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plush-rabbit · 3 years ago

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I Want To Hear You Say It

Ch. 8: Did You Find What You Were Looking For?

Word Count: 6.8K

A/N: A fun filler chapter!! (I wanted to split the chapter, but it didn’t feel right so yall get a long one:))

Prev.

It’s quiet between the two men. It isn’t out of the ordinary, while they might be close- or as close as two villains can be- their conservations are usually short and limited to only certain subjects, neither of which any of the men want to approach. Shuichi doesn’t know when it started, he just knows that it has. Him and the other members have noticed the sudden change that Shigaraki has taken on lately. The secrecy- more so than usual- along with the sneaking out late at night and sneaking back in just before dawn. No one knows where he’s going and even if one did manage to follow him, they lost him just as easily, almost as if Shigaraki was making it all that much harder to track him and his location.

There’s different bets going around. Twice believes that he’s gone to underground concerts which host both villains and civilians alike- he’s sure Jin had mentioned that he went to a few to acquire some cheap alcohol. Toga believes that he’s gone out to try to find out where Kurogiri exactly is, and as far-fetched as that is, it’s not impossible. Dabi likes to believe that he’s gone to some internet café since the “internet sucks” here at the current base. He isn’t wrong, the little internet that they do get is from a coffee place opposite of where they rest for now. Mr. Compress and Magne don’t really want to get into it, commenting that as long as he isn’t leading anyone back, then it’s all okay. Shuichi on the other hand doesn’t know what to think. There’s something off about Shigaraki now. He isn’t sure what, but there just is. He’s constantly checking his phone, looking at the screen for far too long, and when someone gets close, he shuts his phone off.

Shuichi glances to where Shigaraki leans against the wall, his legs over the edge of the bed, and hands holding onto the controller, pinkies extended outward. “I’ve been meaning to ask you something,” Shuichi states, his hands gripping on the controller, his claw pressing carefully on the joystick. Tomura hums in response, his eyes glued to the screen before him, his character successfully stealing a car. Shuichi nervously clears his throat, a chill running through his body as he follows Shigaraki’s avatar through the city. “You’ve been out a lot these past nights.” In the corner of his eye, he sees the slightest still of him, his thumb hovering over a button before he presses on it. “We’re all-” he struggles to find a proper word for the feelings of unrest that have been growing inside the team- “wondering about where you’ve been.”

“Does it matter?” Tomura replies, his eyes now narrowed and the top of his lip curling upward. Shuichi’s gaze is fixated on him, and Tomura lets out a sigh. “I’ve just been meeting with someone. It’s nothing to worry about.”

It isn’t enough. He’s sure that he can press just a little more. Just enough for him to slip about something other than meeting someone for a meeting. His canine nips at the soft pink flesh inside of his mouth. “You aren’t usually so distant about these types of things,” Shuichi comments, his attention to the game half-hearted.

“What type of things?” There’s an edge to Shigaraki’s words and if Shuichi weren’t so curious, maybe he would have backed off.

“You know-” he shrugs his shoulders and his character moves away from the other’s avatar- “going out and meeting with potential recruits. You’d at least send one of us to do it. Like with Twice. Twice is good with people. He always makes sure he isn't being followed. Shouldn’t it be- I don’t know, Mister, or Dabi-” his avatar rummages through his inventory before pulling out a knife- “even me?”

He can be good for something other than pure missions where it involves needing someone to drive. When he spares a glance at his leader, he sees him deep in thought, his fingers resting over the buttons, and his character still. “It isn’t like that,” Shigaraki states with an unusual distaste in his words. “This is a special case. They’re a special case,” he corrects, “I don’t want them to be freaked out by outsiders.” For a moment, he and Shigaraki lock eyes in the reflection of the television. “They were freaked enough when it was just me.”

“No offense, but you aren’t exactly the most comforting person in the League. That would go to Magne or even Mister.” Shuichi tries to tease, hoping that the lighter mood would offer just another snippet of information.

“It took them a long time to trust me. Or at least to feel safe around me. I’m not risking it by introducing new characters to the mix.” Whatever or whoever it is that Shigaraki is hiding, he does a good job at it.

“Is it even safe?” Shuichi presses, his character just running around a building, not doing anything in particular. He doesn’t know what answer to expect. It must be safe if Shigaraki continues to visit him, but what if it isn’t. What if he’s being led to a false sense of security?

“Is what safe?” Shigaraki asks with an annoyed tone. It’s apparent that he doesn't want to have this talk, but Shuichi does. He needs to know what's going on. He’s here for Stain and as long the League will uphold that bit of ideology, then he’ll stay. It’s not as if he has anywhere else to go.

“Meeting them,” Shuichi says as if it is the most obvious thing in the world. He’s met with silence. “If you can’t trust them to meet us, then what makes you think they won’t sell you out?” It might be cruel, he isn’t entirely sure, but it’s the truth. If they were scared to meet Shigaraki, it’s only fear that is keeping them compliant and eventually that will run out.

“They won’t,” he responds with a serious tone. “I know them. I know who they are and where they are. They won’t do something like that.” His character stops moving and he can hear the controller creak under the hands of Shigaraki. “You don’t know them. I do. They won’t snitch.

Shuichi turns to him, his controller on his lap as he leans close to Shigaraki. He has to understand where he’s coming from. If the roles were reversed, he’d be acting the same. He’d be just as accusatory, if not more. “But-”

“I have to go.” Shigaraki places the controller down on the bed and moves away, the floorboards quietly creaking under him as he stands. “Log off for me, will ya? I need to go.”

The door closes and once again, Shuichi is left alone. Behind him, the screen shifts in color, and when he turns, Shigaraki’s character has been killed. Carefully, a scaled hand picks up the discarded controller only to place it down gently beside him. The menu pops up and the game is saved, the screen returning to normal after a second, the character now revived, and suddenly standing next to Shuichi’s character.

He isn’t sure what’s going on, but at least he knows that whoever it is that Shigaraki is visiting, is someone that he cares for. The screen goes black and Shuichi is left to stare at his reflection. The room is quiet and only lit by a flickering bulb that remains lit. There’s a knock on his door, and when he turns to face it, there are shadows between the space of the door and the floor. He scratches at his snout, his claws picking at dried skin and ripping it away. “Come in,” he says, leaning against the wall and watching as the remainder of the League walks into his room, letting the door close with a soft click of the lock coming into place.

Magne is the first to speak. “So? Did you find out anything useful? Are we getting a new recruit?”

“Or is he going to some concert?” Twice says, interrupting Magne with a hand on her shoulder. “Who’s right? Who wins the bet?”

With a simple roll of the eyes, Magne continues onwards. “Ignore the bet, what’s he doing?” She runs a hand through his hair and plays with the ends as they all stare at Shuichi with a waiting explanation.

He shrugs. It’s the honest answer that he can give. “I don’t know. I don’t think- Where he’s going to, it isn’t to meet with recruits. He seems almost-” he hesitates to find the correct word- “protective about them.”

“Who’s “them”?” Dabi asks, his gaze focused on the television that still buzzes with electricity.

Once again, he shrugs. “I don’t know. I tried as best as I could, but when I pushed, he shut down. And then he just said he had to go and left.” Shuichi glances at the television, frowning when it still remains just him in the reflection. “All I know is that they’re easily skittish, he doesn’t want us to meet them, and he’s defensive when it comes to him.”

The bed dips as Toga sits on it, her legs crossed and a pillow pulled to her lap. “Well, lucky for us, I managed to actually follow where he’s been going,” she says with a smug attitude, her grin wide and kittenish. All eyes are on her and she sits straight, her hands playing with the edge of the pillow case, wrapping a thread around her finger. “I had to take somebody’s blood but whatever. I doubt he suspected something because I saw him enter some apartment.”

“An apartment?” Mr. Compress asks, his head leaning to a side. “With tenants? Or was it abandoned?”

“Tenants. I saw people go in and out. You know, like civilians. So I guess, whoever he is meeting, it means we all lost the bet.” The attention is still on her, confusion written on everyone’s face and she sighs. “I’m sure of it. The woman I was disguised as was even greeted by someone who lives there.”

“When was this?” Dabi asks, his eyes on Toga. “Time wise,” he clarifies.

“Um, maybe around, two in the morning?” Toga shrugs and moves further onto the bed. “I didn’t check the time, but it was late.” her legs are out straight and Magne sits beside her.

Magne starts talking, her fingers tapping against her knees. “It’s a bit later than when he usually goes out but-”

“And you’re sure it was him?” Mr. Compress asks, taking a step closer to her, his eyes narrowed in confusion as he takes in the new information when Toga nods. “Do you remember where it was?” Once again, Toga nods, pulling out a piece of folded paper and handing it towards the man. The paper crinkles as he opens it and the two standing behind him, inch closer to read what it says. “Huh,” he breathes out. “Should we pay a visit?”

“A visit?” Shuichi hisses. “We don’t even know who they are. All we know is that they live-”

“You said it yourself,” Dabi interjects, his eyes grabbing at the paper and tucking into his pocket. “Whoever it is, is skittish. They’re scared. Which means that if that hand-covered bitch could force them into submission, then we can too.” Shuichi glowers at the man and Dabi sighs. “We aren’t gonna kill them or anything, we just want to see who it is. Aren’t you curious about who it is that lives there?” Shuichi’s silence is enough of an answer. Dabi grins, wide and devious, as if this is all some sort of game to him. “Exactly. We’ll visit when we know that Shigaraki can’t. Maybe an hour or two before his usual time and we’ll just scope out this new person.”

“When are we going? Tonight? Tomorrow?” Twice asks, glancing around as he moves past Mr. Compress to sit on the bed with the other three. “The sooner the better, right?” His shoulders slump and hands clench and he stares at the other slowly. “Or should we plan this to make sure there is no room for mistake,” his voice has shifted to something a bit deeper, a tad more serious than his excitement just moments ago. “If Shigaraki catches us,” his tone returns to a more enthusiastic nature, “he’d definitely be pissed.” There’s a pause and everyone glances at each other, before finally returning to Twice. “That’s totally a yes.”

It won't be the first or last time that you complain to yourself on why you chose to have a floor that wasn’t the first. It isn’t a long climb, but it's excruciating when you carry bags of groceries that are digging into the joints of your fingers. You’re stubborn and too tired to make more than one trip, and even if you weren’t, you usually carry tote bags to place the items in, but you must’ve forgotten it in your apartment before you left. All you really want to do is just sit down, but you can’t. At least, not until you’re inside.

You struggle between the bags to reach your keys, the bags knocking against each other as your hands try to inch for your keys that hang around your neck. The key is inserted shakily, twisting the key while your hand also twists farther than usual as you pull the key out. Your brows pinched as you quickly enter your apartment, letting the bags fall onto the floor, as you close the door with your hip.

You let out a heavy sigh, flexing your hands as you try to ease the pain that has gathered. When you kick your shoes off, you kick them to the side, sparing a glance to the couch, as you lower yourself to pick up the bags. As you do so, you hesitate. There’s something wrong. Something feels wrong to you- enough to make you uncomfortable and all too aware of how you can feel someone watching you. It starts off easy enough- how your scalp itches, how the clothes on your body doesn’t feel right and pricks too much against your skin, and the forced silence that is in your apartment. You quickly rise and turn, your hand going to grab at the doorknob, only to have the pointed end of a knife directed towards you.

Yellow eyes stare at you, a thin smile decorating a young girl’s face and all you can do is raise your hands in front of you, your eyes catching against a sea of colors as six people stand in front of your couch. How you missed them, you have no idea, but you’re sure that they only wanted to reveal themselves to you know.

“You should lock the door,” the girl says sweetly, twisting the knife. A gleam catches along the metal and you nod, slowly reaching behind you to put the lock into place, your breath caught in your throat. Your hand is clasped over the doorknob, the tips of your fingers teasing against the lock. The young girl’s eyes flitter to where you tease at the lock, and she shakes her head. “You shouldn’t do that. Come on, come sit.”

Behind her the others watch you, a slight shift in their weight as they analyze what you’re about to do. You wouldn’t be able to run even if you wanted to- you’d have to unlock the door, and turn around, while leaving your back exposed to people who are clearly criminals. You nod slowly, and the girl steps back allowing you to walk further in your apartment, all eyes on you as you sit down on the ouch, your knees pinched together as your legs shake. Your groceries are sitting precariously by the door, and you worry that the milk is going to leave the bag wet and sticking to the jug.

Your face burns, legs shaking and teeth clasped down on the inside of your cheeks as six menacing people stand in front of you. You can’t handle the silence, the stares and the uncertainty of whatever is going to happen. In your back pocket, your phone sticks out, a vibration against your backside the curiosity for that is another fatality for you.

“Why are you here?” Your voice is quiet, your eyes on the tip of black boots that have scuff marks over them and splatter of mud against them.

“Do you mind if we sit?” You look back up, a man in a white mask with organic black lines stares down at you- at least that’s what you assume he’s doing.

The collar of your shirt feels too tight, restricting every breath, every word, every small swallow of saliva in an attempt to do something that isn’t clawing against your forearms. You nod. “Yeah- I uh, yeah,” you stutter. “I don’t mind.”

“Relax, we aren’t here to hurt you.” A heavy hand is held out to you and you stare at it with distrust, the owner of the hand removing their white rimmed, triangular sunglasses. “You can call me Magne.”

“She’s like our sister!” The younger girl says cheerfully, wrapping her arm around Magne’s, leaning her head against the woman’s bicep. Her small falls into something flat, the enthusiasm in her voice gone. “So you shouldn’t disrespect her in any way.”

You nod quickly, leaning over and taking Magne’s hand in yours. “Hi, it’s um, it’s nice to meet you, Magne,” you say quickly, giving her a nervous smile.

“I’m Twice!” A man in a black suit stretches his hand outwards to you, the suit clinging to his skin and showing off his muscles, and you fear that he’s done much worse than a simple break-in like this. You nod slowly, reaching towards the warm hand, your arm given a curt handshake. “That’s Toga-” he points to the young girl who smiles at you, her arms now removed from Magne’s. You’re about to give another greeting when another speaks up. “That’s Mr. Compress-” he points to a man in a yellow coat who nods, and tips his hat towards you. “Spinner-” a green-scaled man narrows his eyes at you and you look away, staring at the last one to be introduced. “And that’s Dabi!” The man in black hair and purple colored scars- or maybe burns- nods at you, his face devoid of emotion.

You smile but when it’s unreturned, you give a weak cough and look away from him and try to find comforting eyes that you can stare at, but none of them are comforting to you. You settle back at Dabi, giving him a small smile. Twice has yet to let go of your hand and you don’t want to risk anything by pulling away too soon. “I’m- my name is-”

“We know what your name is,” Dabi says with an attitude, the first sign of emotion that you’ve gotten from one of the people who have broken into your home. That thought leaves you feeling unsettled. It’s usually Tomura who does that and yet, he is nowhere to be found.

“Okay,” you say with a crack in your voice, nodding and looking back at your hand that is still extended outwards.

“Don’t be mean, Dabi,” Toga says with a pout, smacking the side of his arm as she huffs and crosses her arms. “Now they won’t trust us.”

There’s a tap against the back of your hand when you stare back at Twice, his shoulders are squared. “And you already know our Leader Shigaraki, right?” His voice has changed tone into something more serious and with the accusation, your nervous smile fades away, and when you stare back, his hand is now squeezing down on yours.

The whites of his mask make it difficult to look him in the eye. It makes it difficult to feel safe. Magne had told you that they wouldn’t hurt you but even if she is the resident big sister, it seems as if Twice doesn’t follow her loosely based rule. His hand is squeezing yours, and you wince, and your lungs that were deprived of air are suddenly filled once again when you take in a sharp inhale.

“They won’t talk if you break their hand, twice.” Your head is bent and you are unable to see who it is that is talking to him. The steps are heavy against the floors and you’re trying to pull your hand away, when a rough one covers yours. You look up to meet the eyes of Spinner, yours are filled with tears and his with something that you can’t quite make out. Your hand is let go, and you scramble to sit further against the couch, your legs bent to your chest as they all watch you. Spinner’s attention is redirected at Twice. “I told you the information I had on them, including how weirdly protective Shigaraki is with them.

You cradle your hand and then Dabi speaks. “You mind calling him? We all kind of want to see the look on his face when he comes in and sees that we found out about his little secret.” It’s then that emotion finally spills out, his lips stretching into a smug grin as he slouches over your couch, his leg bent over the other as he stares at you, nodding for you to pull out your phone.

You’re glad that you never installed a password for your phone, you’re sure that with your current anxiety skyrocketing, you’d be unable to put in the correct pin. Dabi steps towards you and watches over your shoulder as you struggle to go to your contact list, and he’s right there at the very top under the “A”. You tap the phone button and place him on speaker, the ringing going off immediately.

“Alleyway?” Dabi asks, leaning close to you, and you stiffen, the scent of alcohol and smoke a bit too strong for you. “Who the fuck is- Why is he put under “alleyway”?” There’s a hint of amusement laced into his words, but you aren’t in the right headspace to make any quippy comment.

“It’s um-” you clear your throat and give him a forced smile- “It’s an inside joke.” You sniffle and the tip of your nose with the side of your hand as you hear the call ring. You desperately hope that he’ll pick up. He promised that he would. Or at least, he insinuated that when you needed him, he’ll come for you. Maybe you held too much trust in him. You frown. You held too much trust in a mass murderer. You suck in your bottom lip and press the top of your teeth down against the soft flesh. Surely, there must be something wrong with you for you to even hold any amount of trust in a man like that, but to be fair, he did… do something to the man who assaulted you, and that was sweet of him. Sort of.

You hear the phone click and you look down, the timer starting as his voice is echoed into the room, everyone leaning closer to you to hear what he has to say. “What’s wrong?” A smile slowly curves your lips, and you look away, your hand covering your ever growing smile. He’s worried for you. Granted you don’t call him, so he must be worried or at least surprised by this. “Are you okay?”

You look at Dabi who gives you a curt nod and you take a shaky inhale. “I- So, um, you’re friends are here.” There’s a pause. “At my place,” you add, wanting to clarify.

“You were supposed to tell him to come over,” Twice whines, slumping in his seat with arms crossed. His tone shifts and you hold the phone tight in your hands. “Didn’t Dabi tell you he wanted to see his reaction?”

“I thought the nod was to tell him,” you retort in a high-pitched voice, your face aflame. “I didn’t know I was supposed to just tell him to come over. He would have come over on his own. There wasn’t any reason to call him!” By the end the volume of your voice has risen, your lungs devoid of air as you try to push your statements out.

“They’re there now?” He asks and you let out a sigh, dipping your head forward and nodding, mumbling a soft yes, when you realize that he can’t see you nodding.

