#but i want people to be able to block it if the very premise of sam/dean bothers them

[angelsfat3]

ꮩ, 狂信者。⸻[𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘢 𝘧𝘢𝘯...]

Summary: Your face is unique, your voice and your way of behaving is so special, maybe that's why he fell in love. But you're just his fan.

C/w: Ni-ki thought you were a girl (short reader), small mention of anxiety, everything happens very quickly. ㅤ－ㅤTw: Few curses, anxiety attack.

Genre: fluff, kinda suggestive, romance, two points of view.

A/N: Apart from the fact that I struggled to put Japanese and Korean words into romaji, I decided to write this story with Stuck in the Middle as background song, and somehow I feel that the whole writing feels like read a kdrama(This is so embarrassing and trashy (⁠╥⁠﹏⁠╥⁠))

your point of view.

The plane had finally landed at Incheon International Airport, marking the end of a long and tiring journey from Japan. You, with your backpack hanging from one shoulder and your heart beating with a mix of excitement and nervousness—because after months of insisting to your mother, she granted your wish to meet your favorite group—You decided that walking to your hotel would be a good way to familiarize yourself with the new surroundings and also to take advantage of taking photographs.

With the afternoon sun bathing the unknown streets, you began your journey trusting in the route marked by your phone, and your incipient knowledge of Korean.

As you progressed, the roads became narrower and the signs more confusing. The feeling of being lost began to slowly invade you, but your determination combined with stubbornness wanted to make you find the building through the image that was on Google...

As you turned a corner, you realized that you were just walking in circles, as the convenience stores and small restaurants were the same as those "three streets back."

The afternoon turned into twilight, and the warm lights of the lanterns began to come on, casting shadows that danced across the cobblestones.

The fear that you had been avoiding so much was present when a group of people passed by you and they only laughed. Your bad thoughts appeared with them, making you believe that maybe they were laughing at you.

Feeling more and more disoriented and exhausted, you decided to take a break and go into one of those stores just to buy a bottle of water and an onigiri. Five minutes passed just in you doing calculations to give the correct bill to the cashier.

As you left the premises you decided to start eating a little, trying to calm your mind and regain your composure. You checked the address on your phone again, but everything seemed just as confusing, the building was supposed to be a block away.

While you were looking for where to throw the plastic from the onigiri, from afar you could see a boy with a cap and a mask leaving a restaurant just a couple of meters from you, you thought it was destiny who gave you the opportunity to go to him and ask him. What can you lose? The dignity.

"E-excuse me!... You could- uh..." Your embarrassing attempt to ask him for help seemed to have scared him a little, because when he turned to look at you, he just made an "x" with his arms and gently shook his head.

Seconds later another boy came out of the restaurant, apparently he was with the person you had scared, so now you had two, quite tall men, glaring at you.

"Uh... Hotel?" Nerves took over you again, causing you to show them the image of the building you are looking for, pointing out the name of the place. When you didn't get a response you only felt a slight desire to cry, you felt that the last opportunity to have a comfortable place to sleep and to be able to see the people you admired.

Your hands began to shake and your heart accelerated after a few seconds because of how the boys looked around, not really knowing what to say to you.

"Uzai..." You turned off your phone as soon as you could and gave a small bow. "I'm sorry...I'm sorry for making you lose-...How do you say Jikan in Korean?" You whispered the last sentence. "Ah!, I'm sorry to waste your time..."

"You speak Japanese?" Suddenly, a deep voice interrupted your thoughts. “Do you need help with something?” You looked up slightly, meeting the eyes of the boy who had just come out. He apparently noticed your concern, so he would quickly try to strike up a quick conversation.

"Yeah.. I'm a little lost," you admitted, feeling a bit of relief at finally finding someone willing to help. "I'm looking for this hotel," you said, showing the address on your phone.

He simply nodded, understanding your situation. "Oh, I know that place, it used to be above the center of Seoul, but they changed it to the Gangnam area. It's not too far from here. Do you want us to accompany you?” He asked adjusting his cap.

“I like the idea! But... Will your friend agree?” You responded, tilting your head a little, noticing the brunette in the back with his gaze focused on his phone.

“He'll be fine, come on, I'll take you—we'll take you to the hotel, before it gets too late,” he responded with a smile from under the fabric.

You thanked him for his kindness and together they began to walk, eventually the other boy followed behind them. The conversation flowed easily, and you discovered that he was also a fan of the same group. The coincidence made you feel more comfortable and less alone along the way.

From the way you both laughed or made very clumsy jokes, people around you could deduce that you were lifelong friends, when the reality is that you had been talking for 15 minutes since he offered to take you. During some moments there were also small friction between your hand and his or even when you caught him staring at you, either in the eyes or at your lips.

As you two walked, you realized that you had missed a small alley that connected directly to the main street where your hotel was located.

"Well... I think this is the end, pretty girl" he commented, pausing in his walk, making you see the large building.

Finally, you arrived at the hotel just as the sky turned completely dark. When you said goodbye to your new friend, a feeling of sadness flooded your body for a few seconds, it was a shame that the only person who helped you did not have a phone number and continue to know each other, however you thanked him deeply for his help.

He wished you a good stay and reminded you to enjoy every moment of your trip.

As you were about to enter through the revolving door, turning around just to look at him and say, "I'm a boy," you let out a laugh as you saw his eyes widen.

"Oh yeah? Oh.. well, never mind. It was nice meeting you, pretty boy." He finished saying goodbye to you with his hand moving from side to side. You quickly went into the hotel with your face all red from the nickname he had given you.

Entering your room, you dropped your backpack and collapsed on the bed, feeling a mix of relief and satisfaction. Despite the setback, you had managed to get there and, in the process, you had made a new friend. With a smile on your face, you prepared to rest, knowing that tomorrow you would be face to face with your idols.

￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣

“So.. Was she really cute or were you just doing this out of kindness?” a male voice asked.

“Cute.. he was cute.” The taller boy responded, with his head down as he continued walking towards a company, next to his friend.

"He?! Holy shit, Ni-ki... You're in serious trouble if anyone else finds out.” Heeseung commented.

“I know, but I doubt they will ever know, for my bad or good luck, I only spoke with him for a couple of minutes,” He paused while he removed his mask and cap once inside the facility. "His voice... his eyes, everything about him was so cute, did you see how small he looked next to me... ssibal" he whisper.

“Yes, I know how he looked like, I was also going with you two, in case you forgot,” Heeseung said with a slight expression of annoyance, this because of the dramatic way in which Ni-ki gently pressed his forehead with his hand. “It's not the end of the world either, you know? Maybe you will meet him by chance another day and—”

“Or perhaps I will never see him again and I will die without even knowing his name,” Ni-ki commented.

￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣

The sun was just beginning to rise when, still with the excitement of the previous day throbbing in your chest, you woke up to the insistent sound of the alarm. Today was the day you would finally get to see the boys you've admired for a while face to face, and the excitement was mixed with a touch of nervousness.

A new day began normally, although given the fact that it was your first time in another country and alone, you felt like you were in a dream movie or drama. Clouds adorned the sky, which was as blue as the sea. When you jumped up just to open the window, your entire room lit up.

After a quick breakfast and a mental review of what you planned to tell them, you left for the event venue. The city was alive at that time of the morning, but you only had one thing on your mind: fansing.

And, although you didn't want to admit it, you also thought about the boy you had met the day before, the one who had turned you red and tomato for the simple fact of calling you "pretty boy."

You kept thinking about the way in which on the short journey from that place to your hotel, he always tried to make you smile or talk about your tastes. His deep voice, his height, the way he tried to make you feel safe and although it was difficult to see his face, his eyes were so pretty. A dark brown adorned on the outside by her long, drooping eyelashes... It was so cute.

You left the hotel completely ready, a small bag where you carried small gifts for each member, as well as the most recent album so they could sign it.

Upon arriving at the venue, the energy in the atmosphere was palpable. The lights, the preparations, the murmur of the people... Everything contributed to a crescendo of anticipation. You tried to stay focused as you waved at a few girls before you.

Ni-ki's pov.

The day had started early for him, as usual. The alarms sounded in sync with the first ray of sunlight, calling all members of the group to prepare for the day's event. With automatic movements, he headed to the bathroom, washing his face and brushing his teeth as he tried to clear away the drowsiness.

He carefully chose his outfit, casual but in the iconic colors of his comeback, adding the finishing touch with a pair of accessories he knew fans would love.

Although fansings turned out to be somewhat exhausting, there was something about this particular one that filled him with an inexplicable excitement. Maybe it was the fact that they had spent weeks in the studio, or maybe it was the simple pleasure of seeing their fans again.

As he got ready, his thoughts returned to the boy he had met the day before. The pretty boy, as he had called him in a moment of spontaneity, continued to haunt his mind. He remembered how his eyes sparkled when he talked about his passions, the way they became more slanted when he laughed at some bad joke, how his smile seemed to light up the surroundings, and how his initial nervousness dissipated as they talked.

Upon arriving at the event venue, feelings of nervousness and excitement were mixed. The routine of getting ready, arranging some things with the staff, and going over the day's agenda was carried out with precision, but his thoughts kept wandering to that unexpected meeting. He wondered if he would see him again one day, if fate would allow them to cross paths again.

With each passing minute, the anticipation grew. The team gave them the final instructions while preparations progressed around them. The lights were shining brightly, the stage was set, and the fans' enthusiastic screams echoed in their ears, creating an electrifying atmosphere. It was all part of the magic of the moment.

When Ni-ki finally took the stage, he focused on doing his best, trying to connect with every fan who had come to see him, shaking hands, praising fans' perfumes or accessories, etc.

And then, as he waited for the next fan, in the crowd, as he watched some girls, waving at them, his eyes met a familiar look.

He couldn't believe it: the pretty boy was there, approaching him, with a small bag in hand and a nervous but radiant smile. In that instant, all the noise, lights, and hubbub seemed to fade away, leaving only the memory of those brown eyes and the surprise of an unexpected connection in the midst of chaos.

Ni-ki felt his heart speed up, and a warm feeling of happiness enveloped him, unable to hide a smile from ear to ear.

The boy approached timidly, not really knowing how to start the conversation. Ni-ki, still shocked by the sight, was the first to speak.

"Hello!" Ni-ki said with a smile, trying to hide his own surprise. "Is this your first time here?"

The boy smiled back, although clearly nervous. “Um... Actually, yes,” the boy responded, almost whispering. “I…brought this for you” He extended the bag towards him, making the taller boy take a look inside.

Ni-ki carefully took the bag and looked inside better, finding a small letter and some candys. He looked up and saw that the boy was watching him carefully, waiting for his reaction.

“This is... Thank you very much, this is very nice,” he responded, letting out a soft laugh, feeling a pleasant warmth in his chest. "What's your name?" He asked.

The shorter boy blushed, his gaze dropping to the ground for a moment before meeting Ni-ki's eyes again. “My name is [...]” he responded as he watched his Idol take his hand out of the corner of his eye, causing his heart to beat rapidly.

Ni-ki felt a mixture of shame and tenderness. He didn't want to pressure him, knowing that his Korean wasn't the best, so he decided to move forward gently.

“Oh! Are you japanese? You would have told me before…” exclaimed the tallest one, regulating his voice so that only the one in front of him could hear him. "I'm glad you have come. You are having fun?"

The boy nodded, clearly relieved by the change of topic and language. "Yes, a lot. It's my first time at a fansing, and it's... amazing. I can't believe I'm here, talking to you, holding your hand...”

“Well, believe me, I'm very glad you came,” Ni-ki commented, feeling a special connection in that moment. However, unfortunately time couldn't stop just so the two of you could continue talking, so you continued at the same pace as always, one minute and goodbye. “I hope you enjoy the rest of the event. And thanks again for the gift. It means a lot to me."

You were both silent for a moment, just smiling, staring at each other. The rest of the minute they spent talking about basic things: tastes, music, clothes and sometimes about the album.

Finally, the boy said bye with a soft "goodbye", and Ni-ki watched him approach the next member, his heart still pounding.

When the event was over and Ni-ki had a moment to reflect, he realized that that brief encounter had left a deep mark on him. The unexpected connection, the mix of shame and love, all contributed to an experience he would cherish for a long time.

"So... that boy turned out to be our fan" Heeseung said, approaching the minor, gently squeezing his shoulder in a way to comfort him.

“No, he's just my fan.” He smiled, caressing the letter you had previously given him.

￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣

메모 ! 📌ㅤ⸻ㅤ Let's avoid the fact that I put Ronaldo in the Lore and let's avoid that I also made everything very cliché. 😴

ㅤㅤ아이디어 !ㅤ⸻ㅤI'm very short of ideas lately, so feel free to ㅤㅤㅤ leave me any requests! <⁠(⁠￣⁠︶⁠￣⁠)⁠>

ㅤㅤ All credits to @angelsfat3 / @foschiamara

￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣

[lowkeyrobin]

Mcyt bbut a Karen makes their S/O cry? :0

It's the readers first ever encounter with one in the wild and at first Y/N just,,, tries to ignore the woman/leave but the Karen does the usual of not letting em leave and then Y/N gets overwhelmed and starts crying?-

BAHAHHAAB I LOVE FUCKING WRITINF ABOUT KARENS I CANNOT LMFAOOOOOO ; thank you for the request lol ; I got a random strike of writers block halfway through and its very obvious I'm sorry

MCYT ; wild karen encounter

includes ; tommyinnit, ranboo, badlinu, nihachu, quackity, & foolish gamers

warnings ; language, iterations of homophobia/transphobia & fatphobia, Karen activity, reader is described as nonbinary

masterlist

TOMMYINNIT

you two went different ways while clothes shopping and you were looking at more fem/masc (whichever doesn't conform with your sex) clothing

you felt someone glaring daggers at you so you glanced up and saw some random ass woman staring at you, accompanied by her 13ish year old son

she started making remarks about how you shouldn't be looking at those clothes and it's not "modest" for a little young man/woman like you

like mf you're nonbinary huh

you try to ignore her, meanwhile her son looks SO uncomfortable and wants to very obviously leave

she starts recording you out of no where to call you slurs and the sons just like "mom stop" and of course she doesn't

you end up crying and trying to hide it while you defend yourself but you get quickly overstimulated and flustered

the yelling caught Tommy's attention so he quickly walks over like "woah, woah, woah, what's going on?"

and she starts SCREAMING at poor Tommy about you

he looks at you literally wiping your tears while she's STILL recording it and he just peacefully flames her ass

"it doesn't matter what the hell they wear, clothes don't have gender and I could care less about what my partner buys and wears and how they express themselves. go post that to Facebook and look like a fuckin' idiot."

he pulls you away to the changing rooms so you can talk in private and eventually try on the clothes you were looking for

while he was going that he got a hold of a nearby security officer and told them about the situation since you'd both been illegally recorded on the premises of the store

he didn't wanna press charges for you or anything but at least wanted the woman escorted out to look more like a dumbass, considering the security guard had to call the police because what she did was a crime

couple days later you found the video and bodycam footage of the woman being detained and arrested for resisting arrest and recording someone without consent on private property, which is marked as a felony where you live

live laugh love Tommy bc everyone in the video description was hyping him up and saying how bad they felt for you and even the son 🫶

RANBOO

dude you can't even go grocery shopping without people bitching about you guys

you were just trying to pick out some chips and this lady walks past with a scoff

ran quickly turns around like, "Sorry, can we help you?"

she quickly starts yelling about how you gay people are all going to hell and shit

ranboo quickly spits back but you get overstimulated and really take it to heart and you tear up a bit

the lady notices and points it out

she then follows you around the store, yelling at you and shit while they're on the phone dialing the non emergency police line because wtf is wrong w this lady???

before you're questioned and after she's detained, you guys stand alone and try to calm yourself down because you were just getting really stressed about it because wtf do you even do in that situation

gives you a big hug and reassures you that it's okay to cry

he's generally just proud of you in general for being able to hold yourself together for the most part

