#and it was loads and loads of fun figuring out how to transform their story into something

[comicaurora]

You mentioned in a previous ask about Arcane that wanting to do something better can be a great motivator, but recently I've seen a lot of discussion about fanworks created out of "spite" like Spiderman Lotus or that Transformers fan film. Do you think these come from different feelings, leading to their end result, or that the motivation just needs to be handled carefully?

Ah, I see the confusion. When you have ideas for what a story could do, and then the story goes in a different direction and bypasses what you thought it would do, that can be an incredibly useful motivator for using that unused inspiration for telling your own story. Taking someone else's completed artwork and saying "move over, idiot, I'll show you how it's done" is a recipe for hubristic self-immolation.

Setting out to "fix" someone's work has to be approached very carefully. Artistic criticism is a complicated skill, but it isn't treated that way. Especially in the age of the internet, several wildly different things have been conflated under "criticism", and I think that's why spite-motivated "fixes" almost always end up tripping on their shoelaces and falling flat.

Art critique - "fixing" someone's work - is about figuring out how to make the art the most effective version of itself. Determine what it's going for, and make suggestions for how the artist could improve the execution of that goal. Clarify a confusing moment, change the score a little to be more emotionally impactful, break up the pacing with moments to breathe, tighten up the pacing to maintain the frantic vibes.

However, the broad perception of what art critique is has been bundled together with several other forms of criticism, including snarky reviews (a judgment of quality rendered after a work is completed and aimed at prospective audiences so they don't end up wasting their money), general knee-jerk mockery (it is easy and fun to score points off of other people's sincerity via a little casual bullying), critical analysis (taking apart how a story works to learn from it, a useful approach for other artists trying to improve their own skills) and, of course, fanfiction.

Ahh, fanfiction! If you don't like a story, you can just take the characters, setting, premise, worlbuilding, and the general shape of the plot - ignoring the fact that at this point you've borrowed about 80% of the work that went into building the original story already - and then you can just make the characters do what you wanted instead. If you think Spider-Man would be better if everyone was miserable and grieving a dead buddy the whole time, you can do that! Two hours of misery for everyone!

This approach is ostensibly trying to accomplish what art critique does - to make a better version of the story. But in practice, it's almost never interested in interrogating what the story was actually going for. In fact, it's actively scornful of what the story was going for. It doesn't take it apart to see what did work, it just says "I didn't like that and I could do better" and produces something trying not to be like the original it disliked.

I kind of think of it like this. If you ate a meal and you were like "there's not enough salt in this," you would not produce a better meal by focusing exclusively on loading it down with all the salt you could find, even if you were starting with all the same ingredients. Do you understand how they were put together to begin with? How the meat was brined, how the vegetables were cooked, what seasonings went where? Do you think all it needed to make it work was salt?

So you get fanworks that do indeed focus on the part that the fanartist thought was missing. You get Spider-Man Is A Sad Jerk For Two Hours. It accomplished what the fanartist wanted, but it fails in its true goal of being Like The Original But Better, because it never actually made the effort to understand what made the original tick. Why do people like Spider-Man in his other movies? Well, there's lots of reasons that work for different audiences - he's funny, he's good-hearted, he's graceful and well-choreographed, his fight scenes are fluid and exciting, his dynamic with the people of New York is lively and comedic, he's hapless and hurting but he always tries his best, he gets knocked down but he always gets back up-- there are many reasons to like these stories. But if all you can focus on is what you wanted them to add, you'll have a lot of trouble parsing out what functional elements you'll need to carry over into your fanfiction to not lose the core of what made it actually mostly work.

If all you focus on is accentuating the bits you wanted them to do without recognizing the parts that were working fine, you end up with a heaping plate of salt.

✨ as the ask states, this post is very specifically about spite-motivated "I can do it better than the writers" fanworks and not fanfiction in general ✨

[alphajocklover]

So I just finished my 3rd year exams at university (hopefully I did well enough to make it into a 4th year and go for an Master's of science) and as soon as I get out near the crowd to celebrate a guy bumps into me and I broke my phone. I was ready to give him a piece of my mind until I saw he was pretty built, he must be on some university team for something. He felt awful apparently and he gave me his old phone as an apology. It came with this InstaJock app thing on it. I dunno what it is but I kinda wanna load it up...

Another instance of a jock giving someone a phone with InstaJock already downloaded on it. Another instance of someone doing something with InstaJock that doesn’t make any sense. I know it’s unprofessional to say something like this, but this is driving me crazy. Why would a jock give away their phone? If they wanted to turn you into a jock like them, they’d just send you the app! If they wanted to give you a new phone for real, they’d have wiped it before giving it to you. I guess it's possible they forgot, but InstaJock is super important to the users that get transformed into jocks. Even with how stupid jocks can be, I doubt they’d forget about the app that literally changed their life. So… why?

I’ve mentioned in some of my earlier Instajock posts that someone has been messing with people using this app. Using it in unconventional ways to mess with people, spreading false information about the app, and even making knock offs of the transformative app. My first thought was that it had to be The Master. Not the Doctor Who villain, to those who get that reference, but someone I introduced to you all in a recent post. He’s the creator of Instajock and the mastermind behind my Uncle’s transformation and kidnapping. He’s an incredibly powerful figure in the Transformation Community, even more than I’ve told you. Most people who know about transformations are scared to mention him, even other TF Reporters are, and most powerful people or groups who work with transformation either do business with him or stay out of his way. But… I don’t think he’s the one behind this. He likes to mess with people, play with his victims like whoever is behind this, but if he wanted to do that he could just add features to the actual InstaJock app. He had no reason to do things in such a roundabout way. Which makes me think… it’s someone else.

Whoever is doing this has an intimate knowledge of the app, so It has to be someone involved with InstaJock, someone besides The Master. Maybe someone who works for him? Even he couldn’t have programmed the entire app on his own and added in the magical elements without help. Plus he isn’t one for upkeep, so he’s probably having someone else run the site for him. They also have to be someone with a lot of nerve to mess with The Master, maybe someone who they’ve hurt personally. On top of all of that it’d also have to be someone the jocks would listen to. Maybe someone who worked on InstaJock that The Master fired, a former employee?

I can’t be sure of who's behind this yet, but I do know that whatever they’re trying to do with you isn’t good. When you press that app, you won’t just be turned into a jock like a regular InstaJock user. It has to be something… special. Something that would benefit, or would at least interest the person behind this. Maybe you’ll turn into a copy of the jock who gave you the phone, become their perfect twin? Maybe something else will happen entirely. I can’t be sure.

If it’s not too late, send me the phone immediately. I can put it somewhere safe, and I might be able to protect you from whoever's doing this. If it is too late… Well I hope you enjoy whatever happened. Being transformed against your will sucks, but being a jock can be fun, even if it isn’t your choice.

**3 stories in one day, all InstaJock? I must be on a roll! I hope you guys liked this one! There are still more mysteries and more transformations to discover! Stay tuned!**

[foundtherightwords]

The Quiet Chaos - Chapter 1

Pairing: Billy Knight (Lethal White/Strike) x OFC

Summary: After a bad breakup throws her carefully-planned life into disarray, Esme has sworn off dating forever. However, when she forms an unexpected connection with a young man named Billy, who's dealing with his own struggles, Esme is forced to face the truth: sometimes you can't plan for love.  

A/N: I had the hardest time writing this because it's not my usual fare of slow-burn angsty pining - there is angst, and it is kind of slow-burn, but the characters get together pretty quickly and spend most of the fic figuring out their relationship, which is not my forte at all. Ah well, it was a fun challenge.

Also, there are a lot of references to Discworld in this. I wanted to weave the Uffington White Horse into the story and my mind just immediately went to the chalk horse in the Tiffany Aching books, and it sort of spiraled from there. I tried not to let it distract from the story too much though.

Warnings: mental health issues, angst, slow-burn, developing relationship, dysfunctional family, some violence (non-graphic), some smut

Chapter word count: 2.4k

Chapter 1 - Billy

Is there anything lonelier than working the night shift at a not particularly busy 24-hour veterinarian clinic? Esme thought to herself as she made the rounds of the kennels. The clinic was a small one, so they never kept more than three or four animals overnight at the most, and that night, there was only a gray tabby cat, recovering from his recent surgery and looking rather glum about it. A roll of thunder in the distance, signaling rain, did little to lift his mood. "Cheer up, Monty," Esme told him, giving his ear a little stroke. "You'll be going home tomorrow."

Well, I suppose being the night guard at a museum may be lonelier, she admitted. Or a lighthouse keeper. Or working at a morgue. In fact, there are loads more jobs that are lonelier. But somehow, sharing her night with a living, breathing creature, one that she could talk to but couldn't answer back, made Esme more aware of how alone she was. Then again, if there was another person here with her, she knew she would soon get bored with the chit-chatting and wish for some peace and quiet again.

She used to love the night shift. She could use that as an excuse not to go out with her ex, Neil. "Sorry, I can't go out tonight, I have the night shift "or" Sorry, I just worked the night shift, I'm knackered." Of course, she didn't like the night shift just because of that. She had always enjoyed being on her own, doing things at her own pace. Neil's idea of being a couple was to go out constantly, to bars and restaurants and events and parties. When they first started dating, his sophistication had dazzled her, but after a while, it had become exhausting. However, if Esme suggested they went to something quieter like the theater or a museum, or, God forbid, stayed in, he would moan the whole time about how boring it was. Eventually, she stopped suggesting and started signing up for more night shifts just to have some time to herself. Still, as the nights stretched on and she was stuck in the empty clinic, sometimes it could feel as though she was the last person on earth.

Esme sighed at her own contradictoriness and reminded herself she has nothing to fill her nights anyway. Curl up with a book? She could do that here, on the threadbare sofa in the employee's lounge. Unpack the rest of her things? When she moved into the new flat four months ago, her parents had insisted she took with her some of the decorations and knick-knacks she'd left at home, though Esme kept saying she had no room for them. Now they still languished in boxes in the storage shed, a reminder of an old life. No, better to stay here, enjoying the company of the animals, knowing that she was keeping them safe, and wishing there wasn't going to be an emergency more serious than a dog that had eaten something it shouldn't.

But it didn't look like it was going to be one of those nights.

Esme was fixing the few things scattered on the front desk - the sign-in pad, the pen, the bowl of pick-and-mix - making them line up perfectly, when the front door slammed open and a man burst in, a dog cradled in his arms. "Help, please!" he shouted. "She's hurt!"

Esme jumped into action. The dog, a little mongrel of white and brown, was panting and whining in a way Esme knew too well, one of her back legs dangling at an unnatural angle and already swelling up. "What happened?" Esme asked.

"I just found her," the man said. "She must've been hit by a car..."

Esme took the dog from him. Now she noticed the dirty, matted fur, the protruding ribs, the gunk-filled eyes, and the lack of a collar. A stray. "Don't worry," she said, both to the dog and the man, who was looking frantic.

She rushed the dog into the operating room. The man trailed after her. "Would you mind waiting outside, please?" she asked.

He automatically took a step back, but kept wringing his hands and shifting his weight, fighting the urge to follow her.

"We'll take good care of her," she said reassuringly. Then, remembering that there was no one here but her, she corrected herself, "I will."

The dog, apparently frightened by the smells and sight of the operating room, started wriggling, her whines becoming more high-pitched as her broken leg brushed against Esme's arm. The man stepped in and put out a hand. The dog quieted down the moment his hand was on her. Esme threw him a surprised look.

"Sorry—I'm—" he mumbled.

"No, it's alright," Esme said. She was glad for the help. She gently moved the dog to the operating table, sedated her, and felt the fracture. Seemed to be a closed one, which was good, but she took an X-ray to be sure anyway. Then, while the man kept stroking the dog, his touch soft and soothing, Esme quickly set the bone and put it in a cast.

"There," she said, once the cast was finished. "She's young, so it shouldn't take long to heal. Thank you for your help."

The man nodded, still looking anxious. "What'll happen to her?" he asked.

Esme peered more closely at him. He was younger than she'd thought at first, probably in his late twenties, but despite a scruffy beard, there was still something boyish in his large brown eyes and tousled dark hair. He seemed strangely skittish, however - his eyes kept darting to hers and then away again, unable to hold the contact, and he carried himself rather stiffly. For a moment, she wondered if he was on some kind of drugs, neurodivergent, or perhaps simply shy.

"Once her fracture heals, we'll give her a once-over to make sure she's healthy and check if she's micro-chipped," she answered. "But she's most likely a stray, so she'll go to a rescue center."

He lifted his eyes to her face briefly, questioningly. Esme thought she understood the concern. "You don't have to worry about the bill," she said. "We get help from local animal charities for situations like this."

But the man shook his head. "No, will they—are they going to—I've heard that they put animals down at those places," he muttered.

"Oh." His concern warmed Esme's heart. Most people wouldn't even take the time to bring in a stray, let alone worry about their future. "Not if she's healthy. They'll find her a good home."

That seemed to reassure him. He nodded again and hesitated at the door, apparently unsure if he should stay or go.

"Thank you for bringing her in," Esme said. The man noted the final air of her words and turned to go, while she lifted the dog into a crate.

As she did so, Esme noticed the dog's pink, swollen teats. "Oh, no," she exclaimed.

The man turned back. "What is it?" he asked, looking stressed again.

"This dog is nursing," Esme said, her heart sinking. "She has puppies."

As if to add more drama to the situation, the thunder chose that moment to let out a low rumble. Rain was coming. Heavy rain. Small puppies would not survive in this weather without shelter.

"Where did you find her?" she asked the man. "Is it far?"

"No, just down the road, near Aldersbrook..."

Esme grabbed a carrier from the shelf, dug under the front desk for a torch, and shrugged her coat on. "Show me."

The man hung back, an uncertain look mixed with something else—Fear? Distrust?—crossed his face. "Why? What are you going to do?"

"We need to find the puppies before the rain comes."

He looked around the clinic. "But—what if there's an emergency..."

"This is an emergency. Come on!"

***

It started pouring down by the time they reach Aldersbrook Lane, one of those small, seedy-looking alleys that ran behind warehouses and blocks of cheap flats, ending at a railway bridge. "Right here," the man said. "I found her crawling on the road, dragging her leg."

"She must've left the puppies to look for food," Esme said, or, rather, shouted over the roar of the rain and the thunder. "But she wouldn't go too far. So they should be around here."

She strained her ear, listening for the sound of puppies crying, but the rain was drowning out even her own thoughts. Rain plastered her already lank hair to her head and ran down the collar of her coat in cold, clammy rivulets. She wondered what she was doing here, on a darkened road, in a storm, with a stranger who didn't seem all there. But, she reasoned with herself, anyone who brought an injured stray dog to a vet can't be untrustworthy.

A stale odor assaulted Esme's nostrils as they neared the railway bridge. A brook, or the remnant of one, which gave the lane its name, ran under the bridge, almost dry and choked with rubbish. The noise of the storm lessened here, and Esme thought she heard something, a soft whimpering. She swept the torch over the rubbish.

"There!" the man shouted, grabbing her arm to still the beam of the torch. "You see?"

She squinted. Indeed, under a milk crate turned on its side, she caught a glimpse of movement, something white and small. The poor mother dog had made a den out of rags and old newspaper inside the crate, right on top of an islet of rubbish. While the brook remained dry, she and her puppies were safe, but with the storm, the water was rising fast, and the puppies would drown.

Esme looked down the brook, chewing her lip. The brook bed was deep, and the slimy surface showing here and there amongst the rubbish looked treacherous. It might hold some small dogs, but she was certain it would not hold her. Perhaps she could reach them from the bank...

"Hold my hand," she said to the man, handing him the torch. "I'll try to reach them."

"Are—are you sure?"

"I don't want to risk climbing down there and sinking up to my armpits in slime. If you hold my hand and I lean down, I could reach them." When he still looked unsure, she turned to face him. "I trust you, alright? What's your name?"

"Billy." The answer came hesitantly, as though he wasn't used to people asking him his name.

"OK, Billy, I'm Esme." She took his hand and gave it a brief but firm shake. His grip was strong, his hand surprisingly warm. "Now let's save some puppies."

With Billy holding her left hand and keeping the torch fixed on the crate, Esme scrambled down the steep bank and leaned over as far as she could, while still keeping her feet on solid ground. She managed to hook her fingertips to the crate. A chorus of yelps from inside confirmed that it was indeed where the puppies were. She strained, drawing it closer until she could reach her hand in and pull out a warm, squirming bundle of soft fur. She passed the first one to Billy, who placed it in the carrier. One, two, three, four. The puppies were so young their eyes weren't even opened yet, but they soon snuggled down into the warmth of the carrier and lay still.

"Is that all?" Billy asked.

"I think so," Esme replied, running her hand over the milk crate once more to make sure. "Yeah, that's all." She started climbing back up the bank.

"Wait," Billy said, putting up a hand. "I still hear something."

Esme struggled to listen. Thankfully, the puppies in the carrier had gone quiet, but she still couldn't hear anything. "I don't—"

"Shh! There!"

Now she heard it—a tiny cry, weaker than the others. Following the beam of the torch, she noticed a stirring under some crisp packets, further away from where the milk crate was, close to the middle of the brook, where some of the rubbish was getting swept away by the rising water. She and Billy formed a human chain again, but this time, the straggler was too far. Esme's entire torso was hanging over the brook, with only the tip of her shoes gripping the bank. She could feel Billy struggling to hold on to her other hand. She clicked her fingers and made suckling sounds with her pursed lips, trying to entice the puppy closer. "Come on, little fella... Come join your brothers and sisters... Your mum's waiting..."

Finally, a black nose poked out from under the crisp packet, followed by a brindle body, no bigger than her palm. Esme made a grab for the puppy, just as her fingers slip out of Billy's hand, and the rubbish-covered bed of the brook loomed toward her at an alarming speed—

—only for Billy to snatch her wrist and haul her to her feet.

For a moment, Esme could only stand there and gasp for breath, glad of the firm ground under her feet. Then she became aware that Billy's arms were around her, and she had one hand on his chest, staring into his eyes, with the puppy squished between them. She scooted back, while Billy also looked away, his hands twitching at his sides. Bending down to hide her flushed face, Esme placed the puppy into the carrier with its brethren and zipped it up.

The moment they walked in through the door of the kennel room, the mother dog sat up in her crate, alert, her tail thumping like crazy. The yelps from the carrier rose to a deafening crescendo, and the mum tried to get to her feet. "OK, OK, here you go, don't hurt yourself again," Esme said, placing the puppies into the crate. The mum sniffed them, then gave them a good lick, and finally, satisfied, lay down with her babies. Esme smiled up at Billy, who was watching the dogs with a riveted expression.

"We did it," she told him. He smiled back at her, a brief and uncertain smile, yet it still lit up his whole face, like the sun peeking out from behind the clouds.

Chapter 2

Taglist: @quinnypixie (if you want to be tagged, just send me a message!)

