#and so any side that seriously considered building it would essentially force the other side to nuke them

[borldwuilding]

Cirute, or Judgement as he is often called in Common, is the God of Judgement and Balance.

Contributed with the creation of the high elves, Ciurte oversees his followers meticulously. The chief deity of the Riunivarmen religion, Ciurte employs the many intermediate and lesser gods who serve under him to execute his will and guide his followers in day to day life, allowing him to take on a bigger role in the scheme of the world. His church remains one of if not the largest congregation of followers of any religion or deity in Aanrah, and he takes great pride in it.

He claims his purpose as the grand arbiter of mortals and, if he had his way, immortals, and to maintain the balance of the world as such. He believes he should pass judgement over all before they pass through the claws of his so-called sibling, Evermore, the god of death and the afterlife. He takes his job with the utmost seriousness, and his wife Norve, the god of truth and justice, is often seen at his side.

(Cont. under the cut.)

Ciurte is not all who he pretends to be. Once a easily-unnoticed fledgling god at the beginning of the world, he tricked Eiylsweir into a bet that would allow him to essentially take over Eiylsweir’s position in reality, and succeeded. The singular being aware that of what happened, Ciurte keeps a sharp eye on Eiylsweir in the miraculous case he were to ever remember what happened - though by this stage, Ciurte doubts it would even matter. While he did not woo Norve originally, nor did he create the high elves, both have been his for far longer than they were ever Eiylsweir’s, and he considers both rightfully his at this stage.

While he maintains a certain façade to the world at large, Cirute plots for absolute power, aiming to rid himself of his two major rivals - Zwinwele and Yalidil Rana - without jeopardizing his persona. In a mechanical sense, while Ciurte would like to pass himself as truly neutral, he hangs in the neutral evil spectrum. He plays his pieces carefully, working to build a reliant following with a distrust for the others, while keeping his alliances close until he knows he can find a way to see to their demise without soiling his own claws.

Many of Ciurte’s most loyal followers could be considered militant, and despite the teachings of many of his underlings, force and a strict following of the rules is encouraged and often enforced. Though his interest in Norve has long burned out, he keeps her close under the same illusion as everyone else, knowing that she poses as a serious threat to him as much as she is a useful asset.

[jewishconvertthings]

Been getting some very interesting responses to my previous post about "de-conversion" and things to consider seriously before committing to Judaism.

There are a few things I'd like to add in light of that and also with further reflection.

First, part of why I, and many other Jews within branches that view halacha as binding, are so intense about this being a permanent decision is because our entire credibility as gerim hangs on that underlying assumption. Here's the thing: Conversion? As we understand it during the post-Temple period? Did not really exist before the exile. While there were definitely people who attached themselves to the Tribe of Israel in one way or another (most famously Ruth), biblically it was a lot more comparable to an LPR set up rather than having a true path to naturalization like we do now. The reasons for this as far as I know are primarily because of the way that land rights and tribes worked in the ancient world.

The exile forced the Jewish people who remained to reinvent themselves and Judaism - drastically - in order to maintain Torah and mitzvot outside of eretz Yisrael and without the Beit HaMikdash. And part of that involved creating a true path for naturalization. Or adoption, if that analogy works better for you.

It is, essentially, a legal fiction; created to recognize the reality of a person who is now family, yet who is not related by blood.

How is this valid? Well, the person has to have met all of the legal requirements and have "cast their lot in with the Jewish people, come what may." That's not a decision to make lightly, when the people whose lot you're choosing to share in is one that includes some form of oppression, expulsion, or mass killing in most generations. And similarly, right, wrong or indifferent, Jews are judged collectively, and so you better be certain about anyone you're bringing on board. This is definitely something that has the potential to go very, very poorly, and so the caution on both sides is warranted and real.

But! Once you're in? Once you've cleared those hurdles? You have to be in for good and it needs to be impossible to undo a conversion without a nullification of the conversion on its original merits, not based on post-conversion behavior. (And even this must be a very high standard of proof.)

Otherwise, it negates the whole concept of conversion and frankly peoplehood. If your status can be revoked and other Jews' statuses cannot be (even if they betray the entire community in serious ways) then in that first generation you have the problem where gerim could never relax, never feel fully a part of things, never truly have a home here. That's not conducive for shalom bayit and building strong communities. But then, in the subsequent generations after marriages have been made and new generations of children produced, you open up any Jewish person's lineage and status to questioning and subject them to 'purity' investigations. That is not a route I think many would want to go down in practice, because that's how you destroy group cohesion permanently.

When we, as gerim, sign up for this, we're staking our credibility on the solemnity and permanency of this legal fiction. How do we prove we're really, truly, 100% in it even when it is difficult, even dangerous or deadly? We do that by agreeing this can't be undone. That we are not fair-weather friends to the Jewish people but part of the people itself, such that our enemies will not distinguish among us, and neither will we.

That's a lot of words to say: I'm intense about this because permanency is the keystone of conversion. Without it, we're just tourists.

And on the other hand, yes, there are halachic Jews by birth who are extremely rude or dismissive of converts and conversion.

To them, I'd say this: Would you tell your brother's adopted child that he will never be your nephew, actually, and intentionally exclude him in favor of your blood-related nephews and nieces? Would you walk up to a naturalized citizen and tell them that they'll never be real Americans and will always just be immigrants? Would you walk up to your rabbi, who has sponsored students for giyur, and tell him that he is making a mistake and is an idiot for trying to make a gentile into a Jew? If not, why not? Because treating Jews who have completed their conversions as interlopers is basically doing all of those things at once.

Lastly, I'd say this: if you find yourself in a community that is hostile to gerim and you haven't finished yet, I'd honestly recommend waiting and joining a different community, even if that means moving and/or rearranging your life around it. If it's important enough to you to do that, it will be worth it. If you have finished your conversion, I'd still say do your best to get away from that community and join a better one, for your own health and sanity. When I moved, I chose my next location extremely carefully so that I could be in a good community; that is still in the forefront of my thoughts if I were to ever move again. With something as serious a commitment as this, it's not unreasonable to expect that you will need to adapt your life around it, similar to, again, planning your major life decisions around whoever you consider your family. An adopted son moving jobs and states to take care of his ailing adoptive mother isn't more surprising to anyone than a biological son doing so, is it? And on the flip side, choosing to live near your father's side of the family that accepts you and your partner instead near your mother's side that rejected you isn't particularly surprising either, no?

This is not to say that gerim in difficult communities or circumstances are responsible for those communities' bad behavior and xenophobia. Obviously I'm not saying that. I'm simply trying to give you a framework for understanding and making the decision to make other major life choices around this previous major life choice - that it is serious and it is valid. If you, like me, make choices about where to live based on the relevant laws and available local communities and commodities as an LGBTQ+ person, it's similarly not crazy or frivolous to make choices that center or at least seriously consider your Jewish needs as well.

I understand not all can just up and leave. And related to that, I understand that this advice is extremely US-centric, because that is where I live and what I know. I understand that moving countries is a way more serious choice than moving states. I understand that waiting sucks and may even suck more than people's exclusion. These are all things you should discuss with your conversion rabbi before you complete your conversion. And if you are done converting, it's still not a bad idea to reach out to your conversion rabbi if you are struggling, because they should understand your situation well already.

But leaving one community for a better community, if it's possible (even if it's a serious decision)? Is worth considering, if your current community is toxic and treating you poorly.

[alpacaparkaseok]

The Pact: Date #2

Pairing/Genre: OT7 BTS x reader (not poly), idol!BTS, best friend BTS

Word Count: 6.4k

Premise: The truth about the pact the boys have about you has been revealed. What happens when you agree to go on a single date with each of them?

Warnings: none, so much fluff (adkshdaslkfj...yeah. fluff.)

a/n: please, if you feel ok with it, let me know how this date was! Remember, you guys are deciding the outcome. Every little bit of feedback, even if it’s just unintelligible screaming, helps. I’d be very interested to hear your thoughts on how this date differed from last week’s!

Date #2

series masterlist ∆∆∆ join the taglist

It’s safe to say that by this point, you’ve replayed last Saturday’s date in your mind about sixty thousand times. Yet, despite your near-constant analysis, you find that you’re no more prepared for today’s date than before.

Perhaps it has something to do with the way it was described last week, giving you a little insight to how different this date would be compared to the relaxed atmosphere before.

Classic. Romantic. Picture perfect.

Your mind races with the possibilities; heaven knows that could be any of the boys. But you can’t help but expect one in particular to appear on your doorstep.

You shuffle back and forth before your mirror, triple checking your reflection. Jungkook texted you earlier this week with some instructions.

Dresscode was set to casual-nice. Whatever that means.

Make sure you’ve got your T-money card, which gives you access to the Subway.

Your green sweater vest is tucked neatly into your black skirt, giving you a posh academia vibe that you’ve honestly been dying to try out for a while. Hair falling in thick ringlets around your shoulders, the look is complete with black suede boots that only extend up to your ankle.

“Oh yeah,” you grin at your reflection. “I look good.”

And just there, resting atop the sleeves of your turtleneck, sits Hobi’s bracelet. The word ‘jagi’ is facing the ceiling, which is enough to soften your smile, remembering Hobi’s sweet date.

You’d gotten Jungkook’s permission to send a little message to Hobi, thanking him profusely for the date. It’d been fun to get to chat with him for a minute, already missing him. If you’re honest with yourself, you miss hanging out with all of them. It’s only been a couple of weeks since you were last all together, but it feels like months.

The upside to this Saturday is the fact that (after you’d sent some choice texts to Jungkook), you were given a time as to when your date would appear. Which is why you’re sitting on the edge of your seat at six o’clock ticks ever closer, waiting for the tell-tale knock on the door.

Every time a car turns onto your street, you’re leaping up to peek out the window, holding your breath until it passes by. However, this time you find yourself nearly passing out as a sleek black car rolls to a stop in front of your house.

You lose all ability to think straight when Kim Taehyung steps out of the car, straightening his beige cable knit sweater and puffing his cheeks out as he exhales. His black hair tumbles into his eyes, just long enough to brush up against his brows and make him brush it away.

Stumbling back from the window before he can see you spying on him, you bring a hand up to your chest.

“Ok, ok,” you rush to compose yourself. “Holy-”

A happy knock on your door cuts you off, and the only thing you can hope for is that you don’t say something stupid within the first sixty seconds of this date. If you can make past the first sixty seconds, you should be good, right?

Right?

You don’t have time to ponder as you force yourself to take a deep breath and open up the door. Sure enough, there stands Taehyung. Looking like he just stepped out of a French renaissance painting, complete with a smile.

A smile that’s meant for you, you realize with no shortage of shock. Grinning at you while he tilts his head to one side, his hair falls across his face from it’d been semi-parted.

“Hi, my name is Kim Taehyung,” he taps his heels together and extends his hand out. As he swoops into a bow, you can’t help the giggle the bubbles up at the silly scene before you. Gently placing your hand in his, you watch with wide eyes as he brings it to his lips. Planting a soft kiss to your knuckles, he looks up at you from behind his hair. “And you are?”

At this point, you’ve realized that there’s no stopping the mad blush crawling up your neck. Attempting to shake it off with a laugh, you shake your head.

“Are you lost or something?”

Taehyung gasps, stepping back and nearly tumbling down the stairs. “C’mon!” He groans, his smile never faltering. “I was trying to be classy!”

Shrugging, you grab your bag equipped with the essentials (keys, chapstick, mints...more mints), and lock the door behind you. Linking your arm through Taehyung’s and delighting in the momentary surprise that graces his features, you smile up at him.

“Where to, Mr. Kim?”

“Ah! That’s better.” The two of you make it to the car, Taehyung opening the passenger side before hustling over to the driver’s side. Once he’s in and buckled up, he answers your question. “Choose a number between one and ten.” Coming to stop at a stop sign, he looks to you expectantly.

“One.”

He raises his brows, making a show of turning the blinker on to signal turning right. “Good choice. We’ll get there in about...twelve minutes.” You nod, smiling softly. “How have you been?”

“Good. It’s been weird, not getting to hang out with everyone,” you admit. Tae hums in agreement.

“Yeah, it’s been weird not seeing you around the house. What have you been up to?”

The two of you get lost in conversation, relating your most recent horror stories from work or your classes. Taehyung listens raptly, snorting when you mention that you considered bringing your homework with you on the date.

“Seriously!” You laugh. “There’s so much of it. I swear, my professors have all ganged up on me.”

Tae turns into a closed off parking lot, swiping a small card in front of the monitor and pulling forward when the gates swing open. “Well, I’m glad you didn’t. Hopefully I keep you entertained enough to keep you from doing homework,” he teases.

You gape at the huge building before you, the architectural design enough to have your mouth running dry. It looks like it was taken straight out of ancient Greece, the pillars stretching up high and boasting chiseled divots. Leading to the entrance is a path of hanging wisteria, the soft purple petals swaying in the breeze.

In fact, if you hadn’t currently been sitting in a car that was definitely a product of the 21st century, you would have thought that you’d accidentally time-traveled.

Taehyung’s soft chuckle brings you back to reality, and you watch as he throws the car in park and rushes around to open your door before you even have time to twitch a muscle. You find yourself torn between gaping at the building and the man in front of you, as he extends a hand out to you and pulls you out of the car.

“What is this place?” You ask, afraid to even blink for fear of everything disappearing. Tae gently links your arm through his, which in retrospect was probably a good idea. Heaven knows you’re at risk of wandering off and never returning.

The evening sky does wonders for Taehyung, the sleepy golden sunlight settling over him. “It’s a project that’s been in the works for a long time, actually. They’re bringing together different artworks - some are replicas that they’ve been permitted to use - from all over the world. The best of the best, all in one place.” He runs a hand through his hair, looking up as you enter the small tunnel of hanging wisteria. “It’s not open to the public yet, they just finished moving the final pieces last week.”

You blink, looking up at one of your closest friends with awe. Squeezing his arm, you take a moment to pause and look around at all the beautiful wisteria.

“I’m friends with some of the curators here,” Tae explains when he catches your eye. “They said we could have a look around...if you want to…?”

In response, you wiggle out of his grasp and take off toward the entrance, Taehyung laughing and hurrying after you.

The art museum is, in a word, massive. The two of you fall into a companionable silence as you take in the artwork, occasionally wandering away from each other to get a closer look at something. Every so often Taehyung will call your name, motioning for you to look at a piece he especially likes.

There’s a point where Taehyung is trying to explain the difference between the replicas and the real oil paintings. “See, this one doesn’t have the same kind of sheen, so it’s obviously fake.” He reaches out to touch it, but freezes as soon as his fingers touch the painting.

“What?” You ask, craning your neck to see. He turns to face you with a horrified expression.

“It’s real.”

You choke a laugh, seeing the way he slowly removes his hands from the painting as though afraid to set off a bomb. “You’re joking.”

He shakes his head, looking up and down the hallway before whispering to you. “Run. They’ll kill me if they find out that I touched that thing with my bare hands. It’s like...three hundred years old or something.”

“Wha-”

“Split up!” He hisses, taking off down the opposite end of the corridor. Heart pounding even as you laugh, you run the other way. Taehyung’s laugh bounces off the walls, only making you laugh even more.

It doesn’t take long before the sun has dipped below the horizon and the two of you find yourselves in a spot dedicated to different sculptures. Sitting down on the bench in front of them, you realize just how long you’ve been up and running around.

“Wow,” you breathe out, Taehyung grunting in agreement. “So you weren’t caught?”

“Not yet, at least.” He fidgets a little beside you before speaking again. “Actually, there’s one more thing left to do here.”

You glance over at him, delighted to see that his hair has somehow grown even fluffier over the course of the date. “What is it?”

“Let me show you.” He hops up, leading the way to the end of the corridor. He enters a small room that’s completely empty save for a white backdrop and a camera.

He walks to the camera, making sure it’s on before gesturing for you to walk before the backdrop.

“Think of it like one giant photo booth,” he explains. “Pose, and I’ll choose a backdrop for you.”

You chew on your lip, feeling a little awkward as you stand before the camera. “What should I do? I’m not used to people taking pictures of me.”

Taehyung frowns. “What do you mean? I take pictures of you all the time.”

Against the start white backdrop, there’s no chance he doesn’t see your blush. “No, er...not like that. I’m not used to posing.”

“Oh.” He steps back, crossing his arms. “Just...smile?”

He snaps a few photos before rushing over to a small printer. You wander over as well, laughing when you see what’s become of your photos.

There you are, smiling awkwardly where Mona Lisa usually sits in her painting. “Oh, that’s horrible.”

“Da Vinci would love it,” Taehyung objects.

“Here, I’ll take your picture.” You run over to the camera while Taehyung steps up front, placing both hands on his hips while looking off into the distance. Selecting the ‘Starry Night’ background, you take the picture.

“Oooh, very nice!” Tae croons when he sees the photo. “But I want both of us in this.”

“What do you mean, both? There’s only enough room for one-”

“We’ll make it work,” Taehyung says as he drags you in front of the camera. Fiddling with it for a moment, he turns back to you. “Ok, it’s set to take four photos in a row. Stay still.”

“How are you going to…?” Your words fade out as a light in the camera begins to blink, counting down. Taehyung comes around you, slipping his arms around your waist as he rests his chin on your shoulder.

Just as the camera flashes for the first photo, Taehyung decides to try his hand at tickling you mercilessly.

You squeal, trying to get away but unable to as Tae keeps his iron-like grip on you. “Stay still!” He scolds in a serious tone, even as a smile is pushing its way onto his lips.

“S-stop!” You can hardly breathe as the attack continues and the camera flashes again. “Tae! You horrible human being-”

Suddenly he drops the attack, standing up straight and smiling at the camera. You take the opportunity just as the final flash goes off to shove him, laughing maniacally. He shouts, stumbling backward dramatically. Taking the temporary distraction to your advantage, you hurry over to where the pictures are being printed. As each photo comes out, you can hardly hold back your laughter.

Picking up the first photo, taken just as Taehyung had decided to attack you, you turn around to face him. “Look at how evil you look here!”

He saunters over, a lazy smile on his face. “Oh-ho, classic.”

Sure enough, the other photos are just as entertaining, although you can’t help but groan at the second photo which shows you with a mixture of laughter and annoyance as Taehyung fights a smile. “Oof, this one isn’t the most flattering…”

“Does that mean I get to keep it?” Taehyung asks quietly, taking the photo from your hands and looking at it closely. “You look cute.”

You blink, but shrug it off. Taehyung has always been a bit more forthcoming with his flirtatious manner, but it’s just now that you realize there was actually some sort of truth behind all of those silly remarks over the past few years.

Huh.

Taehyung checks the time, looking up at you with wide eyes. “Oh, we have to hurry!”

“Why?” You manage to ask before Taehyung takes off in a brisk walk. He grabs your hand, giving you no choice but to try to keep up.

He doesn’t directly answer your question. “You brought your T-money, right?”

“Yeah...but why?”

“Why do I feel like we’re going to get in trouble for this?”

“We won’t. I will.” Taehyung doesn’t look the least bit bothered as he slips a hat on over his hair. “That is, if we get caught.”

“So no pressure.” You say sarcastically, wishing you had some sort of invisibility cloak.

You never knew that the subway could be such a rush. It’s a Saturday night, people are filing in and out of the Subway at a rapid pace as they chat jovially together. Taehyung keeps his head down, attempting to blend in and completely failing.

“Tae, you’re going to be recognized.”

He shrugs. “I do this all the time. Hasn’t happened yet.”

You furrow your brows. “You do? I had no idea.”

“It’s nice to pretend to be normal every once in a while,” he confesses, looking down at his phone. “Just don’t tell anyone. It’s a secret I’ve managed to keep for years.”

“I won’t. Promise.”

Pulling up the timer app on his phone, he grins mischievously at you. “Ok. We have 60 minutes to get to three different places.” He holds up his phone for you to see. “First, we’re going to that night market you hit up all the time to get Tteok-bokki, which you love probably way too much-”

“Hey! It’s a healthy obsession!” You defend yourself, only earning an eyebrow raise in return.

“Whatever you say, weirdo. Then, we’re going to that walnut shop - you know the one at the end of the line?”

“We’re going to a walnut shop?”

“Yeah. Namjoon’s got this new obsession with them, so I promised I’d pick some up for him”

You snort. “Ok, and the last spot?”

Taehyung lowers his phone, toggling the timer to 60 minutes and looking at you and chuckling. “It’s a surprise. You ready?”

“Wait, how on earth are we supposed to get to all of these places within an hour?” You ask, incredulous. “Especially if we’re stopping to eat or buy stuff?”

Finger hovering over the start button, Taehyung looks around the busy subway station. “We hurry.” With that, he links his hand with yours and begins the timer. “Run!”

Taking off like thieves on the run, you swipe your T-money card and hurtle past the barrier, rushing to see which line to take. “It’s the red line, right?” You ask, roles switching as it’s now you dragging Taehyung behind you. “Hurry! It’s already here!”

Rushing over to where the red line train is just pulling in, you leap through the doors as soon as they open. Taehyung is right behind you, and the two of you stand off to the side with your faces down and trying to hide your giggles. He leans down to whisper something in your ear, your head automatically tilting to hear him better.

“Keep an eye out for our stop,” he urges, squeezing your hand. You nod, remaining on high alert even as you’re bursting with excitement. You know that if anybody found out that you and Taehyung were out here, looking very much like a couple, you would be toast.

The rush goes straight to your head, pumping you full of adrenaline as your stop approaches. A thought hits you, and you hurry to voice it before you have to jump out and run.

“How are we going to get you through the night market without being recognized?”

“Oh,” Taehyung angles his body toward the door, preparing. “I talked with the owner of the stall you go to. He promised to have the food ready and waiting for us, we just have to meet him in the back.”

You still have no idea how you’re going to make it through the market without being recognized, but there’s no more time for questions as the train slows to a stop and the doors slide open. In a single heartbeat the two of you leap out and take off toward the stairs that will lead you out into the night air.

It’s embarrassing just how much you’re panting by the time you reach the top of the stairs, but you shrug it off as you see the huge crowd mulling outside of the market. Without giving you a single second to doubt, Taehyung plunges into the crowd.

The two of you weave in and out, a startled laugh coming from you as the two of you pass by a stall filled with BTS merchandise. Taehyung hesitates for a moment, almost looking like he wants to stop in, but thinks better of it.

The people around you are so focused on the different stalls and their night out that they pay you no mind as you pass by, bumping into people with every step you take. If only they knew that it was Kim Taehyung bumping into them.

He never lets go of your hand as you make your way to your favorite food stall, for fear of losing you in the crowd. Glancing back at you, Taehyung shouts above the din.

“It’s been almost eight minutes!”

You nod, once again wondering how on earth you’re going to make it to all the places Taehyung has planned. Your mouth runs a little dry as you see the long line of people waiting at the food stall, all of them wanting a taste of the delicious tteok-bokki. Going in a wide circle around the crowd, the two of you end up behind the stall where it’s surprisingly empty.

Taehyung wraps on the back entrance, loud enough to be heard over the loud night. A moment later an elderly man sticks his head out, eyes crinkling with a smile as he sees the two of you.

“Ah, I was just wondering when you’d be showing up! Let me grab your order.” He winks at you guys before disappearing back into the little stall. You take a moment to breathe, looking up at the starry sky. Taehyung joins you, smiling softly.

“Why 60 minutes?” You ask quietly. Taehyung shrugs.

“I make this run whenever I can,” he responds quietly. “I’ve never been able to do it in less than an hour. Thought that it’d be fun to try to break the record with you.”

You laugh quietly. “How come I didn’t know that about you? Why didn’t you invite me before?”

Taehyung runs a hand through his hair, his other hand still hanging loosely in yours. “The pact.” When you look at him with a confused expression, he goes on. “Think about it: have you ever hung out with any of us just one on one? At least, intentionally?”

You frown, running through your memories. “I mean, yeah, but-”

“Intentionally, though.”

Automatically your thoughts run to the memory of Hobi and that night you’d vented in his car for a solid two hours, tears running down your face. Or that time you’d gone shopping with Taehyung, that was intentional wasn’t it?

“We went shopping that one time,” you say.

“Yeah, but that was an emergency of sorts. Remember? You’d spilled on your shirt and had an interview for your internship soon,” he reminds you. “I took you shopping and dropped you off after.”

You remember that, but there were other times that you just spent time with one of the boys on purpose, right? Taehyung sees your thoughts, giving you another example.

“And that time you sat and talked with Hobi in his car for hours? He’d seen you walking and offered to give you a ride. That obviously wasn’t planned.”

You blink. “How did you know about that?”

Taehyung turns a little pink under the starlight, realizing that he wasn’t supposed to know that. “Hey, it’s not my fault. He wouldn’t shut up about it. But that’s not the point!” He quickly tries to backtrack, mussing his hair yet again.

“Right,” you sigh. “So what does that have to do with the pact? And what does the pact have to do with you and this weird route of yours?” You laugh, Taehyung chuckling nervously along with you.

He opens his mouth to respond, but at that moment the door opens and the same old man appears with a bag of your food. “Here you go!” He happily hands it over to Taehyung, who thanks him and hands him the money and thanks him profusely. You also thank him, smiling warmly.

As soon as the door shuts again, Taehyung is leading you back out into the crowd. He keeps a firm grip on the food, and you stare at it longingly. The two of you manage to make it out of the crowd without any complications, except for the fact that you had to drag Tae away from the merchandise booth.

Descending the stairs to the subway, you glance over at the food again. “Are we gonna eat that, or…?”

He squints at the screen that shows the different lines and arrival times. “We have four minutes before the yellow line gets here.” Stopping at the bottom of the stairs and standing off to the side, he hands you your food, chuckling as you tear into it. He shares it with you, devouring the food at an alarming rate.

It’s embarrassing to say that the two of you finish it with thirty seconds to spare.

“Wow,” you groan, rubbing your stomach as Tae throws the container away. “We’re messed up.”

He chuckles at you, checking the timer. “That, we are. But it was good, right?”

“Ugh, so good. I swear, that place is magic.”

This time, instead of running to the platform, you waddle. You get there just before the doors close, sliding in between the door and pole, which you cling to. Taehyung stands across from you, resting against the pole as well and smiling.

“Ready to go buy some walnuts?”

The question has you giggling. “Definitely.”

You fall into a comfortable silence, waiting for your stop to arrive. The walnut shop sits on the other end of the line, one of the final stops. It takes a few minutes to get there, each second ticking down. Once there’s only one stop left before you have to get off, you ask Taehyung to check the timer.

He raises his brows. “We’re making pretty good time. Thirty minutes left.”

“Nice!” You give him a high five, smiling simply because he is. “Let’s get these walnuts!”

Nevermind the fact that people listening in to your conversation think you’re crazy.

Once you make it to your stop, the two of you settle for a brisk walk rather than running. Together, you walk down the street hand in hand while trying to find the walnut shop.

“You never finished explaining that thing about the pact,” you recall. You’d nearly forgotten amongst the rush of eating and the sleepy subway ride after. Taehyung glances down at you, almost looking a little bummed out that you remembered.

“Oh...right.” He stops on the corner and presses the crosswalk sign. “Well, that’s one of the things about the pact. I never invited you to come along with me because I couldn’t. It doesn’t allow for intentional one-on-one activities.”

“You know how weird that is, right?”

He snorts. “Yeah, I know. But that’s how it is, I guess. All of those other times you were with any of us, alone, it wasn’t on purpose. It just worked out like that. You know, something about keeping everything even. And, spending too much time alone with you would probably lead to breaking the pact.”

Nodding, you tuck this information away for further examination. “Sounds like you guys thought of everything.”

“Almost.”

