#both disposed of when they go where they shouldn't

[roach-works]

ok im waffling on about fallout instead of having breakfast but i saw a criticism of how the prisoners were treated that's stuck with me.

spoilers!

so i think the criticism wasn't incorrect, per se: it condemned the way the show portrayed the vault dweller's naive intention to rehabilitate their murderous captives. it found fault with a common, and horrible, message that tv shows like to say, which is that carcerial violence and even the death penalty is the only effective way to deal with criminals, who are a fundamentally Bad category of human. im sick of that message too! but i think that wasn't what was going on here, actually.

so like, the vault dwellers had only ever experienced violent loss the once, and didn't really know how to cope other than denial and repression of the ordeal. but they were all hopeful and enthusiastic that their prisoners, the invaders that came to kill them all and take their stuff, could be eventually welcomed into the community as their comrades. the champions of this cause were nebbishy dorks and painfully out of touch academics. this is pretty normal for how prison reformers are portrayed, if extremely fucking annoying for those of us who ARE in favor of prison reform.

but so of course when the son of the former overseer, Norm, speaks up and suggests killing the prisoners, because why should they share resources with invaders who explicitly wanted to keep hurting them? why should they show mercy to their attackers? everyone is appalled by this suggestion. because they had to reinvent the whole concept of vengeance right then and there, because grudges and cycles of violence are anathema to a bottle society like theirs. they have been raised all their lives to forgive and forget and now, put to the test, they're recommitting to this ethos: get along, let the past go, look towards the future, believe the best of everyone.

but the prisoners die, anyway. the prisoners are killed with rat poison. and the thing is that Norm who suggested it didn't do it himself. and the prison guard who's blamed for it, even though she privately agreed with Norm that the prisoners are dangerous and unforgiveable, she didn't do it either. it's not a moment of triumphant, cathartic vengeance and it doesn't prove that there's no way to negotiate with terrorists and invaders but kill them like vermin because that's not what the message is meant to be.

the message is that norm stands there in the middle of these inconvenient prisoners, these corpses dressed in his own people's uniforms, and he looks at the new overseer. and he knows that she killed them, and she knows that he knows. she wanted him to know. this is her message and he's reading her loud and clear. and he doesn't look like a guy who's just been backed up by authority, who's just been validated in his desire for the ultimate control over those who have wronged him.

he's scared and pale and the music is ominous as fuck. and he's inside the cell, he's directly in the middle of it.

because what just happened is that he realized his entire society is being held prisoner, and the overseer is the one with the rat poison. and that he doesn't know, anymore, what freedom and safety and justice actually mean, just that he doesn't have them and he doesn't know where to find them.

that's what that scene meant. not that rehabilitative justice is a pathetic delusion of people who have no idea how to make hard choices.

but that before you advocate for killing prisoners, you might want to see how big that prison is, first.

and which side of the bars you're standing on.

[muntitled]

Protecting His Investment

Pairings: The Salesman x Fem!Reader

Summary: No one gets to hurt you except him.

Warnings: Dead Dove Do Not Eat, Language, Implied Violence, Age gap, God Complex, Brainwashing, Psychopathy, Murder, Blood, Gore, Codependency, Yandere!Salesman, Stalking, Smut (+18) mdni, Voyeurism, Blood Kink, Sadomasocism, Dom!Salesman, Sub!Reader, Choking, Rough Sex, Oral Sex, Blood Play, fingering, Massive Degradation Kink, Praise Kink, Sadism, Punishments, Dom/Sub Dynamics, Squirting, Overstimulation

A/n: I'm not responsible for the media you consume.

This can be read as a continuation of this fic but not strictly

“Shouldn't I be blindfolded?"

If it weren't for the silence simmering between you both, in this monotonous taxi drive, he might’ve not heard you at all and perhaps you should have been more careful with your choice of wording but you were feeling a tiny bit reckless this Wednesday afternoon. He hadn't ever offered to personally fetch you from campus, and you felt incredibly juvenile when you spotted him standing there like a dad, in his grown-up suit while his briefcase hung in his hands in front of him. You'd almost convinced yourself that you were imagining things. That somehow your obsession with the man who kidnaps you every Wednesday to fulfill all his messed up fantasies was truly taking a toll on your mental health.

Fortunately, or perhaps unfortunately, he was real. And he had come to pick you up and you were feeling awfully giddy as he ushered you both into a taxi while a few of your peers stood and stared.

By now he would've blindfolded you. Keeping you completely clueless to the location he brings you to every Wednesday. See, your Salesman had myriad deep rooted issues. Mania. Sociopathy. Sadism. But the issue that irked you the very most was his inability to trust. Before you know it, you're pouting up a storm as you ask him. "Why aren't we using the blindfold today?"

He slowly removes his gaze from the window, where he had been pondering like the old man he is. He quirks up an eyebrow, letting the intensity of his attention wash completely over you.

"Would you like to be blindfolded?" He asks playfully. His eyes are sparkling with amusement and his lips are quirked up like it usually is when he's being sardonic. Still, you remain cautious as you lean forward. You send one quick glance to the taxi driver, wondering if you were being led in some kind of hearse on the road to your death.

"A-Are you going to kill me?" For the first time, cold, white fear ices the warm blood rushing through your veins. Come to think of it, he did seem far chirpier than usual. Perhaps that should have been your first warning. The flags were blood red but you were wearing rose-tinted glasses.

He only snickers before placing a heavy hand on your head, patting it down.

He doesn't answer you for the duration of the taxi drive, causing you to slip more and more into your thoughts of morbidity and despair. Why else wouldn't he blindfold you if not to end your life once you got there? It seemed dreadfully logical and so on-brand for him. He'd get bored of you sooner or later and then he'd dispose of you. There'd be no need to blindfold you any longer while he took you to his place because you'd soon become a corpse and-

"Doll." The voice cuts through the chatter filling your brain. All at once, the car has stopped, and warm air rushes into the interior as he holds the door open for you. "Get out of the nice man's car." He jests politely, quickly prompting you to unbuckle your seatbelt and scramble out of the taxi.

The second you're out he walks ahead of you. The building that comes into focus before you have your brows crinkling.

You quickly catch up to him, gazing up at his monotonous face. "Why are we here? You never come to my house."

He doesn't respond as you both walk into the foyer. He walks briskly and powerfully, like a man on the move while you send a small wave to the security manning the front desk. You both enter an empty elevator and he presses a button without you ever having to tell him which floor.

"You're going to kill me, aren't you?"

He lowers his gaze to you, one eyebrow quirked up.

"You only die when you disappoint me and as of late," he stares directly ahead, "You haven't disappointed me."

The elevator dings and he steps out. You follow him like a puppy without a leash. "In fact I'd say your work ethic as of late has been-" he blows out a long sigh as he makes it your apartment door- recalling all the weeks you two have spent together in vivid kaleidoscopic images. All the pain you let him inflict on you and pleasure he'd offer as a reward.

"-nothing short of stellar. I'm proud of you." He punches in the code to your apartment and you both enter. The curtains are drawn shut because your roommate hates sunlight. You preferred it but there was no communicating with something like her.

He kicks off his shoes at the door.

"What are we doing here?" You ask nervously, "My roommate will be back soon and she isn't very nice."

"We won't be playing at my place today." He says finally meeting your wild and nervous eyes. He seems so lax and so in control. "We'll be playing here."

"B-But my roommate."

"Is that why you were crying?" His gaze keeps you rooted to the floors, unable to move even if you wanted to, "Because of your roommate?"

"Crying? I wasn't crying-"

"Back at the university," he says, casually removing a microscopic piece of lint from his grey blazer, "Your head was beant and you looked up at me with bloodshot eyes." His eyes shine with amusement as he says, "Usually with our sessions, the crying only comes later on." Then he quirks his head and asks, "What happened?" There's a bang somewhere in the apartment and your head snaps forward. Your eyes scan over the adjoining living room and kitchen but he seems unfazed.

"It's stupid-" you shake your head, "Like who even still gets bullied in uni?"

You laugh pitifully, leaning against the nearest wall. He stands tall before you. A brick wall.

"Your roommate's threatening to kick you out of this apartment to move her boyfriend in?" He asks before adding, "Again."

Your head snaps up to him, "H-How-"

In that moment, he turns rather robotically, making his way deeper into your home. It's clean. Thank God.

"You don't realize how chatty you get when you're about to orgasm." He says before stopping right outside your closed bedroom door.

"My roommate- she... decided last night that- well- she would really like her boyfriend to live here instead-"

"Without consulting you first?" He clarifies, staring blankly ahead at the door, listening very attentively.

"Y-Yes without consulting me." You bring your hand to the doorknob, on your way to open it but he stops you with an iron grip around your wrist. You wince.

“Continue talking.” He says and you do.

"This morning they both kinda sprung on me that they'd like to be living here now. She went behind my back and already placed the deposit down our landlord, well," you clear your throat. "I might be homeless soon." You laugh but then swallow very thickly as the gravity of the situation falls onto your shoulders.

"And still you decided to have our sessions today?"

"If you'll have me," you nod.

"Remarkable." He replies. "Well I've never been very fond of my things or my toys getting dirty." He begins mysteriously as he places his hand directly over yours on the doorknob.

"Pardon?"

"I can't have my favorite toy living out on the street. Who knows what kind of animals would try to rape you or drug you or fucking stick their slimey dicks inside you-" he turns the doorknob, clicking your room open.

You're not even sure when this started happening. These 'private sessions' with your Salesman that quickly bled into something much more concerning. Before you knew it, he was seeping into your brain, polluting you with obsession. There had never ever been anyone else involved.

"What the hell did you do?" You ask, slowly entering your room to find two chairs placed directly in front of your bed. As soon as you enter, you hear the blood curdling, muffled screams being ripped from the throat of the two people strapped to those chairs.

"I'm protecting my investment," Says your Salesman as he pushes the door closed behind you.

Your feet feel like lead as you watch them and their panic-stricken eyes. There in front of you, they sit opposite one another, both with a haggard countenance and tears streaming down their cheeks.

At the sight of you, your roommate screams something horrid but it's muffled by the gag placed in her mouth, a gag the shape of a dog bone.

He's there too. The boyfriend. He's not as loud or as frantic as she is but he's significantly startled. His eyes are wild and vacant. The same gag.

"Oh my god-" you begin but he cuts in front of you, making his way to the couple seated across from each other.

"We're all gonna play a game- a quick one," He says, "Can't play for too long because I've been dying to get inside you since I saw those pretty little bloodshot eyes."

"Sir- I"

If you knew his name you might've screamed it in this moment. 'Sir' is your only point of reference to address the manic man in front of you.

This isn't right.

Right?

You're so confused, you barely register than you've thought out loud. It hits you as he slowly shrugs his blazer off.

"What isn't right is them thinking they can rape this apartment from underneath you." He says, folding it and placing it meticulously over your desk.

"I- have neighbors!?" You begin but he has a plan for that too.

"I had your room soundproofed since our first session." You're pushed into even more confusion.

"WHAT!? When did you even-"

"While you were at school-" he says before uncovering a handgun from his briefcase. A handgun and a silencer.

"Point is, Doll, I'm going to need you to play a game for me, ok?"

"DOLL!?" Comes your roommates' mortified and muffled cries.

"I need you to make one tiny decision for me." He says, screwing on the silencer onto the barrel of the revolver. It strikes you then that even when the mask is off, and the worst workings of his personality are on display for all to gaze upon, you still find him breathtakingly attractive.

"If-" tears burn the back of your throat, "If this room is soundproof why-why do you need a silencer?"

"I'm nothing if not a cautious man, you know this." Then his expression turns very grave and very dark as he says. "Don't you?"

“Yes, Sir,” you reply almost automatically. Like your need to respond to him- to please him, greatly overpowered your moral compass. “You're extremely cautious.”

Your roommate releases a shrill noise from the very back of her throat, her eyes pleading with the humanity she desperately tries to find in yours.

“Out of these two, he's my least favourite,” Your Salesman says, standing beside you. Eyes wild as he points his gun to the boyfriend's head.

“But this isn't about me,” he turns to face you, slowly dragging you gaze away from the victims that had once been your tormentors. You look up at him with a broken sob slipping through your lips. “I need you to choose.”

There it is.

His words seem to detonate what little fate you had in his humanity. There is nothing in his eyes except hedonism and violence.

"I'm going to have you to choose very quickly, baby-”

You're already shaking your head as frazzled braids tickle your shoulders. Your eyes find theirs and you immediately say, “I'm not going to do it.”

When you look at him again, you're almost horrified to find the smile that had once been on his face, completely wiped away. His face is a shadow and it strikes you way more than anything ever has. Something in you scolds you. It gnaws at you to make things right.

“Don't do that.” He says darkly. “Don't disappoint me.”

His hands -one still holding a gun- moves to cup both your cheeks. He cranes your neck further back, gazing deeply. “I can't have you living on the street.”

“You don't have to kill anyone-”

His jaw ticks, “Pick.”

“Sir…”

“You're disappointing me.”

All it takes is those three words to have your world crashing to the floor. Tears blur your vision as you raise a trembling finger.

“Him. I pick him.”

It's the first time you realized that you were brimming with codependency

Or stupidity.

Or maybe both

“That's a good girl.” He coos, pressing a kiss to your forehead. The father you never had.

He lets his eyes meet that of the boyfriend who is shaking and writhing in seat.

“What a good fucking girl I have, wouldn't you agree?” He asks the boyfriend yet he only cries and cries and cries. Meanwhile, you're bathing in the warm, milky words of praise.

"I suppose you wouldn't be able to agree to much in a second-"

He raises the gun.

Wait-" but the trigger is already pulled, and the bullet slices through the air and the deed is done.

It's remarkable how fast it travels. The speed of the bullet. Like it's competing with light itself. One moment his head is there and his brain is inside it, functioning like usual and the next moment, it's splattered all across my bedroom wall, coating your stuffed animals and drenching your pink bedding.

“You killed someone…”

“We killed someone, and you did such a good job. Now we're real rich people-”

You shake your head.

“Oh my fucking god we killed someone-”

It's stupid, but the first thought that comes to mind is-

“How- How am I gonna get the stain out!?”

“I'll get you new sheets, Doll, I promise…”

Meanwhile the roommate is crying and screaming her throat hoarse. You watch gravely as vomit soaks her gag.

“That's fucking disgusting.” He says before turning back to you. A spray of blood scatters across the side of his handsome face. He'd just committed murder and yet you still describe him as handsome.

“You're not disgusting at all.” He says, “You're so clean and beautiful.” His large hands rub over your face. “And now this apartment's yours. Ours. Maybe.”

Ours.

That word somehow affects you more than the murder you'd just lay witness to. It has you staring up at him with grateful, love-filled eyes. You're still scared but, you were his. And that was a powerful feeling. You'd never belonged to anyone before. Certainly not any man as handsome or smart as this. This isn't rose-tinted glasses anymore, it's rose-tinted vision.

“We killed someone.” You say. Solidifying the fact that you were a couple.

Your heart rages in its cage when his eyes nearly roll to the back of his head.

“Fuck yes we did,” he moans before smashing his lips down onto yours. Confusion and discomfort wage a terrific and bloody war inside you as he kisses you absolutely dizzy. Your insides are swirling and your stomach is turning at the sight of the blood drenching your walls.

he tips your head up, forcing his tongue in and he moans when you let him. Your tongues touch and coax and he pulls you in close.

“You know how good you looked when I picked you up earlier, Doll? I loved seeing those bloodshot eyes of yours.” He mumbles, “I just hated not being the one to make you cry.”

You sob something awful. The sound escapes you while your lips are still plastered to his.

“But this is all me,” he says proudly, gazing down at your watery eyes as he pins you up against the wall. “This is all me.”

Your roommate sits in a daze. Over his wide shoulder, her eyes stare blankly into yours and you almost find yourself mouthing the words 'I'm sorry'.

Almost. But you never do.

Your brain is too clouded by feelings of fear, regret, pleasure and… satisfaction. In your defense her boyfriend really fucking sucked.

"Take this off." He groans, lowering his large build to the floor to shove your shorts and underwear down. Undressing you almost formally as he lifts your one leg out followed by the other.

Your eyes are still on her.

Every vile word she's said to you. Every occasion she'd bring her equally cruel friends over and they'd gossip about you loud enough for their words to carry through the walls.

You realize very gravely that your care is waning.

That humanity that was still left inside you is thinning.

And he's pressing wet kisses against your legs, worshipping the soft cellulite at your thighs.

A man in a suit at his knees for you and she's forced to watch.

It makes you feel so-

"Fucking beautiful, fuck." He groans.

The more riled up he is, the less care he gives to how crass his language becomes. As if trapped in a daze, with your eyes still on your tormentor -your bully- you hook your fingers into his hair. Parting your legs you lead his mouth to your exposed cunt and he slurps you up for all your worth.

Your eyes roll to the back of your head as he eats you out with vigor. He flattens his tongue and suctions his mouth against your clit, causing a deep and guttural moan to spill from your lips.

