#and yet you know all of them can and would kill without hesitation if provoked

[rainy-day-revelry]

The hardest Pokémon starter choice

(Put on the glasses)

This is the same picture.

[dnpanimationstudioclone]

I wish we could’ve seen the Robot Masters show more that even if manipulated by Sgt Night/Obsidian’s propaganda, they still had moral compasses, like those moments they showed closeness to Mega Man relating to him like FM, DM & AM(wish Aki couldve been able to talk Wave Man down from his flooding & used their powers to fix up the damage). Ngl a lot of the time they def showed them very much enjoying the whole villain/terrorism role, not needing too much pressure to do malicious things, and while some had understandable motives & backstories like Fire & Drill Man’s, others have shown to get provoked rather easy(like Cut Man) to commit terrorism/takeover & not always specifically human motivated despite Obsidians whole “humans r the problem” stuff. I feel like they could’ve pushed alot more for Cut Man & his spiral(play around with mental issues & potential stigma about robots having that)

You’d think for robots who a lot are meant to be seen as just people who felt wronged & manipulated by Night into thinking the system’s wronged robotkind & need to do soemthing about it, they wouldn’t see themselves like genuine bad guys & enjoy that so much. If they were going for a “let them be evil”, embracing the titles people were already viewing them as, show them lashing out that’d be one thing but aside from FM & DM, a lot just kinda seemed really into causing trouble & even repeating the same kinda behaviors that hurt them without much reflection or meant to be a case of “chain of harm”. I remeber when Cut was sent to get Aki, guy legit asked if Night was using him/exploring his issues & when Night confessed was happy to hear. Like WHAT!?

I think it’d been cool to see them show more restraint about what they do, like when Obsidian declares wanting to destroy the light family, show them horrified of the idea of legit KILLING a man & two kids, I can imagine Wave Man would be horrified of the idea of killing sweet Rush.

Same with Daini/Namagem I wish we could’ve seen more moments of him legit being conflicted/genuinely not wanting to just hurt people. Especially with Light saying “no son of mine would ever cross that line” yet there’s been multiple occasions of the boy being pretty ready to cross it.

Imagine if Wave Man was jsut talked down of what he was doing, Aki-We all make mistakes Wave. And believe me in your place, I’d be doing everything I can to make things right, but look at this. This isn’t right a& u know Alligator wouldn’t think so etheir. So how about we clean up this mess, together ok?

I think Wave would make the perfect Token good teammate of the robot masters, being the nicest & most hesitant of doing crimes & more so just like having friends. Same with Cut, I feel like he should’ve had way more hesitance on hurting the Lights, especially after they fixed up his tree.

Imagine if in that ep Elec Man tricking Mega Man into thinking he wanted to change, actually did but after the events of Enemy of my Enemy, made Aki more paranoid & maybe accidentally pushes Elec away, leaving Obsidian to take him back, making him think no one will ever see him beyond just a “energy crazed criminal”.

When Drill Man was wanting to make that whole Drill World, I wondered if he was treating his workers like his dad did with him. Aki if he legit asked Drill Man about what he’s doing & how it’s different from what his dad wanted.

Drill Man-oh my gosh. IVE BECOMED MY FATHER! NOOOOOOO!!!!!!

Don’t get me wrong. Not against villains who just own the title, look at Blasto Woman, she’s def aware what she does ain’t illegal & that don’t stop her, it can def work. Especially if it could be a case of them just embracing the role society gave them, “want a big bad robot, well show you that!”. I just wish we could’ve seen more moments of them showing reflection, hesitance as they were once just regular people with regular lives, most wouldn’t be immediately ready to commit robo-terrorism. Make it clear that in the end, a lot of these big bad bots are just very confused & hurt people who fell into the wrong support when they had little to no where else to return to. Imagine if for the battle at the lighthouse when Obsidian made it clear what he was willing to do to the Lights, for the Masters to actually listen to Mega Man & stand down. Only for Obsidian to make Namagem use his Hypno Powers to brainwash them to fight, like how he brainwashed the Good Guild in Gilded Cage.

I also really wish we could’ve seen them bond, grow connections like Wave & Fire Man did. Show them atleast benefitting being together, having true people to relate with. Like have them bicker & argue but show them grow soemthing between them, like a found family.

What do u guys think? What would u have wanted to see with the Robot masters? I’d love to know?

[leothetraveler]

Coin and Crown AU

Fate Worse Than Death

I don’t know why I was summoned here. I am no follower of the lamb. They a just a customer…just a customer.

            Yet here I am with their cultists, crucified. Forced to bear witness to what was going to be their execution but is now Narinder’s. Heh, if anyone else called the cat by his given name, he would throw a fit. Though I am probably the only one outside the bishops who remember it.

            “Damned Lamb!” Oh, speak of the devil. “I am at your mercy… are you to be a vengeful false idol, or a merciful coward? No longer can you blame your vile acts on me.” Strange choice of words, provoking the lamb with ‘merciful coward’ while his life is on the line. I can barely see the lamb by craning my head over my shoulder. Lamb hesitates, before turning to look at me. Their eyes, at first uncertain, fill with rage at the sight of me. Do I really mean so much to them?

The Lamb turned back to face the still cowering Narinder. “You…took EVERYTHING from me…before I was even born. My family and race were sacrificed. Because. Of. You. You and your damned family. Even so, I had hoped you would fix your mistake. That for my service, my people would be restored, that I would get to see my mother again! Fool that I was, hoping for mercy…fool that you are, expecting the same.” Lamb’s choice was clear. But instead of using the crown’s power, they turned their crown into an axe. They weren’t simply going to kill him. Infront of everyone, they were going to sacrifice him. Execute him as the lamb been. Those who faced better towards the lamb relayed to the others what was happening. Terrified whispers and whimpers of fear echoed as Narinder gave a weak laugh. “So, we are the same after all. You have become as I-”

“Lamb,” I interjected. “don’t let him taunt.” I still couldn’t see well, but it seems I had stopped them mid-swing. “While you are justified and this cat is a two-faced snake, he does speak true in one part.” I turned my head away from Lamb to the other cultists around me, whose attention was also on me. I continued, raising my voice to be heard behind me. “Killing him changes nothing. The world will fear you just as it feared the bishops. You would just be another in a long line of vengeful gods.”

Lamb walked over to my cross, a mixture of fury and grief in their teary eyes as they looked up at me. “Then what do you suggest, Leon. Just forgive him? Show him mercy, after all he has done? Just…walk away?” Narinder laughed from behind my sight. A pained but hearty, mocking laugh. “Yes, listen to the coward of Darkwood. He has been doing nothing but running and hiding for centuries!” I rolled my eyes at his jab. It is almost like he wanted to die. Knowing him, he may just prefer it. “Death is a mercy. You want him to suffer? Let him live.”

Another laugh from the bastard cat. “By all means, do. I will reclaim what’s mine in time. That crown belongs to ME, by divine right!” Now it was my turn to laugh at the fool. He sits there, at the mercy of the lamb and acts like he is still a god. How delusional must one be? How big can one’s ego get? “Ah, I haven’t heard a joke that good is months. You? Take the crown from lamb? They just stripped you of all divine might. The crown is theirs. And without one of your own, you could never hope to oppose them. You, Narinder, will be mortal for the rest of your days. However many that will be.” I looked back at the sorry excuse of a former god. “It will be your punishment. Just as you punished me with the same, 473 years ago. To quote your family, it is ‘a fate worse than death, to watch the world rot around you.’” The fear on Narinder’s face as he realized the truth of my words brought a smile to my face. Karma is a bitch. “Besides, Lamb. If there is a way to bring your people back, we need him to tell us.” Lamb visibly considered my words and then walked back to Narinder, silently sending him to the cult grounds. The crosses then lowered back down, finally releasing me and the others. The cultists immediately sprang into cheers for the lamb’s victory and praises of their mercifulness. I walked over to them as they continued to stare at the spot where they had banished Narinder. “Lamb, I…you need a hug? This one’s on the house.” I spread my arms openly, giving a weak smile at my own joke.

The lamb didn’t move. “…the bishops killed my people. I never met my father. Can’t remember my mother. I thought…maybe he would…” I didn’t wait for them to finish before pulling them into a hug. They had been through so much in such a short time. They froze for a moment, before weakly returning the hug as they held back tears. I sighed, “I understand what you mean.” Lamb looked up at me, their sorrow paused by confusion. I smiled weakly. “I can’t remember my family either. I don’t even know where they were buried. Or how many of us there were. But I remember they were hated for my actions. That they suffered because of me. Because of the bishops cursing me and making my name known to all. I know what it’s like, being all alone because of them.” It was more personal than I got with most customers, but I could tell my past gave them some comfort. The moment was broken up when a cultist approached the lamb and they had to return to being their leader. Their god. While they calmed their fears and shaped their faith, my mind was on Narinder. While he could be of use to the lamb, and such was the worst punishment we could do to him, I couldn’t help but wonder how the lamb would ever be able to get them to cooperate.

NEXT >>

[aggressivelyclueless]

ouija board

in which it gets out of hand. . . but only a little

warnings: v spooky

(heads up this one’s kinda long, whoops lol)

(@qoinq-qhost u were looking for more danny being a lil shit? vvvv)

Sam was just about ready to get the seance rolling.  Thundery and weeping outside, candlelight inside - it seemed like a good night for it.  This time around, there were four of them: her, of course; Felicity, from third-hour, had brought the board; her bestie Star (who Sam had almost uninvited, as she hadn't been deemed goth enough, but she owed Felicity a favour and letting this slip was it); and Star's boyfriend-of-the-week, Jake (also not goth, and very much on thin ice).

They sat clustered together on the full-moon rug in Sam's room, a jumbo bag of Chex Mix forgotten on the floor by Jake's backpack.  Only the little brown bits were left.  "You're host," Felicity was saying, scooting up into a proper cross-legged sitting position and centering the board on the carpet between them.  She produced the most important piece - the polished wooden planchet - and dropped it into Sam's waiting palm.  "You start."

Star opened her mouth, almost thought better of it, and then asked, "Are we going to get a demon?"

"That's not how this works," said Felicity, shooting Sam a look to keep her quiet.  Felicity had the tolerance for questions like those, and the patience not to be cross.  "We're not summoning demons.  We're communing with the dead.  There's a difference."

"Is it still going to be scary?"

Sam bit her tongue.  With luck, it would be, and she wouldn't have to deal with Star's antics next time, whether they were at her house or not.

"I don't know," said Felicity, "Maybe.  We've never done one at this house before.  We might not get a ghost at all."

Sam shrugged, setting the puck down in the center of the board and keeping her first two fingers on it.  The others scooted closer, getting comfortable, and followed suit.  The candleflames throughout the room were perfectly still.

"Is there anyone here with us tonight?"

For a moment: nothing.  She glanced up into the empty air, as if she could spot a slinking shadow on the wall or a flickering shape hovering by the ceiling.  She couldn't, even though she wanted to.

Then the slight pull of the token under their collective fingers, and the drawn scraping sound as it crawled slowly across the board: YES.

So they weren't going to come up empty tonight.  She glanced over at Star, wondering how intense things would get before she'd bail.  Sam was certain that, at some point, she would, or maybe she was getting her hopes up.  Star didn't exactly look like goth material.  All things considered, this was probably the wrong scene for her.

But she had owed Felicity that favour.

"Why are you here, spirit?" Felicity asked, shifting a little in place.  Right to the point.

The planchet under their fingers was still.  Sam knew the rules better than anyone: if the ghost chose to answer, it would have to tell the truth.

The ghost chose not to.

Star's eyes darted to Felicity, but there was a hesitation before she spoke.  When she did, the words were wrung-out and barely there.  "Ask him if he's friendly."

"You ask him," said Jake, nudging her with an elbow.  Between the four of them, he was the least invested in the endeavor, seeming more bored than anything.  He shrugged, trying to scoot his letter jacket a little higher on his shoulders without having to take his fingers off the puck.  The jacket refused.

"Okay."  Star took a deep breath, turning her eyes back to the board.  The planchet, for the time being, rested on YES.  "Ghost," she said, somewhat uncomfortable at directly addressing the dead, "Do you mean us harm?"

Immediately, she could feel the wooden puck go cold under her touch.  It slid off YES, veered partway across the board, and went still again.  The chill at her fingertips vanished.

"Don't like the looks of that," muttered Felicity.  "Sam, you think we should call this one off?"

Sam gave it a moment of consideration.  "I don't know.  Maybe, but not yet.  Let me try once."  She cleared her throat.  "Spirit - will you tell us your name?"

The planchet didn't have to think about it this time.  Star could feel the cold tingling in her fingers again as it moved, slowly but deliberately, and spelled out: JAMES.  She frowned.

"What's your purpose here, James?" Felicity ventured, but the ghost revealed nothing.  The silence stretched on; finally, she sighed.  "Doesn't like me much, does he?"

"I don't know," said Star, which she thought sounded better than a flat-out no.  It didn't do any good; Felicity was already looking a little put-out, and Star reached up with her free hand and patted her on the shoulder.  "Don't feel bad.  We still like you plenty, even if that silly ghost doesn't."

Sam fought back a groan of distaste.  Whatever Felicity saw in Star, Sam was seeing none of it.  She wanted to tune Star out, didn't want to see her so distracted as if communing with the dead was a mere game.

If things started to hit the fan, Sam was sure she'd never want to come again.  In fact, she was starting to count on it.

But would provoking the ghost be worth it?  "James," she said, still contemplating it, "Why are you here?  What is it you're seeking?"

The puck meandered for a moment, as if conflicted.  It rested on the empty part of the board between F and S, turned around, and aimed mostly toward H.

That was when Star jerked her hand back, as if the planchet had burned her.  All of a sudden she seemed to be paying attention; Sam wondered if she had finally realized what, exactly, they were dealing with.  Whether she did or not, it was too late.  She'd disrupted the connection.

Sam had never seen it, but she'd heard the stories of what happened at sessions when someone did that.

Every single candle around the room went out at once.

"Star, what the hell," said Felicity, "Remember how earlier I said you couldn't do that - "

Star's already-high-pitched voice was pinched.  "Sorry, sorry!  It's just it got cold all of a sudden, I thought he wanted me to - "

Sam scowled in the dark.  "What are you talking about, no it didn't - "

"It did so!  Just now!"

"Oh for fuck's sake, I knew we shouldn't have invited you - "

"Hey, what's that supposed to mean?"

The flash of lightning through the window made the ghost into a spindly and angular silhouette, floating in the air by the glass and jolting Star and Sam both out of their argument.  The planchet on the board, still under six fingers but by now forgotten, shot out from under them and flew across the room, bouncing off the side of the desk and skittering somewhere under the bed.

Oh, it was hitting the fan now, all right.  "This is your fault," Sam hissed through her teeth, glowering in Star's direction, but already her mind was racing to find a way to appease the disturbed spirit.  She'd held plenty of seances before, but generally found audience with lesser or fragmented dead.  Only twice had she been forced to close a session early.

Never had she met such an angry spirit before - and not only was it angry, it was in her room.

"Ideas," Felicity snapped, in an effort to keep Sam from boiling over, and in the same effort to keep Star from tears, "What do we do?"

"Run, maybe?" said Jake, but the sharp and thunderous BANG from the walls around them cut him off.  His eyes darted to the door, but it slammed itself shut before he could get up to his feet and make his escape.

"Hold on a sec, guys," said Sam, "Jake, sit down, we're not done yet - hang on, I said!  I got a flashlight."  She groped for her backpack, brushed over one of eight plushy spider feet, and yanked it unceremoniously into her lap.  Half-unzipping it, she produced the promised flashlight and clicked it once, twice, a handful of times in quick succession as nothing happened.  "Shit.  Shit shit shit - "

"There," Star whispered, her eyes fixed on the shadowy side of the room behind the bed.  She pointed with one manicured finger, making the rest of them turn to look.

The ghost was only there for an instant, hanging in the air as a smoky and ill-defined shadow against the hazy grey light from the window, but flickered away an instant later.  The pounding rain outside almost masked the haunt's staticky and echoing laughter.

Felicity put a hand over Sam's and tried not to squeeze it too hard.  Her fingernails dug in a little anyhow.  "Do you think we can still close this out?"  She didn't sound too hopeful.

"No," said Star, with a sudden and bone-chilling certainty.  "He's staying."

Sam looked over at her, agape.  How can you know that? she wanted to say, but her mouth had gone dry and she couldn't force it to move.  Star's eyes were on her; just for a moment, Sam swore there was a glint of something behind their usual blue-grey, but it was there and gone before she could be sure.

"We're staying," she said again, and this time Sam heard the echo in it, and this time the glint of green in her eyes lingered.  The ghost had her, appearing as a dark and swaying wisp in the air behind her, hands on her shoulders, keeping her still and calm.  Her eyes - the ghost's seyes - were on Sam, and a sudden, absurd thought struck her:

Isn't James his middle name?

The knot of rising terror in Sam's gut broke, and cold tingling relief poured over her.  For a moment she let it, willing the adrenaline to fade and the pounding heartbeat in her ears to settle, and then shifted gears.

That sonofabitch, I'll kill him for this one.

"No, you're not."

Star's head and the shadow's head cocked to one side in unison.  "No?"

Sam was locked on the spirit but her voice was directed at Felicity (and Jake, but to a lesser extent).  "Come here."

Felicity hesitated.  "What, are you serious - ?"

"Come here," Sam snapped, setting her first two fingers on the center of the board, ignoring the fact that the planchet was still misplaced somewhere under the bed.

"I don't like this," Felicity whispered, but followed Sam's lead regardless.

Star's fingers came out and rested gingerly on top, and Sam was certain that, underneath the veneer of shadows, the ghost was smiling.

"You listen to me, James," Sam commanded, with a seriousness that made Felicity and Jake both flinch, "You'd better get out of here."

Star's mouth turned up in a smile.  "And why's that?"

"Because if you don't, I'll banish you into next week."

"Sam," Felicity breathed, "I don't think that's such a good idea - "

"I'll do it," Sam reiterated, cutting Felicity off.

The smils on Star's face widened.  "Promise?"

Then the fingers on the board were moving, overcome by a pins-and-needles sensation that turned the board to static beneath them, and came to rest solidly over GOOD-BYE.

"See you then. . . "

Sam looked over and Star looked back at her with those big blue eyes.  She didn't seem distraught but Sam had to wonder how much of what had happened she'd remember.  She'd heard on several occasions that those puppeteered by the dead didn't tend to recall the influence, and Star wasn't horribly upset.

Still - she felt that ghost had crossed a line somewhere.  Crashing a seance, fine.  Overshadowing at said seance, even if he'd picked the least-favourite attendee?

That didn't sit right.

"You okay, Star?"

Star blinked once, twice, then cocked her head to one side and smiled.  "Of course I'm okay," she said, as if she hadn't been overshadowed at all, but the next thing out of her mouth, spoken with the utmost certainty, sent a chill down Sam's spine.

"He wasn't really going to hurt me, you know.  He let you win."

- - - -

Sam shut the door as the others left and then rounded on the ghost.  "I know you're still here.  There's no way you'd dip after a stunt like that."

(Damn right I wouldn't) said the shadowy thing under the bed, hauling himself out of the darkness a moment later.  In the light from the ceiling fixture overhead, the shadows fell apart, relenting to his more human texture and shape, and he shook the dustbunnies off once he got up to his feet.  In his hand was the forgotten token that went with Felicity's board, and he held it out to her.  "This is yours?"

Sam grabbed it from him, and only then did he get the impression that she wasn't entirely happy with him.  "You could have given me a heads-up, y'know."

"Hey, I was in the area, thought you could use a hand.  For goth cool points, or whatever."  Danny shrugged, leaning back and half-sitting on the side of the bed.  "I mean they do think you can scare off a real ghost now."

"And what the hell was with you overshadowing Star?" Sam went on, and at last the dopish grin at the corner of Danny's mouth vanished.  "So, okay, maybe I didn't want her to come.  But that doesn't mean you get to - "

"Wait, wait, hold on," Danny put a hand up in concession, "I didn't - well, I mean I did, but.  Listen for a sec, okay?  You don't like her, fine.  But I think something's up."

"Something's up," said Sam, nonplussed.  She crossed her arms, leaning back slightly in the desk chair and making it creak.  "You overshadowing people as a joke is what.  And whatever you were telling her in there, guess what  She remembers it now."

"That's what's up," said Danny impatiently, "I didn't tell her anything."

That made Sam pause.  "What?"

"You heard me.  But that's not it, let me say something else too.  I swear I'm not making this up: she saw me the second I drifted in the window.  I'm invisible and she's looking right at me.  The whole time.  It was like she was watching me."

"Bullshit," said Sam, wanting to believe it was.

Danny shook his head.  "You heard what she said.  After you banished me into next week."

"That you let me win," Sam recalled slowly.  In the moment, it had struck her as dumb-chills naivety on Star's part, but the way that Danny talked made it sound like she was serious.  Perhaps she'd just wanted to think that Star was that stupid.