“Ok,” you begin to cross the quiet street, this side of Seoul starkly different in comparison with the busy night market. “So what does this route have to do with any of that? Why did you even start doing this in the first place? It’s...all over the place.”

Taehyung chews on the inside of his cheek. “Well...oh! We’re here!”

You roll your eyes as Taehyung bounds up the stairs of the walnut shop, which appears to be nearly closed. Why they’re still open at this time of night is beyond you. Do they really have people coming out to buy walnuts at all hours of the night?

The little shop is warm, and the young girl behind the counter looks anything but shocked as Taehyung enters. She immediately leans down to grab a small bag, placing it in front of her.

“Just the one bag?”

You pause to wonder just how many times Taehyung has frequented this shop for the employees to be so familiar with him. The thought makes you smile, picturing Taehyung sneaking in here late at night just to feed Namjoon’s odd walnut addiction.

“Just the one should be fine,” Tae responds, looking at you over his shoulder with a warm look. You don’t notice it, lost in your own thoughts as you wander over to a display.

Once he’s finished with the transaction, he wanders over to you. “Looks like we might just make it.”

You turn around, looking at him expectantly. “How much time is left?”

“Sixteen minutes. Let’s go,” he holds out his arm for you, which you rest your hand on the inner crook of his elbow. Bidding the girl goodnight, the two of you wander back out into the night.

“Soooo...where to next?”

Taehyung shakes his head. “I told you, it’s a surprise.”

The subway on this end of the city is much less crowded, it’s easy to find the blue line and hop on. You realize that you’re heading back to a stop fairly close to the night market, which makes you wonder.

“Why’d we go to the end of the line before this?” You ask. “It would’ve been much quicker to go here second.”

“Because,” Taehyung sits beside you, stretching his legs out. “It’s a spot that you can’t rush in. It’s meant to be the final destination.”

Giggling a little, you nudge him. “That sounds a little morbid.”

The Han River glistens from your viewpoint atop the bridge. Sitting next to Taehyung, your feet dangling off the edge, you take a deep breath.

“I see why this had to be the final stop,” you say as you breathe out. The entire Han River lays at your feet, the city lights bouncing off the surface and creating a dazzling atmosphere to rival that of the stars above you. People walk along the edge or ride bikes, their small figures making you realize just how high up you are.

“Mmm,” Taehyung hums beside you. He leans back, glancing over at you as you take in the view. “This is always the last stop.”

You take a moment to allow the sounds of the night wrap around you, tilting your head up to the stars and watching them wink down at you. A profound contentment settles over you, a smile playing on your lips.

“And my last question?” You mumble out. “What’s so special about this route?”

The quiet moment seems to be enough to urge Taehyung to finally answer you. He sits up, admiring the way you look, sitting here on top of the world.

“About a year ago, we all talked about the normal, everyday things you like to do. What we would like to do.”

“I remember,” you muse. “You guys were talking about what you’d do if you weren’t famous. Romanticizing the mediocre.”

“Right.” He slings his arms over the railing, looking out over the people enjoying their Saturday night. “You talked about how you always go to that night market to get tteok-bokki. You basically swore by that one stall, it was hilarious. But you looked so...I don’t know, I just remember thinking, I’ve never seen someone so happy about some cheap night market food. But it made me happy. And then you said that you like to grab your food and head out to the Han River. Enjoy the evening with some good food and a view.”

A slight breeze picks up, ruffling Taehyung’s hair. He hardly notices, wearing an adorable look of concentration as he continues. “And that just seemed...I don’t know, it became this thing for me. Those late nights at work or when we were away, I’d always stop and wonder if you’d gotten to do what made you so happy. But then, I realized that it wasn’t enough for me to just sit and wonder. I wanted to- I wanted...to be there with you.”

Your breath hitches in your throat as you catch sight of the faraway look in his eyes. How many times had he stopped and wondered if you had gotten to do something that made you happy? Sitting beside this man who is such a force for good, you find that you are entirely out of your element.

“So, whenever I had a chance in the evenings, I’d make up an excuse about picking up some more walnuts for Namjoon’s stash, and I’d head out. They told me to be back in an hour, hence the sixty minutes. But I’d take the train to the night market, go straight to that stall and pick up some tteok-bokki. I knew that I couldn’t just call you up and ask to go with you, and I was kind of selfish and didn’t want the other guys to come along. It was...I don’t know, I wanted it to be our thing. So I’d go there and hope I’d run into you. Make it look like an accident, so we could hang out. Just the two of us.” He laughs quietly to himself. “I sound like a stalker, don’t I?”

You only manage to shake your head, at a complete loss for words. Taehyung continues on, feeling the need to get it all out.

“In my mind, I thought that it would at least take you about fifteen or so minutes to get from the night market to the Han, so I’d run down to grab the walnuts and then head up here,” he gestures to the bridge. “And I’d look out and see if I could spot you. Maybe run down to meet you, pretending to bump into you. Give me...an excuse to see you.”

Taehyung glances over at you for a minute, looking a little embarrassed. You stare back, the shock evident on your face.

“Really?” It’s the only word you manage to get out. He smiles gingerly, huffing out a breath.

“Really. Does it creep you out?”

You snort, scooting over a little closer. Taehyung instinctively wraps an arm around your shoulder, pulling you against him.

“No.”

“No?”

Taking a deep breath, you take a leap. “Am I allowed to tell you that I sometimes wished I’d run into you?”

Taehyung tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear, looking at you with an indescribable emotion. “I don’t think you should.”

You frown. “Why not?”

The moon and the stars as your only witness, Taehyung gives you a long look before leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead. He lingers for a few seconds, his warm lips reminding you of spring after a bitter winter.

When he pulls away, he gazes down at you and you just know that he’s memorizing this moment. Tucking it away for a rainy day, similar to the rain clouds behind his eyes. “I’m scared of hoping.”

In the span of five syllables, he’s completely shattered your heart. It’s now that you recognize that look in his eyes.

How many nights has he sat up here, waiting for you to come along? Hoping that you’d bump into him at the night market, delighted to see him?

Hope can be just as devastating as it is uplifting.

Taehyung sees how you’re dying to reassure him, dying to just give your heart over to him at that moment. He knows it, sees how it could play out. But before you can open your mouth, he’s stopping you.

“For now, let’s just enjoy the view and try to stay warm,” he murmurs, pulling you impossibly closer. You rest your head against his shoulder, heart still aching from his small confession. “Don’t worry, jagiya. Just remember to have fun, ok? You’ve still got five dates, don’t forget that.”

How could you?

Time ticks by all too quickly as the two of you remain snuggled up together atop the bridge. Eventually you fall into a quiet conversation, Taehyung chatting happily about how he had a mini crisis on night when he came on this route and Namjoon complained about having not finished the walnuts from last night. He’d had to find some other sort of enticing treat that would act as a cover for him.

“When it comes down to it,” he says as the two of you enter the subway and find a seat. “I didn’t want the boys to find out, because I didn’t want them to think I was going behind their backs. They all deserve a chance, and me trying to find a way to bend the rules wouldn’t have gone over well.”

You marvel at how perfectly his hand fits in yours, sighing contentedly as the subway rumbles on. “You always have been a rule-breaker.”

You’re exhausted from having run all over Seoul, nearly falling asleep as you get back to Taehyung’s car. He grins at you, turning on the heater and beginning the drive back to your apartment. Your eyes struggle to remain open, slipping closed every few seconds.

“Sleep, jagiya,” Taehyung urges. “I’ll wake you up when we get there.”

“N-no,” you say between yawns. “I’m fine.”

Taehyung chuckles to himself when you fall asleep about thirty seconds later. The sound drifts into your dreams, where you dream of art museums and the Han river.

Needless to say, you’re a bit disappointed to be woken up from your beautiful dream when Taehyung opens up the passenger side door and crouches before you. He can’t help but laugh at how adorable you look, completely disoriented and staring at him like you can’t quite place where you’ve seen him before.

“Hey,” he whispers. “We’re home.”

Gently unbuckling your seatbelt, Taehyung helps you out of the car and only continues to laugh as you wrap your arms around his waist and bury your head in his chest.

“I’m so tired,” you groan. “I wanna go to bed.”

“Well, you can. You just have to unlock your door first, jagi.”

Somehow, in your half-asleep state you manage to fish your keys out of your bag. Taehyung helps you unlock the door, swooping in to help you when you nearly trip over your doorway.

“Woah, watch where you’re going,” he teases. Suddenly the world turns sideways as Tae places his hands under your knees and around your waist, literally sweeping you off your feet. “How about we get you to bed in one piece?”

Some small, semi-conscious part of your brain is currently screaming about how embarrassing yet attractive this entire situation is, but for the life of you, you can’t tell why. Instead, you opt to nuzzle in a little closer to Tae’s sweater as he uses his foot to kick the door shut.

“I love this sweater,” you mumble, eyes falling shut again. “You look so good in this sweater, did you know that?”

“Oh...thanks. And yes, that’s why I wore it.”

You hiss, swatting at his chest. “That was very narcissistic of you.”

“You’re too tired to walk, but you’re using words like narcissistic?” He shoots back. Making his way through the dark house, he enters your room and sets you down on the edge of the bed. You sit up straight, watching as his silhouette turns on your bedside lamp. Squinting at him, he crouches down before you, resting a light hand on your knee.

“Thank you,” you whisper.

“You’re welcome,” he whispers back. “You need anything before I go?”

Always finding a way to push the limits, you smirk down at him. “Are kisses really off-limits- ow!” You rub your knee where he just flicked it, appalled at him as he straightens up.

“Don’t get greedy,” he teases with a raised brow. Heading out of the room, he turns back to look at you from the doorway. “Goodnight.”

It’s this moment that you memorize. The way the light from the lamp barely reaches him, his dark hair a little messy and a tired smile on his face. The way he leans up against your door, looking for all the world like he belongs here.

“Goodnight, Tae.”

Your ears strain to hear his footsteps, a fissure forming in your heart as you hear him closing the door and driving off into the night. Eventually, sleep takes over.

Even as you dream, the feeling of being wrapped up in Taehyung’s arms while sitting above the Han River lingers.

main masterlist

again, your opinion matters! especially in this series! if you’re comfortable with it, please please please comment or send me an ask with your thoughts! (i.e. chemistry, how this date differed from Hobi’s date, ect.) thank you for reading, and I’ll see you next Saturday with date #3!!

taglist is open, click on the link at the top of the post or let me know if you’d like to join!

taglist: @baepsaetay @dreamcatcherjiah @kookie-vuitton @thecaffeinatedscribbles @moon-write @fangirl125reader @heishichoulevi @knjkitten @sacha-cff @vik7797 @delacyrose224 @luvtaeha @fanfictionreader05 @mininimmy @dreadity  @starlight-night0 @luzaroon @seaoffangirling @prachi05 @fangirl125reader @eusticenatalie @hesmyphenominiall​

[tobiosmilktea]

umpah umpah! smau

↪︎ bokuto x f!reader x iwaizumi

[027] — trust the victim!

masterlist | prev. | next

a/n: i literally just bought christmas gifts for my entire family and my bank account said 📉📉📉

“no, i’m good, thanks.” satomi deadpans for the umpteenth time today.

sure, those bear costumes were adorable and the cafe just behind the pair of mascots looked like a good place to eat, but this was not the time. if she were to be late to work, she hasn’t have the slightest clue on what her boss, mr. kono would think. she just hoped and prayed that she wouldn’t be fired, but especially after that one time went out with iwaizumi, she wasn’t sure anymore. missing work as a healthcare worker was already a serious ordeal, but being part of a professional team’s sports medicine team was on another level of seriousness. hell, she got suspended for an entire week just for a night, she couldn’t spare another minute.

“are you sure?”  the shorter bear asked again, “your dessert will be on the house if you eat now!”

satomi had a lot of patience. considering she’s good friends with bokuto and the physical therapist for the black jackals, it’s almost essential to have such a trait. yet by now, her patience was wearing quick.

“we’ll even throw in a free drink!” the taller bear added. their voices sounded awfully familiar.

granted, everything seemed awfully familiar today—from the couple she tried to help back at the coffeeshop and that random girl that accidentally bumped into earlier, but it didn’t matter now. she could not sacrifice years of hard work in medical school while finessing her way up the ladder to even work for a division 1 volleyball team for a stupid mistake.

something within satomi snapped, “i said i’m fine.” she huffed, pushing through the bear’s stuck arms holding promotional flyers. she stomped away, relishing the slight inkling of relief course through her as she finally escaped the pair. however the relief didn’t reign supreme for long once her eyes checked her phone.

shit, satomi thinks. i’m fucking late.

it was then did she push her weight off her right leg, running towards the gymnasium just a few blocks away. she felt like she was about to throw up her heart at any minute thinking of the consequences she would have to face once she entered that damned building. man, did she regret a lot of things by now. she wished to ignore the rising sting of her thighs that grew fatigued by the second, yet she’d rather think about the pain than beat herself up over her regrets.

satomi was well aware that she wouldn’t even be in this predicament if she didn’t say yes to iwaizumi. and yet, there was no way in hell did she regret going out with him. besides, she has a good feeling that their relationship could actually happen. maybe getting him drunk that one time was the best idea she ever had.

why else did he ask her out if he didn’t like her back?

her breath heaved as she pulled herself into a stop. entering the stadium doors, she was greeted by the security guard. she greets him back with a faux smile melting across her face as she reached into her bag for her id. “where the hell?” she muttered, “where’s my wallet?”

“is there a problem?” fujiyoshi, the security guard asked.

an annoyed scoff emitted from the girl. great, she thinks, can this day get any worse?

“sorry, fujiyoshi-san.” satomi says with the timbre of her voice suddenly turning sweet and provoking, “i don’t i have my id on me right now.”

the guard’s usual hard expression didn’t soften in the slightest and it kind of took satomi aback. usually guys would fall her sweet words, but she honestly wasn’t surprised that someone that’s a beefy security guard with muscles bigger than her head wouldn’t fall for that.

“you know i can’t let you in without a form of identification that you work here.” he dictates.

“oh come on, fujiyoshi!” satomi exclaimed desperately, “you see me walk inside every, just let me through!”

“no can do, ms. yahagi. we’ve been having security issues lately and this is just a necessary precaution.” 

satomi rolls her eyes, just put me out of my misery. “but you can't just—” she suddenly pauses as the black jackals and the rest of their sports medicine team make their way into the gymnasium. “bokuto! iwaizumi!” she shouts their names. the volleyball player and the athletic trainer look their way towards the girl a few meters away, held back by a security guard and the safety railing. “can you please tell this guy to let me in?”

by now the entire team was looking at her like a museum exhibit as all of them knew of all the fucked up things that she did. but honestly, if it wasn’t for sakusa and tomas holding back hinata and atsumu, who knew what those two would’ve done—maybe yell at her or just spoil all the fun of her suffering.

there was a level of confusion of satomi’s face when they all just stood there doing nothing. she gets that it’s strange seeing their physical therapist not be let in cause she forgot her id card, but things felt... different and she didn’t know what. did she have something on her face?

iwaizumi looks away, forcing himself not to look at the girl who used him for her own accord. he opted to think about you instead. meanwhile, bokuto continued to stare daggers at her, holding back a smirk as the sound of clicking shoes echoed from one of the hallways.

“hello?” satomi calls out again, “are you going to tell him to let me in?”

“that won’t be necessary,” a deep, guttural voice says, followed by none other than her boss, mr. kono, all suit-clad and his hair gelled back. “let her in,” he tells fujiyoshi.

“thank you!” she rolls her eyes before pushing through to the other side. she approaches the group of volleyball players and her medicine team, but is immediately stopped.

“come with me to my office.”

“what?” satomi asked, brows furrowing together as she walks to her boss instead. “did something happen?”

“i think you know,” mr. kono flickers a look towards iwaizumi before he disappeared into the gym. in an instant, satomi felt her breath hitch at the realization. she opened her mouth to speak. she tried so hard to force the words to come out between her lips but no excuse was good enough for her to get herself out of this one. maybe this day did get worse and she was absolutely speechless. “from personal experience, i always trust the victim.”

fun facts! —

when bo said that “it was time” it meant that they were going to report satomi, which wasn’t the plan at first since iwaizumi didn’t want anyone else to know

hinata, sakusa, atsumu, and tomas only knew of what satomi did, but they didn’t know that she did it to iwaizumi so they were extra mad

the entire msby team and their sports medicine team found out then so now she’s: ✨f-i-r-e-d✨

meanwhile, y/n, yuko, suga, kaori, and semi ended up eating at the bear cafe (they felt bad for akaashi so they order him takeout)

taglist: (closed!)

@moonlightaangel @elianetsantana @k4tiepie @memorableminds @wheeshllumi @suhkusa @kitsunetea @airybby @noeminemi @truly-a-snitch @keichan @cosmicmermaid25 @bap-kingdom @saturnfarie @kwdflash @ennos-baby @dinablossom @chrisrue15 @seikamuzu @nestlevanilla @chasekudo @yammmers @pixcldust @iwaizluv @h0ngh0ngh0ng @emogril @tiredandkindaoverworked @tsumue @underratedmage @bokutosuwus @kellesvt @unstableye @oh-tapeworm @scrappyfka @alittlebitofrain @mxngy @tpwkatsumu @atsumuwoah @macchiatoast @dicerawr @kageyamasbabygorl @some-random-stranger-007 @vhskenma @wntrmn @little-plants @stargirlara @kissungjae @je11yfishwriter @sbaepsae @apollochjld

[true-blue-megamind]

Fan Theory Thursday – The Not-So-Evil Overlord?

Shhh… Want to hear a secret?  Come closer... SPOILER ALERT!

Okay, this one delves a little deep into the imaginative side of Megamind fan theories, however I believe it holds enough interest and has enough support to be well worth discussing.  There is a supposition which I frankly love: our favorite blue alien was an Overlord of sorts before he briefly took control of Metro City, and he had good reasons to be so.  That might sound a little crazy, but bear with me.

This idea has appeared in several fan fictions, and essentially goes as follows: Megamind was more than a supervillain; he was also a crime boss, and he chose that path for the most unlikely of reasons. Bizarre though it may seem, his primary drive was bettering Metro City.  (And, yes, I’m aware of how contradictory that sounds.)  However, it’s logical when considered more closely.  By making himself the de facto ruler of the city’s underbelly, Megamind was able to control crime to an extent, probably even setting limits on certain activities, and guidelines for others.  In the majority of fan fictions using this concept, that includs things like reducing violent crime, setting purity standards and purchase limits for narcotics, and ensuring sex workers were neither underage nor abused.

I’ll be the first to admit that, on the surface at least, this seems like nothing more than fans seeking to justify or even moralize a beloved character, but research reveals that there is actually some support for this theory.  Firstly, there is the fact, touched upon previously in the Fan Theory post concerning the Warden, that Megamind was clearly already establishing control over other criminals at a young age.  While writing a truly wonderful blog article, Demishock actually went through the trouble of deciphering the newspaper clipping shown at the beginning of the film’s title sequence.  It contains, among other things, a reference to the fact that, although an elementary school age child, Megamind was feared and obeyed by other inmates at the prison where he grew up.  A quote from the Warden reads: “I've got experienced, hardened criminals in here who are afraid of him.” The article goes on to mention an incident which involved a few other inmates, adding that “the other prisoners refused to point fingers for fear of retaliation.”

It is quite possible that Megamind was already building and consolidating a base of power.

Next, there is the fact that the blue man seems to have lines he won’t cross, even as the self-proclaimed Evil Overlord. In one of the storyboards, when Megamind is approached by the Doom Syndicate, he clearly holds them in disdain, yet they are careful to placate him.  Obviously they have somewhat different standards.  When Agent Orange—who was later reimagined as Psycho-Delic before being cut from the film entirely—compares Megamind’s “inspirational” defeat of Metro Man to “a car crash on prom night,” the blue alien looks rather disgusted. Although they refer to celebrating his victory, it also seems the Doom Syndicate may be indirectly asking Megamind’s permission to go on a crime spree. While this may be because he is the new Overlord, it seems odd that other villains would immediately leap to the assumption such approval is necessary if they were accustomed to acting on their own. However, if they were already in the habit of requesting the blue alien’s sanction, their actions make more sense.

Whatever the case, it seems that, once again, Megamind and the Doom Syndicate may have very different ideas of what sorts of crimes are acceptable. The Destruction Worker refers to “really putting the screws to the city,” while Agent Orange adds his desire to “swim in the torment of the innocent.”  However, these suggestions don’t seem to match what we actually see Megamind doing.  In the movie, Megamind does, indeed, go on a crime spree, but none of it appears to be violent.  He certainly causes chaos, but no one seems to ever be injured.  In fact, in the DVD commentary, one of the creators even states outright that the supervillain never goes beyond vandalism and theft because he doesn’t really want to hurt anybody.  (Indeed, in the film it rather seems that, by being raised in jail, bullied, and constantly rejected, Megamind was pushed into supervillainy.) This, together with the previous evidence, paints an image of a man who has been forced to do some harsh things, but who nonetheless dislikes violence and, deep down, possesses a certain moral code, albeit a skewed one.  

There are, in fact, several other details that point toward Megamind being far from truly evil despite being a supervillain.  As I mentioned in Megamind and Identity, he displays several redeeming qualities, such as his largely friendly treatment of Minion, his respect for Roxanne’s intelligence, and his playful, affectionate game of fetch with the brainbots.  However, I won’t go into a long explanation about that here as it can be found in the aforementioned post.

Nonetheless, I don’t believe we can seriously expect that the former villain has never once hurt anyone in his life.  Keep in mind that, as discussed in the post How Strong is Megamind, the blue alien almost certainly had to fight in order to survive.  However, his unwillingness to attack citizens suggests that he only injured others when it was absolutely necessary.  Similarly, the aforementioned “news article” indicates that he may have limited his physically aggressive responses to other criminals only. (After all, the reference to prison inmates fearing him is the sole evidence of possible violence we have.)  I have seen it suggested here on Tumblr that he may have taken over Metro City in part because he believed that, if he didn’t, someone worse like the Doom Syndicate would.  It may even be possible that he was afraid of appearing soft and thus losing control over the criminal underworld.  

Of course, it has to be mentioned here that Megamind also fought with Metro Man, who certainly wasn’t a criminal.  However, there are two factors that I believe need to be considered.  The first is that it is very likely that Megamind didn’t expect he could truly harm his nemesis. This is evidenced by both the his apparent shock when Metro Man seems to actually be dead, and by his overt statement during the museum scene that he “didn’t think it would really work.”  The second is that, as young Metro Man was a bully, tormenting Megamind without provocation and encouraging other children to do the same, Megamind may have mentally placed him in the bad guy/threat category.

His lack of violence is not the only proof that Megamind had a better heart than most credited him for even when he was a supervillain. Keep in mind that he had a holographic disguise watch and a hoverbike.  Presumably, Megamind could have simply fled Metro City when Titan turned evil, but he didn’t.  Instead he went to Roxanne for help, stating that if they could not find the new villain’s weakness Titan would “destroy the whole city.”  And this was after Titan had tried to kill him.  Clearly, despite being a supervillain, Megamind cared enough about his home town to put his life in danger.

The final support for the Benevolent Overlord theory is less obvious: Megamind had to have been getting funds from somewhere even when Metro Man was still functioning as the Defender of Metro City. (Indeed, in some of the early concept art, the Evil Lair was imagined as a luxurious space boasting things like a huge library and a sleek laboratory.  Some fans still picture the living quarters in much the same way despite the creators stating that he built his inventions from whatever he could get his hands on.)  Near the beginning of the movie, Minion mentions a supplier in Romania, and presumably he and Megamind had to be getting food and other necessities somehow.  While it’s true that the blue villain was clearly not above thievery, we also know that his plots were always defeated by Metro Man, so it’s safe to assume that he rarely if ever got away with stealing anything before the former hero’s supposed “death.”  Of course, it also seems extremely unlikely, even laughable, that Megamind would have had a day job.  Where, then, did the money come from?  Many fans theorize that, as the local crime boss, he received a cut from all illegal activity. It certainly seems like the most probable explanation.  

Art by Kory Heinzen, found in The Art of Megamind by Richard von Busack

So why would Megamind build his technology and machines largely from scrap if he had a constant cash flow?  Given his concern for the city, several fan fictions have imagined the blue man secretly and anonymously donating a significant portion of his ill-gotten money to various charities and non-profits.  That idea is not directly supported by any evidence, but it does fit with what we know.  It’s also consistent with Megamind’s character: a feared supervillain who possesses a surprisingly good heart and, given his past, knows too well what it’s like to be thrown away by society.

So, was Megamind a crime boss as well as a supervillain?  Did he use that position to secretly better life in Metro City?  If so, is he still doing that now that he is the Defender of Metro City, thus curbing criminal activity from within as well as fighting it from without? (For the record, given that there is no apparent gang war happening during The Button of Doom, I would propose that the answer to the last question may be yes.)  These are certainly interesting ideas to consider, and the mere fact that this animated film offers enough details to argue the point is a testament to just how well-constructed the movie is.  I consider it yet more proof that the film Megamind is truly an underrated masterpiece.

[imthepunchlord]

so I recently read through your "Always a hero"-works. And now I am hooked on LfM. And while Adrien Seems so much different from canon, he really isn't? Marinette not being in his "friends-folder" means he sees no reason believing her over Chloe. (I cannot recall situations like that in canon but when does canon explore sidecharas much other than to akumatize them)

It essentially is canon Adrien, though been focusing on his worst aspects as we’re going into 4 seasons, and those issues have yet to be addressed and I’m a tad salty and LfM is a salt fic response fic. And Adrien for a while will have that salty focus. Largely because

And yeah, canon won’t put focus on side characters (or even truly focus on our lead herself) as those characters have to circle around the love square, their akumas, or 

Actually the most we got is Chloe. 

She got focus outside Adrien and the love square. Unfortunately, all her focus was a big waste of our time and essentially another tease of “is she going to be redeemed or not”. Ultimately not and its like, why even bother spending two seasons focusing on will she won’t she be better. That could’ve been shortened down to one. Now she’s a very irritating character and canon wise, I don’t want to see her with another miraculous ever again. 

Which is a shame as I was one of many up to see Chloe redeemed, especially since I’m fed up with the idea that 14 yos girls are irredeemable but Gabriel will probably be redeemed. It shouldn’t be like that for Chloe or Lila. But they want to push that these girls are absolutely evil, more so than the active terrorist who is a neglectful father and by Chat Blanc abusive so... 

It’s also a big shame cause there was so much potential in the side characters outside love square and Adrien. 

Putting this under cut cause I just go off and it gets lenthy. 

Alya could’ve had an amazing arc if she was a full time hero. Could’ve had a struggle of balancing her hero and civilian lives, as one she is essentially living her dream. Another option is learning, hey, being a hero isn’t all glory and glamour. And depending on the miraculous, there was more to learn, especially since I myself am not big on her having Fox anymore and there are better alternatives, both in matching her but also teaching her things she needs to learn. She could learn to be more of a team player and to be more conscious of her friends as when she gets going in her goals, she can be quite inconsiderate. She can also learn to be more self conscious of her own security as she can rival Adrien in reckless behavior around akumas. And in truth, any miraculous can teach her the importance of secrecy, not Fox exclusively. 

Honestly, Alya and Nino should’ve had their miraculous swapped (most characters actually don’t have a miraculous that suits them in terms of kwami,  powers, or/and symbolism).  Alya at the core is meant to be a supportive friend that is supposed to have her friends’ back, but also prefers to be on the front lines. Turtle would allow this, and teach her to be more aware of the danger she and her friends are in. It won’t essentially stop her reactive behavior, but she can learn to be more smart about it. 

