#but really they are doing advanced forms of scheming that would wear out the rest of us in seconds

[novelistparty]

one of the top three worst passive-aggressive behaviors is men who relentlessly prattle about other people while also self-deprecating and laughing about it like they don't mean it as they throw in seemingly over-the-top insults about people near to them. Related: as they begin speaking of someone they cut themselves off and announce "well I won't say they _____, but...." or stopping themselves and saying "I was gonna make a joke about _____ but I better not *wink*" It's an advanced form of "I'm just joking L O L" and is particularly terrible in "gentle" "nerdy" men that are obviously hoping to be the center of attention at all times. these are some of the missing stairs in our lives

[irenedubrovna]

A post regarding Euphoria for the benefit of myself and basically no one else

So, it really bothers me when people say Euphoria is groundbreaking, progressive media. Here’s a dissection of why I don’t think it is, because this is what I feel like doing at work:

The character of Rue is objectively great. She by far receives the least overt sexualization, and is treated neutrally in terms of active sexuality. She’s treated like a normal teenage girl with mental issues and an addiction to drugs. She falls in love with a girl who she pines for and places on a pedestal. The reason I think she is written this way is because she is a Sam Levinson proxy. She written with gender ambiguity and with little regard to the experiences she’d go through as a black gay female, probably because Sam Levinson has no insight to that aspect of life. Her performance is heightened of course by Zendaya, who breathes unique life to the Sam Levinson’s artistic extension, and without her performance this show would not get even half the acclaim it gets. Attribute that to Zendaya of course, because the director has done little to deserve this acclaim.

The rest of the females, sans Lexi, are pornified to a disgusting extent, not only due to the fact that they are supposed to be underage, but also because their existence as people is treated as being absolutely secondary to their sexual appeal. They are foremost presented in terms of their relation to sex. Cassie, Maddy, Jules, and Kat cannot be removed from their sexuality without disrupting the plot or their journeys in relation to the plot. Why are the females so intrinsically linked to uber fetishized versions of female sexuality, or uber fetishized versions of blossoming female sexual identity?

Maddy is presented not only scantily clad 90 percent of the time, but also dressed in a precariously unattainable sexual fashion. At any given time she is styled to look straight out of, simultaneously, a high fashion editorial, and a “barely legal” porno. She is airheaded and profane, and promiscuous, her mannerisms dictated by the adult films she’s “studied” in order to project an image of perfect hyper sexual femininity. She’s complacent in becoming a prototypical housewife because it will earn her a comfortable place as a trophy wife. She has no aspirations beyond that. So, let’s unpack all of that. Maddy’s role in the show is mostly passive. The most active thing she does in the plot is revenge fuck a man in the pool of a party. Nearly everything else she does in the show that is plot relevant is of someone else’s volition. Even less of what she in the show is related to anything other than a man. She is abused and then pressured into framing another man for said abuse. She has no agency as a character. The only notable difference to this rule is when she takes drugs at a carnival, knocks a pot of chili over, and calls her ex’s mom a cunt. Removed from her active sexual life and carefully cultivated aesthetic, she’s a trite stereotype of an unambitious girlfriend who gets treated poorly. I see people call Maddy iconic, but if she wasn’t gorgeous and well dressed, I doubt anyone would even think twice about her, let alone create fancams and Instagram pages dedicated to her. She exists as a plot device, and as pretty set dressing to build up the shows aesthetic. Her emotions are not well explored, her motivations are sexist, and she is often there to be demeaned, objectified, or to say a bad word. The most damning part of her involvement in this show is her episode where it is stated that she, as a fourteen year old girl, lost her virginity to an adult man, and it is stated she was in control of the situation. This is a dangerous thing to say about a character, to any audience, but especially a young one. To imply that a precocious young girl was in control during her first sexual encounter with a much much older man implies things that frankly border on rape apologist ideology. This show states this unflinchingly and with no further elaboration. If there’s one thing that tells you that Euphoria is a bad show, let it be that. Also, if there’s one thing that tells you about Sam Levinson as a person, and the way he views girls and women, let it fucking be that.

Jules is a young trans girl. She also likes to have sex with men as a means to “conquer femininity”. Scratch that, she likes to have degrading sex with older men in order to “conquer femininity”. This mindset is shown to be toxic, of course, but I think the problem with this idea in general is that there’s no deeper exploration for what this mindset means. It implies that she believes women are the sum of their intrigue and degradations. This mindset I can only assume would be a cultivation of dysphoria and internalized misogyny, which this series is absolutely not prepared to address in a tactful manner. Jules is a teenager with mental illness, trauma, and is undergoing an identity crisis. There’s something powerful in her character, something worth saying, however we only get trimmings of those meaningful things, and are ultimately left with a hurtful depiction of a trans girl because all of her musings on womanhood and identity are incomplete, and they fail to reach beyond the surface of their thesis statement. She wears colorful clothing, is overtly feminine and artistic in her presentation. Everything about her screams insecurity over her own womanhood. That is the crux of her character. Now, I think we should ask ourselves, is trans person who is insecure about their identity peak representation? Is this what trans people deserve? Is it “groundbreaking “? If this show was run by someone else, I might be inclined to say that there’s nothing insidious about this, but this is the guy that made Assassination Nation, so I think we know what he thinks of young women, the way they should be portrayed (that is, for the capitulation of a man) and realize his inclusion of a trans woman in his cast is no more meaningful than the inclusion of any other woman. Women to him are made to be categorized and should, at the end of the day, be easily palatable for the capitulation of a man. The device of having Jules being interested in older men and rough sex for identity reasons is transparent. Trans women are exploited and objectified with a similar fervor to cis women, the caveat being that they are “a forbidden fruit” of sorts to straight men. Jules is sissified, her presentation fetishistic. Her role in the plot is more involved. Her relationship with Rue is sweet, though toxic on both sides. She is ultimately betrayed, blackmailed, and snowballs into something of a manic episode, all well portrayed by Hunter Schafer, but I don’t think her inclusion in the show absolves it of any of its many sins.

Let’s talk about Cassie. Cassie is the Eurocentric beauty standard exemplified. She is the blonde haired blue eyed girl next store, and her boobs are of course always on display. She is notably promiscuous, something I say right off the bat because that’s how she’s introduced, as a so called slut through the words of the devil (Nate Jacobs). She is a girl with daddy issues, which we are all familiar with at this point. Her sexual boundaries begin and end at the whim of her partner. The terms of her consent are much like the terms of consent of many young girls brainwashed by society and the rising tide of degradation porn: everything is alright as long as you provide them comfort and affirmation afterward. You can touch them roughly without asking, you can use them as a tool to affirm your masculinity. This is the way men prefer their women now: just broken enough to say yes to anything they want. It’s become a joke at this point. Men like girls with issues, but only the ones that will feed their own desires. Cassie Howard is meek. Her inclusion in the plot I suppose ties to themes of drug addiction and how it divides and destroys the people you love. It doesn’t show what it does to her beyond shaping her sexual encounters, which is no surprise. Overall I’d say Cassie is in this roster of females as the most traditional categorically, in relation to how men view women and further how they sexualize them. She has a relationship with someone who doesn’t really love her. That mostly what she does here. Gets used. Doesn’t drive the plot or conflict much. More pretty set dressing. More aesthetics. How this show consists of so many women but is driven so much by men is unsurprising, and, again, very enlightening in the grand scheme of things.

Lastly we touch on Kat. I’d like to begin with the fact that self actualization through sexual exploration, in a show run by a man, is just a cloak for a woman to gratify the audience with her sexuality. Regardless of whether or not she is plus sized, this is overt objectification. She is on this show to be sexy. Beyond that, the fact that a minor using sex work as a form of liberation is disgusting. Whether or not she is portrayed as “owning” her sexuality is negligible, and speaks to the same mindset discussed with Maddy. Minors cannot fucking consent to sex, sexual acts, or anything within the confines of such. It’s crazy that this occurs with two different characters in such a similar way. It has echoes of “Well, she looked older..” and “Well, she wanted it..” or “She’s advanced for her age”. Never, not once in the events of the series is there meaningful introspection on what doing this kind of thing does to a minor. Moreover, these acts are explicit, and made clearly for sexual gratification. None of these things are absolved by the fact that she’s plus sized. If anything, her body type is fetishized in this context. It’s also another case of a “good girl to bad girl” transformation, which are archaic and, of course, sexist. With the rise of adult websites targeting minors for explicit content, this is even more reprehensible. Once again, in terms of representation, is this really what speaks to you as progressive? Groundbreaking? A girl gains control of her own narrative by having sex with lots of men. She gains control by being sexy. She gains control by dehumanizing and objectifying herself. No she doesn’t. Media controlled by men will tell this story to you thousands of times, don’t listen because she’s bigger than a size four.

ALL OF THESE CHARACTERS ARE UNDERAGE. ALL OF THEM HAVE EXPLICIT SEX SCENES, EVEN THE SEXUAL ASSAULT IS MADE CINEMATICALLY PORNIFIED. THESE SHOTS ARE MADE TO BE OBJECTIVELY SEXY. THIS IS NOT A CASE OF SOMEONE CREATING SOMETHING FOR THE SAKE OF REALISM. IT IS ABOUT MAKING SCENES THAT SPEAK TO A MALE AUDIENCE. THAT CATER TO THE MALE GAZE. ARGUE WITH THE WALL.

I won’t go further into the plot, other characters, or the structure or the episodes for sake of brevity, but I felt compelled to air my thoughts on this to the void. I can only hope I was critical enough that Sam Levinson will one day see this and cry because another bad feminist thinks something that he made sucks

[paddymoonstruck]

𝐰𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐟𝐮𝐥 𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐬┃𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐫

chapter two

warnings: season 4/manga spoilers, mentions and depictions of death, death, war, cursing, angst, eren being an asshole 

word count: 6,406

notes: PROCEED WITH CAUTION major season four/manga spoilers ahead !!! ALSO — I’ve read the last chapter and bestie lmao — i just wanted to pour the dread I felt by posting this chapter since it is also vv sad!!!!  ENJOY THOUGH !!!

PREVIOUS CHAPTER/S: moodboard/prologue, one 

𝐢'𝐯𝐞 𝐠𝐨𝐭 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐬 𝐮𝐩 𝐦𝐲 𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐚 𝐜𝐨𝐰𝐛𝐨𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐦𝐞

A malicious smirk curled upon the lips of a certain brunette, head peaking from the corner of a concrete housing. His bright, turquoise irises scanned the friend group of his intended target, arms linked one after the other, walking towards to door that led to the hallway of the dorms. 

“Eren, is this really necessary?” Armin whispered beside Eren, his voice shook in the slightest as he watched the bunch near the door. 

Eren scoffed, nodding his head firmly, never taking his eyes off of them. “It wouldn’t have to be if she didn’t pour salt on my oatmeal earlier . . .” The frown that decorated his face was fleeting, the scheming glint present again, as anticipation bubbled in his stomach.

Devon Janea stretched her hand out, placing in on the metal knob, she laughed along to what ever Sasha and Nifa were chatting about. Her palm twisted the knob, giving it a light push. A soft clank ticked above her head, followed by the liquid  icy flow that took her awhile to recognize as water. It cascaded from her head down to her boots. 

Both of her companion let out a gasp, pulling the wooden bucket that had fallen on their friend’s head. 

Eren’s smirk, shifted into a series of baffling hysterics, his gaze pointed at the now soaking wet Survey Corps uniform of Devon. Her golden brown locks dampened, turning them a shade darker. 

Despite the numbing sensation of Devon’s body, she managed to catch wind of someone laughing annoyingly loud. Her suspicions were confirmed as her vision landed on an elated piece of shit kneeling on the ground, clutching his stomach a few feet away from them. 

She made eye contact with a pair of ocean eyes as she looked up, which immediately swam in mercy. If she wasn’t freezing to death, she would’ve laughed at the fear on Armin’s face but she was able to comprehend was the desire to crush Eren Yeager’s skull into ash. 

“Oi, Yeager!” She bellowed, unclipping her soiled cape from her back. 

“You’re gonna get it now . . .” Nifa mumbled, earning an enthusiastic giggle from Sasha.

Eren stood from his place, chortling toned down to occasional chuckles, he crossed his arms to his chest, observing Devon’s shaking form as she approach him. 

The exasperated expression that had morphed itself on her face never wavering. Her drenched footwear squelched under the Earth’s pressure. “You have five seconds to tell me why — oh why you did that.” 

Apparently, the seething irritation Devon carried in her tone triggered Eren’s funny-bone because not a second later, stupid laughs poured away from his very much punchable mouth. 

It was short-lived, however — since Devon’s patience had ran thin and next thing everyone knew, her arm swung back, fist colliding painfully against Eren’s abdominal area, producing a clean booming crunch. 

A series of oof’s can be heard behind her which she could’ve guessed were a few people who had came to witness this brawl that occurred quite frequently much to their squad captains’ displeasure.

He had stumbled back a few inches, ass meeting the soil. The agonized groan that escaped his lips were a blessing to Devon’s ears, and her eyes feast at the same suffering that contorted his face. 

Armin instantly came to his side, eyes wide in panic. 

Wringing her moistened hair in both hands, she raised an eyebrow as she saw Armin’s pleading eyes. “Don’t give me that look — “ She scorned, a mocking smile dressed her features. “He’s the idiot that came at me.”

Eren shot her a murdering daggers. “You started it!” 

A child — an immature child —

“Excuse me?” Devon questioned, hands settling on her hips. 

“You ruined my breakfast!” His voice boomed inspite the pain shooting at his stomach.

Devon pondered his words, brows furrowing in thought. Just then, a memory flashed between her eyes, producing an inelegant snort from her mouth.

A hand came to cup her lips instantly, doing little to conceal the blooming grin that had appeared.

“Oh, that.” She affirmed, voice filled with mirth. “In my defense, you kept kicking my leg for no reason— so—”

A foot after the other, she strided towards the boy who had now gotten off the ground, fists clenched at either sides. Regardless of the noticeable difference in their height, Devon stood tall, as she looked up at Eren.

“—technically, you started it . . .” She narrowed her eyes, staring at Eren’s equally annoyed ones.

Almost half a minute passed, the open courtyard remained quiet as both Scouts stared in each other down as if waiting for one of them to disintegrate into nothing but ash.

However, A firm cutting tsk made everyone flinch. Devon and Eren seem to stumbled back onto reality, goosebumps rising on their arms.

Both snapped their heads to the terrifyingly familiar sound and behold— with a deep scowl resting on his usually neutral face, Captain Levi tapped his foot next to the sploch of wetness on the ground.

His sharp glare cutting through the babbling Scouts in the middle of the scene. From the fair amount of distance, they were sure the Captain noticed their shaking figures.

“It wasn—”

“She di—”

The Captain’s raised palm silenced both the excuses that came rushing out their mouths, clamping them shut in a split millisecond.

“Both of you—” He started, teeth gritting as he spoke. “No one gets a speck of lunch until you’ve cleaned this up.”

Resigned huffs and nods were their response, head hung low but burning glare for one another remained.

Her clammy hands clutched the fabric in a tighter vice, closed palms beginning to shake at the emotions that had invaded her mind.

Devon Janea was once again in a position she had promised herself to never indulge in— but as her eyes bore into the green cloth that held the symbol of freedom, her eyes began to sting, teeth in a compacted clench, causing a dull ache to reside in her mouth— an ache she couldn’t dare feel due to the greater torment, the object in her hands brought.

It was her old Scouts cape. She had kept it when they had announced the reinvention of the Survey Corps uniform. The cape meant a great deal to her yet every time she laid her eyes on it, nearly nothing joyful popped in her mind.

She despised the idea of hating this piece fabric— she hated it— but she somehow felt the need to.

All of the things that happened to her– good or bad, her cape hung on her shoulders and bore witness.

It was there— this old thing.

It was there when they went to battle mindless Titan’s outside of the walls. It was there when every stage of fear shot through her system every single time her squad-mates met their cruel demise.

In the times where she cried for her fallen comrades until the sun rose, she had hugged this piece of fabric to her chest, muffling her outmost despair.

It was there when she fell victim to Eren’s pranks and their childish fights. This was present in the time she had felt an outrageous amount of bliss regardless of the situation in the outside world– a time where all she thought about was surviving, with them.

But now— it was . . . gloomy.

A distant call from outside her window caught her attention and she immediately got to her feet, observing the armor that decorated her body. It was far from what they used to wear but nonetheless more efficient for their current predicament.

They were fighting humans now.

She had never thought this day would see the light but assumptions can always be shifted, can’t they?

It was baffling to her how they’d need more advanced and heavier equipment when it came to war against people in comparison to the weapons and wardrobe they utilized with Titans.

Big, scary, man-eating giants.

Her younger self would most probably shudder in fear if she saw her now. She’d ask her all these question in order to make sense of her actions and most likely pretend she understood when in fact, she’s been thinking of ways to turn her over onto a brighter leaf. 

As she tried to imitate a happy smile she used to carry, she could almost see her other self seething at the fabricated action. She gripped the straps of her black uniform, the material fitted like a second skin but very comfortable to move around in. 

With a last shake out of her doubtful thoughts, she grabbed the green cloak from the floor, hooking it across her chest while she ran down and into hell.

Time seemed to pass by quickly — that or Devon has been spacing out now and then as Commander Hange was explaining the plan of action. The parts Devon had caught irked her. 

“We’ll have to cover for Eren as much as we can . . .” Hange’s tired, but firm mutter echoed in the airship that has been prepared by Zeke Yeager and his most gracious disciples. 

“We have to assume that he’ll cause damages and openly declare war,” The commander nodded at them, her gaze flickered from one scout to another that surrounded the table in the middle of the room. “Jean, Connie, Sasha and Floch — watch out for enemies over at the west. Take half of Levi’s squad with you.” 

Devon watched the circle of her comrades as she rested her body on a nearby wall, eyes fleeting to Hange as she caught her gaze. 

“Devon,” The commanding tone in her voice caught Devon’s attention. “You and Mikasa are to find Eren — and once you do, keep close and make sure to have your eyes on him at all times.”

If it wasn’t for Devon’s self-proclamation to shut up and do as she’s told without complaints,, she would’ve jumped out this flying balloon hours ago. But, she matched Hange’s stoic glare, a nod confirming her cooperation was enough for the commander to continue her discussion.

In the corner of her eye, she could spot a figure walking towards her. She kept her gaze forward, clearing her throat once the said figure had stopped beside her.

“If you want to smack Eren, I won’t stop you,”

Be this a normal situation, Devon would no doubt laugh at Levi’s sudden statement. She twisted her neck to face him, she’s met with those steel, cool stare.

“I know.” She affirmed, folding her hands back, hiding the fidgeting of her fingers that had no plan on stopping until they’ve left this depressing island. “Maybe I will slap him later . . .”

She saw Captain Levi nodding along to her words, and despite not exactly saying anything else, Devon appreciated the random interaction that somehow calmed her nerves a little. 

The minutes of Hange talking was the only sound bouncing through the walls were indeed just minutes.

A deafening roar quaked the skies, Devon’s eyes shutting, hands coming up to cup her ears at the loud volume. 

Show time.

She stumbled at the front of the airship, hands finding support of its walls, her head peaked out the scene through the window. 

There he was. 

Or it.

The enormous Titan stood at an intimidating form of 15 meters, baring his muscled back to them. His roars continued to pierce their ear, making them flinch each time it rattled their hearing.

“There’s no time to waste!” Captain Levi’s command came riddling through all the commotion. “To your stations!” 

With that, the scouts saluted, each scrambling to get their equipment together as fast as they can. Devon instantly ran to her gear, hooking it around her waist. Her hands reached to take a hold of approximately ten thunderspears. The supposedly cool metal laid feverish on her palm but decided ignore it and resume to securing the heavy weapons on her shoulder.

Another angry roar and a series of frightened screams rattled her nerves yet she refused to waver at the thought of the situation outside.

“Mikasa,” Devon called, the attention of the raven haired girl turned to her, nodding. “C’mon, let’s finish this.”

Fire — blood — screams — explosions.

The list was dreadfully endless. With Mikasa to her right, they swung above the unfathomable condition of the town. Devon tried to avoid looking below but agonizing wails were impossible to ignore. 

She knew it would be a mistake to succumb to the temptation and just peak downwards. Beyond the apathetic eyes she had been giving nowadays, was that frightened little girl hidden behind Wall Rose. 

Looking down would mean remembering. 

It was unclear whether or not she opposed to it or not. Does she truly want to revisit that horrible time in her life in a crucial time like this?

“Don’t.”

Her thoughts lurched back at Mikasa’s sudden intrusion. Devon felt her eyes burn at the side of her face, urging her to return the gaze. Mikasa had a glint of tenderness in her eyes as she stared at Devon.

“Looking won’t help anyone.” As if she had read Devon’s mind, had her thinking if her conflicted thoughts showed on her face as well. 

“It won’t.” She agreed, exhaling a breath she wasn’t aware she was holding. “Stand on that pillar, try to catch Eren’s attention — I’ll do the same on the that building at the left. Be careful not to be noticed by anyone else.”

The order came flying out of her mouth as Eren’s Titan form became more prominent to their vision. Mikasa swung to the direction Devon had ordered, leaving the latter to advance to her position. 

Devon’s boots slid on the worn down roof of a house, fragile bricks now easy to pick apart, resembling a puzzle containing several missing pieces. She stalked towards the edge of the roof, squatting down to uselessly watch the treacherous scene unfold in front of her. 

Eren turned, his eyes skimming through the civilians aimlessly racing away from him. Devon noticed how the large titan spun his head towards the right.

She had to squint to confirm that he did, in fact acknowledge Mikasa’s presence. A sigh of relief escaped her as she was sure of the exchange. 

Past her relief was a gash of radiant light amongst the cauldron dark covered skies. Her eyes could hardly accommodate the brightness that invaded her sights but she could make out a form of a skeleton, slowly evolving with flesh. 

She stumbled back at the thunderous punch the creature caught on its face. The tissues that haven’t fully developed yet squashed against Eren’s gigantic fist. Devon’s resistance to look away increased, with the amount of blows Eren delivered to the primitive titan as it wriggled uselessly below him.

A shot of a rifle snapped her attention away from the ongoing uproar to the source of the sudden gunshot. The thick layers of fog beneath the houses made it difficult to spot anything from where she sat.

At that moment, she hoped that Sasha and the others were able to place signal lights to ensure the clearance of enemies. She swayed her head hoping to catch a glimpse at anything suspicious from that direction but she was met with darkness and smog. 

Devon gasped, hand abruptly clutching at the end of the roof as the ground trembled, followed by a loud groan which brought her attention back to Eren.

Her eyes widened at his state. His stomach now impaled in the center by a large pointy crystal lifting his limp body in the air. The titan seemed to have completed it’s transformation as it now stood, smoke seeping out of its shoulder, waiting for its arms to grow back. 

She had never seen anything quite like it, despite being able to witness numerous unbelievable things in her days. The titan seemed to possess to ability to create structures using hardening, allowing it to make to spike it used to pierce Eren. 

The strength this Titan possessed chilled her blood, instinctively look towards Mikasa. Luckily, she had her eyes on her too. And beyond the disaster, the distress that covered her features relaxed as Mikasa brought her palm up as a symbol to wait.

She turned her head back, fists balling tighter as the Titan grew a hammer on her hand, clutching the long handle. Devon repressed the urge to step in as it barreled the object towards an unmoving Eren, successfully smashing the crystal altogether. 

Devon’s panic simmered down as a slightly smaller version of Eren’s titan emerged amidst the smoke. 

Continuous flashes of light and booms of canons interrupted the fleeting solace Devon felt. Somehow, with all of those heavy weaponry, she was finally able to see the series of soldiers lined up nearly in front of Eren.

She saw his fingertips turn icy, incasing them in Titan hardening as he came up to cup his nape. He growled at his attackers, not noticing how to white fleshed titan swung back its hammer. He turned too late, only being able to provide his arms as a weak protectant. 

Devon’s patience wore thin as she merely continued to watch as Eren was rid of his hands. 

“The War Hammer Titan is a monster!” A joyful screech amongst the gloomy atmosphere pierced her ears.

War Hammer 

“That’s what it’s called . . .” She muttered to herself, scowling at the name. “How corny.”

“It’s really going to finish off!”

Whoever it was, Devon wanted nothing more than to shut them up. Anxiety welled up inside her as the War Hammer Titan raised its weapon again, slowing as a figure — Eren  — resurfaced from his Titan form.

She couldn’t help the feeling of a hefty weight being lifted out from her shoulders as she set eyes on his figure. 

“Usurper, Eren Yeager,” The War Hammer spoke. “Do you have any last words?”

Although she could only see his back, a long inhale propelled her lips. 

“Now or never, Mikasa.”

Loud and clear, Devon waited for it. As signaled, Mikasa’s form came rushing in the scene, almost too fast to be caught by the naked eye. She raised her arms, plowing a hefty sequence of thunderspears in the air and into the War Hammer’s neck, slotting it perfectly. 

The release of the clip prompted its ear-splitting eruptions, blowing off its nape. Mikasa spun her body, eyes spotting Devon’s, an understanding nod between the two was exchanged and that was all it took.

She went off flying towards Eren, her heart pounding louder into her ears as she grew closer to his form. Before she could muster anything to say, Eren spoke.

“You guys actually came. . .” 

Despite the lack of emotion on his face, Devon could hear the faint surprise in his tone. An unknown feeling of displeasure spanned on her chest as she examined the side of Eren’s face.

She noted the few but undeniably noticeable changes in his appearance compared  to the last time she has seen him, reminding her of the many days they have been apart. His hair had grown past his shoulders, little stubbles have made it’s on his upper lip and — she would love to be wrong . . . she hopes she was because if she wasn’t mistaken, the vibrant turquoise hue in his eyes had dimmed into a spiritless pair of orbs.

The frown on her face didn’t falter, choosing to finally respond to him, “They were worried about you.” The admission seemed half-hearted yet she felt the need to tell him that in the moment. 

“Eren,” In other circumstances, the hammering in her chest would absolutely delight her, but the one she was currently having flooded her with outmost dread, eyes piercing in to Eren’s own. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done?”

Devon found herself crouching beside him, as if he wouldn’t hear him if she stood. “You’ve murdered all these people —” She had to stop speaking, aiding the ache of her mouth as the words dawned to her. “No amount of reasoning could save you from this." 

The heavy sigh she released helped lightened the tightness on her chest, looking at her feet, the heat of Eren’s Titan flesh seeping through her body. 

“Eren,” The tense exchange was cut short as Mikasa landed beside Devon, calling his attention. “Please, let’s go home . . .”

“It’s not over yet.” At his claim, both girls’ features morphed into confusion.

“What —” Devon’s eyes widened, stopping the query on her tongue. “Motherfucker — “

The ground rumbled along with the rise of the War Hammer Titan.  Slowly, it started getting up, its palm pressing against its head, pushing it back onto the body effortlessly.

“That’s impossible!” The incredulous tone Mikasa expressed was no different from the look that Devon gave to astonishing incident playing before their eyes. “I blew off its nape!”

“And I crushed it with all my strength,” Eren added, his monotone voice unwavering as he studied the titan. 

“Mikasa!” Devon’s body acted before her mind, eyes laying on the sparks blossoming on thee Titan’s hand, a crossbow has come to life. 

As an instinct, she grabbed Eren, a hand coming up to his waist, the other pointing her ODM gear at the first concrete she looked at. She fired the equipment, grapple shooting out. When it hooked on the infrastructure, she wasted no time to tug Eren out of the titan flesh and onto the air with her, just in time before the arrow hit their previous place. 

