compose yourself before eyeying the two women. You knew you could trust them. Scarlett was like your on-set mom and Lizzie was like one of your aunts. If you could tell anyone on set what was going on, it would be them.

“He broke up with me.” You confess, eyes trained on your lap. Lizzie’s fingers stop braiding your hair, “What?”

“Peyton, he broke up with me.” You whined, not wanting to say it again. You fiddle with your fingers while a tear falls to your lap.

“Oh honey.” Scarlett cooes pulling you back into her chest. You sniffle and wrap your arms around her torso. Silently crying into her shoulder.

“Did he give you a reason why?” Lizzie asks softly. You move away from Scarlett’s hold and lean against the couch with your knees to your chest. Lizzie wraps an arm around your shoulder for comfort.

You glanced at your phone that was on the coffee table, “H-he texted me earlier this morning. He said he couldn’t do the long distance thing anymore and that he has feelings for somebody else.”

Anger flashes in Scarlett’s eyes, “He broke up with you over a text message?” You nod in response.

“What a dick.” She mutters glaring at your phone. It’s quiet for a few minutes. Until you ask them, “Am I not worth trying for a long distance relationship?”

Lizzie shakes her head, “No, don’t you ever think that because you are.”

You sigh and throw your head back, “Then why did he break up with me? Is there something wrong with me? Am I not pretty enough?” Scarlett interrupts your questions by shushing you.

“There is not a damn thing wrong about you. Don’t you ever let a man, let alone a boy, make you question your worth.” Scarlett advises you a stern look on her face. “You are the most sweetest and loveliest girl I have ever met in my life. You’re kind, you care about the people around you—you even laugh at Anthony’s stupid jokes.”

Lizzie snorts beside you and squeezes your shoulder, “And his jokes are the worst.”

Scarlett continues, “You are a talented young woman already making it big in the movie industry and you did it all on your own. You are beautiful inside and out. You’re perfect, there’s nothing wrong with you.”

“Then why did he leave me?”

“Because he’s an idiot that doesn’t know your worth.” Lizzie answers resting her head on your shoulder. “I know it hurts now but these things happen for a reason. He wasn’t meant for you and you weren’t meant for him. Maybe somewhere in the future you guys will meet and try again. Or maybe you’ll move on with someone new. That’s just how it is. It may sound harsh, but it’s the truth.”

Scarlett nods at Lizzie, “Take it from me, I’ve been married twice. When it seems like you found that special person, sometimes it’ll all come crashing down. And it’s not an easy thing to go through. It’s full of pain, heartache, self doubt and a bunch of other heart wrenching things. But in the end you come out a stronger version of yourself.”

You stare at Scarlett, “How did you do it?”

Scarlett softly smiles at you, “Well, I had lots of friends who supported me every step of the way. But most importantly, I valued myself. I did things that made me happy and took care of myself mentally and physically.”

You bite your lip in thought as you stare at the ground.

“Listen to me.” Scarlett urges you, “You’re young, (y/n). You’re going to meet so many more people in the future that’ll bring you so much happiness and love in your life. Don’t beat yourself up over one boy who decided to leave you because he wasn’t committed for a long distance relationship. You’re going to be okay.” She assures you, cradling your face. Your lips form into a tight smile while you nod in response.

“You have us and the rest of the people outside of this trailer to support you. We’ll always have your back, whatever it is, I promise you that. You’re not going to go through this by yourself.” Lizzie promises you, taking your hand into hers. You hum and rest your head on her shoulder. You pull on Scarlett’s arm to join you and Lizzie. She chuckles and hugs you from behind.

“Thank you guys.” You whisper, genuinely grateful that you had them in your life. Lizzie pecks your temple, “Anytime darling.”

[inthisroomofsilence]

Another round of Pauley Perrette’s bullshit

All tweets from July 21st 2020!

So, Pauley read an article about the abuse by a show runner on a different CBS show. Pauley mentions that she knew of this guy’s abuse for a long time but did nothing even though some of her closest friends works on that show. Pauley remained silent about it UNTIL someone else fought the guy. And then she has the gall to expect rewards for knowing of this show runner’s behavior and doing nothing. 

She remained silent over actual abuse but screams and shouts over alleged abuse in form of physical and psychological abuse. 

2018: in secret DMs to fans she called Harmon a psychopath, bully & narcisst 

2019: she openly accuses Harmon of physical assaults, punching & shoving her around, bodychecking her

2020: Add to that she also now claims Harmon is a misogynist, homophobe and racist

So far, she could NOT prove her allegations. Not a single one. So, the question is what more could she accuse Harmon off next year? There’s a pattern. With every year she adds more accusations towards him.

Despite: Knowing that Harmon is friends with people of color and gay couples in real life. Despite having shown support towards a former make-up artist from NCIS when she was fighting breast cancer. He collected donations, doubled it and brought it to her in person. Someone else made that public, not Harmon.

Let’s move on: She is seeking symphathy by bringing her dead mother into this. Her mother died when Pauley was a child, not an adult trying to make a career in Hollywood.

Also, she claimed that she hadn’t paid attention to the abuse happening since day one. So, she really isn’t the humanitarian she wants the world to believe she is when she willingly and happily ignores bullying and so on as long she gets lots of money and publicity.

And another thing: This is the woman who cheered her now ex-boyfriend Thomas Arklie on when he called a straight man a “faggot”. So much for supporting the LGBTQ campaign.

Now, several fans with accounts on Twitter, Tumblr and even Instagram have made it public that a great bunch of crew members has reached out to them with proof of Pauley’s wrong doings and bad behavior on set. She was caught on camera verbally and from what I understand, also physically attacking members of the crew and cast. Does that sound like the cast and crew are supporting her? Secretly or not? Personally, I haven’t seen videos or photos but I’ve been chatting with one member of the crew who’s very happy to be rid of the “entitled, selfish liar”. It speaks volumes about how people that spend working with her for over 10 years view her behavior. I have heard stories of how she refused to work with certain guest stars, how she threw tantrums when she didn’t get her wishes. I could go on. I don’t need to see any videos. I’ve seen enough of her lies, accusations and the damage those caused to the individuals she has targeted in the past.

Let’s not forget: Harmon and Cote de Pablo were both being trashed by her in public. The private DMs about her thoughts of Cote had been released. Part of me hopes that someone soon will leak the other DMs she wrote to fans talking badly of Sasha Alexander, Lauren Holly, Jennifer Esposito, Maria Bello, Emily Wickersham and Diona Reasonover. Or the ones of her rather digusting thoughts of David McCallum, Michael Weatherly, Sean Murray, Brian Dietzen, Rocky Carroll, Duane Henry and Wilmer Valderrama and even Donald Bellisario.

You see, she has trashed all of them, in private or in public. Pauley Perrette thinks everyone should believe her. Everyone questioning her, seriously very contradicting, accusations is called a “troll” or “hater”. 

But why should we believe her words and not doubt them? Because she is white? Because she is a woman? Because she is a white woman? That’s right. We are not to demand any sort of proof for her allegations, past, present and future. She won’t stop now. Or at some point. For as long as she has those brainless and mindless fans believing every single one of her sob or hero stories, she won’t stop. More is to come.

And the absolute nerve of her to state that she had to use her own money to pay for lawyers is astonishing. It really is. All over the world people fear losing their jobs because of the pandemic, people are struggling to survive in every aspect of their daily lives: monetary and healthwise. For someone with millions of $$$ in her account, she comes across as a whiny and uncaring bitch.

And it doesn’t matter if her entitlement and need to make everything about herself take away the spotlight and attention from REAL abuse and tragedies as long as it brings her the attention she craves.

Last but not least, she is once again throwing shade at the entire cast and crew of NCIS whilst claiming she wants to protect them. Weird, isn’t it? And then she has to drag people into this that weren’t around, that only know one side of the story. Attention seeking behavior right in front of our eyes.

And never ever forget that she was/is close friends with Les Moonves and has Harvey Weinstein’s fixers on her payroll. Remember that she had no problem to throw Eliza Dushku under the bus because Pauley, at least for the public pretends to, like the guy.

And in a different recent tweet of hers she claimed herself to have been a model since the age of 2... well, didn’t she always say that she never intended to become famous? That she kind of accidently stumbled into acting? Which one is it? Like, she hates all food and that humans need it to live and in the next week food is yummy and she only hates some foods, not all.

So, I will say it loudy: I stand with every single man she has accused in the past. I stand with every single woman she has accused in the past. I stand with the cast and crew of NCIS who had to deal with her bad behavior for 15 years because she had the ear of Moonves.

[jay-me-says]

Things Were Different Back Then

CHAPTER ONE: The Protagonist Returns

Masterpost w/ more info on the fic | Note: all SBI-related relationships here are platonic!

Tubbo fidgets with the buttons on his suit jacket, the shiny gold a pretty contrast to the forest green fabric. The notion seems utterly laughable to him, but he’s nervous to see Tommy.

It’s been a while since the blond was last in L’manburg. A few weeks after Tubbo became president, Tommy had left. “I just need to clear my head for a while. I’ll be back,” he had said. Nearly a month had passed with no Tommy and no word from him. Until a few days ago, when Tubbo had received a message via carrier parrot. It was from Tommy, saying he was okay and would be home in a few days.

Tubbo had felt happy at first, but now he was nervous out of his mind. The past few days had been spent making preparations for Tommy’s return. Everyone wanted to make his homecoming special, so the whole nation had pitched in to decorate and prep food to welcome Tommy back with a feast. The entire time he was helping prep, Tubbo had felt like a blob. A wobbly, wiggly version of himself that had no solid shape and was made only of nerves and worry.

He was terrified that something might go wrong, or that he hadn’t done enough to welcome his dear friend back home. Even with the entire nation covered in banners and candles and lanterns, Tubbo kept wondering what else he could do. He’d even been tempted to temporarily lift the ban on explosives to allow fireworks, but in the end decided it wouldn’t look good for a president to go around breaking his own laws.

Presently, Tubbo is standing about ten feet from the gates of L’manburg. One of the first things the country had done after the revolution against Schlatt (after tearing down and replacing the hideous obsidian flag of Manburg) was build a wall around their territory to prevent attackers from waltzing in freely. Along with that project had come a large gate. It was made of spruce wood and opened with a pulley on either side, requiring two people to lift it.

Watchtowers dot the wall, where people often take turns scanning the terrain beyond. Mainly, they watch for invaders from the Dream SMP. In the short time Tubbo has been president, there hasn’t been much activity. Just a scout every now and again. They keep watch anyways, on edge after a history full of war. Fundy is sitting in one of the towers closest to the gate, keeping an eye out for Tommy. Eret and Puffy each stand by one of the pulleys, talking. Everyone else mills around, staying close to the gate while talking to one another.

The air in the nation has been filling up with anticipation since Tubbo made the announcement about Tommy’s return. It feels like electricity, energizing the clusters of people, making them more alert. Every slight noise from outside the gate turns heads.

Tubbo, zoned out while worrying his mind and his button, doesn’t notice Niki approach. When she places her hand on the president’s shoulder, he startles, drawing in a sharp breath and snapping his head to look at her. Seeing that it’s just his fellow council member, the tension drops from his shoulders and he slowly exhales. After the Second Revolution, Tubbo had decided to alter the way L’manburg’s executive branch ran. Instead of a single president, he wanted there to be multiple leaders. Soon after the coup, before Tommy left, there was an election that voted himself, Niki, and Tommy in. Fundy has been acting as a stand-in for Tommy since he left.

Niki’s brow is creased slightly in concern. “Are you alright, Tubbo? You look nervous.”

He doesn’t try to hide it. “I am, Niki. I really am. It’s just,” he pauses for a moment and sighs, “it’s been so long since I’ve seen him. What if he’s changed a lot- what if I've changed- and we don’t get along?” Tubbo keeps fidgeting with his button, eyes locked on Niki’s.

Niki uses her hand on Tubbo’s shoulder to gently turn him to face her fully. She puts her free hand on his other shoulder and squeezes. Tubbo catches the sparkle of her promise ring to Puffy in his peripheral vision. “I can understand your worry, Tubbo, but I’m sure it’ll be fine. Even if he has changed, you’re Tommy and Tubbo, L’manburg’s favorite dream duo. You’ll work it out, I’m sure of it.”

The way Niki’s gaze locks onto Tubbo comforts him. She looks so certain. Like she’s telling Tubbo that the sky is blue. It settles him some, but he still grips the button on his jacket. His fingers have stilled, though.

“Thank you, Niki.”

“Anytime, Tubbo.”

Right as Niki finishes speaking, Fundy hollers from his tower. They both glance over as he yells, “Tommy’s back!”

Tubbo looks back to Niki, eyes wide with excitement. The other council member is grinning. She squeezes his shoulders again, then gives him a soft shove towards the gate. “Go! Go meet him!”

Nerves temporarily forgotten, the brunette takes off. The built-up electricity crackles through the air and into his body, making his limbs lighter. In that moment, Tubbo is sure that he has never run faster.

Eret and Puffy have started pulling up the gate and Fundy is scrambling down from the tower, rushing to join the crowd that has gathered a few feet away from the wooden bars. They are packed in tightly, already calling hellos to Tommy. When they notice Tubbo, though, they move and let him barrel through.

When he gets to the front of the crowd, stumbling to a stop, Tubbo’s eyes finally land on Tommy. His hair is ruffled and he’s smiling, eyes lit up as he scans over the crowd of his friends. When his gaze falls on Tubbo, he grins even wider. At the same moment, they take off running.

Now, Tubbo is sure, he’s never run faster. The boys nearly bowl each other over as they crash into a hug. They grip each other tightly. An observer would swear they’d never let go.

Relief and affection pools up inside of Tubbo, filling him to the brim and making him feel warm. Tommy is safe. Tommy is here, in L’manburg, in his arms. No more wondering where he is or if he’s okay.

“I missed you so much,” Tommy breathes, the hint of a laugh tangled in his syllables.

Tubbo sinks deeper into the hug. “I missed you, too. I’m so glad you’re back.” He grips the other boy tighter, if possible.

Their words are muffled, faces buried in each other’s shoulders. Tubbo could stay like this for hours and not mind.

But they do break apart. Tubbo tries not to feel a little sad and grins up at the taller boy, who grins back. He’s not sure he would ever admit this out loud, but Tubbo had missed those bright blue eyes of Tommy’s.

The taller boy grabs Tubbo’s right hand in his own and squeezes. The look he gives him sinks into the brunette’s soul, conveying words he hasn’t said aloud. We'll finish this later.

Tubbo nods and gently lets his friend’s hand go. As he walks away, it feels like something is missing. Like Tubbo has taken his hands off a warm mug and the cold is seeping into his skin. He can practically hear Tommy saying, “Clingy bitch.”

Tommy is greeted like a hero returning from slaying some vexatious beast. The crowd jumps on him, each person gripping him close in turn and welcoming him home.

As Quackity is greeted with a yell of “Big Q!” Tubbo finally notices the dog. Really, he’s unsure how he missed it in the first place. It’s about as large as a small bench and fluffy beyond belief, with fur the same color as the quartz blocks that make up the Prime church. Tubbo’s heart melts a little when he sees the familiar green bandana tied around the dog’s neck.

The dog barks in excitement, running around, picking up the crowd’s energy. Many L’manburgians are already dishing out pets. It’s a challenge, though. The dog only stays still for a few seconds before running more laps around the group.

Tubbo also notices the parrot, then, flapping around nearby Tommy’s head. It’s mostly green with just a little smudge of a lemony yellow on its forehead and wings. It’s the same parrot that delivered Tommy’s message. Tubbo had sent the bird back to Tommy afterwards, bearing a response letter and a little pouch with a few cookies made by Niki.

The light, energetic feeling vanishes from Tubbo’s limbs when he sees Tommy stood in front of Wilbur. The tall brunette looks uncomfortable, shifting his weight from foot to foot and picking at the hem of his gray sweater. For a few seconds, they do nothing but stand across from each other, staring. The scene sucks the electricity out of the air, hoarding it all and turning the pair into a greedy storm cloud.

Finally, Tommy reaches out a tentative hand. Wilbur glances between the hand and Tommy’s face, then carefully takes it. They shake and Tommy moves on quickly, finishing his greetings. The stolen electricity slowly leaks back into the atmosphere.

The group had moved outside of the wall earlier, following Tubbo after he booked it out to meet Tommy. Now, they lead the blond into L’manburg, towards the spruce platforms where the podium once stood. A long table has been set up and covered in food and dishware. Tubbo snags a seat next to Tommy and lets himself get swept away in the energy of the group. They loudly tell stories, taking turns updating Tommy on what’s happened since he left and listening as the blond regales them with tales from his time away. Being around everyone like this, eating together and talking about anything and everything, warms Tubbo’s heart. He feels happy. By the time the sun sets, his cheeks are aching from so much smiling.

The L’manburgians stay at the table well into the night, orange light cast from lanterns keeping the mobs at bay. But as the moon traces a path through the sky, the group slowly thins out and people return to their homes for the night. Eventually, there are only a few people left at the table.

After Quackity leaves, clapping his hand on Tommy’s shoulder when he walks by, the blond nudges Tubbo to get his attention. “Do you want to head back up to your house? I’m pretty tired.”

Tubbo agrees and the two say their goodbyes, leaving Eret, Philza, and Fundy as the final three at the table. Tubbo privately wonders where Wilbur has gone, figuring he would’ve stayed with his father and son, but thinks better than to ask. It seems like a charged question, and he’d rather not ruin the mood.

As Tubbo and Tommy make the short walk home, the dog and the parrot trailing along behind them, there isn’t a single quiet moment. They chatter back and forth about everything and nothing. Tubbo once again feels warm. He’s missed this, all of it. Everything that he couldn’t do with Tommy while he was gone.

When they reach his house, Tubbo opens the door and gestures for Tommy to go in first. The dog follows, parrot sitting atop his fluffy head, then Tubbo enters. Tommy, of course, has his own home in L’manburg to stay in. He was around long enough after the revolution against Schlatt to build one. But they had decided via carrier parrot that he would stay with Tubbo for a few days, giving the pair time to catch up and see each other more.

While Tommy gets settled in the guest room, Tubbo sits in a wooden chair near the bed and they keep talking. Tubbo never seems to run out of words with Tommy around.

“So, what’s up with the dog?” Tubbo inquires as the great, fluffy wolf sits in front of him. It places a large paw on his lap, so Tubbo scratches its head.

Tommy flits between his bag and the wardrobe, putting away his armor and spare clothes. “That’s Walter. I had set up camp for a bit in some woods and he came to check it out. I gave him some steaks and when I went to leave, he followed. He’s been with me for about half the time I’ve been away, I think.”

“He’s massive.”

Tommy cracks a smile. “Seriously. A child could use him as a pony.”

Still petting the dog, Tubbo turns his gaze to the parrot sitting on the headrest of the bed. He makes a mental note to bring Tommy some things for it tomorrow. “Did you name the parrot?”

“Yeah, Henry II. What’s up with the parrots anyways?” He pauses in putting away his things and looks at Tubbo, brow creased in confusion.

“It was Ponk’s idea. He figured it would be nice to have a way to send messages, so he’s been training up parrots. He runs a little mail building where most of them are kept. Got built a week or so after you left.”

“Has it actually been helpful?” An edge of doubt creeps into Tommy’s voice, but he seems rather curious.

“I mean, it was helpful to get some warning before you got back, so we could prepare to give you a big welcoming. Besides that, it has been pretty convenient. I’ve been using the system to send people notes. It’s sort of nice to not have to go to peoples’ houses to communicate with them.”

Tommy hums in response as he resumes putting away his things. As he finishes, shutting the wardrobe, he says, “That was really nice, by the way. Thank you, you guys didn’t have to do that.”

“Of course we did. We all wanted to. Although, the decorations were mostly Wilbur. Man barely stopped working on them since we got word you were coming.”

Tubbo realizes too late that he probably shouldn’t have brought up Wilbur, especially after how tense Tommy had been back at the gate with him. Kicking himself, he hurries on, “By the way, Tommy, you’re still invited to take back your council seat. I’m sure Fundy will be thrilled to be relieved of his post. He’s been working really hard, but he doesn’t enjoy it all that much.”

Tommy pushes the tip of his shoe into the floor and glances off to the side. “Er, yeah, about that, do you think he could stay on just a little while longer? I- I don’t know if I’m feeling up for that yet. Everything is so different, and I just need some time to adjust if…if that’s alright.” He looks at Tubbo again on the last sentence. Tubbo is a little surprised but understands. “I’m sure you could ask him about it. I was planning to show you around tomorrow anyway, so we could stop by his and Phil’s and Wilbur’s house and speak with him. We could invite Niki along, as well.”

If asked, Tubbo would say he wants to invite Niki because she’s also on the council, and conversations about the council should involve her. And that is partly true, but he also wants another buffer in case they end up talking to Wilbur.

Tubbo tries to start up the conversation properly again, but it’s not quite the same. Tommy still seems somewhat tense, and sort of withdrawn. The brunette wishes he hadn’t brought up Wilbur like that. The comment had turned the air thick- it almost felt hard to breathe.

When he thinks he might suffocate by staying in the room any longer, Tubbo says goodnight, wanting out before his tongue can dig him a deeper hole. “I’m just down the hall if you need me,” he adds as he gets up from the chair.

Before he can leave, Tommy crosses the room and grabs his friend’s arm, tugging him into a hug. Tubbo squeezes back, again glad that the boy is in L’manburg and within his reach once more. A small smile tugs at his features.

“I really did miss you, Tubbo. Thank you for the party,” Tommy murmurs against Tubbo’s shoulder.

“Of course, Tommy. We were glad to do it.”

The boys break apart and say a final goodnight before Tubbo goes to his room. As he gets ready for bed, he thinks about how Tommy is acting about Wilbur; he sort of shut down after the mention of him. It worries the brunette, but he tries to brush it off. Surely, it’ll be fine in a few days. Tommy just needs to get used to being back and sort things out with his brother.

‘

You can also read this on Ao3! | Next Chapter Please consider reblogging if you enjoyed! <3

[evien-stark]

✧I Need You✧ Chapter 108 [End: Captain America: Winter Soldier]

“-it’s plain as day, SHIELD has been- should be- labeled as a terrorist organization for their efforts in multitudes of operations-” 

“Then they’re a government sanctioned and paid for terrorist organization! If the members in the benches want to blush at the fact that one of their top spy agencies got caught, then let them turn beet red. But I will not sit here with my colleagues and listen to you pretend you weren’t writing every single check that came their way.” 

“And what of the checks that were issued via Stark Industries?” 

“Non-existent. Try again. Stark Industries has maintained itself as an independent business focused on technology and efforts that improves people’s lives.” 

“And the Avengers?” 

“Brought together under the direction of SHIELD but, rest assured, move of their own agency. While we’ve worked through SHIELD with the US government, we are more than happy to drop the middle man.” 

“You’re asking the government to fund vigilantism?” 

“The Avengers team was constructed to handle enhanced- and otherwise otherworldly threats that the military has no capacity to handle. And, again, I remind you that SHIELD used to be a government organization, since you all conveniently keep forgetting. That puts us above random lawless people running around in masks. I say we’ve done our jobs pretty well. And we’ll continue to do them- no funding from Uncle Sam necessary.” 

“Because of Stark Industries. What was that about being an ‘independent business’?” 

“The Avengers have every cause and the means to handle things the government has otherwise decided they can’t. I’d say removing people from fatal danger when the military is unable to do so, and funding relief efforts when the government sits on their hands counts as life improvement.”

                                                 ---

You and Tony had taken multiple trips back and forth from New York to DC over the past few days. It was to be expected, what with the massive shit storm going on. The two of you were tired, beaten, and worn down, but this was no time to stop. Especially not when you and everyone in your team was being accused of some pretty high crimes.

As you’d expected, the government was not handling the SHIELD leaks all that well. Classified documents spilled to the world in the name of the greater good was not the sort of thing they liked. They would have much rathered everyone kept their mouths shut and allowed Hydra scum to continue thriving. Probably would have preferred a world in which they could quietly direct the Avengers to try and capture as many as they could, while the common American slept in ignorance. 

But that was too bad. What had happened, happened. Your testimony in congress, along with Maria Hill’s and Natasha Romanoff’s played on all the 24 hour news stations. Clip after clip after clip in an endless nauseating run. There was so much to digest. So much to pick apart. Or praise. Depended heavily on which station was doing the featuring. From time to time, your press briefing the day after the Battle at the Triskellion would pop in and out. 

“-Stark Industries is not a safe haven for Hydra. Rest assured, as we speak, our security personnel are taking Hydra into custody, as I imagine the government is doing with their own staff, and getting ready for trials that will last years. We are ready to expend as many resources as necessary to bring them to the justice they deserve. Justice they should have seen years ago, were it not for overzealous intervention that invited them into our country. Into our homes. But there’s no going back now. Tony and I-” 

“Mute.” Silencing the TV as you walked into your office. Having touched back down at Tower after your fifth jet ride in three days. You wanted nothing more than to go upstairs and go to sleep. Take a nap. Didn’t you deserve it, after all this shit? 

But Pepper had been trailing your heels since you’d landed on the tarmac, with a long list of things for you to do. As predicted, the government hearings were ending with them labeling SHIELD as a terrorist organization. They’d only been crowing about it the entire time they’d been bearing down on you. With that came its disbanding. 

So. Time to sow some wild OATs as Tony had put it, after going over your proposal. It was almost hilarious, that way. As some of the documents you’d read (been forced to read, and brought up during the hearings) had stated plain as day that SHIELD and the government had invited Hydra scientists into their labs. Operation Paperclip. What a wonderful idea. 

Thinking they had something to offer that otherwise decent people may not have. Taking a chance. Gambling on that. And, well… after all this you’d have to say it had failed spectacularly. Now, looking on the other side of things, you were about to open a new office to handle the influx of SHIELD agents that were sending in resumes in order to not only keep working but not be threatened by the government they used to work for. 

How quickly the tables turned. Ellis had assured you this was best case scenario. And all he could do. If he’d done anything at all. Sure as hell didn’t feel like it. You had to count your blessings and just thank him regardless. You supposed they really could have come after the Avengers much harder. And… to be honest, you really weren’t prepared for something of that magnitude right now. Hopefully it would never come to that. 

As you signed your name on ten more dotted lines and then sent her away, you got immediately caught with your head in your arms after Pepper left the office and then seconds later poked her head back in. “Maria Hill is here to see you.” 

Sitting up slowly, you ran a hand through your hair. “Yeah.” Despite sharing a table with her for your part of the hearings, you hadn’t actually been able to speak with her at length. It had only been a matter of time before she showed up here. 

Pepper stepped aside to let her into your office and then shut the door. Maria came in, head held high, as always with her. She seemed like a very proud woman. Then she put a folder on your desk and took a seat. “Figured I’d come for the interview personally.” 

“Your resume?” Arching a brow at her. When she nodded you tried not to jump at the opportunity. “You’re hired. You’re now director of the OAT initiative. Go down to HR. Get a badge, do the paperwork, get an email set up. We’ll give you a phone.” 

“...just like that?” At least a little surprised. 

“They’re your people. If there’s anyone I can trust to treat them fairly, it’s you.” She was exactly what you needed. Someone you knew who would do right by these poor people so that you could take it off your plate and not micromanage it. Absolutely perfect. 

She smiled lightly. “Can we at least talk salary?” 

“What was SHIELD paying you?” Folding your hands atop the desk, sitting a little straighter. 