FREDDIE BADLINU

you two were going out for a little movie date, and dressed in tuxedos to watch Saw X

some dumbass dude was making snarky comments to his wife about you two considering you were holding hands while ordering snacks

Freddie turns around, having heard the guy talking about you thinking he dropped something "can I help you?" He asks in the nicest tone possible

the man and his wife both start making nasty comments about "this generation going to hell" and how you're brainwashing Freddie or something???

you almost immediately start crying because you're trying to ignore it and talk to the girl behind the counter filling your popcorn bucket who doesn't know what to do

she quickly pushes the security button under the counter because she can see your distress and how Freddie was just like stunned as he looked between the couple and you cause like wth

once they're escorted out you're the first in the theater so you guys sit there and talk it all out because you got really overwhelmed

he gives you a hug and reassures you that you did nothing wrong and you're gonna enjoy the movie

the dude had a warrant out for his arrest for not paying child support anyways L

NIKI NIHACHU

you two were out on a walk in a park holding hands and shit and passed this little family down by the creek

the mom just goes full fucking demon mode and starts recording you guys and shouting at you

niki quickly retaliated with a "leave us alone!" before walking off

you were visibly pretty shaken but she reassures you everything is okay and she probably wasn't even recording

she ends up finding the video a few days later

thankfully all the comments were supporting you two and flaming the lady's ass lmao

QUACKITY

you guys were out doing stuff (getting shit at home depot for quackitys new house and peojects) and some Karen was judging your abilities to handy-man basically

"actually, my partner is the best handyman I know! so shut the fuck up"

the Karen immediately goes to the front to get a manager or some shit

meanwhile yall quickly checkout and leave

while leaving you see her getting detained for resisting an officer with violence and threatening an officer 🥰

that becomes a story you tell at every single "family reunion" (meetup with friends)

he still boasts about yelling at someone like that

FOOLISH GAMERS

you guys were out getting snacks for a movie night with friends that were staying over

some Karen made a comment how you needed to go on a diet or some shit since you were the one carrying the basket full of unhealthy snacks

foolish quickly whips around and flames her ass

you just kinda stand there like "wtf"

foolish slings an arm around your shoulders and leads you away since she wouldn't stop blabbering and was threatening to call the cops for some reason

back in the car he reassures you that you do not need to go on a diet and you don't need to listen to the lady whatsoever

movie night was 10/10 you watched Barbie & roasted Saltburn bc that movie wasn't good like at all

[gummyfang]

♡♡♡ |   ˗ˏˋ Passing Stars || Chapter 1  ´ˎ˗

➳　【 C a p t a i n　Ｒ e x　ｘ　Ｒｅａｄｅｒ】

❧ Warnings: 𝐠/𝐧 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫, 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 / 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐬 𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫, 𝐬𝐥𝐨𝐰 𝐛𝐮𝐫𝐧 (𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐬𝐥𝐨𝐰 𝐢𝐭 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐮𝐩 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐝𝐞𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐨𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐩𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐬𝐦𝐟𝐡), 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧-𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲/𝐰𝐚𝐫

[ 4.0𝐤 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬 ]

𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬:  first multi-part series. clone fever hit hard. i'm actually really happy with this for a change. This chapter is the set-up for the conflict at hand :) im currently on s6 of TCW and AUFHHGHH i just got past the Fives arc. im a bit insane atm. anyways ENJOYY

“I promise, you will get your rifle back when you leave the premises. It’s just procedure- you’re not authorized to carry any weapons into the Jedi Temple.”

You gritted your teeth at the Guard blocking your path as firmly held onto your sniper rifle, as if he’d have to pluck it from your cold dead hands if he wanted to take it from you. 

Despite your stubborn attitude, you knew your faux little display of rebellion was a losing battle. As much as you refused to trust the Jedi, you were left with little choice but to go to them for help. 

There was very little on your planet for you to return to, other than the remnants of the cities the Separatist forces had quietly seized for themselves. A sparsely populated planet circling a neutron star, right near the outer edge of the mid rim. Nothing remarkable on its own, but full of mining communities ripe for the Separatists to exploit for their excessive droid production.

For as far as you knew, you were the only one who’d been able to penetrate the blockade.

You sniffed, still agitated as you dropped the sniper rifle into the storage bin. The thought of the poor working conditions your people were being put through to mine materials for those bastards was enough to temporarily put yourself past your distaste for the Republic.

“Thank you.” the Guard responded dryly, unable to hide the hint of sarcasm in his voice. 

“Be careful with it.” you sneered, almost shoulder checking the man on your way past him. If you were being honest with yourself, you had to acknowledge you were being unreasonable with this poor man. He was only here to do his job and people like you did not make it any easier. But being subject to an invasion had clouded your sense of self, and maybe your ability to be reasonable. Just a little.

You were led to a woman dressed in robes, but you did not know enough about the clothing habits of the Jedi to tell whether she was one of them or not. She nodded, exchanging a few friendly words and beckoning for you to follow her. Your arrival was expected.

A sense of unease washed over you as you made your way through the towering hallways of the Temple. The air tasted warm and stale, the building’s age and the many people that passed through it permeating through its scent. The hallways were far from empty, used for conversation, and in some cases even training, judging by the bright light emitting from those unsettling trademark blades they carried.

Keeping your head low, you ignored the passing glances that were being sent your way. 

A morbid part of you wish you’d died and the torch of fate had been passed on to another unfortunate soul, one more equipped to deal with diplomatic matters such as these. But these were the cards you’d been dealt, and you had little choice but to play them now. 

The tapping of the lady’s shoes accelerated as she swiftened her step, opening the door for you. She moved out of the way, gesturing for you to head inside as she stood outside the door. It was clear she was not accompanying you any further, so you gave her a curt nod and stepped through the opening. 

When the heavy metal doors fell shut behind you with a loud thunk, you were met by several pairs of eyes fixated on you. As if you were a scared animal, you could feel the hair in your neck begin to rise. Despite your feverish thoughts of reassurance and weak attempts to ease your nerves, your sense of unease had failed to dissipate. 

There were three of them. None of their heads adorned the same mask as the woman that had guided you through the hallways, and two of them were sporting similar robes, though there were some differences in how they wore them. Jedi, you were sure of it. 

As soon as you’d entered the room, the taller of the two Jedi took a step forward. He had a striking appearance, eyebrows casting a shadow over his blue eyes. Across his right ran a scar, marking his experience in combat. His robes were black and reddish brown, much darker than those of the red-robed young togruta who stayed in her place by the table. You did not fail to take note of the weapons hanging off their hips, subconsciously feeding into your discomfort even more.

The man in the corner stood out from the two. He was clearly not a Jedi. In the absence of robes, his body was instead covered in full white armor painted with blue stripes. This included his head, covered by a broad helmet covered in markings. A clone, you realized, eyes widening slightly. Your life being mostly secluded to a neutral planet in a neutral system, you’d only ever see brief glances of them on propaganda posters and on the occasional business trip to systems under Republic control.

You were snapped out of your thoughts when the tall Jedi cleared his throat. When you gave him a good look a second time, you noticed he’d moved his hand to cover the hilt of his lightsaber, as had the younger one in the back. Right, Jedi. Mindreaders. 

“Welcome.” he began, giving you a small nod. You nodded back, waiting for him to continue. 

“My name is Anakin Skywalker. This is my Padawan, Ahsoka Tano.” He gestured towards his apprentice, who in turn also greeted you with a small nod. You briefly glanced at the clone in the corner, but he did not speak up to introduce himself, nor did Anakin make a move to introduce him. Oh well. Maybe he was not to be in contact with you directly, who knows what hierarchy they set up in these Temples?

“[Name].” you responded briefly, nothing more, nothing less. 

“[Name].” Anakin echoed your name back at you. “It was your distress signal we received last week, then. We know the basic details of the situation described, but following your message, the Council has been unable to make contact with any representative from your planet. Would you mind explaining what’s going on back there?” You scoffed.

“I would, actually. Having said that, I want to make it clear I am not telling you anything before we have laid down some ground rules.” Despite the hints towards their ability to read your mood and mind from earlier, this seemed to catch them all by surprise. Anakin’s eyebrows lifted slightly, and Ahsoka exchanged a glance with the clone behind him.

“Not telling u- But you’re the one who contacted us for help.” His voice was stern, but mostly laced with surprise.

“The only reason I visited this war-forsaken place was because this is the Jedi’s conflict to resolve! Nobody else’s!” you snarled, somehow working up the courage to jab him in his chest. “The Hakheen system has been a neutral system for the entire duration of the war that you started. We’ve done everything we can to keep ourselves uninvolved with the conflict- and a decade of hard work was undone when you decided to take over our only two neighboring systems! Your thoughtless actions are what put us on the Separatist radar which has now resulted in a full hostile planetary takeover!”

“What?” the togruta spoke up for the first time, giving you a wide-eyed stare. 

It was just as you feared. Hakheen’s takeover had been effectively kept a secret from the rest of the galaxy. Not only did that mean the Jedi Order would only have your word to go off, it also meant you really had been the only person to escape the droid suppression and the blockade around the planet.

“You’re sure? The entire planet has been subject to a takeover, not just your region?” Anakin chimed back in, putting himself past your hostile disposition towards him.

“Trust me, General, I don’t want to be here either. I’d rather have come groveling at the feet of anyone before I came licking the boots of the Jedi Order. But the scale of this invasion has left me with no choice but to come knocking at your door. Like I said, this is your responsibility and you are to fix this mess that you made. After we have been liberated, the Republic will leave us be and we can call this even.”

Ahsoka struggled to speak for a moment, the markings across her brow furrowing. “But that’s not a fair assessment to make.” she retorted. Your gaze met with hers, feeling your blood begin to run a few degrees hotter with building anger. “The Jedi Order only steps in when-” “Snips.” Anakin’s firm voice interrupted her. The Jedi had turned his head to face her, shooting her a warning glance. “Enough.”

This was difficult enough as is. You clearly did not trust either of them, which meant that any form of discussion or negotiation was going to be a struggle. Even if they didn’t agree with your point of view, there was no point in arguing against it. Letting the Separatists enslave the population of a planet being used for a large-scale assault against the Republic was not something they could ignore regardless. 

You were grateful for the intervention. Ahsoka was clearly younger than you, but given the situation and your emotional state, you don’t know how long you could’ve kept your cool.

“I agree that we should stage a counterattack. It’s in everyone’s best interest, from what you have described.” Anakin explained calmly. “But that doesn’t mean we can just blindly agree to your terms. Regardless of whether or not we believe you- and trust me, we do- we will need more concrete proof that what you are saying is true. And if we are to negotiate terms like this with you, you need some form of political status.” Averting your eyes, you stared at the ground. You didn’t have a proper response to that. Sure, you had political aspirations growing up, but the situation you grew up in did not allow many people from Hakheen to pursue their dreams. Despite your promising education, like most people, you were forced to sell animal parts you and your family hunted to make ends meet. There was no room and no budget to invest in some vague ambassadorial aspirations, and this was likely the furthest you’d come in that regard.

“There were others.” you decided to pivot, realizing there was no lying your way out of this anyways. “I was with a group of six escapees. Among them was our Minister of Intersystemary Affairs and two ambassadors to different planets in the Outer Rim, don’t know which.” For the first time in that conversation you looked desperate. You eyed Anakin questioningly, slightly hopeful your presumptions were incorrect.

“We… haven’t heard anything but your distress signal.” he responded quietly. “I’m sorry.”

You could feel your heart skin in your chest. That severely complicated the situation. Although you hated to admit it, Anakin was right. Nobody on Coruscant had any reason to take someone of your age and status, or rather lack thereof, seriously. 

After a moment of silence, Anakin took a step back. “Either way, this is enough information to alert the Council and to send people to look into the situation. Especially considering the urgency, this will be dealt with swiftly.”

You sighed, rubbing the bridge of your nose in thought and frustration. “Even with how long the Senate takes to allow, well… fucking anything?”

“For matters that impede our ability to defend ourselves we don’t have to run it by the Senate. Otherwise we’d be handing our asses on a plate to the Seppies at their every move.” He cracked a grin at his own joke before quickly steeling his expression again. “Considering what you told us about an imminent attack on neighboring systems, I consider that more than enough probable cause to take action.” You softly exhaled a breath you didn’t even know you’d been holding. Seems like something was going your way at the very least. Bitterly, you thought how the impending attack on the Republic was the only incentive they had to act so quickly. Still, you’d take their selfish help over waiting for your people to die anyday. 

“You two, with me.” Anakin turned around. “We will be right back.” The clone and the padawan followed right behind him, and you watched the door close, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

Just as you were, Rex was also left to stew in his own thoughts as he followed the two Jedi out of the meeting room. The information weighed on his mind. He’d of course heard the stories of how the Trade Federation attempted to pressure Naboo into signing a treaty with a takeover and a blockade. It wasn’t entirely new territory for the Jedi Order to deal with. But he’d never heard of a successful quiet overtake to this extent before. This was on a whole new level, even for the Separatists. 

Furthermore, he was not entirely sure what to make of the character they’d just met. Although he had nothing against you personally, you did not present yourself as the easiest person to work with. They were going to have to find a way past that if you really were the only person who could testify about what the Separatists were carrying out on Hakheen. 

Still, there was a lot he admired about you, even from such a short interaction. 

Separatist blockades could be a serious hazard. Those things had cost the Republic a lot of men over the years, both regular pilots and clones alike. It was nothing short of a miracle you had managed to break through one, but was also undoubtedly a sign of skill on some level. 

He also had to admit he admired your resolve. For as far as he could tell, you weren’t military. Time and time again he’d seen that the challenge of stepping up for what was right was too difficult for many people, even if the situation forced them too. You’d proved well enough you were not a part of that group.

“Rex, a moment. Snips, you go on ahead.”

On queue, the clone captain straightened his back. “General Skywalker.” 

Anakin looked between him and Ahsoka rounding the corner at the end of the hallway before continuing. “I think you should stay with our guest. I was originally going to have Ahsoka stay with them while I discussed our plan of action with you, since she’s probably a bit better at small talk than the two of us. But, as you could see, our friend isn’t exactly comfortable around a bunch of Jedi.”

Your discomfort was hard to miss, even without the outright spiteful curses you spat at them. 

“Good point, sir. But don’t you think this discomfort extends to any aspect of the Republic?”

“Eh, not really.” Anakin shrugged. “But it’s worth a shot. It’s not what I sensed, anyways. And I don’t think they’re particularly eager to hang out with Snips after what happened back there. We need them around here in case the Council wants to question them. Just act relaxed, try to put them at ease.”

Rex hummed. “Alright sir. I’ll await further instructions.” he stated, nodding quickly before turning back around.

Though you couldn’t discern what they were saying, the fact you could hear their voices humming faintly through the thick doors made you uneasy. They were talking about you, you were sure of it. The General had sounded sincere enough when you explained your situation to him, but you had no way to tell whether he was being sincere or not. The Jedi had a reputation for being deceptive, and for likening themselves to heroes despite being warmongers. 

For all you knew, you’d done nothing but initiate a second territorial takeover with this stunt. But, then again, doing anything to try and fix the situation was worth trying over being complacent with the millions of deaths on your home planet. 

You were snapped out of your restless train of thought by the door sliding back open, revealing the clone captain from earlier standing in the doorway. The Jedi were no longer with him. Probably they’d gone off to relay your message to that Council they mentioned earlier, you figured. 

As the man headed towards one of the chairs on the other side of the meeting room table, your eyes followed him sharply, though it was more out of curiosity than distrust. Although you’d seen and heard a couple of clones distantly during your business trips to nearby Republic systems, this was the first time you encountered one up close and personal. 