[meatcodistributor453]

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[tapwrites]

Theme through Exposition (Matrix Reloaded, Revolutions & Resurrections)

This is part 2 of a series looking at the Matrix films. You can read the first part before continuing.

Which brings us to the sequels, Reloaded, and Revolutions. These were made at the same time, and function as two halves of the same story. So I'll look at them as one block. Though in less detail... And I've tagged on a bit about Resurrections at the end to round out the series.

First, the reviews:

I enjoyed Reloaded and Revolutions a fair bit less than the first film. Of course, there wasn't that gut-punch of a brand new concept to my psyche--that's to be expected. But something about it was qualitatively different to me.

Compared to the small-scale, big-concept of The Matrix... these sequels were all about the big-scale, high-concept. Giant fights (utilising a lot of pure-CGI), in giant places (the dock, and the entire Matrix). While the concepts are less "big," more just... "high."

There was always some philosophy stuff floating around in the Matrix, but the focus was on the Matrix as a concept--rather than discussions on the definition of a word and the abstract impact that definition has on existence itself. Which basically stops the momentum of the story because really nothing is happening.

The bigger scale of the battles and fights is fine by itself. There's a lot of fun sequences in there. But compared to the tighter story-driven fight scenes in the first film, it often felt a bit "and now there's going to be a fight/battle scene." It was easy to get lost regarding why the heroes were doing what they were doing, and what their goal was.

Why is Neo fighting all those Agents if he can just fly away? Why do they need the Key Maker? Where are they trying to get to? What's the stakes?

Interestingly, the film actually comments on that. With the Merovingian telling the heroes they don't know why they are doing things. And the Oracle telling Neo his job isn't to make a choice, but to understand the future choice he's already made. (More on that later.)

Which... okay, that could happen in a story I guess--characters doing what they can but not really knowing what to do. But it means the viewer doesn't understand the motivation of the characters, because the characters don't understand their own motivations... which in turn means it's easy to just not really care about what's going on.

And then the more recent Resurrections. Which, to sum up, is a mess.

Half Matrix-inspired saturday morning cartoon with a load of colourful one-dimensional characters that do almost nothing (reminded me a lot of some of the Transformers movies in that way). And half meta commentary on the circumstances of making the film, what they thought about the Matrix series and about the suits at Warner Brothers who demanded it be made.

I'm not going to go down the rabbit-hole of the meta stuff about production in this article. You can look into that stuff elsewhere. But watching it with this stuff in mind, and it being so obvious in the subtext (and text) of the movie... it felt like I was watching a mental breakdown as expressed through the medium of film.

But anyway... theme!

The theme of M2 & M3 is Choice... but instead of how "Belief is choice," it's about how "Purpose is choice."

This concept is explored primarily through conversations.

The Oracle tells Neo, "You're not here to make a choice. You're here to understand why you made the choice." [M2 0:45:40] So yes, fate and predestination is real, there is no such thing as real choice. Purpose is a choice already made. Neo should focus on figuring out what his purpose is, not about making free choices.

Which goes against the whole concept of "free your mind" and Neo's free choices being the crux of the whole thing, of being the One in the first place.

Without a lot of work on the viewer's part to untangle the philosophy of it all, it feels very incongruous to the reason they are watching this film... because the loved the first film.

The Merovingian says it is the "why" that has the power. And the gang does not know why they are doing any of this. They are choosing to do what they're told, without understanding why they are choosing to do it. [M2 1:05:22]

Which is totally true. The Oracle said "jump," and they said "how high?"

This is part of why it's not so enjoyable to watch. The viewer doesn't have any idea why they're doing what they're doing either; the characters have no motivation beyond "Oracle told me to do it." That's not an interesting motivation for a character to have.

When they have 3 ships and 3 missions, Morpheus says: "I do not see coincidence, I see providence. I see purpose." [M2 1:41:42]

Though in reality, one of those ships does nothing at all... beyond maybe making the others believe there's purpose and this is the right plan.

There's a lot of chat going on here, interleaved with carrying out the plan. The plan itself isn't that interesting. And we keep cutting back to Morpheus trying to make it all sound grander than it is. There's a lot of bouncing around in time, there's something about the timing of power dropping and when things blow up and when the door disappears and... it's all very confusing. Especially on first-viewing.

The Architect tells Neo why he exists in the first place, and therefore what his purpose is--why he chose to come here. To decide to let Zion die, make a new Zion with new people from the Matrix, and let the loop keep on looping. [M2 1:54:56]

This is actually quite a cool revelation, but is confusing as all get-out because it's written like an academic paper. It took me a fair bit of studying this scene to figure out what he was actually saying at any point in time.

And it actually turns out none of it was relevant because Neo just decides that's not his purpose, and takes the door no One before him ever took so he could save Trinity. ...Which also doesn't seem to affect anything but the decision in that moment.

The Oracle has changed bodies, because she made a choice. "Since the test of any choice is to make it again, knowing full well what it might cost, I guess I feel pretty good about that choice. Because here I am, at it again." [M3 0:05:38]

This doesn't really fit in with the whole "purpose" idea. It's just more philosophical dialogue.

Morpheus has a crisis of faith, finding out that the prophecy was a lie. He asks the Oracle, "After everything that has happened, how can you expect me to believe you?" Who replies, "I don't. I expect just what I've always expected. For you to make up your own [darn] mind. Believe me or don't." [M3 0:07:00]

She told Neo this in the park, too. And it does fit with M1. Though all the other stuff she told Neo and everything the films are about goes against this idea So... it's just not very cohesive at all, and if you try to figure this stuff out, it comes out as pretty confusing just by itself.

Rama-Kandra speaks to Neo in the station. He's a program who controls recycling at the power plant. "It is my karma. A way of saying 'what I am here to do.' I do not resent my karma. I am grateful for it. Grateful for my wonderful wife, for my beautiful daughter." [M3 0:12:19]

But really his job had nothing to do with those things. He has a purpose. But also some amount of freedom to choose--to have relationships, to create new programs like Sati.

Though programs created for no real reason, like Sati, have no purpose. They exist purely to do whatever they feel like. To make choices. To use their free-will, you could say.

Though the Machines don't like anything to exist that has no purpose. It's just sub-optimal. They want to delete such programs. Which is why Sati is being sent to the Matrix, where such programs can hide from the Machines.

This is cool worldbuilding. Though it's not really explored as part of the story. These facts, and Sati herself, have no effect on what happens. Just more dialogue-only exploration of ideas.

Speaking of whatever he did to the Oracle, Merv says, "Where others see coincidence, I see consequence. Where others see chance, I see cost." What he did to her was business, economics. [M3 0:21:52]

This mirrors what Morpheus said in M2. Though he doesn't see the grandiose purpose and providence, but the mundane consequence and cost--economics in place of fate.

Choice doesn't factor into either of these. Morpheus doesn't believe choice factors in because it's already been decided--similar to how the Oracle thinks. Merv is just cranking the wheel of give and take.

During the finale battle, Smith says "the purpose of life is to end." [M3 1:44:53] Namely by being taken over by him. He aims to take over everything, because he's a virus. And that's a big problem for the Machines.

Thematically, this doesn't really do much. Though it kind of fits into how the fight ends.

Neo gives up and lets Smith take him over. Which allows the Machines to... do... something through Neo I guess? To destroy all of the Smiths? Somehow? [M3 1:52:50]

This could be the choice he didn't understand maybe. Though potentially it could've been the choice he made at the Architect's room--to not create a new Zion, and seemingly allow all of humankind to die.

Apparently he was seeing the door of light in a prophetic dream, though we never saw that so it didn't really have any impact.

Anyway, one of these were this was the choice he didn't understand, that he was destined to make according to the Oracle. Though at the time, it was just pure confusion for the audience.

That's really the problem here, thematically. It was pretty much all talk about the theme, but we saw very little to demonstrate any of it.

There were a lot of "let's sit down and chat" scenes in these films. Technically, the exploration of theme in M1 were also conversations--but those conversations happened because of the story. They were directly related to the story unfolding, they came naturally as a result of what came before. They were direct and relevant.

In M2 & M3, these conversations did not come from what came before. They were not particularly relevant to what was happening. They often meandered and jumped from topic to somewhat unrelated topic--awkwardly setting up aspects that would come into play, but with nothing motivating it being brought up.

One speaker would say something cryptic and the other would understand exactly what they meant and say it--because just a monologue would be too obviously an infodump. Or one speaker would change the subject at random and the other would carry on as if nothing weird just happened.

While there were thematic threads linking to the events--well, pretty much the very final events perhaps--the viewer wasn't in on that. And the conversations were mainly used to worldbuild, exposit at the viewers, talk about philosophical concepts.

Just as in M1, the same concepts were revisited over and over, from different angles. But not in a subtle way that was worked into the story; it felt more like the characters were saying to each other:

ORACLE/ARCHITECT/MERV: Hey, you know how the theme of this movie is fate, or purpose or something? NEO: Yeah? SMITH/MORPHEUS: Isn't it cool? NEO: Uhuh.

The visions didn't really do anything but give the writers an excuse to lead Neo by the nose. We care about Trinity potentially dying, and that piques our interest at the start--that's fine. But it has absolutely no impact on the story whatsoever. She doesn't die, and life carries on.

Or is the idea that the only reason Neo chose not to go along with the "new Zion" door is because he had to save Trinity immediately? If Trinity wasn't falling, he would have left her to die by the Machines instead? I don't buy that, personally. It just doesn't all fit together.

This doesn't mean those chats should all just be ripped out. Imagine if this was done with the finesse of the first film...

For example, we could see the choice Neo would make that was incomprehensible. In the dreams, we see him giving up and dying--something anathema to who he is as the One. We see him taking a door that means the end of all humankind. We see him full-on snogging Persephone.

Maybe just flashes at the start--Neo calmly allowing Smith to attack--to keep some suspense. And as his mind returns to it, the flashes lengthen--we see Smith's black goop ooze over him. Stuff like that.

He's worried. He has self-doubts. He's meant to be this all-powerful thing within the Matrix, this saviour all of Zion has been waiting for. Nothing can stop him. But... is he really going to give up?

We're confused by the dream too, identifying with Neo's response to it. We've got something to think about that we actually care about, that will actually have dramatic impact later on.

Now he has something to talk about, with the dream. Oracle tells him they are choices he will make. That he needs to understand the choice. Now it has meaning, weight. The conversation is now relevant to the story, because the story starts with those visions.

There's the hint of the Machines being this sort of strict dictatorship where if you have no purpose, or become obsolete, you will be killed. And there's an "underground railroad" type of thing going on with the Trainman and the Merovingian.

But that's also purely there to spout theme. It doesn't come into play through the story in any meaningful way.

What if Neo actually helped an escaping program--another thing he couldn't understand the choice to do, perhaps. Running from agents or whatever. Some concrete reason why this is happening more now. Perhaps word of a virus sweeping the Machine City--which turns out to be Smith. We sympathise with "the other side" in this war. If only there was some way for both sides to co-exist. ...Which of course sets up the very end.

There are several indications that the Matrix was intended to be about "the future," a future of humans and machines learning to coexist.

But while it's said at the end of Revolutions that's what happens... I certainly didn't buy it. There's too many questions about how that could possibly work, why the Machines would agree to it--especially as Neo said nothing about it when talking to the nanobot-baby.

That ending felt a lot more like a "blue sky" ending, one where you're not meant to think too hard about it, but just accept the happy ending and move on with your life.

The main issue though is that it wasn't set up in the story. It felt bolted-on. If I was properly prepared by the story for this to be a thing, I could've accepted it as a satisfying and earned conclusion.

And lastly, Resurrections. (sigh)

There's a whole lot going on in this film. A lot of meta themes, a lot of themes about society, random themes thrown in from time to time and never mentioned again...

To save my sanity, I'm just going to focus on the one with the through-line to the Matrix series itself: "You call this a choice?" As in, that's not much of a choice.

Which is linked to the themes and subtext of M1, I think. But with this darker, more twisted tone. Instead of the surface-reading being "Neo is helped by people showing him the truth, and he's going to be the One, yay!" it's "Neo is trapped in a hell no one else can see and there's nothing he can do about it."

"You call this a choice?" and variants of it, is said throughout the film by various characters...

Smith/Morpheus says the choice between a blue pill and a red pill isn't much of a choice. [M4 0:11:22] Bugs agrees, but says it's just an illusion because everyone who is offered the choice is going to pick the red pill. It's offered because the person offering the pills knows what they will pick.

The red pill is there to give the feeling that you are making some sort of choice. But really, as the Oracle put it in M2, "you've already made the choice." In M1, Neo had "already made the choice" to escape the Matrix, by seeking out Morpheus in the first place.

...And then after he was freed, Neo was taught what the Matrix actually is, and so "understood the choice." That's why he went to Morpheus; to understand his "choice" or motivation to "exit" the world. It's a little mind-bendy, but if you squint it sorta works.

Later, Neo, in Thomas-form, is told by Smith, in Boss-form (yeah I knew this was going to be confusing)... that Warner Brothers has offered the choice of make the sequel or watch them make it. [M4 0:19:43] Thomas doesn't want to lose control over something he's worked so hard to make, so they must choose to make that sequel.

This parallels the apparent situation Warner Brothers put the Wachowskis in regarding this movie, in fact. I have no idea how this whole thing made it into Resurrections, to be honest. But there' a lot of meta nods about this in the film.

Neo is locked up by old-curmudgeon-Niobe for reasons, and Morph (what I like to call the slightly odd cartoon-character version of Morpheus in this movie) talks about breaking out.

MORPH: Well, I could tell you that they're standing by, waiting for you to make the choice to remain meekly incarcerated... or bust the [heck] out of here and go and find Trinity. But that ain't a choice.

Which is a little tonally different, but if you're going to the trouble of using very similar phrasing throughout the script, then any instance of it is definitely on purpose.

Morph is telling Neo he has to bust out and save Trinity. Neo has kind of regressed. Both in the fact he's back stuck in the Matrix at the start... but also he's not making any decisions in this film, pretty much. He's just along for the ride.

Which is a shame, considering how far he'd come in M1.

Anyway, they run, do some fighting, and Neo chats to Trinity but comes back empty-handed. Back in the ship, Bugs gets a call from the german guy.

SHEPERD: Check your long-range scans. Squids are combing this area. ... You can stay here and die, or come back and face a court-martial. MORPH: And you call that a choice?

They're not going to choose death. So they must go back and get told off my Granny Niobe.

They go back again. (There's a lot of running back and forth between IO and the Matrix in this film isn't there? Seems pretty redundant.) And for no apparent reason Niobe decides to help them get Trinity out this time.

Sati from M3, now a grown up program, talks with Niobe and Neo. Admits that she knew Neo and Trinity were out there somewhere.

NIOBE: I'm sorry, you knew what happened to him? You knew that he and Trinity both were alive... and you didn't tell me? SATI: There were times I doubted my decision, Niobe. But I/O needed you. The city needed to be built, for your people as well as mine. If I would have told you everything, you would have had a very difficult choice to make. NIOBE: My friends let me make my own choices.

Again, the choice was made for her. She wasn't even offered a fake choice in this case.

In Resurrections, this is actually a step up from M2 & 3. The film has a lot of flaws, but there are no sit-down chats about what choice is as a concept, and what it means to have no choice.

The way the theme--or this theme at least--was written into the story worked just fine in Resurrections. It does make it clear what the theme is, by repeating it with similar phrasing each time. But at least it all fits with the story being told.

(The story being told, I didn't find to be that compelling for many other reasons. But let's not get side-tracked...)

In Reloaded and Revolutions, it was just too high-falutin and wordy. Too much philosophy-major, not enough writing-major (or something). I, and others I'm sure, got a bit bored during the wordy parts... but not because it wasn't 100% action, but because the conversations weren't connecting to the story and therefore we had no reason to be interested.

And the way the theme was used in the story--Neo searching for motivation--left the other parts of the story lacking. Because they literally had no motivation most of the time for Neo's storyline.

But I think the original, The Matrix, really is a shining example of how theme works.

It's not in your face. Could even be that the writers weren't thinking that hard about themes, and they just wrote the story as they saw it... and my analysis of it is just me making connections anyway. But if they did come up with the theme they wanted to explore and then build the story around it, they did such an amazing job that it seemed effortless!

On first viewing the theme went unnoticed to me. Even by the 20th viewing, I knew it was about choice in some abstract way--where Neo essentially "chose" for the bullets to stop, chose to live, chose to save Morpheus, etc. But analysing what's really going on, what's true and untrue, the undercurrent of manipulation--even if used for good--etc... really let me see the depths of the themes here.

As a side-note, just for me, there's a repeating motif the Wachowskis seem to like making in each sequel, which also rubbed me up the wrong way. I won't go in depth now, but progress just kept on being reset over and over again. Power creep and "oh look shiny new thing" slid the world around over time, making it all feel less solid... And worse, those who were really into the worldbuilding were let down by such changes, and by the writers ignoring what was set up in the previous stories, instead of being rewarded for their interest. Ugh.

Anyway... that's enough from me. Maybe I'll speak more on this series. There's a lot to talk about. Or maybe I'll move on to something else to learn from next!

[gingerbreadmonsters]

Can you share the name/link to your favourite vincent/lovely fic? I trust your judgement

I am going to dump…many here that I read very often and love n cherish <33

[Also if you’re one of these authors of these fics 1. I love you 2. If you’re uncomfortable with me tagging you please let me know and I’ll remove the tag <3]

https://archiveofourown.org/works/40893393

Written by @haradasaya

https://archiveofourown.org/works/37715236/chapters/94158310

Written by @ejunkiet

https://archiveofourown.org/works/38750994

Written by @gingerbreadmonsters

https://archiveofourown.org/works/40086456/chapters/100394430

Written by @thesunandmoons-blog

https://archiveofourown.org/works/4034977

Written by @cottagecorexboy

[joshslater]

Dionysus

Similar stories and bonus material on my Patreon.

I was very hesitant when he picked me up at the nightclub. I could feel the disappointment and outright hostility from all the women and a lot of the men as the God walked up to me, started to make out, and then asked if I was up for some fun. That's what you get away with when no one ever says "no" I thought. With his incredibly handsome face, black hair, and athletic build that was probably not a word he was used to hearing. It would be impossible for him to know I was into guys, and coming on so strong could land you in hot water or rather knocked cold on the floor. Turns out he could know, and there was more to him than just utter handsomeness and unparalleled confidence. Way more.

It was back at his place he asked me if I could look like someone else, who would I pick? That's a game I've played many times before, so I instantly knew to answer Marco Albieri, the soccer player. He raised an eyebrow, took a step from me, and asked me why. "I don't know what it is about soccer players, but something about the game makes their bodies stunningly handsome. And Marco is just a step above the rest." He smiled a bright smile, made a dramatic gesture, and I was Marco. Looked exactly like him at least. It took me a moment to even realize what had just happened, but I could see myself in the full-length mirror. Or I couldn't, I should say. I saw Marco Albieri in full Paris Saint-Germain F.C. game kit. Mesmerized I took a step closer to the mirror, and Marco on the other side of the glass stepped closer as well. I looked just like him, my wettest, wankiest dream. I'd come so many times to exactly this fantasy. There was even a sheen of post-game sweat making all the skin glistening in his hallway designer lights.

