#and. hate to be caught in the collateral. or like. the subject of it.

[moe-broey]

My mental illenss. Cured 👍

[yanderederee]

Collateral

yandere!mitsuya takashi x crush!reader

tw: stalking, obsession, threatening remarks, cursing, gaslighting, your normal yan things♡

I’ m not too proud of this piece, but I can’t bring myself to discard. So, here it is if you like it.I also planned to add more friction and more stalking bits but :( I thought it ended on a cute note and didn’t have the heart to keep going. Enjoy what you can♡

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

You had been on Mitsuya’s radar for a long long time now.

Ever since grade school, you both ran with different crowds, so it was hard to get close to you. For years, Takashi has watched you from afar. He knows more about you than anyone, he would bet.

He knew what foods you prefer, which foods you hated, and how you like them seasoned. He knew your favorite shows, he watched them all. Which character troupes you fall for (even knew that ‘Big brother type” guys were your thing), your love language, and how you choose to spend that love. he even keeps track of your monthlies … He knew your size in clothing, down to the specific measurements. Don’t ask how. He knew the shampoo you used, how often you showered—- but still, it was never the right chance to actually talk to you.

Mitsuya Takashi was a fool.

He told himself this every, single, day. He was a fool for not befriending you sooner, before you grew into a relationship with some idiot. It made his blood absolutely Boil.

Mitsuya Takashi fucking hated your boyfriend.

Mitsuya Takashi hated your boyfriend more than absolutely anything. At first, he assumes is was a little crush. A fling even, between you two. I mean, he was an obvious dope. No good qualities about him and it was obvious that as time went on, you wanted less and less involvement with the relationship.

It was also obvious you were scared to leave.

He was furious when he would see the two of you holding hands when you’d walk to school, or go on a date. He wasn’t mad at you, you only craved attention. And it was only fair that you should be admired. But he would damn anyone who dared to take you away from him.

It took time, but Mitsuya found a way to control his rage when we witnessed the two of you together. He had been patient for so long, he could wait for this stupid fling to pass.

It was weird though. Mitsuya really did know everything about you. He could tell when you grew bored of a subject in class, he could tell when you lose interest in a series after it became mundane, he knew when you would start to wander. And he could see it, clear as day on your face.

You were becoming more and more impatient, the longer your relationship went on. Of corse he didn’t know all the details, but he did know that you weren’t into it anymore. He knew you were strong enough to break up with the fool anytime you wanted. So why didn’t you?

That thought kept tripping Takashi up for a few days. He too was growing impatient. What was taking you so long to drop the sack of shit?

He simply couldn’t understand. Until one day, you came in with a look he had never. Not once. Seen on your face before.

Fear.

Alarms start to blast in his ears. What did you need to be scared of? Why were you looking over your shoulder like you were avoiding someone? Like you were trying to avoid someone. Like someone was following you.

You’d never caught Takashi stalking you, even an after all these years. He was good at what he did. So this was all the more concerning to him.

By now, you two were older and it was easier to talk to people outside of your group troupe. But he still couldn’t tell if now was the best time to try threading himself into your life. He weighed the options over and over.

There’s nothing to lose, he concluded. Worst case scenario you ignored his friendly advances. Sure, it was better for you to not even know who he was than for you to consider him a creeper, but he was determined.

Mitsuya took note of the times you were and weren’t around the parasitic form that loomed over you, and decided during lunch would be the best opportunity.

“Ah.. um, y/n, right?” Takashi called out to you, gently. You turned, full attention to his lilac gaze. “Yeah.. um… Mitsuba, right?” You asked with a kind smile. A tinge of pain hit him, but he recovered with a playful laugh. “Close, Mitsuya. Mitsuya Takashi.” He introduced himself with a casual bow. You did the same, and waited for him to continue his inquiry.

“Say… you like Tokyo Mew Mew, right?” He asked. He knew you were into it, you had a cute little Pudding* figure dangling from your school bag. It was basically public knowledge. You blushed at his question. It was a bit childish, and being into anime at this time was target enough for bullying. And Mitsuya Takashi looked like a bully.

“I guess…” you muttered, looking away. “Hm.. my little sisters are really into it, you see…” he mentioned, taking in your figure this close nearly made his heart beat out of his chest. He could actually smell you. Touch you, if he was so daring.

“Well, I mean, they really want to see the new movie that’s coming out. I don’t really know anything about it,” he lied. “They said they’re too embarrassed to go with me, and my mom’s too busy with work to take them..” he rubbed the back of his head as though he was about to ask something of you.

Unsure of how to respond to this complete stranger, you shift your gaze between your fiddling hands and his chin, unable to meet his eye.

You knew better than to do that.

“So I figured since you like it, yo-“ before he could fulfill his master plan, you paused him from talking further by placing your hand up gently.

“I’m sorry… I have to go…” you bow, your gaze shifting between something else entirely, and your fiddling fingers.

He could read your face as clear as glass: you were uncomfortable.

Scared.

Mitsuya narrowed his eyes, testing to see if he could tell where your gaze was wondering to. He couldn’t possibly scare you that much, could he?

“Oh, right… um, well, here,” he said sheepishly. “You can still have the ticket, I don’t think I’ll see it on my own. Consider it an apology for taking up your time.” He gave his best charming smile, pushing the movie ticket into your hands before you could refuse. Oh god, he almost gasped at the feel of your soft hands…

Your hands were warm, from all their fiddling. A little clammy, given your nerves. But so soft. Your hands were so soft and he didn’t want to let go. This was definitely a test of his willpower. But the touch lasted less than two seconds, before he traced his finger tips against the back of your nail beds to release you.

Immediately though, as though his touch was painful, your eyes widened like saucers. That same scared look took over, and your gaze again drifted. He pretended not to notice, instead turning on his heal to follow your gaze. “See ya,”

Making his exit, he followed your gaze to a sickening figure that shadowed the hall. The bastard himself; your boyfriend. Mitsuya knew how to read the way he was looking at you. The way he was glaring at you. At you, Mitsuya seethed. He’d expected to see the son of a bitch’s glare directed at him, if anyone.

That glare.

Takashi had to physically take a breath to hold back the blooming hate in his chest.

How Dare he look at you like that?

Mitsuya reminded himself of his surroundings after someone called his name, and suddenly everything was back to full motion. He hadn’t realized how blinded he was just a moment ago.

Still. The gears in his head were processing full throttle. What was he glaring so disgusted about? Why did you force a smile and apologize so sincerely to him? When you had done nothing wrong, what was he obviously blaming you for? And why was it that in one of the hottest days the week forecasted, you had on your long sleeve uniform top? You almost stood out amongst the school of sweaty teenagers.

Slowly each hint lined up perfectly, but still no evidence. There needed to be proof. He couldn’t just kill someone without good reason—-

well, he could, and he Definitely Would.

In fact, he might.

That look he gave you was reason enough.

.

Despite what one might think, Mitsuya Takashi was a gentleman. He truly loved you. Fully and unconditionally. He’d walked you home from school practically every day. Every day he could, revolving around his sisters and gang, of course.

He could mostly only check on you when you were sleeping, and would leave just after. He never spied on you while changing. Takashi wanted to wait for that.

His heart couldn’t take it, he decided a long time ago. But that was a long time ago.

A lot was taking up his attention these days, though. Toman’s been having a lot more challengers, and Luna was just starting to get into harder mathematics. And Takashi was nothing short of a team player. The best big brother. He had lots of responsibilities, yet he couldn’t help fussing over you too.

Now look, Mitsuya really did want to walk you home everyday. He used to, in fact. But there was just too much he was forcibly needing to attend to. His family always came first. And once the time was right, you would become part of that family. And until then, he had to keep up appearances, responsibilities, and the gang.

Today, Mitsuya decided he had the time to walk you home, too. You walked home with the parasite, but he did like the idea of finding out where he lived, pay a visit perhaps. Unfinished business, and all. He walked a distance, and made sure to keep unseen, until the walk home became a detour to a crowd less street.

That was the only explanation for how he didn’t know about all of this until .. now? Right fucking now?

“Are you trying to hurt me that badly? Really?” your boyfriend sighed, angry and teary eyed.

“No, it isn’t like that,” you tried to explain. “He didn’t mean anything by it. Just a friendly gesture-“

But he cut you off by yelling at you.

“Friendly my ass, he’s been drooling over you for years y/n!”

You rolled your eyes.

“You’re just making that up… I’ve never spoke to him once before today.”

Yet it wasn’t convincing enough. “No, I get it. You told him something you shouldn’t have, didn’t you?”

“I didn’t tell him anything, I …. I haven’t told anyone, I promise.” You seemed to look away.

Mitsuya could see the both of you from his hiding spot, see both of your expressions as you both fought. Finally, you guys actually might break up, and by his unintentional influence? What a dream come true.

Excited, Takashi listened in further, hoping to hear your magic words.

“Really? I think you’re lying.” Your boyfriend nabbed out short.

You gasped sharply when he grabbed you by the root of your hair and tilted your eyes up to face his pissed off look.

“I think you’re trying to leave me behind. You want to leave me so bad. You hate me so much. Wish I would drop dead, even though I’m the one who looks out for you,” he scoffed.

“You would be a target without me. I hear the way the girls gossip about you. How you can’t put together an outfit to save your life. How clumsy you are.”

Your boyfriend gives you a pitiful smile, rolling his thumbs over your cheeks.

“No one talks badly about my baby though. I protect you, I always do.” His expression darkened as he frowned. “But you can’t stand being with me. You just won’t get that stupid idea about breaking up out of your stupid fucking head.”

The whiplash that snapped its way through Takashi’s system was unreal. The wind knocked right through him when he finally caught back up to reality.

Red lights were blaring in Mitsuya’s vision, yet on the outside, aside a hitched breath and a glare that could kill, Takashi was composed and poise. Out on a mission to kill, and he had his prey, and prize both locked in sight.

“Ooi, Y/n-chan,” Mitsuya casually yawned in a greeting to break the muggy tension of the empty school yard.

Your boyfriend visibly rose to full height, which was somewhat taller than Mitsuya. It’s fine. If Mikey has taught anyone anything, it’s to not determine dominance on size.

Takashi Mitsuya was going to rock this guys shit.

“Thought I’d come around to ask if you’d reconsider ‘bout that movie tonight.“ he lied with a sickly sweet smile your direction.

Like your boyfriend simply did not exist in his line of sight.

“Asshole. You got a lot of nerve.” Your boyfriend spoke down to Mitsuya, completely blocking you out of his way.

A nuisance. An obstacle.

—-One that commonly makes your life harder. The same guy who belittled you and kept you complacent. With his threatening words and god knows what else.

“You’re talking to My Girlfriend, I think you’ve forgot.”

“Don’t give a shit who you are,” Takashi whipped back, a look of murder flares his expression red.

“Not’a very respectful way to talk to your partner, someone aught’a teach you some fucking manners.”

Takashi grinned in your boyfriends confused face, the crazed feeling of hate swirled in Mitsuya’s chest, he reminisced in how much he hated the son of a bitch in front of him.

Just before Mitsuya’s instincts took the better of him, and began what would have been a series of combination martial art memoirs. He realized you were still wide eyed and stressed by the conflict before you. He could see you were about to jump in, to try and divert the friction.

Takashi Mitsuya knew what kind of person you were, and loved you for it. Almost instantly, Takashi found himself composed from that wild instinct to kill, from fit in his sheep’s clothing. To be the guy who you needed when things were dicey. Someone reliable to depend on because no one else in this world has ever looked out for you before. Before him.

A fake, kind smile spread on Mitsuya’s expression when he stepped-in uncomfortably close with your boyfriend.

And he whispered.

“You’re going to pay for the shit you’ve done to y/n. She’s not about to see any of that though, you got that you piece of shit?” Takashi’s voice seethed with poison.

“Get the fuck out of here before I dislocate your fucking femur. I swear to god, I can make it look like you just passed out while you lay here winded and unable to call for help while you can’t feel anything below your fucking-“

“M-Mitsuya…” you called out, feigning confidence.

He loved that look.

Mitsuya patted on your boyfriend’s shoulder, soon to bask in the look of primal fear sweating through his shirt. “What.. the fuck is wrong with you? Fu-fucking psycho…” your boyfriend sighed, fumbling to make a few feet distance between him and Mitsuya.

“Please… no more tonight, seriously!” You spoke up, taking a belittled stance closer to your boyfriend.

But Mitsuya gently took your free hand, halting you further.

“Y/n… he’s ready to back off, you don’t have to keep hiding behind him.” He spilled out, his words catching on to your boyfriend as he high tailed his way out from your sights. “I don’t have to be anything to you, but I can’t sit quietly while I know you’re hurting like this. I won’t. So please, let me look out for you, unconditionally.”

“I meant it when I said my little sisters were into Tokyo Mew Mew,” Mitsuya chuckled to ease the awkward tension, pulling out his extra tickets. “Only part I lied ‘bout was not knowing much about it. Binged it the other week, ‘n I’m actually caught up and pretty stoked to see this movie, too.”

“We can still make it, if you’re up for it.”

[loki-cees-all]

For the celebration, what would Loki do if he realized your birthday was coming up but you were sad about getting older? Or being alone on that day?

The Distraction {Avengers!Loki x Avengers!Reader}

Cee's Loki Fic Masterlist / Cee and K's Glorious Birthday Bash Celebration Prompt List / AO3 Link

Pairing : (hints of) Avengers!Loki x Avengers!Reader

Summary : Another year, another birthday. All you want to do is not think about it too much, so Loki comes up with a helpful distraction.

W/c : 1.5k words

Content/Warnings : Fluff, a smidgeon of angst, Loki & reader friendship, hints that it could be something more

Author's Note : Apologies this took so long, @queen-paladin. Hope you enjoy it! <3

⊱ ── ༓ ── ⋅•⋅⊰ ──  ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ∙ ⋅  ── ⊱⋅•⋅ ── ༓ ── ⊰

“So, what are your plans for this evening?” 

Bruce’s question had caught you off guard. Zoning out a while ago, you were only brought back to the reality of the Avengers conference room once you felt everyone’s gaze upon you. The meeting hadn’t started yet, and apparently the conversation had shifted to the subject of your birthday during the wait, much to your own chagrin. 

“Climbing a mountain? Wrangling a wild lion? Threesome? Stop me when I’m getting warm,” Tony offered without looking up from his cell phone; even while not paying attention, he still needed to make the most entertaining guess possible.

Clint laughed as he twirled a pen between his fingers. “Angling for an invite?”

“Well, surely she’ll be reflecting on her triumphs and accomplishments over the past year. Isn’t that what mortals do on their birthdays?” Thor mumbled through a mouthful of several donuts. His question was a genuine one, and so was his smile; and he meant no harm, but it still made you shift uncomfortably in your seat. 

“Only if Lady Gaga is the third,” Tony replied to Clint with a smirk. The conversation was already spiraling wildly out of control, and your throat was starting to dry up. 

“Leave her be,” Natasha interrupted, sensing your discomfort from across the table. “You guys aren’t cool enough to hear about her birthday plans anyway…” 

As you brought the coffee cup to your lips, Natasha shot you a wink, and you were grateful for the save. Truthfully, you hated your birthday and therefore had nothing on the agenda…other than your definitely exciting plans of catching some much-needed shut-eye and trying not to think too much about anything. 

“Whatever her plans are, she’s definitely earned it. And we all wish you the happiest of birthdays,” Steve smiled reassuringly before clearing his throat to begin the meeting. 

As he went on and on about intel reports and reminders about the importance of collateral damage mitigation, one pair of eyes continued to linger on you - soft, thoughtful, curious. He hadn’t said much during the previous conversation, but then again, he never did. 

Instead, Loki preferred to study and listen, to learn whatever he could in the silence of everything left unsaid. And once the meeting finally adjourned, you silently retreated to your private quarters, eager for the silence where no one would expect you to say anything. 

The evening snow had cocooned the city in a blanket of chilled warmth, cozy and elegant and quiet. There were no sirens and emergencies that night; it was so cold outside that even villains and criminals couldn’t be bothered to stir up trouble. 

Snuggled up tight in your bed inside Stark Tower with your phone on silent mode, you drifted in and out of consciousness - thinking about everything that had passed you by, dreaming about what you’d never be able to accomplish. You had made it to the Avengers Team, an impressive feat to be sure, but how long would that last?

Would you ever feel like you’d made it in a building surrounded by Gods and geniuses, miracles and champions? Would you ever find love? Did Avengers ever get a happy ending? Probably not…

The knuckles of a careful hand tapped on your door, rousing you from your thoughts. It was late - almost midnight, minutes away from not having to think about your birthday for another year. 

Begrudgingly, you extracted yourself from the warm blankets and trudged to the door of your private quarters. The air was frigid and sharp, and you shivered as you brushed the hair out of your eyes and looked through the peephole. 

Loki waited on the other side of the door, standing tall and regal, yet casual and sincere, all at the same time. And despite the late hour, or maybe even because of it, he looked even more beautiful than usual. 

You had no idea why he was here; you hadn’t spent much time with him outside the confines of missions, but you always wished that was different. When he did speak up, he was clever and funny, and he seemed to be at least somewhat amused by you too. But he preferred seclusion, and so did you. 