And with Nino, it was always weird to me how popular it was for him to get Turtle. And then it happened in canon and I’m just put off by the assignment. Nino at the core isn’t a character that wants to be on the front lines, but Turtle is a miraculous that is meant to be on the front lines as a protector. Nino is a support role, but not in that sense. Fox would’ve been better as its more designed to help from the shadows. It won’t be as aesthetically pleasing still as Nino is so color coded for Peafowl, but would fit better as it allows Nino to be a background support. It would also help him learn to be more observant and aware of others, and wanting to be a director, you need to learn to put on a good show that draws your audience in. Mirage can give him a chance to truly practice this. Mindful, Fox still isn’t my top pick for Nino (I think Fox would be more fitting with Marinette or Felix), Peafowl still is as that’s what he is coded for, and even canon wise, it would be a more fitting miraculous for him than Turtle. But of what Fu has, Fox would’ve been the better pick for Nino. 

And speaking of Nino, it’s revealed from a tweet from Thomas that Nino had lost an older brother and that his hat belonged to him. That actually gives Nino an emotional tie in to the plot as, while he wants his brother back, he wouldn’t go to the extent that Gabriel is. 

Classmate wise, there’s potential too. 

Origins shows that everyone was afraid of Ivan and assumed the worst of him, he could’ve had an arc of changing those views. Go from being feared to being seen as a hero to trust. A source of protection and security. 

Juleka wants to shine out more. But she struggles in that spotlight and to even be heard. She could have an arc about being heard, and building her confidence. 

Rose is a girl ruled by her heart and is full of love and trust for others. It could be interesting seeing her have a miraculous and struggling with the factor that fighting is involved, but she herself is a pacifist (at least I get that impression). And that can be an interesting thing to explore, as she’s not wrong, but sometimes fighting is the only way. She can also learn to be more conscious that there are those who will take advantage of her and will have active malicious intents to her and others. 

Kim actually states that he wants to be a hero. Not only could him as a hero be fun, it could help him mature as a character and be more serious, as akumas demand focus and be treated as serious. Copycat shows that he can be an observant character, I’d be intrigue to see ML’s residential himbo be surprisingly observant and offer up advise to his friends. 

And of alternative love interests... 

Well, this is more Kagami than Luka, at least in terms of character potential and an arc to see. Though, as of now, if all the predictions are correct SPOILER ALERT, Lies will break up Adrien and Kagami, to me its going to make them another Chloe. More specifically, why did we spend two seasons building up and teasing these alternative love interests only to immediately break them up at the start of s4. 

To me, that sets them up as pointless inclusions who ultimately didn’t bring anything to the narrative. 

Either way, this is about character potentials and I see more potential to explore with Kagami than Luka, and that’s more on the writers and how they handle Luka as most Luka episodes wound up more about Adrien than him. So he is largely a character I just don’t know what to do with. 

Kagami though, she’s an aggressive character that could learn to cool it, she wants to branch out/rebel from her mother, she wants to make friends but struggles with it, and can learn to be more conscious of others and step up into the hero role, of helping others. 

Honestly, working solely off Riptose, she would’ve been a better rival for Adrien than Marinette. Not just as a love rival, which he truly has yet to have, but a rival in general. While she wants to branch out from her mother’s influence, fencing is still her passion and her goal, something Adrien himself lacks. Outside being romantically involved with LB, he has no passion or goal for himself. Kagami can challenge this, why is he here when he doesn’t truly care about fencing? 

And as a romantic rival, she’s one of the few who doesn’t need a miraculous to join fights, she can vigilante to assist LB and pay her back for her helping in cleansing her, but could end showing that she’s a better partner to LB as she takes things more seriously and is more battle smart in fights. Which ultimately would force Adrien to step up his game, take things more seriously, and wise up for throwing a tantrum will only take you so far. Especially when there’s a 3rd party member that’s judging you for your immaturity and shows LB she doesn’t have to bow to his whims just because he’s having a tantrum. 

...You know, maybe Luka then would’ve been better as Marinette’s rival. Not a love rival, Marinette has enough between Chloe, Lila, and Adrien’s fanclub. But more of a rival for Ladybug. Though, it won’t so much be an arc for Luka himself but one for Marinette. If Kagami and Luka are supposed to help Adrien and Marinette grow, then this at least keeps in that theme. 

With the show taking a turn that Marinette is feeling overwhelmed and stressed with her role as a hero and now Guardian, and slightly playing off Origins and her doubts of whether she’s a good hero; Luka could’ve been an interesting character for her to come across and consider. Ultimately, he is set up to be a very solid hero: he is calm, mature, shown to be a planner, and considerate and aware of others. Only thing he has against him is that he’s a removed character and is mostly seen sitting on that boat. 

Romance between them I’d leave as optional, but it could be intriguing to see Marinette considering the possibility of retiring as Ladybug and passing it on to Luka so she can fully embrace her Guardian duties and not be so overwhelmed. And in general, it is a big wonder, who would take over as the Ladybug if Marinette has to leave and not come back, or that she can’t balance between being a hero and being the Guardian (and in truth, Tikki is no longer a good kwami for Marinette to have as she’s developing an Atlas complex through her and she hasn’t been helpful as a guide and adviser in a long time). 

Now the show writers would butcher this, but it could’ve been interesting to see. Maybe Luka could’ve been a means to help her learn to manage things better if she has to stay LB and Guardian. 

But yeah, it’s a shame that this show won’t delve past the LS which has long since gotten stale and quite toxic. There’s a lot of potential, but they won’t touch it. Won’t care to. 

[memryse]

thoughts and theories about the note from enderboo

(dsmp spoilers below! check ranboo's 29/4 stream if you don't know about this note.)

(note: enderwalking c!ranboo and regular c!ranboo are not separate personalities, i use "enderboo" and "awakeboo" as shorthand when talking about the two but please remember c!ranboo does not have multiple personalities! enderboo is still ranboo. also i can't be bothered to keep typing c! so everything from here is /rp)

the ideology certainly lines up with awakeboo's - he did have the whole plan to build a court and help people resolve things nonviolently. even if that's been abandoned now, it still correlates to ranboo's general dislike of conflict and taking sides. the difference is that enderboo is taking a more active stance, compared to awakeboo's typical passiveness. "he's me, but more wild" definitely checks out here.

however.

what it doesn't correlate with is what we already know about enderboo. which is admittedly not much, but still, there are some glaring contradictions there.

firstly: compare this to enderboo at the red banquet. did you guys see him doing any kind of conflict resolution there? protecting anyone? keeping anyone safe? cause i sure didn't. leaving a note to awakeboo saying "I WON" after the red banquet is... kind of demonstrating the exact opposite of that, actually. (note: "I WON" may not have been referring to the red banquet, if ranboo was enderwalking the entire time since his lore stream - it could have been in his inventory prior to the red banquet)

secondly: it goes against the lessons, and all the things enderboo has done related to those lessons.

"never fully trust anyone." this doesn't really seem like a good thing for someone who wants to help everyone and make life better for them.

"if you have the opportunity to gain a favour, take it." is this not directly taking advantage of conflict? for example, the shulker box deal. a deal that was proposed because foolish was scared people would try and take the shulker box from him. when enderboo asked for the war favour, he never said anything about foolish not taking sides. he only said that if a conflict arises, he may need a favour from foolish. he also talked for a bit about being good at manipulating people.

everything with the community house, hiding the disc, etc. that was quite the opposite of conflict resolution. like i don't think i need to explain any further.

there are a few reasons i can think of for why these contradictions exist.

enderboo lied. if "I WON" was referring to enderboo starting to gain more control/become stronger, and that he wants awakeboo to continue to remember, perhaps he would lie to gain awakeboo's trust...? i don't like this one personally because, again, "he's me, but more wild". they're not separate personalities, so their beliefs should align.

he was telling the truth, but has seriously messed up morals. perhaps enderboo thought the doomsday conflict would be worth...? causing doomsday would lead to one of two scenarios: either everyone is defeated by dream and gives up, or dream - the greatest source of conflict on the server - would be defeated and stop manipulating everyone else into fighting. doesn't explain all the other times he helped dream though.

enderboo had the same defeatist attitude as awakeboo about giving into dream. this is especially interesting if we consider enderboo to be ranboo's "active" side: awakeboo remained passive and essentially said to lie down and let dream blow up l'manburg because at least that way people aren't fighting with each other. enderboo, on the other hand, decided to actively help dream.

dream manipulated the shit out of enderboo. if enderboo thought dream was genuine about the whole "big happy family" thing - if he bought that lie and thought dream really wanted to help - it wouldn't be hard for dream to get him on his side. especially because dream has been working with enderboo for a long time, perhaps since before enderboo ever even developed a solid ideology. hell, maybe he only started seriously wanting to prevent conflict after dream went to prison, and prior to that dream was fully in control. i personally see something along these lines as the most likely because it explains the discrepancies in enderboo before and after getting banned from the prison. but it doesn't explain why he just watched at the red banquet. all i can really think of is that he has a bigger plan.

i'm hesitant to give any solid opinions on all of this just yet, because i prefer to build my theories on solid fact and as of yet there is not enough information about the enderwalk for me to do so. but i'm in favour of my final theory; it's the only way i can think of to explain why enderboo, who blatantly helped cause one of the biggest conflicts on the server, would suddenly be all about peace and harmony. because i'm not really a fan of the idea of enderboo lying and being utterly different from awakeboo. but then again i suppose if it were truly a force for good we wouldn't be getting so many horror elements. who knows! i sure don't, i just like exploring what we've seen in canon. probably also going to write up a list of confirmed facts we know about enderboo and any inferences i can make about them

[oathofoaksart]

LEGION OF SUPERHEROES/DC OC: AMELIE “ZEPHYR” GWIN

bio under the cut!!

General Name: Amelie Gwin A.K.A: Zephyr; Zeph, Zephy, Amma Age: 16 [S1], 18 [S2] Gender: Cisgender Female Orientation: Biromantic Bisexual Occupation: Founder Legionnaire  

Race: Metahuman Location: Legion of Superheroes Headquarters; Earth Hometown: New Metropolis, USA; Earth

Relations Parents: Sinclair (deceased) and Cornelia Gwin Siblings: Sable, Kahlo, and Drexel Gwin Friends: Chuck “Bouncing Boy” Taine, Imra “Saturn Girl” Ardeen, Luornu “Triplicate Girl” Durgo, Tinya “Phantom Girl” Wazzo, Clark “Superman” Kent, Brainiac 5, Brin “Timberwolf” Londo, Galatea @generalfandomsofthefreak​, Reep “Chameleon Boy” Daggle, Rokk “Cosmic Boy” Krinn Partner/s: Garth “Lightning Lad” Ranzz (ev.); Mekt "Lightning Lord" Ranzz (AU) Misc.: Mekt Ranzz, Ayla Ranzz Affiliations: The Legion of Superheroes

Appearance Skin: Medium Fair, rosy undertones Hair: Jet black Eyes: Black; turn fully white when concentrating a heavy attack Height: 5’1” Build: Generally small, but limber; similar to a cheerleading flyer Distinctions: Considered averagely cute; often told she has big, pretty eyes. While she’s rarely out of uniform anymore, she has what’s considered a “tomboy-ish” style.

Personality

Energetic | Playful | Dedicated | Impulsive | Brash

Type: ESFP-A (The Entertainer) Temperament: Sanguine-Choleric Alignment: Chaotic Good

Lively, loud, fun-loving; Amelie takes the role of being the Legion’s resident jokester. Even during dangerous situations, Amma is given to flippant (and most of the time, cringe-worthy) wisecracks and one-liners, staying relaxed and seemingly carefree all the while. She’s shameless flirt, constantly spouting lame pick up lines to anyone she sees as the least bit attractive (although she does very poorly at actually getting a date). Despite her general goofiness, she’s incredibly dedicated to the Legion cause and her fellow Legionnaires, giving her 100% and beyond.

Amma’s happy-go-lucky attitude is for the most part, for the sake of relieving the stress that the life of a hero often brings. Not just for herself, but for her friends as well, however it’ll occasionally blow up in her face. While she might not mean to, she has a habit of coming across as immature and reckless, especially compared to the other founding Legionnaires. Over the years, this had started to shape into a suppressed inferiority complex that when exposed, leads to sporadic and intense clashes with others.

Powers/Advantages

Amelie uses air manipulation as an offset of telekinesis, maneuvering the air in and/or around objects she moves them to her will, including herself, enabling flight without the use of her Legion flight ring. She can also manifest her aerokinesis in strong gusts, whirlwinds, and gales. By controlling air waves, Amelie is capable of sound amplification and negation.  

Like all Legionnaires, Amelie owns a Legion flight ring, which enables flight outside of her natural metagene, provides communication between other Legionnaires, can emit light like a flashlight, and protects the wearer from the vacuum of space. The Legionnaire belt works as a cloaking device.

Amelie is unable to create her own atmosphere, she can only use the air that's already available; her powers are rendered useless in a vacuum. They’re also tied a bit closely to her emotions, she has a hard time reeling them in if her emotions get the best of her.

Biography

Amelie was first born to Sinclair and Cornelia Gwin, followed three years later by all male triplets. The Gwins lived a happy existence, making their living off the small but successful restaurant under Sinclair’s name. Amma was an active, sporty girl throughout all of elementary and middle school and from a young age was smitten with the idea of running the restaurant when she was old enough. Her parents were loving and doting of her and her brothers, but she was particularly close to her father, who was known for his jolliness and all around silliness.  

Tragedy struck the Gwins when Amma was twelve, her father was caught in the middle of an armed robbery while closing the restaurant. Sinclair was found dead at the scene. The Gwins stumbled at the sudden blow, Cornelia scrambled to not only trying to keep herself from falling apart, but console her children while keeping the business stable. Seeing her mother doing her best to keep everything cohesive, Amma did her best as the eldest of the children to comfort her brothers and help in any way she could in the restaurant.

The incident of her father’s murder molded much of her personality. She loved her father dearly and his death devastated her, but instead of allowing herself the time to grieve she took up Sinclair’s jovial disposition. She forced herself to stay strong for her family, shoving any of her own trauma down where no one could see it, and instead focused on trying to brighten everyone else’s day. 

The stress of keeping up her mask of cheeriness eventually came too much not more than a few months after Sinclair’s death. A particularly nasty crying spell came to a crux, alone in her room, Amma felt as if everything was too much and too soon, her feelings erupted. She didn’t realize the roar in her ears wasn’t just her blood rushing, but that her room had been seized by a whirlwind, ripping through posters and hurling around furniture. The noise alerted her mother, who came rushing to her daughter’s side, which proved nearly disastrous. The storm correspond to Amma’s emotions, who was now in a panic, as the wind tore the roof off and sent both Amma and Cornelia sailing through the clouds.

Amma, in what should have been a futile effort, imagined that they’d somehow make it down safely. When the force of the impact never came, the mother and daughter opened their eyes to see they were hovering unharmed over the remains of their house, the triplets staring up at them in awe.

Amma, due to the stress of grief that went unchecked, activated her own metagene.

The Gwins made their home at the restaurant, loyal customers and helpful neighbors contributed in making the place comfortable for them with generous donations. Meanwhile, Amma experimented with her new found abilities, all under the careful eye of her mother. While abilities such as her own was no longer too outside the norm in the 31st century, Amma couldn’t fight the feeling that her powers could perhaps make a difference, instead of having them just thrown under the rug as a quirk.

She developed the habit of dropping by the remaining superhero museums, Superman and the Flash, as they were the first few who came to time with abilities that helped the world. The prospect of being a hero herself was something that called her greatly, but Amma couldn’t think up a way to start. Her chance would appear however, just a little after her thirteenth birthday.

Once again roaming through the Superman Museum, Amma encountered three kids right around her age, huddled far off to the corner of the building. Experience in having three younger brothers who were more often than not up to no good, Amma tried out a new trick she had been practicing. By keeping together the air waves from their voices a longer distance, she was able to carry their conversation to where she was staying, essentially eavesdropping. What she thought was three kids potentially plotting to trash the museum was actually plan on solving the conspiracy behind the threat over billionaire, R.J Brande’s, head.

Amma practically forced herself into the conversation, much to the surprise of the other three. A Braalian with magnetic manipulation, Rokk Krinn, a Titinian telepath, Imra Ardeen and Winathian electrokinetic, Garth Ranzz. Rokk, Imra and Garth were skeptical of Amma, who shoved herself into their plans with no sense of the danger to come. She won them over however, by showing them her own abilities, namely, her flight and the ease of transportation it would bring. And so the four became a rag-tag team of heroes, coming together to save R.J Brande.

Brande was grateful for their quick-thinking and selflessness and in return now helps fund their team of defenders, The Legion of Superheroes.  

Amelie goes by Zephyr, a senior Legionnaire, and fights so that the galaxy can be safe from the likes of the Fatal Five and that no one should have to experience her loss.

Notes

Zephyr is a skilled cruiser pilot, since her abilities are void in space, she didn't want rendered useless. Her fighting style bleeds into her piloting, very quick on her reflexes.

Amma prefers to float everywhere rather than have her feet touch the ground, reason being she’s the second shortest member of the Legion and it’s hard to tell when she’s in the air.

One of the few things Amma takes with extreme caution is kitchen duty, she’s taken the title of the Legion’s Head Chef. Other Legionnaires take scheduled shifts helping her set up meals for the day. She’s surprisingly stern when it comes to the kitchen, from food preparation to cleanliness.

She’s notorious for developing inconvenient crushes, such as with a constant thorn in the Legion’s side, Mekt Ranzz, and far beyond her league, the President of United Planets, Winema Wazzo

Amma is well aware of her status as a founder, but dislikes drawing respect out through it. However, she does wish that her fellow founders took her a little more seriously, something that causes friction mostly between Cosmic Boy and herself.

She had originally named herself Gale Girl when the Legion first came to be, but with Imra, Luorno and Tinya’s hero names all ending in “Girl” as well, Amma wanted to stand out. Zephyr looks and sounds cool.

[nellie-elizabeth]

First Line Meme Rules: List the first lines of your last 20 stories (if you have less than 20, just list them all). See if there are any patterns. Choose your favorite opening line, then tag 10 of your favorite authors!

tagged by @lizardkingeliot. Thanks!!! <3

This is going to be fun!

1. The Production of Penny. SPOILERS for A Comet Pulled From Orbit.

For the first several weeks, it’s just impossible to meet her. Penny will feel bad about it later, but he can’t take in any new stimuli when his entire body, mind, soul is shivering in the exposed light, trying to adjust to a reality he’d given up on returning to. He holes himself up with his family in one of his favorite places, a small house in Alaska, of all places, that he’d only just acquired and made comfortable when he’d—when he’d gotten himself trapped somewhere else.

2. The Way a Fool Would Do

You never really know what you’re getting into, when you choose to take a soulmate. Before Quentin had bound himself to Eliot, he’d been forced to endure the normal barrage of questions from the Fillorian Soul Council, and then a separate barrage of questions from his cousin Julia, who had nitpicked his choice down to the marrow, pouring concern after concern into Quentin’s already terrified brain.

He’d been so frustrated with her at the time, but in retrospect he can’t blame her for her caution. The fact is, no matter how much you prepare, no matter how much you think you’ve thought it all through, binding another soul to your own is unlike anything else in the world. It is impossible to know how it will feel until it’s already too late to turn back.

3. The Genesis of Julia

She decides, while watching the 1984 Summer Olympics one lazy day, a magically cool glass of lemonade on the table beside her as she lounges back into their comfiest armchair, to master gymnastics. The decision is made more or less on a whim; this is how Julia decides how to spend a great deal of her infinite life minutes, truthfully. She’s organized and meticulous once she knows her goal, but when it comes to finding said goal, it’s all about what strikes her fancy.

4. The Construction of Kady

The dust took a couple of weeks to settle, after Kady’s abrupt departure from her old life and chaotic intrusion into her new one. She’d been in the middle of war with her own people when she’d died for the first time, and the others had found her desperately attempting to steal magic from a rival hedge group in order to survive, too anxious about her own life to properly mourn for her mother’s death, and certainly too caught up in her own frantic mind to trust any of these new people, much less believe them about their immortality, or her own.

5. The Origins of Alice

There was no way to prepare for something like this. There was simply nothing she could do, nothing she could write down, no refinements she could make, that would help her to be more ready for what the morning would bring.

Alice hated that very much, of course.

6. The Creation of Quentin

The object in question was beautifully rendered, detailed and precise. A burnished color, the cool weight of it reassuringly solid in Q’s hands as he examined it, turning it over and over in his hands. This one wasn’t even particularly old; it looked to be a sixteenth century model, and Q had seen older and more beautiful in his time.

7. The Making of Margo

When Margo first met Alice, she understood her immediately. That wasn’t to say that Alice was boring, or predictable, or that there was nothing Margo had to learn about her. It wasn’t that at all. It was more that in meeting Alice, Margo was able to take one look at her and think to herself: ah, now this I know what to do with.

8. The Explanation of Eliot

El was afraid of heights, but only a little.

He could fly, after all, and that should have made fear illogical. But if anything, his ability to subvert gravity was the very reason for his nerves: he’d never been able to trust himself with anything, much less his own life or the life of others. The few times his telekinetic powers had been called in as a means of escape or rescue, when he’d held an innocent stranger or beloved family member in his arms and floated with them down from the side of a mountain or building or cliff face… well, those were the things he had nightmares about, on the rare occasions when he could remember his dreams. It was that sensation of freefall, of knowing it was magic, something inexplicable, deep in his consciousness, in his soul, even, that was the only thing preventing sharp, painful, deadly impact. He knew himself well enough to know he should never be trusted with something so precious as the life of another.

9. A Comet Pulled From Orbit

Alice Quinn woke up.

This was an unexpected development, considering the events of mere moments ago. Specifically the agonizing thirty seconds she’d spent bleeding out on the carpet, wondering in an abstract sort of way how long it would be before someone thought to look for her and found her mangled corpse tucked into the corner of a Brakebills Library study room, surrounded by the shredded remains of several large magical tomes, and her carefully collated notes.

---

Pausing here for a moment after the first 9 - eight of them are all part of one series. The main story, A Comet Pulled From Orbit, is an Alice POV AU of The Old Guard. Prominent Queliot subplot, some burgeoning Kalice and other ships as well. Lots of found family, etc. The other stories, all the ones with the seven main characters' names in them, are meant to be a series of small snippets to fill out that universe, backwards and forwards. I'm noticing that I do a lot of setup, I don't often start in medias res with any of these, trying to set a tone and get the information started right away. Each of the chapters of the snippet stories could be their own thing, so it's a little weird to consider it the start of a bigger story!!

Okay, moving on to earlier stories.

10. is it too late (or could this love protect me)

This is a story about nothing and everything. It is a story between then and now. It is a story of people living their lives, living them, and living them, and continuing to live them, with only some pedestrian heartbreak and alcoholism and good old millennial economic angst to add some variety to the humdrum of continued existence.

This is a story about stupidity, and love. Stupid love.

(A/N - hmm I kinda hate this beginning now even though I'm SUPER proud of the story as a whole)

11. Maybe This Time

"Quentin Coldwater?" Eliot says, twisting the name up in his mouth like an insult.

Give him a break - it's a weird fucking name, for one thing. And besides, the off-putting demeanor is an intentional scare tactic.

12. Beyond the Veil

"Do you think the Lorians would want a seat at the table?" Fen asked doubtfully, looking over the charter in front of her.

"Well, they're going to want to review the language, at any rate," one of the advisers put in. "Especially the order of the names."

"But it's in alphabetical order!" Margo said. "Fillory comes before Loria - sorry, not sorry."

13. Running All This Time

Quentin was sweet. There were a lot of words that Eliot could think of to describe him, several of them a lot more besotted than he was comfortable with, but sweet was an apt descriptor, generally speaking.

He had the softest little smile, and wide brown eyes that crinkled up in the corners when he was happy. He had strong yet gentle hands, hands that were somehow mesmerizing as he flapped them around wildly during conversation, trying to paint pictures in the air to accompany his latest rant about whatever-the-fuck. His voice was calming, his circular logic compelling, enough so that Eliot found himself listening - really listening - whenever Quentin was talking to him, even if it was about the Plover books and what they suggested about this time period in Fillorian history, or the politics of trade when it came to buying labor from talking animals, or how he may have come up with a better tracking system to mark down the mosaic patterns they'd already tried. Dry, uninteresting stuff, really. Which is what Eliot told Quentin, with an eye-roll, to stop him from getting a big head.

14. To Feel the Same

Quentin finds Eliot sitting alone in the armory, surrounded by books.

Something tense and frantic inside of him unclenches, like it always does around this man. It’s actually a remarkable thing, because by all rights Eliot should make him more nervous, not less. Quentin is a nervous person, after all, and Eliot is so… Eliot . A High King in his blood. Quentin had meant that, when he said it, and had drank in the gratitude in Eliot’s eyes like a glass of pure, crisp water, essential and quenching.

15. Identity Theft

The first thing the man noticed as he came to consciousness was that his head was pounding. It felt like the worst hangover he'd ever had, times about a million, and for several seconds all he could do was lay there and gasp and wait for his eyes to adjust. He appeared to be in a semi-dark room of some sort. It was large, with a cavernous ceiling above him, and the air was drafty. Like a garage maybe, bigger even - a warehouse?

The second thing he noticed was that he wasn't alone in the room. There were shapes all around him, rustling and making confused, pained sounds. After a few moments of this, there was a whoosh of energy and an orb of light floated above his head, illuminating the space in a soft glow. Someone in the room had cast a simple light spell. He looked around and sat up slowly, trying not to jostle his still pounding head. His next observation was that pretty much everyone in the room with him was kind of stupidly attractive.

16. Promises

Quentin gets about thirty seconds alone in his bedroom in the cottage, before Eliot is bursting through the door without knocking. It's not that he wasn't expecting him to take it hard, but seriously - can he not give Quentin just a couple of minutes of peace?

"This isn't happening," Eliot says without preamble, slamming the door shut behind him. "I'm sorry, Q, but it's not."

"I honestly don't think it's your decision to make," Quentin says, running a tired hand over his face.

17. The Curse of the Broken Vase (aka The One Where They Get Married and Nothing Goes Wrong)

Quentin was pacing.

He was pacing, and he was tugging his hands through his hair, which he really shouldn't be doing because it had actually taken a hairdresser an annoying amount of time to brush it out and tie it back, and apparently it was perfect now, even though Quentin couldn't really see how it was different from his normal lazy bun, but whatever.

There would be people, Eliot included, who would be annoyed with him for messing up his hair.

18. Liquid Courage

Eliot was fidgeting. Which was unusual, and generally not a good sign. But it still wasn't much of a warning, Quentin had thought to himself later, given what was about to happen. Then again, Eliot had been acting strangely all week, a little distant and distracted, and Quentin had known his partner was working up to discuss something with him.

Quentin had been worried, of course, but in an abstract sort of way. He figured whatever it was, the two of them were more than equal to the challenge. Given everything they'd been through over the entire course of their relationship, he really couldn't imagine any piece of news that would be capable of obliterating their lives.

19. Reciprocal

The thing about Quentin Coldwater was that it was pretty much impossible not to love him. Honestly, it wasn't even Eliot's fault - how was he expected to spend every second of every day around such a beautiful, adorable, kind person without letting it get to him? And the sex. Well. That was fucking incendiary, which really wasn't helping his resolve in the love department.

20. Fragments

It was a perfectly normal morning in Fillory. Which, honestly, should have been Quentin's first warning that things were about to go very, very wrong. Fillory was many things, but normal was not one of them: Q had gotten used to being woken up by harried castle employees, alerting him to one catastrophe or another. The Serpent War had ended months ago, but the paperwork was still pouring in like it had never stopped. His official role in the government wasn't supposed to have anything to do with the war efforts, but it had been an all-hands-on-deck situation for the last year or so.