Of course you'd seen that helmet plenty of times, whether it be on Republic propaganda posters or the holonet. It almost looked fake to be met with one in real life. Though you noted his was far more decorated than the ones you’d seen in illustrations before. Aside from the two deep blue markings glaring at you above his visor, the surface was absolutely covered in tally marks. You could only guess whether it represented the number of lives he took or the number of battles he’d fought his way through, but you didn’t doubt it marked his skill in combat. 

“Ah, right. Sorry. Where are my manners?” His modulated voice snapped you out of your gaze. You could feel the embarrassment rise up in your chest as you realized you’d been staring at him like a frightened lothcat.

Swiftly, the man removed his helmet, leaving it to rest on his hip under his arm. Once again, the face you were met with was one you’d definitely seen in illustrations many times before, but never had you seen it in person.

“No, no, I’m sorry.” you apologized with a dull tone, too flustered to keep looking him in the eye. “I was staring.”

Rex cracked a small smile as he placed his battle-worn helmet down on the table, taking a seat diagonally across from yours. Quietly, he still wondered how he was going to approach you, considering mediation was not exactly his specialty. However, it seemed that Anakin was right to a certain extent at least. They’d only just left the room and your attitude was already nothing like it was five minutes ago.

“I’ve never met a clone before.” you continued at his silence, feeling the need to explain yourself.

“Right. We don’t go to neutral systems unless we have a good reason to. Having our men on ground untouched by the war usually causes more unrest than it is worth. You don’t visit Republic systems often, then?”

“Not much, no.” you replied, slacking your shoulders a little. “Sometimes, though. To sell our stuff elsewhere. We're hunters.” Rex rested his elbow on his knee, leaning forward. “Hunters, eh?” he asked, interested. His position did not often require him to make small talk with civvies. 

“Yeah. Most of our planet’s exports are minerals. My family members from a few generations back or something decided to capitalize on something else. I mean- We sell most of our meat on Hakheen, but the horns and bones are sought after in other systems. But… yeah, that’s probably not something that’s going to draw any clones to our booth.”

“Guess not.” Rex chuffed, leaning back into his seat again with crossed arms. The captain was not exactly familiar with your planet or the wildlife it contained, but he figured it wasn’t a small deal if it was worth the transport to other systems to sell your products.

The room became quiet again as you both struggled to find something to say. You found the courage to look up at him again, giving his face a proper look. 

Beyond a shadow of a doubt you’d seen that face countless times online before, but there were a lot of details to his appearance that set him apart from the mental image of a clone you’d built up over the years. The most obvious was that his roots were blonde, as opposed to the trademark brown you were used to reading about. You vaguely wondered if he dyed it to stand out as an individual, or if it was a phenotypic abnormality he was born with.

The second thing that caught your attention were his eyes. They were nothing like the cold, battle-hungry stares you’d come to learn they all supposedly had. There was a certain tension to his posture that stayed present even as the two of you conversed about nothing, but his eyes carried a strength that was more reassuring than threatening. It honestly made him a lot more handsome than the faces you remembered from the posters.

Rex cleared his throat, thinking of a sensible way to ask the question that weighed on his mind.

“If you don’t mind me asking, sir… How were you able to penetrate the blockade? We’ve lost a lot of good men to those, no matter the size of the blockade. It might help us strategize on how to get through.”

You took a deep breath, your fingers interlocking nervously. You hated thinking back to that day. The trip to Coruscant had been a laborious traumatizing trip on its own, but it did not compare to the hell you had to endure to break through the Separatist army.

“Apologies. I shouldn't have asked that until General Skywalker is back.”

“No.” you quickly responded. “No, it’s fine. Honestly though, it’s probably not the answer you’re looking for. I just- I just got lucky.” Feet rubbing together in a nervous tic, you continued. “I know none of the crafts near the west of the capital did not even make it out of the atmosphere. My group all managed to overwhelm the droids stationed at the southeastern airport for long enough to hijack a few spacecrafts. From there on out I guess I just got lucky.”

“It takes more than just luck to survive something like this.” Rex reassured you gently. Though he sounded genuine, you couldn’t agree with him. 

“To a certain extent, perhaps. But I was panicking and I guess that ended up being in my favor. We all decided to split up to heighten our chances of one of us breaking through. I heated up my hyperdrive as soon as I passed the atmosphere and just prayed to whatever gods I could think of that I wouldn't blast myself through a star.”

“You didn’t do calculations?”

“No, none. I was right above a city south of the capital when I made the jump. Didn’t end up seeing any ships from the blockade, but they must have been there. Nobody else I left ever contacted me after I made it through.”

Rex made a mental note to ask you about the details of that location later. Identifying a potential weak spot in their blockade could be vital to a successful mission, but he sensed you’d been asked enough about this for today.

“It’s good that you took that risk. I promise your case is in good hands with General Skywalker. He personally insisted on tackling it as soon as he received your distress signal. We will do everything to ensure your planet will be free of Seppies when we leave.”

Despite sighing through your nose, you managed to flash him a weak smile. Even if you weren’t particularly fond of the Jedi Order and the factions it was allied with, you had desperately needed someone to just be kind to you after the horrendous situation you’d found yourself in for the past week. 

“Thank you, uh…” Your voice trailed off as you stared at him, questioningly. 

“Captain Rex. At your service.”

You gave him a proper smile this time, nodding. You were about to open your mouth to continue the conversation, when a high-pitched beeping started emanating from Rex’s wrist. His comlink. You stared as he pressed the button, a light blue hologram of the General you’d met earlier springing up from the device. “Rex, you should come over here. Both of you.”

[averagewriter-inthedark]

Eye of The Storm ⛈| Six of Crows Imagine

Takes place during the events of Shadow & Bone S2

My Masterlists

Characters & Pairings: Crows x Squaller/Saint!Reader (platonic), Kaz Brekker x reader (slight/eventual)

Content Warnings: fighting, blood, profanity, cannon divergence | female!reader (she/her) | wc: 4.9k

Requested 📨: yes/no

Premise: As the Crows make their way back to the Slate following their climatic dethronement of Pekka Rollins, they are ambushed by his supporters with no plan of action to escape. As they slowly accept their fate, what was once a clear night is rained upon with lightning and thunder in its wake. Having beat the odds of meeting one living Saint in their lifetime, the Crows are stunned when their savior, a player in the ever unfolding drama in Ravka, is the legend in stories of restoring life in the world when all hope was lost.

Note: although the Saint name I give is not Y/n, it’s still a reader insert and explains more at the end (it’s not an OC) also I know Zoya is called Sankta Zoya of the Storm but I have yet to get to her arc so for this the reader has powers equivalent to her

————————

The sirens had finally seized, concluding the hysteria in the streets of Ketterdam once it was revealed the Firebox outbreak was a hoax. Constructed by none other than the Bastard of the Barrel and his thieves amongst men, the Crows. After years of heated tension, and guided vengeance, against Pekka Rollins, Kaz Brekker succeeded in his plans of putting down the Lion that had ruined his life. Constant mental torture as he manuevered his players on their chestboard now able to rest.

“Where were you?” His voice was raspy, face still painted with his blood from the beating as he addressed Inej when she appeared from the shadows. They had been making their way back to the Slat. Nina, Wylan, and Jesper were flanked beside him, the dimly lit street light shining down on the group. Inej had been the only one not accounted for, flooding Kaz with anxiety mixed with anger that she strayed from the plan.

“I--.”

A gloved hand came up, stopping her. “Actually, I’d rather not hear what you have to say.” he wanted to shout. Reprimand her for being so foolish. Voice how her actions could’ve gotten her or one of them hurt because they had no idea where she was.

Despite these desires, the pain in Kaz’s body was too much and he was in need of a strong drink. Inej narrowed her eyes, but the man brushed past her leaving the others to send her looks of sympathy. Falling in step, the group followed behind Kaz, making note of how empty the streets were at that time of night. It was eerie. Yeah they may have caused an uproar with their little stunt, but they assumed there’d still be people out and about.

Dance halls and clubs are empty. The markets closed for business. Not a soul in sight. Wylan was the first to speak, “I’ve never seen it this quiet.”

“Very odd if I must say,” Jesper agreed, unconsciously letting his hands fall to where his guns strapped to his belt. His intuition was picking at his brain at the feeling that something wasn’t right.

“Wouldn’t be surprised if someone’s plotting now that Pekka is gone,” Inej made note of their surroundings. They were only a block from the Slat. Soon they’d be in the comfort of their home, able to bask in the relief they pulled their task off. A warm cup of tea by the fireplace before it came time for bed. Inej was looking forward to it.

But unfortunately, fate had other plans.

Nina suddenly froze, “Stop,” all movement seized, heads turning to the heartrender. Unease consumed them as they took in the sudden paleness of her appearance. “I hear heartbeats.” There was a subtle gulp, the woman adding in a low tone, “a lot of heartbeats.”

Tensing, they were met with the sounds of footsteps approaching from every angle. Inej pulled out her knives, as did Jesper with his guns. Wylan clutched his satchel to his chest, thinking of what he could use to help them out of this situation, though the odds were not looking good. Meanwhile, Kaz reversed his steps while the others spun around, the Crows forming a circle with their backs to one another, Kaz keeping space between him and Jesper. Allowing them a full view of the square.

They watched the herd of men step into the light. Revealing themselves with menacing eyes filled with vengeance. Kaz tensed, recognizing them as Pekka’s men.

Well the ones still loyal to the King of the Barrel. Several had already pledged their support to Kaz or took the chance to ditch town while they had the opportunity. Yet, here was a group of at least twelve, likely part of Pekka’s inner circle who’ve taken the actions of Kaz more personally. Those who refused to kneel. The young criminal should’ve known better than to expect a sudden shift in power would come easily to him.

“We have no business with you, gentlemen,” Kaz spoke with a level of calm that surprised even him. Deep down he was consumed with nerves seeing he and the Crows were severely outnumbered.

“Oh, but we do,” a gruff voice replied. Kaz’s eyes drifted to the owner, who’s hand mavuevered over his gun. “See, some of us are not too pleased with your little show tonight, Brekker. And we’ll be damned before claiming you as the King of the city.”

Jesper tilts his head slightly, whispering under his breath, “What do we do, boss?” Beside him Wylan was visibly freaking out. Nina raised her hands, ready to counter any attacks while Inej tightened the grip of her knives.

“This is it,” Kaz thought, clutching onto his cane. No ideas surfaced to help them escape. Accepting his time was up. Though he was going to fight for his Crows, the Bastard of the Barrel was ready to come to terms with his fate.

But before anyone could make the first room, a crack of lightning followed by its booming thunder shook the ground. Several flinched, including the crows, some of the Dime Lions stumbling by how close and sudden the element was to them. Rainfall began to pour down the once clear sky. Dark clouds covering the stars and skies.

The rain was thick, drenching everyone from head to toe. Their clothes became heavy. Had it not been for the skewing of their visibility, making them struggle to see where they were, they’d be annoyed by their state. But there were more important things at stake.

The storm made it hard to see. Only getting a glimpse of shapes and figures when flashes of lightning in the near distance hit the earth. Coupled with its thunder. Kaz barely could make out the enemy, bringing his cane up for any sudden attacks.

“What’s happening?” Wylan shouted, gurgling when the water hit mouth. “What do we do?”

“I-I--,” Kaz stuttered, the feeling of nausea swarming him at the cold, wet, rain hitting his face. It brought him back to the worst days of his life. Floating on top of cold, wet, bodies in the harbour, begging the Saints to save him. The man wanted to crawl away and hide. Yet the fear of not knowing what waited for them when the rain stopped kept him from falling to his knees in a panic.

“Hey! You there!” the same man from before shouted, Kaz squinting his eyes to see him raise his gun only to be thrown back by an invisible force of wind. His partner beside him went down next, though what hit him appeared to be a beam of light.

Kinda like a lightning bolt.

“What the hell was that?!” Inej shouted over the thunder.

‘A Squaller?’ Kaz thought to himself, watching another bout of wind sweep his oncoming attacker off their feet. He had not heard of another Grisha roaming the streets of Ketterdam. Surely if a squaller were inhabiting the area he’d know.

Using the butt of his cane Kaz knocked him out unconsious. When he glanced back up, his eyes landed on a cloaked figure standing on the roof of a nearby building. The rain made it impossible to make out their face. But judging by the way they moved their hands, and the fact his enemies were being bombarded by gusts of air, their savior was in fact an Ethereaki.

But what kind exactly?

At first Kaz believed they had to be a Squaller due to the wind. Yet, he then witnessed the rain shift direction, and water from a puddle shoot up to hit a man about to attack Wylan. A Tidemaker would better fit that description, however Kaz wasn’t aware of a Grisha able to control both air and water.

“I don’t know,” Jesper responded, shooting at an assailant he saw racing toward them, “But I’ve never been so happy for a thunderstorm as I am now.” At that moment Kaz realized nobody else noticed the mysterious person on the roof. His attention turned to Jesper beside him, oblivious to the help he was getting from a fellow Grisha. Turning back to the roof, expecting to see the cloaked individual, but they were gone.

As the fight commenced the storm ensued. Thunder overpowering the sound of pelting rain and gunshots. The Crows fought for their lives as the number of Dime Lions against them decreased. Nina managed to incapacitate several as did Jesper and Inej. The fight came to a climatic end with the last one standing was, quite, literally, hit with a lightning bolt causing the Crows to freeze where they stood.

Smoke filled the space, and when it cleared they were met with the mysterious being. Rain pelting down on them, however they seemed to pay no mind. As though it were a natural occurrence. It was still hard to see them. The streetlight candles had been blown out from the rain and wind, and the moon was covered by the clouds. Both those combinations obscured the face of their savior.

Nina raised her hands, ready to defend the group but Kaz motioned for her to stop, causing confusion amongst the rest. Who was this person and what did they want? And why was Kaz not doing anything?

“Well,” their voice, a feminine one at that, breached the once silent square. “That was entertaining if I’m being honest. Been a while since I’ve squabbled with angsty men,” she chucked, “but I was in dire need of practice.” Now hearing the woman speak clearly, they were able to identify her Ravkan accent. For Nina, her heart nearly stopped.

“I know that voice.” she felt the eyes of everyone, including the woman, on her. Hands lowering to her side, Nina's face etched into pure astonishment. Adding more confusion to the group who were at a loss of who this woman was.

“Oh!” The woman chuckled, not commenting on Nina’s words, “Apologies for the storm, let me just--,” they watched in stunned silence as her right hand rose, displaying a motion before the rain slowed and stopped altogether. Then with two fingers, she waved them around causing the clouds above to dissaperate, allowing the moon to shine down.

“Did she just--.” Jesper whispered to Inej, who’s expression resembled that of witnessing a miracle. “Can squallers summon thunderstorms? I thought that was a myth.”

Inej blinked rapidly, voice so low the others barely made out her reply. Tone in absolute awe, “Only one can.”

“One?” Kaz repeated, feeling a wave of unease beneath his skin.

Water from puddles splashed as the woman walked forward, stepping into the ray of light. The Crows, now able to see her fully, were greeted with her (y/h/c) hair and bearing dazzling grey eyes like the storm clouds she’d summoned. She appeared to be slightly older than the group, possibly by a few years. Then again Grisha were known to age slower than regular folk. For all they know she could be in her 50s. Look at the Darkling, who passed as a man in his early 40s to the naked eye but had lived for nearly 400 years.

Adorned in a deep grey kefta, the white and blue embroidery etched on resembled lightning bolts along with tiny drops of rain. It was unlike any kefta the Grisha wore. Those in the Ravka’s Second Army, with the exception of the Darkling, wore certain colored keftas and embroideries to signify their order. But to the knowledge of the Crows, no Grisha wore grey.

“Saints,” Nina gasped, jaw dropping slightly, causing the woman to smirk.

“Now, now,” she playfully tsked, “I’m not above swearing, but considering that applies to me….” her smirk never faltered, “I’m sure you can understand.”

Jesper’s head spun, looking between his comrades to see they were reacting the same way, “I’m sorry, are you saying that you’re--.”