Swallowing hard, you scrambled to smooth out your wrinkled pajamas and comb your fingers through your messy hair, trying to appear at least somewhat put together as you pulled open the door. 

“Apologies for the late intrusion, but…could I have a moment of your time?” he greeted, smiling an infuriating combination of charm and consideration. 

You nodded and tried to ignore the butterflies in your belly as you stepped aside to let him in. “Yeah, of course. Sorry, I just got back from the, um…” 

Loki followed you inside, his hands placed casually in his pockets as he looked curiously around your room. But his gaze returned to you as your voice trailed off, waiting patiently for you to continue. 

“From the, um…place with the…” you trailed off again, trying to come up with an interesting thing you had done that night. Loki arched an eyebrow and an amused smile crept across his face as he watched you try to come up with a believable lie. 

Sighing heavily and resigning to admit the truth, you collapsed down on the couch. “I didn’t go anywhere tonight. I really hate my birthday.” 

Loki chuckled and sat down carefully next to you. “Yes, I’d gathered as much. It seems like birthdays are a mixed bag for humans…” 

“Yeah, they really are…” you replied quietly, staring at your fingers as they pressed and fidgeted with one another. “Is it the same way with Asgardian birthdays?” 

Loki shifted on the couch to lean back and cross his legs. “Well, we don’t really have a concept of birthdays where I’m from. After the first thousand or so, I’d imagine that they’d probably become incredibly…tedious,” he answered thoughtfully. 

“Yeah, that makes sense…” 

Silence descended upon you both, and you realized it was the first time you’d ever been alone with him. He smelled like an ancient forest and the spices of a distant land. It was comforting, and suddenly you couldn’t remember why you’d never invited him over before. 

“So what is it about your special day that’s left you so melancholy?” 

You laughed and shook your head as you leaned back too, staring up at the ceiling overhead. “You’re the God of Lies, and from what I’ve gathered, a quick study on humanity. So why don’t you tell me?” 

“Well, from my thorough interrogations of other humans…” Loki smiled teasingly before letting out a deep breath. “I’d wager it has to do with the passage of time. The reminder of your own mortality. The pressures that society places on you to have the best day ever. When in reality, it’s just…another day one needs to make it through.” 

You turned to look at him, and he met your gaze. His green eyes were beautiful, sparkling even in the low light of your quarters. “Mmm. You really are a quick study…” 

“Well, I do what I can…” Loki hummed in response. His lips parted as if he wanted to say something else, and your breath hitched; but instead, he turned his head to look out the window. 

Returning your attention to your hands, you tried not to think about what he was going to say, or what it meant that he was here. That you were alone together. That he was…trying to comfort you, in his own way. 

“It’s a pity to waste all that…” he murmured absentmindedly as he pulled the curtains aside. 

The snow was starting to pile up outside, and the sky was filled with fluttering sheets of crisp white, effortlessly dimming the lights of the city and making you feel like you two were the only ones left in the world. “Shall we go and have what you humans call a snowball fight?” 

You laughed incredulously. “The God of Mischief wants to spend the last few minutes of my birthday having a snowball fight?” 

Loki turned back to you with a playful grin on his face. It was intoxicating and delightful. “Why not? You seem like you could use a distraction. And what is mischief if not a distraction?” 

You couldn’t help but smile, the biggest one you’d had all day. Loki returned your smile in earnest as he stood up, ready to go. He held his hand out for you to take it, and you couldn’t believe the blessing he was offering. 

“Okay - but no magic. I am just a weak mortal, and it is still technically my birthday…” you teased, accepting his helping hand. 

Loki laughed with a warm smile. “Agreed, I won’t use any magic. Wouldn’t want to humiliate you on your birthday, now would I?”

You really didn’t care whether you won or lost the upcoming fight. All that mattered was that you had a distraction - and Loki was the perfect one. 

⊱ ── ༓ ── ⋅•⋅⊰ ──  ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ∙ ⋅  ── ⊱⋅•⋅ ── ༓ ── ⊰

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[romance-rambles]

concept: due to some ancient relic rumored to be able to make someone go back in time, the ricci brothers wake up in the past.

this happens about a year after chevalier's coronation.

they specifically end up on the day that silvio's mother poisoned rio's mother, and silvio could do nothing but watch helplessly—aka that scene from silvio's romantic route ch21.

you see, the relic is supposed to take you back to a moment you deeply regret. and silvio was the one holding onto it, while rio was climbing over him to see what he was up to.

rio is really just collateral here.

they both wake in their own beds. while silvio is woken up by one of his servants, lydia, rio's mom, wakes rio up. due to all the poisoning attempts, she's incredibly frail, and it's only when he holds her that he realizes that this is real.

silvio, meanwhile, has already caught on, simply because he remembers the legend surrounding the relic—a moment he regrets most.

truthfully, he regrets how he handled rio in general.

because silvio both loves and loathes him. if someone seems to have a better relationship with rio (outside of emma), he starts getting snippy. if someone insults rio (even if it's a friend of his), he starts getting snippy.

if rio hits his head and suddenly starts showing mild affection towards him...i think you get the idea.

[by the way, rio's is provoking the former queen. silvio is oddly touched, until he remembers he hates his mother and that he'd given up on emidio long before rio's accident, so he really doesn't care.]

however, there's one singular moment that specifically haunts him whenever he's left at the mercy of his regrets. so silvio asks the servant when his father is coming back. then he purposely says the wrong date, mostly because his pride won't let him admit he's worried about rio.

[it isn't said how old they are, nor when it takes place in relation to the rio&silvio collection story. however, i assume they take place within a year of each other, with the latter coming first. they're like 10/12 respectively]

once he has his answer, silvio heads over to the royal physician's office and tells him that he wants the physician's book on poisons.

there's probably a better way to word this so that the man doesn't think he's trying to poison rio, but silvio's used to it. he flips through the book and demands that the man make him a specific antidote. he's already lived through this once, after all. at this point, the only person he cares about in this damned family is rio (and emma).

however, while he's in the middle of rushing the apprentice, rio comes along, having had the same idea.

they stare at each other for a long moment before silvio gets embarrassed and tells the apprentice to drop it off in his room as soon as it's done. it's not like he hasn't helped rio in the past, but their childhood...it still feels like a touchy subject for him. plus, when helping him in rhodolite, he had the excuse of preventing an international incident.

what excuse does he have now?

the door slams shut behind him and rio takes the opportunity to question the apprentice.

after warning him about talking shit about silvio, though he words it as if he was concerned about the apprentice instead, he takes the antidote and offers to drop it off at silvio's. rio get visibly angry when the apprentice insists against it, but puts his "nicest person you'll ever meet" mask on so quickly that the man misses it.

the first thing rio does when he kicks open the door is complain about silvio's bad reputation. the first thing is silvio does is tell him to fuck off.

rio's compromise is this: he sits on the edge of the bed, while silvio is trying to get the antidote. then he asks about silvio's grand plan, and it's really just him opening his big mouth and handing her the antidote.

even if it means being shunned by his mother and emidio.

rio thinks he's an idiot, but silvio throws rio's words back at him: "at least i'll be human."

"isn't that what you've always been?"

silvio's not entirely sure how much he's supposed to read into rio's words. is this forgiveness? does he deserve it? of course, he doesn't. but rio doesn't let him wallow for much long. he suggests that he should be the one to give the antidote, and silvio can play double agent, particularly since they have no idea how long they'll be here for. and they can't leave without emma anyway.

so they go with his plan, where, once his mother gets poisoned, rio orders a few servants to help him get his mother to her room. then he feeds her the antidote and she falls asleep.

that night, he sneaks into silvio's room to tell him the news.

meanwhile, silvio's been thinking. it's possible that the requirements for returning home include fixing rio's regrets as well. they both agree that they'd prefer to stay here for as little time as possible, so they hope that's not the case.

that night, they congregate in silvio's room to discuss what happened. eventually, they fall asleep together and when they wake up, they're on the floor, with emma hovering over them concernedly.

[by the way, emma tried to get some of the knights to move the two to their respective rooms. rio was, unfortunately, holding on for dear life.]

at first, they think it might've been some kind of dream. nothing seems to have changed after all. silvio has a moment where he hates himself, since all that fixing amounted to was soothing his own guilt and ego.

he then leaves and rio comes to talk to him, regardless of what route emma's on. they're very awkward about it.

then, rio says:

"even if it was a dream, you still helped. emma would say that's still a good deed regardless."

they end up fighting like babies—or more accurately, like siblings. silvio snarks that he doesn't understand how he ended up with a brother like rio, and rio teases him about wanting to look good in front of him.

"ah, how embarrassing. 'i've always wanted to be close to you.' you know, words like that are better suited for your wife (silvio's route)/fiancée (rio's route)."

this is something silvio personally said before they fell asleep, so silvio's only recourse is to shove him.

emma's job, as always, is to break it up.

[cut to baby rio and baby silvio. they wake up, with the vaguest memory of the prior day's events. they think it's just their imagination, until rio finds a note written by silvio (that he vaguely remembers writing) about how he hopes his mom feels better because of the antidote.

rio gets angry at first. he thinks he's being taunted. and then, he realizes that he can recall taking the antidote from silvio—and that silvio claims that he wishes to protect him, but has no power.

so he leaves a note for silvio, who goes through the same song and dance. their relationship ends up for the better, since now rio knows silvio's on his side. at one point, he comes across silvio after he's "talked" with their dad.

rio kicks the door open to shout at his dad. silvio tries to get him to stop, but rio's mother comes in and she learns everything. she's suitably horrified, so now the king has to choose between hating silvio and keeping the woman he loves.

even in the future, rio's mother holds a grudge, and thinks her sons aren't necessarily wrong to hold one, even if it breaks her heart.

in this new world, they end up much happier, though the events of the game still happen!]

[in the og timeline, their relationship is notably less rocky. they're like normal sibling tier now.]

[deepdonutkid]

Put your head on my shoulder

Requested: yes, by @sighonahurricane​

Pair: Tommy Shelby x female reader

Request: I'm here to make a request based on a list you just posted. Would you please do a piece with 7 from fluff and 10 from the list just after that, with Tommy Shelby? Something like this below? (Tommy laying his head in her lap?🥺🥺)

7. “Your hair is so soft.”

10. “It’s funny, in that dark terrible way I mean.” “You wouldn’t believe me if I said I was fine, would you?”

Summary: After one dirty and dark night, Tommy comes home to his wife and can’t find sleep. Maybe his wife can help him.

Author’s note:

The story is with a reader, but not written with the you form, because the story focus on Tommy. Also... I have problems writing fluff for him, so this is bittersweet.

English is not my native language and this is not proof read.

Enjoy reading! Tagging: @bonniesgoldengirl​ @justalonelyslytherin​ @retromafia​ (because we already talked about this fic) @theshelbyclan​

Words: 1,4k

Warnings: canon typical violence

It was business as usual for Tommy, but this day felt so much longer than just twenty-four hours. Somehow it was more tiring and more exhausting than his usual work day.

After he had left the office, he couldn’t even go straight home. No, instead he had more work to do, but not of the legal kind. The shady side of his business needed his undivided attention and this time he couldn’t outsource it. Tommy had to do it himself. It was the ugly part of his activities.

But he was used to it, as far as anybody could get used to that kind of work. He had done it many times before on his way to the top and now he had something like a routine with it. After all murder was just a business, a very cold and lonely one, but it was part of the reason why he became so successful.

His driveway to his mansion, symbol of his new status, was paved with blood and bones of enemies and friends. Sometimes the death was a collateral damage, like it was with Danny, but today it was the calculated outcome of his plans.

He already ruled half of England, but nevertheless he had to demonstrate his powers once again. Nobody could forget about it or question his position on the throne.

It was a bloody type of work and Tommy hated every minute of it. Besides the psychological damage, murdering someone was also very draining, as well as digging the shallow grave for that poor fella, who had crossed paths with the almighty Tommy Shelby.

A sign of relief left his lips, when he was finally done. He put the shovel in his car and cleaned up his face with his handkerchief. Somewhere along the process the pale skin of his sunken cheeks got stained with blood and dirt. He didn’t care about it anymore. The smell was omnipresent in his life and he couldn’t escape it. However, he was concerned about his wife, who was probably still waiting for him. The last thing Tommy wanted was to upset her. On top of that, he couldn’t stand when she asked him which blood it was. It was rarely his, but of course she would be worried about him anyway.

All on his own he drove through the dark, making his way home. His body was tired, when he climbed the stairs to the Arrow House, but his mind was still wide awake from all the things he did that day. Most present in his thoughts was the murder. The scene kept playing in his head over and over again.

Tommy forced a small smile on his lips, when he entered his bedroom and found his wife. “Why are you still awake?”, he asked: “You know, you don’t have to wait for me.” It was platitude, yes, but he said it anyway. Usually he wasn’t the type of person, who would say such a thing. Still he said it every time after he came home late at night, after a certain kind of work… It was part of his ritual.

“And hello to you too, Thomas”, she scolded him: “Also… you know very well, I can only sleep when you’re right by my side. Safe and sound.”  She turned out of bed and walked the few steps to greet him with a kiss. Nevertheless she was still very caring, even though he didn’t deserve it most of the time.

Of course, he tried to be a good husband for her. He started to undress himself and when he was just in his boxer shorts, he presented her his woundless body. “See? Safe and sound”, he grunted: “Now let’s go to bed again.”

She took his hand and pulled him to their marital bed. Her voice was as soft as her silken nightdress when she whispered: “Only if you come with me, love.”

Her husband sighed, but followed her lead and got between the blanks.

Just like usual he was the big spoon and she was the little spoon. He kissed the back of her head and inhaled the scent of her hair.

But even though he stuck to his routine, he couldn’t find sleep. Most of these days, he was so tired, the sleep caught him, before his thought of guilt did. And after all this time and all the bad things he did, there was still plenty of guilt left. Actually it was piling up, like a mountain of his sins.

Today the demons in his head were stronger than the desperate desire of sleep from his body. He laid there for a while, before he realized, he was still too mentally involved with all his scandalous deed.

What Tommy now needed, was distraction. So he approached his wife. “Y/N?” Maybe she was still awake like him. His voice was throaty, but also incredibly needy.  In the daylight and most of the time the Shelby acted like he didn’t need anyone, but in the comfort of his bed he was ready to show his vulnerable side.

A little sleepy and so quiet, he almost didn’t hear it, she said under her breath: “Yes, dear?”

“I can’t sleep”, he confessed and gave her hand a squeeze.  

She turned around to look him in his ocean eyes. The wheels in her head were turning, he could sense it and after a while she suggested: “Okay, how about you put your head on my lap and tell me about your day.”

The worried were visible in his face. There was no point in lying about it, “You wouldn’t believe me if I said I was fine, would you?”, Tommy asked and she shook her head silently. She was the only person who understood him even without words. Sometimes he didn’t need to say anything, she just sensed, when something was wrong.

But today he needed to make that clear. “I don’t want to talk about my day”, he objected and put his hand on her cheek. His thumb caressed her soft skin oh so gentle. The shire thought about his day made him grumpy. Plus, it was also the cause of his current problem.

With an intense gaze in her eyes she stared at him and then poked his nose with her index finger. “I’ll tell you about mine.”

Then she sat upright and leaned against the headboard. Demanding she patted her lap as a sign he should come over and rest his head on her warm thighs.

Again he did just like she ordered. Tommy had left his dominance at the doorstep. Now he wasn’t the dangerous and evil gangster boss, but just a simple, yet tired man.

There was something spiritual about the way she ran her fingers through his hair. She had just started, but Tommy already felt way calmer, than before.

“The kids were hilarious today. You should have seen them. Charlie asked if horses could smoke like humans did”, she explained: “And Rosa ate her first biscuit today. She had wet crumbs all over her face. It was so adorable.”

He laughed a little, but he was sad at the same time, because he had missed these moments with his children. Tommy really wished he had been there. But what did he do instead? Making business, getting more money, threat and eventually kill people.

Tommy was completely caught up in his thoughts, when his wife mumbled: “Your hair is so soft.” She sounded almost surprised, as if she wanted to know the secret behind his silken smooth hair.

“What?” was all he said in his confusion about the sudden change of subject.

Now she was giggling and shook her head. “I said you’re incredibly soft for a tough gangster boss.”

The Shelby rolled his eyes and grumbled: “Don’t say that” which caused his wife to laugh even harder.

She had to calm down, before throwing in a question: “Why?”

“Because that’s a secret! What would the people think?”, he explained to her and tried to look up, to see her face.

Again she laughed and vowed: “I will keep your secret then… but it’s funny, in that dark terrible way I mean… right here you’re my Tommy, my husband and my everything, but everybody else think you are a horrible person.”

“But you don’t think that, eh?”

His wife clucked her tongue and answered: “I could never.”

[lovelyartisan]

Okay Imma shut up about Sharon possibly being the villain after this!

(But lets think about this for a second if she were the capital b, "Bad Guy," of the series (Zemo's like what the secondary bad guy or maybe their working together? Ya'll see that shit coming 👀? new ship alert lol jk but not really)

How great of a dark foil would she be for Sam's conflict regarding the mantel of Captain America.