---

Oh my goodness, this took me back to almost my first story in this fandom! I have 22 Magicians fics posted, so that's almost all of them...

I think my favorite of all of these is Maybe This Time, just because I like starting off with such an iconic moment from canon. It's the kind of fic that I hope resonates with people differently upon a re-read, and I like the strong, instantly recognizable hook. You read that first line and you know where you are, but you have no real idea where the story is about to take you.

I've also had a lot of fun writing Julia in the Comet 'verse and I like her opening line to the first snippet I did for her!

---

I'll tag @hmgfanfic, @ameliajessica, @hoko-onchi-writes, @freneticfloetry, @honeybabydichotomy, @allegria23, @spiders-hth-is-an-outlier, @rubickk7, @portraitofemmy, @propinquitous, and all others who want to!!

[hollyxqx]

chained  //  yoongi  //  01

↪ PAIRING: Min Yoongi x Reader ↪ SUMMARY: Min Yoongi, a demon, has been ordered to protect you as punishment for his crimes; no matter what...and he's not happy about it. ↪ WORD COUNT: 6.3k 

↪ WARNINGS: dubious consent | blood | violence | attempted sexual assault | filthy demon sex

ONE | TWO | THREE

Her? Seriously?

Those were the first thoughts that entered Yoongi's mind when his target was revealed to him. He was sat on a chair in the courtroom with a guard on either side of him, each one had a hand on his shoulder to keep him in place. Not that he would have dared move, anyway. He had caused enough trouble, which had landed him in this precarious position in the first place. And now he was paying the price.

Being a demon there were rules and restrictions they had to follow; just like humans. Yoongi had broken not just one but many of them. He'd killed another demon. He'd killed an ancient demon, which was considered heinous. You were to respect your elders, not kill them. The ultimate sin. He was lucky he wasn't being obliterated.

Instead, his punishment was you.

Apparently you were important for a human. Just looking at you, Yoongi couldn't see why, you looked like every other human to him. But according to the Judge you were going to be the mother of a baby who allow demons to finally live freely on earth. Something his kind had strived for since being banished from the planet thousands of years ago. You were the one to change that. Allegedly.

He was ordered to protect you. At all costs. Your life was essentially in his hands. The last thing he wanted was this kind of responsibility, this burden. Especially considering if he failed and you died, he would too. A demon's death wasn't exactly painless either. It was far worse than any human could even imagine. It was the ultimate punishment.

"Do you have anything to say before you are banished to Earth?" The judge's voice reverberated throughout the room and straight through Yoongi. Even he found it frightening.

"No." Yoongi said, head hanging low. He had a smart mouth and did not trust himself to speak in that moment. Knowing him he would make it worse for himself.

"Then I hereby sentence you to protect the human Y/N. You may return when your task is complete."

With a pounding of the gavel, Yoongi's world went black as he was teleported to Earth to begin his prison sentence.

***

Earth always smelled strange to Yoongi. He had been here three times before, on hitman business of course, and it always smelled the same. Like humans, he thought to himself. Humans had a very distinct odour, it was their blood. They smelled metallic. Sometimes Yoongi could even smell their emotions, human pheromones were highly detectable by demons. Especially when they were scared or frightened, sometimes even when they were happy.

He had landed on the street that you lived on, but with nothing other than the clothes on his back. He looked down at his wrists. Tattoos had appeared around them, black intricate lace bands that looked pretty but were actually handcuffs, tying him to you. He peeked at his ankles, confirming his suspicion. Tattoos had appeared there too. Shackles to go with his handcuffs, he was a prisoner after all. He sighed. He needed to find some accommodation.

Instinctively he could sense you were near by. It must be part of the spell that was written within the tattoo. He assumed he would always be able to feel where you were and if you were in danger. He followed that feeling, walking to your apartment building. He would choose to stay here for convenience sake. If he had to save you at a moments notice at least he would be close by.

Yoongi walked in to the foyer. There was an office marked 'building manager' and he listened for a moment. His heightened sense of hearing allowing him to realise that no one was on the other side. He unlocked the door with force, breaking the handle as he did so and entered the room.

There was a filing cabinet to his right and he opened the top drawer and started rifling through. He was looking for a list of the building's tenants, for two reasons. One; he wanted to see if this definitely was your building and two; he wanted to see which would be the easiest apartment to take over. Ideally a single tenant. Dealing with a family would be...messy.

He hummed in satisfaction when he found exactly what it was looking for. His eyes quickly scanned the page and to his delight there Y/N L/N was. His instincts were right. Next he looked for his target. When he saw a single guys name in apartment 3B he knew that was where he would head next.

He put the file away and left the office, taking the stairs to the third floor. He reached 3B and knocked on the door. After a few seconds the door swung open and a middle aged man stood before him. "Hello," Yoongi said and used his powers to throw the man with extreme force backwards into his apartment. He hit the wall and instantly was unconscious. "Thanks for the apartment." Yoongi said, striding in and closing the door behind him.

Step one, completed.

***

You were struggling with your shopping bags as you awkwardly fumbled with the door to your building. It was your fault for going grocery shopping on an empty stomach. You practically bought everything in sight, your hunger getting the better of you. However, you managed to make it to the elevator and press the button for your floor. Just a few more minutes and you would be home and free of the heavy bags on your wrists.

You reached your apartment and as you struggled with the keypad one of your bags split open and the contents spilled all over the hallway. "Oh shit." You groaned at the mess. Carefully you placed the remaining bags on the floor and did your best to gather the spilled items. However one stray tin can had rolled away and you crept along after it.

"Does this belong to you?" An unknown hand had reached down and picked the can up, inspecting it with a smirk. His eyes went to you and he wiggled the can at you. You let out a slightly embarrassed laugh.

"Oh yes, guilty!" You smiled, standing up. "That's mine."

"Spaghetti hoops, huh?" He asked, grinning almost wickedly. Your face flushed with embarrassment and you cursed your impulse buying.

"I went shopping on an empty stomach, what can I say." He reached out and handed the can back to you. "Thanks."

"Do you need a hand with the rest?" He asked, gesturing to your shopping bags strewn on the floor.

"Oh no, it's ok, I got it. Thanks though." You replied with a wave of your hand.

"If you're sure..." He trailed off. "I'm new to the building. May I ask your name?"

"Welcome," You said brightly. "I'm Y/N. And you?"

His eyes flashed with something you didn't recognise and it made you uneasy.

"Yoongi."

***

Yoongi paced the length of his stolen apartment, mind ablaze. After meeting you in the flesh earlier that day he knew exactly why he had been assigned to you, of all humans. You weren't like the rest of them. He suddenly understood why you were so special. And it was all because he had an almost uncontrollable urge to eat you. He wanted to devour you slowly.

He'd never had that feeling for a human before, ever - and he had been around a lot of them. You didn't smell like any human he'd ever come across either. You smelled sweet. Like sugar. It was bizarre to him. He wasn't even aware that it was possible to feel this way about a human. To his knowledge it had never happened before. He couldn't even contact anyone in the demon world to ask for more information.

As he continued pacing he felt something strange in his chest. That's new, he thought. Was it you? He paused for a moment, closing his eyes trying to focus on the feeling. It was you. But it didn't feel good. Something was wrong.

Suddenly, he was overcome with the urge to find you as this new feeling in his chest worsened. He didn't know how he knew it but he was certain you were in danger. Immediately he left the apartment and just let his feet guide him, trusting his gut instinct. He made his way down the stairs and out the building. His chest was burning now, he knew you were close.

As he scanned the parking lot he spotted you. You were pressed up against the wall where the trash bins were, hidden away from the world and a man was holding you at gunpoint, trying to snatch your purse from you. Yoongi rushed over and using his demon strength he lifted the man by the scruff of his collar, easily pulling him off you. With his free hand he casually snatched the gun out of his hand, to prevent the man from doing any damage. Yoongi didn't miss the wide eyed look of shock on your face.

Yoon giacted on instinct, twisting the man's head, instantly snapping his spinal cord. He crumbled down to the ground in a heap, dead. You screamed.

"Are you ok?" Yoongi asked you. He could hear your heartbeat and the smell of your fear almost turned him on. It radiated from you, filling his nostrils and making his brain cloudy. You didn't reply. "Are you?" He urged.

"Y-y-you, you - he's d-dead." You stuttered, raising a shaky hand to point at the body. Yoongi hadn't even thought twice about killing the man. He was a demon. Killing humans was normal for him. They were weak and inferior, their lives didn't mean much to him.

"He was going to kill you." Yoongi stated the obvious.

"You can't just kill people!" You hissed. He shrugged.

"He was only human. Not much of a loss." He said simply. Your face twisted in confusion at his words. No one told him he couldn't tell you what he was. He wasn't breaking any rules....as far as he was aware. "How did this even happen?" He asked, gesturing to the body.

"He followed me home..." You whispered. Yoongi closed his eyes for a moment. You're trembling voice and frightened demeanour combined with the smell of you was threatening to overcome him. He needed to be in control and you were making it difficult. "Why did you do that?" You asked shakily.

His eyes slowly opened again. "To save you."

"How did you know where I was?" You looked at him with such large, innocent doe eyes it almost made him want to bite into your flesh there and then. If only you knew what a monster he was, you wouldn't be gazing at him like that.

"I felt it." He said, eyes hardening as he looked at you. You looked bewildered.

"You...felt it?" You queried. He nodded. "How?"

"I'm not what you think I am, Y/N." He said quietly. "Go inside. I'll get rid of him." You didn't move and it frustrated him. He strode over to you and in one swift move, picked you up and forcibly took you back in to the building. He ignored your cries to put you down until you were at the elevators. "Go home." He instructed, giving you one more stern look before walking away.

"Wait!" You shouted but he ignored you. He had a body to dispose of.

***

It had been hours since you made it home and your heart was still hammering in your chest. What you had just witnessed outside made you question everything about your strange new neighbour. He had said some incredibly odd things that you could not forget, no matter how hard you tried to push them out of your mind. Yet, without him there was a high chance you would have been six feet under now. The thought made you restless, doing nothing to calm your shaking hands.

You thought about trying to find Yoongi's apartment, in a wild attempt to pry any answers you could from the man. You realised, with a sigh, you had no idea which door belonged to him. You'd have to wait for another chance encounter, and even then, you weren't guaranteed anything.

You made yourself some tea and with trembling hands you wandered over to the window ledge. Looking at the night sky was always calming to you and you loved this little nook where you could sit in your apartment. All you wanted now was calmness, after the chaos of the earlier evening. However something caught your eye in the parking lot. It was Yoongi.

He was stalking across the concrete, almost prowling and you noticed something animalistic in the way that he moved. His shoulders were hunched slightly and his brow furrowed with what looked like fury. It sent a shiver through you. It was only when he crudely used the back of his forearm to wipe his mouth clean did you notice the blood on his face. It covered the whole lower half, spilling down on to his neck and shirt. Was he injured? What was going on?

It was as if he could feel your eyes on him. As if by magic he paused, looking up directly to your window. You gasped, spilling some tea on the ground as you leapt back, caught. How could he have possibly known you were standing there? It was late, and dark. Any normal person would be long asleep.

You waited a moment before cautiously leaning forward to peek out the window again, but he was gone.

***

Weeks turned in to months and although you didn't see Yoongi you never forgot about him. It was strange to you how he could just vanish like that and you even questioned that he might have moved out. You were just going to have to accept that this person did something heroic for you once upon a time and that was it. Part of you wanted to thank him but you'd never be able to.

You were sitting at the red light, fingers aimlessly drumming along to the car stereo as you hummed along with the song. You were in no real rush to get home so you didn't mind the wait. Suddenly, a banging on the window caused you to almost leap out your seat. You turned to the source of the noise, mouth falling agape when your eyes locked with Yoongi.

"Get out the car!" He practically screamed, banging furiously on the window. He tried to open the driver door but it was locked, the handle clicking adding to his frustration. You were utterly bewildered. "Y/N listen to me! You need to get out now."

You rolled the window down as you frowned in confusion. "What are you talking about?" You asked, incredulously.

Yoongi said nothing, leaning inside the open window and unlocking the door. He then proceeded to swing the drivers door wide open and made quick work of your seatbelt. He ignored your cries of protest, choosing to essentially rip you out of the car. In a moment you were in his arms being dragged to the pavement. "What the hell are you doing?!" You yelled, hitting your fists against his chest, struggling in his grip.

He said nothing, however your question was answered for you when a car came careering into the side of yours, crushing the metal where you had been sitting only moments ago. The sound of metal hitting metal rang in your ears and you gasped loudly in shock. "Saving your ass, again. You're welcome." Yoongi said almost smugly. He let go of you and you almost crumpled into a heap, legs weak from fright.

"H-how? How did you know?" Your voice was hoarse. You looked up at him wide eyed in terror.

"I felt that you were in trouble." Was his vague reply, much the same as the last time you had questioned him.

"That would have killed me." You stated the obvious. "You saved my life. Again."

"You're a fucking headache, you know that?" Yoongi said suddenly angry, pointing a finger at you. "You're the most troublesome human I've ever come across."

There he went using the word 'human' again, almost as if it was an insult. As if he wasn't human himself. "I didn't ask you to do that!" You retorted, matching his anger. "That was your choice!"

"It's not my fucking choice." He uttered darkly. His eyes narrowed at you. "Stay out of trouble, Y/N." And with that he turned to leave. You were quick this time though, reaching out to grab his forearm, stopping him in his tracks. He turned slowly to look at you.

"What does that mean?" You asked. He shook his head, refusing to answer. "Will you at least let me thank you properly this time?"

"How are you going to do that?" He scoffed, shrugging your arm off him.

"I was hoping you could tell me." You offered, somewhat shyly. You couldn't let him get away this time and disappear for months again. "Let me just sort out my car and I'll buy you coffee or food or something. Please."

You didn't care how desperate you sounded, you just need to make sure he wouldn't leave. He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Fine, whatever."

***

Yoongi couldn't believe he was sitting opposite you in a fucking human coffee shop of all places. The only reason he'd even agreed to it, aside from the pitiful look on your face, was because he was getting bored living on earth. All he did was wait around for you to get in some petty human danger so he could step in and save the day. After months he'd had enough.

The two of you were sat in a quiet corner of the coffee shop as you sipped a latter. Yoongi had ordered as well but he didn't drink it, he just didn't want to pique your curiosity and invite awkward questions by not ordering anything. After all, you thought you were doing him a favour. He smirked to himself. Cute, he thought. Humans are dumb.

"Will you tell me how you knew where I was today?" You asked in a small voice, stirring your coffee absent mindedly. Yoongi audibly sighed.

"Call it intuition." He replied, watching you curiously. He'd never seen you in daylight before and he took the time to study your features. You were attractive, by human standards, that was for sure. His eyes roamed your face, down to your neck and he could see the veins there. It took everything in him not to lick his lips as he imagined his teeth sinking into your flesh.

"Intuition..." You repeated, your voice trailing off. "Is it the same intuition that brought you to me before? That night I was mugged?"

Yoongi nodded.

"You're like my guardian angel or something." You joked, letting out a little laugh.

"I'm no angel, Y/N." He said darkly. You watched him carefully. "Trust me."

"What are you?" You said quietly, eyes never leaving his.

"I'm a bad guy." He said, unable to resist enjoying how you visibly tensed at the words. He couldn't help it, he loved when you were scared. He licked his lips. "I'd be your worst nightmare if I was allowed."

"What does that mean?" You asked cautiously.

"I told you before; I'm not what you think I am." Yoongi replied, leaning his forearms on the table, edging closer to you. "Human." He whispered deviously. Your face contorted in confusion, mouth falling open in shock.

"Human?" You whispered. "What are you?"

"Let's just say...I'm a prisoner." He offered.

"I don't understand." You frowned.

"You're not supposed to." Yoongi couldn't help but crack a smile at your expression. Oddly, he enjoyed teasing you. "I guess you'll be needing a ride home?" He asked, switching the subject. Yoongi had recently been able to acquire a car, having learned to drive a long time ago.

"Oh...." Your voice faded away at the realisation. "Yeah. Yeah I will."

"Follow me." He instructed, slipping out of his chair and making his way to the door. You reluctantly trailed behind.

***

Months passed again and still no sign of Yoongi.

It wasn't like you missed him exactly. It was more a winding curiosity about him. After the day he joined you for coffee and dropped you home you felt like you had even more questions than before.

A thought occurred to you, maybe there was a way you could summon him. He appeared whenever you were in danger, so logically...if you were in danger again, that would cause him to show his face, right? Why didn't you realize this earlier? You could have seen him months ago. The only question now was, how exactly do you put yourself in harms way without dying or getting seriously injured.

Acting on impulse you grabbed your jacket and keys and made your way outside. You had an idea. A risky one, nonetheless, but an idea.

You made your way downtown, to an area you knew was dodgy, especially at this time of night. It was notorious for prostitution and gang violence, often appearing in the news when there were gun related deaths. A place you'd never go before, but now you had a guardian angel. You had a sense of confidence you didn't have before.

As you walked you heard catcalls and whistles from the men sat drinking on the side of the street. You ignored them as you strode by, unsure of what the next part of your plan should be. However you didn't have to think for too long because someone was approaching you.

"Hey baby, how much?" A man was leering over you, a sneer on his lips. He had a silver tooth and a menacing looking face tattoo, like a stereotypical bad guy.

"I-I-I'm not a - " You stammered, backing away from him. He noticed and grabbed your forearm, snatching you close to him.

"I know a whore when I see one." He breathed, his disgusting breath tickling your face. You screwed your face up at the sensation, trying to yank your arm back. His grip only tightened.

"You've got the wrong idea!" You shouted, struggling in his grasp. "I'm not."

"So does that mean you're free then?" He smirked. Before you knew it he was pulling you down an alley, his strength overwhelming you. You stumbled along behind him, fighting him the entire way. He seemed to enjoy your suffering.

He stopped under a light on the side of a building, harshly pushing you up against the brick wall, caging you in with the weight of his body. You heard him grunt as he gripped your hips tightly, pressing his hard length against you.

"Stop, please!" You whined, beating your fists against his chest. He had the audacity to laugh in your face.

He ripped open your blouse, buttons flying off and landed somewhere in the distance. The fear started bubbling in your chest and you began to scream. "Shut the fuck up." He hissed, a hand flying to your mouth, pressing his palm against your lips to muffle the sound. With his free hand he fumbled with his zipper on his jeans. You panicked and started to thrash against him but this only made him wedge his knee against you to hold you still.

Your jeans were next to go, shoved down to your knees along with your underwear. You started to panic, eyes wildly searching for any sign of Yoongi. Surely he would know you were in danger and come swooping in any moment now? The alley was deserted aside from you and the creep and some trash cans.

This was really happening. You were an idiot.

The man's hot breath was against your neck as he kneed your legs apart. You felt yourself start to sob, fighting to keep your legs closed. Before he could do the thinkable he was torn away from you, leaving you to collapse in a heap on the ground. Your theory had been right. Yoongi was here.

You watched as Yoongi threw the man on the ground as if he was a rag doll, giving him a harsh kick to the side as a good measure. The man groaned and rolled over but Yoongi wasn't done yet. He stood over him and picked him up by the throat, high enough that his feet dangled off of the ground. The man was choking and spluttering, grasping at the arm Yoongi was using to strangle him.

Yoongi's eyes were dark and thunderous, narrowed in to slits. His strength was terrifying. The man's eyes started to bulge as blood started to pour from his mouth. He was thrown to the ground and Yoongi was left standing there, pieces of the man's throat still clutched in his fist and you realised what had happened. He'd torn the man's throat out with his bare hand. Your mouth hung open in shock.

It was as if he finally remembered you were there, dark eyes turning towards you. He stalked over to you and for a moment you felt pure, unadulterated fear, wondering what was going to happen next. Instead, he offered a hand to you and you scrambled to your feet. His eyes shifted uncomfortably, desperately trying to avoid looking at your naked lower half and you hastily pulled your jeans and underwear back up. However, your top was still broken and you shivered exposed in the cold night air.

"Here." Yoongi was offering you his leather jacket and as he looked at your bare chest you blushed. You slipped it on, zipping it up. "What the fuck are you even doing here?!" He hissed. You finally met his eyes and you could see his jaw was clenched, a vein popping in his neck.

"I was walking." You said quietly.

"In this area? Are you fucking stupid?!"

"I-I didn't realise."

"You are a fucking nightmare." Yoongi gripped you by the elbow and began to drag you out of the alley. You followed almost dutifully behind, scared to speak incase he got angrier.

You didn't get any catcalls this time as you walked with his protective arm over you. He said nothing as you walked and you knew by the route he was taking that you were headed back home.

"I'm sorry!" You eventually squeaked. He gave you a dark look.

"Do you do this crazy shit on purpose?" He muttered. You remained silent.

It wasn't long before he was leading your shaking body into your apartment, closing the door behind you. You realised this was the first time he'd ever been inside your home. You stood awkwardly a few feet apart from each other. His head was low, avoiding looking at you. "Thanks for saving me. Again."

"It's not my choice." He uttered lowly. He looked tense, almost as if he was in pain.

"Still. I appreciate it."

"I've never seen a human who gets themselves into so many dangerous situations. Have you ever thought you might be cursed?" He sneered, running a distressed hand through his hair. He began pacing your living room, almost as if he was frantic.

"Um...are you ok?" You asked tentatively.

He didn't stop pacing. "It's you." He said gesturing to you, still not meeting your eyes. "I can't deal with this."

"No one's forcing you to help me!" You replied. He let out a mocking laugh.

"That's exactly it y/n. Someone is forcing me to help you. I don't have a choice." He stopped pacing to look at you. "You are my punishment, because being around you was the worst thing the council could think of."

"What?" You stammered, bewildered.

"See these?" He rolled up his sleeves, showing you his wrists where there were intricate black, almost lacy tattoos. "And this?" He yanked down the collar of his t-shirt and you saw a similar pattern around his neck. "These are spells. They are shackles, tying me to you. I couldn't escape you even if I tried."

"Spells? What are you talking about? This is a weird joke, Yoongi."

"Do you know what I am, y/n?" He said huskily, licking his lips. You were frightened again. He took a step towards you and you took one back. "I'm a demon."

"No you're not." You utter weakly, not entirely convinced of the words yourself.

"But I am." He took another step forward. "How do you explain half of the stuff you've seen me do then? Hmm?"

"I-I don't know."

He stood an arms length away from you now. "It's torture for me being around you."

"Why?" You whispered, feeling a little guilty and a little let down.

"Because the smell of your blood drives me fucking crazy."

He was mere inches from your face now and you noticed his eyes were a different colour than they were before. Instead of the black orbs you had become familiar with his eyes were a fiery hazel shade, blazing with something you didn't quite recognise. Whatever it was, it made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up.

"So you are a vampire now?" You shot back, feigning all the confidence you didn't have in that moment. He chuckled lowly, shaking his head.

"I told you what I am. Demon's have bloodlust too." He gripped the jacket you were wearing - his jacket - and pulled you towards him. "Your scent is going to be all over this now." He murmured.

"Is that a bad thing?" Your voice came out whisper like. It was overwhelming to be this close to him. A demon. Someone you've watched kill twice now. Someone who could kill you in a heartbeat.

"No. It's not."

His head dipped low into the crook of your neck, nose running over the skin. You should have pushed him away but something in you was almost enjoying it. After a few moments his lips brushed your neck and instantly you felt your skin heat up at his touch. He planted a soft kiss  before you felt his tongue lap at your flesh. It was dizzyingly pleasurable. He must have been enjoying it as well because he groaned.

His teeth began to scrape at your skin and you panicked. He was going to bite you. "Yoongi," You said fearfully, trying to push him away. "Stop."

It was almost as if you had burned him because he leapt away from you. His eyes were spaced, almost as if he was drunk, lips plump and swollen. "Sorry. I didn't mean to. I got carried away."

"Is it because of my...my blood?" You asked curiously. He nodded.

"I should go. Are you going to be able to stay out of trouble or do I need to stay and babysit you human?" He asked.

"Stay." The words left your lips before you could think about it. He quirked an eyebrow at you, as if questioning your sincerity. "I feel...safe when you're around."

"You shouldn't."

***

Yoongi lay on your sofa for that night, staring at the ceiling, still trying to process the fact that he was there. He'd agreed to stay for one night, neglecting to tell you the fact that being around you almost made him feel drunk on your scent. It only got worse the longer her spent around you. It was bordering on torturous now.

The sound of your footsteps interrupted his internal turmoil. You padded barefoot on the carpet to the kitchen, passing him as you went. He decided to get up and follow you. He nearly groaned out loud when he saw you were in nothing but an oversized tshirt. "Y/N." He spoke lowly. You gasped and dropped the glass you had been drinking water from. It smashed on the floor.

"Yoongi! You startled me."

He crossed the room using his entire body to push you up against the counter. You stumbled backward and he caged you in with his arms against the granite. "You can't wear stuff life this around me." He growled. His eyes swept your flimsy t-shirt. It was clear you didn't have a bra on. Yoongi wondered if you even had panties on.

"It's just a t-shirt." You said almost breathlessly.

"You don't understand how being around you affects me." He clutched at material of your shirt, balling it in his fist. He could barely contain himself when he heard your breath hitch.

"Yoongi." You whispered. His head dipped down to your neck, nose running over the flesh. You smelled even better than earlier. "What are you doing?"

He didn't answer you, instead choosing to lick a long, hot stripe up your neck and to your jaw, giving him a small taste of you. He felt your skin ripple with goosebumps. You were frozen as he kissed your jaw, then your cheeks and then finally capturing your lips with his. To his surprise you let him, kissing him back, even moaning when his tongue slipped into your mouth.

Yoongi's brain was foggy as his tongue slid against yours, wet and dirty.  He pressed himself into you harder, a hand running up your shirt to grip your bare hip, keeping you in place against him. You gasped and pulled away when you felt his erection. It only made him move back to your neck where he started to suck on your skin. It was the only thing holding him back from biting you.

"I want you so bad, it's hurting me y/n." He said, slipping his other hand up your shirt and grinding his hips against you. "You feel that? You feel how hard I am. That's you."

"Can you even have sex?" You blurted, breath short from want.

He smirked. "Yep. And so much more."

He moved, lifting you up and placing you on the counter as you wrapped your legs around his waist. Lips returned to yours as his hands wandered over your breasts, twisting and rolling your nipples in his hands. As if on autopilot he lifted your shirt up and off your body so he could look at you, tossing it to the floor with little regard.

"Are you going to fuck me?" You asked, looking at him coyly.

"I'm going to ruin you." He replied devilishly.

Hands fisted your underwear, tearing them clean off your body as if to drive his point home. The elastic snapped against your skin. Yoongi stroked the outside of your bare pussy, keening when you shivered.

"Please touch me."

His finger slipped into your folds and he moaned out loud feeling how wet you were already. You wanted him too and it made his ego swell. "You've wanted this for a while haven't you? Wanted me to touch you like this?"

"N-no." You stammered.

"Lying is what bad girls do." He stopped stroking you and you whined. "I won't touch you again until you tell the truth."

"Yoongi, please."

His lips returned to your neck as his fingers danced over your thighs, teasing you. "That's why you were naughty tonight right? You wanted to see me. You've been thinking about me a lot huh?"

"Ok fine." You groaned. "I wanted to see you. I wanted you."

"Good girl."

He resumed touching you and enjoyed how you squirmed beneath him but the hardness between his legs was beginning to ache. He unzipped his jeans freeing his cock and pressed the tip of it at your entrance, gripping the back of your thighs. He was still fully clothed and you had a death grip on his t-shirt.

"Wait," You panted, pushing his chest. "Condom."