“61k a year. ...decent benefits.” 

“200k. Fantastic benefits. Holiday bonuses.” 

“That’s uh- that’s a solid deal.” Standing up she offered her hand for a shake, so you hid your pain as you stood to meet her with a firm grip. “Just understand, I can’t sit behind a desk forever. Once we’re done with this employee transfer, I’d like something a little more… substantial.” 

A grin found its way to you. “Like I told our dear members of congress, Stark Industries merely funds the Avengers. If that’s the next thing you’re about to ask… I have a different office for that.” 

She smiled back, holding your shake for only a second longer before letting you go. All too soon the expression vanished, and her voice lowered. “Nick is headed to Europe for now. Laying… as low as someone like him can get. But. ...he’s really grateful. For everything you’re doing.” 

Disappointment struck through you very suddenly. Although you didn’t have the closest relationship with Maria, you couldn’t help but let some of your feelings leak out of you. “I really wish…” Sighing, thinking twice about it- and then proceeding anyway. “I just wish he and I could have had a coming together moment or something. Where we finally saw eye to eye. There was a time I shook his hand and it seemed like things were getting better. And then they felt like they got worse. And I don’t know if we’ll ever rectify it all.” 

Was that bad? Did you care? ...some part of you must have. After all this time, you wanted to believe things were worth repairing with Nick.

She looked mildly uncomfortable, crossing her arms, and then cast her gaze aside. “I’ve worked a very long time for Nick Fury. He’s a very complicated man. And we don’t always agree on everything. But I know that whatever he’s doing, however he’s doing it, it’s always for reasons he thinks are right. He’s always just trying to do his best. Even when that means making the toughest calls. That’s why I’ve stuck by him so long.” When she looked up at you, she caught you off guard. “You know exactly what that’s like, I imagine.” 

You weren’t sure if you wanted to dignify that with an answer. It wasn’t Maria’s fault. And you had no reason to make her feel bad about it, but… comparing Nick to Tony… you weren’t quite there yet. So you chose the worse option, deciding the stay in your position over building a stronger foundation, letting a small silence hang. Then, you just gave her a smile. “Well… anyway. Pepper will show you to HR. Once you’re all set up, I’ll send things your way.” 

“Sure. Thanks.” 

She was at least quick and efficient, turning and leaving without another word. Maybe ready to go to work. It was one less mess you had to focus on, and for that you’d be grateful. But it was just as the door had shut and you had sat down, for no less than five seconds, that it opened again. 

It wasn’t the best look to be barking in the tone that you did, but you kind of just couldn’t help it. “What now?” 

Immediately silenced by the door opening wider to reveal Steve standing there. He looked better than he had, lying in that hospital bed, but it still made your heart ache. Just looking at him. Which wasn’t a very good sign. He looked just as upset. “I figured we needed to talk.” 

Thoughts of him had been churning around in your head for the past little while now, surely not unduly so. Congress had asked about him multiple times, but you, Maria, and Nat had told them the three of you were enough. He didn’t need to get mixed up in all this. 

“Yeah, I guess we do.” This wasn’t his fault. How could it be? The more you thought about it… the more you wondered if it was your own inherent selfishness that had caught him in between a rock and a hard place. You’d told him you’d cared about him, and practically begged him not to… do exactly what he’d done. Get beaten to near death to try and make a point. 

But, that’s not all it was. That voice that you’d heard in your head- Steve, calling out for this man. Bucky. It had been so… so sad. Almost unrecognizable. 

You wondered. You wondered what your own decisions would have been, had it been you on the other side of something like that. Steve very clearly cared a great deal for this man. That had been his advantage. He loved him, without a doubt. Maybe not in the same way you loved Tony, but for basis of comparison… you’d thought about it more than once. 

What if someone got control of Tony? And turned him against you? Would you fight back? Would you kill him, knowing the real man you loved was underneath? Or would you… try and do just enough. Fall to your knees. To make a point. To try and hold out. To try and get him back- 

Same as Steve had no doubt done. 

He was intensely uncomfortable. “Can we take a walk?” 

Despite your aching body and its protests, you stood. “I’d like that.” 

                                                ---

Before leaving the building you asked Happy to set up a thirty foot security perimeter to keep paparazzi and reporters at bay as you and Steve walked one of Central Park’s paths. Cold as you were even wearing your own jacket, he dropped his over your shoulders without a second thought, and stuck his hands in his pockets. There was silence for probably too long a time before you broke it. 

“Tell me about him. About Bucky.” 

Sam’s debrief report had come in a day ago, and his conversations with Steve had told you all you needed to know for base information. Steve had fought against Bucky and lost. Steve also thought Bucky had dragged him out of the river after perhaps putting him there in the first place- he’d be right about that, as no one on your team had done it. But after that, no one had a trace on that man. So right now… he was just sort of gone. Which was kind of a problem. 

But to really address it, you had to do exactly what you were doing now. 

Listening to Steve talk, after his surprise that you’d ask that (maybe about how you knew that name), about James Buchanan Barnes. His best friend. They’d met as kids, when Bucky had defended him from some bullies trying to steal his lunch money, and had been stuck to each other ever since. Steve was intensely fond of this man. Proud of him. Looked up to him. Tried to shape himself after him. 

And from the sounds of it, no matter how tough it got, the two of them always looked after each other- Bucky, a little more so, after Steve’s parents had died. Yes, love was no longer a question. Deep and platonic. And then, in the midst of their war with Hydra, he thought he’d seen Bucky killed. 

For years he’d carried a sense of extremely heavy guilt over him about it- and had probably never processed it, either. Having to move on so quickly. It made sense. Too much sense, then. Why, when having that gun leveled at him by that man he’d just stood there. And it made more sense than was fair, why Steve would have died trying to break somebody’s control over him. 

“Do you think you got through to him?” 

He sighed. “Some part of him… I’d like to think so. It’s why he saved me. It has to be. There was a minute there, between punches, when it was just him looking at me.” 

The next question became obvious. “You’re going to go look for him.” So obvious in fact, you merely needed to state it, not ask. 

“...yeah. I have to. He would have done the same for me.” 

The two of you stopped walking, and just stood there. Looking at each other. It was hard to know what to say next. And you wanted to try and… stop being that selfish version of yourself, especially after knowing you’d be in the exact same position. If you were him. “Steve…” Trying to start and then deflating. But when he simply waited patiently, you tried to gather your courage. “I know we can’t compare. And I’m not asking you to choose- I get it. I was… I was wrong, doing that.” 

Bucky had been his best friend through thick and thin for years. Years and years. They loved each other. You two had only known each other for a short time, no matter how close you felt to him. 

Trying to not lose momentum, you continued. “But… even if that’s true- I’d like to still consider us family. Close. A team. And… no matter what, we’re here, too. For you. You started building something here. I know it wasn’t by choice but… don’t forget that. Please.” 

“I won’t.” There was a light twitch of a smile. “...some of it was by choice, you know.”

You found enough strength to smile back. “I know you think you have to do this on your own, like you owe it to him and your relationship- but if you need anything-” 

He silenced you by reaching out, laying a hand on your shoulder, giving you a little squeeze. Holding steady on that expression. “Believe me when I tell you that you offering means the world to me. And if I do… I’ll ask.” 

Giving him a little side-scrunched pout, you lifted your brows. “No more macho man bullshit?” 

And at this his head dropped forward with a little laugh. “Yeah I-... you know, I never thought I’d ever have a label like that put on me. It’s kind of weird.” 

“But not wrong.” You huffed out, at least indignant about this. You were right. And you knew it. 

“Yeah. Maybe not. I’ll work on it.” 

There was still a small sense of hesitation coming from him. Reaching up, you wrapped your arms around him in a hug, helped when he lowered down that small bit to meet you. It was nice. To just have this. “You looking for my blessing this time?” Joking. 

“Actually- this time…” 

When he let go you settled a gaze up his way, just looking at him. Reaching up, you put a hand just near his shoulder. Not quite over his heart. But. Close enough. “Consider yourself blessed.” 

“Thank you.” 

                                                ---

You gave Steve back his jacket and parted ways amicably. The car ride back to the Tower was short. Once there you headed straight for the labs. Deeper into the private part, Tony was writing some long equation on a holo board next to a few rough schematics, lights dimmed. 

Coming in, you settled your arms around his middle, resting your face against his back. One of his arms moved to rest over yours, while he sketched out however the rest of those numbers made sense to him. Once he was finished, and you were content to wait there until then, he set his marker down. “Rogers leave?” 

Of course he would know that. It was of such little surprise to you that he did, that you didn’t even think twice in answering. “Yeah. Steve’s out for a while.” 

His thumb stroked over your arm. “You okay?” 

“We made peace over it.”

“He stopped here, first.” Ah. Well. That made about as much sense as anything else. Why Tony knew and… why he suspected you might have been a little melancholy over the whole thing. ...also why he was checking in to see if that was true. And how things had ended. 

You wondered how that conversation had gone. The two of them had been a little weird with each other for too long a time there. It wouldn’t help the team, for them to be like that. Steve wouldn’t be away forever. Whether or not he found Bucky, a strong part of you knew he’d be back eventually. 

“And did you two make peace, too?” Couldn’t hurt to ask. 

“I don’t have a problem with him, if that’s what you’re asking.” His shoulders drooped, and for a moment, his fingers curved a little more into your skin. Not painfully, but… in a very telling way. “After he explained- I get it. I still stand by what I said. I wouldn’t stand there and let somebody I knew shoot me- but, hey. We’re not all me. Can’t ask for perfection.” 

Your lips formed a brief smile against his shirt, breathing out a lightly admonishing noise. “Right…” 

“Anyway. I get it. He made a choice. You made a choice. No changing it. And he’s making another choice now. I get that, too.” 

It was easy to imagine Tony had been thinking about the same thing you had. Likening his own relationships to try and make it make sense. The lengths one would go to, to drag someone they loved out from underneath someone else’s control. 

He let go of you, so you dropped your own arms, allowing him to turn to face you. The bruising around his eye was still slightly prominent, as was the cut along the back line of his jaw on the right side. Reaching up, you palmed his cheek, and he moved his hand to hold yours there. 

“We’ll keep his room open.” 

Tony’s lips quirked. “But still charge rent, right?” “We don’t charge anyone rent.” 

“But we pay them. ...and we’re not charging them rent.” His eyes squinted, brows knitting, but his grin was telling. “How are we making money on this operation again?” 

Giggling lightly, you moved to loop your arms around his neck, drawing him in. “Oh, honey, I don’t know how to tell you this. But the Avengers account has been in the red ever since its incarnation.” 

His hands came to your hips, leaning in, nose nuzzling yours. “Who’s in charge again?” 

“Debatable. What, you don’t trust me?” 

“Implicitly.” His warm, amused hum was lost between a press of lips. 

But when you pulled back, “In that case, I need to tell you just how much money we’re losing-” 

With an even lift, he pulled you up onto one of his nearby work stations, grin touching over your smile. “Please don’t. You know what they say-” 

Your giggles continued. “Ignorance is bliss?” 

“Money isn’t everything.” 

 There was a warm purr in the back of your throat as he kissed you again. At the next part, “Says the man who has it all.” Teasing, still.

 Delighting in the way his lips curved over yours. Amused. Lovingly so. His next few thoughts came out between slower and sweeter kisses. “There is one thing more important to me than money… and I’m currently trying to seduce her to bed…”

 Your reply was just a bit breathy. “Oh… is it working?”

 His light laughter against the side of your neck threatened to do you in completely. “You know what, I think so. Lucky me.”

[rosedavid]

I honestly don’t know how I wrote this much, but it just happened. 

Tyrus ‘what if’ oneshot based on these lines: “I’m sorry.” // “I was probably deluding myself anyway.”

Tag list: @swingsetsandmuffins @chlarkthe1st @turtle0verl0rd

Why does it hurt so much?

Cyrus asks himself this question a lot nowadays. When TJ’s text notifications light up his phone, when he spots TJ standing at his locker between classes, when TJ sits with Kira during lunch. Every time, a lump forms in his throat and unshed tears burn his eyes. His friends tell him to stop wasting his energy on TJ, that he doesn’t deserve Cyrus anyway. So Cyrus tries to ignore him and pretend like everything is okay. Somedays, he wakes up and thinks that today will be the day that he feels like normal again. He’ll be able to walk right past TJ without even noticing him. That day still hasn’t come. 

Of course, Buffy and Andi have noticed the subtle changes in Cyrus’s mood. Although he’s admittedly much better than right after costume day, when he went and cried into his pillow in his room, he still feels a hole in his life. He smiles a little less and laughs a little quieter. More often than not, he’ll reject hanging out with his friends unless they’re at someone’s house because he worries he might run into TJ.

Due to these changes, convincing him to come to The Spoon after school is a difficult feat.

“Come on, Cy, it will be fun,” Andi prods. “Don’t you miss baby taters?”

“Not when my parents can get takeout and bring them home to me.”

Buffy decides to chime in next. “I know you’re still hurting, but you can’t let TJ ruin things for you! He’s not worth it. Please come, you know the two of us would never let anything bad happen.”

Cyrus knows she’s right. With everything going on in their lives recently, they all deserve a nice day to relax. He looks at his best friends who eagerly wait for his response. Finally, Cyrus let’s out a deep breath he didn’t know he was holding.

“Yeah, you’re right. And I’m sorry I’ve been so out of whack this week.”

“You lost a good friend, of course you’re out of whack. Besides, I think all of us are struggling with stuff right now,” Andi sighs, placing her head in her hands. Buffy nods in agreement.

A good friend.

Why does it hurt so much?

Deep down, Cyrus knows the answer. He just doesn’t want to admit it because if he does, everything will change for the worse. The special moments between them, the words of encouragement, and lingering touches will mean more; therefore, the heartbreak, the sense of betrayal, all of it will be stronger. So he pushes it back.

At one point in time, Cyrus did have hope. In fact, TJ asking him to do the somersault costume gave him the most hope of all. He felt wanted and perhaps even special. Then, it all came crashing down.

Despite everything that TJ has put him through, Cyrus can’t bring himself to despise him. He can’t even bring himself to be indifferent about TJ. Instead, all he feels is sad and lonely, and he hates himself for it. He still has Andi and Buffy and Jonah here for him, but TJ always filled a different part of his life. Now, that part of his life is an empty chasm.

The remainder of school drags on. The only thing that makes it go faster is that Cyrus doesn’t see TJ once. Nevertheless, lately he fixates on the other boy whenever his mind is wandering. Once school finally does end, he gets excited to hang out with his friends and distract him. Whenever he’s around them, they make him happy.

“Hope you’re hungry for baby taters,” Andi says as they walk to their typical booth in The Spoon.

Cyrus chuckles. “Always. Don’t forget the milkshakes.”

Buffy grins, sliding in beside him. “So, you guys will never believe what happened today in biology…”

That gets them started. Cyrus finds himself not even thinking about TJ.

The bell above the door chimes. That’s when everything goes wrong.

At first, Cyrus pays them no attention, his back to the door. Then, he notices Andi’s face drop at the same time rambunctious laughter starts up. He turns his head toward the front of the diner. It’s some of the members from the boys’ basketball team, and of course that includes TJ and Kira. Are they ever apart? Buffy turns to look as well, face turning into a sneer immediately.

“Don’t worry about them, Cyrus. Just ignore them.”

Cyrus hears Buffy’s voice in the back of his mind, but he’s more concentrated on TJ. This is the closest the other boy has been to him in a long time. He can almost make out the freckles along his cheeks. Then, TJ catches his eyes. Blue lock onto green. Cyrus can’t make himself look away. TJ swallows, opening his mouth slightly as if to speak.

“Oh look, we found the loser table,” Kira taunts, pointing at them. Beside her, TJ says nothing. He drops his mouth closed, eyes moving down toward his feet.

Cyrus can’t deal with this any longer. He rises from his seat, pushing past everyone to go straight out the door. This time, he can’t prevent the tears from leaking out. Seeing him right there with Kira, so close yet so far, it hurt too much. He didn’t even do anything, like he didn’t care. Did he ever care?

“Wait! Cyrus!” Andi calls after him.

He keeps going, not sure where he’s headed. All he knows is he needs to get as far away from TJ as possible. His feet carry him farther and farther, vision blurry from tears and breath short. He still hears footsteps behind him, signifying Buffy and Andi following him.

He’s at the park. This is where everything with TJ started, so it’s only fair it should end here, too. Cyrus can’t bring himself to sit on the swings, so instead, he heads for a bench nearby. Soon, Andi and Buffy come into sight, both wearing sorrowful expressions. They sit down, as well, sandwiching him between them.

“Are you okay?” Andi asks.

Cyrus laughs bitterly. “It just hurts, seeing TJ there with her. It reminds me that he chose her over me. I can’t even blame him! Most boys would’ve chosen her.”

He kicks at the dirt beneath his feet, trying to calm down. His tears slow but refuse to stop completely. Meanwhile, Andi and Buff wrap an arm around him to pull him into a side hug.

His breath hitches. “The worst part isn’t even that I liked him, it’s that I thought he was starting to like me back.”

With the gentlest voice he’s ever heard from her, Buffy whispers, “I’m sorry.”

“I was probably deluding myself anyway,” Cyrus admits with a sniffle.

It hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts

Suddenly, Andi and Buffy tense up beside him. Cyrus brings his head up and pales. He starts to make a move to leave in a hurry. His friends seem to agree with him, following in his footsteps. That’s when TJ speaks.

“Please, wait,” he begs, voice gritty. Cyrus realizes this is the first time TJ has said one word to him since costume day.

“Come on, let’s just go,” Andi urges, but something compels Cyrus to stand his ground.

“Why should I?” He questions. “After everything you’ve done, why should I listen to anything you have to say?”

TJ steps closer. “Just let me explain, please. After that, you don’t have to talk to me ever again if that’s what you want.”

For a split second, Cyrus considers just walking away and not listening to what he has to say, but he can’t. Something seems different about TJ, and not in a good way. Even though they haven’t been talking for a long time, Cyrus knows him. He’s acting off. Maybe it will make things worse, but Cyrus decides that he at least needs some kind of answer.

“Ok.”

“What are you doing, Cyrus?” Buffy worries.

Cyrus turns and smiles slightly at her. “It’s alright, I promise. Wait for me over there?”

The two of them cast him lingering glances before they warily walk away to give them privacy. Cyrus collapses onto the bench. TJ perches on the opposite end. The space feels greater than ever before.

“I miss you,” TJ sputters out.

The desperation in his words make Cyrus want to forgive him then and there, but this time won’t be so easy. “Why did you do it, TJ? Why did you abandon me?”

“I didn’t want to! I was really excited to do our costume, but I just…I couldn’t.”

Cyrus throws his hands up. “That’s not an explanation TJ! Do you know how hard this has been for me? Seeing her with you all the time, knowing that you chose her, it makes me feel like you never really cared about me.”

“That’s not true, I swear!”

“You made me feel special,” Cyrus says, voice cracking. “For once, I didn’t feel like the second choice. But I guess, in the end, I was.”

“You never were, Cyrus,” TJ promises. “I shouldn’t have abandoned you on costume day. I’m a horrible person, but I would never choose Kira over you.”

“You already did.”

“She didn’t leave me any choice!” He shouts. “She didn’t…I had to.”

This throws Cyrus off. “What are you talking about, TJ?”

“I’m a coward, okay? I’m a huge coward. The way she said it just set me off. I couldn’t risk it.”

“Risk what?” Cyrus asks, feeling more and more concerned.

Beside him, TJ is close to hyperventilating. He has tear tracks on his cheeks and runs a hand through his already tousled hair. He looks so unguarded, unlike anything Cyrus has ever seen from him, even when he was coming to terms with his dyscalculia.

Cyrus scoots closer so their shoulders just barely brush. “Hey, you can tell me anything.”

“I don’t want you to hate me,” He murmurs.

“Honestly, I don’t think I could ever hate you,” Cyrus admits. “Even after the whole costume debacle, I tried so hard to hate you, but I just couldn’t.”

TJ brings up a hand and wipes it over his face. His fingers clutch a bundle of his hoodie. After debating with himself for a moment, Cyrus places his hand on TJ’s shoulder. This movement causes TJ to startle and glance up. Cyrus flashes him a gentle smile.

“Kira, she said it was weird of me to be doing a costume with you instead of her,” TJ explains, “and the way she said it…it sounded like she was implying something that I wasn’t ready for people to know.”

A beat of silence.  

“I’m gay.”

Cyrus tugs him into a hug. His heartbeat pounds against his chest. TJ exhales shakily into his hair, causing Cyrus to grip him tighter. Neither of them moves for a while, but finally Cyrus pulls back as he has something to say.

“Thank you for telling me. You’re no different, TJ,” Cyrus emphasizes, remembering back to when he first came out to Buffy. “I just can’t believe Kira did that! I’m sorry.”

“I’m the one who should be sorry for putting you through all of this.”

“You don’t need to apologize. I understand now.”

The two of them move closer as if they’re being pulled by magnets. Cyrus has never been this close to TJ before. He can almost count the individual freckles on his face. He sees the flecks of gold sparkling in his green eyes.

“There’s one more thing, though,” TJ stammers. “Another reason why Kira made me so nervous. She also insinuated that not only would I rather do a costume with a boy over a girl, but that I’d rather do a costume with you specifically because I kind of really like you, Underdog.”

A blush tints Cyrus’s face. “I kind of really like you too, Teej.”

He places a hand on the side of TJ’s face, grinning. He grins back. They both lean in at the same time, closing the small distance between them. TJ’s lips are soft and warm and taste like mint chapstick. They kiss only for a second, but it sends tingles racing through Cyrus’s body. When they separate, they accidentally bump noses and giggle.

All the sudden, they hear gasps from nearby. It’s Andi and Buffy, both standing there with wide eyes and slack jaws.

“What the—” Buffy frowns, tilting her head. “I don’t understand.”

Andi agrees, a dazed look on her face. “Me neither.”

Cyrus glances up at TJ, waiting to see his response. To his surprise, he doesn’t look angry or upset. In fact, he appears joyful. Leaning back Cyrus lets him take the lead in this.

TJ starts, “Well, it’s a long story…”

[tippitv]

TippiTV recap: SPN 15.01 “Back and to the Future”

First a quick note on the format of this recap: I'm dealing with some neck/back/shoulder pain so I'm not going to make a bunch of captioned screen shots and diagrams and other visual aids like I usually do. That stuff, while hugely fun to do, is time-consuming even under ideal conditions. I will instead attempt to provide you with mental images of graphics I would have made.

Now, let's get on with things.

Welcome to the 15th and final season of Supernatural, everyone! If the show were a person we could give it a Quinceañera.

[Graphic: The Impala in a beautiful taffeta gown and tiara and like... satin mudflaps instead of gloves.]

It's been 5140 days since the show premiered. That's 123,360 hours. Our solar system travels around the center of the galaxy at 490,000 miles per hour. This means we have moved through 6.04464e10 miles of space since this show premiered. I don't even know what that means. Once numbers start getting letters in them, I'm lost. But it's got to be nearly as many miles as are on the Impala's odometer.

[graphic of our solar system and the Chevy Impala zooming through space together, perhaps in friendly competition]

The road so far: Man, I do not remember a lot of this. Relevant to this episode is God throwing a hissy fit, killing Jack, and releasing all the souls and/or demons from Hell.

Currently: Jack's eyeless corpse is lying around as corpses are wont to do. The surviving members of Team Free Will are fighting a lot of freshly risen dead bodies that were possessed by the released souls. If it were me just out of Hell, I wouldn't waste time in a rotted corpse. I'd just fuck off as quickly as possible and possess someone who's eating a deep-dish cheese pizza.

The risen dead are polite enough to mostly attack the Winchesters one or two at a time, so they get to grab Jack's corpse and run into a mausoleum for shelter. Okay I understand why the souls can't get through the iron doors but what's stopping the disembodied ones from just going through a window? Or through a stone wall, for that matter?

Sam asks Castiel if he can bring Jack back but he sounds like he already knows the answer. A mid-level angel without all his original powers isn't gonna be able to undo what God's done unless the plot requires it.

[Graphic of Sam's incredibly sad face as he says or thinks "maybe the plot will require it later?"]

Everyone tries to figure out what they're going to do next. Dean snarkily wonders if they're going to starve to death. I mean, no, because the ambulatory corpses will break in before long. Failing that, they'd die of thirst unless Castiel has like a TARDIS bladder that holds Dasani, and then they could eat Jack. Mmm nephilim jerky....

Proving my point for me, a resident of the mausoleum or perhaps a neighbor tries to bust through some of the loose stones just as Sam starts chipping away at them in search of an escape route. Castiel smashes its head with a big rock, causing the ghost to flee? I guess? Whatever it is looks like a glowy skeleton and ghosts usually look like their living selves for the most part.

"What the hell are we gonna do now?" Sam asks.

Ol' Eyeless Jack pops up and says in a friendly tone of voice, "Hello!" Nobody's super shocked by this turn of events.

[Graphic of Jo and Ellen saying "nobody stays dead on this show except us"]

It's just Jack's bod with a demon in it, though. Was he the one that looked like a glowy skeleton? Whatever. He happens upon some budget sunglasses on the floor nearby. No seriously they're sunglasses to save the budget because it wouldn't be cheap or timely to have to CGI empty eyes for the whole episode.

He introduces himself. "My name is Belvegar." The fuck? That sounds like a horrible portmanteau for shipping Mr. Belvedere with Garfield the cat.

[Graphic of Buckleming: "We'd write that!"]

I suppose I should check IMDB to see how that's spelled...

BELPHEGOR???

Oh okay apparently Belph is a prince of hell and "Lord of the Gap," which is like half a step up from being Lord of Old Navy. I'm looking this up on regular Wikipedia not Supernatural Wiki so the show didn't just make him up. It says here he seduces people by suggesting inventions that will make them wealthy. One time I came up with an idea for pills that would turn people's urine into toilet cleaner. I was going to call it Vita-Wiz. And that's why I've never been able to seduce anyone with my inventions.

Anyway Castiel shoves Belph up against a wall, as is customary on this show, and demands he leave Jack's bod. But Belph says he has some mojo that will get rid of all the hellish souls and demons currently trying to get into the mausoleum. Much like how Vita-Wiz gets rid of hard water stains and leaves your toilet with a minty fresh scent!

[Graphic: a colorfully jaunty ad for Vita-Wiz with Sam's endorsement a la the "Changing Channels" Herpexia ad. "I've got powerfully clean urine."]

Belph knows all about the Winchesters but is slightly surprised this latest fuckery is God's fault. He makes himself out to be a low-level demon so either he's lying or the show's not going with the prince of hell backstory. Judging by his delivery and mannerisms he thinks he's auditioning to be in Goodfellas: The High School Years.

[Graphic: High School Musical promo poster but make it mobster]

He goes on to say that, like the Winchesters, he wants all the souls back in Hell where they belong and he can get back to torturing them. "I like my job!" Unrelatable. He can't fix the main shitsplosion that's going on but says he can get them all out of the cemetery safely.

Using some "graveyard dirt" from the floor and angel blood from Convenienstiel, he works a little spell that turns all the risen dead back into just... dead. Unoccupied corpses litter the ground by the dozens. Man, what a mess. You know who isn't gonna like their job in the morning? The groundskeeper.

Also, that sure is a useful spell. I wonder if it will ever come up again...

"Where are all the ghosts?" Dean wonders.