“No dipshit, we’re here tomorrow,” Dabi says, humor heavy in his voice as his clasps around your shoulder and his other hand covers yours, bringing your phone close to his lips. “What the fuck do you think?”

“Can we not curse? We’re probably giving Shigaraki’s poor partner a heart attack as we speak,” Mr. Compress comments.

“We just broke into their apartment,” Toga says with a disbelief, and when you look up, he’s rolling her eyes at Mr. Compress’s stare- or at least what you assume, given his mask is still on but pointed in her direction. “I’m pretty sure if that didn’t kill ‘em, then cursing won’t do it either.”

“This was a horrible idea,” Spinner comments, running a clawed hand through his hair.

“I’m going over right now,” Tomura comments. “Just wait for me there, okay? I’ll see you as soon as I can.” Immediately after, he hangs up, and without saying goodbye, your phone blinks the time of the call to you, and you’re left alone in a room full of notorious villains who aren’t fond of you.

It’s silent for a moment, the little debate now put to rest and your phone is still in your hand, Dabi having let go of you after Tomura hanged up. You can still feel the burning sensation that he left, the roughness of his hand that is different compared to Tomura’s. It’s uncomfortable and you’re left shaking your leg, your phone fading to black.

“Hey,” when you look up, Toga is snapping her fingers to get your attention and you nod. “Do you have anything to drink here? I’m kind of thirsty.”

You’re bewildered for a second staring at her with wide eyes as if she hadn’t just had a knife pointed towards you. You nod. “Yeah, I think I have some water and ginger ale. I think I also have lemonade,” you say, pointing to where the kitchen is. “Do you want me to go get it for you?”

“Yes, please,” she chirps, smiling sweetly at you and pulling the sleeves of her sweater further down. “Just bring me whatever, I’m not that picky.”

“Yeah, okay.” You rise to stand and when you take a step towards the kitchen. You point to the empty space between each member, your smile still tense but more polite than before. “Uh, do you guys want anything to drink? I might have some mango and peach drinks too.”

“Oh wait! I change my answer! Can I have a mango drink?” Toga asks, leaning towards you, her smile eager.

“I’ll have a mango too,” Spinner adds, raising his hand and lowering it when you nod.

“Ginger ale for me!” Twice comments.

“A peach for me,” Magne adds.

“I’ll take water,” Dabi says, spreading his arms against the back of the couch.

“I’ll go along with you to help,” Mr. Compress adds, standing up and walking beside you, hooking his arm with yours. “I’ll choose when we get there. Just lead the way, dear.”

You walk before pausing and rushing to the door. “Wait, wait!” You call, grabbing your grocery bags. “Let me go put these away before anything spoils,” you say, dashing to the kitchen with Mr. Compress behind you.

In the kitchen, you begin to assort things where they belong, frowning when some bags are wet and uncomfortable, and you toss them to the sink. The man in the mask has taken it upon himself to aid you in placing things away, organizing your fridge to make sure that it all fits neatly. Once done, Mr. Compress leans down to look through your fridge, his arms reaching inside and pulling out a drink one by one, letting them rest on the floor where you immediately grab them.

“I think I might have a bottle of Qoo somewhere in there. I’m not entirely sure,” you drift, your hands slowly growing cold the longer you hold onto the drinks. “You’re to take it. I think it’s apple flavored.”

He rises with his drink in hand. The Qoo and you nod at his choice. “Has it been in here long?” He asks, spinning the bottle around to check for an expiration date. You shrug in response and he grabs his mask, pulling it away from his face to reveal his face still hidden but now with a balaclava. The white mask flashes and in its place is a small marble that is put inside his pocket. “I suppose it can’t be bad to drink something like this then.” You nod, turning around, before he stops. “Ah, before we go back, is it okay to ask you a question? Once again, you nod, placing the drinks down on the counter. “What is your relationship with Shigaraki?”

Even you still don’t know the answer. You’ve already admitted that it’s easier to be with him than to deny him. It’s safer that way, but you still can’t help but smile when he actively cares for you. “We’re together,” you conclude, knowing that even if it were vague, it still answered his question. “You know, as a couple.”

“Willing?” He adds, twisting the cap off of his drink, bringing it close to his lips. You narrow your eyes at him. “Forgive me, but while Shigaraki isn’t ugly, he’s still a villain. He has his faults as we all do, but as a close comrade, I have to ask, why is it that you chose to date him?” You swallow and turn away from him, your hands chilled and slightly wet as you cross your arms. “This remains between us, but I’m not against the others getting involved. It may not seem like it, but we’ve all stuck together for a reason.”

You let out a humorless chuckle. “Is that a threat?” You stare at him, your stomach twisting into knots.

“It’s just a word of advice,” he replies, the drink in his hand as he slowly clasps it back. The mascot stares at you with a wide grin and you regret allowing him to take the last of your Qoo- even if it was forgotten in the back of your fridge.

“He liked me first.” You bite the inside of your cheek, trying to push yourself to stay focused and not tear up in front of a man you don’t know. “He’s persuasive in all sorts of ways. I just found it easier to be with him rather than be scared of him.” You shrug, gathering the drinks back into your arms. “He’s nice to me. He’s done me a huge favor and even if I don’t agree with his- er- line of work, I’m not going to report him or anything. He hasn’t exactly given me an out with this relationship, but he hasn’t been forceful with me or anything. Maybe a bit scary, but he’s been okay.” With a free hand, you scratch at your neck and tilt your head, frowning. “It’s just a weird mix of easy and difficult with him.”

“So you were forced into the relationship,” he concludes and you shrug.

“I uh- I found him injured one night and I fixed him up the best I could.” You finally choose to look at the man before you, your stomach churning so quickly, you’re afraid that you really are tasting acid on your tongue. “The next night he came back and he was- I guess, for lack of a better word, obsessed with me?” It sounds so conceited, but it’s the truth. You break away from his gaze and take a step back, already wanting to return to the living room, the drinks leaving you freezing. “He was sweet, but you know, forceful with the idea that we were together. I don’t mind it- now at least- I was scared in the beginning, but it’s nice just knowing he will be there for me.”

Mr. Compress nods his head slowly, reaching over to grab a few drinks in his hands. “I suppose that’s a good enough answer.” He walks ahead of you, standing by the door frame when he looks back. “Come on, let’s go back.”

Back in the living room, the drinks are handed to each respective person, your hands cold as you sit above them, cushioned between your thighs and the couch. You keep your gaze on Mr. Compress who smiles gently at you before thanking you for the drink. You turn away when you hear rapid knocking at your door, the handle twisting, trying to break against the lock.

You know that it’s him. It has to be him. And despite any ill feelings that you had towards him before, you want him to be here. You rise up, dashing to the door and unlocking it, greeted by Tomura who looks at you briefly, before staring behind you where his friends sit. He pushes past you, closing the door behind him and removing his hood, his hair ruffles and strands misplaced as he pushes you behind him.

“What the fuck are you all doing here?” Tomura asks, holding your hand in his. You look down, the glove covering his hand and his fingertips seem softer somehow. You look back up, your eyes meeting with Mr. Compress and you look back down, taking a step closer to him, your hand rising to clutch the back of his sweatshirt in your grip.

“We’re drinking, what does it look like?” Dabi resorts, taking a sip of his water as if to prove his point.

Tomura turns to you and you hold his hand in both of yours, looking away from him. “Did they hurt you?” You snort and shake your head. “Don’t lie to me.” His hand pulls away from your grasp, leaving your hands intertwined with each other. He holds your face, lifting it upwards to face him. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

A part of you wonders what he’d do if you say no. They didn’t try to hurt you- except for the hand crushing- but you rather not get on any of their bad sides. You smile delicately at him, nodding your head and stepping closer to him, letting your forehead press against his chest, before you pull away to look at him. “Yeah, I’m good. You know me, I get spooked easily.” You pull away from him and grab his hand, pulling him toward the couch. “Come on, let’s sit. Do you want something to drink? I have ginger ale,” you say, with a lilt at the end and he nods. His hand curves against the back of your head and he pulls you close, his head leaning down and you think he’s going to kiss you, but he lets go before he can and walks to the kitchen.

“He took that a lot better than I thought,” Magne comments, holding her drink in her hand. “You think he’s going to explode later?”

“Obviously,” Dabi answers, placing his bottle on the floor. “Yo! Shigaraki! Bring me another water!” Dabi shouts, his hand cupping the side of his mouth.

Your eyes widen and you wave your hands, shushing him. “You have to be quiet!” You whisper yell, as if you all hadn't talked in your regular voices before. “I have neighbors! What if they hear you?”

He gives you a wide grin and shakes his head. “It’s a name. I’m sure there are more people with his last name-” he jerks his head at Tomura who walks back to the living room, tossing the water beside Dabi. “Anyways, just tell them you’re in some play or whatever-” he twists the cap off and before taking a sip, he looks at you with a lazy smile- “people are a lot more willing to believe something like that.”

Tomura sits beside you, his legs spread, his knee knocking against yours, and you lean close to him, frowning at Dabi. “It’s still risky,” you say with a pout, gripping the end of your shirt.

“Hey!” Toga says, standing up, her drink empty as she tosses it at Dabi. She ignores his yelp and pointed glare. “If you’re dating Tomura-” she points her fingers between the two of you- “then that means that we’re friends!” She looks at you with a wide grin and you nod. It would feel rather rude if you denied the poor girl of friendship- villain or not, confrontation and denying is something that is not your strongest trait. “Really? Does that mean I get to use your bath?”

Your eyes widen, in both worry of that being her first request and fear of that being her first request. “Yeah, of course. Do you want me to-”

“No, it’s okay,” she smiles and walks away from the living room. “It’s in an apartment, I think I can find it easily enough. Anyways, I’ll probably snoop around, so see you in a bit!” She says, before moving away to go and open doors.

It’s silent for a beat before Spinner pops up. “Do you have wi-fi?” You nod. “Mind if I have the password?”

“Yeah, sure, no problem.” You grab your phone and scroll through your notes app, finding the name of the router and password, and you pass it to him, watching as he pulls out his phone to copy the numbers. Magne leans beside him, pulling out her phone and connecting to the wi-fi, her finger tapping against the screen to make sure it doesn’t dim.

“I’m going to turn on the television!” Twice comments, standing up to grab the remote. When he sits back down, he moves to sit beside Dabi.

“Don’t put anything dumb,” Dabi comments, making himself comfortabel on the couch, his hands going to grab at a throw pillow and brining it to his lap. “And nothing too loud, I’m starting to get a headache.”

“I have some pain medication.” You turn your attention to Dabi. “Do you want me to go get you some?” He spares you a glance, and when he returns his attention to the television that is flipping from channel to channel, he nods.

“I’ll go get it, dear. Where is it?” Mr. Compress says, standing up from the couch.

“Oh okay,” you chirp, leaning back towards Tomura. “It’s in the kitchen. The first drawer by the fridge.”

You turn to Tomura, grabbing his hand in yours. “I didn’t expect to meet them so soon,” you say in a whisper, turning yourself until you’re facing him. “I have to admit, I was really scared.”

He knocks his head lightly against yours and squeezes your hand. “I wish they hadn’t found out where you live, but I guess that can’t be helped now.” He glances at you and returns his attention to the bottle in hand. “Do you know how they found you?” You shake your head and he sighs. “I’ll be here next time.”

While you hadn’t realized just how alarming it is they found you, you can’t help but latch onto the last statement of his. Your head tilts and you look at him with knitted brows. “Next time?”

“Next time they’re here,” he clarifies. “I’ll make sure I come before them.” You nod slowly and he takes another sip of his drink. With your free hand you grab the drink, your hand curving around his and he watches as you pull the drink toward you, taking a sip from it. The apple in his throat bobs and he stares at the television that plays the news before changing to some sci-fi movie. “Whenever you want us to leave, you just say the word, okay?”

You watch the alien hatch from its egg, the membrane sticking to its skin as it opens its mouth. The whole scenario feels surreal. The group of people who threatened you now sit at your home, drinking your drinks, using your bath, taking your pills, and watching your television. And here you are, holding hands with the ringleader, acting as if you two are in a happy relationship that was mutual and not one that was forced upon you. You turn to him and with worry written over your face, he frowns. “Can we talk about something sometime soon?” Your heart falls when you see his face consumed with fear, his eyes scanning over your face, looking for a hint of what you want to talk about. You smile and pull your hand away from him, letting it rest over his thigh. “It’s nothing bad, I promise. Just a-” you struggle to find the proper words that doesn't make this relationship sound like some bad experiment- “an overlook of the relationship. Nothing bad, I promise.” With a smile at the end of your words, he remains silent, nodding his head and turning to watch the television.

taglist:

@chai-tea-bagels @tirzamisu @ikatella

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purrincess-chat · 4 years ago

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So, I've had some time to sit with Gang of Secrets, and I know everyone in the fandom probably has their feelings about Alya finding out first, especially two episodes after she just told Luka she can't tell him, but let me tell you why Alya is the most obvious and best choice.

First of all, it's a commonly used trope in shows with secret identities that the hero's best friend finds out their identity first. Lots of other shows, comics, and books have done it, if fact early concepts for ML had Alya knowing from the beginning, so it's not really surprising that Marinette confided in her first. Alya was the first hero that Marinette picked, she is her best friend, she is arguably the person Marinette trusts most (save Chat Noir who we will talk about later). Marinette telling Alya makes sense whether you like it or not because of the role that Alya plays in the grand scheme of the story.

All stories utilize tropes. They're not a bad thing. Some of them are overdone, sure, but it's more about how you use them that matters. Most stories follow a certain formula so viewers/readers know what to expect, and yes, even stories with big twists follow the same structure. Telling the best friend from a storytelling perspective makes sense. Telling the alternate love interest who isn't crucial to the story doesn't.

Take off your shipping goggles for a second and look at things from a storytelling perspective. Remove everyone's names and forget how you feel about them, and just look at the character roles. You have a protagonist, a main love interest, a best friend, and a temporary side love interest. Who does the protagonist trust most in this circle in a normal story? Who learns the secret first? Writing is a balancing act. You have to choose which characters to develop wisely, and I'm not going to argue that ML is a golden standard of storytelling and writing. It's not. But telling a secondary love interest in this case would add a more important role to a character who really wasn't designed for that. That doesn't mean they can't still develop that character in other ways, but for a plot point of this caliber, the best friend takes priority over the love interests. Both of them. Because while the love interest can be a friend, a confidant, a shoulder to lean on, their primary function to the protagonist is romance. Meanwhile, a best friend can be all of those things and more. The best friend can be whatever the protagonist needs in the moment.

Now, let's look more closely at this specific situation. Marinette was spiralling. She couldn't keep up with both of her lives, and the stress was literally eating her alive. She just decided that she can't be in love with either of the boys she likes because she would always be keeping a secret from them. She was heartbroken, stressed, and exhausted. Yes, Chat Noir attempted to be there for her and support her as best he could, but the problem here is the role Chat Noir is playing. He is for lack of better terms, the superhero sidekick, but also still the love interest. (Even if LB doesn't know it) And in this case too, she knows Chat Noir is in love with her, and for a girl who has recently decided that love is off the table, you can see why she didn't want to confide in him. Would he have understood her stress if she told him? Sure. But revealing their identities to each other now would have been detrimental to Marinette, and here is why:

Marinette gave up on love for the time being. We, the audience, know that Chat Noir is Adrien, the boy she loves. For her to say, I can't be in love right now, only to turn around and find out that the person she was confiding in and leaning on for support was, in fact, her love interest, it would have made her spiral even worse. No where would have been safe for her. And you can argue what a good bean Adrien is, and whatever, that's not the point here.

Marinette takes her job as Ladybug very seriously. The reason she is so stressed is because now with the added responsibility of being the guardian, she risks losing not only her Miraculous, but also the entire Miracle Box. That's a lot of power in the wrong hands, and she knows that quite well. This caused her to lean on the side of hypervigilance. She was always transformed and looking for trouble because she was paranoid that she was going to miss something and fail again. With so much changing on the superhero side of her life, she needed an anchor back to her civilian life. So that's where Alya comes in.

Alya provides her with a sense of normalcy, a reminder that she has a life outside of the mask. She grounds her to her civilian life and provides her with support she needs to juggle her superhero life. (And yes, she still does this even if you hate her) On the opposite end of that spectrum, Chat Noir grounds her to her superhero life, and so much had changed for her on the superhero side of things with the introduction of her guardian duties that revealing her identity to Chat would have just been one more change to that part of her life with nothing to fall back on. By keeping their identities in place and giving her an anchor in her regular life, Marinette can find better balance between the two. Her secrets with Chat Noir are a constant, or a "normal" that she can use to ground herself. She is used to them, she expects them, it's part of her schema for her superhero life. She shows up, her goofy partner cracks some jokes, they beat up the bad guy, they go home. Chat Noir is playing his role perfectly in this sense. He offered to be there for her, but he wasn't who she needed at the time. The scale had tipped too far in her super life, so she needed something to tip it back toward her civilian life. So, we got Alya. Which makes logical sense given her role in the story. It's the role she was born to play. Whether you like it or not.

I know all the shippers are thirsty for content, trust me, I am adrinette trash, and I want the children to kiss each other on the face just as much as the next shipper. But I fundamentally understand why that can't happen right now in canon. And that's why fanfiction exists. I can make them kiss whenever I want. I can make them reveal whenever I want. I can write as many reveals as I want. Canon can only do it once, and idk about you guys, but I'd like their eventual reveal to be for a better reason than "I'm spiralling out of control please help." I'd also prefer for it not to be in a random ass episode in the middle of the season. I want it to have its moment. I want it to slap me and take my wallet, so I can tell it thank you. I want the reveal to be that bitch. Doing it here would have been cheap, and it would have cheapened the rest of the season for me. Now, if they wanna do it in the s4 finale when shit is getting lit? Sign me up. But right now, it wasn't the right call. And that's fine.

#thoughts from my brain #cat speaks #cat spoils

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rikalovesrice · 3 years ago

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Trollhunters : Rise of The Titans [Rika’s Version!]

AIGHT SO THIS IS WHAT SHOULD’VE FREAKIN’ HAPPENED --

The movie starts a year after Wizards. We see Douxie, Archie, and Nari all settled in Metro City. Douxie managed to get a dinky little apartment and works two jobs. He comes home after a long day to Nari and Archie.

Maybe Nari’s running around chasing after Archie. Maybe the two of them are curled up on the couch and snoozing. Douxie smiles softly, petting Archie’s head and gently brushes Nari’s hair out of her face. Maybe Nari was singing to one of her plants and just beams when Douxie walks through the door. Just Magical Siblings and Their Therapy Cat fluff.

But that night, Douxie wakes up. Something feels very, very wrong. Nari feels it, too.

