#guy sounds super menacing with those suggestions too

[kneelingshadowsalome]

König saying "Can I come inside?" when you two are making out at your front door, he breaks the sloppy kiss when you start to laugh, poor man is looking both drowsy and alarmed ://

"I mean... in your apartment..." *heavy breathing*

Like everyone knows what you meant König

[goodlucktai]

So lil request if ya feel up for it :-}

★ A story about Mikey's brothers finding out about his and Woody's secret relationship(?). Like, maybe it can be that one of them are going through Mikey's phone and they see his camera roll full of photos of him and Woody !! Or like they walk in on the two cuddling asleep or something idk :-0

Do whatever U want 💖

i went with rise on this one. i missed those guys :')

read on ao3

x

Don slams into the infirmary with a shout of, “LEO! Leoleoleoleoleoleo!”

“Congratulations, my name just sounds like noise to me now,” Leo replies drolly, as if he’s not ecstatic to have company. Sure, Raph had been camped beside his bed up until like ten minutes ago, but a lot can happen in ten minutes. 

As if to prove it, Don shoves a phone into Leo’s face. “Michael—our Michael—has a boyfriend.”

Leo sits up so fast he feels it in his entire body, an ache radiating down his spine like it’s a gong that just got rung.

“You’re lying!” 

“I would never lie to you,” Donnie says, his tone a weird mix of agitated and absolutely giddy.  

Such a gossip, Leo thinks fondly. 

Don piles onto the bed, still careful of Leo’s broken bones but a far cry from the cautious, mincing way he climbs in lately for their Youtube video essay marathons or vent sessions. Leo might have to orchestrate more tantalizing secrets for his nosy twin to uncover if it stops him treating Leo like something glass that’s about to break. 

Shoulder to shoulder, Donnie holds the phone where they both can see it. Now that Leo’s looking at it properly, he clocks the glittery sticker-covered military-grade phone case and says, “Oh, no. Tello, you didn’t. Look me in the eyes and tell me you didn’t steal his phone.”

“It’s called the Freedom of Information Act.”

“That does not apply here!” Leo is torn between horror—because Mikey is objectively terrifying—and glee—because Donnie is an absolute menace and he loves to see it. 

“Agree to disagree. I could have just cloned his phone onto a new device but where’s the pizzazz? Anyway—”

He brings up Mikey’s camera roll, scrolling through dozens of post-invasion celebratory selfies and candids, past a few scattered pics of Mikey’s own cooking and digital art (and Leo makes a mental note to revisit that, because there aren’t as many of those as there ought to be) and finally making an “ah-HAH” sound under his breath, tapping on a particular picture to blow it up. 

It’s a selfie taken at arm’s length of two faces squished together to fit the frame. One face belongs to Leo’s little brother, caught mid-laugh. The other one is distinctly human, almost lost in a haphazard cloud of yellow curls and turned sideways to plant a kiss on Mikey’s spotted cheek. 

Leo finds himself smiling involuntarily. Mikey looks happy. It’s cute. 

Of course, if Mikey thinks he can have a whole-ass secret boyfriend and get away with it, he’s got another thing coming. Not when he has three older brothers and an older sister who have been waiting their entire lives for this moment. 

“This doesn’t prove they’re dating,” he points out, mostly just to play devil's advocate. “Maybe they’re super affectionate friends. The five of us do cheek- and forehead-kisses on occasion, too.”

“Mm-hmm, yes, I thought you might say that, and I am, of course, prepared to offer more evidence.” 

Donnie taps out of the photo gallery and brings up Mikey’s messaging app. He scrolls for a bit, past the sibling group chat, April, their own names, Raph, their dads—even Rupert, what the hell?—and then, right beneath Piebald and before Casey Sr., is a text thread with a contact simply, and tellingly, labeled babe💛.

On pure reflex, Leo smacks the phone out of Don’s hand before he can open the thread. 

“So what we’re not about to do is read his texts to and from his boyfriend,” he says, very deliberately, so a single world won’t be misconstrued.

“I wasn’t gonna,” Donnie mumbles, in a tone that suggests that he was, in fact, gonna. 

Leo picks up the phone and goes back to the picture. He checks the timestamp, humming thoughtfully to see that it was from a little over two months ago. They've certainly been busy since the whole Krang situation, but Mikey has always had time for the things he loves. He makes time. He’s just a kid, albeit one who had to grow up too fast, but he was born with a good sense of what’s really important.

And this guy, Leo thinks, seems like he could be important. So why is this the first they’re hearing about him?

“How exactly did you make this discovery?” Leo asks, handing the stolen phone back. 

“S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. regularly scans all of our devices for anything icky—you’re welcome—and he asked me who the blond guy was,” Donnie explains offhandedly. “He thought we had a new friend he hadn’t met. You know how he gets when he thinks we’re leaving him out of literally anything.”

“Like father, like son,” Leo says sagely.

Donnie lowers the phone and makes direct eye contact. “No.”

Leo laughs so hard he thinks he might actually be in danger of puncturing a lung with one of his broken ribs. Donnie goes back to snooping, but there’s a pleased quirk at the corner of his mouth. 

“DONALD!” a voice thunders suddenly from down the hall. “IF WHAT I THINK IS HAPPENING IS HAPPENING, IT BETTER NOT BE!”

“Eughh boy,” Leo says. 

Looking as though he just saw his life flash before his eyes, Donnie shoves the phone at him and blurts, “You take it! You’re a convalescent, he can’t kill you! It would be against the Geneva Conventions!”

“Oh, I see, you want me to use my horribly mangled body as a meat shield between you and the consequences of your own actions.” Leo holds his hands up and open to avoid having any incriminating evidence forced into them. “Also, I think you skipped like six years of Social Studies.”

The infirmary doors slam open hard enough that one of Leo’s shelves of meticulously organized medical supplies rattles ominously. Mikey looms in the threshold, silhouetted against the light from the den. It’s appropriately intimidating.

There’s a beat of silence. Then Mikey’s eyes lower to the bright yellow phone in Donnie’s hands. It’s indie-film levels of drama. Leo is eating this up. 

Donnie whispers, “Oh, Hawking, I did not think this through.”

“When you die, who gets your laptop?” Leo whispers back. 

“I knew it!” Mikey shrieks. “You think S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. can keep a secret?? S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N.?? You programmed him with all your own tells! I’m going to destroy everything you love!” 

The resulting cat-and-mouse chase around the infirmary is rowdy enough that it summons Raph, warm and fresh from the shower, dressed in his favorite huge pink hoodie. He catches Donnie on his way by and lifts him bodily out of the melee. Mikey is bloodthirsty enough that he scales Raph like a tree and their biggest brother is forced to hold Donnie out at arm’s length to keep the two of them apart.

“Woah, woah, hey—Jesus, what is happening?” Raphie says. His eyes dart to Leo, one dark and the other a pale milky pink, but it’s still the same look he’s given Leo a billion times before. The one that says loop me in. 

Leo searches under his pillow for the palm-sized knife he keeps there and focuses hard. Two little cyan portals open, maybe the size of dessert plates, one next to him and the other by Donnie, a neat little wrinkle in the dimension. He reaches through it and retrieves the phone. 

Pretending he doesn’t feel woozy after the brief use of ninpo well before he was technically allowed to use it again—because then he would have to admit that Draxum was right about something, and frankly he’d rather die—Leo waves the recovered goods at his brothers.

Mikey stops trying to kill Donnie and stares across the room with a very vulnerable, unhappy expression. Leo hates that, so he takes charge. 

“Just the Cain Instinct at work, Raphala,” Leo says, smiling. “How about you deliver Donnie to April for a lecture on respecting other people’s privacy, and I’ll talk to Mikey about the pros and cons of fratricide.”

“Pros and cons? What pros? You know what, nevermind,” Raph adds before Leo can answer, holding Donnie more comfortably in the crook of his arm as Mikey hops down from his shell. 

Donnie is dead-weight at this point, gone totally limp and accepting his fate. Since a lecture from April has a fifty-fifty chance of turning into a gossip session, Leo doesn’t feel bad for his twin at all. 

“And don’t think you're not in deep shit for that portal just now,” Raph says severely, pointing at him. “Yeah, Raph clocked that. No ninpo while you’re healing, Leon, or I’m telling pops.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Leo says dismissively.

But Raph still comes over to rub his head, and Leo still leans into him when he does, because a little part of Leo is always going to be six years old with stars in his eyes, gazing up at his biggest brother like Raph could hold the whole sun in his hands if he wanted to.

When Raph has carted Donnie away, the infirmary is much quieter. Mikey slinks over to the bed ungraciously and invites himself right up, pressing into Leo’s side and hiding his face in a yellow-striped shoulder.

Leo passes him back his phone. Mikey tucks it against his plastron and doesn’t say anything.

“So the pros of fratricide would be that your stuff would get stolen way less,” Leo begins airily. 

With a huff, Mikey nudges him. 

“He showed me a picture, but we didn’t read any texts,” Leo adds, less playful. “As far as we know, you have a really good friend we just haven’t met yet.”

“Yeah,” his little brother says quietly. He presses his face harder into Leo’s shoulder. Leo works his arm out from in between them and wraps it around Mikey’s carapace instead. 

Tracing a familiar pattern between the scutes, he says, “You know you can tell me anything, right?”

When Leo came out, a few years ago now, he was terrified. 

It was just another thing that made him difficult, that made him harder to love, that might cost him what little of his father’s good opinion he thought he had. He kept it a secret, tucked behind the armor of his plastron where no one but himself would ever see it.

But then one day, when he was fourteen, Leo found Raph in the living room, watching Youtube videos of the NYC Pride Parade with something young and hopeful on his face, only to slam the laptop shut when Splinter came in. Raph’s expression had twisted into something ashamed. Afraid. 

And Leo thought, Absolutely not.

So he came out to his family over dinner that same night. He said it like his hands weren’t sweaty and shaking beneath the table, like he hadn’t practiced the words and tone in the mirror for an hour beforehand. 

He couldn’t force himself to look at Splinter, twisting some spaghetti onto his fork and following his big announcement with something stupid, like, So I guess you could say the only straight I am’s a straight-up bitch. That way everyone would know it wasn’t serious, wasn’t a big deal, they could stop looking at him now please. 

Raph didn’t even get after Leo for saying the bitch word. He flew to his feet and rounded the table and scooped Leo up into a big bear hug. Well, Leo and Mikey, because Mikey was already attached to him at that point. Donnie said, “Gasp! This is my surprised face. Whoever could have anticipated this astonishing turn of events?” because he was an asshole. But he also reached over the table to put his garlic bread on Leo’s plate, because he was the absolute best. 

Leo’s heart didn’t stop racing for what felt like hours, even after his brothers squeezed him to death and made a bunch of noises about loving him no matter what, even after Splinter informed the table at large that his Baby Blue could start thinking about dating boys in another thirty years and not a minute sooner! 

But he did that for a reason. So his brothers had a lead to follow if they ever needed one. So they wouldn’t be scared like Leo constantly was.

And now the tension slowly leaks out of Mikey’s frame. 

“I know. I know,” he says, stronger the second time. “I guess I got all in my head about it. At first I wanted it to just be my thing, for me. I liked him but I wasn’t sure if he—you know. And then when he did, everything was perfect, and I didn’t want to mess it up.” He sits up enough that he can look at Leo, red-brown eyes earnest and wide. “Then the longer I didn’t say anything, the more impossible it felt to ever say anything. It’s not ‘cause I didn’t—”

“You don’t owe me or anybody else an explanation, Angie,” Leo says, tugging on the tails of his mask. “If you want to talk about him, I’m all-ears. If you want me to blackmail Donnie into forgetting he exists, I can do that, too. I’ve got the goods.”

Mikey smiles. It’s a relief to see. “I have no idea how you did it,” he says. “How you just told us like it was nothing. Told dad. I guess being his favorite probably helped.”

His WHAT?

Leo chokes on an incredulous laugh. He thumps his own chest, wheezing. Mikey rolls his eyes and slumps down again, gets comfy, a familiar weight under Leo’s arm. 

“Puh-lease, Lee. You two are like the same person, all the way down to the inherent self-worth issues and validation-seeking. Of course he’s going to feel complicated about loving a carbon-copy of himself when he hates himself so much.” After a moment, Mikey adds, “I think you help him feel better about who he is.”

Huh. Welp. Time to pack all of that up to think about later because otherwise Leo’s brain is going to explode.

“Nice attempt at distracting me, but I’m the master of misdirection.” Leo jostles Mikey, enough to make him whine stoooop. “If you think for one second you’re not everyone in the entire family’s favorite person, then there’s something deeply wrong with you,” he adds severely. “Junior has only been here for like five minutes and even he likes you best.”

Mikey’s grinning by the time he’s done. Leo can feel the shape of it against his arm. 

“It’s a gift,” the youngest Hamato says humbly. 

Identical chimes from the phone in Mikey’s hand and the one on the bedside table alert them to a new text in the Mad Dogz group chat. 

Bootyyyshaker9000 After an illuminating conversation, during which absolutely no robot sons were taken hostage to force my compliance, I have seen the error of my ways and will endeavor to change my behavior. I wanted to offer my sincerest apologies to Angelo for my invasion of his privacy. I am not making this statement under duress. YellowSubmarine Good enough for you, baby?

Mikey’s grin graduates with honors into a laugh, that charming, full-bodied thing that fills whatever room he happens to be in. He types a quick reply and the group chat goes crazy. Leo sort of just lays there and takes the moment in. 

In about an hour, it’ll be time for another round of medication, but Leo thinks—even though it’s sappy and saccharine and he would never, ever say it out loud—that this is medicine enough. 

“Sooo,” Leo says, “you gonna tell me about him?”

“Leo,” Mikey groans, but he’s still smiling. 

“Oh, come on, you have to give me something.”

“How ‘bout a trade?”

Aww, his baby brother knows how to barter. Leo is so proud.

“I’m listening,” he says.

“I’ll tell you about Woody,” Mikey offers, waving his phone around, “if you tell me about that bunny waiter from Run of the Mill who asked for your number.”

Leo would shoot upright if he had, like, a completely unbroken back. As it is he has to move a little slower. 

“What?? Why—how did you—I mean, who?” Nailed it.

“Raph overheard the entire thing,” Mikey says sweetly. “He thought it was cute so he told me since I was right there. You know he can’t handle cute without gushing about it to somebody.”

It’s Raph’s knee-jerk reaction, like cute-aggression; only instead of squeezing or biting, he has to overshare to the nearest available party, usually while choking back tears. 

Kneading his temples, Leo forces out, “Mm-hmm.” 

He can’t even be mad, though. It’s Raph. If Donnie had been the one to overhear, it’d be plastered on a billboard above Times Square by now. 

“Lemme have this one on Donnie,” Mikey says, and brings out the big guns, brown eyes all wide and liquid. “He always gets your secrets first.”

“Disaster twins privilege,” Leo replies, so he doesn’t have to think about the novel concept that his family could believe his secrets are worth anything. “Alright, Miguel. Since it’s to spite Dontron specifically, you have yourself a deal.”

Mikey whoop-whoops, with the arm and everything. It’s so stupid. And it makes Leo think, This Woody guy doesn’t know how lucky he is. 

[thelionbyname]

“The Pole, The American, And The Four Brits”Prequel part two

(It needs a better name... any suggestions? Anyway, enjoy! )

Those with heightened senses could begin to decipher what was going on. Impulse, with ears more sensitive than those of a bat, took out the earplugs he had to wear when playing music, and listened carefully. Alongside the screams, he could hear the faint snik of the Hermits blinking as they tried to let their eyes adjust to the sudden darkness. But they soon noticed that their eyes weren’t adjusting, and they were all rendered blind for the time being. It seemed as though all the light had been sucked away, every last shimmer.

Only one seemed to be able to see. When previously her blonde hair had been bouncing around her face, it now hung still, framing her angelic face. From underneath thick, dark lashes gazed two shining eyes of light summer blue. These eyes had no trouble seeing in the pitch black, and easily studied the scene. They swept across the confused faces of everyone in the room, picking up every detail. 

Almost everyone present had the hairs on the backs of their necks standing upright, and goosebumps on their arms. The screams had chilled them all to the bone. The maroon wolf had made a reappearance; Ren’s reflexes had prepared him for battle. Fangs bared, a menacing growl escaped from his muzzle. None of the hermits were alarmed by this, as they knew Ren’s growl only too well. 

“Falsie, can you see?” Impulse suddenly asked the blonde woman, turning in her general direction.

“Yes, I see everything, but nothing peculiar,” her soft british voice responded.

Ren’s furry ears pricked up then, and Impulse’s head turned to face up. Their powerful hearing picked up something that False couldn’t.

“What is it? What do you hear?” she inquired urgently. But the answer presented itself. Though Impulse and Ren had picked up on the sound before the others could, it became louder and louder, until everyone present was listening to the sucking noise, like a vortex was about to consume the world.

“I think we should go outside, see what’s going on,” Impulse suggested.

“Only the three of us are able to navigate in this darkness, Impulse, and based on those screams, whatever’s out there will require more than that to hold our own.”

“I can navigate, I know echolocation,” a new voice suddenly contributed. His voice was slightly raspy, and very clearly German. False looked at the source, and studied a half creeper, half cyborg man in amazement.

“You do?” She asked him, impressed but honestly not surprised. She looked around the room and saw her admiring expression mirrored in the faces of the rest of the hermits.

“Yes, now we should get outside”.

Tango suddenly had an amazing idea. Impulse could tell by the way his heart sped up. And sure enough, a few seconds later Tango’s fully developed plan made its way from his brain to his mouth. “Wait! What if Cleo and I link our minds to everyone else’s, and we can all see through Falsie’s eyes? It would take some getting used to, we would need to move as one, but it would allow us all to see.”

Murmurs of assent rippled through the crowd.

“It’s better than nothing. Besides, I’ve always wanted to have a look in your mind,” Zedaph said to Tango.

“I think the best way to do it is that Tango and I each connect to half of you, and then connect to each other,” Cleo decided. “Permission to enter your minds?”

Everyone nodded. Not that Cleo could see that, but she saw their surface thoughts even before she fully embraced their minds with hers. Within a second, Cleo and Tango’s minds had wrapped around each other, woven together until they thought as one, and there was no telling which thought was whose. There was no need to debate whose mind would link to which hermits’; as soon as one of them thought it, so did the other. They expanded their minds to engulf those of twelve hermits each.

It was a rather bizarre feeling. From one moment to the next, everyone had super hearing, they could all see in incredible detail, and a strange scent suddenly seemed to fill their nostrils.

“Ugh, Ren, is this what humans smell like to you?” Grian asked, pinching his nose. But that didn’t help, of course, because the smell came from his mind.

A strange rumbling came from the wolf, and it sounded like he was laughing.

The panic outside was almost entirely forgotten as the hermits adjusted to their new senses and eased into their webbed connection. But then a particularly loud scream broke through those the hermits had managed to tune out. This brought them all back to the issue at hand.

“Right. We have more important things to deal with it sounds like. We weren't given these powers to mess around,” Xisuma said, taking charge. It was unnecessary to talk anymore, as everyone hears his every thought, but he did it out of habit.

Everyone moved simultaneously. It was a sight to behold, as twenty four men and women all made their way across the large room to the front doors, taking their steps at exactly the same time. Left, right, stumble. 

“This gives a whole new meaning to the phrase ‘Together we are one’,” the man with the moustache grinned.

But the more they practiced, the more independent, but still linked, their minds became. Before they’d made it out of the building, most of them were able to individually avoid obstacles. In less time than any of them would have estimated, they were outside. As soon as they got there, they found themselves clutching onto one another, as something tried to suck them away from the face of the earth. The reason for the screams quickly became apparent; about a dozen people also had the misfortune to be outside at that moment, and a small black hole was sucking them in. It seemed to be just strong enough to pull in anything not attached to the ground, and judging by the way some people sobbed, it had already claimed its first victims.

The hermits tried their best to get back inside; it would do nobody any good if they got sucked through, and they could work out a plan from in there. But the black hole had other plans. As if it knew the hermits had appeared, as if it knew they were vulnerable, it started getting stronger. It tried to pull them into its deadly embrace, tearing at their fancy clothes and whipping their hair about.

“I’m slipping! Guys, help!” a voice, who the Hermits all knew belonged to Keralis, shouted in panic. He could barely hold on to the streetlantern he had managed to grasp. One by one, his fingers slid off. A split second before he let go, Xisuma launched himself at him, trying to weigh him down. “Sashwammy, no! Let go!” Keralis tried to warn him, but it was too late. Together, they hurled into the void.

                                            *          *          *

[danzinora-switch]

Typing the Turtles (ROTTMNT) Part 1 - Raphael

This started out as an investigation into the turtles’ insecurities, because one thing the show does so well is demonstrate that they are still teenagers. And being a teenager is a confusing experience - there’s angst, drama, exploring one’s identity, a lot of growth, and overall figuring out who you are. That’s a messy process, too! And we see this mess in our turtles: they mess up, they’re learning, they self-doubt, they have fears and insecurities, but they’re also discovering their strengths and how to overcome their inner obstacles.

So after thinking about all this way too long, here’s my psychological breakdown of each turtle (I’ll be referencing MBTI and the Enneagram, but will include links for more general information on those if you don’t know what I’m talking about).

Raph: ISFJ, 6w5

The Defender, The Loyalist, The Big Brother, did I mention The Defender?

Raph is always helping out the little guy, whether that little guy is Mikey, Donnie, Leo, April or someone else. In the first episode, Mystic Mayhem, Raph is the one who notices poor Mayhem alone and scared, and suggests they should help him. He just met the little furball, and even after Mayhem attacks his face he’s still ready to fight some dog-jogger Yokai to protect him. He’s there when April’s school is attacked by Hypno (Hypno! Part Deux) and when she just needs her fan fixed (Repairin’ the Baron). He’s also there for a myriad of underdogs, such as Guy Flambe (Pizza Puffs). Interestingly enough, that episode also indicates that Raph has taken to moonlighting as the hero Red Angel of Preventing Harm.

Raph at his Worst: What is Raph afraid of? Beyond Mrs. Cuddles. Raph is afraid of being alone. But he also feels strongly empathetic when others are alone: Mikey on a solo mission in Hot Soup: The Game, Mayhem in the pilot, Frankenfoot when he runs away.  But why? 

If we look through the lens of the Enneagram, Raph wants security and support. The system/structure he is most committed to is their inner circle of family/friends. So nothing must happen to those he loves!

Raph has also demonstrated Worst-Case Scenario thinking when he’s stressed. Alone for 5 minutes in Man vs Sewer? Expect the worst. In Nothing but Truffles, Mikey even flashes back to a Raph lecture about what to do in the event of a: shark attack, vampire attack, werewolf attack, and puppy attack.

That said, when someone does hurt someone he loves, or sufficiently threatens/scares him and/or his support system, all his disaster-planning goes out the window in an effort to SMASH IT LIKE A BOSS! (Counterphobic 6).

He puts a lot of pressure on himself, but it’s not really about failing in big moments (as Leo describes it in Mystic Mayhem and Down with the Sickness, but that says more about Leo than Raph), but more about letting the others down. He needs to open the gateway to the Mystic City or else they’ll lose April forever. He needs to think of something to ask for in the Must Say Yes stage that will please all his brothers and not leave anyone out. And, in Insane in the Mama Train, Raph is the one most affected when Splinter says he’s disappointed. The others were willing to brush it off and apologize, but Raph is aware that they let Splinter down. It’s something worse, and he feels that hurt, deeply.

Raph is also sensitive enough that he sometimes takes things too personally. When Mikey and Donnie have a good idea in One Man’s Junk, he internalizes it as ‘Raph never has a good idea’. Mikey sorts that out the best: “We’re not saying you don’t have good ideas, Raph. We’re just saying we do, too.” It seems to snap him out of self-deprecating funk.

Average Raph: Raph wants to protect those he loves from physical threats, but also emotional ones. That’s why he’s so bad at handling interpersonal conflict. He can’t yell at Donnie in Donnie’s Gifts. He can’t yell at (Mike? Lou? Tony?) in the Pizza Pit because “it’ll destroy him”. He’s super conflict-averse when it comes to those he cares about. He doesn’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings (ISFJ). Mostly this is a kind, caring, compassionate trait, but sometimes the situation needs Dr. Delicate Touch.

He’s the supportive friend and brother. He’s always ready to help out, whether it’s fixing April’s fan (Repairin’ the Baron), rescuing Guy Flambe from Meatsweats (Pizza Puffs) or saving Mayhem from the mirror. He’s encouraging… but sometimes to the point of enabling. In Pizza Puffs he recognizes this the most and literally wrestles with himself over trying to let his brothers fix problems on their own without him there to protect them. Sometimes he can’t help but support his friends even when he doesn’t want to: when he’s volun-told by Mikey to help warm Draxum up to humans, he doesn’t ditch, and when April invokes the Birthday Card to help Warren Stone he honors it. He can be dedicated and loyal to a fault.

He can be a little short-sighted, at times. His team-building exercise in Stuck On You was meant to be a positive, brotherly, bonding experience, but suffered from serious drawbacks. His tenacity in smashing foes is admirable, but doesn’t always get the best results, something Donnie tries to get him to see and think through. But they’re also what makes him a force to be reckoned with. You do NOT mess with Raph’s inner circle and expect NOT to get smashed, hoss! And the fact that his brothers know that he has their backs like this is probably its own form of support and security.

Raph at his Best: He believes in the Mad Dogs the most, that they can be and are heroes. “We’re do-gooders! And what do do-gooders do? They do good! And they do good well.” (The Mutant Menace) His compassion and commitment to protecting the underdog keep the others on track and in line with their goals. He is the rock in the middle of the chaos.

Raph actually has good practical skills: he has the mission calendar that only he seems to consistently stick to, and clearly enough self-discipline to responsibly and reliably sleep with his retainer on every night (Flushed, But Not Forgotten)

He also has the most grounded sense of duty. When they’re watching the skateboarding livestream in Gilbert’s Department store in The Longest Fight, Raph is the one who first investigates what sounds like a robbery, and is the one who cajoles his brothers into fighting the Foot. It’s a ‘look, guys, we have to do the right thing here and prevent them from stealing!’ moment. Pizza Puffs: look, guys, you’re going to have to learn to solve problems without me, it’s for your own good! (He knows that’s what needs to happen, even though he’s at war inside over it).

Raph says: what’s the responsible thing to do? And he’s trying to get his brothers to understand this as well (Pizza Puffs).

Raph Relationships:

Donnie: despite the lack of a full Donnie & Raph episode, they have a few surprising things in common. They each have an episode where they want their brothers to learn something. Donnie, in Mind Meld, wants his brothers to be smarter and plan ahead. Raph, in Pizza Puffs, wants his brothers to use some common sense and be a little more responsible. They both like finding solutions to problems, just one focuses on technical and one focuses on interpersonal problems. Mostly (for right now, though) Raph can be blunt with Donnie. He’ll slap the genius in the face with reality. “Donnie! The mech is REAL!” (The Purple Game). “Donnie, I know you know how to say it. We’re all on to you.” (Air Turtle). This is one turtle with whom he can put his foot down and say ‘hey! Back to Earth, now!’ (I can also see them collectively sharing facepalm moments in the future).

Leo: there are times when Leo’s need to be the best and stand-out attitude clash with Raph’s focus on teamwork (Air Turtle, for example “take your win-at-all-costs attitude somewhere else, Leo, we need to work as a team!”) but they do get to a point where both of their strengths in the group strengthen each other, like how iron sharpens iron. Raph wants everyone to work together as a team, but Leo sees their individual strengths. Without that, we get Raph’s glueball disaster in Stuck On You, but together, we have their greatest moment in Many Unhappy Returns. Leo points out the parts each member have to play, and Raph puts it all together in one big plan to defeat the Shredder. “Trust me, bro.” “I do.” (I’m really excited to see where the show goes with this).

Mikey: the main Mikey & Raph episode right now actually seems to be Repairin’ the Baron, and there’s an interesting clash going on here. Raph believes and supports his system, his family. Draxum has been the mortal enemy of the Mad Dogs and deserves to be smashed. However, Mikey is adopting him into the family. Raph is not immediately okay with this, he has a hard time trying to change his inner world. But he cares about Mikey. As he tells Draxum “I’m still trying to get used to this, but Mikey thinks you’re part of the family. And the number rule of the Mad Dogs is: you always take care of family!” They’re actually very complementary, as Mikey can step in in emotionally charged situations where Raph can’t, and how his adaptability gets through Raph’s need for stability. (It will be interesting to see what Raph does as Mikey grows up).

Ultimately, I’m excited to see Raph grow as he figures out the best way to guide this team and save the world. Home is where the heart is, and he’s got a big enough heart to be the home for a lot of people.

So that’s my (unbelievably cut-down) analysis of Rottmnt Raph! I’m going to save the relationships with April and Splinter for later, since this is already too long. Here are the links to learn more about the ISFJ and counterphobic 6w5 if you’re interested:

https://www.16personalities.com/isfj-personality

https://www.enneagraminstitute.com/type-6

https://enneagrampaths.com/2018/04/09/im-afraid-im-going-to-punch-you-discussions-about-the-phobic-and-counter-phobic-enneagram-type-six/

https://www.crystalknows.com/enneagram/type-6-wing-5

https://thoughtcatalog.com/heidi-priebe/2016/01/mbti-and-the-enneagram-2/10/

[inthedayswhenlandswerefew]

Eccentricity [Chapter 9: Now I Love Your Shadow And I Love Your Curls]

Series Summary: Joe Mazzello is a nice guy with a weird family. A VERY weird family. They have a secret, and you have a choice to make. Potentially a better love story than Twilight.

Chapter Title Is A Lyric From: “Til I Die” by Parsonsfield. 

Chapter Warnings: Language, references to sex, violence, and drug use.

Word Count: 7.6k.

Other Chapters (And All My Writing) Available: HERE

Taglist: @queen-turtle-boiii​ @bramblesforbreakfast​ @maggieroseevans​ @culturefiendtrashqueen​ @imnotvibingveryguccimrstark​ @escabell​ @im-an-adult-ish​ @queenlover05​ @someforeigntragedy​ @imtheinvisiblequeen​ @seven-seas-of-ham-on-rhyee​ @deacyblues​ @tensecondvacation​ @brianssixpence​ @some-major-ishues​ @haileymorelikestupid​ @youngpastafanmug​ @simonedk​

Field Trip

“You want to go to Chicago with me?”                