"I'm not human." He laughed. "You can't get pregnant."

Unable to wait any longer he pushed inside of you swiftly. You wailed at the stretch. He knew he was big and he knew he should have gone a bit slower but he was loosing any and all inhibitions. He started to fuck in to you, rough and controlling. You squeezed your eyes shut as you clung to him.

"Y/N." He whispered, tongue languidly lapping at your neck once more. He couldn't stay away. "I'm going to bite you."

You protested, shaking your head desperately but Yoongi was gone, past the point of no return. His teeth sank into your flesh and you cried out. He knew it would only hurt for second before the endorphins took over. A long, hot, red line dripped down your chest between your breasts. He moaned against your skin as he sucked the blood into his mouth. You tasted even better than he imagined.

Your pussy squeezed around him as you came, it made him light headed. Yoongi had to physically tear himself away from your neck before he did any real damage. He was scared he wouldn't be able to stop if he didn't.

Yoongi came a few thrusts later inside of you.

He pulled away to look at you as he came down from his high, feeling completely and utterly blissed out. You gave him a dreamy look. "Are you ok?" He said, voice low and breath ragged. You nodded. He gently put you down, a stark contrast to how he was fucking you before, his lust fuelled frenzy over.

"I'm going to be sore tomorrow." You said as you hobbled over to your discarded shirt and slipped it on. He readjusted his clothes and made himself decent as well. "Are you still going to stay?"

Yoongi scoffed. "I said I would didn't I?!"

"I'm going to go clean up." You looked at him as if you wanted to say something else but didn't. You left the kitchen and the regret of what he had done immediately began to sink in. He'd had sex with a human.

↪ chapter 02 

masterlist

[zuzuslastbraincell]

fun world-building facts about the eyeliner incident:

so the main canon divergence is that roku killed sozin, instead of just chilling in his cottage for ~50 years. he ended up leading a coalition force against him, in prep for civil war, although was able to bait him out to an erupting volcano and kill him at the age of 40 or 50 or so. roku then lived for another 100 years (hardly out of character for an avatar to do so).

roku went further, though, and after killing sozin, declared there would be no more fire lords in the avatar state. this split the fire nation into monarchists and anti-monarchists, essentially, and there was still a fair bit of civil unrest/war after sozin’s death because not everyone agreed.

a lot of monarchists ran off to the colonies after sozin was killed, to protect their assets, to protect their lives, as a place to hide out until the storm blew over (it did not blow over) and to regroup for a next assault (which did not succeed).

this was fine, until a second phase: roku wanted to give the radicals in his coalition a leading voice in the next government to be. a lot of people disagreed. in the colonies (many of which had officially been handed back to the earth kingdom), there were riots, lots of dissent, etc. amongst fire nationals.

when the north western earth kingdom became the site of resistance against radicals in the fire nation (as roku’s opposition to sozin was based on a coalition of liberal nobles and bureaucrats & emerging radical workers syndicates), a lot of monarchists & ultranationalists ended up emigrating with the initial wave of noble émigrés, and eventually, some of the more liberal nobles supporting roku turned against them as well. (this is also how roku’s youngest daughter, rina, who was married off to a sozin loyalist in a hostage situation organised by sozin, ends up in the earth kingdom - she and her husband defect, and initially support roku, but seeing the radicals that he is genuinely helping and supporting, they move to the earth kingdom). the reputation of this second wave depends on province - ex-soldiers are always hated, and the north west & regions in close proximity despise the fire nation, but the east & ba sing se has always been quite hospitable, & many have dual bases in ba sing se and the northwest. the ba sing se nobility, over time, mingle more and more with high profile fire nation ��migrés who have property.

fire nationals in the earth kingdom are thus culturally different, usually, to fire nation citizens in the modern fire nation. more likely to be monarchists, more likely to hold sympathetic sentiment to azulon etc. (though most agree - publically - that sozin went too far, even if they think azulon should have his crown in private), and a lot of their styles of fashion, music, art, dance etc. is based on a lot of “antiquated” “old fashioned” fire nation traditions with some earth kingdom ideas mixed in. to fire nation residents, they just look at least 80 years out of date.

fire nation descendants in the earth kingdom are more likely to be involved with particular organised crime syndicates (the triads, as opposed to ones with other names). this is because after the war ended abruptly with sozin’s death, a lot ex-mercenaries and ex-soldiers stationed in the colonies/northwest began to find work/business through protection racketeering (in absence of organised govt. in the north-western earth kingdom). even in the modern day, the north west has problems with corruption, control, and is economically quite deprived despite having massive resources and that’s an after-effect of colonialism and attempts by the national government to ‘penalise’ the officials in that region for colluding with fire nation nationals/ex-colonists (very exasperating for genuine earth kingdom officials, and earth kingdom locals). roku did try and help the region but he’s generally disliked for lots of reasons & was trying to stop the fire nation from collapsing after supporting the radicals (a controversial decision!) and facing counter-revolutionary violence. i think roku felt like he neglected the fire nation for the earth kingdom in his youth and that’s why sozin was able to get as far as he did, so i think he made the very difficult decision to prioritise trying to sort out the fire nation. hence why yu dao is in a bit of a state. i imagine yu dao (republic city) is a big buzzing city but has those same problems with organised crime we see in lok.

the sozin dynasty, as azulon & his descendants are called, aren’t an exception to this involvement in organised crime. a lot of people were actually quite sympathetic to a young azulon after his father was killed at around the age of fifty or so, including fire nationals in the earth kingdom, but also the nobility in the earth kingdom, themselves staunch monarchists, who saw sozin as the problem and not the system of monarchy itself. all of this allowed azulon & his family to flee the caldera & manage to transfer a number of their assets with relative ease; they were never penniless, despite the sob story you might here.

azulon set up links with local businesses who were run by sympathisers, as well as organised crime syndicates, and through wise purchases, good advisors, & some savvy of his own, shifted from aristocracy to bourgeoisie with relative ease, & bought/negotiated their place at the negotiating table, to eventually come to be considered the lead stakeholder in those crime syndicates (with enough distance, though, as not to be suspicious). very much saved his name from being a laughing stock through his own ability there, but if you’d hear the story told, people who say that folks were deferential to him in part because of his lineage (sometimes, but not always true - the revolution had caused people to doubt).

regarding his sons, iroh had far more involved in organised crime and illegitimate business than ozai, who essentially looked after the more boring legitimate side of things (but took that role seriously and expanded it beyond being a simple front). iroh actually had a worse reputation up until azulon died, and was just considered a very competent but cut-throat political/business leader/general player with a lot of very very shady links that couldn’t quite be proven, but also like, was famously quite charming and well-liked in the high society ba sing se network. like, i want to be honest to show iroh here - he was bad! in the show, he was a war criminal! i mentioned he was a war profiteer (largely because ‘war criminal’ doesn’t make as much sense imo), and that was almost definitely regarding civil wars/coups that have been attempted in the fire nation & earth kingdom. this stopped when lu ten ended up being shot in the crossfire during a turf war and rather than pursuing a violent vendetta, iroh stepped out of the spotlight and let ozai take over the reigns more.

anyway, after zuko was burned for attempting to stand up to ozai, iroh basically faked his own death and completely ditched anything left of what he’d spent his life building in order to whisk zuko away and invent new identities for themselves in the fire nation (ironically) where they worked as tea shop workers (yes. li and mushi, still canon). i don’t think they live in the caldera, since cameras/photos mean it’s easier to be tracked, and zuko probably lives somewhere quiet-ish like ember island. zuko has a decent adolescence, considering, after he’s estranged. no “find the avatar” in this universe, for fairly obvious reasons.

i’m not an expert in organised crime by any means but hopefully this all makes sense. a lot of what azulon/iroh/ozai is doing, through the purchase of land, the control of business, the use of organised crime as an illicit form of govt. essentially is a form of colonisation, where the region is deprived due to fire nation business interests and in earth kingdom control in name only. corruption and close ties between ba sing se and fire nation émigrés mean that centralised govt is underfunding & turning a blind eye to it (which, in canon, ba sing se does, ‘no war in ba sing se’ etc.). most of the colonisation efforts are centred in the north-west, but azula is brought up in ba sing se given it’s far more reputable/prestigious, though she’s undoubtedly been to both places.

as for what’s happening in the fire nation, i feel like aesthetically it’s a little different - ba sing se is ancient buildings with sky trains, lots of urban sprawl & a very wide and endless city, whereas i imagine the caldera is a very tall city due to limited space available, more skyscrapers in the fire nation due to limits in islands. also, the fire nation has sea trains and submarine trains/tunnels, because. politically? haven’t quite decided but they’re some flavour of anarchist-communist (was reluctant to use that word in the fic itself because people have all kinds of interpretations of it, often very negative knee-jerk responses to it, but essentially: community-owned services and businesses and spaces instead of privately-owned ones, with egalitarian principles enshrined into the culture & identity now) over there if i’m honest, with lots of democratic councils. obviously i don’t think it’ll be perfect and i imagine ‘the national question’ is something that comes up a lot, with some difficulties between national & regional identity (imo the fire nation is very diverse, we see the sun warriors and then the sages who help korra in s2 are from different groups/cultures than the militaristic one that rose to prominence in the 100 year war and i hc a lot of that regional diversity was steamrolled for sozin’s imperialist project).

ANYWAY

there’s a reason i made this post on my main last week:

this is getting very long but hopefully this is some insight into what i’ve been thinking about when i made this AU

[noreasonreally]

I hadn't spoken to my father in a year. When I was 19, I sent that final text - although I can't remember what it said, it was the last words I said to him before blocking his number. My paternal grandfather, the one who molested me as a child (though I repressed that for years), would take me out to lunch, ask how college was, and spend some time trying to convince me to speak to my father again.

Looking back, it makes perfect sense to me that he didn't take me seriously. At the time, I was just getting hurt over and over again. Every time I reiterated that my father's behavior was unacceptable and not going to change - the damage is done, and so am I - the response would essentially be, "But he's the only dad you'll ever have. It wasn't that bad, was it?"

My mom understood me, but had fled to Colorado after the divorce. My brother was busy being a paramedic, and he didn't understand what my problem was, either. I had a boyfriend, that I basically lived with by the time I was 20; his brother and his brother's girlfriend would join us for lazy afternoons and wild nights. I was too fucked up on my own personal turmoil to really be as present with them as they deserved, but I also found better men to be with along the line. A pretty decent first boyfriend, all said.

Graduation was a little tricky - I wasn't technically getting my degree yet, but all I needed were the two classes over the summer, since I had finished the Music Business program. A math class and a resume-building class - so stupid, but I would take care of it. It was the only graduation ceremony I'd had; K-12 was pretty uneventful as a home-schooled kid. I was so salty about having to go straight to college in the first place, that I didn't care about my high school graduation party; it was combined with my 17th birthday party, as well.

So I graduate. My brother and grandfather are the only ones who have said they'll be there; my grandparents on my Mom's side forgot, or I forgot to tell them, or something embarrassing like that, that we've never talked about.

I get the degree holder, I walk across the stage and smile at my boyfriend, his brother, and his brother's girlfriend. My professor and advisor stands at the end, mimicking the way I reacted to my friends' graduation the previous year, and we laugh. We take a picture together.

The ceremony ends, and in a rush of pride, I find my boyfriend and ask if he's seen my brother (the only one he'd recognize). Then I get a call from my brother: he had to leave on an ambulance run, but he was supposed to tell me to meet my grandfather and my father at the Dairy Queen the next town over.

My heart crumbles. I start crying. Not one of my family members will be here to celebrate with me. Not one.

I hide in the bathroom for as long as I can without making my boyfriend and his brother and his brother's girlfriend wait too long. I try to tidy up my makeup. I forget to get the DVD of the ceremony to send to my Mom, because I just want to forget any of this happened, I just need to get away from the other 20-year-olds with their happy families.

I get into my car with my boyfriend. He says he brought a bottle of whiskey, and we drink from the bottle before driving back to his apartment. The three of them have decorated with streamers, banners, balloons, and confetti.

And that's the story of when I felt the most abandoned. The most hurt.

I'm certain I've posted this story before, but maybe not as coherently, or completely; certainly not with the repressed memories and hindsight I now have. And I don't wake up every day thinking about this, or anything; I've moved on fairly well from a lot of things.

The main reason I felt the need to type this all out, and (maybe?) post it on fucking tumblr, is that it really happened. And sometimes I forget that I'm not making it all up. Especially now that I'm living in my Mom's basement until I find a place closer to work, especially now that my brother is constantly in and out of the same house and talking like my father (because of course they still talk), especially now that I'm forced to confront my insecurities and familial issues every damn day... I need to remember that this really happened.

I'm not making things up, no matter how badly anyone (including myself) wants to believe that. I'm not crazy for feeling like I can't trust my family, or rely on them to be there for my biggest moments. It's not an unnatural defense mechanism, for me to push them away when I'm going through something deeply personal and important.

It's incredibly important for me to examine, and maintain, my boundaries, especially with my family, who are the source of many anxieties. And at no point do I need to be "done" working on this - at no point do I need to make myself smaller, or seem "normal," or let them bulldoze a conversation - and at no point do I need to force myself through the process, either.

This is a big wound for me, obviously. And the ceremony itself can be considered so unimportant to many people, and I respect that. But this was symbolic of my entire adulthood up to that point, and changed how I approached my adulthood beyond it. I didn't finish the two classes, I didn't go to a 4-year college, and I certainly didn't ask for help with my PTSD. I didn't even know I had PTSD until years later.

The moral of the story is, sometimes you need to type out an old wound in story format to feel like it's not rattling around in your head anymore. And sometimes you need to post it on a website that you've used for over a decade, because tucking it away between funny jokes just feels natural. And sometimes this happens like 5 days before your appointment with a new psychologist and you're kind of scared of what's going to happen, so you cope in ways that are actually pretty healthy, all things considered.

[sachigram]

Catharsis

((click here to read on ao3!))

The first thing Izaya notices when he wakes up is that the room is too damn bright. He always remembers to close his curtains, as his hours are all over the place, and blackout curtains are essential for any sleep he might salvage.

The second thing he notices is that he's definitely not in his bed, and he can't remember why he wouldn't be.

“Izaya-kun, easy. You hit your head.”

Well, that explains a few things. Izaya turns to look at Shinra, squinting up at him.

“'S too bright...” he murmurs, and Shinra frowns.

“You say that every time, but the curtains are closed. You want me to get you a sleep mask?”

“Every time?” Izaya asks, closing his eyes and ignoring Shinra's stupid question. He tries to remember what he was doing before, but it's all a blur. “What day is it?”

“It's Tuesday. You've been here for two days, and you have a concussion. I've been monitoring you, so you're fine, but your memory might be hazy for a while.”

Izaya hums, used to injuries by this point. It's not the first time he's woken in an unfamiliar bed, and it won't be the last. He licks his lips and notices how dry they are.

“Can I have some water?”

“Yeah, and you're probably starving too, huh? You've barely eaten.” Shinra gives Izaya a firm look as he says this, and Izaya blinks up at him, confused. Shinra's face returns to its normal dopey grin quickly. “I'll be right back.”

Izaya is asleep again before Shinra returns.

The next time Izaya wakes, it's to raised voices.

“You keep saying he's fine, but he's not fine! He can't even focus his eyes for a goddamn minute!” Shizuo. Is that Shizuo? Why would Shizuo be at Izaya's bedside, worried for him?

“He has a head injury. Besides, his body is likely catching up on sleep and fluids. He's not in very good shape,” Shinra says, and Izaya feels there's an IV in his arm. He keeps his face smooth, impassive. It won't do him any good to open his eyes to Shizuo's looming presence.

“Bullshit, the flea does constant cardio. He's gotta be in great shape by now,” Shizuo says, and Izaya hears Shinra sigh.

“Just go home, Shizuo-kun. I told you I'd call you when he's awake and lucid. It won't be good for him to wake up to you here. He'll be scared and might run for it, which will make him worse.”

“I'm not gonna do anything to him! I'm just making sure he's alive!”

“I know that, but he won't. And he's confused enough without you adding to it.”

Shizuo makes a grumbling noise, and then there are footsteps leading down the hall before the distinct sound of a door opening and closing.

“Before you ask,” Shinra says, and Izaya knows it's addressed to him, “Shizuo-kun is worried sick about you, and it's only confirming my suspicions that he's smitten with you.”

“Ha,” Izaya mutters, and when he opens his eyes again, he finds it's not as bright as last time. “Why was he here?”

“He's the one that brought you here. He said he was chasing you and you collapsed off a building.”

“Oh, whatever. He probably slammed my head into a wall and then felt guilty about it.”

“It's possible,” Shinra agrees, “but your blood sugar was extremely low at the time, so it added credibility to his story.” Shinra settles into the chair by the bed, and Izaya glares at the ceiling, knowing what's next. “You're going to kill yourself if you don't start taking care of yourself.”

“I'm busy. I was working and then he started chasing me. It was his fault.”

“You always say it's his fault.”

“Well, it always is!” Izaya sits up and glowers at Shinra. “I keep odd hours, you know that. I don't mean to forget to take care of things, it just happens.”

“That excuse was good the first few times, but I'm really starting to think you do it on purpose.”

“What are you, a concerned mother? Either way, you get my business and my money, so it hardly matters.” Izaya looks down at the IV. “Can I take this out? I need to use the bathroom.”

Shinra gives him a long look before reaching down and taking the IV out himself. Izaya tentatively puts his feet on the ground and stands, feeling wobbly as he does so. Wordlessly, Shinra moves closer and offers his shoulder, and Izaya holds on gratefully and allows Shinra to help him down the hallway.

“I'm going to make something to eat,” Shinra says, his voice muffled through the bathroom door.

Izaya doesn't respond. He sits on the toilet, too weak to keep standing, and when he washes his hands afterwards he has to lean on the sink. His reflection is horrible to look at. He's paler than normal, eyes dark underneath, lips dry and chapped. His cheekbones look too sharp. His hair is going everywhere.

Izaya grumbles and reaches into his pocket for his lip balm, but he isn't surprised to find it missing. Shinra always empties the pockets of his patients for safety reasons.

When Izaya opens the door, he's relieved to see Shinra isn't there waiting on him, but it's short lived, as Celty is quickly approaching him, her body language open and relaxed in his presence, which is odd for her. Shinra must have told her to be nice.

“Need a hand?” Celty asks, lifting the PDA. Izaya considers doing something petty, like swatting her away or slapping her PDA to the floor, but he dismisses the idea quickly. He does need help, and being a brat because he's not feeling well won't be beneficial to him.

“Thanks,” he says instead, leaning against her as she helps him to the table and eases him into a chair. She hovers over him, on edge again, and Izaya peers up at her and waits to see what it is she wants from him.

“You gave everyone a good scare.”

“No one's ever cared before when Shizu-chan injured me. Not that I blame anyone. It happens too often to panic every time.” Izaya puts his elbow on the table and rests his chin against his hand.

“Shizuo didn't do anything. He brought you here. He's been worried for you.” Celty fidgets again, and then her fingers are moving rapidly across the screen. “Listen... I think this would be a good time to try and bury the hatchet with Shizuo. Think of it like an extended olive branch. If not for him, you could have died. Isn't that as good a reason as any to make peace?”

Izaya stares at her.

“Well?” she prompts.

“And have you told him about this grand idea of yours?” Izaya asks.

“Yes. He said you're not likely to change, and I agree. But I also think it's worth a shot.”

“If he thinks so badly of me, he should have left me there.” Izaya doesn't bother reading her response, just buries his head in his arms. “I didn't ask for his help. If he hadn't been chasing me, I wouldn't have had to run for my life, and I wouldn't have needed saving. I don't want to talk about him anymore.”

Izaya hears the sound of her stomping her feet, and then heavy footsteps as she marches towards the kitchen. Shinra makes a startled noise, and then he's speaking in a hushed tone Izaya doesn't bother to listen to. He knows what it's about, anyway.

He drifts off again, and the next time he lifts his head, it's to find a bowl in front of him.

“Just some soup,” Shinra says, sitting across from him. Celty sits next to Shinra, her arms folded over her chest, her neck billowing smoke.

“I'm tired,” Izaya mumbles, rubbing his eyes. He barely looks at the soup, but it smells decent enough.

“You need to eat,” Shinra says. “You're going to be tired a while, even more so if you don't give your body energy.”

Sighing, Izaya brings his spoon to his lips. Some kind of potato soup. It's good, and Izaya wonders which of them made this, but he doesn't bother asking.

“Can I go home tonight?” Izaya asks after a few moments. Shinra gives him a patient look.

“That's up to you. Do you think you can take care of yourself?”

“Well, I'm moving around, not passing out, and I'm holding a conversation with you. I'd say that qualifies,” Izaya muses. He lifts the bowl to his lips and drinks the broth, finding it soothing in his throat.

“Let me rephrase,” Shinra says, and his eyes narrow. “Are you going to bother caring for yourself, or should I expect you back here soon?”

Izaya bristles, sets the bowl back on the table. He smooths his features and forces his voice into a neutral tone.

“Even if I intended to walk into traffic, it's not your place to keep me from doing so.”

“Oh, you'd be surprised. Especially with Celty here! She could knock you out for another few days if she had to.”

“Shinra, we've been over this before. I'm not hurting myself. I'm just busy. Stop being such a nag, alright? It's not as if you care anyway.” Izaya sips some water, watches Shinra over the table. “Besides, if Shizu-chan keeps inviting himself over, I'd rather not be here next time he comes back.”

“Eventually, this feud of yours is going to have to end. You could resolve it peacefully, or wait for one of you to kill the other. I think the first option is the best one,” Shinra says.

Izaya stands, wobbles, and has to sit back down immediately. Shinra is still smiling at him.

“Maybe just stay one more night. We can see how you feel tomorrow.”

“I can call a cab. I could even call someone to help me to the car.”

“How? I have your phone.” Shinra tilts his head to the side. “You need to take this seriously. I think one more night, at least.”

“Fine, but at least give me my phone. If I've been here a few days, I need to contact some people.”

***

He waits until about an hour after Shinra and Celty go to bed. He stands and hangs onto the wall, maneuvering himself as quietly as he can. He finds his keys, knives, wallet, and lip balm in a small bowl on Shinra's counter, and he puts them in his coat pocket alongside his phone, where he has been texting back and forth with Namie and a few clients for the past few hours.

He's already arranged for a ride home, and it takes him a while to exit the building, but he manages to do so without falling down. To his surprise, Shiki's car is the one waiting for him, and he composes himself before opening the back door and getting in beside Shiki.

“Izaya. You look rough. Sure you should be leaving?” Shiki asks.

“Of course. Shinra is a busy man. I'm sure someone else needs that spare bed more than I do,” Izaya says. He meets Shiki's gaze and grins. “I'm feeling much better.”

“Maybe you should take a few more days, just in case,” Shiki says.

“The last thing I need is more downtime. Forgive me, Shiki-san, but I'd really like to get back to work and put this behind me.”

Shiki waits a few moments, eyeing Izaya scrupulously. “Fine then. If you're sure.” He signals the driver, and they're off.

***

When Izaya runs into Shizuo again, it's an accident.

Izaya has buried himself in work once more, as he's accustomed to. He has less time to think about anything else when he's busy.

He's leaning against a wall, head buried in his phone when he feels someone looking at him. His eyes meet Shizuo's, who is wearing his sunglasses, but is clearly watching him. Izaya frowns, weighs his options, and decides to just run for it without saying a word to Shizuo.

“Izaya!” Shizuo shouts after him, but Izaya doesn't stop, just runs and runs until his chest aches and he's gasping for breath. He finally finds a small cafe to duck into, and he makes his way to a table in the back, flopping into it and ordering some tea when the waiter comes by.

He busies himself by sipping the tea and continuing to use his phone. He lifts his head at some point and notices it's raining outside. Surely Shizuo has given up the chase by now? He decides to wait just a little longer to be sure, and to give the rain a chance to let up, but of course it only starts coming down harder. Sighing to himself, he pays his bill and puts his hood on, stepping outside into the downpour.

It's a gloomy day, but warm enough. Izaya is at least thankful he isn't cold and wet, as he can't afford to get sick any time soon. He has so much to do, has taken on so many things at once, and it's still not enough to really quiet his mind or exhaust him enough to where he can sleep at night. He's been ignoring Shinra's advice, and Shinra himself, as the doctor has been harassing Izaya ever since he left in the middle of the night. Sometimes Celty will text him as well, but Izaya hasn't responded to her more personal questions and has kept their correspondence strictly professional.

He walks quickly, weaving through the people around him. He needs to get home and sort through the files he's had Namie organize for him and then he needs to give Shiki a call to discuss progress. Maybe at some point he can get some sleep, but undoubtedly Shiki will have another request, and while Izaya knows it can all wait, he also knows eventually he'll run out of steam and he'd like to finish some things up before then.

He's so caught up in his own thoughts that he doesn't notice someone approaching him, but he does jerk away just before Shizuo's hand can close around his wrist. Izaya whirls around, a knife drawn, and he glares up at Shizuo, who is glowering right back at him.

“Why did you run?” Shizuo asks, and Izaya actually laughs in his face.

“Is that a trick question? Do you think I want you to snap me in half?” Izaya asks, and Shizuo's scowl deepens.

“I wasn't going to do anything, and I still won't. Not unless you do something first,” Shizuo says, his eyes on Izaya's knife. He's still wearing the sunglasses, which is ridiculous since it's raining, but Izaya has also seen Shizuo wear them at night, as if they could hide who he is despite the fact he's wearing the same outfit as always.

“I'm busy,” Izaya says. “If you're bothering me for some sort of thank you, you can fuck off. I didn't ask for your help.”

“I wasn't— Hey, fuck you! You didn't deserve being helped at all, flea! I could've left you there to die on your own. That's what you'd have done if our situations were reversed, right?”

“Yes,” Izaya says, smirking as he gazes up into Shizuo's shades, seeing his own reflection in them. “I'd have done more than that. If you fell before me, I'd slit your throat while you were down. I wouldn't hesitate.” Izaya backs away, but keeps facing Shizuo, knows better than to turn from him while Shizuo is focused on him and this close. “You should've let me die.”

Shizuo's teeth are bared, his hands clenched into fists. He takes a few steps forward when Izaya backs away a little more, pursuing Izaya as he always does.

“Yeah? You wouldn't hesitate, huh? Well I'm better than you, and I wasn't gonna attack you while you were down. Celty's been saying some bullshit about using this to try and make things right with you, but I knew you wouldn't change, and I was right. You'll never change.”

“You're right,” Izaya says, and he does turn away then, knowing he's going to have to either attack or run for it once more. He isn't in the shape to be doing either, but he'd rather try to escape than keep facing Shizuo head-on. “Don't flatter yourself, anyway. You didn't save my life. I'd have woken up and called Shinra myself without you.”

“You wouldn't have. There was blood all over. You'd have died if I didn't carry you.”

“I didn't ask for your help!” Izaya snaps, looking back at Shizuo, who is watching him with a strange expression on his face. “If you hadn't been chasing me, I wouldn't have passed out.”

“Why the fuck did you pass out anyway, I-za-ya?” Shizuo asks. Everyone around them is giving them a wide berth, either knowing who they are, or just not wanting to get involved in their shouting match.

“I was tired. I was tired, and I knew you wouldn't stop, so I couldn't stop. I'm not thanking you because it was your fault!”

“Fuck that! You're lucky it was me that was after you and not the same shady ass people as you! And I never asked you to thank me!” Shizuo shouts, and Izaya feels his head pounding in response because this entire exchange is so stupid, and Shizuo's response struck a nerve with him.

“I would've been fine without you. Now let me go.”