Cut to the door to their apartment being busted right through, flames quickly consuming the threshold. To Douxie’s horror, it’s the Arcane Order and he immediately goes on the offensive. This is the first display in the movie of Douxie’s strength as a Master Wizard, his proficiency and skill with his magic as he holds his own against Bellroc and Skrael as he did in Wizards. He tells Archie to take Nari and run but neither of them want to leave him behind. Archie instead fights beside Douxie, urging for Nari to escape while she can. Nari’s reluctant because Douxie and Archie have become so precious to her.

When it looks like they’re about to be done in, Archie wills himself to transform into a huge dragon, taking Douxie and Nari into his claws and flying out of there, busting straight out of the apartment. But not before giving Bellroc and Skrael a thrashing with his tail. They manage to give the Order the slip. For now.

Archie quickly loses steam from holding such a form and crashes on the outskirts of the city, transforming back into a cat. Douxie cradles him in his arms. Nari tends to their wounds with her magic, looking forlorn.

Douxie frantically dials a number on his phone.

“Claire? Claire it’s me...” A column of fire erupts in the distance. A shot of Douxie, Archie, and Nari huddled close. “They found us.”

Trollhunters : Rise of the Titans Title Screen

The scene fades in on the new and improved Camelot, where the Lakes are staying. We see Jim spending time with his mother and Walter and it’s lovely. We see a hint of Jim’s trauma when he’s cooking and looks at his reflection in a spatula. He flinches away. He doesn’t want to look at himself. Barbara comforts him, a tender heartfelt moment between them.

Claire then emerges from a shadow portal with grim news : The Arcane Order have found Douxie and Nari.

Jim gathers his friends. Claire shadow portals them all to Douxie, who’s found shelter in a hut Nari made from tree roots. Douxie’s cast a barrier to hide their presence, though it won’t last long.

It’s a really sweet and awesome reunion. Douxie gives Claire and Steve big hugs. Nari bounds up to Toby and holds his hand. Jim, Krel, and Douxie have a “good to see you again, bro” moment between them. Aaarrgh licks his lips at the sight of Archie.

It’s here that Douxie gives the deets on what’s happened. As they begin to figure out a way to keep Nari safe and away from the Order, Nari suddenly says, “No.”

After almost losing Douxie and Archie, her new family, Nari decides enough is enough. She wants to face her corrupted siblings head-on. To not only protect the world, but her newfound friends.

Douxie understandably protests. But Nari, gentle but resolute, tells him she’s made up her mind. No more running.

And so, Douxie acquiesces.

Cue the sequence/fight scene on the train!

Nari realizes what Douxie’s doing when it’s too late. They switch bodies and Douxie’s taken away by the Order.

“Douxie, I’m so sorry...I couldn’t save her,” Claire laments.

Nari, in Douxie’s body, “N-no...No, I am fine. But Douxie...Douxie!”

Everyone’s like, “Oh no” but then oof, they all get arrested.

The police department scene! With Krel and the Blanks busting everyone out.

Now, we find ourselves back on Camelot where Jim’s being attended to by Walter and Barbara after waking up from a nightmare. Bellroc’s words torment him : “Without your Amulet, you are nothing but a frightened! Little!! BOY!!!”

Walter suggests Jim should lay low, let his friends handle things. Jim reaches a real low point here. Claire provides some comfort. Hand in hand, they make their way to the Round Table, where everyone’s licking their wounds.

Blinky explains to them that the Order wants to awaken the Titans and need all three members of the Order to do so. While everyone’s relieved that Nari’s safe, Douxie’s now in the Order’s clutches and they want to figure out a way to save him.

Nari, sad and grim, says that Douxie’s spell will eventually wear off.

“He is, as humans say, buying us time...”

Cut to Douxie (in Nari’s body) with the Order. Douxie doesn’t make a sound, not wanting to give anything away. They try the ritual and when it fails, Bellroc and Skrael quickly suspect foul play. They realize that Nari isn’t Nari and proceed to forcefully, painfully, undo Douxie’s spell.

Douxie wakes up, back in his own body. He’s swarmed by his friends, all overcome with relief that he’s alright, but it’s short-lived. The Order has Nari.

Douxie manages to recall where the Order took him. Before they head out, a downtrodden Jim says he should stay behind, going back to the bed chamber. Claire goes to talk to him, but Douxie stops her.

“Let’s give him some space,” Douxie says gently, though he looks just as concerned for Jim. “In the meantime,” he summons his staff, “we’ll hunt the Order down, put a stop to their schemes, and bring Nari home.”

Everyone heads to the warehouse-train track place (I forgot what it was called rip). Just then, Aja comes flying in, having been contacted by Krel. The Tarron siblings have a sweet, wholesome, long-awaited reunion. Also Staja and Creepslayerz reunited!

Aja cautions Steve about the whole seventh kiss-pregnancy thing and he quickly decides that, yeah no, he’s not quite ready for that. His Alien Queen Muffin (or whatever the heck he called her) is back and that’s all that matters to him. Also wtf Eli’s hot and taller than him now.

There’s a cute moment of Douxie and Aja really meeting for the first time. Aja recognizes him.

“Oh! You were the hand-reading waiter boy!”

Upon hearing she’s a Queen, Douxie’s Medieval chivalry kicks in and he bows at the waist.

“The name’s Hisirdoux, Your Majesty.” After Aja butchers his name, he says “Douxie” will do just fine.

Nomura abruptly reminds them they don’t have time for pleasantries. They get to it. Douxie figures out the sigil and the illusion fades, revealing the Order performing their ritual with a brainwashed Nari. They’re unable to stop it and the Order members teleport away to join with their respective Titans. We see each of the Titans rising.

The Arcadia Gang regroups back on Camelot to form a plan. Jim, discouraged and deeply troubled, is leaning over a rail, head in his hands. Douxie comes up beside him, silent.

Jim eventually asks how things went. When Douxie tells him they failed and the Titans have risen, Jim feels even more powerless and guilt-ridden.

“I’m sorry...I’m sorry, I couldn’t...I can’t do anything. Without the Amulet I’m not the Trollhunter anymore and I’m just...useless--”

Douxie cuts him off, putting a hand on Jim’s shoulder.

“Jim. That’s not true. Do you remember what I told you? That our strength doesn’t come from special trinkets. Our strength...” Douxie finally gets Jim to look at him, “comes from our friends. From each other. All of us together. That includes you.”

“But...without my Amulet how can I do anything--”

Douxie smiles gently. “By being true to yourself, Jim. As we, your friends, are true to you.”

Just then, Claire joins them and asks if Jim’s okay. Jim smiles as Douxie ruffles his hair.

“I will be. Thanks.”

Jim, Claire, and Douxie find everyone arguing at the Round Table. Aja is wanting to evacuate everyone off of Earth, to which Blinky protests. Everyone just keeps going back and forth until Jim yells for them to stop.

Time to divide and conquer, cutting back and forth between each battle with the Titans.

Aja, Krel, Steve, and Eli tackle the Fire Titan.

Blinky, Toby, and Nomura handle the Ice Titan, with Walter and Barbara steering Camelot.

Jim, Claire, Douxie, and Aaarrgh go for the Earth Titan. Douxie’s hoping to get through to Nari and break her free from the Order’s control.

Aja and Krel fight the Fire Titan side by side on their hoverboard. Steve and Eli help civilians off the bridge and keep them safe.

Varvatos Vex in his giant robo mech incoming, along with a handful of Akiridion warships.

The Fire Titan proves to be too powerful and defeats Varvatos’ robot, melting down the Akiridion troops in the process. Aja and Krel are knocked down from their hoverboard. They and Varvatos retreat as the Fire Titan continues to burn a path towards its destination.

Toby and Nomura attempt to zipline their way to the Ice Titan to take down Skrael with Akiridion bombs. When the rope fails, Walter extends his wings to save them, but his wings quickly freeze.

Nomura grabs the bombs and sacrifices herself, bidding a heartwrenching farewell to Toby and her longtime friend, thanking them both. She asks Toby to tell Jim she said goodbye. Ever agile, Nomura scales the Ice Titan and detonates the bombs.

But to everyone’s horror, the Ice Titan only puts itself back together. Walter sinks to his knees. Toby throws down his helmet. Their friend sacrificed herself for nothing.

Aaarrgh is charging after the Earth Titan, Douxie, Jim, and Claire hanging onto his back. Claire shadow portals the three of them onto the Titan’s back. Douxie begins to plead with Nari, even as she constricts him with vines.

Douxie manages to grab her hand. He begins to break the mind-control with his magic, still calling out to Nari as he’s losing the ability to breathe.

Douxie’s voice reaches her and she breaks free. Nari frantically asks where she is, if she hurt him or his friends. Douxie, overcome with relief, just embraces her.

“You’re here with us, Nari...You’re here with us.”

Nari assures them they have a Titan on their side now. They receive communication from the Tarrons, who warn them that the Ice Titan is getting close to Arcadia.

No time to wonder why Skrael’s headed there. Claire makes a massive shadow portal to Arcadia (the field trip scene!), taking Nari’s Titan with them. Nari tries to reason with Skrael, but he’s having none of it.

NARI VS SKRAEL COMMENCE!

The Tarrons and Creepslayerz arrive on scene. Douxie boards Aja’s hoverboard and together they fire lazers and magic at the Ice Titan. Varvatos dashes and slashes his way up the Titan. Claire, Jim, Krel, Steve, and Eli work to rescue the school bus from getting crushed.

Well, it does get crushed but thankfully everyone made it off. Then, Archie comes flying in with his father, Charlemagne. Charlie flies all the students and Coach to safety. Archie joins Douxie in the air, blasting Skrael with fire.

“C’mon and face the music, Skrael!!!” Douxie summons Spellcaster and starts shredding.

Enraged, Skrael releases a devastating burst of magic that knocks Douxie, Aja, and Varvatos away. Nari seizes the opportunity to impale Skrael’s Titan, but not before Nari’s fatally wounded by him in return. Both Titans collapse.

Douxie runs to Nari, desperately calling her name. She’s on the ground, dying. Everyone gathers around, devastated. Douxie holds Nari in his arms. Archie nuzzles Nari’s arm, tears forming in his eyes. Douxie’s already crying.

“No..No, no, Nari, please...” Douxie holds her hand. “Nari, don’t go, please...!”

“It is okay, Douxie...Do not be sad...”

“I’m sorry...I’m sorry, I said I would protect you...” Douxie leans down, almost touching his forehead to hers (it’s Harry and Dobby y’all). His tears fall onto her face. “I said I would protect you...!”

“You did something greater, Douxie...” Nari squeezes his hand. Tears of her own roll down her cheeks. “You gave me a home. And many, many friends....” Douxie sobs harder, holding her close. “You saved me, Douxie...” She’s beginning to fade. She smiles, her eyes closing. “Thank you...Thank...”

Nari fades, wisps of magic and flower petals slipping through Douxie’s fingers. Douxie wails, Archie pressing close. Jim and Claire lay their hands on his shoulders. Claire hugs him.

Krel is then alerted that the Fire Titan is also on the move towards Arcadia.

Everyone reconvenes on Camelot. They all mourn the deaths of Nomura and Nari.

They learn that Bellroc is headed towards Arcadia, the center of the universe, because that’s where the last Heartstone is. If at least one Titan reaches the Heartstone, the world will be wiped clean.

Before they head out, Douxie and the Tarrons present Jim with a brand new Amulet, forged from magic and Akiridion technology. That, and the stone in which Excaliber lodged itself. Douxie encourages Jim to try once more.

Jim steps up on the stone, gazing fondly at his friends around him. They all place their hands on the stone in support. Jim pulls Excaliber from the stone. Everyone cheers for him.

Douxie’s seen texting someone.

FINAL SHOWDOWN IN ARCADIA

Bellroc is seen making their way towards the Heartstone. But what stands between them and the prize is the Guardians of Arcadia.

Charlemagne, Archie, and Walter soar above. Blinky and Aaarrgh lead an army of trolls. More Akiridion fleets arrive, Aja and Krel at the helm. Varvatos has a brand new robo, too.

Bellroc sneers at their defiance and summons an army of their own : hundreds of big rocky lava monsters.

BATTLE OF THE MOST EPIC OF PROPORTIONS IS A GO.

Trolls are punching, Akiridions are blasting, magicians are casting.

JIM SUITS UP WITH HIS NEW ARMOR AND EXCALIBER AND IS LIKE DON’T THINK BECOMIN’ FOR YA BELLROC FOR THE GOOD OF AAAAAAAALL

Douxie conjures up a spell to send that boy flying onto that Fire Titan.

Toby and Aaarrgh slam and hammer their way through fiery goons. Claire and Aja team up to take down the opposition, noting they should get lunch together sometime. Charlemagne tears through the enemies with his claws and wings. Krel and the Creepslayerz flail about and kick tail anyway.

Our heroes all cover one another and play off of each other’s strengths and it’s beautiful.

When Douxie’s about to get smothered by lava fists, there’s a flash of lightening and the monsters vaporize.

Douxie turns to see Zoe with a brigade of hedge wizards. Douxie’s immediately bowled over, smitten.

“About time you showed up...,” Douxie says, in a daze cause wow Zoe’s so pretty.

“Oh, you’ve got a lot of nerve --” Explosions. More lava monsters. Zoe sighs and pats Douxie’s cheek. “Ugh, focus, you big sap!”

The pair are unstoppable together, mowing down the lava monsters in powerful bursts of blue and pink.

DOUXIE’S EYES GO BLUE AND ZOE’S EYES GO PINK EPIC AVATAR STATE RINGS OF MAGIC AS THEY DECIMATE THEIR FOES WITH ROCK MUSIC BLARING YESSSS

And well, Douxie can’t help himself and gives Zoe a good long smooch after they’ve destroyed half of Bellroc’s army.

Toby in the distance : HOW LONG HAS THAT BEEN A THING?????

Archie just groans.

And meanwhile, Jim’s finally facing off with Bellroc. After having one of the most badass fights in the franchise, Jim comes out on top, skewering Bellroc in the stomach with Excaliber.

AND BOOM THEY DID IT GUYS EARTH IS SAVED.

....But not without great cost.

Toby’s been mortally wounded, crushed by the falling pieces of the Fire Titan. There’s the tearful, heartbreaking moment Jim has to say goodbye to his best friend, the one who was there with him through it all.

“We did it, Jimbo...We did it...”

Jim holds Toby in his arms, sobbing uncontrollably. Claire holds Jim and weeps beside him. Aaarrgh is in hysterics but is calmed to pained whimpers by Blinky. The Arcadia Gang grieves, feeling the painful weight of losing the friends they held so dear....Nomura, Nari, and now Toby.

Time Skip/Montage

Douxie found a proper apartment in Arcadia. He keeps a potted plant with those distinct pink flowers, the flowers Nari loved, on his windowsill. Smiles softly at them every time.

Scenes of Mary with Darci as she mourns. Steve and Eli hanging out. Douxie and Krel jamming, Krel creating beats and Douxie riffing on his guitar. Aja and Claire going on that lunch date. Archie taking a nap on top of Aaarrgh. Walter playing classical music.

It’s taken a while, but Jim’s starting to feel a little bit better. Douxie, Krel, Steve, and Eli came over for some bro time. Seeing the pain in his eyes, Douxie gives Jim a hug.

The final scene is a picnic at everyone’s favorite spot in Arcadia with a single bench and an awesome view of the town.

Aja and Steve are cuddling. Krel and Eli play with a frisbee. Blinky, Aaarrgh, and Varvatos laugh around a table. Douxie and Zoe, holding hands, are having a lively chat with Claire. Jim serves up a huge plate of enchiladas.

Walter and Barbara announce their engagement. Everyone celebrates.

EMOTIONAL SPEECH VOICEOVER TIME.

Aja, Varvatos, and Eli depart back to Akiridion-5. Steve honks into a tissue. Krel pats him on the back as he waves to his sister.

Barbara kisses Jim on the forehead before going home with Walter.

Zoe kisses Douxie on the cheek and heads off.

Steve and Krel are the next to go.

Douxie, Archie around his shoulders, pulls both Jim and Claire into a hug before leaving.

Blinky gives Jim a hug. Aaarrgh nuzzle him, looking sad.

Jim and Claire hold hands and sit on the bench, gazing out at the town.

EMOTIONAL SPEECH VOICEOVER ENDS T_T

The End.

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shurisneakers · 4 years ago

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shut in [10]

Summary: When your high profile mission goes terribly wrong, you’re forced to hide in a safehouse with a man you’ve never met before. With seemingly nowhere else to go, you’re forced to work together to figure out who is trying to have you assassinated before it’s too late. (Sam Wilson x Reader, Hitman AU)

Warnings: cursing, anxiety, ptsd, shooting, abuse

Word count: 2.8k

A/N: double digit chapter!!! like 3 parts to go everyoneeee woo!!

i also appreciate feedback so if you would like to, please consider dropping me an ask or comment ly guys!!

here’s my ko-fi if you’d like to support my writing <333

Previous Part || Shut In Masterlist

The nostalgia was strong.

The last time you and Sam were sitting like this, you were deciding on what to make of the bread supply that was now dwindling. The soup had ran out maybe a day or two ago and you were left with just bread, peanut butter and jelly.

You two had to devise an escape plan. You’d been there long enough and now with Sam making his first public appearance as Mob’s Most Wanted, even if it was for a good cause, there was no doubt that people would be after you.

“What if we go back to Ransone and let the rest sort itself out along the way?”

You made a note of it on the paper but you weren’t very convinced with the idea, not with the realisations you had made along the way.

“Do we know any other hideouts?” you asked instead, tapping the pencil against the paper.

“None that you don’t already know.” He chewed on his lip thoughtfully. “What are your thoughts on caves? Think we can make a bed outta some leaves?”

You wrote down ‘Sam’s cave idea’, just to humour him. Stupid, but more plausible than other options.

“If we make a run for it, what are the chances we’ll survive?”

“With law enforcement, civilians and gang members looking for us, I’d give us about-” you said candidly, “-two months. Three max.”

It wasn’t like you had no experience running from the state, but it was never on this scale.

“We’d have years if it was only law enforcement, but we had to go get the entire fuckin’ mafia involved,” he huffed in annoyance.

An idea occurred to you that made you pause, but you hated it.

“What if we split up?” you suggested halfheartedly. “It’ll take them more time to find the both of us, if they’re looking for us together.”

When he didn’t reply, you looked up at him from the sheet in front of you.

“We’re not splitting up,” he began steadily, just as you knew he would. “The same people who are after you are after me. We need to stick together.”

“I know. I’m not saying we can’t meet again after that, I’m saying that maybe it’ll be easier for us to hide.”

He couldn’t deny that it wasn't the worst idea, but something didn’t sit right with him. He didn’t want to do it.