"She knew it, and I didn't tell her.  I'm dead serious, Sam, she practically invited me to overshadow her.  I didn't even have to go all the way in her.  You saw it."

Sam had most definitely seen it.  "And what does this mean for the rest of us?  Or for you?  You're gonna tell me - what, she's going to miraculously guess you're half-ghost too?"

"I don't know - but you saw her the same as I did.  She wasn't scared of me.  Hell, I gave you guys a name and she was the one that didn't call me by it.  Like she knew it wasn't quite right."

"I get it," said Sam, thinking that maybe she would have been just as well off not calling him that either, "But what are we supposed to do about it?  Are you saying we should invite her onto the team?  Or what?"

Danny sighed, running a hand through his hair and letting it come to rest on the back of his neck.  He shrugged helplessly, his gaze picking out dustbunnies and imperfections in the floorboards at his feet.  "I don't know yet.  Keep an eye on her, maybe.  See if she starts saying things.  She's not as stupid as she looks, Sam.  Low bar, I know, but the last thing I need right now is somebody else to have to watch out for.  I know you don't like her.  I'm not asking you to."

He met her eyes then,  and the earnestness in them struck her.

"Just, don't let that put her in the way, okay?"

[rotshop]

HELLO welcome to another thing i write on complete impulse with no planning other than Vibes

i refuse to proof read this sux to suck </3

2b likes to think he's a logical man. He likes to think that he's able to think his way through situations fairly well and that his judgement is trustworthy enough. He likes to think that he's educated enough to not have to worry about problems that're thrown at him too much.

You put that theory to the test.

It wasn't a surprise when he'd attacked you the moment he'd seen you, mistaking you for The Auditor. A part of his mind nagged that you were a touch too tall and it seemed like your licks and spines of shadows were much calmer, only a few sticking out from your figure. Yet the higher part of him threw that out, judgement deeming The Auditor had simply altered his form slightly. Yet, when you turned to him, unfazed by any of the bullets that simply went straight through you, holes being filled once more within milliseconds, he knew he was wrong.

He hated admitting he was wrong, some stubbornness mixed with a sensitive ego that he did his best to put on the back-burner preventing him from doing so. He didn't like when things didn't go to his way ; his vision. He liked to believe that he was smart enough to have control and some level of peace even though he knew he never would really have such things. Despite his stubbornness though, he knew he couldn't make an excuse to trick himself with this case.

While it was true that for the most part you resembled The Auditor in a near mirror image (with only a few notable differences), there was one big detail that you lacked. While Auditor's eyes served to be his one and only facial feature, you lacked any completely. You were one towering silhouette that light couldn't shed anything on, it made you impossible to not notice. It felt so wrong to look and just see nothing, it made something in his gut churn and twist together as a lifeline. He can't remember the last time he felt this much genuine fear.

There was a breath of silence, his own being held as he kept his gun trained on you while you stayed motionless. He could only imagine you were staring down at him, with what emotion or intonation was a complete mystery to him. It was driving him mad just how little wiggle room he had here and how little knowledge he could use here. He regretted walking into this building in search of supplies, he regretted turning the corner and causing as much noise as he did with the other bandits littering the structure.

Eventually, you cut through the tension that'd built up, taking one slow step and then another. It didn't take too long for him to notice the bulb above him flickering, him multitasking between glancing up at it in a mix of confusion and dry irritation while trying to keep you in his sights.

He felt his heart drop when he'd noticed what'd changed, what feature you'd suddenly gained. Teeth. They stood our against you with their blood red colour, impossible to not notice and for him to properly tear his eyes away from. They weren't some stereotypical shark's teeth, almost startlingly humanoid with the exception of how pointed your canines were.

He was so caught up in that detail that he failed to notice how you were circling around him, gaze never leaving ; like a starved wolf staring down a wounded deer. He'd attempted to take a step back, caught off guard when something caught him by the ankle, sending him to the ground. His pistol had fallen from his hand in the process with a clatter, him cursing quickly before reaching out to it.

He never got to make contact. It what felt like seconds you'd whipped it out of the way with a tendril, it hitting the wall with a harsh sound. You'd stopped your pacing, instead standing across from him wordlessly. He'd panicked further at that, making some sort of attempt to scramble up off the ground to no success. You ended up dragging him up off the ground, shadowy limb wrapped around his ankles tightly.

You seemed content enough with the irritation and fear clearly printed on his face as you sighed, leaning down till you were -presumably- at eye level.

"It's rude to attack someone you don't know anything about, you could end up getting yourself hurt."

That only provoked him further. He scoffed harshly, glaring at you as hard as he could manage with all the blood rushing to his head, "Getting myself hurt? That's a bold fucking comment from the one who's been toying with me for fuck knows how long now."

You tilted your head to the side and grinned (Or, at least, he assumed you did from how the molars at the ends of your mouth seemed to perk upwards a bit) , "It's not even been 10 minutes."

"That's not exactly helping your case."

You shrugged, straightening back out to your normal height, "I didn't come to make a case, sorry to disappoint. I was simply curious as to what was going on here."

He fixed you another look, curiosity creeping up despite the logic in his mind saying he should be furious. You only gave a quiet chuckle in response, beginning to pace around him once more as you continued.

"I guess that's not entirely helpful, is it? My apologies. I shouldn't be giving too much away on the first date," you grinned a bit again as he gave you another, weaker glare, "Buuut I'll say this. I've seen your little..group, for a while now. You're quite the bunch I must say."

"Can you cut to the part where you say you have to kill me or hold me hostage or whatever?"

You laughed, him blanking as something else twisted in him at the sound. He could see you shake your head a bit at that as you recollected yourself, "No, I'm afraid not. I don't have any intentions to hurt you or your friends. In fact, I'd rather prefer the opposite."

"You've all caused quite the ruckus around here, it's clear that there's a definite struggle of powers and balanced at play. Without a tragedy, nobody likes watching opera, without it it's just loud noise and shitty rich people who'll expire within weeks. So, I would like to make things more balanced, just so things are more 50/50," you continued.

"Right, and how exactly are gonna do that?"

You shrugged as you came back in front of him again, him having to crane his neck to look up at you properly, "Well, I was hoping you would be able to help me out with that. I can either just give a few little hints about things you would -no offense- take fucking ages to find or I could drop off supplies."

He'd paused for a few brief moments as he considered it. You were definitely something to keep a tab on in terms of you not selling them out or anything. While a part of him yelled to not trust you by any means or lengths, another insisted there wasn't any real maliciousness in your offer.

You tilted your head to the side once more, "So, do we have a deal?"

He stared for another few moments wordlessly, watching for any kind of tell or give that you were bluffing. Yet, as you simply looked back at him without much motion or any real sign of mal-intent, he realized it wouldn't work. So, after a hesitation he let out a small breath he didn't know he'd been holding onto.

"If you put me the hell down then yeah, sure."

[everyhowlmarksthedead]

Baby, how do you sleep when you lie to me?

FRANCISCO ‘CATFISH’ MORALES and BEN MILLER x FEM!READER┃ TRIPLE FRONTIER.

❝ summary: Benny has flirted with another woman and now he has to bear with the consequences.

❝ words: about 2.8k.

❝ warnings: nsfw, polyamorous relationship, threesome, fingering, voyeurism, unprotected sex, language, mention of bodily fluids and I think that's all.

❝ a / n: you all can blame @chibsytelford for this because it was just a fantasy I had and she pushed me to write it because I can't refuse anything from her. I left the end open so, in case you enjoy it, I have more ideas for them.

Gif credits to the author.

You have given Ben the silent treatment since two days ago. Every Wednesday the guys and you go to a pub to share some beers and old stories and to play pool until late at night. But the younger Miller drank more alcohol than he should and started to flirt with a random chick, who was making him googly eyes since you all put a step in. Supposedly, nothing happened between both thanks to Will who stopped him —supposedly because you weren't there when that happened, as you asked Frankie to take you home; miffed and ashamed.

You have never doubted the polyamorous relationship the three of you are committed to: until that night. The thought of what could have happened if no one had separated them is killing you slowly. You love them both with your life, you can't live without them. But Ben doesn't deserve any kind of attention from you. The funny part is that he doesn't remember anything from that night and blames the beers he drank for his behavior. If he did it, he did it for a reason though.

You can't lie saying it's been easy for you to punish him. You miss him during nights when only Frankie warms you between his arms, feeling a little unprotected without Benny sleeping by your other side, even if he's in the next room. You've found yourself waking up in the middle of the night with a suffocating sensation burning within your chest, crying for the lack of his presence. And Catfish is starting to get tired of this situation.

“This has gotta end”.

The nervous movement of your knee, rising and falling, suddenly stops by the firm tone of his voice and the finger pointing out the distance between you and the boxer, both at opposite sides of the sofa. Since he has reunited the three of you in your living room five minutes away, Frankie has been walking from one side to another like a caged lion, trying to find a way to reconcile you.

“Kiss her”. The pilot demands, three steps away in front of you.

“Try to kiss me and I'll knock you down”. You quickly reply standing on your bare feet, frowning as you cross your arms on your chest.

Of course, the two men knew which would be your response, but Frankie is the one who knows how to break through your fortress when you're resentful. He walks towards you with no expression on his face, leaning forward to press his lips on yours. A soft touch as if he is asking you for permission to go ahead, although he doesn't need it. You are pretty aware of what he's trying, but you can't refuse when his charming tongue slides itself into your cavity to play with yours. You gulp an arousal gasp, feeling Benny's blue eyes —becoming darker at the view— firmly stuck on how much you enjoy Frankie's hands pawing and squeezing your buttocks while tasting the pair of lips he could die for.

You are too bewitched to notice the pilot beckoning him with a hand to come closer. Ben hesitates scratching his forearm with his head bowed down like a beaten puppy. Your indifference has caused him nightmares, pain and anguish. Yes, sex is amazing, but you're more than a girl to hook up. He needs you. He needs your hands to stitch him up after a fight. He needs your legs around him to feel like he's at home. He needs your chest to rest his forehead whenever he feels the world is falling around him. He needs your kisses to put him to sleep when insomnia takes over his brain. He needs your laugh to be happy.

You have been so assorted in your own thoughts that you haven't noticed the change until you hear Frankie's whispers in your ear encouraging Benny to touch you as his trembling fingers don't dare to do it. And now that you are feeling him this close again, you don't want to stop. You can't. The heat begins to concentrate beneath the cotton fabric of your panties, as his tongue invades your mouth and Frankie sticks his chest to your back.

“Tell him what you want”. He murmurs gripping your jawline using five of his fingers, while his free hand lands on his own growing bulge.

Ben trails a path of wet kisses to your neck, down to reach your collarbone. “I wa— want you inside me”.

“But he doesn't deserve it. Not yet”. Frankie claims, earning a whimper from his friend. “Take his hand, show him where you want it”.

Of course, he will not let the boxer have any pleasure from this round. He first has to fight for it —fight for you, after disrespecting your relationship. Because Catfish is upset with him too. Resting the back of your head on his shoulder as you grab Benny's right hand pinching one of your nipples over the dark shirt, you drag it slowly over your body. He can't help but nail his fingertips in your skin, need for your touch, desperate to feel something yours. The younger Miller swallows a knot stuck in his throat when the palm of his hand cups your heated and soaked cunt. You both moan inevitably when he gently rubs it, raising his dark ocean eyes towards yours, as Frankie peppers the top of your head with sweet kisses.

Ben doesn't wait for another signal to snake his long fingers to put your panties aside and cautiously traces the wet slit between your folds, hoping you don't pull him away at the last second. When he sees in your orbs how needed you are for him, understanding you're not going to stop him, Benny pushes softly his index finger into your center, well-aimed to your tight warm hole. You can't help but moan somewhat alleviated, placing your hands on his shoulders to find balance as your knees go weak at his touch. Frankie licking and biting the sweet spot under your ear, whilst massaging your breasts with his experienced digits, doesn't help either.

“Tell him why you are so damn tight, amor”. The pilot hums as soon as Ben's finger has reached your limits.

“I ha— haven't had sex… since Wedne— Wednesday's noon”. You whining almost brushing the younger lips with yours, so concerned that you can't stop your hips to swing looking for more friction against Frankie's hard cock pressed to your ass and over Ben's hand.

And, oh, now he already knows too why Frankie is controlling you and what he can do. And he feels more guilty now. He still can't believe he flirted with a woman who is not you and it's something that is going to chase him for the rest of his life. A life he doesn't want to live without you, nor without his friend.

“Can I put another one?” Ben almost beg, asking Frankie for permission, who continues enraptured on biting your neck with the clear intention of leaving some marks there.

“Uh-huh”. He just affirms.

Ben maneuvers inside your panties to flex his long finger to join the index one. Instantly, your hands grip the fabric of his t-shirt in two fists, strongly closing your eyelids as a pleased whine dies in your parted lips touching his. Saying that it feels so good would be insufficient. The three of you are used to have sex, at least, two times per day —some days, they're capable of overstimulating you to the point that you can't move a single inch of your anatomy. The pace of his thrusts become faster, as much as the limit of your panties lets him, in and out. He knows exactly how to curl and swirl his fingers to push your g-spot, to give you the pleasure you deserve, to make you feel desired. Frankie is the best at eating you out, as his experienced tongue can make you cum in less than a minute. But Ben is the one who knows how to use his trained hands to put you to beg for more, and more, and more.

“Amor, I need to fuck you”. The pilot hisses frustrated onto your ear, before biting and sucking your earlobe. And you are conscious of how he's going to punish the other.

Making him look without being allowed to not even touch himself.

Ben pulls his hand away causing you to grunt disappointed, so Frankie can walk you to the sofa.

“Don't you dare to taste her”. He says then pointing at the blonde, signaling the wet fingers in your juices until he cleans them in his own t-shirt. Catfish knows how much Ben loves to suck them clean, but it's part of his punishment. So he will learn to not disrespect you again.

Removing the only two pieces of clothing that cover your body, you put on four over the sofa keeping eye-contact with the younger, whilst hearing the pilot undoing the belt and the zip that keep his jeans on. Frankie positions himself behind you with a leg kneel on the sofa and the other stand on the floor. At the same time, Benny sits over the armrest, close enough at least to be able to kiss you. He needs something from you. And he'll conform with it.

Usually, Frankie loves to take his time worshipping you —slowly, meticulously— but he can't wait right now to slam his hard dick into your soaked cunt, crashing his pelvis against your buttocks. You cry out on Ben's lips, as the older is still pushing your limits as much as he can with both hands nailed strongly in your hips, almost hurting you.

“Tell me how it feels, baby”. Ben requests huskily, gripping your whole neck with all his fingers.

“Oh, god…” You breathe through your nose, causing your stomach to contract itself because of the lack of air in your lungs. “Frankie feels so good… He's too thick, Benny… He fi— fills me so good…”

“Yeah?”

“Yes…” You try to nod with your chin, as he continues balls deep inside you. “Please, Frankie… fuck me… I need you. I need you to fuck me hard”.

The way you beg him provokes Ben to clench his jaw. He loves that honeyed and painful tone of voice too, pleading him to be impaled by his length and he knows he will have to deal with this situation for some more time until you believe him —until you believe that he doesn't want any woman, but you.

“I'm gonna fuck your soul outta your body, amor”. He growls going back only leaving his glans inside you, before pounding you again with all his strength, enjoying how pissed Ben is watching you two right now, without even being allowed to jack himself off.

Frankie rocks his hips back and forth with an insane rhythm that doesn't let you recover from the hit to your g-spot when he's already pushing it to its limits. The boxer drinks your delighted gasps, not being capable of hearing you moaning Frankie you fuck me so fucking good, baby. He wants to hear his name too and the rage is consuming him by leaps and bounds. Ben always enjoys when Frankie pounds your pussy as you blow him, or vice-versa. There are other times when he's too tired and it's Frankie who worships your body with total adoration. There's no competition between them; but right now, after almost three days ignoring him, not feeling anything more than indifference, Ben is furiously needed.

But doesn't seem enough punishment for Frankie, who —not only haven't had sex since the last Wednesday— that has heard you all this time crying for Benny, believing he didn't love you or desire you anymore. Believing that he was just looking for an excuse to fly away from the two of you. And yes, you have pretty clear that if one of them decides to not continue, you will stay with the other one. You really love them both. Frankie tangles a hand in your hair, forcing you to sit up on your knees and arch your back so Ben has a better view of your naked and sweaty body being hardly fucked by him with no mercy, whilst he is just there. Watching. Feeling the painful pressure under the soft fabric of his grey sweatpants. Feeling that he could cum just of watching you being used to finding the most animal pleasure.

“Fuck, amor… you're so fuckin' tight”. Frankie hisses, placing his chin on your shoulder as his dark eyes are on the blue ones, rejoicing at how much Benny wants to leave right now and maybe hit his punching bag until destroying it. “So wet only for me… So warm you co—could set me on fire”.

Ben is aware that if he leaves now, everything will be worse. So he's doing his best to endure like a champion, biting the center of his bottom lip when Frankie tilts your head to trap your mouth and tuck his tongue into it. You feel like you're floating to the seventh heaven when he drags one of his huge hands down your torso to look for your throbbing clit, as your walls clench around his twitching dick. You're close, too close to falling above the edge.

“Please, Fra— Frankie, don't stop”. You whine against his lips, feeling some tickles because of his perfect mustache, breathing his own breath.

“You wanna cum, ah? That's what you want, baby girl?”

He can't hear your response due to the obscene and filthy dry sound his pelvis produces crashing against your flesh once and once. No mercy, rough like he has never been with you unless he has been out of town attending some kind of mission —so keen to fill your guts with his cream and mark a territory Ben isn't allowed to touch for now. Your moans become erratic, stepping on each other. Your voice is breaking with a high-pitched tone, not being able to handle it anymore. And your pettiness appears from nowhere, after what your heart has suffered. You cry out Frankie's full name with your crystal eyes, because of too much pleasure, glued to Ben's.

“Oh, fu— fuck, Francisco!”

Your vocals echo around the living room, whilst he continues going deeper and deeper. His pleased growls join yours, rolling your eyes to the back of your head when Frankie explodes inside you like an unbridled torrent, so warm that it feels like hell is concentrated in your soaked and filled cunt; abused after a short but an intense round of slams straight to the weakest spot of your anatomy.

Even so, he is still pressed against your limits, holding his still-hard dick between your wet folds whilst trying to recover your breaths. You can see Ben heavily gulping his saliva, keeping his hands away from the lump under his sweatpants. It hurts just looking at it, but these are the consequences. And he hasn't cheated you. He feels like he has done it though, and that's more painful than the erection claiming attention, or how only Frankie is allowed to touch you, to comfort you, to talk to you —to interact in any kind of way.

And now, Ben can leave to have a cold shower.

It's the third night you can't sleep. Although you're really tired, you can't find the point where your brain disconnects from the world. Curling your knees to your chest, wrapping your arms around them, you put your eyes again in the stargazing above your head. The soft breeze, sitting on the grass of the backyard of your house, calms you somehow but not enough to husk the insecurities Ben has created you.

Lost in your thoughts, you don't notice Frankie's presence until he settles himself behind you, urging you with his forearms on your chest to lie back against his. Pressing his lips on top of your head with a tender kiss, he sighs slowly and quietly.

“Benny loves you. He really does. I'm not gonna defend him, I don't understand why he did it and I don't wanna think 'bout what could have happened. But he loves you”.

“I know, but… I feel like I'm not enough for him anymore. Like we aren't enough for him anymore”. You whisper resting your head under his chin, closing your eyelids and lacing your fingers with him, looking for some consolation. “Maybe love isn't enough for him and he doesn't feel attracted to me like he used to”.

“Bullshit, baby. Didn't you see how he was lookin' at you the whole time? Like a fuckin' starving dog, and not because he hasn't had sex in three days. But because he hasn't been touched by you in an eternity. He's been following you like a puppy all around this time, sleeping against the door of your room, begging you to forgive him”. Frankie doesn't want you to convince you about anything, but what he's saying are facts. “Take your time, okay? But don't be too harsh with him. Ben is still here, right? That's the answer to your questions”.

If you’ve liked it, lemme know in a comment, I’d really appreciate it. Reblogs are welcome too, so more people can enjoy it! ✨

GENERAL TAG LIST: @mayans-sauce @peoniarose @destynelseclipsa @band-psycho @myakai13 @petlaufeyson @-im-fantastic- @horsesandwolvesaremyanimals @rocketqueen @rosieposie0624 @ellyseveronica @Jessprins13 @diaryofkali @ravenmoore14 @starrynite7114 @kenbechillin @miahelen @monkeyluver4546 @sheeshgivemeabreak @jadesamhart @rawrlittlepanda-95 @megapeacelovemusic-blog @katsav17

TRIPLE FRONTIER: @phoenixhalliwell @goldielocks2004 @pedritomando @spideysimpossiblegirl @danniburgh

[mimisempai]

When you kiss me, you speak to my soul

Summary:

5 times when Loki receives an unexpected kiss and once when he gives one. (or more)

______

This story inaugurates a new series.