It had been several minutes since the Scouts retreated back into the airship. Eren was able to devour the War Hammer, nearly getting to the Jaw Titan if it wasn’t for Reiner Braun’s unexpected appearance.

 The loud cheers resonated along the walls, bouncing back outside as they celebrated a mission success.

Devon would be lying if she said she doesn’t feel the uneasiness leaving her chest, as her head weaved through the crowd, eyeing everyone’s condition. 

Thankfully, no one was hurt, perhaps a bit of cuts and scratches but besides that, they were all well. 

A smile slithered it’s way to her lips, watching her comrades. Floch leads the bunch, raising his fist in the air. “It’s a huge victory! The New Eldians Empire ends in victory!” He declared, earning gleeful shouts of affirmation. 

His words, however, stabbed Devon back into a harsh reality, face twisting into a crestfallen frown. Determined to keep her thoughts at bay, glanced to the side, finding Jean, Connie and Sasha huddled close to the open door.

She sauntered to them, resting on her knees to be at their level. “I’m so glad you’re all safe . . .” She muttered, a grateful gleam in her eyes sparkled, throwing her arms around the three. 

Sasha, being at the middle, curled both her hands  around Devon’s waist, the other two doing the same in their respective side. 

Connie, of course, had to clap back at the intimate moment, mumbling against Devon’s shoulder. “You smell like shit, Janea . . .”

They laughed, shoulders shaking. Devon extended her arm to smack Connie behind his head, making the latter flinch but grin as he spotted the glare she sent him. 

“You’re one to talk,” She scoffed, rolling her eyes. “You look like shit.”

He stuck his tongue out, shaking his head at the brunette. Said brunette merely smirked before standing, landing a soft pat at each of their heads. “Good job, guys . . . I’ll just go check on Eren.” 

They nodded simultaneously, understanding the look on Devon’s face as she turned back towards the hallway but not before hearing Sasha’s enthusiastic yell.

“Let’s celebrate and eat a lot when we get home!”

Devon looked back over her shoulder, flashing her a bright grin and nodded. “I call pork stew!” She laughed, heart warming at Sasha’s beaming smile.

As she went on her way, wooden flooring creaked beneath the weight of her boots, approaching the men contained in the area. Her eyes wandered down, noting how Eren was sat on the floor, a scout pointing a gun at him while Captain Levi glared right through his soul.

“Captain,” She announced her presence, garnering closer to them, inclining her head as a sign of respect

Levi didn’t look away, “Cheer up,” He spat instead, “Everything happened like you wanted,”

Maybe it was her buzzing mind, or the overall exhaustion finally catching up to her. But until she followed their gaze, she didn’t notice Zeke Yeager perched on the wall at the end of the hall, steam leaching out from where his missing limbs were once attached. 

“Jenea,” At Levi’s voice, Devon snapped up to meet his eyes. “Bind him with this,”

Before she could react, Levi had thrust a wheeled rope on her hands, leaving her with no choice but to grip the braided strands. She didn’t get a chance to respond, seeing the Captain and his fellow squad member exit the room.

Suddenly, Devon recalls the short exchange she had with Levi before leaping into battle, The thought caused her to peer down at the same person that was their topic of interest was now at her hostage. 

Eren was already staring back at her, making her eyes narrow the longer she looked into his. The turmoil sprouting at her conscience wasn’t a pleasant indication. Yet, she shut her eyes for a moment hoping to calm her aggression.

When she felt it was enough, she opened them back up, swiveling her head to Eren’s direction. He had his wrists offered to her, beckoning her to get to it. 

Without a word spoken, Devon crouched down and began to swathe his hands together, placing a cloth between his palms to prevent him from slashing himself. 

“I’m not going to turn into a titan in an airship.”

Devon kept her concentration at the knot she was forming, grasped pulling against the binds, further restraining his movements.

“You’ll never know,” She whispered, retaining her hands on his wrist despite accomplishing her task.

The silence was unbearable, yet Devon resisted the impulsive sentences bunching up her mouth. She wanted him to say something— anything that could possibly tame the anger she had for him.

Flickering lights on the hallway continued, baring the stiff aura that pattered heavily upon the narrow space. Devon and Eren very much indulged in their staring contest.

It was akin to glasses at the edge of the table, waiting for one to finally fall and shatter into microscopic pieces.

As aggravating as the soundless room is, Devon’s pride was far too great to break it, eyes boring into the orbs she once adored. She began to think to herself of the things that might have happened for Eren to be brought back to her this lifeless.

The more time she invested looking at him, the wrenched ache in her chest became torturous. She wasn’t entirely aware what came over her, but her hand was already poised up in the air, her palm connecting against Eren’s cheek.

A graciously blaring slap, echoed against the room, probably heard around the whole airship. His head banging into the wall next to him, relishing the strength of the contact

Even being the one to strike, Devon’s hand burned at the impact, making hiss, the other hand shooting up to soothe her stinging palm.

Her eyes were blurry when she looked back to Eren, cheek had started to redden. All the reserved attitude she had been building up the whole day demolished simply by entertaining Eren Yeager’s presence.

She knew it wouldn’t be pleasant but she failed to recognize exactly how distressing it would be. Her chest was heaving, palm clawing at the skin, hoping for the ache to lighten.

“Devon,”

She was wrong. The initial thought of having him talk flew out her mind when she finally heard his voice. In the quite space they stood in, it seemed annoying loud. Despite merely whispering her name, it was like he had yelled in her ear, which made her cover them as she was currently doing.

“No—” Her voice shook, failing to maintain the authority in her tone. “Shut the fuck up, Yegear.”

She spun on her heel, turning her back on him, rolling her head up to gaze at the wooden ceiling. Her breath was still uneven as she exhaled, running a trembling hand along her locks.

“Wha–what did you hope to achieve?” She asked, pouring out frustration at every word. “I really want to understand— just please . . .”

I don’t want to hate you, she wanted to say but decided against it. Deeming the phrase inappropriate for the situation.

Without even having her eyes on him, Eren was well aware of her raging desperation. He knew why she was insistent and what exactly she wanted from him.

But all he had to say was, “It’s for everyone’s safety.”

If Devon was a volcano, she would’ve exploded right then and there. The bubbling vexation coursing through her veins made her head spin.

“Never in my life . . . and I mean never — have I despised a phrase as much!” She chuckled, no humor could be detected in the smile she flashed Eren when she turned around. “Is that it? Does that make all of this— justifiable?” 

The blaze looming up her throat whenever she became a tad mindful of his eyes were indescribable. It infuriated her as she took in the state of the pair. So much that she felt to need to shield them from her vision. 

“I don’t know what else you’re asking of me.” 

At his blunt statement, Devon had difficulties deciphering which of her swirling emotions she wanted to project due to the outrage and melancholy submerging her sane conscience. 

The little energy she had left prompted her to merely gape at his slouched figure, knotted wrists sat patiently at his lap. She lost the ability to make sense of his actions as his glare punctured her soul, sending an uncomfortable twinge in her heart.

“What happened to you?” Her hand slid to her neck, rubbing soothing circles to aid her shuddering tone. “I was angry the night before we came here . . . and even then, I still hoped for your safety— I hated that you left but I continued to believe that you had a good motive,” She willed herself to keep her eyes on him despite the impending urge to do otherwise. “But seeing you now — I’m beginning to doubt your stand in all of this . . .” 

Being honest was something she wanted to do, even if she was in no way prepared for Eren’s response. She had to let him know as much as she needed proper answers to the swarm of questions she had thrown at him. 

She touched her shoulder, wringing out the knot that was starting to form, as she ignored the noticeable tremble of her fingers. “You showed no mercy to anyone in this city — “

“No one deserved mercy — “

“Not even those children?” She was quick to surface the topic again, wide eyed as she awaited his reply. 

It was one that made her heart stop, breath hitched at her throat. 

“We were children too when something similar to this happened, weren’t we?” The way he delivered his question with no anger, but pure confusion halted Devon’s arguments, instead opting to study his expressions.

He spoke of nothing else but truth. They were children when Wall Maria was breached by the Armored Titan. In spite of not being a resident of that town, she was coincidently present when it occurred.

A dangerous chill cascaded along her spine at the memory of her younger sister. The image burned into her skull for eternity, how her little body got brutally smashed by a massive concrete that wiped out every thing in the perimeter she was standing on.

Devon lived with the regret of not being beside her, and letting her run further ahead without knowing it would be the sole cause of her demise. 

“And we weren’t at fault just like those children.” Her resolve quaked in the slightest but she stood her ground. “They didn’t have any idea what was happening — They were just as clueless as us . . .”

Exhaustion was taking over Devon’s sight, far too tired to have a sensible conversation with Eren except the stubborn part of her refused to waver. 

“Will you really no tell me?” Her persistence was starting to sound desperate, as she searched his eyes for the tiniest bit of sparkle she used to admire. Eyes drooped, her hands tugged at the rope on his wrists, pulling him closer as if she’d see what she was seeking in this proximity. 

She nearly smacked herself at how foolish her thoughts had become. Perhaps it came from the perplexing sentiments she had for the brunette, those sleepless nights her mind wandered to him, as she sat on her bed waiting for him to make his way back. 

Devon had buried emotions she deemed improper, and became more secluded when Eren left. She barely opened up to any of her close friends, fixing her face into a defaulted smile at times she felt the most unwell. 

To see Eren give her the look she had been dealing with every time she stared at her reflection shoved her into a state of panic, immediately ambushing him with questions she knew would go unanswered. 

With a deep sigh, she dropped her hand from its place, resting it on her side. “Alright . . . it would be a few hours until we reach Parad — “

A powerful bang startled them, Devon’s heart lurching on her chest as it had dawned to her that it was a gunshot. She stood rigid, unable to function despite the sudden commotion happening just behind the door at her right. 

Fear rippled through her system as the furious yells turned into desperate pleas. Her throat ran dry at the single name a mix of voices shouted.

“SASHA!”

That fear was physically resurfaced as her palms suddenly felt damp, blood turning sickeningly cold. She eventually willed herself to snap out of it, grabbing the doorknob, almost flinching at the freezing kiss on her fingertips.

Too occupied by her thoughts, she hadn’t realized, she had pushed the door open until Connie’s deafening yell broke her cloudy mind.

“DEVON—” Her eyes snapped towards the panicked voice, unable to ignore it. A wish for it all to go away was the first thing that came to her as she eyed the fimilliar head of reddish brown hair that laid unmoving on the floor.

She struggled to react, helplessly trudging towards Sasha. “Sasha—” A shake at the shoulder was her initial response, shock still fresh in her mind. “Hey— Sasha! Hold on, okay? Stay with me—” Devon’s palm snaked to grasp Sasha’s, pressing harder, hoping to transfer some of her warmth to her terrifyingly algid skin.

Devon’s lips came down to where their hands were connected, breathing tepid blows onto Sasha’s palm.

“Nico—”

Hope sparked in Devon’s chest at the sound of Sasha’s hoarse voice, deflating the moment she notcied the severity of her condition.

“Is dinner ready?” The sob Devon released pained her commarades as they watched on, tears falling from their eyes as well.

“Sasha— Sasha . . .” Devon’s pleas grew hopless, as she delivered an impervious squeeze on her palm. “Please— don’t leave me . . .”

Sasha’s name spilled from her lips repeatedly, noticing the delirious swarm in her eyes, knuckles bathed in unceasing downpour of hurt dripping from her green orbs.

An unbelievablely excruciating pang barreled on her chest, as she felt the weak grasp of Sasha’s hand turn limp on her own.

“N— NO! PLEASE . . .” Fright surged on her bones, shaking hands slamming onto Sasha’s shoulders. Devon shook her still form, movements lumbered due to the amount of tears clouding her vision. The headache she had earlier worsened terrible, as it was forced to process the horrific scene laid out in front of her.

The tips of her fingers felt numb, as she caressed Sasha’s freezing skin, index and middle digit crawling up the side of her neck, gently searching for her pulse.

Although hope was wearing thin, she still found the strength to press at the spot, pausing for a second before shaking her head.

Connie’s hand that was applying pressure to the gaping wound on her abdomen loosen, as he drew in a sharp breath.

Jean, still having his ears shielded by his palms, had found the courage to turn around to see a heartbreaking image that will surely be imprinted on his brain for all eternity.

A series of loud cries erupted around her, making her realize that she had stopped weeping. The weight on her chest still unbearable yet she felt far too numb to acknowledge it.

Her eyes drifted to the door she had been in before the tragic accident, disappointment bubbling up her throat, not at Eren but at herself because even then, she couldn’t bring herself to be angry at him.

A single question hung lax of the fragments of her wits.

Why?

Why did Eren choose to do what he did? Why did Sasha have to be a victim of this monstrosity?

No doubt, this war was to further worsen, Sasha won’t be the last one to suffer the end of this bargain.

The fire of unwavering adherence set ablaze in her remaining morals, determined to unseal Eren’s true motives for his repeated sentiment; for everyone’s safety.

Eren was not an enemy, but he does serve as a threath if he continues to feed them obscure reassurances that might put them in a danger like this. The enemy was the thoughts boiling in his head, caging him alone with those possibly sinister notions.

Devon had a great hunch that Eren gives vague answers because he was hinding something important, a plan he knew they wouldn’t agree on.

Perhaps it was her drained sanity thinking, but Devon have passed the stage of giving a damn as she let the thought worm into her brain.

If she can’t beat the enemy, she would have to join them.

[hellshire-harlot]

Hazbin Hotel/Helluva Boss theory bundle

Again, mostly focusing on Heaven and the angels.

-Heaven is full of snobby, elitist, holier-than-though asshole types. The main purveyors of this mentality are the Cherubs and other Heavenborn beings, such as the Original Angels.

-It is my personal theory that God in this universe is incredibly corrupt and/or hypocritical. 

-I like to think that we’ll eventually get to meet Adam and Eve in the future. They’ll either be in a position of extreme power in Heaven, or they’ll be powerful demons in Hell. If they’re demons, I headcanon that Lilith and Eve are friends.

-I have a few personal voice headcanons for some of the overlords! These are: Markiplier as Lucifer, Madame Macabre as Lilith, Melanie Martinez as Velvet, and Lady Dimitrescu as Rosie.

-Heaven is constantly at a pleasant, warm temperature, like a warm spring day. Oftentimes you can feel a warm breeze if you stay in one place for a while.

-Heaven is sort of an elite club in the sense that everything there is decadent and ostentatious to a fault. If it can be blinged out in Heaven, it will be.

-Imps are probably fallen Cherubs, and I’m curious to see what will happen to Cleetus, Collin, and Keenie.

-Heaven is basically one big pyramid scheme. Literally every Heavenborn person is 100% willing to use others to advance, and are more than willing to condemn them to a punishment, as seen with Deerie.

-The sunrises and sunsets in Heaven are the most beautiful in all of existence. It’s a common pastime for couples in Heaven to watch these from grassy parks, and for angels to fly among the clouds during these times.

-Everywhere in Heaven, a choir can be heard singing various church hymns. It’s actually quite beautiful and lovely if you stop to listen. The opening sequence to Bioshock Infinite is the closest I can find to how I headcanon the choir to sound.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yYpAOY-Cy8s&list=PLNWZdNheFEeqj1N5nhSRHV3caoS1qe03Z&index=4

-There is a rebellion of sorts within Heaven, consisting mainly of Earthborn angels who see how corrupt Heaven is and want to reform it for future generations. I like to think that Charlie and her team would ally with this rebellion eventually.

-Most people have to wear very long, modest clothing in Heaven, and there is a LOT of misogyny present.

-If it IS possible to redeem sinners, I like to think that by the end of the show, a stay at Charlie’s chain of hotels will be mandatory for all sinners in Hell to see if they can be redeemed. Eventually the number of hotels and the rate at which they redeem souls will overcome the amount of people getting damned on a yearly basis.

-Most Heavenborn beings are actually quite kind to Earthborn angels in Heaven, seeing them as the best of the human race for ascending to Heaven. It is not uncommon for an Earthborn and Heavenborn to fall in love.

-Yes, before you ask, I absolutely DO believe that an angel falling in love with a demon is grounds for that angel getting damned to Hell (And yes, I HAVE made a few characters based off of this premise. I like forbidden romance, sue me.).

-Exterminators absolutely LOVE what they do and wouldn’t give it up for the world. Being they’re treated like heaven’s celebrities and live their entire lives in the lap of luxury, why would they? Besides, they too see Hell as an irredeemable cesspool.

-My ideal finale for Hazbin would be Charlie and the rest of the cast desperately fighting against the forces of Heaven in order to grant redeemed souls entry. We would see every character’s max power/true forms, including Loona, the Imps, and Charlie. And just at the end, where all hope seems lost and even Alastor is no longer smiling, Lucifer and Lilith step up to the plate and join the duel. What?! I really love epic battle scenes!

[threadofdestiny]

Magnolia (Bakugou x f!Reader)

Feudal Japan AU

Shogun!Bakugou x Midoriya’s sister!reader

Summery: Her mother, lady Midoriya Inko, had once told her that the gods had predestined a path for every single person. All she had to do was follow the path and trust that it would lead her to happiness. But how could (Y/N) find happiness in a political formed marriage with her brother’s rival, a man known for being brutal and cold hearted?

Warnings: sexual content in later chapters / period-typical-sexism / strong language / violence / Drama / Angst / Fluff / Slow Burn/ political marriage / Reader is Izuku's sister / period-typical-discriptions like vague mentions of longer hair to form typical hairstyles or specific wardrobe / Bakugou is not good at feelings / Bakugou is a mean, explosive boi / third-person perspektive

Wattpad 

AO3

If someone wants to be tagged, just let me know :)

Taglist: @bakugous-mamas​, @bnhastories​, @brittkimm​, @ ellieitstimetosleep

Chapter 1, Chapter 3, Chapter 5

Chapter 4

Turn of events

For a moment, (Y/N) watched her personal maid through the reflective surface of her mirror, while she tried to force herself to relax her tense shoulders. She hardly noticed how Mina gradually pinned a part of her hair into an elaborate hairstyle, to prepare her mistress for tonight's festivity. With glazed eyes, the young lady let her gaze slid downward to look at the oblong box on her dressing table. A silver hairpin adorned with dark green and rose-colored gemstones rested on the silk cushion of the oil-finished wooden box, sparkling promisingly in the flickering candlelight. The hue of the stones reminded her of the kimono she had worn during her performance at the imperial court. Even the floral pattern of the main piece resembled the flowering magnolia blossoms she had worn in her hair that day. The attention to detail was so shockingly accurate that it made (Y/N) shiver when she had first looked down at the piece of jewelry.

It had been the first time she had stood so obviously in public. Her introduction to society had lasted only a few moments, and yet her future husband had been able to notice so many specific details of her attire. The thought that Bakugou had been there, standing in the crowd as she strode towards the emperor, made the fine hairs on her upper arm stand on end. Goosebumps littered her soft skin, sending anxious shivers down her spine. How perceptive did a person have to be if such small details had stuck in his mind?

"Would you like to wear the hairpin tonight, Miss (Y/N)?", Mina asked curiously, after she stepped away from her mistress to follow her gaze towards the pretty jewelry. Caught off guard, the youngest Midoriya looked up, as she thought about how to answer the question her bright natured maid had phrased eagerly.

Was it too daring to wear that piece of jewelry right away? Or would Bakugou be offended if she didn't wear it tonight? Every decision she made could cause her to sink or rise in his esteem. The uncertainty stirred her eerily. It wasn't even clear if he would really attend today's festivity, and yet (Y/N) couldn't help but to anticipate that he would.

With fluttering eyelids, the youngest Midoriya took a deep breath before finally making a hesitant decision: "...Y-yes... However... do me a favor and lay out a warming kimono in the appropriate color scheme to go with it. The festivities will drag on until late after sunset and I don't want to catch a cold.", she answered nervously, before she lost herself again in her agitated thoughts.

Bakugou was like a parasite that had taken up residence in her mind and it was so incredibly frustrating that they had exchanged less than five sentences with each other until now. Every single gesture, every single word of his she had thought up to the smallest detail. Inwardly pleading that she would find some mannerisms in his behavior to fuel her hope that may had passed her mind beforehand. All she knew was that he was a stubborn and brooding man. Hardly a friendly word had he uttered in her presence until now. His posture seemed entirely dismissive and his vermilion eyes calculating and temperamental, while his reputation makes her tremble with fear at night when she was alone.

And yet, the youngest Midoriya caught herself wishing that she had a chance to learn more about her future husband. That he would also attend the festival tonight. Even if she would only be lucky enough to catch a glimpse of him. She wanted, no, she had to know what kind of person she would marry soon, in order to preserve her own salvation.

Despite the fact that (Y/N) hardly knew Bakugou, he was able to confuse her beyond measure. How did someone manage to appear so distant and brusque and yet be so attentive and prepossessing at the same time? Was she that blinded by the wish that there could be more behind their future union than duty to their country? That she had already caught his eyes before the emperor had ordered their engagement? Was it naive to hope that he concealed someone behind his cold-blooded facade she could learn to love someday? That he hid a man behind his cruel mask that was capable to love her as well? But what else could she have done if she wanted to hope for a better, love filled future?

Her destiny was already sealed. She did not have the power to change it. However, it would have done no good to condemn her future, even if her unpredictable fate instilled her with immense fear. (Y/N) didn't want to give up that easily. Even if the stars seemed to stand at a bad constellation, when it regards her future. All she could think about was her fiancé, hoping that she could have a chance for a good life by his side.

.

.

.

Even though (Y/N) had hoped to at least catch a single glimpse of Bakugou Katsuki, now that her wish had been granted, the young shogun felt even more unattainable. Like two identical magnetic poles pointing towards one another, they repelled each other, both shifting into groups that seemed reluctant to connect. It was not that he explicitly avoided her and her brother. It was just that the young shogun hadn't really moved from his spot at the edge of the celebration to even approach her or Izuku, since the emperor had officially proclaimed her brother as his heir at the beginning of the evening.

Since then, every noble had seized their chance to win Izuku over in some way or another. They had tried to get on her brothers good side, buttered him up now that it was clear that he would be taking the throne in the future. All except for Bakugou. The disinterest he showed made her feel insecure, even if she could guess that he was not a person who liked to occupy himself with groveling courtier's. It made her question her thoughts she had while she had prepared herself for the evening. That maybe he just wasn't interested in dealing with her and her family in general.

For hours, the young debutante had caught herself looking steadily for the blond man, asking herself what she was doing wrong or if he truly would want to get to know her. She had inwardly prayed that he would join them for a moment, but Bakugou remained grimly in one of the more secluded corners near the entrance that led deeper into the more private parts of the imperial gardens, while other nobles flocked around the newly announced heir of the imperial throne.

Together with his companion Kirishima, and surprisingly at times the easygoing noble, Kaminari Denki, he had spent his time with light conversations, while he drove away other approaching persons with gloomy looks. It was strange to observe the stoic man interacting with two such lively individuals, but apparently both noblemen felt comfortable enough to even laugh in the young shogun's presence. This picture which simply did not want to be reconciled with his bad reputation, surprised (Y/N) and made her wish all the more to find out more details about this man.

But of course, contrary to her wishes, the youngest Midoriya had to spent the entire evening obediently following her brother, like the well groomed lady she was. It would not be proper to run off without an escort, especially if she had to represent herself at her best, while Izuku was too busy filling the role of the guest of honor for the evening.

The head of her family had been strangely distant after the negotiations with Bakugou, which only fueled (Y/N)'s insecurity's all the more. While he normally didn't neglect his duties as her guardian, he seemed to be distracted by his own thoughts more often than usual. He was more inattentive than typically. In addition, all the noblemen seemed to distract him even more during the festivities. So much so that he didn't even notice how one of his former fellow pupils had repeatedly approached her in an unpleasant manner.

A few other lords from his years as novices, had engaged Izuku after some time in a deeper conversation as Mineta approaches grew bolder with each attempt. Spurred on by her brother's inattention, Lord Mineta had at some point begun to occasionally brush the fabric of her robe almost as if by accident. He did not seem to notice that his advances were unpleasant to the youngest Midoriya. No matter how much she tried to retreat discreetly, he followed her almost instantly.

Swallowing, (Y/N) dodged the obnoxious heavyset man's gaze as she felt a few stray fingers brush against her wrist. Seeking help, the young debutante looked to her brother, but she was crestfallen to find that he had turned away from her, not sensing his sisters distress. Even his interlocutors also appeared not to notice the man's intrusive gestures, while they were too busy reminiscing old adventures they had endured together.

"You are truly beautiful. I hope my parents are able to put in a good word for me. Maybe they can negotiate an union between us." Mineta spoke in a nasal tone of voice, while he again discreetly tried to step a little closer to her. Surprised, (Y/N)'s eyes widened when she heard the man's statement. Did he missed that the youngest Midoriya was already promised to another man? Or did he not fear the wrath of her fiance?

Wanting to correct the emerging misunderstanding, (Y/N) discreetly shook her head, before starting to speak in a soft manner:"... M-My Lord...M-My apologies... but-", (Y/N) began, struggling for words, as she unobtrusively tried to gain distance between the man and herself without drawing any inappropriate attention to them. She broke off her sentence when she felt several eyes resting on her figure, for fear that these received a false image of the situation. Her fingers clutched at the crystal glass of her refreshment as she continued to stubbornly gaze at the floor, thinking hardly how she should form an appropriate sentence without causing a scene. She felt left alone and helpless, but what was she supposed to do in such a situation without causing a commotion? She was a unmarried woman surrounded by powerful men who did not like to see a lady rebel.

What would her fiancé say if she misbehaved? Defending herself was out of the question in public. She couldn't just kick Mineta in the shins, even if she wanted to. Her behavior could damage her family's reputation.

Due to the fact that (Y/N) was looking for a way out, she did not notice how Mineta tried to approach her again: "You really do smell dreamy!", Mineta's unpleasant voice rang out against her ear as he leaned in to her once more. Wincing, she gasped in disgust, while she abruptly jerked back. Her fingers lost their grip on her drink for a tiny moment as she recoiled, causing the entire contents to spill onto her own garments. The clink of the glass falling on the ground beneath her feet finally made Izuku and his conversation partners turn towards her in confusion, but at that moment she wished she could have sank into the ground rather than be the center of attention. Embarrassed and close to tears the youngest Midoriya took another step back while looking at the damage on her kimono. All at once the pressure of the last few days became impossible to bear, while she looked down at herself, starting to tremble.

"(Y/N), are you alright?," she heard her brother's concerned voice rang out. Instead of being glad that he was finally paying attention to her again, his words seemed to her like the last straw that broke the camel's back, because, no, nothing was alright. But who cared that a young unmarried girl began to realize that the pressures of society weighed far heavier than she had expected, even after she had worked so hard on herself. No one had prepared her for the emotional chaos that would await her once she was introduced to society. Who would have thought that emotions and rational thinking could mess her up so badly? Moreover, she had grown up so stupidly sheltered that all of a sudden everything felt so incredibly overwhelming.

With trembling lips, (Y/N) briefly glanced once at Mineta before looking at her brother and finally shaking her head barely visible. At that moment, the situation just became too much for her. She was afraid that if she continued to stay in that place, she would burst into tears in front of their company. Taking a step back, she mustered up her courage to speak: "E-excuse me, please. I'll go clean my kimono!", she breathed with as much decorum as she could muster before instinctively turning on her heel all at once and ultimately disappearing briskly into the crowd. Had she not been so upset, she probably would have registered that she had run past an enraged Bakugou just a few feet from her point of origin, who was stomping furiously toward the small group. The youngest Midoriya was so agitated, however, that everything around her began to blur behind a veil of tears. Without thinking about the potential consequences, she fled as inconspicuously as possible to the more secluded area of the gardens to retreat behind the high hedges.