I coughed, having almost inhaled a chunk of pineapple off my slice of GrubHubbed pizza. We were sitting on the grass outside Forks And Spoons under the shade of the maple trees, which were turning from jade to ruby to amber to fool’s gold, rejoining the earth they once rose from one fallen leaf at a time. It hadn’t rained in almost four days—was that some kind of record?!—and the leaves littering the ground crunched when I stepped on them, which I did purposefully and often. The breeze was soft and whispery and temperate. I could get used to this whole having actual seasons thing. “What, in like a hypothetical, at some point in my life kind of way?”

Joe smiled. His U Chicago hoodie of the day was black. “No, as in this weekend.”

“Really?”

“The Cubs have a game on Saturday, and it’s supposed to be rainy and overcast the whole time, and I just thought...” He shrugged, toying with a piece of pizza crust before tossing it to the squirrels. He’s nervous, I realized. How the hell do I have the ability to make the sexy undead Italian man nervous? “It might be nice for us to be able to get away for a few days. Away from my family. Away from Charlie. Not that I don’t appreciate the ambient noise of his snoring from the living room couch, it’s super endearing, I seriously consider dating him instead of you at least twice a week.”

“Go for it. Charlie could use a rich husband. His pension is pathetic.”

“You wouldn’t miss me?”

“I am not necessarily opposed to clandestinely seducing my sugar daddy stepdad should the occasion arise.”

Joe crossed himself like a nun passing tattooed, cursing, lip-pierced teenagers on the sidewalk. “Lord, protect me from this harlot.”

A weekend away. No Charlie, no constant and chaotic whirlwind of Lees, no Ben. I hadn’t spoken to Ben since our misadventure in the Lee kitchen; if he wasn’t avoiding me of his own volition, he was following orders to stay away. Joe claimed that they’d talked it out. I wasn’t sure if I believed him. “I accept your invitation. Although, truthfully, I’d rather get hit by a bus than watch an entire real-life, no-commercial-breaks baseball game.”

“I accept your acceptance. And I’ll throw in a visit to the Shedd Aquarium, just for you. They have baby sea otters.”

“Sweet.” I checked my iPhone. “I’m gonna be late for Chemistry.”

“Anything fun planned?”

“We’re doing a lab involving hydrochloric acid. I’m highly concerned that Ben will accidentally spill some on himself. The miraculous instantaneous healing thing might raise a few questions.”

“Hm,” Joe replied. But he wasn’t looking at me; he was looking at my bandaged hand. And he wasn’t smiling anymore.

“Joe, I’m fine.”

“Yeah.” He took a preoccupied swig of his Dr. Pepper. Solemnity never seemed right on him; it was like he was wearing somebody else’s skin. “You’ve mentioned that.”

“Hey. Mob guy.”

Now his eyes flicked to mine.                              

“No more sad spaghetti.”

“Okay.” He surrendered, took my face in his hands, gave me a kiss on each cheek and then one quick parting peck on the forehead. “You win. I’m not sad. I’m ecstatic, actually. I’m gonna be eating my weight in hotdogs and mustard-slathered pretzels on Saturday. What’s there not to be ecstatic about?”

“The fact that your license says you’re only twenty and consequently can’t get a beer?”

Joe blinked, remembering. “Fuck.”

I drained my Diet Coke, flung my pizza crust to the skittering grey squirrels—no eerie albino forest friends today—and pulled on my backpack. “See ya. Have an awesome time in Game Theory.”

“Thanks, I probably won’t!” he chimed, waving, grinning compliantly; and yet did I still sense some lingering menace of disquiet, of fear? I suspected I did. Chicago would cure everything.

Ben tensed when I walked into Professor Belvin’s classroom, ran his fingers through his unruly blond hair, peered fixedly down at his notebook and feigned obliviousness. There was already a metal tray of Erlenmeyer flasks, labeled bottles of solutions, burettes, goggles, gloves, and an unassembled ring stand crowding our small table by the open window. Autumn air poured in like seawater through cracks in the hull of a ship.

“Guess who’s gonna see the Cubs play up close and personal this Saturday?” I announced.

He pretended to have just noticed me. “...You...? But that doesn’t sound like you.”

“It was Joe’s idea. I’m acting like I’m not totally thrilled and freaking out about it, but I am. Don’t tell him.”

Now Ben was the one staring at my bandaged hand. His green eyes were large and unfocused.

“I’m fine,” I insisted.  

“Sure,” Ben returned noncommittally.

I started skimming through the packet of lab instructions and setting up our titration experiment as Professor Belvin circulated through the classroom, observing, commenting, offering suggestions and critiques. My wounded hand—still sore in the lull between Advil doses and relatively useless—was quite the embarrassing hinderance; I fumbled with a large glass flask and almost dropped it.

Ben shook his head and reached out to stop me. “Here, oh my god, this is so pitiful, sit down. Please sit down. I’ll set it up. It’s the least I can do.”

“Thanks.” I peeked at his notebook. “Your handwriting is atrocious. Haven’t you had like a century to work on that?”

“Penmanship was never at the top of my to-do list, tragically.”

“What language is that, anyway?” The phrases scrawled in black ink in Ben’s notebook definitely weren’t English. Or Italian. “Elvish? Are you a lowkey Lord Of The Rings fan? Magic and self-sacrifice and nearly insurmountable evil, I could see that being your thing.”

He smirked, struggling with the ring stand. “It’s Welsh.”

“Welsh,” I repeated, perplexed. “Welsh...like how Gwil is Welsh?”

“Precisely.”

Professor Belvin checked in on us, nodded in approval, reminded me that I was always welcome to stop by at bowling league activities, and resumed his wandering.

“Gwil still speaks it,” Ben continued. “The rest of them speak it too. At least enough for basic communication.”

“I didn’t know,” I said, fascinated, examining the long, unfamiliar words riddled with Ls and Ws and Cs. “But that must be very useful.”

“It is. Welsh is nearly a dead language at this point. It’s like talking in code. I always refused to learn it on principle...or maybe I was just being difficult. I would study other languages, Arabic, Japanese...but not Welsh. That was always Gwil’s language. Their language. It was a Lee thing. But now...”

“Now you’re sort of a Lee too,” I finished for him, smiling.

“Whatever,” Ben said, hiding behind his bangs.

I watched him as he at last tamed the ring stand, secured the burette, placed the Erlenmeyer flask. Then he began reading the labels on the solution bottles. “Guess what else.”

“What, Baby Swan?”

I grinned, showing off my unremarkable, entirely benign human teeth. “I’ll bring you back your very own U Chicago hoodie.”

That night, after a pleasantly prosaic dinner with Charlie—burgers, one veggie and one of the conventional variety, and milkshakes at Danny’s Diner—I started packing a small, Arizona-sky-blue suitcase as sparse raindrops pattered against the roof and moonlight streamed in through the open window. Then I ticked off my mental inventory.

“Jeans, sweaters, pajamas, socks...”

I pawed through the top drawer of my old, scratched dresser—the same one that had once upon a time been Renee’s—and contemplated the bra and panty options. Would my theme be comfort and practicality, or feral impenitent seductress? Friday and Saturday in Chicago would be our first nights alone together. That had to be significant, right? After some deliberation, I gathered a handful of lacy, transparent, and/or exceptionally skimpy lingerie from Victoria’s Secret that Jessica had more or less forced upon me during a shopping trip in Port Angeles last month. As I dropped them into the open suitcase, I glanced up to see the albino owl outside my open bedroom window.

“You never know,” I told the owl, shrugging.

It leered judgmentally back at me with those gory red eyes.

“Oh shut up. How many eggs have you laid in your lifetime, Casper The Unfriendly Ghost? Probably like a bazillion. Freaking feathery trollop.”

The owl had nothing to offer in its own defense.

“Why don’t you ever come around when Joe’s here? I’m sure he’d love to meet you. He’s pale and weird too. Although I like his eyes a little better than yours. No offense, Snowflake.”

The owl blinked, tilted its gaze at me, ruffled its feathers and sent the raindrops that had gathered there flying in every direction.

I slid my iPhone out of my back pocket, spun around, and snapped a quick selfie with the owl in the background. “Say cheese, Marshmallow!”

The owl immediately unfurled its wings and flapped off into the trees, vanishing.

“Huh. I guess homegirl is camera shy.” I texted my selfie to Archer, typing out with my thumbs: I am the Steve Irwin of Forks. Behold, one of my many forest friends.

Archer replied a few minutes later: WOW! Pasty and mildly disturbing. Exactly your type. :)

“Yours too, apparently,” I murmured, smiling in my empty room.

I went to my full-length mirror with the plastic, teal-colored border, briefly appraised my reflection, felt a dull swell of approval for what I saw there. The version of myself that had once been so consumed by fears of inadequacy seemed impossibly far away, maybe even fictitious, a dream so vivid I could mistake it for truth. Three things were taped across the top of the mirror: Joe’s Official Citation!! No More Sad Spaghetti!! post-it, his Official Whatever You Want Pass, and a photo of us dressed up together and standing in front of the limo in the Lees’ driveway just before the Calawah University Homecoming dance. I peeled off the Official Whatever You Want Pass, carefully folded it into a neat little square, and tucked it into my wallet.

When the rain began to pour and thunder rolled in off the Pacific Ocean, I closed my bedroom window; but I remembered to leave it unlocked for Joe.

Departure

“Got your license?”

“Yes, Dad,” Joe sighed.

“Got your airport snacks?”

Joe held up the gallon-sized Ziploc bag filled with pumpkin and white chocolate chip cookies. “We’re ready to rock.”

“Call me when you get there safe,” Mercy fretted, hugging me and then Joe. “And Joseph, sweetheart, you make sure you keep an eye on her. She’s never been to Chicago before, it’s a big city, and O’Hare is an absolute nightmare, it’s so easy to get lost...”

“I don’t think he needs any reminders, love.” Dr. Lee laid a hand on her shoulder, stroked his neatly-trimmed beard with the other, watched us with a vague and wistful smile.

Mercy went back to trimming the flowers she had spread out across the kitchen countertop, white calla lilies that she threaded one by one into a translucent sapphire blue vase. “Now don’t forget to say goodbye to your brother. He’s out back feeding the new ducks. And I expect these ones to stick around for a while, thank you very much.”

“Mom, I don’t need to say goodbye to Rami. I’ll just think it. Really loudly.” Joe rubbed his temples with his fingertips and squeezed his eyes shut. “Peace out, you nosy bastard.”

“Joseph,” Mercy pleaded.

“Okay, okay, I’ll go say goodbye. Don’t get all aggressive. Don’t take it out on the flowers.” Aggressive...what a joke. I doubted that Mercy Eleanor Lee, formerly Martin, had a single aggressive bone in her immortal body; not even the infinitesimal stapes of her inner ears or the sesamoids of her feet.

“They’re calla lilies,” she replied dreamily, tending them like children. “And they symbolize love, and beauty, and fidelity...”

My nostrils itched and burned faintly in dissent. “I think I’m allergic to them.”

“You’re allergic to fidelity?” Joe asked, raising his eyebrows. “That’s it, now you’re definitely not getting my reclaimed virginity. No ma’am. I am not hit-it-and-quit-it material.”

“Oh sweet baby Jesus,” Mercy murmured.

“I’m going,” Joe said, showing his palms in capitulation and disappearing out the back door. I dragged my suitcase to the front one, politely declining Mercy and Gwil’s offers to help.

Lucy—her bleached hair in a high half-ponytail and wearing polka-dotted black tights, combat boots, a plaid miniskirt, and an extremely Octoberish orange sweater—was sitting cross-legged on the roof of Gwil’s Volvo. God, he’s such a dad. “Have a nice time,” she chirped artfully.

I opened the hatch of Joe’s Subaru and threw my suitcase inside. “Why do you sound like you already know I will?”

“I might have some relevant clairvoyant insight.”

“No way.” I stared up at her, stunned, my hands on my waist. “But you can’t see me, right...?”

“True. But this vision wasn’t of you. It was of Joe. You just happened to be there.”

Interesting. Very interesting. “And what transpired in this vision?” A night full of hot, steamy, blissful vampire sex? A girl could dream.

Lucy closed her eyes, recalling it fondly, maybe even cherishing it. “You were sitting in the stands of a professional baseball game. I could hear the crowd roaring, the umpire’s trumpeting interruptions. Blue and white...everyone was wearing blue and white. And you were there together—Joe a vampire, you human, side by side, almost entwined—shouting to each other over the thunderous noise and laughing and pushing nuggets of soft pretzels into each other’s mouths. So happy. I’d never seen Joe so happy.” Her striking pale eyes came open. “And he’s someone who’s already rather prone to happiness, as I’m sure you’ve noticed.”

“I have,” I agreed.

“He’s never been serious about anybody else. I hope you know that.”

“I know that’s what he tells me.”

“It’s the truth,” Lucy insisted. “I would know if it wasn’t. Rami would know, Ben would know. Joe...he’s kind of the opposite of you. He’s always been the easiest to read. He’s the one Rami hears most loudly, the one who shows up most often in my visions. He’s clear, you know? Uncomplicated. Authentic. And what you mean to him...it’s something everybody sees. It’s a contagious sort of lightness, of joy. So thank you for that.”

And if whatever mysterious genetic switch that renders me immune to your talents wasn’t flipped, I’m pretty sure I’d look the same way. “I should definitely be thanking you,” I said. “You guys have a pretty cool existence going on here. And I’m so grateful to be invited into it.” For however long this lasts, anyway.

“None of us really invited you,” Lucy demurred. “We just let it happen.”

“So everyone knew I was coming? Because you saw it?”

“Everyone but Joe.”

“You never told him?”

“No. Not even now.” Lucy turned sharply towards the trees, as if she heard something in the soaring western hemlocks that swayed drunkenly in the wind. After a moment, she continued. “I’m not sure if I can even explain why. It wasn’t that I feared changing the timeline or something...my visions always come true regardless. Always. But I guess...” She tugged on her short half-ponytail, pondering. “I guess I didn’t want to cloud any of his decision-making, any of his emotions with the specter of the inevitable. I wanted whatever he felt for you to be completely organic. And it is.”

I considered her. “You are extremely thoughtful for someone who spends as much time shopping as you do.”

Lucy laughed in a high-pitched, almost juvenile trill, netting her fingers beneath her chin, her elbows resting on her bent knees. “I do like to shop. I didn’t always though.” She peered off into the trees again, this time pensively. “Did Joe tell you anything about my life before Gwil saved me?”

“Aside from the copious hippie jokes, not really.”

She nodded, her eyes far-away and still lost in the forest. “Gwil and Mercy are inordinately wonderful people. My biological father and mother, unfortunately, were not. And maybe they couldn’t help it, because from what I understand their parents were monsters too. I don’t think of them very often now, not even to resent them. But when I was alive I burned with it, with all that hatred, with all that bitterness. Every bruise was another log on the fire. Every screaming match or hurled plate was a splash of gasoline. So I ran away and found what I fancied to be a new family, and I lived on basement couches and out of vans and in abandoned buildings, and I explored increasingly inventive ways of putting that fire out.”

The October breeze cascaded through the trees, carrying echoes of birdsong and disembodied distant voices and the scent of pine. It reminded me of Joe.

“Chemically speaking,” Lucy said, “that first hit of heroin, that first high...it’s the best you’ll ever feel in your entire life. Nothing else will ever compare. Not skydiving, not backpacking through Southeast Asia on some Pulitzer-prize-winning journey of self-discovery, not winning the lottery, not the births of your children, not falling in love. And once you accept that, what’s the point in stopping? Everything you ever experience will live in the shadow of that needle. You’re twenty-five and you’ve already seen the endgame. You’re born, you suffer, you catch a glimpse of paradise, you pay bills and push shopping carts down the aisles of grocery stores and insipidly smile your way through your husband’s work parties until you die. What’s the fucking point? So I didn’t stop shooting heroin. And the whole time, I knew it was killing me. That’s what they don’t tell kids when they force them to make those idiotic classroom promises to never do drugs. You know it’s killing you, but you don’t care. Because it feels so goddamn good. Because it becomes the only sliver of your existence that doesn’t cut like glass beneath your skin. Sometimes you love things so much you let them kill you, isn’t that ridiculous?”

I wasn’t sure how to answer her; still, I heard my own voice: “Yes, it is.”

“It took dying for me to see that life is worth living. That there’s magic in the mundane and the frivolous. And that there’s beauty everywhere if you bother to look for it.” Lucy uncrossed her trim legs, leapt gracefully off the Volvo, and—with definite but not unkind scrutiny—pulled at the collar of my thrift shop sweater. “Even in your very, very, very misguided fashion preferences.”

The front door of the Lee house swung open, and Joe jogged out, carrying his suitcase. Gwil, Mercy, Scarlett, Rami, and Ben appeared on the porch to wave us off.

“What’d you do?!” Joe demanded, pointing at Lucy.

“Nothing,” she quipped.

“You guys gotta stop doing this!” Joe exclaimed. “You know what you’re doing, you know exactly what you’re doing, you gotta stop cornering people and forcing them to listen to your creepy tragic backstories! Nobody freaking asked!”

Lucy chuckled patiently and stood on her tiptoes to hug him goodbye. “Have fun.”

“You know it.” Joe tossed his suitcase into the Subaru and opened the driver’s door. “Ready, Baby Swan?”

“Almost.”

I walked to the wrap-around porch, climbed the steps, held my hand out to Ben. My stitches had almost completely dissolved over the past week, and the clunky impediment of bandages was no more. Joe crossed his arms and watched from beside the Subaru with an uneasy frown, but he didn’t try to stop me. He nodded to Rami, so subtly I almost didn’t notice. Rami nodded back.

“I will miss your melodramatic brooding immensely,” I told Ben. “Please do some fun family stuff while we’re gone. I’ll see you soon. Dan eich bendith.”

“Dan eich bendith,” he replied, taken aback. And then, after a moment’s hesitation, he ignored my outstretched hand and embraced me, his grasp so strong and yet so careful. His scent like crisp leaves and salted caramel and autumn sieved into a bottle unfolded in my lungs like an opened book.

“I Googled that especially for you,” I whispered. “You’re welcome.”

“I’m in awe.” His words were characteristically sardonic, but I heard warmth in them as well. When Ben pulled away, I saw that everyone else was smiling. Mercy had tears in her eyes.

I retreated back down the porch steps and met Joe by the Subaru. “Okay, mob guy. I’m good.”

He slid on his sunglasses, shook his head, flashed a proud and toothy grin. “You definitely are.”

All the way down Route 101 to the Seattle-Tacoma International Airport, we listened to Joe’s classic rock mixtapes and my NOAA Ocean Podcast episodes, reviewed the weekend itinerary, ran through the bare essentials for me to understand an MLB game (“Which I am totally not excited about whatsoever,” I informed Joe, who knew enough not to believe me).

When the Boeing 747 ascended above the clouds and unimpeded sunlight poured in from the other passengers’ windows, Joe put on a black sleeping mask over his sunglasses and reclined his seat, tried to nap, passed the time until he would be safe beneath the curtains of the sky again.

Somewhere over the Dakotas, as I leafed through a book about the Great Barrier Reef for my Marine Botany class, Joe’s hand bumped mine. “Hey,” he said drowsily, seriously; and I braced myself for some emotional declaration, some dire warning, some grave realization of the futility of what we agreed—almost always wordlessly, and yet unfailingly—was love.

“Yeah?”

“It’s an emergency.”

“Uh oh,” I replied, smiling now.

“Flag down the flight attendant and get some more of those honey roasted peanut packets,” Joe said. “I’m starving myself back to death over here.”

The Windy City

The bat cracked deafeningly against the baseball pitched at nearly a hundred miles per hour. It was a home run. The crowd erupted into mindless, primal shrieks of conquest; and when Joe jumped to his feet, clapping and cheering and nearly spilling his blue-and-white bucket of popcorn, I found that I did as well. I screamed for the team of a city I’d never lived in, sank back into my seat beside Joe, nestled against his chest as his right arm closed around my waist and hauled me in closer, as his left hand teased me with a soft pretzel nugget hovering just out of reach. And in that moment, I felt like Lucy, snatching Polaroids out of the space-time continuum of the present and the future and the past. There was where Joe and I were right now, of course; the day we had met each other in the nonfiction section of the Calawah University library; the dance floor at Homecoming; the first night he snuck soundlessly into my bedroom window; all those years we still had left to spend together. Not forever, but perhaps long enough.

“I like this baseball thing,” I told him over the roar of the crowd, twirling my fingers around the curling locks of dark hair that stuck out from under his Cubs cap. Or maybe I just like you.

“Whew, thank god.” Joe wiped his forehead with the back of his hand in mock relief. “Now I don’t have to break up with you.”

After the game—a 5-3 Cubs victory, close enough to keep the spectators’ blood pumping throughout—we boarded the L, held onto the metal railings as the packed train car bumped and swerved along, and disembarked in Little Italy. Historic brownstones were interrupted by a freckling of pizzerias, Italian ice stands, and sports bars spilling out shouts of triumph and despair. We were staying in the Four Seasons with a view of Lake Michigan; but we had an hour of daylight—albeit chilled, dreary, and forever threatening rain—left in our Saturday. Tomorrow would be the aquarium, and then dinner before catching our flight back to Seattle, back to the greenery and fog and eternal dampness that I was beginning to think of as my home. Had I really only left Phoenix two months ago? Had I ever really lived there at all?

“So,” Joe said as we walked under shedding green ash and black cherry trees, his arm draped across my shoulders. “Guess what the University of Chicago has. In addition to a killer Economics PhD program, which yours truly will be graduating from in approximately 2027, astonishingly aged not a single day. Maybe he’s born with it, maybe it’s Maybelline.”

“Hideous sweatshirts?” I guessed.

“One of the best Marine Biology departments in the world. And the affiliated Marine Biological Laboratory up in Massachusetts, where they send their PhDs to do research.”

“Wait, seriously?” I stopped abruptly, the heels of my boots squealing against the sidewalk. “You mean...for me?”

He rolled his eyes. “No, for my other girlfriend who is also inexplicably super obsessed with the ocean. I clearly have a type.”

“You want me...to come to Chicago...with you...after graduation? For like...a five to seven year commitment?”

“Sure, why not?”

“Well, that just sounds...serious.”

“Huh. What do you know. I guess we’re serious after all.” He took my hand and pulled me gently forward, leading me down West Taylor Street. He seemed to have a destination in mind.

“How is this going to work for you, anyway?” I asked, beaming uncontrollably now, trotting along beside him. “Living in a place that isn’t Washington or Scotland or Alaska?” Chicago was cold and cloudy for a lot of the year, true, but few cities were Forks-level wet and sunless. Forks-level tyrannically depressing, I would have said two months ago.  

He shrugged, unphased. “Night classes. Sunglasses. Faking a chronic illness so I don’t have to leave our house. I’m really good at that one. Plus I can get a doctor’s note any time I want one. I’ve got connections, you know.”

Our house. He said OUR house.

Joe came to halt in front of a stately yet plain brownstone which now operated as a trendy bookstore, the kind that sold six dollar lattes and hosted anarchist poetry slams on Friday nights.

“Is this where we’re going to crack hipsters’ kneecaps as a bonding activity?” I asked.

“This is where I grew up.”

I looked again, studying the earth-colored stone quarried over a century ago, the wrought iron railings that framed the front steps, the rectangular windows revealing the illumination and shadows of other families’ lives. “Joe,” I said softly, leaning into him, searching for my words.

“There were eight Mazzello kids: Joseph, Charles, Mimi, Salvador, Donna, Lucia, Bianca, and Giuliano.” He rattled them off like a jingle from a fast food commercial. “And I was the oldest. So when my dad dropped dead of a heart attack in the middle of his shift at the Zenith Radio factory, it was my job to step up and figure out how to keep everyone fed. I was seventeen and completely hopeless at school back then; Sal was always the smart one, the disciplined one, he ended up as a math professor at Loyola University. I was just some directionless, grieving kid who never shut up. But there was a place for boys like me in Chicago in the 1920s. The mob could get you money. The mob could turn that same incessant chatter that got you bruised at school into something useful. And the mob could give you a family.”

Joe watched the brownstone solemnly, meditatively, his hands in his pockets.

“My mom sobbed for an hour the first time I brought home an envelope full of bills with Hamilton’s face on them. She knew how I got it. But how could she say no, how could she tell me to stop? We’d never seen money like that. All my siblings could finish school. My sisters could have new dresses on days that weren’t Christmas and Easter, my brothers new shoes, Sal the glasses he needed so badly. My mother always had something to put in the offering plate at church. And once you were in the mob, it wasn’t exactly easy to leave. But they took care of their own. After I died, they sent my mother money for years, until her own children were established enough to support her. That’s when I learned that money wasn’t just something that put food on the dinner table or kept the lights on. It’s a way of showing loyalty, of giving people peace and comfort and meaningful choices in their lives. It’s how I’ve been taught to give back to the world. So I guess I shouldn’t have disparaged my fellow vampires back in Forks, because there’s a slice of my tragic backstory, Baby Swan. Now you know. And you should know everything, since we’re in this thing together. Or maybe I just want you to.”

I laid my palm against his cool and flawless face, ran my thumb lightly across his cheek. “You really are serious about me.”

“I am alarmingly serious about you.”

“Even though this thing of ours has an expiration date?” Since I can never become a vampire. Since I will never have the distinction of being a permanent fixture of the Lee coven.

“That’s not a problem for today. That’s a problem for ten or fifteen years from now, whenever you decide you want to settle down and have kids and do the whole Great American Dream bit. You’ll be sick of me by then anyway. You’ll be dying to get away from us. Hahaha, get it? It’s a pun. Dying to get away from the vampires.”

I couldn’t imagine ever being sick of Joseph Francis Mazzello. Still, ten or fifteen years felt almost as good as forever to me. Fifteen autumns, fifteen Christmases, fifteen journeys around the sun that he avoided so deftly. “Why me, Joe?” I asked, incredulous. “You could have anyone. Any human, any vampire. Why me?”

“Because you’re you,” he said simply. And his mystified dark eyes added: What kind of a question is that? “You’re smart and you’re hilarious and you actually care about the world, about where it came from, about where it’s going, about people and places and animals that you’ll never meet. You’re indomitable. You’re fearless almost to the point of recklessness. And yet you’re so kind. You’re even nice to Ben, and humans are never nice to him...they’re either horrified or confused, or they’re too busy fantasizing about him to remember that he’s a real fucking person. But you’ve always tried to see the good in him. Even when he didn’t deserve it.” Joe shook his head, marveling. “And yeah, I’ve...I’ve screwed around, full disclosure. I’ve done the hookup thing. And it was great for what it was. But I never wanted more. I never felt some gnawing, sentimental, Hallmark-channel need for connection, to understand who they were as people. And then I met you, and...I want to know every single goddamn thing about you. I want to know your favorite color, what books you read, what the hell is so appealing about pineapple pizza, what you dream of. I feel like I could never get tired of trying to understand you.”

A refrain circled through my mind like a whirlpool, dragging every other thought down into oblivion: I love him, I love him, I love him. “Blue,” I said at last.

“What?”

“Turquoise blue, like the sky in Arizona. That’s my favorite color.”

The smile, slow and wonderous, rippled across his face. He took my hand again. “Come on.”

Joe led me onwards, down a few blocks and around a corner, as the muted sun receded from the sky and the first stars took its place, pinpricks of celestial light in a blanket of violet, azure, amber, rust. He stopped in front of the Church of Saint Lawrence, established in 1902 according to the sign mounted on the brick wall that faced the street, perhaps the same church that he had once visited with his family as an impatient child, snickering with his brothers and sisters and kicking the back of the pew in front of him with shoes that never fit quite right. There was a fountain bubbling with transparent water, a statue of the Virgin Mary at the center, coins made of copper and nickel and zinc glinting through the water under corridors of silvery luminance cast by the streetlights.

“I lied about not having my own superpower,” Joe informed me mischievously, not at all serious.

“Oh, did you now?”

“Absolutely.” He opened his wallet, rooted around, pulled out a penny and handed it to me. “I can make wishes come true. So go ahead.” He nodded towards the fountain. “Make your wish.”

The penny was worn and nearly indecipherable, but I was just barely able to read that it had been minted in 1928. The same year Joe was turned. “Joe...I can’t just throw this away!”

“You’re not throwing it away. You’re exchanging it for a wish. Now wish.”

I closed my eyes, chose my wish, tossed the penny into the fountain. The plink it made when it hit the water was bright and yet mournful somehow, like windchimes, like flickering candlelight.

“Outstanding job,” Joe complimented.

He was so visibly proud, so content, so faultless. The streetlights threw shadows across the sidewalk, the fountain, the whole world it seemed. I laced my fingers behind his neck, gazing up at him. “What are we doing tonight, mob guy?”

“I’m so glad you asked. You see, we have options.”

“Let’s hear them.”

“Door Number One,” Joe began. “It’s been a long day, and you’re exhausted from the illustrious honor of witnessing a Cubs victory firsthand. So we go back to the hotel, find some shark documentary on tv, order room service, shower, and drift off into a peaceful slumber. Just like last night.”

“Not bad. How about Door Number Two?”

“Door Number Two. You’re tired, but not that tired. We go back to the hotel, find that same aforementioned shark documentary, but totally ignore it and make out instead. Maybe we even round second base, in the spirit of the Cubs. Whatever you’re up for. Then we shower and drift off into a peaceful slumber.”

“Even better,” I said, and I meant it. “And what’s Door Number Three?”

Now Joe became jittery; his eyes darted to the fountain, the church, the cars that rolled lazily by. He was so desperate to conceal his hope, to not impose any undue influence upon me. I felt infinitesimal, almost weightless drops of rain against my cheeks, my collarbones, the downy undersides of my arms. “Well, uh, Door Number Three is...it’s...well...uh...it’s...”

Door Number Three is a home fucking run. “I want Door Number Three.”

“Really? Because you don’t have to say that, you can say no, that’s completely fine, it’s more than fine actually, it’s awesome, it’s totally cool, I’m seriously fine either way, and you can obviously change your mind whenever—”

“Wait.” I broke away from him, yanked my own wallet out of my purse, found the Official Whatever You Want Pass, hastily unfolded it, and presented it to Joe. “I want Door Number Three.”

He barked out a shocked laugh, accepted the pass, studied it in disbelief. “You are full of surprises, ma’am. It took me a hundred years to find a woman like you. And I don’t think I ever will again. Makes one wonder if this whole eternity thing is all it’s cracked up to be.” He tucked the pass into his pocket and kissed me beneath the streetlights, beneath the stars. “So there’s one tiny caveat to my wish-granting superpower.”