He pulls back, breathing raggedly, "Fuck my face," he commands, before placing both hands on your ass, enough to have your cunt riding his open mouth. It feels so fucking good your eyes are stinging with tears. You let them fall because you'd know he'd appreciate it. He appreciates every tear in your confidence. Every waver in your air-tight judgement. It undoes him completely to see you so fucking pathetic.

He looks up at you while you're riding him. Those morally black eyes are urging you to hump his face and you do.

At the sight of your tears falling his nails dig into your ass and you moan more. All the sounds you're able to make are in intelligible sounds of pleasure. But you force yourself to come to your senses. Just long enough to whisper

"Th-Thank you, Sir,"

He stills. Completely stunned.

You come. It crashes down on you all while your roommate tries to squeeze her crying eyes shut, shaking her head as if trying to delude herself into believing none of this is real.

"You are fucking fire, you know that?" He croaks, slowly rising. You're breathing oh so quickly and it only speeds up at the sight of your arousal casting his jaw.

“I wanna fucking hurt you so bad. I wanna eat you. I wanna fuck you. I wanna do so many unspeakable things to you- you're so perfect.”

He throws one more gaze over his shoulder. His almond eyes scan over the body, then the girl and he groans, furiously undoing his belt.

"How the fuck did I get so lucky?” he says, almost to himself.

"Answer me." He presses his body firmly against yours, until your spine is straight against the wall. "Fucking answer me when I talk to you."

He growls before bringing a hand up to your chin. It's painful the way he grabs you, but you're so used to pain. It lives here now. Between you both.

"I-I- don't know-" you really don't know and he melts at that.

"I'll tell you how, Princess. " he wraps your leg around his waist, "People like me- people we call crazy and evil-” His eyes are so wide, his smile too. -we get nice things. And people like that-" he quirks his head backwards, “The weak? Those people on the streets, they die.” He says, grinding his cock agaisnt your cunt, “And we don't die, yeah?"

"Oh fuck." You're seeing stars when his cock sinks into your cunt. It's hard and raging and he's already doing multiple shallow thrusts to force it deeper. "S-So big-" you can't talk, you hardly ever can when he's like this. Fucking you into an absolute frenzy.

"You gonna squirt for me, Doll?” he grits his teeth, hips stuttering as he ravages you against the wall. "F-Fuck." Some

“She's a really good squirter-” he turns his head to watch your roommate over his shoulder. Her head is slumped forward, she's fainted perhaps.

After weeks of trying to impress him, to show him that you were not the weak little thing he had first kidnapped- you realize it's paid off. He caveman grunts as he fucks you deeper and harder and a cry rips itself from your throat.

“Y-You want me?” You ask with trembling lips.

“Baby,” he breathes directly into your mouth. “I need you.”

"F-Fuck-" your orgasm sneaks up on you and he watches with immense gratification as you come undone on his cock.

“You're making a mess on my cock-” clear liquid streams out of hou, threatinging tk lush his cock out but he fucks you through it.

“Gonna fucking cum inside you, baby. You're gonna take it, aren't you? My good girl's gonna fucking take it,” he throws his head back as his eyes flutter closed and soon he's fucking spurts of warm cum into you.

It fills you completely until the mess is coating your thighs. Through your wave of endless euphoria you see stars, the planets and him in the very centre of it all, guiding you and coaxing you through the bountiful high.

Even when he's done, his cock is still nestled deep inside you, pushing you over the brink of stimulation.

"You're very promising.” He admits, “Always have been.”

© to @muntitled on tumblr; do not repost

[icecream4starscream]

Spoiler Warning for Transformers One. Please go see the film, it's great.

Something occurred to me when rewatching Elita-1's firing scene:

Right off the bat, she's presented as an absolute unit in the mines. We see her being a very by-the-book character. She's incredibly competent, strong, serious, focused, and an effective leader.

Maybe a little too effective.

We learn that Sentinel goes out of his way to personally take care of any "anomalies" in his system and does so in a way where the blame always gets shifted away from him.

It's why he personally went to see Pax and D-16 after the Iacon 5000 race. He makes himself out to be the open-minded, compassionate leader he's been parading as.

When Darkwing throws Orion and D-16 into sub-level 50, neither bot suspects Sentinel for their demotion. In fact, they beg Darkwing to talk to Sentinel so he can sort out the "misunderstanding".

It's later confirmed that Sentinel never had any intention of talking with Orion or D-16 after their first meeting. When Orion reunites with his fellow miners later in the film, they mention that Sentinel put out a statement saying that they both died from "racing injuries".

Sentinel might've not even openly ordered Darkwing to dispose of them. Darkwing might've been manipulated into thinking everyone was mocking him for losing the race (thanks to lowly miners) making him want to get rid of them.

Subconsciously manipulating someone like Darkwing would've been easy for Sentinel.

Sentinel clearly does not tolerate anyone rising above the station he imposes on them.

So what does this have to do with Elita-1 being fired?

We see her rigidly following the rules, meeting all quotas, running a tight and efficient crew. She's doing her job as a miner, a role unknowingly forced upon her by Sentinel, perfectly.

Shouldn't Sentinel be happy about that?

Well sure...

If Elita wasn't actively trying to get promoted.

We don't get a lot of information about how promotion works in TFOne's mining system, but we do know that in other iterations of pre-war Cybertron, one of the only ways miners could rise out of the mines was by participating in ridiculously difficult gladiatorial fights in Kaon's pits.

In other iterations, this was how D-16/Megatron was able to escape his station and how he grew to be so strong.

So basically, whatever version you look at, the miners are told "if you work really, reeeeally hard, and do your job perfectly, and don't die in the process (which, odds are, you will) you might, MIGHT get a chance to get out of the caste you were born into."

It's BS.

It's an impossible feat. No one is actually supposed to be able to achieve that goal, but it's the metaphorical carrot dangling in front of the work mules so they don't notice the ever-tightening rope around their necks.

But every so often there's someone extraordinary, like Elita, who actually manages to meet this impossible standard and with whom it becomes increasingly difficult to deny this coveted promotion.

So what can Sentinel do about bots like Elita-1?

Simple.

Wait for a screw-up.

It must happen eventually.

A member of Elita's team, Orion Pax, in clear violation of evacuation protocol, goes back into the mines to save Jazz from getting crushed to death.

Despite managing to escape, the closing mine causes a tunnel support to be flung into nearby machinery (which doesn't look critical and could probably be easily fixed).

Then, right the heck outta nowhere, Darkwing drops in, SECONDS AFTER THE INCIDENT JUST HAPPENED, and immediately fires Elita.

No "What happened?" or "Who's responsible?" or "The supervisor wants to see you", he just pops into the scene and demotes Elita, arguably one of the best workers in the mine, to a bottom-tier waste management position.

As if he'd been on standby, actively waiting for a reason to fire her.

"But Elita herself wasn't the one who screwed up!"

Doesn't matter.

"But she told them to follow protocol!"

Doesn't matter.

"But Orion admitted he was the one at fault!"

Doesn't matter.

"But a bot was saved! Jazz would've died!"

Does. Not. MATTER.

Her firing is presented as the typical "one character says thing won't happen then thing immediately happens" joke, but given how so much thought went into so much of TFOne's background details, I can't help but wonder if this was a hint to how broken the system was and how it was always rigged in a way that ensures the miners will never get out.

Not to mention, once Orion, D-16, and Jazz safely escape, she chews Orion out by saying, "If I get fired for this..." meaning this abrupt, out-of-nowhere, baseless firing is absolutely typical.

That's what makes Elita's "I'm better than you" speech to Orion that much more meaningful, because in many ways, she is better than him.

She's a better worker, better fighter, better at completing the task at hand, better at making sure things run smoothly. She is, ironically enough, an efficient and perfectly-running machine.

But had Orion not dragged Elita to the surface, she probably would've spent her whole life obediently following the rules, never questioning why things were the way they were. She was so focused on rising up within the system that she could never look beyond it.

Elita might be the cog by which other cogs turn.

But Orion is the spark that shows them a better way.

That's why he was given the Matrix.

[words-4u]

healing hands - f.l

pairing: frank langdon x nurse f!reader

wc: 1.2k

a/n: a lil rusty after a year and a half of not writing so forgive me but i am so pitt-pilled. love this show soooo much

the PTMC is sometimes one of the best places to be. every shift is full with fresh faces and most often than not, people getting a new lease on life with life saving/changing surgeries but other times, like today, it's the last place you and your fellow practitioners want to be... and yet you push through.

"okay jason, you're gonna feel some pain but it will be over before you know it," you say to the patient sitting across from you. it's an easy case, a late twenty something came in with serious shoulder pain. you were able to diagnose it off of first glance.

"what like now, here?" the look on his face made you smile. "trust me you'll be fine."

you scoot over on a stool with wheels.

"got a girlfriend, jason? boyfriend?" you ask as you take the affected arm, putting it on your shoulder.

"single but dating in pittsburgh is hell," he winces.

"on any apps?"

"tried tinder but i'm-- AAAHH," he yells out. you pushed down on his arm and realigned into his socket. his eyes almost fall out of his head when he whips his head over to you.

you try to mask a smile.

"hurts less when you don't expect it," you say apologetically.

as you take off your gloves robby walks over. "y/n, need. any help?"

"nope, just a shoulder dislocated which i just corrected. jason here just needs a brace and some ibuprofen for the pain," you say with a smile.

"good, can i talk to you for a second?" robby motions his head over to an empty hallway.

"of course," you say. "hey, princess, can you finish this off? just a brace and ibuprofen."

"got it!" princess says, continuing where you left off.

you walk off with robby. he stops you placing his finders on your elbow.

"how are you?" he asks, more sincerely tis time.

"good as i can be. what's up?" you notice his small smile turn into an uncomfortable look.

"robby, what's going?"

"listen, i know i'm not supposed to know about you and frank but he needs you right now," he says in a low tone.

"i- okay," you manage to say. how else do you respond to your boss saying he knows about your secret, clearly no-so-secret, workplace romance. "um... langdon, w-where is he?"

"ambulance bay. i sent him outside to get some air,"

you nod. "okay, thanks robby," you say moving out of the hallway and trying to making it outside without running.

the ambulance bay door opens and you are hit with the cool evening air. you whip your head around trying to find your boyfriend until you see it, two feet on the back of a parked ambulance.

the shuffle of your feet alerted him to our presence. he sniffles trying to wipe the tears off his face, he stops when he sees it's you. his eyes soften but voice still rigid.

"shouldn't you be with a patient?" he asks.

"i was. robby told me where you were," you softly. "frank, what happened?"

"it's nothing, really, i'm okay," he says and you both know it's a lie. his still covered in blood.

you move closer to him and without saying a word you reach your hands around his neck and untie the white disposable surgical gown coloured with dry blood. you scrunch it up and put it to the side.

"i know you don't like to talk about these things, that you think keeping it in is somehow better... but i'm here, frank." you say taking a seat next to him. you place a hand on his knee, stroking your thumb up and down.

for a moment you just sit there listening to him catch his breath. frank langdon's not one to share his hardships. you try your best to coax it out of him but you've learned he'll share what's on his mind and heart when he's ready.

"she was young," he began. you look at him, ready to take on the sadness that was weighing on him. "not child young but mid to late 20s. it was her fucking wedding day"

you fully take his left hand now holding it between yours.

"she came in with her husband, blood all over her gown. it was liver failure and i tried... we tried everything, did all the right steps. we intubated, we got her more blood, reduced her ammonia levels and it was looking good for a while until..."

frank gets choked up again.

"she had cerebral edema i was so focused on what i could see that i wasn't paying attention to thing i couldn't. i didn't see the full picture,"

"hey, no. no, frank we don't do this," you say. "we don't blame ourselves for things we can't control."

"i could've saved her, y/n, she died on her wedding day. her husband is a widow at the age of 30 because of me," the hurt was clear in his voice.

"if she succumbed to her brain injury that quickly there was nothing you, nor dr. garcia or anyone could have done to save her," you say. you see him nod slightly but he needs more convincing.

"look at me," you say softly. "hey..."

you take your fingers and move frank's head to face you. "you're one of the best fucking doctors i know, okay? i don't have to have been there to know that you gave it your absolute all just like you do for everyone who walks through those doors seeking help. you have healing hands, frank, but sometimes it's just out of our control and we have to live with that. you know this."

he nods more definitively this time.

"i just kept picturing you," he says honestly and you're slightly taken aback. "i know i shouldn't have but i couldn't help it,"

"i'm here... and i'm okay," you say moving even closer. you loop your arm through his and lay your head on his shoulder. your fingers laced with his. "you're not getting rid of me that easily."

frank chuckles. "yeah, i guess you're right," he kisses your head before resting his head on yours.

after a moment, you ask, "…who the hell told robby about us?"

you feel frank still under you. you pick your head up and face him with an accusatory look. "frank..."

"we were in the lounge together last week and he maybe saw a glimpse of my contact photo for you when you called," he said super quickly.

"the one of us in bed?!!? oh god, my boss knows what my sex hair looks like," you put your head in your hands, very embarrassed.

frank laughs. like a real belly laugh. and while you were still mortified at the though of robby seeing that picture, it was even better to hear him laugh like that.

"i'm glad my trauma bring you pleasure," you joke, slightly shoving him.

frank leans in and whispers, "that's not the thing of yours that brings me pleasure,"

this time you laugh, "shut up," you say cupping his face pulling him in for a kiss. frank tries to deepen it but you break away.

you get up from the back of the ambulance. "c'mon, lover boy. you got lives to save."

you hold out your hand and he takes it.

"we got lives to save," he says back to you, finally getting up.

[everythingspokenfor]

𝑾𝒐𝒓𝒌 𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒓𝒔 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑶𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒕𝒊𝒎𝒆

⚘ Pairing: Bakugou x reader

⚘ Summary: Bakugou tries to figure out why you work so hard while you try to live a quiet life.

Usually people don't plan their own birthday parties, but this really wasn't just your birthday, Shindo had finally entered the hero rankings, and to you that was a big achievement.

The cake although small, still had lots of embellishments made of chocolate, each one something he loved. You had been excited, bouncing around the tiny one bedroom apartment, having decorated the living room to the best of your abilities you waited for him to come home.

Shindo had been your best friend since kindergarden, always having looked after you, he was 4 years older than you, your parents being neighbours really added onto your friendship.

He had a quirk, you didn't, that didn't matter, at least not to you, he went to U.A. while you prepared for local colleges, it was difficult initially, he was working as a rookie, barely meeting ends, while you had just started college, when you suggested to move in together, you both got a apartment together just before your nineteenth birthday.

Maybe you were blinded by your feelings for him, but somewhere along the way you had failed to realise that maybe this really wasn't the Shindo you grew up with, he worked 4 days a week, his patrol hours merged into those 4 days, rest he spend at clubs, bars and other places where he could mask the smell of rotting soul with liquor.

One of your friends had suggested you work at one of the clubs you attended, said it was an easier way to earn money. Shindo knew about this offer, and he was the one to encourage you to get this job, especially considering you lacked a quirk, people like you, don't usually get chances like this after all.

Majority of people wanted to see the bartender or dancer with some or the other flashy quirks, if you were being honest, that department also preferred people that had quirks.

So, you get that job, work as a bartender first, then as an dancer, though you knew going further would increase you pay 10-folds, you still refused any other offers, the owner was kind enough to not push you too much, even keeping an eye out for you, making sure no creeps made you uncomfortable.

For one thing that Shindo was right, it was the pay, college became easier when you only had to spend 4 hours at one job instead several hours at 2 separate jobs, you could afford rent, afford your degree, afford groceries, maybe you hated yourself a little, maybe you hated not having a quirk but at least you could afford to live.

Shindo doesn't show up that day, the icing melting off the cake, dinner cooled to the core, all the decor you put up for him, seemed like a little pity party for yourself.

You make an excuse on his behalf, he must have gotten busy, he was a hero afterall, one of the top heroes now, he probably wanted to come but couldn't make it.

So, you rub your eyes, hoping to clear up your vision, and clean around the house, he'll come tomorrow to a clean house, you'll congratulate him then.

Unfortunately, he doesn't come home the next day or the day after, or even weeks later, all you end up getting is a text, saying that he is sorry, you only see him in billboards, on t.v. screens, no longer in person, he becomes a stranger.

You see him again, a month later, at the club, surrounded by his friends, celebrating another achievement you suppose. As much as you try to avoid him, you couldn't, not when you almost ran into him.

"Fancy running into you," he gloats, before continuing, "here." As if he wasn't aware of your predicament.

"I work here, Grand, have been for almost a year." You wish your voice did quiver, wish you could handle his presence with ease.

You knew he was an asshole, but he was your friend too, you shouldn't have been so disposable to him. Feeling your eyes gloss over, you turn to leave the counter, few minutes worth of break won't really put the club out of business.

"Hey!" Shindo follows you out, his bigger steps helping him easily crowd you into the hallway.

"What do you want, Shindo?" You sob out, back of your hand pressed tightly against your eye, only managing to smear your tears.

There was no good excuse to justify his behaviour, Shindo knows that much, cutting off all contacts with you abruptly just because he didn't see you fit in his new circle was a shitty thing to do.

Hero rankings is a twisted concept, although multiple informative outlets and news sources claim that these are based solely on work of hero on the field everyone knows it's all about popularity, who has more endorsement, who participated in more ad campaign, whose face is more often planted on the Billboard.