"Together, for all time, always"

This series is my way out in case our boys don't canonically have a happy ending.Background: After the events of the TV show, all the members of the TVA are aware of their status as variants and decide to work together on a better TVA. The main team is composed of Loki, Mobius, Sylvie and Miss Minute. The rest will come as time goes by. The stories do not necessarily follow each other.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/32203465

3123 words - Rating G

1.

"Okay Loki! You know that in order to get your time travel pass, you have to prove that you know the rules perfectly."

Loki, annoyed, rolled his eyes and sighed,

"Honestly, I'm a rehabilitated variant, god of mischief, who saved the TVA from its slavery, that pass should be granted to me without going through any fucking tests!"

Miss Minutes jumped in front of Loki and pointed her little finger in the direction of Loki's nose, "Ttttt a god don't swear! And when the new TVA administration, of which you are a part, put the rules in place, you all decided to start over. With a new, admittedly less rigid, but still regulated basis that you signed up!  Come on, only two more points to validate!"

Loki grumbled, itching to send the little clock flying.

Unperturbed, Miss Minutes continued, "Tell me the basic rules of time travel? "

Loki began to recite in a bored tone, "Do not interact with yourself, do not interact with your ancestors, do not interact with historical figures. Don't interact with the big events in history even if it means not being able to save everyone. Pay attention to small details and use your time wisely.

"Perfect my little Loki!"

"Hey, a little respect Miss Mimi!"

The little clock coughed and Loki noticed a slight flush on her little cheeks.

"Well, then explain to me the three major paradoxes of time travel."

Loki, keeping the same jaded look on his face, recited again, "The Grandfather Paradox, if you go back in time to kill your grandfather, you effectively kill your father, and therefore yourself. The Predestination Paradox is simply when your past self is the very cause of your need to travel back in time. This creates an endless loop of travel, which is why it is also called a closed causal loop. Finally, the Bootstrap Paradox. It occurs when something is returned, often to the traveler himself, negating the need for its creation in the first place."

The little clock jumped all over Loki's desk, clapping!

"Yay my little Loki! You'll be allowed to get your pass validated!"

Loki, happy but irritated by the little machine, asked him, "So that means I don't need your lessons anymore, right?"

"Absolutely!"

Loki rubbed his hands together as he said, "Perfect."

He began to move his hand, thinking of a spell to cast on the annoying little clock.

A voice whispered in his ear, "Loki... what did we say about spelling those weaker than ourselves?"

Loki turned to Mobius with a pout, "but Mobiuuus, just a little spell!"

Mobius bent down and took the hand with which Loki was about to cast his spell.

He said softly, "These hands do such beautiful magic, it would be such a shame to make them cast second rate spells."

He laid a gentle kiss to the back of Loki's hand and then walked away with a quiet step.

Loki, slightly surprised, touched lightly with his other hand the place where Mobius' lips had lingered.

Then he got up quickly, knocked over his chair and ran behind him.

Miss Minute, who had witnessed the scene, raised her eyes to the sky and returned to her screen.

2.

Mobius was waiting outside the elevator.

"Mobius!"

Mobius turned around, Loki was coming towards him with a quick step. He looked at his watch and said with a slightly reproachful tone, "You'll really have to learn to be on time!"

Loki, with a cheeky grin on his face, replied, "I find I'm making progress, yesterday I was 13 minutes late and today only 11."

Mobius rolled his eyes and was about to answer him when they were interrupted by the voiceover from the elevator.

"The elevator is momentarily out of order, please use the service stairs."

Mobius walked to the door next to the elevator and held it open, waving his hand towards Loki.

"After you."

Loki walked past him and began to descend the stairs.

Almost arriving at the bottom, Mobius, on Loki's heels, put a hand on his shoulder and turned him to face him.

"What's wrong?" Loki asked him, surprised.

"Nothing's wrong. Everything's fine," Mobius replied softly before taking his face in his hands and leaning in to kiss him.

A few moments later, they separated to catch their breath.

Loki gasped slightly, asking Mobius, "I'm not complaining, but what was that for?"

As they finished descending the stairs Mobius replied, "It was the perfect opportunity to reverse the roles, for once I was the one who had to bend over to kiss you."

Loki was still smiling as they walked through the door.

As they passed by the elevator, the door opened to reveal the other members of their team.

"Huh? Is the elevator fixed yet? We took the stairs because they reported that the elevator was momentarily out of order, like... three minutes ago."

"What? But we got on it three minutes ago, four floors higher than you."

Loki looked back at Mobius with a little doubt.

Mobius replied, "Just because you're the god of mischief, doesn't mean you're the only one who can use it."

3.

"Argh, for crying out loud, dates, more dates, always dates!!!"

Loki rubbed his eyes trying to fight the fatigue that was overtaking him.

He stood up, took a few steps to stretch his legs before returning to his seat and continuing to flip through his files.

"Need a helping hand?"

Mobius put his hand on Loki's shoulder and gently squeezed it before sitting down across from him without waiting for an answer.

He continued, "I know this isn't your favorite part of the job, Loki, but it's part of it and I'm glad to see that despite your reluctance, you're not afraid to pitch in.

Loki grunted, "I just don't think it's fair, Sylvie never has to do this kind of work. She's always out there."

"Have you been traveling through time, through all kinds of apocalypses like her for that long?"

"Hmph!Always the voice of wisdom huh?"

Mobius snickered, "Me? No, of course not, but the wiser of the two of us, that I am."

"You prick!" muttered Loki.

"Hey, I heard that!"

They both immersed themselves in the files.

After two hours, Mobius saw Loki get up.

"I'm going to stretch my legs for two minutes."

"Okay."

Five minutes later he saw a small bowl of salad appear in front of his eyes.

Loki said to him as he sat down, "to make up for my bad mood of earlier."

Mobius put his hand on Loki's forearm, "Loki, there is nothing to forgive.  You are allowed to have mood swings. I'm not asking you to be someone else. But thank you for the consideration."

He ate the salad Loki had brought him while the god got back to work.

A little later, he was disturbed in his research by a light snore, he looked up at the familiar sight of Loki asleep, his head on his crossed arms.

He had a fond smile. He knew that this kind of work must seem tedious to someone like Loki and yet, even though he grumbled and acted like a drama queen on a regular basis, it didn't stop him from working seriously.

Looking at the time, he thought they had worked enough for today.

He stood up and whispered in his partner's ear, "Loki, wake up. It's late. We're done for the day."

As Loki slowly opened his eyes, Mobius placed a kiss on the top of his head before getting up and going to put the files away.

Loki straightened up and was stretching again when Mobius returned.

"Was I dreaming or did you kiss me on the head?"

"Unfortunately my sleeping beauty's lips weren't accessible so I had to settle for kissing the top of her head to get her to wake up."

Mobius winked at her and headed for the door.

He turned and said again, "Are we going home?"

Loki, who still hadn't gotten used to the warmth these few words provoked in him, quickened his pace to join him.

4.

When Mobius arrived at the cafeteria, he saw Loki concentrating at the dessert counter.

He joined him, placing his hand on his lower back to signal his presence.

"You look completely absorbed in the contemplation of these desserts. Do you have a favorite?"

Loki turned his head toward him and grumbled, "There's always so much to choose from. And every time there's a new kind. I don't even know what to choose. In Asgard there was fruit and... fruit."

Mobius was amused every time Loki was faced with this kind of problem. He made it an insurmountable challenge. This time, Mobius offered to help him.

"If you want we'll take several and share."

Loki nodded, " You choose, because I don't know what to take."

"Okay, go sit down, I'll pick and join you."

Mobius took a sample of several desserts, located the table Loki was sitting at and joined him.

They spent the next hour sharing the dessert plate. It was just the two of them left in the cafeteria. Loki was finishing the tiramisu while Mobius was bringing a last spoonful of chocolate mousse to his mouth.

"So, have you made your choice? What's your favorite?"

Loki licked his lips and replied, "Undoubtedly the tiramisu."

He put his spoon down and asked Mobius, "What about you?"

Mobius, who was sitting next to him, moved closer and looking at Loki's lips, murmured softly, "I'm hesitating between the chocolate mousse and the tiramisu."

He closed the distance between them and placed his lips on Loki's. Loki parted his lips and let Mobius explore his mouth with his skilled tongue. Mobius finished the fierce kiss with a light bite on Loki's lower lip, soothing him with a final lick. Then he moved back.

"I think in the end, tiramisu is my favorite."

5.

They had just returned from the mission and were in the locker room.

Loki was putting his things away in his locker. As always after a successful mission, he was so excited that he was talking non-stop.

Replaying the events in detail, and because he was Loki, he didn't hesitate to emphasize the moments when he and Mobius had been particularly good.

The rest of the team was used to it and listened with one ear.

Mobius smiled fondly.

Continuing to babble, Loki followed the rest of the team for the post-mission debriefing.

As he walked out the door, he felt himself being pulled back. Then a hand reached into his hair and pulled out the tie that held it together.

He looked back at Mobius who was putting the rubber band in his pocket.

"Mobius?"

Mobius walked over to him.

"Why did you do that?"

Mobius replied with a mischievous smile, "Because when you have your hair tied back, I can't do that."

He raised his hand, and pushed behind Loki's ear the strands of hair that fell over Loki's face, letting his hand linger on the god's neck.

" Neither this."

With his hand on the back of Loki's neck, he ran his fingers through Loki's hair to comb it before gently grabbing it and pulling his head back slightly.

Having cleared with this gesture the throat of Loki, he deposited a rain of butterfly kisses.

Loki sighed, his lips parted, "Mobius..."

Mobius moved back again leaving his hand in Loki's hair.

"Nor this."

He raised his second hand and joined it with the first on the back of Loki's neck, tangling his fingers in the long black strands before pressing gently, forcing the god to tilt his head forward. Their lips were so close that each could feel the other's breath. Mobius pressed his lips to Loki's, his fingers clutching his hair as the god's hands found his waist.

Their kiss was long and slow, and when Mobius pulled back, nipping at Loki's bottom lip, He saw that his eyes were clouded and his mouth wide open.

"That's exactly why I like you better with your hair loose."

With a smile, he kissed Loki briefly on the cheek and headed for the locker room door, the bouncy step of one who has just won a victory, oblivious to Loki's hungry stare.

+1

Loki had had enough.

Mobius obviously enjoyed starting fires with Loki and never extinguished them.

Loki was on edge.

Not that Loki didn't appreciate Mobius' spontaneous displays of affection and kisses, the man was extremely inventive and talented, but he felt like a ball of clay in his hands.

His pride as a god of mischief was at stake!

He had to regain the upper hand, just a little, just a few moments.

"Hoho miss Minutes, looks like someone needs to get laid!"

"Hey Syl! I'm just a pure little watch. I don't want to know anything about your sex lives!"

Sylvie sitting with her feet up on Loki's desk fluttered a paper cutter in the air and snickered back, " Which sex life Mimi?"

The watch returned to the screen and grumbled, "Never mind, Loki and Mobius's love life is none of my business! Hmph!"

Loki with his hands on his hips and a dark look in his eyes, muttered to Sylvie, "Don't you have a job to do instead of gossiping with that piece of junk clock?"

"Hey jerk! I heard you!" Shouted the little voice from the monitor.

"It's so much more interesting to watch you mope about your mustachioed prince."

Loki slumped into the other chair, a sulky look on his face.

"It's not so bad though?" asked Sylvie, studying him, her chin on her hand.

Loki told her everything, from the kiss on his hand to the fiery kiss in the locker room.

"And you dare to complain?!" Sylvie asked him, quite irritated, "You have a man who is completely devoted to you, and full of attention for you.  Do you realize how lucky you are?"

"Wait, Syl! It's not that I don't like it. On the contrary, but... argh" Loki tugged at his hair, "I don't know how to say it, before, the Loki before the TVA, I've always been a hedonist who enjoys the pleasures of life, who takes and throws, but now, even though I'm still a hedonist, I don't just want to consume anymore, I want to give too. And right now I feel like I'm the only one receiving."

"Aw, you're cute you know."

"Hey! Don't make fun of me!"

"But no, well just a little bit, but really Loki, the fact that you're thinking about this, shows how much you've evolved right? Have you even tried talking to Mobius about it?"

Loki shook his head, "You know me, I often talk a lot to mask my insecurities and also because I like to listen to myself talk, but anyway what I mean is that when it's serious I'm unable to express myself properly."

"And show him?"

"How?"

Sylvie rolled her eyes, "Loki, are you the god of mischief or not? You are capable of seducing anyone! Don't embarrass me!"

A few moments later, alone in his office, he thought back to this discussion.

How could he surprise Mobius?

Mobius who knew how to read all his tricks...

Of course! The answer was obvious!

What better way than a direct approach!

He waited for the right moment and went to Mobius' office, sure to find him there.

As he walked through the door, Mobius looked up, a smile blooming on his face as he saw Loki.

"Loki!" He wanted to stand up, Loki stopped him by waving his hand. With one hand he locked the office door and with the other, using a flick of his wrist, he turned Mobius's chair around before walking towards him.

Then, without warning his lover, he straddled Mobius' lap and framed his face with his hands before throwing himself on Mobius' mouth.

Mobius pushed him back slightly and managed to articulate, panting, "Wait, wait, wait Loki! What's the matter with you? Not that I'm against it, but I'm surprised, pleasantly surprised, that you'd take the initiative like this."

Loki with his forehead and lips against Mobius' replied, equally breathless, "The problem is that my lover has been teasing me all week, kissing me everywhere and at any time, and hasn't given me a chance to return the favor, so now you shut up and let me kiss you! It's my turn!"

As Loki resumed the interrupted kiss, Mobius decided, with the last fragment of coherent thought he possessed, that all he had to do was enjoy it. He just ran his hands over Loki's hips pressing him closer until there was no more space between them.

He tried to control the kiss, but Loki would not let him, and finally, after a brief struggle, he gave in to the kiss and the shivers of pleasure that ran down his spine.

He believed to be out of air when Loki moved back slightly and fixed him, the eyes shining with satisfaction, licking his lips like a cat which had just devoured a pot of cream.

They slowly caught their breath and Mobius couldn't help but gently tuck a lock of Loki's hair back behind his ear in a gesture that was becoming more and more familiar.

Loki leaned into Mobius' hand.

"Hey Loki, more seriously," Mobius told him softly, "does it bother you that I'm acting like this? Because you know you can tell me."

Loki sighed, "It doesn't bother me per se, it's just the lack of reciprocity, the fact that I'm receiving a lot and giving nothing."

Mobius shook his head with a smile, "Sweetheart," he couldn't help but notice that Loki seemed to appreciate the endearment, "that's not how it works. When you kissed me just now, did you feel pleasure?"

Loki, indignant, protested, "Yes, of course I-"

Mobius put a finger to his lips.

"It's the same for me, you know. I am aware that in your head the gears are spinning wildly non stop, but in such cases, don't think. Just enjoy it, there's nothing selfish about it."

Loki nodded, then passionately kissed his lover once more, until they were both out of breath again.

Then Loki traced a path of kisses from Mobius' chin to his ear and nibbled on his lobe before whispering, his breath making Mobius shudder, "The rest is for later my love..."

He stood up and headed for the door while swaying his hips, fully aware of the gaze that followed him.

Then before he walked through the door, he threw over his shoulder, with a mischievous smile, "I too can light a fire and make you burn for me."

_________

Not beta'd I hope you enjoyed it 🥰

[mardereads19]

Elriel Month 🌸🦇

Day 31: Free Choice

Continuation of Day 25: “Azriel”

Elain twisted towards the death god, heartbeat speeding at the sight of him. Azriel’s shadows moved behind her, some peaking over her shoulders as if readying to strike, others caressing her lower back, tapping her fingers until she unfurled them.

Koschei tutted. “Enough of that.” He glanced to the shadowsinger as he said, “Come over here.”

Elain stilled, waiting for Azriel to start moving, but he remained chained and immobile. Cassian, who had blades on both of his hands and whose Siphons flared bright, also frowned in confusion when nothing happened, however his eyes remained full of hate.

Koschei blinked and raised an eyebrow. His gaze shifted between the shadows gathering behind Elain’s back, Azriel, and Elain. “Interesting.”

“What is?” Cassian challenged, voice quaking in fury.

Koschei tilted his head, examining her. “You’re a shadowsinger.”

Elain said nothing, revealed nothing with her face, putting on the mask Azriel usually donned. But her mind spun at the realization.

Could it be? She’d become a shadowsinger? That would explain why she could suddenly understand Azriel’s shadows.

A shadowsinger.

Koschei glanced between Azriel and her. “What an interesting turn of events.”

“You already said that,” Cassian spat.

Koschei smiled. “You’ll learn, Lord of Bastards, that the person with the most power can do and say whatever they want.”

And Elain watched Cassian go as still as a statue. As still as Azriel was beside her. Cassian’s arms lowered beside his body, still gripping those blades.

Attack! Attack! Attack! the shadows whispered in her ear.

Not yet, she ordered.

Koschei’s attention came back to her, his eyes glancing at the shadows, as if he had heard her exchange with them. Elain held his gaze when he focused on her.

“I had not planned on taking you, too.” Koschei shifted on his feet, as if preparing to leave. “But fate works in ways that even I can’t understand.” He laughed, a raspy sound that Elain hated. “And if it works in my favor, then who am I to question it?”

He turned around.

“You will let us go,” Elain called. “The three of us.”

Koschei’s back went ramrod straight. In the dim lighting, she could have sworn his skin went a little bit paler. He glanced over his shoulder at her, and the anger gleaming in his dark eyes made her take a step back. He marked that step with his eyes.

“How are you moving, trembling fawn?”

How am I moving? It took Elain a second to understand. When he had frozen Cassian, he had also tried to control Elain. She was supposed to be as still as the two Illyrian warriors, yet here she was still acting of her own will.

“Perhaps I’m a god, too.”

Koschei turned back to her. His eyes roamed her body, her face. They shifted towards the shadows that took up movement once more.

“What’s your business with me?”

“You know why I’m here. I already told you.” Elain forced herself to keep her chin up. Act as arrogant as he did. Like she was the person with the most power in this tent.

The noises from around the camp kept their normal rhythm. No one had been notified of their presence. Only Koschei. Elain guessed he could see through Azriel’s eyes —hear through his ears. Now was the perfect time to escape. It was now or never. Once the rest of the death god’s males found out of their presence... There were too many to fight at once. Especially with Cassian and Azriel unavailable.

But she couldn’t leave with them under Koschei’s grasp like that.

Koschei glanced at Azriel and Cassian. “If you must go, then I can let the general go with you. I have no need of him, though it would have been fun. The other I—”

“I said the three of us leave.” Elain tilted her head in bored contemplation. “Should I also point out who I mean by the three of us? Since you’re too dense to understand me.”

Koschei bared his teeth. “Do you think you can come to my dwelling and demand things of me?” He raised his hand towards Cassian. “You should have taken the general and left when I was feeling generous. Now I don’t so much.” He twisted his hand.

Cassian’s brow began to furrow and relax, furrow and relax, furrow and relax. A noise full of pain came out of him. He dropped his blades. Elain’s breath caught as his legs gave out and he fell to his knees. Blood began to pour out of his nose. Her heartbeat was a drum beating out of her chest when Cassian began to cough blood.

Her mind went to Nesta. How her sister would break down if Elain had to tell her Cassian was killed. Her sister would never forgive her for allowing this to happen, for provoking the death lord to do this. Her sister would go back to her self-destruction.

Elain startled at Cassian’s full gasps of air.

Azriel’s body began to tremble beside her, like he was fighting Koschei’s control on him. To help his brother.

Azriel and Rhys? They would hate Elain, too, for this. Feyre and Morrigan and Amren. They would all hate her.

Elain would hate herself.

Cassian with his easy smiles and winking and bating and teasing. Cassian with his playful arrogance and kindness and bravery.

Sister. He’d called her a sister.

And this was how she would pay him?

No.

Elain did not cry as she lifted her fist that she had kept hidden in the shadows and said, “Stop.”

Koschei looked at her, at the female who had commanded him with so much authority. “You will learn, Lord of Death, that the person with the most power can make others do as they please.”

Koschei’s face blanched at what she held in her hand.

His soul. That’s what Elain held in her hand. That’s why he couldn’t control her.

Elain had seen that onyx box in her vision. She had gone after it to that tent, the shadows distracting the males guarding it enough time to let her slip inside on silent feet. She had followed her instinct, some voice in her head whispering the way. The box had been locked by wards, but her magic had nudged here and there and it had opened for her. There were a couple of items inside the box, but the one that called to her was a golden egg.

What’s with this guy and birds? she had thought, recalling how he imprisoned women and females in bird forms. But it made sense, she supposed, that he placed his soul in the prettiest and sturdiest egg one of his prisoners laid. A cruel joke.

She had wanted to keep it a secret, that she had his soul. If she could have saved Azriel and left without Koschei knowing, Rhys and Feyre would have come up with a plan to beat him without Koschei preparing in whatever way he could.

She could have brought them Koschei’s weakness without the Lord being the wiser.