.

.

.

With a clean handkerchief, (Y/N) tried to pat the tears away from her wet cheeks after she had rubbed the stain from the expensive fabric of her attire. She was incredibly disappointed in herself. The whole situation had been so incredibly overwhelming, but she should have tried to keep calm and yet she had not been able to stand it any longer. Now she was alone, sitting on the stone facade of an ornate fountain in a secluded part of the imperial gardens, completely frustrated with her own behavior. The tall hedges that surrounded her, swallowed most of the sounds coming from the celebration. Trying to let the soft splashing of the small fountain calm her senses somewhat, she breathed in the fresh evening air, while the small lights on the surface of the water provided enough light to keep her from sitting there completely in darkness. Sinking into self-pity, the young girl sobbed out once again.

Suddenly a crack which seemed to come from a breaking twig disturbed the silence behind her. Startled, (Y/N) wheeled around, shocked to realize how much darker this place was compared to the festival area illuminated by the lanterns. Nonetheless, she recognized how a man unknown to her slowly stepped into the clearing. An uncomfortable shiver ran down her spine as she rose from her seated position, pressing her handkerchief against her quivering chest.

"Ah, honored Miss Midoriya, what a delightful coincidence to have found you! Your brother is already beside himself with worry!", he greeted her in an emphatically friendly manner as he moved ever so slightly closer towards her. In the shadows of the clearing, his features were a little harder to make out. For a moment she might have thought the man could have been Izuku himself based on his hairstyle, but his face was one she had never seen before. Dark eyes, which were framed by equally dark hair, looked at her insistently, as the man slowly but steadily approached her.

"Excuse me, but I don't remember us being introduced, My Lord.", breathed the youngest Midoriya. Protectively, (Y/N) pressed her bent forearms against her throbbing chest as she thought in alarm about how to escape this situation as quickly as possible. Despite his friendly posture, the man frightened her. The thought that she, an unmarried, betrothed lady, could be discovered alone with another man in a place like this caused panic to spread through her body. She could be accused of immorality if she was found here. That could clearly damage her brother's reputation, as the new heir to the throne. Not to mention, she was troubled by the thought of how Bakugou would react when he heard of this situation. Would he direct his anger at her entire family when he learned of this matter?

"Ahh, forgive me. My name is Shindo Yo. I am a good acquaintance of your brother!", he replied while he indicated a friendly bow. His smile spread across his face as he tilted his head to the side to keep her in view. He was an acquaintance of Izuku? Then why had she never heard of his name before? Normally, her brother was someone who was very talkative when it came to describing people he had already had the pleasure of meeting.

Swallowing, (Y/N) nodded cautiously before trying to discreetly circle the young man, without getting closer to him. "I see... T-Thank you for pointing out that he was looking for me then. I should return to him as soon as possible, my lord!", she breathed affirmatively, trying to end the conversation as quickly as possible. Before the young Midoriya could scurry past him, however, calloused fingers had closed around her wrist all at once. Gasping, the young debutante jerked her head around to look up at the man in panic. Without (Y/N) being able to react in time, Shindo pulled her towards him with a jerk, so that the impact against his muscular body caused a brief dizziness in her head.

"Ahh, I'm sorry, young miss. But I'm afraid I won't be able to let you go just like that. I mean... how surprising it would be to find an unmarried girl alone in the arms of a man in the back of the imperial gardens. How... unheard of! And that too from the future princess. Who would have thought that? I wonder what your fiancé will say when he hears about this? It is said that he and the crown prince are not necessarily favorably disposed towards each other! I wonder what could trigger such a situation between them?"

"No! Let me go, please!"

Sheer panic caused (Y/N)'s body to release a huge amount of adrenaline all at once. Immediately, it awakened the flight reflex in the young debutante, so she desperately began to fight back against the stronger man, punching him with her free hand while trying to tear her other arm away from him. Cursing, Shindo tried to grab her wildly flailing arms, but before he could do so, the youngest Midoriya instinctively grabbed the hairpin her fiancé had given her two days ago. Without paying attention to her hairstyle, she tore the piece of jewelry out of her hair, only to ram the two long pointed teeth of silver metal into her attacker's shoulder. With a cry of pain, Shindo disengaged from her as he staggered back disoriented. Dark blood dripped from her improvised weapon as she held it protectively in front of her. Gasping, (Y/N) tried to widen the distance she had gained between them by backing a few steps away from him, but in doing so she had failed to notice the bump in the turf, which is why, she tripped over her own hem and fell to the ground with a frightened cry.

Full of terror, she realized that Shindo now had the chance to grab her again, but that moment was never to come.

It was only a few seconds later that (Y/N) had registered that Bakugou Katsuki himself had rushed past her to ragefully give her adversary a right hook. The blow seemed to hit Shindo so hard that he almost instantly fell to the ground unconscious.

"Miss Midoriya, are you hurt?", a warm, masculine voice rang out beside her, causing her to instantly startle in panic. Instinctively, she raised her bloodied hairpin in front of her body to defend herself if necessary. However, when she recognized the face of the red-haired companion of the Shogun, (Y/N) immediately relaxed. Instantly, the young debutante shook her head and tremblingly grasped Kirishima's hand, which he had extended to her in offering to help her up. Her body shook like leafs in the wind barely able to keep her to stand upright, but nevertheless, she immediately turned around to look for the person who had come to her rescue. Bakugou bent with clenched fists down towards the man lying on the ground to strike him again, but (Y/N)'s pleading voice made him pause for a moment.

"B-Bakugou-sama!", the young Miss Midoriya gasped in panic as she broke away from his red-haired companion as quickly as possible. Immediately, the blond man spun around, breathing heavily as he returned the frightened girl's gaze. Analyzing, he looked at the stage in which his fiancée was. Her hair had been partially torn out of her hairstyle, while bloodstains adorned the white fur that her maid had previously draped around her shoulders to protect her from the evening chill. Bakugou's whole body radiated a tremendous anger when he saw how frightened she seemed, but as he watched her approach him faithfully, his muscles relaxed instantly. At that moment she forgot all the terrible rumors about her future husband, glad that he had come to her rescue. Seeking safety, the youngest Midoriya extended her fingers to reach into the Shogun's kimono sleeve as her gaze swung timidly to the unconscious Shindo.

"I defended myself. I-I didn't know any other way to help myself. I am sorry.", she whispered in a shaky voice. Bakugou allowed the young girl to claw at his arm. With deep breaths, he studied her expression searchingly. After a moment he shook his head in a dismissive manner before answering her statement:"You did the right thing.", he grumbled, before looking back down at Shindo. Immediately, (Y/N) followed his gaze while she tried to suppress an upcoming shiver that ran down her spine. "Is... he dead?", she asked frightened, when she saw that the man on the ground was not moving at all. It was too dark to make out any injuries, but she knew that he must be bleeding profusely from his shoulder. Snorting, Bakugou shook his head, while his shoulders stiffened again a little. "Not yet!", he growled as he made moves to approach Shindo again. His free hand reached out to grasp the handle of his katana, but (Y/N)'s fingers dug deeper into the fabric of his sleeve as she stepped closer towards her fiance.

"Your Grace. We should get out of here before someone discovers us. Your reputation could ge-" "What do I care about my reputation?", interrupted Bakugou angrily as he spun back around to face her. Overwhelmed, the young girl looked up at him as she searched for a new approach. Shindo had attacked her. He deserved to be punished, but (Y/N) did not want to witness him losing his head because of that. Tears still glistened in the girl's eyes, but no more flowed down her cheeks as she finally began again:"I-I can't be seen here either. That would also damage Izuku's and my reputation!", (Y/N) pressed out uncertainly.

Immediately, realization spread across the blond man's features before he began to curse in annoyance. "Then what are you waiting for? Get the hell moving out of here!", he blustered angrily as he began to push her out of the clearing. "Dunce Face, go find Deku and discreetly explain to him what had happened. I'll take his sister away in the meantime!", he ordered Kaminari, who surprisingly stood a few feet behind Kirishima, nodding dutifully. As he left the clearing, he threw (Y/N) an encouraging smile as he passed her, but he did not hesitate further to carry out his order. "Kirishima! I want you to take care of him! Find out what exactly was going on here!", the Shogun growled in the direction of his other companion, while he gestured towards Shindo with a nod of his head. A serious expression spread across Kirishima's face before he nodded obediently as well.

With her head bowed in shame, the youngest Midoriya left the dark clearing accompanied by the blond shogun, but instead of heading back in the direction of the festival, he led her in the opposite direction. "Going into a secluded part of the garden alone by yourself was reckless, girl! You should be glad that Kirishima had seen you disappear in here! Something more terrible could have happened to you otherwise!", dispraised Bakugou as he dragged her along behind him. Stumbling, (Y/N) moved in the direction she was being pulled, while trying to sort out her appearance as best she could.

"I know!", (Y/N) replied dejectedly.

"That rotten bastard deliberately followed you! You shouldn't have moved away from your good for nothing brother under any circumstances. As a fucking Midoriya, you have a huge target on your back, you hear me? Your brother is going to be the next damn emperor! So you have to be more careful, brat!", added Bakugou angrily as they scurried past the tall rose hedges.

"I... I know.", the youngest Midoriya whispered again. His choice of words hurt the young girl, but she tried not to burst into tears again.

"If you wouldn't have just put up with everything beforehand and just directly told that damn pervert at the party to keep his fucking mitts off of you, it wouldn't have had to come to this in the first place!", the young shogun continued to chide her darkly, giving all of his frustration an outlet. However, the young Midoriya was also still running partly on the increased adrenaline release, which is why she finally looked up to give Bakugou with a pained expression on her damp face. Had she not been so upset, it certainly would have surprised her that he had even noticed the situation at the party. After all, he hadn't seemed like he wanted to give her any attention in the first place. But at that moment, all she could feel was how all of her frustration wanted to burst out of her.

"Yes, I know!", she replied in a sharp voice before taking a deep breath. "I know it now, that going into that part of the garden was incredibly reckless, and I regret it too. But please. Please, don't judge me for trying to ignore Lord Mineta's advances. It was not my place to covet. Causing a commotion in public would have only caused more problems. I didn't want to disgrace you and my brother. Believe me, if it had been up to me, I would have loved to fight back.", (Y/N) blurted out before she could catch herself. Trembling, she pressed her hairpin to her chest, no longer thinking about the fact that the blood sticking to it could stain her clothes even more.

Abruptly, Bakugou spun around after he registered the young debutante's words to glower down at her, snorting with rage. Jaw tightened, he gritted his teeth as he bent down dangerously slow over her smaller frame. "Listen, girl! I will not allow my future wife to be molested by anyone. I order you to fight back, damn you! Do you understand?", growled Bakugou firmly, while his hand tightened around her trembling wrist. Despite the pressure, however, he seemed careful not to hurt her unnecessarily, but this was the least thing that occupied (Y/N)'s mind at the moment.

Shaking her head disbelievingly, she tried to form words of refutation: "But... Y-Your Grace-", the youngest Midoriya began to stutter, eyes widening in shock as she gazed speechlessly into her fiancé's vermilion eyes, unable to form a decent sentence. "I don't expect you to directly ram your jewelry into everyone's shoulder, but use your fucking voice and put people in their place. That perverted little rat wouldn't have dared to approach you if you told him that you were my fucking fiance!", hissed Bakugou angrily as he unconsciously pulled her closer to him.

Silence spread between the mismatched couple after Bakugou's last words. For a brief moment, they looked at each other in silence with rapidly moving chests, until all at once an appreciative grin settled on the mans full lips. This expression literally took the remaining wind out of (Y/N's) sails. How could he seem so amused all of a sudden when he had been furious not even a moment ago?

Before (Y/N) could ask where his change of heart came from, the Shogun once again interrupted the silence between them:"While I had not given you the hairpin with that intention, I cannot deny that I was impressed that you had used it to your advantage.", the young shogun remarked with an amused look as he pointed to her improvised weapon. Speechless, the debutante looked down before an uncomfortable heat shot up her cheeks. Forgetting that he had chided  her just a few seconds ago, (Y/N) lifted her shoulders in shame. "I am sorry!", whispered the young girl, but Bakugou only shook his head, before he indicated to follow him again.

"Don't be. Now Come. I'll take you home.", the shogun ordered a bit softer than before. Clenching her jaw, (Y/N) nodded surrenderingly before walking briskly after her stoic fiance.  

[seiin-translations]

2.43 S1 Chapter 5.3 - Stand By Me

3. FAKE

Kuroba and Haijima hit the big city~

Translation Notes

1. Tohoku is the northeast portion of Honshu, the largest island of Japan and consists of Akita, Aomori, Fukushima, Iwate, Miyagi, and Yamagata. Hokuriku is the northwest part and consists of Ishikawa, Fukui, Niigata and Toyama

2. A school with an escalator system is one where the school allows you to advance from one stage of education to the next without having to do entrance exams; these kinds of schools are usually private schools

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He could feel the train shaking, but his consciousness seemed to be clouded.

So noisy… The noise around him grew louder, his consciousness, which had been drifting just below the thin film of his dream, popped to the surface. The sounds of people talking in the distance suddenly became clear in his ears. Passengers began to hurriedly move about, returning seats and tables to their original positions and unloading luggage from racks. For a moment, he thought they were in Maibara, but they were supposed to have already passed Maibara and transferred to the bullet train.

I feel kinda…sluggish…?

After he fell asleep and woke up, he suddenly felt sluggish. I felt somewhat tired before getting on the train, but there’s something strange about this… His whole body felt faintly heavy, like it was covered in a leaden shell.

And then the thing he was resting his head on suddenly disappeared, and his entire upper body slumped to the side.

“Ow…”

His temples throbbed where earpieces of his glasses dug into them. One side of his neck muscles was stretched out and stiff. He screwed up his face as he pressed his neck and saw Kuroba’s back in front of him.

“Wow. We’re really in Tokyo. Wow…”

Kuroba leaned toward the window and shouted with child-like glee, and he could see the smoggy sky beyond his head. The skyscrapers in the city center shone in the pale sunlight. The in-train announcements announced their arrival at Tokyo, the last stop. The train temporarily separated from the dazzling cityscape and slid into the neutral-colored platform.

“…Wait, Tokyo!?”

Haijima pushed Kuroba’s back aside and quickly raised his heavy body.

“Why didn’t you wake me up at Shinagawa?”

“Shinagawa? That’s not Tokyo.”

“I told you we’re getting off at Shinagawa. It’s closer from there.”

“Yeah, but the tickets said Tokyo, right?”

“It says ‘Within the wards of Tokyo.’”

“…So, that’s Tokyo…?”

In all probability, Kuroba didn’t have the Tokyo transit map in his head, so there was no point in engaging with him.

He pulled his bag down from the rack and headed for the doors, pushed by the waves of passengers getting off one after another. As he stepped onto the platform, he felt the air flow and realized how stagnant the dense air inside the train had become. It was the first time in a long while that he felt the air of Tokyo. The air filled with the body heat of people in close quarters definitely wasn’t clear, but the sluggishness eased a little when he breathed in the outside air.

Although he wasn’t nearly as provincial as Kuroba, Haijima hadn’t used Tokyo Station much, so he was bewildered. However, they would cause congestion if they stood in place too long. He started walking before looking for the information board, thinking that if he followed the flow of people, he would soon reach the ticket gates for transferring to the non-conventional train lines.

“Hey, don’t leave me behind. I’ll cry if I get lost here. I’ll definitely get lost.”

“If you get lost, turn on your phone. I’ll call you.”

“I never exchanged my email address or phone number with you. I didn’t get a phone until I was in high school.”

“…Is that right? Then, let’s do it now…”

Passersby roughly pushed them out of the way as they were standing in their way talking. He stumbled back two steps, but when he turned around, he saw that Kuroba had disappeared into the crowd.

“Kuro…”

He was overwhelmed by the scenery that zoomed past before his eyes and froze.

He felt as though the world around him was moving at a speed of 1.3 times faster than he was used to. The pace of the people around were extremely hurried, and the train station announcements sounded high-pitched and rapid. He didn’t feel like that when he lived there before, but he wondered if the world had accelerated in the two years he had been away—he felt like he was going to get thrown from this swift current by centrifugal force, and he was subconsciously looking for something to cling to.

Suddenly, his bag was yanked from the side and he was pulled back into the crowd. He felt the strap digging into his stomach and almost threw up, but it kept him connected to the world. He unintentionally let out a sigh of relief.

“I told you not to leave me.” Kuroba was gripping the strap tightly. Well, he’s the one who has a miserable look on his face like a little kid pulling on his mom’s skirt.

“I didn’t leave you…”

I was the one who thought I was left behind for a moment.

***

“Meisei Academy – High School”

The name of the school was engraved in a ceramic board set into the brick wall.

It was just after school, and the open school gates spewed out students in uniforms with the somewhat pretentious designs typical of private schools. On the grounds of the school, they could see students from athletic clubs dressed in jerseys forming large and small groups and coming and going in whichever directions they wished.

If they had gotten off at Nanafu Station this morning and gone to school as usual, they would have finished their day of classes and gone home by now. It had taken them a whole school day to get here. It might have been closer than he thought, or it might have been farther, because a whole school day of classes was quite painful for him.

“This school looks like it could be the setting for a drama. Private schools in Tokyo really are different.”

Kuroba said in a stupid voice, after opening his mouth stupidly and gazing at the school building towering over the gates. Haijima didn’t know how to feel about that impression, since he rarely watched TV dramas, but standing in a corner of a crowd of uniforms with a distinctive color scheme of dark red and grey, he felt like Seiin’s uniform of just a white shirt and black pants really did seem extremely simple. Some carried non-designated bags or backpacks, but the majority carried the dark red school bag on their shoulders.

“The skirts are shorter than I thought. The way they wear their uniforms are different too. What the hell are Itoko and the others copying?” Kuroba muttered as he watched groups of Meisei girls passing through the school gates.

Then, those girls turned to look at them. “Whoa!” Kuroba was startled and leaned towards him.

The girls started chatting with each other and giggling as they pulled on each other’s uniforms that were worn in a different way and looked at them. Haijima felt a chill in the pit of his stomach.

“H-Hey, those Tokyo girls are looking at us. They’re kind of talking happily. Do you think we might be standing out a lot? Maybe that girl over there thinks I’m cute? What should I do if she’s saying something like that?”

He took another look at the girls’ uniforms from behind Kuroba, who was losing his mind and whispering into his ear, and secretly let out a breath. They weren’t in the same year as him—the Meisei girls’ uniform had ties for the middle schoolers and ribbons for the high schoolers, and the school years could be distinguished by the color. He remembered that his own year was dark blue. The ribbons of those girls were dark green. That was probably the third years’ color. If they were two years above him, they probably didn’t know about back then.

Why did I think they were talking about that just because they looked over here and laughed…more than I expected, I’m…

“You know, I got a sense of it when we arrived here, but we’re pretty tall even in Tokyo.”

“Kuroba…I…might be nervous.”

He muttered that in a hoarse voice, and Kuroba’s face turned serious again like he just remembered.

He was trembling slightly, as though the ends of his body were numb. The feeling of stepping on the ground felt light and fluffy. His throat was unusually dry. He didn’t think his body would react like this when he stood before the gates of Meisei—he had never been nervous in a volleyball game.

“…Haijima, you’re not turning back, are you? You understood and came this far, didn’t you?”

It wouldn’t have been strange if the usual Kuroba told him that he could turn back if he didn’t want to do this. He might have been hoping for that somewhere in his mind. But the slightly harsh voice encouraged him.

“I’m the one who spurred you on. I’m not going to make a way out for you. You’re fine with that, right?”

“…”

He nodded. He remembered that, didn’t he.

“Excuse us!”

They heard a voice in the distance. He didn’t think it was calling them, but Kuroba looked back at the gate with a “Nnn?” and Haijima was influenced to look up as well.

“Sorry we’re late, you’re from H High, right? The captain told us to come welcome you…”

Two boys came running towards them from inside the school. They looked like they were from a sports team with their matching T-shirts and knee-length track pants, and both of their heights were in the 170 centimeter range, which was taller than the average height for boys. However, rather than their heights, he guessed that they were volleyball players because of their builds that gave the impression that they were stretching lankily upwards, and they probably judged them to be the same for the same reasons. He could clearly see the logo “MEISEI VOLLEYBALL TEAM” printed across their chests.

They came running up to them in a friendly manner, but seemed to realize they had mistaken them for the people from H High because of their different uniforms, and they immediately looked suspicious.

“Huh? Sorry, which school…”

One of them was about to say when the other boy next to him spoke up.

“…Chika?”

The only people who called him by his childhood nickname were his acquaintances from his elementary and middle school volleyball days in Tokyo. The name itself now sounded like an accusation to Haijima, and his heart twinged. “Huh? Ah…” The boy next to him also stared at his face, and then exclaimed, “Seriously!? It is Chika!”

“…Tetto and, Kou…?”

Haijima called the names of his former teammates.

Komukai Tetsuto and Ikawa Kou. In middle school, their positions were libero and reserve setter respectively. It was no surprise to him that they made it this far. The school had an escalator system, so about seventy percent of the students came from the middle school division. In addition, athletic team students generally participated in the same club activities in both middle and high school. One of Meisei Academy’s selling points was the long-term development of athletes through an integrated junior and senior high school system.

“You’re here to watch us practice, right? I knew you’re still doing volleyball. There’s no way Chika would quit volleyball.”

Komukai took the initiative to speak as he led the way down the tree-lined path towards the gym. The unexpectedly cheerful welcome left Haijima bewildered.

“Go tell everyone, Kou. Chika came to hang out.”

“Isn’t practice about to start? And what are we going to do about the people from H High?”

Ikawa pulled out his phone while sneaking glances at Haijima. Unlike Komukai, he could read a hint of hesitation in Ikawa’s voice.

Komukai, Ikawa, and Haijima walked side by side. Kuroba, looking out of place, walked several steps behind.

It was Komukai who first heard about Yoshino’s suicide attempt and told everyone on the team about it. Haijima also clearly remembered that Komukai was part of the outbreak of people who blamed him for it afterwards. What if I meet someone who knew about what happened at that time? …Will I be treated like a “murderer” again”…? He had been bracing himself for that, but he had no idea what to do with this reaction that made him forget why he even transferred to another school.

“I think I heard that the school you transferred to was in your grandma’s town, but where was it again? It’s in Tohoku, right? Are you going to high school there now?”

“Fukui’s not in Tohoku, it’s in Hokuriku. (1) It’s Fukui’s Seiin High School.”

Kuroba corrected him unhappily from behind. “Who’s that, your friend from there?” Komukai asked. Haijima answered him while looking over his shoulder at Kuroba.

“My high school teammate, Kuroba, …He’s my friend since kindergarten. …And our ace attacker.” Kuroba looked shocked, and he himself wondered why he had said it like they were separate items.

“Wow. Pretty amazing for a first year, ace attacker. I’m Komukai,” Komukai said carefreely, and Ikawa introduced himself with “Hello, I’m Ikawa,” while texting.

“I’ve never heard of Fukui’s Seiin. Are you guys strong?”

“Unh…we still don’t have any achievements yet, but we’ll get there.”

“Our team made it to the Kanto tournament this year, but we finished in the best sixteen.”

“That’s the power of the upperclassmen, you mean. Did you do anything?”

He interjected because he felt something off about the way he said it. Komukai, who had been talking smoothly, broke off. Ikawa looked up from his phone as though he was startled.

Komukai shrugged his shoulders as though he was exasperated for some reason.

“That part of you hasn’t changed at all.”

“…What do you mean by ‘that part’?”

“You know what I’m talking about.”

Unlike Seiin, Meisei didn’t have a shortage of freshmen on the bench. It was the efforts of the older students that got them to the Kanto Tournament, and he was sure that was why the older students were so disappointed that they finished in the best sixteen. The only people who could say “in the end” were the players themselves. He felt that there was something wrong about someone who hadn’t contributed to that talking in a self-depreciating way about it…was that wrong?

Suddenly, the back of his collar was grabbed and yanked hard. Haijima stumbled as Kuroba thrust his face between them and cut into the conversation.

“Hey, more importantly, is that Yoshino guy here today?”

“Yoshino? Oh, Yoshino Souta? Well, he doesn’t go here, but…he went some place near my house. You’re still in touch with him, right, Kou?”

“Ah, yeah, he went to a different high school.”

“What…but this place has an escalator system, doesn’t it?” (2)

“Yeah, but Souta quit the volleyball team.”

Ikawa timidly replied to Kuroba’s naïve question, and Komukai supplemented it. “It gets tough when you change clubs midway here. It’s perfectly fine to change, but it’s assumed that in high school you’d be staying in the same club.”

One step behind the three of them, Haijima was rooted to the spot like he had been thrown out of the conversation.

He’s lying, right…? Souta quit volleyball…?

He had just taken it for granted that he would be in Meisei High School’s volleyball team, and no other option had ever crossed his mind. When he thought about, of course there would be other options, but he never doubted that Yoshino would continue to play volleyball.

“…Was it, because, of that…?”

His voice became a lump and got stuck in his throat, causing him to speak in a strangely clumsy way. His vocal chords were blocked by something hard and he could only speak in chunks. He got these symptoms from time to time. The words hardened inside his body. Kuroba looked back at him and gave him a worried look. Komukai looked at Ikawa with a puzzled look on his face, and Ikawa whispered, “You know, Souta’s…incident,” while minding him.

“Incident? Oh, that—.”

Komukai lightly responded and scratched his head with a forced smile.

“I’m surprised, Chika, you still care about that. Uh, yeah, that doesn’t have anything to do with this, I think, because that was…what do you call it, a performance, you know? We did a lot of research on the internet to find out where you can cut and not be in too much danger. Half the team knew about it. Kou, you knew it too, right?”

“I, I didn’t know about it…”

“Souta’s not here anymore, so I can say this now, right? Well, we were talking about how no matter how dense Chika is, even he’d get it if someone died. Then we got excited and decided that someone should really do it and Souta volunteered. Well, even we were turned off when he really did it, but Souta probably couldn’t back down either——”  

…? What is he…?

He spoke so lightly that it slid smoothly over the surface of his ears before he could grasp the meaning of his words. What…is he talking about…? Is he talking about something that he can confess about with a half-smile like that right now? Komukai’s face was twisting and looking like a grotesque creature spouting unintelligible words. It’s disgusting——. Komukai’s face was twisting and looking like a grotesque creature spouting unintelligible words. It’s disgusting——.

A tall shadow flashed at the edge of his vision. Komukai’s slippery voice was cut short with a short cry.

“What the hell is that!? Is that true!?”

The one who grabbed Komukai’s collar and shouted that was Kuroba.

“Do you guys even know the difference between things you can joke about and things you can’t…”

“What’s it got to do with you? We didn’t think Chika would transfer to another school with just that back then…”

“With just that…!?” Growling that as though squeezing the words out from between his grinding teeth, Kuroba raised his fist.  

“Hey, what’s with this guy? Oi, Chika…” Komukai asked for help while covering his face with his arms. If I don’t stop him—even if he’s still suspected of fighting, it’s absolutely no good for him to cause trouble at another school. Are you saying that this is for you alone? Did it become like this because you want to be in a game? No…this is wrong, Kuroba, no—his voice was stuck in his throat and he couldn’t speak. He couldn’t move his body.

“Oi, what are you guys doing!?”

When a suspicious-sounding voice came flying from somewhere, he got impelled by it and somehow managed to step forward. He jumped at Kuroba while getting his legs tangled up and grabbed his arms. He shook his head slightly and appealed with his eyes to Kuroba, who ground his teeth in dissatisfaction. Kuroba clicked his tongue and loosened his hold on Komukai.