He approached me from behind, still handsome but now by a much narrower margin. "You ready to fuck?" I didn't even answer but just turned around and kissed him. He wasn't shy in grouping me back. What followed was the longest fuck fest I've ever been part of. We went from room to room. It was like this body had limitless stamina, though it was the body of Marco after all, but an insatiable horny lust as well. Perhaps he had that too. It wasn't until early morning I fell asleep next to him, exhausted.

It was almost noon when I woke up, disoriented by everything. It was like it wasn't until now the craziness and impossibility of last night hit me. I could see Marco Albieri in the mirror at the other side of the bedroom, without shirt, and the most unkempt hair I had ever seen him with. I knew for a fact the secret hairstyling trick was body fluids. I suddenly felt very uneasy and exposed. Vulnerable even. I was here on vacation. How could I leave if I didn't look like my passport? How could I leave this building looking like Marco? There would be fans stopping me instantly. What the fuck am I thinking about? I'm erased from the world. No one I know, no one in my family would recognize me. Could I convince them I'm me and not a millionaire soccer player? Perhaps. But my life would be so complicated.

That's when he lazily strolled into the bedroom, completely naked showing off his chiseled body, one mug in each hand.

"You did this! How the fuck did you do this? You can't leave me like this!" "Morning!"

He handed me one of the mugs. On reflex I took a large sip of coffee only to discover it was red wine. It took me by surprise and I almost sprayed his white sheets with red mist of wine, but instead got some down my lungs and started to cough.

"Is this really the best you can think of?" he said. At first I had no idea what he meant. Then, still coughing, I realized it was my body again. The one I used to fly here, check into the hotel, and go out to nightclubs with.

"I... It's awfully inconvenient if I tried to leave with a different body." "That's it? That's the only reason?"

I felt stupid and unsure what to say. I liked my body, so why was it so hard to defend it? He took a large sip from his coffee mug of wine and climbed into bed next to me, but standing on his knees looking down on me.

"When's your flight back?" "Eh, in... On Sunday." "Plenty of time to let loose. How about going to the beach like this?"

This time I noticed the shift. The bed sagged down a bit under the extra load and I didn't even have to look in the mirror to see the freakish muscles. Two huge chest muscles peeked into my field of vision, and moving my arm I could see it was thicker than what my legs used to be.

I felt light-headed as we walked down to the beach. Probably the wine. He was subtle and classy, black Nike sneakers, black boardshorts, and a white T-shirt. I was anything but subtle. Probably twice his mass, annoying flip flops that flipped and flopped every step, white compression shorts that looked blindingly bright against my deep tan, a purple thong that peeked up over the rim of the shorts by the hips, visible because the neon yellow tank top was cropped above the belly button to show off the abs. The stringer waved for every step as my obscene pecs push out the yellow fabric like a hanging flag. It touched my body in surprisingly few places. Top of the traps and the nipples more or less.

After spending a few hours getting everyone passing by on the beach to turn their heads to observe the freak show he asked me to play floatation device for him. We went out in the water and did our best to have sex just outside where the waves broke. I think anyone who paid close attention could tell what we did, but no one could be really sure. He didn't appear to care.

"I made you something," he whispered. "What?" "A surfer," he said and begun walking towards the beach. As I wiped my long hair out of my face I understood he changed me again. No more shaved head, no more enormous meat slab. I still had a six-pack, I was still 6'-something, and my skin was deeply tanned, but that's about where the similarities ended. "Why?" I asked as I lied down on the beach towel next to his. "First dive bar opens soon, and I thought this would play better to the crowd." I was feeling woozy. "We want to play to the crowd?" He reached over and squeezed the pec closest to him. "Well, make them jealous at least."

There was something nagging at the edge of my thoughts. Some question I felt I needed to ask. I just couldn't quite put it into coherent thought.

"Did you drug me?" He made a high-pitched "Mmmm" sound. "Just a bit. To fit with the rest. Just go with it."

I shut my eyes, relaxed, and let his hand stroke me. I don't know how long we lied like that. Not too long, because the sun hadn't moved that much, but I sure did dozed off.

"Come on!" he said, like it was asking me to hurry up for the third time. A bit confused I got up from the beach towel. I wore a pair of eye-popping turquoise board shorts with black pattern and trim. Neon turquoise, if such a color was a thing. I knew it had a real trade name, but somehow it kept slipping my mind. They had a good fit, not loose, not tight, but rode low on my lithe body. Fuzzy pubes peeked out over the waistband, like a little forest edge where the treasure trail from the belly button ended. I looked around for a shirt or something to put on, but there was nothing except for a pair of flip-flops. These didn't look as cheap and fit much better than the previous pair though.

"Is that it?" I asked incredulously. "What more do you need?" he said, and looked at me like he wanted me for dinner. "Come!"

The bar wasn't far away and already busy when we arrived. He almost danced in, basically dragging me in, holding my hand. I was woozy from whatever I was drugged with, but in a way that made everything look amazing to me. In any direction I looked I was delighted by what I saw, no matter how mundane. The bar was not even half full and everyone looked as relaxed as you would expect from a bar half a block from the beach, though no one else was bare-chested. The decor was a random mix of styles, as expected by a dive bar. Tables for two or four were lined up in front of the bar at the back of the room. From a backroom somewhere behind it pumped music. I looked at my watch to see if it was already dance time, but I was only wearing a red nylon cord as a bracelet.

"You must be thirsty after a day in the sun," he said and handed me an Aperol Spritz. I could have sworn he hadn't left me for the bar, but then I didn't really trust my senses. We took a table for four and sat next to each other, facing the rest of the room. "So, tell me about your day," he continued, as if he hadn't been there for all of it.

For whatever reason I found it hard to figure out where to start, like it was all jumbled together despite nothing of consequence had happened. I began to describe how I had woken up in bed and how he surprised me with breakfast. How I had mistaken the red wine for coffee. I could feel his hand moving down my abs and into my board shorts. As he pulled out my erect cock from the shorts my immediate thought was of surprise. I hadn't realized I was hard. I continued to talk about how we went to the beach, while he was jerking me off with one hand under the table. It then hit me that I had no idea what my dick looked like, if it was big or small. I had never seen it. He had transformed me somehow into this surfer. How could I have forgotten something so monumental.

At that point I shot my load under the table. Four or five large pumps. I was suddenly aware again that there were people around us, and looking around tried to figure out if any of them could see I had my dick out. At the same time I was still feeling high or whatever it was. "I'll get a refill," he said, stood up and headed for the bar. I decided to put my dick back into the shorts.

"Hey, dude. Is he like your boyfriend?" someone standing next to me asked. How long had he been there? He was handsome, not quite as tall as I was now, but more muscled. The tight billabong shirt didn't hide much. "Him? No. We just..." I was trying to think of a good word. I wasn't sure what he was, or what was happening at all really. "Wanna check out the dance floor?" "Yeah... Yeah, I would."

I followed him towards the bar, and away to the side into the dance room. It was far from packed, but we were not alone at least. Immediately I regretted following him there, even before he started moving to the music. Once he did I knew I would look silly. I started to mimic his moves best I could. He smiled a crooked smile, though not an unkind one, when he saw what I was doing. He leaned forward and barely audible over the music asked "Are you up for a second round?"

"What do you mean?" I asked back. "I saw what that other dude did to you. I live nearby, if you want to try something that isn't over in minutes."

In the door opening I see him standing with two large drinks in his hands. He looks emotionless, which in itself was a scary contrast to how he looked before. He then drinks one of the drinks in one go, then immediately empties the other one as well. No sooner has he turned away with two empty glasses when I feel a desperate need to take a piss. He's fucking with me.

"Don't go anywhere," I say and dash towards to men's room.

It's empty. I go to the lone urinal and yank my dick out of the white thong. I'm confused, but happy I got there in time to relieve myself. Why am I wearing only a white thong to a bar? As the piss is streaming for longer than I can ever recall I look down my bare smooth legs and find a pair of eye-catching red hightops. When I'm finally done I have a look at myself in the mirror. Cute, young Latino boy with a red baseball cap on his unkempt hair, and a grey shirt. The shirt in a way makes the thong stand out even more and look intentionally inappropriate. Perfect!

I return to the dance floor and find the guy waiting. "There you are. Let's go!" he says, almost demanding. He doesn't say anything on the way to his apartment two blocks away. I keep looking his way, and it feels like my dick is growing bigger every time I look at those muscled arms. His pace is brisk without being conspicuous, he clearly wants us to get to his place as quickly as possible without being seen. In through an unlocked entrance, up two flights of stairs, and in through his apartment door.

As soon as he whisked me in and closed the door behind us he grabs me, shoves me into the wall next to us, and forcefully kisses me on my mouth. "You fucking whore! I'm so fucking horny you better know what you're doing."

He snores loudly again. I had tried to ignore it to spend a few more hours in the bed, but it's getting pointless to try to sleep any more. I carefully get up and get dressed. No need for a shower, now that everything dried. I make a final check I got everything with me that I brought in. There is that nagging feeling that I'm missing something. Well, whatever it was it can't be important. Quietly I exit his apartment and make my way out of the building. I feel restless being so quiet and calm, like it is unnatural for me to be that way. I basically explode in emotions as I exit the building and literally dance down the last few steps.

I try to think what to do next. My mind is like a spinning punch bowl of thoughts and I'm only able to fish out simple verbs. Party! Drink! Dance! Fuck! The sun is barely up, but perhaps I can find some nightclub still open.

[optimistpax]

Do you know what order to read the IDW comics in, and/or where to read them all?

I think it kinda depends what interests you about the comics! I haven’t read all the comics (yet) so there might be more comprehensive lists out there depending on what you’re looking for, but here are my opinions on some possible places to get started! The one nice thing about how messy American comics can get is it’s not as important to read them in a particular order.

TLDR: Try starting with either the 2019 comics (Transformers (2019): vol. 1 the world in your eyes) or more than meets the eye (Transformers vol. 1: more than meets the eye). There is a high probability that you will be able to find both at your local library digitally if not in print!

First you’re gonna wanna choose a continuity. I’m assuming you’re probably thinking of the later bits of the 2005 run bc that’s what’s popular here, but I’m gonna talk about both of them just in case!

IDW2 (2019-2022)

IDW2 is the newer of the two IDW continuities. I’m putting it first because it’s shorter and easy to get into since it only started in 2019 and will be wrapping up sometime this summer (2022). You start with Transformers (2019) Vol. 1: The World in Your Eyes and go from there! Straightforward numbered volumes my beloved. There are also beast wars and shattered glass comics that are (will be?) collected in their own volumes if that interests you but they’re separate from the main series.

IDW2 is also easy to get into because all of the main series ebooks (so far) are available on overdrive (the provider for library ebooks) so if you have a library card you can access it through your library’s preferred ebook platform (usually hoopla or libby)!

idw2 has really beautiful art, a large cast of characters, and the plot kicks off with a murder mystery on a previously crime-free cybertron before the war. So if that’s your jam it’s a good place to start with transformers comics!

IDW1 (2005-2019)

IDW1 is a little more complicated to get into due to its longer run time, but there are a couple different built in jumping on points that IDW tried to add for readers who wanted to get into it later but didn’t want to read 200+ issues first.

The most obvious possibility is to read the comics chronologically, starting with Transformers: Infiltration. There are loads of lists online to find out what series comes next! The downside of reading them all chronologically of course is that there are SO MANY comics and the quality varies wildly. Aside from the crossover comics, Infiltration probably has the heaviest influence from the G1 cartoon and the marvel comics in terms of art style in the IDW comics. It’s set on earth jn the middle of the cybertronian war. It’s a little clunky but it’s also kinda fun, so if that’s your jam it might be a good place to start!

Then we get into the comics I haven’t read so I can’t really speak to them, but I think All Hail Megatron was also built in as a possible jumping on point? You would have to find someone who has read more comics than me to figure that out though.

The Last Stand of the Wreckers miniseries works pretty well as a stand-alone story imo so if you’re looking to dip your toes in and are looking for a good, tense War Story that’s a possible place to start as well! It is also available digitally through most libraries and works well as smth optional to read either before or with mtmte to add some context to volume 2!

You can also start with what is afaik the most popular IDW series, More Than Meets the Eye. The first volume starts with the one shot The Death of Optimus Prime (which I would recommend trying to start with if you’re not reading the volumes) and the rest of the series follows the crew of the lost light on their post-war space road trip. The writing is snappy and the art is really nice. Most people start here (myself included) and it’s the best place in IDW1 to start reading imo! As for order you can read all of mtmte, take or leave dark cybertron, and then read Lost Light without too many problems I believe. Lost Light and the first half of mtmte can all also be found digitally in the library!

Mtmte has a sister series Robots in Disguise (which later changes its name to just The Transformers I think?). It happens concurrent to mtmte so if you read the two series at the same time you will have a better idea of what’s going on during the cross over event, but you don’t have to. It’s more of a political drama set on Cybertron as it rebuilds after the war, which isn’t really my jam but it might be yours! There are other series that might be related to this one like Windblade? And Optimus Prime? But hell if know what order they all go in. These series can be found in some libraries but it’s more touch and go. They’re available in the library for the city i go to school in, but not the library for the city I’m from so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

And that’s all I’ve got! Hopefully you find this a little bit helpful and I hope you have lots of fun reading transformers comics! I know I sure am :)

[shera-dnd]

HERE IT IS! The sequel to Venomous Spider and the first big fic of the WDEF!

This was meant to be done last week, but then those road blocks meant I couldn't get T blockers for a week and the end result was uh... not fun.

Anyways have a lovely story about Venom trying to talk to their sister about the fact they're an alien creature now... which ended up sounding a lot like they were trying to come out as nonbinary

well hope you enjoy the read

“Coming through!” Ruby called as she swung past a few pedestrians. 

Most of them ducked out of the way, but at least one of them tried to snap a picture of her in all her spider glory. 

Come on, that was Ruby’s job! 

How else is she gonna pay the bills if someone else starts getting famous taking pictures of Spidergirl?

Crime doesn’t pay and all that, but stopping crime wasn’t exactly a monetarily rewarding job either.

Ah, right, stopping crime. That’s what she was doing. Silly her.

Ruby swung up as high as she could get, before straightening her body and diving down as fast as she could. 

One quick web and all that downward force turned into forward momentum, sending her rocketing down the streets.

With a twirl, she dispersed the excess force and landed on the roof of a moving car. The getaway vehicle for a group of armed robbers.

“Guys, come on, it’s my day off,” Ruby complained.

One of the thugs inside rolled down the window to try to get his gun out, but Ruby leaned over and webbed his arm to the car door. The man on the other seat tried to do the same, leaning over so he could get an angle on her. 

Her hand was already extended and ready to web him to the root of the car, but then she felt the all too familiar feeling of a web attaching itself to the back of her costume, followed by the whiplash of intense deceleration.

The concrete wall of a skyscraper met Ruby’s back, and she let out an exaggerated, “ouch!” at the impact, getting now properly stuck in the web.

Before her the getaway car was flipped over and into the air, almost barreling down onto the street before getting caught in a series of well placed webs.

Everything had been executed with a precision and grace that Ruby lacked, and only one other webslinger really had.

A figure in white and black landed in front of her with all the elegance of an olympic gymnast. It walked towards Ruby with a perfect posture, keeping its back straight even as it went from walking horizontally to vertically up the wall.

“Hey, Venom,” Ruby greeted awkwardly.

“Spidergirl,” they replied, coldly, “can you tell me what day it is?”

“Uh, Friday?" she tried.

“It’s your day off!” Venom growled, “what did we tell you about sneaking off to save the day like that?”

“That it’s irresponsible, unhealthy, and unsustainable,” Ruby droned off, having heard that lecture more than once, “and that I should be able to trust my partner to share the load.”

“Good,” they nodded. A wide toothy mouth formed on Venom’s mask, like their face had been split in half. They leaned in and a long tongue slid out and licked at Ruby’s face like an affectionate dog, “now promise you’ll trust us to handle things today.”

“I promise,” Ruby sighed.

“Good,” Venom answered, before jumping off and swinging away.

Leaving Ruby still very much attached to the wall.

“Uh, Venom?” she called, “babe? You can let me go now… Venom!?”

~~~

The next morning Ruby still felt sore from spending half an hour stuck to a hard wall.

Thankfully even Venom’s webbing dissipates over time, so she didn’t have to stay there all day waiting for the firemen to cut her free. 

That would have been embarrassing.

She stretched a few times after getting out of bed, her back making an unpleasant noise in the process, before making her way to the apartment’s kitchen/living room/only room besides the bedroom and the bathroom.

It was there that she found her missing girlfriend… girlfriends? 

She wasn’t sure. It had been a couple of months, but she wasn’t fully used to dating two entities sharing a single body. Not like that’s something she could have prepared for.

“Good morning,” she greeted, “someone was up late last night.”

Venom had been laying on the couch, checking their phone, only just now realizing she was there. 

All their goopy monster bits had once again retreated inside their body, leaving only the familiar face of Weiss Schnee to greet her. “Oh sorry, we ended up on the other side of the park and had to websling all the way around.”

Right. 

Swinging through low hanging trees was a terrible idea, and Ruby had found that out the bad way.

“Hey, as long as you two got enough sleep, it’s fine,” Ruby assured them as she walked over to the kitchen counter to start working on breakfast, “I did miss my cuddles though.”

“We promise we’ll compensate tonight,” Venom replied with a small smile.

“You better,” Ruby joked.

She hummed along to some half remembered song as she began to cook for the two of them. Though the breakfast she made could easily feed four, were it not for the fact that Venom needed to eat for two, and that Ruby had a habit of eating way more than she probably should.

Super powers meant a super metabolism, she guessed.

The entire time Venom stayed silent, just staring intently at their phone. 

Even as Ruby served up their food, their eyes never moved from that screen.

“Alright, what’s wrong?” Ruby demanded, crossing her arms.

“What?” They asked, finally looking up at her, “there’s nothing wrong.”

“You haven’t commented on my humming, you haven’t tried to steal any food,” Ruby listed, “it’s obvious something got you down.”

Venom sighed and deflated, before sliding their phone her way.

It showed multiple notifications for unread messages from Winter Schnee. The preview of the latest message read that she would be visiting over the weekend.

“Hey, your sister is coming to town?” Ruby asked, cheerfully.

“Should be here tomorrow,” Venom replied, sounding downright depressed.

“Isn’t that a good thing?” she asked.

“We just… we don’t know if we can lie to her,” they answered, and Ruby finally understood.

“I get that,” she assured them, placing a hand on their shoulder, “lying to dad and Yang, and even you, was really hard on me too. I know it’s difficult to hide this stuff from the people you love, but it’s for their own safety.”

“No, you don’t understand!” They growled, teeth growing sharp and eyes turning fully black, “when you’re with them you’re still Ruby. You don’t have to pretend to be anyone else. How can we look into our sister’s eyes and pretend to be Weiss again?”

Oh, right. 

Of course Ruby didn’t understand. She wasn’t the one who had to keep the mask on every moment of her life.

The transformation receded once again, revealing their anguished human face underneath. “Should we tell her?” They whispered.

Ruby was definitely not the person to ask that, considering how this whole symbiote thing started.

“That’s up to you,” she answered, “whatever you decide, I’ll be there with you.”

That did nothing to assuage Venom’s worries.

“What if she hates us?” they worried, “what if she only sees us as a monster?”

“Venom,” Ruby called, holding both of their shoulders and turning them to look her in the eye, “she is your sister, she loves you.”

“No,” they muttered, “she loves Weiss. She doesn’t know us.”

“Hey, I love Weiss too, but that doesn’t mean I can’t love Venom,” Ruby assured, giving their shoulders a little squeeze, “you may be a new person, but there’s still a part of you that is Weiss, but happier, more herself. Your sister has to understand that you love yourself more as Venom than you did as Weiss.”

Venom looked up at her, eyes holding back tears, “thank you, Ruby,” they answered, their voice quiet, “we think… we think we’ll tell her the truth.

“Okay,” Ruby nodded and kissed their forehead, “do you want me there with you for that?”

They seemed to consider that for a moment, before shaking their head, “no. This is something we have to deal with by ourselves.”

“Alright,” she answered with a smile, “now how about we have breakfast before all that food goes cold?”