But she had to use this card. To save Cassian. To save Azriel.

She’d show her hand.

Koschei fixed his expression to one of triumph again, but it had been too late. She had seen his fear. “That won’t do anything.”

Cassian began to double over.

“Then nothing will happen if I drop this?” Elain extended her arm and made to throw the egg at her feet.

“No!” His arm lowered and Cassian clutched at his chest, breathing deeply, face contorted in pain and full of blood.

Elain held the egg tighter and lifted it again.

Her shoulders relaxed slightly when Cassian glared at the death god and spat blood at his feet. He reached for his fallen blades. His Siphons flared red once more and his wings twitched as the warrior stood on shaking knees. His breath remained labored, and there was a small glimmer of fear in his eyes, but the fury had all but diminish from his gaze.

Elain glanced to her side to find tears in Azriel’s cheeks. His heart was thundering. She placed her other hand on his back.

I’m here. We’re getting out.

Koschei did not avert his hateful eyes from Elain.

“Here’s what I want you to do, Koschei,” she began. “You’re going to let Azriel go, both from his shackles and from the grasp you have on his mind. You’re going to let us winnow out of this place, so undo your wards.” She threw him a pointed glance. “Silently. No one needs to know.”

“I can kill your shadowsinger within seconds,” he seethed.

“Granted, but then I’ll kill you.” She smiled, squeezing the egg until Koschei trembled. “And something tells me you value your life more than you do anyone else’s.”

A silence extended for a moment. Or at least, silence inside the tent. Outside she heard the snores and pacing of the others.

“I want that egg back,” he added.

Now Elain tutted. “You’re in no position to demand anything, Koschei. Remember who holds the power here. I’m being generous enough in letting you live.”

Koschei bared his teeth again. “Who are you?”

Elain smirked. “I am Elain Archeron. Cauldron blessed. Seer. Kingslayer,” she tilted her head. “And if you keep talking instead of doing what I told you to, soon I’ll add Godslayer to that list.”

Koschei lifted his chin. “If you kill me now, all the people I’ve imprisoned will stay cursed. He,” he nudged his chin towards Azriel, “will stay locked up for eternity.”

Azriel locked up again? Not an option.

Elain nodded. “Then we’ll meet again.”

Azriel fell forward, his shackles magically undone, and Cassian reached for him as Koschei answered, “We’ll meet again, brave fawn. And then,” he stood straighter, “I’ll make you pay.”

Elain glanced into Azriel’s eyes, no longer glassy but clear, his arm circled her waist. She held back the need to kiss him and touch him and cry in the crook of his neck, where she could take in his scent and reassure herself that he was alive and well.

She glanced back at Koschei as she willed the shadows to winnow the three of them outside this camp, back to the Night Court —where her family had agreed to return.

“If you ever go after one of my friends or family again, I won’t hesitate to end you.” She threw Koschei a last smirk before being swept away.

No one would harm those she loved without facing her might ever again.

[onceupona-chaos]

Elain's trauma + (another) lightsinger theory

(This theory is about Elain)

This post was supposed to be just about Elain's trauma, but I decided to use it to share with you one of my theories. So, buckled up, because this will be long!

Warning: This post will be a little about Elriel, but my focus is Elain. If that's not your cup of tea, be warned! Also, as usual, English is not my first language, so forgive for any mistakes. Be kind always!!

So... since I was reading ACOSF for the very first time I noticed how many times Elain's trauma was brought up, especially that time when the Cauldron kidnapped her. I strongly believe that we have enough textual evidence that points to the next book being about her, so I want to talk a little about that trauma and then share my theorie.

Childhood

I'm not going to talk much about it because there is this incredible post right here where the author did an amazing job. But I’ll briefly talk about it just to make sense.

If Nesta was raised to use her "maneuverings", her talents, her dance, Elain was not raised in the same way (not that was good for Nesta, I'm not saying that).

Elain was raised to look pretty, to please others, to not speak up, to get marry using her pretty face, to be a proper lady: a perfect doll.

So she acted like one.

It simply never occurred to her that she might be capable of getting her hands dirty.

Elain would put on a hat and gloves and kneel in the dirt, weeding. She acted like a purebred lady in every regard but that.

Her mother raised her like that until she was at least eleven years old. This is enough time for her to internalize how she should behave.

This is what SJM is trying to tell about Elain:

"I wonder if everyone has spent so long assuming Elain is sweet and innocent that she felt she had to be that way or else she'd disappoint you all"

(Again, check this post for more details, this is just a scratch in comparison)

How this childhood reflects on Elain

Strength:

So, Elain was raised to be passive.

I'm not trying to justify her neglect towards Feyre. Elain has flaws just like any other character. But there's a reason why Feyre and Nesta was filled with rage when they lived in the cottage, and Elain look at it in a different way:

"A shelter from a world that had possessed so little good, but she tried to find it anyway, even if it had seemed foolish and useless to me. She had looked at it that cottage with hope; I had looked at it with nothing but hatred. And I knew which one of us had been stronger."

Since Elain was raised to be passive, her strength is different from her sisters. Her strength comes from her heart, from her kindness. But mostly from her hope. The book tell us that:

"Elain had always been gentle and sweet—and I had considered it a different sort of strength. A better strength. To look at the hardness of the world and choose, over and over, to love, to be kind."

My point is: her strength is different, not weaker. She is a different type of character, one that a lot of women relate to. Her strength isn't brutal. Her strength is hope. In her book, she will look at an indescribable horrible situation that seems to have no way out and will choose not to despair.

Beauty

She ignored me, and saw Elain as barely more than a doll to dress up, but Nesta was hers.

Elain's mother saw her for her beauty and only that. Now look at this:

Elain had gone from lovely to devastatingly beautiful. Elain never seemed to realize it.

She was several years older, and I’d never done anything to provoke her hatred, but I think …”

“She was jealous of your beauty,” Amren said, an amused smile on her red lips.

Elain blushed. “Perhaps.”

In my opinion, Elain has been seen as beautiful and only beautiful her entire life. It's not that she doesn't realize it, but she doesn't want to be reduced to that.

“Pity you didn’t bring the other sister. I hear our little brother’s mate is quite the beauty"

"They say your sister Elain is the beauty."

"They." Elain's beauty is known across Prythian, Eris said that twice in the series. She is so beautiful, that it seems like this is the first thing everyone will say about her.

That's why she wishes to be seen:

"No one ever looked —not really.” A bramble of words. Her voice strained to a whisper. “He did. He saw me. He will not now."

She is described as the most beautiful among the sisters, and one of them is High Lady. So everyone looks at her. However, she wants more than that.

For her, it's vital to be seen.

She wants someone who loves her for who she is. That's why she hoped Graysen would still love her even after she turned Fae.

Trauma

Now that we understand what it means for Elain to be seen, to be loved, can we please stop reducing her trauma to a breakup?

She was: kidnapped from her bed, throw into the Cauldron (we saw what a nice experience that is), changed into something she feared, exposed to all the guards laugh at her and mated to a male who conspired to all of that happen.

Not only that: for months she was lost in her own visions. She didn't even know what was reality anymore:

“I think I was dreaming,” she murmured. “I think I’m always dreaming these days.”

"I hear her—her screaming. With rage. Utter rage…” She shuddered.

And when she was able to understand what she was, a Seer, and "wake up" from whatever "murky realm" she had been, the Wall came down. Which means she faced the Graysen.

Elain genuinely hoped he would love her for who she was despite being Fae. She looked at that situation with the same hope she used to look at the cottage. And how that turned out:

“You belong to him.”

“I belong to no one. But my heart belongs to you.”

Graysen’s face hardened. “I don’t want it.”

He would have been better off hitting her, that’s how deep the hurt in her eyes went.

And then she was kidnapped.

Elain is captured by the Cauldron

SJM used ACOSF to remind us of events that are going to be relevant for the next books and Elain's trauma was repeatedly brought up in ACOSF:

But Elain said, “I went into the Cauldron, too, you know. And it captured me. And yet somehow all you think of is what my trauma did to you.”

“Elain was right. We’ve become so focused on how her trauma impacted us that we forget she was the one who experienced it.”

(...) he understood that Elain had spoken true, claiming the trauma of that memory.

Now, look at how many times Elain being captured by the Cauldron came up.

Elain had been stolen. By Hybern. By the Cauldron, which had seen Nesta watching it and watched her in turn.

Do you not remember the Cauldron kidnapping you, bringing you into the heart of Hybern’s camp?

The Cauldron looked at her. And then took Elain.

“Bad things happened the last time. The Cauldron looked at me. And took Elain.

“I know. I helped rescue Elain, after all.” Az hadn’t so much as hesitated before going into the heart of Hybern’s war-camp.

He’d gone with Feyre into the heart of Hybern’s camp to save Elain—he knew the risk.

These are just a few examples to say: Sarah is setting up her next book by remind us again and again how deep her trauma is.

Now, how did the Cauldron kidnapped her in the first place?

Nesta was already moving, sprinting for where we’d heard that voice. Luring Elain out.

I knew how it had done it.

I’d dreamed of it.

Graysen standing on the edge of camp, calling to her, promising her love and healing.

Graysen promising love and healing: everything she had hope for.

Now, who rescued her?

From the shadows near the entrance to the tent, Azriel said, as if in answer to some unspoken debate, “I’m getting her back.”

Nesta slid her gaze to the shadowsinger. Azriel’s hazel eyes glowed golden in the shadows.

Nesta said, “Then you will die.”

Azriel only repeated, rage glazing that stare, “I’m getting her back.”

And we have this reaction:

Azriel gently removed the gag from her mouth. “Are you hurt?”

She shook her head, devouring the sight of him as if not quite believing it. “You came for me.” The shadowsinger only inclined his head.

I don't believe it's coincidence that the Cauldron used Graysen's image to lure Elain out, and Azriel was the one who got her back. (I'm dying to get into her head and see her feelings about all of this)

And ACOSF reminded us of this as well:

Azriel stiffened. "I know. I helped rescue Elain, after all.” Az hadn’t so much as hesitated before going into the heart of Hybern’s war-camp.

Repeatedly. We don't know how this characters felt at that moment, we don't have their POV's, but after ACOSF I do think this was a crucial moment for both of them: Elain and Azriel.

Lightsingers

“There are lightsingers: lovely, ethereal beings who will lure you, appearing as friendly faces when you are lost. Only when you’re in their arms will you see their true faces, and they aren’t fair at all. The horror of it is the last thing you see before they drown you in the bog. But they kill for sport, not food.”

"Hunt the kelpies or lightsingers without provocation and you might find yourself trapped here.”

When Cassian explains what is a lightsinger, the book has already remind us again and again the Cauldron took Elain.

We know Nesta fought a kelpie. But what if the reason why we didn't see a lightsinger is because Elain will be the one who will face one?

Lightsingers lure people, appearing as a friendly face: this is exactly what happened when Elain was captured by the Cauldron, when she saw Graysen. We know that was very traumatic for her - she told us that herself.

Elain already experienced what is to be lured, so if anyone could face a lightsinger and survive is her. She wouldn't make the same "mistake" twice.

Graysen standing on the edge of camp, calling to her, promising her love and healing.

There are lightsingers: lovely, ethereal beings who will lure you, appearing as friendly faces when you are lost.

Elain was lost, the last thread that connected her to her humanity had been cut off. The Cauldron used her love for Graysen, her deepest wishes, her hope for a future and turned it all against her.

But when a character is developed, they learn with their mistakes, they get stronger. What it was once a weakness might become their greatest strength, which is something very present in SJM books (The Nephelle Philosophy?) .

Elain's strength comes from her hope, she looks at the darkness of the world and sees the light. If the Cauldron used it once against her, maybe that hope would be precisely how she could break through whatever luring spells lightsinger cast.

There's a reason why SJM remind us again and again about that specific moment, which was without a doubt one of the most important ones between Elain and Azriel, and possibly because we are going to see Elain dealing with her struggles.

But what if there's more? What if that trauma would be the reason why Elain can face a lightsinger and survive?

What if what was once a weakness may become... her strength, her survival?

[pollenat]

ITZY and A moment of sadness

➛ Trigger warning: angst. The concept resolves around the reader going through a depressive phase and the members’ reactions to it.

Dark and provoking. Somehow, the world feels worse than immortal killers from cult classics. It’s much more relentless in its pursuit after your peace and it’s not even trying.

You wonder, have you always felt this way, or was there a time when the world didn’t seem as bleak as it does at this moment. Everything looks fruitless. What’s the reason for passing days? What about the changing seasons? How does one go on with a reason? The world does nothing and yet chooses that form of an attack on you. It’s effective.

A knock resonates. Jumping in place, because you were drowning in pain, until the sound, like a rope, pulled you towards the surface, the real world of now, you welcome it with a little bit of hesitation. Who? What? Why? Like a sleepwalker, you walk towards hallway, slow, terrified, blue. The anxiety raises, and you wonder whether it’s not too late to turn back. Pretend you’re not home. After all, there is no emergency to take care of, is there?

The knocking resonates once again, a stark contrast to the silence and calmness of your small apartment. It feels dead although you’re the most living creature that could ever inhabit the four walls. Not even a fly to join you. Just you and the terrorizing knocking on the front door.

A breath in, a breath out. You’re not sure about opening the door even when your hand catches the locking mechanism. The crunch of turning metal travels through a crack in your chest, like water does through split glass. There’s a silhouette outside, one that you instantly recognize as...

YEJI

Though you’re sure she will start scolding you any second now, a sigh breaks through the plush of her lips.

“(y/n)-” accompanies a soft smile of comfort.

Yeji isn’t mad, though you think she should be. Any other person would be furious at you for avoiding them. But not Yeji. She understands and offers her presence. Always. So in the end - you’re at fault here. For making her worried, hurting her by avoiding contact and being so thoughtless towards someone who’s still by your side. No matter how many may have left you, Yeji would never do such thing. The thought makes your eyes burn. All you had to do was tell her.

She doesn’t wait for you to speak, or cry your eyes out. Yeji’s arms open and lock you in a tight embrace. As she clings onto you, you’re pushed deeper inside the hallway. The sound of closing front door is just a sound. Yeji smells of familiarity and promise that things will be fine. Eventually. Perhaps, with her around it may seem so. Once she’s gone, the spell will break and you’ll return to the spiral of self-pity. It’s a wonder she hasn’t grown tired of you already.

“I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.” says Yeji. Her tightening embrace seems to be an answer to your similar motion.

Your fingers dig into the common material of her coat. It’s cold from the temperature outside. Her helix, leaning against the side of your head suffers the same fate. You were the reason she had to endure it - the cold. Guilt instantly fuels your imagination. You think of her frozen fingers, shaking teeth, teary eyes and itching skin - all of which you’re the reason for.

“Are you overthinking?” She waits a moment until, lying, you shake your head no. “Don’t ever think that I could be mad at you for being sad.”

Her statement is not just any reassurance. It’s her proving how much she cares about you. So much that she knows you’re on a self-guilt spree. Like always when feeling down.

“How-” You still want to ask, but the pain in your throat seems life-threatening.

Her hold weakens, so she can lean back and look at you properly. The avoidance of her gaze doesn’t discourage Yeji. As little as you want to show, her still smiling lips are pushing themselves into your view. Like magnets, they summon your eyes to appreciate the show. It doesn’t last long enough. She pouts, head nodding at somewhere behind you.

“Shh. I’ll make you something to drink, alright? I bought chocolate and other things. Chose the weirdest snacks I could find in the store-”

Yeji’s hands slip down your arms to lock on your fingers. You’re pulled along to kitchen, the usually irritating light of a lamp you hate, no longer as terrible. Frankly, it’s hard to pay attention to anything other than the young woman in front of you. Yeji is a bright star of good vibrations. Just a look at her and you’re feeling lighter, as if the sadness could be weighed and abandoned. You don’t need the chocolate-sized portion of dopamine. It won’t last, though you don’t plan on completely omitting it.

“Good thing I remembered to buy milk, right?” Yeji’s eyes almost close, unable to fight with her raising cheeks. “What would you do without my grocery shopping sense?”

She’s talkative, putting the day’s history into words. You’re listening, eager to catch onto every syllable, focus on something that’s worth your attention. Chocolates are small and last a single bite. But Yeji? She’s a lifetime of dopamine.

LIA

Before you can recognize the visitor, her hand lands on the door to push it farther. Jisoo has a solemn look on her face. She quickly passes you and closes the entrance, as if she was scared of something awaiting outside. The palms of her hands are flat against the door’s surface. Curtains of dark hair cover her profile, to keep you away from whatever her face may be painting.

You’re trapped in long minutes of uncomfortable silence, filled with thoughts of scary possibilities. Did you do something wrong? Maybe something happened to her? The reminder of many missed calls passes your mind, like an accusatory finger pointing at the main suspect. You want to ask her what’s going on, but words are too difficult to come by.

After what feels like forever, Jisoo turns to look at you. The solemnity falls, so a picture of worry can take its place. She looks as if guilt was chewing her ear off. As if she was the one with a string of bad choices following her.

“Sorry.” Her voice is small. “I was worried you’d- you’d close the door in my face.” A huff of disbelief follows. She seems amused by her own way of thinking.

Unsure how to tackle her behavior, you just nod in understanding. Lips feeling dry, you dare a look around the room you see on a daily basis. Just like you imagine yourself - it’s a picture of pure misery. Slightly embarrassed by the mess, you scramble to collect abandoned belongings. Otherwise Jisoo will surely scold you.

A jacket you had no strength to hide. Shoes you didn’t care for. A jumper you randomly abandoned. In the past they didn’t matter. Now, they’re an irritating distraction.

“What are you doing?” Jisoo catches the jumper’s sleeve.

“Cleaning.”

She clicks her tongue and pulls the material out of your hands. It’s neatly folded and placed on the nearest surface, so you’re no longer bothered by it. But the need to hide it in a closet raises in the place of irritation. You’re staring at the jumper, indifferent to Jisoo’s hard gaze.

“Seriously,” She steps in front of you, taking all of your sight for her. “don’t you think there are more important things than stress-cleaning?” Jisoo’s smile doesn’t reach her eyes.

Embarrassed, you attempt a sigh, but instead of frustration, it’s a sound of a broken heart. Distorted and miserable. Out of what exact reason? Who knows, because surely not you. One moment you were existing, the next one you were feeling guilty for breathing.

Jisoo’s right hand wipes your cheek, probably to get rid of a stray eyelash you haven’t noticed. It’s a kind reminder of the good things, you’d kill to get a hold of. To forget for a moment and focus on something else, other than your mental state. Like the jumper. You want to put it away. Out of sight, out of mind as they say.

“You ignored my texts, calls... Just a single word back would do.” Though you’re the one with dark clouds hanging over your head, Jisoo sounds like she’s in actual pain, all caused by your stubborn silence.

“I’m sorry. I just don- didn’t feel like talking to anyone.”

“And that’s fine. But always let me know you’re around, okay? No talking. Just a yes, or- I don’t know.”

Perhaps it’s the pressure of your terrified gaze. Perhaps the useless silence pushes her into action. Or, perhaps, it’s Jisoo’s own overpowering feelings that make her embrace your middle. She doesn’t look like someone who wants to let go and her tightening grip only proves the assumption. For the first time this eveing, her smile shines with honesty.

RYUJIN

She looks annoyed. The opening of your front door has her head falling back, a deep breath escaping, eyes closing. You watch her chin, somehow relieved it’s her, somehow more scared it’s her.

“I thought-”

Her raspy voice is terror-inducing. Under other circumstances, you’d love catching onto the rougher parts when she reaches the lows. But now? Now you’d rather tune it out so she doesn’t speak more, so she doesn’t get a chance to say something that may cut through your fragile shell.

“I was seriously worried.”

Without any other courses of action left to take, you open the door wider. It’s only polite to allow the guests in and you have no answer to her statement. But Ryujin doesn’t seem ready to step in, or even look at you. She’s facing the hallway’s wall, sorting out emotions that are a total mystery to you. There’s more to her state than serious worry.

“Why didn’t you answer the phone?” Her question isn’t a surprise. It’s a fact you want to push out of your awareness. Phones are scary. Answering questions is scary. Seeing irritated Ryujin is scary.

“Sorry-” You tell her, lost on words.

Her face finally turns towards you which you answer by looking down at your feet. You haven’t noticed how irritated the cold made your skin. White lines of drought cross your blueing skin tone. Toes drum against a dirty doormat.

“Just a text would be enough.” She says in a much softer tone. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

Though eager to, you don’t allow yourself a look at Ryujin. Who knows how much more heart break you can accept, even if the previous reasons weren’t directly caused by you. Is your head you, or is it a different being? These days, it rarely seems to be an ally, more an enemy.

Steps are taken towards you. Ryujin’s heavy boots stand next to your naked feet. You want to step back and let her inside, but hands catch your cheeks before you can move away. Chin is lifted up. You’re staring at Ryujin and she’s staring back. Into your soul, someone could think. But the thing is, you’re aware she must know now. Her sudden softness is enough of a proof. You’re fragile and Ryujin knows how to deal with characters in your state.