“Yeah?”

He smiled impishly, nudging the tip of my nose with his. “You have to tell me what you wished for.” He was joking, as he almost always was; I didn’t have to tell him anything. He wouldn’t press the issue. I doubted that he was really expecting me to answer at all. And yet I wanted to tell Joe; I yearned, for once, to be as clear as Lucy had said he was.

“For you and me,” I replied in little more than a whisper. “And for forever.”

Home

The only thing that startled me was how profoundly unstartling it all was, how wholly uncomplicated, how effortless.

I didn’t feel like a different person afterwards. I didn’t feel that some latent spark of lust, of carnality had been ignited, had singed through me, had left me forever marked like the heights of children ticked off on a doorframe over decades; I felt neither ruined nor awakened, no wiser, no older, no more enlightened as to the incalculable eccentricities of the vast and enigmatic universe. I felt only happiness, and exhausted satisfaction, and a deep, dreamless peace that engulfed me like frothy fingertips of waves dragging pebbles and shells back into the sea. I felt only a homecoming that was measured not in miles but in soul.

We slept in as the morning sun rose over Lake Michigan, bought Ben a hoodie (black, of course, per his usual aesthetic) from the University of Chicago gift shop, strolled unhurriedly through the dimly-lit, relentlessly blue pathways of the Shedd Aquarium. As I stood in the glass tunnel and watched sawfish and blacktip reef sharks soar by overhead, Joe linked his arms around my waist, tucked his chin into the dip of my collarbone, kissed the slope of my jaw.

“What do you think?” he asked, perhaps a touch apprehensively. “Could you get used to the Chicago life for a few years?”

“I would be tempted to kidnap some of these guys and bring them home to live in our bathtub. But yes.”

And Joe murmured, smiling, his lips to my temple: “That’s illegal, ma’am.”

Our flight back to the West Coast took off after dusk, and there was no blinding sunlight for Joe to avoid; only immense glooms of clouds and gleaming distant stars and the unfathomable void of space, cursed with crushing pressure and darkness like the cervices of the ocean floor.

Fifteen years might not be enough, I thought, resting my forehead against the cold airplane window as the city lights died behind us, as Joe’s hand weaved through mine on the armrest. But forever sounds just about right.

Larkin

There once was a boy born in a stone cottage with a dirt floor in a vanishingly inconsequential village just west of Clifden, Ireland. It was February 9th, 1672, bitterly cold, miserably wet, and the sea was murderous with storms. His mother was illiterate, as her mother had been, and as her mother had been as well, all the way back to people who painted mammoths on cave walls with their fingers; she was thirty-three and already exhausted with living, her seven children forever underfoot, her full and ruddy cheeks perpetually smudged with dirt from the field and ashes from the fire. Her husband was a failure and a drunk, but half a day’s worth of work once or twice a week was better than none at all; and as much as she never would have admitted it, he was a tether for her in a world that was often, as she had learned, both lonely and cruel.

She gave the baby boy a name—a strong Irish name, none of that audacious English rubbish—that meant rough or fierce, just like the sea that rose and ruptured against the rocky cliffs outside. He would need to be rough to survive in this world. He would need to be fierce.

He began like all the other children had been: sweet and yet anonymous, yielding, needful, worryingly small. She rocked him absently with one arm as she stirred the stew pot with the other. She sang to him, told him stories long before he could comprehend them, tales of the Lord and the saints and all their malevolent adversaries: serpents, pestilence, demons, dragons. She tossed stray sticks to him so he could carve pictures into the dirt floor and keep out of the way as she labored with the laundry or the sewing. And he grew, and he grew; and there was nothing remarkable about him at all, that boy speckled with mud and soot and the perpetual bruises of children mostly left to their own devices, that boy with pallid skin like his mother’s and black hair like his father’s and eyes so light and vibrant a brown they were nearly gold.

The boy was a baby, and then a child, and then a young man. And his mother realized one day—all at once, as a mother does when their attention is divided among so many other lives, when the children’s analogous faces bleed into each other and even their names sometimes escape her, even those names that she had chosen herself from the stories her own mother once passed to her through threadbare whispers—that people had a habit of following him, of listening to him. That there was an ether of allure that hovered around him like the mists that clung to the precarious, crumbling cliffs that touched the sea; that there was something like what the heathens called magic. And when the war came, that boy who was no longer a boy left his mother’s stone cottage and enlisted in Clifden, lied about his age, signed his name with an X because that was all he knew how to spell. But he was sure to tell the man who handled the ledger that he did have a real name, a good Irish name, a name apt for a soldier, a name that his mother had told him meant rough or fierce: Larkin.

There are men who join wars out of loyalty, principle, love for their homes; and then there are men who join to escape their homes, perhaps to forget them entirely. If you were to consult that ledger signed in a pub in Clifden, Ireland in 1688, you would read that I fought for Ireland, for the Catholics, for Christ the Lord and all his saints. But what I really fought for was my own resurrection: to take that boy stained with dirt and ignorance, drown him in the blood of other mothers’ trivial sons, and dredge up some greater version of myself that I had always known existed, that was hidden somewhere in the netlike darkness of the marrow of my bones.

People follow me, and they always have. I couldn’t tell you why. When I called them to enlist, when I thrusted swords and pikes into their calloused farmers’ fists, when I told them they could fight and live to see their wretched homes again, they believed me. I climbed the ranks like a ladder, like a mountain made of bones. And all those other mothers’ sons laid down for me so I could walk across the bridge of their spines to what I mistakenly assumed was invincibility.

At the Battle Of The Boyne, my horse was shot out from under me. A Williamite caught me beneath the ribs with his dagger. And as I bled out, staring up at the sky and impatiently waiting for the pain to vanish as my consciousness withdrew like low tide, I became aware that someone was lifting me, holding me, spiriting me through the battlefield and then the wilderness; and that my pain, in a disconcerting turn of events, had swelled to a vicious and unrelenting inferno.  

Three days later, I woke to find that I was resurrected again, this time as something more than human. The man who turned me was blond-haired, light-eyed, agile and yet gentle, ancient and yet ever-changing.

“I thought you’d survive,” Nikolai said in a thick Slavic accent, standing over me with a kind smile. Then he helped me to my feet. “You have greatness in you. It sweats out of your pores, it’s in every word you speak. What a shame it would be for all of that to go to waste.”

He taught me everything: how to read and write, how to hunt, how to dodge the sunlight, how to survive an existence that was both theoretically endless and yet forever on the precipice of being cut short. He introduced me to the Draghi, to vampires who were remarkable for their ferocity, or their creativity, or their curiosity, or their cleverness, or all those things at once: Victorien, Honora, Elizabeth, Kestrel, Zhang, Sergei, Ana, Gwilym. And most crucially, Nikolai showed me that my human talents were magnified several times over, that his own followers were not immune to them, that there was power in collecting exceptional individuals like pieces of china stacked in a locked cabinet; and that if I could learn to climb immortal bones, the ladder never needed to end.  

You never quite get used to the power, to the invincibility, to the promise of eternity. You never take it for granted. It hits you, again and again, in ceaseless and victorious waves. Once I was a barefoot toddler who sketched dragons and Catholic saints from the stories my mother told me into the dirt floor of our drafty stone cottage. Now I live in palaces with marble floors, with spiral staircases and libraries and gold-dripping ballrooms, with unobstructed views of any sea I choose. Now I am the dragon.

My phone rang, and I checked the name on the screen. Then I answered. “Hello, beauty. How’s the other side of the Pacific treating you?”

And Liesl answered, in a soft and astonished voice: “I don’t think Lucy can read her. I don’t think any of them can.”

I could feel it again. Another wave, crashing through me like the ocean, like the unstoppable rolling of time: power and insatiability and exhilaration. I smiled in my twilight-lit study as long-dead stars rose outside and the wind howled like wolves over the East Sea. “You know what to do.”

[risingsouls]

Recruited: Chapter 18

[Hey, this one actually has a little more meat to it! Anyway, here’s some emotional shit for you. I was actually going to make this go through the fight with Ginyu at the ship, but since Nabs likely won’t be super involved in that, it didn’t quite feel like the natural place to end the chapter the more I wrote. 

Bonus note: while I was editing, “Man, I Feel Like a Woman” by Shania Twain came on Spot.ify while she was *SPOILERS* doing some killing and it was honestly hilarious. 

ANYWAY, as usual, you can find the rest here!]

Nabooru

Nabooru regained consciousness slumped against the same wall Vegeta blasted her into, the back of her head pounding from the impact. She shoved another soldier's corpse from her lap and regained her feet, senses immediately reaching out for first Vegeta's familiar ki. She located the prince's energy. In motion and rapidly zipping across the planet. Frieza's overwhelming ki remained near the ship along with what remained of his forces. Zarbon's was nowhere to be found.

She sensed the approach of the five menacing power levels before she located Frieza awaiting the arrival of the Ginyu Force outside the ship. He did little more than comment that he was surprised she survived Vegeta's attack, confirming that Zarbon had not been so lucky. The pods crashed into the planet's surface not far from them, interrupting any chance for further conversation. Fortunate for her, perhaps; though she survived, she failed to stop Vegeta. A success for her but a failure in Frieza's eyes that could have earned her the most brutal of punishments.

The five members of one of the Cold Empire's most prestigious forces could not have been more diverse. Or odd with their penchant for flair and over the top poses which they showed off in way of introduction and greeting. She recognized the captain from his image on the screen during his meeting with Frieza. The tallest member of the team--Burter--resembled a blue, bipedal snake. Recoome had Nappa's tall, muscular build but kept his untidy crop of ginger hair unlike the bald Saiyan. The smallest member of the team, Guldo, was short and squatty with an extra pair of eyes. Jeice stood as tall as Vegeta, perhaps, and sported long, snow white hair. He delivered the case holding the requested scouters to Frieza. Though unneeded, she took the scouter offered to her and fit it to her face.

She suspected impatience and secondhand embarrassment urged Frieza to send the team off with orders to retrieve the dragonballs and bring Vegeta back to him alive. The tyrant filled their wait time--short, too short--with idle conversation about what he planned to do first with his immortality, and she nodded along while monitoring the meeting across planet at his request. She reported that the Ginyu Force found Vegeta, and that the scouter picked up two other readings with him. Likely the same pair they encountered at the last village they conquered. Within minutes, Ginyu parted from the rest of the group and headed back in their direction. Alone. Vegeta wouldn't go with him willingly, that was obvious. But her stomach churned with the possibilities of why Ginyu would leave Vegeta with his team instead of remaining to force him to comply.

When he arrived, he confirmed her most dire suspicion: all seven dragonballs drifted from him to rest at Frieza's feet. The emperor's glee was palpable and she was surprised he found even the split second it took to end Ginyu's "Dance of Joy" prematurely. Her mind raced with courses of action. Grab a dragonball and throw it. Break it. Try to run Frieza through with a ki sword or decapitate him before he could make his wish and deal with Ginyu's retaliation after. Think up some distraction from the ludicrous request of asking Ginyu to finish his dance to destroying the ship. Escape.

Frieza raised his voice and demanded immortality to the heavens and she found herself inert and unable to act on any of it. Several agonizing seconds passed by with none in the vicinity daring to make a sound. Watching. Waiting. And in Nabooru's case, trying to keep from vomiting on the orange spheres. Ginyu finally broke the silence, voicing what they all were thinking: had it worked? Was Frieza immortal and, therefore, unstoppable as the undisputed ruler of the universe? It was all she could do not to suggest he allow her to help him test it, but Frieza decided on his own it hadn't and deigned to personally track down whatever remained of the Namekians to request instructions on how to activate the balls, leaving her alone with Captain Ginyu and the rest of the soldiers.

She wanted to find amusement in Ginyu forcing the remaining soldiers to bury the dragonballs--the location of which she took keen note of-- and the following try out session the captain forced them to endure to fill the unexpected opening at Guldo's swift defeat (which she only reasoned her way out of with the excuse that Freiza likely wouldn't be pleased if he tried to recruit his last general without his permission), one they both witnessed via their scouters. Her continued monitoring of the battle between Vegeta, the two strangers, and the three remaining members of the Ginyu Force kept her from enjoying the show as Guldo would be the only success for Vegeta: within minutes, his and the strangers' ki signatures hovered dangerously close to zero. Lips parted to relay the information to Ginyu, who was berating the lackluster posing skills he witnessed, only to stop short when another power level appeared. A significant one. With all the members of the Ginyu Force accounted for and Frieza on the other side of the planet, she could only guess that some powerful Namekian warrior had just now decided to jump into the fray. But doubt circulated such a theory: with how proud and courageous the rest had been, why would this one wait so long?

One, two power levels lowered. The third raced back in their direction. All those of the remaining Ginyu Force members. The downed ki signatures were then reduced to nothing, but she was pulled from her confusion, the ever-raging battle between hope and anxiety especially with a new contender she could not identify as friend or foe placed on hold, by a panicked, battered Jeice rejoining them.

"Captain!" The warrior sounded as though he might burst into tears at any moment. "Captain, you've got to come quick! This guy, this Saiyan, just showed up outta nowhere and trounced Recoome and Burter like they were nothing!"

Another Saiyan? Jeice would know Nappa by name, likely, and this power level far exceeded what Nappa could have managed in the short amount of time since she lost track of him. The only other Saiyan she knew of was Raditz's brother. Had he come to Namek? Did that mean the other two who saved the Namekian child were in fact Earthlings? Why would they come all this way?

"A Saiyan? You don't mean Vegeta? He's no match for Recoome or Burter, and the rest of the Saiyans are dead." Ginyu waved a hand, allowing those he hadn't sent into orbit over a sloppy turn or weak arm extension. "At ease, men."

Jeice shook his head. "No, Recoome dealt with Vegeta like he was nothing. But this other guy showed up before we could finish the job with the kid, baldy, and Vegeta and took Recoome out with one blow!"

"What?! That's impossible! No Saiyan could stand up to Recoome and Burter! Let alone so swiftly!" When Jeice failed to rescind his report as a joke, Ginyu growled. "Well, we can't just let him get away with such an egregious affront to the esteemed Ginyu Force!"

He turned to Nabooru. "Keep guard of the balls, and if Lord Frieza returns before I do, tell him the captain went to take care of business."

"What else would I do?" Her question went unanswered and likely unheard as the pair shot off into the sky, back toward the battlefield Jeice left behind.

Her gaze drifted from the relieved soldiers to the tamped down dirt covering all seven dragonballs. With no more idea of how to work them than Frieza, digging them up and making a wish herself wouldn't do her any good. She once more considered the idea of hiding one to continue to hinder at least Frieza once he returned. At this point, destroying them entirely felt like the best move. The endeavor had been exhausting and more trouble than they were worth for Frieza in her opinion. Who could possibly threaten him? No one held a candle to his power and he knew that. Unless he truly worried about Vegeta gaining immortality himself, the continued quest for immortality in the face of each upset only proved how deep his paranoia went. If any other endeavor had proven this troublesome, Frieza likely would have abandoned it, either as a lost cause or place some other retinue of soldiers on completing it. The fact that he stuck around this long meant he feared losing everything no matter how powerful he was.<

Laughter caught her attention. One of the soldiers entertained the others with a series of lewd poses he suggested they show Ginyu when he returned. No matter her decision, she didn't dare risk an opportunity for witnesses to relay her betrayal to Frieza and bring him back to the ship before she could make her move to hinder his wish.

She grasped her scouter and removed it, fingers curling around the device to crush it. The crunch of plastic and static turned the men's attention to her. One folded his arms and clicked his tongue. "Why'd you do that? We just got these scouters and you go and break yours? Do you like being blind or something?"

Orange-yellow energy swirled in each of her palms, further heightening the soldiers' confusion, glances exchanged between each of them. "Has this boring planet made you lose--"

Nabooru extended her arms and fired a wave of ki, overwhelming the squadron for a clean kill. Save for the one that had enough foresight to spring into the air to avoid the blast, arms crossed and shielding his face from the flash of light and debris.

"You really have lost your damn mind!" Panic struck her as his hand twitched upward toward his face, his scouter. Nabooru cursed under her breath and shot upward. She grasped his wrist halfway to the device in a crushing vice grip. The soldier yelped in agony in lieu of protest when her free hand tore his scouter away and destroyed it. She pressed her hand to the middle of his armor, power coursing through her body once more to center in the palm of her hand.

"Please, I beg you. I won't tell Fr--"

She didn't wait for him to finish his warbling. The blast swallowed him as it had his comrades, leaving no more trace of him behind than dust carried off by the planet's pleasant breeze.

"So, you did survive my blast. I thought I sensed your pathetic power level, but it’s difficult to say among the rest of the mediocrity here..."

Her body went rigid and she whirled around, senses and gaze locking onto the unexpected presence. Vegeta stared up at her from the ground, hands on his hips and a wicked smirk on his face. His armor and battle suit had taken further damage in his bout with Recoome, but outside of stray blood and dirt staining his flesh, he seemed to shrug off the shame of being so thoroughly trounced as Jeice suggested.

Nabooru drifted back to the ground but maintained her wits and guard. Vegeta remained a potential adversary to her despite their shared goal. "I was hoping for a little peace and quiet," she answered, brushing a stray strand of hair out of her face. "And then you showed up."

"Too bad for you," he responded gruffly but not without humor. "Where are the dragonballs?"

Nabooru nodded toward their location. "Over there. Buried." He glanced in the direction she indicated, and she added, "Frieza tried to make his wish but they didn't work. He sought out the last few Namekians to find out how to make his wish."

A growl rumbled from the prince. "Figures. Kakarot and his cronies were right, then." He stalked toward the ship and indicated she follow with an impatient wave of his hand and a glare shot over his shoulder. "Let's go. Consider yourself my prisoner now because you won't be leaving my sight. Got that? Try anything stupid and I will kill you."

Nabooru pursed her lips, nose scrunched in distaste, but followed him back aboard the ship. "You want to track down a collar leash to make sure I don't go anywhere, too?"

"Don't tempt me." 

They trekked through the ship's hall, dodging debris and stepping over corpses of the unlucky retinue Frieza brought with him. They ducked into the crew locker room and storage area, one of the few places on the ship that seemed to have escaped the havoc wreaked upon it since arriving on Namek. Nabooru followed Vegeta's order to lock it behind them, a seemingly unnecessary precaution when everyone outside of Freiza and the Ginyu Force had perished, and from what she could sense, were still engaged in their own affairs.

"Where's your scouter?"

Nabooru turned from the pin pad near the door to face him. "I destroyed it. Before you showed up, I had planned to dig up the dragonballs and hide at least one to keep Frieza from getting his wish. I didn't want the communicator to pick anything up."

"Hmpt…" He pulled the damaged armor over his head, tearing his gloves off with his teeth and kicking off his boots. "That makes you useless in keeping a watch out for Frieza. You could have been in the middle of that little scheme of yours and gotten caught."

"Don't insult me. I'm not an idiot." Nabooru flipped her ponytail and crossed the room to her storage locker. She pulled off her glove and rested her palm against the scanner. With her own battle suit tattered from Vegeta's attack, she decided the current lull was as good a time as any to swap it out for the spare set she brought with her. "I taught myself how to sense energy. I heard you and Nappa talking about how the Earthlings could do it without a scouter, so I decided to figure it out. I wanted any edge here I could get."

Vegeta didn't reply and instead headed toward the back of the room for the showers, peeling off his battle suit as he went. He switched the water on and stepped in. "Good. Keep watch then."

She rolled her eyes and mock saluted him, yanking the tie from her hair and removing first her armor then her battle suit. She was halfway through pulling the fresh top back on when she slowed. "Vegeta, where's your tail?"

He glowered icily from behind the glass door, and she imagined the usual lash of his tail that would accompany a killer glare like that one. "The Earthlings cut it off."

"Oh…" Nabooru slid her armor back over her head and seated herself on one of the benches. She lifted her leg and pulled her burnt red stockings over her feet and up her legs. "You mentioned Kakarot earlier. That was the name of Raditz's brother, wasn't it? He's here? That other power level that showed up a bit later to your fight with Recoome?"

Vegeta grunted, seemingly more focused on scrubbing his face than listening to her. Still, she continued, keen on taking advantage of what would likely be her one chance to shed light on all the confusion surrounding the last few months and fill in the gaps in her knowledge. "So those other two that were here...they're Earthlings, then? Why would they come here though?"

"The same reason you and I are here: the dragonballs." He finished scrubbing the dirt, blood, and grime from his body and kicked the door open. Dripping wet, he stalked to the general storage cabinets, leaving puddles in his wake. "If they listen to Kakarot, they'll be heading this way with their radar and hopefully whatever password they need to summon the dragon."

She almost asked why they wanted them, but assumed Vegeta wouldn't have cared enough to ask. "You don't seem worried about that." She slipped her feet into her boots and replaced her gloves. "Are you going to let them summon this dragon and then steal the wish from under them?"

"Precisely. So long as Ginyu keeps Kakarot busy, it will be no problem."

Nabooru hummed, intrigued by the order in which he named the two men currently engaged in battle from what she could detect. "What Jeice said is true then. Ginyu didn't want to believe a Saiyan defeated Recoome and Burter. Kakarot must be an impressive warrior, then, to first cause you guys and then the Ginyu Force so much trouble."

"Tch, whatever." Nabooru glanced back at the Saiyan, slight amusement dancing in her golden eyes as he angrily jerked a new battle suit of a dark gray hue on. "I'm stronger now, too, so if Kakarot decides to be a problem, I'll kill him."

She hummed, aware that his claims of gaining more power were in fact true after the beating he took from Recoome. Another boost in his strength to further increase the ever growing gap in their power. Annoyed as she was by it, she had one last question she needed answered before either of them could be distracted again. She chewed her lower lip, twisting the hair tie between her gloved fingers.

"What happened to Nappa? Did Kakarot kill him?"

He snorted. "No. He should have, though."

Though his words should have relieved her, for it suggested the chance he still lived, dread twisted her stomach into knots. "Where is he, then? All intel I received suggested he never left Earth."

"That's because he didn't." Vegeta finished pulling his gloves on. "I killed Nappa."

Nabooru was on her feet before she could stop herself, her anguish transforming to rage at the confession. "You what?!" Leather creaked as her hands balled into fists, and Vegeta's continued unbothered demeanor only heightened her anger. "Vegeta, how could you?! Nappa was nothing but loyal to you! Basically raised you! Not to mention one of the very last--"

"Don't patronize me, woman."  He turned to face her fully, dark eyes voids of nothingness. He spoke with the authority of a parent chiding a child that couldn’t know better: “I don’t have to explain anything to you, but killing Nappa was a mercy. As a warrior, one he would have preferred to than being unable to continue to fight. Then or potentially ever again. He was useless to me and himself.”

Her emotional response far outweighed reason, any understanding she found in his words based in her personal and cultural understanding of herself as a warrior or what she had gleaned of the Saiyans. “That’s a leever dung excuse and you know it! You could have easily gotten him back to his pod and sent to the nearest base! You just…” Alarm bells rang in her ears but rage silenced the warnings to stop while she was ahead. Before she said something she didn’t mean and knew was far more complicated than a black and white right or wrong. “You wanted to kill him! You wanted to because you’re a monster! You’re a monster just like Frieza who--”

Her back slammed into the far wall before she saw the attack coming, before her senses caught the quick uptick of his energy as a warning. Vegeta yanked her down to his level by her armor, and his other hand clutched her neck with just enough force to restrict her breathing and bruise.

Rage once more burned in his onyx eyes, a sight somehow less concerning to her than the emptiness she witnessed there not moments before. She met it with her usual defiance, stubborn scowl fighting to keep the natural pain and panic from her features that came with being forced into such a vulnerable, compromised position.

“How dare you,” he seethed. Fingers tightened on her airway, and she bit back a pained squeak. “How dare you compare me to him. I should kill you right now. You’ve given me the information I need, and I’ve more than humored your shit long enough. You’re a weakling, and you’ve more than outlived your usefulness to me.”

She grabbed his wrist, this time unable to hold back her gasp for air or avoid fighting back through the instinctual need to live. Her mind clouded from the lack of oxygen and her lungs burned. Then, the tightness around her neck subsided. She sucked in a heaving breath and just barely managed stretched her arms outward in time to catch herself and keep her face from slamming into the tile floor. She rubbed her neck and refilled her lungs.

“Pathetic…”

Her fingers curled into her palms. Pathetic. A weakling. A whore and a traitor. She could almost feel the blade of ki in her hand, visualized it piercing through his armor, his chest, out his back. His blood dripping from the wound as she forcefully reminded him how powerful she was. What it meant to cross a Gerudo warrior, even one that had a higher tendency toward mercy than many others, scorned and pushed too far. But she knew she couldn’t take him. She knew he was right that he far outmatched her, would stop her attack before it started. And though she wanted to fight him anyway, to engage him in what would likely be a final, infuriated assault, she remembered what was at stake. Home. Her people and seeing them again. Returning to the life she dreamed of night after night and so desperately wanted back. The one ripped from her to serve and do the horrific bidding of a tyrant. Even if the chances of dying far outweighed those of actually making it home with two people ready to off her, if their odds of defeating Frieza depended on everything working out perfectly in their favor without a single hiccup, proving herself to a man who would never see her worth again, who had written her off as the worst sort the moment Frieza promoted her, felt insignificant.

Jaw tight, she pushed herself back up to her feet and refused to meet his gaze. The tension within the enclosed room threatened to suffocate her faster than his hand at her throat, but she refused to break it. To speak to him. She had nothing to say between her anger and grief. No matter how her mind whispered she should swallow her pride and apologize to some degree for comparing him to Frieza, she refused to entertain the idea. Her conscience would cease to matter when she was murdered or finally, finally, made it back to her home.

Any inner turmoil she battled was forgotten when a pair of ki signatures approaching and landing outside of the ship alerted her and, if his glance toward the side meant anything, Vegeta. “Finally.” He strode to the door and opened it. “Let’s go. Keep your mouth shut and stay close to me. Once the dragon is summoned, we’ll ambush them. Got it?”

He didn’t wait for her reply and disappeared into the hall again, the tap of his boots on the tile quickened with his revived urgency. Nabooru bent to retrieve the dropped hair band and pushed her hair back into her usual high ponytail, twisting the elastic around her thick, crimson locks. With the fleeting consideration to steal the wish for herself, use it to teleport her back to her homeworld, she followed Vegeta out of the ship. Though she had little faith the prince would keep his word to her when this was all over, she would keep hers. Her desire to do it for him and the justice he deserved waned, but freeing herself from Freiza meant freeing her people from him. Thus, no matter how tempting, sabotage was out of the question.

She would continue to aid Vegeta for now. Until he made his wish and killed Frieza. Until she could escape Namek and return home.

[a-forgotten-spirit]

Love Isn’t An Illusion (4)

Pairing: Todoroki x Bakugou, Todoroki x Reader x Bakugou, VERY SLOW BUILD

Summary: Training with the class, dealing with Mineta, waiting for parents and then studying with the class. 

Words: +-6500

Warnings: bad parents, the video about saving Stain, training, using reader quirk during training, Mineta, changing rooms, tight clothing for hero costume, making an illusion in the boys changing room to yell at Mineta, talking to Todoroki, crying, sad, fighting with parents, slight breakdown, excessive/destructive studying, being yelled at by parents, anxiety, depression, not sleeping.

Tagged:  @kittycatspervertedheart​ @lemorrite​ @gwendlynn​ @marleps​ @thicctati2​ @saitamastamaticsoup​ @succulent-momma​ @aurorahoneybuns​ @imjusttireddudes​ @misconceptualised​ @ochabby​ @katsukisuwus​ @gayverlinq​ @star-witchs-blog​ @fallbb123 

A/N:  I wrote this for the fans. I do not own My Hero academia or the characters, I don’t own most of the plot for this story, I had watched the show and re-written the dialogue and plot as if the reader was the main character. Everything is centred around the reader. Please comment, makes me happy. Ask if you wish to be tagged. 

Masterlist

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3

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Chapter 4

The week was over, though I hadn’t slept in days. Stain and I’s conversation running through my head like a mantra, I heard some of my other classmates had helped in areas around the city, I was happy for them. I didn’t want to go back to school, not while I was like this, coming home was nothing major. My parents ignored me still caught up about how I hadn’t gone to those interviews, not that I cared for what they thought anymore. I know I wasn’t meant to use my quirk without permission in school or out of school for that matter but as I walked through the school I made it seem like I wasn’t there. I didn’t want to talk to anyone. I had gotten messages and a few calls from Deku but not right now. 

Coming into the room I sat down making sure to not bump into anyone and listening to everyone's conversations. Both Sero and Kirishima were laughing at Bakugou, from what I had heard he was interning at ‘Best Jeaniest’s’ agency number four hero was extremely impressive. They were laughing at his hair, slicked down and neat, not the usual explosive hair he had. I thought it was cute but I did much prefer the raging hair, it suited him far more than this. 

“Stop laughing, my hair has gotten used to this and I can’t get it back the right way. Did you not hear me, I’ll kill you both” he was shaking as the words grit out of his mouth, I couldn’t imagine just how much product was in his hair right now. His hand was open and ready for one step too far from the boys and I was sure he would kill them. 

“I’d like to see you try pretty boy” Sero laughed out, mouth open wide and eyes bulging from his head. It was nice to know Bakugou did have friends, he may be very high and mighty but I couldn't imagine other people in the class saying those things and getting away with it. 

“What did you call me” and just like that his hair was back and spiky as usual. I liked his spiking hair, going in every single direction and not caring for looks. Even though he suited the style. My hand came to lightly play with my hair H/C locks smooth and silky to the touch. I don’t think I could pull off that hair but it was nice to look at, I wonder what it felt like. He seemed to take immense care of himself so I didn’t doubt his hair would be skipped. 

“Awesome, you got to face actual villains. I’m super jealous” my eyes moved from the still laughing duo and an angry screaming Bakugou to Mina. She was smiling and looking at Jirou, she helped those people in the hostage situation I had heard.

“Well, I didn’t fight. All I did was help people evacuate” I was going to speak up but my voice was caught. She shouldn’t belittle her internship, it was a lot to even do that. When you’re in such a situation, you do what you have too even if it is only escorting people to safety. “And provide logistical support” it was still more than some, she should be proud. Her voice was quiet and she was playing with her earphone jack, twirling it around her finger. 

“Still sounds like so much fun” Mina was leaning over the table as she called this fact out. She was always so happy and upbeat. I wondered what that felt like, to be so excited for like and things. Sure I was excited to be a hero but with that conversation still running through my mind, it was still a lot to take on. 