The wall of the gym could be seen at the end of the tree-lined path. Someone who appeared to be an older student on the volleyball team was standing in front of the metal doors of the entrance.

“Komukai, Ikawa? Where did you guys go! The guys from H High are already here, so there’s no point in making me go to welcome them.”

“Huh, really? Then we must have just missed them!”

While answering the angry shout with one of his own, Komukai tried to keep a distance from Kuroba, but Kuroba roughly grabbed his shoulder and pulled him back. “What the hell?” he protested, but his voice was quiet and he backed off.

The upperclassmen looked at them warily, since they came into the school wearing the uniforms of another school, but when he saw Haijima’s face, he seemed to recall something and he turned back to the gym and said something. It was then that Haijima also recalled the name of that team member. His name was Tatsumi and he was one year older than him. In middle school, Haijima had been on the bench since early in his first year and became the regular setter when the third years retired. In the high school, the upper and lower members would have remained almost unchanged, so there were probably not a few upperclassmen who remembered standing on the court with him.

Some more members came out of the gym as Tatsumi called them. He couldn’t make out the conversation, but the words “Haijima” and “Chika” kept leaking out.

“What’s with them, they’re acting like you’re a panda in a zoo.”

Kuroba muttered, sounding like he was unable to clear away his anger.

“Don’t you know, they’re wondering who’s that guy who looks like a delinquent from the boonies over there.”

When Komukai said that snidely, Kuroba pushed his shoulder with an indignant look and shoved him away. As Komukai was trying to straighten his stretched-out T-shirt while grumbling, Kuroba made a gesture of driving him away with his foot.  Just when Haijima wondered what he was going to say,

“Go tell them that Haijima and Kuroba from Seiin High School, the representative of Fukui Prefecture, came to challenge Meisei High School!”

“Hah?”

Komukai cried out wildly.

“You’re challenging us? Are you stupid? Where the hell is Seiin anyways?”

“I really don’t like the way Tokyo people say ‘stupid.’”

He put his face closer to Komukai’s, almost hanging over him, to silence him and reiterated it in a tone filled with intimidation.

“Didn’t you hear me? We’re Haijima and Kuroba from Seiin High School, representing Fukui Prefecture, have come to challenge Tokyo’s Meisei High. Now, go.”

He half-kicked Komukai’s behind and made him run. Ikawa looked back and forth between them as he hurriedly chased after him. “Keh,” Kuroba mimicked spitting at their backs before turning to him.

“Don’t look at me like that.”

He said with a sigh. He didn’t know what kind of face he was making because the nerve in his face had gone off somewhere.

“I know. I know that we can’t commit violence. That’s why, if you want to beat them up, you beat them in a match. That’s the way in sports manga, right? Don’t tell me you’re just gonna slink back home like this, Haijima? After you…got looked down on like that.”

When the corners of his mouth lifted to show his canines and made a disturbed face that looked like a combination of anger and a faint smile—he had never thought this even once until then, but he discovered that he looked exactly like Kuroba Yorimichi.

Previous || Index || Next

[obaby-me]

hi! can i ask a scenario for the boys with a s/o who already has a child (like 4-5 years old? a young kid.) thanks!

For this particular request, it will be assumed that the child is down in the Devildom with their parent given their young age and the parent’s refusal to be separated.

Lucifer

Although initially irritated at the arrangement of having an additional human to oversee, particularly a child, Lucifer slowly warms up to both you and your young one. What is one more to the six he already has. At least when the little human causes trouble, there is a very reasonable excuse—they’re /five/. The same cannot be said for his thousands years old brothers.

Your devotion to your child impresses him. You fought, you argued with Lord Diavolo himself. You absolutely refused to leave your child behind, even for a year. You showed a strength in your resolve that moved him, and Diavolo, who accepted the compromise for your attendance.

Lucifer is very protective of the two of you. He assigns Mammon to you for 24/7 protection, but Lucifer keeps a watchful eye on you as well, constantly checking in by text and call to “check your schedule” and to make sure Mammon hasn’t left your side.

He makes as much time in your schedule as possible for you to spend with your little one, and watches your stress levels carefully—almost creepily scientific.

He is not particularly affectionate, but he is doting in his own way, generally by way of gifts.

Mammon

When first assigned to you, the fact that you had a child in tow overwhelmed him. It’s not just one human he has to keep an eye on but two. One of which doesn’t have either the brains or the motor skills to keep themselves out of trouble or to run out of it. He has to /actually/ play his role as a guardian—he can’t pull a stunt of simply leaving you for any schemes he may have.

He’s a demon, but he’s not heartless.

Overtime he becomes more attached to you and your child. He plays little role in actually teaching the kid anything—it’s really for the best that you play the role model. Instead he spoils you and your young one with gifts. Clothes and toys, and favorite snacks. He’s a horrible enabler and will spoil your child rotten if you don’t keep a careful eye on him.

Mammon likes to take the two of you all around the Devildom. He keeps a super close eye on you both, incredibly over protective if even one demon eyes you. But he can’t not bring you both out and about. Not when it makes the two of you so happy.

He’s made your kid cry on a few occasions by a slip of his tsundere tongue and it made your child cry—which set Mammon off into crying too.

The fact that you rely on him to keep you two safe becomes something he takes pride in. He gets rather jealous if you every ask anything from any of his brothers.

Admittedly, Mammon gets jealous the attentions you give to your child as well. He wants cuddles and pats from you too. Sometimes it’s almost like you have two kids instead of one.

Leviathan

Levi considers babysitting a distraction from the important things in his life: video games, anime, and Ruri-chan. And that’s just on the basic level of time investment. Then there’s the difficulty of actually taking care of the fragile little thing. However, when your child shows interest in watching his shows with him, or watching him game, and just generally babbling and asking Levi questions about the things he loves and desperately wants to rant about, the avatar of envy very quickly changes his tune.

Your love and support to your child reminds him a lot of his own for Ruri-chan. Soon he begins to become a fan of your kid in the same way. Next thing you know, he’s got banners, little glow sticks, and cheers when your kid does silly dances, or sings little songs. He’s over the top, but you love that about him—thankfully.

After some time, he start making little comparisons to family units in anime’s that he sees, as though testing the waters to see if you feel the same about him, feeling as close as he does to you and your child.

His temper still dangerously flares however when your child gets handsy, or if they start mouthing on anything in his room—he will toss them right out of his room.

If he has some extra funds that week not spent on merchandise, he’ll buy them toys in the hopes they can keep their various troublesome body parts entertained and off his stuff. (He’s also secretly trying to instill an innate love for TSL through the types of toys he purchases.)

Satan

Satan doesn’t mind either way that there is a little human running around the house. He doesn’t go out of his way to get along with them, but if the child approaches him, he has a special soft spot in his heart waiting for them.

He trustsnthat you can take care of and keep your child under control, and leaves you to take care of everything unless you specifically ask for assistance. It’s simply his way of showing respect that you are the guardian and therefore it is entirely up to you what values and lessons to teach.

He plays a good sitter, better than any of his brothers—including Lucifer. Be sure to tell him so and he’ll make it a point to go out of his way do be even better still. He knows how to properly feed, clean, and knows not to give the child anything dangerous (which means he never lets the child into his room, and instead hangs out with him all the other rooms of the house.)

He can be intimidating when frustrated but he never breaks into demon form. He recognizes that the kid is only 5. Luckily, the aura he gives as he slowly loses his patience is so obvious that a child can sense something horrible will be on its way if they don’t start behaving. It scares them, and it always takes quite a few days of Satan apologizing and spoiling your child before they become comfortable with him again.

He likes to read stories to them, and begins to purchase small volumes of short tales to add to his collection. Sometimes he takes the kid with him to pick out the books themselves. Whatever interests your child may have, Satan will indulge them in, buying books perhaps a little to advanced, trying to explain and explore the subject more thoroughly with them.

Asmodeus

What’s this? A walking, talking doll to play dress up with? Asmo adores your little human and showers them with attention and gifts. Almost all gifts are outfits, and little make up kits, whether your child likes it or not. He can be excessive and controlling, but he means well. You have to step in to keep him in line. He’s a great care taker otherwise. You can be certain that your child will be well fed, well bathed, and perfectly uninjured after Asmo sits them—albeit their nails might be a little bedazzled.

Asmo’s initial obsession with your kid will slowly wear away to something more tolerable the more time he spends with you. Watching you and the way you love unconditionally unravels him in a way that makes him feel incredibly lonely. He envies that sort of love, and he desperately wants to earn it from you too.

He goes out of his way to try and earn your attention and approval. Be it through way of taking care of your child, or through taking care of you. He wants to be loved unconditionally as well. By you. He is overjoyed when you let him know you do consider him family as well and love him as one.

He can be counted on to de-stress you with face masks and massages and beautiful bubble baths, as well as give you a day alone while he spends it playing with your kid. He shows off pictures of you and kid online, and builds you up with the comments. He tells your stories, of the cute things you do for your child. Yes, his social media is blowing up and it’s not about him—but for once he’s perfectly happy—he’s proud of you and your little family unit.

Beelzebub

To everyone’s surprise, Beel is a fantastic caretaker. His brothers were a little worried he would eat the kid—and given how often they seemed to say it, it worried you a little too.

But Beel is a gentle giant. He’s careful when he picks them up and considerate of what he says to them. You can rest assured that there is no one your child will feel more safe with than Beel. He admits that everything he does, it’s because he is trying to mimic you. He admires you. Your nurturing aura, your patience—you’re soft outside and in, and he wants to protect that.

Watching your child is something he enjoys—he’ll even be the one to ask you if he can be the one to watch them next. With him, your child gets plenty of exercise. Beel likes to lift them up and spin them, chase them around the house and have them chase him. He’s an active guy and having someone to play with delights him.

Beware that he might overfeed your kid. He has no concept of “enough” when it comes to food. When he eats, there’s always little for your little one as well. Anything they refuse to eat, Beel is happy to devour for them— which means balanced meals that include veggies, while they may be served, may not be eaten at all.

Belphegor

Belphie likes you before he likes the kid. It’s not that Belphie doesn’t like kids. Kids are just a lot. A lot of time and energy.

It’s exhausting taking care of a child, and Belphie has a difficult time just doing things for himself without needing a nap halfway through the day.

But you manage to do it all on your own. You’re tired, but you persevere, even when the kid shoves an entire fist full of cookie into milk and watches it sink before crying that it’s missing. You’re patient, and you’re gentle, and you’re kind, no matter how much of a pain in the ass your kid can be.

Not matter how much of a pain in the ass he can be.

The little human slowly grows on him. He thinks they’re amusing and he likes their enthusiasm for the world around them. He worries for them, however. The Devildom isn’t completely safe for humans yet, so he likes to keep you both inside whenever possible. If he could get away with locking you two down in his room, he would. He’s very protective of you both and gets a little dangerous should anyone even hint a threat to either of you.

Belphie doesn’t know how to keep a kid entertained. Instead, he lets them take the lead to do whatever they want (within the walls of the house) and he lazily follows along. He’s a yes man to whatever mischief your kid decides to get into. He doesn’t stop any behavior unless it could cause harm to the kid.

In fact, he’ll encourage some troublesome behaviors if it means causing trouble for Lucifer. Draw on the walls? Go for it, kid. Just don’t eat the markers.

Belphie’s a terrible babysitter by everyone else’s standards, but your child adores him, and always asks for Belphie specifically to watch them.

[hanadolphieron]

WE HIT 200 EVERYBODY!!!!

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR 200 FOLLOWERS!!! I LOVE EACH AND EVERY ONE OF YOU!!!!!

and you guys know what i promised whenever i reached this milestone...

MY EIGHTH GRADE STORY ABOUT A MONGOOSE!

it’s not 2.6k words what are you talking about

@sarahbkwl i know you’ll love this and @kaepopsicle i think you will too <3

The Demonic Mongoose of the Wild West

Bert the Bird, the demonic mongoose of the Wild West, roamed through the underbrush, searching for ants to eat. A tumbleweed ran across the bland terrain, hit Bert up the side of the head, and sent him flying. After a few long seconds, Bert slapped the ground with a resounding squeal. A big thwack echoed across the desert. A frog ribbeted. Bert sneezed.  

Unfazed, Bert continued his search for ants. He sniffled and snuffled along the ground, dancing to a nonexistent tune. His overly small paws bounced in rhythm, doing kicks so high they would give the Rockettes a run for their money. A few stumbles added variety to the dance. Completely calculated, I assure you.  

After a while, Bert forgot what he was doing and decided to head into town. The ants were spared another day. The saloon was not. Bert the Bird threw his whole body weight into the doors of the tavern, a meager attempt at forcing them open. The doors unsurprisingly didn’t budge, as the demonic mongoose only weighs half a gallon. Luckily, a cowboy-hatted, blue-jeaned, spur-wearing, collared-shirted and dusty faced yeehaw man came strutting through the doors.  

Bert the Bird took his chance and scrambled after the male yeehaw. He stopped, waiting for the perfect time to reveal his identity. Everyone in the saloon was peacefully (except for the two hoodlums brawling in the corner) engulfing liquid bread.  

Letting out an astounding yowl, Bert the Bird silenced the room. Heads turned, watching as Bert stood there, threatening them with his not-so-mere existence.

“Is it really him?”

“Don’t shoot- I got two kids!”

“Big Ol’ Bert Bird!”

“It’s the demonic mongoose!”

Whispers, gasps, yells, and one nervous bark filled the room. The mongoose smirked to himself.

Bert mobilized. Moving south, the mongoose headed towards the snake in the corner. His reptilian lawyer, who was currently playing cards with a yeehaw female, hissed in greeting.  

Bert squeaked out a snarl. The room gasped as he continued advancing towards the vertebrate.  

“Where are your federal income taxes, Bert?” the snake wheezed (she’s old.)

“Don’t have job,” Bert replies, edging closer.

“Oh yes you do, you’re tasked with eliminating my kin, aren’t you?”

“Huh.”  

Desktop App (the snake) sighs. Bert remains confused at the word choice beyond his vocabulary (he barely managed to graduate Childhood.)

“You,” she motioned to Bert, “Fight,” she imitated punching using her tail, “Snake,” she slithers.

“No.”

“Bert, fighting snakes is your entire livelihood, you can’t deny it.”

“No!” yells Bert, as he jumps in for the kill, attacking Desktop App’s neck. He misses and consumes a mouthful of table leg.

Desktop App lunges for Bert but doesn’t manage to take a chunk out of his arm as intended.  

Instead, she falls to the floor as Bert stumbles out of the way on accident after his head h                                                                                 hit the table and he careened into the floorboards, away from Desktop App.

Hissing, the reptile flops back around to face the mongoose, but Bert is already gone. He has seemingly vanished, but if you had looked closer, you would have seen a small, fluffy tail disappearing around the corner.  

Panting, Bert bounds across the rough terrain. His stubby legs aren’t used to moving at such accelerated speeds, and collapse after a few minutes. However, he’s far enough away from the town that he can’t see the outline of it. Belly heaving on the floor, limbs splayed out around him, head resting on the ground- Bert takes a cat nap.

He wakes up three hours later. Squeaking and jumping up, Bert continues to run. He has no idea what he’s doing or what he’s escaping, but he vaguely remembers that something dangerous was about to happen. To let loose his panic, the poor mongoose screams repetitively.

The surrounding life forms are irritated by such disturbance and one decides to stop him.  

Eduardo, The Valiant Frog of the Wild West, stands in front of Bert as the mongoose propels towards him. Bert shows no sign of stopping, because when he sees an obstacle, he gets scared, and his first reaction is to run, which involves speeding towards the obstacle at Mongoose Mach I.

However, Eduardo stands his ground. Suddenly, Bert stops, sniffing the air. Frog. Leaning closer, he gets close to Eduardo. “Frog,” he says.

Eduardo stares. “Is that all you have to say, young mammal?”

Bert The Bird says nothing.

“I have heard you are seeking sanctuary from the snakes. You will find none until you banish them all from these lands. Otherwise, they will always be lurking, slithering under your feet, watching you.”

Bert hiccups, and lets out another scream. He clumsily poises to run again, but Eduardo yells out, “Stop!”

Bert does exactly that and lays down on the ground. Eduardo shakes his head. “This is hopeless,” he mutters.  

“Go north,” Eduardo says slowly.

“Who?” Bert asks.

“North is not a life form, it’s the direction you are facing right now,” Eduardo points his walking stick to help Bert understand, “The snakes’ base is there. It’s hard to miss. Go find it and save us all!”

Bert squawks and starts bouncing north like a kangaroo. Shaking his head, Eduardo retreats to his spot under the sand.

After a while, Bert sees a structure like a laboratory, and stops. Settling down near the side of it, the mongoose burrows into the sand. It’s nice and shady next to the metal wall with a snake drawn on it, and it’s even out of the sun! A perfect place to spend the night. He curls up, wraps his tail around his small body, closes his eyes, and drifts off to sleep.

He awakens fifteen hours later, yawns, and stretches, gripping the ground with his claws. But, instead of the ground, he feels something slimy and scaly. Too frightened to utter a sound, Bert the Bird lets go of the thing, then grabs it again. This time, he adds more force and crushes it. It makes no noise. Bert sniffs it. Danger.

Bert slowly hightails it around the corner. He finds himself inside the structure. He sniffs again. The air tastes different. Spicier. Cautiously, he pads forward, tiny paws making no sound.  

Hearing voices, he crouches low to the ground to camouflage himself. He doesn’t realize that the building is white-painted metal, and he is a furry brown mongoose. Bert slinks closer to the sound, not stopping. He wants to see who’s speaking.  

Suddenly, the floor drops out from under him. Bert meows loudly, scared out of his mind. He plummets five feet, and lands in some dirt. The air is knocked out of his lungs, and Bert sits on his buttocks like a human, wheezing. Shaking his head like a wet dog, Bert stands up and observes his surroundings. He’s in a dark room with no light. So, he’s unable to see anything.

Snorting, Bert decides to use his other four senses to get a feel of where he is. Bert’s never been this resourceful before.

He pats around at the dirt under him and slowly moves forward. He immediately hits a wall. Snorting again in contempt, he turns around and is met with another obstacle. Snorting even louder, Bert jumps five feet in the air in dissatisfaction and blasts straight through the roof of the dark hole.  

The surprise of his heroic and super-mongoose actions scares him, and Bert jumps again. However, this time he doesn’t snort. Mobilizing again, he trots down the hallway. The voices have stopped, but Bert hasn’t.  

A crossroads appears in front of him. He keeps moving and hits the middle dividing wall face first. Startled, he blinks twice in a row. Turning around almost completely, he takes the left path. He sees a door on his right as he moves down the path, and Bert turns quickly to enter the room.  

Four snakes stare at him. Bert recoils, barking at them. They seem unaffected by his terrifying show of terror and hiss at him, “Why are you here, mongoose?”

“Who?”

The snakes sigh.

“Where are your federal income taxes?” they inquire, just as Desktop App had. Bert doesn’t answer. “Bert, you have been in debt to us for years. Each time you fight us, we lose purposely so someday you will have to pay us back for all the victory we have given you.”

“I disagree.”

And with that, Bert runs away, hooning down the hall and bursting out the door. He feels different. His head feels heavier, less empty, like something’s in there. Brain cells, he thinks to himself! He’s finally found some! The chemicals in the snakes’ lair must have given him some.

The ground disappears under his paws as he runs ferociously towards town. He must inform them of the nonconsensual agreement between him and the snakes regarding debt. He doesn’t understand what federal income taxes have to do with it, so he decides to disregard those for now.

The low skyline appears on the horizon, but Bert has no energy left. Slowly, the mongoose begins to decrease speed until he drags himself to a stop. Being awake for three hours is too much for a mongoose. Bert falls asleep a mile out of town.

The next morning, Bert wakes up and sneezes forty-seven times. Immediately, despite the sleep in his eyes and mussed-up hair, the valiant mongoose bounds towards town, making it there within the span of ten minutes.

The people are hiding in their houses, frightened of poor, misunderstood Bert. He meows pathetically. Suddenly, his voice acts without him thinking about it, like he’s saying a prophecy. He says, “Humans! My name is Bert the Bird, The Demonic Mongoose of the Wild West! But I do not claim that title! I am just Bert!”  

He pauses, waiting for an answer. Silence.

Bert continues, “I need your help. The snakes have tricked me. My past lack of brain cells made me victim to a devious scheme- each time I fought a snake, the reptile would lose purposely, consequently indebting me to them. I never consented to this agreement or trade! I need your help defeating these reptiles, as the ferocious mongoose you know as Bert the Bird is not me, and I am just a mere mammal. I do not seek revenge, just justice.”

Bert the Bird looks around, partly perturbed by his voice acting on its own, and partly to see if there were any takers to his courageous call.  

A door creaked open. Bert looked hopefully towards it and saw a badger.

“BADGER!” He screeched. Perhaps not the wisest call, but it sufficed, as Badger came hurling out the door towards Bert. (in fear.)

However, once he saw the wide, hopeful smile spread across Bert’s face, all fear dissipated. A few other animals slowly left the security of their homes and Bert was soon surrounded by a kingdom of squawking, ribbeting, barking, meowing, mooing, squeaking, and aggressive flapping.

“We will help you!” a turkey said. Cornbread was his name.  

“YEAHHHHHHH!” came an overly loud yell from a rare blue land shrimp. (Her entire body consists of a voice box supposedly; Bert had heard stories.)

Resounding expressions of agreement echoed throughout the square. “I am unendingly grateful for your assistance. Do we have any weaponry in this town?”

“Cabbage catapults,” growled an ostrich named Oallllyieee (exact spelling.) Bert could barely hear the baritone bird.  

“Pitchforks!” squeaks a rare yellow land whale. (This is the Wild West we have some interesting species.)

No one else reported any items, so Bert assumed that cabbage catapults and pitchforks were the extent of their defense system.  

“Let us prepare! Up and at ‘em!” Bert inspired, moving to go follow the animals as everyone streaked (not that kind of streaked) towards the barn located on the outskirts of Editing Reference File, the town.  

Everyone grabbed pitchforks, except for the bears and tigers (and the cacophonous rare blue land shrimp) who prepared the cabbage catapults.  

Lining up along the northern edge, all the animals positioned their attention on the outline of the snake structure at the top of the hill and waited.  

Not for long though, as a thunderous kerplonking and whooshing resounds from the hill. Hundreds of slithering noodles rampage towards the rest of the Wild West’s animal kingdom, slapping their tails against the sand in an uncoordinated fashion. These reptiles don’t stand a chance.

“Catapults at the ready!” roars Bert. The tigers’ claws fortunately abstain from becoming stuck in the voluminous leaves of the green vegetable. One of the bears, however, is not so lucky and now has large, round, leafy hands. He uses this to his advantage and begins to beat up some slimy thugs.  

“Fire!” Bert triumphantly yells once the snakes are in range. The cabbages hit the snakes dead-on, and an estimated sixty-three of them remain motionless. Not dead, just unconscious, as cabbages are not deadly projectiles no matter how hard you shoot them.

The snakes keep heading for the opposing army, and Bert screams, “Charge!”

Shrimps, buffalos, common loons, rhinos, tamarins, cows, and more trample two-hundred-sixty-four reptilian noodles. The head snako calls for a retreat. Bert’s militia hesitates, letting them fall back and re-group. Bert’s army is considerate, unlike the scaly, legless bodies.  

Instead of asking for a surrender, the snakes turn around, screeching, and attack again. Bert charges at them. The chemicals in the snakes’ lair had not only given him knowledge, but also some speed.  

Using his stout legs, Bert kicks those floppy worms out of the park! None of the snakes get even close to hurting Bert, he is just too fast. Cheering erupts from the Southern side. The North deflates and retreats again.

This time, only one fishy noodle comes back. He is wearing a lop-sided top hat and looks like a prestigious pirate.  

Heaving, he goes up to Bert. Bert quirks up a hairy eyebrow.  

“We surrender,” the sophisticated mustache-having snake breathes.

“I accept,” Bert responds, “But you must promise to leave the South alone. Stay back in the North with your failure of a capitalist economy.”

Johnny Smith, the snako, snarls but retreats, saying, “To the North!” His army dejectedly follows, slithering slowly. A cloud of dust appears and hides their retreat. Bert watches to make sure it was not a mask to hide a second attack. It was not. The sand settled, showing the snake structure’s door opening to let all the reptiles in.  

The Southern crowd cheers. No one is hurt and all is well! Bert is named Bert The Bird the Speedy and Slick and is unanimously proclaimed sheriff of Editing Reference File. He is now free to live his life as he chooses, saving the world and making uplifting speeches to his fellow citizens.  

Sometimes he struggles to feel satisfied with all the stress on his shoulders and misses his easy life back on the plains. He goes back sometimes and reminisces about the times where his head was empty, and a brain did not disrupt his inner peace.

But he remains in Editing Reference File as a hero (who can pay his federal income taxes.)

*The directions have nothing to do with the Civil War, my brother is paranoid and is making me put this here.

[smoakmonster]

G is for Gadgets and Gimmicks {3/3}

A/N:‌‌ ‌Well‌ ‌folks,‌ ‌the‌ ‌conclusion‌ ‌to‌ ‌my‌ ‌little‌ ‌bookstore‌ ‌AU‌ ‌is‌ ‌finally‌ ‌here!!‌ ‌Sorry‌ ‌for‌ ‌the‌ ‌extreme‌ ‌delay‌ ‌in‌ ‌finishing‌ ‌out‌ ‌this‌ ‌series.‌ ‌I‌ ‌appreciate‌ ‌all‌ ‌of‌ ‌your‌ ‌sweet‌ ‌responses‌ ‌to‌ ‌this‌ ‌fic.‌ ‌There’s‌ ‌just‌ ‌something‌ ‌so‌ ‌precious‌ ‌about‌ ‌fluffy‌ ‌Olicity,‌ ‌isn’t‌ ‌there?‌ ‌I‌ ‌hope‌ ‌you‌ ‌enjoy‌ ‌the‌ ‌wrap-up!‌ ‌Thank‌ ‌you‌ ‌again‌ ‌for‌ ‌reading!‌ 

‌Special‌ ‌thanks‌ ‌to:‌ ‌‌pleasantfanandstudent‌ ‌for‌ ‌this‌ ‌adorable‌ ‌cover‌ ‌art!‌ ‌

(Part‌ ‌1)‌ ‌(Part‌ ‌2)‌ ‌(Read‌ ‌on‌ ‌AO3)‌

***

com∙pro∙mise (v.)

3. to cause to become vulnerable or function less effectively

***

“Hey, the QR code on the door isn’t working, so do I still get the coupon?”

Oliver glances up from meticulously arranging rows of his latest mini-soufflé experiment to find a gangly teenage boy (probably a college freshman) watching him with expectation and just a hint of entitlement. 

He frowns, stifling a sigh. “The what?”

This has been happening a lot lately. Interruptions. Deep down, Oliver knows that any form of interruption is a good interruption, that droves of customers, albeit annoying ones, do not detract from his work, but rather are the purpose of it. Strangers mean business. They mean another day where he gets to make payroll and keep his archaic practice of second-hand bookselling from dying out. 

He’s not sure when or why or how his antiquated cardboard box of a business managed to draw this sudden influx of cantankerous college kids buried in cancer-causing gadgets, but he has his suspicions. Perhaps it has something to do with this QR...something? While Oliver may not understand ninety-percent of the latest digital discourse, he does know what a coupon is. And he’s pretty sure he would remember issuing said coupon. 