Maybe, seeing his face so often without yours really made me think he was better off without you.

"I wanted to explain myself." He doesn't believe his own words, deep down he knows he fucked up when he assumed that you'll always be around, even when he wasn't.

Your eyes narrowed, cheeks flushed red as big tears dribbled down, "I don't want it." There is defeat in your voice, maybe he beg his way back in your life. "I don't want anything," you breathe, philtrum glossy with tears and runny nose, "I don't want you, I don't want explanation, I want fucking distance between us." You shoved him, he staggers back, your words more of a force than your push.

"You are exhausting, Shindo." You wipe your cheeks, turning towards the back room.

"At least give me a fucking chance to explain."

"Explain what?! That I am some kind of a burner friend? Huh, you left without a word, without a fucking goodbye," You sucked kn a deep breath, alright feeling exhausted, "without any explanation back then, what's makes you think it'll be different now."

Shindo watches you walk away again, knowing that he really couldn't fix this mess.

----

The days only get more tiring, your shifts at the club exhausting you more than ever, you wonder if this might be a good time to apply else where.

Ever since you ran into Shindo there, you have been more tired than usual, you tried changing your working time, even took few days off but the prospect of running into him made it difficult.

You supposed that taking on a new job wouldn't be so difficult, afterall you only worked for 4 hours in the evening, you could afford to get a second job, it'll just add up to your savings as well as give you lesser time with your thoughts.

You applied to bunch of hero agencies, knowing that they have a tendency to hire quirkless individuals to help them financially. A peace offering probably, Oh! You don't have a quirk, here, have a desk job.

Out of all the agencies that you had applied to, only few smaller ones replied within few days, you did expect that, no bigger agency would pick you, considering your lack of experience and expertise.

However, one bigger agency did reach out to you immediately, suggesting an interview and immediately a job.

You didn't expect to be hired by Dynamight's agency within 3 days of applying, his agency was the fasted to respond, already planning to give you the employee badge when you mentioned living close by.

It's takes a 20 minute call and some questions before you were officially hired.

----

The building is a lot bigger than what you anticipated, especially considering your department in Dynamight's agency, biodata and informatics, something that requires perseverance more than the degree.

Your job required you to sit in front of the computer, 8 hours a day, typing away details of whatever crimes had been dealt with that day. From the complete background of the criminals to what the victims had to say, every action taken and what nots.

It used to be easy, at least in the beginning when you had to do reports for just Dynamight and Red Riot, eventually workload got more as more heroes realised that they could dump their paperwork and reports onto you.

You adapted, working overtime, getting it all done, what more could you really do, they were heroes and you, well you were just you.

The first time you ran into Pro-Hero Dynamight, it was christmas eve, the office was completely empty, at least your department, majority of people had holiday, some took leave while others attended a half-day, you on the other hand were working overtime.

It was almost 10 in the evening, the sky completely black, the office was dim too, on the light in the lobby and your little cubicle illuminated, still having few reports left you got up to make yourself a cup of coffee.

It's complete silent when you enter the pantry, hands blindly reaching for expensive coffee beans stacked on the shelves, it's all mundane, a little break before you get back to typing, the machine rings, indicating your coffee is done, you grasp the handle of the mug, slowly bringing it to your lips, sipping at the hot beverage.

You turn around, only to be startled to find a hulking figure standing at the entrance. Letting out a shriek, you almost lose balance, his hand shoots out, steadying you by your wrist, before grabbing your cup and placing it on the counter.

"What are ye' still doin' here?" Bakugou grunts, eyes squinting as he takes in your form.

"Shouldn't I be asking that, jeez!" You blurted, the fact that it was Pro-Hero Dynamight and not some random co-worker registering after words had already left your mouth. You stare at him with wide eyes, a constipated grimace forming on your lips.

He quirks his eyebrow, watching as you inwardly cringe at your tone, "It's my agency, I can be here whenever I want." He moves forward, coming to stand mere inches away, "You, on the other hand, should be at home."

"I have work... Sir." You answer, heart still racing, as you looked at your boss, he continues to stare at you, before turning to leave.

"Should be at home on holidays, typewriter." And he is out the hallway. You don't think your first meeting was significant, don't even think he remembered you after few days.

Weeks pass on, and your work continues to grow, more heroes depositing there reports on your desk, with half-assed promises to give a word in your promotion.

Today was your fourth day in a row, working overtime, the days had only gotten longer, more files piling up than you'd like to admit.

You are alone in the office, or at least you were till few moments ago, your boss no longer sneak around you, maybe the initial jump scare allowed you to evolve a new mechanism to detect his presence.

You assume it's his usual round, he has made a habit of lingering in the department, more often than his did, more often than he should. He walks in, through the main entrance, looking around eyeing everyone thoroughly, before walking back out.

Today, or tonight considering it's almost 11 in the evening, he doesn't follow the routine, instead of walking back out, he walks towards your cubicle, you scramble slightly, suddenly hyper aware of his presence.

"You've made a habit of staying here past the office hours." He leans against the thin walls, arms crossed, muscles bulging through his sky blue shirt, you ogle his build for a minute before meeting his eyes.

"I am not really done yet and I don't want to leave reports for tomorrow." Your answer is the same, work made you stay here.

"How many reports did they hand ya?" He grunts, walking towards you, before crouching down slightly, one hand behind the headpiece of your chair, other typing in your work computer. Oh, dang, you can smell his post workout, musky sweaty, delici-, You straighten your back, hoping to pull yourself out of your sudden inappropriate thoughts.

You don't really know what he is doing, opening all the previous reports you had written. You watch as his expression shifts, brows furrowing as he clicks his tongue.

"Did ya' do all these reports?"

"I did(?)" You muttered sheepishly, wondering had you somehow fucked up every single report and now he is going to fire you.

"How long have ye' been doing other people's work?" He turns his head sharply, his nose almost touching yours, you back up a little, he looks furious.

"It's nothi-"

"That's not what I asked."

"Few weeks now, since Christmas I think."

He doesn't reply, instead he stands up straighter, hand coming up to rub his face, he lets out an exhausted sigh, looking over to your hunched form.

"Take few days off, I'll get these done."

"But-" He doesn't let you start, instead walking out the cubicle, the faint ding of the elevator indicative of his departure.

You are still shocked, hands moving absent-mindedly as you gathered your belongings wonder how long was your sudden holiday, what did the agency consider few days.

You returned to work in 2 days, the silence of your apartment gnawing at your skin, you brain overthinking and conjuring up images of you getting fired, so after 2 days off, you are back.

Everything seems normal, apart from the wariness of people around you, everyone seemed more cautious, not necessarily avoiding you but not out right being in your way either.

None of the heroes showed up at your desk either, you wonder for a moment, if you had perhaps been fired, maybe that's why no one gave you work, cause you had no work.

Alas, bliss didn't last long when you spied 2 rookies heroes glancing your way from the lobby, one of the narrowed his eyes at you before scoffing and walking away, what was up with him today?, not really paying much mind to it, you got to checking your emails, trying to gather all the work that might be pending.

You had forgotten what it's like to not be burdened by work, already having finished all of it by noon, you ventured into the cafeteria, in hopes of finding something to eat. Usually the chefs prepared fresh meals throughout the day, Dynamight forcing all his staff to eat better.

You hadn't really been to cafeteria before, always busy during lunch time and often on coffee breaks during dinner. The cafeteria is spacious, had tables ranging from large tables for groups to smaller individual booths. You greeted the staff, moving to grab a plate.

The food smelled divine, you grabbed the bowl of katsudon from the server's hand and went to one of the solo booths, the idea of sitting with others hand being too intimidating for you, baby steps it was.

You were enjoying your food, along with the view of the city, when a large figure slipped into the booth beside yours, instinctively you hunched forward, face nudging deeper into the space of the booth, intending to avoid interacting with anyone at all cost.

"Ye' normally have a shitty posture or is it just 'round me?" Your could recognise his gruff voice anywhere, his existence becoming more and more prominent into your daily routine.

"It's not that bad," You mumbled, laying chopsticks flat to make sure you don't take a bite when he is asking something, sitting up straighter turning towards him, your curiosity gets better of you and you queried "Did you scold the other heroes?"

He narrows his eyes at you, lips forming a scowl, "Did someone say anything to you?" Before he looks over your shoulder, narrowing his eyes at anyone that looked towards you both.

"No! I was just asking," You look down at your bow! of food, "The reports reduced by alot, so I was just wondering."

"That's 'cause now ye' are doin' what ye' are supposed to." He grumbled, "No longer picking up others slack."

"I didn't mind it," You mindlessly fiddle with your chopsticks, "They probably have better work to do, like save the world."

He turns to eye you, judgement clearly visible in his gaze, "Having other duties doesn't give 'em an excuse to dump their shit on others." He retorts, chugging water from the glass, "Next time some rookies tries to give ye' work, tell 'em to ask Dynamight first."

"I'll keep that in mind, Sir Dynamight."

"Tsk, it's just Bakugou to ya."

He watches you nod your head slightly, before going back to stabbing your chopsticks into katsudon, he observes as you pick out chilli from the meal and scrap if off the side of the bowl.

"You don't like chilli."

"I don't like spicy food." You shake your head slightly. You watch him nod at your words before he steps out of his chair, grabbing the empty plates and walking towards the kitchen.

You immediately notice the change in menu the next day and every day after, there were more savoury items listed.

----

In his own was Bakugou starts looking after you, making sure others don't bother you, leaving a little later than usual, so he could drive you home on some days.

"You are attending the Gala, aren't you?" Mitsuki queried, sharp eyes looking at him directly.

Bakugou avoids her gaze, suddenly more interested in the food she had brought, "It's a Valentine's event, Ma." He answers, leaning over the table to grab water, "Requires a plus one, you and I both know I don't have time for that." He chugs in half the bottle in one go.

"So, you don't have time to invest in a relationship." Bakugou nods his head, eyes meeting her's. "But, you have time to drive her home, every other day." Mitsuki watches delightfully as the colour drains off Bakugou's face, before it returns in a rosy shade of red, starting at his ears.

"It's not like that, Ma I am just helping her." He defends, huffing and crossing his arms, his tone is even though, he isn't mad just shy, he has grown, Mitsuki notes, perhaps had it been a decade ago, she would tease him back, but maybe she grew as well, she suppose.

"It's not necessary for you to attend that Gala," She begins, eyeing his again, "or tell me about your personal activities," Bakugou groans at her choice of words, feeling himself cringe as his mother pretends to be professional about the situation.

"Your dad will be here in a bit, I'll be out of your hair soon," She remarks, looking at clock, before she starts packing up the tupperware.

"How did you-" He stops mid-sentence, as if contemplating, before he begins again,"How did you figure it out?"

"I am your mother, kid, I know everything." Mitsuki snickers at the groan Bakugou lets out.

----

"-namight called us to his office yesterday, apparently the new bitch in data management department complained." One of the interns grunts, followed by curses.

Another intern quips, "Pretty sure he just have a soft spot for quirkless losers." He stops before continuing, "afterall desks jobs are the only thing they are good at." Both of them laugh, turning to walk out the changing rooms, only to be abruptly stopped by Kirishima's large frame, a wide, almost predatory grin spreading on his face.

"Now kids, that isn't really a good way to talk about people." He chimed, moving to pat both their backs roughly, "Why don't you do early morning patrols as well, for a week?" He assigns them work, before walking out, ignoring their groans of protest.

Kirishima enters Bakugou's office without knocking, years of knowing each other gave him the permission to barge into his personal space whenever.

"Heard you reprimanded few rookies this week?" Kirishima begins, eyeing Bakugou who was hunched over his gauntlets, tinkering away, "It's very unlikely for you to interact with interns, you don't even take interns?" He continues.

"Some of your interns don't know how to do their jobs," Bakugou grunts, not bothering to look at Kirishima, "had to set them straight while you weren't here."

"That's understandable, Bakubro." He grins, Bakugou can already feel the headache brewing, this fucker is up to no good, "What about the menu, why are there so many changes?" Kirishima leans in, making sure Bakugou can't avoid his eyes.

"'Cause some employees can't handle spice, that's why, Eijirou."

The use of his first name doesn't deter, Kirishima, infact it only adds fuel to the fire, so there is more to this.

"All these changes for one employee," He chimes, "Does Bakubro have a C-R-U-S-H, a crus-?" A pillow cuts off Kirishima's singing, he snorts before looking at Bakugou again.

Although Kirishima remains silent for the rest of his stay, his teasing grin is enough to make Bakugou groan.

----

You walk into the office to see him resting on the sofa with his head back and eyes closed. Placing the reports in his desk, eyes locking onto his face before your turn to look through the large windows. Watching the city comes to life, as people turn on the decorative lights once the evening sets in.

"You are still here." His voice is hoarse, yet it holds no emotion, just a simple statement.

"It's still 4 in the evening, I am not working overtime."

His lips quirk up, a grin almost plastering on his lips, "I meant you working on a yer birthday." He sits up straight, hands pressed together in his lap, he was wearing his suit pants with a t-shirt, an odd combination that he somehow pulled off.

Your eyebrows furrow when you register his words, after you finished oogling him, how did he know it's your birthday.

"Well I had nothing better to do."

"Don't ye' celebrate with family and friends." His head tilts slightly, genuine curiosity peaking through, he looks younger when he isn't frowning, a boyish charm that refuses to leave him.

"I don't," you mutter out, hoping that he doesn't expect you to complete your sentence. You don't know how you'll explain to him that you haven't celebrated your birthday in past 2 years, and the last time you did, you regretted spending saved up money for someone that didn't even want to be there.

Not that you celebrated before that, family was never really there, and your friends well they had better things to do.

You watch him contemplate, biting the inside of his cheek before gets up and grabs his car keys, "let's go," you standing puzzled. "Why aren't you coming?"

"Where?" You queried, looking at him perplexed. You followed him, feet picking up the pace to match his long strides.

"Somewhere, anywhere." He spoke, almost wishfully, like he was lost in a trance filled with plethora of places to be. "We are going to have a late lunch, or maybe an early dinner."

Your steps halted, "Don't you have work, plus my shift isn't over yet."

"Why do ye keep forgettin' that I own this agency, a little break isn't going to get you fired, typewriter." He spoke, a soft smirk plastering on his lips as he watch you speed up, confusion still lingered on your face but you still followed him.

You had to jog a little, to keep up with his long strides, still having no idea what he was planning on doing, you were left to follow him.

The diner he chose for the was something hidden well into the city walls, small little shop tucked away from the busy streets, there were only 3 people working there, all of them seemed to treat Bakugou like their family.

Greeting him warmly as he entered, the old lady smiling sweetly as she pinched at his cheeks, berating him for not visiting often.

The lady immediately nudges him aside as you catch her eye, her soft wrinkled hands coming to cradle your forearms, her eyes twinkled as she looked at you, "She is really pretty Sparkles, you certainly have a good taste." Her words make you turn towards Bakugou immediately, eyes widened as you tired to understand what she meant.

"You got it all wrong, she isn't my- I don't-" He fumbles his words, despite the situation you find it endearing, watching him flustered.

"Oh, hush now! We all know how this one is going to end." She lets out a mischievous giggle as she winks at you, pulling you towards one of the booth, Bakugou follows behind, refusing to meet your eyes.

The space is cozy, decorated with warm light dangling overhead, she places a menu in front of you both, corners crinkled and torn with time, before she disappears into the kitchen.

"So..." You dragged out, eyes lingering on Bakugou's face, he narrows his eyes suspiciously, "do you have any recommendations, Sparkles." You bite your lip, trying to seem non-chalant, failing miserably as you duck you head to giggle.

When you lift your head back up, you are prepared to see him seething with rage, ready with threats to skin you alive, however, that isn't the case, he is looking at you, eyes soft and lips parted, only to lower his head instantly the moment he caught your eye.

Bakugou avoids your eyes as you continue looking at him expectedly, like you asked a question, which he realises you did, "Everything is good here!" It's abrupt and vague, he lowers his head again looking at the menu, "Curry rice is good, it's also least spicy thing on the menu." He remarks, hoping you didn't catch his loss of composure.

"Right, so I'll get a serving of curry rice."

It doesn't take the staff long, to prepare your dishes, placing your respective orders on the table within 20 minutes.

You immediately dig in, cheeks puffing up slightly as you take a big big of the delicious curry rice, you hear a chuckle in front of you, eyes immediately darting ahead to look at Bakugou, you furrow your brows slightly, questioning him.

"You look like a chipmunk that found treasure of peanuts." He snorts, watching as confusion along with amusement spread on your face.

You chew up the remaining food, swallowing with a sip of water. "What can I say, this is good."

You both continue eating, chatting in between, the sun sets slowly behind the horizon, gradually painting the sky in warm colours, by the time you were done, it was already 8 in the evening.

The old lady, bids you farewell, warm hands clutching yours as she turns her head to tell Bakugou to bring you here often.

Bakugou grumbles something under his breath, before slowly guiding you to the car.

----

The car comes to a hault, stopping in front of your apartment complex, you open the gate, stepping out the car, Bakugou steps out too, jogging around, coming to stand beside you.