“I spent the whole time training and cleaning the ship deck,” Tsu thought out loud, her finger placed against her chin as the two other girls listened in. “Oh there was this one day we caught a bunch of drug smugglers,” she said it so calmly that I almost laughed. The two girls seemed to freeze, mouths open and shocked looks. “What about you Ochako, how was your week” when I turned to see Uraraka tense and looking ready to fight I too stopped in my tracks. 

“I’d say it was very enlightening” her voice was so cold and I swear to whoever could hear me she had this menacing purple glow around her. She was in a fighting stance then began to punch the air. She must’ve had a very good week if she was so in the zone on a Monday morning. 

“I think she found her fighting spirit” Tsu croaked out. I couldn’t agree more, she looked so ready and I wished I could have seen her train. Maybe joined in, not to say my training wasn’t enough. It was more than enough, Snipe and I bonded and got to know each other. I hoped he would still like me later on down the track for more internships. 

“Yeah, that battle hero must have been something else” I had to agree with that statement. He seemed nice enough even though Gunhead was a big guy and the name suggested a powerhouse. I had spoken to him and he seemed kind and compassionate, just what Uraraka needed. 

“After one week she’s like a totally different person” Kaminari pointed put hands out on the table and looking to be leaning away from where the girl was punching the air, the aura still moving around her. She wasn’t different, just more focused I thought. 

“Different. Don’t be fooled Kaminari” Mineta waved his finger back and forth in front of them but then, his eyes widened and he licked his lips a scowl coming to face “All women are demons at heart they just hide their true personalities behind pretty faces” he whispered out. His teeth were chattering and he was shaking?

“What did Mount Lady do to you” Kaminari questioned, gripping the smaller boys arms in a firm grip bringing him back to reality “Everyone at my internship loved me. It was kinda great” I enjoyed my internship even with all the inconveniences and the little mishap partway through the week. “Now if you wanna talk about the ones who changed was those three” Kaminari pointed to Iida, Midoriya and Todoroki conversing at the back of the room “and Y/N” 

“Oh yeah the Hero Killer, did you guys see the video that kept getting taken down. Y/N saved him” Sero pointed out, Bakugou having a tight grip on the boys collar his other hand occupied with Kirishima. 

“I’m glad you guys and Y/N made it back alive. Seriously” Kirishima sighed out, he looked so calm even though Bakugou had him by the collar though he didn’t seem to be short of breath so he wasn’t choking him which was good. 

“I worried for you too” the soft voice of Yaoyorozu spoke out, everyone moved to the back of the classroom and I was nervous someone would bump into me at my desk, no one did. 

“It was a good thing Endeavor showed up and saved you guys. Y/N too, her quirk is super powerful. I saw that she stood between Midoriya and the Hero Killer” Sato's voice seemed to be deep but also light in a way. Strange but I liked it, it was calming. 

“So cool” Toru wiggled around, her clothes moved as she moved her hands. Her voice sounded like she was interested and seemingly up to date on the topic. It was hard to gauge an emotion or expression with no face to look at. “Just what I’d expect from the number two hero” even though he had done nothing and it was all a cover-up, not that they could hear me. 

Todoroki’s eyes fell just as his head did “Yeah, that’s right” he wasn’t very good at lying, he looked uncomfortable and on edge. He had to learn how to lie properly, no one batted an eye but I could see the truth. My heart fluttered knowing I could see the difference. “He saved us” no he didn’t but, just something they had to let go. I got videoed and we couldn’t lie about that. Plus that mysterious video someone taped and posted. 

“Did you guys hear the news about the Hero Killer” my ears perked and my eyes left the dual coloured ones of Todoroki and turned to Ojiro instantly. What was he talking about, what news? Had he broken out? “Everyone has been saying he’s somehow connected to the league of villains” I froze, he couldn’t be right? He seemed far to prideful to work with them. He was on a mission, he went on about ridding the world of fake heroes, he wouldn’t associate with them but then again the Nomu were there at the same time. “Can you imagine how frightening it would have been if that creep was there when they attacked the USJ” I didn’t want to think about it if I was honest. I didn’t like thinking about that day. Though he only went after heroes, I don’t think he would have done much damage to us more so the teachers. 

“He’s scary, yeah but, did you see him in that weird video” again the video was brought up. I hated that video, it showed me helping him. My ear to his chest and then as I tried to help him. I had watched it so many times, every time it came up I watched it at least five times. Not that the real thing wasn’t constantly playing on a loop in my head. “It’s all over the internet. Stains’ a pretty evil villain but super tenacious, he’s almost kinda cool don’t you guys think” Kaminari pointed out. No, no I didn’t think that at all. He was crazy, totally and utterly bonkers. Mnirodriya called his name and it seemed to snap him back “Oh dude” his mouth was covered as he looked to Iida. 

“No, it’s fine. He is quite a tenacious villain. I understand why people might think he was cool but, instead of helping the world his views lead him to cold-blooded murder. No matter his motive killing cannot be condoned” Iida was right, it doesn’t matter your views or thoughts on anything you can’t kill people and everything will be fine. That’s not how the world works nor should it would like that at all. “To keep anyone else from suffering like me. Well” his arm was up straight and his voice rose to shout the next words “I promise, I will strive to be the perfect hero” I was glad he was getting back to his normal self again. He looked up to his brother so much, so many people did. 

“Speaking of recent events. Where’s Y/N she’s usually here before most people” Kaminari voiced and then looked around as did everyone. I sighed and let the illusion fall, all eyes turned to me instantly. “Wait have you been there the whole time” he shouted. 

“Sorry” I whispered and looked down scratching the back of my head, “Said recent events were quite a lot and it’s taken some time to” I paused and moved my hands around “Accept them” I saw a few nods. 

“You were in the middle of the city fight, weren’t you. I saw the videos of you taking down the Nomus’” Jirou turned and smiled. I nodded slowly and then came the yelling. Mina hadn’t seen the videos and was yelling that she was quite jealous of my activities. 

“Yeah, I was Snipe’s sidekick for a week. I told all the heroes that wanted me. I wanted to be treated like a hero not a tool for a week” again more yelling and questioning. Most said they thought I was kidding when I left the first time. I couldn’t blame them. “I trained and went on patrol. Even keeping a villain alive, it was a long week” I closed my eyes and smiled. No one other than the three boys at the back of the room knew I had, had a personal conversation with the said villain. I wanted to keep it that way. 

“Well now everyone. Class is about to begin” Iida shouted and I mouthed a thank you, I was met with a firm nod. I didn’t want to talk about it, it was quite a lot to deal with especially alone. I would manage. Everyone made their way to their respected seats quickly still quietly chatting away. Though Iida continued to shout. 

We were asked to change into our hero costumes and I was so excited. Sure some had seen it but I loved the new look. The iridescent colours and smoke looking mask. I loved it all. All Might was teaching us today and I smiled walking out of the changing room. I got a few looks and I walked down to the training area, my hips swaying and a smile on my face. 

“I am here” All Might shout loud and clear for everyone to hear, his hands on his hips. I hoped that one day I could shout something like that and everyone wouldn’t be scared. Everyone would know I was there to help. “I hope you are ready to return to lessons. Today it’s hero basic training, it feels like I haven’t seen you in a while” he wasn’t wrong it had been quite some time. A week at least though I had spoken to him once when I was dropping off something at the end of my internship. “Welcome back. Now listen carefully to what’s in store, we are going to be conducting a little race. Taking everything you’ve learned from your internships and applying it to this rescue training” he explained. Rescue training I admit was important but I didn’t like it at all. I wasn’t good with words and people annoyed me quite a bit but it was part of being a hero. 

“If it’s rescue training shouldn’t we be at the USJ instead” Iida yelled hand straight in the air. He still had bandages on and the memory that he might have permanent damage ran through my mind. He was always so confident and pointed out things, I had to thank him some time for talking so much that the teachers didn’t pick on me. 

“That facility specialises in disasters. As I said earlier this is a race” the way he spoke those last few words, head tilted down and smile wide I got nervous. Were we racing him because if so, I was going to quite enjoy making myself invisible and running away? “So prepare, you are about to step inside field gamma. Inside is an area full of factories, an intricate labyrinth. Good luck finding your way around. You’ll be competing in groups of five, each group starts on the outskirts of the model city. I’ll send out a distress signal and you do what you must to come to save me. Whoever finds me first, wins. But try to keep the property damage to a bare minimum please” I laughed lightly as his eyes changed from looking at all of us to only looking at Bakugou who was now looking away a scowl etched on his face. His quirk was strong, very strong but his quirk was also destructive which was a problem.

“Tch, why are you pointing at me?” Bakugous’ voice was low and croaky. He was offended by the poor thing. He was looking away not even bothering to make eye contact as I smiled laughing silently. I didn’t want to be on the receiving end of his anger. 

“Alright first group get to your places” and then we were off. Splitting up. Deku, Sero, Mina, Iida and Ojiro. The rest of us were moved in front of a TV screen where we could watch the playthrough. I had to learn everyone's attacks and weaknesses...for future reference of course. 

Everyone began to talk about who they believed was going to get to All Might first. Sero was at an advantage of simply being able to go over the buildings. Mina couldn’t destroy a lot, Midoriya I wasn’t too sure about. Ojiro could jump around and Iida was fast so they all had fast quirks. This would be something very interesting to watch. 

I ignored what everyone was saying. I needed to pay attention, I had to watch them closely in case they made us do it again and we had to fight them myself. I needed to watch them. Once it began Sero was the first to fly off, just like I predicted above everything. Then Mina skidded along the top of the buildings, she was fast. Ojiro on his tail and then Iida running along the ground. This was going to be a race of speed not so much anything else. Then out of nowhere came Midoriya, quick and jumping around on top of everyone. He looked like Bakugou and bit and from the angered look on his face he knew it too. Then he fell. The match was over quickly, Sero won just like I said. He knew his quirk too well and the fact he could easily maneuver through the place was definitely on his side. This was important to remember all their strengths. 

I was in the last group. I was up against Bakugou, Todoroki, Uraraka and Tsu. We were on the outskirts and I smirked. This would be easy, when we were allowed to go I watched as everyone began to quickly run off to get to All Might. I looked at the Camera and waved, then sent out an illusion, Cameras could only see the illusion. 

“Where did All Might go” I was running along a bridge to his spot, quick and fast. “Dammit Y/N” I could hear Bakugou yell then more explosions. The rules never stated I couldn’t use my quirk to confuse them. I was running full speed as I ran towards All Might who was smiling at me. 

Jumping down I let the illusion fade and down I was in front of him as the others landed and I got the sash. “Your quirk is so good” Uraraka looked down painfully her arms swinging by her sides as she sighed. “I thought I had a chance” 

“Sorry” I called out and leaned to one side. I could see the angered face of Bakugou as I smiled at him, he huffed and I shrugged. “I like to win” was the last thing I said as the class was over. I let everyone walk along another bridge with me so they didn’t have to walk the whole way to the entrance.

Jumping off I was met with congratulations, soon after we were sent to the changing rooms. I stretched as I walked, my hips swaying. An unfortunate side effect of wearing a skintight suit. I sighed out bringing my arms down and rolling my neck. I had gotten complimented on my new outfit and I flushed instantly. Sure I expected someone to notice but the way Toru went on about how pretty it was and how good I looked, then Mina and Tsu added in their thoughts and then it was all the girls. I couldn’t help but blush. 

In the changing rooms, I was getting undressed when I saw all the girls crowd around a little hole. I tilted my head walking over as I pulled my skirt up to my legs not having put my shirt on. I watched as Jirous’ earphone jack went straight through the hole. I could hear Mineta talk about what he wanted to see and I grimaced. I was guessing Jirou hit something at the scream we all heard. 

“Thanks, Kyoka” Toru spat out. I was so disgusted that the little pervert would try something like that. I could hear Iida going off at him and I didn’t think it was enough, he shouldn’t be in this course if this is how he acted. Jirou had her hands around her body as if to somehow cover herself. 

“Despicable, we will close up this hole immediately” Yaoyarozu huffed out, she had a very angry look on her face and I was sure my face mirrored hers. I was pissed, how low did he have to be to try something like that. 

“I’ll have it closed, for now, you can get changed Jirou. He can’t see in” I was met with a smile and then used an illusion to block the hole. “Just give me a moment” I whispered and then heard a scream as an illusion came into the boys' locker room, I could see if I wanted to but instead I only created the illusion. 

“You are honestly disgusting” I looked to Mineta, the illusion was clothed, I made sure to put that in as I looked down at the boy who was still standing in front of the hole. “If you ever try something like that again, I will personally make sure you know the full extent of my quirk” with those words the illusion faded. 

“Good one. Can you see through it” Uraraka asked and I flushed immediately as I moved to place on my shirt. I wasn’t looking at any of them and I couldn’t blame her for asking. 

“If I think hard enough yes. But an illusion isn’t me so no I didn’t see anything though I would have liked to do a bit more damage than yelling if I'm honest” I smiled and heard a group of laughter as I buttoned up my shirt before tucking it into my skirt. The skirt was shorter then I would have liked but that was a price I had to pay by not trying it on before I bought it. It was of a decent length and no one could see anything but paranoia was a key factor.  

-

Soon it was the end of the day and I was off on my way home. It was afternoon as I walked out of the main building and looked at my phone seeing a message. “Picking you up, wait” that was the only thing my mother had written. I was going to tell her not to worry but I knew it would just lead to drama and most likely another fight. Moving to a side bench I sat down and then waited. I continued to wait and wait and wait. An hour and a half later I was now staring at the parking lot waiting for my mother to arrive. 

“Y/N” I heard and turned and saw Todoroki standing behind me, book bag in hand and staring at me confused. I looked to Todoroki trying to see any emotion “Why are you still here, school ended hours ago” he commented. I could ask him the same thing. 

“Oh, well, you see” I stuttered, should I lie. Should I say I'm in an after school group, no he might ask which one. He could see my hesitance and my words fell “My mother told me to wait” I whispered and looked down to my phone. All the messages were delivered but none had been replied too. “I’m sure she’s just caught up with something” even though I could hear the lie in my tone. 

He heard it too as I nodded and looked back to my phone “Do you want me to wait with you” I felt like my heart stop. He was so nice, yet so quiet. I had seen him lose his cool though, at the hospital. I moved to meet his eyes “I’m happy too” he spoke as I looked down again.

I considered it, it was lonely and I needed to make friends. What was I thinking, I softly shook my head “No” I breathed out, licking my lips, shaking my head as I fakely smiled “No, it’s ok. You go home” I tried to smile again but it was small and didn’t reach my eyes. 

“Are you ok?” he asked and I tilted my head confused “You’re crying” I paused my hand coming to my eyes, I was indeed crying. Tears fell down my face as he moved to sit next to me. I quickly wiped my eyes. 

This was so embarrassing “I’m so sorry” I whispered trying to desperately stop crying in front of him. This was extremely awkward and my eyes hurt a little after as I rubbed them harshly. “It’s just been a long week is all” I smiled. 

“There’s no need to apologise. It’s ok to cry” no it wasn’t, it was not ok to cry especially in front of a classmate you’ve had one conversation with. I was so embarrassed I could feel my hands shake, I put them in my lap so he wouldn’t see. “You don’t have a good relationship with your parents do you” I looked at him quickly, he had a face as he understood and I sighed out and nodded. “I don’t either” he was always so honest not thinking twice about his words “I saw how your mother treated you after the festival” I nodded slowly. 

“Yeah” I whispered dismissively “She’s just got a lot on and is always busy” I rubbed my shoulder subconsciously “She doesn’t mean it, I don’t think” my fingers dug into my skin as I nodded and tried to hold back my tears “She’s just” I paused and then let the air leave my lungs. “Her”. 

“My dad isn’t the best” he admitted and I nodded agreeing. We spoke for a while, just talking and getting to know each other. It was fun to just talk to Todoroki. I found out he likes Cold Soba and wants to be the top hero to throw it in his dad's face. 

“You should head off, it’s getting dark and I don’t want you going home when it is dark. My mother will be here soon, I'm sure of it” a little bit more persuading and he was off walking out of the school. Teachers left as I sat there and waited. 

It was dark now and I was running low on battery as I tried to pass the time. I wasn’t worried as I was still on school grounds though I was getting angrier by the second now that most of the parking lot was empty. Then after almost four hours of waiting her car shows up, getting into the car I notice new nails and dyed hair. 

“Did you go to the salon?” I asked as she began to drive off. No, I just hadn’t been paying attention right? I looked back seeing bags in the back seat, she just grabbed a few things earlier today on her break. Yeah, she wouldn’t make me wait four hours for no reason. 

“Yes and” she commented brushing her hair behind her ear. We made it out of the parking lot as I was trying to reel in my anger, I could feel it rolling off me in waves. I was about two seconds away from losing my mind. 

“So you made me wait at school for four extra hours, when I could've gotten home by myself, to what” I began throwing my arms around but making sure to not go on her side. I may be angry but I didn’t want her to crash. “Piss me off. Why would you make me wait if I could’ve just gone home” my voice was loud and I was yelling. 

This started an argument, both of us yelling and her making excuse after excuse for no good reason. “I had shit to do Y/N” that didn’t excuse it. I hadn’t asked her to pick me up. I was fuming, my eye twitching “Besides I’m doing something nice for you, be grateful” she snapped her hair beginning to move. 

“Grateful” I whispered “Grateful” I screamed, we were at a red light as she turned to me “Be grateful for having to wait four hours. My teachers and peers are looking at me in pity. Be grateful for you not talking to me for a week, what else should I be grateful for” I yelled my hands rising above my head “Please enlighten me” I finished and her hair was now moving around in the air, she was pissed but by god, I was about ready to pull the car onto the other side of the road. She turned to the road ignoring me “Wow would you look at that” I commented.

The rest of the drive was silent, as soon as the car stopped I grabbed my things opening the door and then slamming it harshly a loud bang is heard and yell from my mother. I opened the front door and my dad was angry already. How amazing. 

“Where have you been?” he shouted and came to stand in front of me, chest puffed and nose flaring “I have been waiting for hours. No message, no call. Who were you with” I was about to talk when he stomped his foot “Tell me this second”

I was past my caring limit, past angry and past hysteria. I was so livid “Your wife made me wait at school for four hours while she went out shopping. If you were so worried, message me yourself for a change” as she walked in the door bags in hand I growled as she too began to scream at me. “Enough” I screamed and shook the house. My quirk running into my voice, both stilled. “Enough. I’m over this, I have had an extremely long week and I don’t want to deal with the two of you right now” with those words I stormed to my room. 

Putting up a sound barrier, my quirk did work wonders sometimes. I screamed. I screamed and screamed and screamed. Placing myself into an endless box, I flipped and broke things that came to mind. When I was a little calmer I let the box fade as I sighed out. My room was fine, no damage done. I was livid, I was over this house. Over my parents caring only for themselves. I couldn’t bear it. I had to calm down. I had to be calm. I sighed and then got changed into something more comfortable. 

Falling onto my bed with a huff I was glad I had locked the door as I was not in the least bit presentable at this given moment, hair a mess and only wearing a jumper and underwear with socks. I hadn’t studied at all today, lifting myself from the bed I moved to my desk getting my books and pens ready. 

I had muted the class group chat but when I got a notification on it I knew someone had said my name. Putting in the thumbprint I moved to look at the message. It wasn’t just me, it was ‘@everyone’ Kaminari was asking for help. Within seconds he had gotten a few replies. I was the top student in the class, something I had to keep. 

Putting on some light music I hummed along while I studied. Pages upon pages as I sat at my desk, the music changing and shuffling. I made sure to put on the ‘Calm’ list when studying. Mellow music with calm beats and slow lyrics. I loved it, it helped to stay focused. I skipped dinner, something I had been doing the last few days. When I considered myself done it was well past midnight and I knew I had to awaken in only a few hours. I had been overworking myself the past few days both physically and mentally. 

Getting up from my desk I stretched my back and then turned off the light. Heading to bed for at least a few hours. This routine went on for a while, I was getting more and more tired. I was showing up on time but later and later until I was walking in with Aizawa. I was using all my effort to participate and pay attention in class. I had helped Todoroki and Midoriya study a few times, Kirishima, Sero and Kaminari tagging along then it turned into a half a class thing. 

“Y/N you have such neat notes” Kaminari complimented and with hooded and under shaded eyes I thanked him. I helped whoever needed it, I began talking to them more often and even Bakugou had tagged along. I ended up helping him a few times even though I played it off as he was helping me for the others. 

“How does someone have the mental capacity to take these kinda notes in class and then study” Mina called out throwing her arms in the air and her head falling back with a cry. I was sitting next to Bakugou and Todoroki, I should say in the middle of them when I received a call. 

I didn’t even look at the caller as I tiredly answered “Hello” it was silent for a few moments as I yawned and held the bridge of my nose. I could see everyone being quiet as I waited for a reply. 

“Where are you” came a scream and I could see I was getting a few stares. With a confused glance and pulling the phone from my ear, I looked at the caller ID and saw it was my mother. I nodded slowly and put it back. “Answer me” she screamed. 

“I am at a study group with people from my class” I answered calmly, I didn’t have the energy to deal with her today. I hadn’t slept in days and my anxiety was through the roof at this point. “I told you I was going, you said and I quote ‘I couldn’t care less’” I didn’t care who could hear I was tired and on my last brain cells of living. 

“Don’t expect me to pick you up” she shouted, it sounded like she was in the car. I put my hand up to the class and stood, stumbling over a little way away from the table to have this conversation somewhat private. 

“I didn’t” I answered and leaned against a wall, not quite able to hold myself up at this given point of time. I sighed out and rolled my eyes as the yelling continued. 

“What time will you be home” as I was about to answer I heard a beep “Idiot” so she was driving, I rubbed my eyes just trying to keep them open. “Answer me” another scream and I pulled the phone away from my ear for a moment to not go deaf. 

“When it’s over, I have keys. I always have keys” I answered softly. If she even cared a little she would be able to hear just how tired I was and how much I wanted this conversation to end. More screaming. “I need to go” then all went silent. 

“Whatever. You know what, whatever. Do as you wish, as per usual” then she hung up. I pulled the phone away looking at the call symbol disappear and sighed. I ran my fingers through my hair. It was only just after dinner, I could go home but I wasn’t in the mood to deal with her but I was so tired. I had to study, I sighed, I had to study. 

Now I was angry, walking over I threw my phone on the table with a loud bang, not caring for the device at all as I grabbed my book and began to write. I was writing so fast, I was so mad, so burnt out. I was writing science formulas and going down the page as I changed colours and wrote my notes as I usually did. 

“Are you ok?” Kirishima asked slowly and I looked up, eyes lidded, the bags beneath my eyes felt like they were pulling my eyes down. I nodded with pursed lips “You don’t look ok” he added and I heard a few agree. 

“Just a normal day, nothing to worry about” I whispered and I could see the worried faces begin to blossom. I didn’t like the attention and swallowed, I looked down and saw all my calculations and noticed I had done an entire science calculation in anger. A hard one too. Dropping my pencil I rubbed my eyes. 

“When was the last time you slept?” Sero asked his smile fading but teeth still showing. Now everyone seemed interested in this question, I too was interested in the answer. 

I thought about it “Monday” I said questioningly “I think I slept on Monday. What day is it” I asked and looked down, it was Thursday. “Saturday I had an hour, I think I had about half an hour Monday” I answered and nodded “Or was that the Saturday study breaks” I whispered and shrugged “I don’t know” I answered. 

“That’s not good” Bakugou spoke in a calm voice. I turned to him and nodded slowly. My eyes closed for a second and I shook my head to bring myself back. I could hear people saying I should go home and sleep, eat something. “You haven’t been eating either” Bakugou pointed out. 

“I have to study” I swallowed and all conversations died down. I shook my head “I can’t fall behind” I whispered and I felt the air get sad. I began to highlight and write and the conversation came back into the room. Laughter and other things. I sat in between Bakugou and Todoroki just doing my work, helping them a few times before returning. It was well into the night when we all departed. I was packing up my things as I almost fell over being caught by packing up Bakugou. “Sorry” I whispered. 

I watched as people watched me stumble out of the room and then down the hall. I accidentally bumped into Aizawa who was holding papers and almost fell over again “Y/N” he asked and I was off again down the hall.

The next few days began the same until Monday morning when the class ended. I was having trouble staying awake through the whole class but I had to pay attention to every single second. I didn’t have time to fail. I needed to do this. I needed to pass, I needed to do well. I could only sleep on the day of the exam. 

“Alright, that’s it for today, you only have one more week before the exam” I was smiling ear to ear, I could sleep. One week, I had to sleep. I had to be fully rested for the exam, I was so tired. “I’m sure you’re all studying constantly, right?” I nodded. Yes, yes I was. “Don’t forget to keep training, the written exam is only one element” no sleep for me then. I had been training but not enough, I had learned skills but I needed to put them into action. I had to do well, there was not an option for failure. “There’s also the practical portion to worry about. Good luck” and with those words the door was closed and my anxiety shot through the roof.

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Chapter 5

[lausterholes]

JJBA | All you wanna do

Link to AO3

Pair: Kars x Reader/ Kira Yoshikage x Reader/ Dio Brando x Reader/Diavolo x Reader/ Vinegar Doppio x Reader

Word: 5k

Trigger Warning: Dub-con / Rape/noncon/ Unrequited love/ Angst/ Sexual harassment/ Underage

A/N:  I have this in my mind for a while now. While I listened to All you wanna do from six the musical and the idea popped up in my head. What if all the lovers of K. Howard become the main villain of Jojo? And the reader is K. Howard herself? That's the good angst material ;D This may contain many things to make you felt super uncomfortable, just make sure that you can read tragedy. And I'm not going to romanticize any of that.

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It firstly started ever since you were a child. You can call yourself as a mediocre person, but somehow; the magnets that drew anyone closer than you make them undeniably head over heels. It felt great, it's the feelings that always make you feel valuable, you like it, you love it when someone loves you. No matter what- you always return those love, both intentionally and unintentionally. Maybe it's both reasons why it withdraws and drags more people into your life.

Jacob was alright.

Malcolm was kind.

Alex was a little wild.

But they don't even different. Once they get closer, they drifted away, leaving you alone again. You didn't understand why, but you guess it's because they were the same, it just your luck to meet those boys. But you can't help but wonder, will you ever meet someone that gave you the feeling that you've always been requited for? The one that will be your knight in shining armor. You just can't wait.

That's what you in your fifteen years old thought- innocent, pure, and hopeful thinking. All day and night, you just daydreaming about the prince that will give you love. Only to get corrupted. If you knew better- you wouldn't fell into this dark spot. But... maybe- this is just your destiny that has been destined.

One day, in an afternoon. Your father brought in a man. Tall, dark, and sexy; that's all you could describe him. The long wavy underlit hair reached his back, red menacing eyes wander to your forms, his entire body is so large compare to you. You father introduced him; Kars, your new music teacher, will come to your house every day in an afternoon to teach you all about dynamics.

He was twenty-three

And you were fifteen, almost sixteen.

At first, Kars never touch you, he just sitting face to face across the table. Teaching the chords of the guitar, how to play piano, and lead you to learn the flute. That's all he did with you. You were really happy to have him as your teacher- you can call this as you have a crush on your teacher, but who knows? He was nothing but a pure masterpiece, not just his appearance, but his expertise in understanding things quickly can make you fell in love right then.

Kars was only one strict music teacher you've met. He was hard to please and picky with the tone. Even you're a beginner, he's not going easy on you. You want to make him impressed because you like him. So you practice a lot just to make Kars proud. Day by day, you got improved. You perfectly accomplished the pieces he suggests, a smile crossed his face, satisfied with your performance. That feeling hits you once more, you feel so valuable.

One day, you have an opportunity to sit right next to him, learning about the duet piano. You moved a bit closer with an innocent intention, asking him. "Mr. Kars- Why do you become a teacher instead of being famous, using your skills?"

He looked at you, narrowed his eyes. "Well, I'm happy at this state more." The man moved his hands on the piano, leading you with one pressing. You followed up, focusing on each note. The C minor makes your surroundings forlorn but also intensifies up. You peek at his expression once your hands almost intertwined, he just wears that grin on his face. Blushing crept up on your cheeks, the closer you look, the more alluring he became. "Focus, [Y/N]."

"Yes, sir." You gulped and continued to follow his notes. Suddenly, Kars stopped his movements, so you stopped too. But quite don't understand why. "Mr. Kars?"

"Play your parts, I'll watch."

"Wait- but if you don't lead me, I don't know what to do." You flustered at his words. "And this piece is a duet, and I'm not supposed to play alone, am I?"

"It's okay, you can do it, dear."

You tense up at the word he uses. Did he use it in intention? But no- you have to focused on the task he gives. You hope that he likes you, but somehow- it felt wrong. "Okay then," You nodded and started to play your part, which sounds strange without him. Kars watched in amusement of discomfort on your face, he was aware that you felt that it's not a good song anymore.

"You may stop."

"Yes,"

Kars turned his body to face yours. "So what does it feel to play a duet alone?"

"Strange, it's not a song I recognize anymore."

"That's right," Kars answered, using his fingertips pressing on the piano. "Without my lead, what will you do?"

"Play along, even if it's unrecognizable?"

"That's not right, you always have to follow my lead."

"Mr. Kars..."

You widened your eyes. Somehow, it felt off- like really off. Kars started to caressed you hair lovingly. His orbs stared deep into yours This is not what you expected at all, the confusion hit you like a truck, so puzzlement and doubtful. You didn't even dare to move. "You're prettiest of the pretty, [Y/N]." He whispered and you froze at the moment. His face gets closer every second.

Naive, innocent, pure, and vague is what you could describe yourself. You never meet someone that you genuinely like or admire before. Once you met your music teacher, Kars, you just couldn't process what's in your mind. You just love every minute you spend with him, you just adore every part of his figure, and you just so obsessed with the idea that he gets you and you get him. Although you don't want to say that there's chemistry between you and him, you still want to accept this moment.

You're just too young and immature to know that this shouldn't go this way. You let his mouth onto yours, sucking your breath off of your lungs. It just felt so wrong and so right at the same time, couldn't be one of it. His kiss was so harsh, harsher than you thought. When he pulled away to take a break, you almost felt like your lips were bruised. Appeared a smile across your teacher's face. He was so satisfied with you.