“Did something happen?” She comes closer, so now her warmth is shielding you from a draft.

Hesitation holds you silent for few long seconds that Ryujin bravely faces.

“No.”

“So nothing happened?”

“Nothing happened.”

“So you’re sad?”

A bite on your lower lip answers her. Ryujin nods, dropping her eyes. She doesn’t speak for a longer time, until cold wind’s blowing makes you shudder. At that, a guilty smile crosses her fingers and without turning away, Ryujin kicks the door closed.

“We’ll have to do something about that then.”

CHAERYEONG

A picture of pure worry. Chaeryeong looks like a puppy that has done something wrong and now feels guilty. But she did nothing to feel guilty of. You’re sure of that. As always, the fault is all yours. Why would she even choose to care for you? Obviously - aside from the kindness of her heart. And now, in a spot right next to the uselessness, you’re struck with guilt.

She wants to say something, but decides to search your face before speaking. Lips close, then press into a thin line. Her eyes drop down before looking at you again. You’re not sure how to answer her unclearly asked question. There’s no clear explanation to your state.

All wordless, you take a step to the side, allowing her inside. Chaeryeong hesitates only for a moment. She’s such a natural view, you’re weirded out by her being frozen in place, unresponsive to your motion. An invisible switch has to be turned on for the pieces to match. Her steps inside are small, anxious. Remind you of her first time at your flat, back when things were alien. But they’re not anymore. Chaeryeong knows everything about the four walls you inhabit, from the most comfortable spot on your couch, to where you hide socks. She’s seen it all. Your gloomy days are where the blank territory rests. Best couch spot won’t help with that and Chaeryeong knows it.

After closing the front door, you turn around to catch her facing you. Dark eyes hang under wrinkles of a strained forehead. For a moment you forget yourself. Fingers, as if having their own mindset, reach forward to flatten her skin. It’s soft and warm, unlike the rooms you’re closed in.

“Don’t do that, or it will stay that way.” Chaeryeong’s frown deepens for a second, but she smiles. You do as well, though the corners of your lips ache.

Her hand doesn’t swat yours away, like it tends to do with a little bit of a joking undertone. Instead, it weakly grabs your wrist to invite you into a hold. Her bright smile doesn’t falter like yours. Chaeryeong’s face remains an anchor, the last reminder of good feelings you’ve once possessed.

“Can we watch a movie?” Her question takes you by surprise. It’s careful, but also so outside of the range of possible topics, you’re not sure whether to be glad or doubtful.

“I mean- Sure?” The smile widens, though it seemed impossible a moment before.

You’re pulled straight on the couch, with no possibility of standing up in sight. Chaeryeong’s hands circle around your arm, her body coming as close as possible, making you wonder whether she has applied glue in-between your sides.

“Next time,” The TV clicks. “just text me.”

Though you’re basically glued to one another, she doesn’t dare even a stray look in your direction. Chaeryeong’s eyes are focused on the screen. You know she’s not watching the random episode of Family Court.

“Text you what?”

“You know what!”

Your question seems to offend her somehow. One of Chaeryeong’s hands slaps your abdomen, but frown is quick to disappear as she lays a cheek on your arm. Only now you notice the warmth she emits, like a human-shaped heater. Comforting, inviting, overtaking. You cannot resist the magnetic pull. Skin rests on her velvet-like hair. Maybe next time you will find the courage to text her, so the smell of her strawberry shampoo fills your senses and pushes everything wrong out.

YUNA

“Ah, you really couldn’t be bothered to have phone on you? Seriously, who does this now? We’re living in the XXIst century!” Yuna babbles on, eyes staring at you, but not really. She’s so taken by the monologue, your state passes her judgement unnoticed. Knowing her, the speech was in the works her entire way to your apartment. “And to think you usually never let it go out of your hand! But today, you just had to ignore me? What am I to you?”

“Hm?” Her eyes widen, a sign you read as I didn’t meant that last sentence. It was the heat of the moment and, frankly, you don’t care about words today.

Yuna doesn’t continue her rant. Your passiveness is much more interesting to her than the personal feeling of anger. A little dumbfounded, she finally takes her eyes off of you to stare at your front door. She may be lost in thought, but you realize it’s not good to keep the guest waiting outside. Weakly, the door is pushed wide open. Your feet take you back to the couch you occupied earlier.

It takes her a moment to gather thoughts before you hear her stepping inside and closing the door. Then she struggles with the fabrics. You haven’t noticed her current choice of shoes, but you imagine her pulling boots off of her feet. Yuna sighs in discomfort. The noise isn’t meant to be loud. It’s the silent apartment that takes it on a run through every nook and cranny.

A stray pillow occupies your fingers. Yuna walks inside the living room. Her hesitancy is obvious. She may be quiet, but the atmosphere is screaming. Another material is pulled, probably a scarf. Feet pad against naked floor. She stands next to you, staring at where you’re tormenting the poor pillow, before she dares to sit down. Yuna is not good with these things. You know they make her uncomfortable. That’s why you avoided involving her in the first place.

“Are you-” She jumps a little at the volume of her own voice. “Are you feeling alright?”

“I’ll be okay.” Then, so she doesn’t have to wonder, you add “Didn’t mean to worry you.”

“Well-” The paint comes off of the pillowcase’s zipper. “You should worry me with things. You know, when you’re feeling bad and all that- All that stuff.”

There’s an attempt at humor - a huff you don’t understand. Probably meant to portray her powerlessness. You’re aware there’s nothing Yuna hates more than the thought there’s nothing she can do. It’s an energy-consuming parasite that feeds on your anxiety and her inability. So the silence continues, stretched into long minutes. Every time she opens her mouth, nothing comes out of it. Every time you move a little, she jumps in her seat. As if your movement could hurt her.

“Really, you can go home. I’ll deal with- this.”

She doesn’t answer. Not initially After a moment of hesitation and analyzing your features, Yuna dares to scoot over, so your thighs are touching. The lack of sudden movement on your side gives her all the encouragement she needs. Arms are quick to embrace you. Their hold is tight, but maybe not tight enough. The thought isn’t voiced.

“But I don’t want to go home. I want to stay with you. Keep you company. I know I’m not that good with these things, but- I want to be better at it. So just tell me how can I help, or if you don’t want to talk, then I’m fine with not talking too!” Her passionate words land on the back of your neck in a series of rapid breaths. “Just- don’t push me away, alright?”

➛ pollenat’s list of headcanons

➛ pollenat’s list of shorts

➛ pollenat’s list of scenarios

[tallstars-rewrite]

Chapter 47

chapter list / previous / next

Heatherstar had given him permission to speak at the meeting, and told him what to be discreet about. Talltail wasn’t confident whether Cedarstar would accept his word, but maybe if Ratfang had managed to convince him of her own suspicions, there was a better chance. The large patrol cautiously approached the shadowy treeline before the Thunderpath. Talltail smelled them before he saw anything under the now thickly dark cover of night. They were indeed a patrol large enough to be a threat, lined up in front of the Thunderpath tunnel, and who knew how many more were hidden.

Cedarstar stepped forward, only his pale white belly fur and glinting yellow eyes visible in the shadows.

“I hope this will be brief,” he said in a gravelly voice. “Our situation seems simple from my end. The cleanest solution is ShadowClan will forgive and forget everything in exchange for extra territory rights as compensation.“

Heathertstar growled deep in her throat. Talltail’s flinched, feeling his confidence already slipping away. That’s not a great start to fair negotiations at all.

“Do not propose such an insulting thing as reasonable when you know very well it’s not. And I can tell you once more, my clan has done nothing to warrant your behavior this past season.” her neck fur flattened ever so slightly “If you proposed this meeting to actually give reason a chance, then I will tell you that I suspect I know why this has happened.”

“I’m always ready to listen to reason.” Cedarstar said coolly.

Talltail took a small step forward to explain what he had discovered, as Heatherstar allowed him. The deputy Stonetooth sat beside his leader, and Talltail felt his narrowed glare through his scarred and squinted eye.

“I have found evidence cats purposely disguised scents to make WindClan and ShadowClan suspect each other of trespassing and insult. There were...cats working outside the warrior code trying to pit our clans against each other for their own gain.”

Heatherstar told him it was for the best for him not to directly accuse ShadowClan cats of pushing the rogue’s actions, and remain vague about the culprits at first. Their loyalty and desire to save face may be too strong. She would bring it up herself if necessary.

“It wouldn’t be completely unheard of for other cats to want us to weaken each other before the harsh season starts.” A ShadowClan warrior muttered after several silent heart-beats.

 Talltail bit his tongue, wishing he could accuse Darkpaw by name.

 Cedarstar paused as if considering his thoughts, but he looked, strangely, not fully surprised. Talltail wondered if he already knew his young warriors were working behind his back or not. Would he deny it? Talltail really was risking a lot on Ratfang’s assurance that Cedarstar didn’t truly want this fight. Either way, he certainly wouldn't want to look like he was backing off too easily after coming this far.

Stonetooth growled. “Why would we take the word of a deserter? Are you not a rogue yourself?” 

“If this was a rogue, I would not have brought him, nor would I have let him speak.” Heatherstar said firmly. Talltail knew she was saving face in front of ShadowClan, but the defense warmed him all the same. 

“‘I left my clan to pursue the rogues that I thought had wronged us. That’s how I found out.” Talltail said. That was at least true enough 

“Even so, this doesn’t change the fact that WindClan broke clan law in the first place by hiring rogue mercenaries,” Stonetooth shot back.

Heatherstar glared back steadily. “We did no such thing. We had a peaceful private arrangement with a small band of loners whom we only offered medicine to, until you provoked them unjustly. Between us, I have been given information that suggests it seems you were the only one that sought their help for means of war. We know ShadowClan tried to explore our tunneling system, it is too late to deny that. One of my warriors was killed because of it.”

 “And one of ours is permanently injured from it.” Cedarstar spat. “We sought information from a rogue we reasonably assumed had ill intent. There’s no cause within clan law to have outsiders living on clan territory after all. But we did not make him attack.”

 “Perhaps not directly. And yet, the rogue could only have gone so far to set us at each other's throats with help from inside. Seeking to provoke an attack could easily be seen as ‘usage in times of war,’ could it not?”

Talltail held his breath while Cedarstar glared for a long tense moment, his lip curling slightly. “I have not confirmed any clan cats from my end acting on their own in this way, but I do know for certain that one of yours did! If he is WindClan again as you claim, then you are responsible for his past actions when some time ago, your runaway was caught trespassing and nearly half-blinded my deputy, and could have done much worse! That alone could be grounds for us to retaliate.” 

Stonetooth had not lost his eye after all, but it was perhaps not as good as it had once been. Talltail felt hot with shame and Heatherstar bristled furiously. Unfortunately, it was true. He’d almost forgotten about his furious desperate attack on the deputy when he accidentally crossed him and Raggedpelt. Talltail was going to pay for his rashness. Of course ShadowClan would use that to deflect the accusation.

Stonetooth was bristling beside his leader. “Yes, you have no business insulting our honor when we have only ever responded to threats. Any blood spilled will be justified, and we are within our rights to defend ourselves here and now when a warrior violently invades. What's more, you clearly were making plans to invade further through unprecedented means. These tunnels you have been hiding were meant for that, will you deny that claim?” Stonetooth looked like he would have gone on, but Cedarstar raised a tail to silence him.

Heatherstar did not step back. “ShadowClan began this by trying to push boundary lines without need or cause. That particular tunneling project never reached your territory and it never will. As your unwarranted trespassing discovered.” 

“I still think we are taking a lot on the word of a deserter.” Stonetooth glared daggers at Talltail. “How do we really know that all the stolen prey with WindClan scent markings on our land was because of this rogue you speak of? We had reports from several cats who say they saw WindClan with their own eyes.”

To Talltail’s surprise, a small ShadowClan apprentice made a barely audible squeaking sound. She looked afraid when eyes turned to her. She surely wasn’t supposed to be in this meeting. “Sorry...I-I was one of the ones who reported those signs, But...but it's possible we...misunderstood them. It could have been a rogue and not WindClan after all now that I think of it. We...We never saw them up close, it was a skinny cat after all.”

 Talltail recognized Tanglepaw, the apprentice he’d help save from the fox. He willed her to tell the truth about Darkpaw so he could back it up, but she didn’t continue. In ShadowClan’s warrior patrol present for the talk, he caught sight of Ashheart, who stiffened and glared daggers at the back of the apprentice.

Cedarstar shifted uncomfortably, his tail lashing at the interruption. His eyes flicked to Ashheart. “Do you think that as well?”

One apprentice's word was only so good. Ashheart looked at Talltail, then down at her paws and only said, “I’m...not sure, now that I think of it. We didn’t get a good enough look.”

What, is she afraid of telling the full truth!? Talltail thought furiously. He wondered if Tanglepaw was going to take the fall all by herself to prevent the scheme Darkpaw had set up. Darkpaw can get away with a lot, Ratfang had said. It wasn’t fair, but it was better than saying nothing at all. Talltail couldn’t be the one to convince them of treachery within their clan.

“The bottom line is, we can’t give that cat what they want,” Talltail said loudly. All eyes turned to him, and he hoped Heatherstar would forgive his boldness. “I know I acted wrongly, I accidentally crossed your territory alone and had no grounds to attack, and I intend to atone for it however I can. Likewise, whoever has tried to set us up, they shouldn’t be rewarded for seeking bloodshed. Isn’t that reasonable to agree on? Do we let cats who don’t obey the warrior code guide our claws?” 

Talltail met the ShadowClan leader's eyes steadily. He could deny everything, Talltail didn’t have physical proof for his claims after all. But he saw in the old leader's gaze that Cedarstar did know he was telling the truth. And Talltail hoped his narrowed gaze suggested that he knew exactly what had happened with ShadowClan’s rebellious young cats, even if Cedarstar didn’t want to admit it here.  The leader glared at him, but he seemed uncomfortable. Talltail had been through too much these past moons to flinch away. You must see now your medicine cat's suspicions have merit. You know you aren’t in the right to push this invasion any further. Maybe it was wishful thinking, but Cedarstar was still a clan leader, and for all the dreadful tales of ShadowClan there must be some hope that a sense of honor would shine through. If only he would allow that. Talltail looked to Heatherstar, desperate for her to be willing to give him an out to back off with his pride intact. Cedarstar was hesitant, his ears back. Perhaps all the two leaders needed was an opportunity to back away on equal terms. He didn’t think it was fair that his lashing out at Stonetooth was treated as an equal wrong to purposely trying to spiral their clans in a bloody war, but he was willing to take that hit if it would lead to a better outcome. Every cat present was rigid waiting for the leaders to speak, and Talltail swore he could feel the tension wafting off of the larger patrols of battle-ready warriors hiding somewhere out of sight on either side of the woodland strip.

 But right when he thought maybe, just maybe, things could be ok after all, he heard a caterwaul from further down ranks. Everyone bristled. Someone attacked, and he had no idea who it was. The tension in the air was so thick, anything could have set a cat off.

Heatherstar hissed “You gave the signal, didn’t you? I knew this talk was a pointless distraction!”

“I did no such thing!” Cedarstar spat.

Talltail’s stomach dropped, he didn’t hear the rest of their argument as a loud yowl split the air. He’d been too hopeful. The insults were real even if their cause was false. In the dark, he saw several cats chasing each other through the trees, Stonetooth was on his paws running down the line after them, snarling that he’d sort it out himself. From the hidden lines, Talltail saw a sleek brown shape start after the deputy, as Shrewclaw needed no further motive to take off. 

Talltail had no choice but to take off after the sprinting shape of Shrewclaw before he ruined everything, calling for him to wait while Heatherstar and Cedarstar snarled behind him. In the dark of night, Talltail saw feline shapes bristling in the undergrowth. He couldn’t see who they were, split off members of the battle patrols waiting and watching. Had some cats gotten too close to each other and lashed out? He heard confused snarling, saw flashing teeth, half-crouched warriors fox-lengths apart with eyes darting around in confusion. No one had been called to attack officially, and they were unsure of what to do. It was impossible to tell which side the yowling came from, or if a real fight had started or not.

A dark cat was tusseling over Hareflight, who was snapping at the little shape on his back. Hareflight would never have broken rank, this cat was just attacking on their own. Stonetooth barreled into the battle and they broke apart, but Stonetooth, still bristling and snarling, swiped at Hareflight’s whiskers as the senior warrior tried to back away. Talltail realized he’d lost sight of Shrewclaw until the furious tom was barreling past him. That swipe from Stonetooth was all the signal he needed. 

“Stop!” Talltail gasped, but Shrewclaw wasn’t listening, and had piled into the wiry gray warrior before the word had left his mouth.

Stonetooth kicked away from Shrewclaw. “I knew you lot couldn’t be trusted!” he snarled, spitting blood from a cut on his lip. Talltail tried to explain, but Stonetooth was lunging at him before he could open his jaws. Shrewclaw was ready before Talltail was. He was latched onto Stonetooth’s chest and knocking him backwards in a heartbeat. 

ShadowClan’s deputy being attacked was sure to catch attention. Talltail barely dodged a lunging ShadowClan warrior, who wheeled about on him again as soon as they landed. I’ve failed, this is all falling apart!

“You have to stop Shrewclaw, Heatherstar didn’t call for this!” he cried out.

If Shrewclaw heard him, he showed no sign of it. He wouldn’t stop until Stonetooth slipped in the dirt, writhing under Shrewclaw’s bite as jaws tore into his neck. Before Talltail could get closer to break them apart, the dark cat that had attacked first knocked him to the ground. It didn’t take long to realize who it was. 

“You're going to pay for ruining this for me!” the cat hissed. 

Darkpaw was going to start a fight whether their leaders wanted to or not, and he wasn’t going to wait around for Tanglepaw or any other cat to risk blaming him by name. He was wild and furious, and clearly had no better plan at all. Now he was just angry. Talltail kicked him back and sent him flying. Talltail was plenty angry too. Stonetooth and Shrewclaw tumbled down a gravely slope out of view, temporarily distracting Darkpaw long enough for Talltail to whack the apprentice and sending him reeling.

Talltail prepared to defend again, but it seemed that some cat else was blocking Darkpaw’s way, one of his lackeys that Talltail didn’t know by name. “Stonetooth looks bad, this isn’t going well, let's just get out of here while we can!” 

Talltail looked around wildly for Shrewclaw and Stonetooth, panic rising with every breath. Chaos had kicked up. Seeing their deputy in battle sent several ShadowClan warriors out of the undergrowth and the ruckus brought WindClan down to meet them. Sliding clumsily down the gravely slope, Talltail saw Stonetooth was up again and tearing at Shrewclaw as he came down. It was vicious and frenzied and there were bloody wounds around their necks. They're going to kill each other, Talltail realized. Shrewclaw was battered, almost swaying and painfully holding up a leg that he seemed to have landed on wrong, and blood ran down his chest. Any warrior should retreat in that state,  but he was seeing too much red to stay down. As Shrewclaw leaped, Stonetooth twisted around to meet him, red stained teeth barred. Talltail let out a furious yowl and caught Shrewclaw midair before he could come down on Stonetooth’s outstretched claws. Shrewclaw thudded to the ground and Talltail had to pin his foreleg to the ground as Shrewclaw, despite his injuries, tried to wrench himself free. They were outnumbered. If Stonetooth fell, he saw the warriors waiting to tear them apart in retaliation.

“Get--off!” Shrewclaw screeched

“You're going to get yourself killed! There was no call!”

 “I don’t care, I won’t let you take this from me now!” 

Shrewclaw kicked at him and wormed his way around Talltail as Stonetooth took a wobbly step forward. They’d barely met for a moment before Talltail thrust himself between them, wincing at the sting from two pairs of claws at once, but he wouldn’t let Stonetooth get at Shrewclaw again.

Talltail snarled, refusing to flinch away as he knocked Shrewclaw back again. Shrewclaw tried to shove him off but fell short, wheezing, spitting out blood. He was bleeding badly. So was his opponent. Stonetooth tried to scramble away but fell sideways and lay panting on the ground. Talltail stiffened, wondering if he really had been too late. Cedarstar and Heatherstar were finally there, rushing to the source of the clamor, both looking ready to leap into a fight if necessary. But the state of Stonetooth made Cedarstar stumble.

“Enough!” he yowled, his voice echoed around the trees as Cedarstar skidded to a stop over his deputy, who managed to sit upright but still couldn’t quite get to his paws, The leader turned snarling at the WindClan cats. His warriors had frozen, and WindClan hesitated, looking to their own leader, waiting for real instruction. 

In the dark, an angry pair of orange eyes stared wide at the heavily bleeding deputy and ducked away. Darkpaw was of course still watching. Talltail couldn’t help wondering if he was more upset about how much trouble he could get in if their deputy died then he was about the injury itself. Talltail felt his lip curl and he shook with fury, but held his tongue.

Cedarstar’s attention was dragged from his deputy to meet a white molly and a familiar grizzled gray shape. Ratfang and her mentor Sagewhisker were there among ShadowClans ranks.