Nina beat him to it, “Sankta Imber of the Drought.” Inej gasped, as did Wylan. The former repeated the name in wonder, falling to her knees in respect, “Sankta Imber….”

Kaz tightened his grip on his cane, mind racing to remember the tale behind the name. Who’s story was passed down from generation to generation for centuries. Who, like the Darkling and the Sun Summoner, was said to be either myth or once lived but suspected of perishing long ago.

Legends say that Sankta Imber of the Drought had been born in the century following the creation of the Fold. A farmer's daughter in the region of East Ravka, her family lived through the period where the country was stricken with a severe drought lasting over a hundred years, beginning not long after the Black Heretic disappeared. With no rain bringing water to the crops came a deadly famine. Hundreds of people and animals were lost, not only due to starvation and dehydration, but also illness. The economy in all of Ravka crumbled. Both States were fighting against each other for resources, as the food supply from East Ravka to West was now scarce. An increase in fires and dust bowls destroyed a lot of ecosystems, further deteriorating the country.

What was left of it that is.

There was little to no hope, with even prayers to the Saints to help them becoming meaningless words. Those still worshiping begged for a savior. The one who would bring the rain and storm. Ending the drought. Releasing them from the famine.

The idea a Squaller could summon a powerful storm was unheard of. Being able to bring forth powerful winds, rain, and possibly lightning and Thunder? Surely a Grisha of sorts would be only known by folklore. Especially given Tidemakers were the ones to control water.

Yet, it all changed one day as the 104th year of the drought approached.

“You’re more powerful than you think, Imber,” Baghra's stern voice echoed in the cave. Sitting opposite of her, with her head down and tear stains painting her cheeks, 15-year-old Imber Egorova made a sound Baghra could only assume was a whimper. “Denying it will do you no good. It will do this country no good.”

“How do you know?” The girl whispered, voice hoarse from crying following another gruesome 12 hour training day. “What makes me different from any other Squaller here?” She referred to the 20 other Squallers residing on the Little Palace grounds. Though some trained with the renowned Gisha teacher, none experienced the level of intensity Imber did.

“No Squaller here has shot someone 80 yards by their power during an exercise,” Baghra rebutted, causing Imber to wince at the memory. The reason why she was suddenly called to Baghra’s cave in the first place. From then on Imber barely got a lick of sleep or time to eat a proper meal.

The older woman gave a pointed look, “nor have they been able to summon electricity.” Ignoring Imbers stunned expression, she continued, “yes, girl, I know what you did when your sister’s heart stopped before you came here. Why your family was so willing to let you go after the testers proved you were Grisha,” Baghra leaned back in her chair, face void of emotion. “Ravka has not seen more than a few inches of rain since this drought began. No storms. And with the famine,” there was a light pause, “It’s claimed more lives than the Fold.”

Imber shuddered at the mention of Ravka’s darkened entity. Not wanting to think about its black abyss swimming with volcra.

“The point is, child,” Baghra captured her attention once more, “Besides the Sun Summoner, you could be the one to end part of Ravka’s suffering. But that will not happen if you cannot believe it yourself.”

Weeks shy of her 16th birthday, Imber received a letter from her father, which would change not only her world, but the one around. After contracting a bacteria from contaminated pond water, her mother and sister succumbed to a deadly illness after only a week. Her father had buried them on their land by the dead oak tree where they used to have picnics before Imber was taken to the Little Palace.

Distraught and riddled with unbearable pain, Imber collapsed to her knees in the middle of the courtyard, crumbling the letter in her hands. Her peers were silent, staring at her with sympathy. Unsure of what to say to the grieving teen, despite many knowing the exact feeling Imber was feeling.

Sorrow, anguish, regret. Never having the chance to correct wrongs or make memories with the loved onces they longed for. The cries of the Grisha filled the otherwise silent courtyard.

Suddenly, a rumble came from the sky..

Imber didn’t hear it over the sound of her sobs. Her companions, however, drew their attention upward, where they were greeted by a sight unimaginable. What once was a clear blue canvas, barely any clouds to begin with, transformed to that of a dark shadow. Wind, so powerful they thought a Squaller was responsible, nearly sent them off their feet.

“What’s happening?” A girl shouted, though they had difficulty hearing her due to the mix of rumbling overhead and breeze of wind.

“I don’t know!” the boy, a Tidemaker, beside her squinted, “Imber!” He lifted a hand to protect his eyes while focusing his view on the kneeled Grisha. A flash of light where her hands were plaed on the ground had him flinching. ‘What in the---.’ The spark occured once more. Chills filled his entire being as his eyes became saucers, falling to a whisper. “Saints above.”

Witnessing the sparks, an Inferni moved closer, ignoring the warning sent by the Tidemaker. “What is she doing?” His answer came by being blasted back by a gust of wind.

Imber let out a broken scream, head tilting back toward the sky as bolts of lightning released from her hands, igniting bouts of thunder in its wake. Gasps and shouts echoed around the Squaller from fellow Grisha and palace guards. The group behind her ran to find cover as the wind became too much, sending barrels and crates flying. Lightning and thunder, the duo reuniting as lost friends.

A sight to behold.

As the tears rolled down Imber’s cheeks, heavy rain soon replaced them. Drenching the lands of East Ravka for the first time in a hundred years.

For hours the girl remained kneeling on the grounds of the courtyard. Alone as everyone had seeked shelter within the Palace walls, letting the water from above coat her. The kefta she bore grew heavy. She paid no mind to it.

It wasn’t until she began to shiver from the freezing atmosphere that Imber retreated inside. Coming face to face with the reality of what transpired. As two guards escorted her to the throne room, Imber barely took notice of her peers watching the storm draw on from the windowsills. Some glanced at her in a mix of wonder, awe, and fear. Fear at the unknown, but wonder at what will be known.

Entering the throne room Imber was greeted by the King, Queen, Baghra, and the General of Ravka’s Second Army. Whereas the country’s monarchs were visibily bewildered at Imber, Baghra appeared impressed in comparison to the General’s excitement. Nerves consumed her on top of the immense grief Imber was experincing. Rain continued pelting the windows and roof of the Little Palace. Every once in a while, the occupants in the room flinched at the crack of thunder.

Upon making eye contact with the King, Imber bowed her head, curtseying as best she could with the weight of her soaked kefta. From there she underwent an hour of intense interrogation at the hands of the King and General. Baghra was questioned as well. Admitting she suspected the scale of Imber’s power but decided to stay quiet until the time came. The General, while pleased to know the world’s most powerful Squaller was among his ranks, voiced concern at the possibility of their enemies discovering her.

“Ravka has been praying for the day storms finally wash over her,” his tone was calm, almost haunting. Imber couldn’t look away as he moved toward her, tear stains painting her cheeks. “To save them from this wretching drought. Bring an end to this famine that has wiped away countless lives. Rain has touched grounds for the first time in over a century, Miss. Egorova. The people of Ravka are going to celebrate you. Erect statues on your name for being the hope they prayed for all these years.” he halted directly in front of her, keeping hold of her gaze it sent another wave of chills not relating to the cold clothes Imber wore.

“You are now the symbol of this dark period coming to its end. You are Sankta Imber of the Drought.”

“The storm lasted a fortnight, dispersing across Ravka’s lands until every inch had been touched by lightning. Yet the rain continued for months on end after the winds disappeared,” Nina recited the story etched into her brain. The crows silent as they took in her words. “Many say it was the raw grief of Imber losing her family that the storms were so strong. The constant rain marked as a symbol of her time in mourning.” The crows familiar with loss could relate. Kaz, Jesper, and Inej looking elsewhere than the Grisha.

Nina let out a breath, “Now whenever a powerful storm appears in Ravka, locals believe it to be Sankta Imber reminding them they will never experience a drought again. Famine will never touch their lands so long as she remains. Rain will be their protector, and she will be its champion.”

At the end of the Heartrender’s tale, Imber clasped her hands behind her back. “Nice to see my reputation still precedes me after all these years.” Chuckling, she took another step toward the group, “Still odd to hear myself spoken like a myth when I still live and breathe the same air as you.”

Again, no words could describe what the Crows were feeling at that moment. No one however was more shocked than Nina herself. And her reasons were far more than just being in the presence of a living Saint. “But you…”

Imber’s smirk turned to a soft smile, “Been some time since our last acquaintance, Nina Zenik.”

All eyes turned to the brunette, Kaz the first to speak, “What?” Not only was his mind racing, but now it was full of questions and doubts. They knew each other? But judging by Nina’s reaction, it was not all that meets the eye. She was stunned beyond belief like they were. “Care to explain, Zenik?”

Tensing by the tone of his voice, Nina sent him a light glare, “I don’t know her as Sankta Imber,” her eyes returned to the Grisha, this time showcasing betrayal as the memory of the woman in a blue kefta like her fellow Squallers appeared in her mind. “But as Commander Y/n Tempestasov of the Second Army.” Everyone felt the shift in the air at the mention of the Darkling’s army.

Why was one of the Darkling’s soldiers, a Saint at that, coming to them in the middle of the night? Traveling across the sea and saving them from Pekka’s men. There had to be a reason.

Kaz tightened the grip he had on his cane. Thinking back to events of the past several months. He would’ve recognized Imber, or Y/n, whatever she wanted to be called--at the Winter’s Fete. The kefta was unique; it would've captured anyone’s attention. As a powerful Squaller, Kirigan surely wanted her close to his side. Yet the Grisha had not been present on the skiff nor did Alina mention anything of meeting another living Saint.

Then there was the fact that the legends of Sankta Imber of the Drought were from nearly 300 years ago. It was believed she had died or dissapeared roughtly 20 years after she brought the storm to Ravka.

Meaning she’s been hiding in plain sight for centuries. A ghost among the living. Playing the role of a Second Army soldier under a false name to preserve her identity.

Another chuckle brought Kaz out of his thoughts, “Allow me to fill in the blanks, Crows,” Imber smirked at their reaction, “yes I know who you are. Do not doubt Nina’s loyalty--the last time we saw each other I was a different person. Roughly eight years if I’m correct,” bringing a hand to her chin, the Saint acted like she was deep in thought, “You’d only just arrived at the Little Palace before I escaped.”

“Escaped?”

Imber retained her posture, more serious than the initial laid back she had presented, “You’ve witnessed the evil General Kirigan is capabale of first hand.” they stayed silent, but each of their expressions faltered. “I discovered the scale of it a long time ago, after he made me a prisoner of the Little Palace under the guise of a trainer.” Nina bowed her head, the memory of Commander Y/n paroling the grounds where the Etherealki trained. She always appeared detached, but was kind to the young Grisha who had not yet succumbed to the corruption of the Darkling. “He was responsible for everyone believing I had died or dissapeared. After instilling fear in me at the thought of being captured by enemies, he had me locked in the caves of the Little Palace.” Inej let out a gasp, face consorting with sadness.

Imber shrugged, “sooner or later people stopped searching for me. Unaware I was close the entire time despire my storms becoming a blanket over Ravka for years. I was all but the myth you’ve heard.” Turning her head to Nina, Imber offered a soft smile, “It was years before he let me out. When he did I was named Commander under a false name and trained Grisha for centuries. Changing my name each time he did because someone asked too many questions and we had to clean up his mess. Y/n Tempestasov is the recent name of the many I’ve gone by. Frankly it’s my favorite if I’m being honest.”

“Would you prefer it if we called you that?” Wylan raised his hand, resulting in a side eye from Kaz at his formality. The Saint, however, smiled at him, “I’d like that. Imber Egorova…” she trailed off, connecting her gaze with Kaz as though she read him like a book. “She is of the past.”

Ignoring the weight on his chest, knowing damn well what the Saint was refering to, Kaz changed the subject. “Enough sentiment. You still haven’t said why you’re here.” The sound of his cane echoed on the pavement when he moved closer to her. “The Darkling might be dead but how are we to trust you’re not doing his bidding.”

The woman scoffed, obviously offended by the assumption, “Believe me, I hate the man more than anyone. Probably more than you and Alina combined.”

Jesper made a face of shock, voicing what they all thought, “You know Alina?”

“She sent me,” Y/n mused, shocking them more when she added, “And Kirigan is alive.”

“How is that possible?” Inej wondered aloud, unable to grasp the news.

“Turns out his own creation did not kill him after all. Instead he used merzost to create shadow monsters. Monsters that can only be destroyed with a certain blade that, like me, is also a legend.”

“Neshyenyer,” Kaz narrowed his eyes, waiting for her to call bluff. Y/n smirked in response.

“That is where you come in. We have some mutual friends, and they sent me to retrieve you lot to find the sword. Said you were the best of the best.” Hand going into her pocket, she removes a rolled parchment tied with a ribbon. “For your cooperation, the King of Ravka plans to generously compensate you.” She held it out to Kaz, “For you, Dirtyhands.”

He ignored the name, deciding not to question the depth of her knowledge on him and the Crows, and instead took the parchment. Once unfolded, he read the message inked onto its surface, detailing the extent of the mission and amount of kruge to be paid. He stopped at the name signed at the very end, ‘Nikolai Lantsov.’

‘Mutual friends,’ he remembered she said. Intuition telling him it was not only Alina and Mal the Saint referred to. Only person Kaz recalled that could likely be said aquaintance was a certain privateer.

Footsteps wandering away had the man look up, finding Y/n to take her leave. Kaz and Jesper flanked to his sides, the whole group watching her depart. “Come along, Crows,” she called out, the playfulness returning. “A storm is approaching.” light rain began to fall once more, followed by the sound of thunder in the distance. Kaz pictured the smile on her face by the tone of her voice. “And we’ve got work to do.”

[albywritesfiction]

Wow I'm loving the premise of this IF 👏, and I saw in a previous ask that you took some inspiration from Remarried Empress 🥰, which I'm also a huge fan of 😍, so I have quite a few questions 😅😁

1. So does this mean we can also end up having our EX begging, pleading, pining and fighting for us at some point in the story like Sovieshit? Because I'd love to rub my new romance in their face 😈, especially when MC is looking even better at a ball or something when we make an entrance or dance 💃🕺

2. And how capable and popular is MC with the nobility and the public, I understand we won't be as popular as Helene *coughs* trashta *coughs* 🤢🤮 with regards to the public, but I hope we can still be a capable and well liked figure and in not just our own territory📚👸?

3. If we choose to go home does it block us from romance with the 2nd Prince? and vice versa with the best friend 🤔

4. and will the two paths converge at some point, because I wouldn't mind having a choice at any point through a path to travel back and forth between home and the capital 🤭

5. I dont know if its been asked but what about MCs parents or siblings or family, do we have any and how's their relationship with MC ☺

Sorry its quite a few asks 😅 but I'm too invested, good luck with your work and wishing you the best

Hello wayflame!

This was a fun ask! Answers under the cut 😊

Hmm you’ll just have to wait and see! Would be pretty satisfying though for him to come crawling back only to be slapped in the face by your new relationship with his brother… *cue innocent whistling*

This is also kinda within spoiler territory 😅 I can tell you though that just because Helene’s more popular with the people doesn’t mean that they’ve forgotten about MC’s accomplishments. They still acknowledge that MC is a very capable individual and treat MC with respect (and not just because they’re the heir of House Argentius), it’s just that a lot of them are a little too into real-life fairytales 😅

Yes. Ædric is needed at the capital while Cyfrin is needed at the duchy, so you won’t be able to spend enough time with Ædric if you go home or with Cyfrin if you stay.

Unfortunately, no. You’ll be pretty busy wherever you choose to go, so you won’t have time to travel back and forth within the story 😅

MC is an only child and their mother died when they were pretty young, but their father has never been shy in letting them know just how much he loves them. He’s a good balance between “I’ll dote on my child by getting them everything they want! Oh, you want to have the neighboring empire, my dear? Hold on, Daddy’s going to go on a little war conquest 🥰,” and “No. You can’t have anything if you’re not 100% perfect. How else are you going to take that empire you want so badly with your own hands? 100 laps around the duchy, now!”