He embraced you with his arms, the torso underneath his shirt attached to yours. "What a fairest of the fair- I couldn't get enough of you." Kars complimented. Then he leaned in for a kiss one more time. You just let it be- he looked so proud that he could have you. He undid your whole dress as you felt the shiver ran down your spine.

Is it really what I want?

Or I'm just too naive to notice what's going on?

Before you could know- the pain stung inside you, while the salty tears brimmed off your eyes.

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

It was a year after that, passing to your two birthday and you became seventeen. Due to your father, he has to manage the new business very far, far away from the city, you have to move out of your current residence. Before you moved out- Kars was so rough with the activity. Like he wants to tear every part of your form, it's the last time you could attach your body with his- he just couldn't be softer. But as soon as you realize, he has always been rough. You just think like that to trick yourself that he loves you so he did that.

You didn't even realize that he craved a scar across your heart, an unhealable scar that would forever stay there.

After his touch was long gone, you felt a little weird. It's not that you feel craving for his touch, but there's an unrecognizable feeling that hits you over and over. You regret what you decide on that day. You were just a minor and he's a fully grown man. You undeniably feel so bad about yourself, it was terrible. Why did you do that? And why did he do that too? Shouldn't Kars hold himself back? And shouldn't you be mature enough to deny his advances?

You spend hours crying on your knees. They soaked with your tear that streamed down non-stop. The regret, shame, and remorse slap you right when you've taken away from him. Gladly, you didn't get pregnant- but even then you knew, it's only the good things you acknowledge about this event so far. You were glad that you've taken away, or else you'll stick with the man forever- the man that hurt you, the man that uses the advantage of your innocent to catch you in his arms. You only hope deep inside your heart that you would never be able to see him again.

Your father suggested that you should become the apprentice at his office for a while. Less is better than nothing, he says. You agree because you don't know what to do, you just want to adjust your unstable minds for a bit. And it's the second regretful decision you've ever had in your past life.

You met another guy there; Kira Yoshikage.

He's from Japan, had moved in for years now. He was serious, stern, and slow. The quirkiness beyond his professionalism appearance sparked your interest. He was a secretary that volunteer to help your father take care of this newly open branch he manage. He tried to act like a mediocre person, but you knew that he's far capable of anything more than he tries to look like. So you tried to push him up.

Kira was thankful for your help. He and you spend your days helping each other with a bunch of documents. Despite his professionalism he always put on, he just genuinely gentle and kind toward you. Your almost aching heart just started to beat with delight each time he talks. Admiration started to grow stronger and stronger until you felt like he's different. There was a time that he accidentally touches your hands, he just brushes it off and stumbled his apologies. It was cute.

In the hint of his eyes- you can catch that he started to grow a bound together with you. He wants to touch you- but he held back, swallow down his desire. You started to felt weird once again. But let him have what he wants is not that bad, right? Kira kind toward you, he doesn't make you be the one that impressed him, he also showed you that how he efficient with this work. It just feels legit, he's different. Even your father put the trust in him, he always let you be alone with Kira.

One day, it was so late at that time. You and Kira were only two people left in the office. You trust him enough to lower your guard down. While you were cleaning your desk, Kira was making a cup of coffee. You threw away an unuse pen on the desk inside the box, bending down to carry it once you are done with yourself.

"[Y/N]" Kira suddenly spoke. You almost flinched of how much his voice was so close, you don't even know how can he just popped out of the blue. Slowly, you turned your head to him, seeing Kira standing behind you, two cups of coffee in his hands. "I don't know that you like it sweet or not, so I added a little much sugar."

"Well, thank you so much, sir." You smiled and take the cup that he offered you. Unexpectedly, Kira dropped the cup before you could grab it in your palm. You yelped as the hot liquid pouring down your stockings. "OW!- Ki-Kira-"

"Pulled off your stockings, [Y/N]!" Kira commanded you. You hurriedly do as he says, he just ran off to the kitchen next to this room, then came back with two cool-aids inside his hand. You tried to hold back your whines as the disturbing heat ran up and down your nerves. It was really painful. Willingly, you let Kira touch your legs, he put a cool-aid on each leg that almost burnt. Your eyes capture his pale frame, those vivid ocean eyes were so beautiful, his blonde bang pokes his cheekbone, somehow- he looks so elegant and attractive. You couldn't help yourself but stare at him "I'm so sorry, [Y/N]. I should've been more careful."

"Oh, it's alright. It's not too hot to leave me pain." You awkwardly smile at him.

Kira nodded with a small sigh left his mouth. "At least your hands are okay though. I almost thought that it would burn your hands instead."

"I'm just lucky." You playfully said.

"Yes, you are. Me too."

Hm?

Slowly, Kira moved his hand in the direction of yours. Caressed and held it tightly. Your heart almost skipped a beat. Kira continued to intertwine his fingers with yours, his movements started to get creepier every second. Wordless, but you tried to pulled your hand back from his grip. Something in Kira just snapped, he looked up to see your face, the glare that sews through your bones stopped all of your actions.

"[Y/N]..." He cooed. "I have to admit that I have an eye for you for a while now."

You silenced. His voice rang in your head, sweetened like a sugar coat. You blinked, staring your eyes back into his blue ones. Kira smiled fondly as he takes your hand toward his face, placing a kiss on it. You heart beating like crazy, pounding as loud as the drum.

"Your hands, you body, your face are just too perfect for me. I can't get enough of you."

Oh.

Oh.

Oh.

"And now, you're quiet- that's cute, you know?" Kira clung his cheek to your hand while staring at you. No word left your mouth, you just stay still like a doll. "[Y/N], will you help me get rid of these urges inside my head?"

You blinked, confusion builds up in your minds. "Kira-"

"Please do call me Yoshikage, [Y/N]." He stood up, the shadow of his cloak over your form. "If I was in those old periods- I dare say that I couldn't wait for a second more to get your corset on the floor."

The confusion that hits you before started to make you unable to respond to him. Is it okay for you to do this? It was too sudden- but his pleading yet so menacing eyes caught you off guard. You kind of like him though, but is it okay? Is it truly what you want to do? You don't know, you honestly don't know. The silence takes away the time for too long. Kira started to straddled over you, working on his belt.

And you give up again. Unintentionally.

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

You felt so bad to yourself. You gave up to the one who holds more power than you once more. The feelings via your hands at that moment still there. It was slick and full of pain. You cried to yourself until you fell unconscious under your quilt. He made you sore all over, every inch of your body still remaining his action, bruised over there, hickies over here. After that, you want to talk to him, but he just ignored you completely. Like you were no one but a stranger. That makes nausea hit you hard, so all he wants was some intercourse? That's all?

At that time- you don't want to recall, but you have to. You just want to clear your mind, consider all of the events. Kira was so gentle, but his urges get him rougher every minute. You can't help but melt into his touch. Each kiss, each stroke, each thrust was intoxicated, you let yourself diving in the deep. These sensations gave you pleasure more than anything, making you think that he was going to be yours- he also acted as he does too. The chemistry between you and him is so right at that time.

Only for him to treat you like air the next day.

You stopped being an apprentice at your father's office. You weren't just tried to avoid Kira- but also everything that reminds you of him. The days passing by so easily than taking a breath. But you still think of Kira- why did you ever believe that he was different? You thought you could break yourself from these disgusting bond, but will you stand a chance to do so? You don't know what's in his head, he was so kind, so professional, and even show his goofy side to you. But is that only an act?

You decide to have a break from boys. Later, you turned nineteen, it was quicker than you expected it to be. Life without love is not that boring as you thought. You still can live your normal routine, sometimes you just went shopping by yourself. It was such a good time. You glad you can be over them with these small little activities. Still, this aching heart has trembled in unstable rhythm. You were afraid that before you could heal these wounds they left, you will close your heart completely, not daring to let anyone be near it again.

You were deeply aware that you don't want that. Deep down inside your heart- you knew that there might be a person who's the one for you.

And unexpectedly, you met someone- a person that so gorgeous, far more elegant than anyone else. You met him in the bar that you don't usually go to. Those neon lights, darkness, and the crowds didn't make him any lesser stunning. Those golden locks take away your breath, those pair of eyes almost make you forgot how to blink, his lips spread into a seductive smile, he was so ethereal and you almost feel illegal to stare at him.

Something in you just urges all your nerves. You follow that irresistible forms from far away- once you get closer, he introduces himself to you. Dio Brando. Tall, broad, and alluring. He was so dangerous and you could sense it. You guess he's not so different, but the way he licked his lips while gazing over your body made you want to wander deeper into those golden orbs.

The whole night you spend with him is more interesting than the rest of the guy you've known. The more you talk, the deeper the conversation is. He was really surprised that you could capable of him, answering the question smartly. He also told you that you're only one of a few people that could make him impressed. And yes- the delight of being someone worthy bloomed inside your heart once more.

Maybe sticking around with him is not hurt.

You learned in the night after that Dio is a lawyer, you weren't surprised that he talks about the structure of society last night. You didn't want to admit, but this Dio guy just makes your heart feel something precious inside. Even he appeared as a man who has high pride and so fascinating. You find him very cute. You won't tell him what you think of him, or else he just turned you down right there.

It started with friendship, ended on the mattress. It looks like both of you just pleased with each other so much. Each day you spend with him, it just drew you two closer.

"[Y/N], I've been thinking," Dio, laid besides you on the bed, talking to you casually. "What do you think 'beautiful' is?"

"Hm," You hummed, snuggle close to his bare body. Dio slung his arms over your shoulders, then placing a kiss your temple softly. "just a definition. It's something that we human sees and think they're good in shapes. Things that are beautiful today don't mean they will be necessarily beautiful tomorrow. It just what we see and assume it is a beauty. But if you talked about the beauty of a person, it's the opposite side of perfection, you don't have to be perfect just to be beautiful. The pure beauty comes from charisma and character."

"Impressive," Dio grinned as he caressed your hair carefully. His eyes were full of vivid reverence of your words. "And what do you prefer, beauty or perfection?"

You silenced for a second. "It's hard to decide, how about both?"

He chuckled, a smile spread across his face. "How greedy."

"I've always been greedy." You tracing your fingers along his torso, sending him the urges. "To be honest, even I couldn't define the definition of these two clearly. It's not the same but also not so different. Although I want both, perfection is rather frightening to me."

"How so?" He raised his eyebrows.

"Maybe because there's nothing perfect? Many things have been clarified as perfect, but none of them go near the true definition."

Dio gave you a tender peck on the lips after you finished you sentence. You flipped yourself on top of him and started to kiss the man back, biting his lower lips until his mouth wide open, welcoming whatever it comes. You slipped your tongue inside and intertwine with his, exchange the taste of one another. The hot breath undeniably makes everything get hotter. His arms swung over your waist, hands clenching anywhere he could on your flesh, making your desire for him intensifies. Your hands went lower, lower, and lower until you reach his member.

Dio's breath became unsteady. You know how much he loves this- you don't want to be full of yourself. But you guess Dio loves this activity as much he loves you. You break out of the kiss, moving your body lower. Your free hand fondled his abdomen lovingly and pushing him back just to relax. Your other hand started to rub the tip of his manhood with a tender touch.

Then, his phone rang.

You suddenly stopped. The man just scoffed. He reached for his phone and looked on the screen. You couldn't tell who it was since he has no different expression from before. But you just couldn't make him whines while he's on his phone, right?

He accepted the call, didn't bother to be the first one who starts a conversation.

Someone from the other side of the call said something quietly.

"I think I've already made myself clear. There's nothing I have to do with that anymore." His expression was far more than terrifying. Even you who's not the person he did talk to still intimidated by him. You watching closely, afraid that you'll do something to unpleased him. "You are better off without me? What an arrogant word flew out of your mouth. Then go ahead."

His voice was calm, but smoldering with amusement and anger. And not for so long, he ended the call casually.

"[Y/N], continued what you've started." Dio grabbed your hair with a smile, his expression change within a minute and that makes you have a cold sweat. "What's wrong, pet? You worry about that call, hm?"

"It just seems important."

"He's no one."

"Really? It doesn't seem like it." You started to get worried for real.

"You want to know who it is?"

You didn't answer him right away, just look at another place, avoiding his eye contact. "I'm not going to say that I don't want to."

Dio caressed your hair, intertwine your locks with his index finger. "He's my son." You stopped breathing. He just said that out of the blue. What can you expect to feel other than shock? When Dio saw you become wordless, a small chuckle left his mouth. The index finger cups your chin up, forcing you to stare back at him. "Don't worry, I'm not a married man. Never married, to be honest. But if you still feel bad about it, feel free to stop."

"Oh," You narrowed your eyes, clearly understand that his son was born from the former lover that's not even married to him. "I still wonder why."

"Wonder about what?"

You smiled bitterly as your minds drifted back into those two men before him. He's not that different. The delight feeling inside your chest just turned into numbness. "Nothing necessary."

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

You never expected the unexpected. Your relationship with Dio is last longer than you could imagine. It was just far longer than anyone you've been with, exclude your family. From friends to a one night stand, then lead to a real couple. You never experienced something like this, it's so awkward, but still making you feel so good. Once you graduate from your college. Dio proposes to you.

So you got married.

It was quite strange, you are about ten years older than his eldest son, Giorno. But still, he has to call you mother. At first, you didn't plan to be a mother to Dio's four children, but most of them really appreciate your whole being though. Each of them born from Dio's different lover. And their mother has disappeared from their life for a long time ago. So, they don't bother to have you around that much. Exclude Rykiel that stick around you with a pure fond.

Even then, it's not easy with Dio. He started to extend the space between you and him. Without your knowing, he almost lost his interest in you. While you were busy with your work and the children, Dio wandering off in the night once again. You can't contact him while you're in need, but when you want some time to yourself, Dio came back, craving for your touch and all like nothing happen.

So you couldn't escape from these kinds of men, huh?

You kept your mouth shut every time, no matter how much you heard. You are just so done with everything right now. You couldn't let yourself losing control, even you know how many times he has lied to you like his second nature. The burden that you've to bear on your back is something you can't deny. You have to carry it on, until you've reached the destination, and you'll let it go.

But where is that destination, to be honest?

One day, in the afternoon. You just wandered off somewhere else, in an unspecific location. Just to find some new place to relax, you stopped by at the serene park you've never visited before. It's not too crowded, everyone doing their things. So silent, so peaceful. The atmosphere looks like in a fairy-tale, tiny and colorful flower, white table, and the huge tree that branched all over the above.

You were too carried away with the surroundings, so you bumped into someone. He jerked back a little with a small yelp, letting go of his water bottles. They fell onto the ground even though he tried to catch it.

You gasped, then hurriedly apologize to the man. "Oh- I'm sorry, sir. I should be more careful."

"It's okay miss! I'm not even falling back, I'm perfectly fine!" He smiled back to you, crouching down and collect his bottles back into his arms.

You felt so bad with this man. His sweet pair of eyes showed up sadness, maybe this is his bad day, that's why he has this expression. "Mind if I give you a hand?" Those sad eyes lightened up a bit. He nodded to you awkwardly as you help him. "where will you bring these into? Why you have to carry it all to yourself?"

"It's nothing- I just lost a bet. So I have to be the one who carries this." He chuckled shyly.

"It's just your luck then?"

"Yeah-"

You learned this later. His name was Vinegar Doppio, working in a nearby office. He was attentive with his works, whenever he started to talk about his boss, he looks a lot more passionate. And then, you came to this park more often, just to have a little conversation with him. You enjoyed with his company. Vinegar Doppio is such a cutie pie. He was a really nice guy, just so sincere.

Your companionship with him started to build up every day. He was different- so different. He listened to every word you say, encouraging you, happily share the inside jokes with you. Maybe, this is it. This is what you want all along. What you've been truly craving for. Friends. These feelings that have been hitting you with other men were nothing more than anxiousness. There's no chemistry, just friend that you could hang out with earnestly.

When Dio's away, you hand out loads with Doppio.

He's devoted, loving, and lively. It was like you never met someone like this before in your entire life.

This connection is real...

...

Really?

Why did you ever think that someone that interested in you was different? It would never ever be different.

Only if you know Doppio better. You wouldn't fall into this state. One day, doppio invite you to his house, said that he got some new recipes he wants to show you. It's true, Doppio prepared a nice meal, along with a good cup of black tea for you. It was really good, you never tasted something like this before. When you started to ask him for the recipe, Doppio just moved from his seat, standing behind your back, touching your shoulder firmly.

"Doppio?"

He clenched his fist onto your shoulder, digging your shirt inside his palm. Suddenly, his voice aloud- but it just far deeper than your Doppio's voice. "[Y/N], you're already married, right?"

"...Yes?"

"Is your husband being nice to you?" He used his fingers to run through your hair. You felt a shiver ran down your spine as he continued to play with your locks.

You gulped in discomfort. "I can say he is, but not as much as he was."

"Hm," He let go of your shoulder. "[Y/N], I want you to turn around."

You didn't understand why, but you do as he demand. Once you turned around and face him, suddenly, Doppio placed his lips onto yours. You jerked back abruptly, hitting the corner of the table. You stared at this unrecognizable man and think; who is this? The brown eyes replaced with menacing green. Those dots never painted on those pink locks before. You were unable to speak. Just who is this man?

The taller man just caught you between his arms. Those pair of emerald eyes stared deep into yours. He's not Doppio, but they shared little traits, but apart from that- he does not even resemble Doppio. He narrowed his eyes once he sees your hands trembled.

"I've expected that you'll be like this." He sighed. "I should have prepared you more."

Doppio- or anyone else he is, dragging you with your wrist, straight to the couch. He threw you on the soft mattress, then straddle over your smaller form. He propped your head up by the backside of your head, pulling your hair down, making your face tilt upward. He kissed you roughly. biting your lower lips so harsh that you were afraid it'll bruise. You tried to fight back with all your strength, kicking, biting, punching. But it was all useless. The man uses his legs to weighted yours down, pinning your hands by both of his.

The sensations were unintentionally riled you up. You never wanted this from Doppio, you only want to be his friends. There should be nothing more to it. But he's kissing you like a hungry hound dog, ripping your clothes apart of your body. His hand went lower, rubbing your sensitive clit through your undergarment"You're the prettiest of pretty, [Y/N]."

Those words- makes you remember your relationship with Kars. Nothing but pure disgust crept into your mind, he was a fully grown man, he should know that it's wrong. He should reject you, stated it out clearly that it's wrong to have a relationship with your own teacher. But he didn't do that. He used the advantage of you being naive in order to get you intimate with him.

You felt the pang of pain stretched you down there. You yelped as the tears rolled down your cheeks. "Doppio! Stop!- I'm begging you!"

"My name is Diavolo," He growled through the pain that also sent to him. You gasped as he continued to penetrate into you, spreading the hole wider by your labia. He never thought that he could fuck a cunt this tight before. He's overwhelmed with power when you whine each inch he inserts. Once he's fully inside you, he's kind enough to let you adjust his length. "Looks like the last time you've done this was long ago."

He intertwined your finger with him, fondle them together nicely, this action reminds you of Kira. He's not so different. Not at all. What were you thinking? Just because sometimes he showed you his vulnerable side despite his professionalism, that doesn't mean you're the one. But why did Kira treat you like that? Why he had to take your trust away like that? Why?

Diavolo started to move his hips, sending you pleasure all over your body. But your heart gets tainted each time he slammed his hips to yours. The rhythm started to get rougher and rougher. The pain down there was gone, leaving you with an intoxicated pleasure. You cried as you moaned his name unintentionally, the whole action was too good to keep your feelings in. You might regret this the next morning. You might cry in shame once this is over. But you just have to give in one more time.

"You're enjoying this, aren't you? What a slut you are."

Diavolo pulled out, you gasped at the sudden empty feeling. Only for him to roll you on your knees, then insert his massive manhood inside your cunt once more. He fucks your brains out like crazy, you almost fell into an oblivion every time he thrust. The sound of skin slapping against skin aloud over and over. You almost reach there, your body trembled, your toes curled, and you couldn't control your moan anymore. You can feel his cock twitched inside you, he almost reach there too.

Suddenly, your ring slipped off of your finger, it fell on the floor, rolling away in the dark corner. But this intercourse is far more distracting, you didn't even notice that your ring has gone. Diavolo started to pant uncontrollably as he rammed into your slick walls. You arched your back as the orgasm hits you hard, moaning out his name. You road out your orgasm, while Diavolo started to get there, he grunted loudly as he slammed a few more times. He didn't bother to pull out, Diavolo just keeps his balls deep inside you, painting your walls in a dirty white.

You panted, adjust your unsteady breath difficultly. Once you collapse on Diavolo's couch, the tear brimmed in the corner of your eyes once more. You're tired, you're broken, you've choked on your pride.

All you want to do is birds and the bees. Don't care if you don't please me.

You swallowed your pride over and over again. Just because you believed that you're finally where you meant to be.

When actually, there's no way for you to go.

And you'll never be where you were meant to be.

[thebibliomancer]

Essential Avengers: Avengers #221: ... New Blood!

July, 1982

A semi-famous somewhat imitated cover!

Can you guess ahead of time which two will be joining the Avengers?

No cheating.

Actually, what’s funny is that I can imagine a Young Bendis looking at this cover, seeing Luke Cage, Spider-Man, and Wolverine all in a row like that and whispering to himself ‘one day... one day...’

Spider-Woman is even on this! This is almost the roster meme that Bendis would have selected his team out of.

Just as soon as he cleared the way by killing off Ant-Man and Hawkeye.

Anyway, I like the cute touch that there’s just a completely blank square for Sue Storm. And is she really still going by Invisible Girl at this point?

-google- Ah, Invisible Woman is still a few years off.

And at risk of spoiling, I like the cover pretending that Rom (Space Knight) could feasibly join the Avengers. Although that would have made a hilarious mess when the rights lapsed. A whole swathe of Avengers comics unavailable.

So, where are we at?

Last times on Avengers: Captain America decided that the Avengers had become too unwieldy. They’d settled into a filler rut and Cap wanted them to be lean and mean.

So the old order changeith’d! And Moondragon meddled, causing half of the old team to quit. But Cap got his lean team of himself, Thor, Iron Man, Wasp, Yellowjacket, and Tigra.

And then Yellowjacket Hank Pym had an ‘attempted murder out of insecurity’ breakdown and tried to murder his friends and was a very bad husband to Wasp as well.

So Yellowjacket was out and Wasp took some personal time.

It was just Cap, Thor, Iron Man, and Tigra. And then Tigra quit.

Wasp rejoined but the trim team of six had become anemic at four and after some space mishaps, its finally time to try to do something about that.

As Iron Man declares in title-of-the-issue font they need some ... NEW BLOOD!

And Wasp declares ‘yes we all know that already we’ve just been putting it off.’

(And they finally got the big meeting table back from the cleaners or wherever its been. Thank goodness)

But the question that Chairperson Wasp poses the team is should they re-induct some ex-members or go looking for some truly new blood?

Thor is brooding on the recent events, where Moondragon manipulated the Avengers previous roster shakeup and later when Moondragon took over a planet and got Thor to fight his friends.

So Thor’s point, by way of dwelling, is that they should be careful with who they choose.

Thor: “Thus can no action, no thought made by any of us in the last weeks be truly, absolutely claimed as our own. Not even... mine.”

There we go. There’s that good Moondragon induced paranoia I was hoping for.

And character wise, I do like that there’s fallout from the Ba-Bani misadventure. Whether being forced to fight his friends or being made to fall in love with Moondragon or being convinced to side with her plan to bring mandatory peace to the universe. Thor has been affected by what happened.

Cap suggests that they clear the slate and just judge potential members on their current qualifications.

So what qualifications should potential Avengers have?

Captain America: “Compatibility. Someone who can work in a team.”

Iron Man: “And technical expertise. Perhaps someone good with weaponry.”

Thor: “We’ve enough strength, methinks. But courage is important. Aye, and a noble heart.”

Wasp: “Well, I know exactly what this group needs. More girls!”

Good suggestions. All good suggestions. But very good suggestion from Wasp.

I know that two women on one team is the low bar that Avengers tends to reach but you know what’s worse? One women on one team. And you know what’s better? Three.

Think about it.

The meeting gets cut short because Jan has to go do Jan things like show off fashion at the Tavern on the Green but she tells the others to figure out who they’d like as new Avengers and then they’ll all decide at their meeting next week.

As the Avengers all head off, Captain America mentions to Iron Man that hey remember how Hawkeye used to be an Avenger all the time? Weren’t those good times? He worked well on the team, was real into being an Avenger.

Iron Man agrees that sure is a Thought but flies off thinking more about Jan’s suggestion to have more women on the team, albeit probably for less than pure reasons.

Thor meanwhile doesn’t have anywhere to be so sits down in the sitting room and reads a Time magazine.

Jarvis brings Thor some mead and Thor asks who Jarvis would enlist for the Avengers if Jarvis was given the choice.

Jarvis is surprised to be asked but does his best to speak off the cuff.

Jarvis: “Why, I - I really hadn’t given it much thought! But since you ask, I feel that some of the best Avengers have started as the most unlikely candidates. For example, those with strongly individual, independent natures seem to have worked out surprisingly well.”

You’re a good guy, Jarvis.

And you’ve got a good point. Since the Avengers were pretty much everyone who wasn’t on a team jammed onto a team together, the Avengers kind of have as foundation strongly individual independent superheroes managing to do a teamwork anyway.

And Thor just so happens to be reading the Time magazine that has a picture of Spider-Man on the front (along with “Friend or Menace?”) and thinks huh individual and independent??

Oh boy!

Spider-Man going to be offered a spot on the Avengers? Is it 2005 already?

Goofs aside, this is an interesting callback maybe.

All the way back in Amazing Spider-Man Annual #3 (November, 1966) which I didn’t cover but probably should have if this was a more comprehensive Avengers blog but then I may have died under the enormity of the task.

Uh, that sentence got away from me.

Anyway, in that Spider-Man Annual, the Avengers debate whether to recruit Spider-Man for their team. Thor is the one there to find Spider-Man and bring him to the mansion. The Avengers decide to test him and (after Spider-Man tries to beat up the entire team because that’s what Spider-Man thinks proving himself is) they send him to bring the Hulk back with him.

He finds the Hulk and fights the Hulk but Hulk turns back to Bruce Banner and Spider-Man feels bad for Bruce and doesn’t want to turn him over to the Avengers (not knowing that they want to help Hulk). So he comes back and says welp couldn’t find him guess I’m not Avengers material byyyyyye.

The other Avengers go huh I guess he wasn’t Avengers material but Thor seemed to suspect what had really happened.

So my rambling point is that its appropriate that Thor again thinks to recruit Spider-Man for the Avengers because of that previous story.

Later in the day, Iron Man calls Captain America.

Although as Cap points out they know each other’s civilian name now so why be formal?

Iron Man: “Captain America? This is Iron Man.”

Captain America: “Hey, Tony, let’s make it ‘Steve,’ okay? I’m off duty.”

So Tony “Iron Man” Stark has managed to stop thinking about more woman on the Avengers and has actually started to think about having Hawkeye back on the Avengers and has to admit, it sounds good to him!

So Captain Steve says they should go together tomorrow and see what Hawkeye thinks.

This is a nice sequence.

Its nice to see how the two learning each other’s identity plays out like this. Tony trying to stick to how they’ve known each other and Steve making a not subtle overture for them to become more familiar.

This is probably good shipping fodder, I realize!

But it is also good friendshipping fodder. It can be both.

Elsewhere and meanwhile, at the Van Dyne residence, Janet puts her own recruitment drive into... drive?

She’s invited every super-heroine in the country she can think of to brunch but she has no idea how to get a hold of She-Hulk.

Not even her state of the art computer system can find her! Granted, the state of the art computer system is for analyzing fashion forecasts and not news reports about She-Hulk sightings.

So Jan decides that if you want a She-Hulk you’ve got to spend a little green.

She has her assistant take out a bunch of full-page ads in all of the major west coast newspapers. And heck, buy a bunch of commercial time too!

Jan is going to do some I Want You (to Join the Avengers) ads!

She is ludicrously wealthy.

I went and checked and her original inheritance was ‘only’ three million dollars but the way that she throws around money I’m pretty sure she has managed to get some lucrative investments. That or she’s just super good at being a fashionista.

Granted, blowing a bunch of money for a chance to have brunch with She-Hulk is a pretty good reason to blow a bunch of money.

Later, as twilight comes, Thor is flying around Central Park because he has no idea how to find Spider-Man but hears that he’s often around “the meadow-lands called Central Park” and happens upon three goofuses who just robbed a pawnshop.

These goofuses are such goofuses that one of them is wearing groucho glasses as a disguise. Another one is wearing a clown mask.

Which, like a moth to fire, aggros Spider-Man just to mock the guy.

I’m pretty sure rather than flying around aimlessly, the best way to find Spider-Man is to create the perfect quip opportunity.

A clown: “I’m gonna kiss every dime o’ my share -- just as soon as we get to the hideout so’s I can take off this stupid mask!”

Spider-Man, suddenly: “Aw, c’mon, Bunky, leave it on! I’ve always wanted to bust a bozo who looks like a bozo!”

Groucho: “S-s-spider-Man!”

S-s-spider-Man: “But enough of this clowning! Wanna give up?”

Dangit, Peter. Good wordplay.

But before can catch these thieves just like flies, down came the rain and washed the spider out.

A sudden, inexplicable (cough cough Thor) localized storm tosses around the thieves until they surrender.

After the police lead away the goofus thieves, Spider-Man comes dripping wet and with a bone to pick.

Spider-Man: “Do you have any idea what it’s like running around in wet tights?”

Thor is like sorry bro but I’ve come to talk so Spider-Man agrees but they’ll need to go off somewhere private because the press is honing in on him to ask him bonkers questions about whether he came in a flying saucer.

I think they’re thinking of a certain emissary of hell.

That darn press!

Spider-Man and Thor relocate to a high rooftop for their talk.

Spider-Man: “Now, Goldilocks, what’s your beef?”

Thor: “Thy protective demeanor is unneeded, my friend. I have no ‘beef’ -- only a proposal. The Avengers are seeking new members, and I wouldst offer thee such position.”

Spider-Man: “You... Thor... want me as an Avenger?

Spider-Man is still not sure if it would work out (reflecting on Spider-Man Annual #3) but he’s also really flattered by the offer. And presumably how the offer wasn’t accompanied by “BUT FIRST YOU MUST PASS OUR TEST!”

So he can’t just accept the offer off-hand but he’s definitely going to think about it.

Even if you don’t join the team, even just being considered is an honor.

The twilight turns into night turns into day, and Cap and Iron Man show up in Hawkeye’s place of business to bug him.