“You shouldn’t be this far,” Cedarstar hissed quietly.

Their voices were hushed among the continuing warning snarls from warriors of both clans, Talltail could only just barely hear them.

“I came at blood scent. Look at him!” The pale medicine cat gestured to the limp deputy. “Is this sign enough for you? My apprentice was right. This night has been chaotic, cats lashing out without orders. This will never end here. It will burn us out. The signs were already clear to us, and are even more so now. We warned you against this.” Cedarstar gave his medicine cat a long look. He bristled, but the ShadowClan leader did not call for further attack. Please listen to your medicine cat! Talltail willed.

Ratfang stepped closer to place a paw at Stonetooth’s wounds. “Stonetooth was more strongly in favor of this fight then most. Now he may very well die for it.” She glanced at Shrewclaw with a hopeless look that made Talltail’s heart clench up. “This is enough blood, let there be no more. The stars are not shining favorably on this night.”

He gritted his teeth and stood, whipping around to where Heatherstar stood and the rest of ShadowClan was bristling and growling. 

“Do we want to end up no better than ThunderClan and RiverClan? Nearly every gathering, more reports of cats slain over the pile of rocks on their border! We’ve seen the damage it does to them!”

Cedarstar didn’t move, just stood staring at Stonetooth while Ratfang tried to help him.

Heatherstar spoke stiffly “My warrior speaks sense. I don’t want that kind of blood and rivalry to be my legacy as leader. Do you?”

“Damn the woods, then.” He heard the ShadowClan leader rasp. “I’m taking my deputy home.”

 He caught Ratfang’s eye briefly as she followed her clan, trailing Stonetooth’s body between the warriors that carried him. He might make it, but only if they hurried. Her gaze was somber and she only gave him the briefest of nods. It was the best I could do, he thought. 

Talltail didn’t have it in him to look back down at Shrewclaw, hearing his ragged gasps, his claws still tensed and fastened into Talltail’s legs. 

“You shouldn’t have stopped me--” he managed to spit. 

“Too bad.” Talltail spat back through gritted teeth.

 Hareflight had already bounded to his former apprentice's side. “Stars-” the old tom hissed as he pushed his muzzle under Shrewclaw, trying to get him up. Talltail stiffened as he saw Shrewclaw couldn’t stand on his own. Too much blood, was all he could think

The bloody warrior rasped to Hareflight “Sorry for ignoring you. But I’m not sorry enough to regret it.”

“Don’t try to talk right now,” Hareflight said sternly. His stoic voice was weak.

“Of course you're not sorry, you mouse-brain.” Talltail whispered. Of course Shrewclaw would have that resolve. Talltail rushed to help Hareflight, but despair was fighting it’s way up his throat. He’d seen for the first time in moons a glimmer of hope that the two of them could come to better terms after everything. There was a possibility for so many things. Talltail couldn’t have another reconciliation stolen from him. Stonetooth was not more important than that. He had promised Briarface, and he had promised Fallowspring. He couldn’t accept this loss. He wouldn’t. Shrewclaw could spit fury for the rest of their days at Talltail for taking this fight from him, but Talltail hadn’t come back to start breaking promises now.

Shrewclaw, you can’t die like this. I’m not letting you. He willed it, and focused on that will, as if it alone could stop his bleeding. But mere will had never worked for him before. As they limped back carrying Shrewclaw between them, Talltail was preparing himself for that old familiar jolt of pain, of hollowness, that came with loss. He focused all his senses on listening to Shrewclaw’s breathing, tensing with worry that each one would be his last. He didn’t hear Heatherstar’s words to the rest of the patrol, about marking borders, sending scouts to ensure they all left. None of it mattered. Only getting his clanmate home alive mattered. 

A worse battle had been avoided for now, but he knew in his heart it couldn’t last. He would face that pain. He would face hardship. That possibility was always waiting for him here. Briarface was already at their side before his brother was laid down in the medicine den. Talltail remained close by. Whatever pain would come from this, or from future battles, the only thing more painful than that reality of clan life was the thought of being too far away to help.

 After a long, agonizing night of waiting, Hawkehart and Briarface rushing for their supplies, Talltail released a breath as Shrewclaw, bloody and haggard, slowly, opened his eyes and glared deep into Talltail. 

“You know how important this was to me,” he hissed weakly, when no one else was close enough to hear.

 Talltail stared back, impassive. “I do,” he said quietly. “And I will not apologize for not letting you die today. No matter how angry you are for it.” He angrily gestured to Briarface, anxiously sorting cobweb, Fallowspring pushing her way through the crowd with her brother, waiting to see him. “They are more important than Stonetooth. You useless mouse-brain. And you’re going to have to deal with it.”

Shrewclaw said nothing more, but as Briarface leaned over him and Talltail was forced to back out of the den, he saw Shrewclaw let out a weak sigh as his brother paused his clumsy cobweb application long enough to press his forehead against Shrewclaw’s, exasperated and heavy with relief.

chapter list / previous / next

[szallejhscorner]

Long Live the King

The Human Heart - Part 12

3k words, @beewolfwrites @cheshiya @celestiacq @katkirishima

Hatter is dead. His lifeless body flaunted on a table because those pathetic morons wouldn’t believe he was dead if they couldn’t actually see him.

The moment Chishiya spots the bullet hole in the former leader’s chest, he knows it hasn’t been the game that killed Hatter. This was murder, and it has been planned all along. Some of the attendants seem surprised, mostly Arisu, whose face is a display of shock and disbelief. But most of them don’t seem to feel anything at all. Say what they want, but this doesn’t come unexpected.

And yet it only seems to be An questioning how exactly it has happened. Hatter’s game didn’t involve guns. There might not be a single player left to confirm that, but it’s obvious. If he had died in a game, his corpse would have been disposed by the game makers, which hasn’t been the case since the maintenance team found him outside of the game area.

It is satisfying to see that Chishiya has been right with more than just Hatter’s death. Not only has their sacred leader been murdered – five minutes into the reveal of his death, and the Beach is falling apart. Of course it’s the Militants refusing to accept Kuzuryuu as the next Number 1. Force will always be the greatest power, not intelligence or favor.

Hatter should have known that, since history has shown how things work again and again. Leaders rarely were given the chance to grow old. They were killed, not in battles but in their bedrooms, and the crowd would hail the new king a second after while a new plan was being made to kill this one as well.

Everyone wants to have power.

“Who agrees that Aguni should be the new leader?” Niragi doesn’t shout, but his voice echoes through the otherwise silent room. No one dares to talk. No one raises a hand.

As if someone like Aguni would care about the opinion of his subjects. Hatter might have been insane, but having Aguni as a new leader won’t favor anyone other than him and the Militants. They will destroy the Beach within a week, maybe even days, starting with Last Boss pointing the tip of his katana towards An’s throat. She raises her hand hesitantly, followed by Mira who is facing Niragi’s shotgun as well.

Hand after hand rises slowly, accompanied by the bitter taste of being killed otherwise, and Niragi turns to Chishiya, holding his gun as if it could solve every single problem.

“What about you? Are you looking down on us, Chishiya?”

In fact, he does. They’re nothing but children, trying to grab their favorite toys out of the hands of others. Wielding a weapon won’t help them rule this place, let alone survive every single game. All they see is power that doesn’t even really exist. Even Niragi as a Diamonds player is blinded by the promise of being feared by all those people.

“But you guys really are stupid.”

It takes a mere second for Niragi to close the space between them, hovering over Chishiya with the shotgun pointing to his chin. Chishiya can see the hate in his eyes, the fury. All of it just a mask to cover the vulnerability beneath.

“Those eyes of yours really piss me off”, Niragi almost spits, and he smells like sweat and dried blood. “It’s so condescending.”

Take away your weapon and you’ll be nothing but a frightened little boy. Why should Chishiya hide the way he thinks about the Militants? All of them are nothing but scrap. But there’s no reason to provoke Niragi more than necessary, since he won’t hesitate to pull the trigger. What a useless death that would be without even stealing the cards.

He raises both hands, mocking the Militant in front of him with both gesture and eyes. “I vote for Aguni to be the leader. Are you all right with losing me as a precious “yes” vote?” The fact alone of Niragi being a leader is laughable.

Said Militant doesn’t seem able to make out the full meaning of those words, and it is satisfying to watch him squint his eyes while he points the gun at Chishiya one last time and takes a step back. “Well, I hope you reflect on how you should act in the future.”

Idiot. Something like this isn’t going to happen again. At the end of this day, Chishiya will be gone, and the cards with him.

-

Timing is everything now. The plan is flawlessly unfolding inside his head, every piece of the puzzle fitting together now except one, but this last piece will soon be gathered as well thanks to Arisu.

With the succession ceremony done, Aguni will soon reveal Hatter’s death to the majority of the Beach. That’s the only-

Not paying much attention to his surroundings, Chishiya is slightly taken aback by the whirlwind throwing her arms around him all of a sudden. He doesn’t hold back a chuckle as he pats the back of his stubborn, her warmth not enough to start a hurricane, but it does light a decent fire. Chishiya has to admit that he will miss this, that he came to enjoy those little moments, but then he spots Kuina not far away. Although this might be the last time he’ll see the smaller woman still clutching to his embrace, he can’t allow himself any kind of distraction now so he turns to the dreadlocked woman instead.

“Kuina, I need you to come with me to the conference room. Arisu is already collecting Usagi, and we don’t have much time.”

His puppy seems more than disappointed, obviously not happy with still being excluded out of the plan, but she doesn’t try to follow them. She doesn’t know that Chishiya will be gone soon, and she still hopes there will be plenty of time for them to sit on his bed and talk about silly things and play card games.

It doesn’t matter; she will get over it somehow.

Chishiya is the first to arrive at their meeting point, since Kuina needed to take a side trip to the restroom, and he uses the opportunity to take out the notes stuck in his pocket. One of them is his stubborn’s name he has written down, but the other is something he doesn’t intend to keep for himself. If she really wants to find him once they’re out of the Borderlands, he won’t make it as easy for her as to simply give her a name or his address. She should be able to figure this out as well, and if she doesn’t… well, then it will be for the better.

He tucks the notes back into the pocket just in time when Kuina enters the room together with the other two. They all seem tensed up, but it is Usagi who eyes him with clear distrust. Clever girl.

“First, Arisu will infiltrate the royal suite”, Chishiya starts to explain once everyone has taken a seat. “Then he will search for the safe and steal all the playing cards inside.” It is unlikely that Arisu will find the actual safe, but he’s too naïve to consider that. Fascinating how such a smart person can be manipulated so easily.

“What about the passcode?” he asks instead, and Chishiya smirks, thinking back to the succession ceremony. While he hasn’t been able to see the content of the envelope, he has seen Aguni’s impression. More than enough for him to be sure.

“I have an idea of that.” Handing out the Walkie Talkies, Chishiya feels the doubting stares of Usagi. Inviting her into the plan hadn’t been his intention, but it seems that Arisu wouldn’t have followed the plan without her. As long as she doesn’t prevent her boyfriend from performing his role, it doesn’t matter. Niragi will take care of both of them eventually.

“This is too dangerous”, Usagi finally throws in, refusing to take her device at first. “If we’re discovered, we’ll be killed.” And she’s absolutely right about that.

But it seems unnecessary to worry about her, since Arisu tries to convince her all on his own. “This is the only way to change the current situation. Now that Hatter is dead and there’s no unity at the Beach, the time is right for this plan.”

It is cute, really. How that boy defends a plan without knowing that he’s the actual bait in it. No matter what Kuina says… no one could have been more perfect for this.

“No time to lose, so take up your positions. We’ll keep in touch through these”, Chishiya concludes and points at the small Walkie Talkie in his hand. Arisu is the first to get up, hugging Usagi and telling her everything will be all right before he heads to the royal suite. The women follow, but not without looking back to Chishiya. Usagi with doubt and suspicion, Kuina with unease. She clearly misses the stubborn one in this room, but probably she still has hope that her friend will wait for them once the cards have been gathered, and she also seems worried about Arisu’s role in all of this. It is her fault that she befriended all the pawns prepared to be sacrificed, not Chishiya’s.

The whole Beach has gathered in the lobby when Chishiya arrives at his position, able to overlook the whole scene from the railing of the second floor. It is easy for him to spot the face of his stubborn, staring at the pack of Executives and Militants with outright unease while Aguni reveals the newest changes to them.

“The new leader is making a speech in the lobby. All Executive members and the Militants are at the annex.” There’s no need to whisper, since the crowd on the main floor is making enough noise to cover him. And since all eyes are fixed on Aguni, it’s unlikely anyone will spot Chishiya in his hiding spot. Not that he intends to remain here long anyway. “We won’t get another chance like this. I’ll let you guys know if there are any changes. I’m counting on you, Arisu.”

In the silence that follows while Arisu is searching for the safe, Chishiya watches the crowd filling the whole area. Aguni treats them like flies, and that’s true for most of them. Born to die just like the miniscule insects that they are.

Finally, Arisu’s breathless voice sounds through the Walkie Talkie. “I found it. So, what’s the passcode?”

It didn’t take him that long after all, which makes it even more unlikely that this is the safe Chishiya is searching for.

“It’s 8022.”

“Did you see the contents of the letter?”

“No. But Aguni’s expression told me everything. That instant, his face looked dark – it was as if he was surprised and perplexed.” The Beach’s new leader has tried so hard to hide every spark of emotion, and he might have been able to fool everyone else. But not Chishiya. “I’m sure the contents must be empty.”

There’s still no doubt in Arisu’s voice, only curiosity. “Empty? Then what about the passcode you told me?”

Chishiya huffs, hoping that the time of explanations will be over soon. “The wax seal. It was embossed with the Boss’ ring, and it formed numbers. That was the code itself – it’s 8022.” Easy enough even for someone like Aguni to understand, and yet so subtle that not everyone will notice.

He’s saying the truth with the passcode, but what Arisu doesn’t know is that Chishiya has already started to move down the stairs towards Aguni. This is the part that he kept hidden from the others, even Kuina, for obvious reasons, but it’s probably the most important step of the whole plan.

“I wouldn’t want to be your enemy”, Arisu confesses, not noticing the sheer irony in his words. He’s not an enemy, rather a puppet whose strings are pulled easily in every wanted direction. If anything, Chishiya is his enemy. Not that he minds the slightest. Down in the crowd, he makes out his stubborn’s eyes fixing him with surprise right before he leans towards Aguni to initiate the next step.

He has compared his stubborn to a puppy multiple times, but facing Arisu as he realizes that he has been betrayed surpasses everything. Niragi is the first one to enter the royal suite, followed by Aguni and his minions before Chishiya steps inside as well.

The smug grin appearing on his face isn’t fake at all. How Arisu cowers in front of a small safe, distraught by the unnerving beeping noise indicating that the code has been wrong. That boy has been nothing but a toy, and he has thrown himself into it voluntarily without even questioning any of this.

Chances are high that he will die tonight, and the same might go for Usagi, who is just brought in my some of Aguni’s minions. It doesn’t even touch Chishiya the slightest, although the face of his stubborn appears on his mind, together with a feeling of relief. It won’t be easy for her now that Aguni has taken over the lead, but at least she’s not being killed or worse for treason. Every kick that the clever boy writhing on the ground receives is a reminder that she wouldn’t have been the right one for this, because it wouldn’t have been that easy to watch her instead of Arisu.

“You saved me, Chishiya”, Aguni states while turning around to him, “we caught them thanks to your perceptiveness.”

Moving his eyes off the blood-covered figure on the floor, Chishiya instead faces the new leader with a smirk. “No problem. It was what I should do.” What he wanted to do all along, hoping for a certain hint.

A hint that Aguni gives him without even being aware of it. Instead of following Niragi beating up the traitor, Aguni’s eyes move to the other side of the room. It is just a heartbeat, subtle enough to miss easily, and Chishiya probably wouldn’t have caught it if he didn’t study them in the exact right moment.

Those eyes fix on a lone painting decorating the wall, depicting a nondescript stag. It is just one of those images that can be found in every hotel room, worthless except their purpose to make the walls appear less empty. Only that this one is not just a painting, and the last missing piece clicks into place.

Finally.

-

Night is slowly falling when Chishiya enters his room one last time. The turmoil in the royal suite soon ebbed away with Niragi dragging the now unconscious Arisu somewhere else to properly take care of him, while some others hauled Usagi to the Militant’s room where she’d have to wait for his return. It will be a fun night for Niragi for sure. Not so much for the climber girl and her boyfriend.

Although that’s not Chishiya’s business; he has other important matters to focus on now. Kuina has already taken her place for the final infiltration of the royal suite – the successful one, this time. But there’s one more thing he has to do beforehand.

With Tokyo being full of free resources now, there’s no need to grab anything more from his room than the clothes he’s already wearing. There’s not much useful in here anyway except the makeshift weapons, but he’ll be able to make many more once he’s out of this mess.

So when he opens the door of his closet, the hoodie he pulls out is not meant for him. It is a plain white one and has become one of his favorites during the last weeks, and Chishiya slowly moves his hand over the soft fabric. Yes, this one will do.

He pulls out both notes, the one with his stubborn’s name written on it feeling surprisingly heavy suddenly. It’s the other note that disappears inside the pocket of the hoodie lying on the bed sheet, and Chishiya folds it together so he can carry it easily.

Knowing that her room is empty, Chishiya moves quickly across the corridor. There won’t be any goodbyes except this hoodie. No hugs, no explanations. She would ask questions, would try to make him stay or follow him. Something he can’t risk – not now.

He doesn’t knock and simply enters the dark hotel room, letting his gaze wander over the few personal belongings inside. There’s not much – a few clothes, books, half-eaten snacks, but no details that he can make out in the dim light coming from the hallway.

The plan has been easy: enter, drop the hoodie, leave and never come back again. But somehow his fingers won’t ease their grip around the fabric as if a part of him actually refuses to go. Instead, he ends up sitting down on the foot of the bed, thinking about the last time he has entered this room.

After the Spades game… after that kiss. Something that was never supposed to happen, considering what it has done to him. Leaving some kind of parting gift for a woman he’ll never see again because she will die in this world of death games.

Did he really end up feeling more for this stubborn than just his usually indifference?

The Walkie Talkie in his pocket comes to life with a crack. “Dammit, where are you, Chishiya? Didn’t you say we’re running out of time?”

It is Kuina’s voice that allows him to finally let go of the hoodie. How stupid to hold on to it anyway! Chishiya shakes his head to get rid of any thought not related to their plan and swiftly leaves the room, lifting the Walkie Talkie to his mouth.

“Almost there.”

And with that, he heads to the royal suite.

[witnessourescape]

On Omega's origins

I'm trying to make some posts on Omega so I don't lose track of what I think about the funny robot. :) What we know about Omega's planet:

It was in a war against the Dragonstar;

It considered Midgardsormr a threat;

It completely destroyed the Dragonstar;

It's presumably gone, having seen a Calamity.

I'll talk about each point. I believe there are already clues to what Omega's original planet is in the game.

1. It was in a war against the Dragonstar

Contrary to common belief, what happened in the Dragonstar was not that Omega alone randomly attacked it for no reason (or to get stronger) -- Omega and its planet were locked in an interplanetary war. We don't know why -- yet.

Midgardsormr: Foolish machine. What hast thou to show for all the years that have passed since the culmination of our war? Naught save thy continued existence. Hast thou no thought for what befalleth thy home star…?

2. It considered Midgardsormr a threat

Omega's objective was to kill Midgardsormr. Not to enslave, not to colonize the planet: to kill the Father of Dragons, paragon of wyrms, because it was a threat.

Omega: Prepare to face Midgardsormr--red-maned wyrm of the Dragonstar, and nemesis of my world.

3. It completely destroyed the Dragonstar.

"By thee and thine was my home laid waste". The Dragonstar as we see in Alphascape 2.0 seems devoid of life, aetherically unbalanced. If those are aether geysers, then something must have gone really wrong. Omega's planet didn't enslave the dragons or something like that -- they killed the Dragonstar itself.

4. It's presumably gone, having seen a Calamity.

Let's get back to this piece of dialogue.

Midgardsormr: Foolish machine. What hast thou to show for all the years that have passed since the culmination of our war? Naught save thy continued existence. Hast thou no thought for what befalleth thy home star…?

What did befell Omega's home star, after all? Why does Midgardsormr knows of it and why does he uses it to try to provoke Omega? Could it be related to their war? Could Midgardsormr have been responsible for Omega's planet's destruction?

The answer probably lies in From the Heavens, Final Omega's theme.

Our shadows lost in light, this life A fleeting kiss Hark! Temptation rings! Virtue slips through hands a-clenching wicked fruit Passion festers, black’ning sinless souls to root Sink’neath dark waters Drink deep, we suffer Drowning, drowning, drowning, drowning Irons sundered Paradise plundered Come welcome this Come welcome this Destiny Virtue slips through hands a-clenching wicked fruit Passion festers, black’ning sinless souls to root Sickles grate on heaven’s gate their fields ignored Seeking sinners deathlessly they reap discord As two become one Here ends this, our journey Never-ending, onward march! Witness our escape This our escape, this our escape This our escape, this our escape This our escape, this our ascension

From the Heavens tells the story of a society falling to hubris, temptation and sin, their paradise destroyed. Isn't that familiar?