Shizuo is watching him carefully, studying his face and his posture. Izaya bristles under it, feeling exposed somehow. Shizuo is an idiot half the time, but sometimes he's so sharp it takes Izaya by surprise, and Izaya isn't in the mood for surprises right now.

“Something's wrong with you,” Shizuo says. “Well. Something more than the usual bat-shit crazy stuff that's wrong with you.”

“I'm busy. Unlike you, I have to do more than punch people for a living.”

“Yeah, you just ruin lives. So what is it? Did you kill someone or something?”

Izaya feels a frigid cold wash over him. His hand feels numb where it grips the knife, and something in Shizuo's expression changes. Unthinkingly, Izaya turns and runs for it, clumsily running into a few people before landing in the path of an oncoming car.

Shizuo's hand snatches him backwards by the hood, and Izaya finds his back held against Shizuo's chest, Shizuo's arms going around him reflexively. The car passes, honking at them, and plenty of eyes are on them now.

“Fuck. You're losing it, flea.”

“Let go of me,” Izaya says, but he doesn't try very hard to pull away. Shizuo's arms drop all the same.

“Shinra said you were exhausted and obviously not caring for yourself. Said it was a constant problem of yours, since he doesn't know how to shut up. All I asked was if you were alive,” Shizuo says, and Izaya is still close to him, though not touching him anymore.

“Shinra is a nosy asshole,” Izaya says.

“He is,” Shizuo agrees.

“So you don't want me to thank you. Why are you following me around then if not to beat my face in or yank gratitude out of me?”

“Well, I kind of saved your life and all,” Shizuo says, and Izaya turns to face him wearily. “So now it kind of feels like my responsibility to make sure you stay alive.”

“I don't need your help. I can take care of myself.”

“Can you?” Shizuo asks, and doesn't wait for a response. He walks forward, bumping Izaya's shoulder with his as he passes. “Let me walk you home. I'd like to sleep tonight, and I won't if I think you're off in a ditch somewhere.”

“Why do you care?” Izaya mutters, following anyway. He does need to get home, and he can hardly control what Shizuo does.

“I guess because you don't.” Izaya watches Shizuo's back curiously, entranced by him. He never can tell what Shizuo is going to do next. He hates and admires that about Shizuo.

“I'm not trying to off myself, Shizu-chan, regardless of what Shinra has said.”

“Maybe not actively. It's still dangerous, you know? Not caring about yourself one way or the other. It just makes things worse later on.”

“Right. I guess you're an expert on being reckless,” Izaya says.

“It's not like you have the market cornered.”

They make decent time. Not many people are walking around anymore since the rain isn't getting any lighter, and they're both soaked to the bone by the time they're in front of Izaya's building. Izaya looks over at Shizuo, sighs, and edges past him.

“Do you want some tea?” he asks, and he doesn't have to look back to know Shizuo is following him.

Namie is still sorting through things when they walk through the door of Izaya's apartment. She gives them both a wilting look, her eyes lingering on Shizuo, and then she gives Izaya an accusing stare.

“You're late,” she says.

“I was waiting for the rain to stop. Didn't want to get wet,” Izaya says, and Shizuo snorts.

“Yeah, you did a great job staying dry,” Namie says. “If you get sick, I'm not going to take care of you.”

“You will if I complain enough to you. You'll be here anyway,” Izaya points out. “You can go now. Try not to curse anyone on your way home.” She rolls her eyes at him and gathers her things quickly, pulling an umbrella from her purse and giving Izaya a pointed look as she does so.

When she's gone, Shizuo turns to him.

“Who was that?”

“My secretary. She has a way about her, doesn't she? Charming woman.” Izaya goes to the bathroom and gets two towels, tosses one to Shizuo when he emerges. “I'm going to get some dry clothes.”

Shizuo doesn't respond, and Izaya knows it's because the beast is feeling just as weird about all this as he is. The two of them know each other pretty well, but have never actually spoken before without fighting either physically or verbally. Izaya is surprised they managed to get through high school together, but Izaya also rarely went to class.

He tugs on some more comfortable clothes before returning to the living room, where Shizuo is still standing, his head looking around like he's trying to take in all the sights of Izaya's apartment.

“I bet I could find you something to wear,” Izaya says, and Shizuo turns to him. “I have some sweatpants that are too big for me.”

“No, it's fine. I should be going anyway. No point in putting on dry clothes when it's still pouring rain,” Shizuo says.

“You don't want some tea?”

Shizuo pauses, and then he shakes his head.

“No, I need to go. I just wanted to make sure you got home okay.”

Izaya snorts and pads into the kitchen to make tea for himself. He hears the door open and close, and then he leans on the counter wearily, exhaling a breath he didn't realize he was holding. He doesn't blame Shizuo for not staying— Izaya wouldn't have either, if their situations were reversed. He doesn't know why he offered in the first place.

***

The next time he sees Shizuo is outside Shinra's building.

Izaya is shuffling by, on his way to Shiki for a briefing on his newest assignment. Shiki offered to come to him, but Izaya refused, citing he needed to get out of his apartment for a while. He's been holed up for days, working diligently on different things. He hasn't been to any of his chat-rooms for a while. Some of them have been messaging him privately, asking if he's okay, but Izaya doesn't bother responding.

It's a nice evening. The sun is dipping below the tops of the buildings, illuminating everything in an orange haze as the skies darken with nightfall. Izaya always enjoys seeing the neon lights of the city shine and outline everyone bustling around in their colors. He glances up at Shinra's building and is grateful he has an excuse for not stopping by. Shinra has still been messaging him and leaving voicemails. He's been threatening to come by, but Izaya isn't concerned about it. He's used to Shinra barging in on him by this point.

He pauses when he sees Shizuo step outside. Shizuo is dressed in casual clothes, and Izaya remembers it's the weekend. It's hard to keep the days in order since he's been so caught up with work. Shizuo stretches, reaches in his pocket and pulls out his cigarettes. He pauses when he sees Izaya.

Izaya considers running for it, but then he would just look guilty. He's really just passing by, and he doesn't think he has the energy to run right now. Shizuo is fast, faster than Izaya gives him credit for. Izaya doesn't think he has it in him to be faster.

Shizuo lights his cigarette and walks towards Izaya, his hands going into the pockets of his slacks.

“Flea,” he says in greeting.

“Shizu-chan,” Izaya returns.

“What are you doing in Ikebukuro?”

Izaya snorts at the question. Usually, Shizuo would be yelling that at him and throwing something by this point. As it is, Shizuo doesn't look mad or even irritated. He looks like he's genuinely asking.

“I've got somewhere to be and I thought it was a nice night for a walk. How about you? Were you seeing Shinra for an injury?” Shizuo doesn't look like he's hurt or sick, but it's also hard to tell with him. Shizuo walked off gunshot wounds once.

“Huh? Oh, no. I was having dinner with them. A lot of people are up there, actually.” Shizuo stiffens after he says this, like he thinks maybe it was cruel to tell Izaya Shinra is having a party and didn't extend an invitation.

“Leaving the party early, Shizu-chan? Maybe you should go back up to your adoring fans.” Izaya turns to leave, ready to get away from this conversation, but of course Shizuo follows him.

“You could go up. Shinra's been babbling about you nonstop, saying you aren't talking to anyone. He'd be glad to see you.”

“He wouldn't. And anyway, I told you already that I'm busy.”

Izaya gets more and more annoyed as Shizuo walks beside him. Shizuo's apartment is the other direction, and Izaya bristles when he thinks that Shizuo might be walking with him out of pity.

“I don't need a babysitter,” Izaya snaps at last, whirling on Shizuo, who blinks at him.

“I'm not babysitting you.”

“Then what do you want?”

Shizuo takes a drag of the cigarette and looks down at Izaya with a scrutinizing expression, like he either doesn't know what to say or how to say it. Izaya withholds a comment about how that's probably commonplace for an imbecile like Shizuo.

“You don't look good,” Shizuo says at last.

“Fantastic. I look bad so you're following me. Do you realize how ridiculous that sounds?” Izaya asks, and Shizuo grunts, narrows his eyes.

“You look sick,” Shizuo amends. “You look like you're about to fall over.”

“Well, I'm not. So get away from me and leave me alone.”

Izaya walks faster, his hands curling into fists. It's unusual for Shizuo to get under his skin like this, and Izaya knows he can chalk it up to a lack of food and sleep. His head is pounding, and he just wants to get this stupid meeting out of the way and go home and sleep an entire day if he can. To his chagrin, Shizuo is still behind him. When a hand closes around Izaya's hood, Izaya turns quickly, knife in hand. Shizuo lets go immediately.

“What's wrong with you?” Shizuo spits, and finally he looks angry.

“Lots of things, just like you always thought. I'm the worst person you've ever met and I'm going off to ruin some lives and kill some people.” Izaya backs away, still holding the knife threateningly.

“Izaya—“ Shizuo starts, stepping forward. Izaya throws the knife at Shizuo's foot, stabbing through his shoe and between his toes. Shizuo scoffs and then swipes at Izaya, who already has another knife in hand. “Would you fuckin' quit it? I'm trying to talk to you!”

“Go back to your stupid fucking party, Shizuo,” Izaya says, and when he turns and runs for it, Shizuo doesn't follow him.

***

Afterwards, Izaya packs some things and goes to one of his other apartments. He doesn't want to be barged in on, and he definitely doesn't want to see Shizuo again any time soon. He stays a little over a week, messaging Namie and Shiki and no one else. He avoids his personal phone like the plague, and after about two days and a message from Shizuo of all people, he turns it off, not bothering to read any of the messages.

By the time he's back in Shinjuku, he's feeling worse somehow. Going away usually refreshes him, but he just feels like he's been running from everything, and feeling like the coward he is never fills him with anything but disgust.

He unpacks his things and starts some coffee before he finally turns on his personal phone. Messages flood through one after the other, but it's not like a lot of people are sending him things. It's almost all Shinra, who is sending one word messages at a time to flood and annoy Izaya with notifications. Mairu sent him a message saying they want to see him, which translates to they need money for something. Shizuo sent only one message.

Can I see you?

Izaya stares at it for a few moments before he tosses his phone on the desk, ignoring all the messages. He takes his coffee to the couch and curls up, turning on the TV and accomplishing absolutely nothing.

***

Another week goes by. Finally, Shinra fulfills his threat and barges into the apartment while Izaya is showering.

“Izaya-kun!” Shinra calls. “Ah, are you showering?”

“If you come up here, I'm stabbing you,” Izaya says. Shinra laughs.

“Trust me, I don't want to see you! I'll be down here when you get out.”

Izaya considers locking himself in his room until Shinra leaves, but eventually he gets out of the shower and dresses himself. He towels through his hair and tromps down the stairs, glaring when he sees Shinra sitting at the table.

“I brought Russia Sushi. Simon says he hasn't seen you in a while.”

Izaya's stomach growls. It has been too long.

“I'm sure he's been reveling in the quiet,” Izaya says.

“It's unsettling, actually. Everyone thinks you're plotting something. Well, some people are just saying you died.”

“The city is full of wishful thinkers.” Izaya grabs two bottles of tea from the fridge and pours them over ice before settling at the table with Shinra. “Thanks for the food.”

“You look terrible.”

“Can we start this conversation later? Mealtimes are supposed to be enjoyable.”

Shinra makes a noise of disapproval, but doesn't push it. They eat in silence for a while, but of course Shinra breaks it.

“Have you spoken to Shizuo-kun?”

“Why would I want to speak to that invalid?” Izaya asks.

“It wouldn't kill you to be civil to him. He's got a good heart, and you freaked him out when you fell off that building.”

“He does not have a heart,” Izaya says instead of, I tried being civil to him once, and he hated me on sight. “Don't grace him with basic human anatomy. He's like a jellyfish.”

“Izaya-kun,” Shinra says exasperatedly, “he's trying to bury the hatchet with you. He's tired of fighting. Isn't that good news?”

Izaya doesn't say anything, but his chest clenches. So that's how it is, huh? Shizuo is done with him, done with their feud. If they pass each other, Shizuo will ignore him, go on like Izaya truly is nothing more than piece of trash in the street.

“Izaya-kun?” Shinra asks, and Izaya realizes he's been quiet too long.

“Yes, that's great news. I can finally go on about my business with no interference. Let him know I'm on board with his peace plan and we never have to see each other ever again.”

“Don't be glib,” Shinra says. “You could try being his friend.”

“I don't do well with friends.”

“Lucky for you, Shizuo-kun is way more stubborn than I am. He won't let you withdraw too much. I see now that I waited too long before coming here. You dug yourself into a pit.”

“I don't know what you mean.”

“Izaya,” Shinra says, dropping the niceties. “You can't punish yourself forever for what happened to that kid. It wasn't your fault.”

Izaya chews his ootoro, but suddenly it tastes horrible. He pushes the rest of it away from himself and drinks his tea instead.

“Who told you?” he asks.

“Does it matter? I wish I'd heard it from you.”

“Whoever told you neglected to mention it was my fault.”

“You can't control what people do with the information you give them. He paid you, right?” Shinra asks.

“No, he was in debt. I gave him what he wanted for free. He was eager, but he was an idiot. I didn't think he'd do what he did. I underestimated him.”

“Still,” Shinra continues. “I give medical care to all sorts of terrible people. If I save someone's life, and that person goes out to kill someone later, does that make it my fault?”

“It's different. You're a doctor. You're not supposed to discriminate against anyone, no matter what they do,” Izaya says. “I can control who I do and don't give information to.”

“As refreshing as it is to see your conscience for once, I think you're twisting this into more than it is. You send people into danger all the time. What makes this one so different?”

“He actually died, for one,” Izaya says instead of, “I don't know.”

“I've killed people before, too. I was trying to help, but I've made medical mistakes that cost people their lives. You can't shut yourself down every time something doesn't go your way.”

Izaya doesn't respond because Shinra doesn't get it. He doesn't expect anyone will, and there's more he's unwilling to say. When Shinra realizes he isn't going to get anything else out of Izaya, he sighs and begins prattling on about Celty, and Izaya manages to eat the rest of his sushi.

When Shinra leaves, he pulls Izaya into a tight hug, and Izaya leans into him, closing his eyes.

“Come over soon. We'll have dinner. We can invite other people, too,” Shinra says. Izaya laughs, shaking his head.

“What is it with you and dinner parties?”

“It's what friends do. Now that you and Shizuo-kun aren't fighting, I can invite you both. Also, hey, try to stay on Shiki-san's good side, okay? I hear he had someone who works with him killed recently, and you're always causing trouble.”

When Izaya is alone, he goes to his computer and starts working, shutting everything else out. He tries not to think of who was killed on Shiki's orders, has a pretty good idea already who it was.

***

When he sees Shizuo again, it's Shizuo who spots him first.

Izaya forces himself outside on another walk. Shiki has flat-out refused to give Izaya anything else to do, stating Izaya needs a break, and Izaya has decided not to work on anything else until his head's clear.

He makes his way to the Sunshine 60 building, sneaking past security as he usually does to reach the roof. It's his favorite view and it's quiet, no one else around. He goes to the edge and looks down, thinks of how it would feel to jump, how weightless he'd feel before reaching the ground.

He turns when he hears the door to the roof open behind him. It's Shizuo. Of course it is.

“Why are you up there?” Shizuo asks, freezing. Izaya blinks, not getting it, but then he realizes he is standing on the ledge of the building. He must have climbed up.

“Best view,” Izaya says, shrugging. He hops down and sits with his back facing the edge, enjoying the way Shizuo seems unsettled on his behalf. “Did you come up here to push me?”

“What? No! What kind of shitty joke is that?” Shizuo snaps, moving towards Izaya.

“You could. You could push me and tell everyone I jumped. With the way the rumors are circulating, they'd believe you.”

“Did you come up here to jump?” Shizuo asks, and he looks so concerned that Izaya laughs until his sides hurt and there are tears in his eyes.

Shizuo settles next to him, their arms almost touching, and he lights a cigarette. Izaya turns so he can look back over the city, and they're both quiet for so long that Izaya is almost able to forget Shizuo is there.

“Where have you been lately?” Shizuo asks.

“Around. Home, mostly.”

“I texted you,” Shizuo says, and Izaya can't help but laugh again at the absurdity of it all.

“Shizu-chan, what the hell do you want from me? You wanted me out of your city and then I actually complied and you had the gall to miss me? You're a walking contradiction, but I guess I knew that already from your name and personality.”

“Fuck off. Shinra said—“ he stops himself, and Izaya glares over at him.

“What did Shinra say?”

“He said you're depressed.”

“Well, you know he's an idiot. And didn't anyone teach you it's wrong to gossip?”

“Izaya—“

“I'm not depressed,” Izaya says, louder than he means to. He scoffs and moves away from the ledge they're leaning on, keeping his back to Shizuo.

Shizuo doesn't say, “Of course you're not depressed. I've met you, and you don't have a conscience or feelings.” He doesn't say, “What are you, some kind of wuss?” He doesn't storm after Izaya to punch him. Shizuo stays where he is, says nothing. And when Izaya finally looks back at him, he thinks Shizuo looks a little sad.

This entire thing couldn't get more fucking ridiculous.

“You wanna come to my place?” Shizuo asks, and Izaya decides he stands corrected.

“Why would I want to do that?”

“What else have you got to do? You're already in the city. You might as well.”

“That's the definition of going into the lion's den. Or maybe the belly of the beast is more fitting.”

Shizuo glares at him. “How about you don't be an asshole, and I won't hurt you?”

“I don't always try to be an asshole,” Izaya says, but when Shizuo shoulders past him, Izaya finds himself turning and following Shizuo anyway, too curious for his own good.

They stop at a convenience store for cigarettes and alcohol. Izaya shells out the money for a nicer bottle of sake, ignoring Shizuo's protests. If Shizuo snaps his neck tonight, Izaya wants to be drinking the nicer stuff before he dies. Besides, it might culture Shizuo a bit. Their banter remains light as they make their way to Shizuo's building, passing by plenty of incredulous people who clearly recognize them.

Shizuo's apartment is as charming as it is small. It's clean, and somehow it doesn't reek of smoke. Izaya wonders if Shizuo usually smokes out the window.

Izaya settles on the couch while Shizuo goes to get them cups. He decides he'll have one drink to placate the monster, and then he'll leave. It'll be short and simple.

An hour later, they're completely sloshed, laughing about stupid things like they're actually friends. Izaya's never seen Shizuo like this, completely at ease, especially in his presence. Izaya can't remember the last time he felt so relaxed.

“You ever done this before? Drank with...uh. Someone till you really overdid it?” Shizuo asks, and Izaya giggles when he realizes Shizuo stopped himself from saying 'friend' in case it offended Izaya. It helps distract from the painful memory of the last time he drank too much and someone else was there.

“I got Shinra drunk in high school,” Izaya says instead of the most recent time. He wants to keep this light.

“Oh, fuck. I bet he was obnoxious.”

“He was. He locked himself in my bathroom and cried in the tub. After a while I kind of forgot he was there, and then Mairu yelled at me to get him out so she could shower.”

Shizuo laughs, and they fall back into a companionable silence.

“Why'd you invite me over, Shizu-chan?” Izaya asks.

“Why'd you come?” Shizuo counters defensively.

“Relax, I'm only curious. You sent me a message and asked to see me. Did you want something?”

Shizuo huffs, tries to refill his cup, but the bottle is empty. He gets up from the couch and grabs a beer from his fridge.

“I don't want to fight with you anymore,” Shizuo says at last, and Izaya snorts.

“Yeah, Shinra said as much.”

“God, he's a fucking blabbermouth,” Shizuo grumbles, and Izaya laughs so hard he falls over into the vacant space Shizuo left. It's warm.

“I just...” Shizuo trails off, and when Izaya looks up at him, he finds Shizuo hovering awkwardly over the couch. Izaya quickly sits up so Shizuo can reclaim his spot. “You almost died in front of me. It made me think about how stupid the whole thing is. What if I actually kill you one day and have to tell your sisters?”

“They'd be ecstatic,” Izaya says as Shizuo flops back down. “Mairu might send you flowers.”

“Fuck that. They care about you, even if they don't say so. I thought a long time about it, and the truth is, I don't wanna kill anyone. So then I realized I can't keep fighting with you, or else one day, I really might kill you for real.” Shizuo sips at his beer and looks over at Izaya. “I don't want that.”

“I always assumed one day we'd either kill each other, or you'd outgrow me,” Izaya says, and his tone is so bitter that it startles him. He forces a smile when Shizuo keeps looking at him. “I guess that's why I'm not surprised.”

“We can't just fight forever. You could try being less of a dick, and then, I don't know. We could be friends. Or at least not antagonize each other all the time.”

“I don't know if you've noticed, Shizu-chan, but I'm not exactly good at having friends.”

Shizuo laughs. “Yeah, me neither. It'll be great.”

“Whatever. You have all kinds of friends. Lots of people care about you. It's almost sickening,” Izaya huffs. Shizuo doesn't look angry, though. He looks pensive.

“It's all surface stuff. I can't let go for even a minute, or I'll hurt someone. It's just kind of exhausting engaging with people.”

“Well,” Izaya says, very out of his element here, “you'll never find yourself a housewife with that attitude.”

“No shit,” Shizuo says, and they both laugh again. “What about you?”

“Me?”

“No housewife prospects?”

“Ah, afraid not. As surprising as it may be to you, I'm not likable to many people.” Izaya expects Shizuo to laugh, but he doesn't. Shizuo frowns like he doesn't get it.

“Yeah, but you're... You know.” Shizuo waves his hand.

“Huh?” Izaya asks.

“You look— You know. Like you do.”

It takes Izaya a second to realize Shizuo is complementing him. Then a wicked grin splits his face. Shizuo glares in response.

“Are you saying you find me attractive?” Izaya asks.

“Besides your shitty as fuck attitude, yeah, sure,” Shizuo says. “Don't act like you don't know how you look. It's obnoxious.”

“How do you think I look?” Izaya asks as innocently as he can. Shizuo clearly isn't buying it.

“Fuck off,” he spits, taking another gulp of beer. Izaya reaches over, puts his hand over Shizuo's on the can and takes it from him. He takes a sip of the beer, finding it disgusting, but he keeps his expression level and licks his lips before holding the can out for Shizuo to take. Shizuo just keeps staring at him.

“Shizu-chan,” Izaya purrs, ready to tease him more, but then Shizuo's mouth is sealing over his. He gasps into it, opening his lips for Shizuo's tongue. It's sloppy and wet, but Izaya can't even think of how gross it is. He's hot under Shizuo's touch, and when Shizuo yanks him into his lap, Izaya accidentally drops the beer in the floor. Neither of them really notice in their haste to get to each other.

Izaya winds up with his pants and underwear shoved clumsily down his thighs, his face buried against Shizuo's neck as Shizuo wraps his hand around them both, pumping them together until Izaya is coming first, panting hard against Shizuo's skin. Shizuo joins him a moment later, shuddering underneath Izaya, his hand stilling when Izaya starts trembling in overstimulation.

Izaya expects Shizuo to throw him out or...something. He's waiting for some sort of freak-out, but instead Shizuo lifts him up and carries him to bed, undresses them both entirely, and presses down against him until they're both coming again, Izaya's moans muffled in Shizuo's mouth because Shizuo won't stop kissing him.

In the morning, Izaya wakes to a pounding headache and feels like he's going to vomit. Shizuo is spooned behind him, strong arms wrapped around Izaya's waist. Izaya carefully untangles himself and watches with interest as Shizuo immediately cuddles into the pillow Izaya was using in his absence. Izaya dresses quickly and cleans the spilled beer before slipping out of the apartment. He makes it halfway home before he ducks behind a building to throw up.

***

He doesn't see or hear from Shizuo for a while.

He wonders if Shizuo is just mortified that it happened, or if he's mad Izaya ran off. Either way, Izaya thinks it was a mistake on both their parts, just two lonely people falling together because they fit in the moment. He decides to put it behind him.

When someone knocks at his door, he grumbles, expecting an unannounced client, or perhaps Shiki, who has been uncharacteristically nice to him lately, but when he opens the door, Shizuo is standing there, his mouth a hard line.

“Shizu—“ Izaya's cut off as Shizuo pulls him into a kiss, lifts him up and kicks the door closed behind them as Izaya melts against him.

“Fucking flea, stop running from me,” Shizuo growls, and he carries Izaya up the stairs to the bed, making good use of the lube Izaya keeps in his bedside table.

They spend the day in bed, alternating between fucking and dozing off. Izaya sleeps with his head against Shizuo's chest, wakes every now and then feeling like he should get up and do something, but he always ends up curling more into Shizuo, who snatches him closer as if daring him to try and get free.

It's dark outside when they finally get out of bed. Izaya takes Shizuo to a great ramen place down the street. They don't talk much, just focus on the delicious food, and when they're done, Izaya expects Shizuo to turn and head back to his own place, but he doesn't.

“You don't have any clothes at my place,” Izaya says, amused.

“What about those sweatpants you said would fit me?” Shizuo counters, looking defiant, and Izaya laughs until Shizuo kisses him to shut him up.

***

Izaya resumes working, and he meets with Shiki to go over a new assignment. It's a simple job, merely gathering information from various people about one target. Shiki scrutinizes him while they speak.

“You look better. Did you go to that onsen I suggested?” Shiki asks.

“No, but I'll definitely get around to it,” Izaya says.

“Well, whatever you did, I'm glad you're more focused.”

“Shiki-san...” Izaya pauses before continuing. “May I ask you something?”

“Sure.” Shiki leans back in his seat, takes a swig of bourbon. Izaya has opted not to drink, and likely never will again at one of these meetings.

“I know you know I'm responsible for what happened with Akane-chan,” Izaya says, and Shiki's gaze sharpens. “You knew the whole time, and you didn't kill me.”

“You serve a purpose,” Shiki says. “When you're not being a shady brat, you're useful to us. And Kine is fond of you. If I had you killed, he'd likely bitch at me about it.”

Izaya grins, thinking of Kine.

“Was that what you wanted to ask? Why I didn't have you killed?”

“Ah, no. I learned recently one of your colleagues was killed. Yasuhiro-san. We both worked with him before.”

“Did you have a point?” Shiki asks, raising his eyebrow.

“Did you have him killed because of what he did to me? Did you know?” Izaya asks. Shiki sighs, drains his glass, and sets it on the table.

“Izaya, your life would get a lot easier if you learned to be loyal to me. You can confide in me, and if not me, Kine.”

Izaya decides it's as good an answer as he's going to get from Shiki. He stands, bows, and turns to leave.

“By the way, stop fucking around with kids,” Shiki says, and Izaya stiffens. “What happened to that teenager wasn't directly your fault, but you've meddled with plenty others in the past. If you keep at it, I really will kill you, Kine be damned.” When Izaya turns back to him, Shiki is grinning.

***

Shizuo seems to have a thing for Izaya's couch. He's always lounging on it when the opportunity presents itself, and Izaya isn't surprised to find him there when he returns home.

“Shinra called,” Shizuo says, lifting his head to look at Izaya as he enters. “He said he's glad we're in the 'throes of hot passion', but that we have to see him soon.”

“Shinra doesn't have the right to boss either us or our passions around.” Izaya goes to the couch and flops on top of Shizuo, who grunts at him and wraps him up.

“You look like you had a bad day,” Shizuo says. Izaya nuzzles at his throat.

“It wasn't bad. I found out someone who wronged me was killed. I'm a little...put off that I didn't get to watch him suffer, but I'll survive.”

Shizuo stiffens underneath him. “Yeah? What did he do to you? Set you up or something?”

Izaya sighs softly, is grateful Shizuo can't see his face.

“Do you remember when you found me in the rain and asked if I killed someone?”

“Yeah,” Shizuo says, rubbing his hands down Izaya's back.