Don’t know if you remember but Hawkeye has a cushy job as head of security for Cross Technological Enterprises. And he actually does take the job seriously which is why he’s a little concerned, at least for his professional pride, that Cap and Iron Man got past his guards.

Cap: “Avengers priority -- never leave home without it. In fact, we’ve come to offer it to you.”

Smooth. Smooth, Cap.

Although I do like that they can just march up to the guards of this company and go ‘hey let us in we’re avengers’ and its not even a ‘ok i’ll clear it with head of security hawkeye’ its ‘yeah sure go right in and do you want any paperclips?’

Anyway, Hawkeye has his pride so he tells Cap not to expect him to come crawling back after the Avengers booted him out (actually Gyrich because Gyrich wanted the Avengers to have some ding dang diversity. Its weirdly the least assholeish thing he’s ever done although he approached it very much in an asshole way).

Point being, they kicked Hawkeye out and he has a new super cool job now.

Iron Man takes this show of wounded pride in wounded stride, just asking that Hawkeye consider it and let them know when he makes a decision.

But Hawkeye doubts he’ll decide to come back to the Avengers because he’s got a good thing in this steady, respectable paying job which comes with job security and respect!

And then, suddenly struck by the realization that he, Hawkeye, is turning down a drama implosion like the Avengers to do the adult thing?? Hawkeye doesn’t like what he’s become.

And he stares in horror at the trappings of power and respectability. The sex and the drugs.

Or a Playboy magazine and a personalized coffee cup, at least.

And he decides to give Iron Man his answer right then and there.

Which, of course, involves shooting arrows. This is Hawkeye we’re talking about.

What’s amazing is that we’ll learn later this issue that he’s going to keep his security job and do Avengers on top of that (and in fairness most of the Avengers don’t have Avengers as their only thing). But he just shot an arrow through a glass door in his place of employment.

But you don’t hire Hawkeye if you don’t expect that kind of thing so I can see why it wouldn’t impact his job.

So that’s Hawkeye as a YES and Spider-Man as a ‘I’ll get back to you.’ And as the weekend arrives, it’s time for Janet van Dyne’s superheroine brunch.

And on the hill above the van Dyne house, its our old pal Fabian Stankowicz.

Remember? The Mechano-Marauder? Built a robot suit to beat up the Avengers, none of them took him that seriously? Iron Man beat him up solo without trying very hard and then got angry about Hank Pym?

Anyway, he’s back, somehow, and he’s salty about the less than dignified experience he had in issue 217. But this time, he has a new plan!

Fabian Stankowicz: “They laughed at me! Mocked me! But I’ll show the Avengers that the Mechano-Marauder is not to be toyed with! I’ll attack their weakest member when the others aren’t around! She’ll be helpless! *Heh-heh-heh*”

Well. Good luck with that, my dude.

Sue Storm-Richards, the Invisible Girl, arrives and Jan introduces her to the other prospective Avengers: Dazzler, Spider-Woman, and Black Widow.

All good candidates, really.

Especially Dazzler.

Well, Beast left and Tigra left so somebody needs to be the new funny person.

Apparently, Spider-Woman doesn’t like puns because she immediately starts getting catty with Dazzler.

Spider-Woman: “Nice going, Blaire! You’re showing all the polish and poise of a real pro!”

Dazzler: “Oh? And I suppose crawling on walls like some yucky insect is ‘professional’?”

Spider-Woman: “I sting, too”

I guess, they have some history in Dazzler’s own book that didn’t go over well. Black Widow has to lean over and tell them to cut the shit out for Jan’s sake.

But then the last invited guest shows up.

ITS A SHE-HULK!

She saw the ads and she’s come for the free food!

Relatable.

Outside, Jan’s chauffeur Mr. Carrothers sits on the limo taking a smoke break and reflecting how good he has it working for the Wasp. Good pay, casual hours. The most he can complain about is that it gets a little boring sometimes.

That’s probably tempting fate because the All-New All-Different Mechano-Marauder stomps up to the house. Remember how Fabian threw the limo last time? Mr. Carrothers remembers.

He panics and runs into the house and tries to warn the assembled heroes.

And yet.

They didn’t really leap to action, huh? I mean, I get it. Brunch.

Even after the robot fist has punched through Wasp’s frankly ludicrous window and kidnapped Dazzler, Wasp is more annoyed than anything.

Wasp: “Fabian Stankowicz, you get that thing out of my living room!”

And then has to explain to her guests that Fabian is some chump that Iron Man beat up and that he wants to make a name for himself by defeating the Avengers. And Sue is like ah yes I understand completely.

But chump or not, Black Widow decides that they should rescue Dazzler.

Dazzler: “I don’t think I need saving, folks! This guy’s just holding, not squeezing!”

And so much for the brunch bunch taking this any amount of serious.

Sue just puts up a quick invisible dome to keep Fabian from getting to the rest of them which the Mechano-Marauder instantly bonks into and bangs on impotently demanding that they let him in.

Careful, Fabian.

You’re memeing yourself.

Dazzler saves herself when she gets tired of being carried around. She does her Dazzler thing with the bright pulse of light, blinding Fabian.

He drops Dazzler but she’s caught by She-Hulk.

The blinded Mechano-Marauder drives around blindly, thinking “These women aren’t even Avengers! They can’t beat me!”

Alas, Dazzler decides the same decision she decided in #211, that she’s a singer, not a fighter.

And Sue also decides to head off, saying that she’s too busy with the Fantastic Four anyway.

Shame.

But can we talk about the sheer audacity that Jan had of trying to poach Sue from the Fantastic Four to the Avengers? The nerve! The verve!

So that’s two of her candidates declining but that still leaves Spider-Woman, Black Widow, and She-Hulk.

And unfortunately for Mechano-Marauder, the first two are the two that have decided to kick his ass a little for entertainment reasons.

Spider-Woman’s venom blast damages one of the giant robot fists and Black Widow swings around Hoth-style and trips the Mechano-Marauder into the ornamental pond.

Alas, after literally dunking a giant robot into a pond, both Spider-Woman and Black Widow turn down the offer to join the Avengers.

Black Widow has private business that are keeping her busy. And Spider-Woman doesn’t even offer an excuse.

In fairness, she has her own solo book over in California and that’s a heck of a commute. I’m actually impressed that she came all this way for brunch.

Fabian is fed up with being treated as an after-thought in his own fight scene and bursts out of the pond, yelling how he’s going to destroy them all!

All.... uh, two that’s left at this point. Yup, he sure is going to destroy all two of them.

She-Hulk has been fairly low-key this whole story, especially for She-Hulk. I’m pretty sure she came to the brunch just for the food and she hasn’t reacted much to Fabian, even when the others were. She caught Dazzler but she hasn’t had much to say since arriving. She’s mostly been standing with her hands on her hips, watching things play out.

But I guess she’s gotten tired of Fabian. Or maybe it falls to her as the last guest.

She tells him to shut up and breaks his robot suit with one punch.

Fabian has one last trick up his Mechano-Marauder sleeve but its a dumb one.

His ejector seat is actually a backup robot suit. Annnd, its so heavy that it sinks into the ground. Trapping him.

Good job, Fabian.

She-Hulk goes to give him one more punch but Wasp stops her. Because she wants a shot at him.

And wow! What a shot!

At full not small size she crosses the streams to focus her bio-power stings into one concentrated beam and blows a hole in Fabian’s escape suit.

I’ve talked before about how Wasp’s pew pew stings have seemingly gotten souped up under Shooter and I think this is another good example. I mean, she’s not blowing up a house but combining the blasts to do precision boring is another cool application we haven’t seen before.

Anyway, now Wasp goes teeny and flies into the hole she made and up into the helmet to blast Fabian in the face. So hard his helmet flies off.

Wasp: “That’ll teach ‘im for ruining my party!”

And that’s that for brunch.

Days later, Jarvis calls the State Department to request official clearance for two new members.

And we see part of the process of that. Interesting if you’re interested in the logistics of an officially recognized superhero team.

I guess what’s interesting is that Henry Peter Gyrich is still part of the process.

You’d think he’d have been replaced or something after the Avengers very publicly embarrassed him and got emancipated from him. I guess he keeps doing the necessary liaison stuff without ever talking to them.

The requests for the two new members cross Gyrich’s desk and he takes it to the White House where the request gets signed by Ronald Reagan.

(The two new members are Hawkeye and She-Hulk by the by. We see it on the paperwork. Guess Spider-Man is still thinking it over.)

Anyway, I guess its interesting that new Avengers are a matter that goes all the way up to the president.

God, I’m glad that for the modern team, Cap told the US government to fuck off because I don’t want to even think about that still being a thing.

The next day after the paperwork is signed, Hawkeye is on his way to Avengers Mansion in a cab. He’s reading a Time magazine about the change in the Avengers’ roster and reflecting that it’ll be hard to hold down two jobs but worth it because he’s missed the adventure.

Check out the Time magazine though.

The cover of this comic book issue is in-universe the cover of Time magazine! That’s neat.

But Hawkeye’s cab is suddenly cut off by a pink Cadillac.

And Hawkeye being Hawkeye doesn’t just grumble and go about his day. He commits assault. Because this is Hawkeye.

The guy that Cap and Iron Man wanted back for being a good team-player.

So he gets out of the cab and shoots the pink Cadillac with an EMP arrow that fries the car’s electrical system.

Really abusing that Avengers Priority Status already, huh, Hawkeye?

The one mistake he made is that the pink Cadillac belongs to She-Hulk. She in fact earned it by doing a car commercial for Wacky Willie’s Wheels-And-Deals so you might imagine she’s fond of it.

So she picks up the cab with Hawkeye in it and leans it against a lightpole.

And then she picks up the Cadillac on her shoulder and walks off with it.

She-Hulk knows how to make a lasting impression, I’ll say that.

But soon after he gets down from the taxi and stops in at an ER to make sure he’s not concussed, Hawkeye arrives at Avengers Mansion to rejoin the team.

Hawkeye: “Okay, folks, life can go on -- Hawkeye’s here!”

Iron Man: “And it’s about time! We were starting to get worried. What happened?”

Hawkeye: “Oh, nothin’ much -- not ‘til some freaky Amazon tried to play dominoes with my taxi!”

She-Hulk, lurking silhouetted by the window: “‘Amazon’, eh? I don’t suppose it could have been -- a green Amazon?”

That is a powerful energy you have there, She-Hulk. Powerful energy and a power move in a power suit.

And that’s how Hawkeye’s day was ruined. Also how the two new additions to the team start with bad blood.

Conflict! We gotta have it!

Wasp: “Hawkeye, She-Hulk. I’d like to officially welcome you both. From now on -- you’re one of us. We’re one of you. And we’re all -- THE AVENGERS!”

Jan’s trying a new thing where she kisses every new member. And they both have to bend down a little for her.

Also, another new Wasp costume! Wasp gonna Wasp!

This is another good, light-hearted decompression issue. The Moondragon two-parter had some yuks but also mind-control sex and Drax’s brain melting. So this time Wasp throws a brunch and Cap and Iron Man help Hawkeye escape the drudgery of an adult job.

There’s a lot of what could have been with Wasp’s guest list. What if she could convince Sue Storm to take a break from the Fantastic Four to try being on the Avengers.

She’ll join later, in the Worst Roster but she’ll join with Reed. I’m thinking more of a thing where Sue gets some time away from the family. I don’t think it could last long and it would need the Avengers and FF writer to be on the same page but I think it could be interesting - Sue getting to be on a team where she doesn’t have to be the adult in the room and doesn’t have to work alongside the family.

It’s a similar reason to why I’d like to see adult Cyclops join the Avengers. He’s so tied in with X-stuff and being the leader of X-stuff that I want to take him out of that context and see a new side of him.

Spider-Woman and Black Widow also could have been interesting. They’ll both become Avengers later. I don’t know that Dazzler ever did and she presents interesting opportunities.

The Avengers have had Wonder Man who was also trying to break into acting while being an Avenger. So Dazzler trying to pursue her singing career might just be a retread of that but what if she were more successful and was a celebrity on the team.

The Avengers kind of are celebrities but I think it’d be a different feel if they had a famous (disco) singer on the team.

Interesting stuff (for me) to think about, anyway.

Something else to talk about is the creative credits. Jim Shooter is credited for plotting but Dave Michelinie as writer. And looking ahead, Shooter is not going to be the solo writer again in the near future.

I think we’re getting to the point where Shooter’s going to be too busy with EIC duties to keep up writing the Avengers. He’s going to get plotting credits for a few more issues, probably loose threads he’s handing to other writers.

So the second Shooter run is going to end soon. Shame. Very much a shame. It wasn’t a very long run but he put a lot of energy and humor into the book.

Next time: Egghead’s back and he’s bringing a new Masters of Evil. Wow, it’s been a while since we’ve had them and they’re supposed to be the Avengers’ evil opposite team.

And Egghead is the not very impressive criminal mastermind who couldn’t beat Hank Pym so instead framed him for crime. Hopefully the new Masters rise above that level of menace.

Follow @essential-avengers​ because I’m bringing you the She-Hulk content you crave. I assume. I took a poll and one out of one person said ‘this is the She-Hulk content I crave’ and I extrapolated from that. Also you should like and reblog because She-Hulk would want you to.

[radramblog]

Every Mono-Black Commander, Part 4: Designed for the Format

In what will be the penultimate edition of this weekly word stream, the cards steadily on average get better, as WoTC realises commander is the most popular format and starts designing specifically for the format. On the other hand, people don’t play lots of these cool and interesting cards because everyone’s obsessed with “multicolour”, the cowards.

Moving on.

Sidis, Undead Vizier (245 decks, 25th most played)

Sidisi is one of those cards I’m surprised sees as much play as it does. Not because it’s bad, but because it seems to belong a lot better in the 99 than in the zone- they’re pretty much just a tutor with a body attached, after all. For a while, though, it was the only commander you could run that was a pure tutor, so if you were into just comboing people out it’s probably not a bad idea.

I think part of the reason I underrate this card is that I always assume it’s 6 mana. And it’s a lot better at 5 than it is at 6. And you can always just sacrifice itself if you really want your commander to just be an overpriced Diabolic Tutor.

 Kothophed, Soul Hoarder (29 decks, 73rd most played)

I actually rate Kothophed a bit higher than I think most do. While as the 2nd of Lilliana’s demons he was obviously a fair bit weaker than the extremely banned Griselbrand, and the only one of the 4 not to be mythic, he does do a couple things really well.

For one, he draws a lot of cards. Things are going to the graveyard all the time, especially in multiplayer, and he makes the artifact/aristocrat decks think twice about popping off. The other is that he’s super cheap, at like 40 cents a pop. And I appreciate that, especially considering some of the cards surrounding him.

 Liliana, Heretical Healer//Liliana, Defiant Necromancer (645 decks, 9th most played)

Baby Lilli herself looks a lot better than Ob Nixilis of the Black Oath as far as Planeswalker commanders goes, and it’s therefore unsurprising that she breaks the top 10. Everybody loves Planeswalkers, lots of people like Lilliana both as a card and a character, and the card that puts her in the zone is quite solid.

What does she do, though? Well, of the 6 Creature->Planeswalker transform cards, she’s one of the three that can theoretically flip the turn you play her without a haste effect (and Nicol Bolas is only on that list by technicality, because that’s a loooot of mana), and it’s not particularly hard to do so considering the colour she’s in. She then protects herself a little with a Zombie token and acts as basically a multiplayer-tuned Lilliana of the Veil, with a bigger number on her plus and minuses that better suit commander. This lets her work quite well for discard decks, reanimator decks, aristocrats decks, zombie decks, and of course, Lilliana decks. She’s just really solid overall, making up somewhat for the fragility of walkers in the format by being cheap and making herself a blocker.

 Drana, Liberator of Malakir (82 decks, 49th most played)

Drana I guess could be used as a tribal or Voltron commander of some description, but to be frank, she’s here for one thing- aggro. Anthem effects are uncommon in black, and Drana just piles on so many counters in such an efficient manner that she kinda makes up for that on her own. I’ve actually never seen anyone piloting a Drana deck (of any of the three Dranas, actually), so I don’t know exactly how effective it is, but putting her at the helm of a stack of tokens or efficient threats just sounds scary. I’m pretty sure she’s only liberating Malakir from its remaining life points.

 Kalitas, Traitor of Ghet (124 decks, 38th most played)

Kalitas seeing this much play…actually frustrates me, seeing as he’s basically just a hate piece. Like yeah, he has another ability, and he makes tokens, but come on. You’re just playing this for the exile clause, and it’s never going to make you any friends. Headcrab Vampire over here doesn’t do anything much if your opponents just wait til he’s off the field to do anything spicy, and in that case, what are you doing with him? Very inefficiently voltronning up? Gaining 3 life? It’s a bit sad. I don’t really like him.

 Gonti, Lord of Luxury (550 decks, 11th most played)

Aww man, they’re not in the top 10 anymore? Fucking Tergrid.

Gonti is another card advantage commander, but everything on them lines up to make both a fun and a powerful effect. They’re not too expensive, and in addition to effectively drawing a card, deathtouch makes them a great way to dissuade attacks from other players. Their ETB not only acts as card selection, but it also gives you access to effects mono-black lacks, silver bullets you don’t play, or just surprise threats that vastly open up your options. They can whiff, sure, but that doesn’t happen especially often.

I’m biased, because my Gonti deck is among my favourite of my 100-card children, but Gonti is just such a fun commander that I don’t even mind the lack of direction they hand you. I run them as grindy valuey control, but they work great as the helm of flicker, theft, and even Aetherborn tribal decks as well. Just a stellar little commander.

 Yahenni, Undying Partisan (306 decks, 21st most played)

Speaking of Aetherborn, Yahenni is also here, and I really appreciate that the two Aetherborn commanders we got are both really cool both in game and in the lore. Shame about most of the rest of the tribe being draft trash. Also, WoTC brought all sorts of old tribes back into the limelight for Commander Legends and the Modern Horizons sets, so where are the new Aetherborn at? Wizards pls.

Yahenni themselves is a pretty interesting commander. Their effects combine into a powerful package more subtle than their flavour text suggests- they not only are a threatening body, as a hasty commander that grows significantly as the game progresses, but they’re also incredibly sticky- a free sacrifice outlet that protects itself from most removal. They’re just a card where all the pieces come together just right, and I appreciate that a lot. One job and that’s aristocrats, but they’re good at it!

 Bontu, the Glorified (59 decks, 57th most played)

When we finally got eyes on the Amonkhet gods, I think Bontu was my least favourite. Like, she’s hard to turn on, and has to be done repeatedly? A 3 mana 4/6 menace is a lot, but not enough to justify that in my opinion. And that activated ability is painfully mediocre.

At this point I like Kefnet less, but that’s just because I’ve cast him a bunch of times and I’m pretty sure he’s done nothing most of those times. Both of them are just kind of shithouse though. I expected more from the Magic equivalent of Set.

 Razaketh, the Foulblooded (74 decks, 54th most played)

The only thing foul about Razaketh is that mana cost. 8 mana, holy shit. But you get paid off for it, don’t ya? A free-ish sac outlet that, oh, also just demonic tutors. If you have an infinite combo in your deck, this’ll get it.

I wouldn’t be surprised if Razaketh decks therefore get focussed pretty hard once people recognize the power in the zone. Like, running him as a commander is basically saying “sup once I get to 8 mana y’all are fucked”, and in that case people are going to do all they can to stop you getting to 8 mana, whether by blowing up your rocks or just killing your face and dudes. Perhaps consider an alternate route if you don’t like getting beaten up.

 Spike, Tournament Grinder (N/A)

Aight, this is kinda cheating, but shshshsh it’s fine. Now, I’m not sure exactly how this works in the zone, but I’m just assuming it can get any “spikey” card that fits within your colour identity? Or maybe it’s just anything. Either way, this gets some bonkers shit.

Even if we assume it’s only legal commander cards in identity, Spike can still draw you some funny things. Dark Ritual, Crucible of Worlds, Bitterblossom, Demonic Tutor, Ancient Tomb, and that’s just the first page. If we do include commander-banned cards, then you can also use them as a spicy secret commander for such hits as Griselbrand, Emrakul, or Braids. Overall, they’re definitely fair and balanced. Un-Commanders when.

 Tetzimoc, Primal Death (15 decks, 86th most played)

Oh, Tetzy. I love this stupid stupid card, one that seems to get worse the bigger the decks get. And by that I mean, it’s completely stupid broken in its original draft format, fringe playable in Standard at the time (and by that I mean… I mean I played it), and thoroughly mediocre in Commander. And that’s in the 99, because much like Haakon and Phage he doesn’t work in the zone. He’s a fair bit easier to enable than they are, but it’s for much, much less payoff. Alas poor Tetzimoc.

 Demonlord Belzenlok (110 decks, 41st most played)

The last Lilliana contract demon, and the first Dominaria card of the 6 we got to talk about. Belzenlok’s ability is frustratingly awkward, however- while it will never draw you land, in my experience you’re rarely drawing more than two cards off it, and one is very common. Because the thing is, in order to support the dummy thick cards Belzenlok likes to see, you need a lot of cheap ramp and draw, which he does not like to see. And said ability takes up all the space on his textbox that could be used on other things. He’s basically okay, but I don’t see running this over basically any other demon.

I mean, he’s in my Gonti deck, but that’s besides the point, making a fatty and drawing cards is what that deck’s about.

 Josu Vess, Lich Knight (69 decks, 55th most played)

Lilliana’s dead brother is an army in a can that packs a mean punch- 20 menace power is absolutely nothing to sneeze at- but 10 mana is monstrous. And casting him for 4 is just not worth it, especially since it makes that 10 into 12 next time. With that said, I recall once a Dominaria draft on arena where I used Muldrotha to cast this guy kicked twice in a row, and while this might just be magical Christmas land, getting to reroll this guy repeatedly with Disentomb effects might be spicy. You can just bury people in Zombies, ain’t that fun? I mean, it’s still 10 mana, so that’s a lot, but yknow

I guess you can also sac the tokens to some variety of altar, but that’s boooooring.

 Torgaar, Famine Incarnate (99 decks, 44th most played)

Wait, if it’s Famine Incarnate, why is it an Avatar instead of an Incarnation?

I’m woefully unfamiliar with Torgaar, but it seems like a relatively effective general. It hits that 7 mark for a three-hit commander damage kill, while being able to cost as little as two mana, which is enough on its own- but  that chunky power also helps with that second ability, setting someone to 20, assuming other people are willing to help pick up the slack. Fuck your infinite life combo, back down to the ground with the rest of us.

Honestly, this guy just looks really fun. It’s nice that in a pinch you can just have them gain you up to 19 life (or more I guess if you’re Platinum Angel-ing), and they don’t seem broken enough to garner hate. Not bad, potentially underrated.

 Urguros, the Empty One (29 decks, 73rd most played)

On the other hand, I’m not sure why you’d pick this of all cards to head your deck. Looking at it, though, it’s mostly just Spectre tribal, which makes sense to me. Don’t think there’s another Legendary Spectre outside of changelings, though that would at least get you Blazing Spectre.

Shoutouts for Spectre being one of the words with different spelling in America that people don’t know about as well.

Urguros is not a powerful commander. They’re slow and their effect is weak. But if you’re running them, you don’t care about power, you care about creature type, and that’s fine too.

 Whisper, Blood Liturgist (150 decks, 33rd most played)

Oh, ok. blood liturgist.

Jokes aside, Whisper is more popular than I would have expected. Considering they’re basically reverse Victimize, I’m surprised that people are so into them when that card exists.

Ohh, wait, there’s probably a bunch of infinites with this and Thornbite Staff, huh. Yeahhh, that scans. Though even outside of combo bullshit, I bet they get a bunch of fun value stuff with army-in-a-can-type creatures like Abhorrent Overlord and Sengir Autocrat. Shame about the stats.

 Yargle, Glutton of Urborg (208 decks, 27th most played)

A literal vanilla creature, Yargle has overcome the odds to bargle into the hearts of many. The undeniable Best Frog Commander (Gitrog players do not interact), Yargle has clearly captured as many hearts as he’s eaten, considering he got his own Secret Lair filled with cards he can’t really play. His bit in the lore was also kind of hilarious, nearly killing all the protagonists until Muldrotha deus-ex-mythic rare-d him out of there.

The thing is, Yargle is not even that bad aside from the meme. He might be literally vanilla, butt he has 9 fucking power for 5 mana. He’s probably one of the cheapest creatures that breaches the 3-hit rule, and only needs 2 more to get down to 2. And 2 power isn’t super hard. Strap this bad boy with a sword or two and you can just gettem. Let alone the fact that he one-shots things with Tainted Strike. Or Grafted Exoskeleton. Or just about anything plus Fireshrieker. Unironically one of Mono-Black’s best Voltron options.

 Isareth the Awakener (30 decks, 70th most played)

Skipping the Battlebond cards because…who plays Virtus or Regna solo… brings us to the painfully mediocre Isareth. A 3 mana 3/3 that lets you cast one thing from your yard, and only if she risks her own life. And you still have to pay for the reanimate. And it gets the exile clause as well. Man, this was the same cycle as Goreclaw and Sai, too. Hell, I even like Lena more after I designed a deck around her. This just sucks. Like, I cannot imagine playing this over Chainer or something.

 The Haunt of Hightower (168 decks, 31st most played)

Speaking of Voltron, this Buy-a-Box exclusive is basically a self-sufficient beast of a flyer. Cards go into opponent’s graveyards all the time, and one mass mill effect makes this thing get huge fast as fuck. Add in lifelink so it keeps you going and all it’s really missing is the ability to protect itself, and there’re equipment for that.

On the other hand, it’s 6 mana and a 3/3 base, so if you aren’t able to get things in bins (or if a Rest in Peace/Leyline of the Void is out) it basically isn’t doing anything. And Flying is a much worse keyword in commander than one would think, being probably the most common Evasion mechanic. But I think this haunty boy is still solid.

 God-Eternal Bontu (81 decks, 48th most played)

If only the rest of us could age so gracefully. Er, die so gracefully, I guess. Zombie Set is kind of a beating, turning all sorts of useless shash into pure cash. And she can go to your deck if the zone is getting too costly, and she’s a cool crocodile zombie god.

Unfortunately, she does suffer from being an ETB-effect commander, which always feels a bit more mid than I’d like- they do their thing and then just…sit there… and unlike Gonti she doesn’t deter attacks that well. She does attack pretty alright herself, but it’s only 5 power and can’t even trade with two 3/3s. And it’s harder to fuel this all-or-nothing kind of ability repeatedly. There are a few (crocodile?) rocks to use, as well as chump creatures that crave death, but fill your deck with those and that’s all you’ll draw. It’s…fine. She’s fine.

 Massacre Girl (285 decks, 22nd most played)

The final card under the magnifying glass today, and probably still the best boardwipe/commander combo. Massacre Girl basically just kills everything, provided things aren’t too massive and there’s fodder around to bite the dust first. If anyone played Hearthstone back when I did, she’s basically a way, way better Defile.

Wait, that’s also a Magic name now isn’t it, shit.

I still think the notorious M.G. goes better in the deck than the zone, but I suppose control decks would appreciate having one of the things they crave most- board clears- available at a moment’s notice. And if you’re building around her, then you can fill your deck with the fodder that fuels her best. But I’m not sure where you win from there.

Ehhh, probably just Revel in Riches.

This brings us to the end of this edition of Black Commanders, and to the start of 2019. Which means the remaining 21 cards all came out in the last 2.5 years, which speaks a lot to how much they were designing cards for commander, and how many sets they’ve been coming out with. Until then.

[steve0discusses]

The Live Action Fullmetal Alchemist Movie Part 6: Let’s Kill Hughes

Hey guys, I’ve been having some issues with the blog not...updating my drafts. So in case you’re wondering, that’s where I disappeared to. Give a round of applause to the support team for finding a solution until it gets fixed but as of right now I’m on like a private window with my extensions turned off and writing this from both tumblr and a LibreOffice document. Hello ads, nice to see you back.

Last we left off, we were a hop and skip away to lab 5. In the anime, this was a sequence where there was a bunch of fighting with suits of armor, and they kept that in this movie, but...not the people you think would be fighting are going to be fighting.

Listen I’m not like super knowledgeable about the world of Matte painting, but I like that they’ve unintentionally made this world building where whoever is in charge of making these red bricks basically owns everyone’s nuts. Everything is made out of the same red bricks. Like I know this is a show about homunculi ruling the world but I feel like the red brick guy is hellllllla more egregious. Freakin Monsanto over here.

I assume they had a 3d model and was like “we can just keep using it” and damn, they sure did. And inside of this brick building is, unsurprisingly a lot more red brick (although I think this is partially, if not entirely, an actual real life set.)

This next part is...such a lesson in pacing. Not necessarily a lesson to follow, but definitely a lesson to learn from maybe their non-example.

(watch Hughes die under the cut)

And what’s interesting is that there were a lot of good lines in this upcoming segment. There were a lot of good moments—bu there’s just so many. Maybe too many. You gotta prune your script occasionally, it’s like a tomato plant.

Like I’ve been doing a stress garden to cope with quarantine and Covid and 3+ months of life endangering wildfires, and I learned that you gotta prune the sucker vines off your tomatoes, although sucker vines can also make tomatoes. It sucks to do because I love tomatoes, and I want as many tomatoes as possible, but when you prune the plant, you get bigger better tomatoes that are more worthwhile than the suckers that can infect your plant and make it really sick.

Sorry that made me sound like 5000 years old with that gardening analogy. If you need me to solve your small town murder mysteries, I’m ready.

So it’s like...kind of tragic that it came together as kind of nonsensical when you can tell that it’s so close to being something better.

Like we have some reason up to this point to believe that Ed would have a freak out here...but like...a sobbing on the floor screaming at the walls type of freak out? Was there enough time devoted to this blow up, or did he walk into this room and immediately start screaming? Because he sure did walk immediately into this room and start screeching like a broken bird.

Like last recap, which was about 2 minutes ago in screentime, was this fun and quirky montage with Hughes. Now we’re sobbing into this rusty factory.

And I know what’s going on because I’ve seen the anime, but if you haven’t seen it—would this emotional break down make any sense? We were told by Dr Marcoh, “check out lab 5,” but we were only going to this factory on kind of a wish and a prayer. I really wonder if people who don’t know this show could follow past this point.

And then while we’re still adjusting to “yo, Ed just took it from a 2 to a 10 like immediately” Al is like “Hey I noticed no one is paying attention to me, and I have to lay a wicked fart:”

and then both brother’s just have a freak out. Gotta all be freaking out in this random ass Unity asset that was probably also used for some college grad’s first battle royale.