Cut to two teenage girls somewhere else acting like teenage girls Dabb has seen in Troom Troom videos. One of the girls sees herself as a ghost in the mirror and claws her face clean off. Man, that ghost's wig is terrible. Is she Bloody Mary? I don't remember her wig being this bad. I can't believe they couldn't afford a better one even with the Budget Sunglasses.

Back to Three Men and a Belphy. Riding home in the Impala, Sam checks the news. So far, no mention of any kind of worldwide Ghostpocalypse. It seems like you're mostly safe in this universe as long as you don't live in middle America. Belph suggests they may be able to contain the ghosts before things get too out of hand and he just happens to know the right magic.

"Imagine a salt circle a mile wide," he says. Castiel points out that Harlan, Kansas is less than a mile from the cemetery so Dean hatches a plan to get everyone out so as to not trap them inside with the ghosts and demons. Is it gonna be a lame plan that would never work in reality?

But first they stop for a wrecked car on the side of the road. There's blood on the inside of the windshield but no body. "This look familiar to you?" Dean asks Sam. It looks like a lot of wrecks where someone got wanged on the head and wandered off in a daze, but they figure it's the Woman in White. "If she's back then they're all back," Dean goes on. "Every last one that we ever killed."

Okay shout out to everyone who answered my post where I asked if ghosts used to be obliterated rather than going to Hell. The consensus seems to be that the Winchesters didn't really know one way or the other early on and were guessing.

Cut to a woman running through a house with her young daughter in her arms. The aftermath of a destroyed birthday party can be seen. How late in the day were they throwing this kid's party?? To make a long story short, the ghost of John Wayne Gacy is chasing them. I'll just reiterate my hatred of this character, not because Gacy is a serial killer obv, but because it lacks internal logic! Why is he dressed like a clown?? He wasn't executed in his old clown outfit!

Suddenly it's daytime. It's like Bugs all over again. Sam, in a jacket with an FBI decal on it approaches what must be the dumbassiest dumbass sheriff in three states. He convinces the sheriff to evacuate the whole town because of a benzene leak and the sheriff just... takes his word for it. Like, he's never heard of a benzene pipeline in his hometown but doop de doop this handsome giraffe in a cheap jacket said to evacuate so it must be true!

Also why isn't the sheriff down at the cemetery?? Someone would've called that in by now! You know what I don't really care.

Meanwhile, Dean is in the car and tells Castiel to take Belph to go get supplies for the spell. Cas says he can't do it, he can't even bear to look at him. And Dean! Rolls! His! Eyes! Like, Jack's the closest thing Cas will probably ever have to a child. He was with Kelly through her pregnancy. It's only been like eight hours since the kid died horrifically. Don't roll your dang eyes!

Cas leaves and Dean puts the Equalizer gun in the glove compartment along with a copy of The Complete Works of Anton Chekhov.

Belph notices that everyone walking down the street is good-looking. Yeah, that's casting agencies for ya. He says back in his ancient penis-worshiping days, people were uglier. Belph appears to be an equal-opportunity ogler. He turns to Dean. "I mean look at you. You're gorgeous!"

[Graphic: Belphegor replacing his penis-shaped rock altar with that Skittles poster of Jensen Ackles.]

"So who was he anyway?" Belph asks, referring to his meatsuit. "He was our kid, kinda," Dean says. The show manages to resist making a Gay Dads joke that I feel like it would've given into in an earlier season. So, yay progress I guess?

Sam and Castiel split up to check every house for ghosts. That seems super time-consuming. How many Reapers are left besides Billie? I feel like they should get one on the horn unless they're all dead. Anyway, Cas's house is where the Troom Troom girls were killed. The ghost's wig looks even worse in daylight. Do they get their wigs from the Hobby Lobby doll crafting aisle or something?

Sam's house, meanwhile, is where John Wayne Ghosty went on a sartorially illogical rampage. Somehow the mother and daughter are still alive. Dumbass ghosts can't see behind a shelving unit, I guess. The instant Sam gets them safely down, Ass-Clown immediately slices him across the belly. Castiel shows up to blast the ghost with rock salt.

Meanwhile, Belph is fanboying over Dean's torturing skills. Gasp! The show remembered Dean was in Hell. It'd be nice if they were consistent about it but whatever. Belph casually mentions that all the doors in Hell opened and Dean realizes this means the cage, too.

[Graphic: That dancing gif of the actor who played Adam that says "Still in Hell" but now it says "Maybe not in Hell."]

Castiel heals Sam's wound and the fabric of his jacket! The mother and daughter are still standing there seeing all this. Cas is like, "Whatevs, I'm an angel of the Lord & Taylor." The mom is pretty flabbergasted, and even more so when Sam mentions the wound he sustained after shooting God. Castiel can't heal that one, though, because it's probably gonna be a recurring plot point judging by the flash of Evil Sam we see.

The sheriff is making a final sweep through town when he happens upon the Woman in White. The sun looks to be setting, which means it's probably been 16 hours since all the souls and demons escaped, but they're still basically within a mile of the cemetery? Even I, burdened with an easily exhausted flesh body with shitty joints could have gotten farther than that.

Anyway, Belph needs a fresh human heart for his spell so it's pretty handy of the sheriff to die! That way none of the mains need to do the morally objectionable thing of murdering someone.

Dean senses a sudden drop in temperature. "Winnie the Pooh, right now!"

WHAT THE FUUUUCK??

Hold on. I'm watching this at 1.2x speed. Let me rewatch it at 1x.

Okay he says "we need to move, right now."  My apologies to Mr. Pooh for thinking you could ever be a part of this.

[Graphic: Winnie the Pooh chipper as anything. "I CRAVE THE BLEAK ABIDING COMFORT OF DEATH AND HUNNY."]

At the same time, Sam and Castiel are walking the two survivors through town. The little girl pauses at a badly placed fish pond because she sees a woman in it. Is it Bloody Mary? What's she doing in a pond? Seriously though putting a pond right on the street corner is just asking for trouble even without spectral shenannigans. How many people have driven over the curb and right into that thing?

Okay I gotta stop getting hung up on landscaping issues. Even if they are HIGHLY IRRESPONSIBLE AND NONSENSICAL.

Dean is attacked by the Woman in White. Ass Clown goes after Sam and the others, and is soon joined by... a tall ghost and... Lizzie Borden? Sam accidentally shoots Cas full of rock salt when Lizzie vanishes, which is pretty funny although move ya pretty self out of the way, Cas. When she pops up behind him, she tries to choke him with the ax handle. It reminds me of that lesser known poem about Miss Borden.

Lizzie Borden had an ax Gave her mother 40 whacks Tried to choke the angel Cas 'Cause axing would've been too fast

In the ensuing fisticuffs, everyone has time to throw punches while Belph performs the spell. All he does is put the heart on a little pile of salt and chant some Latin. Is like the thing Ruby 1.0 did with that poor virgin girl's heart a million years ago?

Oh sweet Jeebus the sight of these ghosts chasing everyone on foot is... bad and funny. Y'all are ghosts! You can just blip in and out of wherever you want to go! One of the only upsides to being dead has got to be not having to do cardio anymore and here you are running the hundred yard dash like it's 6th grade PE class. They come screeching to a halt where the spell has created an invisible boundary. This might be worse than Hell.

[Graphic: Parisian street mimes trying to escape an invisible box]

But wait... Why wasn't Belphegor affected by this spell? Did he write in an exception clause? Or is it only for ghosts and not demons?

The Good Guys plus Belph bring the mom and daughter to the high school down the road where all the evacuees are sheltering. With no sheriff to coordinate things, isn't it all just gonna... fall to pieces now? How are they gonna convince everyone to stay away from their homes? What if someone needs their prescriptions? ("Oh no my Herpexia!") They can't get rid of the ghosts as long as Hell isn't in business anymore, right? This is a mess. Dean seems to know it.

Dang why are Castiel and Dean on such icy terms? Why do I not remember last season?

Now that they have a five second breather before the shit hits the fan, Dean wants to see Sam's godly bullet wound. It looks a little crusty but not too bad except... "There's no exit wound," Dean notes. He gives it a swipe with some alcohol which will surely kill whatever supernatural E. coli is in there.

"So when Chuck said this was the end I guess this is what he meant," Sam says. Yes being trapped in a high school with my neighbors seems like end times to me, too. Tonally, things seemed a lot more dire in All Hell Breaks Loose 2.

Dean's feeling a bit embittered about discovering they didn't have as much free will as they'd thought, that everything was part of Chuck's personal lab experiment. "What did it all mean?" he wonders. "It meant a lot," Sam says. "We still saved people."

But what even are people, man? I'm going to have an existential crisis and I can't drink as much as Dean because I have that "Asian flush" gene thing. One drink and I turn super red and hot and queasy and then I pass out.

Sam thinks God has fucked off to who knows where because he hasn't seen the promos for episode 2 yet. "He gets bored and starts another story." Ah yes like me and my WiPs. Relatable. Overall, Sam is feeling much more optimistic. "Once we win this, God is gone... and it's just us. We're free."

Dean catches his optimism cooties. "I like those odds," he says of fighting billions of evil souls. You know what that means? We got work to do. Quick intercut of Baby Winchesters with Middle-Aged Winchesters saying the same thing and closing the trunk of the Impala.

[Graphic: Impala with the solar system again. This time the Impala is pulling ahead. "ONE MORE TIME AROUND, SONS O' BITCHES"]

So there we are at the first episode of the final season. Reblog or reply with what you thought of the episode and thanks for reading!

One final note:

You can read more about my writing and general life situation and GoFundMe here: https://tippitv.tumblr.com/post/188224749207/supernatural-final-season-recaps-and-assorted

If you enjoyed the recap and are able, please visit my virtual tip jar: paypal.me/TippiBlevins or https://ko-fi.com/A4017DA

Henry Hound and I could use the financial help!

See you next week.

[unholyhelbig]

It’s an Errand, Kid

[A/N: It’s been a hot minute since I’ve actually written Junksen, and no, I don’t really know what this is... but it’s something.] 

READ IT ON AO3 HERE 

Aubrey’s father explained to her at a young age that the reason all the floors in the house were marble, had everything to do with the fact that blood didn’t stain as easily, and not for the lavish home décor magazine that did three pieces on the lavish architecture that it possessed.

The marble was cold and mostly a phantom white. But then there were specks of gray that Aubrey used to maneuver onto with socked feet like the stark color would burn her toes if she were to slip off. But then something much redder than imaginary lava would spill across the tile and her game didn’t’ seem so fun anymore. But her father was right- it was easy to scrub and never left a pink residue that was sure to stick against linoleum.

“Please close the door.”

Aubrey let the large slab of wood softly shut behind her as the metallic scent coated every inch of her lungs like a thick casing. The soapy water that was spilled against the puddle of crimson diluted it to the point of bubbly acid burning.

The girl scrubbing the mess with a bristled brush glanced up from her work. Her hair was thrown into a messy bun atop her head and a slight brine of sweat beaded against exposed skin. The black of her t-shirt covered the blood that had soaked so easily into the fabric, speckles against white cheeks. Her eyes were a kind chocolate despite the task at hand. A tattoo stretched across her forearm in the shape of a stretching crow and her perfect features acknowledged Aubrey’s presence.

“I thought my father wasn’t supposed to bring work home anymore.”

“He didn’t,” She responded, “your brother did, apparently didn’t get the memo.”

Aubrey hummed in response and stared at the girl. Emily Junk was the closest thing the Posen family had to an errand girl, or maybe in an intern if she were keen enough to throw a professional term at it. She had been working for Victor Posen for almost a year at this point and grew past her childlike wonder into a strong young woman not afraid to scrub blood from the floor while someone, Chloe, no doubt, disposed of the body along with the rug that was mysteriously missing.

Aubrey felt the edge of exhaustion creeping into her bones, a slowly setting sun casting a demon-like glow against Emily’s soft expression. She had learned to not ask questions about her families after school activities long ago, pouring herself into her work and attending the lavish parties that they threw when the doors to their home were opened for councilmen and high-ranking members of society. She  

“What?” Emily asked. Aubrey blinked, not realizing that she was staring.

“Nothing, you’ve just got-“The older girl knelt down, not letting her knees hit the tile like it was molten soup from her childhood. Instead, she leaned forward just a tad and used her thumb to wipe a few specks of blood from Emily’s cheek. It smeared into the blush that crept against her neck. “A little something right there.”

“Oh, uh, thanks.”

The lawyer nodded before rising to her feet to leave Emily to her chore. Her heart was in her throat and stretching down to her fingertips from more than the rushed haste to climb the stairs to her room. Careful not to track any color that had spread to her boots. She listened, not daring to take a breath until she heard the methodic scrubbing of a brush against marble floors.

That night at dinner, no one spoke of the blood that had been spilled earlier. A table with an equally delicate cloth was covered in large bowls filled with her mother’s cooking. She spooned a scoop of green beans onto her plate and passed it towards Jaxon, who always sat to her father’s left, ready to kiss the diamond on his hand.  

Chloe shoved a forkful of chicken into her mouth, chewing slowly, no doubt working up an appetite from earlier activities. Beca tore open a roll with her fingers and slathered a helping of butter onto the pastry. Emily sat, sandwiched in the middle as she pushed her mashed potatoes around her plate until it covered the subtle pink flowers completely. Everyone else chatted evenly about their days, about the traffic, and that they had decided on a rezoning policy for the docks.

“Emily,” Victor spoke evenly, his eyes over the rim of his champagne glass. “Tomorrow I need you to pick up a package on Grand. No earlier or later than half-past seven. Take Beca with you.”

She swallowed the food in her mouth and nodded in acknowledgment. Beca raised a brow at the interaction, or mainly the part where she had to wake up before the sun decided to rear its head. None of them were in a position to question the action but she frowned for a moment, regardless.

“I can go with her,” Aubrey said, breaking the silence in the room. “I mean, my office is a few blocks away and I can take care of myself better than Beca.”

“I resent that statement,” She said lazily, moving her arm over the back of the chair. “I can dismember a man with my index finger.”

“And I can do so with my pinkie, but that’s not my point.” She adjusted her stare to her fathers curious one. “It’s pointless to send her to the drop zone when she works across town. A waste really.”

He wrinkled his nose, possibly the only trait that Aubrey inherited from him, as he thought about it. Her office was a few blocks off and Emily was new enough that she hadn’t had the pleasure of much one on one time with Aubrey. She was always at Victor's side, rushing to make his favorite malt- taking out a man with the pearl edged pistol that was always in a holster against her hip. An intern. An errand boy.

“Fine,” he yielded, “I don’t care who goes as long as I get what I want.”

That was the endgame and Aubrey knew that much about her father. He had taught her enough to take care of herself and anyone else who decided to try something against them. It had never been about safety to him and that worked in her favor in this case. Emily lifted both eyebrows before focusing her attention back on the meal in front of her, Aubrey suddenly finding her appetite again.

It was early the next morning when they set off. Emily was leaning against the concrete steps of the Posen household with her hands in the pockets of her peacoat. Her breath was steaming in front of her and a cigarette hung from her lips, the tip burning an angry red. Her nose raw from the cold. The city was barely starting to stir, and Aubrey could only hear her blood rush past her ears.

They fell into an even pace, “Do you even know what he has you getting?”

“It’s not my job to ask questions. Besides, the way I figure it, I’m better off not knowing.”

Aubrey scoffed, that was lesson number two about living in the Posen household. The less you know the less you can give up in a pain-filled torture session. Aubrey had never been subject to one herself, but there was always less to give up if she didn’t have the information in the first place.

“Right… what got you into this anyway? If you don’t mind me asking.”

“Into getting the package. Or the highest-ranking crime family in the city?”

“The latter,” She was meant with a rough swallow and silence. “When I was sixteen, Chloe came over for Christmas dinner. Her parents were out of town and we were naive enough to believe that the Holiday’s were off-limits, you know?”

Emily glanced over at her with curiosity.

“We were in the middle of our meal when bullets started to crash through the windows and we all huddled under the table. It probably lasted for less than a minute, but afterwards, we all busted out laughing- I swear, Chloe thought we were actually insane. But later that year my father initiated her- protected her, and suddenly she was more than a friend.”

“She was family.”

“Exactly, even though it was a fucked-up family that had to pull glass out of the Christmas ham before they actually ate it. It was family.”

There was another lull of silence and Aubrey wondered what it was like. She grew up wanting for nothing, in a home that hid rolled up thousands in the shower rods, but nonetheless, it was a home. A home where there was always food on the table and cars in the driveways, and a makeshift community that she could call her own. Only people who were truly lost ended up at Sunday dinners, and for that matter, running errands for her father.

Emily nudged her shoulder and gave her a dazzling smile that changed the mood completely. “You’ve got a lot going on in that head of yours, don’t you?”

“That obvious huh?”

“A little.” She shrugged “I mean, you were born into all of this and you decided to lock away the ammo and fight the city in a different way. Figured you need quite a brain to go to law school. To open up your own practice.”

Aubrey had another name under hers on the sign that hung next to that of a small café and a sub shop. But it was close enough to her own and she had gotten it all by herself. Not through thinly veiled threats or otherwise. She was the black sheep of the family- Emily’s words made her chest swell. They were at the building before she could respond.

Two men stood not in the threshold, but in the alleyway. It was laden with rancid trash from the sticky dumpster to their right. Tobacco leaked from cracked lips. Aubrey noted the ink that was against exposed skin- a fox. Its oranges were vibrant and paws dipped in charcoal. Her own marking burned under her jacket like it had been retraced in venom.

“I suppose both our bosses have enough sense to not send us alone.” The first man spoke. He was shorter than his counterpart but carried himself well. “Do you have the money?”

Emily nodded and pulled a small envelope that had some bulk to it from her pocket. It looked golden under the early morning light. The taller of the two matched her package with one equal in size but flatter in stature. The trade was seamless despite the weight of the handgun against the back of her jeans. Her fingers twitched but she didn’t reach for it.

An errand for an errand boy.

The two of them turned away, but only after the men did first, stepping back out onto the sidewalk, into the real world that was starting to stir from its slumber. The street lamps flicked off and the sound of distant engines buzzed against their eardrums. Emily had pushed the package in place of the money.

“Those were Wilson boys,” Aubrey confirmed what both were thinking. “I wonder what Victor needed from them.”

“I’m not sure, but it’s not my place to ask.” Emily was quick to answer. “Whatever he wants to do… whatever he’s done. I’m not privy to.”

“And that doesn’t bother you at all? That you don’t know what you’re doing for him?”

Emily stuttered in her steps, her fingers tracing the collar of her jacket just enough to smooth out an edge that was already smooth. “Do you, Aubrey?”

[saniika]

Rating: E Major Archive Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Pairing(s) if any: Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov,Christophe Giacometti/Katsuki Yuuri Summary: A driver takes care of precious cargo with special needs. Based on the short O negative, horror shot. 

Beta by @narcissuspseudonarcissus (so sweet to take upon the challenge!)

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14561289 

On twitter: https://twitter.com/SaniikaKatamari/status/993228799461425152

Under the cut:

The pull of the web comes suddenly, violating Yuuri’s consciousness as he sits behind the steering wheel. His strong instinct to clutch on the fine leather keeps him present in reality. He knows he must keep the thread of action going.

If he doesn’t steer, the car will go off the road or hit the truck coming from the opposite direction. His precious cargo won’t survive.

If he doesn’t finish the journey to the closest city and check in the motel, he won’t be able to turn on the machine.

His precious cargo won’t survive.

No matter what, Yuuri must continue; for Victor depends on him with his own life. There aren’t many second chances given to Yuuri. One simple slip up can end it all. Yuuri knows he’s a nobody who just happened to get into Victor’s way. Yuuri knows Victor can as easily pick someone else to fill his role. Yuuri is dispensable and merely a lowly servant. The prey, which has the privilege to serve the hunter. Victor let’s Yuuri worship him. And how dearly he miscalculated once more.

They stayed too long in their past location and Victor felt so good he egged Yuuri on to slack off. And now both of them are paying the price.

“Do you need to rest?”

Yuuri hears the ringing in his ears, his sister’s voice as if from behind the glass door. The shimmering street lights resemble the light leaking through the kitchen lamp falling through the frosted glass. Yuuri used to focus on it during his feverish hallucinations when he was a child.

“Do you need to rest?”

His mother is calling him, the stiff neck and it’s spasms are remarkably resembling her fingers brushing over his nape. The call is alluring, promises the sweetest nothings, the kindest release Yuuri’s body is longing so much for the past year. When the cold of his body starts to feel warm, he knows he’s slipping.

Yuuri blinks a few times, the ringing in his ears growing louder. Unpleasant like the artificial bell announcing last chance to step out of a bus, more persuasive than siren of an ambulance car. He hears the passing cars honking, the rain drumming on his windshield and his trembling hand finds a pocket knife.

The slice is quick and the sharp pain bring him into alertness, numbing everything else on a command. Everything is a bit clearer now, Yuuri feels almost completely conscious. The ever present anxiety makes him check on Victor on the backseat. The short glance in the rearview mirror is not enough. Yuuri knows he should look at the road for safety, but the urge is stronger. He needs to check and so he turns, watching over Victor’s body on the cheap upholstered leather seat.  

Victor is sleeping, or rather unconscious. The lack of Yuuri’s care sent him into that strange kind of coma. His body doesn’t move, he doesn’t breathe and no heart beats in his chest. Yuuri remembers the first time he witnessed such state. He barely managed to hook up Victor to the machine, sobbing and choking on tears all the time, missing his vein several times. It took a week for Victor to calm him down after that.

Yuuri knows what to do now. He learned, trained and made all possible efforts to prepare for every unexpected situation. For every plan he had a backup plan. Yet his transgression allowed just that - compromising Victor. Yuuri once more forgot he was to serve and not to try to be Victor’s equal. Yuuri should have known better. That bypasses all his rational thinking and sends Yuuri into a mad rush.

They reach the city on time, Yuuri books a room and a minute later he’s inside. Victor is carefully put on the marriage bed. Yuuri goes into shock noticing his wristwatch has stopped and it makes him miss the chance to check the correct time on the hotel clock on the night table. From that moment it’s just pure adrenalin that makes him turn on the pump with learned, efficient moves. His own heartbeat doesn’t settle down until his own blood flows through the mask into Victor’s mouth. Just when Yuuri sees Victor’s chest rise again, he sinks into the chair in relief.

Victor will live. Victor will stay undead. Whichever applied.

He hears his own heartbeat growing louder and instead of his family offering rest he hears Victor’s voice.

“Yuuri!” The whisper against his ear is sweet, he’s pulled into a dance. “Come dance with me, just like the first time. Please! Just tonight.”

“Victor, no… I should go find someone, you really need it. It’s been two days now. I can’t allow myself-” Yuuri resists the bait, not wanting to leave the table in the ballroom, no matter how dashing Victor is in his tuxedo. He’s cut off with disregard and he hits Victor’s chest with a huff.

“Yu-uri! You’re no fun! I see how tired you are lately… surprise me once more? You need good things in your life every now and then.” A palm rests on Yuuri’s small back and the small blush on Victor’s cheeks tilts him over the doubtful edge. He’s led to the dance floor and relives once more how they met.

It was a glorious night, gregarious, beautiful Victor in his arms, dipping in his embrace and so alive. Yuuri was a goner before they even joined hands. A kiss was enough to charm Yuuri and all that Victor whispered to him on the terrace, honest explanation and Victor’s audacious plea. And it made sense that Yuuri, a nobody, an aimless young man failing in his career in a company, was of trivial importance. What mattered that Victor, the member of the elusive rival company asked Yuuri to help him escape, to free Victor. What else could Yuuri have said than yes. What did it matter that Yuuri would pay with is own lifeforce to keep Victor in this world and that they would forever be on the run? Only one thing Yuuri did regret.

He would not live forever and eventually Victor would have to find a replacement if he wants to live his current lifestyle. And even so, Yuuri did notice how pale Victor grew after the first month and realized he won’t be able to cater to Victor’s needs in full. During his whole remaining life, Yuuri would keep Victor. He would never be able to share a dazzling fulfilling life with Victor as his equal. Because an ancient vampire would not keep a pet forever.

“Yuuri!”

The spare twin bell alarm clock rips him from the momentary dream. The waking up is painful as always, the pain felt a lot more once his body allowed himself to relax a little. He turns of the machine and pulls out the IV, all the time feeling Victor’s eyes lingering heavy on his shoulders.

Victor is awake, he’s safe now. It’s fine.

***

They sit in a bathtub, which is too small for them both. Yet Victor insisted wordlessly and he made Yuuri climb in with him. They never speak after a transfusion. Yet today Yuuri knows Victor’s silence is laced by guilt. And it make Yuuri even more angry, more desperate about his own uselessness.

Yuuri didn’t listen to the voice of reason and let Victor be foolish. Instead of getting Victor a blood supply, he slipped into the role Victor always hungers for him to take. Yuuri disregarded his servant status and danced the night away as a lover in Victor’s embrace.

It’s more than simple anxiety and overstepping the boundaries of a caste system. Every slip up causes Victor to get weaker and he finds it harder to function. Victor’s powers and abilities are strong but the demands to keep him functional are all the more greater. It’s somewhat like a life of a diabetic, always having on mind when and how to eat, how to rest and carefully taking his medication. Yet Victor lives off blood and it’s more delicate than that.

Yuuri answering Victor’s question on the terrace a year ago meant that he signed off his own expiry date. From that moment on Yuuri lived to keep Victor alive. Every minute of his day was scheduled and he needed to keep up a perfect harmonogram. No matter how Victor whined or frowned. No matter how boring Victor called him or how much he teased him that Yuuri started to resemble his mentor Yakov - despite all that Yuuri had to take charge an all these necessary steps to keep them going.

Yuuri lets Victor cradle him in his embrace. Victor peels off the bandaid and it tugs unpleasantly on Yuuri’s skin, ripping of some hair despite Victor’s utmost care. A soft reverent kiss makes it better. It makes Victor think it’s better and anything like that is enough for Yuuri to handle it.

Victor’s skin is not as pale but there is a bluish tint on his lips as he presses them urgently on Yuuri’s biceps and collarbone. Yuuri doesn’t miss these details and yet he was blind to them when Victor made him dance instead of listening to the call of duty. That thought follows Yuuri from the ballroom to this bathtub and not even the conscious presence of Victor makes it forgivable. His chest tightens and he can’t breathe. Victor as always knows and rushes to kiss the pain away, stealing every gasps from Yuuri’s lips, rubbing his face onto Yuuri’s to make him feel he’s there and fine.

It takes a while, but the desperation of Victor finally makes Yuuri cave and he succumbs to his embrace, clinging to Victor’s form. After a while Yuuri starts to slip into the routine, putting on the comforting mantle of servant’s role. He dries Victor’s hair with care and cuts his nails. He makes use of all the time he has left before he has to head out for a new supply.

In light of their recent mishap Victor wants to pamper Yuuri and offers to brush his hair.

“May I? Let me.” Yuuri doesn’t understand why Victor insists on doing this for him. Yuuri doesn’t think himself attractive and has a hard time believing Victor’s compliments. But it doesn’t escape him when Victor’s eyes want to swallow him everytime he leaves the house.

Victor is jealous. He doesn’t like to share Yuuri with anyone even if it’s their prey. Therefore Yuuri allows Victor this courtesy and enjoys as he massages gel into his tresses. But today when Victor helps him put on a jacket as well, Yuuri knows it’s more serious than usual. In such moments Yuuri almost believes Victor really cannot bear to share him with the outside world, that he’s more than a simple servant.