“I did. Well— I didn't kill him directly. It wasn't on purpose. But he died all the same.”

“What happened?” Shizuo asks, and Izaya is immensely relieved Shizuo didn't throw him across the room and actually wants to hear him out.

“He was this kid who wanted to make some assholes pay. Loan sharks, you know. They were going to run his family's business into the ground, so I gave him some information on the owner of the company, some unsavory things he'd like to keep secret, and that gave the kid leverage. Only, he didn't do it the way I said. He went to the guy's house and pulled a gun on him like some hotshot, and then the guy killed him.”

“Shit,” Shizuo says. “Yeah, that doesn't sound like it was your fault. You didn't give him the gun, right?”

“No,” Izaya says.

“Well then, it was his own damn fault. That was probably his plan all along, whether he went to you first or not. Kids like that are always going to find a way.”

“Yeah,” Izaya says, closing his eyes. He breathes in Shizuo's scent, can't believe Shizuo is actually comforting him about this.

“So is that the guy who was killed? The owner or whatever? You wanted to see him suffer?”

“Oh, no. He's alive. I'm going to use my own resources to blackmail him and make him wish he'd never been born. I'm talking about...someone else. A man I've been in meeting rooms with many times, and never thought much of.

“I got pretty drunk at a meeting with the Awakusu. It was in bad form, but I wasn't happy about that kid, you know? I'll be the first to admit I've had a hand in a lot of the goings on in this city, teenagers included, but those kids are different. They're all desperate to find a way to stand out and be something extraordinary, and like you said, they'll find a way whether I help or not. But this kid, he was an idiot. I gave him something foolproof to use, and somehow he fucked it up. He was never going to live anything other than an incredibly boring life, and he's dead now. Apparently my sisters knew him pretty well. At least, they went to his funeral, but they could have done that just to get out of school.”

“Sounds like something they'd do,” Shizuo says. He hugs Izaya to him, and Izaya feels bolstered enough to keep going.

“Anyway, I got drunk and Shiki-san was pretty annoyed at me. He ordered one of his men to drive me home, but the guy didn't drive me home. He took me to his place, and—“

Shizuo is squeezing him tightly now. Izaya gasps for air, and Shizuo releases him, goes back to petting his back.

“Fuck, I'm sorry— That bastard.”

“For a while, I wasn't even sure it happened. And then I thought I deserved it. I learned Shiki-san killed him not long after it happened. I don't know how he found out, but if I had to guess, it'd be that Yasuhiro-san was bragging about it. He was an idiot.”

“I'm sorry. God, that's so fucked up. And then you came home to drink with me, and I just grabbed you like that. You must've been scared,” Shizuo says.

“Of course I wasn't scared. I've been wanting you to grab me for a long time.”

“Still.”

“Why did you grab me, anyway?”

“I told you, I did a lot of thinking when you busted your head open in front of me. And then, I don't know. You were so sad and you were all by yourself, but you were making yourself be alone. I didn't like it.”

“I should know better than to ask you for a legible explanation,” Izaya jabs, and Shizuo grumbles at him and kisses his hair.

***

Izaya wakes up the next morning to an empty bed.

He rolls over onto his back and stretches out, wondering to himself if Shizuo left for the day already. He can't help the wave of anxiety that hits him. He unloaded a lot of things on Shizuo before. He doesn't guess he would be able to blame Shizuo for running off.

He sighs and forces the worry away, gets out of bed and dresses. No matter what, he still has work to do, and he refuses to wallow about any of this any more than he already has.

As he makes his way downstairs, he blinks in surprise when he finds Shizuo in the kitchen, wearing Izaya's favorite frilly apron. It was a gag gift from his sisters, but Izaya truly likes it and the material it's made of, likes to wear it when he actually bothers cooking.

“You need to go grocery shopping,” Shizuo informs him. “You barely have anything here, but I made you an omelet.”

“I thought you left already,” Izaya says.

“It's Saturday,” Shizuo says, and Izaya frowns, reminds himself to keep better track of the days of the week.

He makes his way to Shizuo, tuning out Shizuo's nagging. Shizuo shuts up when Izaya hugs him from behind, holds on tightly in wordless thanks. Izaya doesn't know exactly what he's thanking Shizuo for, but decides it's probably a bit of everything. Shizuo doesn't ask for an elaboration.

“I'll make dinner,” Izaya murmurs between Shizuo's shoulder-blades.

“Then we'll definitely have to go grocery shopping,” Shizuo says. “You should make breakfast tomorrow, too.”

Izaya smiles, hugs him tighter, never once asks when they decided Shizuo was staying so long.

“You've got a deal.”

[marvelhero-fics]

Silent Britain

Series - Chapter Two

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader

Summary: You and Tom are working as love interests in a new Scorsese film, essentially leading to be love interests in real life

A/N: I’m sorry this chapter took a little longer to come out! I’ve just been so busy recently and I really wanted to go through and edit it before it was published. Thank you for all waiting patiently and being so supportive of the last two chapters. I hope you’re all enjoying it so far!!

The italics in this story are the readers thoughts!

Word Count: 4,000

Silent Britain Masterlist || Full Masterlist

Maybe this wasn’t going to be so bad.

The illusion of time had once again slipped through your fingers. Without any vivid consciousness, you’d made it back to your hotel and stood in front of the giant wall mirror. Your hair fell in loose curls down your shoulder that you’d only done moments ago, framing your face that held a ‘natural’ make-up look, that contained far too much make-up to be considered natural. The only clothes currently covering your figure were your underwear and bra, as you thought over what to wear. The letter addressed to everyone had said the event was semi-formal. Whatever that meant.

After trying on almost everything you’d brought with you, you landed on a small black number. It was a strapless dress that hugged your figure divinely. It was a satin black with a length that went just below your knee, however there was a slit up the right side that showed off most of your thigh. I didn’t fake tan for nothing. You dressed it up slightly with layered silver necklaces, along with a few rings. Finally, topping it off with your black strappy heels. I bet Tom will like this. The thought crashed into your mind out of nowhere. You shook your head and sprayed on some perfume before collecting your purse and invitation.

You were escorted once again by the same driver that took you to set earlier. You gave him the address on the invitation, but he dismissed it, clearly already sure of where he was headed. This time, the drive was actually quite short, and you’d managed to stay focused the entire time. You’d watched as the tall city building began fading and the larger, modern houses began appearing, many of them mainly hidden behind great hedges, or large stone fences. You watched as the neighbourhoods became richer and richer, slightly wondering what it would be like to live a life as glamorous as this. The only really nice house you’d been to was Reese Witherspoon’s. She owned a gorgeous mansion in Los Angeles, and she’d invited the cast of Big Little Lies around for dinner one night. You tried not to freak out too much. However, that was probably the moment you’d really felt your fame beginning to kick in.

The front of the house was guarded by an incredibly large gate, surrounded by a regal stone fence. There was two men waiting by the gate each in a black suit, obviously waiting for the guests to arrive. Your black tinted window was lowered for you. One of the men, the larger, balder one, asked for your invitation. You obliged, and the other man nearer to the gate opened it. The drive-way wasn’t very long, but it was large, there was room for probably 5 to 6 cars to park, along with a garage to the side that seemed to fit 2 or 3 cars. The house was noticeably large from the outside, with an older architectural design. The outer walls were mainly painted white with a dark coloured roofing. Your driver pulled up as close as possible to the door, to which you kindly thanked him and hopped out. The nerves set back in, you weren’t sure how many people had arrived, you weren’t even entirely sure who was coming, other than Tom, of course. You were once again greeted at the door by a larger man in a black suit, you’d concluded this was probably the security for the evening. He opened the door for you, without saying a word. You mumbled a thank you as you entered.

Everything was almost how you’d expected it. A chic, clean design throughout the house. An elegant stairway to the right, with a huge open plan. One of the living rooms was to the left, with the kitchen further down. You were greeted by a familiar face, it was the younger gentleman who’d given you the invitation in the first place. He welcomed you to the event before introducing himself as Donald, stating that he was Martin's personal assistant. He directed you down the large hallway into another of the living spaces. It was passed the stairs to the right. You entered the large room, not knowing what to expect. It was a huge room with incredible leather furniture and a large plasma TV that hung above a magnificent fireplace. The space was opened further as large sliding doors on the back wall opened out to a deck. The flooring inside was dark wooden floors that echoed the sound of your heels as you walked. After noticing the interior design of the place, you finally took notice of the figures scattered through the room. It looked as though most people had arrived.

It didn’t take long to notice the waiter walking around the room with a metal tray that held a few full champagne flutes. You were quick to grab one from him, politely thanking him as you still stood in the doorway of the room. You turned your body slightly, shielding people from seeing the glass in your hand as you bought it up to your lips. You decided it would be a good idea to try and down the whole thing in one go. They do it in movies all the time, right? You quickly got through about ¾ of the drink before the burning sensation really hit your throat. You pulled it away from your mouth, almost spilling the rest of it down your chin. Fuck, how do people do that. You sputtered. The champagne was actually really nice, but the alcoholic after taste is what stopped you. What a stupid idea. Go socialise.

You made your way deeper into the room, scanning where you might be able to stop for a pleasant conversation. Part of you just wanted the floor to swallow you whole. Your eyes quickly found Rachel Weisz and Daniel Craig. You initiated small talk with the pair for the second time today, which began attracting a bigger crowd. Finn Wolfhard, Idris Elba, and Sean Bean all joined the chatter, each introducing themselves to you. On top of all that, you were now starting to feel the small side-effects of that champagne as your eyes began to find it hard to focus. You noticed a few more people joining the circle, some producers and editors had made it to the party too. God, I’m never going to remember all these names.

A hand lightly slid across your lower back, someone’s confident. You sternly turned to see who it was as you were ripped away from the moment in front of you. Just like this morning, you were greeted with a large grin and curly brown hair.

“Hi (Y/N).” He greeted, warmly.

“Hi Tom.” You responded, his contagious grin rubbing off on you. You pulled him into an embracing hug, to further greet him.

“I’m glad you’re here.” He finally said as you two broke apart.

“You knew I was going to be here.” You replied, with a questioning look.

“Yea, but I almost thought you weren’t going to show up.”

“What would give you that idea?” You pressed.

“Well, you seemed pretty nervous at the meeting today.”

“Oh, I’m glad I gave off that impression.” You joked, all your tense muscles beginning to relax. Tom laughed at your response.

“It’s okay. I was super nervous the first time I did one of those meet up things, too.” He assured you.

“When was the first time you had to do it?” You queried.

“Like, late 2014. I had to do it for Captain America; Civil War. It was a pretty huge cast and they’d all been in Marvel movies before, except for me. And plus, I was like 18 at the time. It was super overwhelming.” Tom explained. You found yourself almost getting lost as he spoke, like some sort of trance. You wanted to sit and listen to him speak forever. It’s probably just the alcohol.

“How’d you get through it?”

“Robert Downey Jr was a huge help. He kinda took me under his wing, and mentored me through all of it. When someone that famous starts paying attention to you, it makes the whole thing surprisingly less daunting.”

“So, what you’re saying is, I need to make Tom Hardy my mentor.” You stated, confidently. Earning another chuckle from Tom. His smile expanded hugely when he laughed, forcing the corners of his eyes to crinkle up and his head to push back slightly.

“Good job picking the most threatening guy in the room.” He replied, laughter still escaping his lips.

“You think so?”

“Look at the guy! He huge! He’s built like a brick shit house!” Both of you now giggling away at each other. The alcohol in both of your systems seemed to be working.

“I thought I was the most threatening guy in the room!” You interjected.

“Yea, all 5’6 ft of you.” He wittily replied.

“No, seriously. Wanna know who I think the most threatening person is?” You grabbed Tom’s suit covered arm and turned his body to the right. “Christian Bale.” You continued, without even giving Tom time to guess. “I mean have you seen American Psycho?” Both of you now facing where Christian stood on the other side of the room. Without consciously realising, you arm slipped around his, now interlinked together as you tried to not obviously stare at Christian.

“Of course I’ve seen American Psycho, it’s a fucking great film.” Tom exclaimed back, tensing his bicep as the two of you squeezed your linked arms together. I guess we both get a little too friendly when we’re drunk.

Your eyes widened and grin expanded as you looked up at him with a questioning glare.

“No. I mean-” Tom stuttered slightly. “The cinematography is great and the acting is fucking incredible, but obviously the story is pretty fucked up.” He added, peering down at you. Considering your bodies were held side-by-side, your faces ended up very close to each other. God, that cologne. You had to bite down on your lip to not audibly moan, he smelt so fucking amazing. There was a clink of metal against glass, silencing the chatter amongst the room.

“If everyone could please head into the dinning area, dinner is being served!” Martin announced.

The group of you slipped into the dining area, Tom sticking close to your side. You actually felt a lot of comfort having him close to you, making you feel as though you weren’t as lonely as when you’d arrived.

There was no particular seating arrangement around the extended dining table, everyone simply found a space and sat down. You’d managed to secure a seat with Timothée to your right, and Tom sat to your left.

“Hey, I don’t think we’ve had the chance to meet yet. I’m (Y/N).” You spoke to Timothée. The mixture of alcohol and Tom’s contagious confidence swirled in your mind.

“Oh yea. Nice to meet you. I’m Timothée.” He replied, his voice was soft and welcoming.

“I’m actually a big fan. I’ve seen heaps of your work.” You began, “I absolutely loved Beautiful Boy. I’ve always wanted to work with Steve Carell.” Timothée’s eyes lit up, and you began your in depth conversation about how much you both adored Steve, most of your love stemming from the fact that The Office was your favourite TV show.

It didn’t take long before your entree was served. The waiter informed you it was ‘peppercorn-crusted short ribs with lemon, olives, and radishes’. You thanked him as you stared in awe at the plate in front of you. The smell of the deliciously cooked meat hit you first, then the incredible colours of the plate, from the green of the garnish, to the yellow of the lemon, and the pink of the radish. You weren’t really used to fine dining.

You took no time to dig into your meal. “This is so nice.” You conveyed to Tom.

“I know.” He responded, eyes wide and mouth full. “There’s this amazing restaurant in central London that does food like this. I’ll take you there sometime.” He added, almost absentmindedly. Take me to dinner? Is that an offer for a date?

“Sounds good.” You simply replied. Moving to take another bite of your food.

You continued to chat to Timothée, sparking conversation about working with Robert Pattinson, Tom decided to join too. The three of you continued chatting and laughing as your main courses were brought out. It was once again introduced to you, ‘braised chicken with hazelnut and chilli paste with a turnip and wild mushroom bake’. It was difficult being polite and waiting for everyone to get their food before you could begin eating. Everything looked and smelled amazing. This really was the life of the rich and famous. Having all these beautiful meals catered and served to you in your own home. God, I could get used to this.

Conversation flowed easily throughout the table. People joking about ‘who would win in a fight between Batman and James Bond’, or people discussing ‘Venom and Spider-Man being in a movie together’, in which Tom Holland was very eager to talk about. You even had the chance to talk to a few more actors, including Anthony Hopkins. You essentially just told him how much you loved his work, and how grateful you were to be working with him on this film. He replied stating that him and his wife were huge fans of Big Little Lies, and you just about fainted on the spot.

Next was dessert. It was simply ‘authentic Italian tiramisu’. It looked nice and clean on the plate, with the lightest dusting of cocoa powder. I wish I saved more room for dessert. Just as everyone was about to begin eating, Martin stood up and began a speech.

“First of all, thank you all for being here tonight.” With that line, you peered around the room. It finally began to sink in how surreal this all was. You were sitting in Martin Scorsese’s dining room with actors that you’d only dreamed of meeting. I guess I’ve finally made it.

Martin went on to state that the tiramisu was due to his Italian culture, and that he’d never really done a British film before, but he was so excited to do Silent Britain with this cast. And with that, he told everyone to dig in.

The chatting and laughter continued in the room, however your conversation just focused on Tom.

“Well, I was born and raised in Reading, but I’ve moved into a little house in Wimbledon now with a friend because it’s so much nicer living close to central London.” You explained.

“I live in Kingston!” Tom exclaimed back,

“Holy shit. We’re practically neighbors.” You laughed in response. You exchanged the streets you both lived on, and found out you actually lived about 10 minutes away from each other. What a coincidence. The two of you talked about the best places to get food around where you lived, and the best pubs.

“Are you going to finish that?” Tom asked, pointing over at your half-eaten tiramisu.

“No. I feel bad, but I’ve eaten so much already-” before you could even finish, Tom swapped his empty plate with yours, and began eating away at your dessert.

“Thanks love.” He stated, cheekily.

“How can you eat so much?’ You laughed back,

“I had to get really skinny for the last role I did, and I was deprived of good food for so long, so now I’m trying to fatten up again and just eating whatever I want.”

“‘Fatten up’” you mocked, “I’ve seen the Spider-Man movies, you’ve never been fat.” You chuckled.

“Well, then I’m trying to bulk up. Whenever I go to the gym nowadays I can’t do half the shit I used to be able to do when I was training for Spider-Man.”

“I love going to the gym. We should work out together.” You smirked. This delicious champagne is giving me far too much power. Tom turned towards you, looking you up and down only slightly.

“We definitely can’t go to the gym together.” He responded, washing down his last mouthful of tiramisu with some beer.

“Why not?” You asserted back.

“Because you’d be way too much of a distraction.” Tom stated, his voice darker than before. Every fibre of your being told you to take him to the bathroom and slam him up against a wall right now. But, obviously, that’s a little rude.

“Your loss, Holland.” You replied, just above a whisper, with a flirtatious smirk.

You could tell by the movements around you that the night was coming to an end. The table was being entirely cleared, people were picking up their bags and putting their coats on. You lifted your handbag off the ground below your seat and swung it over your shoulder. As you stood from your chair, you tried your best to hold your stomach in. I shouldn’t have worn such a tight dress.

“Where are you headed?” Tom asked, throwing his suit jacket on.

“I’m staying at the Four Seasons.” You replied,

“Me too.” He looked at you, almost as if you’d just blown his mind. “We should get a lift back there together.” He added.

“Sounds like a good idea.” You smiled, your body closed the gap between the two of you and you grabbed the collar of his jacket to fix it for him, so it wasn’t sticking out. He beamed down at you.

“Thanks love.”

The two of you went over and graciously thanked Martin for hosting tonight. “Make sure you two get to know each other before filming! I want the chemistry to look real!” Martin expressed, to which you and Tom chuckled. That definitely won't be a difficult task. You both said good-bye to a few others that you’d talked to throughout the night and strolled out the door.

Tom quickly went over to one of the many black SUVs lined up outside, opening the back door for you. “Thank you.” You smiled at him as you hopped in. You told the driver where to go and the ride began.

“Was Robert Downey Jr’s parties anything like that?” You questioned, turning your body on the seat to face Tom.

“Honestly, Robert’s parties are way more extravagant than that. He likes to go really over the top with them. I’ll take you to one one day.” Perfect. Another date.

“Have you got more Marvel movies to make?”

“Yea, I’m definitely making another Spider-Man movie, and then I guess we’ll see where my contract goes after that. I’m not entirely sure what the plan is, and Marvel is always pretty hush-hush about everything. Have you ever thought about doing a superhero movie?”

“Yea. I’ve definitely thought about it.” Tom gazed as you with a faint, comforting smile as you spoke. “I’ve just never really found a role to audition for. And I’ve heard they’re a lot of work.”

“They definitely are. The filming goes on forever. But all of the cast and crew are always super awesome people, and they’re always so good at what they do. I feel like being in those films has really elevated my acting skills, you know?”

“Yea, definitely. Being around other incredible actors on set seriously helps.”

“Well, let me know if you ever want me to put in a good word for you at Marvel. They love me over there.”

“Maybe I’ll try play Gwen Stacy, if they ever reprise her in the universe.” You joked.

“I definitely wouldn’t be opposed to that.” The discussion continued all the way back to the hotel. You weren’t sure if it was the alcohol, or if Tom was naturally like this, but he would not stop flirting with you. You weren’t helping by doing it back. You even pulled out all the old tricks, like touching his arm, and twirling your hair on your finger. At one point you got extremely close to him to ‘fix his hair’ for him, to which he purposely messed it up so you could fix it for him again.

The driver in the front was probably thankful that the drive had come to an end, considering how much you and Tom were talking.  

You were reminded of how late it was when you stepped out of the car. The night sky was entirely black, however the Los Angeles streets were still lit brightly by street lamps and the multiple buildings. You walked up to the small amount of stairs leading to the entrance of the building. Tom quickly grabbed your arm as you were about to try to walk up them. Your thin heels and and the alcohol in your system definitely weren’t going to be a fair match for these stairs.

“Thank you.” You laughed. You leaned some of your body weight on Tom as the two of you strolled up the stairs and into the building. Once again, your arm stayed linked within his, even though it didn’t have to. It just felt comfortable for the both of you.

“What floor are you on?” He asked.

“6.”

“I’m on 9.” He replied, as the two of you made it to the elevators. He reached out to press the up button, still not letting go of you.

“Can you walk me to my room?” You asked, with a joking pout.

“Of course I can.” The elevator chimed and you both rode up to level 6 together. As you walked down the carpeted hallway, you laughed together about something silly you’d read in the script. The two of you were obviously walking slower than usual, dragging out the time you had to spend together.

Finally, you arm slipped out of his embrace to rummage around your small handbag for the key card.

Once finding it, you slipped it into the door, and pulled it back out with a beep. The alcohol in your system meant you had to apply a little more force to open the heavy hotel door. You held it open with your body as your turned to face Tom.

“Well, this is me.” You smiled lightly, staring into Toms dark brown eyes. “Thank you for walking me up.”

“No problem.” He returned the grin. His gaze fell to your mouth for just a moment, ogling the light reflecting off your glossy lips. He stood close enough to you that you could smell that cologne he was wearing again, you still couldn’t put your finger on exactly what the smell was, other than wealthy. Each of your breaths were deep, a thick tension radiating between your bodies. You twirled with one of the silver rings on your fingers, gulping slightly as his eyesight returned to yours. The flutters in your chest turned to heavy beats, so loud you were sure Tom could hear them too. Your gut was telling you to grab him and stick your tongue down his throat until the two of you would end up messily entangled in each other on your hotel bed, but your head was telling you that really wouldn’t be a good idea.

“I-” you stammered, “I should really go. I have a big day tomorrow,” that’s a lie, “and I should really get a good night's sleep.”

“Yea, of course. I probably should too.” Tom almost sounded defeated.

“Cool. I’ll see you like some time next week.” You pursed your lips together, not wanting to make eye contact with him.

“Yea. I’ll see you next week.” And with that, you fell into your hotel room and shut the door behind you. Your back immediately hit the wall and you slumped down into a pile on the floor. A giant sigh fell from you lips, feeling like all the air in your lungs was drained from you. Shit.

Taglist!

@averyfosterthoughts​ @loxbbg​ @musicandbokkslovingweirdo​ @yourwonderbelle​ @kayceeeveeee​ @autty0314​ @poorlittlesuperstar​ @rebeccamckirgan99​ @xherosxvillainsx​ @rachaeldonnaspiteri1​ @hollands-osterfield​ @shambhavi-sethi​ @a-phan-of-youtube​ @theobssessiveweirdo​ @zedqkyu​ @nophunleague​ @spideylovin​ @martinafigoli​ @smilealways19​ @ziggyspurplehaze​ @meg-holland​ @marvelousharryy​ @tequilasunrisesenorita​ @mixer2b​ @denise1605​ @galacticstxrdust​ @lustgardn​

[real-jaune-isms]

RWBY Volume 8 Chapter 1 Review/Rundown

This volume is off to a STRONG start if I may say so myself. No big action scenes, nothing to get the blood boiling or freezing over yet, but this is just the first chapter and we have a lot of dreadful stakes and danger ahead of us. This is a setup premiere, and it promises us pain and stress like nothing before. And we’ve all been conditioned to the point that we actually look forward to that. What we got is plenty good, so why not dig in to this succulent appetizer?~

Right off the bat, we get something we knew we wanted but never quite realized how much we needed... A young black haired woman on her knees scrubbing a wood floor. Bandages on one of her fingers and right wrist, modest clothing, and so very little soul to be seen in her amber eyes. Ladies, gentlemen, and that technicolor rainbow in between, we are getting our first look at Cinder’s troubled Cinderella-style past. It’s just this one floor washing scene for now, but we see present day Cinder’s Grimm fingers scratching into the chair in front of her with the same rhythm so we can be pretty confident it’s really her. Hopefully we will get more as the volume progresses, especially with the opening showing her seem to be having trouble controlling her powers. Neo is flying an airship directly up to the giant whale, whom I will continue to nickname Monstro. Concerned by all the other Grimm flying around it, she nevertheless flies along its side and we find there are handily carved out landing pads for ships. Guess Salem modded this beast to be her mobile base. As Neo apprehensively follows Cinder up a staircase, we see these modifications include a throne which the Grimm queen is sitting in awaiting their arrival. This is Neo’s first time actually seeing the woman behind the dark curtain, and I don’t think she was expecting this. What she may have expected even less was that the prideful psychopath Cinder would actually bow down to this woman. Yet bow she does, and Salem greets her with smug condescension, asking if she’s lived up to the responsibility expected of her as Salem’s vessel for the maidens. Has she done as asked and brought a worthy gift for her goddess? Indeed she has, she’s brought her the Relic of Knowledge... and claims she acquired it all by herself, throwing all of Neo’s hard work out the window so she can have all the glory. [Neo will remember that...] But certain poisonous arachnids are unimpressed, as Tyrian emerges from the shadows to say that taking anything from Ironwood is less of a show of Cinder’s skill and more a sign of the General’s incompetence. With a dig pointed seemingly at both Cinder and Neo, he points out that James was not the first person to be outsmarted by Team RWBY and their friends. But unlike Volume 4, Cinder has her voice and claps back at Tyrian, reminding him that according to the Atlesian military radio chatter he too was outdone by Ironwood’s allies. So was Watts, for that matter, and which of them managed to get away unscathed again? Certainly not the good Doctor, and Tyrian agrees that he was a... necessary sacrifice. Speaking of, he sees Cinder brought a fresh face that could be kindling for the fires of their crusade. Salem finally acknowledges that yes, there is someone here she didn’t recruit herself, and she demands an explanation from Cinder. The Fall Maiden of course explains that Neo has powers that will be very useful to them, but refers to her only as an asset, not even a subordinate or teammate. [Neo will remember that...] 