“Okay, then how do we find each other after that? When? I don’t have your email; fuck that, I don’t even have your number.”

“We’ll schedule it, I guess,” you murmur, trying to work out the logistics. “Whoever gets there late has to buy ice cream. And I’m particular about the flavour I like.”

You tried to lighten up the mood but he wasn’t having it, as much as he appreciated it.

“I don’t care if it’s more difficult,” he said slowly. “But I’d like us to stick together. Not until we’re out of this mess. Then if you want to never see my face again, which you shouldn’t because it’s beautiful, we’ll go our different ways.”

He was adamant about it, and you knew he’d argue and poke holes into the plan until it didn’t make sense anymore. You weren’t going to argue.

“Okay,” you accepted. “We stick together.”

A smile spread across his face which equated to one of triumph. “You got any other ideas?”

“We stay right here and fight off whoever comes.”

It was dumb. This place wasn’t yours, and staying here would be a death wish. That didn’t stop you from saying it since neither of you were holding back on implausible ideas.

“This is our house now,” Sam added with determination, playing along.

“Damn right,” you affirmed, cracking a smile at him.

Bringing your attention back, you stared at the list. There is one option you wanted to explore but you weren’t sure if you could because you didn’t have the resources. But he may.

“You got any friends whose help we could use?” you asked cautiously, unsure of how this would play out.

He continued chewing on his lip for a second like he was analysing all options, before nodding.

“I got a friend. Well, my only friend,” he corrects himself. “His name’s Riley.”

“He got a place we can stay, this Riley?”

“He does. But I don’t want to involve him. He’s-” he paused, trying to find the right words to frame what he’s thinking “-he’s been through a lot.”

“We’ll leave him alone then,” you assured, realising that it must be a touchy topic for him.

Sam didn’t move on, though.

“I’m all ears if you want to talk,” you offered.

He pressed his lips together, giving you a tight smile. He looked like he wanted to say more but was holding back. You reciprocated, hoping it would give him some reassurance, noting how he exhaled softly.

“When I joined the cartel, I didn’t really have anyone to talk to since everyone was much older than I was. Riley was the first friend I made. He was a mouthy li’l one.” Sam smiled wistfully and you found yourself smiling with him. “He talked so much shit and he had the spunk to back it up but he never really got that far because no one wanted to test their luck with him.”

“We spent whatever free time we had together. He didn’t have a family so he and I-” he trailed off but you knew what he was getting at. “Ransone found out. Didn’t like anyone in his stupid squad becoming all buddies because if we turned against him, he knew he’d lose.”

Shared experience. You didn’t have any friends in the organization either; they were always separated from you willingly or by force. You wondered if that’s why you had taken such a liking towards Sam, knowing fully well that it was the first time in years you were able to be friends with someone without having to worry.

“He started pittin’ us against one another. Combat training, preferential treatment, just plain out sabotage. Riley’s the reason my back’s all kinds of fucked up.” He gave a short laugh. “Tried everything he could to make sure we’d stay away or even kill each other if it came to that.”

“But you didn’t.”

“But we didn’t,” he confirmed. “Ransone fuckin’ hated it, so one day, he decided that he’s going to finish it once and for all. Sent us on a fake mission so that we’d be alone together, then told us that only one of us could come back. One of us had to die or else both of us would. Some sick fuckin’ form of entertainment.”

It was exactly something that Ransone would do. Dramatic, vile and utterly despicable, just for his own joy,

Your eyebrows knit together when his eyes glazed over.

“Riley, he- he didn’t even let me have at the gun. Just straight up chose for the both of us that he was going to be the one who died. He was so tired, of everythin’.” The muscles in your jaw tightened at where this was going. “He didn’t do it though. We figured out another way.”

You didn’t realise how tensed you were until you forced yourself to relax.

“Faked his death.” He shrugged. “It was the only way. Let Ransone believe he bled out and that I buried him behind the warehouse he sent us to. Shot him in the leg to make it look convincing. He’s still got a limp.”

“He made a run for it. Found himself a place in New Orleans, changed his identity, basically made turned into a whole new person. Ransone bought it for a while because I’d make it a point to visit the grave, leave some flowers and shit. Told him that if he messed with it that I’d put a bullet in his head and I was angry enough for him to see that I wasn’t kidding. I knew he’d figure it out eventually but I was hoping I’d get rid of him by then.”

“He lived in New Orleans for years. Never had a problem until recently.”

Sam paused for a second, but it gave you the time to pull up an old conversation you had with him.

“He’s the one Ransone threatened you with,” you connected the dots. “He’s the one he found.”

“Said he’d kill him if I didn’t take out Pierce for him,” his words were bitter, confirming what you said. “Sent me a picture of him in front of his house to prove it.”

“Fuckin’ hell,” you breathed, leaning back. Sam’s situation was more dangerous than you initially thought. Having Riley in the picture just made it more difficult to help Sam get out of the organization, especially since he was now leverage material.

“You asked me once what the scariest thing I had done was.” You didn’t get immediately what he was talking about until you remember the questions you had asked to get to know him better. “It was that. Getting him out of this life and trying not to get caught in the process.”

You didn’t know what to say.

“He’s the only family I got left.” The way his voice dropped made him sound so tired. “He’s already on their radar. If they find out I’m staying with him or that he’s helping in any way, they’ll kill him.”

You didn’t say anything, not like you had anything constructive to offer at that moment.

“That got dark real quick,” he remarked, the corners of his lips quirking upward.

Clearly he didn’t have anyone to talk to about this. To explain the entire thing from the beginning must have drained him completely.

“I’m sorry that you had to go through that,” you said quietly.

He paused for a second, looking like he was thinking to himself.

“Me too.”

______

The sky’s beautiful, you decide.

You could stare at the clouds for hours.

Which is what the both of you have been doing.

“If you fucking say it’s anything other than a dog, I’ll push you off the roof myself.”

“It’s clearly a penguin, Samuel.”

“I hate you.”

The cement was cool against your skin even though there was a blanket serving as a mediator between you and it. The sun nipped at your skin and your back was aching from staying in the same place for a prolonged period.

Sam tended to think better when he was outside, unconstrained by harsh white walls and artificial light. So you grabbed a spare blanket, a bottle of water and the ladder to haul the both of you to the roof. It was filthy, as you expected but you managed to tidy a part of it to the best of your ability before laying the blanket down.

“I know why you brought me up here, Y/N,” he piped up.

You just knew that when you needed some space, he often implored you to go outside. You figured the best way to help him was to do the same, not knowing what else you could have to give.

“Just wanted to let you know that I appreciate it,” he added.

Okay good. It helped.

“That’s a tree.” You pointed upwards, avoiding his gaze.

“You get three more seconds to change that answer to a table.”

“That looks nothing like a table. You’re delusional.”

He laughed, not offering a counter argument.

The outside did him good. He was calmer than when you first came here a few hours ago. He didn’t let his spite towards Ransone show very often, especially at this volume. Talking about Riley only reaffirmed how much he despised the man.

“We need to get out of here eventually, you know?” you mused.

You don’t want to. You don’t want to admit that saying it out loud made it worse.

“We do,” he sounded sure and you wondered if he ever felt bad about it too, “but we need a proper plan.”

The clouds shifted. It looked like a kid on a bike; not that you’d ever tell him. He would never agree.

“We need help,” you stated.

“We can’t.” You knew he’d say that.

“You know we do, Sam.”

“There’s no one out there we can trust.”

You liked that he used ‘we’. The only other times you had been referred to as ‘we’ had been for things so sinister, so violent.

His elbow was touching yours lightly. You wanted to move closer, press against him.

“There’s one person who might be able to.”

He turned to look at you questioningly. You did the same.

You waited till he figured it out on his own. His face shifted the minute it clicked in his head.

“No way.” He turned away, almost laughing out of bewilderment.

“It’s our only option.”

“Then we’ll find another one,” he began to sound more insistent, realising you were being serious. It was a crazy idea, you’d give him that, but it’s the only one you had that had a sure shot of working.

“We’ve tried. You’ve tried. There’s only one way,” you knew that getting annoyed wouldn’t get through to him and you also understood his hesitations. “He’ll help.”

“We don’t know that. It’s too fuckin’ dangerous.” He couldn’t afford that; not this late in the game.

“I know it. Lis- Sam. Look at me,” you commanded gently, and he obeyed reluctantly. “I understand that this is absolutely batshit wild, but I promised I’d help you. This is the only way I can think of. But I need you to trust me.”

He looked unsettled.

He didn’t have anything to go on. Only your word and his faith in you. He could say no and he knew you’d spend countless hours pouring over multiple options just to find another way. He could say no and you’d take it in stride and he wouldn’t have to worry about it. It wasn’t about trusting you, it was about not trusting the others.

But he could also say yes and let you take control, trust your instincts. You had never let him down before and he knew you wouldn’t now. He could say yes and help you work on one solid plan that had equal chances of failing as it did being a success, but it was something that you could be sure of.

“I’ll tell you this though, Sam. You always have a choice.”

He felt your fingers trace at his face patiently. He scooted closer, letting your bodies press gently against each other.

“Okay,” he whispered. “I trust you.”

He didn’t know if he made the right choice or not, but the smile that appeared on your face made him think that maybe he did.

God, he was done for.

___

“You ready?” you asked him.

“No, but what the hell; let’s do it.”

You let it ring right to the very end.

“Hello.” It seemed gratuitous at this point because you knew the conversation wouldn’t proceed with that.

“Code?”

“1993.”

“Y/N. Hello,” his voice came back loud and clear.

“Hey.” You snuck a glance at Sam. He was completely stiff.

“How are you?”

“I’ve been… good,” you admitted.

“Oh?” he sounded amused. “That’s a change.”

“Yeah.” You shifted on your feet awkwardly. “Listen, I need help.”

“Help with?”

“We need to get out of here. We can’t do it without you. I mean we can, but it’d be better if you lent a hand.”

“When you say ‘we’, you’re referring to…”

“Me.” Sam stepped forward towards the phone. You shifted it so it was between you.

“Oh, hello,” he sounded surprised, and he had good reason to be. “You know about-”

“Yeah, I do.”

“Y/N, you trust him?”

“Yeah,” you looked up at Sam, “I do.”

“Alright. If shit goes wrong, you’re both fucked. I’m not taking any responsibility.”

“We get that,” you sighed. “Can you help or not?”

There was a momentary silence on the other end as he thought.

“Tell me what you had in mind.”

“We got a hit.”

They turned away from their conversation with the person walking beside them at the interruption.

“This better be important.” They gestured to their companion who looked annoyed at being interrupted. He was too dangerous to have on anyone’s bad side but the agent didn’t care. This was crucial.

“Someone saw him. Wilson.” He was breathless from the flight of stairs he had run to come upstairs.

“Where?” They could hardly believe their ears, restraining to contain the excitement that was threatening to rise.

“A town, miles away from Pierce’s place. Said he roamed around looking for a store, bought some food and then left.” His eyes shone. “We think we might know where they are. A rough sketch at least. Couldn’t follow him too far because he kept checking.”

“Finally,” their face gleamed, completely discarding the guest they had and the confusion on his face. “Some good fucking news.”

“Do you want us to put a hit out on them?” The relief the agent felt was almost overwhelming. His partner may have died but it didn’t look like he was going to.

“No,” they said crisply, certainly. “This one’s on me.”

Next part

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thesaltyoceanwaves · 4 years ago

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Let’s Actually Do Something with the Photos of Adrien in Marinette’s Room Instead of Just Making Fun of Her

I know what you’re thinking - “All those photos of Adrien that Marinette has makes her come off as a creepy stalker.” I’m personally not fond of this sentiment, but I get where it comes from. I don’t deny that when it comes to Adrien, Marinette gets obsessive and has difficulty focusing on anything else. It’s draining to watch because the show would rather make fun of Marinette for being like this rather than discuss why she might be obsessive, or offering her ways to actually work on her friendship with Adrien.

So instead of that, let’s make an arc out of it.

Early on the show, Marinette keeps posters of Adrien in her room. These posters are from magazines or promos that he does for his dad’s brand. They lean on the more glamorous or fantastical side. At this point, Marinette has a crush on Adrien, but is nervous about talking to him in any capacity. She uses the posters to act out scenarios of her talking to him. She might even keep different posters with different expressions because she hasn’t been around him enough to know what he looks like when he’s sad, angry, etc.

There can be some silly, romantic scenarios she attempts to roleplay (like asking him out on a date or confessing that she likes him), but nothing as embarrassing as it gets in Puppeteer 2. The point, after all, is not to embarrass her for having feelings, but to show over time how she gets better at talking to Adrien and actually having a relationship with him, instead of just dreaming about it.

(Side note: it would never get to the point that Marinette has this many posters, but she would have a variety).

When asked by someone (likely either Tikki or Alya) why she keeps the posters, this person comes off as incredibly judgmental. When Marinette explains the situation to them, they realize that Marinette has been carrying an incredible amount of anxiety for a while, and decide to find a more productive way to help. They encourage her with simple scenarios like asking him about his day or what he thought about the book they read for class, before graduating to asking to join a study session or going to a movie together with friends. The idea is to eventually get her more comfortable with talking to Adrien so she doesn’t have to think ahead about what she wants to say to him.

As the show goes on, Marinette starts keeping photos and memorabilia from various different episodes. Not all of them are Adrien-centric; there could be a piece of the banner from Timebreaker, a campaign button from Dark Blade and a copy of the album design she made for Jagged Stone. She could also keep sketched copies of her designs she already made on the walls, like the sunglasses she made in Pixelator.

This would bring us into Reflekta, where they take multiple class photos. Marinette finally gets photos of Adrien in a more casual setting, but they are always group shots of other people. They are notably standing on opposite sides of the photo at this point. More work needs to be done in order to build a meaningful relationship at this point, but Marinette is starting to get a better glimpse of what Adrien is really like.

Around this time is when Marinette starts getting closer to Adrien and being able to hold conversations with him. There starts to be less posters of Adrien, being replaced by the photos. Marinette still talks to these photos when she’s being overwhelmed, but these scenarios are less about initiating casual conversation, and more about matters of the heart. Stuff like how she feels about Chloe and Lila bullying her, her romantic feelings, how much she wishes they could spend more time together, or how she wishes she knew that his birthday gift was from her. These are things she still has difficulty expressing to Adrien, because it’s either embarrassing or she’s worried about burdening him with her feelings.

Something happens to cause Marinette to entirely scale down on the photos. It could be caused by Marinette getting into her first fight with Adrien and thinking that she’s ruined everything (note that there would other stuff going on to add onto the emotional volatility) or that Adrien has expressed romantic interest in someone (most likely Kagami). She does this largely because she feels bad and weird about keeping them, and that in order to move on, she needs to entirely eliminate Adrien from her room.

(I don’t really have anything to demonstrate this part of the story, I just needed something to show that it’s at an emotionally gut-wrenching point in the arc).

Provided that certain factors are in play (Adrien knows about her collection, numerous attempts are made by Marinette to either give gifts or confess her feelings and she fails, namely), this can lead to Chat coming to check in on her (perhaps after a bad day and he thinks she’s at risk for akumatization), and sees her cleaning her room. She explains the story to him, and laments that he must think she’s weird for using the photos/posters to roleplay talking to someone.

In a twist of fate, Chat Noir reveals he actually does something similar - he keeps a collection of Ladybug memorabilia in his room. He also uses photos/figures to roleplay talking to Ladybug about his feelings or to think of things to talk to her about for the next time he sees her. However, he is also thinking of downsizing his collection, given that she just told him that she has feelings for someone else. More on Adrien’s side in another post, probably.

Feeling closer to him, Marinette agrees to try to talk to Adrien the next time about whatever is bothering her specifically at that moment. Chat agrees to do the same thing, leading to moments that strengthen two other sides of the Love Square (we can throw in a Ladrien moment somewhere where Ladybug sees the collection in Adrien’s room, and he has to admit that he’s a fan. Ladybug embarrassingly admits that she’s a fan of his too, and they share a laugh over it).

As Marinette works things out with Adrien, she’s able to bring the photos back into her room, but she no longer needs to talk to them in order to express herself. And since she’s been collecting other photos and memorabilia at this point, the photos of Adrien don’t particularly stand out. He is a part of her life, but he is not the focal point of it. He is important to her, but so are her other friends, her city, her passion for design and her family.

Notably, these photos are much more intimate than the class photos. There are shots of the heroes in their civilian forms, hanging out (if Chloe is actually redeemed, that is - if she’s not, than it’s just the main four), and a couple of photos of Adrien and Marinette together. One of them can even be of Adrien modeling the hat for the fashion show, and Marinette smiling next to him.

If the reveal happens before the show ends (let’s say sometime around Season 4), and Marinette has difficulty processing that Adrien and Chat are the same, she starts holding up photos of Chat next to the ones of Adrien. This might lead to her taking down the photos again, if she takes it particularly hard. Alternatively, she might start suspecting that Chat and Adrien are the same, try to convince herself that it couldn’t be true, and do the comparison thing.

And finally, once Marinette and Adrien sort through that and become a couple, Marinette finally starts putting up couple photos. Once again, he has a special place in her heart, so these photos are in places that are easy to see (near her desk, near her fashion displays, a couple near her bed, etc), but they are still integrated into her room in a way to indicate that he is not the defining factor of her life. He doesn’t distract her from her friendships, her family, her hobbies and career interests.

Now when she looks at Adrien in those photos, she can also see herself right next to him.

#ml salt #ml rewrite #ml plot bunny #ofc being a lukanette stan #i also have an au of this scenario #where when marinette gets closer to luka #she starts putting up pictures of him instead #but doesn't need to rely on talking to them to express herself #bc she's never had difficulty with that #eventually #she's able to put adrien photos back up after they establish #that they're just friends #but her photos of luka are in the center of her collection #or they're in areas she's most likely to look at when working at her desk #but since i'm trying to rewrite this into the canon of the show #it's lovesquare focused #also i'm open to suggestions on this #i just really like the idea of marinette's room reflecting her inner psyche #or taking something that's meant to be a joke #and actually making it relevant to a character's development #this whole idea is making me think of the song love deterrence by nana mizuki #back when s2 ended #i thought how nice it would be to have an amv of their moments set to that song #but then s3 ruined everything for me #so i'm just going to imagine this scenario and the version of the show that uses it #being set to that song as an amv #salty rambles

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smellsfaintlyofvanilla · 4 years ago

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Imma be cheeky and write in twice! so home girl aka me has phat as crushes on half the Aot women. *SPOILER* A scene where reader takes the bullet for Sasha but lives instead of dies? xx

Honestly, I'm still reeling from Sasha's death, I need this :')

Promise

(Sasha Braus x Reader)

AU: Canon, divergent

Warnings: Injury, blood, season 4 spoilers

Category: Mostly fluff, a little angst

Summary: Arriving on the airship, Sasha and her S/O celebrate surviving the attack. While they're distracted, a little miscalculation comes aboard.