Pacing is just everything. And what’s SO HARD about Full Metal Alchemist is that there really is a lot of content to cover, there’s a lot of emotions to go through, and when you only have about 7 minutes to cover what was about 3-4 episodes, if I remember correctly, it’s kind of a zany mess.

And if you were going into this movie hoping they wouldn’t illustrate Al as a large idiot baby, then you share the sentiments of most people who saw this movie. Al is like...kind of reduced to a whiny big baby and is...not cute. Like Al is low key kind of menacing throughout this movie, not just because he has this CGI armor thing going on, but also because Al is...so impressionable and unhinged.

Something that I didn’t appreciate enough when I watched the anime was just how important Barry the Chopper was for Al’s logical character development.

Yo...These bangs…

...I’ve realized that every show I recap here just has the worst hair styles. I honestly never thought much about hair at all until I watched like 200 hours of Yugioh and all of this movie and also 6 seasons of Once Upon a Time which featured some LOOKS (but only recapped like 3 episodes, sorry if I got some of y’all excited. That was when we had no reason to cap everything because the capping community for Once was very alive and very exciting.)

By hitting him with a wrench (Al does not feel pain, ps, so he doesn’t need to be hunched over like this) Winry reminds Al that Ed would not risk his life for a fake brother (which may be a line from the anime or the manga but I don’t remember) and crying just...a lot.

Like it felt as if she had to shoot all of this out of order. Same with Ed’s freak out here. Movie’s aren’t really shot in succession and it’s up to the director to make it feel coherent and logical...this felt scattered, like the actors really didn’t know what was happening in the scenes leading up to it so they just cranked it to 11.

And then I guess Ed was either so insulted that Al punched him or was so upset that Al made Winry cry (again, this movie really tries to sell the EdxWinry ship and from me that’s a really big compliment), that Ed just started laying punches to extend a fight scene that was kind over before it started.

But symbolically there is a lot nice things going on here, Ed only uses his fleshy hand so he bleeds all over Al, hurting himself as much he’s hurting his brother. Implying more than just this fight, but suggesting that their whole journey of trying to find this sorcerer’s stone is just going to hurt both of them in their quest to save the other.

And then Al says something along the line of “it hurts!” to infer that he’s got this broken heart which is when they both finally just freakin stop.

Such a shame the pacing, which was a mix of too quick, and too many tomatoes, kind of made it hella blindsiding.

Again this was so many episodes of FMA and they stuffed it into so few minutes, it’s wild.

Especially since Ed is like...he’s cast as an adult! He’s an adult! At no point in the movie so far have they called him a kid, and they’re not pretending that he is one. But like...he acts like such a child because in the original, he was one. And, while this movie steps so far away from the source material, if should have committed and either stepped completely away or committed completely. Of course “should” is one of those things where we’ll just never know. A wish into the ether of hindsight being 20/20.

But lets get to the thing that you all came here for. This is where this movie gets BONKERS:

So Hughes actually draws out a pentagram between the different places in Armestrias, including Ishvaal, leading us to think that he’s figured out the whole dealio of turning the country into an alchemy circle. But, for some reason only helps him find the real lab 5.

It didn’t...that’s a different thing.

And it has been a long time since I’ve seen the ending of this movie—and maybe it was so offhand that I forgot if they actually do bring up turning the country into an alchemy circle--watch me eat my words, it could happen—but yo, we are finally killing Hughes—but we’re over halfway through this movie. And you may wonder...so uh...what...then what could possibly happen? There’s too much anime left!

Now I’m glad they kept this scene really close to the anime, although I haven’t watched the anime in a hot minute. It’s kind of an iconic scene so you don’t forget.

Like I do genuinely enjoy the campy parts where they were bringing up some of my favorite nostalgia of the original.

and then when you are like “ah, this is exactly the same as the anime. I can relax and watch as all my expectations are fully realized.” This twist happens.

YAH.

It’s a change!

So in the anime we had a really fun arc where we were trying to save Lieutenant Ross for being framed for killing Hughes. It’s probably my favorite part of Full Metal Alchemist, actually, it was so clever and a really thrilling chase. It was also like...half of season one.

Anyway, they cut it. They reduced half a season into 7 minutes. I know that, because each of these recaps is about 15 minutes of the movie.

You may look at this recap and be like “wait...this all happened in 15 minutes??” because yeah, this all happened in 15 minutes.

The same squad of people we see in every single scene of soldiers comes up to arrest Ed, which is weird, because I thought this band of soldiers was the military under Cl. Mustang’s command so like…shouldn’t they be arresting themselves? Mustang was over the command of more than 2 people. If we are suspicious of Mustang’s buddies then everyone in this movie would be in trouble.

And that’s when I realized that these guys were just unnamed soldiers and not a part of Mustang’s band. They only had like this many extras and just hoped we wouldn’t keep track of who is who, but I KNOW I’ve seen these guys this whole time. There are only like 6 people in this army. I see you movie magic—I see what you’re trying to do.

Anyway, Ed gets thrown into an old timey opera house that occasionally gets to be used for Middle School graduations. Or maybe also a mortuary where they charge you for funerals.

Like I know it’s supposed to be the capital building but like...this looks so weird when it’s live action. I remember the anime had this kinda feel to it but in live action it’s like…

...this is a weird ass capital building…Why do they have curtains like a Granny Holiday Inn in Reno, Nevada?

Thankfully, Hawkeye is here to explain to Ed what just happened because we, the movie viewers, were kind of surprised by that plot twist.

Like there were many ways you can condense half a season into 15 minutes, and I dunno if I would have just changed the murderer. It is a solution you can do. You can just point blame on Mustang and skip that whole Ross segment but like….

…then why write the movie?

Obviously, they had to make the movie, it had already been funded, people were really excited about the idea, and I do not envy the people that had to hack and slash with the Full Metal Alchemist script, but it is interesting what they decided was important to the original content, and what was unimportant. All that stuff that showed how Mustang was brilliant and two steps ahead of everyone else? Unimportant. All that stuff we had that showed how Mustang cares a lot about protecting other people and also cares about Ed and Al? Unimportant.

It really changes the dynamic, and it’s kind of fascinating to go into this cold because it’s been like...a year for me since I’ve watched it...and just see how different everything is without all those supporting characters that when I watched the anime I just assumed were mostly useless (Though fun). Turns out they all had a pretty significant part of making me care about Ed, about Mustang, about Al, about all my main characters.

FMA is very character driven, and this movie is mostly just...plot driven.  There’s kind of a great debate in literature about plot driven vs character driven. Movies and TV tend to be very plot driven, because they are very expensive to make, so they follow pre-formatted plot beats like “Save the Cat” or “The Heroes Journey” and other ones (there’s several to choose from).

They’ve made a fine science out of at what point a TV show should introduce the main, at what point they should suffer doubt, at what point they should shun their hero’s journey, etc etc. They know it down to the page number of the scripts they are writing. I know this, because it’s readily available on the internet and people fight about it all the time. This is why a show may suffer developing a character—because they just don’t have time and they just don’t have the resources to do something out of the box. Movies doubly so, because every minute of film can cost thousands of dollars.

What’s interesting about this is that FMA, the original FMA, does follow these beats. It was a manga sold by a huge publisher so it had to follow those beats. But, it has managed to do it while still being character driven. Yo, that’s so hard to do. This story was already written to be hyper condensed and structured when it was made into a Manga, and then it was condensed again for an anime, and then it was condensed yet again for this movie. It’s like a game of telephone, and at one end you have a very character driven story, and then at the other, it’s just totally plot.

Like it’s just a really huge risk to take. This was really, really risky.

PS did you miss Shou? Did you think we’d be done with Shou Tucker? No. Because this movie is gonna end at some point and rather than introduce other people...we’re just gonna stick with Shou and only have one miniboss.

(It has a freakin radiator in it?)

So then this next part happens and it’s low key hilarious.

The whole time.

Mustang and Hawkeye knew what lab 5 was this entire time but Ed just never asked for some reason despite working with those two for what is inferred to be YEARS since his childhood.

Hey PS, did you miss that brick building? Because it’s back.

Anyway, Mustang decides to take this underground where we can recycle the tech crew posing as extras that we used in the shot above us. Would not be surprised if a few of these are someone’s husband or wife on set.

Usually when I watch a movie I don’t get this feeling so much. But this movie...the latter half is like...EMPTY.

...this is going to be all movies made during Covid, I just realized…

Mustang is stopped by an angry Lieutenant Ross, and then we get this series of events.

And when you’re like “...Sorry?” Mustang’s like “I can make it weirder.”

And he just, without any warning or anything, lights Lieutenant Ross on fire. Multiple times, and it’s pretty intense and everyone who’s holding a gun just watches it happen is like…

...well I guess it’s too late to just shoot the guy...

…and like do you seriously not carry around a fire extinguisher when you are trying to manhunt Mustang? This is the one guy you want to wear fireproof clothes around. You have the technology. You at least have the technology for buckets of water. Like no one want to throw a blanket on her?

Just want to...watch? I guess?

Mustang just looks like a nut from this series of events instead of a genius--which is what I think they were originally going for. The pacing does that, youknow? Pacing.

And, out of the corpse pile stands Envy.

Envy has a pretty good look, I appreciated his whole look and that unlike the anime where you only find out Envy is a guy because someone told you on a forum somewhere and you were like “wait WHAT?” the movie is live action so you won’t make that mistake and embarrass yourself online.

Ed has only ever seen Lust once, and she walked in from off screen, stabbed a guy, and walked off. He’s just like...having a time because he’s done zero research into homunculi, and really, at no point in this movie are we going to give him time to figure it out.

Also, there’s this shot where Lust and Gluttony just walk in from behind them in the tunnel and it’s like…

….so no one noticed these two just hanging out back there?

It’s so freakin funny. This movie is gold. I love it.

Now If you just got here, this is a link to read all these recaps in chrono order:

https://steve0discusses.tumblr.com/tagged/fma/chrono

Have a good one, and stay safe! 2021 has been...weird nuts...and it’s still January somehow??? Weird times. Overall, please stay safe, it’s weird out there.

Also, if you’re like “I don’t remember this scene actually” here’s the original Hughes dies scene that inspired the movie (since the movie definitely was like “we’re only going inspired for this one nerds, get mad”)--some shots were inspired cut for cut.

And obvi this is on Youtube so it’ll probably get taken down eventually, but that’s why it’s flipped.

[moonamite]

Chapter 12

It was early morning, and the town was already thriving. Young Stelluses in the street, laughing and playing. If Kirby had grown up here, with people like himself... would he have been better off that way? Meta Knight pondered. With his mother? Well, knowing how his supposed mother is, he doubted it. Cashew nudged him. “You ok?” He asked, looking concerned. “Ah- I’m fine, thank you.” Meta Knight responded. Cashew seemed unconvinced. “Are you sure you don’t want some food?” He asked again. “Y’know, whenever I’m feeling down, a nice snack always helps.” He added, twitching his antennae. Skies above, Meta Knight thought, He really does only think about food. Scarlet was up ahead, bouncing excitedly down the street. “What’s up with you?” Cashew asked, amused. “Oh, nothing.” Scarlet replied casually. “I’m only about to meet the BEST ARTIST in the whole world!” She squealed, smiling ear-to-ear. “Really?” Meta Knight asked. “And who’s that?” Scarlet suddenly whirled around, almost smacking into Cashew, who shouted in surprise. “’Who’s that’?” She scoffed, dumbfounded. “Exquisite, obviously!” “I’ve never heard of her, sorry.” Meta Knight said, shrugging. Scarlets jaw dropped. “Exquisite is the most talented, most AMAZING person in the world!” She cried. “Well, you know- besides Diamond.” She added, fidgeting with the ring around her finger. “Is Diamond...” He said hesitantly. “Is Diamond your wife?” Scarlet nearly jumped a mile. “What!?” She shrieked, her wings fluttering frantically. “N-no! We’re not- CLEARLY we- It’s not-” She stuttered and stumbled over her words. “Calm down!” Meta Knight said apologetically, raising his talons in the air. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have assumed anything.” Scarlet sighed, “N-no, i’m fine. I’m fine!” She insisted, a little too quickly. “I mean- Yeah we’re close and I couldn’t imagine a world without her and her eyes are gorgeous and she’s amazingly perfect in every way and-” Cashew cut off her flustered rambling, raising his wing to shush her. “Ok, we get it.” He sighed. Scarlet’s face was redder than the shiniest ruby. I get it. Meta Knight thought. I know exactly how she feels... That kind of feeling when you’re with the only person in the world who matters, and suddenly anything feels possible. But that person wasn’t with him now. He was on his own.  Scarlet tucked in her wings and continued walking, now completely silent. Kirby looked up to Cashew. “Do you have any more of those tasty things?” He asked, looking up with pleading eyes. Cashew laughed. “You’re gonna have to be a little more specific, kiddo.” He said, smiling. “Those sticky sweet things?” Kirby continued, still keeping his begging eyes. “Oooooh, the Honey-bites! Good choice.” He said, pausing to look into his sack of snacks. Scarlet shook her head and sighed. “I see you two boys have something in common.” She chuckled. “Mmmmmfff?” Kirby and Cashew said in unison, their mouths stuffed with food. Scarlet laughed, and even Meta Knight chuckled a little. “Heyyyyyy... Wait a minute!” Scarlet said, pointing a claw at Cashew. “You said you only got snacks for yourself while you were on your little ‘break’!” She said in an accusatory tone. Cashew gulped. “Umm...” He said, looking for an excuse. “I’ll give you some of mine if you promise not to tell Grandeur?” He suggested, wincing. “Too late.” Said a voice behind them. Grandeur landed, adorning her usual bored expression. “Cashew, you Moon-eyed, Dust-snorting, feather-head.” Grandeur grumbled, shaking her head. “Why am I not surprised?” Cashew raised his talons. “Can you blame me?” He whined. “They were on sale! How’s a guy supposed to ignore an opportunity like that?” He complained. Grandeur’s face scrunched up awkwardly, as if trying not to smile. “Idiot.” She sighed. “It’ll be a miracle if all that food doesn’t attract seagulls.” “What’s so bad about a couple of seagulls?” Scarlet asked. “What’s the worst they can do?” Grandeur’s face became dead serious. “Oh, you have no idea.” She said gravely. She lifted up a talon. “Well, they’re a nuisance to fly around,” She listed, counting with her claws. “Trying to get them to go away is like swatting flies,” she continued, “And worst of all! Those little sand-brained scavengers will stop at nothing to get a beak-full of your food.” She scowled as she finished. “I can keep them away!” Kirby squeaked. “Really?” Grandeur snorted. “You don’t look very intimidating.” Don’t be fooled by his looks, Grandeur. Meta Knight warned silently. “I can be super intimidating!” He whined. “Watch!” He scrunched up his face, trying to look as serious and as menacing as possible. “See? Grrrrrr!” He growled. Grandeur couldn’t hold in her laugh. Whenever she laughed, it was like a bark that slowly turned into a wheeze. Sometimes it sounded like Dedede’s laugh- Dammit Meta Knight, STOP THINKING ABOUT HIM, YOU MOON-EYED MESS. “Amazing.” Grandeur said, recovering from her laughing fit. “And if all else fails, we can use Eclipse’s heroically tragic face to scare off everyone within a mile.” She joked, jabbing Meta Knight with her elbow. “Grandeur, be nice.” Cashew warned. “Even if you do have a point.” Scarlet added. “He’s a guy of many conflicted faces. Is he sad? Bored? About to vomit? We’ll never Know.” Grandeur agreed. I can’t be that hard to read... though I suppose I do wear my mask everywhere back at home, don’t I? “Hey, don’t go eating all our food!” Cashew said to Kirby. “Oh, quit being a dust-snorter.” Grandeur huffed. “You got enough food to feed this town for a month.” She said, rolling her eyes. “Or rather, enough to feed you for 2 hours.” She snorted. “Whaaat.” Cashew said as Scarlet giggled. Scarlet looked up. “I wonder where Diamond is.” She wondered out loud. “You mean your one true love Diamond? The oh-so amazingly wonderful Diamond? I bet she’s on her daring mission, barely managing to survive the dreaded grocery store.” Grandeur said dramatically, making Scarlet blush. “Hey, those lines are no joke!” she added. “Lot’s of crying Stellings and impatient old geezers in the waiting lines.” Grandeur said. “Well, what are we all standing around for?” Scarlet said impatiently. “Let’s go check up on her!”

[scone-lover]

@findingniamho​

HAHAHAHA thank you so much for this ask!!! ❤️ This is exciting. Honestly the Egghead fight was one of the most entertaining scenes to write. (Coming up with all the puns was an egg-celent time.) Rereading it just now was like an out of body experience 😂 

Link to the original chapter here - passage & commentary below the cut!

So I have to start with how this scene was born. This is a Simon scene. He’s had a couple fight scenes with Vampire, but I wanted to show him off as the superhero of the city. What was he doing before Vampire appeared on the scene? What are his strengths and weaknesses? Despite the scene’s silliness, it’s also one of the first where we start to get a sense of what Mayor Mage is up to. 

So I knew I wanted him to do the typical defending-the-city thing, and showcase him and Penny as the dread companions power duo.

Besides the plot stuff, my main goal was to make this scene as ridiculously, stereotypically comic book-ish as possible. 😂Hence, Egghead the Villain.

Most of the credit for Egghead goes to my friend -- they’re really into DC and helped me with a lot of the plot stuff in this fic and making things semi-realistic. (Every time you read a clever plot point, it was probably them. 😂) For this non-Vampire fight, my friend suggested a gangster who was doing crimes and bribing the police. Hence this exchange--

“Okay, okay, um-- fuck. Did you call the police?” She huffs. “Yes, and I think they’ve been fucking bribed, because they pretended they didn’t even know who Egghead was! Can you believe that?”

I made him a repeat villain because honestly, I just thought it was more compelling that way. They know who he is already, Simon can grumble about him, they have egg-themed quips at the ready, etc. 😂 

As for the name, Egghead. I love how it came together because Simon is a baker, and I was able to work a couple baking jokes in there eventually. But in reality, it was me begging my superhero expert friend (named t below) to help me out with crafting this villain and coming up with some witty exchanges. A transcript of our conversation with the brainstorming and some of the rejects--

t: the gangster has a nickname right? he has to if he’s a supervillain t: make it a gimmick t: like if he has a red outfit call him mr. red or something t: he has a flamethrower and call him dragon (this made it in, later) me: Vampire already has a flamethrower t: they can be forced to fight him together me: Vampire is at home studying bc he’s a NERD t: ok he can be bald and simon can call him egghead me: THANKS I HATE IT t: simon throws him on the ground at the end of the fight - that was over-easy me: I hate you where do you get this shit t: I mean it’s typical superhero stuff t: he wears yellow and white and deals crack me: This fic is so food themed I love it t: that’s your villain. that’s it. t: listen, if the Flash can have an ice skating villain, YOU CAN HAVE EGGHEAD. And he was born.

(And yes, The Flash does have an ice skating villain. AND SHE DOESN’T EVEN HAVE ICE POWERS.)

Okay, let’s do this! Warning that this is definitely going to go through more than 500 words of the chapter. 😂 

Men dressed in black suits with bright yellow pocket squares. And larger men around the perimeter, wearing grey and holding flashlights. It looks more like a business transaction than anything; there are briefcases and money being passed back and forth, hands being shaken. “Hey!” I call. There are six men, and they all turn to stare at me, and then make a run for it. The flashlight beams dart wildly and I hear a few of them clatter to the floor. Everyone starts yelling at once and looking for an escape.

I basically watched an episode of Brooklyn-99 and crafted the warehouse drug deal based on that. 

“Don’t move. There’s only one exit,” Penny says in my ear. “And you’re standing in front of it.” I stand my ground, but no one comes near me. The suited guys stay slightly behind the muscular ones. Finally, one of them steps forward. “Mage’s Head Boy. Come to tell us off?”

This scene was also an opportunity to have Penny in Simon’s ear! I wanted them to work together more closely than just talking about superhero stuff - I wanted Penny to be invaluable to Simon’s superhero success and in on the action, too. She’s kind of modeled after Oracle from Batman throughout this fic. 

Mage’s Head Boy is a pretty transparent CO reference. 

There are times when I’m grateful for my ability to just have muscles and growl at people and make them disappear, and there are times when I wish I was witty like Vampire. This is definitely the second. I can’t think of a response to that. Luckily, I have a best friend with a head full of wit. “Tell them to fuck off,” Penny says. Then again, maybe not. What would Vampire say? I get hot and frustrated in the face of danger. He seems to get cooler the higher the stakes get. I fall into a fighting stance. “You wish.” The guy takes a step backwards. “But since I can’t bring you to the police, I suppose I’ll just have to teach you a lesson.” “That was good,” Penny says in my ear.

I obviously had to work a bit of Baz jealousy / crushing into this. I like the idea of Penny being super blunt. She’s smart and sometimes witty, but more often she just says it like it is. “Cooler the higher the stakes get” was a direct reference to the similar line in Carry On. With Simon’s last line - this scene was all about showcasing him as a “typical” superhero that you’d find in a comic, fighting a classic comic book villain. So I gave him one of those cheesy lines.

I’m surrounded. There must be fifteen or twenty of them. Eight huge muscular guys, and the rest in suits. They form a loose circle around me. Almost all of them wield knives, but I don’t see any guns so far.

I knew from the outset I wanted this to be a one-against-many fight. At this point in the story I’d set up a good dynamic for Blade vs Vampire, but not so much Blade vs. other city threats. What makes him a trustworthy hero? Simon’s origin story is that he got news attention by fighting off a group - so putting him in this group fight setting was a chance for him to shine.

A man steps out from the shadows. He’s bald, with a straight, dark mustache, and he’s wearing a pristine white suit and a shirt the colour of an egg yolk. “Egghead,” I say in what I hope is a threatening tone. The name sounds absurd. I’m glad the mask covers my mouth, because I don’t think I can keep a straight face. Penny coughs. Benedict Eggerton, better known as Egghead, is a drug lord who wears yellow and deals… crack. (I know.) (He got into crime early; his parents were poachers.) (Okay, I made that one up. I can’t help it.) I put him in jail earlier this year, but he escaped and fled north.

I was laughing so hard while writing this. You can see in the text exchange above where the suit and nickname came from. I was trying to come up with what his first name might be (my first idea was Sunny). I was so amused when I finally thought of Benedict. 😂 The poachers line is also from my friend T, and the “north” is a reference to Scotland, which comes back later as the Scotch Egg joke.

I draw my weapon, trying to look as menacing as possible. “I remember your blade being bigger,” he says, eyeing my kitchen knife. “Is it too cold for you in here?”

PFFFFFT I LOVE THIS JOKE okay so. I originally made Simon forget his sword because I thought the fight would be too easy - and going back to what I said above, he’s kind of returning to his “roots” with this fight - that spark he has that makes him a hero. And then I wrote the line “I remember your blade being bigger.” TO BE CLEAR, this was not originally intended as an innuendo. 

And then my friend said something like ‘he should turn up the heating in this warehouse then’, and I was like OH DING DING DING PENIS JOKE! 😂I’m oblivious sometimes. I’m glad I realized in time because this is honestly one of my favorite villain lines I’ve ever written.

I really, really wanted to give the “too cold” line to Vampire. It would be perfect for him. But Simon always has his normal sword with Vamp, so Egghead it was. And he instantly became an icon. 😂 

I twirl the knife between my fingers. “I can crack you anyway.” “Good effort,” Penny whispers. “But a bit rough on the delivery. 'Take a crack at you' might have been better...” “Sword or no sword,” I continue, “you’ll be an egg wash by the end of this.” “What?” Penny says. “Is that a baking reference?” Egghead cracks his knuckles, and his men rush me.

Much like Penny does later in the scene, I had a tab open of egg-related words up while writing this. I had to work in the baking reference. But a terrible one. There’s a French term for whisking eggs that basically translates to “beating eggs into snow” - and I wish it was a thing in English, because, you know, Simon Snow. Oh well. 😂 

I Google a list of ways to make eggs. Simon needs to win this fight, but more importantly, he needs to get some egg-themed one-liners in there to show them who’s boss. Chances like this don’t come around very often. 

Listen, Penny is very dedicated. I love the idea of heroes just being quick-witted and coming up with these ridiculous quips on demand. But ultimately, I thought it was funnier - and more in character for Penny - to do this. (Even though her Superhero name is Quickwit, oops.) She has the world of Google at her disposal. Egg puns may not seem important, but superhero image and reputation is half the battle.

Simon is being attacked from all angles, but he fights like a whirlwind. The bulky guys attack first, mostly with their fists. Simon kicks their legs out from under them. He throws them across the floor like they weigh nothing. “Behind you!” I say. Simon spins around and disarms the man behind him, twisting his arm, and I hear a shout through my earbuds. He grabs the guy’s knife and kicks him in the stomach, sending him sprawling. Simon Snow faces fifteen men with nothing but two knives, looking like he’s ready to explode.

I loved writing this from Penny’s POV. I am used to writing fight scenes from the POV of the person fighting, so this was definitely a cool challenge. It’s part of why I brought Penny into the scene in the first place - so I could show Simon in third person. Almost like we’re watching a movie and getting some overhead shots. From his POV, you don’t realize quite how awesome he is. So getting to showcase him like this was really fun.

I still have to wonder how Shepard knew… well, everything. 

Don’t tell anyone but I didn’t know yet either

“He’s Scottish,” I tell Simon. “Scotch Egg.”

I know. This one’s bad.

He’s a blur of gold and white in motion. He throws his knife—I have no idea where he learned to do that—and it embeds itself in one of the men’s legs. He rolls across the floor, picking up two more discarded knives.

I don’t do a ton of plotting/outlining with fight scenes, but one thing I decide in advance is where and how everyone gets hurt. I didn’t want Simon to win the fight too easily, but I did need to injure him somehow. So it wouldn’t be too easy, but also to serve as a counterpoint to the socks thing later.

I watched a lot of action sequences to write this fic, especially with the trickier one vs. many scenes. 

Simon tosses him like a sack of flour.

Couldn’t resist the baker!Simon reference.

“Hard or soft boiled,” I whisper. “Which way is it gonna be, Egghead? Hard or soft boiled?” Simon shouts. He whispers to me, “That was stupid.” Egghead raises an eyebrow. “Last chance to leave us alone, Blade.” I consult my list of egg dishes. “Give up before you get scrambled.” Simon twirls his blades. I love it when he does that; he looks like Deadpool. “It’s your last chance to surrender before you get scrambled.”

I loved the hard or soft boiled line at first. And then I wrote it down and said it out loud, just to check, and it sounded SO DUMB. 😂I almost took it out, but then figured—Simon is probably not going to think this through, either.

Maybe the Deadpool line was a bit on the nose here, but I wanted to give readers some really vivid imagery of what Simon looks like right now with these dual wicked blades kitchen knives.

“I prefer my eggs… poached,” he says. 

Even though Egghead has turned out to be quite a serious villain—there are guns, drugs, and a backstory—he is, after all, original master of the egg puns. He would never turn down this opportunity.

Egghead scrambles (ha) to his feet

I think Penny is just me in this.

“Over-easy,” I whisper.

“That was over-easy,” he says.

Not my best. But it had to be in there.

I’ll skip the serious bits, since the plot there is pretty self-explanatory, to this:

I wish he’d asked what we serve, because I have so many egg puns at the ready. Eggs-ecution. Hash-ing out justice. Karma served hard.  

My beta ashspren gave me this line, and I could not be more grateful. Imagine the chapter without this. It would be a shame.

Here are a few egg puns that didn’t make the cut, SADLY:

You're washed out, egghead

*Egghead gets angry* hey, it was just a yolk

I had to go "beat" some eggs

*uppercut* Sunny side UP!

I'll bash in your Eggnoggin’

Some people are just bad eggs

Sorry this is so long—this has been a purely self-indulgent experience. Thanks so much for this ask, I really enjoyed writing this and I hope you like it! ❤️ 

[plasticdean]

stone cold - chapter 1

honor & whiskey

mob!dean-charles chapman au warnings: strong language, violence, drinking, smoking, mentions of abuse word count: 1.6k series masterlist

“Okay, when you’re ready just turn the safety off, take a deep breath, and-”

“Dad, I know how to shoot a fucking gun,” I said annoyed, instantly pulling the trigger and hitting the target right in the neck. 

Dad sighed and walked up to the rubber dummy target and shook his head, “why the fuck would you shoot him in the neck? Do you know how messy and unnecessary that is?”

I shrugged and stared at the dummy, “it gets the job done.”

My dad shook his head and walked over to me, putting his finger directly in my face, “No, what it does is it causes a fucking crime scene for you and then you’re putting everything at risk. You, the family, and our business.” 

I didn’t even listen to a word he was saying, all I could think about was the feeling of my fist hitting him right in the nose, knocking him right the fuck out. 

“You’re not even fucking paying attention,” My dad ripped the gun out of my grip and put it back in his holster, “You need to take this seriously, I’ve got your fucking grandfather up my ass talking about how you’re not ready and he doesn’t think you’ll ever be ready.”

I scoffed, “I’m fucking ready. I’ve been ready. You guys act like I just started learning all of this when I really I’ve been a part of it since I was little, but you wouldn’t know that.” My dad just looked at me timidly then turned around and walked back to the house as I smirked to myself.

Bringing up the past, more specifically, bringing up instances on how he did a really shit job “raising” me was my favorite thing to do. He never cared if I walked in on him beating the shit out of someone and on school nights I’d fall asleep at night to the sound of yelling, shit breaking, and gunshots. Father of the fucking century, right?

Everything I do is usually just to spite him. 

___________________

After the “disappearance” of my mother, my dad claimed that she ran away and abandoned me but I always knew that was a load of bullshit. Other people in town knew it was a load of bullshit too but they’d never try and go snitch or talk shit about the big bad Leo Stone, that’s just suicidal.

By my douchebag of a grandfather’s constant demanding, my dad ended up getting my last name legally changed to ‘Stone’. But because I love being a dickhead, right as I turned 18, I went through the long and torturous process of changing it back to Chapman. 

This, of course, went super well with both my dad and grandpa. 

“YOU FUCKING DID WHAT?”

“Dean, you better be fucking joking.”

I put my hands in my pockets and shrugged at my dad, “I’m not. Why does it matter? Can I not keep my mother’s last name to honor her?”