I’m glad you like the premise! I don’t mind how many questions you had, as long as you don’t mind that it took a while for me to answer them 😅 Thank you for the well wishes!

[scoonsalicious]

Reminder: I am on a posting break for new content until May 23rd so that I can focus on writing WFLT...

Today, I have something special for you for the final day of my break, lol. This is the first written chapter of a fic I started writing last year called The End of His Line. It's a Bucky x OFC that made it to about 70k words before I abandoned it for Unwanted. Maybe I'll revisit it someday. It's entirely self-indulgent, not edited very much, and takes place after TFATWS. The premise is that Bucky's been having some trouble since the events of the series, particularly hearing voices. Sam's suggested they contact a friend of his, someone known as The Archivist, who might be able to get them access to Hydra's records on the Winter Soldier program in an attempt to figure out what's going on with him.

Totally self-indulgent and NOT an author-insert, because her name is Sarah and my name is Sara, and they are two, totally different names! Yeah, okay, we both may have auburn hair, but both those elements are important to the story! Plus, our eyes are totally different colors! ;)

Enjoy!

Bucky sat at a table in a dimly lit diner in Midtown, just a few blocks south of Grand Central Station, where Sam had arranged for the two of them to meet this mysterious ‘Archivist’ of his.

Bucky pressed his back against the cold brick wall, feeling more alone than ever. The bustling city streets were a world away from him now, and it was as if he was completely invisible to the waves of people that walked by him. He peered out at them through the window, feeling every bit of his one-hundred-nine years old while all around him remained oblivious.

He glanced at his watch. He was early, having been far too anxious for answers to sit still in his barren apartment, just waiting. And frankly, he didn’t want to be alone. Loneliness visited him a lot more frequently now that Sam set up permanent residence back in Delacroix. Bucky was always welcome to visit, and he did, but after too long, the sight of Sam, surrounded by family and community, always seemed to weigh too heavily on Bucky’s chest, and he’d be reminded of how much he missed Steve’s presence in his life. 

A part of Bucky resented Steve’s choice to leave him alone in this foreign world, when Steve had been his only lifeline. Then Bucky would remember everything Steve had sacrificed to bring him back from the darkness, and Bucky would feel ashamed. How could he begrudge his best friend the chance to live the life that had been stolen from him?

Your life was stolen, too, the quiet voice whispered from the darkest corner of his mind. It’s not as though Steve had to go alone. He could have taken you with him. So much for the end of the line.

Bucky slapped his metal fist on the table in an attempt to force the voice back into submission. Instead, the napkin holder on the table shook with the reverberation, causing an older couple a few tables over to look up in alarm. He really needed to stop spending so much time alone. 

The sun had risen over the zenith of the avenues, the heat of its rays amplified through the diner windows and making Bucky uncomfortably hot in his leather jacket. He shrugged it off and tossed it over the back of his vinyl chair as the bell above the diner door cheerfully rang. Sam approached the table and took a seat next to him, placing a large round bag next to his chair.

“You brought the shield?” Bucky asked, puzzled. “I thought this was a friend of yours. Are we expecting trouble?” Sam fiddled with the zipper of the bag, opening it and arranging the flap just so, so that the unmistakable red and blue could be seen without being too obvious. 

“Nah, no trouble. Just…” Sam sat up and Bucky noticed his clothes were a bit… fancier than normal. “Doesn’t hurt to remind people it’s there, is all.”

Understanding dawned on Bucky. “You’re either trying to intimidate the shit out of this Archivist, or,” he smiled ruefully at his friend, “you’re trying like hell to impress ‘em.”

Sam laughed good naturedly. “I figure it can’t hurt to try a little bit of both. We’re going for a pretty big ask, after all.” He was right. They were asking for all known (and hopefully, any heretofore unknown) records related to the super-soldier serum that created both Bucky and Steve, and the Winter Soldier program that had turned Bucky into a mindless killer. It was a tall order and, depending on where those records might be and who might hold them, a potentially dangerous one. Sam swore, on his family’s boat, no less, that if there were any records out there to be found, The Archivist was the one to find them. Bucky had no problem placing his trust in Sam, but he was wary of involving any stranger, especially when it concerned the most vulnerable parts of himself.

A waitress approached their table, jeans suffocatingly tight and her top cropped entirely too high. She smiled at them both. “What can I get for you two handso—” Her eyes widened at the sight of the shield. “Oh. My. God.” She squealed at Sam. “You’re Captain America!”

Great. Here we go, thought Bucky, as the waitress began to gush and fawn all over Sam. His friend, of course, ate it up. If there was one thing Sam loved more than being recognized as the new Captain America, it was being recognized as the new Captain America by attractive women. She kept twirling a strand of shockingly pink hair with one hand and casually stroking Sam’s shoulder with the other. 

God, but these modern girls are forward. He was thankful her attention wasn’t directed at him, because Bucky never knew how to respond to brazen flirting girls were empowered with today, and his first instinct was always to run away. It was so much easier Before. The guy would take charge, make all the moves. He’d know where he stood from the jump. You’d ask a girl out, buy her flowers, take her dancing. There was beauty in the structure, in the process. But now? The whole thing seemed to be a damned free-for-all, where everything that came out of a woman’s mouth could be mistaken for a sexual invitation. It was unnerving.

Or maybe it’s been so long since any woman’s actually touched that you think everything they say and do is a come on. A voice. Not the dark one that whispered his greatest fears to him, but still, not his own, either.

“I’m ready to order!” Bucky cut in, loud and awkward, out of nowhere, to drown out the voice. Sam and the waitress startled out of their flirting.

“Yeah, of course,” said the waitress, giving him a cautious look. “What can I get for you?” 

Bucky stumbled, realizing he honestly had no idea– he hadn’t even seriously considered the menu. Well, great. “Uh… I…”

“Why don’t you just get us a couple of coffees for now, sweetheart?” Sam asked with a blinding smile, diverting the waitress’  attention away from Bucky and back on to him. “We’re still waiting on one more.” The waitress beamed back at him.

“Sure thing, Cap.” She gently brushed a hand across Sam’s shoulder before turning and walking back toward the kitchen.

Bucky’s eyes involuntarily rolled in his head. “You just can’t help yourself, can you, Cap?” he asked, grinning.

“Nah, nah– we’re not gonna sit and pretend you’re feeling all normal. What was that about?” Shit. The worst thing about becoming so close with Sam was that it was becoming next to impossible to hide things from him. This new Captain America was beginning to know him almost as well as the last. Almost, said a voice. But you’re keeping this from him. Some friend you are. Okay, that voice might have been Bucky’s.

He was spared from uttering a response by the tinkling of a bell, heralding the arrival of a woman through the diner's entrance. Bucky glanced up to catch her figure silhouetted against the afternoon sun, holding in one hand a massive frozen beverage. His breath hitched as she paused to inspect her phone, her teeth nibbling her lower lip in concentration. He had never met this woman before his long, long life, yet there was something so overwhelmingly familiar about her that it provoked an indescribable feeling of nostalgia within Bucky, as if he had been lost and suddenly found home.

As if in a trance, Bucky felt his eyes drawn to her clothes. The dress seemed like it had been taken from the same shops he'd visited with his sister before he enlisted. And it fit her perfectly - a sage green tea dress snugly clung to her curves and hugged all the right places, high-waisted with capped sleeves, a v-neck collar, and hidden pleats creating a skirt that cut off just below her knees. Below, cream kitten heels made her calves look defined and graceful. She looked as though she had stepped out of time and into this room, embracing him with an aura of beauty and history that was both familiar and captivating – so stunning it made Bucky’s breath catch in his throat.

His gawking was quickly halted by the raspy sound of a chair grating across the Formica floor. Sam leapt to his feet and yelled out “Hey, gorgeous! Right here!” Bucky felt a wave of embarrassment wash over him in addition to the shock he felt at his friend’s behavior. It didn't surprise him that he would act like a flirt; however, it was immensely inappropriate for him to catcall an unsuspecting woman like that.

But when the woman looked up at the sound of Sam’s voice, a wide smile broke out across her face and she headed toward their table. Her auburn hair bounced with each step, and Bucky was taken in by the way the late summer light through the window brought out streaks of warm copper in her flowing waves. He blinked. Did he seriously just think that? Yes, he couldn’t blame that thought on anyone but himself. Those clothes were messing with him.

You fucking idiot, he scolded himself. Get your shit together!

When she reached their table, she opened her arms wide and enveloped Sam in an embrace. Bucky watched as the two exchanged a hug, not really understanding why he was feeling so strangely… jealous, maybe? He’d known that they were close – after all, Sam had specifically requested her help in this endeavor – but he hadn’t expected his body to respond so aggressively to her presence.

The woman let go of Sam and held him at arms’ length, studying him. 

“You look good, Sammy. How’ve you been?”

Bucky cocked his head and mouthed “Sammy?” His friend either didn’t see or chose to ignore him.

“Can’t complain–  being Captain America and all that ain’t too bad,” Sam said with a flirtatious smirk.

And here we go again, thought Bucky, with more than his usual trace of annoyance. Where was this anger coming from?

The woman threw her head back and laughed, the sound of it like water tumbling over rocks. “I’m sure that line plays really well with the ladies, but you forget I’m immune. Captain America is, quite possibly, the least sexy thing I can imagine.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Sam said with a good natured shrug and grin. “I keep forgetting you’re about the only girl on the planet who’s got her Avengers inoculations. Can’t blame a guy for trying his luck, though.”

She put a finger to her cheek in mock contemplation. “Come to think of it, I don’t believe I’m up-to-date on my Thor-vaccinations, actually,” she shot back with a grin of her own. “But I’m willing to risk it if exposure were to ever occur…”

“And that is why I will never introduce you to him,” Sam joked.

“And here I thought that was because he has no idea you exist.”

Sam grabbed his heart in mock pain. “Oof, you know where to hurt me, woman!”

Their banter was natural, effortless. Bucky wondered what it was like to be able to talk to someone, especially someone of the opposite sex, with such ease.

They’re friends, said the voice. He’s not tongue-tied because, unlike some people, he’s not imaging what it would be like to fu–

Bucky shot up from his chair and held out his hand. “Hi.”

“Shit, sorry. My manners. Bucky, this is Agent–”

“I’m retired, Sammy,” she interrupted as she took Bucky’s hand and shook it. “Sarah’s fine, for polite conversation. And you’re Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes.” The way she said his name rode down Bucky’s spine like an electric current. 

"Bucky's fine, for polite conversation," he managed to shoot back, smugly pleased with himself when he noticed one corner of her mouth ticked up into a ghost of a half smile.

“It’s so good to finally meet you, Bucky. I’ve heard so many stories about you, I feel like I already know you” she said, letting go of Bucky’s hand and nodding to their chairs. “Shall we?” The three sat down, Bucky shoving his hand under the table. He stretched out his fingers, focusing on the sensation of where their skin had touched. It was warm and strangely comforting, the way a forgotten song might linger in one’s memory. She’d heard things? About him? From who, Sam? God, what? None of it could have been good.

Their waitress returned then with their coffees, and if she thought she’d have the opportunity to resume her flirtations with Sam, she was sorely disappointed. 

“What can I get you?” she asked Sarah, rather brusquely, Bucky thought. It was as if she resented their companion’s presence as competition for Sam’s attention.

“Nothing; thanks,” Sarah said, and if she noticed the waitresses hostility, she gave no sign. “I can’t stay long.” Bucky wasn’t sure what he had expected from this meeting, but the idea that it would be over quickly was suddenly a disappointment. He watched her as she took a long sip from a straw plunged into a pile of whipped cream in her cup. He noticed her eyes were incredibly blue.

"Did you want some?" she asked, holding out her cup to him. Bucky realized she had mistaken his scrutiny of her to be an interest in her drink.

"Nah, man," said Sam. "You'd better not. Your old geezer system isn't used to handling that amount of sugar. You’ll get diabetes."

He was probably right– everything these days was so full of sugar that Bucky didn’t know how people could stand it– but he was emboldened by the offer, and didn’t enjoy the idea of her equating him with an “old geezer,” so he shot Sam an arched look and accepted the cup from her. He licked his lips as he drew the straw to him; there was something incredibly intimate about putting his mouth where hers had just been a moment before. He gave a hard pull.

And instantly gagged. The intense sweetness of it cloyed at his mouth and he took a swallow from his own cup of bitter, black coffee to cleanse the taste. Sam erupted in laughter, finding the entire thing hilarious.

"Gah!--" Bucky thrust the beverage back at her, "What even is that?”  As she took back the cup, Bucky flinched self consciously, realizing he had just returned the drink with his metal arm. He was relieved to see that she didn’t seem to notice, or at the very least chose not to acknowledge it at all.

"It’s a Pumpkin Spice Frozen Coffee. And maybe that makes me a Basic Bitch,” she cut off Sam, who was obviously on the verge of making some comment to that effect, “then so be it, because it’s fucking delicious.” She made 'fucking' sound both incredibly innocent and yet highly suggestive at the same time, and suddenly Bucky couldn't help but notice the slight inward cave of her cheeks as she sucked at the straw… He shifted uncomfortably in his seat. Why was it so warm in here all of a sudden? 

"Well, now you got him all hot and bothered, Sarah." Sam casually draped his arm around Bucky's shoulders, and Bucky was mortified – was he so completely transparent? What was he even doing, thinking like that?

"Our guy here isn't used to ladies talking with the mouths of sailors."

Bucky let out a slow breath in relief. Yes, his discomfort was obviously over the profanity coming out of her mouth, and definitely not the intrusive thought of something else entirely going into it.

Sarah just shrugged. "Yeah, my Pops is a fogey about language, too." Bucky winced at being compared to her grandfather, but she gave him a playful wink and Bucky felt something low in his stomach turn over. But the comment seemed to shift something in her and her demeanor turned serious. "So, boys, to business, then? I'm afraid I'm in a bit of a time crunch." She pulled out a notebook, pen at the ready.

“We’re trying to locate some documents,” Sam began.

She rolled her eyes playfully. “No shit. I don’t expect you to call me when you’re looking to run guns, Sammy.”

Bucky blanched. “Is… that a thing you do?” 

Sarah shrugged a single shoulder. “Not so much anymore.” She was joking, clearly. He was sixty percent sure she was joking. Turning back to Sam, she asked: “Any reason why you can’t hop onto the library’s online catalog and start your search there, or do you need me to explain Boolean Operators to you again?”

Bucky had absolutely no idea what Boolean Operators were, but he didn’t think he’d mind having her explain them to him at all.

“Oh god, no, please,” said Sam, taking a sip of his own coffee. “Besides, I don’t think the New York Public Library’s going to have access to the kind of databases we’re after.”

Sarah groaned in frustration and closed her notebook. “I’m retired Sammy. You know what that means, right? I. don’t. work. there. anymore. Besides, Romanoff uploaded everything they had back in ‘14; whatever you’re looking for should be all over the public domain by now.” She said Natasha’s name with a trace of disdain that didn’t go unnoticed by either Bucky or Sam.

“Hey,” Sam began defensively, “she was just doing what she had to expo–”

“She exposed a lot of covers and it got a lot of good people killed, Sam,” Sarah spat back with an anger Bucky hadn’t anticipated. “There were better ways to handle it. Smarter ways.”

“Nobody thought–” Sam tried again.

“No, that’s the problem, isn’t it? None of you ever think. Avengers just do, right? And leave everyone else to clean up their fucking mess?” They were losing ground here, and quickly.

“Sarah, please,” Sam practically begged her. “You and I both know that what Natasha released was only the tip of the iceberg when it comes to what S.H.I.E.L.D.’s actually got. What Stark had.”

“Well, someone’s been running his goddamn mouth,” she muttered angrily. “I can’t imagine he was lucid when he told you that.” 