She'd be like the shoulder devil to Bucky's shoulder angel act regarding the shield and the idea of super heroes in general to Sam.

This is a woman who grew up listening to stories from the aunt she worshipped like the legend she was, talk about Steve like he was the second coming of Christ, like she has been a stan of this man her whole life.

-In CA:TWS, She risks everything for him (I'm talking as in his ideals not to get in his pants) when confronted with fact the hydra had infiltrated the organization her Aunt spent her whole life to build, she trusted Steve was making the right call and helped him dismantle it.

She burnt down her aunt's legacy, S.H.I.E.L.D, expecting nothing in return, but there's no way a piece of her didn't die with it.

Then in Civil War, as we were just recently reminded of in the latest 2 episodes, she lost everything, she verbatim tells Zemo this:

But LOOK at the way this is framed, this show has never held back on the close ups, if they wanted us to pinpoint her rage against Zemo why not close up on him? but instead its all three of them. this would be beautiful foreshadowing if I'm right. because her grudge is against all of them.

Because she stole government property for SAM and Steve for BUCKY's sake, yet all three were able to both move on after a couple years as if nothing ever happened, while again! I must remind you! Sharon lost EVERYTHING.

Can you imagine how betrayed she must have felt when Steve retired, completely forgetting her and the smoking wreck of a life she was left with, Can you imagine how much of a false god Steve must have seemed to her, the righteous soldier who never left a man behind that her aunt told her about all her life.

He was a lie; heroes were a lie -- and just like that she snaps.

Her being the powerbroker would also explain a couple things:

1. Why the powerbroker has beef with Zemo even though they've never met.

2. Her very cold and snarky roast of Bucky's belief in the Captain America brand, the way someone would talk about a product- you know like a broker!

3. Why she insists that Sam and Bucky stay out of it for their safety, the way Vancamp delivers the line almost made it sound like a lamenting ultimatum.

AND HERE'S WHERE THAT DARK FOIL FOR SAM BUSINESS I WAS TALKING ABOUT EARLIER COMES BACK AROUND!

Sharon and Sam were both new to Steve's life, both clearly idealized him, both gave up everything for him, but only one of them got to reap the reward of being in Steve's inner circle.

AND now that Steve is gone, Sam is starting to see the cracks in having a dogmatic belief in the Captain America brand like Bucky, he's starting to see that a lot of the "goodwill" people showed him was for Steve's sake and not for him.

both Sharon and Zemo even recognize his shaken confidence in the idea of superheroes:

Sharon: Look you know the whole hero thing is a joke, right?I mean the way you gave up that shield, deep down, you must know its all hypocrisy.

Sam: *says nothing*

Zemo: He knows and not so deep down.

At the end of Episode 3, we see Sam upset about how lives like Sharon's and Isaiah's were destroyed for the Captain America legacy and how everyone would rather brush them aside and only look at the good that's come from it as if the collateral damage meant nothing.

We even see Bucky (Sam's other foil) in this last episode give him the ultimatum that if he won't preserve Steve's legacy, then he will take the shield and do it himself.

Sam is caught between these two very extreme ideologies that both represent a part of how he feels about this legacy.

I think if Sharon is the power broker it will show how complete disillusionment with heroes can be just as toxic as worshipping them.

Since right now the narrative of the power broker is that they are currently after the serums (and if its for the motivations that the power broker in the comics would have) then its all for money not revenge.

because hate is not the opposite of love, indifference is and Sharon clearly shows this indifference while casually asking about the new captain america and then dissolving any interest in it when Bucky gets passionate about the subject. She couldn't care less about who's holding the mantle.

I may jokingly call her a hater but the truth is there's no spark or any kind of feeling from her, she just seems numb to the whole thing --- and that's where she becomes dangerous, she doesn't care about anything.

Priceless art, murdering people (shown in her brutal take down of the bounty hunters), and perhaps even the super-soldier serum.

She's already seen a world torn apart by the blip and lived and potentially conquered a place like Mandrapoor, suffering and injustice mean nothing to her and because she believes there are no true heroes; she believes the world's already doomed.

She's become the lamest kind of nihilist basically.

I think the show is going illustrate to us how Sam will be the healthiest medium, not pretending that Steve is a flawless Aryan Jesus but also not throwing away the good he brought into the world just because he wasn't perfect.

I think this is the thesis the show seems to be going for: don't feel cheated if your heroes aren't perfect, let their flaws instead help you to realize that despite their flaws they did good in the world; which means you and your flaws can do good in the world as well.

Also making Sharon the power broker is very unlikely but at the same time its just so great to imagine and like her not being the power broker doesn't make her any less of a dark foil for sam so i'm going to pretend this rant was justified bye

[sadclearance]

right hand

pairing: katsuki bakugo x male!reader

summary: 5 things bakugo uses his right hand for + 1 thing bakugo uses his left hand for *wrote with “left hand” being in mind as a prequel, but can also be read as a standalone 

category: fluff

warning(s): none

word count: 1500

key:

s/t - skin tone

i.

when they were in high school, midoriya izuku noticed that bakugo katsuki--his childhood friend and bully--always started fights with a right hook.

which was incredibly powerful, albeit predictable.

midoriya still remembers a specific sunny morning in their third year when this expected yet efficient move was used for something that wasn't exactly a fight. a second year had made the unbelievably stupid mistake of--

"watch it, dumbass!"

and immediately after bakugo caught y/n before he could fall on his ass, bakugo's right fist met with the second year's nose, successfully breaking it and scorching off the hairs of the kid's eyebrows.

at the time, nobody really thought anything of it. bakugo was protective of the few people that he considered--but would never outright admit--to be his friends, and y/n was one of them.

ii.

but it was at the christmas social event that was held for the third years to get a chance to make connections as well as have fun before the end of their student years that it became clear that it was much much more than just friends looking out for each other.

"what're you doing all alone?" kaminari asked as he leaned against the wall next to y/n.

"everyone's either flirting with pro heroes or kissing their asses, and i'm not really in the mood to do either."

"yeah, i can see that," kaminari snickered as mineta got slapped in the face by mount lady after both a series of terrible flirting and a horrendous attempt to literally kiss her ass.

"surprised you're not doing the same."

"well..." kaminari said as he pointed up. he was wearing a hat with a hanging mistletoe.

"how not unexpected," y/n laughed.

"you know the tradition," kaminari winked pointing at his lips.

"okay, okay. for the holiday spirit--"

and as y/n leaned in to give kaminari a peck, a strong right hand grabbed his chin, and his lips met with a pair that belonged to someone else.

kaminari was too shocked to be disappointed after being pushed away by none other than bakugo.

"fuck off, dunce face," bakugo said before crashing his lips against y/n's.

that was one hell of a way to find out that two of his best friends were dating.

iii.

bakugo's jealousy only got worse after graduation.

but to be fair, that was his own fault.

he may have chilled out since their time together as first years, but he was still a headstrong ambitious hero.

they didn't go public with their relationship because bakugo figured it would be distracting to his goal.

which was a decision that he immediately regretted when he remembered just how attractive y/n was--something that other people clearly appreciated as well.

y/n got gifts, compliments, and very suggestive comments wherever he went, which did nothing but fuel bakugo's anger and displeasure.

there was a solution to this problem, and it was to let it be known to the world that y/n was his and his only.

instead of doing what normal couples do and going to an interviewer or announcing their relationship on his social media accounts, bakugo decided to--

"so... y/n," the barista looked at the name she just wrote on the cup and then back to y/n. "are you seeing anybody?"

"what's taking so fucking long?" bakugo asked as he came up behind y/n, right hand harshly meeting y/n's left ass cheek.

"ow! what the hell? there's paparazzi right outside of the window," y/n scolded, gesturing toward the crowd of people with cameras on the other side of the glass wall.

bakugo's only response was to press a kiss against y/n's lips, smirking into it as he saw a flash of light in the corner of his eye, fully aware of the fact that his hand was still on y/n's ass.

iv.

when he saw a building crumbling on top of y/n, he knew what he had to do.

he had faced a similar obstacle to this in his first year of high school, when he was up against round face--ochako. she had collected rubble that he had unknowingly provided and gathered it all up to the sky, later using it as a weapon by making it rain down on bakugo.

a building, however, had much more stone than a collection of collateral concrete that an individual collected over only a few minutes.

"y/n!" he shouted.

recreating the move from his first year, he raised his right hand and released a massive explosion--one much larger than the original maneuver.

he had succeeded for the most part. small bits of rubble rained down on them, but it was more like getting hit by hail than being buried by a boulder.

"bakugo!"

the mentioned man gritted his teeth and pressed the rough fingers of his left hand into his terribly cramped and pained right hand.

"you overdid it, you idiot!"

y/n rushed to get medical attention, and bakugo reluctantly let himself be pulled around.

he would've crudely yelled back that he didn't need help, but the worried look on y/n's face stopped him.

"i'm not gonna die, dumbass," bakugo rolled his eyes. the words were intended to come off harsher, and more like bakugo insulting a subordinate for not being able to see the obvious, but they came out closer to a soft reassurance instead.

"do that again, and i'll kill you myself," y/n glared. he looked more like an angry puppy.

"as if you could even land a hit on m--"

y/n's lips shut him up.

"even though that was the stupidest thing i've ever seen, thank you for saving me," y/n smiled, rubbing soft circles into bakugo's right hand.

"'stupidest thing you've ever seen'..." bakugo grumbled.

v.

"what the fuck are you doing?"

it's been a habit to hold hands while doing almost anything since their time together at u.a.

hell, they used to hold hands throughout basically all of high school except during hero training.

subjects like math, language, history--they didn't require both hands. they only needed to write on a piece of paper, and they only needed their dominant hands for that.

so it comes as no surprise that that habit followed them to their pro hero years, pale left hand entwined with s/t right hand as they finish their paperwork.

bakugo's confusion was prompted by y/n's sudden fascination with his right hand.

"i rarely ever give this one attention," y/n shrugged.

"it's not its own being. like a pet or a person."

the look bakugo gave y/n told him that he was the biggest dumbass in history, but y/n ignored it in favor of responding, "still a part of you i rarely get a piece of."

"i hate the way you worded that, creep..."

"you're still blushing."

"in your fucking dreams!"

+i.

going to a nice place was somewhat out of the ordinary for the two of them.

bakugo was focused on being the top hero, and being the top hero meant sacrificing a lot of time.

y/n doesn't know what changed bakugo's mind so suddenly, but he wasn't about to reject a once in a lifetime opportunity.

"the breeze is so nice," y/n breathed in the fresh air of the beach.

he had ran up to the gorgeous ocean, cold water hitting his bare legs while he tried to convince bakugo to join him.

"not up to the challenge? that's rare," y/n teased, turning his back to him and going deeper into the sea.

"oh, shut your trap! i have a damn good reason."

"yeah, i'm sure you do. you sure you aren't just cold?"

"i said shut the fuck up!"

"okay, okay," y/n complied and entertained himself with the vibrant blue waves.

"i love you," came bakugo's voice abruptly.

"that's weird, you never say it first, especially not without any form or profan--" y/n turned around to give bakugo a ridiculous look, laughing as he did, only to stop almost immediately.

"fuck y--" bakugo had to stop his habitual reflex. "marry me... dumbass?"

bakugo with a nervous tone, one knee in the sand, struggling to not get up because of the annoying shifting and imbalance, and a ring in his hands was a priceless sight to see.

"yes! yes! yes!" y/n ran back to the dry sand.

bakugo grinned and accepted the kiss but broke it off sooner than he would've liked for the fear of dropping the ring and losing it to the waves.

he slid the ring on y/n's hand with a proud smile before y/n demanded to have the other ring.

"shit, calm down," bakugo laughed, but he couldn't help but feel happy that y/n was just as ecstatic.

although he was the one to say that, bakugo's left hand struggled to stay still as y/n put the ring on bakugo's ring finger.

"i love you," y/n pressed his lips against the trembling left hand once he was done.

with the rings safely on their hands, bakugo could freely go back to enjoying the treasure that was y/n's lips.

❥๑━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━๑❥

a/n;

a sequel exactly a month after

i like this format because i'm shit at transitions

i mean just look at the shift from iii to iv...

i had an idea for the right hand theme for a while now since the battle trials when izuku mentioned the right hook thing but i was like woah i could do it with this while writing left hand

[epona610]

A Comparison of OUAT Redemption Stories

So I was DMing with someone about a different show entirely, and I brought up OUAT because I loved/hated this show so much and it’s largely based on redemption stories. I was going to briefly explain why I find Hook’s arc so compelling (though not without its flaws, of course) and Regina’s so lacking, but it turns out that I still cannot write briefly about this subject. So I’m posting this here because this is what my blog was originally about, and I find I still feel very much the same way even after a few years have passed. I want to preface this by saying I haven’t rewatched the show since it went off the air, and I certainly could’ve forgotten some things. And I’m obviously biased in that I loathe the character of Regina so much, although here I’m trying to explain exactly why I can’t stand her.

Hook and Regina were both motivated by revenge for the deaths of their first loves. Rumple murdered his ex-wife and Hook’s current lover/partner/co-captain, Milah, so Hook set out to kill Rumple himself, the Dark One, who is one of (if not the) most powerful beings in their world. Hook caused a lot of harm to innocent people as collateral damage, but eventually he gave up on the idea of revenge and basically peacefully coexisted with the guy who had murdered his first love and chopped off his hand. Regina’s mother was the one to kill her first love, but did she go after her? No, she went after the ten-year-old child (Snow) whom her mother had manipulated into telling about her first love (by playing on Snow’s feelings for her dead mother, whom Regina’s mother had murdered). Regina was going after an innocent person from the beginning because she was afraid of her mother. 

Then there’s the scale of the harm done. Regina: literally slaughtered at least two whole villages, sent countless children to be literally eaten by a cannibal, cursed an entire population by permanently altering their minds, has murdered so many people and taken so many hearts she lost track of whose was whose, illegally adopted a child whom she knowingly raised in a town where no one else grew or aged and then gaslit him when he caught on, murdered her father in order to cast the curse. Hook: was a pirate so he has killed people (we learn that his rings come from murder victims, whose names and circumstances he remembers) killed his own father (who had sold him into child slavery) thereby orphaning his little brother, killed David’s father, backhanded Belle across the face once, shot her so she’d cross the town line and lose her memories, sort of turned Baelfire over to Peter Pan (but only after Bae refused to let Hook hide him so I never got why he felt guilty over that honestly). No indiscriminate mass murder that we know of. 

And of course there’s the remorse or utter lack thereof. Regina is constantly defending her actions. I’ll use her own words to illustrate. She at one point says to Snow: “To be fair, I was threatening you. Everyone else just became collateral damage.” And then later we get this infuriating exchange:

Regina: Need I remind you I dedicated years to knocking you down? But nothing could stop you. 

Snow: You took my kingdom, cast your curse, I lost my daughter for 28 years.

Regina: And then you found her. 

Clearly no remorse or recognition for the fact that she stole Emma’s entire childhood from her and her parents. And the classic, said as she was escaping a tree that attacks people’s regret: “I did cast a curse that devastated an entire population. I have tortured and murdered. I’ve done some terrible things. I should be overflowing with regret, but I’m not.” 

I feel that I should add that she ends that last statement with “because it got me my son”. And that sounds lovely, but that means that she doesn’t regret the harm she’s done since getting him (continuing to enslave and sexually abuse her victims, murdering Graham, attempting to murder the entire town so Henry would have nobody else to love) or even more notably, the harm she’s done to Henry (raising him in a psychologically unhealthy environment, cursing him in an attempt to curse his mother, gaslighting him, attempting to murder his entire family, altering his memories, etc.) Regina says time and again that she “gave up on revenge” against Snow, but as far as I can tell, she only decided she was satisfied because she’d succeeded in irreparably harming Snow. She took away her chance to raise her daughter, who ended up being raised in an abusive foster system and felt obligated to give up her own child. 

And then I compare that to Hook’s apologizing and making things right with people he’s hurt, like Ursula, his younger brother Liam, and David. And then he and Belle become close friends and eventually they have this conversation:

Belle: I’m sorry, I can’t stay here. If Rumple finds you harboring me...

Hook: His wrath will be an added bonus.

Belle: I don’t understand. Why would you risk your life for me?

Hook: Long ago, I... I tried to kill you in the queen’s castle once. I failed. But along the way, I did something I can live with no longer. I laid a hand on you. And there’s the matter of my shooting you at the town line.

Belle: Yeah, well. You’ve changed since all that.  

Hook: Maybe. I have a long road to travel before I can be someone I can be proud of. Despite the forgiveness of others, I must forgive myself, and I’m not there yet.

So yeah, that’s a summary of why I find Hook’s redemption arc to be (somewhat) believable and satisfying and Regina’s to be... basically nonexistent. The show tells us she’s a hero and a good person now, but she never apologizes or shows remorse. She makes it abundantly clear that she’s doing good only in the hopes of getting happiness for herself, which she absolutely feels entitled to even though she’s taken it from so many others (the amount of times she complained about not getting what she wants despite occasionally doing the right thing is incredible). She still even has a bunch of hearts whose owners she apparently forgot! There’s no indication that guilt weighs on her at all, or that she even feels any guilt. I can’t buy a “redemption” from someone who never shows remorse or accepts responsibility.