~~~

Ruby had to admit she was a bit nervous.

Okay, more like a lot nervous.

Yeah, she had reassured Venom half a dozen times the previous day, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t be worried about their safety. Especially when her sister was with the military, and her boss sure didn’t take too kindly to parahumans.

She still remembers getting shot at by one of Ironwood’s security robots, and she didn't want Venom on the receiving end of that.

So maybe she put on her Spidergirl costume, and maybe she stalked the sisters for a bit to make sure everything was fine. 

And maybe she took a web ball to the stomach as soon as Venom realized what she was doing.

Plan B then. Trusting her girlfriend to know what’s best for them, to be able to open up to their sister, and defend themselves if need be. That meant giving them space, and letting herself relax and stop worrying so much.

Oh who was she kidding? 

She was pacing around the apartment, checking her phone every five minutes.

At first it felt silly. 

Winter was a caring and protective sister. She had loved Weiss with her entire heart, and she would love Venom too. Her loyalties to the general didn’t matter compared to her love for her family.

Then hours went by without a sign, and that nervousness began to take root again. What if Ruby was wrong? What if Venom was at risk? What if Winter saw splitting them apart as protecting her sister?

Crap. 

Should she go look for them? Where would she even look? What if Venom came back while she was away?

More and more hours piled on, and Ruby found herself texting them. Just some simple check-ins at first, but the longer she went without an answer the more desperate her texts became.

This was bad. This was really bad. 

Night was falling and there was still no sign of Venom.

Then there was a call.

Ruby nearly jumped from the couch when she heard her phone vibrate, stumbling over herself on her way to the counter where she left it.

It was an unknown number. She cursed, furious that some random bot was calling her when Venom could be in danger. 

One touch and the call was rejected.

Then it rang again. Same number.

One more touch. 

One more call.

Whoever this was they were really desperate to get in contact with… oh no.

In a panic she answered the third call and put her phone to her ear. “Venom!?”

There was a sniffle from the other side, “it’s… Weiss. Winter, she… she split us apart.”

~~~

The sounds of heavy marching boots echoed through the hallway of the military base. It was the sound of Winter Schnee keeping up with the brisk pace of her superior officer.

“Any results from the specimen?” General Ironwood asked, not bothering to look her way.

“None yet, sir,” Winter informed him, “it seems its biology is… incomplete without a host body. Besides its susceptibility to certain sound frequencies, our tests have been inconclusive.”

The stern man nodded, taking in the new information, before issuing his new command, “well, what are we waiting for? Set up the sonic disruptors so we can keep it in check, and find it a host body for further testing.”

Straight to the point. 

Unfortunately she had thought of this already.

“About that,” she began, “the specimen has refused to bond with any other life forms since it was extracted. We assumed it had a preference for human DNA, but even our volunteers have not been able to bond with it.”

This time Ironwood paused, scratching his beard and he gave this problem further thought, “you mean it has refused every host except your sister?”

Even as Winter tried to contain her reaction, it was impossible to keep her eyes from widening at that thought. He couldn’t be implying what she thought he was.

“Sir… you don’t mean…”

Seeming to notice her internal conflict he placed a hand on her shoulder and reassured her, “I won’t ask you to experiment on your own sister. That thing will have to accept a new host eventually, or let itself starve to death.”

Winter couldn’t help the sigh of relief that escaped her at that. “Thank you, sir.”

“Now, speaking of Weiss,” he continued, “how is she holding up?”

Weiss. 

God, Weiss…

Winter knew this was only the effect of the symbiote on Weiss’s psyche, but it still hurt her to see her little sister look at her with so much anger and hurt in her eyes. The idea that this creature had free reign to manipulate her like this for weeks, if not months, made Winter sick to her stomach.

“Weiss is still shaken from the experience,” Winter admitted, though the general could be spared the details on what that meant, “she had fallen asleep in my office not an hour ago. I should proba–”

She reached for her phone to message her sister, but she found that her pocket was empty. 

Had she forgotten her phone somewhere? 

No, she always kept track of those things. Besides last time she had looked at her phone she had been in her… office.

“You should probably check in on her,” Ironwood finished for her, granting her leave.

“Yes, sir,” she answered with a nervous nod, before turning to walk at an even faster pace towards her office.

Weiss wouldn’t have done that, right? 

She wouldn’t just steal Winter’s phone. 

Who would she even call? 

But that thing had changed her. It had turned her into something different. Maybe Weiss was still under its influence somehow and was trying to become “Venom” again.

Venom.

The symbiote had not been subtle with its intent. Poisoning Weiss’s body and mind, turning her into this creature.

Winter shoved open the door to her office and then slammed it shut behind her.

Weiss looked up at her, Winter’s phone to her ear, eyes wide with surprise.

“I love you! See you soon!” Weiss blurted out, before finishing the call and tossing the phone aside.

“What did you do!?” Winter demanded, stomping up to the desk.

“Calling our– my girlfriend,” Weiss deflected, “why do you care?”

Winter pinched the bridge of her nose, “Weiss, you stole an officer’s phone, and made an unauthorized call from inside a military base. Do you know how much trouble you’d be in if the general was the one barging through that door?”

Weiss just crossed her arms and stepped away, “I don’t know. Can’t be much worse than what you already put me through.”

The resentment in her voice made Winter flinch, her own frustration diminished by her worry for her sister’s health.

“It was for your own good,” Winter argued.

“What!?” Weiss shouted, “to kidnap us? Rip us apart? And then lock me up in your office for hours? How is any of this for my own good?”

“Us.” The creature still had its grip on her sister’s mind.

“Weiss, that thing was using you,” Winter insisted, “it was a parasite.”

“I told you, they would never do something like that to me,” Weiss pushed back, “they care about me, they understand me. We were together because we chose to be.”

No. 

No, that was absurd.

“That thing is an alien parasite, we have no idea what it could have done to you,” Winter continued, refusing to listen to her sister’s insanity, “how can you be sure this isn’t just that creature messing with your head?”

Weiss stepped forward and stared her in the eye, “because we chose each other. They chose me above anyone else, and I chose to let them in. We were both tired of being abandoned, so we chose to be together.”

Winter had to remind herself that this was just the alien’s influence, even if she didn’t doubt some of this came from Weiss’s true feelings. She had always struggled with loneliness, a struggle Winter had been less than successful at helping her with. 

Could she really have been so dejected that she’d rather become a monster than stay alone any longer?

And the symbiote, though it was clearly echoing Weiss’s own feelings to trick her, why did it bother? 

Unless the host was able to actively reject the bond, at least at first. 

It also came for Weiss instead of anyone else? 

Had her emotional turmoil made her an easier prey or perhaps–

“It chose to bond with you,” Winter repeated, “because you were compatible.”

“That’s what I’ve been saying,” Weiss argued, “we understand each other.”

“No, Weiss,” she corrected, “you’re genetically compatible. It doesn’t have a preference for human DNA. It had a preference for yours specifically.”

“What’s that supposed to mean!?”

Winter grabbed her phone and turned back towards the door, “it means I know the perfect test subject.”

~~~

The test chamber was a quiet, clean place. The glass that formed this square room was not only bullet proof, but also sound proof, as to keep the creature from escaping and the sonic disruptors from affecting the scientists outside. Meaning that, with the exception of the installed intercom, Winter was truly isolated from the outside world.

“Are you sure about this?” came the general’s voice through the intercom.

Winter knew he wouldn’t be able to hear her, so she simply nodded and stepped forward.

In the center of the chamber sat a metal canister containing the inky black blob that comprised the symbiote’s body. Their studies had shown it had very limited senses when not bonded, so it shouldn’t be able to tell it was a different person approaching it now.

Carefully she opened the canister and spilled its contents onto her hand.

The creature’s body was malleable, and yet far more solid than it first appeared, seeming to be able to tense and flex its body as necessary.

At first it simply hung from Winter’s hand, stretching itself down under its own weight. Then it reacted.

“My matching half.”

The creature began to pull itself up, its main body spreading itself over Winter’s hand and forearm like a glove.

“I missed you. I was so lonely.”

Its color began to change from black to white as it continued to climb over her body.

“How I missed being us.”

A sense of sadness and longing overwhelmed her, like a wave that swallowed over all of her other emotions.

“No. No! The halves don’t match!”

Then there was anger. Bright and burning.

“What did you do to her? What did you do to Weiss!?”

Winter fell backwards as the symbiote rippled and screeched. It was a terrible sound, and one Winter didn’t even know it was capable of creating. 

The thing formed a large and terrible maw, easily half its body mass turning into sharp teeth.

“What did you do to Weiss?” the creature gurgled as it prepared to bite off Winter’s throat.

Why hadn’t the disruptors gone off? What was the general waiting for?

A whistle blew through the test chamber, and both her and the creature turned to look at its source. 

It was… Spidergirl?

“Hey, sorry I’m late,” the masked vigilante said casually, “I was busy chatting up the general.”

She gestured back at the command desk, on which both the general, the scientists, and the armed guards found themselves webbed to.

“Now come here, baby girl,” Spidergirl called, “let’s get you back to your better half.”

What? 

No! 

What was she doing? 

She couldn’t be doing this!

The symbiote did not share in her disbelief. It let go of Winter’s body and bounded over to Spidergirl, fusing itself to her costume with extreme ease.

Before Winter could respond to the shock, the vigilante had already webbed her way out of the room.

No. No! 

She couldn’t let her get back to Weiss. She wasn’t going to lose her sister like that again.

She forced herself up to her feet and tripped her way out of the chamber. One look was all she spared to her trapped companions before the general commanded, “go!”

It was all she needed to hear.

Stopping only to grab her side arm, she rushed through the corridors of the base, more and more webbed up soldiers lining the walls.

The doors to the main entrance were flung open, the red forest that surrounded the base spreading out before her. 

And Spidergirl ran ahead, getting ready to websling through the trees.

Winter took her shot, twice, but both times the vigilante dodged her bullets without even looking back. Before she could make a third shot, Spidergirl already swung into the woods.

She knew she could not catch up to her, not on foot, but in her desperation she still tried, hanging webs guiding her path.

Her body strained - even with her spectacular physical condition - as she tried to keep pace with the swinging hero. Having to vault over fallen logs and jump over ditches that Spidergirl simply ignored. 

By the time Winter had caught up her lungs were burning, her muscles ached, but still she clung to her pistol and forced herself to step forward.

Weiss was waiting for them in a clearing, nervously twitching and pacing around. Winter wanted to approach her, but before she could take another step Spidergirl landed in front of her with her arms spread open.

“Missed us?” she asked.

Crap. 

This was her last chance. 

Winter had to stop her now before that creature could bond with Weiss again.

She steady her gun, aiming at Spidergirl. Just one shot. It was all she needed.

But if she missed, then Weiss…

Could she risk that?

Winter hesitated, and her chance was gone.

Weiss jumped into Spidergirl’s arms and pulled her into a tight hug. 

The symbiote split itself free from the costume, before enveloping Weiss once again. Blacks and reds changed into whites and blues, matching Weiss’s usual aesthetic in a way that almost seemed deliberate.

There was a chuckle, then a laugh, then a cackle. 

The creature pushed Spidergirl aside as it laughed louder and louder. Its combined voice echoing the words.

“We. Are. Venom!”

“What did you do!?” Winter shouted and stepped into the clearing, any attempts at subterfuge completely thrown aside.

Spidergirl jumped in to keep her away, arms spread protectively. “Wait, wait, wait. Give them a moment.”

Then the laughter died down to a childish giggle. Venom hugged itself, before jumping and twirling in place.

“We’re us again. We’re us again,” they cheered, the symbiote’s form retreating back into Weiss’s body, revealing a face that cried tears of joy, “oh, we missed being us so much.”

“What?” Winter asked, confused.

Weiss- no, the creature - stepped back fear clear in its face. Clear in her sister’s face. 

Winter hated having to see her sister look at her like that.

“Hey, how about you let Venom explain themselves a bit?” Spidergirl offered, “they’ve been meaning to talk to you for a while now.”

The creature carefully stepped closer, and Spidergirl stepped aside.

“Weiss really meant what she said,” it spoke, “we chose each other. We were alone and hurting and… and we thought maybe we could keep each other company. Keep each other safe.”

No. 

No, that was a lie. 

It was the symbiote’s manipulation again. 

It had to be.

“And you took that away from us. You ripped us apart, forced us to be alone again, tried to trick us,” there was hurt in their eyes, and Winter had to convince herself that it wasn’t real, “but you’re still our sister.”

Her gun shook in her hands.

“When we came to you and told you who we were it was because we wanted to be with you,” it sounded almost pleading as it stepped closer to her, “we didn’t want to lie to you or hide who we were. You are our family, maybe our only real family, and we just wanted you to be able to love us the way you used to.”

That 's right. 

The creature had outed itself to her on purpose. 

Why would it do that? What could be the motivation for something like that? 

Unless it…

“We know we’re not the Weiss you remember,” they continued, opening their arms to her, “but we still want to be your family. If you still want to be ours.”

…unless it was telling the truth.

Tears stung her eyes and her gun slipped from her grip, falling to the leaf covered ground with a thud.

Venom threw themselves at her, arms wrapping in a tight, almost desperate, hug.

“I’m sorry,” Winter whispered, arms slowly moving to hold her sibling, “I’m sorry I put you through all this.”

Venom leaned into the touch and assured her, “it’s okay. We just wanted our sister back.”

[hopeless-ro-simptic]

Familiar Cerulean Eyes- Pt 19

Click Here for a full list of other parts! Part 20

Warnings: Angsty Shiggy, this gets a little fluffy. Next chapter is worse. 

Word Count: Just under 2k

I would like to say thank you so much to those of you who have been patiently waiting on me to update this story. I got really stuck on this chapter and wasn’t sure how I wanted to get from point A to point B but after for freaking ever it’s finally done. We are having a little bit of calm before the storm and I think this is a really cute idea. Getting to the end guys, things are going to be going down in just a few more chapters. Thank you so much for all the support on this! 

TAGLIST:   @superblyspeedydragon @jparra4587 @flyingowls @emrysaf @imuziawi @sheedaabee @peculiarinsomniac @littlelovebug98 @plutoneu @giftofwonder @kitty-kat-ash @fukyouthink @anarchys-bnha-mess @threbony @orenjineki @toobsessedsstuff @bamf-barnes @x-a-delama-x @inanabsentia @reallyshey @godsblesstheboi @drownedbytears @emilymikado @fluidfandoms  @mikasackrmann @bohica160 @andrastesbeard  @percabethismyotp14 @celestiallustre @moon-spirit-yue @hecatve @bakugoshrimp @vanillanjin @toshiuwuu @rxinbowrena @therealwalmartjesus @callmepopcorn @xxdumb-bitchxx @medicinalkiwis @kat-unzel @headfirst-halo @capricorn-nightmare @annie-daetris @skumtrash @totorotoni @kst-chernish @itsmysticalmystery @the-occasional-artist1125 @beautifulparisiangirl @stanzastic @helena-way07 @aurorahoneybuns @cth-l @nightlygiggless @filledasaf  @hailstorm888 @ozzy-bozzy @girrawr13 @hawkssnugget @dabilittleslut @over-grown-emo-kid @sasageyowrites @littledustyflame @h0wab0utw3d0ntd0that @thefirewasfriendly @babayaga67 @kiegosbby​ @foxes-and-arrows 

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“Sir we have eyes on the target.”

“How many times do I have to tell you coffee is not a target. It’s a beverage. You’re not funny.”

“N-No sir, I mean… S-shigaraki. I have eyes on Shigaraki.” The sidekick tried to whisper so not to alarm the surrounding civilians. They didn’t want to incite a panic.

“What?! Where?!” The hero screamed into the cellphone making the side kick wince and pull it from their ear, gaining a few glances.

“Electronics store, south side.” The side kick rattled off the address, there eyes glued to black hoodied figure, fear freezing them in place as they watched from the café across the street. What are the odds of locating the number 1 villain in Japan while just picking up the team’s morning coffee? The hero continued to rant and ask questions into the cellphone but the sidekick’s brain was numb, watching as the blue haired villain just, casually, wandered over to the electronic stores counter, setting down what looked like some controllers and cords for the new console that was out, and just…. Paid?

What the fuck.

“…Do you hear me? Do not engage, but do not lose him. We need to know where he goes.” The side kick zoned back in on the instructions that the hero was giving. Mentally kicking themselves. They were a professional. They needed to be calm.

“Yes sir. I will track the target…. What should I do about the coffee?”

“Are you kidding me? Screw the coffee!”

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

You watched as Shigaraki walked into the bar, barely giving you an annoyed glare when you took a cautious sniff as he entered the room. He smelled just faintly of honey… and something else… but you left it alone, not wanting to incur the alpha’s wrath again after last time. Still, your brain questioned as to if that soft lingering scent was of an omega… and if so was it just a random one.. or the one that he had been hiding away from everyone else?

“Did Tomura just walk in? I don’t think I’ve ever seen him walk anywhere. I thought he was an invalid since Kurogiri is always just teleporting him wherever he wants to go.” Dabi’s voice made your lips raise in a smile, leaning back against him as he came up behind where you were sitting at the bar, a bowl of ramen in front of you, feeling yourself warm up as he slipped his arms around your waist leaning down and kissing the top of your head.