As though the fringes of his very thoughts have pulled her forth by a string, the oh-so-familiar staccato of heels on old wood flooring tears Oliver’s attention.

“I’ve got this,” Felicity says brightly, with a brief hand on his arm. She inserts herself into the conversation with ease, brushing past Oliver to smooth things over with the impatient customer. 

Her touch is so quick that for a second he thinks he might have imagined it. Only the warm buzzing just below the surface of skin is proof that it was real. In truth, her touch has become a more regular occurrence. This marks at least Number 10. Not that he’s keeping track. Not that his body even remembers. Every reaction is like the first time.

Simple, innocent little touches that cause his mind to stray to dangerous places. She probably has no idea the effect she has on him. 

Felicity suddenly peeks his way and shoots him a quick wink. Or more like her attempt a wink. The squinty-eyed delayed blink is so endearingly Felicity that Oliver has never had the desire to correct her. 

So maybe she has some idea.

Oliver shakes his head with a soft smile. He’s not sure when this happened, either, but somewhere along the way Felicity and he stopped exchanging the usual social greetings and formal pleasantries. Now, she just barges into his store with as much zeal and belonging as Thea. 

The conversion taking place directly in front of him quickly devolves into Domain Lookup and Cloud Networking, and a mere five sentences in Oliver finds himself on the periphery. Feeling inept and oddly foolish, as he so often does in the presence of Felicity Smoak, and yet also a bit bereft that this kid can keep up with her whirlwind trail of thoughts and he cannot, Oliver decides to venture into the nonfiction recesses of the store. The only safe haven he has left apparently. 

Oliver finds himself gravitating towards the cramped little nook nestled alongside the brick fireplace that’s been inoperable since Plymouth Rock (Thea’s words, not his). Last year on a whim, Oliver tried cleaning out the old fireplace and ended up drowning himself and the entire back of the store in soot. He spent days washing soot out his hair. Thea got a real kick out of that, dubbing the incident Gray Day.

Even now, it is not uncommon for the occasional customer to find a book sprinkled with the stuff and mistake it for dust. 

The conversation up front grows muffled, lending a calm stillness to this part of the store. Hardly anyone ever ventures back here, partly because the aisles are more narrow and the lighting is poor, and partly because according to Rene it smells like a murder happened here. As if the kid knows what a murder smells like. 

Personally, Oliver kind of likes the pine and leather aroma. It reminds him of simpler times, when Dad and he would go camping in the woods every summer. Oliver chuckles, remembering what a poor sport he could be and how patiently Dad taught him how to start a fire and set up a tent. He’d give anything to get more days like that with his father. More days at all, really.

What would it be like to get away like that again? Even just for a weekend? To go somewhere off-grid, no cell reception, no emails, no internet or WiFi or QR Codes or...

A flash of yellow binding catches his eye, and Oliver spots a book haphazardly stuffed on the third shelf. Carefully, he yanks the book out and reads the cover. Beginning Programming for Dummies. 

A huff escapes him. It seems he can’t get away fast enough. 

Curiosity getting the better of him, Oliver flips through the book, hopelessly searching, but not really wanting anything to stick. Maybe something in here will remind him of Felicity. Maybe if he can find even one word embedded in all these hieroglyphics, he’ll be able to make more sense of her world and actually be able to communicate with her about the things that are important to her. 

But with every turn of the page, every heading and diagram just serves to confuse him all the more. With a frustrated groan, Oliver slams the book shut and attempts to shove it back into its tight crevice; at this point, he couldn’t care less if the book’s misshelved. 

“Hey, what did that book ever do to you?”

Oliver stills. Her voice both jars and soothes him. 

Feeling strangely guilty, he turns around but has trouble meeting her gaze, stuffing his hands into his pockets, as though he’s been caught cutting up in Mrs. Hannoven’s fourth grade class again. “Sorry,” he mumbles. 

Felicity tips her head, wearing that adorably confused pout of hers. “I’m not sure I’m the one who needs you to apologize.” 

“Oh. Um…” Does she seriously want him to apologize to a book?

“What I mean is…” She takes several steps closer to him and has the decency of a saint to wait until he’s looking her in the eye before she continues. “Oliver, I’m sorry.”

“What?” What on earth could she possibly have to be sorry for? 

“I shouldn’t have pushed for the QR codes. I knew it was too soon, but I just got so excited after all of my contacts agreed to help sponsor your website. And then, during a webinar last Thursday there was this study that said QR codes can help increase foot traffic by upwards of 30%. And I thought, ‘Hey, that seems like it could work for my friend Oliver’—I hope it’s not too presumptuous that I called you my friend. We are friends, right? Of course we’re friends, what else would we be? It’s not like we’re exactly colleagues or anything—”

“Felicity.” He rests his hands on her shoulders, effectively halting her ramble, a tried and true tact. And if she happens to shift a bit closer to him as a result, well, who is he to stop her?

He likes this about them. That in this one, predictable way he can give her the same sense of quiet security she gives him.  

“Yes, we are friends,” he says, giving her a slight smile, the finality of the word friends sinking into his gut. After all, it’s like she said. What else could they be? She is so many leagues out of his league. He's t-ball, and she's the Seattle Mariners. He doesn’t even own a digital watch, much less a smart watch. What could she possibly want with a guy like him?

Clearing his throat, Oliver moves on, “And I don’t know if I’ve said this to you yet, but...thank you. I really do appreciate everything you’ve done to help me out here.”

“Really?” That tentative, searching look makes him want to pull her close and wrap her up in his arms. She only wears that look when she’s seeking approval. She wears it a lot around him. Though why she’s still aching for his approval is beyond him. She’s had his approval and more since that first rainy Sunday. 

“Yeah. Although I do have to ask…”

Felicity raises her eyebrows. 

“When did I start offering coupons?”

“Oh. Um...since last week?”

“Uh-huh,” he nods, not wanting to cave just yet but secretly pleased. It’s a smart ploy, even if it was never part of his original plan. So much of their relationship and business schemes are way outside the bounds of his original plans. And he’s a better person for it. 

Looking a little too pleased with herself, Felicity reaches into her pocket, pulls out a slip of memo pad paper, and hands it to him.

“What’s this?”

“It’s a list of all the computer science books you need to stock up on before the Starling University summer quarter starts up. There’s an Advanced Algorithms course that’s only offered once a year, and I have it on good authority that the college bookstore never carries enough textbooks. And let’s be honest, your computer science section is lacking. Pretty much all of your STEM material, actually.”

Oliver huffs a laugh. “What are you, my sales rep?”

“I could be.” She gives him a knowing look, telling him he can either waste time arguing with her about this or just accept the inevitable. 

And after altering all the basic mechanics of his store, what are a few additional books really going to do? 

“In the meantime, let’s see this little guy back to his proper home.” Felicity proceeds to extricate his paperback nemesis and saunter further down the narrow aisle, looking for the right Dewey Decimal destination. 

“I also think we should advertise at the grad school,” she calls over her shoulder.

“We?” he replies, following her down the aisle.

“Yeah, bring in some study groups. Do you know there is a perfectly good History and English Literature study hall that meets at the Starbucks around the corner, when they could be meeting here?”

“No. No. I don’t do study groups.” He’s caved on a lot of things, but there has to be a line somewhere. And so help him, if this is the hill he has to die on to preserve even one ounce of dignity, then so be it. 

“Since when?”

“Since always. Felicity, they’re a bunch of toddlers who leave scone crumbs all over the floor and never actually buy any books.”

Felicity just chuckles at him, and if he were in a better mood he might actually be able to enjoy the sweet sound. “Oliver, stop being such a grumpy old man.” 

“No, Felicity, I think—”

She’s already moving up the ladder before he can stop her. The rickety, unstable pile of firewood that technically qualifies as a ladder he’s been harassing Rene about pitching for months. Honestly, he’d all but forgotten it was still tucked away back here. 

While she makes her way up the rungs, Oliver latches onto the base, holding the ladder firmly in place. With an excruciating amount of restraint that he barely even knew he had in him, Oliver watches her heels lift up and settle on each rung, all the while discreetly avoiding a glance at her pencil skirt. Not even a peek.

The ladder shakes as Felicity engages in a wrestling match with the top shelf. “It. Won’t. Go. In,” she says through gritted teeth. Finally, on the third push, Felicity lets out a strong exhale of relief. After wiping her hands, she makes her descent. 

Like a hawk following its prey, Oliver keeps his gaze glued to her feet. Even so, he’s still not quite prepared when one of those black t-straps slips, throwing her off balance and tumbling straight into his arms. 

“Oliver!”

He catches her easily, pulling her soft frame snuggly against him. Felicity wastes no time in wrapping her arms tightly around his neck. “Hey, I gotcha. I gotcha.” 

Her head plops against his shoulder, her warm, rapid breaths tickling his neck. He tightens his own grip around her back and under her knees, as if to reassure himself that she’s alright. 

“You okay?” he finally asks.

Her only answer is to press her cheek more deeply into his shirt, her soft hair nuzzling against his jaw. He catches a faint whiff of her strawberry shortcake shampoo.  

“My hero,” she breathes without a trace of humor. 

I’m no hero, he wants to say. It’s his gut reaction any time a single mom commends him for his “Cool Books” section that finally got her teenage son to try a book of his own accord. As though selling books can compare with saving lives every day. His greatest risk comes in the form of avoiding papercuts. And rescuing toppling patrons apparently. 

Selfishly, he’s currently enjoying the feel of Felicity in his arms a little too much to be considered a hero. Can she feel his own racing heartbeat beneath her ear? 

He clears his throat but fails to put any real distance between them without releasing her. He’s not ready for that just yet. He’ll prolong the sweet agony for as long as physically possible. 

“Well, this is a bit compromising,” he admits. 

“Compromising?” She snickers, lifting her head, a spark of mirth shining behind her eyes that wasn’t there before. “What are you, a Jane Austen character?”

“Blame Thea. She made me read them. It was in our original founders’ agreement. I have the contract to prove it.”

If you’re going to own a bookstore, Ollie, then you have to know who Mr. Darcy is. It’s a requirement. Plus, it’s catnip for women. Nothing gets girls more excited than if you acknowledge the perfection of Jane Austen protagonists.

That knowledge has never served him until this moment. Until Felicity.

He still hasn’t liberated her, and she seems in no hurry to be free of him. His ego far too eagerly takes note of that. 

“Are you making an actual joke, Mr. Queen?” Her smile is contagious. “You know, if this were a novel, this would be the part where we would um…” She flushes, her gaze suddenly faltering to his mouth. 

His heart jumps to his throat, pounding with misguided hope. While he’s not an avid reader, despite his self-appointed line of work, he can read between the lines now. And he knows Felicity well enough to know that she only ever blushes over accidental innuendos.

She can’t really mean it. Can she?

“Where what?” he asks gruffly, not trusting himself to crave more than she is ready to give him, yet aching for a way to turn fiction into a reality, to give Felicity Smoak her happy ending. And maybe find his own in the process. 

She doesn’t pull away. She doesn’t correct her misstep. She just watches him with a strange and quiet expectancy. 

Oliver gently shifts his hold, bringing her a bit closer, leaning down to meet her. The tip of his nose brushes against hers, and when she lingers there with him, it’s all the invitation he needs…

“Hey, boss, we got a spill behind the counter!”

Felicity starts in his arms, and Oliver very nearly groans. Of all the times for Rene to interrupt him. The spill is probably minor. How many times does he need to remind his employees that if you make a mess, you should just clean it up yourself?

“Ollie?” calls Thea. Her voice comes from far too nearby for his comfort. It must be a real pickle if Rene’s managed to rope his sister into the ordeal. 

Reluctantly, Oliver loosens his grip on Felicity, and she slides right out of his arms with a graceful plop, returning their difference in height to its usual status. The top of her head aligning with the level of his heart. 

“I uh…” His entire vocabulary seems to have vacated his brain at present, leaving him feeling ten times more abashed than he was ten minutes ago. 

Felicity tucks a golden strand behind her ear, still dodging his regard with robust persistence. “Yeah, you should go...take care of that…”

He nods once, not that she notices. As he slowly turns to walk away, she stops him with a simple question. 

“Same time tomorrow?”

He really should not put much stock in the hope her voice carries. But he can’t seem to stifle the grin spreading over his face when he glances back over his shoulder. “Same time tomorrow.”

***

Thea pulls out a small chalkboard from under the counter, erases the number ‘1’ with her fist, and then writes a ‘2’ in its place. The sign now reads “12 Days Since Last Attempt To Date.”

Scowling, Oliver is almost too afraid to ask. “Thea...what is that?”

His sprite of a sister proudly places a hand on her hip. “This, dear brother, is a record of the number of days since you last tried asking Felicity out on a date.”

“What?” A flicker of panic rushes through him. What does she know? She can’t know about the almost-kiss. Besides, that wasn’t twelve days ago. Again, not that he’s keeping track. He opts for being as evasive as possible. “And when was the last time I supposedly did this?”

“That day you bought Big Belly Burger for the entire staff as a thank you for staying late to reorganize the science section. You gave Felicity the burger with extra pickles that mysteriously ended up in the bag—even though, last I checked, she does not work here.”

She gives him that pointed look, the one she usually wears when she’s guarding a straight. They really need to have a discussion about the merits of a refined poker face. 

“That wasn’t a date, Speedy.”

“Hence the word attempt.”

Oliver shakes his head, returning his focus to the monotonous task of counting the till. Where was he again? Oh yeah, the fives. Five, ten, fifteen, twenty, twenty-five…

Once he’s got that row tallied, he finally tells Thea, “Felicity and I...we’re just friends.” The words burn his throat. Felicity might think of him as nothing more than a chum, but after that near-kiss nestled behind the dusty stacks, Oliver has ceased lying to himself about his feelings, resigned to this new, unrequited reality. 

“Sure.” He can feel her eye roll. “Friends who just happen to spend all of their free time together and buy each other beverages and have inside jokes—”

His head snaps up. “We don’t have any inside jokes.”

“Really? Then how do you explain this?” Thea holds up the cassette player tape dispenser Felicity got him as a gag gift. He still has no idea where she stumbled upon the trinket. Using her internet prowess no doubt. 

Oliver snatches it out of Thea’s hands while purposefully searching for anything in need of repair, as if to justify its very existence. “Our old tape dispenser broke.” 

“Uh-huh. And what about that little emoji keychain you bought her? The one with the glasses on it?”

Oliver shrugs. “It just...reminded me of her, that’s all. It didn’t mean anything.”

Thea is clearly ready to keep arguing, but Rene wanders over with a pastry order for one of the offices across the street. For once in his life, Oliver is grateful for Rene’s keen ability to interfere with his private conversations and begins boxing up the order. His heart does a strange flip when he recognizes the usual list. 

Unfortunately, Thea remains undeterred. “Hey, Felicity works there, right? I’m sure you could swing by for a quick visit.”

“Thea.”

“Don’t ‘Thea’ me. This is a good idea! Just tell her you were in the building and wanted to see if she’s available to go out to dinner this weekend. Easy.” 

“I work on the weekends. You know that.”

“And you could schedule yourself some time off once in a while. You are the boss. Plus, you’ve built this place so that even Rene can practically run it with his eyes closed.”

Both Rene and Oliver shoot her a look. 

“Alright, I said practically.”

Rene grunts his agreement, stuffing the to-go box to the brim with chocolate chip muffins. “You know, she’s got a point. You could think of this delivery as a trial run. You bring the order across the street, while Thea and I monitor the store. If all goes well, then you might feel comfortable enough to take a more extended break in the future.” 

“You’re just trying to spend more alone time with my sister, aren’t you?”

Rene smiles, guilty as charged. “There’s no reason why we can’t both be winners here.”

Oliver sighs. “Thea?”

Thea chuckles, crossing her arms. “Don’t worry, Ollie, I can handle him.”

Still he hesitates, running his thumb back and forth over the box, the box he’s supposed to bring to her workplace. He has so much more riding on this than a mismanaged store in his absence.

“I’ll be back in twenty minutes. Do not burn down the store while I’m gone.”

***

“Ms. Smoak?”

“One second, Curtis. This alphanumeric algorithm isn’t going to crack itself.” Huddled in front of the monitor and nibbling on the remnants of a Twizzler, Felicity has been doing the digital tango for the last hour. 

“Well, I hope you get cracking in the next ten minutes, because Coffee and Coding is about to start.” 

“We have Coffee and Coding on Wednesdays,” she dismisses without tearing her gaze from the screen. 

“It is Wednesday,” says Curtis.

Felicity darts a glance at her IT Director, who just lifts his eyebrows in confirmation. Flustered, she pushes up her glasses. “But who ordered the pastries?”

“I did,” Curtis admits. “Don’t worry, I didn’t forget to call your favorite little coffee shop around the corner. Or across the street in this case. Can you believe they still don’t have online ordering?”

A pang of disappointment flutters through her. While it’s not much, Felicity has come to treasure her little Wednesday morning ritual, an easy excuse in her routine to spend more time with Oliver. 

Still, it’s not like they don’t see each other an ample amount of time during the week anyway. Though after The Incident a few days ago, things between them have been different, more uncertain than usual. He hasn’t been avoiding her exactly; he just seems a bit...distant. Like he’s carrying a secret he doesn’t know how to share yet. Takes one to know one. The mystery has been driving her crazy. 

She’s also been racking her brain for the perfect scenario to recreate that heated moment they shared after her Humpty Dumpty debacle. But the trouble is...as soon as she hints at the depth of her feelings, she’s going to have to tell him everything. 

Hey Oliver, so you know how you assumed that I was an Executive Assistant, and I never corrected you? Well, the thing is I’m actually more like the CEO of a product-pushing conglomerate that is slowly encroaching on everything you know and love. Do you want to go out sometime?

Ugh. A stealthy flirter she is not.

So maybe today’s mishap is for the best. A chance for her to rally some gumption and figure out how to phrase her affections while still salvaging their fledgling friendship. 

The workshop will likely provide plenty of opportunity to strategize. Denise tends to drone on and on about the benefits of heapsort every time it’s her turn to talk, so the redundant lecture will afford Felicity added time to do some real romantic brainstorming. 

Sufficiently mollified, Felicity pops up out of her chair and strolls towards the conference room. 

“The food just arrived,” says Jerry as soon as she’s outside her office. 

She stumbles to a halt, blinking at her executive assistant. He says it so casually, as though her entire, perfectly orchestrated little enterprise isn’t coming crumbling down around her by one bakery blunder. 

“What? Now? Here?” She’s pretty sure she’s having a stroke. Although her ability to remain upright negates that possibility. But what good is logic at a time like this? 

Of all the truth-telling scenarios she had running through her head, this was not one of them.  

This is why she never asked for delivery! Why she personally has placed and picked up every order.

Okay, no need to panic. This is no different than any of the other work-related conflicts she has resolved in the past. Of course, those were mostly software issues, but surely the skills are transferable. She’ll just have to insist that Rene not breathe a word of this to Oliver until she has a chance to talk to him later. This afternoon, in fact. She can come up with an adequate confession by then. 

That cursory idea gets zapped the moment she turns the corner and finds the apropos man of the hour waiting in the hallway. Oh frack. 

Every blessed thought evaporates straight out of her skull. Only one person on the planet has this effect on her. 

As though it’s been days and not mere hours since she’s seen him last, hungrily her eyes feast on every part of him, from his golden-brown hair with little flecks of gray that he likes to pretend aren’t there, to those broad shoulders and sturdy arms beneath that favored blue henley. She remembers far too well what it’s like being wrapped up in those arms, all snug and safe and wonderful.

Then she starts to catalog his overall uneasy demeanor, hands stuffed into his pockets, shoulders rigid with discomfort. 

Guilt pricks her heart. He looks a little lost. 

She tries to observe her office through his eyes. Surrounded by glass walls, open and exposed. Screens scrolling with tech lingo. Not a single paper product in sight or dusty nook to duck behind. Everything is quite literally the opposite of his usual environment. And it has never been more apparent how contrary their lives are. 

All this time, she’s been invading his world and never once has he stepped into hers. Because she wouldn’t invite him. Not until she was ready. She’s driven them to this precipice. Her little lie is the grain of sand slowly corrupting the motherboard, eroding their communication from the inside out. Some friend she is. 

And yet, him braving the unknown and everything he opposes just to come and see her has to mean something, right? 

“Should we wait for you?” asks Curtis.

Felicity shakes her head, keeping her focus on Oliver. “I’m not going to make the meeting.”

“Well in that case, can I have your muffin? Because you know I’ve been working out in the mornings, and my tummy is a rumblin’—”

“Curtis!”

“Okay. Okay.”

Footsteps retreat into the conference room, until at last the door closes, encasing them in peaceful silence. 

Swallowing, Felicity hedges closer to him, the clank of her heels echoing down the long hallway. “Hi,” she says when she’s standing just a foot away from him.

“Hi.” He’s looking at her in that soft, affable way of his, making her heart short-circuit. 

She has a masters degree in cyber security, and she’s taken many a profit-hungry board member to task, so why can’t she seem to come up with a better conversation starter than ‘hi’ ?

But Oliver, her sweet friend, saves her from her own awkward web of absurdity. “So...” he begins, nodding to the wall in between the elevators. The wall covered in bold, betraying letters Smoak Technologies. 

Oh crap on a cracker. He knows. Already. Duh, Felicity, he walked into your building, you know this. The man can read. What did you expect? 

Felicity slams her eyes shut and blurts, “I can explain.”

“You don’t have to explain.”

“I know it was wrong. And I hope you know that I would never want to take advantage of your friendship, and that my lying to you has nothing to do with you and everything to do with me. I was afraid that if you knew the truth that I would lose you—”

“Felicity, hey.” Oliver’s hands, solid and steady, grip her shoulders. She has no right to draw from his comforting warmth. “You’re not going to lose me.”

She licks her lips, daring to meet his gaze again. She’s startled to find those bright blue eyes looking back at her full of sympathy, absent of judgment. “Are you sure? Because I’m pretty sure I’ve broken every cardinal rule in the friendship book.”

His face softens. “I don’t care that you lied to me. I don’t. I care...that somehow I made you feel like you had to.” He sighs, his voice deepening to a near whisper. “Why didn’t you just tell me?”

Felicity fights a wince and loses. “Because I...I kind of liked not being a CEO for a few minutes a day? It was nice. Freeing. And I didn’t know how you would react to the fact that basically my entire livelihood stands for everything you hate—”

“I never said I hated it.”

Felicity tilts her head playfully. “No, you just loathe the mere suggestion of technological advancement.”  

Oliver chuckles. “Fair enough.”

“So you’re not mad?” 

As he shakes his head, relief and elation spill through her. 

Not for the first time, Felicity is grateful that her charming literary companion is truly a good person. And not just the kind of good where he’s friendly toward impatient customers or gracious with incompetent employees—although, he is that, too. But his integrity runs so much deeper; it’s the core of who he is. Modest and generous. Forgiving to a fault. 

Oliver fundamentally embodies all that her corporate associates do not. Is it any wonder she was so drawn to him from the very beginning? 

She may have ruined her chances for anything more than friendship to develop between them, but as long as he remains in her life, she’ll be happy. She can settle for cordial camaraderie. Besides, it won’t feel like settling with him. Not really. Not completely. At least, she’ll convince herself of that sooner or later. 

Oliver withdraws his hands, leaving an alarming coolness tingling on her arms. Instantly she misses his touch. 

She watches in puzzled silence as Oliver shifts his weight, clears his throat, and suddenly evades her look. He’s nervous, she realizes. How did she not notice sooner?

Because you’ve been a little too preoccupied with yourself, Felicity, that’s how. 

“Listen, Felicity…I came by because I was in the neighborhood. But I guess I’m always in the neighborhood. You don’t need to be told that.” 

Felicity bites her bottom lip to hold back a smile. He’s awfully cute when he’s flustered.

“I know I’m just an obsolete bookstore owner, with no degree, and you…” He glances around the hallway, as though the point he’s trying to make is engraved on the walls somewhere. 

“And I what?” she prompts, a sudden burst of panic flaring in her chest, more terrified than anything that he’s never going to finish that sentence.

Oliver studies the screens for a long time, his gaze finally coming to rest back on her, and what she sees there makes her want to hold on to him and never let go. “You’re going to change the world,” he says. “You’ve already changed mine. For the better, I might add. But, I don’t know, maybe our worlds are just too different.”

“But I don’t care about the differences, and I thought you didn’t either.”

“I don’t!”

Everyone in the conference room can probably hear their conversation by now, but that is a low priority issue. All she cares about is Oliver. 

“Okay, so then what are we arguing about?”

“Felicity…you should be with someone who deserves you, someone who won’t hold you back.”

“That’s what you came up here to tell me? Oliver, what I deserve is up to me.” 

He dodges her look again, and she can feel him retreating, feel the invisible barrier he’s erected between them. 

Not one to forfeit so easily, Felicity calmly sidles up to him and lays a bold hand on his chest, right over his heart. “Please, Oliver,” she whispers. “Ask me what you really came here for. Whatever it is, I’ll say yes.”

“Promise?” 

Her inability to read his face scares her more than anything. “Promise.”

He sighs, and an anxiously long time passes before he says, “Felicity, would you like to go camping?”

She starts. “What? You want to drag me out into the woods with your sister—”

“Thea will not be there.” 

“Oh.” Nibbling on the inside of her cheek, Felicity processes this information before it dawns on her. “Oh.”

Oliver nods faintly, as though he can hear the flurry of questions her heart is suddenly screaming. 

“Are you asking me out on a date? Like an actual date? Like a date...date?”

“I mean, the implication with me standing here…” He bobs his head around, like he can’t really decide whether to confirm or deny that. She’s really put the poor guy through the ringer today. 

“Or we could go hiking,” he suggests with a shrug. 

“Hiking?”

“Yeah, there’s a great trail about an hour north of the city. My dad and I used to go there all the time. There are waterfalls and plenty of wildlife.  I should warn you, though, that it’s near impossible to send or receive phone calls in our spot.” 

He wants to take her to his special haunt? Her heart twists with bittersweet excitement. She deceives him, and he rewards her by sharing yet another coveted piece of his history. 

How can this man think he’s not worthy of her? If anything, their situation is exactly reversed. What are gadgets and gizmos compared to goodwill and grandeur? 

With more boldness than she thought herself capable of, Felicity meticulously wraps her arms around Oliver’s waist, leaning her head way back to keep eye contact with him. “Well, Mr. Queen, that sounds perfect. So...am I forgiven?” she whispers, pinching her lips together.

His own lips twitch as he follows her movements and pulls her close. “Always.” 

***

“I like you like this,” Felicity tells him, following his lead down the winding, rocky trail, her hand snuggly wrapped around his. 

“Like what?”

“I don’t know, sort of Man Versus Wild.”

He laughs, a loud, rich melody that vibrates through the core of her being. 

She’ll admit she was curious to see what side of Oliver the great outdoors would bring forth, and reality did not disappoint. Out here, away from the chaotic noise and hustle and bustle, he seems so...free. Happy. Like he’s really alive for the first time. And she feels privileged that she’s the one he chose to let so close to him.

The perks of the great outdoors have surprised her, too. Not once has she missed the ding of her cell phone. 

They stop for a break on a small cliff ridge (small according to Oliver, anyway) overlooking a waterfall and a trickling stream. The views today have been glorious. All of the views, she thinks, sneaking a peek at the man beside her. 

Though he doesn’t turn, he squeezes her hand once, and there’s a slight flicker at the corner of his lips, acknowledging that he can feel her ogling him unabashedly. She gets to do that kind of thing now, though. 