Note: these quotations weren’t taken from memory, nor did I go back and watch the episodes. They came from the OUAT transcripts found here.

[lastxviolet]

Madripoor is for Lovers (Zemo x F!Reader - Ch. 4

Summary: Y/N is a SWORD agent recruited to help Sam and Bucky track down Karli and the super-soldiers. When Helmut Zemo joins the team, he takes a special interest in her. The friendly union is wrought for disaster, but then things take a turn for the worst when Y/N is taken as collateral. Will Zemo keep her forever? Does she even want to escape? And what happened in Madripoor that made the whole thing so complicated?

Warnings: mention of violence

https://archiveofourown.org/works/32878015/chapters/81589774

Madripoor was lovely until the shootout started.

It was difficult to appreciate the city views or even the night before as the shipyard collapsed around you.

One second you were running through fire and smoke, and the next, searing pain ripped through your bicep. The shrapnel and spewed toxic lab material were an afterthought as you hit the ground, clutching the place where a bullet grazed you.

The pain made it impossible to get up, open your eyes, or care about broken glass scraping your exposed skin. The smoke left you breathless, making the scream in your throat die before it could alert your friends of your location. You thought that maybe you heard Sam yell your name from somewhere far away — too far away.

Your lungs stopped fighting to scream and began the fight for air. Short puffs were all you could manage. Counting them held off the thoughts of your body behind left in Madripoor for only a little bit before your vision tunneled.

A familiar voice wafted through the chaos before darkness took you.

“There you are,” it had said as you felt strong arms lift you from the rubble.

That was all you could remember as you awoke from a hazy dream.

There was pressure on your arm and even with your eyes closed, you sensed the presence of people looming over you. They spoke but a harsh white noise filled your head, drowning out their words.

As the grogginess faded away, reality hit. You were on a plane. There was no mistaking the familiar rocking and engines rumble. A sickening thought hit you. Was this a military plane taking you back home, or Zemo’s private jet again. If your injurers were enough to land you in a hospital Sam would've called for backup, even in Madripoor.

You squeezed your eyes tight, unwilling to return to reality. This could be the moment you woke up and went back to your normal life.

The last week of your life had felt like a dream. Galavanting through Europe with super soldiers, uniting forces with a notorious villain, and forming a makeshift Avengers.

You still couldn’t decide if Zemo’s involvement made it more dream or nightmare. Either way, you didn’t feel ready to give it up. Opening your eyes meant coming to terms with what happened. This morning at breakfast, nerves had made it impossible to eat. You’d been sure that Zemo would make some mention of what the two of you had done. He could use the information against you, or worse, Bucky and Sam.

The thought of their eyes turning on you with disappointment almost made you keep your eyes closed for the rest of the ride but a sharp pain chose for you. The overwhelming throbbing of your arm shot you back into full consciousness. A guttural groan was all you could muster to alert the looming figures of your state.

“She’s back!”

Sam bent into view. From behind him, you saw the pristine accents of the private plane. Your heart fluttered.

They’d brought you with them.

Sam knelt next to the couch you’d been laid out on and placed a hand on your leg.

“How you feeling?”

Your mouth was too dry to speak so you nodded and took in more of your surroundings. The bathroom was near your feet, so you were facing backward.

A blanket weighed you down but you tried to sit up anyway. Sam’s arm shot out and knocked you back. He yanked the blanket up towards your neck and eyed the edge to make sure it reached your chin. The cool air on your back told you that someone had taken your shirt off to get to the wound.

“Nothing I have not seen before.”

The voice flooded your body with heat, making your cheeks burn. For the first time, you turned to see who was tending to your arm.

Zemo stared at Sam with a smile and continued. “From her dress last night, of course.”

That was the voice you’d heard. That was the voice that had saved you.

It wasn’t Sam or Bucky, it was the man they’d told you to hate. He’d come back through the flames, gunfire, and danger to pluck you out of the wreckage and bring you to safety. And now he healed you with his own two hands. He didn’t look you in the eye or acknowledge you at all as he bent his neck to focus on your wound.

You returned your gaze to Sam and spoke before Zemo made any more taunts or innuendos about last night. For now, you were partially certain that he hadn’t told anyone what happened. Sam’s demeanor might be quite different with you if he had.

“What happened?”

“I’ll tell you when we land, you need to rest.”

“I’m fine,” your voice came out as a croak. The room around you spun with the exertion of energy, proving your words false.

Sam chuckled and tapped your shin a few times while exchanging words that you couldn’t hear with Zemo. They leaned close and shared a worried glance before Sam entered the main cabin, closing the sliding door behind him.

You felt Zemo's hands at work but the pain subsided. Something had numbed your arm, or perhaps your brain had done you a favor and cut ties with the nerves there altogether.

Alone again, you stared at him, conscious of your hammering heartbeat and the fact that this was the second time you'd been topless in front of him in 24-hours.

“What are you doing?”

“Listen to your comrade. You need sleep.”

His eyebrows furrowed in concentration, sweat forming on his forehead and upper lip. His face was more flushed than normal, almost as if he’d been running but his breathing wasn’t heavy behind his firmly set jaw.

“Thank you,” you muttered. “For saving me.”

A frustrated sigh was all he responded with.

Of all the expressions you’d seen of his, you couldn’t understand this one. No smirk formed as he worked. And where his eyes usually told you everything you needed to know, all they communicated was his desperate need for sleep.

You choked a few words out to quell the tension and distract your mind.

“Were you a medic?”

He shook his head. “Our army did not have enough enlisted for such distinction. I was a commander but we had to learn everything.”

“Commander,” you repeated. “Baron. Quite the collection of titles.”

You smiled and raised your eyebrows in jest, noticing that you felt lighter than before. An odd giddy feeling bloomed in your chest, despite the dull pain. He must have given you some sort of pain medication before you woke up.

The drugs continued for you. “I’m just an anomaly investigator so I don’t know how to do all that.”

“I’m sure you could learn.”

“I’d need a teacher.”

He hung his head and you adverted your eyes. Even without the oncoming haziness from the drugs, you knew that this little game of flirtations should stop. You opened your mouth to change the subject but he beat you to it.

“I’m not sure we have enough time.” His voice had a twinge of sadness as he spoke the truth.

Eventually, you’d part ways and the world would be better for it. The mission would be over and he’d have less to worry about with the super-soldier serum destroyed.

“Well, who knows how long it will take to catch Karli and…”

He flashed you a somber look and your voice caught in your throat. He wasn’t talking about the mission. He was talking about the two of you.

That's right. Reality came back into full force then, knocking sense into your head.

He was a criminal who'd be locked up for the rest of his days and you would go back to your full-time job, fighting people like him.

It shouldn’t have been as big of a blow as it was, because you’d only known each other a few days. If the drugs and exhaustion weren’t keeping you firmly in place under the threat of passing out again, you’d run as far away from this man as you could.

He was a criminal. He was not to be trusted.

But he’d saved your life.

He didn’t have to, in fact, it didn’t make an iota of sense that he did. But the words he’d whispered on the balcony floated back to you.

Had he meant it all?

His strained voice invaded your pestering thoughts.

“Suffering by nature or chance never seems so painful as suffering inflicted on us by the arbitrary will of another,” he said, caressing your bare skin one last time before tucking your arm underneath the blanket. “Do you know who said that?”

You shook your head, ruffling your hair with the pillow.

“Arthur Schopenhauer. The philosopher of pessimism.”

The fresh stitches scratched against the fabric as you turned towards him.

“A terrible choice for a man in prison,” you whispered.

He played with a roll of gauze in his hands, turning it over and over. The muscles of his jaw flexed and clenched as he sorted through his thoughts before speaking.

“Is it surprising though? For a man with a life sentence?”

He met your eyes then. The hard glare almost made you flinch.

Your heart ached for him. You knew firsthand the harm the Avenger had caused, but you also knew it could’ve been worse. The eradication of Sokovia had been to avoid the destruction of the world. But that had been his family, his home, his world. You knew his vision had tunneled because of what he’d gone through. A smart, military man knew the cost of peace but resented who had to pay.

Did he not think that was what everyone who had to pull a trigger in the name of peace thought of? Did he think that made him different from the Avengers?

Again, the drugs moved your mouth before you could think better of your words.

“Maybe we can push for better arrangements? Your assistance to the US must count for something —“

He raised his hand to silence you before you could finish the thought.

“That opportunity passed as soon as you assisted my escape. You know, as well as I how this will end. It is not the United States that is most concerned with my sentence but those who are will insist upon a worse cell, where they do not negotiate for amenities or comfort.”

Your stomach dropped with the realization. “The Raft.”

He was right. You knew he was. In all the chaos, Wakanda hadn’t crossed your mind, but this was a betrayal of mass proportions. His life sentence was their revenge and they wouldn’t take his brief freedom lightly. You couldn’t blame them of course. He’d assassinated their king in cold blood, in front of the world.

Prison had seemed like a joke to him before. When you’d first spoken to him in his cell with Bucky, it almost seemed amusing. Now the weight of his reality seemed to have set in. You wondered what changed.

“Do you not think you deserve it…your sentence?”

He squinted and stared over your head towards the windows. “That is not the question.”

His words felt the same as the bullet that had hit your arm; sharp, and perfectly aimed.

Normally your banter felt like a dance. There was no point to get across, or set path. You simply swayed back and forth, feeling each other out. But this time, it felt like he had something to say but was unwilling to go through the elegant waltz that you usually did.

The realization struck like lightning.

“Whether you’ll serve it,” you asked hesitantly, hoping for the first time in your conversations with him that you were wrong. His eyes gave nothing away but the hint of a smirk ghosted his lips.

Warning bells rang in your head, overwhelming your thoughts and any willpower to be careful with your words.

“Helmut, you’d be insane to escape the raft and even crazier to tell me about it.”

His eyes widened at the sound of his name.

“But I am not in the raft, am I?”

You stared at him in silence, failing to hide your angry expression.

“Perhaps, I never will be,” he finished with a raise of his eyebrows.

There it was.

He flinched as you brought your good arm up to swat his leg.

“Why would you say that,” you hissed.

He caught your hand, lowering it back down to your side. His fingers lingered around yours, caressing the back of your hand in a random pattern. It was then his smirk reappeared. Whether it was because of how your fingers gravitated towards his, or your anger, was unclear.

“I thought you might like to know.”

You shook your head and dropped his hand. “You’re insane.”

The Zemo that everyone else knew returned right before your eyes. He lived to taunt everyone and everything. You’d only ever seen the mask drop for you but now it was back up.

“No heavy lifting for a while, yes?”

The change in his voice was a show for the others as he stood and spoke loud enough to fill the cabin.

To hell with the pain. You ripped off the blankets and sat up. Thankfully, you’d been mistaken before, you weren’t topless, a thin sports bra kept you from being exposed.

“Zemo —”

“I do think it will heal in a few days —”

“— that would get you killed.”

He busied himself with something and paid you no mind as he spoke.

“— so the hospital in Riga won’t be necessary.”

You used the rest of your energy to shove him. Hard. All your strength went into it. All your frustration with his past decisions that separated you and the future ones that might keep him from you still. There was no way for you to be together and so you put all the maddening anguish into his back.

He hardly registered the blow as he spun, bringing his face inches from yours.

“Do you plan to be a criminal for the rest of your life? Is being on the run better than serving time for something you did?”

His eyes kept his concerned doctor mask for a second and then you saw the damn break. His iris’s widened, making an angry abyss of his warm eyes. You had no choice but to sit back down as he marched forward and braced an arm on the back of the couch, hovering over you.

“Something I did?” He asked in a dangerous tone.

You held his gaze and sunk into the cushions. Fear. You should’ve felt fear but a familiar heat rose from between your legs. You willed it away and focused on his quirked mouth, almost quivering with anger.

“Was it I who destroyed a country — thousands of lives? I, who created that hellish serum that makes gods out of man? I, who unleashed them on the world without a leash?”

He paused and leaned closer, waiting for an answer.

“No,” you whispered.

“One man receives life in prison while a band of thugs runs free, wreaking havoc on earth and calling it justice. They are your friends, are they not? That is your side. So why would you, S.W.O.R.D agent, fighter for the United States, Avenger, care about my sentence?”

His nostrils flared as he hissed and anger burned in his eyes. You could’ve retreated from the accusation that you were the same as those you worked with. But it wasn’t true. It might have been foolish to think that you knew him but the delusion made you speak softy, and tame the beast.

“Because I know what you’re doing.”

He flinched at the words, offended by the meaning and delicate tone. Again, you wondered the last person to show him any kindness or regard him with gentle eyes.

“Enlighten me about what you think you know.”

His jaw was tense when you brought your face closer to his and spoke in nothing more than a whisper.

“You obsess over revenge in the hopes that it will fill the holes in your heart left by loss. I know that you think keeping yourself distracted will heal you but it’s not true. The harder you run away from all that pain, the worse it’ll be when it finally catches up.”

There was more anger in his face when you finished than there was when you started. He stood and straightened his jacket before clearing his throat, unwilling to let you finish.

You tried to get up and follow but blood rushed to your head as soon as you stood up. The room spun and your vision tunneled. The roar of white noise washed over you again, threatening to send you back into unconsciousness.

Steady hands were on you in an instant, making sure you didn’t fall. Despite everything, Zemo reached out and folded you into his chest. One arm looped around your waist, and the other tentatively held up your injury.

“Lie down, liebling,” he whispered, not looking you in the eye.

He laid you down and pulled the blanket back up to cover your torso. You tried to focus by counting your breaths and watching the man who made good on his promise to be sweet as he looked for something in his bag.

He came close again and silently helped you pull one of his sweaters over your head. You hissed in pain as he straightened your arm through the sleeve and he made a disapproving look as if it hurt him as well.

He stood to leave but you held onto his wrist.

“Distractions won’t heal you, Helmut. Nothing — no one can,” you said through the haze, searching for him in your clouded vision. “Only you.”

You meant it, deeply. Even though you longed to be someone that could put broken things back together. You meant it, despite knowing that it wasn’t what he wanted to hear.

Zemo withdrew from your space and sat the chair opposite, watching you from afar as the plane began its descent. The words he’d said when he’d found you played over and over in your head as you watched him too. His expression was thoughtful and less angry than before. He looked to be mulling something over, and you wondered if your words had made a difference but it was impossible to tell. Sleep threatened to take you again, but you fought it off, opting for a staring contest with the man you couldn’t ever seem to figure out.

It wasn’t until the plane was safely on the ground that Zemo moved.

He crossed the plane to you like a rubber band being flung across the room before tucking one arm underneath your shoulder blades and the other under your knees, scooping you into a bridal carry. Eyes level now, he drew in close and pressed a kiss to your cheek.

“You underestimate yourself,” was all he said before walking out into the cabin, towards the exit.

The door opened before you could object and both Sam and Bucky’s faces fell immediately.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

Zemo ignored Bucky’s protest and pushed through them to descend the stairs. The sun was too bright so you shut your eyes and leaned into the man holding you. The man who had admitted that you might be enough to heal him. Your heart ached at the impossibility of it but you let yourself live in the fantasy for a little longer.

“James, are you not a gentleman?”

“She hurt her arm, she can walk fine,” Bucky yelled from behind you, stomping down the stairs.

Zemo’s chest rumbled as he spoke. “The question is not can she do it, but whether she should have to.”

Sam piped up, his voice exhausted from the journey. “Put her down, Zemo.”

The man didn’t listen, of course, and crossed the tarmac before setting you down gently a step away from the opened car door. You hobbled in and looked him in the eyes a final time. He no longer looked to be mulling over his thoughts, but rather, like he’d decided something.

“Chivalry may not be dead but it does seem to have many enemies,” he said with a wink, before closing the door.

[egg-emperor]

No hate to the anon that sent it but I love how they talk about the government being willing to gun down a child seeking worse than Eggman when he’s tried it multiple times lol

GUN has done a lot of bad things on their own but it’s nothing that Eggman hasn’t already tried

No hate at all to the anon from me either but yeah lol, Eggman has canonically intentionally endangered and attempted to kill multiple kids. Furthermore, who knows how many would've been killed if he'd succeeded in blowing up Station Square, and who knows how many have been caught up in the catastrophic worldwide destruction and collateral damage of his plans, making his apathy towards it even darker. It surprises me how often it's downplayed and overlooked.

And that brings me back to another thought on the subject of saying that others are worse than Eggman- That's the thing with a lot of other characters that have done bad things/are villains in the series too. When there's an attempt to make him seem like better man/them as the eviller ones, the points raised are always just things that Eggman has already done, is just as capable of doing, or would also do himself in order to get what he wants.

I've discussed that Eggman doesn't have morals that could prevent him from doing the most selfish and seriously fucked up things to get what he wants. Also about how he has almost no limits for how far he will go in his plans as he will manipulate, destroy, and kill to get what he wants without an ounce of hesitation or remorse. He's a seriously dangerous threat and nobody is truly safe from him, he isn't above doing some of the most sick fucked up shit.