“He insisted I stay here in case of a raid. A split second could mean the difference between us all getting caught or getting away. We don’t have One for All to save us this time.” Kurogiri shut down the conversation with a pointed look. Clearly, he knew better than to gossip about the alpha behind his back. Or he was trying to keep something a secret.

It didn’t matter anyways, the conversation long forgotten as Toga burst into the room with Twice in tow, an excited look on her face. Her usually soft beta scent sharper and bubbling out around her.

“Twice had the best idea!”

“I really didn’t. I always have good ideas.” The two of them came to a stop in the middle of the room, Spinner looking up from his game that he was playing on the couch in the corner seeming almost interested in what the two had to say. Toga was practically bouncing in place as she looked from Twice to everyone else and back to Twice.

“Well tell them!”

“Toga it was stupid, I really don’t think they are going to agre-“

She interrupted him immediately her wide smile turning towards you.

“We should have a party!”

Dabi snorted and turned around, ignoring the smaller blonde, Kurogiri resumed cleaning up from cooking and even Spinner turned back to his game, checking out of the world again. Everyone else in the room was completely ignoring the blonde whose eyes were focused on yours so intently you couldn’t help but swallow. Even Twice was looking up at the ceiling like he was wishing he could be raptured into the heavens to escape the room.

“Toga… why would we have a party?” You tried to reason with her, shrinking back as she bounded over to you taking your hands between hers, her smile wide and toothy.

“To celebrate! Duh! We all need to have fun and relax.”

“But what are we celebrating?”

She paused for a second, a pout on her lips like she was suddenly upset about something before the pout disappeared completely and her smile was back.

“You two getting married of course!”

Dabi choked on his drink, and you could feel your cheeks growing redder by the second. Even Twice looked back to the two of you confusion written all over his face before it transformed into what could only be described as the joy of  a puppy.

“You’re getting married? How romantic! You should marry me instead.”  He slid up to Dabi wrapping an arm around his shoulder and waggling his eyebrows only for Dabi to push him off a frown on his face as he whirled to face Toga.

“What the hell are you talking about?” You couldn’t help but bristle at the annoyance that was in his tone. Sure Toga was being…. Toga, but he didn’t have to act like getting married was the worst thing he ever heard.

“You’re already bonded, now it’s time to make it official.”

“Bonding makes it official. No one gets married anymore other than rich assholes who want to show off and throw a big party.”

“My parents did..”

“Oh my bad, and dick heads who sell their kids to those rich assholes.”

An awkward silence filled the room as you closed your eyes pretending for a brief moment that he did not just say that. Maybe you imagined it.

“… Y/n?” Toga’s worried voice was soft, and you could smell it as the excitement in her scent was fading quickly, being replaced with a calming beta scent.

Nope, he definitely said that. Taking a deep breath as you steadied yourself before glaring over at Dabi who looked like he was beyond pissed at himself for even opening his mouth.

“Exactly how long have you two known each other?” Shigaraki’s voice spoke up from the doorway that he was watching from, his fingers dropping from his bond mark, it red and raw from previous scratching.

You couldn’t help but sigh in frustration, looking over to Dabi again to see he had his head against the counter of the bar, blocking the rest of them out as he ran his fingers through his hair. For someone who was supposed to be great at lying, he was messing up a lot lately. It was like he wasn’t even trying to hide things anymore.

“How long have I been here?” You shrugged looking back to your ramen and pulling some into your mouth to occupy it. Everyone knew that was a load of bullshit, but you weren’t about to be the one to spill Dabi’s all important secret.  

Toga was still looking at you with wide eyes. Eyes filled with pity but also with unbridled affection. You knew she didn’t have the greatest parent’s herself, no matter how much she tried to play it off and deny it. You knew everyone here had parental issues. You weren’t special. None of them were crying about it, and why should you?

Still, the look she was giving you made your throat burn and eyes prick. You pushed past it though and kept your face as neutral as you could. You barely even remembered what your parents looked like. What they did shouldn’t matter to you anymore.

“How long Dabi?”

“It doesn’t matter.” He grumbled against the counter, tapping it twice to signal Kurogiri to get him another drink. You agreed with his statement, it really shouldn’t matter to the rest of the league when the two of you met, or how long you had known each other, but you knew that Shigaraki would take it personally.

“I said how long!” Shigaraki was fuming now, angry that secrets were being kept from him from those who he was supposed to trust. His alpha ruffling up and itching to come out. How could he trust them if they wouldn’t even answer that simple question?

“How long have you known your omega? Huh? How long have you been sneaking out to see them risking us all getting caught?” Dabi whirled on him, getting up so fast that the bar stool tipped over making a loud crash that had you Toga and Twice all wincing, Kurogiri freezing completely. Even Spinner looked up from his game, slowly putting it down like he was ready to separate the two.

Shigaraki’s eyes immediately turned to you, but before he could even take a step towards you Dabi’s voice continued as he pushed himself between you and the angry alpha.

“She didn’t tell me. We all knew, we’ve all known since the first time you disappeared and came back smelling like fucking lilies.”

Shigaraki stopped, looking wildly around the room, his anger still apparent, his fingers itching for something to decay as he looked at all of the league’s members for confirmation.

Toga frowned at him before nodding, keeping her distance and letting out her best calming scent that she could, only for Shigaraki to snarl at her in annoyance, taking a step towards her.

“Stop with that fucking smell. It stinks. You think I need to be comforted like a fucking pup?”

“When you’re fucking acting like one, yea.” Twice stepped between Shigaraki and Toga and even Shigaraki looked genuinely surprised by the Beta’s act of defiance. Twice was never known to go against the alpha’s in the group, especially toe to toe with the dangerous leader himself.

“Tomura…” The smaller beta peeked her head out from behind Twice who was currently puffing his chest trying to look half as intimidating as the alpha in front of him. “None of us care if you have an omega, or if you want to keep them away from us. We know you just want to keep them safe.”

Shigaraki looked around again, noting the similar looks of slight annoyance and understanding before his eyes landed back onto Spinner, probably his closest friend in the league minus Kurogiri. Spinner only shrugged before speaking softly. “I just assumed you would tell us when you were ready. You know we wouldn’t hurt them.”

Tomura paused, his body relaxing slightly as he looked at the ground, almost like he was ashamed of something, his reaction maybe. It was silent for a moment or two before he finally glanced up at you and Dabi a grumble leaving his lips shoving his hands into his hoodie pocket with a shrug, the topic effectively dropped.

“So are we having a wedding or not?”

The groan that left Dabi’s lips had you pouting until he caught sight of the look on your face and caved, pulling you into him looking down at you, his face neurtral and lazy to everyone else but you knew better, you could see the adoration hiding in his cerulean eyes.

“Fine. If you want to throw a dumb party, we will throw a party. But I am absolutely not wearing a tux.”

You couldn’t lie… the thought of him in a tux had you absolutely giddy.

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

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[foolforshera]

OK, so I didn't update Illusions but I did figure I could start a new story, A Camp Christmas. This one is in the Camp Bright Moon series and will be updating on no set schedule. It could be summed up as, "Adora has managed to finish her first semester at college and now she's going home with Glimmer for Christmas. Glimmer has already told her that her family does Christmas a bit differently but Adora is also having issues with this being the first Christmas being estranged from her mother. How will things play out for her?"

*****

“Are you sure your parents are alright with Catra and I staying over Christmas break at your place?” Adora said as she packed the last of her stuff into a box, sealed it with tape, and carefully labeled the box with what was inside.

“Adora, really, I get it, you’re anxious but you gotta stop asking me that,” Glimmer said as she crammed another load of clothes into a garbage bag before tying it off and tossing it on top of another set of bags. She stood up and walked around the small dorm room to make sure nothing had been left behind, grabbing a pair of sandals out from under the bed and throwing them on top of the garbage bags as she went. “It’s not like Catra doesn’t stay there when she’s in the area.”

Adora involuntarily smiled at the mention of her girlfriend. It’d been several weeks since she’d seen her as Catra had been traveling around with a farrier, learning the trade, and they didn’t get to talk nearly enough, never mind seeing each other in person.

“I know,” Adora said, “but Christmas is a family thing and I don’t want us to be in the way.”

Glimmer went over and put a hand on Adora’s shoulder as she said, “Adora, you have been specifically invited to our celebration. Bow is going to be there, you’re going to be there, and Catra is going to be there. It’s going to be fun and if it isn’t, well, you’re wrong, yes, it is.”

Adora sighed as she sat down on the bare mattress of her dorm bed. She looked around the room that she’d spent the last few months in since she’d left Camp Bright Moon as she thought about her life. In just six months, she’d walked away from a guaranteed college education, her work at the Christian summer camp she’d attended for years, her worldview of herself as a good Christian, and her mother. Against that she had made new friends, finally admitted her love for Catra, and was able to openly be herself but even then she often found herself questioning her decision. When Catra was around, it was easy to forget or at least deal with but Catra had dropped out of school entirely to work for a traveling farrier and so it wasn’t often that she was able to forget it.

[angelbytz]

Dream SMP AU pt.2

Dream SMP Miraculous crossover pt.2. Read pt.1 for Tommy, Wilbur, Tubbo, Ranboo, Techno and Philza.

Fundy: He is really tired of getting made fun of. Everyday he gets bullied - in a loving way - and called a furry. And then he, of course, gets the fox miraculous. How ironic. Fundy decides he is not gonna be made fun of as a hero. Fennec Fox with the power of illusion is a sly, devious and mysterious character. He quickly and easily tricks most villains and does so with an air of smugness around him. If it goes the other way around and Fennec gets trapped he usually pouts until saved and gets salty after being rescued. Unfortunately, Fundy is cursed to be seen as a furry - even though every single other hero is also animal themed, there is even a cat, wolf and rabbit hero - and he gets mocked by the heroes - affectionately. He usually gets them back and plays a load of harmless pranks for fun and no other hero has successfully pranked him back. But no matter what he can’t escape his title unlike...

Niki: Everyone loves Niki. Who doesn’t? She is just too sweet and kind to not love. But sometimes people get sick of being nice and want to go apeshit, right? Don’t get me wrong, it’s not that she hates being kind, she just wants to let loose and be a bit wild. So when given the axolotl miraculous (mouse) Niki saw this as an opportunity to be a little crazy. Chimera is the cutest hero with adorable feathery gills, pretty pigtails and cool costume but she doesn’t really act typically cutesy. Ba Xuyen may be the most chaotic but Chimera is the most feral. Chimera is an unhinged, demented force of nature who would not hesitate to bust through a wall, a window or a ceiling to stop Hawkmoth. She is pretty destructive but Pipistrelles power fixes everything so why not break shit? And that is Chimera’s motto. She is an unstoppable force that destroys anything in her path. Her personality is quirky, brash and energetic. She’s like a caffeinated axolotl on a sugar rush with a completely empty head and no thoughts. The other heroes know not to get in her way or question her methods with the exception of Jack’s persona (more on him in pt.4). They aren’t scared of her (aside from Maine Coon at times) because she is too bright and cheerful to be scared of, unlike...

Quackity: Lets face it, he knew he could never be a superhero. Quackity is way to recognisible because of his mysterious hair, scar and demeanor. Thankfully, in costume still hides his hair with a beanie but his eye scar and demeanor are still too noticeable. So what did Quackity do? He decided that he cannot act like himself whatsoever. He has to talk like someone else. He has to act like someone else. He has to fight like someone else. He has to be the opposite of himself. And who is the opposite of Quackity? Techno. Yep. These two idiots, completely independent of each other, pretend to be their best friend as their alter ego. Quackity gets the duck miraculous (the horse in canon) and the power to create portals. The hero known as Cayuga (have you figured out I suck at names yet?) is deadpan and threatening but at times messes up and says something only Quackity would say. Cayuga and Ba Xuyen have their own duo and become good friends. When it’s only the two of them they drop the personas and act more like themselves. They might know each others identities and they might not. The two are best friends anyways. Cayuga also has a good relationship with...

Karl: Surprise surprise, he gets the bunny miraculous that allows him to time travel. Not much is known about the hero as he is a lone wolf when it comes to his job and only drags one hero along with him at a time. When with another hero he is fast-talking, impatient and twitchy. He seems like he doesn’t have time for games and goes on many paranoid and anxious rambles. Despite all this, he is very open with the other heroes and encourages them to do the same. He has an air of experience around him and tells stories of his time traveling adventures when not fighting. Even though he loves telling stories, barely anything is known about him. The public aren’t even aware of his existence. The heroes theorised that he might know their identities. All they know is that his name is Harlequin and they mostly go on missions with Cayuga and...

Sapnap: The holder of the panda miraculous (dragon is cool but panda is cute) and the power to transform into water, air or lightning - Its probably a good thing he can’t turn into fire after ‘the incident’. In this AU, Sapnap took martial arts classes to learn self-control after ‘the incident’ and also for self-defense. (The idea for Sapnap knowing martial arts popped into my head and I ran with it.) When given the chance to be a hero Sapnap embraces the composed and temperate part of himself all while showing of his hidden combat skills. So, the hero Qinling a martial arts expert, a calm, disciplined and determined warrior but at times is pretentious and egotistical. He’d probably have a rivalry with one of the other heroes. As a civilian, good friends with...

Badboyhalo and Skeppy: The two keepers of the miraculous box. These two are the ones handing out miraculous’ like candy on Halloween and not always for great reason. Skeppy initially suggested giving the bat and cat miraculous to Wilbur and Tommy because he wanted to see how long they could go without figuring out each other identity and who would find out first. Badboyhalo on the other hand believed that their chemistry would create an unstoppable team. Every hero after that was chosen because Bad believed in them and Skeppy wanted to see them as heroes. They know all their friends’ secret identities and never reveal themselves unless the plot demands it.

Next post will feature:

Dream

George

Schlatt

Jack

Sam

Ponk

[levihantrash]

new chapter update!

Summary:

Levi’s pragmatism pulled the brakes. “I’m not about to dedicate my life to become a broke comic artist.”

Levi Ackerman, a gruff cleaner with an appetite for toilet humour meets the unabashedly friendly creative writing professor, Hange Zoë, who somehow ropes Levi into working on a comic with them. While the comic’s title remains undecided, Hange knows that it’s going to be set in a world where giant, human-like creatures devour other humans. Erwin Smith, the comic’s self-appointed editor, unironically thinks it’s going to be a hit. All Levi knows is that he wants to indulge in drawing this comic while hanging out with a certain writer who just won’t stop talking to him.

Where Hange, Levi, and Erwin are the creators of Attack on Titan.

Chapter 1: Free Bread

Chapter 2: New Friends

Like routine, Levi found himself waiting for a certain professor to show up. When Erwin called out to him, he couldn’t help but search behind the tall, imposing figure.

“I haven’t seen Hange this morning either,” Erwin said. Levi found himself irritated by Erwin’s discernment and by his own discrete uneasiness.

“Good morning, Erwin,” Levi greeted, nonetheless.

Hange was late, which Levi figured wouldn’t be out of the ordinary.

The morning passed without a single sign of Hange.

“Sorry, are you Mr. Levi?” A nervous-looking person approached him, holding on to a well-wrapped steamed bun. A twinge of hope stirred in Levi.

“Levi will do,” he said.

“Dr. Hange said I should pass you this,” the bread-holder blurted out.

Levi’s gaze softened. “Where’s Hange?”

“Oh! She’s rushing a deadline and insisted that I pass you this bread.”

The inexplicable rush of relief made Levi dizzy as he grasped the bread limply. “Huh. Sorry that you have to be an errand boy today.”

“It’s no trouble!”

“Who are you?”

“Sorry! I didn’t introduce myself! I’m Moblit, their teaching assistant! Dr. Hange helps me out with my master’s thesis because they’re my advisor. This is just my way of saying thanks. Dr. Hange also treats me to meals, gives me detailed comments for my work… though they might go overboard when it comes to giving speeches about the importance of world-building and honing your craft, it’s inspiring how dedicated they are in what they do.”

Moblit took a deep breath, making up for lost air in between the lengthy, whole-hearted sentences.

“Is that so…” Levi said, suddenly contemplative. “Do you want some tea?”

“Are you getting it from the staff pantry?”

“No, that stuff’s stale as shit. I have better tea, wait here.”

Levi recalled Erwin asking him in front of everyone in the staffroom if he wanted the staffroom snacks. Hange followed up, speaking at a volume that was clear enough for most of the staff to overhear, orchestrating a deliberate conversation with Erwin.

“Since there are no hard rules as to who the snacks and drinks are catered for, and technically, Levi is a staff member, he should have access to the snacks!”

None of the professors objected. It was probably because open prejudice would be socially unacceptable, Levi thought.

Begrudgingly, he accepted Erwin’s offer, and in full view of everyone, took a candy bar.

Hange gasped. “Just one?” Levi glared at them.

“Aren’t the snacks for your little sister?” Hange asked. He nodded, sensing the collective spike in sympathy for him in the staffroom.

After the whole stage, the trio huddled conspicuously in a corner outside the staffroom.

Hange whispered to Levi, “You could have played along better!”

“Erwin’s tired of your skit,” Levi said, overwhelmed and annoyed at the turn of events.

“No he’s not!” Hange said sternly, before gulping down half a bottle of water.

Erwin, standing in between them, told Hange to keep it down.

“Thanks, you two.” Levi found himself staring at the floor, embarrassed that his two friends had to construe him as a pitiful character for him to get a few snacks, even though he had been informed of the plan prior.

“I’m sorry, Levi,” Hange said, their lips compressed into a hard, grim line. “It’s ridiculous that you can’t even get snacks and refreshments as part of the staff.”

“I’m used to it.”

“If anyone’s giving you a hard time, you have us,” Hange said, still put off.

They squared their shoulders impressively. “Right Erwin?”

“You can rely on us, Levi,” Erwin surmised, equally sombre.

Growing more ruffled by their declarations, Levi hissed, “I don’t need two bodyguards.”

“No, you definitely don’t,” Hange joked. “Some people have told me about the deathly aura you emit that I must have missed…”

Fixing their attention at a vague distance, Hange’s playful jibes dwindled into an idle pondering, “I wonder if you found some joy in our companionship at least.”

They’re talking about joy and friendship again… Levi thought.

He found himself back in the present, handing a cup of black tea to Moblit, guiding him towards a bench.

Moblit squeaked out, “Thank you!”

“How did you find me?” Levi asked, betraying none of his real curiosity.

“Hange gave me a description…” Moblit began, not making eye contact with Levi.

“Did they? What’s the description?” Knowing Hange’s brand of humour, Levi braced himself.

Moblit shuffled in his seat, terribly reluctant. “They said to look out for a cold, black-haired man with an undercut, wearing an apron, gloves and brandishing a mop while scolding people to not step on wet floors.” Levi made a mental note to strangle Hange.