Words: 2.6K

A harsh breeze assaulted your face, recklessly blowing locks of hair in random directions as you zipped through the air with your ODM gear.

You gazed on at the destruction below. The city of Libero, Marley, had gone up in flames so unceremoniously mere hours ago. Bodies—civilian and military—were scattered on the streets like tiny shards of glass. The sight was horrid to you, and many others, of course. The destruction reminded you of the attack on Shinganshina all those years ago, and what you had seen that day. It was a wicked cycle, and one that was repeating, much to your sorrow.

It was a deliberate attack by Eren Jaeger, your soldier comrade in the Scouts. Once just a hotheaded idiot dead-set on freeing humanity, now an intimidating, powerful man, determined to put an end to Marley and win everyone's "freedom" back. That is, only, if you count genocide as a means to gain freedom.

It was ludicrous. You could never imagine trampling others' freedom in pursuit of your own. It was inhumane, cruel, but...

That's not what you should be thinking about right now.

Your feet hit the underside of the airship, and you slowly scaled your way towards the open door. A hand was outstretched towards you, and attached to the hand was the sun. Or rather, Sasha Braus.

You took her hand graciously, pulling yourself up with a grunt, steadying yourself in the ship before immediately pulling her into an embrace. She returned the gesture, wrapping her arms around your shoulders and burying herself in your neck.

The moment was only brief, however, since the gazes of other soldiers were ever present, so you pulled away somewhat self-consciously.

"I'm so glad you're alright, Y/n." She sighed, taking your hand and squeezing it, a much more subtle gesture of affection. "God, I was so worried. I heard your squad was in a tough spot, and I tried my hardest to go look for you, but Jean he— he wouldn't let go, and—!"

"Sasha, Sasha, relax. It's alright." You smile, setting a hand on her shoulder, and it wasn't until know that you realized she was shaking. "I get you were worried, but I'm here now. I'm okay, we survived, that's all that matters."

You leaned forward, giving her a quick peck on the cheek that made her cheeks tint adorably pink. "Yeah, guess you're right..."

Suddenly, distant yelling across the ship caught your attention. Connie and Jean, both alive and well on the other side of the ship, were waving to you two, calling you over.

You turned back to smile at her, squeezing her hand in affirmation as the two of you made your way over.

"There you two are." Connie smiled, "I admit, I was a little worried this time. Things got pretty bloody out there."

Suddenly, he threw his arms around you, Sasha, and Jean, pulling you into an impromptu group hug. "I know this isn't fair to the others, but... I'm glad you're all okay. You guys are important to me."

Sasha smiled, putting her hand comfortably onto Connie's arm, holding onto him, whilst Jean groaned uncomfortably, shifting around awkwardly.

"Your gear is too damn clunky." He mumbled, worming his way out of the hug. Connie released his hold on you and Sasha shortly after, giving you a genuine, warm smile before de-equipping the gear from his sides.

You leaned against the wall with a groan, massaging at your temples in an attempt to relieve the tension in your head.

"You okay?" Sasha questioned, joining you on the wall as her body turned to you with concern.

"Yeah... Yeah I'm fine." You sigh, releasing your hand from your forehead. "It's just... I don't know... I'm just not used to seeing all this destruction. Until now, we've been fighting titans—not humans. I don't like all this death and destruction. It's so... unnecessary. I hate it." You state flatly, freely dumping all your worries to the auburn-haired girl. Despite what one might think at first, she was amazing at comforting people, and was always there when something was keeping you awake at night, or nagging at you during a day off.

"Babe, I get what you're feeling." She soothes, grabbing you by the shoulders and pulling you in, gently setting her hand on the back of your head to guide it to your shoulder. You silently complied. "This all is awful. That's no lie. It shouldn't have happened. But it isn't your fault, either." She said, running her fingers through your hair. "The responsibility is all on Eren. He started this, not you. Don't ever feel guilty about this."

You didn't respond verbally, instead tilting your head into her neck, allowing her to comfort you for a little while longer, indulging in the rare moment of vulnerability.

The moment was, once again, short lived, as a loud shout startled you out of your spot in the crook of Sasha's neck.

"It's our time to celebrate! The first battle of the new Eldian empire has ended in victory! We won!" It was the voice of Floch, a soldier you had soon grown to hate over your years of knowing him. Not only for his comments towards Armin, but also his support of the attack. He seemed not to care about the lives of Marleyans, rather caring about the success of prosperity of Paradis, or as he called it, "the New Eldian Empire".

"Ignore him." Sasha spoke to you, understanding how easily he would get under your skin. Soon, she started walking over to where Jean and Connie were standing, talking amongst themselves. You followed her wordlessly, deciding that distracting yourself with conversation would be the best option for now.

"Have you heard anything from Lobov?" You managed to pick up Connie saying, once you were in earshot.

"He should be coming up just about now." Jean responded, and you and Sasha took your places next to the two of them.

Sasha opened her mouth to speak, but immediately froze in her place, mouth slightly agape and eyes widened. She turned back to look at the opened airship door in confusion.

"Did you hear that?" She asked, turning back to the group. You, Connie, and Jean all exchanged confused looks for a minute, before Jean cleared his throat, preparing to speak.

"Hey, everyone, quiet down!" He shouted, attempting to gain control of the rowdy soldiers.

"Celebrate! It's our victory!" Floch raised his fist in the air, prompting everyone else to do the same, the group erupting into shouts and cheers.

"Hey!" Jean yelled louder this time, but to no avail.

You turned back to the airship door, scanning where Sasha had looked at moments prior, checking for any possible threats. You were about to turn back around, but an arm hoisting itself onto the airship caught your attention.

You froze in horror, watching as the soldier—a child soldier—rolled aboard the deck, a furious and determined look on her face as she pointed her rifle right into the crowd. Right at Sasha.

There was no time to think it out, to assess the situation—anything.

Without any hesitation, you lurched forwards to tackle Sasha and protect her from the—

*BANG*

The shot rang out, and even after the sound faded, a ring in your ears persisted, blocking out any and all noise around you.

The bullet shell clinked to the ground, and the soldier gazed on in bewilderment at what she'd done, finding herself shocked and unable to reload.

Jean took a quick glance at you and Sasha, both of you on the ground, blood already spilling onto the ground, and his mind clouded with rage. Without thinking, he drew his pistol from his waistband, drawing it up to his shoulder level and shooting back at the soldier.

Another soldier, also a child, a blonde one this time, climbed aboard right after, tackling the girl to the ground and saving her from the bullet, which ricocheted off of the metal beams of the airship and shot back at Jean, narrowly missing his face.

The other soldiers seemed to have gotten a hold of their senses, as they suddenly let out furious screams, charging towards the two children and relentlessly beating them, anger clouding their thoughts.

Sasha groaned from her position on the floor, dark vision finally materializing. She stirred, looking around and trying to gauge what had just happened, raising her hand to her forehead to try and push some of her hair out of her face. To her horror, though, the hand was wet. It was uncomfortably warm, yet characteristically crimson. Her gaze shifted to you in horror, still having your arms tucked protectively around her, shielding her from harm.

"Y/n!" She shouted, yanking you off of her, not realizing in the heat of the moment that that might hurt you. Your clothes were stained with blood, and you let out an involuntary groan in pain as you started to regain your senses.

"Y/n, come on! Where are you bleeding?! Where... where—?!" She searched frantically, her blood running cold and face paling as her hands grew bloodier and bloodier the more she searched. "Come on...!"

Suddenly, you moved your arm, grabbing Sasha's by the wrist and moving her hand away.

"S... Sash, stop, that hurts..." You mumble through clenched teeth, trying your hardest not to let Sasha realize the extent of your injury. Clearly, though, it wasn't working, as she only looked even more panicked at the thought of accidentally hurting you.

"Y/n... I..." She chocked out, tears starting to cloud her eyes as she desperately looked for something to do, something that could possibly help you in this situation.

"Bandages!" She suddenly shouted, "I need bandages! Somebody!!!"

You wince as your own hand starts to roam your torso, looking for the bullet hole. You let out a quiet sigh of relief when you located it—on your shoulder, close to your collarbone. Despite all the blood, it had thankfully missed any vital organs or major arteries.

"Here... Sasha..." You muttered, causing Sasha's head to snap back to your direction at your words. Your hand was cupped over the wound, as if it would stop the bleeding. Still, it signaled to Sasha where exactly the injury was, and you saw some of the tension lift in her face at the realization that it was a fairly nonfatal location, luckily. She took a deep breath in before speaking.

"Shhh... It's okay Y/n." She finally collected herself, calming herself down just enough to comfort you, just like she always had. "Lay down, take deep breaths, don't panic." She instructed, her hands gently pushing you down by your shoulders, and you did as she said wordlessly, being too tired to mutter any sort of affirmation to her.

Another soldier tossed her the roll of bandages, and she immediately started to unwind it, placing it on the wound and wrapping it around and under your armpit with swift precision and caution so uncharacteristic of her.

"Here, this should stop the bleeding a bit. You'll be okay, you'll be just fine..." She mumbled, though it seemed she was reassuring herself more than she was reassuring you.

You laid there in silence, staring up at the ceiling above you—occasionally grunting or wincing at the waves of pain that shot through you. Though, you somewhat reveled in the feeling of your lover carefully wrapping the bandage around your shoulder, taking great caution not to hurt you in any way.

You lolled your head to the other side, staring curiously at her. She was too focused to notice you at first, her tongue poking out of her mouth in concentration. Her skin was still somewhat pale, and adorned with a thin sheen of sweat, from the sudden panic and stress.

Finally, she finished wrapping up the bandage, cutting it from the roll and throwing it haphazardly to the side. Sighing, she gazed down at you, only now realizing you had been staring. She didn't seem to mind though, only reaching her hand down to cup your cheek, the warmth of your skin being a soothing reminder that you were still here—with her. You leaned into her hand, also enjoying the warmth of her skin.

She brushed the loose strands of hair out of your face, leaning down to plant a warm kiss on your lips, smiling as she pulled away, pressing her forehead to yours. You let out a small chuckle before placing your hand on her neck, pulling her down for another kiss.

Once separated, you slowly sat up, pulling yourself into a sitting position with all of the strength you could muster up.

"Ah, Y/n, try not to move so much..." Sasha mutters, worry dripping carelessly into her tone as her hands find your shoulders, guiding you to sit against the wall.

"I'm alright, it's... not so bad." You turned to smile at her weakly, trying to hide the pain's effect on you. It was in vain, however, as Sasha saw through your act quickly.

"No, you're not. Here—" She moved towards you, hooking her arm under your knees, the other one finding your lower back. Slowly, she stood up, carrying you bridal style. You instinctively curled into her chest like a child, gripping onto her shirt as a way to ground you.

To your dismay, though, she eventually stopped, gently laying you down on an old, stiff mattress. One of the infamous beds of the infirmary.

"C'mon, you need rest." She cooed, fluffing your pillow and lifting your head to place it under you. Carefully, she pushed you to the side, making just enough room for her to squeeze into the bed with you. She tucked the blanket over the two of you, lying on her side and facing you, your back turned to her.

She snaked her arm around your waist, pulling you closer and spooning you as gently as possible, as if you were glass, ready to shatter.

You closed your eyes, already feeling sleep and exhaustion taking over your body, the tension and pain slowly dissolving from your muscles.

The silence didn't last long, though.

"Why did you do that?" She finally spoke. Her voice was weak and shaky, trying her hardest to fight off the tears pricking at the corner of her eyes. "Why did you save me?"

"Why wouldn't I?" You rebutted almost immediately, like it was the simplest question she could've asked you.

"You could've gotten killed..." She whispered, pulling you closer to her, trying to get as much skin to skin contact as possible.

"So?" You shifted, turning your head around to face her, staring her down. A twinge of sadness poked at your heart at the sight of the tears in her eyes. You instinctively moved your hands to wipe them away. "I couldn't imagine a world where I would live without you, knowing I had the option to save you and didn't choose it."

She sniffled again, not fighting the tears that escaped her eyes. "But what would I have done if I lost you? I wouldn't know what to do... I couldn't live with myself if that happened."

"You don't gotta worry about that..." You mumbled, kissing away her tears. "No matter what, I'm not leaving you, and I trust you won't ever leave me. After all," You smiled warmly, causing a shy blush to rise to her cheeks. "We still have to get married after the war, and settle down in the forest with a few kids, just like you always said you dreamed of."

She smiled, a hopeful look sparking in her eyes. "Yeah, guess so."

You turned your head back over, closing you eyes.

"I promise you, I'll never leave you. Remember that."

"Of course," She smiles, leaning into the nape of your neck and inhaling your scent. "Of course I know that. I trust you."

"Love you..."

"Love you too."

This would probably be better if I didn't shoe-horn it in at 12AM but whatever, it's not super bad

#attack on titan #aot #snk #shingeki no kyojin #aot x reader #snk x reader #sasha braus #sasha blouse #sasha x reader #sasha braus x reader #sasha blouse x reader

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fandom-eclectics · 3 years ago

Note

Hello! If requests are open, may I ask for (separate) Headcanons for Shinsou and Todoroki as Pro-Heroes and how their everyday Adult life would look like? You may add in the aspect of them having a partner too, female s/o if your alright with it! And thank you💗

Thank you so much for the request! And yes, my inbox is wide open! :)! This was so much fun to do, sorry it took a minute!

|| ℙ𝕣𝕠 ℍ𝕖𝕣𝕠𝕖𝕤 ||

Characters: Shinsou and Todoroki

Status: Not Proofread

Reader -

Type: Headcannons // Fluff

Warnings: none // Again, I haven’t read the manga so if their life as adults or pro heroes is in the manga then I’m sorry if this is not accurate. It is just my personal opinion.

A/n: hope everyone who’s reading enjoys!! :) sorry if these are complete garbage, I was a bit scatter brained when writing these well more than I typically am

✎ Shinsou

Okay, so for starters, we all know Shinsou’s an insomniac. Therefor, he would definitely take the night shift.

He wouldn’t run into a lot of small children on the night shift like Deku typically would during the day

Though, I do imagine on slow nights, him finding a few teenagers lost or drunk and him helping them home or to a safe space.

As for robberies and just small villain attacks, I think Shinsou would do his best to keep it as under control as possible

I don’t think he’d call for a whole police force just to deal with a simple break-in.

I see him as the type that if he knows he needs help he’ll call for it, but he’s not going to make a big deal out of small situations

I can see him sitting on the park bench to take a small break and looking up at the stars, just connecting the constellations mentally.

Eventually, around sunrise, clocking in and heading to his apartment because his shift is over.

Now, if he had an s/o

I imagine he would try his best on weekends to spend time with them

Even though his night shifts and your day shifts can be tricky to work around

He would make you breakfast when he got home before falling asleep

Of course probaly nothing grand, but something simple and nice like a cup of coffee, a few waffles, and maybe some fruit.

I can also see him leaving one of his hoodies lying around eith a small note on it that says something along the lines of

“If you ever start missing me”

Or smth like that idk exactly

Also, I think he’d ocaddionally leave you small gifts on your nightstand for when you wake up

Not all the time of course but every now and then just something small

Maybe a little figurine of one of your fav superhero’s or a book you’ve been wanting

Just something that he knows would make you smile

And! Before he leaves for his night shifts, you two have the best hugs

Like I’m talking they last for like three minutes straight, because you two just hold each other

Now, with full scale attacks, no matter what time he is called in Shinsou is there in a heartbeat

He doesn’t drag around when it comes to getting to crime scenes or attack places quick

He’s there in minutes fighting and protecting civilians

Oh and my my if you were to ever get kidnapped or held hostage

Let the lord bless those villians because they would be dead in seconds

Shinsou doesn’t joke around when it comes to your safety, he knows he’s a pro hero and that villains might target his s/o

So if your ever in a sticky situation, expect to see whoever is causing it to be tied up in a capture scarf in the blink of an eye

Shinsou vision board thing like I did for Deku because yes

✎ Todoroki

Oh how I love this little bean

Shoto would handle things inside an agency building such as police cases and paperwork

Now now now, hear me out, hear me out, he would still go on patrols in things

Though, I feel in everyday work life Shoto would be good with helping the police and things with cases whether they are crimes or civil matters

We’ve seen his strategic skills are bomb so he’d be a big help to them

On the days that he does go on patrol, Shoto would go during the day

He might not be as good with kids as Deku would be but he still handles them pretty well

Where he really shines when it comes to slow and civil instances is helping older folks

Shoto doesn’t mind carrying anything that needs to be carried, helping them cross the street, helping them find their way to certain shops or parks

And older folks just love Shoto and his calm and cool manners

I mean everyone loves Shoto but that’s not the point

For crimes such as robbery or kidnapping, Shoto would take care of it as quickly as he could

Now he’s not big on worrying about damage in the moment of catching the culprit

His priority is to get the person who committed the crime in jail as fast as possible.

Before it turns into something extremely serious

So Shoto doesn’t always think about the Dana he his huge icebergs might do

Of course he doesn’t do anything Bakugou level rash (Bakugou stans don’t come for meeee)

But like I said, he wants the culprit caught

Though, is cautious about using his fire and only does in extreme situations, trying his best to stick to ice.

I’m extreme attacks though, Shoto goes all out

He will not stop until the villains are defeated and the civilians are safe

And, if you, his s/o, gets caught up in one of these situations?

My word, the LENGTHS Shoto will go to so he can know you are safe and not in the middle of all the crossfire

Shoto Todoroki would wake up early in the morning

And I mean like 5:00 early in the morning

But, he would always be sure to shower your face in soft kisses, being careful not to wake you

He would also leave small sticky notes that say sweet messages on them

I imagine you would always come to pick Shoto up from work and you two get takeout almost every night

It’s like y’all’s tradition thingy sorta

You two talk about y’all’s day on the way to the food place, maybe turn on some good music

Ya know, just bonding

Being thankful that you both are still alive and safe in this crazy world

Sorry Sho’s hair isn’t red and white. It’s the closest picture I could find to what I imagined

You are so loved! <3

Hope you have an amazing day/night!

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canmom · 3 years ago

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Toku Tuesday 40: Seinen Manga

みんなさん、今晩は！

Good evening everyone! We’re going to continue another week of ‘actual tokusatsu’: tonight on Toku Tuesday, our theme is, movies based on seinen manga...

In the notional demographic system of manga, 青年 seinen means ‘adult men’, in contrast to the other major demographic categories of 少年 shōnen (teenage boys), 女性 josei (adult women), and 少女 shōjo (teenage girls). In practice these categories, defined at the magazine level, are very porous; a series can move between different magazines of different demographics, and they often serve more as genre classifications than ‘only x demographic will be interested in y kind of story’.