His only limit that we've seen him have in the games is destroying the world entirely for obvious reasons, as it needs to exist for him to rule. And even then, it's a deeply selfish reason that stops him and he doesn't care what happens to the actual people within it or even the state of it as long as he's safe and he can still conquer it. He isn't lesser evil than the bad guys that do want to destroy it entirely, it's just that his goals are more original and creative than that lol

He'll still willingly cause immense amounts of deadly destruction to the world to get what he wants and it shouldn't be downplayed in comparison. His plans still result in tons of damage and pollution that can kill people, wildlife, and harm the environment. He's so determined to get what he wants that he'll do whatever it takes, causing countless deaths through global destruction, as long as it's there to conquer. He's manipulative, murderous, destructive, and ruthless.

And I think it's more evil for him to do loads of fucked up shit but still keep the world intact so everyone suffers, rather than the whole world just being destroyed and having that be the end of it. With the world still existing, people have to hurt and suffer so he can accomplish his goals and he doesn't care at how many people he kills or traumatizes. Now that's some gloriously fucked up shit from a very handsome evil bastard 💜

[dessarious]

Guilt and Consequences

Okay, so this is just something that wouldn’t leave me alone. It has absolutely nothing to do with my other fics and may actually be a one shot. (We all know that’s not something I do but hey I can hope). Anyway, I’ve always hated the way Lila’s character was done. For so many reasons. The biggest issue I had was that there’s never any explanation for her personality. Sure, there is a small percentage of people that are straight up evil, but not many and it’s lazy writing to make a character, villain or otherwise, with absolutely no reason to be the way they are. If you’re not going to flesh out a character don’t make them a focal point period. Okay I’ll stop ranting now. This is in no way canon, nor is it meant to be.

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AO3   Next

“You told her what?!” Adrien flinched as Lila yelled in his face but she didn’t care. This idiot had completely destroyed all her plans with no thought what so ever. How had things gotten so bad?

“It doesn’t do any good to put more pressure on the situation. I told Marinette that you’d come around once you got the attention you wanted, so she should just let it go. Take the high road.” She was dangerously close to punching him in his sanctimonious face. The only thing stopping her was that getting arrested for assault wasn’t something she wanted to experience right now. Not to mention she now had to try and fix this insanity.

“That is quite possibly the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard. Ignoring things may work with paparazzi but that is not how you should deal with anything else. More often than not ignoring a problem just makes it worse.

“I’ve been ignoring Chloe’s bad behavior for years and she’s getting better.” Lila felt like her head was going to explode. As good as Adrien was in science he apparently didn’t understand causal relationships. The boy was far too dense to survive in the real world.

“As I understand things, Chloe didn’t start improving until Marinette stood up to her and Ladybug called her out on her bad behavior. Your enabling simply allowed her to continue what she was doing without consequences. People don’t change without a reason Adrien. Most need a pretty enticing incentive to do anything out of the norm.” She couldn’t deal with this anymore. Lila knew that she wasn’t going to make him see the error in his thinking. Everyone thought of Adrien as a ray of sunshine but she’d seen first hand how hard he held onto ideas even when all the evidence pointed to the opposite conclusion. Instead she turned and walked away as he yelled justifications at her back. She knew he wouldn’t actually follow her because his ride should be there any second. He wouldn’t risk getting in trouble, no matter how much he wanted her to agree with him.

She didn’t even know where she was going at this point, just wandering randomly while she thought. Everything had gotten so out of hand. Nothing like this had ever happened to her before and she had absolutely no idea how to fix it, or even if it could be fixed. She didn’t think so. It’s like the perfect storm of stupid, incompetence, and compliance had coalesced into this mass of insanity that she couldn’t see a way out of. Why did everything have to be so complicated? She’d done the same thing dozens of times with the exact same result. Why did things have to turn out so differently this time?

Before she knew it Lila was standing in front of a building she had no wish to enter. She knew she had to, but honestly she would rather step into traffic. Still, if there was any hope of salvaging things this was where she had to start. She just hoped she’d be able to get out some sort of explanation before they threw her out. She took a deep breath before opening the door.

“Good morning! What can I do for you dear?” Lila hesitated. Surely Marinette had told her parents about what was going on, right?

“Madam, my name is Lila Rossi. I was hoping to talk to Marinette.” There was absolutely no recognition in the woman's eyes. What the hell kind of alternate reality was she in? From everything she could gather Marinette had a great relationship with her parents. Even if she had let Adrien talk her into staying quiet at school, why would she hide what was going on from them?

“Of course, and you can call me Sabine dear, no need to be so formal.” She followed as Sabine led her up the stairs at the back of the bakery and into a little apartment. Lila had lived in a lot of places, but not one of them had ever said home the way this tiny space did. “Marinette’s room is up there. I have to get back down to the bakery, just knock before you go in.” Lila could only stare at the woman’s retreating back in panic. There was no way Marinette wanted her of all people anywhere near her room. She’d expected Sabine to get her to come out here. She looked back at the trapdoor with no idea how to proceed.

Eventually she worked up the nerve to climb the stairs. A few minutes and many attempts later, she managed a timid knock. There was a muffled ‘come in’ and Lila almost had a heart attack. Now what? Against her better judgement she slowly opened the door and poked her head up. She saw Marinette hunched over her sewing machine, not paying any attention to who had entered. But what caught her attention was the bruise on Marinette’s cheek and a strip of gauze around her forehead. Lila’s anger from earlier reignited with a passion and before she knew it she was in the room standing directly behind the girl.

“How could you listen to that moron’s advice?” She winced the moment the words came out of her mouth. That was not how she wanted to start this. Marinette jumped and actually fell off the chair. Lila flinched back at the fear in the girls eyes when they registered who she was.

“Wh- What are you doing here?” Marinette’s eyes were darting every which way, looking for escape routes or something to defend herself with most likely. It hurt knowing that this was all her fault.

“I… I didn’t mean to scare you.” Then why did you yell at her dumbass? “I’m here because…” Why exactly was she here? She really should have planned this out, or at least had any idea of what she was going to say. “I’m here because I need to apologize to you, and I think you deserve an explanation for why I apparently destroyed your life.” Marinette’s eyes widened in shock and disbelief. Lila couldn’t blame her.

“You want to apologize to me?” The skeptical tone caused her to break eye contact. It was well deserved but Lila didn’t even know where to start. She was a selfish creature by nature so apologies didn’t come naturally, but this was something that needed to be done.

“Yes. I’m sorry for everything that’s happened to you because of me. I never thought…” She couldn’t continue. No apology and no explanation was good enough for what Marinette had gone through because of this mess. Lila didn’t even know everything because apparently the class had been bullying Marinette for over a month but they’d kept it from her because she was too ‘nice’ and wouldn’t have approved. How did you even begin to make up for something like that?

“You never thought what? That your plan to take away all my friends would affect me? That you making my school life a living hell would hurt me?” The girl sounded pissed and Lila couldn’t blame her but the tone sent her into her defensive mode anyway.

“I never thought anyone would believe the garbage coming out of my mouth!” Marinette blinked at her in confusion, all the fight suddenly gone.

“What?” Lila sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. Where did she even start? None of this was going to make sense to Marinette. Honestly she wasn’t certain it made sense to her anymore either.

“I should probably start at the beginning.” Marinette motioned her to continue. “My mom is a diplomat, that wasn’t a lie. She’s something of a fixer. Basically when a situation has escalated too far they bring her in to smooth things over. Because of that she gets moved a lot more often than most. I think the longest we’ve lived in one place is about nine months.”

“And that makes it okay for you to lie and bully people for no reason?” Bully? She hadn’t considered that before. From Marinette’s perspective she understood why she said it though. Especially after the bathroom incident. Lila winced.

“I didn’t mean to… The lying has a purpose but I’ve never had to escalate things before. It’s not an excuse, I should have considered things better. I just…” She just what? She’d just been so focused on her goal that she hadn’t bothered to look at the collateral damage. Hadn’t even considered that there would be. “Look just let me explain, then you can yell at me.” If she didn’t get this out now she wasn’t sure she’d be able to.

“Fine.” Lila shifted nervously as Marinette’s full attention was focused on listening to her. Having that much animosity directed at her was extremely uncomfortable.

“So when I was little the moves were more frequent. Because of that my mother hired tutors and enrolled me in online classes rather than try to attend school. There didn’t seem to be any point in having me adapt to a new place and teachers every couple of months. About three years ago things slowed down a little and she decided it would be good for me to socialize with other kids. Despite my best efforts, I was enrolled in school. I hated it.” That was a vast understatement. The curriculum wasn’t advanced enough and the kids were all immature and annoying. The teachers were boring too. Not to mention that she was used to learning at her own pace and having the ability to choose subjects that actually interested her. School was basically torture.

“I wasn’t happy and told my mother so but she thought I just needed time to adjust so she basically told me to suck it up and deal with it.” She’d had a perfectly researched and reasoned argument but her mother wouldn’t even listen to her. “A couple days later a boy was annoying me. He refused to leave me alone after I’d told him many times to stop and eventually I snapped and punched him in the nose.” It had felt really good at the time.

“Really?” Marinette sounded somewhere between horrified and amused and was obviously trying to keep a straight face.

“Really. I was sent to the principal and he called my mother. I was expelled because they had a zero tolerance policy for violence. My mother was not happy with me and lectured me about solving my problems in a different way, but she let me homeschool again because she wasn’t certain how long we’d be there and didn’t want to go through the effort of finding another school. I thought I’d won, until the next time we moved and she put me in school again.” Once again she’d argued to be allowed to stay with homeschooling. Once again her mother had ignored her.

“Let me guess, you just walked up and punched someone the first day?” Lila let out a snort of amusement and shook her head.

“No. Mother made it very clear that physical violence had far too many repercussions, so I had to get creative. I read the school rules trying to find the easiest way to get thrown out. I tried disrupting class constantly, but that just landed me in detention. So then I tried stealing. That got me thrown out quickly enough, but it also could have had legal ramifications that I didn’t understand at the time. My mother made it very clear to me after though.” Yet another fun conversation where her mother talked at her and wouldn’t let her get a word in edgewise. Lila couldn’t understand how she could be such a good diplomat and still have no idea how to listen to her own daughter.

“So you got to homeschool again?” She blinked at Marinette for a moment before nodding. She’d gotten lost in her own thoughts. “But I’m going to assume it didn’t last.”

“No. Every time we move she tries again. I don’t understand why she bothers. The next few schools I refined my technique. I found out that lying was the easiest and least complicated way to get thrown out quickly. They just don’t want to deal with it. Each school has slightly different thresholds but I found that obvious misinformation coupled with lying about medical conditions usually got me back home within a week. I thought I had it down to a science, until we moved here.”

“So wait… you’ve just been trying to get expelled this entire time?” Marinette was looking at her like she’d grown another head. Lila wasn’t surprised. To anyone else what she did sounded insane and maybe it was a little. But it worked and she was a very results driven person. “What about the Akumatizations?”

“What about them?” Lila couldn’t figure out what that had to do with anything.

“If you wanted to be found out, why were you so upset you became Volpina and Chameleon?” Lila winced. She’d watched the limited footage and remembered how she’d reacted after. She’d been disoriented and confused and had just lashed out.

“I was expecting Adrien to call me out. The necklace I showed him came from his father’s line after all. I misjudged how involved he was in the industry apparently. I wasn’t expecting or prepared for an actual Superhero to call me out. I’ll admit I reacted badly, but in my defense I didn’t know then how little it took for Hawkmoth to Akumatize someone.” That had been a less than pleasant realization. Maybe she should try and apologize to Ladybug after this as well. It wasn’t the hero’s fault that Lila couldn’t deal with normal social interaction and lashed out when she felt threatened.

“And Chameleon?” Lila winced at the soft question. She still didn’t know what she’d been thinking when she’d threatened Marinette. Well that wasn’t completely true but she didn’t realize how far she’d gone until she saw the Akuma.

“You were the only person who seemed to have a spine and didn’t believe the bullshit I came up with. I was trying to push you into reporting me to the teacher or convincing everyone else that I was lying. I’ve never been in a situation where people actually thought that my lies were real before. Looking back it was a stupid thing to do.” And wasn’t that an understatement. “After I left I realized how harsh I’d been and was coming back to make sure you were okay when the Akuma phased through the wall and straight into me. Apparently my being mad at myself for overreacting was enough to let him in, again.”

“Why keep lying though? You had to have realized it wasn’t working at some point so why keep doing it?” That was a really good question and she didn’t have a good answer. Lila ran a hand through her hair in frustration.

“At first I thought that I just needed bigger lies. I also expected the teacher or principal to call my mother and verify the ‘disabilities’ I said I had. Other than that I guess it was just habit. It’s what I’ve always done in that situation and I didn’t know what else to do if I’m being honest. Everyday I’d tell myself that today was when everyone would see through the bullshit. That’s also why I started lying about you.” Once again, in hindsight it was an extremely stupid move. Marinette looked confused.

“You’ve been lying to the class about me thinking it would make them realize what you were doing?” Yeah, it was a really stupid plan.

“Yes. I did my research. Everyone loved you. You were the class rep for crying out loud! I thought that lying about you would get them to at least think things through. I mean they’re supposed to be your friends. They’re supposed to know your character well enough to question it when someone says you’re doing something so completely off track from your normal. I didn’t expect them to believe me without question and I absolutely didn’t expect them to retaliate and hide it from me.”

Marinette’s head snapped up in shock. She was looking for something in Lila’s eyes but Lila wasn’t sure what it was. The girl's expression softened suddenly and before she knew it, Lila was on the receiving end of a crushing hug. What the hell?

“If you’re trying to suffocate me there are easier ways to do it.” The words just popped out and Lila winced again. So maybe her mom had a point about her needing more social interaction. It still didn’t mean she should be forced to endure school. She felt Marinette let out an amused huff and pulled back.

“So what brought on this need to come clean?” Lila’s eyes automatically went to Marinette’s injuries before snapping away to the wall.

“Alya slipped and told me what they did last night. I went to Adrien first since he knew Ladybug called me out to try and get him to make the others see sense, or at least help you protect yourself. That’s when he told me what he said to you.” She felt her anger resurfacing just thinking about that conversation.

“That’s what you meant.” Lila just blinked at Marinette in confusion. “When you first got here you yelled at me about taking a moron’s advice.” Lila winced at the reminder but nodded. “Apparently you’re not the only one prone to making mistakes and snap judgments.” Her tone was dry but still held a trace of amusement. Lila wasn’t certain what to make of it.

“I’ll text my mother and have her come here after work so I can explain what’s going on to her and your parents.” It was the least she could do. There was no way to fix this, but at least she could come clean.

“You can’t do that! What if one of them gets Akumatized over it?” Lila just frowned at Marinette. She couldn’t be serious. Her worried expression said otherwise.

“You can’t keep letting people hurt you because you’re scared how they’ll react. Hawkmoth is going to keep using people and that’s not your fault. It’s not your job to make everyone happy, especially not at the expense of your physical and mental well being. They need to know what’s going on so you can get out of that toxic school environment.” Marinette actually rolled her eyes.

“Just because you don’t like school doesn’t mean it’s a toxic environment.” Lila stared at her in shock. Marinette was serious. The phrase ‘what the hell’ was quickly becoming her new mantra.

“You’re kidding right? Your teacher avoids her job at all costs by making the class police itself. She blames the victims for things they have no control over because it’s easier than actually confronting someone. The principal hasn’t once tried to call my mother to verify absences or illness. That’s not even including your classmates who have gone full Lord of the Flies over a bunch of lies.” How could she possibly think any of this was okay? Marinette seemed confused as she mulled over Lila’s words. How long had this shit been going on?

“I suppose it may seem that way to someone walking into it, but I think your prejudice against school in general is part of your viewpoint. Things have always worked themselves out before and I’m sure everyone will come around eventually.” She was going to have an aneurysm. Apparently Marinette was just as bad as Adrien at holding on to things despite the evidence. She reached out and gently touched the gauze on Marinette’s forehead.

“They could have killed you. Alya especially is prone to acting without thinking things through or caring about the consequences. It’s why she posted all those ridiculous interviews. Honestly I’m surprised she hasn’t been sued yet. I took care of the site though.” She wasn’t even paying attention to the words coming out of her mouth, too focused on where Marinette’s blood was seeping through. This was all her fault.

“What do you mean you took care of the site?” Marinette’s tone was off but she couldn’t place the tone.

“Hacking is one of the things that I actually like doing. I took down everything with me and purged it from her harddrive. I also took down that stupid picture of Ladybug and Chat kissing after Oblivio. It’s not much but it’s as much of an apology I could manage to Ladybug even if she never knows who did it.” Alya had ranted for days about the Heroine’s denial. It was beyond annoying at the time.

“Why do you want to apologize to Ladybug?” Lila blinked at her before letting out a sigh.

“After my Akumatizations I said some things… let’s just say I wasn’t in a great headspace. I tend to go feral when I feel threatened. Add that to the whole lying and keeping in character to get expelled… She has enough to deal with without hormonal teenagers mouthing off at her.” Marinette was studying her again and Lila couldn’t read her expression at all. It made her more nervous than she would have thought.

“I still don’t think we should tell our parents. Maybe we can turn things around ourselves.” Damn it. The girl was out of her mind.