A childish sense of satisfaction brushes a blush into his cheers and the more he realizes he should not be happy over that, he can’t help but avert the gaze. Victor kisses his knuckles goodbye and Yuuri is swallowed by the dark winter’s evening outside the motel room.

***

A dog barks in front of the parking lot and Yuuri stops for a moment watching it. He remembers Vicchan back home in Japan. He thinks on the lack of sadness when his mother phones him about his death. Back then Yuuri didn’t even feel guilty, consumed by his work and the deals he needed to close so badly. Watching the soft curly fur on the poodle, makes Yuuri feel Vicchan under his fingertips. The sensation is so strong that the people barging from a nearby liquor store startle Yuuri and he barely manages to hide the syringe with sedatives behind himself.

He adjusts his best cloak and walks to the high end bar at the nearby Hilton. The greeter at the gate welcoming him with proper respect and Yuuri passes the concierge with practiced poise. The looks don’t escape him. Victor made sure to get him the best suit and perfect his look with the right accessories. Yuuri aims for the bar and the swing in his step let’s everybody know that Yuuri is a confident hunter tonight.

When he hops on the barstool, he’s so used to the whole procedure that his hands don’t even feel clammy anymore. Quick glance to the side as he orders a drink and he spots his tonight’s target. The man immediately leaves his table and is heading to Yuuri. A heartbeat later and a heavy french accented invitation tickles the back of his hand in the man’s grasp.

“Enchanté. Looking for some fun tonight?”

The fine moustache above the man’s lips shimmers lightly in the muted bar light. The lipgloss tells Yuuri the man likes to take care of himself. He would be a good choice for Victor’s taste. Yuuri lowers his eyelids and let’s the man with tastefully dyed hair caress the inside of his palm with a finger.

“That depends…” Yuuri tries hard to not let the disgust seep into his tone. It’s not that he finds the man displeasing, quite the contrary.

Way back he would be really flattered to have a conversation with such a dashing specimen. He would probably stutter, ruin the whole flirt occasion and jerk alone deep in the night swallowing his own cries and regret into a hotel pillow. It’s more the fact that he’s presented with his own regretful past and impossible future at the side of this beautiful man. Both in a combination that makes Yuuri swallow through the clump in his throat. The man, passing him a business card in a swift motion, mistakes it for eagerness. He chuckles and his eyes glint as the chandelier above their heads.

“Tonight is on the house, chérie.” A quick swipe of his magically conjured card and Yuuri’s drink is paid for, his bill closed and both ready to leave for the second part of the bar flirt. A quick glance at the card makes Yuuri raise his eyebrows elegantly in surprise. The text on shick piece of paper explains everything.

Christophe Giacometti

The Ultimate Swiss Experience

“Oh.” Yuuri manages to breathe out. It’s easier and more convenient that he thought. It will improve his time schedule greatly. And by the looks of it Chris who licks his lower lips impatiently is more than eager to accompany Yuuri. The finger on Yuuri’s palm writhes suggestively as a soft hairy caterpillar. Chris leans into Yuuri wafting in toffee and pine fragrance and whispers over Yuuri’s earlobe.

“Where you’ll lead I’ll follow.”

Yuuri lays a hand on Chris’ thigh and nods slowly.

“Splendid. Let’s go.”

***

If Chris finds it odd that Yuuri didn’t bring his own car or that their destination is a cheap motel, he doesn’t let it on. The Swiss is funny and entertains Yuuri throughout the whole ride. When he starts to ask questions and Yuuri can’t shake the answers playfully anymore, Yuuri is pushed to harsher measures.

As the wait for the green on the crossroads and another question as a bothersome fly buzzes around Yuuri, he reaches to Chris’s crotch and envelopes his goods in a firm grasp.

“Merde!” Chris jolts, holding onto the steering wheel for dear life and inhales deeply. Yuuri eyeing him from his own seat in shadow measures him predatorially and the command comes easy from his mouth.

“Less talking and faster driving.” He says and continues to massage Chris’ quickly awakening cock through his dress pants. Chris only manages to nod and the wheels of his ferrari ride on smoke when they reach the motel. Yuuri knows Victor is waiting for Yuuri’s return, so he must have heard the screeching wheels of the car in front of their room.

Yuuri makes it inside faster with Chris chasing for his form and suddenly it’s too much for him. He can’t maintain the seductive persona anymore and Chris smiles encouragingly, shedding of his red velvet jacket to the floor. He approaches Yuuri and sucks himself on Yuuri’s mouth like a hungry leech. Yuuri lets him, barely responding to his advances and glances over Chris’ shoulder to the far end of the room.

Victor stands in the bathroom door, dressed only in underwear and his beautiful face is twisted. He’s barely able to control himself and Yuuri is sure it’s not just the hunger that makes him look so pale. Unconsciously Yuuri tilts his head to give Chris a better access and watches as Victor approaches the pair. When the right moment comes Yuuri detaches from Chris and sees the man think that Yuuri is in for a rough sex play. Oh how wrong the Swiss is, so much he can't even fathom.

Then it’s just a synchronized combination of Victor’s firm grasp silencing Chris’ mouth and Yuuri’s quick administration of sedatives. Chris disappears in the bathroom to Victor’s bidding.

Yuuri goes outside. He knows Victor doesn’t like it when Yuuri hears him feed.

“I feel like an animal in my behaviour and I don’t want you to see me like that.” It didn’t matter that Yuuri assured Victor he doesn’t mind. It was most likely vanity and simply wanting to look the best in Yuuri’s eyes. Yuuri would allow this to Victor as many of his other peculiarities.

When the time is right, Yuuri gathers the cleaning supplies from the trunk of their car and comes back inside.

The light from the bathroom is shrill in contrast to the cheap light bulb emitting low glow in the motel room. It cuts the space like exclamation mark, Yuuri almost waits for the ping announcing the shining microwave is done with warming up the meal. Is it safe to enter now? Is Victor composed? He could have called and check. But rational thinking and remnants of the thrilling encounter with Chris still keep Yuuri in an adrenaline rush. He presses the door ajar approaching the scene like a fly towards the insect trap lamp.

Yuuri should be but is never ready to witness the slaughter scene. The small bathroom is streaked from top to bottom in sprays of blood. It’s red, russet and dark, all kinds of shades you could imagine. It’s starting to dry quickly. What once was Chris lays in the bathtub discarded as an empty juice packet.

Victor sits in the corner beside the tub and is gasping for air, the rush of the feeding sending shivers though his body still. He is not composed but Yuuri can’t look away. In a strange mix of fascination and terror he comes closer and sinks to the tiled floor.

Victor locks him in place and hesitantly closes the distance between them. His mouth is caked with thick layers of blood so dark it resembles melted asphalt.

“Yuuri.”

The whisper is so quiet and Yuuri suddenly knows. He knows he’s not just a mere servant. He knows that Victor is anxious and worried that Yuuri will leave him. He still remembers how Victor cried, when he proposed to end it half a year ago in yet another long forgotten hotel room. Victor needs Yuuri and Yuuri can’t leave him for longer than a few hours.

It comes easy to Yuuri to give in once more. The realization washes away the guilt over another murder and it swells his chest warm with relief. He is needed, earned for and no one else will do. He is Victor’s and Victor is his.

He falls into a trance, the metallic taste on his tongue as they kiss calls something primal from inside him. It’s iron, saliva and more. Sickly he knows he likes such flavored kisses with Victor the best. His own blood fills his cock and Victor is on top of him in a heartbeat. No foreplay is needed, the desperation pushes their body into ready state immediately.

Yuuri is pressed to the ground all in his fine suit, Victor caring only about ripping his pants of as soon as possible. There is no regret, no matter how carefully he chosen the fabrics for Yuuri and no matter how long it took for him to convince Yuuri to go into a tailor shop.

Yuuri’s buttocks land on the cold tiles as he’s made bare but it lasts only a short moment, because Victor lifts his legs bending him in half. His greedy fingers find Yuuri’s buttplug and pull it out roughly. Yuuri wore it the whole night, preparing himself before the outing in case things would get further with his possible target. He can’t even send a quick prayer to heavens for this, he’s so lost to the intensifying hunger in Victor’s eyes.

Yuuri is penetrated with delightful ease and throughout the whole act his chest leaks over with happiness. Despite Victor essentially needing just the blood to survive, he still is hungry and yearning for Yuuri. For his body and touch. Only Yuuri will do and therefore Yuuri braces himself just an inch more, tilts his arse a little better to give Victor the desired access. It works, Victors sinks further inside and yet he can manage only shallow quick thrusts. As if he didn’t want to leave Yuuri’s heat for longer than he has to.

It’s always that insatiable race after blood, pleasure or closeness. Each time one is satisfied, the other screams for attention. Yuuri is a candle in Victor’s hands, pliant and melting. He hopes he shines enough for Victor to enjoy him and that he won’t spend himself just yet like a flame in wind.

Their embrace is beautiful and desperate. It hurts to be pierced and Yuuri traps Victor in his strong hands so firmly, he’s sure Victor will have bruises the following day. Yet they ride out the cut between burning pain and pleasure, and it’s over sooner than it begun.

“Yuuri. Yuuri.” Victor whispers as his lifts himself off Yuuri but stays inside of him still. Yuuri tastes and smells the iron, feels the sticky blood on Victor’s skin, but all he can focus on are the sated blue eyes having their whole attention on Yuuri.

They stay close until Yuuri catches breath and they are back to the reality. Yuuri needing to wash the scene and disposing of the body.

It’s a challenging task and it takes Yuuri a while. He dismisses Victor’s silent offer to help. He’s a servant and needs to serve Victor once more. Spraying the walls with shower he finds it strangely comforting to see the blood being washed away. He puts the body into ferrari and drives it to a unguarded dumpster over the cliff. As the car disappears into the darkness he imagines it’s himself being buried. Yuuri took care of such funerals many many times.

It helps him to become calm again and collect his thoughts. When he’s back at the motel he’s almost fine again. The last few days didn’t let him sleep much, the strain of giving Victor his own blood and dealing with a target took its toll on Yuuri. All traces are covered, everything taken care of. So all should be fine. He’s the last to leave the motel and sits inside the car with Victor waiting on the backseat for him. Yuuri stays motionless in the seat and clutching onto the steering wheel lost in thought. Sometimes he doesn’t even feel real. It lasts longer than it’s appropriate he realizes, because Victor’s steady voice calls for his attention.

“Is everything ok?”

Yuuri’s and Victor’s eyes meet it the rearview mirror and he sees Victor for what he is. Victor is wary, tired and scared. He is worried for Yuuri’s happiness and hungry to keep him close. The slightest discomfort of Yuuri seems to pain Victor. Sometimes Yuuri wonders who observes the other the best. He reaches behind himself and sees Victor kiss the ring on Yuuri’s hand in the rearview mirror. When Yuuri leaves his hand in his grasp with open palm, Victor lays his own hand in it and Yuuri pulls it to his lips in return.

Victor’s shoulders relax in understanding. He leans forward and steals a long kiss from Yuuri until it’s time to drive away.

[saikostories]

MHA - Rhythm of the War Drum pt2

It didn’t matter how many times All Might had visited Tartarus over the years, he’d never gotten used to the place. The maximum security prison sat like a black monolith on a desolate volcanic island off the coast of mainland Japan. The only thing that connected it to the rest of civilization was a bridge guarded on both sides by security guards and high-powered weapons. It was where they locked away the worst of the worst criminals. Once sentenced to Tartarus, those who went inside were never seen again.

Even though All Might had always visited as an agent of Justice, he was not immune to the prison’s oppressive presence. As soon as the gates closed behind him it felt like he was being swallowed into a world completely separate from everything outside Tartarus’s concrete walls. Whoever had designed Tartarus had done an impressive job. Everything about the prison was meant to intimidate, oppress, and rob those incarcerated of hope. To date, no one had ever escaped. It was the ultimate Final Stop on a criminal’s roadmap of Villainy.

But All Might was not there that day to visit a convicted criminal. He was there to see his former student, Izuku Midoriya.

It had felt almost surreal signing his name in the log book of the prison with Midoriya’s name listed in the “inmate” column. Never in a million years would All Might have ever thought his protégé would one day become a guest of Tartarus’s hospitality. In the wake of the train station attack, though, that was the only place considered secure enough to hold the boy until they could figure out what to do with him. The boy was ungodly powerful. He’d proven himself a formidable force not to just heroes in general, but to All Might himself as well. All Might had always held Midoriya in high regards, but after trading blows with him that night he saw without a doubt why the League had targeted Midoriya. If it hadn’t been for Aizawa and his quirk All Might wasn’t sure how that evening would have shaken out.

He had no idea what the League of Villains had done to his former student. But it had to have been thorough to turn him into such a monster.

All Might remembered very little of what happened after he and Aizawa subdued Midoriya. The arrival of police, emergency response teams, and other pro heroes was a complete blur. It had only been when his old friend Naomasa Tsukauchi appeared beside him in the middle of that demolished street that All Might was able to tear his attention away from Midoriya and focus on anything else. They had moved quickly from there: Tsukauchi spiriting him, Aizawa, and Midoriya away into a waiting police van. Almost as soon as the doors had closed behind them All Might finally lost his grip on his remaining store of One For All and withered into his scarecrow-like form. That hadn’t caused him to loosen his hold on his unconscious student, though. If anything, All Might’s grip on Midoriya became even tighter. He’d held the boy the entire way to Tartarus.

It was only when they arrived at the prison gates that All Might finally allowed Midoriya to be taken away from him. He didn’t know exactly where they were taking the boy, but he’d been assured they were going to make sure he couldn’t hurt himself or anyone else. Aizawa had gone with the prison staff and Midoriya. Given his quirk-erasing ability, he was one of the best qualified to remain with Midoriya in case the boy woke up and became violent again.

That had been several hours ago. Calls had to be made, official statements given, specialists called in for help. Those things were all routine for a hero in the aftermath of such a battle. All Might knew the drill and had gone through all of it as if on autopilot. He felt as if he were going through the motions in a daze. All he could think about was Midoriya and the incredible way in which the boy had been returned to them. Everything else beyond that was just background noise. All Might vaguely remembered Tsukauchi urging him to seek medical attention for his injuries at one point, but All Might had only waved his concerns away. There were more important things to think about right now than himself.

All Might currently navigated the inner bowels of Tartarus with Tsukauchi and Principle Nezu by his sides. One of the first calls All Might had made after handing Midoriya off to Tartarus’s staff was to call the school to tell them about their resurrected student’s return. Principle Nezu, as expected, had dropped everything to rush to the prison. For those that didn’t know UA’s principle he was nothing if not dedicated to his students and extremely possessive of them. All Might could only guess what kind of press nightmare Midoriya’s return would mean for the school once more of the dust settled. It made sense Nezu would want to get ahead of everything now.

Finally, after hours of paperwork, statements, and bureaucratic red-tape, they’d been given the go-ahead by prison staff to see Midoriya as a preliminary interrogation with Tsukauchi there to act as an official representative of law enforcement.

“Thank you again for inviting me to this interrogation,” Nezu said to Tsukauchi as they navigated the empty white hallways of the prison. “I know this is a very… unique situation. As principle of UA high school I feel it is my duty to be here to see what happens next for our student.”

Tsukauchi nodded. “We currently have the media in the dark on the details of the attack. All they know right now is that the League was responsible and that All Might was on the scene. Details about who exactly All Might was fighting are being kept quiet for the moment.”

“What about the patrol students?” All Might asked as they walked. “Did the press get their hands on them yet?”

Tsukauchi shook his head. “No. We managed to place police officers on them as soon as support forces arrived on scene. Those that were injured were taken to the hospital. Initial reports are giving the injured good chances of recovery. Midnight was still in surgery the last time I got an update – broken ribs, internal bleeding, and a ruptured spleen, but she should make it out okay. From what Aizawa said, that was all from just one punch from Midoriya. Endeavor’s son came out with a broken nose and jaw. Also has a pretty bad concussion, but he should make a full recovery. Worst seems to be the second student patrol member, Bakugo. All the fingers on his right hand were crushed. Wrist and forearm suffered multiple compound spiral fractures. He’s going to have a long recovery and rehabilitation ahead of him before he’s able to use that hand again… The other students that weren’t injured were immediately taken to the closest police station for debriefing. No reporters were able to talk to them and we’ve placed the students under temporary gag orders. Assuming there are no leaks, the media shouldn’t get any details about the attack from them. As of right now, the general public doesn’t know that Midoriya is still alive or that he is involved with the League.”

“Good,” Nezu nodded. He was visibly hurrying to keep pace with All Might and Tsukauchi’s strides. “Obviously a number of things still lay ahead of us with regard to Midoriya. But for the moment no one is the wiser about his involvement with the League, which I would like to maintain for as long as possible. I would hate to see one of our students’ future as a hero jeopardized by being cast as some kind of coconspirator with the League of Villains. Until more is known about the details of Midoriya’s captivity it would be best if his return is kept quiet.”

Tsukauchi released a tired sigh. “The prison currently has Midoriya in a specialty holding cell on the deepest level of the prison. It has the highest security and is virtually impregnable – both from inside or outside the cell. No risks are being taken, especially since Shigaraki threatened to come back for Midoriya and he has that warp-gate specialist, Kurogiri, with him.”

All Might’s pace unconsciously quickened, his blood running hot. “They are not getting Midoriya back. I will die before I let that happen.”

Neither Nezu or Tsukauchi replied. What could they really say in response? All Might felt there was no need to keep it a secret how upset he was about the situation. Someone had kidnapped one of his students, then turned him against them. No matter what kind of hero he was, he was not about to let such a crime go unaddressed.

Tsukauchi led them down a turn in the hallway. How Tsukauchi knew his way around Tartarus so well was beyond All Might’s understanding. All the halls looked exactly the same to him – pure white and lit from above with bright florescent lights. At the end of the new hallway two prison guards stood at attention. As they neared, All Might saw they flanked a set of two separate doors. He assumed behind one of those doors was Midoriya. All Might wasn’t sure if he was excited or apprehensive to see Midoriya again so soon after their battle.

“With permission from Principle Nezu I called UA and had the school’s nurse, Recovery Girl, brought in as a consultant,” Tsukauchi said as they approached. “It seemed the most prudent thing to do given her preexisting knowledge of Midoriya’s medical background and quirk. She’s been overseeing his medical assessment since we brought him in.”

All Might nodded thoughtfully. “Hopefully she’ll be able to give us some insight on what’s going on with young Midoriya.”

They neared the guards and flashed them their visitor passes. One of the guards ran his key card through a security reader and opened the left hand door for them with a beep and heavy clunk of disengaging bolts. All Might followed Tsukauchi and Nezu inside.

The door opened into a small room. The room was as stark and colorless as the hallways outside. A single chair was the only furniture there. The only other feature of the room to speak of was a large pane of glass that took up a majority of the right hand wall. As expected, Aizawa and Recovery Girl were already there. Recovery Girl barely looked up at their arrival from a thick folder of medical papers in her hands. Aizawa barely acknowledged them either from his spot on the far side of the room. His attention was focused through the window into a secondary room on the other side.

All Might had been in similar interrogation rooms before. He knew that “window” was actually a two way mirror that looked into a holding cell. With a slight clench of trepidation in his stomach, All Might looked through the mirror.

The holding cell was about the same size as the visitor’s side. All Might estimated it measured about 3 by 3 meters. There was no furniture – not even a chair or bed. White padding lined all four walls –even the inside of the door that lead outside to the hallway. It was a specialty cell for high-powered criminals with strength-based quirks. For situations in which such a room was need, no risks were taken. All Might knew the walls of that room’s outside walls were over two meters thick of super reinforced concrete and metal. Nothing short of a nuclear blast would break through that cell.

On the other side of the mirror, Midoriya stalked the perimeter of the room like a caged animal. All Might saw he’d been strapped into a specially designed straightjacket over a pair of plain white hospital pants. All Might was slightly relieved to see that his fake hero costume had been taken away. Shigaraki seemed to have known just how to twist the blade in All Might’s stomach with that little touch.

Under the harsh florescent light of the holding cell All Might was able to properly take in his resurrected student’s appearance for the first time. Even bundled in a thick prison straightjacket, Midoriya was noticeably skinnier than he remembered. Overlong hair hung in his face. All Might couldn’t be sure from a distance but he thought he saw a large bandage covering the back of Midoriya’s neck where he’d torn Shigaraki’s control device away. The boy’s skin was a sickly shade of white. Dark circles ringed madness-filled eyes as if Midoriya hadn’t slept for the last several months. All Might’s blood pulsed a bit faster at the sight. He would make sure that the League did not get away with this. Whatever suffering Midoriya had endured would be met with justice. He would not let them get away with this.

Despite being barefoot, bound, and in rough health the boy still managed to give off an almost tangible aura of danger. That was why they had to take so many precautions. From past visits to the jail, All Might knew that straightjacket Midoriya wore was lined with a special material that was linked to the holding cell’s fail safe against unruly prisoners. On the visitor’s side was a panic button. When pressed, the fail safe activated a super-powered magnetic device underneath the holding cell’s floor that would pull the prisoner to the center of the room and hold them there in an artificial gravitational force field until the prisoner calmed themself. This, in addition to Aizawa’s quirk-nullifying gaze, was possibly the only method to ensure Midoriya remained secure.

Blocked by the two way mirror, Midoriya remained oblivious to All Might and the others’ arrival. He continued to pace the sides of the room. As All Might watched, he paused at the left wall of the holding cell and violently swung his upper body into the padded wall as though testing the wall for weaknesses. Despite the attempt, All Might could tell Midoriya was not using One for All. With a snarl, Midoriya moved away and resumed his track around the room.

Aizawa’s eyes followed Midoriya’s every move but his hair remained limp around his face. For the moment, the boy did not seem to be an actual threat.

Tsukauchi led the way into the room and glanced through the mirror into Midoriya’s holding cell. “How long has he been awake?”

Aizawa finally broke his gaze from the pacing teen to glance at the new arrivals. “About twenty minutes. He hasn’t said or done anything too outwardly aggressive yet, but we’re not taking any chances. He could go wild again at any moment. He’s definitely still feeling whatever Shigaraki gave him.”

All Might looked at Recovery Girl. “Were you able to do a medical assessment yet? Do you know what we’re dealing with here?”

Recovery Girl released a heavy sigh and snapped the folder of papers she held close. “Emergency response teams were able to recover the device you said you pulled off Midoriya’s neck. It appears to be a storage container for vials of serum that can be remotely administered to the boy. It looks like it was feeding directly into his spinal column. We were able to recover one full vial of liquid from the delivery pack. We still need to send it to a lab for closer analysis, but initial tests show dangerously high levels of testosterone, anabolic steroids, methamphetamines, traces of opioids, as well as several other compounds too complex to identify at the moment. Basically, the poor boy’s brain cells are swimming in a noxious cocktail of drugs that make him want to rip other people’s faces off. No wonder he’s out of his mind right now.”

Aizawa scowled, his features darkening. “Shigaraki did say he called that stuff Berserker Serum. He was right. It does live up to its name…”

Releasing another sigh, Recovery Girl stared through the mirror at her patient. “While he was still unconscious I managed to do a quick examination. There’s nothing too seriously wrong with him physically. He appears slightly malnourished and has some minor bruises and several circular scars around his hairline I don’t remember being there before, but I’m not sure what they’re from exactly. It could be nothing, or it could be related to whatever the League did to him. This so-called "Berserker Serum” is definitely a big part of what’s causing him to lash out like this, but I’m almost certain he’s suffered some kind of psychological harm as well…"

The sick feeling in All Might’s stomach worsened. Recovery Girl’s assessment made him only feel more helpless and angry than before. He should have been there to protect Midoriya. It was because of the League his student was in a straightjacket locked in a cell half out of his mind on unknown drugs. He would not let the League get away with such crimes.

Recovery Girl went on, “From what Mr. Aizawa’s told me about the fight it does look like Midoriya is coming down a bit from the worst effects of the drug. But he’s still obviously feeling them.”

As if to emphasize the doctor’s assessment, on the other side of the glass, Midoriya paused at a section of padded wall just to the right of the two way mirror and slammed his shoulder into it like an American linebacker. All Might could feel the hit reverberate through the wall and under his feet.

Snarling, Midoriya moved away to continue his track around the cell.

“In other words,” Tsukauchi carefully observed, “he’s still extremely dangerous. Until further notice the police department has commissioned Mr. Aizawa to remain at Tartarus and act as a guard over Midoriya. We can’t risk him breaking free and getting loose. After the train station attack, who knows what other chaos he could cause.”

“Has he said anything since he woke up?” All Might asked.

Aizawa shook his head. “No. Nothing. Just got up and started tracking the room. Oddly, he hasn’t tried to get out of his restraints or inflict any actual damage on the room.” Without taking his gaze off the pacing boy, Aizawa motioned with his chin towards a large red button on a panel underneath the two way mirror. “First sign of aggression, though, I activate that fail safe. The head guard told me the magnetic pull of that thing can go up to one hundred times Earth’s natural gravity. Between that and my own quirk to neutralize his super strength we should be able to keep Midoriya immobilized if it comes to it.”

“Shall we see if Midoriya is willing to enlighten us about his time away?” Nezu asked the room. He glanced up at Tsukauchi. “I understand this is officially a police interrogation, but I don’t believe Midoriya knows you. Perhaps it would be alright if I asked Midoriya questions? If he remembers me he might be more willing to talk.”

Tsukauchi considered this for a moment. “Alright. I’ll allow it.”

“There is an intercom that connects the rooms together so we can speak to Midoriya, correct?” Nezu asked.

Tsukauchi nodded. “Yes, of course. Here.” He pulled the only chair in the room over to the two way mirror and offered Nezu a hand up onto it. The principle gratefully accepted the officer’s help. Once standing on the chair he was almost chest level with everyone else there.

Tsukauchi pointed to a small control panel beside the room’s fail safe button. “Just flip that switch on the right to activate the intercom. Flip it back to cut the feed to the holding cell.”

“Thank you,” Nezu nodded. He glanced back over his shoulder towards All Might. “All Might, as a precaution, might I suggest you remain silent during the interrogation? The League seems to have somehow convinced Midoriya you are his enemy. He might be more forthcoming with information if he is not encouraged to attack you if he knows you are here.”

All Might’s first instinct was to argue. He wanted to know what had happened to Midoriya more than anyone else there. Midoriya had been his responsibility before anyone else’s. He had been Midoriya’s mentor since before the boy was even admitted to UA. If anyone should have a chance to speak to Midoriya first, it should be him.

But… Nezu did have a point. As much as All Might didn’t want to admit it, the League had somehow turned Midoriya against him. As Nezu pointed out, if the boy heard All Might there Midoriya might try to continue their fight where they’d left it off at the train station.

“Alright,” All Might reluctantly agreed. “I won’t say anything.”

Nezu gratefully nodded. “Thank you. I do understand how difficult this must be for you. We’ll do everything we can to figure out how to help Midoriya and bring him back to us.” Nezu glanced at Aizawa. “Please stay sharp. First sign of aggression, please take any necessary steps to curtail it.”

“Of course,” Aizawa dutifully agreed.

Nezu activated the intercom with a flick of his paw. “Hello, Midoriya. This is principle Nezu from UA high school. Do you remember me?”