We can maybe see all four demographics as successors to the legacy of the gekiga movement of more adult-oriented comics; once, gekiga was conceived of as a different type of thing entirely than manga, but now it’s all conceived of as different types of manga and the oldschool Tezuka-style comics have almost completely vanished. I’m not exactly sure how or when that shift happened...

So, what exactly does seinen manga mean? I am nowhere near widely read enough to give a full overview, but the manga that I’ve read that falls into this category tends to include heavy psychological dramas, historical fiction, horror, nihilism, and of course (probably goes without saying) usually quite a bit of sex and gore. Many of Tumblr’s favourite mangaka, like Junji Ito and Kentaro Miura, fall into this demographic, but so too do works like Houseki no Kuni.

I think there may also be a visual component, in that the works I think of often show an emphasis on high detail, anatomical realism and very refined linework, although inevitably that depends a lot on the artist, and to a fair extent is shared with manga at large. Even within those trends, there is of course considerable diversity. Here, take a look at a few examples, all classified under seinen...

Homunculus, illus. Hideo Yamamoto.

Made in Abyss, illus. Akihito Tsukishi:

Vagabond (coloured version), illus. Takehiko Inoue

Uzumaki, illus. Junji Ito:

Berserk, illus. Kentaro Miura:

Houseki no Kuni, illus. Haruko Ichikawa:

Ghost in the Shell/Koukaku Kidoutai, illus. Masamune Shirow:

Gantz, illus. Oku Hiruya

Insofar as a lot of such manga depends on the specific qualities of illustration and comics, adapting them to film - whether animation or live action - can be a tricky challenge for a director. But there have been plenty of attempts! So tonight what I have for you are adaptations of two manga series I enjoyed. Which is mostly an excuse to talk about some manga I find interesting! To not keep you in suspense, that’s Gantz and Homunculus change of plans, Ichi the Killer.

Lets start with Gantz. This was perhaps the first really edgy manga I read, back at the age of... I want to say 17? It was a big shock at the time, but also was still pretty early in its run. I came back to it much later to read with adult eyes.

Gantz starts on a relatively small scale: a group of people who recently died wake up in a room, where a large shiny black orb containing a bald man on life support mocks them and equips them with strange weapons and suits before dispatching them to assassinate an ‘onion alien’. The series is deeply fascinated with gore, from the gradual ‘printing’ of people in space by the Gantz orb to the delayed, splattery dismemberment of the sci-fi guns. The protagonists soon discover the many dangers of their missions: they’ll get their heads blown off if they stray too far from the mission area, their superstrength suits can be overloaded, and their enemies become increasingly overwhelming. In between battles, Kei returns to his civilian life at school, unable to speak about what’s happening in the strange pocket dimension where the battles take place, but soon the violence spills out to threaten him at home as well.

But what of the actual thematic arc of the series, beyond the moment to moment action? This centres at first on the dynamic between Kei Kurono and Masaru Kato, reunited when they are killed by a train attempting to rescue someone who fell onto the tracks. Kei was once a very prosocial upstanding young man, but by the outset of the series becomes increasingly embittered; Masaru on the other hand looked up to Kei’s example when they were younger and tries desperately to save the people teleported by the orb. Spoilers, Masaru dies, and Kei - who survives enough missions to become confident navigating the battles - starts to attempt to live up to what Masaru saw in him and earn enough points to bring him back, along with everyone else who died, all contrasted against the nihilistic views of other successful survivors and the slaughter of the various groups pulled into the sphere.

It’s also a story of... a lot of love triangles! Kei falls into relationships with various girls, from a popular idol who’s part of the Gantz team, to a shy schoolgirl. Sounds like wish fulfilment? No doubt, but as the series goes on, it turns into a story of an alien invasion by enormous giants who start to gather the humans as pets. It turns out the Gantz system was somehow a means to train humans to resist the aliens, put in place by a third alien power. The series splits into a number of different narrative strands, following humans trapped in the alien spaceship - Kei’s girlfriend Tae in particular - and the resistance on the ground.

Eventually, the humans win and start committing war crimes against the giants, and the third party reveals themselves to tell everyone that they are omnipotent, everyone’s suffering is pointless, and there is no god, and to demonstrate this point, they summon back various deceased characters and then kill them off again. But also reincarnation is in fact real! The series ends with Kei, finally reunited with Tae, going back into space to fight a duel with one of the surviving alien giants to protect the Earth from a last-ditch attack by the aliens.

A word must surely be said of Gantz’s attitude to girls. It’s undoubtedly horny as all hell; the camera loves to linger on nude shots and nearly every issue of the manga will have a cheesecake version of the suit at the start or end. It’s not unable to afford girls subjectivity or give them a place in the battles, even if the centre of the narrative is always Kei. The relationship between Tae and the alien giant woman who initially takes her as a pet but later starts talking to her is interesting, with definite shades of Fantastic Planet. But ultimately, all the girls desires are rather limited by the heterosexual imagination - a very frustrating limitation.

It’s quite a thing. It is a very chaotic story, with a keen sense for impactful and disturbing visuals. Although I know Hiruya intended from the start to slaughter most of the cast, I feel like the overall arc of the story can’t have been planned; rather what unites it is perhaps an overall attitude. The ideas it’s dealing with - hope, despair, nihilism and meaning - are perhaps familiar, and Kei is very much an anime protagonist boy not too far afield from his shōnen counterparts, but the underlying brutality helps give them a bit of weight.

As a highly popular manga, Gantz has seen a few adaptations, although none attempt to cover the whole work. None other than Ichirō Itano, inventor of the Itano Circus shot in which dozens of missiles scatter across the screen (c.f. Animation Night 64) took it on in 2004, carrying on the ethos of his bloody 80s OVAs like Battle Royal High School. Maybe at some point we’ll take a look at that on Animation Night?

Five years later, a second attempt would begin: Shinsuke Sato’s live action film adaptation, consisting of three films (one made for TV), the first released in 2009 and seemingly fairly closely following the early parts of the manga, the second diverging with a plot in which there are two Masarus, one good and one evil. This project seems to have been reasonably successful, praised for the special effects, and would set Sato on a path to adapt more manga to film, including one of Bleach. Whether it can capture the sense of desperation that the manga expresses remains to be seen, but I’ll definitely be curious.

My plan for the second film was to take last year’s adaptation of Hideo Yamamoto’s manga Homunculus by Ju-On creator Takashi Shimizu. Unfortunately I hear it sucks, both as an adaptation and a film in its own right, stripping the manga of the complexity that is so vital, particularly in e.g. the rape scene where an exceptionally careful touch would be needed. I haven’t found even one good review of it, from fans or critics of the manga alike; fans are in particular unhappy that it substantially changed the second half of the story and removed a lot of character complexity.

So let’s abandon that plan and go for another gorefest, based on a different Hideo Yamamoto work: Ichi the Killer.

Now, to be clear, I have not read Ichi the Killer, and I can’t comment on whether Miike’s adaptation is close or not. Regardless of its origin, the film garned immense controversy for being really hyper-gory (trust Miike!), portraying a spiral of yakuza violence surrounding an extremely unsympathetic main character. Critics say things like

"It's a paradox, but Ichi the Killer, a film that sets new boundaries in the portrayal of violence and bloodshed, takes a strongly critical stance towards the portrayal and the consumption of the violent image. However, it does so without ever taking a moral stance towards either the portrayal or the consumption, thus circumventing any accusations of hypocrisy on the part of the director. Miike does not moralise or chastise, but provokes the audience into questioning their own attitudes towards viewing images of violence. He steers them into a direction but leaves it up to them to draw their own conclusion".[5]

I suppose we’ll see for ourselves what that means. Miike is someone we have seen on many a previous Toku Tuesday, albeit more in the softer end with films like The Happiness of the Katakuris and Zebraman. So this is perhaps an opportunity to dive into the other side of Miike, the one who is known for his splattery films and pushing boundaries to breaking point. (Some of which we saw in his take on Jojo).

Ichi the Killer follows an unstable, sadistic man who loves to get off on watching other people commit sexual violence. He is manipulated by a man named Jijii who, acting behind the scenes, wants to kill off various factions of yakuza. Under Jijii’s hand, Ichi is given a number of false memories, convincing him in particular that he raped someone in high school, which shapes him into a horny murderer that Jijii can turn on whoever he wants removed. The plan, inevitably, goes to shit and the escalating violence soon reaches back towards Jijii himself. The whole affair sounds reminiscent of something like the Vengeance Trilogy (TT#29), and it has similar moments of ‘ooohhhhhh gross’ like skewers in ears.

From reading this film’s synopsis, it seems very few people walk away from this bloodbath intact, but sex workers seem to have both a fairly major role (almost all the women mentioned in the synopsis are sex workers) and don’t tend to live very long in this film. I feel like there is probably a lot to critically analyse here, especially placed alongside the other works of Hideo Yamamoto, but I should hold off until I have seen the film and also read the original manga.

So to summarise, tonight the plan is to watch Gantz (2011), and Ichi the Killer (2001)! In whichever order they first get onto my hard drive.

Unfortunately due to a paucity of seeds, I am still waiting for the films to download. Expect Toku Tuesday to begin in maybe an hour and a half, around 9pm UK time, and I’ll be sure to announce it here when we’re ready.

#toku tuesday #aren't you glad tumblr shortens posts for you now #gore cw

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deadinside-butstill-horny · 4 years ago

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The Night We Met

Part One - The Night We Met

Pairing: Javier Peña/ Female Murphy!Reader

Words: 5.3k

Summary: Murphy's sister travels to Colombia after realising Steve might not quite be A-Okay and meets the Javier Peña.

Content Warnings: 18+ Smut-ish (I wouldn’t wanna read it out to my mom), dry humping, dirty talk in Spanish which reader doesn’t understand so does it really count?, gratuitous love of the black shirt from the torture scene.

AO3

MASTERLIST

Author Note: So here is my return to writing! The word count got away from me but I loved every second of it. Always after prompts, so drop me a message on here if you'd like to see anything in particular. If it's in my wheelhouse, you'll definitely see it.

Pedro in the black shirt in this scene is what inspired me to write this, I can’t lie.

If you were brutally honest with yourself, this spur of the moment decision may have been a mistake.

Other people could make these choices and not have that nagging feeling in their gut from the second they booked their fuckin' airline ticket. You had attempted to grab life by its metaphorical horns and go and sort this shit show out by yourself, but after your momentarial bravery was used up, all that was left was a crippling anxiety that threatened to send you into a full scale panic attack if you thought too hard about the fact you were following your big brother to Colombia.

Yes, Colombia. You, a U.S. national with no particular interest in hunting Pablo Escobar, had decided to vacation in sunny, crime ridden Bogotá on a whim.

You were fuckin’ dumb.

Sarcasm aside, you weren’t actually here on vacation, you were going to check on Stevie. Your brother, one of the DEA agents assigned with taking down Escobar.

You’d been worried about him for a few months, it had sounded like he was dealing with heavy shit in South America, you knew that was the job, but he was still your brother.

His calls had gotten less and less frequent until he stopped returning them all together and the only reason you knew he was alive were your pep-talks with your sister-in-law, trying to help her keep her shit together, but hell, you weren’t a therapist or a miracle worker. So when Connie rang asking to stay at your place you had obliged and she had returned to Miami a mere shell of her former self.

After a mammoth amount of prodding over the course of two days you managed to wring the truth out of her, not the nuggets of information she had given you over the phone in hushed whispers during her time in Colombia but the whole messy story; the communist Elisa Alvarez, Steve’s kidnapping and the cold edges your brother was developing.

It was all you could do not to book the tickets there and then, but you held out and supported Connie in the ways Steve couldn't have, taking care of Olivia when you could and just trying your hardest to be there for her. Your presence alone seemed to be enough to help her through the days that followed. A week and a half after her return, you booked your flight to Colombia in secret.

You had to check on Steve.

He hadn’t answered a single one of your many many calls. You packed light and told Connie the morning of, and whilst she didn’t like it, she understood. You supposed that a part of her was relieved to know her husband would have someone in Colombia that wasn't there to kill him.

So here you sat, two hours into your flight to the paradise destination; Bogotá. Your brother's address scrawled on a scrap piece of paper in the one hand and a glass of cheap whiskey in the other. The alcohol did little to to calm your nerves, this was a dangerous place for a cop, let alone a fuckin’ clueless civilian.

When the plane finally touched down, you stood from your seat emptying the last few drops of whiskey which had tried to evade you onto your tongue, you picked up your backpack and queued to leave the plane.

The second you left the aircraft the humidity hit you like a brick wall, it was like all of the fresh air had been sucked out of the atmosphere. On a normal evening you would appreciate such a warm climate, but now the heat meant frustration to your tired brain and it only added to your baseline levels of anxiety as your hairline and upper lip were drenched as you walked through the arrivals gate.

Cards on the table; you didn’t have much of a game plan, you spoke no Spanish and stuck out like a sore thumb. You had the address but no means to get there, you didn’t relish the idea of getting in a taxi as a woman alone in a foreign country, but with little to no other options you went to hail one of the cabs that sat outside the airport.

Your fears turned out to be for naught, well not quite naught as the man had raked his eyes across your body for a large percentage of the trip in his mirror, but he had the good grace not to kidnap or murder you, which for you meant it was a successful journey, how low you had set the bar was just occuring to you.

After paying the gentleman he dropped you outside what appeared to Steve’s apartment building. You take a moment on the pavement to recollect yourself ready for your reunion. Peeling your denim jacket off, you decide instead to wrap it around your waist, tying the sleeves securely. With a harumph, you grab the handle of your suitcase, and drag it behind you. Your success thus far gives you a second wind of determination.

Though apparently dumb luck can only get you so far, because after heaving your suitcase up a flight of stairs and rapping on the door of apartment 20 until your knuckles ached, it began to dawn on you, you had no clue if this was even the right building.

“Fuck.” you mutter to yourself, you should’ve rang Connie or tried Steve again when you landed, but you’d been so single minded in carrying out your plan all common sense had apparently abandoned you. So with a million different scenarios of things you could’ve done better playing out behind your eyes you dragged your suitcase to the small lobby of the building, where the front door stood.

You huffed and dropped onto the bottom step in surrender, not quite sure where to go from here.

Weeks of anxiety and worry finally took their toll on your body as reality set in, and as it did so you couldn’t help but laugh at the sheer stupidity of the situation you’d put yourself in. A light chuckle escaped your body as you held your face in your hands,you rubbed at your eyes as a way of refreshing yourself before sighing and leaning back.

You must have sat with your head in your hands for around three hours before anyone of note arrived, you had received strange looks from residents in their comings and goings as they stepped around you, your expectant looks turned to disappointment when you realised they weren’t Steve. In fairness, you, a gringa sitting on the stairs at 2am, most likely wasn’t a daily occurrence to these homeowners.

By the time he came through the door, your eyes were closed and your head was leant on the bannister, trying to get what little rest you could. Your eyes opened a crack to see a man and a woman enter the building and turn right, the man had his arm around her as he stared at you in confusion, the look was so quick you may have missed it if you blinked, but they were talking in low whispers of Spanish and from the looks of things he didn’t give you a second thought.

So you extended him the same courtesy and shut your eyes once again, you heard the metal jangling of keys going into the lock, the sound of smacking lips and then the door was closed. You figured that was the end of it, instead you heard hurried footsteps coming towards you, your eyes shot open as he rounded the corner.

“Estás bien?” The man questioned. It took you a moment to realise he was talking to you, as you took him in you were struck by your stupidity, how could you have dismissed this man so quickly even in the throes of a mental breakdown. His chocolate brown eyes bore into your own as you realised he was waiting for a response.

“Uh… no hablo... español?” you pretty much asked him, cringing internally at your butchering of the most basic sentence of this gorgeous strangers language, his lips quirked at your mumbles making his mustache raise on one side with his smirk. Now, you’d never been a fan of a mustache, Steve and your father had both taken to styling their facial hair in such a way, and as a rule of thumb they were a big no-no. But my god. This man made that mustache his bitch and that bitch worked for him.

“You’re American?” He questions, smirk dropping along with his eyebrows in confusion as his brain processes the information.

“Oh thank god and Jesus fuckin’ christ above. You’re American!” Your timid nature had given way to pure unadulterated relief. “Stevie, Steve Murphy, he lives in this building, yeah?”

“Yeah… Stevi...Steve lives here- I’m sorry, who the hell are you?” He asks with a puzzled look and a shake of his head, there’s an air of distrust about him for some strange reason.

“I’m Y/N Murphy, I’m his sister.”

“Sister? Mierda... does he know you’re here?”

“Nope,” You pop your P as you shrug at the man before you with false nonchalance. “He’d have to answer the phone to me or Connie to know that now, wouldn’t he?”

“Steve.” The stranger sighed, annoyed.

“Sorry, who are you?” You asked, yourself becoming more bemused by the man by the second.

“I’m Steve’s partner, Javier.” He held out his hand which you were more than happy to take in a shake, his tan hand was soft yet strong as it held your own captive within it. “C’mon in I’ll give him a call, God knows what time he’s planning on getting back.”

“Uh, I don’t want to interrupt…” You mumble, waving your free hand vaguely towards where you knew the woman was waiting for him, making him smirk once again.

You were beginning to think that the sarcastic raise of his mouth was just his default resting face.

“You’re not interrupting anything.”

Now I know what you’re thinking, ‘cause I’d think it to. This is how people die in America, let alone fuckin’ Colombia, but if it's a choice between dying at the hands of a gorgeous man who seems to know your brother or a stray that wonders in through the non-descript lobby door then you’d rather go out with a nice view, even if he did have a girlfriend.

If you had to gamble, you’d say you had a damn good chance of making it out of this apartment alive.

So you nodded and used the hand he hadn’t released yet to pull yourself up into a standing position. He wasn’t particularly tall but he still towered over you, your eyeline gave you a great view past his black shirt which was unbuttoned quite liberally, you assumed that was courtesy of the woman he’d entered with.

“Thank you,” you nodded at him with a genuine smile of relief. He didn’t reply, only grabbed the handle of your pull along suitcase before extending his arm towards his apartment and motioning to wordlessly say, after you.

Now you know how people say when you can feel a stare? You had the sensation before, but as you leaned over to pick up your backpack from the bottom step, you felt his eyes laser focus on your denim clad ass. You turned your head in disbelief and found his eyes still lingered there for a moment before meeting your own. Unbelievable. Part of you was flattered, the other part was bemused that he had a beautiful woman in there waiting and here he was ogling you.

You rolled your eyes, instilled with a new confidence as you turned and walked towards his apartment, you felt his eyes follow your form once more.

Steve’s hot partner was an ass man... Good to know.

...