Stark? Tony? That couldn’t be the he they were referring to– Tony’d been dead for two years. Hard to be running your mouth in that case. Sam seemed to know exactly who she meant, though.

“Not exactly, no,” he told her. “But it’s not like I went fishing for it, Sarah. He just let it slip, and that you’ve still got the clearance, if you want it; you just need the access. You know they’d piss themselves with delight if you walked your ass back in the door, and not a single person’s going to bat an eye if you just so happen to browse through the Archives when you did.”

“You think that ‘access’ is just going to come for free, Sam?” she asked. “There’ll be strings attached. There always are.” She stood up and shoved her notebook haphazardly into her bag. “I’m sorry, but the answer is no. I won’t do it.”

Sam stood up and reached out to stop her, grabbing her arm.

“Sarah, please. Don’t do it for me, or even Bucky.” Sarah glanced in his direction, but Bucky couldn’t meet her stare. “Do it for him,” Sam practically begged. “You know how much it would mean to your—” Sarah looked at his hand on her arm and forcefully tore herself from his grip before Sam could finish his sentence.

“That’s a fucking low blow, Wilson. Especially now.” And she turned her back to them both and walked out the door, leaving the bell clanging in her wake.

“Shit. Shit!” Sam slunk back into his chair, defeated. “I figured she wouldn’t like it, but I didn’t think she’d go full ‘Wilson’ on me. Maybe hit ‘Samuel.’ I at least thought she’d hear us out, let me persuade her.”

“Should we follow her?” Bucky asked. “Try to change her mind?”

“No. We try that right now and she’s likely to shoot us.” Bucky raised an eyebrow.

“Literally, man. Nah, she’s gotta cool off. We gotta re-approach from another angle, but the hell if I know what that’s going to be.” He sighed and ran a hand over his head. “I’m sorry, man. I pushed too hard, too fast. I should have eased into her.” Bucky deliberately shoved Sam’s phrasing out of his mind.

“What’s her story, Sam?” It was more than professional courtesy that led Bucky to ask. He found himself thirsty for any drop of knowledge about her Sam could give.

“Sarah Grant,” Sam said with a sigh. “She’s ex-S.H.I.E.L.D., was with them until the whole HYDRA fiasco thing,” he shot Bucky a look, as if to imply it was his HYDRA fiasco “thing.” Bucky scowled at him. “She transferred to the C.I.A. after S.H.I.E.L.D disbanded, but watercooler gossip has it she was running side missions for Fury while he worked on rebuilding. She’s never confirmed it for me, though. She was on assignment oversees when the Snap happened, and by the time she got un-dusted and made it back stateside, she decided to hang it all up and become a librarian, of all fucking things.” Sam’s tone belied his absolute disbelief that someone would transition from Special Agent to Librarian, and while Bucky did find it strange, he was also intrigued. What would cause a person to make such a drastic life change?

“So, if she’s retired, what makes you think she can just walk back in and get us what we need?” he asked.

“Man, if S.H.I.E.L.D. had royalty, she’d be their damn princess.” Sam took in Bucky’s confused expression and elaborated further: “Her family’s been top brass at S.H.I.E.L.D. from the beginning. She was practically raised with the expectation to run that place. Hell, she’s probably got tiny little S.H.I.E.L.D.s running through her blood. It’s in her DNA.”

“She didn’t seem very thrilled at the idea of a homecoming,” Bucky reminded him. “Why give it up?”

“Yeah, well… Things changed; S.H.I.E.L.D.’s not S.H.I.E.L.D. anymore, is it? At least not the S.H.I.E.L.D. she grew up believing in; it’s got to bother her. She gave her whole life to that damn organization and had to watch it eat itself from the inside out, like a cancer.” He looked down at the shield, still lying in its case at their feet, and Bucky knew they were both thinking of the day they watched John Walker use it to bludgeon a Flag-Smasher to death.

“It was a symbol for her, of what could be possible if good people kept doing the right thing. Somewhere along the line, that stopped meaning something.” Bucky understood her reluctance to help them, then. If it meant returning to an organization that had betrayed her, why would she do that for him, someone she didn’t even know? He couldn’t fault her for that.

“We’ll figure something else out,” he told his friend. “It was a solid lead, though, and I appreciate you trying.” Then, because he couldn’t stop himself from asking, “So, how do you know her, anyway?”

Sam stared down at his feet, as though something incredibly interesting was going on with his shoes. “Oh, yeah… Um… Her Pops was a veteran I used to council, back in the day. We met through him.” Bucky could tell when Sam was being deliberately cagey, and while he didn’t really want to ask, he had to know…

“You two ever… ?” he gestured vaguely.

Sam barked out a laugh. “Oh, God, no! Her Pops would literally beat my ass! He’s old, but he’s still got an arm on him. Uh uh, she’s on the no-fly list, man. Damn shame, though,” he added, fondly. “Girl can fill out a skirt.”

“Sam.”

“What? A man can appreciate.” Sam grinned.

Bucky rolled his eyes as he grabbed the shield case. “Let’s get outta here.”

They stepped out of the diner and out into the early afternoon light, the sun casting a warm glow on the city around them. Bucky looked back as they walked away, though, he couldn’t help but think of the intriguing woman who had just stormed out of the restaurant and wondered if they’d ever find a way to get her to help them.

The voice in his head was telling him he hadn’t seen the last of Sarah Grant.

[princess-of-the-corner]

QuirkswapSoulmates- maybe the Todoroki's hire in home help for Rei? Like, once she's hit the point that the docs are, like "we think it’s better for her to be with her soulmate & kids, Enji gets someone to come in & help Rei out? So if she's having a "delicate" day, there's still someone to do chores, or make dinner, so we don’t end up with the kids as Mom's caretakers. Maybe even someone to help with any meds or things she might need?

Okay so I think what I'm debating on is like. How bad Rei's mental health gets?

Because like.

Rei was always going to have problems, but her problems got exacerbated by Enji's mental health issues and the constant fighting in the house and the whole 'making a fire/ice child' and the thing with Toya's Quirk fucking up but like.

Thanks to the premise of the Quirk Swap, Enji's issues are a bit diffused because he already has access to Fire and Ice through that, so he's never thinking about the idea of making a kid with both and doesn't have as much fear with Toya being a Hero that he'd make the kid stop so much as he does a 'if you're going to commit to being a Hero then I'm going all-in on making sure you don't fucking die' which does cause problems in pushing the kids too hard but it's nearly as much of it feeling out of their hands and there's no fighting with Toya over it.

Anyway! There's plenty of issues but that one isn't quite there which doesn't make things worse.

And like. I want to make things better but given the history I've written for Enji I can't imagine him not accidentally parentifying the kids? Like it's just one of those things that he kinda accepted as normal from his own childhood. So I don't think he'd really click on to anything wrong about the older kids helping out unless it gets incredibly detrimental. And with Rei not getting as bad, she wouldn't need as much help just kind of a 'hey mom's real tired make sure the baby doesn't set the house on fire and fend for yourselves re: making food until dad gets home from work' on occasion but Rei's still handling the bigger things of parenting.

So I'm thinking that like

Rei's mental health declines, but it's not nearly as bad or as fast. It still becomes noticeable and they do get her some help. And her issues are mostly managed through therapy and medication. Esepcially with the mindset of 'being around your Soulmate will help your mental health stay more stable'.

That said I did also have an idea for a side-thing with the blocking medication. Because one of the things causing Rei distress is the lack of Hikari. Enji is also feeling this too ofc. And ironically a potential way noted to help with the loss of a Soulmate is the blocking medication. Because it blocks out being able to feel where the Bond /should/ be so they're not constantly missing the lost Soulmate.

So they would try this to see if it helps them but.... the blocking medication is often used on either people who lost a Soulmate, or people who are trying to get away from their Soulmate. Two people who are Soulmates and constantly in positive contact using the blocking medication is..... a bad time. I think this is the thing that would wind up with Shoto's scar which has them get off the medication. There may be a short hospital stay but not the major one because once the meds are out of their system she'd be fine but also time for more therapy.

There'd also be a hospital stay after Toya's 'death' but because it's just a very bad dip and not a full relapse after years of work, she's not still there.

[steviesbicrisis]

Stranger Things x MHA

First off, let me say I was so happy to find many people who both love stranger things and MHA, your taste is impeccable. A minor premise for people who don't know MHA but want to understand this: MHA is a tv show where most people are born with quirks and being a Hero is considered the best status. Some people use their quirks for evil purposes and are called Villains. In order to become a Hero, you have to go to a Hero school, study and get licensed.

Students profiles:

Steve Harrington School class: 3A (Department of Heroes) Quirk: Shiny Hair. Anyone who looks at his hair gets charmed by him. He needs to take good care of his hair because the more his hair is in excellent condition, the stronger his power is. The effects aren't long-term, but enough to distract the enemy and kick their asses. When his hair is at its best, he can make people fall in love with him. Weaknesses: if his hair gets dirty, the charm can turn into disgust. His quirk is also ineffective if people don’t look at his hair. Hero costume: is equipped with a hood that protects his hair and small compartments where he stores essential hair products. He also has throwable mirrors to reflect his image from different angles in case the enemy tries to avoid his quirk.

Eddie Munson School class: 3C -> 3A (From General department to Hero department) Quirk: Storytelling. He’s able to turn everything he reads out loud into something tangible. He could potentially control people with the proper training, but he limits himself to writing about weapons/gadgets and refuses to explore his powers more. He doesn't need to be heard by someone to make his quirk work. Weaknesses: his quirk is more effective if the words are handwritten and especially by himself. If he isn’t precise enough with descriptions, his quirk produces blobs of ink. He can only write one page at a time before needing some time to recharge. Hero costume: is very dramatic and theatrical but he only needs the notebook and pens latched to his belt. He wears gloves and a face mask to protect his hands and his voice.

Nancy Wheeler Class: 2A (Heroes) Quirk: Sniping. Everything she throws always lands where she wants it to, she has to stare at the target she wants to hit until she hits it. Weaknesses: her quirk is effective only if she can keep eye contact with the target, even blinking once makes her throws/hits ineffective. She has to see clearly her target, and the more she uses her quirk the less precise she gets. Hero costume: she wears glasses that protect her eyes and help her see long-distance targets. She carries different types of weapons, her favorite being guns.

Robin Buckley Class: 2C-> 2B (from General to Hero) Quirk: Chitchat. If she talks for a long time, the enemies get in a temporary state of confusion. Depending on the tone that she uses, she can hit different senses of the opponent: obscuring the view, blocking the hearing etc. Her quirk is based on how many words she can pronounce, to get better she had to learn to speak fast to get to the right amount of words in the shortest time possible. Weaknesses: long pauses between words make her quirk ineffective. Once she starts, she has to make sure to not be interrupted. The opponent has to listen to her and understand what she’s saying: if the enemy plugs their ears or speaks another language, her power is ineffective. She decides to learn as many languages as she can for this reason. Hero costume: much like Eddie, she has to protect her voice so she wears a face mask as well, with an incorporated megaphone to make her voice audible also from a long distance. She also carries earplugs to give to her allies to protect them from her quirk.

Jonathan Byers Class: 2B (Heroes) Quirk: photo-portals. He can use photos as portals to teleport. It's effective only if the places captured in the pictures are recognizable. The pictures have to be printed and he needs to touch them to use his quirk. Weaknesses: if the pictures are blurry, his quirk might be ineffective and he could get stuck in between places (he carries a couple of pictures of his home just in case, to get unstuck). Hero costume: is pretty anonymous. He prefers comfy clothes, he's equipped with a camera, a few different lenses and a photo album with essentials he might need (photo of the police department, his house, the school etc.)

Argyle Class: 2A (Heroes) Quirk: green thumb. His thumbs and big toes are green and when they get in contact with soil, he's able to grow plants within seconds. He can grow any sort of plant as long as he knows everything about them. Weaknesses: he needs the right type of soil to make the plants grow and the right thickness for the roots. He can grow a certain amount of plants then he needs to recharge by eating food. He swears that Pizza is the most effective but there are no scientific studies to back up his claims. Hero costume: he carries a bag full of soil on his back and has big pockets where he stores plant guides, pizza slices and other plant care items.

Teachers Profiles:

Joyce Byers Homeroom teacher of: Class 2A Quirk: seeking. Using different types of clues, she's able to find anyone. She can see colored tracks invisible to anyone else's eye that she activates by being in contact with personal objects of whoever she has to find. Weaknesses: her quirk is most effective if the objects she uses have sentimental value. If there's no sentimental value, her quirk is ineffective. Hero's costume: she doesn't need much for her quirk to be able to work. She wears glasses to protect her vision and keeps her hands free to be ready to touch objects when needed.

Jim Hopper Homeroom teacher of: Class 3A Quirk: endurance. He's able to bear huge amounts of pain, channel them and use them against his opponents. Having to deal and handle pain all his life, has affected his character, making him closed off to most people. Weaknesses: despite being able to endure a lot, he isn't invincible. Too much pain all at once could have permanent effects on his mental and physical well-being. Hero costume: he's equipped with an instrument that detects the levels of pain he's storing and alerts him when he's close to his limit.

Murray Bauman Homeroom teacher of: Class 2B Quirk: truth-telling. He's able to detect lies and, if he talks enough with his listener, he can get to the truth without being explicitly told what it is. He uses his quirk to make/brake up couples. Students call it "getting murrayed". Weaknesses: his quirk becomes imprecise if he isn't able to talk with the person involved but has to listen to recordings, calls etc. although detecting the lie is easy for him, finding the truth requires more time and a bit of intuition, so his words can't be trusted all the time.

I'd love to add more but I'm afraid this post is long already. I'm curious to know what everyone thinks!! I have a Steddie dynamic in mind (obviously) but it didn't fit with everything else here. I didn't include the party because they would get to school once everyone else graduates. I'm tagging people who showed interest into this crossover in my other post, I hope I'm not bothering you by tagging you here (if I am, please forgive me): @isapolvorita @legitcookie @flxurishing @ledleaf @symbioticsimplicity @stringischeese @likezoinxman @amoris-no-smut @gendersnatcher

[candiid-caniine]

I wish I was you like, I want to be a denied edgetoy that has no chance to ever ever cum and is below everything and is just a thing, you have the greatest life T-T being able to be used by so many people and never escaping the humiliation of everyone knowing what you are,,, fuck,,, goals

Like it's been a while since I last came and I'm so horny but also everyone around me still sees me as a person, I want to be a nothing just like you 😵‍💫

aww honey 💕 first of all I gotta love the backhanded compliment "I want to be a nothing just like you," like believe me when I say that's hella validating lmao

second of all...I have to say, wanting it is usually a first sign that you're becoming it, in my experience hahaha. let's put it this way: live ur dreams. they may evolve, you may find you want to be a weekend toy at a kink club, or a pet owned by one person or shared, or someone like me with an irl owner and a side blog to slut it up! I was very shy at first and tbh I still am,, I think that tends to just make me more fun to play with, but the point is if you decide to start a blog or pursue your dream in other ways, you are worthy.

yea that's right I get self esteem from this shit! it's not about tearing myself down tho it may look like it. I started from the premise that I was worth the kind of attention I get, that I was worth being played with, and I think that'd the only healthy way to do it. don't start this journey bc you are using it as a way to hurt yourself. the only way you can be good to other ppl, and enforce boundaries so they'll be good to you, is if you start it from a place of love. you're worthy of being called the names that turn you on and egged on to do the things that make you feel good, point blank period, and worthy of discarding the names and actions and people who do not do so.

what I'm saying is, my life feeds me. I'm beyond happy that it fuels others' fantasies and imaginations, but especially with all these newer denial enthusiasts in my ask box, I want to take a time out and say that YOU are number one. it doesn't matter if you like being degraded or humiliated, you do matter, and in a casual kink environment like this where, I'll admit, I've gone through a lot of bad shit with people when we try to go personal and get more close, you HAVE to hold that shit true in your heart. do not do it without adequate safeguards, by which I mean aftercare, boundaries, the block button, and an equal or greater dose of validation and support outside the scene.