Moblit quickly supplemented, “You’re not actually cold though!”

“How would you know that?”

“Um… you’re offering me tea?”

Levi clicked his tongue. “That’s a low bar for human decency. You should have higher standards.”

“You’re right, Mr. Levi… I mean Levi.”

Levi noted Moblit’s jittery manner when he briefly checked his phone for a message and let out a small groan.

“Hey, you look worried sick. You didn’t receive a death threat, did you?”

Moblit laughed weakly, running his hand through his hair. “Uh, you see, I’m one of the editors for the bi-annual literary magazine and we’ve been looking for illustrators…”

“I take it that you haven’t been successful?”

“Yes… I just received someone’s rejection. It’s okay, we’ll find one,” Moblit said, although his panicked lip-biting ran contradictory to his optimistic statement. Levi’s hands twitched again. He folded them promptly into his apron pockets.

Upon finishing the tea, Moblit stood up and gave a tiny, polite bow. “It was nice meeting you Levi. Thanks for listening and for the tea!”

“Good luck,” Levi said, in time before Moblit rushed off.

Bagging up the rubbish, Levi heaved the load on his shoulder easily, only to be startled by the appearance of Hange.

“Fuck! Can you stop jumping out of nowhere?” Though momentarily disconcerted, the tension built up from the day unwound instantaneously, leaving his body loose and feeble.

“Levi! Did you shit yourself?” Hange sang. They accidentally bumped into the gigantic rubbish bag, falling butt-first onto the ground, phone in hand.

“Be careful,” Levi said, in the same monotonous voice he used regardless of the situation. Unless the situation involved Hange leaping out of nowhere. He looped his free arm under their armpit to pull them back up. Hange, flushed from running, placed their phone in his hands with ill-contained excitement.

“Look at what I found!”

“Oi, what’s this—” Levi scanned the phone, his mouth running dry.

“I’m going to recruit this artist. For my comic.”

It was a sketch of a cat being patted by a person with messy, tied-up hair, their hands stroking its head.

“Don’t you think the person looks familiar? Isn’t the cat cute… remember how I told you I have one at home?” Hange released their brown hair from a voluminous ponytail, biting the rubber band in their mouth.

He swallowed. “I drew that.”

Hange’s mouth hung open. “You’re kidding!”

“Do I look like I make such shit jokes?”

“Personally, I find your shitty jokes very funny. This is exciting news! Why didn’t you tell me you’re an artist when I was trying to find one for my comic?”

Levi found her question preposterous. “You could easily find a better one. I’m inexperienced.”

“I’m also an inexperienced writer. I barely wrote one book and a few articles!”

“You’re a professor. You have the title for a reason. I just draw for fun.”

Hange spared him a baffled look. “Please. You have no idea how many great writers never become professors. And how some professors never write great books. I thought you of all people would know that a title doesn’t mean anything.”

“I thought you of all people would know that titles hold their value here, even if we think they’re stupid and don’t mean shit.”

“I know that, Levi. I’m saying, drawing for fun doesn’t make you inexperienced or unworthy of being the artist for my comic. Besides, I chose you before I even knew it was you!” Hange said triumphantly.

Locking the phone screen, Levi reiterated, “I draw for fun.”

“Then this will be our fun project!”

Levi’s pragmatism pulled the brakes. “I’m not about to dedicate my life to become a broke comic artist.”

“You won’t be broke.” Erwin slipped into their conversation as though he had always been there. It was uncanny.

“What do you mean?” Levi stared questioningly at Erwin.

“You’ll be paid for your work, Levi. Hange as well,” Erwin said simply.

“You’re paying us?” Hange and Levi asked, in unison. One, in disbelief, and the other, in delight.

“A publisher will be paying you. I’ve secured funding.”

Levi gritted his teeth. “A publisher wants to sponsor a comic that hasn’t even been written?”

“I told you, Levi,” Hange interrupted. “I’ve already submitted a draft!”

“Yes,” Erwin said.

Levi had so many questions. “How?”

“Because it’s a good story.”

“Did you bribe them? Threaten them?”

“It is a risk,” Erwin admitted.

“It’s a fucking gamble,” Levi emphasised. “Don’t know why you’re so invested in this comic.”

Hange had other worries. “Levi, did you think I wasn’t going to pay you?”

Levi hesitated. “I don’t know. Isn’t this just a fun side-project?”

Hange’s face came closer to his. With the enhanced proximity, Levi stopped breathing altogether. Their face was deadly solemn.

“Listen, Levi, creating art is hard work. Your hard work. Any artist deserves to be paid. It’s not because our relationship is transactional. It’s because it’s only right.”

Erwin added, “We’re not going to accept your art for free.”

Pushing Hange back firmly with his hands on their shoulders, Levi argued, “Plenty of people have access to my art online for free.”

“That’s your choice. We insist.” Hange grinned. “And we think we deserve to be paid too. Even I’m surprised that my project has early compensation.”

Part of Levi’s resolve ebbed away. “I’ll think about it.”

“Good enough for me!”

“First, you have to tell me what your story is.” Levi gathered up the last of his self-respect. “And if we’re going to be working together, I’ll need your number.”

Erwin raised an innocent eyebrow. “Wouldn’t you need mine too?”

“Stop teasing him, Erwin,” Hange said, grabbing the rubbish bag from Levi, struggling to balance its weight over their shoulders.

Just as Levi felt a shred of gratitude, Hange remarked, “What if he doesn’t agree to do the comic together?”

Patience running thin, Levi stomped on both their feet in a fit of unrestraint that diverged from his unaffected demeanour.

Eyes twinkling, Hange couldn’t help but feel immense glee at the prospect of working with Levi. What was probably Levi’s withheld strength made them certain that he only wanted to dirty their shoes, not bruise their toes. Like Hange would care about the cleanliness of their battered sneakers.

In front of an ordinary apartment door, Hange dug into the depths of their bag to fish out a ring of keys. The size of the ring was unprecedentedly big; the choice of keychain most definitely random, a freebie handed out to new staff that blatantly displayed the university’s name.

Without that much bribery of tea, bread, and friendship, Levi found himself standing beside Hange as they busied themselves in finding the key to their apartment. Erwin had bailed due to having another Important Meeting with Important People, even during a weekend, but encouraged Hange and Levi to take time to discuss the comic.

Hange hadn’t expected Levi to agree so readily to kickstarting the project, and with the generous reception Levi gave (a curt nod and a follow-up question), they thought it’d be best if they invited him over to their apartment. Just so he wouldn’t mistake Hange as a mere business partner. Now that would be upsetting.

Hange pushed the ludicrous speculation out of their head. Levi was first and foremost, a good friend. His bored appearance revealed glimpses of surprise, satisfaction, moodiness, and suspicion. Hange held on to these pieces with the determination to collect them all. Surely, Levi must have figured them out by now. This endless, unabashed interest Hange had taken in him.

“Why are we meeting at your place? Do you need to take a huge shit? Does the toilet at home have a better flush?”

Although Levi had no qualms about visiting Hange’s apartment, he found it unnerving to have a work discussion in someone’s living quarters. It felt too intimate, too casual. He wasn’t sure if he could handle being sucked in further into Hange’s life. They asked so many questions, yet barely answered any about themselves.

Whether intentionally or not, Hange was someone shrouded in mystery to Levi. He couldn’t ask questions either—he wouldn’t—because he was unaccustomed to expressing himself in front of people. More than that, he could envision Hange’s sharp wit poking a clean hole through his muted facade. “You’re interested in my life, Levi?” Damn that four-eyes for being so perceptive. Or was he so easy to read?

“It’s more fun,” Hange said, eventually stuffing the correct key into the keyhole, a smooth click welcoming them. “Plus, I want to introduce you to my friends! Part of the reason why I took up the position at this university.”

“Friends?” Levi asked, slipping out of his shoes to step into the apartment.

“Hange!” A voice rang, and Hange was wrapped in a hug.

“Onyankopon! I saw you yesterday—”

“Three days ago, to be exact, since you always sleep over on the lovely desk at the university.” A smooth voice entered, coming from a woman standing comfortably against the wall.

As the tallest body let go of Hange, it allowed Levi to take in the congenial features of a man whose shoulders rivalled Erwin’s towering, well-built stature. While Erwin’s smile was measuredly cordial, Onyankopon’s was candidly sincere. Watching Hange and Onyankopon, Levi felt as though he were intruding into a family reunion that had invited the entire neighbourhood. Here, he was the guest who came for the free flow of food and drinks.

“I’ve missed you too Pieck!” The woman named Pieck ruffled Hange’s hair, offering them an embrace.

Hange pulled Levi by the elbow, pointing to the new people. “Meet my roommates and college friends, Onyankopon and Pieck!”

“Hi,” Levi said, uncertain as to what else he could affix his terse greeting with. Hange resolved that predicament for him, going into further details about their friends.

“Onyankopon is a researcher and engineer! I can’t tell you the technical specifics of what he does, though, I always get them wrong. Oh, and he’s religious, but he won’t try to convert you.” Onyankopon nodded, affirming Hange’s unflattering introduction.

“Pieck… Pieck is a gardener, florist, and avid gamer! That’s why she’s always bent over, whether it’s tending to her plants or her high score in front of the monitor.”

“It’s not why I need the crutches though,” Pieck said. Hange squeezed her shoulders in response.

“Seems like my friends are all nerdy. Maybe that’s why I like them?” A sheepish smile graced Hange’s lips.

Onyankopon gestured towards Hange, imitating their dramatic flourish. “And this is Hange Zoe, the nerdiest of them all. Obsessed with words. Recently obsessed with science fiction. They’re always reading or writing, and once they start on something, their butt doesn’t leave the chair.”

Levi’s eyes flitted around the apartment—it was relatively tidy, with a couple of framed photos and artworks. A blanket on the couch made it homely enough. His inspection didn’t miss Hange’s notice.

“Like what you see?”

“It’s neat,” he replied.

“That’s a compliment!” Hange took care to disclose this to their two friends.

“All your previous partners don’t take off their shoes, Hange. I hope he isn’t one of those.” Pieck said, using their crutch to relocate Hange’s haphazard shoes to a corner, flipping them the right side up. Levi liked her already.

“That’s gross,” Levi said apathetically, wiping away the horrifying image of dirt-smeared carpets and tiles creeping into his consciousness.

“He’s very clean, don’t worry,” Hange said easily. “Some might even say it’s his obsession.”

“I’m the cleaner at the university.” Onyankopon and Pieck turned towards Hange with patented disapproval.

“Levi, you know that’s not what I meant.”

“I think we’ll make good friends,” Pieck said, bemused.

Hange beamed at Levi. “You’ll love Pieck! She’s really quiet most of the time, just like you. Not to mention she pretends that she hates me. Just like you.”

“Good to know,” Levi said, enjoying the banter a bit too much.

“Hange says she’s going to get you to draw me, as a titan,” Pieck said, evidently sceptical.

“What’s a titan?”

“The giant, naked people I told you about, Levi! They’re called titans!”

“Why are they called titans?”

Hange landed on the sofa with a plop, patting the seat beside them for Levi to sit. “In Greek mythology, titans are immortal giant gods who were banished to the underground.”

Levi, who had little knowledge of Greek mythology, made a mental note to search for references online.

“Therefore, the titans are kind of like vengeful giant gods from the underground who have come to earth to wreak havoc on what the gods have built, which is human civilisation, basically.”

“Basically, I am wonderful enough to be titan-material,” Pieck drawled, propping their crutch at the side of the couch, sliding onto the cushions.

“A special titan that walks on all fours! Um, that’s the plan for now,” Hange said brightly.

Onyankopon, who had been content with listening, clapped his hands together in sudden realisation. “Hange, now that you’re finally home, you can take a shower.”

“I should, right?” Hange scratched their head, feeling the slickness of unwashed neglect.

Levi crinkled his nose as Hange reluctantly made their way to the bathroom. “That’s disgusting.”

“And here you are, still.” Pieck’s amiable statement prickled at his skin like a light warning before impending exposure.

“Hange must really want to make a good impression if they’re showering now,” Onyankopon said, chuckling to himself.

“It’s good to finally meet you.” Onyankopon pushed a newly made cup of tea towards Levi, with the steady confidence that could only come from having known prior that it was the beverage that Levi would desire. “Make yourself at home.”

Levi said his thanks, to the hospitality of two people he scarcely knew, and to Hange, who likely told them about the tea.

Cold water blasted them in the face, as Hange became cognizant of the necessity of showering more regularly. It wasn’t like they thrived in the dirt. Hypothetically, showering wasn’t that troublesome. The shower kept forgetting itself until it was three days later and Hange stank with regret and mild self-loathing. Still, the shower felt good, giving them new clarity about the fact that they had invited Levi into their inner social circle. How would he fare? Would he be uncomfortable? Hange massaged shampoo into their hair, recalling their conversation with Pieck and Onyankopon.

After much elaboration on adapting to a new university, their visits to an amazing bakery, and the fostering of daily encounters with new friends, Pieck had caught on that every other sentence from Hange contained a sliver of Levi-sized anecdotes. The new university was so much bigger than the one Pieck, Onyankopon, and Hange had attended together; it stretched endlessly, and Hange estimated that Levi would have walked 393700.7874 steps to clean just the faculty building. The bakery near the university was fragrant, its selection marvellous, and choosing a new bread for Levi every day was a tremendously delightful task. Moreover, Hange had met so many unique characters since getting to know the people in their faculty, people like Levi whose abhorrence for social etiquette was admirable, and with whom she was eager to share their mornings and lunches. Together with Erwin, of course.

Pieck let out a tinkle of a laugh at Hange’s obliviousness. “Why are you friends with Levi?”

Thinking hard, Hange answered, “I don’t know if he thinks of us as friends.”

“Well, friendship status aside, how’s he like?”

“He’s kind. He doesn’t sound like it, but he’s kind.”

“That’s nice. How’s he kind?”

Confusion coloured Hange’s usual confidence. “Hmm. It’s gut-feeling, I guess.”

“That’s unlike you, to rely solely on instincts,” Onyankopon said, stroking his chin. Hange was a person with an abundance of rationale, a reason for everything, with justification for any ideas. Their reasoning this time fell flat.

Pieck prodded on. “You said that he doesn’t sound kind. Then what does he sound like?”

“Grumpy, sarcastic, serious. He looks like he’s annoyed with everyone. Most people find him scary, I suppose? It’s like he wants people to think he’s an asshole.”

Pieck perked up. “Oh, so you’ve become enamoured with broody, misunderstood people who’re rough around the edges?”

“Pieck, come on, I’m not writing my own romantic trope! I don’t know… he’s a good person. I can tell. He doesn’t say much though.”

“You’re a mind-reader now?”

Hange ignored her. “His art… it’s so evocative. Melancholic. Hopeful. Angry.”

“What was the artwork you last saw of his?”

“A cat,” Hange said immediately.

Onyankopon brought Hange back to reality. “What about him? What do you like about him? Not his art.”

Hange pursed their lips. “Do good people need to prove themselves to show that they’re good?”

“There could be reasons as to why you’re so adamant about his golden character,” Onyankopon said.

“He’s reliable. And his shit jokes aren’t so bad once you get used to it.” Hange surprised themselves with that comment—Levi’s relentless toilet humour was infecting their brain. The corrosive force of the word “shitty” had already moulded itself permanently into their vocabulary.

Gazing up at the ceiling, Hange bent their arms behind their head. “It’s hard to find people to truly get along with.”

Onyankopon and Pieck shared a knowing look.

With their eyes trained to the white ceiling plaster, Hange mumbled on, “it would be nice if he’d talk more openly about what he’s feeling. It’s all guesswork and I’m afraid I’m constantly reading him wrong.”

“Maybe you should take your own advice…” Onyankopon said gently.

“But I do talk about my feelings!”

“Monologuing in your room and reposting vague lines of poetry and sending us memes to cope with your avoidance is not the same as talking about your feelings,” Pieck said, spending the subsequently long moment of silence to snip off a yellowed leaf from the potted Monstera deliciosa next to the kitchen counter.

“Wow.” Hange, for once, had nothing to muster.

Onyankopon’s approach was less incisive than Pieck’s. “You know, I don’t think you need a reason to be friends with someone. If he’s making you happy, I think it’s a good sign.”

“Thanks, Onyankopon,” Hange said gratefully.

“But Pieck’s right about you being deliberately evasive with your own emotions. Introspection shouldn’t be so strenuous, right? Don’t you write about your characters’ internal turmoil often?”

“It’s different when you’re reflecting for yourself,” Hange contended.

“We’ll see how Levi’s like anyway, when we meet him,” Pieck said, grabbing the scissors, going towards another deadened leaf.

“Don’t bully him!”

Another snip. Another leaf fell. “Isn’t he supposed to be scary?”

Hange smiled wryly. “But you two are scarier.”

[the-sound-of-her-wings]

I Don't Know How to Love Him, Pt. 2

Bruce Banner x GenderNeutral!Reader, Set during the entirety of The Avengers. Part I of Unknown- will likely span all of Avengers, Age of Ultron, and Infinity War.

You are a former shield agent who gets dragged back into the business after Loki steals the tesseract. You meet a cast of fun characters along the way, and maybe even fall in love.

Part 1

Word Count: 2,050

Contains: Mistrust/Angst?, Research, Discussions of Norse Mythology, Sleipnir

Inspiration: I Don't Know How to Love Him

Facial recognition technology detects Loki in Stuttgart, Germany. Instead of flying down to confront Loki in the quinjet, you are held back as a last resort in case something goes terribly wrong with the mission. Fury doesn’t want to blow his best assets on a capture mission.

After taking a shower and checking out your new, temporary bedroom, you head back to the lab to check in on what Bruce is up to. Turns out, nothing that interesting.

“Hey Bruce”

“y/n? I thought they’d send you out with the others.” He is startled by your entrance.

“I’m just the backup, Bruce. Only needed if things go south out there. Which, hopefully, they won’t” You respond.

“Or you're here to babysit me” He retorts, still not trusting you.

You roll your eyes. “Bruce. Do you really think I would have left you alone for almost 5 hours if I was really just here to make sure you didn’t turn into the Hulk?”

“Maybe that was just to make me feel comfortable. There are at least 5 surveillance cameras in this lab alone. I counted 10 in my room.”

“If it makes you any better, I have 20 in my room.”

His facial expression tells you that he doesn’t believe you. Still, his blood pressure is remaining even, a significant improvement from a few hours earlier. Not really concerned for any of Shield’s property and wanting to gain his trust, you systematically destroy every camera in the room by flinging an ice spike through them one by one.

“Better?”

“Why are you so desperate for me to trust you?”

Ouch. “I didn’t realize one of your several doctorate degrees was in psychology”

“It’s not. I’m sorry, that was rude.” He nervously fidgets with his hands.

“It’s fine. And you're right- I want you to trust me because I want to help you gain control over the Hulk.”

“Why?” He’s still searching for reasons not to trust you. You won’t give him any.