"I had it." You mumbled, eyes darting towards your watch, you still had an hour before your shift at the club started.

"I know you did." He rasps, smooth fingers coming to gently take your work bag off your shoulders, he moves back a little, waiting for you to guide him to your apartment.

"Thank you for today, I suppose." You face him, eyes locking with him, "You really didn't have to take time out of your da-"

"I wanted to." He moves closer, hand coming to rest behind your head on the car door, "Everyone deserves a little treat on their birthday." He said with finality.

You nod your head, before turning slowly, feets aching slightly as you moved to the building, he can see you biting your lips, fingers fiddling with the lose strap of your wrist watch, you take a deep breath before turning towards him, "I wasn't expecting guests, the apartment is a bit of a mess." You utter, sheepishly shuffling into the elevator.

"Just walkin' ye back to yer house, typewriter," He looks skeptical, like he doesn't really believe you, "I've got other places to be."

You move out the elevator and head to your apartment, unlocking your door, hands coming to take your bag from him, he watches you walk into your apartment, closing the door behind you. You watch him, through the window, walking out the building into his car, before driving away.

----

"No, thank you, I had dinner a while ago." You politely decline one of the customer's offer for a dinner date, he insists again, before Martin slides beside you.

"Hey! Big man, is the dinner offer valid for me too." The guy instantly retreats at his cheery tone, sensing the unhinged energy radiating off your boss.

"You didn't have to harass him like that, Marty." You whip the glass countertop, drying your hands before handing him a shot, "You'll drive away customers."

He huffs in your direction, swiftly swiping away the glass, sassy motherfu-, "There is no need for such losers here." He downs the shot.

He watches you snort at his response before going back to making drinks, passing tabs to other employees for payments to be made.

"Why are you happy?" He blurts, you give him a nasty side eye instantly, "Sorry, sorry, wrong choice of words, I was wondering," He starts, correcting himself, "You have been happy these days, giddy even, like genuinely enjoying life, i haven't seen this look on you in forever."

You look at Martin, bewildered, "I don't know, I just haven't been having a hard time lately," You spoke, slowly your work so you could take to him, days have indeed been easier, somehow your sleep schedule was fixed despite working late nights.

"Is it because your new boss is hot." He queried, gaze scanning you up and down, "You aren't going to leave your dear Marty, for your new hot boss right?"

You giggle at his words, partly shy because yes, Bakugou was indeed hot. "No, Marty I am not going to leave you for him."

"So, he is hot, what else is good about him, other than his immense hotness?"

You look at Martin for a moment, "He is nice, I suppose." You mumbled, as your mindlessly fiddled with the glasses around you.

"Nice? Really, that's all you have to say about mister hot blonde?"

"Well, he is sweet and considerate too, he scolded the interns that were handing me extra work, he even changed the menu at the lunch area to include less spicy food," You quiet down, realising that you may have ranted a bit, "He is still my boss though, so no funny business."

"We'll see about that."

----

It's past midnight when you are returning from the club, you changed already but the body glitter still clings to your skin, you let out a breath, thinking about how you'll have to scrub it all off.

Spotting the convenience store on the way, you decide to get something to eat. It's cold when you enter, the drop in temperature biting at your skin, you grab a premade bento, something with curry and rice, before grabbing a bottle of beer.

Walking up to the register, you watch as the racks advertised Pro-Heroes on snacks, a hot sauce bottle with Bakugou's face caught your eye, without thinking much you grabbed it too.

He seemed to be everywhere these days, even when he wasn't really around.

----

Grand used to be a local here, before he got big. before his little fanclub turned into a cult, you wish that didn't happen, wished that he would remain a friend so you could joke about it when you meet him, an inside joke that only you and him understood.

"Thought you took a more..." He pursed his lips, forehead wrinkling as he pretended to think hard, "...decent job." He drags his words, hoping to entice any emotion from you.

You snort, hands coming to grab his empty glass, filling it up with a concoction of cheap liquor and fruit syrup, "You haven't really changed," there is a spite in your tone, that had replaced the usual disdain you showed.

His brows knitted, eyes darting across your face, as he tried to decipher your emotions.

You made it easier for him, "I did, Dynamight has been treating me good." There is half truth in your words, he does treat you alright, but what matters more is that he doesn't treat you like shit, you don't phrase it like that though.

"Not good enough, if you still have to be pawed at here." His expression hardened, fingers gripping his glass tighter, he leans forward, waiting for your response.

You look at him, like he is an inconvenience, like he is another customer demanding more than what he can afford, "This is retirement plan, and we both no there is no 'pawing' happening here." You tutted, eyes scanning the crowd as you looked for other customers wanting to order, "If you are done here, I have work, see ya 'round, Grand."

You turned to leave, shoulders feeling lighter as his presence no longer suffocated you, you assume he doesn't owe you anything, not explanation, not time, you have made peace with how thinks ended.

Similarly, you suppose, you don't owe him anything either, that friendship was done and dusted, it doesn't matter how shitty the situation was or how poor it ended, you are glad that you moved on from it, from him.

He is still stunned, wondering what exactly did Bakugou do to make your life better despite this hellhole. Well there was only one way to find out.

----

Bakugou had a certain dislike towards Shindo, hero work aside, he just didn't like Shindo's personality, maybe it was the interaction during the licensing exarn but his mention always lett a bitter taste in Bakugou's mouth.

They didn't interact much, both heroes working in separate locations, the patrols never overlapped, the only time Bakugou sa him was during events and that wasn't enough to justify Shindo lounging in his office today.

So far, Shindo had figured out that Bakugou did infact have a soft spot and a nickname for you, talking with the employees, working his charm, he got his answers. Though you'd argue they answered because they wanted to get rid of him as soon as possible.

"What are ye doin' here?" Bakugou queried, suspiciously eyeing him before rounding about the desk to sit on his chair.

"Nothing can't I just come over to see my friend?" Shindo chimed, head coming to rest on his palms.

"You and I aren't close enough for hangouts, what Is it, Grand?"

Shindo raised his eyebrow, disgruntled by the lack of interest in the conversation Bakugou showed. "You've been enjoying company of an ex-friend of mine," He leans back, eyes scanning through the one-way window, trying to get a look at the staff. "I just thought to come over and warn you, I suppose."

"The fuck are you yapping about, Grand? Is this your new found way to bother others?"

"Bother you? Huh... You are the one bothering me." Shindo's tone was no longer calm, instead venom dripped from his words, Bakugou realised this wasn't really a casual conversation after all.

"Just wanted to tell ya, the bitch catches a bone for any man." Shindo hissed, his patience thinning each second he sat infront of Bakugou.

Bakugou's brows knitted, confusion painted clearly on his face, he didn't really understand what Shindo was blabbering about. For a moment he wondered if Shindo had hit himself in the head and was actively hallucinating in his office.

"Your precious little typewriter isn't all that good-" Shindo barely even finished his sentence, when Bakugou's fist connected with his jaw, he laid there, on the tiled floor, as he stared at Bakugou walking towards him, he sure did connect dots fast, damn.

"You don't walk into my office and talk shit about my fucking employees, especially her," Bakugou rasps, barely even touching Shindo, his stance and his tone enough to the message into his skull. "Clean up yourself 'fore you crawl out of here."

Shindo gets up, letting out a bittersweet laugh, you really did find someone worthy of you.

He doesn't bother fixing his clothes, aware that wouldn't bring him his dignity or you back. Just as he leaves the elevator, his eyes catch yours, a large pile of paper in your hands.

Your eyes widened, eyebrows raising, realising who was in the building, before the scrunched together, in confusion, when you noticed his bruising face. Shindo didn't bother stopping when you called after him, your lover would eventually tell you what happened.

You hadn't expected to run into Shindo during your shift, the initial dread of seeing him here quickly changed into concern when you spotted his bleeding nose. You call out for him, but he doesn't bother stopping, continues to walk out, your calls falling on deaf ears.

You almost chase after him, but a hand wraps around your wrist, you look back to see Bakugou, his expression somber, as he pulled you towards the elevator.

"Is he okay?" You still tried to look through the clear glass of the lobby, "He was bleedi-"

"I hit him."

You turn to look at him, brows furrowing in confusion, mind racing as you tried to decipher what could have went down between them, whilst subtly looking for any sign of injuries on him.

"He couldn't land a hit on me if he wanted." Bakugou sounds smug, slight smirk graces his lips as he catches your eyes scanning him for injuries.

"That still doesn't explain why he was hurt.'

"Spewed bullshit in my office, knocked some sense into him."

You scrunch your brows, confused as to why Shindo would come to Bakugou's office, as far as you know, neither are they friends nor do they work on missions together. "What was he here for anyways?"

"Aren't ya' curious, typewriter?" Although a teasing smirk painted his lips, his tone was far from playful, you could hear the anger laced in it. "What exactly is he to you?"

You don't answer him, not really sure what happened to bring up that question, although you have a fleeting idea. The elevator dings upon it's arrival, letting you escape briefly.

You get into the enclosed space, suddenly aware of his looming presence, he hand reaches out suddenly, pressing the stop button. "We aren't leaving, till you answer my question?"

You feel nauseous, sickening feeling in your stomach, as your brain conjured all the things Shindo may have possibly mentioned, "He used to be a friend."

"A friend?" He huffed in disbelief, "You sure did attract pathetic company." He presses against another button, the elevator comes back to life with a loud creak.

Silence fills the space between you both, lots of questions unanswered, "What did he say to you?" Your curiosity wouldn't let you sleep till you find out what happened.

"He strutted into my office called you a bitch and indirectly a whore." He was cold, icy even, when he repeated Shindo's words.

You felt ill, you didn't know if it was due to Shindo's words or Bakugou's reaction. Before you could shuffle out of the elevator he spoke again. "I don't know whatever is going on between you both," He spoke, following your steps out, "but if I hear shit about you, from him or anyone else, I am going to knock their teeths out"

He brisks past you, wide steps carrying him to his office, you continue to stare in his direction, face heating up at his words.

----

Bakugou knew something was wrong, when you didn't show up to work the next day, rationally he knew that you could very well be taking a break but his brain was in overdrive, coming up with crused scenarios, maybe Shindo had found you again, just to get back at him?

Nevertheless, it didn't matter, especially when Bakugou got his car out and sped to your house, running through empty red lights, traffic rules be damned.

He is outside your door, haphazardly knocking, hoping everything is alright. You open the gate, after few minutes, looking slightly disheveled as if you had just rolled out of bed.

"Everything okay? What are you doing here?" You mumbled, slightly concerned at why your boss is outside your front door, 9 in the morning, on your day off.

"Ye' didn't come to work today, thought I'd make sure everything is alright."

You blinked at him slowly, trying to recollect if you had slept through workday or it was actually your day off, "It's Saturday, right?" You asked, he nods in return, "I thought I had today off."

Gear turned in Bakugou's head, as he remembered your schedule, before face palming himself, he cursed under his breath, "I forgot, that's on me, sorry for distributing yer sleep." He walked backwards almost down the hallway way, before stopping when you called for him.

"Wait! Bakugou."

He turned his head around, face warming in embarrassment, as he stopped abruptly, eyes meeting yours.

"Why don't you come inside?" You step out the threshold of your apartment, clad in loose t-shirt and a pair of shorts, stance a little uncomfortable but inviting nonetheless.

He turned to face you fully, walking closer till he was right in front of you, moving slightly you have him passage to walk inside.

Your apartment is cozy, small couch in the middle of your living room, with few pillows, he looks slightly comical, his large frame next your smaller furniture.

"Would you like something to drink?" You are already moving towards the kitchen, pulling out a fancy tray from the cabinets, opening a packet of snacks and settling them into smaller plates, "I have water, coffee and...," You squint your eyes slightly, trying to read label of the bottle in the conner of the counter, "...wine which you don't drink so water and coffee and snacks."

You try hard not to think about your rather informal attire, you turn back around, choosing to focus on the coffee, right now you need a cup as well, hands grab the kettle preparing hot water for it. "Why did you come looking for me though?" You ask over your shoulder, still curious as to why he was so worked up.

"Thought Shindo killed ya or something, had to make sure you were alright."

You let out a snort, he finds amusement in the situation too, a shy grin stretching on his lips as he studied you in the comfort of your home. "He wouldn't have killed me," You defended, before pausing and looking over your shoulder at him, "hopefully."

This time he let out a snort, strutting over to stand beside you, he didn't say anything, only observing your mismatched flower patterned cups, variety of small plates, with snacks arranged on them.

"Would you tell me, what really happened for him to act like that?" He questioned, voice soft as he waited for you to speak. He watches you contemplate, fingers fidgeting with the handles of the tray, "You don't have to answer me, if you don't want."

You took a deep breath, before you started to speak, "We were friends, since kindergarten, he always looked after me," You turn towards the kettle, partly to avoid how eyes, partly to pour coffe out in the cups.

"It was all good, uptill few years ago, we shared an apartment, I moved in with him immediately after high school, it was easy on my wallet to split the rent," you speak while pouring the hot drink into cups, mentally chastising yourself, when you accidentally spill on the counter, he stays silent, waiting for you to continue.

"It was fine for a while, then he got in top 20, I prepared whole dinner that day but he didn't show up, infact he didn't come home at that, the rent was paid almost a year in advance and his name was off the lease,"

"I moved out few months later, ever since we run into each other, occasionally, that's all I guess." You conclude, hoping you didn't come across as too pathetic. You turn to look at him, only to end up meeting his eyes, as much as you wanted to shy away, you held the eye contact.

"So, now he goes running around being a little shit." He rasped, hands looking comically large holding onto your tiny cup.

"I texted him, yesterday, to not involve other people into this, hopefully this wouldn't be repeated." You stated, as professionally as you could, but from Bakugou's perspective it wasn't really that, your hairs tousled, miss matched pajamas that you adorned, standing awkwardly in your own kitchen.

"I don't think, he would have pulled any stunt after getting his senses knocked him." You watch as he flexes subtly, toned muscles visible through the thick jacket. "Yet you thought he would have come after me." You teased.

"Oi! I had to make sure." He grunts, voice holding no anger, "I'll get going now, you can go back to bed." He moves out of your kitchen, long steps quickly taking him to the door. "I'll see you on Monday, 'kay." He spoke, turning around, he watches you nod your head, "Words, typewriter."

"See you on Monday, Bakugou."

"Good."

----

You slip out of your work attire, before donning yourself in a red and black lingerie set, something that only looked pretty otherwise it digged into your skin at odd places, overall uncomfortable. Tonight was going to be a long one.

The club was slower than usual, older customers lounging by the counter, chatting up with the bartenders and dancers, as old friends or as something more, you didn't mind this kind of vibe.

You were leaning against the counter, eyeing fellow customer, waiting for them to signal you for drinks, out of the corner of your eye, you catch a large figure hunched over the counter on the other side, you could recognise those blonde spikes anywhere, you wonder what brought him here.

Mari shimmies beside him slightly, the fringes of her cover up getting stuck in his wrist watch as she dances over him, you watch as she tries her luck, leaning over to him, only to be rejected, Mr. Bakugou wasn't here for that it seems.

Bakugou doesn't usually come to places like this, he isn't image conscious, that much is obvious considering the tabloids, it's just lack of time and to be honest, lack of interest.

He doesn't care enough about clubs, strippers and parties and the jazz, he attended his fair share of these when he was younger, fresh-faced rookie hero, now though he isn't into this.

What or rather who he is into is here though, something he recently found out, he doesn't hate you for working here, the idea is only bothersome he knows you don't really like working here, maybe he'll change that tonight.

He looks around carefully, eyes scanning the crowd, when suddenly he feels someone slide onto the seat beside him, he half expects it to be another dancer only to be surprised by your voice instead.

"What are you doing in a place like this?" There is certain charm in the way you handle yourself, because for the first time he sees a different sight of you, sheer cover up barely concealing your lingerie, he watches mesmerized as you pour in drinks, with slight show of skill of course.

"The fuck are you doing here?" He makes a show of it, doesn't let you figure out he was here to see you, that he knew you worked here.

"Working."

He almost gives himself away, snort bubbling in his throat as he wondered if that's your default answer, but nonetheless he has a facade to maintain, little white lies seldom hurt anyone. "Why are ya' working in this sketchy strip club?"

"Pays well." He watch you cringe inwardly, valid reason he concludes.

"What do ya' mean? Don't we pay you enough?" He query is genuine, he does feel a little shitty because he doesn't know what the department does pay you. "Enough to live by Bakugou, not enough to afford me early retirement."

Bakugou can tell that isn't the complete truth, maybe somethings are still kept from him, but he'll figure those out in due time, he suppose. He doesn't get to respond, before you speak again.

"Where you planning on getting lucky tonight?" You snort lightly, eyeing him teasingly.

His face heats up, he was is planning on taking someone home tonight, not for the reason you are assuming though, "None of ya' business, typewriter."

He watches you let out a fit of giggles, before straightening up, reminiscent smile lingering on your face, "Well, I have get back to work now." You stand up, pushing the stool slightly, you don't get a chance to move away though, Bakugou reaches out for you, his hand clasped around your wrist.

"Wait! When do you get off?" He asked, a little breathless, a little desperate, he watches you look around, eyes landing on a wall clock nearby.