“Honor her?? She fucking abandoned you, Dean!” My grandpa said in a scolding tone. 

My whipped over to where he was standing, I clenched my jaw and tilted my head, “I think we all know she didn’t fucking abandon me,” I hissed back at him. The hatred I felt for him coursed through my body as I felt my blood boil. 

He walked over to me in a menacing way and looked down at me, “and what is that supposed to mean?” He asked me condescendingly. 

I stared back into his dark and cold eyes, not backing down, “did you help him? Or were you the mastermind behind it all and he was just your bitch?”

My grandpa chuckled at me, my eyebrows raised as I was trying to figure out what the fuck was so funny until he slammed me into the bookshelf behind me and wrapped his hand around my neck, “You better learn some god damn respect and remember who the fuck you’re talking to. I suggest you quit running that mouth because only bad things will happen. Get your head out of your ass and step the fuck up because soon, you’ll be the one running things and I swear to god if you fuck up what I worked so hard to build, I will fucking kill you myself.” 

I wish I could just put this fucker in a nursing home and let him rot there.

 ___________________

It was always expected that I was going to take over the “Family business” but I kind of expected to do it before I was 22, my dad was only 18 when he took charge. Honestly, I think my dad and grandpa just don’t trust me, I don’t blame them. 

Fuck them and fuck the family business. 

Today though, on my 22nd birthday, my present is taking over this absolute shit show business from my father. I wish I could get it in one of those big ass red bows. 

All I physically got was a copy of a contract I signed and an awkward handshake from my dad, grandpa, and a couple of other guys that bored the shit out of me with information about my duties and priorities and a bunch of other crap that I couldn’t care less about. 

My dad got glasses for all of us and poured in a bit of whiskey in each glass and handed them out and began to speak as the room went quiet.

“Dean, I’ve been waiting for this day for a long time. Ever since you were young I could see this spark in you that made me feel like you could bring new and big things into this business to make it thrive even more than it already is. I believe in you, I love you, and I'm proud of you. To Dean,” My dad said, raising his glass up. Everyone followed and touched glasses together, repeating him. I gave a small smile and tipped my glass back, quickly swallowing the whiskey. 

If I was gonna deal with my dad and grandpa’s phony “I’m so proud of you and I love you, you’re gonna do great things” bullshit all day then I was gonna need to get really fucking drunk.

I poured myself another glass and chugged it down before going outside to light a cigarette. I took a long drag and blew it out with a heavy sigh.

“Those things will kill you, you know,” My father’s voice came from behind me as he was lighting up one.

I stared at him completely dumbfounded, “and yet you’re smoking one right now,” I take another drag and start kicking the gravel in the driveway to distract myself from twhatever bullshit was about to spew from my father’s mouth.

He watches me as he sits on the stairs to the front door, “Dean, I hope you know what you’re getting into it cause to me it just seems like you don’t or that you just don’t give a fuck. I need you to give a fuck Dean.”

I chuckle and turn to him, throwing my cigarette on the ground, “Don’t try and tell me what you think. You don’t know me and you never tried to know me. You never tried to be a father, I had to raise myself. You fucked and then fired every fucking nanny I had but with the short time they were here, they knew more about me than you ever had.” I clenched my jaw and walked closer to him with my fists clenched.

He looked up at me and grinned, “You gonna hit me? Go ahead.” He blew a puff a smoke up into my face and waited.

There’s only been a few times in my life that I’ve hit my father and the consequence? He’d beat the absolute shit out of me and scream about how much of a disrespectful, useless asshole I was. The first time he did that I was 15 years old. 

Like I said before, father of the fucking century.

My father stood up and sighed, closing the distance between us, “You lack honor for this family. That’s how I know you won’t succeed unless you straighten the fuck up.”

I could feel my face getting hot and my fists were shaking, “Honor? Where the fuck was your honor for your wife? Where the fuck was your honor for my FUCKING MOTHER?” I screamed in his face. 

I could never cry over her. I couldn’t feel sadness, just complete anger. I never actually cried over anything, I could never feel so sad, happy, or angry over something that I just cried. My only release was the feeling of pulling the trigger, drinking or fighting. 

“Are you done?” My father asked as if he was talking to a small child that was throwing a temper tantrum. 

I shook my head, backing away from him and turned around so I didn’t have to look at that stupid grin he always had when I backed down.

“Your grandfather and I have some things we need to take care of tomorrow, you’re gonna come with us,” He stated as he walked back up the stairs.

“Oh, and Happy Birthday son,” he called out as he went back inside.

All the rage I felt was still there. I was sweating, short of breath and my hands continued to shake.

“I FUCKING HATE YOU!” I yelled out, facing my house hoping the pricks in there could hear me.

I knew my outbursts weren’t doing anything but I needed to give them something. They knew I had a temper that made me act out and I continued to act out and have a shitty attitude.

I needed something to distract them with. While they try to fix me and make me the “honorable” men that they were, I was going to take everything from them and then blow their fucking brains out.

____________

read chapter 2

[highkey-lowkey-as-hell]

New Shoes

Summary: The beheaded cousins get new shoes and Catherine of Aragon disapproves. Lil Parrlyn but it’s background. Kitty calls Jane mum.

Word count: 1406

TW: Mild cursing

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

Later, when she thought about this shopping trip, Jane would spend quite a while debating whether it was worth it. On the one hand, Anna definitely needed new running shoes, and Cathy's birthday was coming up and Jane wanted to get her some new blue high-tops. On the other hand, Kitty and Anne were now menaces.

Well, mostly just Anne.

It had started when they'd walked in. Anna had wandered off on her own to the sports section, and then when Jane looked away from her, Anne and Kitty were gone. She made the mistake of shrugging it off. They know where and when we're supposed to meet, anyways. So she asked an employee about blue high-tops, dug out her piece of paper with all the queens' sizes in shoes, clothes, etc, and forgot about the youngest queens.

She shouldn't have done that.

"Mum! Mum, Mum, Mum, look what I found!" Kitty said, running down the aisle with a pink box. "Loooooooook!"

The box advertised trainers with lights on them.

"Mum, I think I've saved up enough for them. Can I get them?"J

ane considered it, decided light-up shoes didn't sound that bad, and allowed them. "You can't wear them for the show tonight though, okay?"

Kitty pouted, but after Jane reminded her of the pink glitter and rhinestones on her show heels, she perked up again, assuring Jane that she'd already tried them on and that they fit perfectly.

"By the way, Kitty, where's Anne?"

Kitty pulled out a box from the shelf. "I dunno. Maybe she's with Anna. I think Cathy would like these, don't you?"

Jane's eyes widened. Sometimes Kitty could keep Anne under control for short bursts of time, and Cathy was like a miracle worker with her, but Anne and Anna were a recipe for disaster.

Her fears were somewhat alleviated when, leaving Kitty happily sorting through shoes for Cathy, she found Anna alone and deciding between two pairs of red trainers that looked practically the same to Jane. But if Anne wasn't with Kitty, Jane, or Anna, then where was she?

"Mum!" Kitty tapped her shoulder. "Look at these ones!"

"Yes, very nice," Jane said absently.

"Mum, you're not looking!"

"Sorry, love. I'm looking for Anne."

Kitty grabbed Jane's purse and pulled out her phone. "Have you forgotten about this?"

Jane blushed a little bit. "Oh, right." She dialed Anne's number while Kitty redid her tight pink ponytail. "Anne?"

"Hey, Jane! What's up?"

"Where are you? Anna, Kitty and I are ready to pay and leave."

"I'm ready, too. Where are you?"

"Athletic shoes."

"I'm coming! I found this awesome pair of shoes."

"Wha- never mind. Just show me."

"Give me thirty seconds." Anne hung up without another word, then came hurtling around the corner, clutching a shoebox. "They're called heelies! They've got wheels in them."

"Come on, then." Jane gestured to the register. "Let's go."

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

"Ow! Bloody hell!" Anna cursed as Anne slammed into her from behind.

"Sorry, Anna!" Anne got back to her feet and tried to help Anna up, but she swatted her hand away. Multiple other people passed by, giving them weird looks.

"Jane, tell her to stop using those damn heelies on the sidewalk," she groaned.

Kitty, Anna, and Anne had all put their new shoes on as soon as they left the store. Kitty kept stomping every few steps and delighting in the pink lights that lit up every time she did. Jane had to admit, she was a little in awe of Kitty's new shoes, too. The things these 21st century people came up with, right? She was so busy wondering how they worked that she'd been paying little to no attention to what Anne was doing. "Anna's right, Anne. Once we get home, you can go in the backyard and use them on the deck."

"Can I heely down the hall at the theatre?"

"If you stop running into people." Jane glanced back to make sure Kitty was still with them. "Here's the Tube station. Come on."

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

"Cathy!" Anne barreled into the kitchen as soon as Kitty unlocked the door - Jane, unfortunately, was not good at keys - where Cathy was microwaving leftovers from last night.

"Anne, what-" Cathy started as Jane followed her into the kitchen.

"Cath, look!" Anne heelied a metre or so. "Look at these shoes!""How does that-”

"They've got wheels." Anne turned around and bent her knee so Cathy could inspect the bottom of her shoe. "Cool, right?"

"Super cool," Cathy admitted and kissed her forehead. "Did you guys stop at Salisbury's?"

"We did," Jane said, putting her bags on the counter. "Kitty! Come help me put the groceries away!"

Kitty's footsteps came down the stairs - she hated putting groceries away and always ran away when they got back from the store, which just prompted Jane to make her do it more. "Cathy, check these out!" She jumped and the second her feet hit the tiles, her shoes started flashing pink and white.

Jane could see the wheels turning in Cathy's brain. "How on Earth do those work?"

"I don't know, but aren't they awesome?"

"I gotta research that," Cathy murmured, pulling a bunch of bananas from one of the bags. "Catherine went for a walk about ten minutes ago."

Jane glanced at the clock. "We've got about an hour before we should get to the theatre. She'd better be back soon."

"She will be." Cathy jumped as the microwave beeped, then pulled out her spaghetti. "Anne, you want some?"

"Lady and the Tramp," Kitty said through a fake cough. Anne winked at her, and she pretended to gag.

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

Kitty carefully set her light-up shoes on top of the counter (on a plastic bag, since Jane had told her she couldn't put her shoes straight on the same counter as her makeup) and reached for her little jar of pink glitter. Jane was humming next to her as she did her hair, and Cathy was scrolling through Instagram while applying a fresh coat of blue nail polish to her nails. The theater had three dressing rooms: one for Cathy, Kitty, and Jane, one for Catherine, Anne, and Anna, and one for their swings. In dressing room one, everything was peaceful. Then, as Kitty clipped on her choker, they heard a shout from dressing room two.

"ANNE BOLEYN, TAKE THOSE OFF!"

"YOU CAN'T TELL ME WHAT TO DO!"

Cathy groaned and stood up, forcing her heel into her other shoe as she did so. "That sounded like Catherine and Anne, right?" Seeing as Catherine was her godmother and Anne her girlfriend, poor Cathy typically ended up mediating their fights.

"Yeah," Kitty agreed. Jane still had to get her dress on, so the two of them warily stuck their heads into the hall, Kitty's ponytail swinging back and forth. Anne was sprawled on the ground in a heap, making Kitty wince for the fate of her green show dress, still wearing her lime-green heelies. Catherine stood over her, looking absolutely petrifying, and glaring down at her, and Anna stood in the doorway of their dressing room, holding out her phone and probably filming.

"What happened?" Cathy asked, helping Anne up.

"This gremlin," Catherine spat, "refused to take off her ridiculous new shoes, and when I tried to force her, she yelled that I couldn't tell her what to do and tried to take off down the hallway."

"And then I tripped," Anne mumbled. "And I'm not a gremlin!"

"Mm, up for debate," Cathy said lightly. "Are you hurt?"

"I'm fine. And I'm not-"

"Yeah, you are," Kitty said. "And Mum said we have to wear our show heels!"

"Right, but consider: Don't Lose Ur Head, but I'm heelying the whole time!" Anne said eagerly. "Or my patriarchy line! I can say it while heelying circles around Catherine!"

"You can't even heely down the sidewalk," Anna called down the hallway. "My knees still hurt."

"Shut up, Cleves."

"How about this?" Cathy suggested. "You learn how to use them better first, and then maybe we can talk to the choreographer. Deal?"

"Fine," she grumbled, then stomped back into her dressing room.

Kitty cocked an eyebrow at Cathy. "You know that Mum will never let her wear them on stage, right?"

"Yeah, but I don't want to be the one to break her heart," Cathy said, rolling her eyes. "Come on, let's see if Jane's ready yet. Our curtain call's in twenty."

[softforcal]

A Whole Team: Dad!Ashton

Summary: you and Ashton are parents of 3 already and you find out you’re pregnant again.

Warnings: the purest softest dad!sos. (all of them get cute moments and its just very soft)

Note: this was requested as an HC but i had to do it as a oneshot cuz i had to. pregnant reader x Ashton HC here

Word Count: 3.7k

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

the house was abuzz with the sounds of laughter and running feet, noise slipping under the closed bathroom door as you sat on the sink top, Ashton between your legs, his hands rubbing your bare thighs as you both waited for the pregnancy stick.

there was a loud thud, followed by Luke’s voice yelling “don’t climb that!” 

you and Ashton smiled at each other, glad that his friends were over for the night to take care of your three little monsters while you and Ashton shared this private moment alone. 

he’d always wanted a big family. 

and you were so in love with him when you’d met and then gotten married that it had just sort of happened. your first pregnancy had resulted in twins. two boys, Flynn and Ronan.

they had been a menace. 

but you and Ashton had never been more in love with your small little family. 

you’d gotten pregnant again a year later and the love and excitement you had felt during your first pregnancy appeared all over again. 

your little girl, Nell, had been born and she was a daddies girl the moment she was placed in Ashton’s arms. 

that had been two years ago. 

three kids was difficult but Ashton’s band mates had stepped up. 

your kids loved Uncle Cal because he knew how to cook a great grilled cheese sandwich. he’d come over and do movie nights with the kids to give you and Ashton time to rest or have a date night every now and again.

Nell’s favourite was Luke and she was always getting him to lift her up so she felt taller while Flynn and Ronan tugged at his long legs. they were always mischievous with Luke around because try as he might, he could never keep a straight face when telling your kids what they weren’t allowed to do.

and Michael was a dream baby sitter. the twins thought he was the coolest guy in the universe, with his dyed hair and video game tattoos. uncle Mikey always brought candy for them and he just lit up the moment he walked through the door. 

now, with two four year olds and one two year old, it seemed right that you might be pregnant again. 

your phone buzzed, signalling that the stick should be done and ready to give you the news. 

“should i look or do you want to?” Ashton asked, fingers drawing circles on your thighs as he looked into your eyes, scared to look anywhere else or risk seeing the results.

“together?” you suggested.

“no matter what, you know i love you right?” Ashton grinned, dimples showing as he leaned in and kissed you softly.

“love you too.” you took a deep breath, “okay, three, two, one.”

-------

Michael sat between the twins, a nintendo switch in his hands as they leaned on his arms, watching him play Mario Kart. your boys had insisted on coming to the appointment but had easily been convinced to stay outside with Michael.

the gel was cold against your belly and Ashton squeezed your hand, offering you a smile while slowly rocking your sleeping two year old who was cradled against his chest in her little pink onesie. 

you both looked at the screen and Ashton let out a shaky breath, “twins?”

“yes, how did you know?” your nurse smiled.

“we already have two boys.” you explained, “they’re outside.”

“well, congratulations. would you two like to know the gender?”

“yes please.” Ashton was grinning so wide you thought his face must have hurt but you knew the feeling. 

“so this one on the left is a boy, and the one on the right is a girl.”

Ashton squeezed your hand again and you turned to grin at him, noticing his eyes were slightly watery, “aw baby,” you cooed, “you okay?”

“i just... i never get used to this.” he said, taking his hand away from yours to wipe at his eyes before looking down at the sleeping child in his arms, “you’re going to have a contender little bug.” 

you smiled and let out a shaky breath, “five kids. are you worried?”

“of course not.” Ashton laughed, “after this we can have a whole team.”

“what are you-”

“basketball. five players. we have a whole team.” Ashton explained.

“you are wild.” you laughed.

he smiled at you, “you love me.”

“yeah. i do.”

-------

you were asleep in the middle of the bed, your small bump already showing under the shirt you wore to sleep. Ronan and Flynn were both cuddled against your side, fast asleep. Ashton on your other side with Nell snuggled between you and him.

the first rays of warm sunlight were seeping into the room and Ashton looked at the four of you. his happy family. maybe not so little anymore, especially with the two munchkins growing inside of you.

Ashton reached over Nell, his hand resting on your stomach. he adored the small bump already and what it meant. 

Nell began to move, waking up at Ashton’s movements, “morning bug,” he whispered, “what do you say we head to the kitchen and make mommy breakfast?” 

Nell rubbed her eyes but nodded, small hands reaching out to grab the front of Ashton’s shirt as he lifted her up and got out of the bed, carrying her down to the kitchen. he wanted to carry her while cooking but the three times he’d tried it before had not worked so, much to her dismay, he set Nell in her chair.

“sing dada.” she said, still rubbing the sleep from her eyes before stretching her little arms over her head and yawning loudly.

“what do you want me to sing Princess?” 

Nell shrugged, “dunno.”

Ashton laughed, admiring his princess for a second. her beautiful curly hair and the dimples in her cheeks that she got from him. he began to sing “you’re insecure, don’t know what for, you’re turning heads-”

Nell let out a small streak, covering her face with her hands, “not dat one dada!” she laughed.

“why not Princess? don’t you like One Direction?”

“no.” Nell said stubbornly.

“you know, i used to be friends with them-”

“sing your own song.” 

Ashton laughed again, giving in immediately. there was no use even pretending not to be completely wrapped around his little girls finger. he began to sing one of their older songs and Nell frowned, making him stop, “now what bug?”

“sing the heart one?”

“the heart one.” Ashton repeated.

“black heart.” 

“that’s Uncle Mikey’s song, bug.” 

“sing it.”

Ashton rolled his eyes and began singing while he cooked breakfast. 

he was just about to flip the last pancake when you came down the stairs, a twin holding each hand. “pancakes!” Flynn grinned, running towards his dad who scooped him up, settling the child on his hip with one hand.

“hey there lil man.” Ashton smiled.

“flip the pancake!” Flynn instructed.

“okay master chef.” Ashton laughed. it was a bit of a struggle to flip the pancake with just one hand but he managed, earning claps from everyone, “thank you enthusiastic audience participants.”

“those are some big words,” you smiled, running a hand through Nell’s curls, “right Nelly?”

she nodded, looking with big eyes at her dad. 

you helped Ronan get up to his chair before sitting down and watching Ashton cook. it was sweet domestic moments like this that solidified the fact that you’d found your soulmate. 

Ashton set Flynn down, “set the table bub.” he said, reaching the plates from the high shelf before handing them to the four year old who was more than eager to bring them over to you. you stood and set the plates at the bigger family table instead of the island area you’d been sitting at while watching Ashton. 

the kids all sat down at their seats and you went to help Ashton but he shook his hand, “take a seat Sweetheart, i got this.”

he brought the pancakes and the bacon over to the table, grabbing everything you needed before sitting down. he looked at you with a smile as you served the kids. he adored the way you knew exactly what each kid wanted to eat.

Ronan always said he wanted a full pancake but he could only ever get through half of one. and he was a menace on the bacon, always asking for at least six pieces.

Nell liked Ronan’s other half of the pancake and no bacon.

and Flynn liked a whole pancake smothered in syrup and only two pieces of bacon. 

Ashton waited until everyone had food before grabbing some for himself.

you all ate and chatted. Flynn and Ronan had just started taking karate lessons and they were super excited to show their moves, Ashton settled them down by promising they could karate chop him to their hearts content after breakfast.

and as always, Ashton did everything in his power to make Nell laugh.

you watched with an amused smile while he stole Ronan’s last piece of bacon and then pretended he hadn’t. “what? where did my bacon go?!” Ronan asked while looking around wildly.

 “i don’t know where your bacon is Ro.”

“you took it!” Ronan screeched, pointing at his dada.

“i did not!” Ashton said in mock shock.

“yes you did dada!” Nell insisted.

you finished breakfast and Ashton eyed you, “you sure you’re full Sweetheart.”

“yeah.” you said, hands on the small bump of your belly, “feels like i’ve eaten a house!”

your kids all laughed and Ashton grinned as Flynn hopped off his chair and came to press his face against your stomach, “hi babies!”

you smiled and looked up at Ashton who gave you a look, “you’re eating for three darling, just want to make sure you’re not hungry.”

“i’m fine.” you assured him.

when breakfast finished you stood up to clean but Ashton waved his hand again, “sit down babe, i got this.” you watched him clean up with a smile, admiring his strong shoulders under his sleeping shirt. the way his honey curls looked in the sunlight. you loved him and you’d love him until the day you died.

-----------

Ashton’s strong hand helped you into the warm water before he got in behind you. you leaned back against his chest as his arms wrapped around you, hands settling on your large belly.

“i feel like a balloon ready to pop.” you groaned, resting your head against Ashton’s shoulder as he pressed his cheek against yours.

“due date is soon sweetheart.” he mused.

you both sat there, enjoying the closeness and the quiet. 

“thank god for Luke and Cal agreeing to take the kids.” you sighed.

“i’m pretty sure they wanted to see the Disney movie anyways, our kids are just an excuse for them to be in the theatre.” Ashton chuckled slightly, fingers lightly brushing over your skin.

you groaned when Stella, your baby girl moved. she’d been getting fussy. Ashton joked that she was just excited to meet you guys. 

Ashton’s fingers immediately began lightly tapping over where Stella should be in your stomach. you’d found out a week before that Stella calmed down to the beats that Ashton liked to play on your skin. 

Stella stopped fussing and you smiled. Ashton was an amazing dad and it was something you adored about him.

before long, you’d fallen asleep. Ashton smiled, pressing a kiss against your shoulder. he loved you and your growing family more than he’d loved anything in his entire life. and in moments like these he thanked whatever god brought you two together. 

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

the days leading up to your due date were hectic. Luke, Calum and Michael were all staying at the house with you and Ashton, two of them always there in case it happened. Ashton refused to leave so Calum did most of the grocery shopping. 

everyone was on edge, even the kids.

the Twins were excited to have two more siblings and Flynn had taken to talking to your belly and falling asleep against it. and wherever Flynn went, Ronan followed. so most night, Ashton would get to bed, Nell in his arms, and find you asleep with the twins.

you were cooking with Calum when your water broke. 

Calum turned the stove off immediately, helping you to a chair, “i’m going to grab Ashton.” he said, voice calm and collected.

he ran out to the yard where Ashton was allowing the twins to karate chop him to their hearts content while Nell laughed.

Ashton ran into the house, almost slipping on the floor from where your water had broken, “shit!” he yelled.

your eyed widened as a chorus of “daddy said a bad word!” erupted from the twins who were running after him and Nell simply laughed from where she was in Calum’s arms. 

“Luke! Michael!” Ashton screamed.

Luke and Michael both came running, wide eyed and ready to help.

“Luke, get the hospital bag. Michael, help me get Y/N to the car. Calum, get Nelly in her car seat with the twins.” Ashton instructed as Michael ran over to help you stand up.

“which car?” Calum asked, walking after you, Ashton and Michael while the twins practically bounced around at his feet.

“i’ll drive Y/N with Michael, you and Luke can take the kids in your car is that okay?” Ashton asked.

Calum nodded, his car still had the car seat from the other day when he had taken Nelly to get ice cream.

you took a deep breath, “Ashton we’re about to have two more kids.”

he smiled at you, helping you into the car, “yeah, we are.”

“i love you.”

he grabbed your face, kissing you, “i love you too.”

----------

all the nintendo switches in the world couldn’t have distracted the twins who were all but bouncing around the waiting room while Michael tried to get them to sit down.

Nelly had fallen asleep on Luke’s chest and Calum went to go get snacks to settle the twins down. 

in the delivery room, Ashton’s hand kept you grounded as you followed the doctors instructions. “okay, i need you to push now.”

“you got this.” Ashton said, kissing your knuckles.

the first one out was Stella. 

Ashton laughed as the nurse announced, “it’s a beautiful baby girl.”

because of course the fussy, drum loving baby would be first.

while Stella got cleaned, you pushed out the baby boy, who you’d decided to name Henry. 

Ashton kissed your hand one more time before pulling away to go stand with the nurses who were cleaning the twins. Stella was done first and the nurse set her in Ashton’s arms.

he cooed at her, “hey princess.”

he brought her over to you and you you melted at how small she was in his massive arms. he had the same look he’d had when he first held Nell. not that he hadn’t looked that way with Ronan and Flynn but there was just something about the girls, a protective aspect that was a bit different.

you held out your arms and Ashton settled her in them while he went to go get Henry. 

when he returned with your new baby boy you both melted. 

after a little while Ashton asked if you wanted him to grab the kids. you nodded and let him set Henry in one of your arms so you had both babies cradled against your chest.

Ashton kissed your forehead, muttering an ‘i love you’ before leaving. in the waiting room, Calum had just calmed down the twins but when Ashton entered they jumped up again, “Daddy!” 

their screams woke Nell who yawned and buried her face against Luke’s chest, gripping at his green shirt while he stood, big blue eyes wide.

Ashton smiled, kneeling on the ground, “you two wanna meet your new team mates?” he asked.

they laughed, both saying “yes yes yes!”

“is Y/N okay?” Calum asked.

“she’s fine, it went perfect.” Ashton assured them, “i’m going to let these munchkins in to see her and Cal maybe you can come too? then if you wouldn’t mind, maybe you can take the kids home, it’s pretty late.”

Cal nodded, “yeah, sure.” 

“Nelly do you wanna come see your new brother and sister?” Ashton asked.

she made a face, and then tears began to flow, “what if you like them better than me?” she hid her face in Luke’s shirt who looked at Ashton, not sure what to do.

“aw, love bug, don’t think that.” Ashton assured her, coming and holding out his arms, he coaxed her to let go of Luke, “i love all of you Princess. you, and Ronan, and Flynn-”

“and mama?” Nell asked.

“especially mama.” Ashton smiled, “i have enough love for all of you, you’ll always be my little bug, Nelly, you know that.” he wiped away her tears, “you ready to meet your brother and sister?”

she nodded, resting her face against his shoulder. 

Ronan and Flynn grabbed Calum’s hands and Ashton led them to the delivery room.

“there are my babies.” you smiled when they entered.

“yeah, we’re all here.” Calum grinned and you laughed. 

Flynn and Ronan ran to the bed, peering up at the babies. 

Calum went on one side of you while Ashton went on the other, Ashton’s hand going to rest on Ronan’s head while Nell peered down at the babies from where Ashton held her. 

“they’re beautiful Y/N.” Calum smiled at you.

“want to hold one?” you asked.

Calum’s eyes widened and Ashton’s heart swelled in his chest, “yeah.”

“here take Stella.” you said, motioning for the one closest to him. Calum gently took her from your arms before he squatted down on his knees so Flynn, who had been standing next to him, could see his new sister.

“she’s so small.” Flynn smiled, gently reaching out a finger to touch Stella’s hand.

“here Nelly, why don’t you sit with mama?” Ashton suggested, moving so Nell was sitting on the bed. he lifted up Ronan so all of you could look at Henry. 

while your kids looked at their new brother, your eyes went up to Ashton who grinned down at you. it was a silent ‘i love you’ but it was obvious you were both feeling it. you were always feeling it, every moment.

-----

Flynn was on Calum’s shoulders while Ronan was on Ashton’s as they tried to push each other in the pool, a game Ashton called chicken fight. 

“get him Ronan, get him!” Ashton encouraged.

“dad!” Flynn screamed, looking at his father like he was a traitor while his twin tried to push him of Calum’s shoulders.

“you’ve got this Flynn!” Calum said, also encouraging the five year olds.

you sat with Michael and Luke in the shade, watching the fun. Henry was in your arms and Michael had Stella while Nell sat with Luke and Petunia.

the first months had been very stressful. you and Ash never asked for help but the other three always showed up, ready to take the kids for a few hours. 

Ronan and Flynn had both just started kindergarden which made life easier. 

“i’m going to get lunch started.” you said, handing Henry off to Luke.

“you sure you don’t want me to do it?” Luke asked.

“Luke. i wouldn’t let you feed my children if you were the last cook in the world.” you smiled.

Ashton watched you go inside, “hey guys, i think you should swim with Uncle Cal for a bit, i’ll be right back.” 

Ronan and Flynn both groaned but Ashton carefully took Ronan off his shoulders, setting the child into the water and holding him until he began to kick his feet and flap his limbs that were wrapped with arm floaties, “you good rock star?” Ashton asked, making sure before he let go of his kid.

“yeah!” Ronan smiled.

Ronan and Flynn were both really good swimmers and Cal was there in case, as Ashton got out of the pool he felt no worry, drying off before entering the house and closing the sliding door behind him. 

you were humming to yourself, one of their old songs, and it made Ashton smile as he wrapped his arms around your waist, pressing a kiss to your shoulder, “can’t believe you still sing that song.”

“she looks so perfect is a national treasure Mr. Irwin.” you smiled, continuing to make sandwiches.

“hmm, debatable, mrs. Irwin.” he smiled against your skin.

his hands teased the skin under your shirt at the waistband of your pants. “Ashton!” you laughed.

“baby number six.” he teased.

“or with our luck, six and seven seeing as for some reason my womb likes twins.” you rolled your eyes.

Ashton’s lips stayed on your neck, “i’m thinking one more, then we can have a hockey or volleyball team.” 

“really?” you grinned.

“train them for the olympics or something.”

you laughed, finally setting down the butterknife as you turned around to face him, arms going around his neck, “have i ever told you how much i love you?”

“every day baby.” he grinned, “have I ever told you how much i love you?”

“every hour baby.” you smiled. your gaze went over his shoulder and out the window and you laughed, “babe look, Ronan and Flynn are teaming up on Calum again.”

Ashton turned around, moving you in front of him with your back against his chest again, he chuckled when he saw Flynn on Calum’s back and Ronan attached to one of his arms as Calum waded through the water pretending to be Godzilla. 

“i’m so happy.” you whispered, looking at Luke who had Henry on his chest and was singing softly to Nell who was asleep with her head on Petunia’s stomach. and Michael, rocking Stella to the sound of Luke’s voice.

the man you loved stood behind you, chin on your shoulder as his arms provided safety around you, “me too Sweetheart. me too.”

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