“I would’ve wanted someone to help me.”

“Your powers seem a little easier to control”

You scoff. “Yeah, now. Not when I first got them. Do you know how many people I almost boiled alive back then?”

“A non-zero number.”

“I once was so angry that I accidentally evaporated my high school’s swimming pool. Thankfully, no one was in it- but if they had been- I would’ve made people soup.”

“That’s not a pleasant thought.” He shakes his head, having unfortunately imagined the worst outcome.

“Exactly. Look, even if you don’t trust me, I think I can still help you get things under control with the Hulk. And in return, you can try to figure out my powers.”

“What makes you think I’m interested?” At least he’s stopped doubting that you are there out of genuine interest in helping him, and not for some nefarious reason.

“I have yet to meet a scientist who hasn’t been.”

“Okay. Deal.” He holds out his hand, and you shake on it.

“Deal. Now. Where would you like to start?” You say, having a ball of water in your right hand and ice in the other.

“Farther back than that. Are you spontaneously creating water or are you using the water in the air around you?”

“The latter. I’ve been in zero humidity climates before and the only water I was able to control was my own bodily fluids and those of the people around me.” You respond, evaporating the balls.

“And as far as you're aware, your ability to change the state of water is unlimited?” He has brought up a notepad on one of the computers and is typing away.

“As far as I know. I’ve never tried anything extreme, like evaporating the ocean or pulling all of the water out of the atmosphere. So there might be a limit- but I’ll probably never have to discover it.”

“You mentioned the ocean. Did you ever try controlling it or pushing part of it aside while in the Coast Guard?”

“Oh, all the time,” You begin to explain, “I couldn’t be too obvious about it or the other members of my team would’ve found out about my powers- but I would hold back a few waves to make rescue operations go smoother, or make the area around the person who needed to be rescued oddly calm. Those sorts of things. I think I probably could have created a dry spot in the center of the ocean if I wanted to, but that was never necessary, and probably would’ve led to a couple broken bones”

You can see him thinking of various possibilities as he continues jotting down notes.

“So, it sounds like you change the states of water in your immediate surroundings, and are then able to manipulate that water in whichever way you choose.”

“That sounds about right.”

“Can you make an ice ball encircling your hand, please?” He asks you, looking up from his notes.

You comply, and he begins to make his way closer to you. “Do you mind?” He asks.

“Go for it” You respond, having been poked and prodded by scientists before. He gives you a slight smile before gently touching the iceball currently encircling your fist.

“And you're not feeling that, are you?”

“What do you mean?”

“Either my touch or the iceball surrounding your fist” He responds, still running his fingers across the top of it.

“Nope, It’s not even cold.” You respond.

This seems to set off a lightbulb, as he walks over to another part of the lab, grabbing a portable microscope. He puts it directly on the iceball, even with the top of your hand.

“I’m going to need to hold onto your arm to make sure it doesn’t move. Is that okay?” He asks for consent again, which you appreciate. The Shield scientists took one yes to mean you were okay with everything.

“Absolutely.”

His left arm steadies your right, as he keeps his right arm where it was previously positioned on the iceball, holding the microscope. He peers through it and smiles to himself, letting go of your arm and removing the microscope from the iceball.

“You’ve got a barrier between your skin and the ice.”

“I do?” You ask, melting away the iceball. “I didn’t know that.”

“You’ve tried to manipulate your own internal fluids before, right?” He asks.

You think back to times where you’ve tried to stop yourself from choking on a glass of water with your powers- it’s never worked.

“Unsuccessfully, yes.”

“That’s because of the barrier. It must have been part of the mutation- preventing you from injuring yourself with your powers.” He explains to you, just as Fury walks into the room.

You eye him suspiciously as he announces, “We’ve captured Loki. Dr. Banner, this is for you.” Behind him, a few shield agents roll a cart in holding the scepter, which they’ve placed in some sort of holder. They take it off the cart and place it on the table, closest to the windows facing outside the ship.

“Colonel Y/n, with me.” Fury directs.

“Dr. Banner,” You say, giving him a polite wave goodbye, before following Director Fury out of the room. Bruce watches as you leave until you are no longer in his line of vision.

“So you’ve caught him?”

“With some help.” Fury admits, begrudgingly. He hands you an earpiece, which you promptly put in your ear.

“Let me guess. Stark?” You weren’t sure Fury had ever been directly involved with Stark before this, as news of him being Iron Man made it to you through regular news media. But you were sure he was now, even if he hadn’t been before.

“Yup. Another Asgardian, too.”

You raise your eyebrow, but don’t say anything. You arrive at the empty containment cell, waiting for the Shield escort team to follow behind you. You can feel his eyes on you before you see him- they’re piercing. You look eyes with him as he is shoved into the glass cell, right after a shield agent uncuffs him. He doesn’t seem to react to this treatment- in fact, he seems to be thriving. His blood pressure is also suspiciously even for someone who just got captured.

You stand by as Fury and Loki exchange words, Fury trying to emphasize that he’s lost and Loki hinting at the fact he hasn’t. After insulting Bruce, Loki turns his attention towards you.

“And who’s this supposed to be? Your personal bodyguard?” Loki attempts to insult him.

“This is Colonel y/n. They’re going to keep you company for a little while.” Fury responds, walking away from him.

“You expect this agent of yours to withstand me?” Loki calls after him.

“Yes,” You begin, stepping into Loki’s field of view, “And I have a lot of questions.”

“Do you, now? Tell me, do you expect me to reveal my plan to you?” He asks, pacing around his cell.

You chuckle, “Of course not. My questions have nothing to do with your plans.”

Loki is slightly puzzled, but his facial expression remains even. He gives no hints about what he’s thinking. “Only if I can ask you questions.”

“That sounds like a fair deal. But since I’m the one outside of the cage, I’ll ask my question first. I admit it’s been burning in my mind since I first heard it was you trying to invade the Earth. Did you or did you not give birth to a horse?” You are dead serious when asking this question.

“What?” He is so surprised that his facade has dropped, giving way to genuine confusion.

“You know, Sleipnir. You transformed into a horse to distract a giant’s horse so he wouldn’t complete the fortification of Asgard in time. Your distraction caused you to become pregnant with Sleipnir, which you later gifted to Odin.” You say, pacing in a large circle around his cell.

“I have absolutely no idea what you are talking about. Sleipnir is my father’s horse, yes, but that’s the only part of the story that’s true.” He responds, now intrigued by your odd tale.

“That’s. Admittedly a little disappointing, as I’m not sure how I’m supposed to make fun of you for that now.”

“Why did Fury send you to guard me?” He asks you his first question.

“That’s a loaded question with many different answers. I don’t know exactly, but if I had to guess, it was because of my interest in Norse mythology. Fury probably thought I would be an annoying distraction because of the many questions I want to ask.” You are technically telling the truth, although without your powers, Fury probably would’ve been way more hesitant to put you in this situation.

“I see.”

“Wait. Did you say Odin is your father?” You ask, having just realized the implications of his earlier response.

“Yes. I believe my brother is on this ship as well.”

You turn away from him and ask the name of the other Asgardian over your earpiece. The name that is given back to you is not one that makes sense.

“Hold on. Thor’s your brother? What? That’s not-”

Loki cuts you off, “I believe it’s my turn to ask a question.”

“Yes. Go ahead” You are trying to figure out how the myths could have been so wrong, and are scratching your head about what happened to Helblindi and Býleistr.

“A lot of the other members of the team sent to capture me are enhanced somehow. Do you have powers?”

“Yes.” You do not elaborate before asking your question. “You are still married to Sigyn, though, right?”

“Your mythology says I have a wife?” His entire demeanor changes in a way you find hard to describe.

“Yes. She’s sometimes described as the Goddess of Victory, sometimes the Goddess of Fidelity. Mostly she pictured trying to ease the burden of your various punishments.”

“Wrap it up, Aqua Marine.” You hear in your earpiece. You roll your eyes- Stark.

“While I’d love to stick around and continue asking questions- I’m needed elsewhere. Enjoy contemplating your existence.”

“One last question-”

You cut him off. “It’s not your turn, Loki.” You announce, before walking out of the chamber holding his cell. You begin the trek back towards the lab, to figure out whatever Stark wanted.

[marvel-chubbybucky-hoe]

Ungrateful?

Hey there :) Just randomly found your blog and I would die for some Loki x Reader fluff/angst written for me. Like maybe Loki takes the Human!Reader with him to Asgard to live there. But the longer they live there, the more the Reader misses Midgard. You know, like the Reader tries really hard to feel home in Asgard, but just is quite homesick. So they are in a romantic relationship for a while now and Loki tries to make it better for the Reader. I hope I explained it understandably xD I actually tried writing this today, but kind of failed, maybe I´ll try in a few days again, but I would love to read your version, because I need this scenario! So: It would be so kind if you would write something for me ^^ ~Ash 

Relationship: Loki Laufeyson / Reader

Tags: angst, fluff, angst to fluff, feelings, self doubt, guilt, shapeshifting, Thor and Loki are your typical siblings, reader is harsh on herself, dating Loki, Loki is the sweetest, Loki being cute

Words: 3892

A/n: I honestly don’t know why this took me so long. I was out of wifi for a little and had to take care of my dog (he got vaccinated and felt a little down :( ) But here it is. I hope you like it. Loads of love 

Loki had met you after Thor convinced him that Midgardians were fun to be around when drunk and furthermore Thor was concerned for Loki. The god of mischief has never before been so quiet. Frigga had begged for Odin to release her son from prison, because she was worried for him. The Allfather agreed, although reluctantly, but Loki had kept to himself.

He was scared of returning to Midgard after he attacked the planet while under the influence of the mind stone. Thor comforted him and promised to stay by his side and even though he would never admit this, Loki felt reassured.

While on Midgard, Loki felt people stare at him, heard the whispers and saw the scared looks on people’s faces. He was embarrassed, but Thor’s booming voice distracted him. 

You were on of Jane’s interns and welcomed Loki with open arms, slightly drunk. After Jane slapped him, you stumbled over to him and hugged him “Don’t hit him, he looks so sad”, you yelled and pouted at him.

And ever since that day Loki’s infatuation with you started to grow and developed into love eventually. He became happier and healthier and finally asked you to join him on Asgard. You were ecstatic to join your love on his home planet.

And it was great. The Asgardians treated you kindly and you were in love with the architecture and culture. The best thing of course, was the vast amount of time you could spend with Loki. He let you in on his mind, his fears and his past, which led you to angrily yelling at Odin until Frigga gently pulled you away. You cried into her arms while she guided you back to Loki’s chamber.

Your prince engulfed you and Frigga in a hug and let you let all your emotions out. You looked up at him and put your had on his cheek “I will never let anyone hurt you ever again” Loki looked back down at you and had to hold back tears, putting his hand over yours.

After your outburst, Odin felt an overwhelming sense of guilt. Seeing Loki being fully loved and the positive influence it has on his mental health made him realize his mistakes in raising and parenting his younger son.

Odin has since tried to slowly regain Loki’s trust and rebuild their relationship. Loki didn’t show it openly, but he told you how excited he is over finally making his father proud. 

And everything had been great, really, until you suddenly felt numb. You couldn’t pinpoint what it was, but something was off. It took you a while to figure out, but when you were out with Sif and you swooned about Leonardo DiCaprio in Titanic and were met with a face of confusion, that you realized you were homesick.

It made you feel so guilty. Loki brought you here out of love, he poured out his heart for you and what did you do? You were an ungrateful brat that wanted to return to earth .You felt so horrible that you couldn’t even look into Loki’s eyes.

Instead, you spend most of your time in the palace garden crying your eyes out. You missed your old apartment, and the smell of fresh baked cinnamon rolls from the bakery downstairs. You missed your little uncomfortable bed and your teddy, the view out of your window and your movie collection. 

When you returned to the palace and saw Loki again, you had tears pooling in your eyes again out of guilt. He would come towards you and gently presses his lips to your temple and smile at you “I’m so happy you’re here, my Queen”, he’d whisper like he did every evening. You sat down with him and his hand never left your thigh. 

You managed to stop your tears for eight more days, before you excused yourself from the table to run for your favourite bench to cry. That’s were you find yourself now, sobbing into your hands in your Asgardian robe. You hear footsteps behind you and tense, dreading the conversation that is surely going to ensue. 

“My queen?”, Loki asks, his voice quiet and scared. His tone makes you whimper. All you had been doing lately was making your beautiful boyfriend scared and sad. You are a horrible girlfriend. Instead of supporting him, you are bringing him down out of your own selfishness. 

Loki sits down next to you and gently takes your hands into his. “Please, tell me what has been bothering you? I cannot stand to see you this miserable”, he pleads with you. You take a shuddering breath and look up at him “I’m sorry, my prince, so, so sorry”, you begin to sob again, “I never meant for this to happen! Please forgive my selfishness”

A sigh comes from him and he puts an arm around your shoulders, “My love, you don’t need to apologize for your feelings, however I wish to help you. Please enlighten me what is darkening your beautiful mind?” You continue to cry into your hands “It’s just…”, you look at him, “I miss home and I’m so sorry. You give me everything and I can’t even appreciate you properly!” His embrace usually brings you comfort, but now it only serves to deepen your guilt.

You bury your face in your hands once more “ I’m so horrible, such a bad girlfriend. I’m so sorry!”  Loki is shocked by your words. He knew something was bothering you, he’d be a terrible boyfriend if he didn’t, but that you were feeling so low made his heart ache. 

Loki pulls you closer to him and snakes his arms around your waist “My queen, you should have told me. It was never my intention to make you sad like this. If you desire to return to earth, I will let you go, not that you need my permission” Your head shoots up “No! You’re what makes me happy. I could never be happy without you. This must be some phase, maybe it’s the weather. Yeah, that’s it! This will be over soon, my prince I promise. I should lay down.” You stand up and kiss Loki, before smiling at him, “Don’t worry about me, I’ll be fine”

Loki sits on the bench dumbfounded, watching your retreating figure. He scoffed. After this encounter he will obviously worry about you. And what he is going to do might not be his proudest moment, but he will surely do everything in his power to find out how he can help you. 

That’s how he finds himself transformed as Fandral. You and him had quickly developed a friendship, surprisingly enough. Loki was sure he can get to the root of your problem in this form. He quickly struts towards your shared chamber and knocks politely.

„Lady Y/n? Are you in there?“, he hollers. After a few seconds, you answer „I am, come in Fandral“ Loki enters, sees you sitting on the bed and cocks his head towards the space next to you. “Yes, of course, sit please“, you mumble, a nervous habit of yours. Loki sits next to you and places a hand on your knee. You look at him and see his compassionate eyes and know that you can trust him. “I saw you running off on Loki earlier. Are you okay?“

You sigh. “I’m just so homesick. I miss being on earth and being surrounded by people who understand society the same way as me“, you glance at Fandral “no offence“ Loki smiles at you,“none taken, but maybe you should specify what you miss exactly?“ You rub your hands over your thighs slowly,“I miss my movies, my apartment, human cooking, the culture, you know?“

Loki sheepishly grins „I don’t, but I guess that’s the issue, huh?“ You shoot him a look „Fandral! I trust you with my problems and all you do is this?“, you exclaim, but can’t fend off a smile. He shrugs and smiles, while ruffling your hair, “That’s what I do, Lady Y/n“

After a while, Loki exits your chambers and rushes towards a quiet place to shift back to his original form as Loki. He was now aware of what had been bothering you so much and a loose plan is already forming in his head, but he would need Thor’s help. He knew more about Midgardians than Loki, so he would surely have an answer.

He walks towards the dining hall, hoping his family was still around and bumped into the God of Thunder on his way. “Brother, what leads you to running around like you’re fleeing from this realm’s fury?“, he chuckles and slings an arm over Loki’s smaller frame. “I need your help, brother. It concerns Lady Y/n’s well being.“, the younger prince discloses.

Thor halts to look at Loki, who is looking at him desperately. “Well, what is it, then?“ Loki tells the story to Thor, who looks to be in deep thought. After a moment, the older one grins, “I’ve got it. We should visit Midgard.. We can go to Lady Y/n’s old apartment and grab some of her valuables. Maybe it’ll make her feel better!“.

And that’s what they do. They meet up with Jane who gives Loki the key to your apartment. “Tell her that I love her, yes?“, she smiles, before Thor and her take off. Loki makes his way to your flat and pauses at the door. Hopefully, he’ll find enough to make you happy again. He puts the key in the hole and turns it to enter.

The first thing his eyes fall upon are some of your old coats. He reaches out to touch the fabric. It’s thick and sturdy and must surely keep one warm. He takes it off the rack and fold it into a bag he brought. Loki moves further into your home and walks into the kitchen. You mentioned you missed the Midgardian food, so he rummages through your cupboards until he finds a cooking book.

He opens it and some yellowish handwritten recipes fall out. They must have been from your ancestors. Loki reads over them quickly. There’s apple pie, a veggie lasagna, cheesecake among others. They must hold a special place in your heart, if you’re still keeping them. He puts the recipes back into the book and places it into the bag. He’ll have to buy some ingredients for the Asgardian chefs, so they can cook these recipes.

He continues to wander through your apartment and find himself in your living room. On the shelf are pictures that show you and different people. One shows you as a toddler, grinning toothily on a man’s lap, probably your father. Loki smiles at the picture. You were a cute child and he was happy your father seemed to love and care for you. He puts this and few other pictures in the bag.

His gaze falls on a stack of movies an cds. Right, he should get you some. You often talked about these so called ‘classics’, so  he browses through them and looks for titles that seem familiar. He ends up with Titanic, Groundhog Day and The Shining, because he vaguely remembers you talking about them. He randomly grabs some more – he can’t help but shake his head at some of the titles, like seriously what kind of name is Willy Wonka – and puts them in the bag.

On his way to your bathroom he also takes a fluffy warm blanket with him. Your bathroom is small and Loki can’t help, but laugh at the rubber duck that’s sitting in your sink. He picks it up and raises it to his face to inspect it. He squeezes it and immediately drops it after it makes a squeaking noise. He glares at the duck and taps it with his boot, before he reluctantly picks it up again and puts it in his bag.

The bathroom doesn’t hold anymore things Loki deems worthy, but a bottle of perfume which makes him remember your smell when you first met. A mixture of lemon, flowers and sweat that he hasn’t realized he missed so badly. Loki then sashays into your bedroom, the memory filling him with child like joy. Upon entering your chamber, he stops to an abrupt halt and holds his breath. The room has your name written all over it. He feels like he’s trespassing into a sacred temple. After he let his eyes roam he lets out the breath he has been holding and rolls his shoulders.

Your old bed catches his attention. It is made just like you do it to your shared bed on Asgard. He lays down on it and breathes in the barely noticeable scent of you and rubs over the bed sheets with his hands. Suddenly, tears are gathering in his eyes and before he can stop them, they are falling down his cheeks. He didn’t notice how much your sadness had been bringing him down.