I understand this may spoil the mood for anyone scrolling with their hand down their pants - but I'm not sorry; in a scene I've found contains plenty of manipulative, selfish, predatory, and abusive folks, I wanna remind people newer to the scene that safety is key. there are a lot of good people here, but whether or not others will be good to you, you must be good to yourself, because if you can, you will ALWAYS have that! and if you're good to yourself, it's that much easier to tell who's being good to you and who isn't 💕

play safe, babies.

[soopersara]

I'm intrigued! SB-08 - Whimsical please!

I just spotted the fic in your masterlist and .. love the premise. Now I must go read...after work. :D

Thanks for the ask!

So SB 08 - Whimsical is chapter 8 (and probably 9, 10, 11, etc - I didn't split the chapters up very well and the doc is over 13k words) of Stolen Bending, a fic that's been on hiatus for... longer than I'm proud of. It's not abandoned by any means, but my plans for later in the fic have always been squishy at best, I was dealing with some burnout and writer's block when I posted the last few chapters, and I just haven't gotten back to iron out the squishiness in between getting my other projects back on track post-writer's block.

Oh, and it's named "Whimsical" because my plan to keep the fic's length from ballooning out of control was to structure the story around old Zutara Week prompts—specifically the prompts from 2012, in this case. But, uh... when each "prompt" was getting to the 10-20k range, I had to accept that I had another novel-length fic on my hands. Whoops.

But there's some very fun goofiness that I'd completely forgotten about mixed in there - have some element-swapped Zutara meeting the musical hippy nomads as a treat!

"Hmm." Katara shaded her eyes with her hand. "What do you say that we just tell Sokka that it's full of fish, then laugh when the only thing he can catch is seaweed?"

The idea took him off guard, and he snorted. "That's one of the better ideas I've heard in a while. " He broke off when he heard something odd from the far side of the pond.

Katara glanced up at him, then she paused too, brows furrowing as she squinted off across the pond. "Is that—"

The approaching noises grew louder, and Zuko grabbed hold of her forearm. "I don't know. Let's just go before—"

He didn't make it any farther than that before a flash of color appeared through the trees, then another and another and another—not, to his surprise, because there were very many people coming their way, but because each of them wore almost clownishly bright outfits.

Zuko stared. On the one hand, this could possibly be a good thing. No one who willingly looked that absurd could pose a serious threat. On the other, these people were definitely out of their minds. Dangerous or not, he could hardly imagine this encounter ending well.

Unfortunately, it was probably too late to flee, and Katara didn't seem inclined to move anyway. Maybe it was curiosity or friendliness or even politeness, but it seemed that Zuko was stuck regardless.

The first of the strangers—a relatively tall, lanky man with shaggy, chin-length hair—burst from the trees and stopped at the edge of the water, slack-jawed.

"Whoa. Check out the river spirits, everyone." There was a slow, drawling quality to the man's voice that matched his almost vacant expression a bit too well. "Total coolness."

Zuko blinked. Then, entirely by reflex, "This isn't even a river. It's a pond."

Katara shot a bemused half-smile up at him, but the stranger across the pond nodded as though that were somehow a profound statement.

"Awesome. We found some pond spirits."

At that, Katara covered her mouth, but not quite fast enough to suppress her laugh. "We aren't spirits. We're just normal people."

"Oh," the man said as his companions—a very round man and a woman who might have been even taller than the first stranger—joined him. "Cool."

If there was any doubt left in Zuko's mind, that was enough to dispel it. These people were insane.

He gave Katara's arm a slight tug. "Let's just go back to camp," he said, quiet enough that the crazy people wouldn't be able to hear him. "If your brother wants to fish for pond grass, I say we let him."

[bookwormscififan]

My Bodyguard, Chapter 1

Read on AO3!

Prologue

A/N: Finally getting back to this AU! Basic premise: Mare is Mad's bodyguard, and Mad is a very well-known scientist that gets a lot of death threats and break ins.

--

Mad wasn’t used to having a bodyguard, being followed all the time and having to give his location every time he moved. Mare had given him a great number of lists to follow, and asked Jackie for several things to be purchased so he could make the place the safest possible.

Mad wouldn’t complain, but he wasn’t impressed with Mare needing them to lock up the rooms that weren’t in use.

“I just don’t get why he needs to block off certain rooms,” he grumbled to Jackie the next morning over a mug of coffee, speaking softly so Mare wouldn’t hear from the doorway to the kitchen. “I mean, who locks up a bedroom?”

“Mad, do you not know why people have locks on their bedroom doors?” Jackie asked, glancing at Mare to ensure the bodyguard wasn’t listening. “Actually, never mind. I don’t want to be that person who tells you these things,” he dismissed, shaking his head and drinking more coffee.

Mare finished typing out his report to his bosses, then tucked his phone into his pocket and moved into the kitchen. As Mad had made a comment about his wearing sunglasses inside, Mare had opted to only wear the sunglasses when he was out with Mad.

“Morning, Nova,” Jackie greeted, motioning to the coffee machine on the opposite counter. “Did you sleep well?” His gaze darted to Mad when he heard a scuffle, seeing the scientist hurriedly occupying himself with making a sandwich, face red as he snuck glances at the bodyguard.

“I slept well, thank you,” Mare responded, fixing himself a cup of coffee and turning to lean back against the counter. “You can call me Mare if it makes you more comfortable. I’d like to discuss Mad’s schedules with you today, so that I can work out the best ways to organise protection.”

“Mad doesn’t go out often,” Jackie replied, casually lifting his mug to his lips. “You’re better off just tailing him because he won’t say when he’s going to go out. Plus, I’m sure he’d appreciate having you follow him all the time,” he added in a singsong voice, grin growing at the darkening blush on Mad’s cheeks.

Mare followed Jackie’s gaze, letting an amused smile break his serious façade when he spotted how flustered Mad was, coating a slice of bread in jam distractedly in attempts to hide his reactions. Stirring the teaspoon in his coffee slowly, Mare stepped forward to stand behind Mad, releasing the spoon to pluck the bread out of his fingers.

“That’s a lot of sugar,” Mare said in a soft tone, masking his smirk at Mad’s squeak. “It’s not very healthy to have that much sugar with the amount of caffeine you’re drinking. Your reflexes will fall foul of you if you’re having too much of these, and then you won’t be able to react if someone does break in.”

“T-That’s supposed to be your-your job,” Mad’s voice was quiet, tiny as he curled up over the mug he now held. “You’ve been hired to protect me if someone breaks in. I-I don’t need to be able to react if you’re going to-going to react for me.”

Jackie’s snort of laughter made Mad glare at him, the look losing its effect when compared to the red flush adorning his cheeks. With a secretive wink at Mad and a curt nod at Mare, Jackie picked up his mug and left the kitchen, ignoring Mad squawk of protest at his retreat.

“I’ll make a note to have Jackie buy some organic plum jam,” Mare commented around his mouthful of bread, leaning an elbow on the counter beside Mad. “Less sugar, more health. It’ll probably also help your mental workings if you didn’t consume as much sugar.”

Mad pushed his mug of coffee away, dropping his head onto his folded arms with a groan. Turning his head slightly, he plucked the bread from Mare’s hand and bit into it, chewing grumpily.

“I need to install the cameras and locks around the house,” Mare stated with a huff, tugging on the cuffs of his sleeves and running a hand through his hair, not seeing how Mad’s eyes followed the shape of his arms. “If you’re just going to stay in the lab, then I’ll know where you are.”

Mad watched Mare leave the room from over his arms, gaze stopping at the way his shirt fell over his shoulder blades, letting out a soft whine as he dropped his face onto the counter again. Maybe he should have gotten a bodyguard earlier, but then he wasn’t sure if all bodyguards had the same physique as Mare’s, and he was already struggling to keep his heart beating by just seeing Mare moving.

---------------

@iamvegorott @brokentimewatch @dungeon-dragons-dragons @rattyboyisemo

[tobiasdrake]

Okay, Kurumi, I'm back. Let's go harass random people to see if they'll tell me secrets worth killing over.

Down the block how? You are in a sewer, madam. There are no blocks in the sewer.

Do you know the name of the movie? Maybe Amaterasu's disguising factual information that they want to keep secret as fiction, so that if anyone hears about it they'll go, "Oh, yeah, I saw that movie," and pay it no further mind.

I mean, I know there's like eleventy billion conspiracy theories with that as a premise. I'm just saying, maybe while we wait for Halara to do the real work, hitting up a movie for definitely work-related purposes wouldn't be too bad of an idea.

This is going swell. We are very good investigators.

Oh, Kurumi, that's not true at all. We learned some spicy gossip about a sewer affair. Might be able to pull on that thread and find a classic "cheating spouse" gig for Yakou.

But for rooting out Amaterasu's most deeply-held murder-secrets? No. This was stupid and we shouldn't have bothered.

We wasted an entire day on this. T_T We'd have had better luck trying to survey people on who they're voting for in the next election. And the ballot only has one name on it. Also they arrest you for trying to drop it off because this is not a democracy.

I hope Halara's investigation went better.

Kurumi wants to break into the Restricted Area, despite Halara telling us not to.

I love it. I'm here for it.

...oh, no, she wants to go ask Makoto about Amaterasu's most deeply held murder-secrets.

Which. Like. I can see where she's coming from; He probably knows, if anyone does. But. Like. He will either be entirely forthcoming or he'll have us buried in shallow graves for knowing too much. That is an all-or-nothing play.

Yeah. I'm with Yuma on this. Makoto is a perilous wildcard. As I've stated before, we know he's against Yomi but we have no idea what he's for. He just spouts platitudes about loving the city and wanting a better future and stuff, while committing to no real specifics.

What we're doing right now isn't about undermining the Peacekeepers. It's about finding the deepest, darkest, ugliest secrets buried in the catacombs of the company Makoto runs and intends to reclaim control over. We may not be allies in this.

Of course, Shinigami's agreement always makes me second-guess my own position. She clearly knows some things about Makoto and may have a pre-existing relationship with him.

I also get the impression that, as much as he talks about Kanai Ward needing detectives, his interest is in Yuma specifically. He barely interacts with the other Master Detectives. When the sub was bombed, he had his men grab Yuma and left the rest to fend for themselves. He's got a suspicious tunnel-vision when it comes to this kid.

You're not wrong, but we're still talking about a secret he might kill us for knowing about. I'm not sure how you bring that up in casual conversation without showing your hand.

Looks like we're doing this. We're going to go talk to Makoto about the secret lab.

We should drop by the sub anyway. Let Yakou know that if we wind up missing and/or dead in the next couple hours, then Makoto knows something about the secret lab that he doesn't want revealed. Then race up the stairs before he has time to process that this means we're about to bring some heat down on the agency again.

[neotrances]

one thing i would really like to see people reflect on more is that some bigoted moments in a series hits all of us differently and some will hit more close to home. there's stuff that may ruin the enjoyment of a series for one person. but that doesn't mean it makes sense for them to pressure all others to drop the series as well to "prove" they aren't bigoted in their heart. (i'm referring to stuff like if it's bad to watch the black butler anime. not the active boycott of the harry potter game which is about cutting funding to hate groups)

an example i can think of is tangled where there is a lot of horrific antisemitism in the villain and premise. i still enjoy tangled in many ways to this day. tho realizing that did dampen my enthusiasm for it. there's still non-bigoted aspects that i enjoyed at the time and trivia about its creation that i'm still very into now. someone who is jewish might feel really sickened by that movie and rightfully just want nothing to do with it. though it'a a bad idea to throw accusations that anyone who critically consumes and likes tangled and condemns the antisemitism within is still a secret antisemite.

mainly because no one can hold that all or none energy for everything. and what you get is the same white queer 19 year old coming for you with insults and accusations for enjoying an anime with a transphobic moment. who is making exception for the blackface in their fave anime. it's like so let me get this straight: the white tumblr user is able to consume racial caricature in jjba critically and is not ~secretly a freak / racist / icky? but when neotrances consumes black butler critically, being honest about its bigoted and creepy moments, he's a transphobic pedo? it's literally always contradictory.

and the limits to what makes one series problematic but watchable and another so bad that it's unwatchable usually comes down to personal oppressions and triggers. which is incredibly fair. but can't be strictly pushed onto others because that's how we have the current masses of white queer fans of the latest racist micro aggressions show blocking and reporting other users who watch AOT. now we have white people being like i don't want to catch any of you watching the anime with a trans misogynistic caricature but then proudly post about the anime that has black and chinese racial caricatures . like FUCK you and fuck your dni list bitch

it's still the i can excuse racism but i draw the line at animal cruelty thing still happening

literally all this exactly literally

[tiatexadafannetwork]

Interviews: Val Kilmer & Tia Texada on Spartan

MARCH 9, 2004

BY PBADMIN

David Mamet has earned a reputation in Hollywood as one of the foremost screenwriters due to his sharp dialogue, interesting characters and innovative storytelling. For Spartan, his ninth film as a director, Mamet takes a fairly simple premise about the search for the missing daughter of a political figure and creates a rich tapestry of political intrigue and conspiracy.

At the center of the story is Agent Robert Scott, played by Val Kilmer, a former Marine that has become an agent of the government’s Special Forces used to deal with tough situations that they do not want traced back them. For this mission, he works with two rookies, played by Derek Luke (Antwone Fisher) and Tia Texada of the NBC drama “Third Watch”, to try to find the girl, hitting roadblocks at every turn.

ComingSoon.net sat down and spoke to Val and Tia about their tough roles in this intriguing political thriller. Of course, our first question was how they got interested in David Mamet’s latest project:

Val: “I liked the story. It’s a very simple premise about what happens when the daughter of a high ranking political figure goes missing and the secret service doesn’t know what to do about it. It’s a strange group, the secret service, because they don’t have a leader. It’s not set-up like the military because each one is supposed to be able to act as the leader when it comes up. As consequence of that, certain things can happen and they can’t coordinate with every organization to get the girl back.”

Tia: “When I read the script, I loved the role [of Jackie Black] immediately, because she was so committed and dedicated. I felt she was like a nun; her commitment was like a nun’s commitment would be to God. These people in the Special Forces, they give their lives over to the country. We had specific instructions that everything was about the mission, so it didn’t matter what else was going on.”

And what about how it is to actually work with Mamet? Is he as difficult to work with as some might think?

Val: “He has an opinion and he’s outspoken, and not at all shy. But he’s fantastic. He’s funny as hell and he cares pretty much about everything. He always has an observation that is worth hearing and he writes like mad!”

Tia: “Mamet’s an amazing playwright, so there’s always an intimidation, but he makes everybody want to do their best with his energy and what he puts out there. David’s dialogue is very crisp; it has a rhythm and a cadence. It was great seeing Val working with David, because I would never put them together, just from their styles and backgrounds, but they worked so well together. David definitely has a style and knows what he wants, so sometimes it would be different than what I’d bring. He’ll be very specific, and you wonder why he wants to see it like this, but when I see the film as a whole, I can see what he was trying to create, and where my character, Jackie Black, fits into that. When you work with David, everybody wants to come back.”

For their roles, they had to play characters that had to make quick and often difficult decisions. It was interesting to find out how they worked at developing their characters:

Val: “We had a technical advisor, Eric Haney, who was around quite a bit. He was very helpful, because he has lived this same life beyond the government, like this character, where his own actions, become technically-speaking illegal. When the government is doing something illegal, that’s the dilemma.”

Tia: “Haney was a member of the Delta Force for years, and he wrote a book called “Inside the Delta Force”. He helped me learn how to speak the dialogue, how the military would speak to each other with a certain respect, and how sometimes, you’d have to block your sexuality out. I had to pull back on things that maybe I would do naturally.”