“That school is a breeding ground for bullies and narcissists. The administration needs to be held accountable for their neglect or who knows how many others could get hurt. There needs to be consequences or things will never change.” There was no way they could fix this themselves. She wasn’t even sure teams of lawyers and therapists could fix this at this point. Marinette was frowning again. Lila wanted to convince her this was the right thing, but if push came to shove she would tell the Dupain-Chengs the truth so they could do something about this. Her mother would just want to bury it to keep Lila out of trouble. Marinette’s parents would do what they had to to protect their daughter, at least she hoped they would.

“I don’t want anyone else getting hurt… Maybe we can talk to the principal. If we say we’re going to look into a lawsuit or call the police, maybe he’ll change.” Lila rolled her eyes.

“He won’t take anything seriously coming from two teenagers. Look, I realize your self preservation instincts aren’t very strong but you need to tell your parents what’s going on. If nothing else you can transfer schools. Honestly, you probably should.” She looked devastated at the thought and Lila’s guilt came back full force. She knew that she couldn’t control the actions of others, but if she hadn’t worked them up they never would have gone after Marinette of all people. They say ignorance is bliss for a reason. Marinette probably would have been perfectly happy not knowing what her classmates were capable of.

“I can’t just leave my friends.”

“What friends? The only person who has bothered to tell me to back off is Chloe. Something about you being more fun to square off with when you actually have a spine.” That girl was at least what she seemed. Lila could respect that far more than Adrien’s fake personality. In his defense she didn’t think he was doing it out of spite, he’d just been playing a part most of his life and probably had no idea who he was, let alone how to be himself.

“They didn’t mean it. I’m sure once they understand the situation they’ll calm down.” There had to be a way to get through to her, but Lila was getting far too frustrated to think things through properly. As usual, her mouth went into gear before her brain.

“If we tell them what’s going on now they’ll just transfer all that anger to me, assuming they don’t think you threatened me into backing up your story that is. Sadly, I have a feeling that it’ll be the second.” She would be fine with the first honestly. It would give her a reason to have her mother pull her out of school. Unfortunately given the class’s track record she couldn’t chance it. Alya could easily whip everyone else into a frenzy if she decided Marinette was forcing Lila to back her version of events. The girl hadn’t been able to find the truth yet so there was no reason to think she would come to her senses now.

“I suppose you’re right. I wouldn’t want them going after you.” She couldn’t have heard that right.

“What?”

“What you did was wrong but you don’t deserve to be bullied for it. I don’t want to be part of the reason that would happen.” Her supposed friends attacking her didn’t phase her at all, but the thought of those same friends bullying the person who’d set them on her in the first place caused her to pause. Lila would never understand that mindset.

“So can we at least talk to your parents about what’s happening? This has gone way past too far and I really don’t think we’ll be able to stop it by ourselves. Please.” Marinette finally nodded and Lila felt a tightness in her chest loosen. It wasn’t enough, but it was a start. 

AO3   Next

[fortheloveoffanfic]

Heaven, Hell and You

John Constantine x OFC (Valerie Moore) (A/n- been working on this for a while so please be gentle. Should run for approx. 10 chapters)

Warnings- Violence, mentions of mental health.

Masterlist     *masterlist for this series coming later.

Chapter 1

He could feel the dread in his bones, and being caught in the middle of a war that no one had prepared for was turning out to be unlike anything he’d ever experienced. He supposed it had been a long time coming though; the  whispers had long started growing louder and the things lurking in the shadows had slowly found their way to light; growing bolder by the day. Angels and demons alike. Most of the time, they looked so human, it was hard to tell, but John could see, he could always see. He could see then too.

“She’s mine,” the disfigured creature hissed, its face half deteriorated, looking sickeningly decayed. It’s clothes were tattered form the battle that had, for a reason that he couldn't distinguish, been put on hold and the half breed seemed almost broken in the back, hunched over and possibly minutes away from returning from where it had come. Still though, it was willing to put up a fight, and even if it had perished, by his, or anyone else’s hand, John knew more would come, hell seemed to be spitting them out by the dozens by then.

“Yours?” An angel, one he wasn’t readily familiar with, chuckled wearily, flexing her wings as a show of unwavering strength, brandishing her blood stained sword offensively, so close to the demon’s face that it had to step back to evade an ending slice, “Can’t you see? She doesn’t belong with filth like you, her home is with us. Surrender now and I might be obliged to let you and the rest of your army live.” The angel, clad in her ruined garment seemed more willing to fight, more able too, than her demonic opponent, and already, John could tell that soon, they’d be at it again.

The funny thing was, John thought as he spectated, was that he couldn’t really tell where he stood, mentally or physically. Instead, he felt like an inactive participant, observing the destroyed streets of downtown Los Angeles from a window or television screen. No voice, no ability to impact the outcomes, not even visible. Though, he could hear and see perfectly, right from where he was, wherever that may be.

“Never,” the bitter conversation in the distance carried on as if he weren't even there, “She’s ours, her mother is one of us,” the demon reared back again when the angel took another swipe at it, its steps barely evading what was left of a hellish corpse. For the briefest second, John took his eyes off the exchange, drinking in his surroundings, his mouth falling open as he finally realized the devastation. It was as if heaven and hell had faced a gory collision, right there on earth. Corpses laid strewn on the streets and sidewalks, broken wings behind perished angels, mangled bodies of dead demons, and worst of all, dozens of humans, all caught in the crossfire, now gone, committed to either eternal plane all because they’d been collateral damage. The sweltering air was thick with the stench of charred flesh and pungent sulfur, turning his stomach. Smoke from burning buildings gave the atmosphere a hazy tint while the remaining flames lapped at the starless, moonless sky, almost begging for mercy from a god that wasn’t going to give it.

God was a kid with an ant farm, and now, the ant farm was burning and he couldn’t give a shit.

The angel chuckled, a slight breeze blowing her auburn locks forward as she shook her head, “And her father is of us. She is more him than her wretched mother,” she spat, as if the words had left the foulest taste on her divine tongue. 

The demon’s laugh was reminiscent of a hacking cough, “Of you?” Cracking it’s neck and shrugging shoulders, John could tell that hell wasn’t about to toss in the towel that soon, “Her father should have become a fallen, but I suppose that being daddy’s favorite has always had its perks. But it doesn’t matter, he forsook her, left her for dead. And it would be in your favor to forsake the girl too.”

There was no use in trying to work out who the subject of their conversation, because John didn’t have the slightest clue. Just then though, a voice caught his attention from behind a pile of rubble, small and shaking with fear, “Help me,” she sobbed softly, causing him to turn, only just realizing that he too was caught in the disrepair. Tilting his head, John turned fully, bending slightly to get a better look of her. She was young and he could tell that beneath the blood and soot streaking her face and matting her dark hair, she was beautiful. Full lips quivered as she continued, and the lower one still shone with fresh blood from a nasty split, “Please help me,” tears joined the mess on her cheeks, and in an instant, John was hurrying to her side, melting at her helplessness.

“They’re looking for you?” he held her at the shoulders, her torn blouse allowing him to feel the softness of her milky skin, so silky and warm. He’d never seen beauty like hers, so ethereal, though with a darkness in her eyes that may suggest that there was more than what met the eyes. 

Nodding, her breath hitched and she sniffled, “But I don’t know why. Please help me,” when a set of footsteps drew closer to where they were hiding, the young woman grabbed John’s biceps, her nails digging into the white fabric of his dress shirt, “Please-”

A boney, yellowish hand with mangled fingers reached out, grabbing the nameless woman by the back of her torn blouse, hosting her up like she weighed nothing. On instinct, John reached out for her flailing hands, hoping to tug her back to him and buy her, at the very least, a few more minutes. Barely, he caught the tips of her fingers, feeling her nails graze his palms, but none of it lasted too long, and soon, she was tucked hastily to a demon’s chest, wails escaping her plump, pink lips, “No!” She screamed, still reaching out for him.

John awoke with a startle, shooting up in the darkness, hair stuck to his face and chest dominated with heavy breaths. For a minute, he’d thought he was still with the girl, and with a yell, he lunged forward, hoping to grab her, but when he was met with nothing but air, John realized his true surroundings. He was at home, in his bed, tangled in the thin sheets and all alone.

Drenched and frenzied, John lingered there for a minute more before shoving the covers off his legs and shuffling out of bed, headed for the kitchen, barely noting that he’d perspired through the sheets. He knew the loft by heart, and in no time, after expertly evading pieces of his rickety furniture, he was at the kitchen sink, grabbing a glass off the counter and filling it with tap water before downing the entire thing in one go. Before that, his mouth had felt as if he’d just spat out a fistful of cotton, dry and uncomfortable, and as John refilled the glass, he tried to push the memories of his all to vivid dream away.

He’d been having it so often, or at least, ones like it. The city was always in ruins, there was always a war between hell and heaven, and the final common variable was the girl. The gorgeous girl whose name John didn’t know. In every version, she’d clung to him for dear life, and in every version, he’d failed her, always left helpless as she was claimed by one side or the other. Angie, when he’d mentioned it once, had told him that he should probably see a therapist or something, that the dreams were probably just a manifestation of his guilt now that he was trying to turn his life around. But what the hell did she know?

Of course, John didn’t have the slightest clue on what to make of the dreams, but he did know two things for sure; he didn’t need a therapist and he should probably stop drinking before bed.

“Valerie…..”

“Huh?” She turned, looking up the dim corridor, trying to suppress the frightened shiver that had run up her spine upon seeing that there was no one behind her. “Okay Val, you’re just hearing things. There’s nothing there,” her whispered reassurances did nothing to comfort her, and as Valerie neared the elevator,  her quick walk turned into a full on jog. 

She always hated working that late, but it wasn’t an occurrence she could avoid anyway, especially when her bills were continuously piling higher, her debt sinking her deeper and the only way out of it was by taking on extra shifts when she could get them. Breathlessly, Valerie slipped into the elevator, pretending that she didn’t notice the eerie flickering of the hall lights just as the fading doors hummed closed. Hastily, she hit the knob that would take her to the underground parking lot, hoping the ride down would go by faster than usual. At least when she got home, she’d know for sure that she was the only one there and that the only creepy voice taunting her, was the one in her head. 

Or, so she thought. 

Finally, when the doors opened, with her keys already in hand, she started the trek to her car, hoping to put the hospital in her rearview as soon as possible. That was when she heard it again, “Valerie……” It had been louder that time, and by then, she was absolutely sure that there was someone calling her name.

“Who’s there?” She turned abruptly, brown strands escaped from her loose ponytail whipping her in the face. Reaching into her tote, Valerie felt around for the canister of pepper spray that her very paranoid father had gifted her a couple months prior. Though, with the way things were going, she was starting to understand exactly why he was always so concerned for her safety. “I know someone’s here,” she desperately tried to steady her voice, “I swear to god, if you pull something, I’ll kick your ass.”

In actuality, she probably could not kick their ass, but they didn’t need to know that.

“My sweet Daeva,” a female voice taunted, that time offering more than than the others usually did, though Valerie wasn’t quite sure she’d heard it right. It was almost as if the words were blowing past her ear, far too quickly for her to really pick them up, “It’s time to come home.”

Gulping and having decided that pepper spray might not be enough to ward off potential kidnappers, Valerie took off, feet hitting the floor hard with each step as she ran towards her car, parked all the way on the opposing side. Her lungs burnt more than it had in awhile, and even as she moved clumsily, she scoured for the right key, singling it out just in the nick of time. 

Getting in, she turned the key in the ignition, grateful that it started without trouble and quickly pulling out of the spot. With her foot heavy on the gas, Valerie broke out onto the deserted side street, droplets from the night’s heavy drizzle pattering against her windshield, running down the front, occasionally swept to the side by the wipers. The streets were almost barren, as a consequence of it being past two am, and even worse yet, because of the rain that had poured heavily on and off throughout the day. 

Her eyes were heavy, two twelve hour shifts weighing them down, and as Valerie continued driving and the adrenaline from the parking lot wore off, it was a fight to keep them open. Just about twenty minutes longer. The windows were up, the air conditioning humming loudly, joining the soft rumbling of her engine as she pressed forward. Sighing deeply, taking note of the lights ahead, Valerie shook her head vigorously, hoping to ward off sleep, though, it only worked for a couple seconds, and before she knew it, her lids were drooping closed again, lashes tangling and skewing her vision.

Maybe a minute wouldn’t kill her, she was almost home anyway.

“Valerie!” A voice far different from the ones before yelled her name, making her eyes snap open, just in time for her to slightly lift her foot only to slam it on the brakes, bringing her car to a screeching halt. 

“Fuck!” She breathed heavily; she’d almost ran a red light…..and hit a person! Right there, in front of her car, stood a man, dressed all in white, like a hospital warden or something similar, not looking scared, startled or dazed in the slightest, not even jumping like she had when right after, a three ton sped noisily across the intersection. Had he not been there and she’d run the lights, it might have killed her. The man still stood rigid, merely an inch away from the hood of her car. She’s almost hit someone, possibly almost killed him. “Oh my god,” she fought a sob, shifting the gear into park, only bending her head to shut the engine off before getting out to check on her almost victim. Though, when she raised her head again, much to her dismay, he was gone. Not off to the side or across the street, he was just gone, like he’d vanished in thin air. 

From the safety of her car, she spent not more than a second looking around and afterwards, Valerie quickly got the vehicle started again, choosing to count the ordeal as a rare stroke of luck, and hoping to get home, hopefully without any other mishap. 

Little did she know, the trouble was only just beginning. 

******

Tagging- @harrisongslimited @magnificentclodpiebanana @keandrews @greenmanalishi  @rdjloverxxx @danceoftwowolves  @planetkt @wheretheriversrunintothesea  @luxx-aeterna​

[marshmallow-phd]

The Anormic

Part of The Experiments Universe

Genre: Lucky One/Obsession AU

Pairing: Kris x Reader

Summary: You were everything he needed to feel human. But not even your presence could keep the nightmares away. The years had gone by and it seemed his dreams were all that was left of his trauma. When his past comes back and snatches you away, the human mask he’d worked so hard to create will be ripped away and he’ll stop at nothing to get you back.

Part: 1 I 2 I 3

**

You stumbled back, tripping over your feet and barely catching your balance before you could meet the floor. You felt like you’d been tossed in front of an eighteen-wheeler. To keep you steady, you placed your palm against the cold cinderblock wall. No. It couldn’t be the same Kris that he spoke about, not your Kris. Sure, he had a mysterious past, but you took it as easily explainable; a bad childhood or dysfunctional family he was trying to outrun, maybe even a criminal record that he deeply regretted. This was something else entirely.

You racked through your memory, trying to find any sort of sign or clue that this man was telling the truth. Kris couldn’t have any powers or extraordinary gifts. He was an average person who worked a laborious job, who came home to you in the evening, and lived an ordinary life. But the dots were there to connect: the ambiguous past that he rarely spoke of, the quick reflexes, and lifting of objects that should have taken more struggle. This Dr. Brandt had said he was like a dragon – a possible hint as to what else Kris was hiding from you?

“Quite a shock, isn’t it?” Dr. Brandt said, amused.

The words to snipe back were far out of reach. Part of you wanted to jump him like an overprotective cheetah, clawing his face with your fingernails until you drew blood. But the meeker part of you couldn’t find the strength to attack, barely able to keep your knees from buckling under.

“He was one of the subjects that progressed quickly. A shining example for the other eleven.”

Other eleven? Tao. Did that mean Kris’ friend Tao was among them? Were the other men you saw leave part of that group as well? Dr. Brandt’s smirk deepened, if that was possible. He seemingly enjoyed your confusion.

“So… you want to cage them all up again?” It was the only question you could push out onto the surface. There many more – more details of the experiments, what he meant by Kris jumping sides. A deep labyrinth lied before you. While you had no idea what sort of Minotaur waited in the middle and you were left without a string, you knew you would have to move forward to get to the truth.

“Actually, we’ve made progress without the original subjects,” he said. “Much more than could have ever hoped from the first trials. However, we’ve hit a bit of a wall. If we are to keep forging a new way, we need to glance back. We need Kris’ cooperation to do so.”

You swallowed thickly. At least he wasn’t trying to be the mysterious mad scientist in the tower. He came right down and had no issues explaining to you his evil plans. “So what do you need me for then? To make him help you?”

“Unfortunate collateral. We know that getting Kris here would be more trouble than it's worth. You were the easier target, so we brought you here. Eventually, Kris will come to us and be more than cooperative. Then, when we have all that we need, the two of you can go on your way.”

Great. You were bait. Like a worm on a hook. The tension in your jaw made the muscles under the skin ache. Even your teeth were whining from the pain. “So, I’m guessing you left him a little map on how to get here?”

“Oh, no!” Dr. Brandt laughed. “That’s not nearly as fun. But we did leave behind a clue to get him started. He’s an intelligent being. He’ll find us… eventually. Until then, enjoy the hospitality.” Like a dancer, he whirled on the balls of his feet and exited the room. The door slid closed behind him, the click finalizing the idea that this would be your prison for the foreseeable future.