You are the love of his life and the thought of you, so lifeless and sad makes his heart ache. He cannot lose you. Oh lord, does he hope his little adventure will pay off. He just wants you to be happy again. Loki breathes your scent in deeply, before he wipes away his tears and sits up determined to bring your joy back.

He is about to jump into action when his eyes meet the two button eyes of a brown teddy. It has open arms and a heart on his chest that reads 'press me’. Loki reaches for the bear and follows the instructions, “Hi, I’m Pongo and I already know we’ll be the best of friends”, the teddy says. Loki watches the stuffed toy suspiciously, but then sees you hugging the bear and talking to him and he lets out a giggle. You truly are adorable.

The bear lands in the bag and Loki searches for more of your things. He finds a photo album of you and Jane on your desk. He looks through the pages and stops at a picture of you kissing Jane with a bottle of Midgardian alcohol in your hand. Loki can’t help but playfully shake your head, he had rarely seen you so carelessly. The album also goes in the bag, along with some of your clothes he likes – especially the lingerie – a poster, your guitar and some technological things (“it’s a play station”, you later clarify). He also find some seeds that you’ll maybe have fun with planting and caring for.

He looks through your flat again to see if he missed something and smiles confidently when he doesn’t find anything. He disguises himself as a Midgardian to buy the ingredients necessary for your recipes, before he meets up with Thor and Jane.

“Did you find everything you need?”, she asks. “Yes, I think so. However, I thought I wouldn’t see you again so soon, Lady Jane” Thor laughs at his brother and pulls him to his side, “Jane will join us for a little. We thought Lady Y/n might enjoy to see her again”. Loki thinks about that and nods, “That’s true. Good thinking, brother. I cannot believe I get to see such a miracle with my own eyes” A smirk flashes on the younger god’s face. Thor gracefully ignores the insult and instead hollers for Heimdall to take them back.

The bifrost brings them back safely. “Thor, Loki, Lady Jane, welcome on Asgard”, Heimdall’s voice sounds deep and calm as usual. Thor nods at the gatekeeper and turns to Loki, “Jane and I will go find Lady Y/n. You may execute your wishes in regard of what you have planned for your dame” Loki nods, but cannot help but roll his eyes at his brother. Like he actually needed his permission. He does however pursue his plan.

The sun is already setting when you return to your chamber. You spent the day with Jane and Thor. You missed her greatly and you had a lot of catching up to do, but you had a blast with the couple. However, seeing how loved up they are and how they were always touching or staring into each others eyes made you realize how much you also missed Loki. You shut him out, because you thought you were homesick, but seeing Thor and Jane made you understand that your prince was actually what you missed when you continued to feel worse.

When you enter your bedroom, you expect to see Loki laying on your bed. Instead you see Pongo, your old teddy sitting on his pillow. You smile and hug the toy, when you notice a note on his back. It was sticking to the fur, but you managed to get it off just fine.

My dear Y/n,

I know you have been feeling rather poorly, so I planned this evening to hopefully make you feel better. You are an impeccable woman, my Queen, and whenever something concerns you, I have an insatiable desire to make you feel elated, as you deserve to be. I am the most fortunate man in all the nine realms to have you by my side. If you are willing to see me, find me at your favourite tree in the royal garden.

PS There are some clothes in the wardrobe you might appreciate.

In love,

Loki

You are smiling at the end of his letter and open the wardrobe where you see many of your old clothes, hung neatly next to your Asgardian ones. You change into some comfortable leggings and a comfortable baggy sweater and immediately rush to the magnificent weeping willow near the back of the garden, Pongo secure in your arms. The branches fall gracefully towards the ground and the nearby lake is shimmering in a golden glow. You reach out to move the leaves and step into the secluded area under the tree. A sight you never dreamed of seeing awaits you.

Loki sits on a fluffy blanket, definitely the one your grandma gifted you on Christmas some years ago, a basket is next to him and the air smells of delicious food, it’s familiar, but you can’t point your finger at it. Your boyfriend smiles at you lovingly and stands up to grab your free hand, “My Queen, you made it”

You look him in the eye to try and find an answer, “Loki, what is all this?” He guides you to sit on the blanket and blushes. ��You’ve been feeling so low and I could not bear to see you like this, so I may have taken on Fandral’s form to find out how I could console you.” You raise an eyebrow at him and he shrugs with a sheepish smile on his face, “and then Thor and I traveled to Midgard and Jane gave me a key to your old home and I tried to bring you some of your valuables that might make you happy again. You used to e so cheerful and I desire to give you a feeling of elation”

You stare at him blankly. “Y/n, are you alri-”, he starts, but you cut him off with a hug, “That’s so nice of you and a little creepy, for just going through my stuff, but I know you meant well”, you take his face between your face, “but we’ll talk about this later. Now, I just want you to kiss me, my prince”

With your eyes closed you lean in and press your lips to his gently. His cold lips move with yours in sync and his hands move to your hips to pull you closer. You keep the kiss sweet and Loki sighs into the kiss eventually. “I love you, my Queen”, he whispers against your lips. You smile and open your eyes to find him looking at you. Your forehead meets his and you grin, “I love you too, my prince”

After a minute or so, Loki pulls away and takes one of your hand in his larger one and presses a kiss on your wrist, before he turns to the basket, “I hope you’re hungry, my Queen” You try to look into the basket, but Loki’s body blocks your view. After a moment he lays down a veggie lasagna that look suspiciously like your grandfather’s. You gasp and smile brightly.

“You brought my cooking books?” Loki plates two pieces and smiles, “You mentioned you missed the cuisine, so I thought you might enjoy this” You hum and kiss his cheek, “You’re the best”

You silently enjoy the food and being in your boyfriend’s company. You’re still in awe of how much Loki has done to make you feel better. After you finished, Loki takes out your great aunts cheesecake. “So… desert?”, he asks and you gape at him. He puts the cake down and takes out some of your movies, “or do you want to head inside to view one of these?” You open and close your mouth a few times before you grab the basket and look into it.

You find your play station, your Titanic poster, some of your seeds, some family photos and your pressed wool coat. “I also brought your guitar and your perfume”, Loki adds to your discovery. Tears start to pool in your eyes and you throw yourself at him and bury your face into his neck. “Thank you so much, Loki. This means a lot to me”. He hugs you to him and rubs your back softly. “Anything for you, my Queen”

You showed Loki 'The Notebook’ that evening and you both cried a little, not that Loki would admit to it, and now you’re laying on his chest and draw circles into his chest hair. “You know, seeing Jane today and hearing her talk about life back on earth, I realized that I didn’t actually miss earth. I just missed an idealized version of earth.”, you tell your boyfriend. “How do you mean?”

“I guess I started to miss Jane and then I thought about our memories which I then compared to similar things on Asgard. And I guess I just preferred things how I learned them to be, when I actually prefer Asgard. Most people here are kinder and form a community and there’s significantly less hate among the people. I feel right at home here”, you state and look to Loki to gauge his reaction. He smiles.

“I’m happy you feel that way, my queen, but why didn’t you tell me?” You sigh. “When I realized I missed earth I felt so guilty, because you do so much for me and I felt like I was disappointing you. I now realize that my feelings are valid and that I can talk to you. I’m sorry” Loki gently swipes your hair out of your face, “Hey, don’t be sorry for your feelings and acting irrationally because of them. I’ve been there before”, he says which makes you giggle.

“But seriously, please always remember you can talk to me. You are the most important person in my life and I never want to lose you”, he whispers vulnerably. “I promise I’ll talk to you in the future”, you answer and pull him down to kiss you.

“I love you, my Queen”

“I love you too, my prince”

[the-moon-prince]

The Last Of us~Kurapika x Reader ~Chapter IV

AN: Hi my lovely fellows!

A new chapter! I tried my best to develop further the self insert character and clarify more its backstory and clan! I have somethings planned I hope you’ll enjoy. Thank you so much for all you support and I thank you for reading!

I wish you a pleasant read, and I hope you’ll enjoy the new chapter of my story.  (Chapter I) (Chapter II) (Chapter III) (Chapter V  soon!)

Paring: Kurapika Kurta x GN! Reader

Word count: 2 307

TW: None!

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Everything in life has a continuation. Kurapika and (Y/n)'s relationship is also subject to this law. An undeniable detail was that the lives of both subjects were terribly busy and loaded. Notably, the activities that Kurapika was involved in were lightened. (Y/n) held their word to assist him in his cause, as their work turned out to be advantageous. Primarily when it came to retrieving scarlet eyes. Kurapika even recovered two more pairs not long after by the dint of their research.

Another point in common was that the two were- Or at least when they wanted- very organized. The majority of encounters took place after they departed their jobs with the Nostrade. Consisting most frequently in small walks in nearby parks, have coffee or read together. Accommodating conversations that permitted them to know each other.

"What is the reason behind your decision to study psychiatry?" It occurred to Kurapika to bid during a walk. The situation was atypical; people with profitable prior careers didn't take the Hunter exam, not to mention how extremely young (Y/n) was, being just a year younger than him. But knowing the introversion of his partner, he decided to go little by little.

"My grandad was one. I aspired to be similar to him.

He had a treasury full of medicine and psychiatry titles I loved to read, I also sneaked into his conversations on the subject!" -(Y/n) gloated, with a tiny rocking and a smile.-"I find the functioning of the brain stimulating! And I like to help, it makes me feel useful. One of his acquaintances invited me to be his apprentice several times ago. I just accepted." 

It was not rare for them to get together in the same room for each to work on their matters. They spent time in each other's presence. It was what mattered to them. 

~

In the beginning, (Y / n) was the one that expressed questions the most. Especially details that many would judge insignificant.-"What is your preferred flavor of ice cream?" "Your favorite color? Mine is (Fav .color)" What musical genre do you prefer? I like (Fav. genre), I'm particularly a David Bowie fan." The answers to those questions were vanilla, light gray, and jazz. (Y/n) liked to accumulate all the possible details about Kurapika. More than once he was surprised that the (hair/colored) remembered, like what candy he preferred from the local store, that he liked his water slightly cooler than room-temperature or they reminded him to take a break from using his contact lenses. (Y/n) was also very vocal, consciously or not, with what they liked about Kurapika. They made him blush more than once with "you look pretty today", "you are kind, thank you" or "I love your eyes, they are blue dog's eyes". He had no clue what the latter meant or where were their origins, but (Y/n) said it so lovingly that he couldn't help feeling like it was the greatest of compliments.

Kurapika relied most on studying (Y/n) body language to approach them. He soon realized that while their face was not very expressive, the rest of their body tended to be. When they were waiting for something that excited them, they tapped the table with their long nails. They used to hold the door for the person behind them and him. And the two things that Kurapika found the most adorable of all, they tilted their head when they thought of something and flapped their hands when they were excited-even if they tried to suppress it on occasions. Something that Kurapika was not anticipating at all, particularly considering its dexterity and exactness from the time they fought, was (Y/n) clumsiness. They took bad or silly postures and never tied their shoes- Kurapika suspected them to not know how-.

He loved to tease (Y/n) with it. Expressly when they caught a light pole in the road, for not paying attention while they talked.

(Y/n) reminded him so much of Pairo, shy, a tad playful, and caring.

Pairo...

He would have liked to meet Yorknew. Observe everything Kurapika had seen. He sure would have liked the cinnamon rolls and the city lights. It was cruel and wicked. 

"Kurapika"- a quiet voice took him away from his thoughts. His head stung.

"Here's your tea, sunshine"-(Y/n) placed a cup full of steaming cinnamon tea in front of him, and proceeded to sit down.-"Are you fine?"

"Yes, I was just... just thinking."- Kurapika mumbled and looked at his cup.

 "I see. It is not wrong to miss someone. It simply signifies you love them, and they're important to you."-They mumbled, also looking down at the tea, as if they were capable of reading his mind. They certainly didn't read minds. Just missed someone too.-"If we don't remember them no one else will."- (Y/n) muttered as if the statement was also for them. They wanted nothing more than to comfort him. In one effort they dubiously lifted their hand and started to gently rub his back.

Kurapika turned to see them.-"You call me sunshine now?" He wanted to tease them. It didn't work.

(Y/n) nooned with pride.-"Because of your hair, the color evokes a ray of sunshine. Without sunlight, the flowers do not grow, therefore it is important. You are valuable to me."-Completely overlooking the other man's intentions. Kurapika covered his face with his hands and started laughing. He felt better.

"You are sickly sweet!"- he exclaimed, shaking his head. 

"I am. And you're sneakier than you seem." (Y/n) similarly joked. They rested their heads on the hand, drinking tea. They maybe were sappy, but in the end, Kurapika loved it. He had someone to comfort him and with whom he could play. How he had missed this!

"Your piano is nearly the only furniture you have in your living room, and I haven't seen you play it yet."-continued taking a sip of his tea. He didn't know if (Y/n) played the piano, but they certainly prepared good tea.

"I am not very skilled. I am incapable of composing anything, and I haven't played for a long time. I was taught how to play some melodies, and that's what I play."

"May I see?"-Kurapika requested, for (Y/n) to approach the grand piano. They opened the tone's cover and he started to play. Sol-Fa Re Si-Fa Re Si ( https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=f81rM4BKODw ). It sounded like a child's song, sweet and simple.

"My grandad was better. Verily, the instruments make me nostalgic, I have them essentially for that." They babbled once finished.

"You're not awful either." The blonde assured-"Did he teach you?" 

(Y/n) agreed with a smile. "We fancied dancing and singing. My people liked artistic activities, we were somewhat hippies." they joked with a melancholic undertone.

"And the Kurta?"-their interests were genuine

Kurapika was surprised, it was the first time anyone had asked him. He couldn't help but respond excitedly.- "Well, I traveled with a friend, his name was Pairo. We transported ourselves on the backs of huge birds called Pikos! It was really fun... did you had something similar to travel?"

(Y/n) stared at him for a moment, tilting their head "We were the animals...", to them, the answer was a bit obvious. Why would they mount animals for transportation if they could transform themselves into animals?

"That seems lawful... I quite omitted that detail." Kurapika notified. I forgot that people like (Y/n) were part beast. They hardly ever mentioned him and he hadn't seen them in their other form either.

(Y/n) Laughed-"And we used normal cars. Uniliums didn't live very detached from humans. Our community was like 40 away from the city and most adults worked in it. We just maintained our animal figure in private. Most humans didn't have a clue they were fraternizing with us." They were delighted to talk about their peers. Like when you talk about a family member you haven't seen in a long time.

"What kind of animals were they?"-.Kurapika's curiosity about the group only increased. Besides if he knew more about them he would also know more about his (Y/n).

They hummed, -"Well... we were all mammals. Most were preys, for each predator, there was an average of 13 preys. Of 126 members, we were 10. There were mice, rabbits, deers. But no one was sure how to determine which animal would be an offspring."- They cheerfully explained, general information. But nothing about themselves. 

Kurapika would have to question directly.-"And you?"

"I am the cat. But I was raised by wolves, like Romulus and Remus. Who knows? I might establish my own empire!"-(Y/n) played.

It was the first time they mentioned it. But now that he reflected, (Y/n) resembled a cat. They had particularly long fangs and claws.

"I didn't know your parents were wolves!" Kurapika felt he was finally learning a little more about his lover's past. But the reaction received was not the one he expected. An ordinary person, he included, would be glad to remember his parents.

(Y/n) quitted smiling and leaned their head into their folded arms. The atmosphere in the room had changed.-"They are average humans. As we mix with humans, it was not uncommon for some to marry them. My grandfather's mother and my grandfather, who were Uniliums, married humans. My mother was human and married another human."- they mumbled. Kurapika felt that the topic was not very pleasant for them, and considered it appropriate to stop that conversation.

"I comprehend..."-and changed the topic-"Kurtas were further separated. It was difficult to get outward of our village. This to guard us. Controlling the scarlet eyes and our emotions was not easy. Many panicked when they saw them."

(Y/n) seemed to quickly forget the preceding topic and willingly listened to their beloved again.-"I understand that. Some humans were also afraid of us, they believed we were demons or beasts. The funny thing is that the deluded wouldn't recognize us."-they mocked-"Sentiments could also influence our appearance. But our parents taught us to be cautious since cubs." 

(Y/n) had seen Kurapika with his scarlet eyes, but he hadn't seen them in their beast form. The most he had seen was that night when they saw him straight in the eye, and their pupils were contracted, like a cat's, and the (e/c) had almost fully spread.

"You have never revealed your cat form to me. I bet you're adorable!"- He expressed in an attempt to satiate his curiosity. 

They sure weren't anticipating that request, following a moment of hesitation, they lilted "I presume I get accustomed to wearing this shape."

Kurapika wanted (Y/n) to have confidence in him. He understood the concern in showing foreigners such aspects. After all, they had both been marginalized and punished for their looks.-"It's not going to be unpleasant to me. I like cats." he offered them a sweet smile. 

At the moment he blinked and reopened his eyes, (Y/n) had a pair of fuzzy (color) cat ears, the right one with a tiny darker spot on the tip, a fluffy tail, and their hair was slightingly fuzzed up. Maybe the most remarkable thing was their feet, long and standing on the tip.

 Their eyes changed again, and their hands were slightly larger with wider claws; to ultimately have the appearance of a cat-humanoid. They didn't look so different and they were still (Y/n). 

Kurapika didn't see anything devilish about the person in front of him. Rather, he saw an exotic beauty, like fantastic creatures from magical books. He felt lucky to be able to witness something of that bearing and have that experience. What was so special to him was that this being was his partner.

"You certainly are a kitten. That's something you can do in that form?"-Kurapika interrogated.

(Y/n) took a minute to consider, head tilted as usual- the only difference is that their ears moved delicately-. They raised their open hands, showing some very pink set to digital pads, advanced towards him wagging his tail, and cupping his face with a cute smile.

"Your hands are very soft, darling."-Kurapika giggled at the silly idea. (Y/n)'s grin grew wider, closed its eyes, and in complete pride said "I have paws, honey!" That was true. Not many could say they had paws. Especially a so soft and warm pair. (Y/n) appeared happy and relieved, as if they had been discharged from a weight or they were finally doing something they had repressed.

"And you also have marshmallow cheeks. Can you do something particular under that form?"-As Kurapika enjoyed the softness of the caring touch, his question was not precisely answered.

(Y/n) separated their paws from his face, and showed its claws. "I have retractile claws, like, well, a cat. Under this form my strength and speed increase. My bite force equals that of a Jaguar. Ultimately I'm capable of using a more potent nen's technique since my aura flow grows. Although, you know I'm a pacifist. I tend to be softer..."

"You look like a big plush doll. Yet, this appearance may be tricky. You absolutely are a cat."- Kurapika could recognize why (Y/n)'s clan was killed to extermination. Many collectors would be filled with sick and devious pride to have such a creature. He was happy that at least (Y/n) survived. For the first time, he was happy that he too survived.