"Few hours." You replied, moving slightly as Bakugou shifts to stand in front of you, his frame towering over yours.

"Can ya' not leave early?"

"Where are you gonna take me?"

"There is a hole-in-the-wall diner a block away." You know exactly where he is referring to, it's the same diner he took you to, for your birthday.

"Let me grab my stuff." He watches you strut away, before deciding he'll just follow you. As decent as he is, he still couldn't keep his eyes off you, the black and red lingerie was something he just got to admire, maybe down the lane he'll ask you to wear it again, for now he'll focus on taking you out.

He follows you into the dressing rooms, averting his eyes when you slip out of your cover up. He watches a figure approaching the room through the clear door, stepping out, he prevents him from going in.

"Need help?" His voice is sharp, territorial even, eyes squinted as he glares at the intruder.

"Woah! Calm down man," The guy lifts his hands up in defence, "Was just making sure she was alright, she doesn't go home with customers." Martin, your boss stated, tone even as he challenged Bakugou slightly, he already recognised Bakugou, the blonde hottie of your dreams, still he had to check up on you.

For once, Bakugou approves your choice of friends, he is glad someone, even if this guy, looked after you while you worked in here.

"Good for ya', I am taking her out for dinner," He glances back into the room, watching you pack up, "if she decides to go home with me afterwards, I'll let ya' know."

Martin grins at him, nodding his head before walking back out. You'll be fine. Bakugou watches as you walk towards the door, before he opens it for your.

"You could have waited outside ya' know." You chimed, smile plastered on your cheeks, as you almost skipped towards him. Bakugou reaches over, grabbing the strap of your glittery bag, tugging it over his shoulder.

"Had a word or two with your boss." He looks over your shoulder for a bit before clasping a hand around yours, fingers crossing with yours as you both walked out.

"Hopefully you won't get me fired."

----

"Wait!" You pat his shoulder gently, putting your drink down, "What exactly were you doing in the club." You reach for a fry, eyeing him curiously, both of you perched on the hood of his car, eating burgers and fries.

"Do I have to answer it?" He picks up your drink, lips wrapping around the straw, stained with your lipgloss, "Why do you even get this sugar water?"

"I just wanted to know, I guess." You mumbled, fiddling with the wrapped of your burger, "Heroes have better...establishments in the name of clubs."

"I came looking for you." He looks at you, hand moving closer to your face, as he wipes away the sauce from your lips.

Your eyes widen, "You knew?" Hands falling in your lap, as you tried to think if you ever mentioned it.

"Someone told me about it, someone completely irrelevant by the way," He watches as you connect the dots in your head, lips quirking up in a smile, as you get back to your food.

He could definitely get used to this.

This fic took so long to be done, I ended up adding Shindo at some point, random plot deviation happened, at one point I accidentally deleted the first draft of this, almost set my phone on fire when that happened.

Just realised I didn't even make them kiss, I'll probably continue this later on tbh, apart from that HAPPY BELATED BIRTHDAY BAKUGOU KATSUKI 🎂🎂🎈🎁🎉🎊.

I have few more fics and ideas drafted poorly I'll get to them in mid May mostly, cause I have exams, that I have not prepared for at all, apart from that hope you all enjoy the fic. I'll also continue this fic in small drabbles, there are still bits and pieces that are missing. Gonna make them kiss in future.

Divider by: @/diviniyae

Tags: @odessa-is-my-queen @2elusional @shotos-angelic-whore @katthekat1234 @runrabbitrun3 @hellokittymochi @gold24fish @emmaafinchh

[your-nanas-house]

yes, please Joe Goldberg fanfics??? walking in on Joe disposing of a body and he's gotta convince you not to go to the police (maybe with a lil sexy time) but then he black mails you into helping him hide it

Yess! Thanks for requesting 🙏

Dead silent

◇ Pairing: Joe Goldberg X fem!Reader

◇ Warnings: smut, Joe's POV, dead body, he fucks her against a tree, just JOE.... bit dark?, mention of alchol, age gap (both off age)

◇ Summary: Joe is trying to hide a body when Y/n sees him.

◇ Note: Sorry for the mistakes and the English. This is my first Joe fic using his POV. Still experimenting... so I hope it's not so shitty. Let me know if it's better in third person.

There is something extraordinarily peaceful about an evening outside the city, clear skies and stars that shine away from the smog.

If it wasn't for the dead body lying in front of me, I could call it almost romantic.

The feeling of the shovel penetrate the dirt and the warmth of the summer breeze makes it seem intimate in some way. And then... there's you.

I heard your footsteps, you had me fooled for a moment, making me believe it was just an animal but no. I can feel your eyes on me and I know our eyes would meet as soon as I will turn around.

There you are, as silent as a mouse, shaking like a leaf. You're holding your breath but I noticed you. I honestly feel sorry about it, you shouldn't have seen any of this.

I raise my eyes and finally meet yours. Are you scared or just tipsy?

I smile.

"It's not what it looks like"

Seriously Joe? It's not what it looks like.. that's the first thing that comes to your mind while a fucking dead body is at your own feet? Pathetic. Now you scared her even more. Great job, Joe!

You're quiet so I talk again. A poor attempt to not make you freak out even more.

"You really shouldn't have see it... don't try to run, please. Don't make things harder than they already are— Let me explain"

I raise my hands, holding them in view as I carefully approach you. What are you doing here all alone? Short black skirt, a blouse, stockings and high heels... who in their right mind would wear heels here?

"I know this all looks bad and I understand that you're scared. It will sounds mad but please, listen to me... Have you ever been in a situation where you did something you never thought you'd do? Something that, if you explained it to someone, would sound wrong, so so wrong... but you knew it was right?"

You aren't running away, that's a good thing. But why? Is it because you're scared? Sick? Maybe you like it.... you have some perversion? Why would a young woman like you be in an insolated place dressed like that and not running or screaming yet? Maybe you're one of those girls that read filthy fanfictions on the internt instead of a good book... and just dream about being banged somewhere by the bad guy.

I'm not the bad guy, though. I'm the good one but I guess I can go along with your fantasy.

You don't move so I take it as a consent to step closer.

With a quick motion I have you pinned against a tree, your breath is shallow but you don't move. You let me continue without arguments. You like it.... you long for it and I'm gonna give him.

The wetness against my fingertips speaks more than a thousands of words, your soft whimpers just add to the whole perverted scenario you made me start.

Fuck... I don't even know your name but I wanna make sure you moan mine.

Say Joe, just moan my fucking name, please. I can feel my release approach, your warm cunt squeezing me nearly to death. Damn, I love pussy....

"Ah— fuck, I'm Joe"

I would have mentally slapped myself for the way I just introduced myself... if I wasn't balls deep inside a cunt. But I don't care, the warmth, the wetness, your noises and fuck... I pull quickly out to shoot my release on your bare ass and you moan my name. Poetry.

I feel the urge to kiss you, scream out loud the euphoria I feel but I won't. You would get scared and look at me as a sicko. But I'm not... it has been just too long since I last fucked.

Sadly the buzzing feeling of my orgasm didn't last much and as I put my softened cock back in my pants I finally realize where I am and why I fucked you in the first place.

I need to get ride of the body and.... I think you're going to help me.

"We need to bury it. I nearly finished to dig so we just need to pick it up and hide it"

I inform you, my eyes watching your face for any reaction. You look pretty all flushed and breathless; I can still smell our juices from here but it won't distract me. No.

Luckily you're a smart girl, I didn't even need to threat you or force you. You are intelligent enough to understand that you don't have much choice. So you help me.

And I can assure you that this kind of things are faster done in two than on your own. Thank you for your help...

"What's your name?"

You answer, saying just your first name and.... Oh— I like your shaky voice, your name, you. Thank you for your help, Y/n. I'm pretty sure we will see each other again sooner or later.

I know you won't go to the police, you're in it too now.

[ckret2]

Chapter 81 of human Bill Cipher not enjoying being the Mystery Shack's prisoner but being even less keen on being the government's prisoner: the feds are snooping around the shack, nobody likes this, and so a family meeting is called to discuss how to send them packing.

####

"I just kept telling him I didn't know anything," said Soos. He was slumped bonelessly on the couch, wiping his sweaty forehead with his sleeve and holding a soda in one shaky hand. "I accidentally said I don't know anything when he asked where he could get lunch in town!"

"You did good, Soos," Stan said. "That's how you handle feds—don't tell 'em anything."

Stan and Ford had called a household meeting, and now everyone was packed into the living room: Soos and the kids on the couch, Stan and Abuelita in the armchairs, Bill and Wendy at the living room table, and Ford out in the entryway so he could pace.

(Everyone was wearing deely boppers. Mabel had had a very productive day.)

Even Waddles and Gompers had been dragged to the mandatory meeting. Gompers had already eaten the pink pompoms off Waddle's deely boppers and was now trying to eat the hem of Dipper's shorts while Dipper tried to push him back from touching the sunburns on his legs.

"What are we gonna do?" Dipper asked. "Last year these guys tried to arrest Stan, and he was still using a fake name back then—so now, the agents could be after Stan or Ford."

"Dial back the pessimism. Right now, they're not after anybody," Bill said. "They're just following up on the eclipse from last week." And a tip about somebody dangerous in the shack. Bill pushed those worries aside. "They don't have any reason to come back!"

"Except the flash drive," Soos said. "Which they know is here. Inside the shack. Cuz they sensed it."

"Right. Yep. Except that," Bill said. "Hey, Dolores—howsabout you whip up one of your special 'welcome to the shack' dinners for them? I'm sure they'd enjoy it just as much as I did."

Dolores nodded thoughtfully. (The tiny sleigh bells on her deely boppers jingles.) "I could," she said. "But what would we do with the bodies?"

"We've got the perfect in-house body disposal! Chop 'em up and feed 'em to the pig."

"Nooo!" Mabel flung her arms protectively over Waddles. He oinked neutrally. "We're not feeding people to Waddles!"

"He'd probably love it!"

"Uh-uh."

"Fine, then the gnomes," Bill said.

Ford said, "Let's call murder 'Plan B.'"

Bill rolled his eye. "All right, smart guy, what's Plan A?"

Ford didn't immediately reply. He paced for another few seconds in the entryway, gathering his thoughts. "There are three ways this could end badly. We have to find a way to prevent all of them," he finally said. "One: the agents discover that there's something under the house and find the portal. Two: the agents remember there's something under the house, and realize they've been brainwashed. Three: the agents retrieve their flash drive, and that reminds them something's under the house."

Stan added, "And if any of those happens, we're both going to jail. Probably Soos too, as an accomplice. Kids might even be in trouble for escaping custody last year." Dipper and Mabel exchanged an alarmed look.

Bill looked at Wendy. "Hey, look who's off the hook." He held up a hand.

"Woo-hoo!" She high-fived him. "We'll visit the rest of you guys in jail."

Mournfully, Mabel asked, "If we get arrested, can you send me crayons?"

"I'll get you one of those boxes with a hundred crayons," Bill said. "And hide a shank in that yellowy green one you never use."

"Thanks."

But if any of those three scenarios came true, that meant government agents crawling all over Bill's portal. Best case scenario, it'd end up halfway across the country in a secret military base. There was tech left in the wreck in the basement that couldn't possibly be synthesized using Earth's current technology, and the Trilazzx Betian ship didn't have backup parts for all of them.

And that wasn't even taking that anonymous tip into account...

"I shouldn't have to go to jail," Ford grumbled. "I wasn't behind the crimes committed in my name, Stanley was."

"Hey," Stan said, "you're the one who impersonated a government agent! Besides, did you really not commit any crimes while building your dumb portal?"

Ford winced. "What's the statute of limitations on burgling radioactive waste?"

"Don't worry, Mothman," Bill called. (Ford self-consciously adjusted his deely boppers, which had paper moths taped to the ends.) "I tossed most of the incriminating evidence in the bottomless pit while you were asleep!"

"Wh— Is that where my lockpicking kit went?!"

"Haha, yeah!" Bill had bought Keyhole's loyalty for the next three hundred years with that.

Wendy waved a hand between Bill and Ford to interrupt their banter. "We can probably keep them from discovering the portal by just not giving them a reason to look behind the vending machine, right?"

"And if we keep them from getting Gompers, they won't get the flash drive," Dipper said.

Mabel said, "What if we put him on a plane to Japan! Do you wanna go to Japan, Gompers?"

Gompers looked at Mabel impassively.

"It's no good," Abuelita said. "It will take weeks to get a passport for the goat."

"Aww."

"There are plenty of ways we can keep their hands off the drive," Ford said. "We could just hide Gompers underground, for instance—there's no way their sensors can reach that far.

Oh no, not when it was clear someone had been down there tinkering with the portal. "Do that and they'll know we did something to hide it! We'll never get rid of them then."

"True," Ford sighed.

Bill said. "I'm most worried about them remembering something on their own. The agents mentioned the portal's gravitational anomalies from last summer—are they remembering something they shouldn't, or did you leave them with those memories?"

Ford hesitated, glancing uncertainly at Stan. Stan shrugged.

"Oh, right. You aren't the expert on how the memory gun operates." Bill rolled his eye toward Wendy. "You see how helpless he is without me around to feed him information?"

"Pshh, shut up. Keep me out of your weird old people academic grudge."

Dryly, Ford said, "Care to enlighten us with your superior knowledge, o god of wisdom?"

No, he really didn't. Not for Ford, anyway. He wouldn't even be grateful for it.

But, under the circumstances—knowing that the agents were after him, too... "Oh, why not," Bill said. "What did you enter in the gun? The exact wording."

Ford frowned, glancing toward the ceiling as he concentrated. "It was... I didn't know exactly how much they knew—I didn't even know which names they knew Stan under—so I tried to make it as broad as possible. I think it said something like 'Pines Household's Secrets'?"

Bill thought that over. "Okay. Okay, yeah, that works. That's perfect, actually—best answer you could have given. You never disappoint, IQ."

Ford was visibly unmoved by the flattery (which was just as well, because Bill had given it out of habit as he slid back into the role of teacher, and had immediately regretted it). "And I suppose you're going to explain why that wording is so important."

"I could," Bill said. "Do you want to know?"

Ford glowered at Bill, lips pressed together in a thin line. Bill stared back, brows arched expectantly. (Wendy looked between the two of them and snorted. Bill pushed her without breaking eye contact with Ford.)

Mabel said, "I wanna know."

"Good enough for me!" Bill hopped from his seat and crossed the living room to a spot where he could address the group more easily. "The memory gun doesn't actually destroy memories, it just severs the connections between those memories and the rest of the brain. Like snipping a squid's tentacles to free it from a squid king."

"What's a squid king?" Soos asked.

"It's like a rat king made of giant squid. It takes at least four to qualify because if their tentacles are knotted in a circle that's just a squid ring," Bill said. "So! Usually you find your own memories by their relationship to other memories. Driving by the grocery store reminds you that you need to go shopping, which reminds you that you're out of straws, which reminds you of when your doctor's eye got gouged out, which reminds you of those vampires in the library, which reminds you of that book you need to return, yadda yadda."

Stan said, "Wait, your doctor got what—?"

"He was fine, he had it coming, and I was nowhere nearby."

"And how's that get you to vampires?!"

"The tangy taste of blood left in your straw. Please hold any other questions to the end!" Bill said. "But, since the memory gun severs a memory from the ones connected to it, you can't be indirectly reminded of it—the chain's been broken. But the memory'sstill there. All it takes is a direct reminder to recall it, and then it starts reattaching to your other memories. Everyone with me so far?" He directed the question in Mabel's direction.

Mabel nodded. Ford opened his mouth to ask a question.

"Great," Bill said. "But! What gets severed is determined by whatever you programmed into the gun. So, for example, if you run into a vampire in the library, then get shot with a memory gun programmed with the word 'Vampires,' there's no more jumping from your doctor to that late book! And you won't remember your vampire encounter if you wander around the library—at most, you might get a sense of deja vu—but you will get back your memory of the whole thing if you run into another vampire!"

He nodded toward Ford. "So 'Pines household's secrets is the best phrase you could've picked. It means they forgot any Pines secrets—including Stanley's criminal record—any household secrets—including the machine in the basement—and since they only forgot the 'secrets,' they can run into anything that isn't secret without recovering their severed memories—like, say, the entire upstairs of the shack."

Slowly, Ford said, "Then that's why they remember last year's gravitational anomalies. The cause is one of our secrets, but the anomalies themselves aren't a secret—they're a matter of public record."

"Bingo," Bill said. "Well! That should be simple enough. Any questions?"

Mabel raised a hand.

Bill pointed at her. "Yes!"

"Are there vampires at the library?"

"Not anymore!"

"Aw."

Dipper asked, "Did you murder your doctor with a straw?"

"I did not and I won't be taking any more questions on the topic, it was a very traumatic experience" for the patient who went in after Bill.

Stan asked, "Why are you wearing a bedsheet for a skirt."

"Because somebody—" Bill shot Soos a dark look, "grabbed all my perfectly clean clothes for laundry day, and left me with a bedsheet and one dirty t-shirt."

Soos chuckled sheepishly. "Whoops. Sorry, dude."