You were battling yourself. You wanted Kris to come rescue you, but him getting pulled back into this mess of a place was horrifying image. It was hard to wrap around the thought of Kris living a life of experimentation, of tests and needles and torture. And for what? What was the purpose behind all of this? You almost shouted for the mad doctor to come to answer the questions, but you held your tongue. Now wasn’t the time to draw attention to yourself. While the doctors and guards might be aware of your presence, you needed to fade into the background of their minds. If you were going to get out of here, you needed to become almost invisible. So, instead of screaming into the abyss where your words would fall on uninterested ears, you lied down on the bed, eyes focused on the slick white ceiling. Kris would come for you, but in the meantime, you would create your plan. Because you would get out of here and you refused to let Kris be caged ever again. In order to that, you would have to find your own way.

**

It was hot. It was the kind of memorable hot where beads of sweat dotted the hairline in a way that was never ending and the sun shined up in the sky without any mercy from the clouds that had been dotting the sky for the past few days. Overnight they had either drifted off to another landscape or dissipated back into their individual water droplets. Despite the heat, it was still a beautiful day. The park was full of families and couples enjoying the fresh air, but it wasn’t overcrowded to the point of being suffocating. You took in the sights with a smile as you sat at one of the picnic tables by your lonesome. Textbook and pen at the ready, you were killing two birds with one stone by finally leaving the confining walls of your studio apartment while still getting plenty of studying done before your test next week.

After a few hours, your eyes were tiring from the glare the glossy paper gave off. The words were beginning to blur. You were no longer able to recite the previous sentence that you’d read. A break was certainly earned.

As your gaze wandered around the park it settled on a small food truck across the bike path. The signs all over the metal sides said their specialty was ice cream. Well, you’d worked hard for a treat, hadn’t you? Packing up your things, you threw your bag over your shoulder and made way to the truck expertly dodging children playing tag in the process. The line moved at a tolerable pace, giving you enough time to pick out a treat before approaching the front window. The woman inside the truck was friendly. She wrote down your order with a smile and, after handing your card back, pointed you off to the side where you could pick up your sundae. You were practically bouncing with anticipation as you watched from the opened back door; the employee scooped up the vanilla ice cream and torched the marshmallows until they were a perfect golden brown. The grin on your face was wide to the point of making your cheeks ache as you thanked the young man who handed the Styrofoam bowl to you. Not wasting time to find a spot to sit down, you walked down the bike path as you attempted to eat at a pace that was acceptable for the public.

All afternoon you had been hearing the typical noises of the park, most not bothering you in the slightest. You weren’t so easily distracted, but the blissful air you were currently in must have made you more susceptible. The chime of a bike bell caught your attention. You glanced over your shoulder to see a teenage boy peddling fast and laughing as he left his friends in the dust. But he wasn’t paying attention to where his bike was going, thinking that his bell was enough to clear the way as he stared behind him. Before he could collide with you, an arm wrapped around your shoulders. It pulled you out of the way in time but at the expense of your ice cream.

The bowl was cracked nearly in half. Chocolate syrup and melted mush covered both your shirt and the shirt of the wannabe hero.

“Well, that was nice while it lasted,” you murmured in disappointment.

“I’m so sorry,” a deep voice apologized.

You looked up and – as much as you hated to admit it – your irritation dissolved away, all because of the very handsome face that you were getting lost in. You waved his sorry away. “It’s okay. Better than being a bug squished on the cement.”

That made him laugh. “Let me replace it.”

“Oh, no, that’s alright. Thank you, though.”

“No, I insist.”

“Really, its-” You were completely ignored. The man – the very tall, handsome man – was already walking towards the food truck, wallet in hand. Nerves and butterflies took over your body as you stood there on the edge of the path, unable to walk away when you would have in any other situation. But there was something intriguing about this man. Not to mention, you were a sucker for chivalry.

The man came back with a new s’mores bowl balanced in one hand. Balanced wasn’t really the right word as what took two hands for you to carry rested nicely in his single palm. His other held onto a stack of napkins. The latter was handed out to you first.

“Thank you.” You took a few napkins shyly. Once you were cleaned up, you took the sundae. “Thanks.” You already said that. Clearing your throat, you tucked the used napkins under your arm and held out a free hand. “I’m (/y).”

He smiled broadly. “Kris.”

**

The building looked different. For over a year, the sight of the lit-up windows and the silhouette outline against the setting sun was a welcoming one – it loosened his tense shoulders, opened up his lungs. He felt stronger, even more so than he already was. A deep rest couldn’t do for him what seeing this place had. He always felt like he could live forever. Invincible, like Superman.

Now, though? Now it was simply a monument to his faults. Bricks and mortar that stood for nothing but loss. If he’d known that meeting you that day in the park would lead to this, he would have left the second he pulled you out of the way of the bike. He wouldn’t have smiled as you enjoyed the ice cream or even given you his name. Or, at least, he hoped that he would have gone the other way. As he walked up the stairs of the apartment building, he was bombarded with memories. The happy ones, most of all. But even the fights came pushing through. In those moments he’d been angry and frustrated, wanting to never have another scene like that again once you’d both calmed down and said sorry. In the present, though, he would give anything to have another fight with you. Back and forth he bounced, from wishing he’d never met you to praying he’d be able to hold you in his arms again. With unstable fingers he unlocked the front door and went inside.

The place was still a disaster. He hadn’t bothered cleaning up or even attempting to right any of the overturned furniture before he’d left. Dust was already starting to settle on every surface – something that would have driven you crazy. You couldn’t stand a dirty home. You wouldn’t be able to concentrate on anything else until it was spotless, just the way you liked it. Although, Kris had always thought that you simply used that as an excuse to procrastinate your studying. If it was you who had made the mess with your homework, then it wasn’t a dire situation. He’d always laughed at your pitiful argument against his statement. The lights suddenly flickered on.

“Kris?”

Turning around, Kris felt immediate relief.

Standing in the doorway were four of his brothers. He hadn’t seen them in quite a while. The exact amount of time was lost to him. Years, maybe? They all lived on the military base that kept them safe. It had crossed his mind once or twice to take you there to live. It might have helped drive the worry and the nightmares away. But that would have meant telling you everything. That inevitability haunted him even more.

“Chanyeol.” He tried to swallow down the shakiness in his voice. Thankfully, the younger hybrid took the first step, not even acknowledging the way Kris was barely holding it together. He closed the space between them with long strides and hugged Kris for the first time in years. Kris sighed into the embrace, even patting Chanyeol on the back. When they parted, Kris said, “Thank you for coming. I know this is probably the last thing you want to get involved in.”

“Hence why there’s only four of us,” Baekhyun huffed. The haughty air was clearly fake given the smirk dancing in the corner of his mouth.

“Nice to see you, too, Baekhyun.”

“So, Chanyeol said that your… friend was taken.” Minseok crossed his arms and leaned up against the door after shutting it behind him.

“My girlfriend,” Kris correct.

“And you both lived here?” Yixing asked.

Kris nodded. “Yeah. I don’t know how they found us. The apartment is under her name.”

“Does she know about you?” Chanyeol ran a hand through his messy black hair. “Does she now about us?”

“No,” Kris admitted. “Well, at least she didn’t before. Now- now there’s no telling what she does and doesn’t know.”

Yixing walked deeper into the apartment until he reached the living room. Crouching down, he examined the shards of glass sprinkled all over the rug. He scooped up a hand full, not bothered at all by the tiny cuts the edges made on his fingers and palms; they healed just as quickly as they were formed. “How long ago did they take her?”

“Day and a half ago. Why?”

“Just wondering. I wasn’t sure if they tried to come back and get you as well. Or if this was caused by them coming back.”

“Nothing’s changed since I left.”

“Did you find anything on your original search?”

Kris cleared his throat. Yixing and he… well, they never really had the closest of relationships, even back before they were separated. As thankful as he was that the latter had volunteered to help, Kris still couldn’t help against feeling the slightest bit awkward. “I didn’t do a thorough search, but I did find this.” He walked over to where his duffel bag was sitting on the floor and unzipped the pocket that held the frayed badge.

Baekhyun narrowed his eyes at the symbol. “What is it?”

“It’s the symbol for Regeneration Science, camouflaged unit for EXO. Wang told me about it. She considerate it their back up plan. I never put too much thought into it. The way she talked about RS made it sound like that’s where they would move everything in case something were to happen.”

Minseok took the patch, examining it closer. “Is it possible that they had a copy of the files that you didn’t know about?”

Kris shook his head. “I wouldn’t have thought so. Wang was protective of her research. She didn’t like the idea of copies floating around. While I was still undercover, I tried to find all the copies that I could. They didn’t exist.”

“They obviously still have something on us,” Baekhyun chimed in. “Why else try to come after us again after all these years?”

“That’s a good point,” Yixing said as he straightened himself back up. “If you found that,” he pointed to the patch, “without looking, then maybe there’s something else here. I think we should dig a bit deeper, maybe we’ll get lucky.”

“Sounds like a good idea.”

So, the four of them started searching around the apartment, checking under the couch and in the different rooms for any other clue the enemy might have left behind. Kris headed towards the bedroom, but found himself frozen in the doorway. His brain, adding to the cruel torture he was already in, imagined you sitting on the bed, covers draped over your legs, smiling at him as if he’d just come back from a long day at work.

“You alright?” Minseok asked. His sudden appearance made Kris jump.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine.” Behind Minseok, he watched as Chanyeol picked up the bookcase and set it against the wall. On the floor were scattered papers and folders, creased from the pressure of the wood that had lied on top of them. “Excuse me.” Kris passed by Minseok to get to the living room.

“Is this yours?” Chanyeol asked.

Kris shook his head. “No, it was (y/n)’s. For one of her classes.”

Frowning, Yixing picked up several of the papers and skimmed their contents. “Are you sure about that?”

“Of course.” Why would you lie about something like that?

Yixing held up one of the papers for Kris to see. “I think this might have been how they found you.”

In a flash, Kris snatched the paper. His eyes flew over the words. Slowly, their meanings sank in. It was a list off all the previous places he’d lived, including the different aliases and variations he’d gone by. Only after meeting you had he gotten weak and used his real name. How did you find any of this? But more importantly….

Why were you looking for it in the first place?

[randomguywithwords]

As The Dust Settles: Chapter 22 (Geten X Dabi Slowburn)

Chapter 22: Lost Memories

AO3 Link

Previous Chapters: 21, 20, 19, 18, 17, 16, 15, 14, 13, 12, 11, 10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1

–––––––––––

On Friday, Dabi found himself surrounded by four figures, recognising only one by his still-long silver hair like strands of moonlight, his hardened, battle-scarred face and calm expression. 

“This is a nice reunion. I can’t say I remember all of you – mostly because I don’t care to do so, but if Nine let you guys into his special club, you guys are likely decent.” Dabi smirked, eyeing each of them in turn. 

The rightmost one, an imposing wolf-man gave a growl. “Decent? I’ll show you decent.”

“Chimera,” Nine, to his left, spoke softly. To Dabi’s surprise, the subordinate huffed and stayed silent. Turning back to face Dabi, Nine said, “It has indeed been a while. You understand the logistics of this experiment?”

“Shigaraki put me to it, of course I do.” 

“Then let us proceed.” Nine stepped towards him, while his minions tensed up. 

“Nine, are you sure about this?” The skinny man directed a glare towards Dabi. Dabi didn’t need that to tell him they were suspicious of him. 

“I’ll be in safe hands. We will meet at the location I’ve given you all. Take care, friends.” Nine gave a wave of dismissal, and with some reluctance, the remaining three departed in silence. 

“Alright, let’s go.” Dabi pocketed his hands and began leaving the forest clearing, heading back towards Deika City. He heard Nine’s footsteps behind him. 

“Your demeanour has certainly shifted. What happened to the old Vengeance?”

“Who?”

“You, obviously.”

Dabi racked his brain, but the name didn’t ring a bell. “Well, I don’t call myself that horrible name now.”

“I’ve heard. Numerous cases of burnt corpses or piles of ashes, blue flames. They call you Dabi now. I thought it was peculiar, but it made sense when I could no longer contact your old mentor.” 

“Your squadmate.” Dabi corrected, the fact returning to his memories. As Nine’s voice entered his head, it hummed in resonance with old recollections where he had met the man in his teenagehood. He now recalled the one encounter, out of the few, where Dabi had first seen that calm, controlled countenance contort with rage, born from the ideology he stole. 

“It confused me initially. I wondered why a man you respected and perhaps even cared for would be subject to your flames. The possibilities ranged from hallucinogens to collateral damage. But no.” Nine murmured. “You killed Dabi intentionally, didn’t you?”

Dabi was silent for three seconds, the air cold as winter storms. “You were right,” Touya said. “He left me for dead, but I escaped, and then...yeah.”

Nine sighed. “How poetic. To die by his partner’s hands, as he let his squad die all those years ago. But that brings me to my other question.”

They were drawing near to civilization, weaving through pine trees and stepping over brooks. 

“Why take his name?” 

��Figure it out yourself,” Dabi said with a forceful tone of finality. “We’re almost reaching the place.” 

To his credit, Nine dropped the subject. Perhaps he did so because he needed what Shigaraki had to offer. Antagonising Dabi wouldn’t be smart.

They were reaching one of the tunnels that led to the Liberation Front’s assembly square, now empty. It was empty, likely only watched by Skeptic’s surveillance. But a few raised eyebrows is all it would draw; Skeptic was too cowardly to question Dabi’s tasks or Shigaraki’s plans. 

“Here?” Dabi heard disgust in Nine’s tone as the musty air rushed out of the opening doors. 

“Can’t let anyone see us. This is good.” Dabi shut the doors behind them. Tapping his earpiece, he said, “We’re good, Doc.”

“I’ve been waiting for a while now,” Ujiko huffed on the other end of the line. “Give me a second.”

“Have a safe trip, Nine, I’ll see you on Monday.” Dabi waved, concealing a grin. 

Nine gave a nod, before Ujiko’s teleportation took hold of his form, and Nine’s body disappeared within the swampy goo. 

Dabi leaned against the wall, feeling more memories return of the other Dabi. The first Dabi. Did I ever know his name? I don’t think he, nor Nine, ever told me. Special forces… all that secrecy. 

He felt his fire ignite on his arm out of instinct. He willed it to die, and instead, let the past engulf him. 

––––––––––

“What’s your name, kid?” 

“Touya.” I rubbed my hands out of instinct. What time is it? How long did I sleep?

“Quirk?”

“I can shoot fire.” 

“Was it you back there? The fire at that mall in the afternoon?” 

“No,” I lied. 

The stranger cocked his head. “I ain’t gonna report you to the police, kid. I’m not exactly on best terms with them myself.” 

“Are you…” The word on the tip of my tongue was like a matchstick to a fuse. 

“A villain?” He scoffed. “I just fixed you up and gave you a place to sleep for the night. Do I look like one?” 

I looked him up and down. Grey coat, green goggles on his forehead, a cigarette in his hand. “No,” I said. 

“Well, your perception needs some work.” He leaned back on the creaky folding chair. “Officially, I’m considered one, but unlike the thugs in alleys like this, I have standards. And I don’t take kids hostage, even if you’re Endeavour’s kid.” 

I backed away, my back slamming against the mouldy bricks. “How did you —“ 

“Please, a fire quirk, and recent sightings of Endeavour at the same mall that was set on fire? Don’t play dumb with me.” 

“That was his doing,” I argued. 

He took a puff and clucked his tongue. “Now you’re blaming it on your dad? Not very filial.” 

“I hate my dad.” The venom coursed through every word I spat out, which seemed to startle even the stranger.

“Hm, some spirit in you. Well, take that bravado and run off now, why don’t you?” 

“What?” 

He quirked his eyebrow. “You heard me, shoo.” 

“But…” My head drooped. “I’ve nowhere to go. I’m running away.”

“Well, you should have thought of a plan before setting fire to a mall, using that as an escape, and nearly choking to death in the flames you made.” Every word in that sentence made my skin shudder. 

I was desperate, I wanted to say, but desperation would only paint me as prey in the underbelly of society, my next stage of hell that the gods were benevolent enough to throw me into.  

“I can help you,” I decided to say, raising my head, mustering the drops of defiance in myself.

The man snorted. “How exactly does a 13 year old kid benefit me? I don’t do teams, boy.” 

“What if I beat you in a fight?” I clenched my fists, which still stung from the wounds. 

He scanned my form and the guise of confidence on my face. “Oh, so you were trained by Endeavour. I thought you were one of those prissy boys enjoying a rich life.”

My face drained of heat and colour. How did he know?

“Look, I’m not a smart guy, but I’m smarter than you. I can make my own assumptions, one of which is that I’d win you in a fight. No contest.”

“I…” My voice trailed off.

“How about this?” The man said, throwing his cigarette behind him. “You know hide and seek?” 

I frowned. “Yes. It’s a childish game.”

“I don’t think so. I think it’s one of the best strategies for its simplicity. Let’s play that game. Give me a minute, then go to the nearby park. It’s midnight, no one will see you. And if you get caught by a stray policeman, I’m not saving you again. Anyway, if you can find me, I’ll let you in. Got it?” 

I gulped, hoping this wasn’t dangerous for myself, but considering how I’d be unconscious for a couple of hours and he hadn’t done anything, I felt a sense of trust in this stranger. 