Midoriya abruptly stopped pacing and turned towards the mirror. All Might knew Midoriya couldn’t see them, but he still felt a cold chill go down his spine as the boy’s eyes swung towards the two way mirror. Midoriya’s lips curled back from his teeth in a psychotic grin. Even though the boy was calmer than when All Might met him at the train station, Midoriya still had a predatory look in his eyes. Like it wasn’t really him that was locked up and bound in that cell; but rather them, his visitors, who were the ones trapped there with him.

“Nezu,” Midoriya purred in greeting. “How could I forget? So they dragged you here to see me.”

“It seems you created something of a ruckus at the train station earlier.”

Midoriya released a low chuckle. His lips twisted in a devilish grin. “I guess you could say that.” He took several steps closer to the mirror, manic eyes boring into the reflective surface as though trying to somehow see through it to the other side. “Is All Might in there with you? I’d really like to talk to him again. We have some unfinished business…”

“Unfortunately, he is not. He’s seeing to several important matters right now.”

Midoriya’s face screwed into an angry scowl. “More important than me? Shame. I would have made his visit worth it.”

“The police and I have several questions we would like to ask you.”

Midoriya edged closer to the glass. He now stood only several feet away from it. “I’m sure you do.”

“Where was the League of Villains holding you?”

“Don’t know.”

“Do you know what the League’s plans are next?”

“Nope.”

“What was their ultimate goal for attacking the train station tonight?”

Midoriya gave a low chuckle. All Might thought it was a sound that belonged in an insane asylum. “To draw All Might out into the open. The master wanted to test my strength. He said it was time to see what I could do.”

Midoriya inched closer to the two way mirror and slowly tipped forward until his forehead bumped the glass. He stared out from under overlong green bangs into his own reflection. His breath made little puffs of fog against the mirror. All Might knew there was no possible way for Midoriya to see him there, but that didn’t quite stop him from standing up a little taller. The hairs on the back of neck instinctively stood on end. Even Nezu leaned back from the glass. Midoriya’s presence was invasive and exuded danger even through several inches of special reinforced glass. Madness seemed to seep off him in tangible waves.

“How about a question for you,” Midoriya smiled. “If All Might’s not here, where is he?” He sluggishly rolled his forehead side to side as though scouting through the glass to scan the visitor section. “Did I hurt him much?”

The question was asked almost hopefully, which made All Might uncomfortable.

Nezu kept his calm and didn’t let anything slip in his voice. “All Might is fine. But he is very worried about you. You are obviously not yourself.”

A laugh erupted from Midoriya as manic eyes swung back to stare straight ahead through the mirror – ironically, almost directly at Nezu. “All Might should be worried less about me and more about what I’m going to do to him once I get out of here… Do you think if I used my quirk to break out of here he’d come?”

As if to test his theory, tracks of glowing red energy appeared across his face and neck. Even separated by several inches of military-grade glass All Might could feel the charge of electricity in the air.

But as quickly as One For All manifested it abruptly disappeared again. Deranged green eyes immediately swung to the far left side of the mirror where Aizawa stood. The erasing hero’s hair was swept up away from his face, his eyes a soft glow of red.

A chill went through All Might. There should be no way for Midoriya to know where Aizawa was standing behind the mirror. But somehow he’d managed to pinpoint him. Could he somehow feel the direction Aizawa’s quirk came from? To All Might’s knowledge that should be impossible, yet here they were with Midoriya staring daggers through the glass almost directly at Aizawa. Even half-crazed and high on some unknown quirk-enhancing drug, the boy’s skills of deduction were frightening.

All Might didn’t seem to be the only one to realize what just happened. If All Might wasn’t mistaken he could have sworn he saw Aizawa stiffen and actually take half a step backwards in surprise.

“I should have known you’d be here, Mr. Aizawa,” Midoriya growled through the glass. “You stopped me from finishing All Might at the train station. Once I get out of here and finish All Might I’ll make sure to come see you next.”

To his credit, Aizawa’s voice did not betray any unease. “That’s not going to happen, Midoriya. Not while I’m here.”

Midoriya leaned back from the glass, a psychotic smile curling almost to his ears. “Keep telling yourself that. Hey, Mr. Aizawa,” he murmured, leaning closer to the mirror again as though to whisper a secret. “Remember that first day of class when you said you’d expel the student that came in last for the fitness test? You should have sent me home that day. Because erasing quirk or not, once I get out of here I’m going to hunt you down, scoop your eyeballs out of your skull and squish them between my toes like grapes.” Midoriya’s smile widened even more before a manic cackle erupted from his mouth. There was no doubt in anyone’s mind that Midoriya’s threat was not an empty one.

It was at that moment that All Might truly realized just how much the League had warped the young boy All Might had taken under his wings what felt like a lifetime ago. Whoever this boy locked in this cell was was no longer the Midoriya he remembered. Seeing him like this and hearing such threats come out of his mouth made All Might wonder if there really was any hope of bringing the boy he once knew back.

Nezu was the first to recover from his shock at Midoriya’s threat. The mouse delicately cleared his throat. “If you please, Midoriya. Let’s try to stay on track… You keep saying you want to attack All Might. What exactly did he do, or the League say he did, to make you so intent on this?”

Midoriya returned his gaze forward. Green eyes burned bright with madness. “All Might knows what he did. I trusted him. When I first met him I actually believed he was the kind of hero everyone else said he was. But now I know I was just being a dumb, idiotic kid to believe all that fake hype. I saw All Might’s true colors when it really came down to it. It’s his fault they took me and made me live in the dark. It’s his fault the master had to reset me. This. Is. All. His. Fault!”

All Might didn’t know how to react. He’d heard many villain monologues over the years – blaming him for all the wrongs of the world and why it was somehow his fault crime was the only answer to their problems. But hearing such things from his protégé’s own mouth hit All Might in way it had never got to him before.

Before he could remember his promise, All Might blurted out, “I don’t understand, Midoriya! Tell me what I did. How can I make this right?”

The change in Midoriya was instantaneous. As soon as All Might’s voice registered in his brain his gaze sharpened. His lips peeled back from his teeth in a ferocious snarl. Murderous rage filled his eyes. “ALL MIGHT!” he roared at the glass. “I’m going to kill yoooooooouu!”

Energy suddenly crackled the air around Midoriya. Sharply leaning back from the two way mirror, Midoriya snapped forward at the waist. His forehead smacked the glass with a hollow thunk. The mirror shuddered in its tracks.

“I’ll killlllllllll yooooooooooou!”

Midoriya reared back again and violently drove his face into the glass. A dinner plate-sized shatter point appeared in the middle of the glass. Spider web cracks shot across the mirror several feet in all directions. The center of the impact point shined a wet, sticky red.

There was half a heartbeat of startled horror from everyone in the visitor room. Aizawa was the first to shake himself out of his shock. The erasing hero’s hair flew up around his face. His hand darted out and slapped the fail safe button.

Midoriya was rearing back for a third strike just as the crackling energy of One For All disappeared from around him and the fail safe kicked on. Blood streamed down his face in thick rivulets. Droplets of red spotted the front of his straight jacket. A low hum filled the room and suddenly Midoriya was being dragged backwards to the center of the room. He dropped heavily to his knees, viciously thrashing against the invisible magnetic pull. Without the use of his quirk, though, all he could do was struggle.

“ALLLMIIIGHT!” he roared at the window in a mindless rage. “I’ll kiiiiillll you! You hear me?! I’ll kill yooooooooooou!”“

Aizawa reached over and slapped the intercom system off so their voices could no longer be heard in the cell. Midoriya’s ranting screams abruptly quieted too, but they could still hear the muffled whisper of his screams through the cracked remains of the mirror.

All Might stood frozen in place, staring at his former student in heartbroken, stunned anguish. The pure violence of Midoriya’s assault on the mirror in response to just the sound of his voice was shocking. He knew Midoriya was not himself and that this reckless hatred towards him was a result of his stay with the League of Villains. But that didn’t lessen the sting of knowing that the boy he loved as a son wanted to see him dead.

It hurt. It hurt in a way All Might hadn’t been hurt for many, many years now.

All Might only came back to himself when he felt Tsukauchi step up beside him and grip his arm. "Hey, All Might. Come on. Don’t listen to him. He’s out of his mind right now. Whatever the League did to him wasn’t you fault.”

Wasn’t it though?

All Might wanted to listen to Tsukauchi. He really did. He trusted the young cop’s judgment but this was something that went beyond logic. Midoriya’s accusations struck at his very core, reminding him once again of what a failure he was and how much he’d let his student down.

“I suggest you get out of here, All Might,” Aizawa darkly announced. Quirk reddened eyes continued to nullify Midoriya’s quirk through the glass. Aizawa did not risk even tilting his head in All Might’s direction. “This interrogation’s over. We’re not going to get any more useful information out of him now.”

All Might heard the disapproval in Aizawa’s voice. He knew he’d screwed up by speaking and letting Midoriya know he was there. But how could he leave Midoriya now? He had to figure out some way to help the boy. He had to!

Nezu jumped down from the chair. “Come, All Might. Let’s leave Aizawa to his work. We’ll wait until Midoriya is calmed down to try talking to him again.”

All Might numbly let Tsukauchi guide him towards the door.

Tsukauchi glanced back over his shoulder towards Aizawa and Recovery Girl. “Please let us know if there are any improvements in his condition.”

Recovery Girl let out a tired sigh, as if steeling herself for the long road ahead. “We’ll continue running what tests we can on this Berserker Serum. Hopefully whatever it is will wear off quickly. In any other circumstance I’d suggest possibly sedating the patient to wait for the chemicals to clear the system. But… given we don’t know exactly what this Berserker Serum is made of, how it would react with any sort of sedatives we’d give him, and how overtaxed the poor boy’s systems already are with so many chemicals running through him I don’t think that would be a good idea right now… As long as Aizawa can keep him under control I don’t suggest making this situation any worse than it already is.”

“Please keep us posted,” Nezu insisted.

Midoriya’s muffled screams could still be heard through the two way mirror. All Might glanced back one last time as Tsukauchi guided him into the hallway. The boy was violently thrashing on his knees. Blood stained his face and the front of his straightjacket. Between the blood-matted locks of hair Midoriya glared at the two way mirror. All Might saw nothing but murderous rage in those eyes. Watching Midoriya scream and thrash, All Might honestly could see nothing of the sweet boy he one knew and loved. All that remained was this demon-possessed being of hate. Not for the first time he wondered if there was any way to bring the Midoriya he loved back.

***

It was over an hour before Aizawa felt Midoriya had calmed down enough to release him from the cell’s fair safe. For that hour he was held in the fail safe’s magnetic pull Midoriya continued to scream and rage at the two way mirror, mindlessly yelling threats and obscenities at All Might who was no longer even there. Aizawa would have been lying if he said he wasn’t taken aback by some of the more gruesome ways Midoriya described how he would eviscerate the Symbol of Peace once he got his hands on him. It only further illustrated how much the League had warped the young boy’s mind.

When Aizawa did release Midoriya from the fail safe, the boy immediately began to stalk back and forth in front of the two way mirror like a predator stalking the entrance of a burrow its prey had disappeared. Saliva foamed in the corners of his mouth as he paced back and forth. Madness-filled eyes glared at the cracked remains of the glass as though trying to see through it to the other side. Rage radiated off him in almost tangible waves. But he did not try to break through the mirror again or use his quirk to escape, which Aizawa was immensely grateful for.

From there the hours began to bleed one into the next. Aizawa didn’t even try to keep track of time. His only concern was watching Midoriya. If the boy went wild again it was his job to stop the rampage.

The boy had scared him earlier. Before Midoriya’s return Aizawa would have never thought his student capable of such murderous rage. The Midoriya that stalked back and forth in front of the mirror was nothing like the boy he once taught. The boy in that cell was a raging demon. If he somehow got loose there was no saying what kind of destruction he could cause. Even All Might had had trouble fighting him. Aizawa could only hope Shigaraki’s Berserker Serum wore off soon.

Over the day numerous people came in to observe Midoriya. Recovery Girl came and went several times – sometimes accompanied by the prison doctor, other times by herself. Tsukauchi returned at one point and took Aizawa’s official statement about the train station attack before disappearing again. Aizawa didn’t know where All Might and Nezu went. He assumed Nezu returned to school to start preparing for the political fallout of their student returning from the dead as an accomplice of the League of Villains. Once word of Midoriya’s return got out the press was going to have a field day with the story.

And All Might… Aizawa thought it possible Nezu or Tsukauchi might have been able to talk All Might into going home to rest. But knowing the Symbol of Peace like he did, Aizawa suspected he was still somewhere in the building. All Might had been visibly shaken by Midoriya’s accusations. No doubt the other hero was not taking their student’s return well.

By the next morning, Midoriya finally began to show signs of coming down from his Berserker high. After sluggishly pacing the cell’s perimeter slower and slower all night he finally sat down and slumped against the far wall of the cell.

Aizawa continued to watch the boy. Although tired and his eyes gritty from exhaustion and overuse of his quirk, Aizawa refused to let his guard down. Midoriya was still an unknown threat.

By the afternoon of the day after the train station attack Midoriya went utterly still. He sat in the same place he’d dropped the night before, staring blankly at the floor from a curled position against the wall. He appeared almost as if in a trance. Aizawa could detect no signs of his earlier aggression or rage. He reminded Aizawa of how he’d first seen Midoriya at the train station – quiet and disassociated from everything around him to the point that Midoriya reminded him of a soulless robot. He couldn’t say why exactly but seeing Midoriya like this unnerved Aizawa more than when Midoriya had been in the throes of his berserker rage.

As the hours dragged on, Aizawa began to feel the weight of his assignment. He’d been up for at least the last 36 hours. His eyes burned and his mind was sluggish from exhaustion. It was a struggle to remain alert. He knew he couldn’t risk letting his guard down, though, even for a moment. Even though it was unlikely at this point, there was no guarantee Midoriya wouldn’t go into another rage like before. He had to be ready in case Midoriya did.

Aizawa was used to getting little sleep. He’d gone longer without sleep on other missions before. Sleep deprivation was basically his signature trademark. But while he was used to foregoing sleep in one way or another, that didn’t mean if was fun. He saw it as just an unfortunate consequence of his job. That was one of the reasons he cherished his naps so much. Once this whole mess with Midoriya was settled, he promised himself, he was going to give himself several days to sleep like the dead…

It was sometime after Midoriya went catatonic that Recovery Girl came back.

“Oh dear,” she sadly murmured as she gazed through the cracked two way mirror at her patient. “He certainly doesn’t look well, does he?”

“No,” Aizawa agreed. “He hasn’t moved for the last several hours. I’d say he was sleeping but his eyes are open and every so often I see him blink.”

The elderly doctor gave a sigh. “At least he seems to finally be coming down off that villain’s concoction… I just got results back from the lab we rushed that sample of Berserker Serum to.”

Aizawa risked a quick glance away from Midoriya, intrigued. “What did they find?”

Recovery Girl pulled a sheet of paper out of the folder she always carried with her when she came to check on Midoriya. She scanned it with a frown. “Unfortunately not a whole lot more than what our initial tests showed. Several compounds are still beyond our testing capabilities to identify. The lab techs are still trying to analyze them. Some of them appear to be completely new - probably lab-made. But I can almost guarantee you not by any lab sanctioned by the national government… Besides the steroids, testosterone, and methamphetamines we originally identified, the lab also found a powerful variant of ketamine in the mix. Ketamine is known to cause trance-like states, sensory distortion, memory loss, and is even sometime used for sedation. Given all that, it would certainly explain a lot of Midoriya’s current state of psychosis…”

Aizawa could only nod in agreement. He might not have a medical background but even he knew so many powerful drugs in one person’s system could not be good. And if Midoriya had been on such a concoction for the last several months, who knew how his brain cells were processing any information right now. No wonder he’d been half out of his mind…

Recovery Girl laid the folder of medical charts aside on the chair and leveled a heavy look at Aizawa. “I know you’re probably going to object, but I’d like to go in and do a physical assessment of Midoriya. I need to check his vitals and maybe even clean him up a bit. His face is still crusted with blood from when he smashed his face against the glass.”

“Absolutely not,” was Aizawa’s immediate response. “That boy almost pummeled All Might into the ground with his bare fists earlier. I’m not about to let you go in there to take his temperature.”

“I’m not exactly asking for your permission, Aizawa” Recovery Girl tartly replied. “The boy is my patient and I am in charge of his medical well-being. And I am telling you I need to see him up close for an assessment.”

Aizawa turned towards Recovery Girl with raised eyebrows. He couldn’t say for sure if he’d ever heard the school nurse show so much attitude before.

Recovery Girl met Aizawa’s gaze undaunted. “The boy is coming off a chemically induced high no medical professional has ever seen before. I need to see how his body is reacting. I know what your objections are, but I don’t care. I will be careful. I just need you to keep watch while I assess his condition.”

Aizawa scowled into the folds of his capture weapon. “Midoriya is smart. He might be brainwashed and drugged, but he is still extremely intelligent. He could be faking right now to trick someone into going in there and giving him an opportunity to escape. I’m not ready to believe he won’t attack if we go in there.”

Recovery Girl straightened herself up to all three feet of her full height. “Again, I’m not asking you for permission. I have a job to do just like you do. The prison doctor, Dr. Tsubaki, is waiting in the hallway for me. We are going to go in there whether you come with us or not. I would prefer to have you there with us as backup, but if you’d rather stay in here in case we have to use the fail safe we can have one of the guards accompany us into the cell.”

Aizawa inwardly growled. Despite her diminutive stature and grandmotherly demeanor, UA’s school nurse had a backbone of steel.

“Fine,” he grumbled. “I’ll go with you. But one of the guards has to come in here to man the fail safe in case Midoriya starts getting aggressive again.”

Recovery Girl leveled a deceptively sweet smile at him. “Of course.”

Aizawa followed Recovery Girl out into the hallway. Two guards stood there along with an older man with salt and pepper hair and glasses. The ID card hanging from the lapel of his lab coat identified him as Dr. Tsubaki - Tartarus’s head doctor.

“Mr. Aizawa will be accompanying us in to check Midoriya,” Recovery Girl happily announced as they came into the hallway.

“Good,” Tsubaki nodded. “Honda, please stay by the fail safe button while we are in the cell. This is an alert level five threat. First sign of aggression activate the fail safe.”

“Yes, sir,” the guard closest to Aizawa replied. In the blink of an eye he disappeared into the visitors’ side of the cell.

Recovery Girl glanced up at Aizawa. “Dr. Tsubaki’s quirk allows him to diagnostically "read” another person’s body,“ she explained. "He can tell what’s wrong with a person just by touching them. He has been extremely helpful so far in Midoriya’s case. He helped me assess Midoriya when he was first brought in.”

“Let’s try to move quickly,” Tsubaki said. “No more than five minutes in there. From everything we’ve seen so far, the less time we stay near the prisoner the better. He could become violent again at any moment.”

Aizawa had to admit he liked the doctor’s no-nonsense attitude and sense of caution. But then again, Tsubaki worked in a maximum security prison where all his patients had both the capability and desire to cause massive harm. He’d probably developed a super-heightened sense of caution over the years.

“I’ll go in first,” Aizawa said, moving to the door of Midoriya’s side of the cell. “As much as possible please try to maintain a clear line of sight from me to Midoriya. I need to keep him in my sights to nullify his quirk.”

“Understood,” Tsubaki nodded. He shifted the strap of a medical supply bag hanging from his shoulder. “Let’s do this. Nishikawa, open the door.”

The other guard slid his keycard through the scanner beside the door. The heavy clunk of internal mechanisms sounded. Aizawa’s hair was already lifting from his face as he pushed open the door. Quirk-reddened eyes found Midoriya still slumped in the same place against the wall. The boy hadn’t moved at all. Aizawa strode across the cell to the far wall, his eyes locked on the motionless form.

Recovery Girl and Tsubaki cautiously followed Aizawa inside the cell. The second guard remained in the doorway. His finger hovered over the trigger of his gun.

The boy remained motionless. He didn’t even seem aware that anyone else was there with him.

“Midoriya?” Recovery Girl called. She hung back several feet from their patient out of reach should he suddenly lunge at them. “We’re here to help you.”

Still no reaction from the boy.

The two doctors exchanged a cautious glance.

“Let me,” Tsubaki said. He slowly inched forward and dropped to one knee in front of Midoriya.

Aizawa’s eyes narrowed. If Midoriya really was faking, this would be the moment he sprung his trap.

Tsubaki reached out and gently slid two fingers underneath Midoriya’s chin to feel his pulse. Midoriya didn’t even blink at the touch. He might as well have been a doll for all the reaction he gave. “Mr. Aizawa,” Tsubaki said over his shoulder, “please drop your quirk. I can’t assess the patient with you erasing my diagnostic quirk.”

Aizawa hesitated. All his instincts screamed at him not to release his target from his gaze. If Midoriya decided to attack he could use the split second delay of Aizawa reactivating his quirk again to make a move. The boy was frighteningly smart – he’d proved as much before when he’d pinpointed Aizawa’s position behind the two way mirror. But the longer the doctors couldn’t do their job the longer they had to remain in that cell exposed to a possible attack.

With great reluctance, Aizawa let the heat in the back of his eyes recede. His hair drifted back down to hang around his face. “Be quick,” he growled at the doctor.

Tsubaki’s hands skimmed across Midoriya’s face and neck. Recovery Girl moved forward to kneel beside Tsubaki in front of their patient.

“Temperature feels okay,” Tsubaki murmured as his hands moved. “Heartbeat is sluggish though. I’d say about 55/45. Definitely suffering from dehydration. I can feel his organs starting to struggle.”

“Poor boy hasn’t had any fluid for at least 48 hours,” Recovery Girl frowned. “In any other situation I would have put him on a saline drip when he first came in. But with that straightjacket, we can’t get to his arms. Also, if he has another fit like before he’d probably only rip it out and hurt himself.”

“We could do a neck or ankle IV,” Tsubaki suggested. “It’s not ideal but at least it would get a fluid flow into him.”

Recovery Girl frowned. “I’d like to not resort to that just yet. Let’s see if we can’t get him to drink something on his own first.”

Recovery Girl went to the medical bag Tsubaki had carried in with them. She rummaged around the contents for a moment before extracting a handful of things. One of them was a water bottle with a long, tapered head – almost like a straw.

Gently smoothing the overlong hair back from Midoriya’s face she tilted his head away from the wall. Green eyes blankly stared past her into nothing. Aizawa was once again unnerved by the boy’s catatonic state. It just wasn’t right…

Recovery Girl rested the water bottle’s spout against the boy’s cracked lips and squeezed a small stream of water into his mouth. Midoriya reflexively swallowed the offered water. Aizawa was reminded of a living doll.

“There we go,” Recovery Girl praised after half the bottle was gone. “I bet that tasted good, didn’t it?”

Midoriya offered her no reply. He just continued to mindlessly stare into the distance, oblivious to everything around him.

“Let’s see if we can’t clean you up a bit while we’re here,” she said as she pulled out a cloth from the doctor’s bag. Squirting some of the leftover water onto the cloth she gently dabbed at the streaks of dried blood crusting Midoriya’s face. As Recovery Girl did this, Tsubaki continued his diagnosis. He pressed one hand to the side of Midoriya’s neck and closed his eyes as if to better understand what his quirk was telling him.

“This is so strange,” he murmured with a frown after several moments. “Everything just feels so… wrong. When I touch a normal person I can feel everything that’s going on in their body depending on where I focus my attention. But with this prisoner… it’s like something’s been disconnected. Everything feels… numb. Like how it feels after getting a shot of local anesthetic. I’ve never felt anything like it before. And his mind… it’s like the lights are on but no one’s home. I don’t feel any sense of cognizant awareness like I normally would. It might be that his brain is just so overtaxed right now by all those chemicals that it’s gone into some sort of hibernation while it tries to recover.”

Tsubaki removed his hand from Midoriya’s neck and leveled a serious look at Recovery Girl. “It’s still very early in his recovery but I think this is something that’s going to go beyond a physical medical professional’s ability to heal. I get the feeling a trained psychologist is going to need to be brought in at some point.”

Recovery Girl gave a small sigh of disappointment. “I see…” She leaned back from Midoriya and sadly surveyed her handiwork.

Cleaned of the blood, sweat, and spittle of his earlier rampage, Aizawa was taken aback by how young Midoriya suddenly looked. After seeing his student’s demonic fits of rage before it was jarring to remember Midoriya was really just a child. A rush of intense anger welled up in Aizawa at the thought. If he ever got his hands on Shigaraki he was going to make sure the League of Villains regretted ever going after one of his students.

“Let’s get out of here,” Tsubaki declared. “We’ll let him continue to rest. There’s nothing else we can do for him right now.” The two doctors quickly cleaned up their supplies and made for the door.

Aizawa followed after them. As they went into the hallway, Aizawa glanced one more time into the cell. Midoriya still hadn’t moved from his spot. He remained in a curled ball against the wall, staring blankly ahead into nothing. After seeing his student up close and hearing the doctor’s assessment Aizawa couldn’t help but wonder when the boy would begin to recover.

By the next morning Midoriya’s state began to worsen. It happened gradually, almost imperceptibly. It started with small muscle spasms in his limbs. At first Aizawa thought the boy was starting to regain his sense of self and trying to wake from his stupor. But as the hours wore on Midoriya’s breathing began to grow more labored. The muscle jerks turned into visible full-body shaking. Sweat broke out across the boy’s forehead and neck, giving him a sickly sheen. Not long after that Midoriya began to vomit. All he brought up were thin ropes of foamy bile which puddled beside him on the floor. Having not eaten for the last several days, there was nothing else in his stomach to throw up. But that didn’t stop his stomach from turning over and over, leaving Midoriya unable to do anything more than dry heave in open misery against the wall.

Recovery Girl and Tsubaki assessed these things as signs of drug withdrawal. The prison doctor tried to spin it as a good thing – that the noxious chemicals the League of Villains had poisoned the boy with were finally starting to leave his system. Aizawa saw the logic in that, but it didn’t really ease the helplessness and anger he felt as he watched his student spiral deeper and deeper into increasingly violent withdrawal symptoms.

He expressed such concern to Recovery Girl at one point but was told there was nothing they could do. They couldn’t risk giving Midoriya anything to help ease withdrawal symptoms or risk taking him out of the cell yet. There was still no saying where he was mentally and what kind of threat he’d still pose if he suddenly became violent. Until the drugs left his system, all they could do was wait.

By late that evening the worst of Midoriya’s shaking finally began to subside. Midoriya’s face remained sweaty and flushed. To Aizawa, Midoriya appeared the living embodiment of sickness and suffering. It was sometime after one of the prison guards brought Aizawa his evening meal that he caught a faint murmur over the cell’s intercom system. Intrigued, he stared at his student through the cracked mirror. Midoriya’s head rested against the padded wall of the cell. His eyes were barely open. He seemed more asleep than awake. Through the overlong locks of green hair that curtained Midoriya’s face Aizawa could see the boy’s lips trembling as if he were talking to himself. Very faintly over the intercom Aizawa was able to catch several feverishly mumbled words.

“All Might… no… don’t leave me…”

Aizawa wasn’t sure what to make of Midoriya’s rambling. The boy didn’t sound angry and vengeful like he had when talking about All Might before. He almost sounded… frightened. Pleading, even.

From there Midoriya’s murmurs dissolved into a string of unintelligible mumbles. Through the night Midoriya continued to occasionally cry out and whimper in his fevered sleep. When he did he would jerk and twist inside his straightjacket as if cringing away from something or someone only he could see in his mind.