Still on From the Heavens, it's strange that the first sentence is "our shadows lost in light": ascian means literally shadowless -- this is why the Heroes' Gauntlet set is called the Shadowless set. Then, "[sink] 'neath dark waters" is literally Amaurot's theme.

So, is there any other evidence Omega could be an Ancient machine?

Lots of them.

1. Omega and the Ascians got similar designs: both heavily use black and silver, and gold and purple as accents (Omega has a purple undertone and Final Omega has gold accents).

2. Omega and the Ascians share abilities: creation magicks and interdimensional travelling. It's not because they're both unsundered beings: I can't remember dragons having creation magicks or travelling interdimensionally. Midgardsormr enters Omega's rift in his Big form at the cost of his life energy. It isn't something that he does naturally and with ease.

3. Omega and the Ascians share a neighborhood at the Aetherial Rift, which is where ascians hide when they need to.

4. The Passionate Amaurotine NPC has weird dialogue about death-defying autonomous figures.

Passionate Amaurotine: Oh, did you want to ask me about my latest concept again? The autonomous figures I told you about before? They are utterly without feeling or fear, and will without hesitation or objection carry out their master's orders regardless of any injury or death they may suffer as a result. Truly magnificent, wouldn't you agree?

5. Both Amaurot the Dungeon and Omega quote the biblical Book of Revelation. This one may be the most important yet: the Final Days are akin to the christian Apocalypse as seen in the Book of Revelation. In the end of the Book of Revelation, Christ makes His Second Coming, saying:

12 Look, I am coming soon! My reward is with me, and I will give to each person according to what they have done. 13 I am the Alpha and the Omega, the First and the Last, the Beginning and the End.

Meanwhile, Final Omega's dialogue in O12SP2 is:

Final Omega: Experiment concluded. I am the Alpha. I am the Omega. Final Omega: <blip> <bleeeeeep> Witness...my coming... I bring...reward...and retribution...for all!

The dialogue in Japanese makes it even clearer that Omega is quoting Revelation 22:12 and Revelation 22:13. I'll make a post on it later. Why would the Ancients develop a war machine like Omega? Weren't them pacifists? Everybody is a pacifist until eldtrich abominations start banging at your door!

Research Report on the Akadaemia Anyder: High-ranking phantomologists have since been dispatched to afflicted areas, where they conducted the capture and transport of a single entity. This specimen, characterized by a disproportionately large maw, was dubbed “Archaeotania,” and investigations into its aetheric composition are ongoing. A theory posited by the esteemed Lahabrea suggests that the shape these fiendish beings assume is not random, but rather an amalgamation of the fears which lurk beneath our rational minds. As of this writing, researchers have begun pursuing methods by which potent guardians of deliberate design might be engendered to stand against this mounting threat.

Emet-Selch says Zodiark was summoned to rewrite the laws of the star because they went haywire with the creation magicks going wild, not to halt the monsters themselves. The Ancients also took time to develop the concept of Zodiark. Something must have been keeping the monsters at bay while the Convocation worked, and as we see in the Passionate Amaurotine NPC, there is some precedent that the Amaurotines could develop a death-defying autonomous figure ready to sacrifice itself for its masters if needed. How does the Dragonstar War enters the scenario, then? First, let's go back to Archaeotania. Archaeotania is a dragon.

It looks like a dragon-dinosaur mix, it attacks with Megaflare and Gigaflare, it has lots of Shinryu's -- who is a Midgardsormr-based primal -- attacks like Tidal Wave and Ice Boulder. Archaeotania, being one of the original fears that were birthed by creation magicks going haywire, must have been influenced by a dragon. Meanwhile, Omega ignores other primals on Hydaelyn but only bleeps and bloops when Primal Bahamut appears:

Magitek Terminal: Even with its stasis systems activated, Omega retained a measure of autonomy. Deprived of mobility, the weapon continued to scan the world around it, searching for a threat to engage. It was at the time of Bahamut's resurrection when Omega emitted a unique signal -- a signal which appeared to indicate the acquisition of a target -- and we first discovered that the machine had retained some degree of awareness.

So, for some reason, when Sophia, Zurvan and Sephirot appear, Omega ignores them: it only bleeps and bloops when Primal Bahamut is born. It could be that its aetherical signature is so similar to Midgardsormr's Omega thinks it got its original target. But it could be that Omega was built to hunt beings similar to Archaeotania: artificial, dragonlike and presumably drawing aether from the ambient like even Midgardsormr does. Now let's take a look at this dialogue in the lvl 50 The Rising Chorus quest:

Lucia: Last night, the dragon star burned with an intensity not seen in fifteen summers. Not since the Dravanians engaged the Empire in the Battle of Silvertear Skies. Urianger: "The northern sky doth burn full bright upon the wyrm lord's call. The red behemoth beckoneth, and flame consumeth all." Lucia: The old Coerthan rhyme, aye. The brighthening of the dragon star is said to accompany the roar of a great wyrm. The astrologians believe that it was Midgardsormr himself who cried out in this occasion.

So we know that the telepathic roar of a great wyrm can, from Hydaelyn, activate and make the Dragonstar shine bright in the sky. As the Dragonstar is a dead rock floating in space now, we can only imagine the roar messed with its aether enough to physically make it shine. Could the Sound be an echo of Midgardsormr's roar? Why would Midgardsormr roar? We still don't know. But Midgardsormr is in some kind a harbinger of doom. I'll make a post on it later. What could be the timeline? The [?]s are because I don't know when or the exact order it must have happened.

Midgardsormr, for some reason, roars.

The Ancient's planet gets destabilized, the Sound starts.

The Ancients get scared, leading to their creation magicks going haywire.

The Amaurotines capture Archaeotania and develop Omega to halt the monsters and to give the Convocation time to act.

Zodiark is summoned, rewriting the laws of the star.

Omega leaves for the Dragonstar.

Hydaelyn is summoned.

Midgardsormr flees from the Dragonstar.

[?] Hydaelyn sunders the planet.

[?] Hydaelyn calls upon Midgardsormr.

Omega, while hunting for Midgardsormr, loses both its homing coordinates and contact with its home star.

Omega crashes onto Hydaelyn and doesn't realize it's back home because it is lost and the planet is way different than it was when it left.

I don't like that even Omega and the Dragonstar would be "Ancients/Ascians again". That's okay. I get it. But it would explain a lot of things, such as: 1. Why would Hydaelyn accept Midgardsormr but ignore Omega? Because Hydaelyn saw an opportunity to neutralize the greatest threat to Herself, Midgardsormr, but recognizes Omega as native from the pre-sundering Planet so doesn't see anything wrong with letting a wayward child come back. Omega was wrong in trying to go back home: it was always home, but it doesn't realize it. 2. How would the Allagans have found Omega? It's very interesting, even Deus ex machina (hehe) like that the Allagans coincidentally found a super-advanced, ready-to-be-reverse-engineered, easily-turned-off machine that was the basis for their technological revolution that led to at least two calamities. But we know Emet-Selch was responsible for influencing the Allagan Empire. What if Emet-Selch, or even Lahabrea, or both, were working together on this? They would know Omega was back, how to activate it, how to work with its technology and, most important, how to turn it off so that Allag would never be threathened by it. Why wouldn't Emet-Selch talk about Omega, then? Because Omega is a symbol that his people weren't as perfect and pacifist as he wants to believe. The fact that his people could only be saved by a violent war machine, and not by their peaceful, elegant creation magicks and debate, must be abhorrent to Emet-Selch. This is why he must have chosen, like Mitron, to leave Omega to suffer at Allag's. In the end, Allag triumphed both against the Dragons -- the Ancient's planets nemeses in this scenario -- and against Omega -- the stain in the Ancient's peaceful history. Anyway, isn't Final Omega non-canon? Not exactly, not as I see it. For some reason, Alphascape Savage is the only Savage tier that isn't the Menestrel making things up: it's Omega itself that gives you the data it messed with. Final Omega is a form of Omega made by Omega. Is there anything else about this crazy theory? Both Omega's and the Ancient's planet's name have been mysteriously omitted. Omega physically cannot speak the name of its planet in any of Hydaelyn's languages, and Emet-Selch never gives us the original name of the planet. I think this is it. I'll keep updating this post and doing more posts as I think about more things about the robot. Thanks for reading.

[just-someone-who-likes-to-write]

Nuada Headcanons

(Requested by anonymous: Do you write for Abe from Hellboy as well? And can I request hc on how Nuada manages to let himself fall for a human reader? (F if you need a gender)

 (A/N): Sorry I don't write for them, I generally don't like writing for characters who already have a significate other. It doesn't feel right.

 Warning: Grammatical Error, slight angst, and talk of abuse if you narrowed your eyes.

 Word count: 1,584

 As a royalty, Nuada was surrounded by wealth and beauty since his birth, which made him unimpressed by it, focusing only on the person's character.

 That's why he hated humans because they had proven time and time again that they are shallow and greedy creatures.

 During his isolation, Nuada saw no redeeming quality for the humans, which fueled his desire to wipe them out of the face of the earth even further.

The time came when he had to return for the sake of his people and all other creatures that were forced to live in the dark.

He made himself known to not only the humans but also his people by killing the humans in the auction and stealing what was supposed to be rightfully his.

 After killing his father and taking the other piece Nuada needed to find his sister who he knew was going to the library in the Troll Market to retrieve.

He knew the keeper won't give him the map willingly so he decided to wait and out Mr.wink on the watch for her.

What Nuada didn't expect is while he was waiting underground is to get the news of a human being in the Troll market in poor disguise.

  He went to see it for himself and it wasn't hard to spot you, he recognized you almost immediately.

To avoid making a scene among other creatures, he swiftly without you noticing him pulled you away by your arm to a more private area ignoring all your struggles.

He finally found an empty ally where he threw you to the ground causing the vile you were wearing to slip and cover your head.

 "What the heck?!" you exclaimed angrily, yanking the vile off showing your uniform.

 "How did you manage to enter the Market, human?" Asked Nuada crossed arms as he blocked to only exist trapping you. "And with such a poor disguise no less."

 "That disguise was stupid." You said as you took a stand. "I'm not afraid of walking into the market just the way I am."

 "Naïve human, you would have been killed on site."

 "Maybe I will get lucky."

 "What is that?" he raised a brow.

 "You can either talk everyone to death or they'll be too distracted killing you to notice me."

 Your responses irritated him because no human even dared to meet his eyes let alone dare to answer him with such a sharp tongue.

 The fight between you and him was not challenging at all, for he was superior to you in the field of combat.

 The reason why your fight lasted so long is that he wanted to play with you.

 It was a long time since he fought a human with such skill and He, dare he say it, was enjoying the fight.

 The only reason you survived is that before he could give the finishing blow, small creatures came to him and told him of the death of his friend Mr. Wink.

 When he saw you outside the market with the killer of his friend and his treacherous sister, he pieced it together on how you managed to enter the market.

 He indeed has a connection with his sister, but it was also the symbol on your uniform that helped him figure out the location of HQ faster.

 He didn't know why but after he impaled Hellboy he decided to take you along with his sister.

 "Why did you take me?" You asked as you followed him in the desert. You didn't have a choice since he had tied your hand and was dragging you.

 "To make sure the humans won't follow us if they want you alive."

 That was what he would say but truthfully he wanted to keep you as a personal slave for when he finally takes his rightful place as a king.

 Even if he will wipe humanity from existence he wanted to keep you for himself, to break and enjoy.

 The trip was long so you would have to rest for a bit, but not in silence.

 You started to ask him questions about why he hated humans so badly and wanted to kill them.

 "Humans are a plague to this earth and need to be wiped out."

 "What did humans do so bad that caused you to hate them so much?" you asked, curiously. He hesitated at first but he answered.

 "If you must know, humans had stabbed us in the back when we gave them our trust, and proved their dishonesty again when they drove my people in the dark after promising to coexist."

 "How?"

 "What?"

 "How did they stab you in the back?"

 "… We should keep moving." He stated as he stood up forcing your and his sister to follow him. completely ignoring your question.

 He will not tell you until your relationship becomes stronger that his mother was killed by humans, after welcoming them into their clan.

 When reaching the place you started pleading for him to not unleash the Golden Army because the sight of them frightened you.

 He ignored you and his sister, who joined you in trying to make him stop, but one sentence you said planted doubt in his plan.

 "Please don't make us fade away!"

 He brushed the doubt away and continued with his plan, but he could not forget the look you had in your eyes as you spoke those words.

 When the showdown between him and Hellboy finally came he gave it his all but the doubt would come back every time he catches glimpse of your worried eyes.

 He was defeated and even if he never said it he blamed you for it.

 When he stood to stab Hellboy after he turned away, he stopped when you heard you screamed "No!" but it wasn't to him but his sister.

 When he saw the golden blade which you took away he understood immediately what was about to happen.

 Witnessing how his dear sister was willing to kill herself to stop him caused him to realize that he went too far.

 He faced his sister and fell on his knees and surrender, whispering an apology to her.

 When he got out he was welcomed by the B.P.R.D team who came forward to capture him.

 He was displeased by the rough treatment as they started to drag him to their vehicle, But he got unexpected help.

 "Hey!" you exclaimed as you block their way. "He surrendered and is willing to be imprisoned, which means you don't have to treat him as if he was resisting."

 "Y…Yes Ma'am." Said the agent as they took their hand of him to allow him to walk freely to the car with them just begin close enough to assure he does.

 Even though he was imprisoned underground, his days were never lonely.

 You and Nuala would visit him almost every day, it wasn't long until Nuala was distracted by her lover, so it was only you.

 You would talk to him as if he was your friend, it irritated him.

 He at first ignored you, then became passive-aggressive comments, it was a while until he finally started to talk to her casual, asking about your day, etc.

 He spent a full year in prison before he was finally let out deciding that his payment for his crimes would be by joining Hellboy's team and protect humans.

 During those missions, he would make sure to protect you, which was a subconscious act.

 During training hours he would train with you, with the excuse of wanting you to be a better fighter.

 Always provoking you by reminding you of their "fight" in the ally, enjoying the annoyed look that crossed your face every time.

 The moment he knew that your friendship became deeper is when you told him of your past life.

 He learned how you struggled greatly in your life, society suppressed and your family belittled you.

 "Humans are such wicked creatures." He mumbled bitterly.

 "Not all of them." You said. "It was also humans who made me keep going."

 He raised his brow at you, so you explained.

 "My Parents did make me feel that I wasn't enough, but my grandma was the one who made me feel loved, And I did get bullied in school, but my friends were the ones who defended me and stayed by me." You said with a smile. "There are indeed bad humans but there are a lot of good ones too, you probably just weren't looking in the right places."

 He didn't reply and just stared at your smile, speechless, trying his best to ignore the sudden hammering in his chest.

 Nuada doesn't know when, but at some point he noticed how irritated he becomes when someone gets close to you, especially the males.

 When he realized the possibility of harboring feelings for you, he started to avoid you.

 He refused to believe that he was in love with a human, even if that human was a much decent one than the rest of her kind.

 However, after months, which felt likes ages without you he decided that he had enough.

 He spent centuries in isolation, not needing others company, But now, he can't spend a full day without at least seeing you and your smile.

 When he finally returned to spend time with you again, he returned with the purpose of courting in hopes of having you by his side.

 You didn't need to know though… Not yet at least.

---

My second attempt of a Headcanon, I hope you guys like it!

[shoichee]

Lucky Bucket

Midorima x Reader

Word Count: 2686

Submission for @knb-kreations‘s All Hallows’ Eve event!

Prompt: black cat

»»—————　☼　—————««

Midorima hated Halloween.

Why would anyone celebrate the day that is especially infamous for terrible misfortune and ominous superstitions?

Scratch that—why in god’s name does October have to exist?

He swore that every step he took provoked different unsettling breezes that whispered various taunts of a series of unfortunate events for Cancers like him.

He even tried to convince Captain Miyaji to bail out of practice for the month out of fear for his “safety and wellbeing,” promising to practice in the sanctuary of his own backyard to compensate.

“What the fuck are you on about?” the said Captain glowered, his patience visibly thinning on his face. “If this is about your horoscopes again, I’m not hearing about that shit again. Winter Cup is around the corner, and you still think you’ll get special treatment just because you’re one of the Generation of Miracles?”

“Sh-shin-chan, I think this is the time for you to run—”

“Takao. This is none of your—”

“5 extra laps around the campus.”

---------

“You 1st-years are really pushing your luck, huh,” Kimura deadpanned, slightly huffing to catch his breath after doing the extra laps.

“Yeah, thanks a bunch, Shin-chan.”

“I knew it—the horoscopes predicted that the majority of the signs would experience subpar luck today, nanodayo.”

“IT WASN’T THE PREDICTIONS THAT LED US HERE, IT WAS YOU!”

“Absolute nonsense. Why would I intentionally wish ill luck onto my teammates?”

“...”

“...”

“Can I throw my family’s pineapples at him?”

“... Maybe it’ll be better for all of our sakes if you’re out of practices just for this month.”

“That’s what I tried to tell the Captain, Otsubo-san,” Midorima sighed, disregarding the stupefying stares his teammates were giving him. “But he would not hear me out.”

“You’re such an impossible person to deal with. Takao, how are you even friends with him?—”

“I am not friends with Takao.”

“Shin-chan is just like an onion with many layers, y’see?” Takao lightly chuckles, evident that he was still short of breath from the sprinting. “I mean if anything, I wonder what (y/n)-chan sees in him.”

“Th-that is none of your business!”

“Awwwww, is Shin-chan being shy?”

“Cease this foolishness at once!”

“Oh hi, (y/n)-chan!”

“Wha—?” At the speed of Aomine’s agility, Midorima whirled around… to see nobody. Right on cue, Takao starts to struggle to hold back an unfiltered guffaw, and his other teammates had their own poor efforts of suppressing their own snickers at his moment of gullibility.

Midorima could feel his veins about to burst at his temples.

“Takao.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry! It was too good to pass up!—oh? (y/n)—?”

“Are you daft? I’m not going to fall for that again, nanodayo.”

“Fall for who, me?”

At the sound of your voice taking on an irritatingly familiar teasing tone, Midorima reluctantly swerved his head to meet your eyes. He quickly turns his attention away back to Takao in front of him.

“Was this your game all along?” Midorima narrows his eyes.

“What? No! This one was a total accident!—ow!”

“Midomido,” you pouted, prying your boyfriend’s arms away from a dying point-guard. “I want your arms around me too, y’know?”

The entire basketball team is standing there aghast at what you just said in front of the ever-modest Midorima. Sure enough, he was ready to put Takao into a chokehold, and if one didn’t know better, they might think they were extremely close.

“...”

“Miiiiiiido,” you said, tilting your head to look up at his face. He was definitely red. “I want a hug.”

“... We’re going,” was all he said as he (rather harshly) tugged your hand to walk away from the team.

“Oi! Practice isn’t even over yet!”

“Leave poor Shin-chan be. Cut him some slack just this once.”

“Miyaji-san isn’t going to like this when he finds out Midorima isn’t at practice… isn’t he going to kill us all?”

“Easy… just don’t let him find out.”

“Don’t let me find out what.” Miyaji looms over with a threatening smile in a feeble attempt to hide his dark expression. No one needed to turn around to know it was their spartan captain. The immediate chills down their spines told them everything.

“Sh-shit! Run!”

---------

“Shin-chan!~ Shin-chan!~ Shin-chan!~” you called out to Midorima in a sing-song voice to get him to break his silence. You knew that his amount of patience wasn’t generous like his Teiko-manager Momoi’s, nor was he honest about his feelings like his ex-teammate Kuroko, but nonetheless, he had his own unique charm that you found extremely adoring. To tease that is.

Midorima stops walking abruptly and you softly walk into him from the back, amusedly noting that he still has your hand in a tight grip in his own despite his obvious embarrassment.

“What are you doing here, (y/n)?”

“What do you mean, ‘what am I doing?’” you said, ready to pull out your signature pouts again. “Have you forgotten that I was gonna bring you a bento box to you at practice? Like I usually do?”

Ah, that was right. You always made the time to drop off snacks and water in the middle of practice. He supposed that his fanatical fear of bad luck for the rest of October made him forget. While he’s not the forgetful type, some extreme things just make him feel completely out of sync with his mind. October was one of those occasions.

“... you don’t have to always do this, nanodayo.”

You giggled. That was just his way of saying: “Thank you, but I don’t feel like I deserve all of this.”

“If you really wanna thank me, kiss me on the lips every time we meet up! Even in public!”

“Wha—!” he sputters. “D-Don’t be ridiculous!”

“Half joking. But I want you to rely on me more. I don’t think of this as a burden or obligation. I want to take care of you. Because I want to. Because I love you, Midomido~”

“... Did you have to say the last part?”