Ford grudgingly raised a hand.

Bill grudgingly said, "What."

"Are squid kings real."

"Yes. As of last summer there were seven with at least fifty giant squid, but two were negotiating a merger so it might be six by now. I haven't had a chance to check!"

"Negotiating a merger? Do—do they combine voluntarily?"

"Oh, sure. In droves. It's a huge honor! The one I'm friends with says the psychic powers are totally worth the eventual zombification—they're ninety percent undead now and haven't regretted it once in five hundred years."

Ford opened his mouth, got stuck between three questions, and didn't manage to settle on one before Abuelita raised a hand.

Bill's attention switched to her. "Yes!"

With an air of patience unwarranted by Bill's actions, Abuelita asked, "Why are you standing on my TV."

Bill looked down. So he was. "This is my lecture podium."

Abuelita's eyes narrowed. Bill cheerfully ignored her. "Any questions about the memory gun?"

There was a general murmured agreement that, no, that part had been pretty clear. Stan snapped, "Now get off the TV."

As Bill hopped down and caught his balance, Wendy said, "So... as long as they don't know any of the shack's secrets and we get the flash drive out of Gompers before they're back, we're cool, right? We can just erase their files and say 'hey, sorry, the goat pooped this out, totally not our fault.' If they don't remember anything, it's not like they've got a reason to keep investigating the shack."

Bill tried to imagine how they'd react if he told them someone had anonymously reported him to the agents. What if they decided scapegoating him could protect the rest of them from the investigation? (And was he sure it wasn't someone in the room who'd reported him?) "Yep! Pretty much! That'd solve our problems!"

"Okay," Wendy said. "Great. So... we're good, right?"

The room studied each other uneasily, everyone waiting for someone else to answer. "Yes," Ford said unconvincingly. "We're good. Er—kids, we need to... discuss the details of... how to handle this. You don't need to stick around." He looked at Stan. Stan gave him a slight nod. (It made the googly eyes on his deely boppers wiggle.)

Dipper and Mabel exchanged a glance. Dipper said, "Are you sure? We could..."

"I'm sure. Maybe you should go upstairs," Ford said. "Leave Gompers here."

Mabel sat up straighter, preparing to argue, and glanced toward Bill; but when Bill shrugged rather than ready to defend her, she sighed and poked Dipper. "C'mon." ("Ow." He pushed her finger away from his sunburned arm.) They left reluctantly, Mabel escorting Waddles along with her.

Ford tilted his head toward the door. "That means you too, Miss Corduroy. Hup hup."

Wendy groaned. "Fine." She slid out of her seat and headed for the door. "Hey Goldie, let me know if anything interesting happens."

"You got it, cool girl."

Soos raised a hand. "Am I one of the kids?"

"Not today," Ford said.

"Aw."

Sensing a change in the atmosphere, Abuelita got to her feet. "I will get dinner started." She shuffled out of the room.

Bill waited until the door shut behind Wendy and he was sure the kids were upstairs; and then asked, "So are we kicking the kids out for the reason I think?"

"Afraid so. Now that the government knows the flash drive is here, they'll be back with a warrant as soon as possible. We can't waste any time." Ford knelt next to Gompers and pulled out a scalpel. "Somebody hold the goat down."

"Whoa!" Stan jumped to his feet. His deely bopper googly eyes rattled in alarm. "Were you just carrying that around?!"

Bill was abruptly reminded of one of the reasons he'd liked Ford. He squatted next to him. "All right, I can see where the drive's lodged, I can tell you where to cut—"

"Dudes!" Soos flung himself across Gompers. 'You can't cut him open! He's like part of the family! He's been eating out of the shack's garbage for years, does that mean nothing to you?!" (Gompers attempted to eat the foam lightning bolts off Soos's deely boppers.)

Bill groaned. "Come on, who cares?! It's not like he's a person anymore!"

The room stared at Bill. Stan said, "Did you say 'anymore'?"

Bill paused. "Forget I said that."

Ford sighed. "Fine, we'll try to find a solution without surgery." (But, Bill thought, he sounded a little disappointed.) "But if we're using a slower method, the agents might be back before we can retrieve the flash drive. We need a way to stop them from finding it."

"Or from finding the door behind the vending machine," Soos said. "Now that they know the drive's been here, they're gonna keep looking until they find it! What if they think it might've fallen behind the vending machine or something?"

"What we need is a distraction," Stan said. "Something that'll keep 'em from searching the shack too thoroughly."

"And ideally, something that will keep them from coming back," Ford said. "They keep returning to Gravity Falls because of the power surges and related gravity anomalies in town, correct? Obviously, the meteor shower story wasn't convincing enough. If we give them an explanation that lets them close the case completely..."

Which was all well and good, except they weren't just looking for power surges and gravity hiccups anymore. They thought somebody in the shack was a threat to national security. Bill had kept suspicion away from himself for the day by pretending to be a tourist, but if the eagles got serious, that wouldn't last long. If they were watching the shack, they'd realize Bill was a resident; and if they tried to investigate him at all, they'd quickly realize they couldn't find any legal records of his existence. Not to put too fine a point on it, but the Theraprism's reincarnation machine hadn't given him the right skin color to get away with that in this country, especially during a witch hunt for a suspected terrorist.

And, worse—what if they did identify him?

He'd heard Agent Trigger say Soos's alien keychains resembled the "real thing." The Bureau of Covert Investigations didn't tell all its agents about all its cases—but it sounded like these two had been to Hangar 618 at least once.

So had Bill.

Over 60 years ago, a military experiment had accidentally ripped open a very small hole to the Nightmare Realm. Not big enough for Bill to squeeze his full self through (HA! Not even close), but big enough to project a hologram through—something solid enough for the soldiers who'd detected the temporary rift to see and touch. And, naturally, they'd hauled his hologram to Hangar 618—the five-sensed suckers thought the projection was his real body—where they hid all their unidentified fallen objects.

It had been fun! He'd gotten to use all his army name puns (Major Pain, General Disarray, Private Shame, etc.), he'd lived out a centuries-old dream of snorting a line of gunpowder, he'd gotten Commander I-Don't-Even-Know-'Er to sing "On Top of Spaghetti" in exchange for Bill agreeing to leave the artillery room, he'd learned a dirty joke from the nurse brought in to assist with his vivisection, he'd introduced himself to half the base...

He'd introduced himself.

Somewhere, probably in some redacted appendix to Project Blue Book, the US military had a file on Bill Cipher—and so did the eagles. They knew his name. Hell, they even had his thumbprints—obviously alien thumbprints, that he'd retained when he reincarnated. Every object in the shack he'd ever touched carried the proof that he was Bill Cipher.

If whoever had sent the Bureau a tip had mentioned his name... Well, there were a lot of Bills in America, but not a lot using the last name "Cipher." There were probably under fifty living humans who knew about the triangle in Hangar 618, but for those who did, hearing that name resurface in Gravity Falls would blow their gelatinous little minds. He was sure they would love to get their hands on him again. He bet they'd be fascinated to find out how a triangle had fit into a human skin.

Getting hauled into a secret government facility had only been fun when his true self was still in the Nightmare Realm and the part of him in captivity had been a projection made of light, dreams, and lethal doses of radiation. Plus, that had been before he really, truly knew what it was like to be a captive. Now, the thought of being hauled back to that interrogation room—with the cheap metal chairs and gray floor and gray walls and stark sharp light—made him nauseous. The idea of being questioned about himself by some arrogant buzzkill in a suit sounded too much like therapy for comfort.

And it would be so much easier for them to keep him from escaping when he was weighed down by flesh.

Nobody was protecting Bill. The Pines weren't above throwing him under the bus if they thought it might save their precious little family from arrest. There was nothing for it. If he wanted to save himself—he had to help.

"Listen," Bill said. "I have an idea. It's iffy, and it'll require you all to trust me a bit..." He paused to give them an opportunity to laugh.

Only Stan chuckled. Good enough for Bill. "But, it might be our best shot."

"Okay," Ford said warily. "What is it."

"Bear with me," Bill said. "I bet I could get the head agent off our case by flirting with him a little."

And that time they laughed at him.

Bill patiently waited. "Okay, okay, ha ha, but the guy's been leering at me the last two days. Ask Wendy, she's the one who noticed! And do you know what his love life looks like? Because I do. Woof. Dry as a bone. That man's married to his work! He's lonelier than Elvis is!"

"Wait," Ford said. "What does that mean? Where's Elvis?"

"Not important. The point is, he's a soft target, he's already into this—" he gestured disdainfully at his human body, "and he's got the loosest lips in the eagles. I make a little small talk, I compliment his mustache and pretend I think working for the government is attractive, I keep him too dazzled to notice what's right in front of his face..." Bill trailed off. "And... that's as far as I've gotten. We'll figure it out as we go! Maybe I just distract him too much to do his job, maybe I strangle him in the bathroom and sell his body parts to half a dozen inhuman vendors in the Crawlspace, I don't know! I'll improvise!"

"It's barely half a plan," Ford said.

"It's the biggest fraction of a plan we have. What do we have to lose?"

"I think he might be on to something," Stan said. "I mean, consider it. Bill's an objectively beautiful woman."

The room stared at him. Bill flipped up his eyepatch to double his stare.

"What! It's just a fact!"

"Aww, Stan." Bill laced his hands together coquettishly and batted his lashes.

"Save it."

"Stanley. I had no idea you felt that way about me—"

"Can it, Cipher! " Stan curled a fist threateningly. Bill winked at him. Stan shuddered. "Eugh. Physical attraction's only gonna carry you so far, demon! Can you attract a man when you're talking to him? Because personally, I find you less appealing every time you open your mouth—and you were in the negatives the first time we met."

Bill thought about that. Bill thought about all his human cultists. Bill thought about all his human cultists whom he'd caught having scandalous dreams about endless staring eyes and cool black hands that buzzed with static and being fully exposed before the golden glory of an ever-watching false sun. Bill thought about that one time he tried to ask one of his sects to at least invite him to his own wedding and wait for him to RSVP before symbolically marrying more cult novitiates to him and they sorta nodded and said "okay" and then went and wedded him to another dozen Cipherwives anyway. "Yeah! Sure! No problem! I attract humans all the time! They can't get enough of this!"

"Okay, but can you attract a human that isn't into freaky space triangle things?"

Bill tapped his index fingers together thoughtfully. "Ummm..."

####

1981

A clubber eyed the hands of the man sitting at the bar beside him.

The man noticed the look and turned toward the clubber, grinning too wide, staring at him with yellowish slitted eyes that seemed to flash in the dim light like a cat's. "Yeah, I know." He drummed his fingers on the bar top. "Six fingers."

The clubber flinched at being caught staring. "Oh—sorry."

"Don't be! It's a built-in conversation starter!" The six-fingered yellow-eyed man laughed. "Hey! Have you ever had six fingers before?"

"Uhh," the clubber said. "Nnno?"

"Would you like to?" The man winked with both eyes, one at a time.

The clubber frowned at him in confusion, and then slowly turned away without answering.

####

"Sure," Bill cheerfully lied. "No problem!"

####

There was a knock on the attic bedroom door. Mabel opened it.

Stan and Ford stood in the doorway with a sulky Bill in between them. Stan pushed Bill into the room and said, "Teach him how to flirt."

Mabel gasped in delight.

####

(Well that took way later than I wanted it to—but it's finally out.

Head's up, I've got two zine deadlines that take priority, my workload triples at the end of the year, and I'm currently preparing the house to welcome home a new baby*, so we might skip next week's chapter. Hopefully not, though; I'd hate to start the new year that way. We'll see.

*it's a snake. the new baby is a boa constrictor.

Let me know what y'all think! I'm looking forward to hearing your thoughts.)

[jweekgoji]

You can do Transformers Earthspark Megatron x Female reader where both were conjux but are divorced, the reader is only with the autobots so as not to be in the cells also that both had a sparkling but who is with the weckers, let's say that the relationship between Megatron and the reader was nice at first but everything changed in the war, Megatron treated the reader and her Sparkling badly, let's say that now the reader doesn't like to be around Megatron especially when she sees how he treats Twich like a daughter, but Megatron still wants to have something with Reader

Megatron/Femme!Reader [TFES]

tw: brief mentions of past trauma, past toxic relationships, guilt. additional tags: Cybertronian!Reader, Femme!Reader word count: ~1,9k a/n: I liked how they handled Starscream and Megatron's dialogue in s1, too bad it was wasted.

You had no right to be angry with the terrans. Born in this strange world, far from the home planet, they had no idea who they were or what their fate would be. To most humans, they were nothing but a threat. To your race, they were the only ray of hope for the future.

So why can't you still look away from them without a twinge of anger deep within your spark? Why is it that every time a small, scarlet terran tries to learn more about you, you throw that sharp, irritated look in her direction?

Another, yet another, long, languid day at the former G.H.O.S.T base, which has received a small rebranding, now completely at the disposal of the Autobots. You are completely focused on the monitor screen in front of your optics, your fingertips gently pressing each key.

You have no desire whatsoever to spend your entire attention on this useless waste of time. You would gladly leave this Primus-damned planet if you could.

And yet, you're happy to forget about everything around you for a second. That constant, loud laughter under your pedes when one of the Malto family runs past you, chasing after one of their siblings. Arcee tried to crack a joke or two whenever you two passed each other. Prime, for some reason, has decided that you need his painfully pathetic speeches about how if you need any help, you can always go to him.

It would seem that only Elita, of all the veterans, could understand you in any way.

You would gladly spend cycles alone with any of them on an island far from civilisation, only if it meant you would never have to see him again.

“Will you teach me some new moves in the air?” Twitch sits on Megatron's shoulder, looking at the older mech with her those big, yellow optics. “That moves with your arm cannon really inspired me!”

The little Terran blatantly thrusts her arm forward, automatically, activating her own weapon. A quiet scoff escaped from Megatron as he watches over the drone, noting her usual excited and very determined expression. Out of all the group, she seems to be taking the leader's role the most.

“If you promise not to shoot anyone here,” he gently reaches for Twitch, using his pointing finger to lower her arm cannon down, a soft smile plastered on his face.

The crimson terran's optics are focusing on Megatron's own, before she quickly glances towards you, the miniature pair of rotor wings bristling in admiration.

“And— we can take (...) with us too! I heard you two were an amazing pair back on Cybertron!” Twitch carefully stands up before starting to circle around in the air.

It's hard not to notice how much the young terran seeks to hold her deep respect for you, despite the clear ignorance you show her every single time she tries to speak with you. That naive childish adoration is cute, in some way, reminding you of the time when your own sparkling was once as bold and trusting as her.

You really shouldn't hold the grudge against her just because you feel that twisted sense of jealousy because of what you dreamed of so much, but never had the chance to get it.

Megatron's red optics track the terran across the room, only to lock onto your frame, once you were mentioned. He felt a pang of regret every single time he saw you. The memories of your shared past never left the impact on his mind, even though he tried so hard to get over it. For both yours and his sake too.

‘It's been countless solar cycles, Megatron. Don't make it harder for her,’ Optimus' words ringing in his mind. If only it was that easy.

He should have just focused on his own job, dealing with what is left of his past troops, the leftover of G.H.O.S.T's impact, but would it actually help him? To dig his own sick guilt and remorse somewhere deep down, in some naive hopes that everything can just magically go back to how it was? To pretend that it's fine to forget and run away from your past mistakes?

No, it wouldn't be fair to himself. Not to mention, everything he did against you was never fair to you in the first place. Shaking his helm, Megatron tries to reach for the terran, tell her that it's not the time now, and later, he will give her all his time and attention to guide the young one in her path.

That was, until Twitch wrapped her tiny servos around your own, looking up at you with those same optics she gave to Megatron, as if hoping she could somehow warm up your cold spark to her, to make you forget of whatever held you down from accepting her.

Poor thing. Thinking she is somehow the core source of your problems, even though she has no idea what exactly she has done, except for just being born in the wrong place and time.

“Please? I promise to listen, ma'am!” Twitch slightly, tightens her hold on your servo, the smile still as innocent as ever.

The tension is palpable. For just a moment, the three of you don't let out a single word. Everyone was focused on you, and only you stood in the center of their attention.

You sigh, looking towards the young terran right next to you. It will pain you to deny her, you think, but it is for the best as you try to reassure yourself once again.

“Twitch, you shouldn't—” Megatron tries to step out towards you and get the terran back away from you, only to be interrupted by your own voice.

“I'm afraid I can't help you with that for now, Twitch,” you say, using this calm, soft motherly voice of yours. “But be aware. Not everyone here deserves your trust.”

That smile slowly drops from Twitch's face as soon as she sees you pulling away from her, her little servos grasping the air, once where you were standing. That look you gave her somehow reminded her of her own mother.

Dot would come back after a long day of work, welcomed by the whole family, and despite how tired and overworked she was, she never dared to let them know about it. Muscles tense, aching and begging for rest, and constant headache from dealing with some people seem to never leave her alone. And yet, she still kept her smile. Still has the strength to use that sweet voice of hers every time she speaks to the young Maltos.

Even then...why did you look with nothing but hatred and disgust towards Megatron?