Aizawa kept vigil over the boy the entire time. Although it silently tore his heart to see his student reduced to such a pathetic state he had a mission to keep watch over the boy, and that was what he was going to do.

The next morning All Might, Tsukauchi and Principle Nezu returned to check on Midoriya’s progress. By that point Aizawa felt a strange sense of floaty disconnection from the rest of the world. He’d been up for over 72 hours now. The caffeine pills he always carried with him for missions like this were starting to lose their effectiveness. A headache was starting to brew just behind his eyes. If this kept going, Aizawa wasn’t sure how effective he would be if Midoriya suddenly went crazy. He was starting to reach the end of his physical limits.

He didn’t seem to be the only one having a hard time with everything. Aizawa had been taken aback when All Might followed Tsukauchi and Nezu into the room that morning. The other hero seemed to have aged twenty years since Aizawa last saw him. A dark cloud hung over the Symbol of Peace. All Might always seemed quieter and more prone to bouts of sullen thoughtfulness when he was in his weak form. But the emptiness in his eyes now was something Aizawa had never seen before. It almost reminded him of how All Might looked in the days immediately after Midoriya’s supposed death.

Aizawa had never approved of All Might’s blatant favoritism of Midoriya. Teachers were supposed to be impartial and treat all of their students the same. He didn’t understand why All Might and Midoriya had such a close relationship. Even from the first day of class All Might had shown Midoriya extra attention. Whatever the case – regardless of Aizawa’s feelings towards their relationship – there was no denying All Might’s attachment to the boy. Aizawa had actually been surprised when All Might returned to UA after summer break. He’d seen how hard the older hero had taken their student’s death. So to have Midoriya back now and blaming All Might for his captivity… Well, there was no way All Might wasn’t stewing in his own guilt.

In some ways Aizawa understood All Might’s feelings. He’d come to respect Midoriya himself over the course of the semester. Aizawa had deemed Midoriya his new “problem child” early on in the semester. Trouble seemed to follow the bookworm wherever he went, but the kid had great potential. He just needed to get Midoriya to learn how to control his power without shattering his body every time he tried to use his quirk. When Midoriya had been “killed” Aizawa had been surprised how hard the new hit him. He’d expelled numerous students of the years, taught the others and sent them on their way to become pro heroes where several of them had eventually been killed in the line of duty. But never had Aizawa actually lost a student while still under his tutelage. Although he hadn’t been there at the shopping mall with his students Aizawa couldn’t help but wonder if there was something else he could have done to prevent Midoriya from being taken by the League of Villains.

If he himself was experiencing so much doubt and guilt, who knew how All Might was dealing with everything…

Shaking himself out of his wondering thoughts, Aizawa tried to focus on what Tsukauchi was saying. Whenever he got this tired it got harder to focus on anything.

“We’ve had both police and heroes out in force, but there have been no other signs of the League since the train station attack. Shigaraki seems to be laying low for the moment.”

“I will take that as a bit of good news,” Nezu said.

“So do I,” Aizawa agreed. “But I’m not ready to believe Shigaraki or the League is ready to give up just yet. No doubt Shigaraki’s planning his next move as we speak.”

Tsukauchi nodded. “The entire city’s been put on high alert. All hero agencies are conducting around-the-clock patrols. Everyone is just waiting for the next shoe to drop at this point.”

“Has the Education Board had anything to say about students being involved in the latest League attack?” Aizawa asked. It was something he’d been worried about since Midoriya was brought to Tartarus. The student patrol program had been started under the strict understanding from the government that no students were to be involved in combat of any kind. Their sole role was to patrol and report back to licensed pros. Yet in typical class 1-A fashion, less than a week after starting the program, six students had been involved in a life-or-death fight with the League with two students and one teacher ending up in the emergency room.

Nezu sighed. It was the closest Aizawa had ever seen the principle’s unflappable cool come to faltering. “They were… not happy about the incident. All student patrols have been put on hold until further notice. The Board is currently reassessing the threat the League of Villains poses and how much risk students should be expected to face while they are still so young and inexperienced. I’ve had to call in several emergency substitute teachers to come in to teach classes since you, All Might, and Midnight have been out.”

“How is Kayama?” Aizawa asked. He hadn’t gotten any other updates about his colleague since that first night in Tartarus.

“She’s recovering. I visited her in the hospital yesterday,” Nezu replied. “Doctors say she’ll have to remain there for at least another week, but they have given her an excellent prognosis for recovery.”

“What about the student patrol members that weren’t injured?” Aizawa asked. “They should have returned to class by now. Did any of them leak information about Midoriya’s return?”

Nezu shook his head. “No. I spoke to them before they returned to class and reminded them of the police gag order they’re under. Midoriya’s return is considered classified information. I know several of them were close friends with Midoriya before his disappearance so they were all understandably upset and confused by what happened. Unfortunately, I couldn’t give them any information about his current state or whereabouts. I could only promise them that we were all doing everything we could to help him.”

“We might not be enough to help him,” a soft voice spoke up behind Nezu. All Might stood by himself away from the rest of them. Haunted blue eyes stared at Midoriya’s motionless curled form through the cracked two way mirror. Sorrow was etched in every corner of the hero’s wizened face. “The League hurt Midoriya so badly… What if nothing we do is enough to help him?”

“You can’t start thinking like that,” Tsukauchi gently insisted. “Midoriya’s only finally starting to come off of Shigaraki’s drug. We should have a better understanding of what we’re dealing with after Midoriya is a little more like himself.”

As though somehow hearing his name through the glass, Midoriya’s one leg twitched in his sleep. He squirmed inside the confines of his straightjacket. Weakly pressing his forehead harder into the padded wall the boy released a low whisper. His eyes were opened partway but Aizawa did not see any actual awareness in them. His lips trembled as though murmuring under his breath.

“What’s happening?” All Might demanded, instantly alert. “Is he alright?”

“He’s been doing that on and off all night,” Aizawa explained. “I’m honestly not sure whether to call it dreaming or hallucinating. Recovery Girl and the prison doctor say it’s a sign of drug withdrawal. Sometimes he’ll start talking or calling out to people. I heard him call out for his mother at least twice last night.”

Tsukauchi seemed to perk up a little at this news. “Has he said anything important?”

Aizawa shook his head tiredly. “No. Mostly just random words and phrases. Nothing to really make any sense of.”

In the cell, Midoriya squirmed inside his straightjacket as though fighting against the restraints to reach out towards something. He still appeared asleep, but locked in a vivid nightmare. Several tears suddenly slipped down his face as a hiccupped sob drifted across the intercom system. “No… no! All Might… don't… no.”

Aizawa heard All Might’s startled gasp from across the room. Distraught eyes swung away from Midoriya to spear Aizawa with an incredulous look. He seemed shaken.

“Has he called for me before?”

“On and off,” Aizawa admitted. “But he always quiets pretty soon afterward. He hasn’t shown any more aggression like he did when he first heard you through the intercom.”

All Might turned to fully face the erasing hero, fists clenched by his sides. Anger was inexplicably building in his skeletal face.

“He was calling me and you didn’t call to notify me?” he demanded. Straightening his back, he rose to his full height over Aizawa and glowered down at him. Even Tsukauchi and Nezu seemed startled by the hero’s sudden mood change.

Aizawa was too tired to react to All Might’s anger. He met the taller hero’s gaze with blood shot eyes, undaunted. “I did not because there was nothing to report. The League brainwashed Midoriya into seeing you as his enemy. They drugged him to the point that he was willing to put his face through a pane of reinforced glass to try and kill you. Just because he’s calling your name doesn’t mean anything. He’s sick and hasn’t shown any signs of sanity since he was brought here. No matter how badly you want him back, he’s not ready to have a rational conversation with you.”

“It is not your decision when I should be updated on my student’s health,” All Might growled through gritted teeth. “If he was calling for me you should have immediately informed me.”

“And do what with that information exactly?” Aizawa snapped back. In some distant corner of his brain he knew he should just stop talking and let All Might be angry with him. But he was really just too tired to try and hold his own frustration about the situation in any longer. His temper always got short when he let himself get this tired. “What would you have done if I had called you? Come all the way out to Tartarus and stare at him through a two way mirror? There’s nothing you can do to help him. As of right now, he is no longer your student. He is a weapon of mass destruction the League is trying to kill you with. Midoriya is not the same boy you once knew and he might never be again!”

Aizawa regretted his words as soon as they left his mouth. The startled look of hurt in All Might’s hollowed eyes told Aizawa he’d gone too far with that. All Might didn’t need him pointing out how useless he was. The other hero had probably spent the last few days beating himself up with very same thoughts.

Taking a deep breath as if to collect himself, All Might shook his head. “I don’t care what the League’s done to Midoriya. He is my responsibility. It was my job to protect him and I wasn’t there to do that. It was my fault the League got a hold of Midoriya and turned him against us. It might be too little too late now, but I’m not going to let him down again.”

With no other warning, All Might abruptly turned and stalked towards the door. Aizawa, Tsukauchi, and Nezu all stared after him in confusion.

“Is he-?” Tsukauchi murmured. Horrified realization blossomed across his face.

“Shit,” Aizawa cursed under his breath as he darted after the Symbol of Peace. Stupid! He should have known All Might would immediately want to go to Midoriya once he heard the boy calling him.

“All Might, wait! Don’t go in there!” Tsukauchi shouted.

All Might was already in the hallway and swiping his access card in the cell’s scanner. The two guards stationed there seemed unsure about what they were supposed to do in this situation. The door’s internal locks slid aside with a heavy thump. All Might shoved the door open with a bang.

“All Might, don’t!” Aizawa yelled.

But All Might had already disappeared inside the cell.

Aizawa’s eyes burned as he activated his quirk. After so much use and going without sleep for so long it felt like acid being poured against the insides of his eyeballs. The erasing hero blinked back the sting of tears as he rushed into the cell after All Might, hoping against hope the Symbol of Peace wasn’t going to get himself killed before he could stop it…

***

All Might ignored his colleagues’ shouts as he stormed out of the visitor’s side of the cell. He was so focused on his mission their shouts might as well have been the buzz of mosquito wings in his ears. He swept past the guards in the hallway and swiped his pass through the keycard scanner that led into Midoriya’s side of the cell.

“All Might, don’t!” Aizawa’s voice yelled.

Aizawa might as well have been yelling at the wall. The only thing on All Might’s mind right now was getting to Midoriya. The boy had called for him. He had to see him. He’d already let his protégé down so much. There was no way he could ignore his plaintive calls.

The locks to Midoriya’s cell disengaged in a series of heavy thunks. All Might pushed the door open. He must have pushed it harder than he thought in his haste because the door swung inwards and hit the padded wall with a loud, echoing thwack.

Midoriya visibly startled at the bang as though abruptly woken from a dream. Bewildered green eyes flew open. His head snapped up away from the wall. He looked around in startled confusion. Against expectations, instead of leaping onto the offensive Midoriya cringed back against the wall, drawing his legs up to his chest as though to make himself smaller. He seemed to cower into his straightjacket.

All Might took several long strides to the middle of the cell and stopped. For a moment he just stared at his former student. Up close to Midoriya like this the boy looked so much smaller and frail than All Might ever remembered. A sickly sheet of sweat covered Midoriya’s face and neck. Green hair lay plastered in tangled mats against his forehead and cheeks. Although bundled in a thick prison straightjacket All Might could still detect a slight tremor in the boy’s frame – but whether that was from chills or drug withdrawal he couldn’t say. It was hard to believe that only a few days ago this same boy had been a raging powerhouse of destruction.

Behind him, All Might heard Aizawa push his way into the room and hurriedly take point behind him to his left. Although he didn’t look behind him he knew Aizawa’s quirk would be fully activated.

Tsukauchi and Nezu hung back in the doorway. The guards in the hall were on full alert. Their fingers hovered over the triggers of their stun rifles. Tension filled the air like a physical presence.

“All Might,” Tsukauchi hissed from the doorway. Panic tinged his voice. “We shouldn’t be in here. It’s too dangerous. Come back and we’ll talk to Midoriya through the intercom.”

All Might stood frozen in place. His eyes were locked on the shivering form. Midoriya looked so sick. His suffering was almost physically tangible. It made All Might want to fall to his knees and pull Midoriya into his arms where Shigaraki and the League could never hurt him again.

But All Might still had the presence of mind to resist the urge. The last time he’d seen Midoriya face to face his protégé had been trying to kill him. Although sick and suffering there was no guarantee any of Midoriya’s rage had gone away. They still didn’t know what the League had done to him or why he wanted to kill All Might so badly.

All Might suddenly realized the dangerous situation he found himself. He’d heard Midoriya pleadingly call his name and he’d immediately gone running to him. His only thought had been to go to his student’s side. If his former teacher, Gran Torino, had been there the old hero would have beat him upside the head for acting so foolishly. If Midoriya tried to attack him there was hardly any room in the cell to maneuver. He was also still recovering from his battle with Midoriya. He hadn’t tried to bulk into his muscular form since the train station attack. He doubted he would be able to transform and hold that form for very long given how much that fight had weakened him. As far as he knew, there also wasn’t anyone left in the visitor’s side of the cell to hit the fail safe button if Midoriya did become violent.

The Symbol of Peace silently chastised himself. He should have known better to put himself and the others in such a position. It was like hearing Midoriya call for him had made him completely forget all his years of training and common sense. He’d let his emotions rob him of good judgment. Shigaraki truly couldn’t have targeted anyone else that could make him lose his focus and hurt him so badly on an emotional level like Midoriya could. At some point since taking Midoriya as his protégé, the boy had become his greatest weakness.

Nonetheless, the damage was already done. He was already here. He couldn’t just turn and walk away from Midoriya now.

“Midoriya?” All Might gently called.

Midoriya seemed to cower deeper into the depths of his straightjacket. He cringed back against the wall as though trying to somehow push his way through the padding and concrete to the other side. “D-don’t hurt me!” he weakly cried. “Leave me alone!”

The words hit All Might like a physical punch to the gut.

“I won’t hurt you, my boy. I’m here to help you. It’s All Might. You called me so I came.”

Midoriya lifted his head away from the wall and gazed up at All Might from underneath overlong bangs as if seeing him for the first time. Bloodshot eyes stared at All Might for a long moment of intense silence.

All Might’s heart buoyed with hope. Perhaps now that Midoriya was free from the influence of Shigaraki’s Berserker Serum the boy would remember himself. Maybe he would finally be able to celebrate his student’s unexpected return from the dead.

But those hopes were dashed as Midoriya’s face contorted into an ugly scowl of disgust. Lips pulled back in a weak snarl. His eyes narrowed with hate.

“Don’t you dare come near me,” Midoriya spat with surprising vehemence given his sickly state. He weakly pulled himself up to sit a little straighter. He didn’t appear strong enough though and slumped back against the wall for support. “Don’t you dare pretend like you actually care about me now, you fake hero.”

All Might’s heart dropped into his stomach like a lead ingot. The threat of tears stung the backs of his eyes. He’d been so hopeful Midoriya had finally come back to him…

Desperation built in the hero’s withered body until it felt like it was going to physically explode out of him. “I don’t understand. What did I do? Why are you so angry at me?” he pleaded.

“Don’t pretend like you don’t know!” Midoriya snarled. Hate-filled eyes glared at All Might as though he’d found something nasty on the bottom of his shoe. “You know what you did.”

“No. I don’t,” All Might insisted, honestly confused. “What did the League say I did?”

“They didn’t tell me anything. I saw it! I might have only been their prisoner but they still dragged me out to see that press conference. I heard what you said. I saw it with my own eyes. So don’t try to deny it! I saw it!”

Behind All Might, Tsukauchi and Nezu hesitantly crept farther into the room, intrigued by this information. Midoriya was talking and appeared to be somewhat sane. This was the opportunity they’d been waiting for. Perhaps they could finally figure out what had happened to Midoriya while he was away.

“What press conference are you talking about?” Tsukauchi asked.

“The one All Might gave after I was kidnapped,” Midoriya spat, venom dripping off every word. “The League sent demands for my release. They said they’d exchange me for several villains that were being held in Tartarus. But All Might – All Might himself! – in front of a room full of reporters refused! He said he and the police department wouldn’t negotiate with the League! He said the League of Villains was a terrorist organization and they wouldn’t accept any ransom demands from them, even for a UA student.”

Green eyes glared up at All Might as though wishing he could make him combust into flames with the sheer power of his anger. “You said I was a regrettable loss! A necessary sacrifice to make sure villainy didn’t prosper! You even said that if I knew what was happening that I would agree with your decision! That I would understand!” Tears formed in Midoriya’s eyes and ran down his cheeks in hot, angry tracks. “Well, I didn’t! I didn’t agree with it! You said I wasn’t important enough to make such an exchange! You abandoned me! I trusted you to come and save me but you just left me!”

Midoriya took a deep breath of air, his breath catching in a sob. He hung his head as though suddenly drained of energy by his rant. “I trusted you…” he added in a choked whisper of despair.

All Might turned and shared confused looks with the other men. What press conference was Midoriya talking about? All Might couldn’t even remember the last time he’d given a formal press conference. Probably not since before he became a teacher at UA.

Midoriya lifted his head, the anger building in his face again. “They locked me in a dark room after that. I don’t even know how long they kept me in there. For awhile I was sure they were going to kill me since I wasn’t any good as a hostage anymore. That whole time I waited in the dark I still held onto the hope that maybe – maybe – you’d change your mind and come find me. But you never did… I waited. For weeks! But you never even tried to save me! I was just a regrettable loss! I thought you cared about me but you tossed me away like a piece of trash! You didn’t even try!”

All Might was at a confused loss for words. Slowly, he dropped to his knees so he could be eye-level with Midoriya. He made sure to keep at least a meter between him and the angry teen. He hadn’t forgotten how dangerous Midoriya was. Even bundled in a straightjacket and visibly trembling with sickness from the after effects of Shigaraki’s Berserker Serum, Midoriya still had that glint of raw hatred in his eyes.

“Midoriya… I don’t know what you’re talking about. I never gave any press conference.”

“Yes you did!” Midoriya snarled. “I saw it! Don’t try and lie to me! I saw it!”

Nezu tentatively inched forward. “All Might is right. He never gave any press conference after you were taken.”

“We all thought you were dead,” All Might said. “I never gave any press conference after you disappeared because… because I was broken by losing you.” All Might’s voice caught at the admission. His eyes unwillingly misted with unwanted memories of those days after Midoriya’s supposed death. “I didn’t leave my house for almost a week. The thought of seeing the press or talking to anyone else was unbearable. I only finally left to go to your memorial service at the school.”

Midoriya angrily shook his head, unmoved by All Might’s confession. “Stop trying to lie to me! I saw you on television! The League sent their demands and you refused! On national TV! You refused to save me! You didn’t even try to look for me! I thought heroes were supposed to save people! You just left me there with them!”

All Might stared into Midoriya’s eyes, desperate for the boy to believe him. Midoriya’s accusations cut him like blades. The thought that Midoriya believed he would do something so callous, so cruel as what he described made All Might want to scream and rage in denial.

“Midoriya… my boy. If I had known you were still alive… If I had thought for just one second that you were still alive I would have tore this entire city apart looking for you. I would have never stopped looking for you. If the League had come to us with a ransom I would have immediately gone to get you myself. I would have never abandoned you. You could never be a necessary sacrifice – not to me, no to anyone at UA. I would have found some way to get you back. But I thought you were dead.”

For a moment Midoriya hesitated, the first hint of doubt breaking through the haze of anger clouding his eyes at All Might’s sincerity. Shaking his head, Midoriya insisted, “I saw you. I saw you! I didn’t imagine that!”

“We don’t know what you saw,” Nezu carefully interrupted, “but whatever it was wasn’t real. All Might never spoke to the press. We never received any demands from the League. UA would have never left a student with the League like that. We would have worked with heroes and police to get you back no matter the price. But we all thought you were dead.”

Confusion flooded Midoriya’s face. It looked as if he was warring with his desire to believe them and what he thought he knew to be true.

“How can I trust you? How do I know you’re not all just lying to me?”

Once again All Might was hurt that his protégé thought him capable of such monstrous deeds. The wizened hero leaned forward on his knees, desperately holding Midoriya’s gaze with his own. “When have I ever lied to you? Before you were taken did you ever have a moment when you thought I wouldn’t do everything in my power to protect you? Before you were taken did you ever have any reason to think I would leave you?”

Midoriya’s face crumpled, his expression twisting in a kaleidoscope of warring emotions. Confusion and lingering distrust were the strongest of them that All Might could identify. “… no? But that’s why it hurt so much when I heard you say those things. You left me. You left me! They put me in the dark and it was all your fault! I was so mad at you! And then he came… When he started messing with my head all I could do was blame you for leaving me with them. They kept saying they had to "reset” me. All because you refused to save me!“

All Might’s heart clenched with anguish. He had to physically fight himself not to grab Midoriya and draw him close – to physically squeeze away Midoriya’s hurt and prove he hadn’t abandoned the boy like Midoriya thought he did.

"I’m so sorry, Midoriya. I don’t know what you went through but it wasn’t because I abandoned you. I would have stopped at nothing to save you if I knew you were still alive. If it meant getting you back I would have gladly given my own life. I would never abandon you. I don’t know what the League said or showed you but it wasn’t real. I would have never willingly left you with them.”

Midoriya’s face crumpled and his head dropped against the front of his chest. Tears streamed down his cheeks and onto the front of his blood-splattered straightjacket. He slumped back against the wall as if he no longer had the energy or anger left to remain upright. To All Might, it almost looked like he was giving up and had been left empty in the wake of his tirade.

Nezu and Tsukauchi slowly came closer to stand beside All Might. Aizawa also relaxed his stance, letting his eyes close and his hair drift down around his face. At least for the moment, Midoriya did not appear to pose a threat. Perhaps they would finally be able to get more information on what Midoriya had gone through.

“How long was I gone?” Midoriya demanded in a watery voice. He sounded tired and drained.

All Might sorrowfully surveyed his broken student. “Two months. You’ve been gone for two months.”

Midoriya’s head snapped back up. He stared at them incredulously. Tears still glistened on his too-thin cheeks. “What? No. No, that’s impossible. I was gone for longer than that.”

Confusion once more engulfed the men.

“It’s true,” Tsukauchi said. “Shigaraki’s attack on the shopping mall where everyone thought you’d been killed was just about two months ago.”

Midoriya vigorously shook his head. “No! I was gone for years! Years! There’s no way I was only gone for two months.”

All Might was unsure how to respond. The boy’s confusion was not an act. It was genuine.

Tsukauchi carefully cleared his throat. “Sometimes people in captivity have their sense of time warped. Time seems to speed up or slow down exponentially. Especially if they’re placed in extreme isolation or left for extended periods of time in complete darkness.”

“I didn’t imagine being locked in a dark room and tortured for years!” Midoriya snapped. “It had to be longer than two months.”

Aizawa stepped forward and crouched down beside All Might in front of Midoriya. He removed his cell phone from his pocket and hit the power button. Holding it up to Midoriya he showed him the home screen with the time and date. “We’re not lying to you. It’s September 16th. You were only gone for two months. The shopping mall attack was on July 25th.”

Midoriya stared at the screen as if unable to comprehend what he saw.

All Might dug his own phone out of his back pocket and held it out to Midoriya. The same date and time showed on both their screens.

Following suite, Tsukauchi and Nezu also pulled out their phones and held them up for the boy’s inspection. Midoriya’s eyes darted back and forth between the devices as if trying to figure out how such a thing was possible.

Confusion washed over the boy’s face. New tears welled along the bottoms of his eyes. His lower lip began to tremble. “This… no… it’s not possible. I know what I felt. I…” Distraught green eyes drifted back to All Might. Midoriya beseechingly stared at him for answers. In that moment he reminded All Might of a lost and frightened child. “I-I don’t know what’s real anymore…” he admitted in a frightened whisper. Midoriya’s face crumpled and he dissolved into distraught sobs.

Seeing his student in so much pain and confusion, All Might could no longer stop himself. Long thin arms stretched out towards Midoriya and gently wrapped around his shoulders. The boy didn’t resist and even leaned forward slightly to meet the Symbol of Peace. He let himself be pulled into All Might’s embrace. Burying his face into the front of All Might’s shirt Midoriya began to angrily sob into the hero’s chest. All Might’s arms tightened around Midoriya and remained there like a protective shield. “It’s alright,” he murmured into the top of Midoriya’s head as the boy cried his heart and sanity out into the old hero’s chest. “It’s okay. I’ll keep you safe. I’m so sorry. I’ll keep you safe now. I won’t let anyone else hurt you. I promise.”

“I’m still mad at you!” Midoriya angrily wailed. “I thought you’d left me! They said you’d left me! They made me believe it was your fault I had to stay in the dark! But now I can’t even be mad about that! It’s not fair!”

“It’s alright. You can still be mad at me,” All Might offered, fighting back tears of his own. Regret and guilt tore at his heart. “I’m sorry I didn’t find you sooner. I’m so sorry. If it makes you feel better you can stay mad at me.”

Unfortunately, that only seemed to make Midoriya cry harder.

All Might didn’t know how long he held Midoriya, but it was awhile before the boy’s sobs finally abetted enough for All Might to feel it was okay to loosen his hold. All Might swiveled around to sit beside Midoriya against the wall. He kept one arm looped behind Midoriya’s back to keep him close.

Completely drained of energy, Midoriya let All Might hold him. To All Might’s further surprise, the boy actually slumped against his side and tentatively let his head rest against the hero’s bony shoulder. All Might instinctively held him closer, but whether for his sake or Midoriya’s he couldn’t say for certain. He’d wished to have the boy back for so long that to finally have him there in his arms now was surreal. His shirt was damp with Midoriya’s tears and snot, but All Might didn’t care. It meant everything that just happened was real and his protégé had come back to him. Maybe not as he’d been before. But Midoriya was no longer trying to kill him and in fact was willingly letting himself be held. All Might was certain a long road still lay ahead of them, but for now he was willing to accept this small gesture as progress.

As the two sat there – Midoriya still sniffling softly into the collar of his straightjacket – All Might felt him shiver against his side.

“Are you cold, my boy?”

Midoriya reluctantly nodded, his face down turned and expression utterly miserable.

“Can we get him a blanket?” All Might asked, looking up at Tsukauchi.

“Of course,” the police officer nodded. He went to the doorway of the cell and spoke in hushed tones with the guard there for several moments before returning to the group of teachers.

In the meantime All Might hugged Midoriya closer, offering him his own body heat. Midoriya hung his head, his face still red and wet with tears. He seemed to find some reluctant comfort in All Might’s embrace and huddled closer to the hero’s side.

“What did I do when Shigaraki brought me back?” Midoriya murmured. “I remember being at a train station. But then… everything went red. I don’t remember much of what I do after I see red…”

Tsukauchi crouched down beside the others. “There was a fight between you and All Might. Shigaraki was using you to draw All Might out for an attack.”

Midoriya was quiet for several moments, his eyes far away. “Did I hurt anyone?” he finally asked.

There was no immediate response from any of the adults. Several cautious glances were exchanged between them. Their silence was instantly noticed by Midoriya.

“Did I hurt anyone?” he insisted.

“Several student patrol members and UA teachers were also involved,” Nezu replied. “There were a couple injuries but nothing a short stay at the hospital won’t fix.” His upbeat tone was noticeably forced.