As it turns out Javier’s girlfriend, or what you we’re starting to think was more of a one night stand, was not happy with the situation at all, you came to this discovery as Javier pointed you to the sofa before beginning arguing with her in hushed Spanish, the beautiful woman huffed and sent a dirty look your way before storming out and slamming the door behind her, with enough power to make it shake in its bearings. You raised your eyebrows at Javier from your seat. He shook his head with a sigh and began lighting up a cigarette, he turned and offered you one.

“No thanks, I quit.”

“Woman with an iron will?”

“Not quite,” You whisper, shaking your head.

He smiles before clearing his throat and moving over to pick up his landline. Javier presses a combination of buttons, before putting it to his ear and blowing the smoke from his lungs. His eyes met yours as the phone rang, he gave you reassuring wink.

“Murphy? … Yeah… you need to get back to your place now... You’ve got a guest.... No … come find out why don’t you?” Sarcasm dripped from his lazy tone, his voice was so smooth. It was like chocolate on gravel, you could listen to him talk for hours, which led your mind down that deep dark hole of what he sounded like during more carnal acts, he’d be a talker, for definite, what with all that confidence and swagger. “‘Kay… I’ll see you soon.”

Shaking your head you centred yourself, it had been a dry patch for you. You needed to calm down and not throw yourself at your brother's partner, even if he just so happened to be the first man you had any interest in to show you attention in months.

“He’s on his way,” He confirmed what you already knew but you liked hearing him speak so you nodded in thanks. An awkward silence filled the air for a few moments, as you two perfect strangers shared one another's company.

“Drink?” He offered pointing at the bottle of whiskey on the counter.

“God, yes.” You all but moaned at the offer. Javier chuckled, and grabbed a second glass from his cupboard, before pouring you both a generous serving. He walked around the back of the sofa, and passed you the glass of liquid gold and took a seat next to you. Close enough to initiate something, but not touching, quite a respectful distance.

Initiate something? God Y/N, get your mind out of the gutter. This poor man had only invited you in because you were his partner's sister and he was doing the decent thing.

“Uh… The television work?” You ask, pointing at the empty screen.

“I didn’t realise you could speak Spanish…” His voice was dripping with false surprise, mocking your earlier attempts at the language, though he reached across and switched the box on with the remote, he began flicking through the channels so quickly he almost gave you a headache.

“Oh yes, I’m very proficient, I just didn’t want to intimidate you earlier. Hola Señor Javier.” You say continuing his ruse. He chuckles at your words, it's a deep warm noise that shakes his entire frame. You were definitely thinking about adding Javier’s voice to your top ten list of favourite sounds.

He flicks through the channels, for a few seconds before sighing and dropping the remote in your lap. Taking your assignment seriously, you sit up, bringing yourself a few inches closer to the man next to you, purely accidentally of course and begin flicking through the channels as Javier had done moments before, though 3am TV scheduling left a lot to be desired.

News, News, Colombian QVC, News, News, Soap opera. Bingo!

“Ah, now we’re talking.” You mumble, eyes stuck on the screen of the Colombian Soap opera playing. The two of you sat in silence once again as you slowly sipped on your drinks watching drama play out.

You watched in silence for around ten minutes, not understanding a single word of what was being said. The scene was on two latino actors sitting in a bedroom. The woman was sat on the bed being confronted by the man in a serious tone.

“What is she saying?” You question narrowing your eyes at the beautiful woman's tone. Javier, who had been watching your reactions the whole time as you got into the awful tv show scrambled as he tried to listen and translate the woman's words.

“Uh… her dads an alcoholic and she’s trying to support her son… that guy didn’t know about the son... I think… she was happy living a double life without the worry and she wants him to forgive her and start over…” Javier translated, giving you the general cliff notes.

“Oh shit,” You gasped at his words, but your attention diverted to the screen where the two had continued their heated argument and began kissing or rather where the man was devouring her neck, “I’m getting vibes that he might be open to forgiving her.”

You chuckled at your own joke, as did Javier. Though this time when his body shook his bare elbow touched your own.

How was he so goddamn warm?

All he was wearing was a black button down shirt. One that looked to be the wrong size it was so tightly fitted- not that you were complaining about the view. My God, were you horny today.

You took a gulp of your drink, trying to refocus for the third or fourth time this evening, trying so desperately to reign in your inner school girl and focus on the television, though that didn’t help as the actors were now eating one anothers faces on a bed. The silence was thick with tension, though that could’ve been entirely on you; one innocent touch of a man's elbow and you’re a blushing mess.

Get a grip Y/N.

The silence dragged on as you pretended to watch the soap opera you had absolutely no understanding of in a futile attempt to ignore the man next to you. You can only imagine what he thought of your levels of focus on the tv, as you stared at the box in the corner of the room like it was the greatest cinematic masterpiece of all time and you were getting ready to write a full-scale analysis on the work of art.

Javier broke the tension in the room by finally asking the question that had been on his lips all evening.

“You came all the way to Colombia... Why?” Javier grabbed a cigarette off of the coffee table, placing his drink where the carton of smokes had been. He lit the stick and waited for your response, honestly, you were thrown. The question had come out of nowhere whilst you were still trying to analyse why exactly this man had such an effect on you when he was doing nothing but being a good host. You hastened to think up a half coherent reply before you just answered truthfully.

“Steve stopped answering the phone, I mean he’s always been shitty at checking in, even when he was in Miami. When he got here we’d have a catch up every week or so, we all know how dangerous it is for you guys over here, so we joked about calling it ‘the alive check’. For the last couple of months, I was checking in with Connie more than Steve but he’d still pick up once every week, without fail. Then four weeks ago the fucker stopped answering my calls all together and Connie showed up on my doorstep with Olivia in tow last week.”

“Look, you coming down here probably makes more problems than it solves, Steve’s a big boy if he doesn’t call to check in, it's probably ‘cause he’s busy... He’s-” Something about Javier’s dismissive tone rubbed you the wrong way, call it sleep deprivation or blame the weeks of stress, but you were tired of being called paranoid. You were not an overbearing mother hen.

“My brother always answers my calls. Or at least he used to. I can’t begin to understand what you guys are going through, but I’m not losing my brother to some piece of shit Colombian drug dealer.”

Javier raised his hands in mock surrender, cigarette still in mouth. “He’s actually more of a drug lord slash narcoterrorist, but-”

“How is he?” You interrupt Javier’s attempt at diffusing the situation with humor, turning to him on the sofa. You rearranged yourself, bringing your leg up so your knee touched his thigh as you gave him your full attention, you plucked the smoke from between his lips and held it between your two fingers as you spoke. “Tell me Steve’s fine. Tell me I’m worrying for nothing and I’ll get back on that plane and leave tomorrow morning."

You take one drag and offer it back to him, he accepts it, deliberately looking you in the eyes as he places the cigarette in his mouth, attaching his lips to where your own had been seconds earlier. He takes it from his mouth and stubs it on an ash tray that rests on the arm of the sofa, his focus is single minded on his task. The pressure in your lower stomach is mounting as you stare at the tanned man before you who is carrying out a menial task that has you more turned on than you’d ever admit.

When the red tip is extinguished thoroughly, taking much longer than you thought it needed to, Javi turns to you, his mahogany eyes have you pinned in your tracks. You found yourself admitting they were gorgeous for the second time this evening, they were the type of brown you could never quite describe, they had so much depth, not quite a chocolate, not quite coffee, they were rich and deep pools. They reminded you of the forest, not the green leaves but the earthy brown, the strong beams of wood that held everything up around it.

Javier's hand emigrated forward slowly, your eyes followed the movement in your peripheral but you didn’t dare look away from the pools of molasses as he reached to grip one hand at your denim thigh, his eyes roamed your face for any sign of this being an unwelcome approach and when he found none his other hand began its climb to rest on your jaw, just below your ear.

You couldn’t say if you moved towards him or if he advanced on you, all you knew was he was on you now as the tips of your noses rubbed against one another.

“Quiero saborearte…” He whispered so lowly you barely even heard it before he leaned in that last inch and captured your lips in a single, chaste kiss. Your lips connected and you realised the heat you had felt from his arms had been nothing. Fire coursed through your veins upon contact, surging through your blood and going south to a pressure that built in your lower stomach.

Your hand shot up to land on his collarbone, before you could even really consider your own actions you pulled apart until your foreheads were the only thing touching. He was intoxicating, you could lose yourself completely in this man, he somehow smelt like cinnamon, whiskey and sweat, a combination you’d never thought would send liquid fire through your central nervous system. You’d give anything to taste him properly, but this was wrong. So so wrong. This was your brother's partner, this was inviting complication to your door, when you were just here to check on Steve. You were here for Steve.

You were here for Steve...

“... This isn’t a good idea.” You all but whisper, closing your eyes. Regret pulses through your veins at your self imposed restraint.

“Never is.” He leaned forward and captured your lips. You didn’t have any fight left in you, exhausted and at wits end you embraced your spiral into stupidity instead and your hands glided across the clammy skin of his neck to grab at his short ink black hair. You wrapped your fingers around it to drag him closer to you, your lips clashed, all teeth at first but you didn’t care as his tongue began to fight against yours for dominance.

He tasted as good as you imagined, he was the right combination of sweet and bitter, with undertones of whiskey and tobacco on his tongue. Your response to his assault on your mouth told him it was go time, Javier pulled you into his lap and his hands lowered to your ass. Your body was flush with his own as your breasts pressed against his chest, you could feel every solid line of his lithe body against your own.

You licked at his honied tongue, before withdrawing and pulling his bottom lip into your mouth and sucking on the soft plush skin. His mustache tickled your upper lip, a sensation you weren’t used to but could so easily grow to love. This made him tighten his grip on your backside in response and he let out a throaty groan at the meat he found there, Javier was definitely an ass man, you felt his bulge pressing against your core as you both began grinding against each other in earnest. You felt like a horny teenager as you grinded on a man you barely knew.

You felt him grip at the bottom of your tank top and begin to lift it, except he stopped, and began to rub patterns on the stomach he exposed. Javier’s mouth descended from your lips to begin to suck and lick at your throat. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head at his work as pleasure rippled throught your body. His hands slid the length of your body to grab at your chest, which conforming to every stereotype was heaving, he palmed your breast blindly as his face was still buried in your hair, sucking and kissing along to your ear, before he raised his mouth a mere inch and whispered “Te follaré toda la noche niña.”

He said it with such surety that your body convulsed in on itself without even needing to know what the man above you was saying. You could only hope it was absolutely filthy and profanity ridden, because then at least, the sentiment would be shared. He bit at the lobe of your ear before his hands left your breasts and travelled to the hem of your tank top, getting ready to pull it over your head.

It was strange to say that you remembered your brother was on his way here as a man tried to take your t-shirt off, but that’s just the way it went. You knew if that top came off, dry humping would be the most PG action of the night and if Steve turned up and found you mounted on his partner, he probably wouldn’t be too thrilled.

You couldn’t stop yourself from stroking the man's hair whose face was planted in between your tits as his hips rose against your own pushing his hardened length up against the seams of your jeans, you gasped as he hit that sweet spot. You let out a noise that sounded like a wail. You wanted nothing more than to lie back and let this man have his filthy way with your body. And you know, from the hour you’ve spent with this man it would be phenomenally filthy. The kind of sex that would ruin all men for you, but no. You had to be a good sister. Like a fuckin loser.

Sighing, you threw your body sideways before you could change your mind and ended up on your back. Javier followed you, caging you with his frame as he covered your body with his own. Gripping your face like he was a starving man and you were the only sustenance he’d ever need. It would be so easy to get lost in him, to give in to that magic tongue but you couldn’t let this go any further so you placed a hand on his chest.

Taking your cue he paused his tongues assault on your mouth and stopped, resting his forehead against your own. You were both breathing heavily trying to come back down to reality, his eyes were no longer the chocolate brown you’d been comforted by when you met, but rings of obsidian staring into your soul. You wanted this man, my god you did. But this would make more problems for Steve.

The two of you stayed that way for a while, foreheads and bodies pressed against one another until both of your breathing evened out. The silence dragged, heavy in the air as you two strangers both waited for the other to break it.

“...Is Steve okay?”

“...No... He’s been fuckin’ mess ever since Connie left.” Javier sighed whilst closing his eyes and breathing deep. You raised your hands from his chest, which was difficult as he was crushing his body to yours and cupped his cheek, you joined your lips once more, much like the first kiss. This was sweet and there wasn’t a carnal appetite behind it but rather an understanding.

The loud knock on the front door startles you both as you’d been so wrapped up in one another you’d not heard the steps leading to it. The two of you split apart like a pair of guilty teens caught in the act. You both stared at each other for a second before he nods at you and walks to the front door whilst rearranging his bulge discreetly in his jeans, this was something you pretended not to see as you sat back up right on the sofa. You had only a moment to fix yourself, as you pulled your tank top from where it was hooked by your breasts and ran your fingers through your hair so you didn’t look like you’ve just had the ravaging of a lifetime.

Javier pulled open the door and you clutch your hands into your lap, not quite sure what kind of reception you were about to receive from your brother. You hear the two men greet one another in hushed whispers, you couldn’t make out Steve's voice much until you hear his voice clear as day “...what the hell was so important it couldn’t wait until tomorrow?”

You stand from your spot on the sofa and quickly realise the button on your jeans is undone; if you’re honest you don’t even know how he managed to do that without you noticing, even though it's not the time you take a solitary second to commend Javier on his artistry of disrobing a woman. Turning quickly you pull the rivet back through the hole and swing around as Steve crosses the threshold from the hallway.

Steve looks from you, to Javier and then back to you once more in complete surprise. It takes his brain a hot second to process that you’re here in front of him and in Colombia before he rushes you. Clutching you tight and hugging you to his chest. You hear something that sounds suspiciously like a sob leave your brothers chest before he collapses into you. The front door and Javier’s bedroom both in rapid succession, giving you the privacy you knew your brother would need after breaking down like this.

You couldn’t support Steve’s weight with your considerably smaller frame and the two of you fell to the ground as you held your broken brother. His body shook with silent sobs as he buried his face in your shoulder.

You said nothing as you held him and stroked his hair. In that moment you thanked your every instinct that screamed at you to come to Colombia.

This had definitely not been a mistake.

Part Two

#javier pena x reader #javier peña x reader #narcos fic #pedro pascal x reader #I LOVE THE BLACK FUCKING SHIRT #narcos fanfiction #javier peña #murphy!reader

241 notes · View notes

kiki-shortsnout · 3 years ago

Note

Do you angsty Loki/Tony/Stephen HC? Like during and after battle?

‘On a scale of one to ten, where is he?’

‘In terms of being angry? Oh, he’s definitely in the triple digits,’ Stephen answered, lifting Tony’s chin so he could see the gash on his forehead better.

Tony clenched his hands on the bathtub, hearing his fingertips squeak on the plastic as he gripped it, throbbing shards of agony streaking up his arm.

‘Hey, don’t do that,’ Stephen whispered in a low voice, reaching out to clasp Tony’s wrist. He tugged gently until Tony relinquished his grip, settling the hand into Tony’s lap, careful not to aggravate the bruised, damaged fingers.

Tony bounced his feet on the floor, curling his toes on the bathroom mat, focusing his gaze on it as if that could somehow settle his frantic thoughts. ‘It wasn’t me being stupid,’ he seethed, the venom coated words seeping out from his clenched teeth.

Stephen chose not to answer, the intricate lattice of his mandalas appearing around his wrists. He gestured down to the sterile needle and thread he’d left on a tray beside the bathtub, the inanimate objects floating into the air towards Stephen’s hands.

‘Where are you on the scale?’ Tony asked, trying to blink away the blood dripping into his eye as he watched Stephen thread the needle, his hands unusually steady from the help of his magic.

‘Double digits,’ Stephen’s voice was curt as he lifted the needle up to Tony’s face. Some of the furious anger making the muscles tight in his face bled out as Tony flinched. Grinding his teeth together, he tried to hold himself still as he fought against the panic creeping up on him, desperate not to make Stephen angrier than he was.

His gaze focused on the Cloak floating beside the bathroom cabinet, ready to pass Stephen anything else he needed. He hated this, hated that both his lovers were furious with him, that the happy memories of the time spent in the Sanctum bathroom were now becoming tainted with his bad decision. This was a place where he shared early morning showers with them both, indulging in soapy giggling as they washed each other, steam fogging the glass from their intimate times. Even this tub he was sat on served as a treasured memory, a place for hot baths and whispering affections, lingering hugs after battles, reassurance as the warm water soothed the aches and pains away.

‘Why not get magic to sew me up?’ Tony asked, chuckling to try and break the tension, wincing at the pain in his ribs.

‘Because my hands are more precise,’ Stephen muttered, distracted.

He knew better than this, he really did. Pepper had chewed him out enough over the years about it. It had been one of the pivotal reasons they’d ended their relationship years ago, her citing his reckless behavior, his no sense of self-preservation. Even Rhodey had spent countless hours over the years screaming at him about it. Tony couldn’t help it, there was something ingrained in him after all his years of being Iron Man.

In the heat of battle his entire world had condensed down to one thing.

Loki.

His lover had been distracted, not seeing the blast of energy hurtling towards his back. Tony had. He had seen Loki’s broad, defenseless back, had already seen the civilians who had succumbed to the villain’s weapon, people they couldn’t bring back. In that split second, Tony had seen someone he cared about, someone he loved in danger.

And he had acted.

‘You really should go to the hospital for all of this,’ Stephen said, finishing his stitches. He stood up and took a step back to examine his handy work.

‘No! No-’

‘I know, no hospitals,’ Stephen appeased, seeing the grip terror had upon Tony at the mere mention of the word. He hated hospitals, needles, he was only just tolerating Stephen’s care because he trusted the man.

Trust Tony had probably shattered with his impulsive decision.

‘Let’s take a look at the rest of you, arms up please,’ Stephen ordered, tugging at the edge of Tony’s t-shirt.

Without thinking about it, he did as he was told, anxious to at least have one of them not mad at him. He was able to bite back the scream of pain as he lifted his arms, but his grasp over his body wasn’t as strong, his vision blurring around the edges as he pitched forward. Stephen leapt into action to catch him, and the panicked yelp of his name allowed Tony to shove aside the unconsciousness threatening, concentrating on the here and now.

Keep it together.

‘Are you alright? Sorry, I’m still in doctor mode…I forgot I can…just stay still, I’ve got you,’ Stephen whispered. Tony felt a ripple of magic and then his t-shirt was gone, cold waves of air licking at his skin. Stephen’s touch was gentle as he probed the enormous blackening bruises on Tony’s side, but he couldn’t help the wounded yelp escaping as Stephen brushed against something painful, the noise amplified by the bathroom walls.

They both heard something crash to the floor outside, and Tony saw a flash of green magic illuminate the space under the bathroom door before footsteps stomped away.