The quiet shut of the door left only Megatron and Twitch standing in the room. The little one slowly stepped down on the ground, blinking a few times in confusion. She still couldn't take her gaze away from the door, as if hoping that you might come back and join them after all.

“What...what did I do wrong?” she asks quietly, the question hanging in the air.

Megatron clenched his teeth, trying to suppress his own anger— no, he had no right to be angry. That was the truth after all, isn't it? None of the terrans knew what actually happened before, when he was the leader of the Decepticons, the infamous warlord responsible for the deaths of thousands, if not much more, innocent lives.

He deserves to feel that pain; the cold truth will always hurt, no matter how much he tries to numb the harsh, stabbing feeling inside his spark. Hearing it from you, for some reason, always felt the worst.

Slowly, he lowers himself to one knee, looking down at Twitch, as if silently trying to apologize, for what had happened. No one was supposed to be involved in this conflict.

“Don't trouble your mind with these thoughts, little bird,” Megatron gently lifts her chin with a single digit, making the young terran look up at him. “I promise to come back to you as soon as I can.”

If only he had told you the same before and reassured you with the same care he held deep for his mentee.

It was so confusing. Watching every single day, how soft and attentive the ex-warlord can be for a sparkling that were not even his, and yet, abandoning his family for his own cruel ambitions.

Standing outside the autobots' base, you at least had some bits of privacy that was left up to you. No one to judge, no one to stare with these sorry optics, with nothing but pity in them.

Primus seems to be especially disappointed with you today, taking away the only peace and quiet you had for today.

“You can hate and despise me however you want, I would never have held it against you,” the familiar, deep voice is quick to disturb your thoughts, but this time, somehow softer.

Megatron takes a few slow steps, stopping right behind you, but not daring to come any closer. He would be grateful if you even stayed to listen to him without running out the first second you spot him in your proximity.

There is a brief pause between the two of you, followed by nothing but your sinister silence. Not even a single drop of respect for him, as you didn't even look back at your ex-conjunx.

“But please,” the word sounds so foreign coming from him; for a moment, you even amuse yourself thinking he really changed. “Don't take it out on them.”

You feel your right optic twitch at that.

“Is that the only thing you wanted to talk with me about?” you finally speak, turning to face the silver mech who stood tall next to you. “And you have the audacity of asking something from me?”

Such hypocrisy. It doesn't help you feel any better at all once you notice those guilty red optics staring at you, as if reminding you of how small you will look to others, no matter how hard you try to hide behind a mask.

Like you ever needed their pity for you.

The silver mech studies your face. Tired, war-worn, so exhausted, just like his own. You're barely holding back from collapsing from all the responsibilities on your shoulders, both as the ‘autobot’ and the carrier first. He should have never left you alone, but that would be pointless to think about now.

“I won't...try to defend my past mistakes, and I know that there is nothing I can do to erase all the pain I caused to you and to our sparkling,” optics lowered to the ground, expression hardening, trying to gather his own thoughts, before meeting your gaze once again.

“All I want is to let you see how I have changed,” Megatron steps closed, hesitantly, he continues. “Would you give me a chance to make things right for you, my dear?”

A silence.

Megatron feels a flicker of hope in his spark. Lips curled into a small frown, trying to hide his own uncertainty. Cycles before, back in the past, when the war between the Autobots and the Decepticons hadn't struck the Earth, he would have snapped back. He reminded you of your own place underneath him, so you would never even have a single thought of defying him.

But he would never hurt you again, never raise his voice at you— just let him keep you safe from the remnants of the war he once caused; he promises you that. If only you let him show you that.

But then you step back.

“Starscream was right about you,” your voice now, filled with nothing but coldness. “You will always be the same tyrant who once betrayed those who trusted you with their own spark.”

[cumulo-ghoulll]

Ghoul Pack HCs

For a period of time in the late summer, all ghouls and ghoulettes are locked out of all the buildings on the grounds and are forced into the elemental habitat. This is hunting season. It affects every ghoul, making them almost feral, revert back to walking on all fours, and extremely dangerous to anyone who is not another ghoul. On one occasion, Secondo was attacked after refusing to let his ghouls out. He wasn't severely injured but he now has a large scar on his left bicep where he'd been clawed. Copia is more than happy to let them out and usually sends them out a day early after feeding them well in case they don't make any catches.

Dew is usually the first to Turn. He is extremely territorial and one of the only ghouls who do not hunt in a group. He seems to be a bit of a scavenger, getting into fights with the others if they haven't left any food for him. He's often seen circling the doors of the ministry, trying to lure someone out. Apparently, he forgets the lectures given to the siblings and Papas, reminding them not to go outside. Even though he shouldn't, Copia feels a bit bad for his futile efforts and sometimes throws a raw chicken or two out a window for Dew to take.

Rain usually takes himself off to the pond at least a week before Turning to move his koi carp to a tank inside. After Turning, he hunts both on land and in water. His serrated teeth make it extremely easy for him to catch and keep hold of any prey, especially fish. If he eats everything he can in his pond, he usually goes and hunts with Mountain or Swiss. Rain's the least aggressive of all the ghouls and ghoulettes, preferring only small or medium sized prey and avoiding any form of conflict. On one occasion, a Sibling had gone outside to send over some paperwork to a different building, Rain had gotten a bit too close for the siblings liking and was scared off by a few loud claps and shouts.

Mountain is one of the most aggressive ghouls during hunting season. He attacks almost anything that moves. Although his antlers seem to suggest he'd be a herbivore and a lot more docile, Mountain often hunts quite large prey. Elk or moose are released prior to Mountain being sent out. By the end of the season, almost all of them are eaten. He prefers to hunt with a few others, especially Rain and Swiss. Mountain is the one the clergy is told to keep an eye out for as he is extremely hard to scare off if he gets too close. He rarely comes out of the woods however, so it's very rare for him to attack anyone away from the woods' border. Mountain also requires a lot of care at the end of the season as his morals while Turned contradicts his usual morals. Any carcasses have to be disposed of, any surviving elk or moose are released into a different woodland, and Rain uses his elemental powers to naturally wash away any blood.

Swiss hunts with anyone who'll have him. Unlike the rest of the pack, Swiss is extremely good at mimicking different animal calls which makes him extremely useful in pack hunts. Roll calls are made twice daily back in the ministry as Swiss occasionally imitates human screams, hoping to lure people out. He's also an excellent climber and enjoys hunting birds in particular. He's been seen play fighting Dew when they get near each other and Copia always takes the opportunity to take pictures of them.

Aether and Phantom are some of the hardest ghouls to keep out as well as being the most dangerous. Quint ghouls hunt in the shadows so are extremely hard to spot. During hunting season, all the lights are kept on inside the buildings and candles are handed out to anyone who needs them. Quint ghouls are also the hardest to protect yourself from as they literally drain and devour the soul out of their victims. They also work very closely with the ghoulettes. The Quints feed on anything living so don't require any support like Mountain or Dew. Phantom finds it hard to kill anything and Aether has to often convince him to drain a spider. Phantom is almost always starving at the end of the season as he eats very little during it. Copia makes sure there's food waiting for him in his room when he returns.

The ghoulettes are just about as hard to protect yourself from as quints. They suffocate their prey almost immediately. However, it could be argued that they have the most humane way of killing their prey. There's never been any ghoulette attacks though so people tend not to be as cautious of them. They prefer small animals like hares and rabbits but will also help catch prey on pack hunts. The ghoulettes hunt together anyway and rarely hunt alone. They also work with quints a lot as they both hunt in similar ways.

The hunting season lasts around two weeks but the pack makes their way back inside in their own time. It takes a lot of them a little while to go back to walking upright and talking. They're also given an extra week off all work (which annoys Aether as he tries to convince everyone he's fine to go back to work the day after). The pack usually just relaxes in the den and have very long naps.

[bibibbon]

When the mission makes you human

Operation strix is by far shown to be the hardest mission that Loid has to do and is yet to accomplish, and this isn't because of the time pressure that he is being put on or even the workload but its because the mission requires for him to be human.

The mission requires Loid to break the intricate cold machine mask that he has built for himself over the years and calls for him to unearth the past he has burnt away.

Sure, Agent Twilight is good at temporary impersonations. He is good at being what people need him to be but only for a short amount of time. However, operation strix requires him to be a father and a husband almost 24/7, and with that, we get more time with the Loid Forger persona unlike any other persona of Twilight and due to that we get to see all the little cracks and imperfections in that mask. We get to see Loid make mistakes, and we get to see him try and fix them, we get to see him learn and we get to see his humanity and vulnerability that he believes he burnt away slowly coming back up filling and fixing the little cracks in the Loid Forger mask.

The Loid Forger persona surprisingly has always been deeply interconnected to Agent Twilight's roots as a character ever since chapter 1.

It is the Loid Forger persona that unearths Agent Twilight's memories as to why he became a spy in the first place. His interactions with Anya unearth his motivations as he so clearlingly sees a bit of himself in anya. His interactions with anya when he is in his loid forger persona is when we see both of these characters connect and parallel each other the most. It's their continuous parallels that we see as the readers that starts to make Loid seem human to us.

As we see, Loid slowly gains back a few memories, and Anya is usually the catalysts to this. The whole reason we got the chapter 62 flashback is because of Anya as she was a catalyst to it.

It is through the Loid Forger persona that we see most of what's left of Redacted come through, and we see how his childhood experiences impact him to adulthood. We see just how much Loid Values friendship and how haunted he really is by it. I think it's interesting that Endo has shown us the progression of Loid's memory and how he is remembering a lot more from his past than he would like to remember.

The progression of Loid's memory going from him not remebering how his friends looked like but knowing that a group of kids on a random street evoke a certain emotion in him in chapter 3 to him clearly remembering his past friends faces in chapter 108 and the uncanny resemblance that jeeves and the other caretakers have that remind him so strongly of the past, of the connections he had and the human identity that he swore he burnt away.

In a world where Agent Twilight wears masks every day and disposes of those masks every day. The mask that is Loid Forger seems to have stuck, its slowly becoming his real identity as agent Twilight the man who burnt away his previous identity and swore to never be more than just a spy, more than just an agent is slowly forging, creating a new mask. A mask that is him, a mask that is so similar to Redacted, and it scares him.

It's something that he doesn't know how or why he is doing but it's a process that is taking place and funnily enough for such an introspective and analytical mam Loid Forger doesn't realise that he is doing this. No, it's actually nightfall that realises this and quickly points it out in chapter 30. She can see it, and the fandom can see it. We have had hints towards agent twilight losing his cool and his true nature emerging. We see this when he gets angry and punches the desk during the Eden academy interview, we see this in every little small and big gesture that he does towards his family lamely justifying it to be for the mission. We see this when he quickly retorts that they shouldn't kill yuri because it would harm the mission.

We see it. We literally joke about it. Everyone is almost aware of it, but Loid isn't, well, that is until he is. The aftermath of the wheeler arc we get conformation that Loid is aware to an extent about his care and he so deeply tries to push it down but for the sake of the mission he can never really destory it. He needs to be human, but at this point, it seems a bit like torture, and we see how the guilt builds up on him whether that be through jeeves saying that he wishes for these children to stay unburdened and we see Loid looking at Anya or whether that be through Loid hesitating to actually shoot yuri because it would hurt yor and Loid himself is shown to really value Yor and Yuri's relationship even from the start.

Tragically, it seems like Loid has trapped himself in something so beautiful so human so delicate and he knows he has to pull away he knows that it's going to end he knows that it's now actively effecting him a man who is supposed to be hardened by war a man who is supposed to do the unspeakable for the greater good now hesitates at merely taking a human life.

At the end of the day, Agent Twilight must abandon what he had forged when the mission is complete he must again burn away that humanity and that identity, but this time it's going to hurt. This time, it will feel like grief, and he knows it.

However, there could be an answer, and I think it's within nightfall character. The wheeler arc seems to introduce nightfall as a direct contrast to Twilight as she is someone whose strengths are highlighted and are even stronger when she is protecting someone that she cares for. Twilight views emotions as weaknesses, but nightfall strength that saved him comes from those emotions, and it's very likely that twilight would come to that same conclusion as he is also someone who is shown and was hinted at being very emotional even when he wasn't supposed to be his conversations with franky show this best.

[krems-chair]

I wanted Solas to be able to steal your companions (or at least some of them) away from you

On my first playthrough I genuinely thought that the test of your leadership abilities was going to be if you could keep your team together despite the machinations of the Dread Wolf himself. Obviously that was not the case, but I like the idea enough still that I want to share it now!

(Idk if I should tag this as a critique or not because while it IS me saying I wish the game had done this, that sentiment is also like. The extent of the displeasure you will hear from me in this particular post. So instead, I'll just put the divider in and give everyone a heads up now that while I am about to descend into a spiral about something I think would have been cool, me describing the cool thing I would have liked is not peppered with hate and might therefore still be fun for you to read. )

My brain went off the rails the first time I heard Harding tell Rook and Neve that Solas can go into people's dreams and kill them. (Which, was this something we learned in Inquisition/Trespasser and I missed it? I totally probably did if that's the case because I did not do a replay before jumping into Veilguard, but that line freaked me out when I first heard it lol I was like "since when?!").

While Rook assures both that they're a-okay, all good, it's just a little bid of blood magic, I thought we had just been blessed with some hella foreshadowing. Based on:

-My belief that Solas was going to have followers at his disposal

-The knowledge that he likes to mirror people and give them what they're dishing out

-Him telling Rook that once he found out they were pursuing him, he did his research

-My belief that reminiscent of other games, low approval could result in companions turning on you/leaving the party/speaking against you

I thought that Rook was going to learn that at some point in the game, Solas approached the Veilguard companions in their dreams and tried to sway them either to join him or abandon their leader. And I think there was a lot of opportunity for this to work really well.

Lucanis is perhaps the easiest example to work with here, but there's potential with all the companions because all of them can relate to Solas' experiences.

Solas, through communications in the dreams of his followers or through snooping through Lucanis' himself, would have been interested in the parallel the two share of "extreme loyalty to an important woman in their life that they look up to and take orders from" when it comes to Mythal and Caterina. Solas also knows what it's like to be gone from the world as you understand it to be for a long time and struggle with the adjustment to come back. It would have been wild to find out that he inserted himself as an interested party who sympathizes with Lucanis' struggle and had slowly been showing him all the reasons he shouldn't put all his faith in Rook while playing as a supportive mentor to Rook at the exact same time.

I think depending on how Rook handled Spite, it would have been interesting at either high approval to have Lucanis be like "hey I just want you to know that Spite caught Solas snooping around in my head last night and we shut him tf out" or a low approval Lucanis being convinced that there's no place for him at the Lighthouse/he isn't understood/is too feared and that he needs to try and help through other means. That, consequently, would create some additional difficulty when it comes to trying to kill Ghilan'nain or gain loyalty with the Crows.

And obviously him going for every single companion would have been hard to do or made the game repetitive, so maybe if at a certain point in the game it just took your companions with the lowest approval and triggered Solas attempting to sway them, that would be fun and add an element of replayability. And if you manage to raise their approval enough after getting kind of a warning-sign cutscene where they're more frustrated with Rook than usual, they then tell you "hey yeah I heard from him but I shut him out."

For brevity so that this doesn't go on forever:

-He could have very easily nerded out with Emmrich and convinced him that the world he wants is what's best for the spirits (especially since he does genuinely believe this)

-He could have come to Neve and been like "you don't have to like me because I did kill Varric, but you do love your city, don't you? As I loved mine? And wouldn't you do anything for it?" (especially if Rook saves Treviso over Minrathous)

-He could have promised Taash a place amongst his followers where they don't have to hide their fire/potentially shared some compelling truth he learned in his nerd travels about fire-breathers that they, craving more about their identity, would be tempted by

-He could have tried to play on Davrin's sympathies for the griffons and shared that all he wants is to create a world in which those he harmed have a chance to be at their fullest capacity once more, especially after its revealed that the wardens abused the griffons and then hid from their history. (Now, Davrin is a king and I see him being very hard to persuade even at low approval, but I didn't want to exlude him)

-With Bellara, I mean come on. He is the least sinister of the old elves running around, and she has always craved questions. Knowledge about Arlathan is one of the strongest connections she has with Cyrian. I also think he might try and argue that Rook could have spent more time/energy towards rescuing Cyrian, OR offered her information on the Forgotten Ones that would save him in exchange for her assistance

-Finally, I think it would have been cool if Harding is the only companion Solas actually refuses to try and sway regardless of their approval with Rook. Much in the same way Varric didn't nickname her because he feared her, I'd like to think Solas would know that having fucked with the dwarves enough, she's off-limits to manipulate because he regrets his actions so much. It would have been a cool way to actually explore that part of the narrative a little more, especially because I personally think (especially if you don't have Cadash in the game or a dwarven Rook) someone deserved to have a tough discussion with him, and given Harding's quest line, it would make sense to be her. Assuming she survives past Ghilan'nain's death, I think a cutscene while Rook is in the fade of him coming to her when we know she wants to believe that he can be saved or else it's all for nothing (I can't remember the exact quote right now, so apologies if I'm way off) and them having a really meaningful conversation about the Titans and the rage she holds would have been cool, especially since they did know each other and fight for the Inquisition together.