“This time I’m not joking, if you didn’t know.”

A silence falls between the two of you before you teased him to break that silence.

“How long are you gonna hold my hand? Not that I’m complaining obviously, but this is way too out of character for you.”

“Sh-shut up,” he mumbled, his eyes downcast onto your linked hands. “I’m thinking, nanodayo.”

And you patiently stand there, relishing the warmth of his hand as you shamelessly drink in the sight of his sweaty form from practice. His hair was a slightly darker viridian from the perspiration, and miniscule droplets slid off his biceps, making him all the more tantalizing.

“... I want to ask you something.” He lets go of your hand and you reluctantly do the same.

“Eh?” You broke out of your admiring trance as you slowly made eye contact with him again. His piercing gaze, you noted, hadn’t changed at all even from the physical exhaustion.

“Could you…” he started, clearly struggling to get the appropriate words out of his tongue. “... bring me extra lucky items every day… just for this… month.” He didn’t even say it in the tone of a question, and his tense shoulders told you everything you needed to know.

Shy Midorima was too adorable.

“Of course!”

“J-just like that?! You’re not going to ask me why?”

“I know you just wanna be extra prepared, Midomido,” you grinned. “There’s nothing wrong with that.” At your words, he visibly relaxes.

“However…” Midorima perks his head up.

“My lucky items won’t be based off of the horoscopes… but they’ll be all still chosen to help you in some way.”

“... You’re not planning anything, are you?”

“Of course not! I just feel that I would be able to help you better if I was able to choose these on my own terms since I’m not so good at astrology stuff! Plus, I celebrated Halloween and know all the October superstitions since I was a wee kid… I’m an expert on this stuff, trust me!”

Midorima hesitates before he sighs. You knew that meant he gave in and was ready to accept this without a further objection.

He is going to try to rely on you after all, so he might as well start by believing your words.

“Mido! Look! Those cats have been around lately! Aren’t they so cute??”

Please don’t let it be what he think it is, please don’t let it be what he think it is—

You dash from Midorima’s side as you ditched him for the felines, making the extra effort to coo at them to coax them towards your direction. You don’t even notice the way Midorima has his back to you, stiff as a plank.

“Ne, I’ve always wanted to pet them but they’re so sneaky and elusi—Mido? What are you doing?” you turn away from the cats to peer over the petrified greenhead. A realization popped into your head. “… No way! You can’t be scared of a bunch of cats.”

Midorima quietly gulped to himself before he slowly cranked his neck to you… before he noticed the pair of black cats analyzing him behind you. Chills visibly wracked his body before he bolted behind the nearest wall.

“(y-y/n)! Get away from them, nanodayo!”

“No, dummy! Look, they’re so affectionate and cuddly!” Midorima shrinks back further in annoyance when he sees them rubbing themselves up against you and monopolizing all of your attention. While he would’ve just tugged you away to feel your touch again… the cats were a genuine problem.

He stiffly brings out his phone before dialing his right-hand man.

Ring…

Ring…

Ring…

“... Takao?”

Please leave a message for Takao Kazunari.

Fuck, how could he forget? He ditched today’s practice in the heat of embarrassment. They were probably at the gym ready to kill him tomorrow. He groaned before facepalming himself. Nothing seems to be going in his favor at all.

Damn it, it was all because of October.

He resignedly sighed as he put away his cell before you hopped to his side again.

“Wahhh, the cats just left,” you whined to him. “I really wanted to pet them more…” Before you reach out to try to hold his hand again, Midorima jumps 3 steps back.

“Stop right there. Not a step closer.”

“Wha? Why?!”

“Bad luck is all over you, and I will not have it be spread to me, nanodayo,” he explained as if it was the most obvious thing ever. “Wait right here. I’ll look for a lucky charm to repel the bad luck for you, (y/n).”

Had his superstitiousness really been that bad?

Half an hour passed before Midorima fully “sanitized” you with some type of water with a spray bottle and gave you a “special plushie” to ward off other misfortunes.

“Did you give me a cute stuffed toy because you felt bad for me?” you cooed at him.

“D-don’t get the wrong idea, nanodayo!” he vehemently denied. “The horoscopes said that this particular item was lucky for your sign today.”

“That’s so cute!” you giggled at him nonetheless, and you were immediately met with denying grumbles and half-shouts.

“Say, are you really scared of those cats?” you curiously turned to him.

“I am not scared,” Midorima said matter-of-factly. “They simply do not bring favorable luck.”

“... Right,” you dryly replied, but you decided to change the subject. “Do you ever see yourself ever prepared against the ‘bad luck’ to the point where you’ll never bat an eye at seeing them again?”

“If I work hard and take every opportunity I can, I don’t see why fate won’t give me a favorable outcome regardless.”

“You didn’t notice my spooky ‘bat’ pun, Mido!” you pouted at him.

“Wh-Wha—Stop that—Oi! Don’t tug on me, nanodayo!”

“I’ll see you off to your own house first, so you don’t have to go through the bad luck atmosphere here any longer, okay?”

Meanwhile in your mind, you were concocting up some ideas on how to boost his luck stat for the month…

---------

“Miiiiiiiiidohh!!” you sprinted to catch up to Midorima the next day, noticing how your boyfriend was eyeing warily at whatever you had in your hand. He wordlessly stops and turns to face you.

“I…” you heaved for air. “... have your… lucky item!” You held out a conspicuous, plastic pumpkin bucket, obviously meant to be used for trick-or-treating. He immediately had his guard up the moment he heard rattling coming from said bucket, but he reluctantly peered into it when you made the point of shoving the tacky orange container to his face.

… It was literally all the stereotypical lucky items he’d see in cartoons.

“Horseshoe… plastic dice toys… talismans?” he frowned. “... why are these papers misshapen 7’s and 8’s?”

“Ah… ehehe…” you sheepishly replied. “I may have fibbed up the cutting part just a bit because I was rushing…”

Midorima squints harder to try to discern the rest of the chaotic collection.

A random rabbit’s foot? He would assume it was faux… dirty pennies… dreamcatchers… acorns? Is that a smashed 4-leafed clover??

“... You said you had a lucky item. Singular noun,” he narrowed his eyes. “I was not aware that you garnered such a collection of multiple things in such a short time, nanodayo… unless you had these for a while now.”

“Yeah! Good catch, Midomido!” you grinned. “But it is a lucky item. It’s the bucket!”

“... I’m leaving.”

“No! Midomido!—Hear me out, I swear!” You tugged on his sleeve in a panic, and he heaved a sigh in response but nonetheless stayed in his spot.

“Okay so, any item that you put into this bucket… becomes lucky!” you explained with utmost seriousness. “Since these items are already known to be lucky, if you let it sit in the bucket, they become even luckier!”

Where the hell did you get this logic from?

“It also serves as your lucky item storage, so you can easily rummage out your lucky item for the day with total ease! Not to mention if you somehow run out of lucky items, you can just put any item into the bucket and it’ll turn lucky! You should totally…”

You’re rambling at this point, and while Midorima still cannot comprehend your flimsy logic, his eyes trained onto your bubbly face and your shining eyes, noting your most adorable smile you’d have when you were passionate about something.

… Maybe if you cared that much about his odd habits and went through such a huge extent for his sake, maybe the bucket isn’t such a bad thing. Maybe it’s lucky because you worked on this idea with love and care?

“Mido! Are you even listening?” you huffed. “Geez, I go through all of this for you and you won’t even listen! Hmpf!”

Midorima slipped out a small rare smile, and almost immediately, your angry face dissipated and was replaced by a faint blush.

“W-w-well, anyways!” you said. “Thank Takao too! He helped me put this bucket together last minute without letting out a single complaint!”

“Takao?”

“Oh! And one final, personal gift from me!” you said, ignoring his looks of confusion. You pulled something from your bag…

And it was a black-cat ear headband.

“Are you mocking me?”

“I would never, dummy!” you frowned. “I heard you say it many times during practice about how you have to know your enemies before you can defeat them!...

… What better way is there to know an enemy than to become them?”

Midorima’s smile was overtaken by the harshest frown you’ve seen in a while.

“This is Takao’s idea isn’t it?—where is he?”

“Nooooo! Midomido, come back! Let me put them on at least! Pretty please! Come on, put them on! I wanna hear you meow!—No, wait! Don’t leave me behind! I have so much fun plans for us on the actual day of Halloween! Don’t ruin the spirit, dummy!”

Needless to say, the real danger of his sanity (and his poor heart) was you.

Screw October—he has to learn how to be careful around your own devious tricks 24/7.

[gothamslittlejester]

SFW Alphabet with Phoenix!Joker and Ledger!Joker

Hello, I am not dead. I’m really sorry I haven’t posted in forever, so here’s a pretty long piece for both the clownbois to make up for it for you guys (hopefully,, aghhh). I hope my joker license has not been revoked lol, forgive me lovelies.

The characters will be written separately, but feel free to imagine them together if you wish! I just thought writing them both at once made for an interesting comparison. Phoenix!Joker will be referred to as Arthur, and Ledger!Joker as J. I didn’t do all the alphabet letters because some were repetitive, so here’s the ones I thought would make good headcannons!

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

Phoenix!Joker

· Out of the two, Arthur is considerably more affectionate. Being so deprived of love for so long, he doesn’t hesitate to absolutely smother you in affection 24/7, whether that be through kisses, long hugs and warm smiles, or more subtle actions like helping you clean around the house or washing your hair in the bath. He may be a killer clown, but he can’t help dotting on you every time you’re together.

· He also praises you any chance he gets, cooing in your ears how amazing you are and how much you mean to him. He wants you to feel loved in every way possible, both verbally and physically.

· His favorite way of showing affection is making you laugh or cheering you up whenever you’re down. Bad jokes? Cute magic tricks? Running your boss over with a truck? He knows the blues can come and go as they please and they can really affect your whole mood, so he makes sure to always bring some happiness in your life.

Ledger!Joker

· J shows his affection in much more subtle ways, although with time you find yourself picking up on them effortlessly. He may not always vocalize his affection, but there’s no denying his adoration for you.

· He’s very playful with you; tickle fights, wrestling matches, pinching your ass and ruffling your hair are all things you grow accustomed to, and they never fail to make you laugh. If you blush or squeak in response to his antics, J will think it’s the cutest and funniest thing in the world. He’ll only be more encouraged to get that response out of you next time, so good luck to you.

· At night, his displays of affection shift from playful to more protective and domineering. If he’s feeling suddenly possessive of you, he envelops you in a protective hug and pulls you into his chest. His side of the bed will always the one closest to the door in case of trouble.

· His affection is very physical, and will often be shown through actions. He’ll take care of any inconvenience you have- someone bother you, sweetheart? You never see them again.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

Phoenix!Joker

· Arthur will always be there for you, listening to you vent for hours, helping you with any little chore or problem you have and just chilling with you by the television for hours. He’s never had someone to confide in and care for him, and every understanding look and encouraging smile you give him is stored in a special place in his heart.

· Not only is he a great listener for you too, but his advice is never halfhearted. If you have a problem, or something you’re uncertain about, he’ll do his best to help you sort it out until you’re confident again. He’ll be there for you no matter what, because you’ll be there for him too.

Ledger!Joker

· Now, Having J as a friend is extremely chaotic and often leads to him dragging you away to join him on some illegal adventure at 3 in the morning. Are you gonna go rob a bank or go scare the elderly? Who knows, who cares! Just get dressed and join him!

· Philosophical conversations with J are incredible. He never dismisses your ideas or thoughts of the world, encouraging you to always speak your mind, filter free. There’s no need to hide from him, ever.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

Phoenix!Joker

·  When he cuddles you, Arthur feels like all his problems just melt away, and therefor will not let go of your body for hours. It’s therapeutic and heals his soul in a way that his medication never could.

· His little secret is that he loves it when he’s the little spoon, or just generally being cradled by you. Lying on top of your chest just to hear your heartbeat? Absolute heaven.

·  His favorite thing to do is to rub his nose in the crook of your neck and take a big breath, relishing in your scent. It makes him feel so safe and loved he could cry, and during bad days he probably has. Even after he turned into Joker, it would take a bulldozer to rip his grabby hands away from your warm body. Due to how frail and cold his body is, he’s not the epitome of a teddy bear, but the amount of love and comfort that radiate off of him is enough to make for that. It’s nothing a warm blanket can’t fix, and his kisses are the warmest all year round.

Ledger!Joker

· Now, J would never admit it, but he’s just as big of a cuddler as Arthur. I know, I know, controversial! But there is no way you can convince me that this man isn’t an attention seeking, touch starved, hug deprived needy little asshole. Having you wrap your arms around him in the middle of the night, melting into his body with a satisfied sigh, is cocaine to him. Feeling you playfully jump on his back and embrace him from behind makes J want to blow up the city for you. He’ll do it too, don’t tempt him.

· Only difference is, he much more prefers it when you initiate it- seeing you all needy and pouty for him just makes him so giddy. What’s that Y/N? You’re desperate for him? Well, I guess he can hold you in his arms, since he’s so generous...

· Of course, he’s not shy either, and will get his way if need be. If you sit more than 2 inches away from him on the couch you’re instantly pulled onto his lap, and don’t even think about falling asleep without being buried in his side. He wants to feel loved, dammit!

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

Phoenix!Joker

· Arthur’s kisses are soft and dotting, always gentle and loving. He often moans into the kiss and pulls you closer, never getting enough of you. They can be desperate and needy after a long day away from you, but they are generally very sweet and slow.

· He likes to press kisses all over your face and cheeks, liking the way you giggle as he peppers them all over you. He really cant get enough of you, and just the knowledge that he has someone in his life that enjoys being intimate with him leaves Arthur completely awed.

· He’ll take any sort of kiss from you without complaint, but his favorite is when you’re holding him from behind, either in bed or in the bath, and press a gentle one to his back. It makes him feel loved and safe, which he hadn’t felt in a long time.

Ledger!Joker

· When J kisses you, he truly does steal your breath away. All his passion, obsession and need for you are conveyed effortlessly with the way he moves against your mouth and wraps his arms around your body in a protective manner.

· Although oftentimes rough and sensual, his kisses can also be very teasing and playful. He’ll kiss your hand in a romantic manner just to see you blush and shake your head, or leave little hickeys down neck that he likes to kiss again later. He’s also not opposed to licking you, so watch out for that.

· He’ll never admit it, but he loves it when you lean up to kiss his cheek. It’s such a sweet and gentle action, something he’s not accustomed to whatsoever, and it leaves him feeling very warm and protective inside. Especially when your lips brush against his scars- knowing you love them and want to show them affection makes J want to kill for you.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

Phoenix!Joker

·Arthur loves being there for children, especially the less fortunate ones. Despite how crazy and ruthless Joker can be, he would never even dream of laying a hand on a child.

· There are times when he remembers the joy that his old persona “Carnival” could bring to the sad young faces of all those kids, and it’s enough to make him grimace and reminisce on what he lost.

· He’d never expect to start a family with you while he’s out being criminal menace as a full time job, but there are times where he allows his imagination to run wild, picturing a world with a better life for the both of you, his children playing in the garden while you grow old together.

Ledger!Joker

· J... J is a bully. He doesn’t have the patience whatsoever to deal with children at all, and overall just finds their incessant questions mind-numbing. They’re not even good questions- questions that provoke a philosophical debate or reconsideration of our purpose in the universe for example- just dumb ones that can be googled in a second. Why is the sky blue? Give him a break.

· Now, He wouldn’t go out of his way to single out a child and brutally kill them- he wants his victims to fully understand their doom, and kids don’t have that level of comprehension yet- but if one of those smug little shits happened to be carrying around a balloon, ho ho! It’s getting popped on sight. You know that saying “steeling lollipops from babies?” Yeah, that’s J.

· May not be a big fan of kids, but if you ever need a top quality dead baby joke, he’s your guy!

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

Phoenix!Joker

· Having had so many jobs in his life, Arthur has adapted to waking up in the early morning with ease.

· If he has to go somewhere, he’ll quietly tiptoe around the apartment as he gets ready, careful not wake you up as he gets dressed in his red suit and applies his makeup. He’ll place a gentle kiss to your temple just before he has to leave, staring adoringly at your peaceful face for a few minutes.

· If he has nothing planned, Arthur will just lay in bed until you wake up naturally, enjoying the feeling on your arm body pressed against him.

Ledger!Joker

· J is a drama queen. Being mostly nocturnal, J doesn’t even get out of his REM sleep cycle until like 3 pm at the earliest.

· On those days where he gets woken up at, god forbid, 9 am, he’ll be so groggy and grumpy that not even coffee can save him.

· Alarm wakes him up? That’s now enemy number one. Someone outside being loud? If he had the energy, they’d be dead. And don’t think you’re getting out of bed without him either. He’ll pull you back and wrap all his limbs around you like a snake, snuggling into you so you can’t leave.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

Phoenix!Joker

· Arthur only really gets angry when someone attacks him or tries to make him feel worthless. As Joker, he’s definitely gained quite a bit of confidence, and will start a fight with strangers for the smallest of reasons, but they rarely actually make him angry.

· His patience in general is actually quite remarkable. Most of his schemes and plots take quite a while to plan out, and although he does rely on luck here and there, he puts in quite a few hours at a time to flesh out the details.

· He’ll wait as long as he needs to get what he wants. For example, it’s not like he shy’s away from stalking people, and that takes quite a bit of resilience and patience.

Ledger!Joker

· J is... an emotional man. An open book. He almost never gets angry at you- unless you do something stupid like put yourself in harms way- but everyone else? All it takes is very trivial inconveniences to get him riled up and ready to murder some poor soul on sight.

·  He’ll be patient for a while if he needs to work on some elaborately villainous scheme, but after a few days of obsessing over the schematics he’ll start to get antsy and bored. He’s a man of action, who has the time for all this planning?

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

Phoenix!Joker

· Arthur would do his very best to make dates and anniversaries special. Dinner from your favorite restaurant, long walks by the place you first met, movie nights under a warm fort with intermediate pillow fights; Arthur will always find something that will put a smile on your face.

· He may not have that much money to begin with, but after adapting into his joker persona, a little bit of petty theft is nothing too unacceptable. Especially since he can use the extra cash to treat his lover to the most lavish things.

Ledger!Joker

· J would absolutely spoil you. Unfortunately due to his “job”, he has to leave you for hours or even days at a time to do his business, and he knows you tend to feel lonely in those times. So for him, date night is about you. And he’ll be damned if you don’t get the best present, meal and clown in Gotham all to yourself.

·  You want your favorite snack? He’ll get you a bucket-full.

· You want that new dress you saw at the mall, but can’t afford it? Neither can he! Join him for some late-night theft and he’ll grab the garment just for you.

· You want to spend the whole night tucked away in his arms as he cuddles you for hours? “Come to daddy~”

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

Phoenix!Joker

· Arthur sometimes forgets to eat, a habit that scares you. You don’t mean to nag, but you just can’t help it when you see how thin and weak Arthur becomes after barely eating anything.

· You know he doesn’t do it on purpose, and you never hold it against him, but it does scare you when you see how weak and exhausted he gets. You make sure to always fill the cabinets with snacks and get him to eat dinner whenever he’s home, but who knows if he eats while he’s out causing panic in Gotham.

· The smoking is also a bit of an issue, but you’d rather make sure your clown is well fed before you tackle this other issue.

Ledger!Joker

· J’s teeth can be... very much a turnoff sometimes. Stained to hell with a coffee addiction and lack of hygiene, it made kissing him an experience at first.

· He soon began trying to make himself more dapper and charming just for his little one (yes you) once his need for you grew, but sometimes he just forgets. He knew his hygiene wasn’t his best quality, and he often smelled like dried blood and gasoline, so he makes sure to take a shower when he can. Plus, he figured quite quickly that you like the smell of his cologne…

· You can’t be too mad though, not with a smile so bright and yellow it matches the sun!

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

Phoenix!Joker

· For Arthur, yes. When you finally admitted your feelings for him, he knew you were the first and last person who will ever give his life meaning. He would rip out his lungs if you asked- just if it meant seeing you another day.

· Leaving him would break his soul and put him in such a dark, black space that not even Joker’s red suit would have color there.

· It’s not the healthiest, and he doesn’t want to scare you away, but his obsession and need for you will never die down. He loves you, and you really do make him whole.

Ledger!Joker

· For J, his feelings aren’t that far off from Arthur’s. As his obsession with you grows, so does his adoration and glee. Everyday he finds new quirks and traits of yours that he likes, and everyday he begins to expect them, to crave them, to need them.

· He’ll find out what you like to do, what your favorite things are, what makes you truly and utterly happy, and he’ll store them in his memory to spoil you later.

· J’s love is absolutely obsessive and possessive, like a child with a doll he refuses to share even for a second, but that’s all he knows. He’ll never hurt you or lay his hands on you, but his love is nothing short of mad.

·  Leaving him is not an option. Ever. He’ll do anything to ensure that you stay right in his line of sight, and putting you in a pretty glass cage is not beyond him. You make him happy, and whole- you complete him- so why would he ever throw that away?