‘None of your ribs are broken, or fractured, but it’s going to be very painful for the next few days. I’ve got something that can help ease the pain,’ Stephen murmured, his eyes narrowing as he examined Tony’s fingers.

Despite trusting Stephen, he flinched away, holding his arm close to his body, afraid to let Stephen near it. He’d had so many injuries to his left hand over the years that it was now sensitive, a vulnerable part of himself that he didn’t like others touching.

‘Tony, sweetheart, it’s alright, you can trust me. Let me see it, please,’ Stephen begged, and Tony couldn’t work out why he was upset, why he had anything to be upset about.

Am I going to lose them over this?

Pepper had already ended their relationship with him because of this, and he hadn’t learnt, couldn’t control his impulses. If anything, he cared about these two stubborn assholes more, couldn’t bear to think about them leaving because of the same reason.

I’m sorry.

‘No breaks here either, a torn ligament possibly and a few stretched tendons, I’ll wrap it up later, don’t use it for a few days.’

Stephen stretched his hand out to the Cloak, taking the adhesive gauze pad it was holding. He gave Tony another once over before bending down on his knees, brushing back Tony’s bangs so he could apply the pad, sealing the wound.

He caught Stephen’s wrists as his lover went to move away, clutching them as hard as he could, even as his fingers pulsated with pain.

‘I’m sorry,’ Tony blurted, closing his eyes against his angry tears. ‘I saw he was in danger and I…I just-’

‘Look at me, Tony.’ Stephen brought his hands to Tony’s face, encouraging his damaged hand back down. ‘For a split second there, I thought I’d lost you,’ Stephen murmured, hand cradling Tony’s jaw, the tremor back in his grip now his magic was gone. ‘You were just lying on the ground, not moving. We heard your body hit the floor, heard the…’ Stephen couldn’t finish his sentence, closing his eyes as he swallowed thickly.

He surged forward, seizing Tony in a hug, cradling the back of his head as he held him close to his body, quivering with his pent up fear, his anger at Tony, his relief.

‘Jesus, Tony. I don’t think I’ve ever been so scared in my life.’

‘I’m sorry, I just…I saw him and-’

‘I know, sweetheart, I know. I would’ve done the same, for either of you,’ Stephen swore, stretching back so he could rest their foreheads together, inhaling shakily. ‘I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you.’

‘Me neither, but I know I’d always do everything in my power to save you both, even if that means flinging myself in front of some intergalactic laser beam from some wannabe villain,’ Tony joked, his own tears falling as he saw tears squeeze out from Stephen’s clenched eyelids.

They clutched each other, reassuring themselves that the other was alive and well, that despite Tony’s damaged and bruised state, they were both alive to fight another day.

‘Go talk to him. I can hear him pacing from here,’ Stephen murmured, leaning down to peck Tony’s lips with his own, careful of his split lip.

‘Alright.’ Tony got off the edge of the bathtub as he took a deep breath. He knew he had to face Loki, had to say sorry somehow, but suddenly the bathroom floor was looking like a great place to sleep on.

‘Tony?’ Stephen’s voice sounded like it was far away, and Tony tried to reach out for him, his arms feeling like they were wading through treacle. ‘Hold on, I’m going to put you in bed-’

‘No! I’ll never hear the end of it if he thinks I’m bedridden. Let me explain to him I’m fine and then we can go from there.’ Tony gritted his teeth as he hobbled out of the bathroom. He could do this, he’d defended the Earth against all sorts of threats, had been stabbed by Thanos and still managed to stand, he could make it to Loki.

The Sanctum hallway wavered for a moment, splashes of ruby from the rugs blurring together with the dark wood into a dizzying kaleidoscope of color and pain that Tony was victim to. A hand on his back centered him, forcing the world to stop spinning.

‘I thought I had to talk to Loki, alone?’ Tony questioned.

‘And last time I checked I was with you both? I might be mad at you too, but I’m not going to let you struggle all the way there,’ Stephen promised him.

Loki was pacing beside the oddly shaped window of the Sanctum, his arms clasped behind his back, his expression unreadable as he stamped.

‘Actually, the funhouse corridor is looking like a better option,’ Tony whispered, taking a step back into Stephen’s body.

‘I’m glad to see that you are in fact alive, despite my earlier conclusion,’ Loki snapped, coming to a standstill, his back to Tony.

‘Loki…I’m-’

‘Sorry? Sorry for putting yourself in danger? For not trusting me to watch myself in battle?

For making me think I’d lost you!’ Loki shouted, whirling on his heel and glaring at Tony. He could see blood staining Loki’s leather, knew it was his, could remember the terror on Loki’s face as he carried him away from battle, the way he frantically called his name.

Anthony! Please, Norns! I cannot…Stephen! Help me!

The words ricocheted around in his mind, Loki’s despair, his overwhelming fear of a few hours ago still potent in his memory. He met Loki’s gaze and any humor, any of his usual cocky brashness evaporated under the sheer fury radiating from Loki’s posture.

‘It was foolish of me to put my trust in you,’ Loki spat, his hands tightened into fists at his side, furious streaks of red straining his pale cheekbones.

Despite his shame, the pain coursing through his body like glass shards pumping through his veins, Tony took a challenging step forward, holding his ground even when he couldn’t quite see Loki clearly.

‘What did you want me to do? Stand there and let it happen?’

‘I expected you to trust me!’ Loki hissed.

‘And I do trust you! But in that moment, all I could see was that you were in danger! Someone I loved was in danger and I acted. I’m not sorry Loki, I’d do it again, a thousand times over if it would keep you safe!’

Loki’s frustration exploded from him in a blast of green energy. It washed over Tony and Stephen leaving them unaffected, but the glass cases of the artifacts shattered, flinging glass on the floor.

‘I did not ask you to sacrifice yourself like that for me. How do you think that would make me feel, how it would make Stephen feel if we lost you in such a way, you infuriating mortal!’

Tony tried to take another step forward, his brain trying to come up with a counterargument even as the world was pitching sideways, nausea scrabbling up his throat. It was all too much, the pain, the implications, and while he never backed away from a fight, Tony found that he couldn’t do it anymore.

‘Listen, I know you want to shout at me some more, hell you can punch me later if you want, and I know you’re trying to teach me a lesson right now, but could you please heal me? Can’t you take your anger out on me some other way?’ Tony begged as he crashed to one knee, sweat dripping off his body as he fell forward onto his uninjured hand.

‘What happened? I thought you said you could heal him! I knew I should’ve taken him to the healers at New Asgard!’ Loki shouted, suddenly beside Tony. He was rolled over onto his back, both of them looming over him with pale, waxen faces.

‘He needs rest Loki, he’s exhausted.’

‘Then why is he not in a bed!’ Loki demanded.

‘Because I’m sorry,’ Tony croaked, trying to rub his head against Loki’s leg, his limbs trembling as his body began to succumb to his exhaustion. Stephen lifted him, handing him over to Loki as he went to talk to the Cloak, barking instructions at it. Drained of any sort of fight, Tony went lax in the arms holding him, the jostling of Loki’s chest against his as he walked creating enough pain to keep him conscious, and he was ashamed of the guttural whine that escaped his mouth.

‘Put him down carefully and don’t aggravate him any further. You can shout at him later,’ Stephen instructed Loki, ready to chase the Asgardian out if he needed to.

Tony just wanted to sleep, wanted to burrow down into Stephen’s mattress and blankets and pass out, just so he could escape the pain and their wrath for a few hours. Cracking open his eye, he watched Stephen shut the blinds to his room, searching through his draws for something.

Loki made an intricate gesture with his fingers, and a ceramic pot fell out of thin air and into his palm. Opening the lid, a pungent smell pierced the air, a woodsy mint tang, almost like eucalyptus. Tony sucked in a sharp inhale through his teeth as Loki smeared the white salve over his ribs, his gaze flicking up in a tormented expression as Tony struggled to hold himself still.

‘You really thought… Anthony…you really believe I would punish you in such a way, that I would not heal you if I were able?’ Loki asked, fingers feather-light over his skin.

‘You’re really mad at me,’ Tony gasped, tossing his head back against the pillow at the flash of heat settling into his skin.

‘Loki’s magic doesn’t work in that way, he’s not a healer,’ Stephen explained, carefully settling on the bed on Tony’s other side, running his fingers through Tony’s hair.

‘No matter my anger, I would not punish you in such a way. Do you not think it pains me to see you like this, to know I did not do enough to prevent it, to be reminded of just how fragile you are!’ Loki angrily muttered. ‘Give me your hand.’

Just as he had with Stephen, Tony initially refused, wrapping his free arm around his elbow, hiding his hand away from them both.

‘Anthony…’ Loki gasped.

‘Loki, sweetheart, Tony’s had a lot of serious injuries to that hand, still suffers from some of the mental trauma. It’s not that he doesn’t trust you.’

‘Anthony, beloved, you can trust me. Listen to me, focus on your ribs, you must be able to feel the clutches of agony loosening their hold on you.’

Tony could, his breathing was easier, but he still held his arm close, his fear mingling with the old horrors of previous betrayals.

‘Tony?’ Stephen questioned.

‘Don’t leave,’ Tony whispered, ‘I’m sorry for what I did, for being who I am, but-’

Loki silenced him with a fierce kiss, holding Tony’s face in his hands, waiting until their gazes locked.

‘Nothing is worth your life, especially not mine,’ Loki told him viciously. ��I am honored by the depths of your love for me, touched that you find me worthy, but I am more resilient than you, stronger because of my heritage. There is not much in this universe that can harm me, but there is so much that can harm you,’ Loki told him, his eyes going filmy wet.

‘I can’t lose you, Lokes, can’t lose either of you.’ Tony stretched forward to kiss him again, tentatively offering his hand for treatment.

Loki took it, his touch tender as he applied the salve. Tony didn’t watch as he worked, nuzzling his face into Stephen’s chest, breathing him in, inhaling the lingering scent of battle and sweat.

‘Ah, took you long enough. Tony, I need you to sit up for a second, come on.’ He reached a hand beneath Tony’s head, encouraging him to sit up, supporting his weight. The Cloak dropped something into Stephen’s hand, draping itself over Tony’s legs, its collar fluttering at the bruises on Tony’s chest. ‘Open up, sweetheart.’

Tony did as he was asked, grimacing against the bitter pills placed on his tongue, fighting the urge to spit them out, glaring up at Stephen.

‘They’ll put you to sleep but they’ll help, I promise,’ Stephen swore, holding a glass of water to his lips.

‘Sorry,’ he croaked again once he finished drinking, scrunching his eyes up as Stephen lay him back down.

‘No, I am sorry for being angry, for fighting with you while you were injured, for making you believe that I would allow you to suffer in such a way. I wish I were a healer, that I did not have to watch you endure this alone.’

Tony flexed the fingers of his injured hand, laughing a little in relief as the pain receded to a dull ache. ‘Come lay down with me, I think I need sleep,’ he requested. He usually grumbled at how soft Stephen’s mattress was, preferring a firmer mattress, but right now it felt heavenly. He wriggled down further into the blankets, sighing loudly as both his lovers flanked him.

‘Sorry again,’ he whispered, holding back his tears as he felt twin kisses on his forehead.

‘Sleep beloved, we will watch over you,’ Loki told him, the edge of his finger stroking over the bridge of Tony’s nose.

‘We’ll tell you off when you wake up, douchebag,’ Stephen added, snaking an arm cautiously over Tony’s shoulders.

Despite the feeling of his battered body, Tony found himself falling asleep quickly, the sounds of his partners whispering, the soothing strokes to his body and the medication all sending him into a dreamless sleep.

#frostironstrange #Loki #Tony Stark #Stephen Strange #writing prompt #Ask #answered asks

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emma-d-klutz · 4 years ago

Text

IF I were to write a Maribat fic

It would be mostly a played for comedy and drama take on “Marinette picked up this whole Bat thing way too quickly.”

Like, post Miracle Queen, Marinette is just overtaken with so much guilt about Master Fu and is also desperate for a new mentor to be a replacement and a distraction from the blame she puts on herself and the burden of being the new Guardian. She is absolutely sure she is not ready to be in charge.

She calls Damian and asks for an audience with Batman. Damian is like, “Oh, isn’t this the girl who kicked me out of Paris? What was it you said? ‘No Gothamites in my city.’ Isn’t that what you said? Didn’t you say you can’t have our “type” of vigilante in Paris, because we’re too, what was it, overemotional? Is this that girl who is on my com right now? The one who rejected joining the Teen Titans? That’s you? You want me to TALK to my FATHER? I would barely ask him a favor for someone I actually LIKE.” Except then she kind of blows up at him and tells him the situation, and Damian gets real quiet and listens, and he feels a little sick because he’s remembering the Ric Grayson situation and also Alfred’s most recent death, which he ALSO blames himself for, so like... they got shit in common. He says he’ll talk to Batman about a video call.

Cut to three months later, Marinette has just THROWN HERSELF into being Batman’s disciple. She calls him Master. She practices fighting day and night out of the suit, and IN the suit she uses her powers for training and is often seen sprinting for miles or scaling the Eiffel Tower with only her upper body strength. She comes to school covered in bruises and with the darkest circles under her eyes, and her friends are WORRIED, they really are, but she’s like 80% less bubbly then usual, so no one is really confronting her and are just silently wondering what the heck happened. Most people assume that this has something to do with her taking Adrien and Kagami being an official couple really hard.

For fashion design, well. Marinette has gotten really into armor lately.... huh. (It’s because the Batfam encourages her to not rely on a magic suit that can turn off at the worse time, and she is convinced she must be prepared to be Ladybug at any and all times. If anything, she’s lamenting that she doesn’t know how to make weapons.) (She got a grappling hook styled like a yo yo as a present from Master Bat.)

She texts Kagami out of the blue one day like, >>Hey. Come over. I am in the process of making my masterwork >>Oh and bring a sword >>A sharpened one, not a training sword And Kagami comes over to see a twitchy (”ok that’s pretty normal”) super serious (”well that’s not. she’s usually so flighty and indecisive”) Marinette. And in the place where there was once an Adrian shrine and stalking schedule is now what seems to be a Hawkmoth shrine and stalking schedule. Marinette brings out what looks sort of like shiny silk with jewels woven in, and Kagami’s assumption is corrected. No. It’s a polymerized titanium she synthesized herself with light elemental defense crystals woven in by hand. Marinette is very proud. It’s a prototype. She plans on making a material that can be beautiful formalwear and as stab-proof as any kevlar. But it’s still a prototype so Kagami can you pretty please do some slashing and stabbing on it pretty please? See she wants it to be really good before giving it to her other Sword Friend, because Dami is a really harsh judge, and her motivation just won’t be able to take it if she gets notes from him this early on in the process. Kagami is actually really on board and helpful in this venture.

She does like indirectly ask Marinette if she’s heartbroken of if she’s with Luka or what have you, and Marinette just gets really harsh and says she has other priorities. She also makes some grandiose proclamation that neither of them are good enough for Adrien, because Adrien is pure goodness, he’s kindness and forgiveness personified, and it’s just... it’s just... it would be really clear to anyone who has ever heard Batman wax poetic about Superman where she is getting this highkey cringe behavior.

She’s on video calls with Batman all the time. They definitely have a conversation that goes something like this:

“I am certain the mean girl from my school is working for my main supervillain.” “Good. You can find him through her.” “Yess! I have been looking forward to the chance. I am going to interrogate her.” “Ladybug, no.” “I am going to tie her up with my yoyo and dangle her over the highest skyscraper in Paris and tell her I’ll drop her if she doesn’t tell me the identity and location of Hawkmoth.” “Befriend her at school and track her movements.” “Ok but wouldn’t it be quicker to dangle her off a building?” “You’re letting your emotions about someone from your civilian life interfere with your judgement and letting yourself act hastily and with negligence, which is exactly how you lost your first mentor.” “Ah....... you’re right. I’m sorry, Master. I won’t be reckless.” “Good. Tap her cell phone.”

As for Chat Noir, he is FREAKED OUT by her change and all the secrets she’s keeping now. And her behavior towards him has REALLY changed. Well not too much, but it’s noticeable in a way that unnerves him sometimes. Like she’s become a super serious workaholic, but she’s also insanely protective of him, to the point where he feels a bit resentful that he’s not being treated as a competent partner. He’s really trying to get Ladybug to talk out what she’s going through, and he’s anxious all the time that she’s on the cusp of becoming akumatized. Honestly, he’s not wrong on that part. He knows that this is all because she blames herself for Master Fu, and he is also aware that she is spending much more time in contact with that Robin from Gotham who they met once or twice, and he knows she’s keeping some secrets, but NO he is not aware for at least half of the story that she is being remotely trained by Batman. She’s telling him to shut up a lot more and bossing him around more and seems to know way more about Hawkmoth’s movements than him and it feels like he’s out of the loop, but she’s also, like, often spewing out how important he is to her as her partner and keeps giving him handmade pastries and saying, “An army crawls on its stomache,” so like honestly wtf mixed signals much

Batman agreed to mentor her temporarily and has been trying to find someone else from JL to take over, preferably Wonder Woman or Flash, because he agrees with Ladybug’s assessment that to be a hero in Paris it is necessary to have weaponized optimism, or Zatanna or Shazaam, because they could train Ladybug in her magic hopefully. He is told several times that it would be easier to get her mentorship if she agreed to join Teen Titans or Young Justice, which of course they all know, so thanks, but Ladybug would def refuse to leave Paris and her partner, so her joining YJ isn’t really up for discussion.

Flash said that she’s great but that, “She’s SUCH a Bat,” and that clearly she’s so attached to him that she should just stay one of his. Batman asserts that she is only being like this because she is desperate for a mentor, and if someone else took her on, she’d probably/hopefully change again just as fast. Flash says he isn’t so sure, and that at this delicate point in time, being handed off to someone else might, like, retraumatize her or smth.

Ladybug literally started breaking fingers interrogating someone.

It is on camera.

The LadyBlog is in SHOCK.

No one knows what to do.

Even Hawkmoth sees the video footage and is like, “Jeez, am I... Mayura, are we in over our heads here? Did we break the teen hero? Is this our fault?”

Anyway, those are all my favorite ideas of the ones I’ve daydreamed so far. There is also stuff about how she interacts with the other members of the Batfam and that she uses the Horse Miraculous to travel to Gotham to be trained in hand-to-hand and also to just sob for hours and scream at things because she CAN’T let her emotions out like that in Paris and the bafflement of the Batkids like “you... came to GOTHAM... to NOT repress your emotions. um, k.” And Cass loves her and thinks she is Baby Sister and if someone is mean to baby sister in front of her she will stare into your soul until you are quiet ect ect many ideas.

The reason this is an IF and not a WHEN:

dudes I have no plot

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