So yeah, just some thoughts I've had brewing, that's all.

[secondarysefikura]

In the time travel au after Cloud disappeared future Sephiroth desperately looks for anything that could remotely remind him of his puppet, but all there really is are the dresses and lingerie he would make him wear. Eventually Sephiroth flies to what is left of Nibelhiem, searching for any possible photos of Cloud or maybe one of his old belongings Shinra failed to dispose of after his rampage. But unfortunately he can’t find anything of the sort, however there is still one place left he hasn’t looked, the basement of Shinra mansion that was hardly standing. Sephiroth enters the lab which was not only where he found out the truth of himself, but where Cloud would spend five years being experimented on by that man whom Sephiroth has long since forgotten the name of. It takes him hours but he eventually finds a single photo of his lost puppet, Cloud is unconscious in the picture but that doesn’t matter to Sephiroth, what matters is that he can at least still look at his puppet while their still separated. As he holds the photo close Sephiroth promises to both Cloud and himself that once he’s able follow Cloud to wherever he was taken to, they’ll never be apart ever again.

I think what really makes Sephiroth accept that Cloud is gone and that he may never see him again is when Cloud's things stop smelling like him. When Sephiroth goes to the house he kept Cloud in and notices that it smells empty and cold, the very real possibility that Cloud is gone forever hits him. And, realizing that he has so little to truly remind him of Cloud, he is rather desperate to find something--anything--that proves that Cloud once existed.

So when he finds the photo? He'd cry if he thought himself capable of such things. Finding the photo also spurs him forward in his quest to recover Cloud. He's more determined than ever now to reunite with Cloud, and when he does he's going to ensure that he carefully documents their time together.

Even if he doesn't plan to let Cloud out of his sight again, it doesn't mean he shouldn't start taking plenty of photos of his beloved little doll.

[pocheezy]

Let's go over the different races' basic information.

Zora and Rito are back to regular Hylian height. I want their heights to differ on what kind of fish or bird they are based on. Zora based on normal sized fish are an average height. If a Zora is based on an anchovy, then they should be shorter. If based on a great white, they should be taller. Here's an example. Prince Link is based on an oarfish, so he will be taller than most Zora. NOT ridiculously tall, but still taller, not enough to reach Gerudo height. This same logic applies to the Rito.

Zora no longer have a ridiculous lifespan. I understand the significance of that decision in BOTW, but this isn't BOTW. In ocarina of time, they aged the same as Hylians. It's simpler to work with. With the whole aging difference, I thought it had weird complications with romance. An example, dating a Zora that is 30 yrs old, which is an adult age in our years, but that's still a kid in Zora years. I'd rather not deal with that mess. SO back to normal lifespans for the Zora.

Rito do typical Rito things. Archery, delivering mail, etc. Hylians are the same as usual, too.

The Gorons and Gerudo should be taller than the other races. Goron heights and sizes may differ from Goron to Goron, but on average they should be taller. We can come across a tiny pebble of a Goron; shorter Gorons like in Twilight Princess. They can survive underwater for a long time, but they can't swim. They sink like a rock. There's a quest where you find one trapped underwater, and try to help him get out.

Gerudos should always be taller compared to a Hylian, Zora, or Rito. The situation can vary when a Zora is based on something like a whale shark (which would be rare, but still not ridiculously tall). Typically, Gerudos are TALL, like 8ft. Gerudos are also typically strong and muscular, but there are exceptions. I don't want the Gerudo to be so focused on men. I know they need to find Hylian men to continue their race, but that shouldn't be their whole prerogative. For most of them, it's important at some point in their life, but I want them to talk about other stuff. To not be so flustered at the thought or sight of men. A few still would, but not all of them.

There are also Gerudo pirates that pillage any coastal villages. There's a whole quest where you can stop them. This is my response to how disappointing the pirate side adventure was in TOTK. Anyway, Some Zora are fascinated by these attractive, violent, pirate women who would probably kill them for 20 rupees. The regular Gerudo don't approve of these pirates. Noura outright loathes them, and has sent soldiers to dispose of them, to no avail.

Deku scrubs are the shortest of the races. I'd say they average at 2-3ft, but can reach 4ft. They live in the jungle, some Deku scrubs attack you from their bulbs, camouflaged within the native plant life. They're the most anxious race, and I wouldn't blame them. They're small in a world full of big people and monsters. Unlike the Kokiri/Koroks, they can't maneuver throughout the world invisible, so they're easy targets. For a pint sized plant, they are exploding with fear, anger and all types of emotions. Not all of them of course, but it's enough to notice a pattern.

I don't know which version to use, Kokiri or Koroks? Maybe both? Whatever version I use, they are only seen in the Lost Woods, near the Great Deku Tree, or around the whole vicinity. Kokiri act as lost children and guide you through the Lost Woods to the Deku Tree. Koroks are tending to the Deku Tree while the Kokiri travel around the woods. There are Skull Kids too, but they lead you to traps or pranks. This puts you back at the beginning of the woods. So to recap, the Kokiri/Koroks and Skull Kids are all in the great forest and Lost Woods. As of now, you'll rarely see them outside of that. Everything is subject to change.

The next smallest race would be the Minish, but you'll never get to see them. Only children can point out that Minish are in the room or around here. Ayrll can also bring up to Link that she saw Minish taking toys from her room. You of course don't believe her, but you entertain her. Yet, the environment is still affected by them. You are in a library in Castle Town when you notice a book fall off a shelf. You can put it back, but it'll keep falling off when you turn your back. You can also find strange gatherings of pots, crates, and toadstools in different hidden locations throughout the world. These are their villages. You can't interact with them.

[kairithemang0]

Today sucked have a very random analysis of 358/2 days and Curtwen

Kingdom Hearts 358/2 Days follows Roxas, Xion, and Axel as they make their way through Roxas's 358 days in Organization 13, a cult that sees everyone there as disposable. Expect for Roxas and Xion. They both have the power to wield the Keyblade, a weapon that can release hearts and send them to Kingdom Hearts, a moon that their boss Xemnas tells them will bring the hearts they've lost back.

These characters, Nobodies, husks of full humans once with hearts now missing, are told they have no emotions. That all they're doing is remembering what it felt like to have these emotions, being lied to, believing everything they feel is fake.

Curt and Owen joined their agencies when they were young, who knows what type of future they could've had. They find themselves in a situation where they're meant to keep secrets, feelings locked away, trapped in cages. You don't get close to people as a spy, you may never see them again. They could die right before your very eyes, you just need to take it. Follow your training, don't forget about the mission.

This was the life of Curt and Owen for a long time, get in, get out, get to their hotel. Similar with Roxas and Xion, do the mission, and return to the castle (RTC). However, Roxas and Xion don't do that. Instead, they find themselves up on a clocktower eating ice cream, discussing the feelings they apparently shouldn't be able to feel.

Curt and Owen go back to their hotel room, they find comfort in each other's arms, able to let their feelings out to someone who understands. Curt and Owen understand. Roxas and Xion understand. Curt and Owen, the two gay men in their agencies who can't be out, who are keeping that locked inside with the rest of their feelings, and Roxas and Xion, young wielders of a mysterious weapon and who don't have memories of their old lives, who theoretically shouldn't be able to feel any emotions. Both pairs are outsiders in their own lives but find each other and it brings them something they didn't know they could feel. Love. Joy. Happiness. Sadness. Heartbreak. Loss.

They weren't meant to last though. Curt and Owen drift apart, Owen falls and finds new purpose, while Curt wallows in misery at his actions. Xion gets reprogrammed, remade to be a weapon for the organization, meant to fight against the one person she sees as a friend, who then forgets her because she was never meant to exist. Nobodies aren't meant to exist, not meant to feel or be loved. Neither are spies, you're meant to be quiet, keep your mouth shut and get the job done

And so, they both lose each other. Owen gets shot in the head, and while Xion and Roxas get to come back, Curt's left alone, left to remember a time where he and the one person who understood him were happy, those days where he felt some sense of normality despite his hectic life. Those nights together for them, those nights on the clocktower for Roxas and Xion. They were beautiful, and tragically temporary

[hrizantemy]

As a fellow Az hater, can we take a minute to shit on him? I've already made my own opinions clear on him, and his complacency. However, the thing that makes me absolutely livid, beyond everything else he's done, is the fact that, despite him supposedly having the best friendship dynamic with Nesta according to so many people, he is so quick to throw her to the wolves when it comes to endangering her life.

This also reflects on his weird complex as well, I guess, but it's the scene where he argues that Elain 'shouldn't be exposed' to whatever kind of 'darkness' surrounds the trove, meanwhile he's perfectly happy to suggest Nesta doing it, actively undermining the healing and autonomy of both Nesta and Elain.

One sister is mentally, physically and emotionally not fit to go on adventures and search for ancient artefacts, while the other, from what we see, is, and Az, who's living with Nesta and cassian and should be well aware of this, decides they should convince her to do it just to stop Elain from doing so.

As a fellow Azriel hater, I couldn’t agree more. People like to claim he has this great dynamic with Nesta, but really, it’s just him treating her with the bare minimum of decency—which, given how everyone else around her acts, is something Nesta sadly isn’t used to. But that’s the issue: Azriel knows how much she’s suffering, and yet he’s so complacent when it comes to her mistreatment. He never stands up for her when it matters, whether it’s against Cassian’s constant badgering or the Inner Circle’s condescending attitudes.

The fact that he didn’t even get her a gift at Solstice just shows how low on his priority list she really is, despite the supposed “friendship” people seem to think they have. And let’s not forget the moment when he thought it was funny that she got shoved down the stairs. How is that remotely acceptable? He should be aware of how much she’s struggling, but instead, he just stands by and lets it happen, never stepping in to protect her when it really counts.

And that moment with the trove is exactly what reveals Azriel’s hypocrisy. He’s all about protecting Elain from the “darkness” of the trove but has no problem throwing Nesta into danger when she’s clearly not in the right place mentally or emotionally. It’s so infuriating—he’s perfectly fine with endangering Nesta’s life just to spare Elain, undermining both of their autonomy in the process. He’s supposed to be aware of what Nesta’s going through, living with her and Cassian, but he still pushes her into situations she’s not ready for, all to save his precious Elain. It’s like he sees Elain as this delicate flower who needs constant protection, while Nesta is just disposable in his eyes.

Let’s talk about that hike and how Azriel purposely packed Nesta’s bag heavier, knowing full well she’d be the one to carry it. It’s like he wanted her to struggle. It wasn’t some innocent mistake—Azriel knew exactly what he was doing. She’s being forced to train and rebuild herself, and instead of giving her even the smallest bit of support, he adds to her burden, literally. It just highlights how little he respects her. Even if they weren’t on the best terms, common decency would’ve meant not deliberately making her situation worse.

And don’t even get me started on the scene where Rhysand yells at Nesta and threatens her. Azriel, who’s supposedly this honorable, morally upright figure, just stands by and lets it happen. Not a word, not a glance, nothing. For someone who’s supposed to be observant, calculating, and protective, he sure had no problem watching Rhys humiliate her. If Azriel had any real respect or care for Nesta, he would’ve at least tried to step in, even if Rhys is his High Lord. He’s so quick to defend Elain, but when it comes to Nesta being verbally attacked by Rhysand, he stays completely silent, once again proving how little he values her well-being.

It’s like he’s willing to treat Nesta like garbage just to keep in Rhysand’s and Feyre’s good graces. There’s no friendship or camaraderie there—just complacency and a willingness to pile onto Nesta’s struggles.

[adhdo5]

HII please explain xianyao i am very intrigued by what you reblogged 🙇

OMG HAPPILY. So this won't be 100% comprehensive and may be a little incoherent because I am trying to get horizontal but so it goes

I am being a bit deceptive with the name – I don't actually ship them romanticsexually (I'm not opposed to it but even before the fact that I'm mostly interested in them being postcanon and WWX being in MXY's body makes it a no both for me and for JGY, my muses/ideas of them are just NOT into each other in that dimension), but I care . SAUR much abt them

So the thing is like . They pretty much never actually talk but JGY is kind of The most critical WWX parallel/foil in the narrative I would argue (unless we're counting LWJ who is the love interest), and they're kind of constantly ~in conversation on a narrative level – JGY's lot in life post-timeskip contrasted to MXY's and thus current WWX's but also especially as the plot goes on we get more comparisons wrt their origins, the ways they're dismissed, their relationships (WANGXIAN-XIYAO PARALLELS 4EVAR!!!!!!, to name the most significant but not only), and, most sharply, their downfalls. WWX, even as she agrees that JGY needs to be stopped, directly notes how the way the jianghu turns on JGY is chillingly familiar! And in the book from jump that kind of turning is regarded as functionally the same kind of dehumanization as ~pedestalization in a way. MXTX is so interested in how being in the public eye is kind of inherently dehumanizing in general, and in specific with how JGY's and WWX's pasts stick to them that effect is only redoubled – this is why I also call the dynamic shortlivedduo, after JGY's big speech in the temple, one of the few scenes they talk – JGY states frankly to WWX what the narrative has already been saying, that while WWX did some atrocities, that's not what matters, and the fact that she was misblamed isn't actually an anomaly – "that's just how you are," "you offend people wherever you go". And he in this speech places that on WWX's irreverence, and names that as the reason "people like [her] are destined to have a short life," but he's wrong, and he knows he's wrong. The actual gist of what he says to WWX is that she's a convenient scapegoat and that her being made into a sin eater is inevitable. And then fifteen minutes later he dies, and is regarded as the jianghu's new sin eater lol . And to pull further on that thread: WWX's irreverence and courage is the biggest foil point for them . JGY complies where WWX rebels; "it's exactly because he's [sic] right that he shouldn't say it"; that's the thing that makes them different, but it doesn't actually, because at the end of the day JGY is still as dehumanized by and disposable to the society he tries please as WWX ever was. Bc society, esp society as written in MDZS, is built to dehumanize people, especially people like him and WWX and MXY and XY. And that's the big lie! That's the big tragedy! JGY tried to be good by that society's standards his whole life but what he does doesn't actually matter and in many cases that priority is what limits his choices and drives him to sacrifice anything and anyone on the altar of that society until it's his turn to be sacrificed. And that's why I go so hard saying he's gay and homophobic

But more to the point . As I said WWX's big foil point to him is that she's willing to rebel where he isn't. She is willing and able to not succumb to learned helplessness and respectability when she sees injustice. And this isn't always effective, and it won't save the world, but it matters.

Like the post I rbed says . Especially after the hard lessons learned during and after Sunshot Wei Wuxian is willing to treat most anyone like a person and that's one of if not the primary narrative virtue most important to her arc .

JGY has spent frankly his entire life with the sharp knowledge that not everybody gets to be equally treated as a person, and certainly not as a person deserving of dignity or life. All privileges of personhood can be revoked at any time when it is convenient to those wielding social power – JGY has been victim and perpetrator of this both and the brutal and helpless acceptance of this is, again, what dooms him. Looking at the people in his life who matter to him too it's people who specifically don't mistreat him for that – LXC, QS, and SMS are obvious, but NMJ too is distinctly ~rigidly fair and never claims JGY is less worthy of the privileges of personhood until he is deep into qi deviation, and while we don't see much of his dynamic with NHS I think it's of note that NHS never treats him distinctly differently from how he treats LXC or NMJ, and that NHS is generally as a character much more cavalier abt the societal standards that tend to demean JGY. We don't see JGY with XY much or with MXY at all but XY regards him with pretty much as much dignity as XY is capable of and we do get that MXY to at least some extent looked up to him. JGY is drawn to and gets along with people who explicitly do not treat his personhood as conditional (wowwww so evil and sinister I know right (sorry... my apologism demons))

And that's what postcanon Xianyao is all about. 2 me. The fact that WWX recognizes the mechanisms that kill (or almost kill depending on the nature of whatever mechanism one is using to have JGY around) JGY. The fact that if anyone's capable of offering JGY an alternative to the paradigm JGY has bowed to for most of his life it's WWX. I don't think either of them necessarily like each other certainly not at first but I think that JGY's foil has something to teach him in that regard and I think WWX could be willing to do so. To treat him like a person. I think that kind of understanding and acceptance, even in absence of ~affection (honestly, especially in absence of that initially) is what JGY needs to start unlearning the shit that he destroys and betrayal himself for y'know? He needs to learn and start to internalize that dehumanization is not in fact a fundamental law of the world. WWX show him a better way. Blows up and dies

Other Xianyao thoughts: Everyone's said things abt the Yunmeng street kids parallels but that's also real. The fact that JGY's caution and diligence could also honestly be a solid influence on WWX and in terms of extending the themes of MDZS can tie back in to some of the ~social responsibility tht WWX is *free from* but maybe still shirking more than she should. Healing MXY's memory – JGY knew MXY in life where WWX never did and I think it's healing for both of them to unpack that. I think that as they do drift closer to actual friendship JGY starts calling WWX Wuxian in line with how he addresses NHS SMS MXY and sometimes XY by courtesy name

TL;DR: Jin Guangyao has wanted his whole life to be something other than the son of a whore and he was sold a lie about what that would mean, and Wei Wuxian's willingness to humanize The Enemy in contrast to their society's values can perhaps show him the actual way out