“I’m thinking of closing the bookstore,” he admits, causing her to trip over a branch in shock. His grip steadies her, and then he motions towards a large rock. Once they’re sitting beside each other, he continues. “I’ll turn the business into a full-time bakery and cafe. It’s something I probably should’ve done a long time ago. You were right.” He glances her way, wearing a reluctant half-smile. 

Reeling, all Felicity can say is, “Are you sure?”

“I’m sure. You were right about the QR codes, too.” He leans in conspiratorially. “Our weekly customer traffic is up 25%, and the sales reflect that the majority of those purchases are from the coffeeshop. Just seems like the smartest decision.”

“But Oliver, don’t you love the bookshop side of things? Helping people find their next go-to read?” 

He shrugs. “Sure. But I love staying in business more.”

Felicity doesn’t understand it, but the thought of never smelling second-hand pages or stumbling over disarrayed book stacks sends a pang of longing through her. “Well, it sounds like you’ve given this a lot of thought.”

“I have,” he confirms. 

“But will it make you happy?”

He hesitates. “It’ll give me some stability to put Thea through college. That’ll make me happy.”

He’s so selfless, it breaks her heart a little every time she beholds that soft underbelly of his gentle nature. She wonders what other secret dreams he’s sacrificed over the years to provide for his sister and his employees. And maybe even for her. If she gets her wish, she plans to return the favor and help make his tucked-away dreams come true. First she has to discover what they are.

Shuffling closer, Felicity rests her head on his shoulder. “You know, I hate to break this to you, but bakeries are just as liable to collapse as bookstores. You can never fully predict the market, even in the most stable of economies.”

“I need information about what I don’t know,” he says in her ear. 

She perks up. “What about a compromise?”

“Compromise?”

“Yeah, it’s where two parties agree on a mutually desirable outcome.”

He chuckles, the hearty sound warming her down to her toes. “I know what a compromise is, Felicity. What did you have in mind?”

“Well, you’ll be happy to hear that I have converted the entire IT department over to the ways of Verdant-roasted coffee. We could make you the official sponsor of our weekly Coffee and Coding. Think of all the free advertising that will bring.”

“I don’t want any handouts, Felicity.”

“It’s not a handout if it’s good business,” she argues, pleased to see him giving it some genuine consideration. After a long time of companionable silence and sharing a water bottle, she says, “And if all else fails, there’s always the kindle route.”

She giggles at the dismissive look he shoots her before growing serious again. “Don’t give up, Oliver. Your little bookstore...it’s changed my life. You opened up my heart to ideas and worlds that I didn’t even know were possible.”

Pulse hammering in her throat, she wonders if he catches her accidental revelation, that the depth of her urgency has far less to do with treasured paperbacks than it does her utter dependency on him. 

“A compromise. It could work.” He nods to himself. “Speaking of…” He slips his hand into his back pocket. 

“What are you doing?”

Oliver pulls out a phone. A shiny, non-retrograde phone. 

Felicity gasps. “Since when do you have a smartphone?”

“Thea got it for me after she spilt a latte on my old phone. I’m choosing to believe it was an accident.”

“That is very sensible of you.”

“We could take a photo,” he suggests.

“You mean with the front-facing camera? That, my friend, is called a Selfie.”

He scowls. “I don’t think I’m ready to say that word. Baby steps.” After an arduously humorous struggle, with Felicity patiently helping him navigate all the buttons, Oliver finally manages to snap a photo or two or twelve. 

While she’s fairly certain the majority of the photos turn out blurry, they take an unnatural amount of fun in making ridiculous faces at the camera anyway. “Okay, you have to delete that one.” She points to a photo that paints her in a particularly unattractive light. 

Oliver studies the picture fondly. “Can’t. I don’t know how.”

“Here, then let me.” 

He holds the phone out of her reach. “Oh, so you can delete all of them?”

“Not all of them, just the ones that make me look bad.”

“Felicity…” he says her name as if it explains everything. And suddenly he’s not laughing anymore, though his eyes still carry a spark of secret amusement. “Let me have this keepsake.”

Keepsake. Such an old-fashioned word from this unconventional man. If Oliver were a book, he would be just like those scuffed up, intimidating volumes he’s always trying to convince novice readers to sample. Judged for his strange and rough exterior, yet guarding a mysterious sweetness and—more than he will admit—gooey epicenter. You just have to crack the spine and ruffle a few pages to get there. 

“Felicity…” Just the way he says her name makes her feel like she could do anything so long as he’s with her. 

He leans in just enough to let her know his intent, but stops halfway, leaving the final choice to her. What a gentleman he is. And like all the great heroines, Felicity doesn’t let him do all the work. She meets his kiss eagerly, pouring out in little touches what they’re both unsure to say out loud at this early stage.

But she knows it. Deep down in her bones, she knows she loves him. And she can feel his love in the way he responds. 

What a risk she’s taken, giving her heart to the most anti-technology human on planet earth. She has a feeling the dividends will be well worth it. 

***

Tag Team: @angelalafan / @austencello / @dust2dust34 / @emeraldoliverqueen​ / @hope-for-olicity​ / @mel-loves-all​ / @memcjo​ / @releaseurinhibitions​ / @scu11y22​ / @smoakqueenz​

[rogueariadne]

To Have A Villain’s Quirk

SEVENTEEN: JEALOUS

Song: White Dress - Parachute

"After fifteen minutes to pick teammates and talk strategy, twelve cavalry teams are preparing to go head-to-head!" Mic's voice rang through the stadium as the timer went off, catching Kaida's attention as her team prepared, hoisting up Shinso to be their rider. In that time, Kaida still couldn't figure out what was going with with Ojiro and the student from 1-B, but as he commanded them, it clicked. He was using his quirk. But why wouldn't he use it on her? Maybe there was a limit? She didn't even know what kind of quirk it was but it was some type of mind control. "Come on, everyone get your hands in the air! It's time for an arena-thumping UA battle royale! Let me hear ya scream!"

As the teams gathered around the battle field, Kaida carefully gripped the boys leg, smirking. In the extra time they had left, it gave Kaida the chance to fuel back up, her power back to one hundred percent. Sure, she was still worn out from the previous round, but the amount of flesh she ingested put her back on top to be able to deal with her classmates. Bakugo and Midoriya would be the easiest ones to deal with, seeing as she has somewhat trained with both of them, and she at least knows the fighting styles of the rest of her class.

"Okay, all you first years! I hope you're happy with your chosen teams! Let's get this party started! One final countdown before the game starts!" As Mic started the countdown from three, she felt a small tap to her head, her looking up at Hitoshi.

"Defense." It was just one word but she knew what he wanted.

"Begin!" Quirk activated, four tails swirled around her team to protect them, two other tails watching their backs. Just like every other team, they were after Midoriya, picking up the pace until they took off into the air thanks to the support course's equipment. With every team distracted, Kaida took the opportunity to try to steal headbands along the way, using her extended arms to her advantage. Her team was mostly passing the others by, taking headbands when they could. They weren't too focused on getting to Midoriya now like some of the others were. It was only the halfway point, and their best bet was to really wait it out, with how many points they had at the moment. They should be okay. With the other teams getting frozen over, Shinso was happy to take some of their headbands away.

"Only one minute left! Todoroki has cornered the ten-million-point team and is poised to seize the ultimate prize! At least, that's what I would have predicted five minutes ago!" Todoroki cornered Midoriya's team? There's no way he'd be beaten in strategy by them.. Izuku's too smart for his own good sometimes. There's just no way.. "Unbelievably, Team Midoriya's been able to keep away from the ice master for the last half of the game!"

"Wo-ho-ho! What just happened?! That was one big blur!" Her team came to a stop, looking in the direction of the ice walls. "Holy smokes, folks! Why didn't he show that super speed in the preliminaries?" That had to be talking about Iida? She was dying to know what happened, as time was almost up. "Insanity! This entire game was just turned completely on its head! Todoroki's team has the ten million points, and Midoriya's team is suddenly left with nothing at all!"

"What..?" A couple of tails disappeared from shock, Shinso quickly tapping her head again.

"Focus."

"Ah, right." But she didn't need to.

"Time's up! And with that, the second round is officially over! Now, let's take a look at who our top four teams are!" She let the boy down, stepping aside as they all stared up at the leader board, fingers crossed. "In first place, Team Todoroki! In second place, Team Bakugo! In third place is Tetsute- Wait, what?" Some of the cameras were met with two very confused boys, and the smirks of Kaida and Hitoshi. "It's Team Shinso? When did they come back from the dead?"

"Thanks for all your help." The boy said, walking away from the group while Kaida crossed her arms, turning to look at Ojiro. He was staring, terrified, after the other.

"And in fourth place is Team Midoriya!" So, he did advance! She grinned up at the cameras, seeing the boy in question crying a fountain. "These four valiant teams will advance on to the final round! Now, let's take an hour lunch break before we start the afternoon festivities! See ya soon!"

"Uh, hey.. Hiyama..?"

"Hm?" She turned her gaze to her blond teammate, tilting her head in question. "Mashi, are you okay?"

"What.. happened?" It was almost as if he was scared.

"We, our team made it to the finals. Do you not remember?"

"I.." He glanced away from her, her following his eyes after Shinso. "I just remember him asking me to join.. then nothing." She looked between the two before looking down.

"Hm..."

*

"Hi-To-Shi~!" The boy in question heard footsteps pounding behind him, getting closer down the outside corridor. He shuffled to a stop as he turned, only to be greeted with the female he had teamed up with during the cavalry battle, her waving away and catching up with him. "Hey!"

"Ya know it's rude to use first names with people you don't know well?" She only tilted her head, coming to a stop just a few feet away from him.

"Really? But, I thought you called your friends by their first names?"

"I don't recall us being friends." She had a warped concept of friendship, seeing as she called most of her classmates by their first names, and they never once complained, so she figured that made them friends. And that Hitoshi didn't stop her when she gave him a nickname.

"Oh. Hm.." She glanced away for a moment, a small frown coming to her face. "Your quirk.. it's some kind of mind control, isn't it? That's how you got Ojiro and the boy from 1-B on your team."

"You put that together from very little evidence?" He had a brow raised in question, a small smirk trying to form. She just shrugged.

"It's a gift. Anyways.." She looked away, watching a few small rodents run up and down the trees. "How come you didn't use it on me? Wouldn't that have benefited you more?"

"Did you want me to?" She snapped her gaze back to him, shaking her head quickly and taking a step forward.

"No, that's not wh-!" What was happening? She couldn't move, or say anything.

"Because I didn't need to tell you what to do, you already knew. But now, go away." She felt her body, turning around to head back to where she came from.

'No, no, no! Stop! What are you doing?! I wasn't finished talking!' She tried to yell out but she didn't make a sound as she disappeared back into the building. Once around the corner, she felt his quirk stop working, her being able to move freely. She gasped and ran back to where they were talking, only for him to be gone. "Dammit!"

She wandered around the grounds, weaving through the crowds and looking at all of the booths and festivities they had set up. It was pretty amazing. She had never really gone to a festival, let alone a school festival. So, walking around, she distracted herself with the chatter and the laughter. It was so cheery, light hearted. Though it was a happy atmosphere, she couldn't shake the feeling that she was being followed. There were so many people, it had to be her imagination. Right?

"Excuse me!" Kaida jumped as a hand clamped around her arm, head swiveling around to meet wide golden eyes. "Hi! You're one of the first years that are moving onto the finals round, aren't you?"

"Ah.. yeah, I am!" She'll admit, Kaida was a little freaked out. A girl comes out of no where and won't get out of her personal space, almost fawning over her. She guessed that her expression was enough for the girl to let go, giggling a little.

"I'm sorry, am i making you uncomfortable? My bad~! I'm just a big fan! Your quirk is so cool! And you're really pretty, you remind me of someone. What was your name again?" The blonde bounced a little, tilting her head with a toothy smile.

"Oh, I'm Kaida. Hiyama-"

"Hiyama. Hiyama. Oh! Like Kaori Hiyama! That's who you look like!"

"That's my mom, you know my mom?" She was a little shocked, she had never heard anything from her mom about any kids she might've known. Kaori was mostly a stay at home mom, but normally went out every other day to do shopping or the like. Her side of the family was never really in town, and she never knew her dad's family.

"That's your mom?! I see her in town all the time! She's super nice and always gives me snacks if we run into each other!"

"Ha.. yeah, that kinda sounds like her." She scratched the back of her neck, slipping a hand into her pocket. The pretty girl in front of her grinned, nodding away as she clapped her hands.

"We should definitely hang out sometime, I think we could be really great friends!" She looked behind her before grabbing Kaida's hands in hers. "I gotta go but hopefully we'll see each other again! Bye-bye lil' sis!"

"Wait but I don't even know.. your.. name.." Kaida called out to the girl but she had already disappeared into the crowd. She sighed, playing with her hair as she turned to go back to the stadium. The lunch hour was almost up, and she didn't know what else to do. What could she do besides wait? She could always find Shinso, she wasn't done talking with him. Before she could do that though, she could here Present Mic's voice all the way from where she was, saying how it was almost time for the last round. Kaida sighed once again, quickly finding her way back to the stadium. Only to be met with an astonishing sight that made her cover the giggles erupting from her.

"Wh-what are you guys wearing?" The girls from 1-A turned and looked at her, completely embarrassed. Yaoyorozu whined, covering her face.

"It was the stupid pervert's little scheme.. we all fell for it.." Kaida gently patted the taller girl's shoulder, walking with them over to the tournament board to determine who they'd be fighting.

"Don't worry Momo, we'll get him back. I promise." That seemed to reassure the team of girls, most of them glaring at the little grape boy and his electric side kick. All of the first year students gathered in front of the platform where Midnight stood, watching as she picked up a box and walked to the front. Standing beside Momo and Mina, she heard some of her and Sero's conversation about the finals but mostly ignored everyone.

"Come closer and draw lots to see who you're up against. Then enjoy the pleasure of the recreational games before we start. The sixteen finalists have the option of participating in those activities or sitting out to prepare for battle. I'm sure you all want to conserve your stamina. I'll start with the first place team." She started to walk before Ojiro put his hand up and caught everyone's attention.

"Um. Excuse me. Sorry. But I'm withdrawing." Kaida gasped and she moved around everyone to rest her hand on his arm.

"Mashi.. What are you doing?"

"Ojiro, no way!"

"But this is a rare chance for you to get scouted." Midoriya and Iida chimed in, turning around to face the boy.

"It just wouldn't be right. I barely remember anything from the cavalry battle until the very end of it. I... think it was that guy's Quirk." The maroonette frowned, turning her eyes just a little to the left of them. Shinso. He just turned away. "I know this is a great opportunity. I wish I could take advantage of it, but my conscience won't let me." Midoriya told him to think about, making the tail boy a little defensive, Kaida dropping her hand from his arm. "Everyone gave their all in round two, but I was just someone's puppet. No way. I don't wanna advance if I don't even know how I got here. It wouldn't be fair."

"You're making way too much of this! Just kill it in the finals and prove you should be here." Hagakure's pom poms fluttered about as she waved her arms, Mina joining in to comfort him, but it was all in vain.

"That's not it. I'm talking about my pride here. I refuse to give that up. Also, why are all the girls, except Hiyama, dressed like cheerleaders?" The girls all groaned, asking themselves why he had to throw that in. Kaida looked up in time to see the other boy, that was on the team with her, withdrawing as well.

"This sort of talk is incredibly naive, my boys. That turns me on!" Hiyama shuddered a little. She got that Midnight was an R-rated hero.. but this was a high school game.. "Shoda! Ojiro! You're withdrawn!" Taking a deep breath, she smiled at Mashirao, nodding.

"I'm sorry it came to this. I'll fight for you then. You deserve some wins." He looked down at her, a thankful smile taking over his features as he nodded back.

"Thanks, Hiyama. It means a lot."

"Now, let's see... We'll have to move up two students from the fifth-place cavalry team so we have enough contestants." The 1-B team of girls decided against filling in, since they were frozen the entire time, rather giving the spots over to another team. "And so, Tetsutetsu and Shiozaki have advanced to the finals! Take a look at the bracket, my dears. These are your opponents!" Kaida gasped and looked over to the pinkette who was grinning away at her.

"I can't wait to melt your butt!" She yelled at the maroonette, making her laugh as she cracked her knuckles with a smirk. Her eyes changed, signaling her Quirk activating which made Bakugo snort.

"If you can even touch me, I'll throw you out of bounds without a problem."

"Look, the battle of the Raccoons." The girls growled and turned to the ash blond.

"What did you say, Sparky?!"

"Don't fucking call me that!"

"Okay! Let's press pause for a momentary interlude! Before the battles begin, it's time for some pulse-pounding side games!" Mic quickly interjected, getting everyone excited. Kaida looked at the girls before sighing, catching their attention.

"Hey Momo?.. Wanna.. Wanna make me one of those uniforms?" The group gasped, Jirou shaking her head quickly while Mina and Hagakure grabbed her hands.

"You would really do that?!"

"Well, it's not fair that all of the girls got humiliated but me. So, let me join in in this madness." Her face was already turning red but she just waved it off. It wasn't fair that they all had to deal with this dumb prank. Momo was quick to make the uniform, quickly handing it over while the girls shoved her to the changing rooms. Oh, she was going to regret this. They called out the first game, Scavenger Hunt, her shaking her head as she changed while catching a glimpse of the scar she had gained from the USJ attack. Normally, her wounds would've healed without one but they were usually just paper cuts and the such.

Kaida took a moment to actually take the look in, twirling a little. She couldn't help but feel... giddy, being able to do something almost considered fun. She left the changing room, after folding her clothes neatly, putting them to the side, and walked out to the girls. Mina turned and jumped happily as she saw the girl. "Oh my god, Kai, you look so pretty!"

That exclamation caught everyone else's attention and she could see some students of the other classes, and even her own class, falter and trip up some. It made her giggle while Hagakure handing over an extra pair of pom poms to her. Ochaco, Mina, Kaida, Hagakure, and Tsu started to cheer their class on. She could see the looks on the students faces, Mina pointing it out and convincing Kaida to do something with her and Hagakure.

"Uh.. are you sure this will encourage them..?" The maroonette's face was turning red from the suggestion, Jirou hearing what they were planning and pulling Kaida aside.

"Don't fall for it, it's super embarrassing!"

"But.. it'll help our classmates keep going, right?" The girl sighed, covering her face.

"You're too nice, Kaida.."

"Kai-Kai! Come on! They're coming this way, let's cheer them on!"

"Ah, okay!" She joined the two girls, pulling the poms in front of her chest and looked at the girls to follow their lead. With a big smile, she danced along with the girls, moving her hips the way Mina taught her as they spun around, kicking up and cheering for 1-A. She could see Uraraka hesitantly join the girls, only because she wanted to help cheer, and Tsu was soon behind. It was a little embarrassing but she saw the looks on Denki and Eijiro's faces. It looked like the encouraging was working! When their little dance came to an end, she looked towards one of the entrances, seeing a certain purple haired boy watching. Making eye contact, she grinned wide and waved. She could see a small smirk come to his face as he turned away. That was a good sign! Maybe they'd be friends yet.

* "We didn't even have to convince Hiyama to wear the uniform, she did it all by herself!" Mineta whispered over to Kaminari, a few of the other males joining in with the staring.

"Yeah, but she knows it was your idea. You're gonna die, dude." Sero interjected. The little boy was nearly crying out of happiness.

"This was so worth it!"

* "What the fuck are you wearing, Red?" The girl in question turned to face the blond coming towards her, his natural scowl on his face. A big smile came to her face.

"Oh, Katsu! Hah, well.. Mineta pranked the other girls, and I felt bad that I was the only one that didn't have to deal with it. So, I thought i would join in." He rolled his eyes and threw something towards her, her quickly catching it and looking at the fabric I her hands. Her gym jacket? "Kat-"

"Just put it on." He said, starting to walk away before stopping. "The pervert and a few others are drooling over you, cover yourself up."

"Are you jealous?" She couldn't stop the words coming out of her mouth, but his reaction made her laugh, his cheeks tinted pink.

"I'm not! Fuckin-! Whatever!" He quickly walked off to the waiting rooms, head down as he grumbled to himself. She watched him leave before her eyes traveled to the jacket in her hands, slipping it on and burying her face in her hands. That was.. oddly sweet of him.

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[nxctiphany]

@anon How does one woo them (All of them advice for the shameless please).

                                          ★ ☆ ✮ ✯ ―☽ ―★ ☆ ✮ ✯

I’m going to try to keep this pretty brief for each of them so it doesn’t end up 800 miles long so if there’s someone you want more info on in regards to this, feel free to ask! In alphabetical order for your convenience:

 Adrasteia: So, she tends to favor people with strong personalities. This doesn’t mean someone has to be a fighter, but she prefers people who have a strong sense of self and have clear dreams and goals. That being said, she’s also a sucker for a girl she can fluster easily and tends to favor those who wear their hearts on their sleeves. Generally, if someone makes an effort to earn her favor, she’ll respond well - that could either be outright telling her that the other person is interested in her or them either flirting or trying to show their affection through gifts (the gift itself doesn’t actually matter, with her it’s very much the thought that counts). She appreciates people who actually try, even if they fail, even if it gets them down. She doesn’t mind having to pick someone up or defend them, so long as they’re trying. And she can’t stand people who turn their backs on someone in need. She dislikes people who tend to cower away from responsibility or actively complain about something they can do, yet don’t make any effort to change in order to fix the issue.       

Alice: Alice is complicated because he has the most involvement in all of Orpheus’s schemes and control issues on top of that, he tends to be a very fake person. It takes a lot for him to open up to others or even really bother with them. He’s by no means impossible to win over. In terms of having any shot at a healthy relationship with him, he tends to do best with those who are more sympathetic, understanding, and gentle because he’s less likely to fall into old habits with such people ad be more mindful of their well-being. Having a relationship with him, especially at the start, is always going to be a bumpy road because he’s done horrible things and a part of him understands he’s in the wrong, but he has so much hatred in him that he doesn’t want to address the part of him that feels guilty for everything he’s done. Patience is needed to stay with and understand him. Eventually, if someone is willing to invest time with him, because quality time is his love language, he will soften up for them and give them everything he is. 

Crow: He’s one of the easier muses here to form a relationship with. He’s unlikely to pursue someone himself, which means, if someone is interested in him, it’s best for them to pursue him. His sense of self-worth is fairly low, but that’s not outright apparent with him. He does admire passionate people, but it’s not a turn off for him if someone is on the meeker side. Crow does have a strong sense of justice, but he’s always fairly forgiving. He won’t write off what someone has done and if they’re unwilling to learn from their mistakes he won’t bother with them, but if they are willing to move and try to be a better person he will support them. He would prefer someone who is honest and willing to admit their faults. He doesn’t really like gifts unless they’re handmade, so the best way to win him over is just by spending time with him or talking to him. 

Darius: He’s also not super difficult to form a relationship with, though if someone is nasty to Lorcan that’s one of the very few ways to end up on his bad side. And they have to understand that no matter how much he loves them, he will not drop his dreams or passions for them. Otherwise, he mixes well with a variety of different personality types. He can be mellow when need be and more passionate when needed. There’s no one trait that he’s attracted to, he’s fairly flexible. But he has to have a strong connection to someone to fall in love with them. He’s not the type to date around or go looking for love. He’s only romantically attracted to people he knows well and gets along with, so the easiest way would just be to let him get to know the other person and become friends with him first. 

Felicity: She’s a fairly romantic person, so she tends to fall in love and get crushes easily, especially on other women. She’s a sucker for women who openly flirt with her. She’s fairly bubbly and energetic and very much wants someone who is willing to go out with her and have fun. She dislikes people who speak poorly about others or who are quick to slam her interests. She’ll never be attracted to someone who thinks girly is an insult or thinks she’s childish for loving the things she does. She doesn’t mind being with someone who is quiet so long as they support her dreams and don’t mind if she’s over the top in everything she does, but she dislikes people who are mean for the sake of it. If someone is the type to bully a waiter or snap at a cashier, she’s one with you right then and there.  

Ingram: This is a bit complicated (but if someone is a decent person and is pursuing, I can promise you they will have a good chunk of the coven baking them and trying to help them because Jareth, Felicity, Lorcan, and Crow really just want him to fall in love and chill). There’s also a lot of uhhh crap involved (Orpheus is not a good person, and this is a reminder, and he’s a bigger issue with dating Ingram than Ingram himself is). Ingram tends not to take advances seriously, he’s also very busy - he manages and cares for the coven. That being said, Crow is more than ready to take his place if he steps down, but Ingram feels like he can’t. He worries. A lot. And he just never relaxes and takes time to himself. He needs someone who is going to make him sit down when he’s tired or tell him to take a break for once. He needs someone he can rely on, who isn’t going to let him overwork himself or put them before himself because, otherwise, he will and he’ll make himself physically ill over it. And he needs someone who isn’t like Orpheus or he’ll quickly end up falling into a caretaker role when he really needs someone who is willing to support him equally. He can work well with various types, but it’s likely someone would need to actively pursue him in order to convince him to give them a chance (but if someone comes across too hard he’ll push them away and come to dislike them so they have to find a careful balance between too much and not enough). 

Jareth: This is very specific, but Jareth is most attracted to people who are physically strong. This is largely due to the fact he’s spent his entire life protecting others and almost everything he does is for the sake of protecting others. He’s not used to having anyone he can rely on if things go wrong (this isn’t to say the rest of the coven wouldn’t protect him, they would, but it’s usually the other way around with him), so he tends to be more interested in people who are able to and willing to take the role of the protector from him. Otherwise, he won’t be able to relax in a relationship because he does have a fear of losing the people he loves, but he isn’t quick to trust or fall in love, even if he does tend to flirt when he’s working (which is, really, just him trying to get someone’s blood if I’m being honest). He will, but, again, patience is important with him. 

Lorcan: He’s not super difficult. He’s most attracted to people who are lively, energetic, and passionate. He likes people who are willing to humor him and just try different things/go various places. He never really got to live as a human so he’s doing his best to make up for it now. He’s never going to stick without someone who isn’t willing to have fun or who tends to only stick to what they know. Otherwise, he’s not very picky. He tends not to take flirting seriously, so it might take a bit to get through to him, and things do tend to go over his head so he might not realize someone is interested in him unless they outright tell him. Also, like with Darius, if you’re rude to his brother or dislike him, then he doesn’t like you either. 

Orpheus: I’m going to start this by saying: don’t. Almost any relationship that can come from Orpheus is going to be toxic. He’s also still very much in love with Ingram and has a very deep paranoia when it comes to people he actually truly loves because of everything Ingram went through as a result for having loved him. He is extremely controlling and once he has control it more or less ruins any chance someone has at being in a real relationship with him. It’s much more likely that someone will fall in love with him and he’ll use them as a result without ever feeling anything towards them. That being said, it’s not impossible for him to be in a relationship, but it’s going to be rough. First off, he cannot be in a relationship with someone he can control or has power over, which means any member of the coven and most human beings are impossible. It has to be someone who is an equal to him. And, even then, they have to realize it’s doing to be hard. Like I said, Orpheus is still in love with Ingram. He has to slowly fall out of love with him and realize that chapter of his life is over. On top of that, as mentioned, he’s paranoid. He went through so much and Ingram went through so much because of him. Any relationship with him is going to take time - there are going to be bad days, there are going to be days when he can’t take it and lashes out. Basically, anything that could actually be a real ship (where he actually cares about the other person) with him is going to take time and be a very rough slow burn.  