Midoriya sat there quietly, staring at the floor between his feet as if shifting through disjointed memories. “Kacchan was there, wasn’t he?”

Aizawa heaved a sigh. “He was. You and him went head to head. It’ll be awhile before his arm is out of a sling, but the doctors say he should eventually regain use of his hand.”

Midoriya seemed to shrink deeper into the depths of his straightjacket.

“It wasn’t your fault,” All Might insisted. “The League lied to you and was drugging you to attack people. No one is blaming you. Whatever you did wasn’t your fault.”

“But it was,” Midoriya softly murmured. “When I see red I don’t remember much afterwards. Just bits and pieces. Like flashes of a movie in my mind. But what I do remember of fighting Kacchan is that I wanted to hurt him. I wanted to make him feel pain like how he used to hurt me back in middle school. It wasn’t all because of what Shigaraki gave me. Some of that was me too. That stuff just makes it harder to say no to the things you’d never actually do any other time. It just makes you so.. angry. You remember everything bad the other person ever did to you and you just see red. You can’t think about anything else. All you want to do is hurt that other person. You want to rip them apart and make them bleed. When hewas in my head all I could remember were the bad things. Some of them were things I’d forgotten about until he made me remember. Sometimes I’d wake up from their "test runs” and my knuckles would be bloody from punching the floor because there was nothing else to hit.“

All Might was dismayed. He wasn’t quite sure what to say after such an admission. The sour feeling in the pit of his stomach churned. It made him physically sick to hear what suffering Midoriya had gone through. Doing the only thing he could think of, the hero hugged Midoriya closer.

At that moment, the guard returned with a thick grey blanket. Tsukauchi took it and shook it out over Midoriya. With All Might’s help they tucked the edges around the boy. It was prison issue and scratchy, but it was heavy and warm. Once successfully bundled in it, Midoriya leaned against All Might’s side again as though suddenly exhausted.

But the adults were not ready to let his rest just yet. There were still so many questions they had.

"What did the League do to you while you were with them?” Tsukauchi asked. All Might could tell the officer was slipping into interrogation mode now. He wanted to get as much information as he could while the teen was still willing to talk. “You mentioned there being a "him” that messed with your head. Who are you talking about? Shigaraki?“

Midoriya squirmed underneath the blanket, suddenly reluctant to meet any of their eyes.

"No. Not Shigaraki…” he hesitantly mumbled after a lengthy pause. “Shigaraki brought someone else in to work on me. Another member of the League. He…” Midoriya trailed off, a panicked look creeping into his eyes. He voice trembled. His lower lip began to quiver. “H-he…” Whether from fear or an overwhelming rush of bad memories, he didn’t seem able to find the words.

Nezu stepped closer and rested a paw on Midoriya’s blanketed knee. “It’s alright, Midoriya,” he soothed. “We don’t have to talk about any of that right now. Right, Officer Tsukauchi?”

Tsukauchi nodded, though with a hint of disappointment. “Yes. We can wait to talk about that later.”

Nezu offered Midoriya a warm smile. “We’re just so happy to have you back. We were so worried about you.” He glanced at Tsukauchi and Aizawa. “Now that Midoriya seems to be calmed and not about to attack anyone, perhaps we can see about removing this straightjacket and moving him to a better location where he can properly lay down and rest?”

Tsukauchi considered that. “I’ll have to speak to the warden but I don’t see why n-”

“No!” Midoriya blurted out. His eyes were wide and panicked. He cringed back against the wall. “Don’t take it off! I don’t trust myself! If I see red again I don’t know what might happen. I don’t want to hurt anyone else.”

The adults all froze, startled by the vehemence of Midoriya’s protests.

All Might gently hugged Midoriya closer. “My boy, we removed Shigaraki’s control device from your neck. He can’t use that serum on you anymore.”

“I don’t care! Don’t take it off yet! I can’t control myself when I see red. I can’t risk it!”

Nezu was the first to regain his composure. “Alright, Midoriya,” he placated in his unflappably calm way. “We can leave it on a bit longer if it makes you feel safer. But at least let’s see about getting you cleaned up a bit, hm? You surely must want a bath after everything you’ve been through. And then maybe some food?”

Midoriya at first seemed startled by the idea, as though the offer of a bath and a meal were luxuries he hadn’t even considered until now. Shakily, he nodded his head. He didn’t seem capable of words at that moment but gratefulness shined in his eyes.

Nezu patted Midoriya’s knee again. “Is there anything else we can do for you?” he asked.

Midoriya was quiet for a long moment of silence. Finally, he whispered in an almost inaudible voice, “Can… can I see my mom? She must be so worried about me. I really miss her.”

All Might was glad Midoriya couldn’t see his face from where he sat because the Symbol of Peace felt heartbroken tears sting his eyes. He kept forgetting just how young Midoriya was.

Tsukauchi nodded. The officer couldn’t quite seem to meet Midoriya’s eyes either. “Yes. Of course. We’ll get her here as soon as possible. I promise.”

Midoriya seemed to shrink back down underneath the blanket against All Might. All Might tightened his hold around the boy if for no other reason to reassure Midoriya he was still there. Midoriya wordlessly leaned into him.

“In the meantime,” Nezu announced, “let’s see about upgrading out pupil’s accommodations. Aizawa, All Might. Can you continue to keep watch over Midoriya?”

“Of course,” Aizawa nodded.

“I’m not going anywhere,” All Might said as if swearing an oath. Now that he had Midoriya back he would not let him go again without a fight. No matter what the League had done to him he would see to it that Midoriya found his way back to the light.

[survivorbehemoth]

Episode #9: “i hope that i'm out of the pickle and eating the... pickle” - Daisy

how i feel about merge: https://66.media.tumblr.com/68a1cf13a1ea5ca8ec0c6c8a044f92ad/fdb9160ed3342b6d-08/s500x750/a71a511c4f332aba10424d15b5e074bc9bbe5e0d.gifv

Click HERE to watch Szymon’s Video!

Click HERE to watch Daisy’s Video!

Click HERE to watch Chips’ Video!

Click HERE to listen to Szymon’s Vocaroo!

Click HERE to view Szymon’s Trust Rankings!

Click HERE to listen to Szymon’s Vocaroo!

Click HERE to listen to Szymon’s Vocaroo!

Click HERE to watch Daisy’s Video!

Click HERE to watch Rob’s Video! Click HERE to watch another of Rob’s Videos!

So here is my i guess merge confessional! LOOK WHAT I DID! I MADE THE MERGE HEHEHEHEHEHEHE. Voting cindi out last round was very sad but very needed, i think she was looking to have fun and cause chaos but i need some stability in my life rn, crackhead seamus has not came out yet and he can’t yet LMAO. so what happened is as soon as we merged Szymon approached me and wanted to call, and pretty much went on a rant about how annoying Rob is and how everyones so far up his ass, and that HE HAS THE IDOL!!!! And that Szymon wants me daisy and jules to start working together which i was like OH I LIKE THIS. Going into merge i wanted to reconnect with rob, and then keep my alliances with daisy and gage and try and just use them as shields to get into deep merge and then start causing shit.

In terms of my thoughts on everyone…. Gage i am very torn about. Because he is the person i am closest to on a personal level but i think game wise he just is rlly desperate to not lose. I offered him a f2 on our last tribe which i do intend on keeping my word on, but then as soon as we merge i just felt kinda off about him? And he formed a new alliance with Szymon Rob and Conor and didnt say nothing to me or tried to include me. Szymon leaked it tho and so im like oh ok i see i see. I think he is trying to have his hand in everyones cookie jar, but knowing he wants everything is off putting from an ally stance. But also last night he opened up a bit with me and i think he genuinely does wanna work with me, just perhaps not with Daisy. so i am trying to figure out like what is the right move with Gage, is he someone who can actually commit? and will he defend me if people like rob or conor suggest voting me? idk, but i hope he would.

Daisy: my relationship with Daisy is really strong. I think we have a lot in common personally and game wise we mesh really well. Coming in from embb10 i wasnt sure how we would work together but so far so good. everyday she makes me laugh and i want to keep working with her. Supposedly people are painting us two as a duo but i also think if people targeted us they would choose Daisy over me at this point which means i can embrace and keep working with her however openly i wish. Daisy i think also wants to more so work with Szymon and Jules which is fine by me. I think us 3/4 can work really well, it’s just about finding the right time to possibly take a shot at someone.

Szymon: i wasnt sure how i felt about Szymon at the beginning. Sometimes i thought he was annoying, other times i just thought he was being himself which i sometimes just dont vibe with. But him being really honest about his opinions with people shows that he actually is someone i can work with. i am a blunt person and when others are willing to throw mud too, it means we can work well together. I think he is very eager to vote out Rob and also doesnt want to work with Gage which i’m not 100% sure what my plan is yet regarding both.

Rob: rob is a big threat but only because he is so blatantly talking to everyone. dont get me wrong Rob is a great guy, but he isn’t a great ally just because he talks to me. I also know that he has the idol and clearly I aint the top of his ally list since he didnt include me in the one with gage szymon and conor and he also didnt tell me about his idol. Also every inactive person talking to him is not good bc i dont want his farmer ass to let his sheep target me. I think Rob may go home very early and he wont even see it coming.

chips/brandan: we arent working together. that’s about it.

Conor: we became a bit closer during the swap but i certainly wouldnt say he is an ally. more like a neutral friend. i think conor plans on working with gage/rob/szymon. which doesnt include me. But i dont think he has many other connections such as with dylan or daisy or jules. so im not sure how much he’ll be doing anytime soon.

Lovelis: he seems pretty inactive. itll be interesting to see if i can use our pre-established friendship to kinda pull him in and work with him but i also dont know who he plans on working with or doing. very nice and everyone agrees when he is on he is fun to talk to, its just about activity levels and trying to see if he actually is here to play or not.

Dylan: I LIKE DYLAN. BUT HE ALSO LEFT ME ON READ FOR LIKE 16 HOURS NOW LMAO. He was super fun to talk to on our tribe game night, and then in pms but then he kinda ghosted me but continued to talk in the tribe chat. granted i got rlly sloppy drunk last night so when he was free to talk more i wasnt ;/ So ill be interested to see if we can keep vibing, im defnitely open to working with him bc he seems like he would be fun to strategize and work with, but we aren’t necessarily at that point yet.

Jules: juuuules!!!!! amazing, fantastic, the best. but also not the most active. im interested in working with her and i think she appreciates me being crazy and i appreciate her being crazy too. also she is the main reason i won this challenge SOOOOOO. I think me szymon and daisy have a great opportunity to work with her and form a tight 4 if thats the path we choose to go down. Jules is here for fun and to socialize with people and i think some people are off putted by that but i thinks its fine, i just hope we have fun doing crazy stuff together and not against one another :D

THATS IT! MY MERGE CAST ASSESSMENT.

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SO I WON IMMUNITY! HEHEHEHEHEHEHE WHICH IS KINDA EMBARRASING SINCE I ONLY ASKED 2 PEOPLE FOR THEIR WORDS, AND THEN DAISY/JULES/SZYMON GAVE ME THE REST. Honk honk i love sharing, this is what communism is all about! But being immune first is kinda a great thing because it really puts you in a firm spot and allows/forces people to strategize with you. since i am unsure if i can attend tribal/live night it also provides some much needed security early on. i am hoping chips goes home at this first tribal which seemingly everyone is on board with. And then id prefer brandan or lovelis to go in live night. But i think Szymon and Daisy will want to vote for Rob. I am not sure if i want to take that shot yet because it might hurt my chances of working with Gage, but also leaves several more inactive people in. if i was confident people like lovelis and brandan would follow rob out the door that would be one thing, but i think it would make people like conor/gage possibly start targeting szymon/daisy/myself and that isnt a good thing. especially if we can wait to f9, and have 5 directly on rob and he goes home and then theres less potential for us getting outvoted

Click HERE to watch Daisy’s Video!

Click HERE to watch Dylan G’s Video!

I know I have been sending only really text confessionals right now and I am REALLY sorry about that, since pretty much a lot of my life has FINALLY FUCKING CLEARED UP I can actually start doing them, butttt since I'm a procrastinator on all sense of the word I'm just gonna type something here and be done with it okay?

Anyways, MERRRRGGGEE! I am fucking SHOCKED that I have made it this far. Keep in mind I really don't think that I would have had any issues getting to the merge keep in mind. Other than the shit I was going through early game and then with some other stuff I feel relatively blessed to be here. I made some connections on my swapped tribe which helped me stay around, and then afterwards I pretty much like... I'm here! I wanted to try and win as many challenges as I could just to help me get by, but then again I'm not the most TALKATIVE person in the world so whatever, I'm planning on fixing that now.

ANYWAYS going into live night I am worried. I was playing three games at once including this WHILE working and BEFORE I got COVID so that was.... okay that wasn't really that fun but still WHATEVER I TRIED GURL OKAY? And from the looks of it the first round should be easy with a relative chips boot which I am fine with. The second round though? That's where the primary issue lies. The only name I heard relative to that is potentially lovealis which I am down with. I got Jules who is a Brandan STAN, my Coco loco alliance with daisy/szymon, and other connections I have made with people like rob. Since after Chips leaves we're in the Final 10 during live night that's easier for my mental sanity. and with me/daisy/szymon/rob/jules, that is already HALF the votes. So I feel... good.

I did not succeed at the social queen immunity.

A social queen i am not.

I was told the vote would be me... so I packed my bags.

Then... a LONG time later they want to blindside Rob. I say okay, I'm down knowing I trust no one so trying to hold on to my smallest sliver of hope that this isn't an elaborate lie.

Then we get live round! If I make it that far I'm ready to party!

Click HERE to watch Gage’s Video!

Click HERE to watch Rob’s Final Words

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Rob is voted out 6-3-1. He becomes the first member of our jury. We then have LIVE NIGHT! At live night, Lovelis goes home 9-1 and becomes the second member of our jury.

Watch the Cast Assessment for this Episode and last Episode below:

[jonahbex]

Get to Know the Friendom Tag

(first off can i just say it’s adorable that we’re calling ourselves the friendom, i love it sm)

A big thank you to @the-suitelife-of-disneychannel for tagging me! 😄

Favorite Andi Mack character:
 Buffy for sure. I love her bc she’s so fearless and confident, and that’s an important role model for young women of color to have. Back when I was Disney Channel’s target demographic age (I’m 18 now), Raven from That’s So Raven had a huge impact on me and made me want to be myself, so I’m glad there’s a character like Buffy on Disney Channel right now teaching young girls that it’s okay to love themselves and own it even when they’re only 13 years old. Is that your all-time favorite? If not, then list that here:
 My all time favorite character is Riley Matthews from Girl Meets World. I see so much of myself in her, from the way she stands up for her beliefs and does what is right, to the way she tends to be naive and trusting, seeing the good in people. One of my favorite things about her is that she is shown multiple times trying to make people into what she expects them to be, and I can relate bc I have the same problem. I love that she’s wonderful and strong but also realistically flawed. Favorite Andi Mack cast member?
 Idk much about the cast; I don’t follow them on any social media except Josh here on tumblr. So I guess I pick Josh, he seems pretty cool 😊 All-time favorite cast member? If not list them: 
 I know this is getting repetitive, BUT I LOVE ROWAN BLANCHARD. She’s so woke and amazing at such a young age. She’s an activist and an intersectional feminist, she stands up for marginalized groups and goes after what she wants. I truly love her so much and look up to her even though she is younger than me. I hope to someday raise a daughter just like Rowan Blanchard. Original reaction to the show:
 I originally watched the show bc I saw a gifset on tumblr, then read an article and thought it was so cool that Disney Channel was going to address teen pregnancy. So I knew the plot twist before I watched the first episode. Tbh I was super unimpressed with the show at first, like after reading about it I was really disappointed watching the first episode, bc to me the acting felt so stale and badly paced. BUT I decided to give it another try bc I really wanted to support the show bc of how important it could be to Disney Channel, and after watching the second episode, I concluded that the acting and pacing would get better as the season went on, and then after watching the third episode I was hooked. Current reaction to the show: I’m just a little bit addicted. I keep wanting to binge watch the whole season but it’s not out yet, and tbh I’ve looked through those free TV websites for leaked episodes but there are none. The “next time on Andi Mack” thing is really effective bc there’s a bombshell dropped every episode and the preview makes you want to keep going.
 Favorite Andi Mack Plot Line: BEX AND BOWIE!!! Their scene together in episode 8 was my favorite, like Bowie is so sweet and he wants to be back in her life and help raise Andi, but Bex is obviously trying to avoid talking about it (the pizza trick again), and I n e e d to see how this ends. And I also kind of want to know where it started. I just want more Bowex overall.
 Least Favorite Andi Mack character: Idk if I have one? Like I kind of like most of the characters equally. And it feels like the only real choice here is Amber, but her character really bugs me bc of how she is written. So far (up to episode 8), she is a one-dimensional character. The writers only ever show her as a bad person who does horrible things to Andi and insults people and fucks with a middle school boy’s emotions, but they never show any of the reasons behind her actions. She was created as the stereotypical, pretty, “cool” mean girl who is only around to serve as a foil to the awkward, kind, unconfident main character; Disney Channel does this all the time and I’m kind of sick of it. Amber needs depth. We need to know why she’s clinging to Jonah (despite CHEATING on him), abusing him, threatening people, and just overall antagonizing others. The closest thing we got to depth with her was the one time Jonah mentioned to Andi that Amber is insecure, but that’s not good enough. I need a plotline around Amber’s insecurity. I need the writers to show that people act a certain way because of their personal issues or circumstances, not because they are inherently evil. Maybe she has home problems and that’s why she goes after Andi so hard about her family??? Maybe her father has been absent most of her life too? I need some character development with Amber. I’m not satisfied blindly hating her.
 All-time least favorite character? If not list them here: I can’t think of any characters I hate right now.
 Upcoming Andi Mack episodes I’m worried about: I’m sure this is on everybody’s mind, but how are they going to show Cyrus questioning his sexuality? It’s Disney Channel, so I really don’t want to get my hopes up, but I really hope it doesn’t turn out like Beauty and the Beast with that blink-and-you’ll-miss-it gay rep with Le Fou. Like, if I were a heterosexual and not specifically looking for signs that Le Fou was gay, I probably wouldn’t have noticed it at all. I’m worried that the same thing will happen to Cyrus, where since we’re all looking for him to be gay, we’ll jump for joy when they start dropping subtle clues, when in reality, the plotline does nothing to teach kids about LGBTQ people bc it goes right over their heads. Like I can’t see Disney Channel airing an episode where Cyrus explicitly says that he’s attracted to boys, let alone uses the word “gay,” but that’s exactly what young questioning kids need to hear: truth and validation. In addition, I’m worried that even if it explicitly comes out that Cyrus has a crush on Jonah, there will not be a happy ending for him. Andi is the main character, and as per Disney Channel rules, the main girl always ends up with the guy she likes. So even though Cyrus likes Jonah, he’ll never get to be with him, and he’ll just be another add-on to the list of queer characters who suffer from unrequited love, whose queerness is only used as a plot point to show struggling. No matter what, I feel like the Cyrus sexuality plotline will not play out well, either from being too subtle or from being unnecessarily sad. Sorry, I kind of ranted on those last two! Anyway, I’m tagging: @tritagonist @margotandthemoon @youtuber-positivity @moonshapedwaffles @zayadorah @andi-shack @unidentifiedgayobject @universe-melody


[xavierfiles-blog]

Entry 075 - Doop

Art by Mike and Laura Allred

Name: Doop

Code Names: Doop

First Appearance: X-Force #116 (July ’01)

Powers: Is there anything he can’t do?

Teams Affiliation: X-Force, X-Men

About

Comics are weird. No, weird isn’t a descriptive enough word. Some comics are gritty, straightforward, planted firmly in reality. Some are epic tales of gods, monsters, swords and sorcery. Others are vibrant sci-fi adventures with roguish heroes and dastardly villains. Others still are stories of hope, the importance of a single man who decides to make a difference in the world. What shared universe superhero comics allow is the synthesis, the blending of these ideas into one world. In that world, Grant Morrison can relaunch X-Men as a sensible subculture of mutants protecting a world much like our own. And at the same time, in the same franchise, in the same line, you can have Peter Milligan and Mike Allred introduce their pop art skewering of reality TV celebrity culture. This bizarre, paradoxical world is the only place Doop could exist, and we are all better for it.

You might need this

No one is quite sure where Doop came from. Some say he was created by the US government at the height of the Cold War to combat the Communist menace. Others say acclaimed Swedish filmmaker Ingmar Bergman drew in the margins of his script for The Seventh Seal and he was willed into being. The exact mechanism of his creation didn’t much matter, Doop simply was. He left home at a young age to practice his art, documentary filmmaking and was met with critical acclaim. He took many lovers, saying both male and female would be too restrictive for Doop, and met many friends, including a close bond with Wolverine, but he wasn’t fulfilled. He therapist encouraged him to broaden his horizons past the arty, European documentaries he was making and set his sights on Hollywood.

Art by Federico Santagati and Laura Allred

After a messy affair on a casting couch, Doop got a job documenting the adventures of the new X-Force. It was a cultural sensation. The team showed what happens when superheroes stop being polite and start getting real, and audiences ate it up. Merchandise adorned with Doop’s image flew off the shelves. Doop plushies were the hot toy at Christmas. As long as Doop kept the camera rolling, his residuals kept rolling in too. Doop was there recording everything when X-Force shocked the world. An attempt to save the pop group Boyz R Us went south and Doop, U-Go Girl, and the rookie Anarchist were the only surviving members of the team.

Art by Mike and Laura Allred

Doop stayed behind the camera to chronical the misadventures of this new team. He was drawn into the action when he popped a pimple on his head that sucked the members of X-Force into the mind of Doop. He dove into the cavity in his own body to rescue his cash cows from the nightmares that lurked in the mind of Doop. The mind of Doop is hard to put into words. It is absurdist, post-modern, cartoony and it is both all and none of those things at the same time. It was truly a world unlike any other.

Art by Mike and Laura Allred

Doop continued his filming as X-Force became X-Statix. He opened Doop Kiddies Hospital and got rid of the bodies that X-Statix happened to accumulate. He teamed up with his old buddy Wolverine to go on a noir caper and added drama to X-Statix by leaking an incriminating tape featuring El Guapo. Russian terrorist captured Doop and used his brain attack X-Statix. This drew the attention of The Avengers whose intervention caused pieces of the mind of Doop to be spread across the globe. Doop survived thanks to the backup brain in his butt and X-Statix battled the Avengers for the pieces of his brain. Doop himself got in on the action, battling Thor to a standstill. X-Statix restored their friend but the team decided to close up shop. Some say they were killed in a hail of gunfire, others say they simply retreated into the margins to be forgotten. Whatever the case, the X-Statix were no more.

Art by Mike and Laura Allred

Polaris claimed to see a creature who looked like Doop. A creature known as Daap who never spoke a word, but it was a difficult thing to verify. When the island nation of Utopia was formed, Wolverine dreamed that his lost friend oversaw enforcement the law. Or perhaps Doop dreamed of that dream. Regardless, Wolverine enlisted Doop to work at the Jean Grey School. The faculty often questioned his role there, as well as his subversive lifestyle, but Logan knew the reason. Seducing the members of the school board or battling Satan himself with the power of funk, Doop was the school’s protector. If the League of Nazi Bowlers wanted to attack, he would strike before they could. If an alien invasion needed thwarting, he would team up with Howard the Duck to push them back. He was the hero that Westchester needed, but not the one it deserved. He was a silent guardian, a watchful protector, the Doop knight.

Art by Mike and Laura Allred

During his tenure at the school, the original five X-Men were brought to the present. This made a lot of people very angry and was widely regarded as a bad move. In the midst of the X-Men trying to send them back to their own timeline, Doop confessed his love to their mentor, Kitty Pryde. He floated down on one knee and presented her with a ring made of rancid meat. She was confused, disgusted, and intrigued. To prove his love, Doop took Kitty to his home. It was the place between panels, the margins of the book, the world that begins where the story stops, it was Doopspace. They ate at Chateau Du Armpit Hair, watched The Cinema of Emptiness, and played games at the carnival of chaos. He asked Kitty to be irrational, to feel with her heart and not think about it. Doop let Kitty return to the story and stayed in the margins where he discovered that a future version of the Brotherhood of Evil Mutants had infiltrated the X-Men. He darted into action but was held back when Raze threatened to reveal a dark secret he learned from Doop’s mother.

Art by David Lafuente and Laura Allred

Doop was faced with his greatest fear, but after a pep talk, he decided to face Mama Doop and finally understand his past. Now Doop had long subscribed to the belief that he was created when Ingmar Bergman scribbled in the margins of his script for The Seventh Seal, but the truth was that Bergman didn’t create him. Mama Doop blamed Doop’s creation on Papa Doop leaving their family, she told him that he ruined their marriage and he couldn’t argue because he had never seen his parent together. The truth sent Doop into a mental breakdown that was only stopped by his buddy Wolverine defeating Mama Doop and getting the actual truth from her. She revealed that Doop came from a race of asexually reproducing hermaphrodites, Mama Doop and Papa Doop were one in the same.

He and Kitty had a heart to heart about the revelation and Doop rescinded his offer of marriage. Kitty tried to talk him back into it but Doop revealed his grand gambit. Doop really just wanted to help Kitty make a decision she never thought she could. Kitty didn’t want the original X-Men to go back, not if it wasn’t on their own terms. Kitty stood against the school she loved and the friends she cherished to help her X-Men. And Doop? Doop returned to the margins where he remains today.

Art by Duncan Fegredo

Must Read

There are two issues to sum up the mystery that is Doop. One is a silent issue of X-Force that revels in the pop art absurdity that built the character and the other is a day in the life of the X-Men’s floating green potato. Wolverine & the X-Men #17 is a respite from the chaos of Avengers Vs X-Men tie-ins, simply showing what Doop does at the school. With beautiful art by creator Mike Allred, and Jason Aaron writing his peak zany goodness, it is a fantastic one shot that is worth the time.

Ary by Mike and Laura Allred

Ranking

I am going to upset people with how high Doop is going to go. The more I read and researched for this article, the more I remembered how much I love Doop. He is an X-Men character unlike any other. He is the absurdity of Mister Mxyzptlk combined with the marking potential of Slimer. He is a statement of intent for the X-Statix era and a continuing reminder to not try and make sense about X-Men. I think the closest character on the list to Doop is Dr. Nemesis and I get more excited by seeing Doop float around in the background. Psylocke is probably a better written character than Doop but I don’t think Old Man Logan is even close. That makes Doop the new number 8 in the Xavier Files.

Doop was requested by /u/RussisanOkayGuy and others. Thank you for the request. If you have a request for how about you send it below? If you want to cut to the front of the two-year long line, we have a Patreon you can support Xavier Files for just $1 to get a line cutting reward.

Click here if you want to see the full ranked list, with links to every entry in the Xavier Files so far.

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Next week I guess it is Shatterstar!

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Entry Key

Entry 075 – Doop was originally published on Xavier Files

[funeral-clown]

my shitty star wars au ch 23 aka kylo ren needs to chill

for @jinxkatkazama this time happy birthday

still you too tho 

While the Festival was a week long, time and the resurrection of a caste of magical warrior space monks waited for no one(at least according to Master Luke). Rey boarded the Falcon with Chewie, leaving her broken-hearted companions behind with promises to Scrype.

As usual, when she returned to the temple Luke was waiting for her, cape flowing dramatically.