“Ok, tha – thank you. How long do I have?”

“60 seconds. Start counting.” With that, he left the alley. 

1...2...3

Ten seconds in, I wondered if he was simply leaving me as a twisted joke. How far could he run in a minute? What was his quirk anyway? 

Twenty seconds in, I contemplated scrounging this hideout for whatever I could find and running from him, but the guilt of betraying his hospitality stopped me. 

Thirty seconds in, in a moment of panic, I thought he was going to turn me in. What if people died in the fire? I would be held responsible, wouldn’t I? What if everything he said about himself being a villain was a lie?

The minute felt stretched into eternity with the unceasing torrent of worries flooding my mind. But after being frozen in one spot throughout, I heard myself say 60. Taking a deep breath, I got up and left the hideout, entering the cold night. 

––––––––––

Dabi heard the door groan open. He opened his eyes to see a familiar form, shrouded by a recognizable parka hood.

“You?” Dabi frowned. “What are you doing here?”

Geten’s form went rigid, like a burglar who had been caught by a flashlight. 

“I thought...there was a meeting,” She said. 

“And you chose to enter by this tunnel?” His tone was acidly amused. 

Geten didn’t reply for a couple of seconds. “Yes.” 

Dabi sighed. “For a lieutenant, you’re shit at lying. You were following me, weren’t you? Why would you enter an empty place where you know your entrance would be heard so goddamn clearly?” 

“You were in there for a while. I thought,” She caught herself, but relented. “I thought something happened to you. That man. He looked dangerous.”

Dabi’s breath was stuck in his throat. It was his turn to be stunned. “I was fine, alright. I’m just thinking. So, how much did you hear?” He folded his arms in annoyance, but he found it suddenly difficult to muster anger against her.

“Next to nothing, apart from your farewell. What are you doing when the Festival starts?” 

“I’ll be there during the Festival. Don’t worry.” Dabi figured Twice could simply generate a copy of him. Technically, it was the truth. 

“You’re a liar.” The emotion in her words took him aback, as if that really struck a painful chord in her. “You wouldn’t sound so reassuring. What’s going on?” 

Ugh. Shigaraki won’t be happy if I told her. 

“I’m not going to divulge this to anyone. I’ve no intention to, anyway,” She added.

“It’s just a side task, okay? You can handle the regiment just fine.”

Geten was quiet, then she spoke, “Can we continue this somewhere else?”

“Why?”

“Wouldn’t want to make the amateur mistake you did when speaking to that man.” She gestured around them. 

Ah. Dabi had an idea what she intended to say. “If you say so. Where’s a good place?” 

But Geten responded only by opening the door and motioned for him to follow. 

[owlsbride]

This Too Shall Pass

Chapter III: The Reaper.

London was no longer London. At least not the London he had come to love. Now it was a mix of modern buildings as tall as the sky itself. The old carriages over the years had been replaced by modern cars much faster and more compact at the same time. Now there were buses and even high-speed subway trains. Modernity was a new world and infinite possibilities. There was no misinterpretation, he had adapted well throughout all these years. He had learned to use every technological advance that came his way: cell phones, computers, the glorious internet, television. He even enjoyed from time to time going to the movies. He had learned that the latter was not significantly different from how people's cinematics records worked and that in a way filled him with pride. Even if he was a deserter, he had to accept that his people were far more intelligent and advanced than humans. He was used to modern life; it could be said that he even enjoyed it. He had come to learn some of the little pleasures that this era could bring him. He could sit for hours in some trendy little cafe, (where in order to pay a cup of tea, a regular person would have to consider selling a kidney on the black market) just to watch humans live their lives as fast as possible, coming and going without even pausing for a second to look to the side or behind, without even having the slightest consideration for what they did to the other or to the world in which they lived. These people lived oblivious of the finiteness and fragility of their bodies. They walked around proud of their cars, their clothes, their lovers and their promising careers, never stopping to look at or ask the needs of the others, never acknowledging that in the end death was inevitable and that at the last breath she equalled them all. Royalty, politicians, businessmen or beggars, they would all follow the same path and some of his former colleagues would be willing and able to judge them and take them without the possibility of the slightest protest. Oh these humans, they would never know what they got till is lost forever. He had lost everything once, even his sanity, and he was sure he would not do it again. Not now that he saw things as they were. His obsession with death had long been replaced by his obsession with life. That was what had driven him away from what had made him a legend so long ago, and what drives him crazy every time a little more. It was the burning desire to know what life was afterlife itself. How to prolong it, recover lost moments, and why not, create new ones. How to find once again what was lost and how to restore it as an exquisite work of art. Ironically, to reach his goal, he needed death: he was tied to it, and just today, in these times, the business of death was dying. Hilarious. Something as simple as passing, now it was complicated. In the good old days, when he had decided to turn his back on everything he knew, he had become London's best-known mortician. With his small business in Camden Town, he had had access to the most extraordinary elites of English society, and yet also made important contacts with simple commoners. As an undertaker, he had connections, the most varied and they all turned to him. Of course, he was not moved by money, he had never cared, he simply demanded in return a good joke that would make him laugh. After all, even death was not to be taken too seriously. He ran his business diligently getting to know more people than he ever imagined, one more curious and entertaining than the other. As an informant for the queen's watchdogs, he had managed to get into the elite, and thus each subject of study reached him without significant problems. He was happy, Oh what wouldn't he give for listening to the Earl's little voice once more asking for information? That butler was an incredible specimen, and he would have loved to dissect him. Oh lord, if only the little boy wouldn't be so stubborn about his stupid vengeance. Today the Parlour was not enough. Undertaker knew that if he wanted to continue his investigations even nearly 200 years later and with many incredible technological improvements, he had to be able to access another source of income. Modern times meant diversifying. Today, everyone's favourite mortician was no longer called to make arrangements for the afterlife. No. Now there were hundreds of other undertakers who did the same as him. Therefore, a place in the hospital morgue had been secured for some time. Who better than him, after years and years of seeing corpses to perform an autopsy and making himself time to take a look at his hidden agenda secretly? So yes, Undertaker was happy. Even if he missed the old times sometimes, he still ran his Parlour in the afternoons and was a forensic doc in the mornings. Just like a superhero with a secret identity, thinking about it, too many identities. Undertaker was sitting on the counter at his place, his long booted legs swinging lazily. The newspaper rested next to him, he had just finished reading the news, and they were hopeless, people in London were dying in droves, more like hundreds a day and that sort of hurt. Of course, he had witnessed other pandemics and knew very well what the consequences were. Not only did people die from the disease itself, but the devastation left, and the collateral damages were incalculable. It was as if the Horseman of the Apocalypse from the bible really put his feet on the slaughtered Earth. Undertaker knew that by now his fellow shinigamis would be desperate from overwork and felt sorry for them. How much would the lists of people to die have increased in recent months? He also felt sorry for the doctors who work non-stop to save lives. Two sides of the same coin: medical services and shinigamis, both barely surpassed by an infamous virus invisible to everyone's eyes, even his own. He regretted his work in the hospital too, it had been interrupted in these months, and he no longer had access to people's bodies for security measures. Obviously, the virus did not affect him in the least, but he had to keep up appearances. He sighed bored as his black nails drummed on the surface of the counter, he had no pending work, and he only had to wait. Sighed and wait. No more laugh, no more research, no more hilarious strange glances from his fellow doctors, nothing. Just desolation in every corner. His day couldn't get any worse, he burnt his bone-shaped cookies and was running out of tea. He would have to go to the store soon. He hated the store, he much preferred Lau's herbs, even the funny ones, those who made people laugh and relax when used in the right amount, and if not, still, he was not one to judge. So picking up the keys, he was ready to go out when something or somebody took him by surprise. "Heh heh, but if it's none other than the red shinigami ~ Tell me, sweety, Dear William gave you some free time?" "Undertaker, always a pleasure ..." Grell began nervously. Being in front of the legend of the shinigamis made him nervous "I have a favour to ask you." "A favour? Hmm ... How long has it been since the last one?" The silver-haired man chuckled, removing his bangs from his eyes. "You know what to do ~ give it to me first. Come on, you know what I want." "Undertaker ..." Grell pleaded "Now is not the time, besides you know I don't know how to do it." "My my, your face is priceless; you are still a nervous wreck." The Undertaker smiled almost fondly at the younger reaper. "What do you want?" "I need you ..." Undertaker raised an interested eyebrow, putting the keys back where he had found them, the tea could wait. Not every day a Shinigami would show up at the doors of a deserter asking for help. "I mean... WE need you." "You mean the London Despatch?..." Disbelief in his words, Grell nodded "Now, that's the joke of the century Grell, come on, I don't have time, I'm running out of tea". Grell Sutcliff rolled his eyes. He hadn't changed in years, Undertaker was just the same and he kind of like it. If it weren't for his relationship with William, Oh, the things he could do to the revel grim reaper in front of him. "Really, Undertaker? Is that what you do now? Take tea like an old lady?" the red-head spoke loudly, pointing at Undertaker's hidden scythe. "Well ... I'm quite old after all" Undertaker smiled and Grell pouted. "Ok, Ok. Why don't you take a seat on one of my special coffins and explain yourself?" Grell blew out the breath he didn't know he was holding and accepted the invitation. It was his idea after all, and he couldn't bring a no for an answer to his beloved William.

The chilly winter covered the city with a heavy mist. The sky threatened to snow at any moment. It didn't take long to convince him. Once young Grell Sutcliff had finished telling him his crazy plan and talked about how much the Despatch needed the help, he was ready to go. Plus, the red riper dared to say that the snob William T. Spears would have more than a headache knowing that he, the renegade shinigami, would accomplish the task better and faster, and nothing made him happier than bother poor Will. He was ready to wear the shinigami outfit one more time. He had to admit that he had missed it and that there was nothing like fieldwork. He was prepared to prove that no one could ever match him. Within just a few hours, he had been able to carry out the work of four shinigamis together and was just getting started. He caressed his lifelong companion with devotion, he had never gotten rid of his lover, and today they were walking together once more. His scythe was fantastic, and he loved her. Standing on the terrace of the hospital, he checked the list one more time. There were only two names left before the end of the shift when something caught his attention. She wasn't on the list moments ago. Her name had appeared suddenly, and she should not be there: Gwenhwyfar O'Doherty. He knew her, he had seen her from time to time in the corridors of the hospital. The young Irish doctor, lovely green eyes, cute freckles, she was so full of life. Working diligently every day to save others and yet here she was about to take the somersault that would make her, at best, one of his own kind. She wasn't ready to go, the world needed her. "I wouldn't do that if I were you, dear~ You are very much need it right now~." and his soft chuckle got lost in the winter night.

[iheardarumorxxx]

Alright, time for biology class, let’s go.

Except not quite yet because I have a continuity question: This might be a book to movie error, but this says that Emmett, Rose, and Jasper were pretending to be seniors, but in New Moon (definitely in the movie, but I thought also in the book), Jasper is there at school with Alice and Edward and Bella. So did Forks High flunk Jasper???

Anyway, Biology class.

would manage to pull out anything in his lecture that would surprise someone holding two graduate degrees in medicine.

Edward has two graduate degrees in Medicine. This makes all of the Twilight books look hilarious in retrospect, but makes the fourth one especially funny in a rage inducing kind of way.

The humans weren't smart enough to know that they feared me, but their survival instincts were enough to keep them away.

1) You said this shit already back in the cafeteria, and I didn’t buy it then, so stop repeating yourself, and 2) I will say again since we’re repeating ourselves: They stay away from you because you’re a stuck up, smarmy little asshole.

Still, from the place where Bella Swan stood, nothing.

If only, sweet Weirdo, you had taken this as a sign of what it truly is: Your sweet precious flower Bella is empty space. A placeholder where hundreds of thousands of guys, gals, and non-binary pals can slip in and make it their fantasy. Can’t do that if she has unique and interesting thoughts. (And no, dear readers, I do not consider Twilight Bella’s ‘unique and interesting thoughts’ because SM never mastered that first person POV and it never felt like we were actually in Bella’s head.)

There was no room full of witnesses - they were already collateral damage in my head.

Okay everyone (myself included) clowns on the fact that as soon as Weirdo gets a sniff of the blood, he’s plotting out the murder of his entire class, but if we could all just take a second here. 

Edward Cullen, the Vampire with Morals and A Heart Of Gold (according to the fanbase) gets a sniff of Bella’s blood and is immediately plotting out the murder of his entire class. No hesitation, no thought. This does not strike me as a man with a high regard for human life, as the books tried to tell me over and over that he was. If the line is still in there, this will get even worse later, but for now, I’m letting it rest on that.

I would also like to make a point about Vampires and their Instincts, but I don’t think this is the time for it. Not yet. So hold on to that thought for later.

the face I'd beaten back with decades of effort and uncompromising discipline

Remember that time Weirdo got pissed at Carlisle and fucked off to go people for a few years in a fit of warped vigilante justice?

Okay, the section is far too long to quote, but let’s talk about Weirdo’s little murder plot, shall we? At this point in the story, especially in this one as I am in Weirdo’s head, I’m supposed to think that he’s driven mad by bloodlust and in some kind of incontrollable madness.

But he’s sitting in his seat literally planning out exactly what the best route is to kill every single student in this classroom so that he doesn’t leave any wittnesses to his crime. He’s being detailed to the point that he can tell exactly how much time he has to do this. 

That isn’t driven mad by bloodlust, guys. That’s fucking cold and calculated. This man is planning to the second how to kill 20 people all at once without getting caught. It’s planned down to the detail. As hilarious as it may be to clown on Weirdo about this passage, please think about it. Think about the cold, calculating way he’s describing murdering innocent teenagers and his biology teacher just so he can drink Bella in peace. Please think about the implications of what kind of person Edward Cullen is, that he can so coldly plan something like that. 

In my head, Carlisle's kind eyes did not judge me.

I have a lot of feelings about Carlisle, and none of them are very nice, but I’ll save that rant and see just how he is in this book, since we’re gonna see more of him.

There is more of Weirdo’s woe is me bullshit here. I feel like it’s supposed to be dramatic and really get us into his Feelies about the Tasty Good Hooman Blood he’s wiffing, but it reads so much like a dramatic pre-teen diary entry that all I hear when I read it is ‘Waaaaaah! Why me? I hate everything, this isn’t FAIR!’

But I didn't have to breathe.

This is a very relevant and important point about the mythology of vampires in this canon. They don’t have to breathe. They literally never have to breathe and choose to do so anyway, and while I could understand that new vampires might continue to breathe because it’s a comfort of their previous life and a force of habit carried over, Weirdo has had plenty of time to lose the habit. And it is absolutely possible to not notice someone not breathing if you aren’t constantly staring at them waiting for the signs, so saying that it’s a tactic to blend in (especially when the Cullens do nothing in their power to blend in to begin with) doesn’t fly either. Weirdo goes on to make a point about how he relies on scent more than his other senses, for the hunt and for warning signs and all that, but he is in school, and if we go by the text, he doesn’t want to hurt the humans around him, so even if he does use his sense of smell, he has no reason to use it in a school full of vulnerable teenagers.

Weirdo calls Bella a Woman-Child and Thanks I fucking Hate It.

And once again, Edward is going into a lengthy fantasy about how to get Bella alone to murder her. I said it already but I’ll say it again. This isn’t fucking bloodlust, this is a cold blooded killer plotting his next kill. This fucker is Calculating. He’s plotting. If he was truly as bad off as he’s claiming, he wouldn’t have the brain power to be this cold and rational about it.

I played a CD of music that usually calmed me, but it did little for me now.

This is funny to me for a number of reasons. The first is my assumption that the CD he’s playing is that one with the DeBussy song on it. Symbolism and all that. But the second is that this is v much something that happened all throughout the Twilight saga with SM. She refuses outright to call things by name. She won’t say the names of bands, or search engines, and the only ‘product placement’ we get is the cars. I can’t tell if she did this to try and make her stories feel more timeless or because she was genuinely afraid of being sued or something for using specifics.

He's almost young enough to be my son. Too young to think of that way..

We get is SM, you want us to think your Pires are the most beautiful, amazing, alabaster angel creatures on the planet. But no sane, rational middle-aged school secretary is going to think of a student this way. It’s gross and creepy and makes me think extremely badly of Mrs. Cope if she’s having lustilicious thoughts about what she thinks is a teenage boy. 

like they've found some way to cheat in every subject.

I would like to point out that, at the very least Weirdo has found a way to cheat in every subject. Even taking into consieration the amount of times he’s been through high school and college, the guy can literally just pluck the answers right out of the teacher’s head. 

And we end Chapter One with a wimper. There are a lot of plot holes in relation to Alice’s visions, but they aren’t bad here, so I’ll leave them alone. The narrative of ‘Vampires do everything so much better than icky humans because they’re just the best and wonderful and great and amazing’ has already started happening, and now that we’re in the head on one of the Pires, I can only assume it’s gonna get so much worse. Here, it only really came up in the form of ‘pitiful, insignificant humans could never do that that I could.’ and the super fast driving bullshit that makes no sense because a car is not a Pire so it can’t just magically adhere to the warped Pire physics.

Anyway, that’s chapter one done. On to the next.