Val: “They speak very casually, but they’re amazing characters, because they are trained like a brain surgeon or like a combat medic, where someone’s life is on the line. Your ability to handle that stress and do something that is as intricate as getting inside someone’s body and put it back together is how they live. It’s a very, very stressful job. Most of them die. There’s 0% chance of most of their missions succeeding. They’re genuine warriors, although they’re not warmongers, because they like it when there’s peace time, but they’re also action junkies that thrive in this place in life where they pretty much know they’re going to die.”

Tia: “Eric explained to me that there would be no women in this organization at all, so it’s interesting that David wrote her as a woman.”

Was there a lot of training involved?

Val: “I worked very hard on it, because you can’t really fake this sort of prowess that they have. They’re not like tough guys, and you don’t really see them in a crowd. That’s why they’re so good at their job. They’re very strong and very quick. I had a lot of weapons training and learned how to move like them.”

Tia: “I did my military training here in New York. It’s funny, because I was in such great shape, but you can’t tell. I thought I was going to be like in tank tops, but instead, I’m wearing men’s fatigues. They also trained me in knife fighting even though you don’t see it in the movie.”

Both stars had strong opinions on the movie’s political views, and how it reflects on the current government:

Val: “I think “Wag the Dog” (also written by Mamet) was a really good film representing what’s possible with the manipulation of media. I’ve very wary of news on television. I was very impressed with media analyst Neil Postman’s book “Amusing Ourselves to Death”, because his theory was that television doesn’t influence our culture, but it is our culture and that the presidency or anything that relies on television is now totally dictated by it. We saw that during Desert Storm where government officials were saying, “I won’t know what our policy is in relation to today’s battle, because I haven’t seen CNN yet.” They just started saying that, and it was shocking! That isn’t reality. That is entertainment. News is something that happens that matters to you, not something you watch on television.”

Tia: “It’s so interesting really what goes on in our world today, and I think that’s what David is so great at showing. The political aspect of it is what makes the movie intriguing, and it’s what pulled me in. There’s a lot of underlying things going on in our government, which we always wonder about. David is very interested in politics, so it was interesting to see his word on it.”

[fma03envy]

okay one more dr ask thing (dont feel obligated to answer if you dont want to BUT) Id really love to hear what you think about the big questions 20 and 42, its bit something Ive seen peoole discuss on tumblr at length recently

Had a few thoughts for the first one so putting them under the cut

20. What is your favorite aspect of Danganronpa?

This one's a bit hard to put into words but I'll try.

I love Danganronpa plotlines that kind of HAD to happen based on the context was built up, and characters who are doomed by some core aspect of their situation (either plot context or their own intrinsic character traits).

I think Nagito's a good example of this, because him being Like That is so tied to his talent on every level as well as to the setting of the killing game, but with context it feels like he couldn't have turned out any other way. His whole "this despair will lead to even greater hope" thing cannot be separated from the fact that his talent literally guarantees anything unlucky that happens to him to be reimbursed with something lucky. Everything in his life is so dialed up to 1000 that his only way of staying hopeful on a personal level is to believe that the cycle ends at the universe righting itself, a sentiment that the setting of the killing game makes the others see (correctly) as illogical but him cling to as salvation. He's the most extreme version of what Chiaki and Kamishiro describe where people get defined by their talents.

Dr3 Chiaki is another one of my absolute favorite examples, though in her case what gets me is more a matter of framing. You first see her and your immediate thought is "WAIT why is Chiaki here? There isn't any human Chiaki later-" and then after a second the dots connect™. But if you're anything like me, you still end up endeared by her, and so will find yourself hoping against hope that maybe she'll be ok. And so of course, she isn't, she was never going to be, she dies as horribly as possible, setup and payoff. Aside from all the junkozuru stuff, Chiaki's arc is easily my favorite part of dr3 because it takes advantage of its nature as a prequel and uses your own expectations to build dread.

Speaking of prequels, I feel like Danganronpa Zero (my favorite part of the Dr series thus far) also utilizes its chronological location well to build an air of inevitability. Like you know after this book comes The Literal Apocalypse, so the question isn't if or how everything will go to shit but when. And our protagonist's attitude of denial only heightens your unease, because she's so singlemindedly set on having a happy life with Matsuda and blocking everything else out that you can't help but assume that ultimately will become impossible (and of course in the back of your mind, the fact that neither of them is ever seen again later in the series nags at you). But then it turns out that Ryoko is doomed not only by the narrative but also by her base character premise. Her very existence was conditional and she was never going to win; Junko would never be able to find satisfaction chasing such dreams.

(Sidenote: I would also argue that Junko and Izuru are both intrinsically doomed by their own boredom tied to their ridiculously OP talents. This is why Junko devotes herself to insane schemes that will never be enough, and why Izuru's two choice coping mechanisms are a) give up or b) help her).

Plus on reread, not only does Ryoko's plight become more tragic, but Matsuda's whole thing feels a lot more predetermined, both because Junko had the whole thing literally planned from the beginning (which is foreshadowed in ways that drive me up the wall), and because it's like. All Matsuda's actions tie back to the combination of his classmates being murdered + his loyalty to Junko + his suspicions he's trying desperately to first ignore and then disprove that she's behind this + guilt over harboring her + guilt over Soshun + guilt over lashing out at Ryoko about this when she doesn't remember and LOVES him, guilt guilt guilt guilt. Of COURSE he's a confused, bitter contradictory mess, how would this character be anything else in this context.

So, the short answer would be that dr0 Mukuro's repeated "that's the kind of story this is" quote encompasses the ideal Danganronpa vibe (ik she only repeats that in one of the two dr0 fanstranslations I have on hand but I like the quote and so am hoping it's canon)

42. How do you feel about the Danganronpa fandom as a whole?

Eh, I feel like I'm not really the best person to ask here? My perception is skewed by the facts that a) I only really interact with dr fans on Tumblr (or insta but then it's mostly ppl who've followed me first) b) I'm very quick to block strangers if it seems like they're shitty or annoying and c) I've been into dr for less than a year. So I feel like I've been able to keep my own experiences relatively good bc of that?

Generally a lot of the weird bigotry I've seen here is people uncritically parroting the same stuff present in the games, but also I've been a fan of media with far fewer issues where the fandom really wasn't much better (see: utdr. Trying to find letsplayers who I didn't hate was just as hard there as here; currently I've got like 2 channels I trust to be normal about dr but that's it). So basically no good fandoms only good friends

[ofdetonation]

EXPLANATIONS  +  TIMELINE.

This is just to make things a little more understandable when approaching my villain verse, seeing as I’m using it a little more often than before.

The main premise of my villain verse is that Katsuki would never willingly be a villain.  I’ve always believed he’d stick to his beliefs and his heroic ideals no matter what, hence why the path after returning to the heroes is recovery  -  rather than redemption, which would imply that he chose this path willingly.  It makes his time under the League messy, complicated, and a constant battle of maintaining his conditioning.

Here are a few points I’ve considered:

I.    How does Katsuki end up becoming a villain?

It’s not willing, as I’ve mentioned.  It takes place right before All Might defeats All For One and takes him in to Tartarus.  Instead of Midoriya, Kirishima, Iida, Todoroki and Yaoyorozu being successful in their rescue attempt and getting Katsuki out of there, the League is able to keep him cornered and pinned down, hence hindering his escape.  All For One successfully sends Katsuki off with the rest of the League with the trust that Shigaraki and Doctor Garaki can find a use for Katsuki as a pawn.

With no way to escape  -  and having witnessed the final moments of All Might’s battle and therefore his career, although All For One is defeated  -  Katsuki is at the mercy of the League.  Doctor Garaki works to make Katsuki a destructive weapon, aiming to keep his fury and determination while suppressing his heroic stunts at the same time.  It’s kind of like brainwashing him;  it keeps him in line, and they have someone to create chaos on their behalf.

II.    What is the conditioning process, and why is it not perfected?

Think about the process Garaki used for Nine and Shigaraki to infuse All For One’s Quirk, and then think about the Nomus we see in the series.  Now, Katsuki is not exactly one or the other, nor is he an exact combination of both  -  but the main idea is that Garaki requires a similar procedure to condition Katsuki.  The process itself is kind of like...  Closing off certain neural pathways while instilling new ones to replace them, to make him believe he’s always been a villain, and hero society had failed him.  It alters his perception of memories and suppresses his heroic tendencies by temporarily blocking the neural pathways that call for that.

While successful, it’s not like Garaki can actually erase those old neural pathways.  The brain is a very complicated organ with many intricacies, and therefore it’s impossible to keep things the exact same the entire time  -  this is why it’s not perfect.  The whole point of this procedure is so they can utilise his emotions and determination to better gain the desired outcome (which is often mass destruction), but they can’t afford to potentially lose that to the full Nomu process, where it’s only the intense desire of something that drives them and the orders they get.  They want Katsuki to have some independence in what he does.

When the neural pathways begin to reconnect and refresh, Katsuki starts to break through the conditioning and begins to display momentary heroic acts  -  saving people from his own destruction, actively attempting to minimise collateral.  It also creates an intense dissonance between his villain persona and his true self.  Because of that, he tends to act out violently or even dissociates between missions given by the League, and he has to be kept away from the League until the conditioning is refreshed.  Doctor Garaki has to consistently refresh the conditioning to ensure they don’t lose control over Katsuki.  And every time, without fail, it’s a painful process, a fateful reminder that Katsuki hasn’t escaped it yet.

It’s actually the fact that it isn’t a perfected process that allows Katsuki the window to escape at all  -  because in the end, Katsuki always wins.  He just needs to find the opening.

III.    Who can break Katsuki out of his conditioning?

Anyone he has a strong connection with prior to his kidnapping, essentially.  The only rule that comes with this is that he has to be approaching the most unstable part of his conditioning where he’s too dissonant to stay Ground Zero;  if someone he knows tries to approach him too soon, they will learn pretty fast that he likely won’t recognise them.  Or, if he does  -  if it’s in that halfway mark  -  it won’t pull him out of the conditioning long enough to bring him back.

There is maybe one or two exceptions to this, but they are very specific.

IV.    Why use Ground Zero as a name?

When I was trying to find a sort of bomb-related name to use as his villain name, I really couldn’t find...  Anything.  Nothing that clicked, at least.  Then I considered the fan hero name before his actual hero name was introduced, and looked into its meaning.

The reason I settled for Ground Zero is the fact that it’s used to describe the point of impact of which a bomb detonates.  I actually consider it, in this context, a very negative description of what Katsuki becomes, instead of his actual hero name of (Great Explosion Murder God) Dynamight  -  Dynamight is a word play, after all.  It’s homage to All Might while referring to dynamite, something we commonly use in construction.  Ground Zero is almost like...  A war-like term for something you don’t want to be near.  It just felt right.

V.    If he’s meant to go back to the heroes eventually, when would be the most appropriate time for him to do so?  Can this be changed?

I feel like if I had to pinpoint a moment for Katsuki to go back to the heroes, it’d be during the first war, when the heroes attack the hospital and Shigaraki is released.  Katsuki is with the Paranormal Liberation Front when it happens and works with them at first to help fight off the heroes.  I feel like given the right circumstances, and depending on his timeline and how long it’d been since his conditioning was refreshed, he actively goes to where Endeavor, Deku, Shouto, and Shigaraki is.  From there, he’s likely incapacitated fast, and brought to the hospital after the war so they might begin reversing the effects.

Mind you, this can be easily changed.  The ideal part of this is that as long as it resides along the timeline after All Might vs. AFO, it’s plausible for him to be brought back sooner or later.  It’s also pretty accommodating to alternate verses for other muses.

VI.    How does the recovery process work?

The pathways created by Garaki are fragile without the reinforcement of re-conditioning Katsuki consistently;  and, with access to his neural pathways from before, it’s just a matter of helping Katsuki re-wire and re-evaluate completely.  It’s about allowing him to work through the dissonance caused by being Ground Zero and being himself with the support of medical innovation and state-of-the-art technology.

Unfortunately, in the very early stages of his recovery, this makes Katsuki incredibly unstable and unapproachable.  They don’t know what’s been done to him but they can’t keep him sedated forever, needing to try and get answers from him so they might develop a reasonable treatment to deal with what’s been done to him  -  not that any of the ones he provides are helpful to begin with.  He’s hostile and quite literally explosive.  If Quirk suppressants exist, he’s going to need them;  that way, he doesn’t break out of the hospital and isolate himself instead.

Over time, though, Katsuki will provide some clearer answers where he can and dissociate more than lash out.  It’s a small window where the doctors can finally start determining how to help Katsuki through the recovery.

Ultimately, it’s a matter of completely blocking out the created neural pathways so Katsuki can always rely on the ones he had before.  They can never be truly rid of  -  at that point, they’re concrete enough that Katsuki could never be rid of them  -  but they’re able to almost guarantee that Katsuki never even realises the pathways are there in the first place.

The initial hassle is eliminating the drive to obey orders from the League.  That part is, thankfully, the easiest part of it all  -  so even if the neural pathways are reawakened for some reason and Katsuki walks back down that path unwillingly, the League is very unlikely to be able to control him.  That makes him a wild card, but there’s an executive decision that him being a wild card is arguably better than him remaining a pawn under the League.

While Katsuki acts more like himself after being taken in, it’s not for months or even a year or two before he actually feels that way.

VII.    Does he remember anything from before his time in the League while he’s with them?  Does he then remember what he did after being brought back?

He doesn’t remember much when he’s at the peak of his conditioning.  He only remembers skewed memories of hero society failing him, treating him as a villain, twisting the words of those he originally had trust in.  As the conditioning wears off, though, these altered memories add to his dissonance;  he remembers these people ridiculing him, but then he remembers those same people recognising him for doing good.

At the same time, Katsuki will start to remember flashes from before.  Recognisable features, voices, actions  -  usually he can’t put names to them, but he remembers them as people who had faith in him, and it drives a wedge into his conditioning further.  The block on his memory becomes unsteady and he has to go through re-conditioning before it goes too far.

In contrast, Katsuki remembers everything he did when he’s brought back.

There’s an intense amount of guilt in knowing that he failed to be strong enough to stop himself from becoming a weapon.  He’s not only levelled buildings, destroyed points of interest, injured countless  -  but he’s killed.  A lot of the time, he never actually saw that he killed them, but it’s a bit unmistakeable, how his unrelenting explosions cause screams of the damned.  He’s asked for ways to block those memories out completely, but it’s up to his own brain to do so, to suppress it so he may forget their faces, the smell, the warmth...  This doesn’t happen for a long time.

GENERAL  TIMELINE.

KIDNAPPING.    The first kidnapping occurs as per normal.  Katsuki is taken by the League despite Class 1A’s best efforts to prevent it.

PRO HEROES RESCUE MISSION.    The Pro Heroes say enough is enough and work together to get Katsuki as per normal.  Everything plays out the same until both Katsuki and All Might are isolated in Kamino.

STUDENTS RESCUE MISSION.    This is where it diverges.  While the plan is sound and they execute it as per normal, the League have a better handle on Katsuki and prevent his window of escape.  Katsuki gets knocked down before he can make it to Midoriya, Kirishima, and the others, and the League are able to take him in.

SECOND KIDNAPPING.    All For One sends the entire League away like in canon, with the addition of Katsuki.  While the fight continues as planned and All Might wins, Katsuki has to witness his idol give up his entire career.  His belief that it’s his fault carries with him even when he tries to fight the League to get out.

BEGINNING OF HIS CONDITIONING.    Being sent to Doctor Garaki and being held back by the League, they begin the process.  The initial process has him suspended in liquid for a time, but it feels suffocating.

GROUND ZERO.    Now under their control after a couple of weeks of being suspended and altered, Katsuki is given his new name and first mission.  He’s mostly tasked with mass destruction and targeting groups that threaten the League’s existence unless they prove valuable in the long run  -  like the Shie Hassaikai.

Hopefully this clears up Katsuki’s villain verse a bit more!  It’s probably a bit crude at the moment, but I hope to refine it down the track.