“This is some kriffing bullshit,” Rey deadpanned. “There’s not even any wind today. You’re using the Force.”

“Never underestimate the usefulness of a good entrance, my young padawan. And watch your language.”

“No.”

Luke shrugged before leading her into the temple.

Once inside, the apprentice headed for her room to unpack.

“What will we be studying today, Ma-” she stopped mid-sentence, words freezing in her throat, choking her breath.

The main hall was filled with candles, dripping wax down the walls and tables and sconces onto the floor. She stared at the glow, watching the small lights flicker in the gloom of the temple. There had to be hundreds of white candles, creating this vast sea of fire.

“M-Master?”

Luke stepped quietly behind her.

“When you have lived as long as I have, as fiercely as I have, you tend to lose a lot of people.”

“Who were they?”

“All of them? That could take some time. Suffice it to say you know who the blue one is for, and the green. The yellow, too. But the white? Well, might as well go down the list.”

The room seemed to spin around her, the small waving souls burning brighter and brighter in an attempt to blind her to anything else. Rey could barely hear her masters’ words. They still bled through.

“This big one is for Alderaan. As much as Leia wold like, we can’t light a candle for everyone on that planet or the entire island would be covered. We still light two for her parents, though, just there. And those are for the first Rogue One, who get her the plans for the Death Star. Bohdi Rook was one hell of a pilot. This one is for Galen Erso, who leaked them in the first place. That one is for my good friend Biggs, and next to him are my aunt and uncle. Those are for my former students. On this pedestal over here are my parents, Obi-Wan, and Han. Over there is Wedge Antilles. He died well. I put him with the old Red Squadron. Most of these are for Rebellion members, actually. Shara Bey and her husband, Kes, are right there-”

His voice droned on as Rey stood silently, feeling the despair and loss that permeated the room surround her, filling her head, filling her heart, filling her lungs. She couldn’t breathe...

Panicking, she lashed out with the Force, searching for something stable, something strong, something-Leia. Leia was there, was always there even though her planet was burned to dust before her eyes and all of her friends and family were gone and she saw soldier after soldier fall and it was too much, everything was too much and she had to protect her. Rey had to protect Leia she had to keep her safe and alive so the closest thing she had to a mother wouldn’t become another small flickering light in a desert of death. The apprentice could feel the Force whispering to her as she concentrated all of her energy on Leia, pushed all of her will into Don’t let her die, please, not ever, let her be safe and healthy and whole, could hear Anakin, could hear Obi-Wan, could hear a voice she knew had to be Han, could hear thousands of soldiers torn into stardust in the cold and glittering void by cold and glittering ships with flashes of red, white, green, pain all of it was pain colors of agony that had to be worth it because of freedom, because of hope, because of Leia, all pushing the screaming instinct to preserve, to protect into Rey as she focused on Leia’s presence with all of her being.

Something happened. She wasn’t sure what, because she had hit the floor by the time it was over. Her last thoughts before closing her eyes and surrendering to the dark was that the stone was surprisingly cool, considering the world was on fire.

*meanwhile in the super secret rebel base*

General Leia Organa paused while walking to her quarters. A pleasant warm feeling filled her bones. She felt better than she had in months, since her husband had died and her son had lost his soul.

Sighing, Leia continued walking. She was going to have some tea.

*back on Jedi Island*

Rey groaned as she came too, staring at the ceiling of her eyelids as she allowed herself to fully return to consciousness.

“You startled me a bit, there, Rey.”

The padawan sighed, registering the voice.

“Hello, Kylo.”

“You know, I always said you were powerful. And I mean, duh, I meant it, but this? This takes the fucking cake, Rey.”

“What the fuck are you talking about.”

“Do you have any idea what just happened? I mean aside from broadcasting your panic attack to the entire universe?”

“Make sense or make dead.”

“Fair enough. You just channeled the Force, Rey.”

“No kidding, dipshit.”

“No, I mean you straight up bent that shit. It was the sickest thing I ever felt.”

“I guess I know why Jedi are supposed to suppress their emotions now.”

“Because it makes them insanely powerful?”

“Because it makes them insane. Case in point.”

“Ouch. I’m hurt.”

“Your dad says hi. Also you’re a dick.”

“Sounds like him.”

“That was just me,actually. He said you’re a fucked up little emo bitchbaby cockwaffle.”

“Sounds even more like him.”

“Go away, Ren.”

There was a pause.

“Yeah, ok.”

She sat up and opened her eyes. Luke was sitting in the corner, watching her. His face was casually neutral.

“Are you alright, kid?”

“Yes, Master.”

“That’s good. You made my sister immortal.”

“What?”

“Well, I say you. Actually, it was more like you and a fuckton of ghosts.”

A heavy silence blanketed the room. 

“Can anything be done about it?”

Luke shrugged. “No, not really. It was in the will of the Force. The Force ripped you a new one as a conduit to do it, too. You sure you’re ok?”

“Yes.”

“Alright then.” The older Jedi rose to leave.

“That’s it?”

“Yup. Nothing anyone can do. Fail to see how it could directly affect the plot or anything. Seems like an unstable emotional outburst combined with a lot of support and feeling made Leia immortal. The Force is strange. There have been immortal Sith before, and at least one immortal Jedi who eats the bones of all the other Jedi when they have died, so it’s not like there’s no precedence.” 

“No. Leia’s just immortal now. She just is.”

“Yep. Pretty much.”

“And I’m not going to get a lecture about containing my emotions?”

“You were unconscious for three days. It seems like overkill.”

“Well. Okay, then.”

“Okay, then.”

She stretched her limbs out, slowly, before rising.

“I think I get why you like your incense so much now, Master.”

“I’ll bet you do. Want some hot chocolate? Lando left some when he left.”

“I would love some.”

[coincidencetheories]

Guess Who’s Coming to Amonkhet?

Part  2

A continuation of my look at the likely cast of Amonkhet, Planeswalker by Planeswalker (find Part 1 Here)

Jace Beleren

Appearance in Story: No question. After co-starring in Shadows Over Innistrad and Eldritch Moon, he’s certainly going to get more ‘screen time’ than Kaladesh and Aether Revolt. Why is not clear yet, and he is likely to take a back seat in the first set behind LIliana and Gideon, at a guess, coming to the fore when it comes to try and start confronting Bolas directly, mind to mind, strategy to strategy. (I don’t think he’s going to win, btw)

Card in Block Almost certainly. My guess is Hour of Devastation, because Gideon and Liliana are more likely to front-line the first set for balance and ‘timing’ reasons, but I would be surprised if Jace doesn’t get a card in this block. If so, he’s going to be squarely front and centre for the Fall/Winter 2017 block.

Karn

Appearance in Story: You know what? There is a possibility. We know Karn is travelling the multiverse, trying to retrace his steps, hoping to cleanse the worlds he visited of the phyrexian oil his Heartstone was leaking. No reason Amonkhet wasn’t one of them, although that would complicate things for Bolas, as well as the Gatewatch significantly. But Karn is definitely someone who could return at any time, wnadering through a story, adding the shadow of potential Phyrexian contagion to any plane.

Card in Block  I would certainly expect him to have a card if he appeared. Being colorless, it’s probably that he has more of a chance once the Eldrazi move out, as there is already powerful late game colorless options for every deck,but there is no reason that Karn couldn’t appear. If he does, my thought is an appearance in the second set.

Kaya

Appearance in Story: Another wildcard, but this would be surprising. After making a splash on Fiora by killing the no-so-eternal-shade of King Brago, then moonwalking out the door with a mic-drop, She has no current ties or obligations. With Sorin otherwise engaged, Kaya is the go-to White-Black walker if needed for balance.

Card in Block It’s possible that someone like Kaya, who was first showcased in a supplemental set and well received, gets an appearance in this set without a card, with creative looking to keep her current or introducing her to those who don’t pay attention to the supplemental sets. I don’t think this is a *good* idea, but I think, following in Dack Fayden model of being a crowd favorite without managing to make it into another set for an extended period of time.

Kiora

Appearance in Story:  Highly unlikely. Served her primary narrative purpose by at times helping and at times hindering the efforts of Jace and Gideon to trap Ulamog, and retake Sea-Gate. Another wild-card walker, she is able to appear at any time for any reason, be it story, color balance or mechanics. Or be left out for the same reason. She stole some scenes in Battle for Zendikar (throwing an ocean at Jace, anyone?), and Amonkhet seems like a bad fit for her.  Story wise, I’m fairly sure she’s busy re-settling the surviving Mer-Folk (or getting in their way) so I would be *very* surprised. Card in Block: Again, if she appears in Amonkhet’s story she’s more than likely to get a card, because they needed her for color reasons more than story.

Koth

Appearance in Story: No. Koth is stuck on MIrrodin New Phyrexia, last seen in the Conspiracy 2 card, a new-art of Phyrexian arena, still fighting for his life. While confirmation of the ‘present’ nature of that card was always vague, it seems that he continues to lead whatever resistance the Mirrans still offer. As always, if creative want them in the block, creative will have them. But i think the next few blocks have enough plot hooks that Koth will most likely wait until just before, or just after the Elspeth-returns-or-is-rescued storyline, either kicking it off, or paying it off. Card in Block No. If Koth appears, he’s most likely just there to give the Gatewatch their next quest. Imagine the guy at the end of Back to the Future 2, who gives Marty the quest to rescue Doc from the wild west. That would be Koth in this block, if he appears.

Liliana

Appearance in Story: What’s more certain than certain? Then that. The Gatewatch are going to Amonkhet, and Razaketh the third of her four Pact demons, is here. How much is she going to tell the gatewatch? what happens when the choice comes down to stopping Bolas or killing Razaketh? These and more questions beckon.Likely to be the ‘lead’ Gatewatch member in one or more of the sets. Card in Block: Again, lock that in. Like Jace, she’s reasonably due for a card, but unlike jace, she’s easily the Gatewatch member with the most ties to Amonkhet. There is a possibility if she plays more of a part at the crisis point of the block that we wait until Hour of Devastation for her to appear.

Nahiri

Appearance in Story: Next to no chance. She played out Medea to Sorin’s Jason in Shadows over Innistrad. Unlikely to return until at or just before a Zendikar resurgent block, as  she has a full copy of pre-eldrazi devastation Zendikar in her head, and I feel that this will come into play to restore Zendikar to Wizard’s desired Adventure World once again. Card in Block No. No story, no card.

Narset

Appearance in Story: Narset does not seem to me to be someone who pops in and out of the story. Hopefully we get more information of the Story circle that Tamiyo and Ajani both seem to be a part of, and so Narset is most likely to appear in conjunction with a storyline that involves them. Card in Block No. Like Koth, Narset’s appearance in story is likely to be as a herald for a new plot, or as an ancillary character when the Story Circle appear in a heroic rescue, neither of which guarantee her a card.

Nicol Bolas

Appearance in Story: Look, Almost definitely. I can imagine only a single chance, a world where the Gatewatch comes to fight Bolas, finds only a scheme of his, and defeats it without Bolas appearing at all. This would be attempting to play against expectations of those who are trying to guess the stories coming up. But there is much that is made of playing *into* the expectation of players rather than against it, so it’s the slimmest of chances. Card in Block: Yes. Unless Dark Intimations from Aether Revolt is the most long-play double-bluff, there will be a Bolas Plansewalker. I think in Hour of Devastation, as the literature and hints we’re getting talk about the ‘imminent’ return of the God-Pharoah Bolas.

Nissa

Appearance in Story: Guranteed. The Gatewatch are there, Nissa is exploring what it means to be green, although not in so many words. And the different ways that each plane can be ‘natural’ without being a wilderness. I think that Amonkhet will offer her a deeper look at the life and death cycles where Black meets Green. Card in Block: Unlikely. With the Planeswalker deck, Kaladesh and Oath of the Gatewatch, Nissa, like Chandra, is at a point of saturation in standard. See you next block.

Ob Nixilis

Appearance in Story: A possibility, nothing more. He has tangled with the GateWatch and come out victorious the other side, leaving them with a big Kozilek shaped middle finger. My reading was he was quite insane after being influenced by the eldrazi, as well as spending however long trapped on Zendikar with a hedron keeping him in check. He will be wanting to raise a bit of hell somewhere, and if Bolas gave him the right incentives, I have no doubt he’d let their goals align, at least for a time. Card in Block: I think if he is used, he’s probably only about 50/50 for getting a card. Liliana and Nicol Bolas make for a heavy black presence in the block already.

Ral Zarek

Appearance in Story: More possible than probable, but on the high side. Ral is directly tied to the Gatewatch’s home base, and seems to be Jace’s closest non-gatewatch (yet? Eyebrow waggle) ally, So if the midden hits the windmill, Ral is one of a very select few ‘walkers the Gatewatch could reliably call for some sort of backup. And make no mistake, the midden is likely to hit the windmill. Ral also has his Project Lightning Bug keeping an eye on Planeswalks in and out of Ravnica, so if the Gatewatch pop back in for Jace to skim through X months of vital plane-wide-affecting decisions (that who knows how many innocent lives depend) in an hour or two before tearing off to Amonkhet, then Ral also would know where to find them. Factor in the fact that Ral and Lavinia are probably pulling their hair out trying to keep Ravnica Great and cover for Jace, and there is no reason that Ral couldn’t decide to go and try to haul Jace back to Ravnica to do his job. Another reason I could see Ral joining the Gatewatch, if nothing else than to keep Jace Guildpacting. Card in Block Not necessarily, even if he appears. With Saheeli in Kaladesh, and again, the shadow cast by Nicol Bolas, there’s no guarantee there will be room. Considering Ajani tips the color balance of the Gatewatch toward Green and White, i would hazard a guess that the Oath of Ral might be in our near future, but probably not from Amonkhet. That said, if there’s a new Oath, I would be very surprised if it wasn’t Ral.

[itsfinancethings]

October 03, 2019 at 06:13AM

The warning signs were there. In a tweet or offhand remark, President Donald Trump would touch on what he said Ukraine had done to him during the 2016 election. Top Administration officials got an earful. Foreign leaders were treated to the stories. Occasionally his rants would unspool on live TV. “And Ukraine!” Trump shouted down the line to a Fox News host on June 19, the night after he formally announced his re-election bid. “Take a look at Ukraine!” he went on, as the host tried to move to other subjects.

Few people, even those closest to him in the White House, grasped exactly what the President of the United States seemed to believe: that Ukraine, a nation consumed over the past five years by a crippling armed conflict with Russia, had found a way to conspire against him during the 2016 election, and to collude with his rival, Hillary Clinton, by hiding the Democratic National Committee’s email server and feeding her allies dirt about Trump. It was an idea Tom Bossert, his first homeland-security adviser, described as a “completely debunked” conspiracy theory. Few saw in his Ukraine outbursts anything more than the effusions of a cable-news showman.

It took a complaint from an intelligence-community whistle-blower, released late last month, to reveal the weight of Trump’s Ukraine conspiracy theory and just how far the President has gone to support the notion that a vast network of enemies inside and outside his own government has been working against him. Trump has tried to mobilize the vast resources of his presidency–from Attorney General William Barr and the U.S. Justice Department to America’s national-security apparatus–and a team of investigative irregulars, led by his personal lawyer Rudy Giuliani. This band of conspiracy cops has traveled the globe in a disorderly hunt for proof of the conspiracy Trump says is arrayed against him.

In the past, many of his advisers tried to redirect Trump. They urged the President to accept the consensus of U.S. intelligence agencies: the true conspiracy of the 2016 election was that Russia interfered on his side. But those voices are long gone. In their place is a network of far-right Internet denizens, conservative media and members of Trump’s inner circle, advancing theories that have taken shape over the past two years. Those seeds have fallen on fertile ground.

Trump tells aides he is held to a double standard, a White House official tells TIME. Trump sees Joe Biden on tape saying the Obama Administration withheld aid until Ukraine fired its prosecutor, and then feels unfairly criticized for asking Ukraine to help investigate Biden and the origins of the Russia probe. To Trump, the official says, “It feels like people are coming at him over a bunch of bullsh-t while letting all this other stuff slide.” That sense of grievance has helped lead Trump into what Democrats and a handful of Republicans say are potentially impeachable offenses, first among them, using the power of the presidency to try and stay in office.

Trump’s focus on Ukraine turned into an invitation, an open call for a cast of sleuths to deliver the thing he craves: evidence, no matter how thin in substance or dubious in provenance, that he is right about his enemies, that he is the victim of a grand conspiracy and not in fact the purveyor of one. Tracing the origins of the Ukraine conspiracy theory and the President’s efforts to pursue it is central to understanding the political crisis consuming Washington.

TIME journalists, from Washington to Ukraine, have found a tangled mix of fact and fiction. Barr has launched a formal Justice Department investigation of the origins of the Mueller probe. Meanwhile, Giuliani has drawn on a network of sources, including a former prosecutor in Kiev, a wanted fugitive in Vienna and a pair of Russian-speaking businessmen in Miami in pursuit of Trump’s theories.

Trump and Giuliani–egged on by supporters chanting “Investigate the investigators!”–may still believe they will find enough proof to chasten their enemies. But so far their efforts have mostly hurt Trump, his Administration and the country. Barr is frustrated with Giuliani’s role in the unorthodox investigation. The White House counsel’s office is at loggerheads with some more politically minded White House aides over how to respond to the whistle-blower’s revelations. Democrats on the Hill are licking their lips at the opportunity to put Trump up for an impeachment trial. And the nation is struggling to understand where the truth actually lies.

It is perhaps not surprising that one of the first sources of the Ukraine conspiracy theory that has so captured the President’s imagination was the Russian Foreign Ministry in Moscow. As questions mounted over Kremlin interference in the 2016 presidential race, a ministry spokesperson suggested that Ukraine had “seriously complicated the work of Trump’s election-campaign headquarters by planting information” about its chairman, Paul Manafort. “All of you have heard this remarkable story,” the spokesperson, Maria Zakharova, told reporters in November 2016.

Like any good conspiracy theory, this one contained a sliver of truth. The leak that forced Manafort to leave the Trump campaign did come from Ukraine, and one of the people who publicized it was a lawmaker named Serhiy Leshchenko. Before he went into politics, Leshchenko worked as an investigative journalist and an activist against corruption. One focus of his research had been Manafort’s work for a Kremlin ally in Ukraine accused of siphoning at least $37 billion in government money into offshore bank accounts. “I’ve never made a secret of my anger at Manafort,” Leshchenko says. “He helped bring a regime to power that robbed my country.”

In August 2016, the New York Times revealed that Manafort had received more than $12 million in payments from that regime, and he was forced to resign from the Trump campaign. Days later, Leshchenko held a press conference in Kiev calling for Manafort to be investigated. That kindling–a wounded Trump campaign, the New York Times and an obscure Ukrainian lawmaker–would soon start a fire on the Internet, conflating events both real and imagined.

Leshchenko’s calls to investigate Manafort became part of a Ukrainian scheme with Democrats to smear the chairman of the Trump campaign. CrowdStrike, the security firm hired to investigate the hacking of emails from the DNC, was said to have covered up Ukraine’s role and framed Russia instead. And starting soon after his Inauguration, Trump piled on. “I heard [CrowdStrike is] owned by a very rich Ukrainian, that’s what I heard,” Trump told the Associated Press in April 2017. He would continue to repeat in other interviews that the firm was owned by Ukrainians or based there, despite the fact that it is a U.S. company based in Sunnyvale, Calif., with no known ties to Ukraine. Three months later, he cryptically tweeted about “Ukrainian efforts to sabotage Trump campaign” that had been “quietly working to boost Clinton.”

Whenever new allegations of Trump’s Russia ties emerged, his allies would revive the Ukraine theory. As the Mueller probe gained steam in the summer of 2017, Fox News host Sean Hannity devoted segments of his show to the allegations that the Clinton campaign had received help from Ukrainian officials, with a banner of the country’s blue-and-yellow flag reading in all-caps Ukrainian election interference? Trump’s son Donald Jr. amplified the Ukraine theories after his infamous Trump Tower meeting with a Kremlin-linked lawyer became public in July 2017, retweeting that “DNC operatives actively worked with Ukrainian government officials to dig up oppo research,” asking, “No outrage???” Trump’s attorney Jay Sekulow ran with this message on CNN a few days later, referring to “the situation with the Ukrainians and the DNC and the Clinton campaign, where information actually was shared.” Trump’s allies pointed to reporting by Politico and the New York Times that a DNC outreach coordinator had met with Ukrainian officials in Washington and shared information about Manafort’s work in Ukraine with reporters and the DNC.

As the Mueller probe drew to a close in the spring of this year, the President and Giuliani began to speak out more frequently about these theories. “As Russia Collusion fades, Ukrainian plot to help Clinton emerges,” Trump tweeted on March 20, two days before Mueller delivered his final report to the Attorney General.

All along, the pied piper of the Ukraine narrative was Giuliani. On the morning of May 11, a few days after a Senate committee called Trump’s eldest son to testify, Ukraine’s new government awoke to news footage of Giuliani declaring that there were “enemies of the United States” among them. Raising his voice over the anchor’s attempts to interrupt him, Trump’s lawyer even name-checked Leshchenko, the former journalist. He had been in line to join the Cabinet of President Volodymyr Zelensky, but Trump’s lawyer got in the way. “We knew Giuliani is the hand of Trump,” Leshchenko tells TIME. “Once he called me an enemy, it was clear I had to step aside.”

Trump soon took the theories about Ukraine straight to the country’s President. In a phone call on July 25–the day after Mueller’s testimony before Congress–Trump urged Zelensky to do him a favor. “I would like to have the Attorney General call you or your people” about this alleged collusion, Trump said. “And I would like you to get to the bottom of it.”

When the White House released a declassified summary of that call on Sept. 25, it showed just how aggressive Trump had been in pursuit of the matter, and just how varied a team he had enlisted in the effort. While Giuliani is a central player, Barr is second only to Trump in the power he wields in its execution. But when he first learned that Trump had raised his name on the call with Zelensky, the Attorney General was “angry and surprised to be lumped in together with the President’s personal attorney,” not least because Barr has never spoken about Ukraine to Giuliani, a person familiar with Barr’s thinking tells TIME.

But Barr’s role in this story has drawn plenty of attention, and criticism. While Trump publicly mused that Barr’s predecessor, Jeff Sessions, should investigate Ukraine’s role in the events that led to the Mueller probe, one former official who worked under Sessions does not recall the topic ever coming up inside the Justice Department. Barr, by contrast, dived right in.

Shortly after being confirmed to the job in February, Barr instructed the U.S. Attorney for Connecticut, John Durham, to look at “the extent to which a number of countries, including Ukraine, played a role in the counterintelligence investigation directed at the Trump campaign during the 2016 election,” according to a Justice Department statement in September. Asked what the basis for the investigation was, a Justice Department official says, “the Attorney General just saw enough things that weren’t adding up that he knew he needed to look into it.”

Barr himself has taken up the task of digging into the matter. In London this summer, he asked British authorities how much credence they gave former British spy Christopher Steele and a dossier he compiled on Trump’s alleged ties to Russia, two British officials briefed on Barr’s visit tell TIME. British intelligence officials found Barr’s request for information in the probe “rather unusual, coming as it did from the Attorney General instead of the usual channels,” one of the officials tells TIME.

Barr has also enlisted Trump. “At Attorney General Barr’s request, the President has contacted other countries to ask them to introduce the Attorney General and Mr. Durham to appropriate officials,” Justice Department spokesperson Kerri Kupec said in a statement on Sept. 30. Trump has spoken to Australia and possibly other leaders at Barr’s behest.

One troubling question is whether Barr, like Trump, crossed a line from pursuing a suspected conspiracy perpetrated during the last election into investigating Trump’s political rivals in the coming one. The whistle-blower alleged Barr appeared to be “involved” in the effort to “solicit interference from a foreign country in the 2020 U.S. election.” Pressed on whether Barr and Trump had discussed former Vice President Biden in connection with Ukraine, the Justice Department official reported no awareness of any conversations between the Attorney General and the President about Biden and Ukraine.

If Barr is trying to be discreet, Giuliani has been anything but. His pursuit of parallel investigations has triggered alarm at the highest levels of the White House. “The most dangerous stuff is Rudy flying around the world fixing sh-t,” a person close to Trump told TIME.

From Vienna and Kiev to Florida, Giuliani has recruited a cast of helpers in his effort to confirm Trump’s suspicions about Biden, Clinton and Ukraine. Among them was a pair of businessmen from Miami, Igor Fruman and Lev Parnas, who volunteered to be his eyes and ears in Kiev, they have said. Born in the Soviet Union and still connected in Ukraine to businessmen and politicians, the duo have made generous donations to Republican causes since 2016. With their assistance, Giuliani spoke to three politicians in Ukraine who had overseen investigations related to the Biden family. Parnas, Fruman and Giuliani have all spoken publicly about their efforts. “I was doing it because I felt as a U.S. citizen it was my patriotic duty,” Parnas told NPR in September.

So far, the most valuable source for Giuliani in Ukraine has been Viktor Shokin, a former prosecutor general, who spoke to Giuliani over Skype in late 2018. Shokin later wrote a damning 12-page statement accusing Biden of abuse of power during his tenure as Vice President. “I was forced to leave office, under direct and intense pressure from Joe Biden and the U.S. Administration,” in order to stop an investigation of the company where Hunter Biden worked, Shokin wrote.

That account has not stood up to scrutiny. Top officials in the U.S. and Ukraine, as well as independent experts and investigative journalists, have confirmed that Shokin was fired for his alleged corruption, and the investigation of Hunter Biden’s company was dormant at the time.

A parallel track in Giuliani’s efforts has been entrusted to a pair of American lawyers and Fox News regulars, Victoria Toensing and Joe DiGenova, who have worked with Giuliani for years and, according to a recent profile of them in Politico, “enjoy an open line to Trump.” This summer, they went to work for Dmitry Firtash, a Ukrainian tycoon who is wanted in Chicago for alleged corruption. In a legal filing in 2017, the DOJ referred to Firtash as an “upper-echelon associate of Russian organized crime.” He has strongly denied having links to the mafia and is fighting extradition to the U.S. on the bribery charges, which he also denies.

But the Firtash case has become a rich pool of material for Giuliani’s effort to discredit the Mueller investigation. In a legal filing in Vienna in July, lawyers for Firtash claimed that one of Mueller’s top investigators had offered to drop the bribery case against Firtash in exchange for damning testimony on Trump, Toensing and DiGenova tell TIME. “The oligarch,” Giuliani told Fox News on July 22, “basically said, ‘I’m not going to lie to get out of the case.'” (Mueller’s prosecutors have denied ever inappropriately pressuring witnesses to testify against Trump.)

For Trump’s critics, the scariest thing about his efforts to discredit the Mueller probe is the impact it will have on the 2020 election. U.S. intelligence agencies have warned repeatedly that Russia has again set out to influence the vote. “They’re doing it as we sit here,” Mueller told Congress in July.

Trump’s refusal to credit such warnings, and his attempts to cast them as a plot against his presidency, is going to make the Kremlin’s work much easier this time around, says Michael McFaul, a former U.S. ambassador to Moscow. “That is my prediction for what is going to happen in electoral politics in America moving forward,” McFaul tells TIME. Thanks to Trump’s “disinformation campaign,” he says, “Ukraine is going to become the focus of the 2020 elections. And that means Russia is off the hook.”

With reporting by Brian Bennett, Tessa Berenson, Massimo Calabresi, Abby Vesoulis and John Walcott/Washington