And speaking of the “tools” Cinder has collected, in come Emerald and Mercury in fresh new outfits! I think they both look pretty good, and I especially like Merc’s new jacket with his winged boot emblem on the left side. Emerald looks quite fashionable and I like the necklace, but there’s still a lot of exposed skin for being in Atlas... Of course, some things never change and she excitedly rushes to Cinder’s side, only to be shut down with a single gruff word. Speaking of gruff, Hazel is here with a new look too. His hair’s been shortened/combed back and he has what I can really only describe as a tank top with the sleeves torn open all the way down to near the waist, that shows off the muscles and scars on his arms and up the sides of his torso. It’s a tough look, but again not very winter weather savvy, and I miss the wild man look he had before. Regardless of the new looks, Tyrian has the same old criticisms of Emerald’s loyalty to the ever so incompetent Cinder. He and Watts rained hell (and very cold snow) on Mantle and threw Atlas into chaos, while Cinder merely fixed her mistake from Haven instead of getting new Maiden powers here in Atlas. She blames Penny for that setback, and mark her words she will be going back to rend her limb from mechanical limb to get the Winter Maiden powers... except she won’t be. Salem has decreed no such action, and it seems clear she won’t be doing so for a good while. Cinder tries to object, but Salem exerts her control over Monstro merely by touching her throne and sending a glowing pulse through the entire throne room. Cinder needs to be reminded of the big picture and her very small place in it, so Salem makes a window. This is a game of chess, and Cinder should count herself lucky to even be considered above a pawn. She is still a tool for Salem to use in her own victory, and the only thoughts she should have are how to achieve what Salem tells her to do. Cinder seems to resign herself to this fate a bit, and says that she is indeed nothing without Salem’s help. In a sense, you do have to sympathize with Cinder’s situation. Clearly her childhood had her in a situation where she was forced to do as told and not given much praise or appreciation for it. She probably sided with Salem because she was promised more power than she could have ever dreamed, but now she’s back being stuck in a position of servitude and abuse. And she does what she can to feel strong and in control: pass on that abuse to her own minions. And poor Emerald does not deserve it. At least Mercury has enough self confidence to know he wants to be his own man in all this, and he seems to have the ambition to try and work his way up the ladder for more earned respect. Still, back to Cinder, she’s clearly conditioned to fear any reproach from Salem. Quieted at a raise of her hand, as if knowing that the witch could take away the maiden magic in an instant and she’d be left with nothing again, and just as easily dismissed with a passive wave. To be fair though, that was for everyone, and the others know what she can do to people who piss her off so they scram too. She ominously turns to take the lamp somewhere, but we’ll check in on that at the end. 

For now, we go down down down to a shanty town in Mantle. It’s clearly the slums for Faunus mine workers in the crater, and among them we see a familiar face. Oscar!! He’s sitting by a fire staring off in deep thought, until an old man with badger hands pushes a bowl in his direction and wordlessly indicates for him to sip some. Idk if it’s a hot soup or something, from the view inside we get it looks to just be water but that could be unintended, but Oscar is thankful. No sooner does the old fella walk away than Ozpin pipes in to tell Oscar to be on guard. An airship swoops in overhead, and most of the faunus scurry away (no pun intended). Oscar stands defensively, but the door opens to reveal Ruby!! She and Weiss came to get him, though I don’t know how they found out where he was, and Maria is flying. He gets onboard and we get an aerial shot of snowfall over Mantle followed by a much less pleasant sight. Sabyrs are still getting in through the holes in the wall, and Manticores still swoop through the skies. Oscar berates himself for thinking Ironwood would listen to reason, for so many of his choices ending up being wrong ones, and he clearly blames the current situation at least partially on himself. We see that current situation as people on the streets below continue to huddle around burning trashcans and wood piles for warmth. Ironwood seriously still hasn’t done anything to try and get Mantle’s heat back? Of course he hasn’t, he’s going to abandon them, what was I thinking? Ruby reassures Oscar that he did what he thought was the right thing, they all did. What’s important is that he’s still here. It might just be how hyped up for a certain posse of do-gooders a certain Miss @kdinjenzen has been getting a lot of us over the last few months, but I was genuinely excited to see Joanna Greenleaf come out from around the corner of a building and gesture Maria to land. She rushes the group inside a building and shoots down a camera drone that was about to turn around and spot them before heading in herself. We see sooner than hear May Marigold, coordinating civilian transportation efforts over comms while leaning over a kitchen stove. She’s sending Fiona to transport some folks from one of the sectors on a map we don’t get to see... to the crater. Oh boy, that’ll be something to get into in just a minute. Our girls and boy walk past her into a restaurant dining room. Guess non-essential services really were shut down due to this crisis... okay yeah that’s too topical. The other half of Team RWBY, as well as JNR, Penny, and Pietro, are sitting around tables idly waiting until they hear the doors open and their friends return. All eyes are on the farmboi, and Nora is the first to rise from her chair with a small smile. Oscar braces himself for an energetic tackle hug, or whatever he thinks Nora would be likely to do, but she just walks over and give him a gentle embrace. The poor kid definitely needed that. Ruby and Weiss smile from the sidelines, one of the only shots the two of them share much to my aching shipper’s heart. But it’s fine, this is a time from group joy and union. Blake voices the concerns everyone had for Oscar’s fate when he had run off to confront Ironwood alone, how they feared the worst. Weiss of course is the one to ask how in the world he got all the way down to the slums, but he avoids the question by saying its a long story, and clearly not the only one based on Penny being with them. Internally, Ozpin questions him on not telling the group that he has reemerged in his mind, but Oscar says the two of them have more to discuss first. Instead, he notes the absence of a certain sobering up bird, and that puts a frown on most of the group’s faces. Ruby says they don’t know, last they heard he was with Robyn, but beyond that no news apparently reached them. Clearly they fear he’s dead, and cannot begin to imagine he’s been accused of murder. We only infer this of course, because the convo is cut short by Joanna coming into the room to talk shop. They’re all reunited, now its time to put the group to work helping the people of Mantle. No heat, no military help, just Grimm hovering over the city in a horde unlike any they’ve seen before. Those people need help, and they are huntsmen and huntresses with the skills to provide that help. Ren is the one to question “How?” Ironwood’s not letting people up into Atlas anymore, and Salem’s forces around the perimeter have made escape from the city impossible. Joanna’s solution is to look down, to the crater right under Atlas. It’s not safe, but it’ll be warm and they can better protect everyone if they’re all gathered in one place. The teens seem hesitant, I might even say incredulous, but she assures them that May will send them where they are needed and with their skilled numbers it will be that much safer for the civilians. Their priority needs to be getting everyone into the crater by nightfall, because she believes they’ll stand more of a chance in the slums. As Joanna heads out the door, Weiss gripes that they’ll never sleep again with how busy they’re going to be, but Joanna retorts that you’re either helping or you’re baggage.

I have... some thoughts about the Happy Huntresses’ plan. Yes, evacuation of the cold city seems like a great idea, and getting everyone in a single easy to defend place is sound strategy. But there’s some Atlas sized problems with their choice of location to evacuate to, and I do realize they may not even be aware of the potential genocide they’re setting up. Salem wants the staff, which is currently in use holding up Atlas. If she takes it, as she so clearly intends to do, Atlas will fall. Atlas will fall back into the crater it rose from, where thousands of people are gathered. That is a big SQUISH that I really don’t want to see happen. I get that Joanna, May, and Fiona may not know about the Relic, I doubt even Robyn knows. But we the audience do, and that dramatic irony has us all wincing prematurely at what grim future we hope will not come to pass. Hopefully it won’t come to that, so let’s go back to what conversations are actually being had.

Yang steps up and says that they need to get out there and help the people of Mantle, but Ruby objects and says they need to do what they can for the sake of everyone. Her first thought is on getting Amity launched like Ironwood had initially planned, so the whole world can be warned about Salem being on the attack. They need help, cuz as it stands Mantle and Atlas do not have this handled. Blake, somewhat surprisingly, agrees with Ruby rather than Yang. The Happy Huntresses have a plan for Mantle’s evacuation, they’ve got that under control while these folks worry about the bigger picture. But, Yang points out, Amity isn’t actually finished and ready to be launched. Ruby considers that and turns to the smartest man in the room for an estimate on what it would take to launch Amity at this point. I’m unsure if she means send it up in its incomplete state or power through the process during this crisis to get it 100% complete before then also launching it in the midst of this warzone. Pietro admits they had made some strides in terms of construction and collecting fuel, “all potentially manageable”, so maybe that means it’s close enough to the completed product they had first planned that it can get done as things are now. Or maybe it means that with what they’ve already done its just good enough that they could probably send it up and it’d be okay? Either way, the biggest problem is actually launching it. They need it to be granted clearance from Ironwood’s terminal before it can be launched, such was the nature of its design. Yang rightfully points out the General isn’t about to give that clearance willingly, so this is a fools errand. But Ruby is thinking outside the box about the specific phrasing, and realizes they don’t need the man’s approval, just access to his terminal so they can grant the clearance themselves. That too would be suicide, requiring getting back into the academy... or does it? Pietro reveals there’s another useable terminal, within the main Atlesian military compound at the base of the city. You know, the very bottom of this floating fortress city, surrounded by airships and security drones. Even once inside, there’s a lot of hoops to jump through, more than the good Doctor can wrap his head around in this moment. Oscar notes how this is very convoluted for apparently being the easier option, but Yang rebuttals that it’s straight up impossible and pointless, not to mention they can’t guarantee any help would even come upon hearing the message. This is more than Ruby can take, and she snaps back at her sister. It’s not pointless if it’s warning the rest of the world that Salem will be coming for them next. They need to send this warning.

This is when Yang gets... personal. She brings up the rest of the team’s decision to defer to Ruby’s leadership once they got to Atlas, and how things took a real nosedive soon after that. It’s clear that she’s implying Ruby’s decisions were the reason for their situation being as bad as it is, and you can see the pain on Ruby’s face as that hits her. Some upset looks on the others’ faces show they may have thought similarly but never would have actually said so. Ren steps up and says that helping the evacuation in Mantle is a feasible action they can take here and now rather than a longshot hope. We had seen a short sequence of Yang running through the daylit streets of Mantle on this mission to evacuate groups, and now Ren is in the scene at her side to signify which mission he’s going to take. Likewise, his face visibly saddens as we hear Nora take Ruby’s side about this not just being a matter of helping Atlas, it’s about warning the other three kingdoms so they can prepare for what’s coming. And with that we see her on the rooftop with Ruby where she had been looking up at the base of Atlas. Jaune is thankfully a neutral voice of reason who says they have the numbers to be able to do both, but Ruby is really worried that being divided like this is what Salem wants. Oscar has gotten wiser from his time with Oz in his head, and points out that the division Salem really wants is emotional, not always physical. Disagreements and arguments like this are what she wants, so they need to realize they can be a united group of cooperating minds while still splitting up to accomplish different goals. Penny... has a depressing third option. Let her deliver the Staff to Salem now and hope it will make her leave Atlas before things get worse. Oscar says they really can’t trust Salem to actually do that, and that as soon as she uses it to create anything else... down drops Atlas. Yang acknowledges that at the very least they can all agree turning Penny over to any other forces will not be happening.

Ruby resigns herself to leading a small squad instead of the full team, and asks if Pietro can help them get up to the terminal. He acknowledges they WILL need someone to bypass security, but Penny is the one to offer. I’d like to note that this whole time she’s been almost lifelessly facing away from the group and staring directly forward, and her voice has been bereft of any emotion or enthusiasm. For the cheerful person she normally is, this is heartbreaking to hear. Pietro tries to raise objections, saying she’s too valuable for them to risk anything happening to her, but she looks over her shoulder and firmly repeats herself, Maiden fire burning around her eyes. I get why Pietro is a bit overprotective of his daughter, she was destroyed once and emotionally scarred during Volume 7, plus she now has powers they absolutely can’t afford to lose the use of. But she is her own girl and needs to be able to make her own choices. Coddling her like this won’t help, especially now. Yang accepts this decision with a sigh and heads for the door to start getting down to business. Blake watches her go with a rather pained look, and we see a similar one on Weiss’ face as Yang passes behind her. Team RWBY is splitting up again, and they’re worried. Understandable. Pietro stops her at the door and tosses her a set of keys, which we transition to seeing in that same hand as she’s back in the daytime alleyway with Ren. We pan over to see Jaune and Oscar decided to go with them, and hear Pietro explain there’s some new tools back at his pharmacy that he had been working on for them before the crisis. From the promotional clip we got a few months ago, we know this means the hover bikes.

Heard but not seen is Ren asking Nora where she intends to go, and she affirms she’s sticking with Ruby. Of all people, she had been the one who was the most passionate about helping Mantle, so he asks her about it now, but she says that she’s absolutely saving Mantle. Because she actually believes Ruby’s plan can be done, and so we go back to seeing her on the roof, now joined by Weiss and Blake. Blake reassures Ruby that the group hasn’t been divided where it counts, but Ruby has concerns. Maria chimes in on comms to affirm that she’ll be taking Pietro up to Amity to finish what he can, but that leaves RWBNP without a way up to Atlas. Weiss starts to say she’s got that covered, but is interrupted by someone’s Scroll ringing. Blake, Ruby, and Nora all check theirs, but it turns out it’s Penny who’s getting a call... from General Ironwood. She hesitantly answers, and as soon as Ironwood’s voice comes through Nora starts scowling. Ruby seems rather neutral, but as Ironwood goes on with his very evenly toned request that Penny tell him where she is because he’s worried for her safety and wants to come pick her up, her eyes narrow. She’s been in an abusive relationship before, she recognizes gaslighting. Ironwood says that Atlas needs Penny since Salem is here. Before she can say anything, Ruby comes to her side and puts a supportive hand on her shoulder as she takes her Scroll. Penny’s not going anywhere, she says, not until Ironwood sees the error of his plans and change his mind about helping Mantle. It was a longshot, but at least she went for it. Ironwood starts losing his cool as he berates Ruby for still being hung up on saving Mantle when Atlas is the last hope Remnant has at salvation and Salem’s gathering forces are primed to destroy it. Unless Penny comes back and helps send it high into the sky. If she doesn’t, and Salem gets through their defenses, what comes next will be Penny’s fault. THIS is straight up psychological torment, he is manipulating her and dodging all blame for his actions by pinning them onto a poor girl already going through a crisis of identity. What absolute fucking garbage you are, James Ironwood. Penny retreats into Ruby’s arms, and she embraces her sympathetically. 

But enough of these poor suffering kids, let’s get some poor suffering adults. In an Atlas medical facility, what’s left of the Ace Ops are looking at the corpse of their leader lying cold and pale on a mortuary slab. Marrow is the only one who seems genuinely sad, Elm and Harriet just grumpy. To be fair, that anger could be pointed inward cuz they’re mad they weren’t there to help him in his time of need. Or maybe Ironwood told them that apparently Qrow did it, and they’re pissed they can’t kill him in revenge. Across the hall, Ironwood is watching them from Winter’s hospital room. The doctors have her left arm in a high tech looking cast, maybe it can speed up the healing beyond our normal medical science? Or maybe it’ll boost her strength so she can power through the pain and keep on fighting for the General and his crusade? I was initially worried they replaced the whole arm, given Ironwood’s tendency to substitute cyborg tech for his own human flesh in the event of great damage. Case in point, his burned up hand got the Skywalker treatment. But no, I think this really is just a cast. As Ironwood inspects his new sleek black limb, and the doctors test what Winter is currently capable of with her arms in the condition they’re in, a guard arrives to tell them some prisoners have arrived and are being processed in Stockade B. As the doctors test her right wrist for any tendon pains, and indeed there are some pains, she asks if the prisoners are in fact Robyn and Qrow the soon to be jail birds. He asks the doctors to leave the room, which they do, and Winter assures him she’ll be fine, though her inability to make a fist without pain says otherwise. As someone who got tendonitis in my wrist after a bad scrape on my bicycle, I know that pain. Ironwood thanks Winter for her dedication, and confides that faced with such unprecedented Grimm numbers he wouldn’t know what to do without her. Their hard light shields will hold the Grimm off, but only temporarily. FIRST OF ALL, you have enough money and resources for Hard Light Dust, the rarest and most expensive kind, to be shielding the entire kingdom... but not enough money to give Mantle a decent heating grid that’s not dependent on the SDC????? Or literally anything else that might have helped them now???? Eat the rich and defund the police, folks. Speaking of hot-button political statements, before he can answer Winter’s question about what he plans to do his musings are interrupted by his fellow council members Sleet and Camilla barging in demanding to talk to him. Mass evacuations, declaring martial law? They have several very pressing questions for him, but Ironwood has gone into tunnel vision and says he will be doing everything he can to defend the kingdom, no matter the cost to him or those around him. And he makes that abundantly clear as he strides out of Winter’s room and wordlessly shoots Sleet for daring to call him scared. Judging from Camilla’s screech and the looks on Elm and Marrow’s watching faces, it was fatal. This man is straight up executing his critics, but we kinda already knew this was gonna happen after he shot Oscar off the cliff. Clearly, Camilla will be too scared for her own life to speak up against Ironwood ever again. As the General strolls away, Winter and Harriet share a look through the open door. Harriet seemed shocked, but almost resigns herself to this. She’s in too deep, and as long as she’s loyal she’s got nothing to fear. Winter, on the other hand, let her sister go out into the world as Ironwood’s enemy. Not only is she worried Weiss will be in her boss’s crosshairs, but if he finds out she let her get away with the Winter Maiden then she might be executed for insubordination.

Finally, we get the tearing dripping shot of a portion of Monstro opening to reveal Salem holding the Lamp. Looking into it, she muses how she has questions she wants answered, but she needs the key to how to ask them first. To that end, she holds the Relic out in front of a mystery Grimm that emerged from the fleshy cage she just opened. It gets a good smell of the Lamp, and she instructs it to bring her the man who can show her how to get what she seeks. Oscar is in serious danger...

And so that’s it for Chapter 1! A strong start that doesn’t fill me with despair just yet but is definitely setting up some ways for me to really feel the aster down the line. I won’t review the opening much, because those are usually really abstract and vague about what’s actually gonna happen. We see there may be another encounter between Weiss and Winter now that they’re on opposite sides, and Watts seems to still be up to trickery. Ren and Nora miss each other, and things look particularly bad for Team RWBY. Also we get serious “Penny getting hacked and going evil” vibes, and I really don’t want such a horrible thing to happen to that mecha cinnamon roll. Looks like Oscar really will get captured, and maybe Salem can change her form a little since she has big cool bat wings as she looms over him. The song will take some getting used to, but it slaps hard and Casey is giving it 100% so that’s good enough for me.

Thanks thanks thanks for bearing with me for this long ass post, but I hope you got some joy from it.

[stellar-alley]

Everfalls

•Chapter 20•

This is based off of the artwork by oceanteeeth on Instagram!

Previous Chapter // Next Chapter

(Summary: Richie and Eddie spend their first full moon together.)

Second Last Chapter!

~

Breathless, that’s what they were. Eddie and Richie physically couldn’t hold it in anymore. They had waited far too long and the moon's power was too strong to hold back any longer.

Eddie guided Richie away from the cliff’s edge. Once they were a safe distance away from the drop, they both fell onto the grass, breathless.

“W-What do we do?” Bill asked. The rest of the Losers still stood in formation, but now they were not prepared to fight. Now they were concerned about their friends.

“Go” was all Eddie could say, his eyes never leaving Richie’s tired corpse.

Stan nuged Bill, tilting his head towards town as if to tell him they should start heading back. So without another word the Losers left the Ancestors in peace.

“Okay Rich, you still there? You’ve got this'' Eddie tried to smile through the pain of both his own transformation and having to watch Richie go through his. Eddie had carefully pulled Richie’s shirt off, but let Richie do the rest as dressing down was an essential part of the werewolf transformation. Shifting with clothes only made things more complicated.

Dark fur that matched his ears and tail had appeared over his body as his finger nails grew and came to a sharp point. His bones were moving, snaping and changing. His eyes snapped open at the feeling of a hand on his back. His bright yellow eyes darted up to meet the icey blue ones of his boyfriend who stared at him with such love and adoration.

“You’re okay Richie, it’s almost done” Eddie assured him. But all he got as a response was a loud groan as another wave of pain hit Richie.

The final part was the most painful but the quickest. And it really did hurt like hell.

The following minute felt the same way that it does after a storm. The rain had stopped and the thunder was silenced. Richie laid on the cool grass, panting heavily but his bones had finally adjusted, and the pain had subsided.

His eyes fluttered open to see Eddie, still human. “Holly shit” Eddie practically gasped as Richie looked around at what caused the sudden shock.

He looked down and saw big brown, furry paws, his paws. Immediately Richie attempted to stand, but inevitably tripped and fell back down. That got a giggle from Eddie. After trying, Richie stood up on his all fours, his full wolf form. He didn’t look much different from a normal wolf, he was the size of a large dog. With thick dark brown fur and his iconic yellow eyes. His wolf ears were a bit bigger and a little harrier, while his tail was longer and fluffier.

Eddie stood up beside him and he was able to see that Richie was about hip level compared to the human Ancestor.

Richie desperately craved to make a height joke but ultimately couldn’t speak as he was, a wolf.

Eddie bent down and ruffled the fur between Richie’s ears. Something he had done to his boyfriend countless times before when he was human. Richie shook his head as if to get rid of Eddie’s hand. Eddie huffed, but he still smiled.

Carefully Eddie bent down and placed his forehead against Richie’s. The thick fur tickled his forehead as he smiled. Eddie’s long bunny ears tipped forward and brushed up against Richie’s wolf ears, sending a shiver down his back.

A moment passed before a wave of pain hit Eddie, he doubled backwards, falling onto his back. Richie rushed to his side, nudging his arm with his snout as Eddie rolled over.

Transforming on a full moon was fairly similar to the way Eddie transformed normally, except it was forced, causing more pain. Once Eddie was on his back he curled his knees into his chest and wrapped his arms around himself. The pain soon intensified as he felt the magic ripple through his body. It was all worth it as after a flash, Eddie had completed his transformation.

Richei stared down at the rabbit that stood before him. He had completely forgotten how cute his boyfriend was as a rabbit. His soft white fur, his little red nose and his wittle paws! Aw Richie would give anything to go back to the day where it was just them, alone, in the school yard. Eddie as a rabbit in Richie’s lap. But now isn't the time to reminisce on the past. It was the full moon, and they had both finally transformed. Richie was practically bouncing up and down as excitent coursed through his veins.

Eddie looked up at the hulking wolf figure that towered over him. Dear God, Richie is like a massive puppy. Richie stepped forward, bowed his head and bopped his big brown nose against Eddie’s small pink one, just like he had before.

Eddie had refrained from transforming just long enough to be able to help Richie through his transformation and give him some good pets. He deserved it after all the shit he had been through.

Eddie mentally blushed. He mentally smirked as he noticed Richie’s ears twitching with excitement and adrenaline. That's when Eddie thought of what to do next, as it was the full moon, he knew what made him feel the best so he nudged Richie paw as if to tag him. Then, they ran.

~

Finally, being a full wolf felt amazing. Richie felt like the world had finally lifted off of his shoulders. It was as if he had unlocked another part of his being that he had never been able to access until he finally fully shifted.

Also the fact that he didn’t have to experience it alone made him feel so much better. Eddie made him feel so safe, so accepted. He didn’t have to hide his secret. For once in his life he felt almost normal.

At first Richie was a little wobbly in his new wolf form. He had to get used to running on all fours. Richie fell a few times, tripped over his own paws, and at one point stopped and chased his tail like a puppy. (Eddie nearly died of laughter while watching that) Also there was the whole no speaking thing, which just kinda led to a lot of inner monologuing and weird wolf noises.

The two walked along to shoreline, paws sinking in the moist sand under their weight. Ricchie leaned over and pushed Eddie into the oncoming wave. The bunny rolled over at the push and landed in the water on his back. He let out a huff before he leaped back up and tackled richie, pinning him to the ground.

Silly wolf, doesn't even know his own strength. Eddie laughed in his head. Suddenly Eddie was popped off of Richie, tossed into the air, landing face first into the wet, cold sand.

Richie sat up, panting mancially as if he were laughing at the sand that was caught in Eddie’s whiskers.

Oh, you’re so on, Eddie smirked before he charged Richie.

The wolf caught on just before he was tackled, quickly turning and sprinting in the other direction. But Eddie was lighter and has had more time to learn and master his abilities. So he easily caught up to the young wolf. Eddie leaped into the air, landed on the wolf’s back and brought him down to the ground. The two rolled around as if they were in a fit of laughter. Which they would've been if they could talk.

Afterwards they made their way closer to town. Richie had once joked about terrorizing the villagers, and now he intended to do it. They examined the town as they carefully krept up the hill. It was well past midnight so most if not all of the lights from the buildings were out. The streets were illuminated by a couple street lamps, which allowed just enough light to navigate through the town but didn’t cause enough light pollution to block out the stars.

They approached the town with caution, their movements quiet and slow. One paw after another. They stopped dead in their tracks at the muffled sounds of teenage laughter.

Shit who the hell is out at this time of night? Richie’s ears perked up as he tried to pick up what they were saying.

“Do you think that’s them?” One voice that sounded pretty damn familiar giggled.

“Eddie’s so much smaller than him-”.

“It’s so cute!”

The Ancestors looked up to find a group of teens loitering suspiciously behind one of the dark buildings. It seemed almost as if they were waiting for the Ancestors.

Richie bent down and nudged the side of his head up against Eddie’s. Then nodded towards the group before stepping forwards towards them. Slowly they made their way up to the Losers who stayed silent during the meantime.

“H-How can we be suh-suh-sure it’s them?” Bill whispered tentatively. He stood behind the group, his form tense.

“What other wolf hangs out with a rabbit?” Ben turned to Bill with a confused look on his face.

Without another word, Beverly bent down to be at eye level with the wolf. She kept her gaze stern and serious. She stared into the wolf’s yellow eyes and watched as they examined her. Beverly didn’t flinch as the wolf stepped closer to her, then proceeded to bow his head to her. But when he raised his head, he butted her boob with the tip of his snout.

Beverly let out a shock yet amused gasp. “Oh my god, Richie you perv!” She fell back onto her butt in a fit of giggles. “That's our trashmouth alright” she declared.

Richie sat down and nodded his head at the statement.

Bill followed Beverly’s lead and kneeled down beside Eddie. The human carefully examined the bunny’s white fur and long ears. Finally his eyes met Eddie’s and he knew. He’d know those eyes anywhere.“Y-Yeah. It’s them” Bill confirmed.

“Well… I was gonna wait to give this to you tomorrow. But considering today’s events, now seems like a good time” Stan explained as he began rifling through his pocket.

The others shot him curious stares until he let out a little ‘aha’ when he had finally found it. What Stnaley pulled out of his pocket changed the energy of the group, from quiet and tense it went to curious and excited.

Stan squeaked the yellow rubber chicken. It let out a quick Eh Err, squeak like sound. In the moment that followed Stan mirrored one of Richie’s shit eating smiles smiles that he knew all too well.

“Oh my god- Seriously” Mike chuckled, placing a hand on Stan’s shoulder.

Richie stared at Stan, rolled his eyes and let out a huff.

Good one Staniel, very fucking funny

The wolf glanced over at his bunny and noticed the way his little pinked nose twitched, similar to the way Eddie’s did when he was laughing in his human form. That made things just a little bit better.

Richie’s attention was brought back to the Losers when Stan squeaked the chicken again.

“Wanna play fetch boys?” He arched an eyebrow deviously.

Richie didn’t respond, he simply stared aimlessly at them. Eddie got up and took a couple steps back, he turned to look at Stan as if to say, Well come on!

Stan took a step back and moved his hand up, preparing to throw. With one swift toss over his head, he threw the chicken, and it went far. Stan was on the baseball team after all, so he finally got to put his skills to work.

Eddie gave Richie one finale glance, challenging him almost, then he bolted.

Richie hesitated, he looked between his friends, and the rabbit. Just as Eddie was leaving the reach of the town’s light Richie got up and chased after him. He ran through the long grass, paws pounding against the dirt as he let his instincts lead him to the chicken.

Before he even got there a flash of white shot past him. Richie did a double take, spinning to turn around and watch as the rabbit zoomed back up to the group. He didn’t need to take time like he had before to know to go after him. So before another moment passed, Richie went. He ran.

Word Count: 2038

Second last chapter, done. Holy shit guys I cannot belive next week is already the finale! This is so wild. But let's focus on the present, it's Friday again, yay! I hope you guys have a great weekend and take some time to relax okay? I know life can be really stressfull right now so take some time for yourself, read a good fan fic, vibe, play Among Us, damn that's a good game lol.

And as always don't forget to like, comment, tell all your friends and go check out my other stuff! If you wanna see more of my IT fan fics, check me out on Archive Of Our Own @stellar-alley!

That's all from me guys, until next time

So Long and Goodnight.

~

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