Uriel: I’m not sure whether or not Uriel will be single-ship at this time, so, for the sake of it: he’s also fairly difficult to ship with. But he’s naturally attracted to people who remind him of his former wife in terms of looks and personality. She was a fairly stubborn, but awkward yet brave person. Anything with him takes time. He doesn’t place much value on himself and is perfectly willing to be nothing more than a tool for Orpheus to use as he pleases so it can be difficult to break him out of that mindset. That being said, he’d much rather someone be true to themself rather than try to please him.  

[trashmagines]

You’re Awful, I Love You: Jason Todd x Female!Assassin!Reader

TrAshy Says: You guys can’t seem to get enough of Jason and neither can I tbh. Yes, this title is totally the name of a LUDO album. It’s a not a song fic but while you’re reading it might be fun to listen to Love Me Dead ;) Also, let it be known that I don’t know shit about guns, but I tried. We cool? We cool. <3

Warnings: Reader has killed people, guns, some violence, alcohol mention, one drunk dude, long as fuck (to me anyway)

You watch through the end of your scope as the Bat effortlessly takes down yet another armed thug. As far as you can tell, Gotham is one big cesspool that Batman is just trying to clean up. You’re almost, almost sad it has to be this way; that you have him as a target. Nevertheless, money talks, and you’re being paid well to do a job, not get emotional. 

Batman finishes off the last of his adversaries, his back facing you. At this point he’s practically begging you to take the shot, and you’re about to when you’re suddenly thrown to the ground face first. A swift kick to your torso knocks the wind out of you, and you feel a large weight settle on your lower back.

“Don’t struggle; I’d hate to have to mess up such a beautiful face.”

Robin. How the fuck did you forget about Robin? You feel some kind of tie enclose around your wrists while you’re mentally chastising yourself for not factoring in boy wonder, and the sensation makes you groan internally. A pair of boots enter your field of vision, and you look up to meet the eyes of the man in the Batsuit. Great. 

They haul you off to what you assume is the Batcave; Batman leading you to an interrogation room like the prisoner you currently are, and Robin dropping off your equipment before joining you both. Under the intense fluorescent lighting, they can see just how young you appear to be, a fact that seems to trouble Batman by the look in his eyes. He asks the standard questions: who are you, who hired you, and why would you do this? Your exasperated sighs and eye rolls are his only answers; like you’re really going to tell him any of that. 

Unfortunately, some state-of-the-art facial recognition technology exposes a good chunk of your history, including your name. You’re an assassin, bounty-hunter, murderer-for-hire; if it has to do with capturing, killing, and money, you’ve probably dabbled in it. Batman rapidly scans your extensive rap-sheet while Robin eyes you with the cockiest smirk you’ve ever seen on a person. God, you can’t decide if you want to kiss him or choke him out. 

“I’d like to make you a deal, Y/N.” “A deal? You’re aware that I was this close to murdering you, right?” “I know, but you didn’t.” “Yeah, your sidekick showed up.”  “You had ample opportunities before that. I’m going to go out on a limb and say you’d been watching me for some time. You most likely had plenty of openings; shots you could have taken but didn’t.” “I was waiting for the perfect moment and got interrupted.”

You’re lying. Batman knows it, Robin knows it, and you know it. Sure, you were about to shoot before Robin intervened, but Batman was right, you’d had plenty of openings beforehand and hadn’t utilized any of them. 

“From this list of confirmed kills, I can tell you usually only go after the worst of the worst. Someone most likely offered you an amount of money you couldn’t refuse, so you took this assignment. You don’t seem like a bad person, Y/N, and I think you could be a valuable asset to me.” “Are you... offering me a job?” “That’s exactly what I’m doing. In exchange for becoming one of the good guys, I won’t throw you in Arkham for trying to kill me. Do we have a deal?”  “...Deal.” 

Six months later 

“You’ve got to stop drawing your gun on me when I come into your room!” “Then stop sneaking in through the fucking window and use the door! We live in the same mansion Jason, it makes no sense!” 

You lowered your shotgun and glared at the messy haired boy standing in front of you. You were getting ready for bed when he oh so graciously decided to drop in unannounced again, prompting you to grab your emergency weapon. He didn’t notice the look on your face as his eyes were too busy roaming your uncovered legs. 

“Jason,” you huff, pinching the bridge of your nose. “What do you want?” “Oh, Bruce wants us to do some undercover work together.” 

It was then you noticed the manila folder he was holding. You took it from him and rapidly scanned through the information. Apparently the police department was holding an appreciation dinner, because that’s really what Gotham city needs right now, and you and Jason were to go and pose as a couple for extra protection. 

“What dipshit decided having a bunch of cops in the same place was a good idea?” “Don’t know. But it’s tomorrow night so I’ll pick you up at six.”

That stupid smirk you’d grown fond of was plastered on Jason’s face and you shoved him towards your door with a loud proclamation of ‘Good night, Jason.’ He took the hint and left, shutting you door softly behind him. It had been a little over six months since you’d tried to fulfill the hit on Bruce, and though you could say your life was better, adapting to the high standards Bruce had was difficult. Even though beating and occasionally maiming was okay, he had a strict no killing policy that you constantly struggled with. Still your combat skills, which were already well developed when you’d first met, were steadily increasing and you were quite handy when it came to finding intelligence on the latest criminal schemes. You couldn’t exactly say you were “one of the good guys”, but having a consistent place to lay your head and stable income were two major pluses of your new life.

The following day, Jason was at your door at six sharp, dressed in what he liked to call a monkey suit. You did one last mirror check before opening your door, Jason’s mouth involuntarily falling open as you did. You were wearing in a knee length black dress that had a deep V neckline and lace cap sleeves. Your black suede pumps clacked against the floor as you walked past him, simply wanting to get this protection detail over with. 

The ride to the banquet hall was quiet; your eyes scanning the city outside of the window and Jason’s eyes scanning you. When you reached your destination, you both went over your cover story before exiting the car. Bruce had eyes on the situation through cameras that had been stealthily placed in advance. Jason took your hand and led you into the building, already not liking the way all eyes fell on you as you entered. He led you to the bar so that you both could pretend to talk and determine if there were any threats present. 

You had been at the bar for about an hour and a half, Jason leaving your side about thirty minutes in to mingle and blend with the crowd as best he could. There had been no suspicious activity during that time and you almost wished something would happen so you wouldn’t have to hear anymore ‘pat-me-on-the-back-I’m-so-great’ speeches. 

“Hey, beautiful.”

Be careful what you wish for. 

You turn to look at the man that has just taken the seat on your left. You recognize him as one of the pricks that droned about how much he was helping make the city a better place despite never having actually done anything. He smells like he just took a bath in Budlight and you have to stop yourself from recoiling.

“What’s a pretty girl like you doing sitting here all alone?”

Oh. He’s bold. 

“I’m not alone, I’m with my boyfriend.” 

Right on cue, Jason slides an arm around your waist and lightly kisses your cheek. You know you’re supposed to be pretending, but you can’t deny that you’re enjoying the faux affection. 

“Everything okay, babe?”  “Mhm. Just making light conversation.” 

Budlight man looks like he’s trying to set Jason ablaze with his stare, but then he turns back to you, his hand itching closer to the one you have resting on the bar. 

“Wouldn’t you rather be with a man than with a boy?”

Oh. He’s BOLD bold. 

The arm that’s around your waist tightens reflexively, and when you face Jason you see a glint in his eye. He wants to break this guy’s neck almost as much as you want to, but you have a much better idea in mind.

You turn the bar stool so that your whole body is facing Jason, uncross your legs, and pull him to you so that you can kiss him hard. He responds immediately, hands coasting down your sides before gripping your hips and pushing your bodies closer together. He kisses you breathless, his tongue exploring your mouth and battling yours for dominance. He knows that you’re letting him kiss you like this, and that shift of power makes him groan against your lips. You pull away smiling and then return your attention to the man that had been hitting on you. He looks beyond pissed and a tad embarrassed and you revel in it.

“Does that answer your question?” 

Budlight man stalks away, probably mumbling some derogatory comment about you since he couldn’t have what he wanted. You look back at Jason and when your eyes meet, you notice that his pupils are blown wide. 

“You know that was purely for the sake of our cover, right?” “Mhm.” “Good.” 

You adjust your dress since Jason’s grabby hands had caused it to wrinkle, before turning your attention to all the inebriated cops you’re now basically babysitting. Jason’s standing on your right side, a hand comfortably resting just above your left hip. He leans in close to you, close enough for you to feel his warm breath hitting your neck. 

“You know that when we get home, I’m going to be the one that’s taking off your dress, right?”

You bite your lip at his declaration, ideas of how your night could play out already forming in your mind. 

“We’ll see.”

[duhragonball]

Dragon Ball GT Retrospective (3/7)

[Note: This was originally written on January 12, 2013.   My  leg got better, but Dragon Ball GT didn’t.]

My leg is still broken, and Dragon Ball GT still sucks. 

This time I'm covering the Baby Saga, where Baby comes to Earth and the series starts to resemble a bad parody of DBZ instead of a weak tribute to early Dragon Ball.   

Up to this point, Baby had just been the Suprise Final Boss of the Machine Mutants.   Their leader seemed to be Dr. Myuu until Baby revealed (to the audience at least) that he had been calling the shots all along.   Baby's actually a pretty good villain, but only if you ignore the fact that he spent all that time secretly running the Machine Mutants and the Luud Cult. Neither of those groups really seemed to forward his agenda, and he really only gets rolling once he's rid of them.   So I don't know why he started those organizations in the first place.  He said that he created Dr. Myuu to serve as a caretaker as he matured to full power, and Lord Luud was designed to feed his victims' energy to Baby, but they both sucked at those things, so I don't know.   Initially, Baby seemed obsessed with the GT crew--Goku, Trunks, and Pan.  At first, this might have seemed like a simple quest to avenge his overthrow on M2.   Alternately, it could be nothing personal at all, since Baby can inhabit and control living beings, and Goku or Trunks would make a stronger host.  But after their fight at the Space Hospital, the GT gang loses Baby in the planet's population, and they move on, never seeing him again while they wrap up their hunt for the Black Star Dragon Balls.  This concerns Goku, since he was sure Baby would come after them again sooner or later.   Instead, Baby infests a space tourist and makes his way to Earth.  There, he seeks out the Saiyans living on the planet, hoping to possess one of them now that he's matured.   See, at the Space Hospital, Baby managed to infest Trunks' body, but Trunks went Super Saiyan and this drove him out again.   Baby wanted the power, but he was physically too weak to control it, so he had to bide his time and feed off other hosts until he could make his next move.  It's never really clear how Baby "feeds", exactly.  You don't see him eat people, or drain them or anything like that.  He just says that he feeds off unlucky beings.   I don't think he does it while he inhabits their bodies, since his hosts don't weaken while he's there, nor do they keel over dead when he leaves.  Really, there's a lot of unanswered questions when it comes to Baby.   Physically, he behaves like the T-1000 robot, shifting from liquid metal to his solid form depending on the situation.   He has to enter a host body by seeping into an open wound, but he never tries going in the mouth or nose or anything like that.  I guess he needs life energy from organic beings, but you'd think such an advanced machine would be able to plug himself into the electrical grid in a pinch.  For whatever reason, his head is shaped like a Smurf hat.   A major plot hole is that Baby somehow determined that Saiyans live on Earth, but he has no idea where they live or who they are.   He finds Goten, Goku's son, seemingly at random.   This is accomplished by possessing several different human thugs and causing trouble until Mr. Satan and Goten happen to come along.   Goten is eager to fight Baby to impress his girlfriend, but once he goes Super Saiyan, Baby liquifies and enters a cut on his arm.   That's another odd quirk about Baby.  He seems to prefer to enter his host when they're at maximum strength.   Now controlling Goten's body, Baby pretends that Goten simply destroyed him in the battle, then heads to Capsule Corporation, based on Goten's memories of where the other Saiyans live.  Baby's goal is to possess the strongest Saiyan, Vegeta, but he runs into Goten's brother Gohan first, who quickly recognizes that Goten is being controlled by a malevolent intelligence.  Baby quickly switches over to possessing Gohan's body, since Gohan is stronger than Goten, and then Piccolo shows up.  Gohan takes out Piccolo with an energy blast, seemingly finishing him off.  With that settled, Baby Gohan locates Vegeta and attacks him.   Goten shows up soon after, and it turns out that he's still under Baby's control, even though he's inside Gohan's body now.  The brothers taunt Vegeta until he powers up to his maximum, and then Baby makes the jump to his body, which he inhabits for the rest of the storyline.   The whole Vegeta/Gohan/Goten sequence is vintage GT Logic, since none of the battles make sense.  When Gohan and Goten fight, Goten uses his Super Saiyan form, while Gohan defends in his base form.  When Gohan and Goten fight Vegeta, it's Goten's turn to stick to base form while the other two use Super Saiyan.  Gohan and Vegeta can both use Super Saiyan 2, but their short haircuts make it difficult to tell which form they're in at any given time.  The bigger sticking point for fans is that Gohan uses any Super Saiyan form at all, since he had a power-up near the end of Dragon Ball Z, which enabled him to reach his ultimate strength without transforming at all.  It's not clear whether Gohan could transform after that experience, or whether or not it would even do him any good.  The point is that this "Ultimate" Gohan (so-called for the sake of clarity) was strong enough to fight Majin Buu on his own, where Vegeta could barely last two minutes as a Super Saiyan 2.    GT seems to be implicating that the "Ultimate" power-up was temporary, and after it wore off, Gohan went back to using his Super Saiyan transforms and taking a back seat to Vegeta.   I don't really have a problem with that in itself, but it's irritating that the script never explains any of that.  Instead it's just "Vegeta's stronger than Gohan now, whatever."   In any case, the bigger annoyance is that these three characters all use Super Saiyan to enhance their strength, and yet they stupidly switch back and forth like it doesn't matter.   It's kind of important, if only for the sake of internal logic.   If a base Saiyan can fight a Super Saiyan for even a few minutes without getting annihilated, then what's the point of transforming at all?   On another note, it's really stupid watching Baby Gohan and Baby Goten fight Vegeta because they all look exactly alike now.   They're all wearing street clothes and they all have the exact same haircut and they're all sneering because Vegeta's a jerk and Gohan and Goten are evil.  There was a reason everyone on DBZ wore different color pajamas and had goofy-looking hairstyles.   It was so you could tell them apart.   For some reason the only major characters who got to keep their original hair were Goku and Trunks, which is fine except they didn't need help standing out.   Goku's the only one who gets to keep his martial arts uniform, and Trunks has purple hair.   They could both get flat-tops and we'd still be able to recognize them.   Anyway, as Baby confronts Vegeta, we finally learn his convoluted origin.   This all goes back to the Tuffle race, a retcon established as part of Saiyan history on Dragon Ball Z.   The Tuffles lived on the Planet Plant, and they were an advanced race that looked more or less human.   Depending on which version you hear, they either co-inhabited the planet with the Saiyans all along, or the Saiyans invaded Plant.   Either way, there was a Saiyan/Tuffle War, and it ended with the Saiyans kicking the Tuffles' asses and wiping them out.   The Saiyans' ruler, King Vegeta, named the planet after himself, and the newly christened Planet Vegeta served as the Saiyan homeworld until Frieza blew it up  a generation later.   The Tuffles really aren't that interesting, but they keep getting brought back as villains who want revenge on the Saiyans even though the Saiyans are virtually extinct too.  This gag was first used in the 1993 home video title "The Plan to Eradicate the Saiyans."  That story was about a Tuffle refugee named Dr. Raichi who attacked the Earth's Saiyan survivors using a killer robot, poison gas, and ghosts.  It didn't work.   Dragon Ball GT revives this idea with Baby, who was a similar revenge scheme engineered by the Tuffle's last king.   As the Saiyans completed their genocide of the Tuffles, the Tuffle king combined his DNA with a genetic experiment of some sort, and then had it rocketed away from Plant to keep it safe.  It's not immediately clear what the Tuffle king was hoping to accomplish with this, but the end result is that Baby considers himself to be a Tuffle, even though he's a freaky-deaky machine parasite inhabiting Vegeta's body.  It is pretty sweet revenge, since King Vegeta's son has to linger on as a host to a Tuffle bioweapon.   Where things get a little weird is that Baby is determined to spread his infestation and control the entire population of Earth.   He does this by "laying eggs", like the ones he laid in Goten and Gohan to maintain his control over them after he left their bodies.  The eggs don't make a lot of sense to me.   They're not treated like Baby's offspring in any meaningful way.   It's more like a collective consciousness, since all the infected victims share Baby's goals, but they act and speak as individuals.   For instance, Krillin gets infested, and he just keeps acting like Krillin, save for his loyalty and admiration to Baby and the Tuffle cause.  So whatever hatched out of the egg inside of him doesn't seem to have any personality of its own.   By the time the GT crew return to Earth, the whole planet has been conquered, including Dende and Mr. Popo, to whom Goku hands over the Black Star Dragon Balls.  They go home, only to discover that their loved ones despise them as enemies of Baby.   Trunks is quickly added to Baby's fold, since he's had one of Baby's eggs inside him the whole time.   The only ones left to help Goku and Pan are Mr. Satan and Majin Buu.    Buu, being a genie with a similar power to change his shape, is able to spit out Baby's eggs.  As for Mr. Satan, he got Buu to absorb him, so he could hide inside of Buu's body and ride out the invasion.  We never actually see these eggs get laid.   I don't know if Baby Vegeta had to fly around and poop metal spheres into everyone, or maybe his followers did it for him, or what.   Buu takes Mr. Satan and Pan to safety, while Goku tries to fight Baby Vegeta.   He tries to use Super Saiyan 3, but his child body can't handle the strain of the transformation.   More importantly, Baby Vegeta is strong enough to withstand it, so it doesn't really matter if Goku can maintain SSJ3 or not.    Baby has Vegeta and Goku's kids give him their energy, and he transforms to become even more powerful.    He then calls upon the infested population of Earth to give him even more energy, which he uses to launch a "Revenge Death Ball" at the battered and beaten Goku.   Overkill much?  This is what sucks the most about the Baby storyline.   It takes forever to get on with the story.   Baby had Goku dead-to-rights as soon as he set foot on Earth, but instead he has to make a bunch of speeches and gather power he didn't need.  I don't mind his thoroughness, except that it takes a whole two episodes to get this fight over with.   With Goku removed from the equation, Baby uses the Black Star Dragon Balls to wish the Tuffle homeworld back into existence.   It's not clear if Baby understands that using the Black Star balls will destroy the Earth, but he plans to relocate everyone to the other planet, so I guess he doesn't care.  On the other hand, he stupidly wished for Planet Tuffle (aka Planet Plant aka Planet Vegeta) to be put in orbit right next to the Earth.   So you'd think that when Earth explodes, Planet Tuffle would be imperiled.  Also, relocating everyone would take a while, and it's not clear if Baby considered the logistics before making his wish.   While all of this is going on, Goku is stuck in another dimension, because the Supreme Kai tried to teleport him to safety during Baby's final attack, but he screwed it up and lost him.   This is mostly an excuse to waste two more episodes on pointless crap.   Baby continues his big migration plan, Pan's upset that her Grandpa is dead, Goku farts around in a limbo realm that looks like a game board.  The whole deal with GT is that it's not based on any original comics like the other Dragon Ball series, so this time they didn't have to include side-stories and filler while they waited for the comic to catch up.   And yet they kept writing dumb crap like this anyway.  Goku finally manages to escape to the Supreme Kai planet, where the Elder Kai convinces him to train for the final conflict with Baby.   This is the big setup to Goku's ultimate transformation: Super Saiyan 4.   The "training" is in fact just a bizarre treatment to regenerate Goku's tail.  In the early episodes of Dragon Ball, Goku's tail was his biggest weakness and his ace-in-the-hole.   If you grabbed him by the tail and squeezed it, he'd clench up and become as weak as a kitten.   On the other hand, if he happened to see a full moon, the light would trigger a transformation into a giant ferocious ape, called an "oozaru".  This was a tragic power because Goku never knew about it.   Once, he killed his own grandfather as the oozaru, and on two other occasions he turned on his own friends in his mindless rampage.   Each time, he would change back with no memory of what he had done.  The only way to stop the oozaru was to cut off his tail or somehow remove or obscure the moonlight that caused the transformation.  Goku's tail would always grow back, but eventually Kami managed to remove it permanently.   Other Saiyan characters would lose their tails as well, although it was never explained how they were kept from growing back.  From a plot standpoint, the simple fact was that the Saiyan characters became powerful enough that the oozaru transformation was obsolete.  Turning into a Super Saiyan was a better power-up anyway.     With Super Saiyan 4, GT was introducing the idea that a Super Saiyan with a tail could become the strongest Saiyan of all.  The recipe was to turn into an oozaru, then go Super Saiyan (becoming a "Golden Oozaru").   As long as the Saiyan is able to retain his conscious mind while in ape-form, he can then transform again and become a Super Saiyan 4.   Somehow, the Elder Kai managed to figure all of this out, even though he seemed to have never heard of Saiyans when he was first introduced.   Maybe he did some research between DBZ and DBGT, but it's odd that he worked out this whole plan, while the Supreme Kai and the Saiyans themselves never even contemplated it.  Anyway, step one was regrowing the tail, so the Elder Kai had Goku turn a giant coffee grinder.   I have no idea how this was supposed to work, but it's the Elder Kai's gimmick to use mundane chores to accomplish great results.   Goku gets frustrated with the slow pace, and so the Elder Kai switches to a different method: Tugging on Goku's ass with a pair of pliers.   This is probably the stupidest thing ever done on the show, because it looks like they're just yanking a furry turd out.  I wonder how many Japanese kids saw this show and tried to pull on their cats' tails to make them longer.   Oh well.   For some reason, the Elder Kai never explains to Goku why his tail will improve the situation, or what he needs to do to power up.   Instead he just stupidly sends Goku to fight Baby again, and Goku naively powers up to Super Saiyan 3 and gets his ass kicked just like the last time he tried it.  Fortunately, he looks up and sees the Earth in the skies of Planet Tuffle, and the Earthlight triggers his Golden Oozaru transformation.   Of course, if Baby had just snapped his neck or they fought on the other side of the planet, then this whole plan would have been a bust.   As it is, Goku still nearly screws things up because he still can't control himself in Giant Ape form. Pan manages to fix that by showing Goku a photo of the whole gang at the beach, and that helps him remember who he is.   Immediately, Goku shrinks to the size of an adult human, only he's still covered with ape fur, but red and black instead of brown or Super Saiyan yellow.   Curiously, Goku's pants grow back, even though his clothes ripped to shreds when he aped out, and even though they were kid-sized in any event.  Doesn't matter, he just shrinks back to adult size and suddenly he's wearing pants and boots whether it makes sense or not.   His shirt doesn't come back, though.   The most annoying thing about Super Saiyan 4 was how long they spent dragging it out.   Somewhere around Episode 28 they changed the opening and closing credits of the show to include images of Goku and Baby in their new forms, even though they weren't ready to fight until Episode 35.  In the meantime, all the audience wants to see is Goku's new power, but the show keeps jerking us around.   It's basically marking time because everyone understood that Baby wouldn't be defeated by anything less than a Super Saiyan 4, so everything that isn't Baby vs. SSJ4 Goku is a wasted effort.  Uub shows up to challenge Baby and gets his ass kicked.   Majin Buu merges with Uub to ramp up his powers, but it still doesn't help.   Goku farts around as a SSJ3 and a Golden Ape, but all that does is give Baby the bright idea to become a Golden Ape himself.   So finally Goku fights Baby on equal footing, and it begins to feel like we're getting back to the Dragon Ball Z formula.  Bulma--still under Baby's control--designs a "Blutz Wave Amplifier", which enables Vegeta's body to transform into a Golden Ape despite his lack of a tail.   This allows Baby to match Goku's power, although Baby never becomes a Super Saiyan 4 himself.   It doesn't really matter, because the Golden Ape Baby Vegeta is tough enough to make things even.  Goku gets worn out from the fighting, but Baby can recharge using the Blutz Wave Amplifier, so now Goku's back on the defensive.   Meanwhile, the Kais start liberating Goku's allies by stealing Sacred Water from Kami's Lookout.   Sacred Water was introduced during the Garlic, Jr. story arc of DBZ.  Then, it was a cure for the Black Water Mist, a demonic substance that corrupted anyone who inhaled it.   Even though the Supreme Kai is much stronger than Dende and Mr. Popo, he still runs away like a pussy when they try to stop him from using it.  Still, he manages to free Dende and Popo, along with Trunks, Gohan, and Goten, who go to help Goku in his hour of need.   What follows is a pretty stupid mid-battle conference.   Goten and Trunks suggest using the Fusion technique against Baby, which would have been really awesome because it would mean we'd get to see Super Saiyan 3 Gotenks as an adult.   Hell, a fused SSJ3 would probably knock Baby on his ass, even if Gotenks could only hold the form for a few minutes.   But instead, Goku warns them that they wouldn't be able to win that way, and their only chance is to donate their power to himself, recharging him so he can keep fighting Baby solo.  Toei kept using this gag in a lot of the DBZ movies, where the bad guy beats everyone and Goku has to draw power from his weakened allies to save the day.  It never makes much sense, because the good guys working together while they're fresh doesn't work, so why would pooling the last dregs of their power into one guy do the job?   Somehow, Goten, Trunks, and Gohan are too weak to fight alongside Goku, but they're exactly strong enough to recharge him?   I don't get it.  I mean, it's fine from a storytelling standpoint because it's Goku's show, but it sucks ass because everyone wanted to see adult Gotenks do cool shit, and Toei basically said "no".   Once rejuvenated, Goku puts Baby down as he promised, and he fires an energy blast to cut off Vegeta's tail.     Yeah, I know I said Vegeta didn't have a tail, but somehow his body grew one while turning into a Great Ape.  If Bulma's machine could transform Vegeta even though he lacked a tail, then why would cutting it off have any effect whatsoever?   As long as he's getting those amplified Blutz waves, he's fine, right?   The answer, of course, is GT Logic.   As Vegeta shrinks back to his base form (His clothes grow back, too.  Even his shirt!), Baby abandons ship.   I think the reason for this is that Baby has gotten too powerful from being in a Golden Ape to be contained any longer in Vegeta's humanoid form, but they don't bother explaining that in the English dub.   I'd sooner believe that Baby is just hoping he can use Vegeta's body as a diversion to cover his escape.  Anyway, it doesn't work, and Goku kills him by firing a Kamehameha at his ship, forcing it into the sun, which is probably the most decisive way to kill anybody in the Dragon Ball universe.   With Baby dead, the good guys distribute the Sacred Water to purge the Earth's population of Tuffle parasites, and the only nagging detail left is Baby's wish on the Black Star Dragon Balls.   Somehow an entire fifty weeks have passed between Episodes 30 and 40.   Most of those episodes merely depicted Baby fighting Goku and Uub in a single day.  I guess you could argue that Baby's relocation program took a lot longer than it appeared, and Mr. Satan and Pan spent months in hiding, but the script itself never really reflects that.  A more sensible explanation is that it wasn't enough to just return the Black Star balls to Earth; some sort of ritual was required to stop the Earth from exploding, and Baby using the Balls again prevented this from taking place.   Fortunately, there's a whole other planet ready for use as a refuge.   Vegeta proposes relocating the Earth's population to Planet Tuffle, even though you'd think he'd insist on calling it "Planet Vegeta", but whatever.   Actually, Goku's the one who reconquered it, so they should name it after him.   They spend the remaining two weeks evacuating the Earth using spaceships and teleportation, and they just barely pull it off.   Goku has teleportation powers, but they quit working right when he was turned into a child.   I don't see why, since it doesn't require a lot of strength or stamina to do, and if anything shunting his smaller body around ought to be even easier.  Fortunately, he can still use Instant Transmission as a Super Saiyan 4, but he runs out of juice on the last trip.   Luckily, Piccolo shows up and lends him a little more power to help him save the final stragglers.   I have no idea what Piccolo had been doing since he went MIA in Episode 26, but now that he's back, he's decided to stay on Earth and die as it explodes.   Piccolo's decision makes some sense, just not enough.   See, it was an earlier incarnation of Piccolo who created the Black Star Dragon Balls.  When the creator of a set of Dragon Balls dies, the Balls become inert, turning into useless stones.  Given the problems the Black Star Balls have caused, Piccolo figures the best thing to do is to let himself die to ensure they can never be used again.  Great, except Piccolo could have killed himself two years ago and saved everyone a lot of trouble.   Alternately, he could have just destroyed the dragon, since that's a proven method for bricking a set of Dragon Balls.   I suspect the truth of the matter is that Toei really didn't know what to do with Piccolo anymore, and they decided killing him off would be more interesting.   Fair enough, except his death seems like a total waste as it’s depicted.   Miraculously, Earth explodes without damaging the Planet Tuffle.   The good guys borrow the Namekian Dragon Balls and use them to wish back Earth, and I suppose they spent another two weeks relocating everyone back.   They never bother to explain what happened to Planet Tuffle.   The planet itself doesn't matter much anymore, but you'd think it'd raise some interesting questions now that everyone on Earth has been there at least once.   Much of the mythology of Dragon Ball is an open secret.  The general public has no idea about aliens, energy blasts, or Saiyans, and the Dragon Balls are little more than an obscure legend.   Baby's victims retained little memory of their infestation, so even that could have been plausibly covered up, but now that the entire Earth has been destroyed and rebuilt, and its people relocated to and from an alien world by a Super Saiyan 4, there's bound to be some consequences. Shouldn't Goku be a huge celebrity?   Wouldn't the public want to know more about this new planet?   Wouldn't businesses want to exploit an empty world for its natural resources?   Who owns Planet Tuffle anyway? Vegeta, since he's the heir of its last ruler?   King Furry, since it's orbiting the Earth?   Oh well. NEXT: Blackest Night, only dumber

[breeeliss]

*bursts into your inbox* WEDDING!!! We could all use a nice allurance wedding snippet 💖💙

//allurance

“lance what are human weddings like?” 

he was just on the edge of sleep when allura asked, the hand stroking his hair having stopped a while ago when his breathing deepened. but her whispered question pulled him awake as he tightened the arm around her waist. “mmwha was tha’?” 

“weddings,” allura giggled. “tell me about weddings.” 

lance craned his neck to stare at the clock on his bedside table. “now? naked in bed at two in the morning?” 

allura walked her fingers across his pectorals. “i can’t sleep. i’m still trembling from earlier.” 

“really? that good, huh?” 

she gently smacked his shoulder as his whole body shook with laughter. “oh shut up. i’m not the one who fell asleep right afterwards. tired you out, did i?” 

“never. i’ll always have enough energy for you. and i did not fall asleep, i was just catching my breath. i’m a healthy virile young man, thank you very much.” 

allura snorted. “you’re a pussycat, lance. scratch behind your ears just the right way and you’ll melt. you’re very easy to please.” 

“how dare. so rude.” 

she kissed him on the tip of his nose before settling in between his legs and resting her chin on his chest. “you’re avoiding my question.” 

“i mean there are a lot of different types of human weddings. culturally different, you know? you have to be more specific.” 

“alright, cuban weddings then.” 

“are you doing research for anything i should know about?” 

allura nibbled on her lip. “nothing specific, i just…well i don’t know. i just got to thinking that when we got married – ”

“when?” lance grinned. “not ‘if’?” 

she averted her gaze, but not before he pressed two quick kisses to her embarrassed smile. “you know what i mean! stop teasing.” 

“i’m not teasing. it just makes me happy hearing you talk about our wedding as a thing that’ll definitely happen as opposed to something that might happen.” 

“well of course. obviously not now, but i like the thought of us eventually doing it. it feels like such a natural next breath for the two of us. but we’re talking a multispecies wedding, so some thought should be put into it. it’s never too early for that.” 

lance smiled. “well i’ve been thinking about our wedding since the day you agreed to go out with me.” 

allura winked. “of course you have. now come on! weddings!” 

“be more specific! what do you want to know?” 

“how do engagements work? do you exchange tokens?” 

lance nodded and ran finger down her left ring finger. “we do rings. so during a proposal you would kneel in front of the person you’re proposing to, present them the ring, and hope they say yes. it’s supposed to be a really spontaneous thing. the point is to surprise the person you’re proposing to. but that’s just the engagement ring. during a wedding ceremony, you both exchange weddings bands on top of that.” 

allura held her left hand out in front of her. “we don’t exchange anything physical. we do tattoos.” 

“like permanent ones?” 

“yes. so you have to actually plan a proposal and tell the person in advance. it definitely isn’t spontaneous. you have to agree on a mark that you feel represents your relationship. some people choose old altean symbols, some people do pictures, some do sayings or words, it all depends. each of you tattoo half that mark in the inside of your right wrists to complete the engagement ceremony. then during the wedding ceremony, you complete each other’s marks in front of witnesses.” 

lance’s brows went up. “that’s intense. what happens if you separate?” 

“we’re encouraged to marry for life, but if a separation happens you just get the marks removed. it’s a bit of a laborious process though.” 

lance curled a piece of allura’s hair around his finger. “i actually like that more than the ring. it’s more personal and doesn’t involve shelling out a ridiculous amount of money. you ever put any thought into what you’d want your mark to be?” 

“not really. marriage was never on my mind until now. i’ve always thought having a picture as an engagement mark and having a quote being the finishing touch during a wedding ceremony would be nice. it’d sort of leave some anticipation leading up to the actual marriage. but who knows?”

“what are altean wedding ceremonies like?” lance asked. 

“well, both the bride and the groom wear blue to symbolize their unending loyalty to each other. they stand before a room of witnesses and a wedding officiant and recite their vows to one another. then the tattooing ceremony. after that it’s different depending on what part of altea you’re from. i’m from the south of the main continent so there we do the hourglass ceremony.” 

“and what’s that?” 

allura took lance’s hand and gently laid hers on top of his. “so we both pour different colored vials of sand into an empty hourglass and let it run all the way to the bottom. the point is that no matter how many times the sand runs out, the grains will never be separated. it’s meant to show how your love isn’t contained within the bounds of time. it’s limitless. as all love should be.” 

lance closed his fingers around her hand and pressed kisses to the knuckles. “that’s gorgeous. i don’t think we do anything nearly that intimate.” 

“are human ceremonies different?” 

lance squinted at the ceiling and started tracing shapes on her bare back. “well, brides wear white dresses and the grooms wear black tuxes. ah, that’s formal wear for men,” he explained when allura tilted her head. “you typically have a wedding party filled with friends and family that are there for you during the ceremony. the groom stands at the front with the wedding officiant and waits for the bride to enter, usually with her father, brother, or some other important male figure. then when the ceremony starts, the bride and groom recite their vows, exchange weddings rings, kiss, and then that’s it.”

“why white and black for the bride and groom?” 

“brides used to wear white to symbolize their virginity, but i think it’s just done for tradition nowadays. definitely not a requirement.” 

allura wrinkled her nose. “that’s so distasteful!” 

“i mean the reason fathers typically walk their brides down the aisle is because it’s meant to symbolize giving their daughters away. because daughters used to be the property of their fathers up until they got married and became the property of their husbands.” 

“lance that’s positively primitive and completely sexist. you do that for tradition’s sake?” 

“i mean not everyone does. my family tends to be pretty traditional about that sort of thing. but i also had a cousin who walked herself down the aisle and wore a champagne dress. you can pretty much do whatever you want for your wedding. what matters is the ceremony part. you know, the vows and stuff. your promises to each other in life and in death. everything else is just fluff.” 

“i do like that we have that in common,” she conceded. “preparing your own vows of commitment to each other.” 

“look at that, we decided on one thing,” lance laughed. “i like the idea of the tattoos and the hourglass ceremony. we should do that. that’s part of your culture and i want to celebrate that with you. i’ll probably still get you a ring though. i’ve been dreaming of buying a girl her engagement ring since i was a kid.” 

allura blushed. “i mean i wouldn’t complain about that. i also don’t mind you wearing human formal wear. but i’d love to at least wear a blue dress.” 

“of course! you in a blue wedding dress would be damn stunning.” 

allura perked up. “ooh! do you celebrate afterwards? what does that look like?” 

lance cackled. “oh god, it’s like one huge party. we’re cuban so we invite as many people as physically possible. there’s always a crap ton of cuban food and a huge wedding cake. lots of music and drinking and dancing. you always have one aunt from somewhere that starts the rueda at weddings. we also do this really fun thing where any man who gets to dance with the bride has to pin money to her dress to help with wedding expenses. oh, and they go until super late too and everyone always goes home drunk.” 

“is a rueda a kind of dance?” 

“yeah, it’s basically a form of salsa. sorry, if you’re gonna marry me, you need to learn salsa. that’s a requirement.” 

“alright, fair enough,” allura said. “but then you have to learn altean ballroom dancing.” 

“only if you teach me.” 

“oh no, i don’t know how the male parts of the dance work. you should get coran to teach you.” 

lance frowned. “what? why? if i’m teaching you salsa why does coran have to each me altean ballroom?” 

“because i don’t know how to lead and you’d have to be taught how to lead. i only know how to dance the girl parts.” 

“aw, allura! that totally sucks! you have to teach me otherwise it won’t be any fun. coran is probably gonna be so extra about it.” 

“i mean true but at least you’ll be in good hands. and i’ll be on the sidelines cheering you on and staying very far away from you both!” 

lance dig his fingers into allura’s sides and tickled her until she started laughing into the crook of his neck. “you’re the worst.” 

she kissed his neck and whispered against the shell of his ear. “you love me.” 

“so much it hurts,” he agreed. 

allura relaxed against him, staring out at the windows that they’d left open to let in the evening summer breeze. “we’re disgustingly compatible, that was far too easy. we have to argue about something. what cake flavors do you want?” 

“it’d have to be earth flavors, so whichever one you wanted.” 

“color scheme?” 

“up to you.”

“party favors for guests?” 

“you can pick.” 

allura flicked him on the nose and smiled through her complaint. “lance stop deferring to me!” 

“what?” he chuckled. “i don’t care what our wedding looks like so long as you’re the one i’m marrying. you know that.” 

allura hid behind her hair. “stop being adorable, i’m trying to plan a wedding.” 

“i’m not impeding you from doing that! i’m serious, have full reign. i’ll taste and look at every suggestion you come up with, but we can do whatever you want. start writing things down so we don’t forget and we’ll take it a step at a time.” 

“so….we’re really planning this?” 

lance shrugged with a dopey smile on his face. “i mean doesn’t hurt to be prepared, right?” 

allura matched the smile and learned in for another kiss, this one lingering and lasting long enough to warm her body all the way down to her toes. “right you are.” 

lance sighed against her lips. “i feel like i’m dreaming.” 

“hold onto that feeling while you still can. wedding planning will quickly turn into a nightmare.” 

“no, learning ballroom dancing from coran will be a nightmare.” 

“you’re doing it lance.” 

“i really think you could teach me if you just tried – ” 

“lance i’m not doing it!” 

“please?” 

“i’m telling coran you have no faith in him.” 

“feel free, i stand by my choice, i want you teaching me!” 

“i don’t know how, i’m sorry!” 

“allura, come on!” 

[the-nysh]

Who are your favourite manga/anime protagonists of all time and why?

Of…of ALL TIME!? *mind goes blank* Whew, that’s a difficult + huge pool to choose from, but ‘protagonists’ actually narrows it down, as not all my fav characters are the protags either. Usually I go for the Vegeta + Raphael archetypes instead, cause their character arcs (growth that’s often emotion-based) are more interesting/appealing to me. Protags in general are often nice and likeable by default (in the sense that if I didn’t like them, I wouldn’t force myself to continue the story where they’re the main focus), but they’re also often portrayed with average traits to make them most relatable to the target demographic. Many of them are similarly structured this way with comparable traits/behaviors, so I tend to prefer the ones who can still stand out (in their own unique way) from the rest in general. I also tend to prefer those who aren’t ‘chosen ones’ or who don’t have special hereditary gifts. Instead I prefer them being special through the merits of their own character and the choices they make. So with that criteria said, some names definitely came to mind.

Nausicaa: probably the one I most looked up to and was inspired by as a kid. She did everything I liked and thought was cool, from her free flying/piloting abilities, exploring nature on her own, running her own lab, easily befriending animals, and often finding interesting/different solutions to things that her people wouldn’t conceive of (often in a pacifist way). She could still lead and take charge & responsibility of things as a princess, but still believed in freely doing what she wants (and could still be girly about it too). However, the defining scene that most stuck with me all these years, was her reaction upon finding her father assassinated. The one where she wordlessly gaped in horror and flew into a blind rage (even Teto, her critter, sensed it and got scared), and murdered every assailant in the room with a blunt weapon. Before she picks up the nearest sword and her uncle stops her with his own body, accidentally harming him in the process, and shocking her to her senses, where she then becomes so petrified and guilty at what she’s done that she passes out. She confessed she became that afraid of herself when her emotions and anger ran out of control. And I thought, wow that’s powerful, especially unprecedented and rare for a female (mostly pacifist!) character to suddenly do as well, because that was the strength of her heart, her love for her family, that shone and drove her with the instinct to react so brutally that way. It always made me take pause and ponder, that if I witnessed anything like that happen to my own family or those I cared about, just what form would my anger manifest in response? It’s chilling and ugly to think about, because I’d never want that to happen, but I honestly don’t know if I could hold back either. So I could understand her fear. It’s quite humbling. It’s always this scene I remember and gauge in comparison to when I see other characters strongly react with that same righteous anger/instinctual drive to protect who they care about. And it’s always a fav when I see that happen.

Edward Elric: oh he’s definitely a keeper. Probably one of the most well-rounded and human I’ve seen, with the full spectrum of emotion, badass feats, and quirky + dorky character traits of his own too. A standard I feel, when it comes to well-written and memorable shonen protags. Probably one of my first legit anime crushes obsessions back in the day (even way before Brotherhood existed). I got all the merch, shirts, wall scrolls and everything (got a bunch of craft models for Nausicaa too for that matter). I remember back when my sister asked me who my fav character of the series was, and I answered him without hesitation, but she said ‘oh that’s boring’ just because he’s the protag, (://) so preferring him is apparently expected I guess, oh well. I didn’t go back on my answer then, and I don’t think I could ever go back on it now either. I still faithfully wear an old chibi keychain of him on my bag. My fav scene is probably that really touching moment when he convinced Winry not to kill with a gun, because her hands were better for healing, including how she created and continually fixes/heals his arm & leg. :’) Just ahhh, keeper. 

Guts: hoooo boy. The one and only. The most badass determinator around, continually struggling against all the absolute shit dealt to his life. Just ugh, it’s amazing he hasn’t keeled over yet, after surviving through so much literal hell. His life is just eternal suffering and tragedy, and he’s accepted going down that path. He almost submits to the despair sometimes, but he’s strong. Strong to keep going and not give in no matter how bad it gets. Because he has a mission he absolutely must see through and commit to the end. It’s both painful and awesome to watch him, and I honestly have no idea how he can win (vs Griffith) on his own eventually, but I can only hope he survives to achieve some form of happiness someday, because damn, it’s been so unfair to him. Please just give him a break. I’ll be in that long haul of a ride just to see how he’s doing.  

For more recent protags (and I wish I could choose more girls), ONE is definitely onto something though with his massively relatable yet genuinely hard-working characters, where even if they’re strong in ways, they’re also very humble, and their own merits shine through even stronger. Saitama probably fits my fav protag criteria, along with being an interesting commentary on what happens once you reach the peak of your craft. Is it really worth all the hard work and effort if there’s no one else to share it with? Most interesting food for thought. However, I’m still waiting for him to do something more…where he becomes a bit less passive (and oblivious) to things happening around him, and a bit more engaged and emotionally receptive. For example, if he’s physically invulnerable, then that leaves his mental/emotional vulnerability as a possible target. If it ever comes to that, and he can feel something that makes him react, reflect, and feel alive again, then that’ll be something worth waiting for. He’d really enter my all-time favs that way.

Another recent one who’s caught my eye is Senku (Dr. Stone). Sometimes you’d think he’d be a scheming sneaky bastard (mad scientist) but he’s actually a very standup and compassionate guy. Trustworthy, persistent, and dependable. He’s quirky, he’s unique, and he’s not your typical shonen protag. (He’s also immune to all advances; not interested in the slightest cause his priorities are much stronger.) And I like that. It’s like if Hiruma (es21) got the chance to be the protag, but more down to earth and less threatening/imposing. So far the story’s still pretty new but he’s already pretty memorable. Just gotta see now how his persistence and faith in science will change and save the post-apocalyptic world.

[depressed-sock]

Kiyo Thief part 4

Thief part 1 ; part 2 ; part 3

A Fallen Hero Fanfic

A Familiar ‘Annoying’ Face

2nd

 You're breathing heavily hands on your knees as you stand over the three thugs that were trying to rob the electronics store. They probably don’t have much on them but it’s better than no-

 “Hey!” You spin aiming a kick towards the voice’s head, only to find your leg caught in his grip and you suddenly on the floor. Rubbelguy stands above you with a smug smile, “You know you should really work on that environmental awareness.”

 ‘You should work on not getting your fucking wallet stolen asshole,’ you bite back your remark there’s no need to out yourself to him. Is this going to become an insistent irritating problem? Not being able to sense this fucker sneak up on you? Why is he even here anyway? This is clearly not a high-level heist requiring his attention.

 “Go fuck yourself,” you kick out at him but he quickly dodges backward. Your back on your feet before he can do anything else. You can’t riffle through pocket’s while the ‘hero’ is here to watch over you so you may as well leave.

 “Hey! Please wait I just-” You slam the door maybe a bit too hard into his face.

 4th

 “Hey, Rubble fucker! Catch!”

 “Will you stop calling-Offf”

  “Uhh...Whoops?”

 6th

 Alright, that’s another one down, now-

 “Come here often?” He expects the kick but not the punch that plows into his stomach.

 Shit, you didn’t mean to actually do that, “Goddamnit! Stop sneaking up on me!” This situation is so much worse than accidentally stealing his wallet. Maybe you should go back to that before he tries to throw you in jail for assault.

 He holds his stomach a bit and sends you a wink, “At least I’m not falling head over heels again.”

 You suddenly have to suppress an incredibly strong urge to hit him again. “Maybe next time you do you’ll land in hell.”

 “Ouch, Is that your way of saying you don’t like me?”

 “No,” You move closer to him grabbing his shirt, why is he wearing civs while fighting crime?, “I’ll tell you to your face if I don’t like you Rubbelguy.” You let go and turn to leave doing your best to ignore his existence.

 “Wait… does that mean you don’t like me? Or that you do- Wait! Oh, come on!”

 8th

 “Hey, kid! Good job with taking them down!”

 “Call me a kid again and I’ll shove my foot up your ass.”

 “... I’m so tempted to make that dirty.”

 “I’m going to push you down the stairs if you do.”

 11th

 How? How does he keep finding your vigilante persona? This is ridiculous and getting out of hand. You haven’t even been able to riffle through the pockets of the people you’ve knocked out because he suddenly appears out of nowhere. His entire presence letting out an air of judgment everytime you so much as look at something wrong. Or maybe that’s just your imagination, afterall you can’t actually tell what he’s thinking.

 Either way, you’re fed up, tired and hungry. You want him to go away and leave you alone. Speaking of hungry, when was the last time you ate anyway? Maybe last night? Or was it the night before? Or.. you don’t know...Fuck.

 You try to block the Empress of Flames punch, why are there so many people wanting to be rulers?,  a wave of heat bursting off of her as she grabs your arm a sadistic smile on her face. It’s so hot, everything feels so incredibly suffocating.

  Her mind is a weave of chaos that reminds you of a few others you’ve fought… It has the intense unpredictably that Lord of the Fucks had. Until you got him angry but you can’t risk getting her angry, she might roast both you and Rubbleguy alive… Is that why everything is so hot right now? Is she roasting you alive from the inside out? You can feel yourself faltering, a black film starting to form around your eyesight.

 Rubbleguy must see you struggling because he moves in, knocking her grip off you and pushing you behind him. “How you holding up Kid?” he sounds worried but you can’t bring yourself to care as the black starts to take over your vision.

 “I’m..not..a..ki-” the floor feels so much cooler than you expected.

…

 Something cool rests against your forehead, it feels so nice… wait... Empress! You jolt up your hood falling back. No no no no. Your hand reaches up and your goggles and mask are still affixed to your face. Thank fuck.

 “You should lie back down,” your head whips around. Shit too fast. Dizziness suddenly hits you and you nearly fall forward off the stone bench you were lying on, “Woa, shit,” he grabs you holding you steady.

 “What?” happened? It’s so hard to speak, your throat is so dry.

 “It seems Empress’s abilities can heat up a person's body temperature to dangerous levels,” he helps you lay back down on the cool bench, then holds a cold water bottle against your forehead, “I would have taken off your jacket but considering I saw what you did to the last guy that tore a hole in it I figured it was safer not too.” He smiles softly at you and you think it’s a nice smile, it feels genuine. “You should probably drink this,” he shakes the water bottle above your line of sight a bit and you find yourself licking your dry lips.

 You don’t want to remove your mask, what is he recognizes you? What if he hates you? But you need to. Fuck. You try to sit back up and he moves to help you but you wave him off. You pull your hood up and turn so he can’t see your face. You hold out your hand blindly and you feel the coldness of the water bottle in your grasp.

 You move the mask slightly just enough so you can drink the water freely; greedily gulping it down. It helps but your still so fucking thirsty.

 “I’ve got two more,” you feel him hold another water bottle to your shoulder, and you take it, gulping it down quickly. You sigh in relief but a nervousness suddenly crawls it’s way up your spine. You find yourself crushing the empty water bottles in your hands. Why would he do something like this? Is it some kind of trick? It doesn’t feel like it, wouldn’t he have unmasked you if that was the case?

 “Thank you,” the words are quietly whispered but you know he heard it.

 “Hey, It’s no problem ki-”

 “Sidestep,” it slips out, you’re so fucking tired of being called kid. “Just call me Sidestep... Charge,” you bite out his name painfully. Fuck maybe you’re giving him too much rope to run with. You don’t have to be able to read his mind to know that he’s grinning at you. Oh fuck, you’re going to regret this so fucking much.

 “Sidestep, huh... because you keep sidestepping my advances?” goddamnit you shouldn’t have said anything.

  “I was going to be nice and keep calling you by your actual name but I changed my mind, Rubbelguy.”  

 “Wait, shit. It was a joke.”

 “Your jokes suck,” and so does your crappy smile.

 14th

 “Hey Sidestep!”

 “No.”

  “I didn’t even-”

  “NO.”

 16th

Your body is shaking from exhaustion when you feel the presence behind you. The irritation you feel is currently unequaled, the nonstop pestering was finally breaking your nerves.  "Leave me the fuck alone!" Your hands ball into fists and you don't bother turning around to face him. You just want him to go away, to stop bothering you.  "I'm sorry?" That's not Rubbleguy… fuck. You spin around to find Sentinel hovering a few inches off the ground, his expression both unamused and confused by your reception. Fucking hell.  "Uhhh...I umm I thought you were someone else," you weakly explain. You hadn't expected any of the other Rangers to show up, you should have but Rubbleguy has ruined all your common sense. He just keeps showing up, you don't even know how he keeps finding you but every time you've turned around since meeting him he's there. Smiling at you, being a condescending asshole with his 'goodjobs'.  Does he think your inept since your fight with Empress? Or does he suspect you've been stealing off the people you've 'defeated'? He won't stop using the name you gave him either. ‘Sidestep this’ ‘Sidestep that’ his presence was all around an annoyance. Maybe he knows you're not legit and he's trying to get you to incriminate yourself with his pestering? Is he now getting the other Rangers involved with his scheme?  Sentinel lets out a loud sigh pinching the bridge of his nose, "You're the kid Ortega's obsessed with, aren't you?" Its posed as a question but you feel he's already certain of the answer. Obsessed with? Shit, that doesn't sound good. "We need to talk."  "Alright," you shrug your shoulders stuffing your hands into your pockets, motioning your head as you turn and walk down an alley. You're not talking about this here, in fact, you'd rather not talk about it at all but you don't think that's going to be an option.   He sets on the ground watching as you start to climb up the nearby buildings fire escape, "If you want to talk on the roof I can carry you."  "No thanks," you prefer being able to hold onto something that can't be shot out of the sky. "Besides I'm not going all the way up and you," you point towards him, " are staying right there." You sit on the second story escape legs dangling over the edge. Not high enough that you couldn't escape if need be but enough to have space between you and him. He could easily fly up to reach you but the illusion of having a higher ground advantage helps calm your nerves a bit.  "Are you done?" He looks completely fed up with your shenanigans already. Maybe if you annoy him enough he'll leave.  "I guess, what exactly is this about?"  "Do you want me to get Ortega to leave you alone?" Your shocked into a dumbfounded silence. You hadn't expected that, why would he care if Rubbleguy is bothering you? But he does care, you can feel it. The worried thoughts that Ortega is pushing boundaries he shouldn't be.  "I don't know," you look away, your hand nervously rubbing against your neck. He's been persistent, annoying, condescending, and an absolutely smug asshole but…  No, there should be no buts you should take Sentinels offer you should… but… you don't want to. He’s been all those things but you can’t deny the kindness he’s shown you. Even if it’s all an act… You also don’t feel as lonely as before. No, it’s more you didn’t realize how lonely you were before he started following you around.

 “If you ever want him to back off and he’s not listening, tell me and I’ll get him to stop.”

 “I can take care of myself,” you bite back. You don’t want anyone’s help.

 “I know… but Ortega can be…” He winces trying to find the right words.

 “A pest? Annoyingly persistent? A fucking idiot?” Too caring? Too kind? Too trusting? You’ve got a growing list of exactly what he is.

  Sentinel let’s out a laugh and shakes his head, “All of that and more.”

  You sigh, “Yeah but I think you saving me once is more than enough.” wait...you didn’t just…

  His eyes narrow on you and suddenly you feel him trying to go through his memories trying to place you, “Is that so?”

  Shit. Fucking shit! Backtrack! Backtrack now. Give him something else to focus on.

 “Yeah, you helped me realize I’m transgender,” NOOO, not that way. Why would you fucking tell him that! “I mean.. Not literally helped me... More figuratively?” This is not helping you! This is making it worse! SO MUCH WORSE!

   He’s staring at you shocked, shit shit shit. “How so?”

   Don’t answer that, just run. Run far away, “I read about you in the paper, That you were openly transgender. I didn’t know the word so I looked it up and suddenly so much shit made sense and I had a word to describe what I was feeling and I really shouldn’t be telling you any of this,” you’re rambling and now you're standing and you’re going to run away and go stick your head into your ratty old blanket and go scream.

  He lets out a soft laugh, staring at you like he’d just found something… you don’t know what he found, you’re not sure you want to be a found something. You jump off the fire escape, “Well if there’s nothing else I’ve got to go… faaar away,” you begin to turn but you find yourself stopping momentarily, “Please...Please don’t tell anyone.”

 “I won’t,” his eyes soften as he stares at you accompanying a small sad frown, you can feel the empathy coming off of him. He knows, he understands.

 “Thank you.” You run and you don’t look back.