#he is a person who leans very strongly towards justice

[sadkachow]

Me and @theeviltwinduh were talking and we think we've come up with an idea of a Death Note au that takes place in a world with SOULs like in Undertale? It's kind of just a fun thinkpiece idea, but here's what we have so far:

SOUL TYPES:

L: determination

Light: integrity (until death note)

Matsuda: kindness

Soichiro: justice

Sayu: perseverance

Near: determination

Mello: bravery

Matt: perseverance

Watari: patience 

Misa: kindness (until Death Note)

Ryuk: monster soul (or soulless)

Rem: monster (soulless maybe)

What is unknown by Death Note users is the fact that using a Death Note means your soul slowly corrodes until it becomes nothing. Think Flowey style (but more gradually over time).

Remnants of the soul (if any) belong to the shinigami who originally owned the Death Note

Shinigami (which are one kind of monsters, although not all monsters are shinigami nor were all once Death Note users) were once humans, who, after exchanging their souls for the use of the Death Note, once they die, become shinigami.

[jugheadvarchoni]

𝗥𝗶𝘃𝗲𝗿𝗱𝗮𝗹𝗲 𝗖𝗵𝗮𝗿𝗮𝗰𝘁𝗲𝗿𝘀 𝗦𝗼𝗿𝘁𝗲𝗱 𝗜𝗻𝘁𝗼 𝗧𝗵𝗲𝗶𝗿 𝗛𝗼𝗴𝘄𝗮𝗿𝘁𝘀 𝗛𝗼𝘂𝘀𝗲𝘀

This was soooo fun, but also really difficult! All the characters at some point, display attributes from all the houses. Everyone has moments of immense bravery, they’re all loyal to someone(s), they all have their own creative or intellectual abilities, and they display ambition or determination in what they do.

The trick was for me to decide which traits I thought defined them the MOST. And who knows, maybe I’ll change my mind one day, but rn, I think I’m happy with these decisions.

As always, let me know what YOUR opinion is if you want. This is by no means an expert opinion. Just my own thoughts. ✌️

- ᴀʀᴄʜɪᴇ: ɢʀʏꜰꜰɪɴᴅᴏʀ (ᴡɪᴛʜ ꜱᴛʀᴏɴɢ ʜɪɴᴛꜱ ᴏꜰ ʜᴜꜰꜰʟᴇᴘᴜꜰꜰ)

I think the biggest thing that pushes him into Gryffindor is his reckless chivalry. He doesn’t think about the consequences before doing something and is unable to acknowledge the affect of those decisions long-term (his vigilantism, for example). He’s constantly making choices that are completely reactionary and not ever really thought-out, sometimes to his own detriment. But it’s almost always for the right reason, at least in his eyes. His loyalty to the people he loves is a strong motivator, but so is his need to do the right thing. His moral compass is incredibly strong and not only dictates the decisions he makes (which can be misguided for sure… GRUNDY) but also the friends he keeps and people he associates with. He is very passionate about everything he does, especially music/poetry and football, which can fully encompass his entire being when he’s locked into them. There is a big piece of Hufflepuff in him, with his strong determination, loyalty to his friends, and hard-working mindset, mainly thanks to his father Fred. But I do think his recklessly brave, honest, and trusting personality just leans more heavily towards Gryffindor.

- ᴠᴇʀᴏɴɪᴄᴀ: ꜱʟʏᴛʜᴇʀɪɴ (ᴡɪᴛʜ ꜱᴛʀᴏɴɢ ʜɪɴᴛꜱ ᴏꜰ ʀᴀᴠᴇɴᴄʟᴀᴡ)

Veronica is VERY ambitious and cunning, confident and self-reliant in almost everything she does. When she cares for people she cares for them HARD! But not everyone is deserving of that loyalty from her. Her resourcefulness and cleverness, which go hand in hand, is unmatched, even without her parents money. She’s always scheming and thinking on her feet (thus the Ravenclaw aspects: wise, analytical, and idealistic) especially when dealing with her father, which happens soooo much. BUT, her schemes are almost always motivated by a desire to do the right thing by those she loves. She’s ruthless (tho not in the same hard, flippant way Cheryl can be) because she is DRIVEN to always succeed at everything she sets her mind to, it’s how she was raised for better or for worse. Her tendency for success is greatly aided by her resilience, charm, and clever nature. She’s a Slytherin for sure, but more open-minded, accepting, and meticulous than stereotypes about Slytherin’s might say.

- ʙᴇᴛᴛʏ: ʜᴜꜰꜰʟᴇᴘᴜꜰꜰ (ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴠᴇʀʏ ꜱᴛʀᴏɴɢ ʜɪɴᴛꜱ ᴏꜰ ꜱʟʏᴛʜᴇʀɪɴ)

Betty was kinda tough for me. She feels so different throughout every season. When it comes down to it though, I think her most defining attributes are how hard working she is, how fiercely she loves (even to a dangerous degree), and determined she is. She has a hunger for justice and finding the truth, TENACIOUS. She’s passionate about everything she sets her mind on doing and will see things through to the end. She’s smart like a Ravenclaw & sometimes reckless like a Gryffindor, but those don’t feel like defining characteristics for me. She could, however also be strongly considered for Slytherin as that hunger for justice can be seen as driven and determined, sometimes leading her to make ruthless decisions that hurt other people for her own gain or for the gain of her mission. Depending on the season, she does have a tendency to be very judgemental and deceptively manipulative or cruel. In the end tho, I think she is really just a workaholic, someone who just wants to do the right thing and see that people get what the deserve, an eye-for-an-eye sort of thing. She will do anything for the people she loves, ANYTHING. Fairness. Justice. Determination.

- ᴊᴜɢʜᴇᴀᴅ: ʀᴀᴠᴇɴᴄʟᴀᴡ (ᴡɪᴛʜ ꜱᴛʀᴏɴɢ ʜɪɴᴛꜱ ᴏꜰ ꜱʟʏᴛʜᴇʀɪɴ)

Jughead is ECCENTRIC. He’s weird, he’s a weirdo. He doesn’t fit in, and he doesn’t want to fit in. He’s very much an introspective wall-flower, who is not only quite intelligent, but also wildly creative. He’s a writer, tortured soul, he’s cynical. An inquisitive mind if there ever was one! This can sometimes lead him down a dangerous and condescending path where he holds himself and others to too high of standards, and gets upset when they fall short. He can be vain and maybe a little pretentious sometimes because he’s passionate about what he does. He seeks justice through truth and observation, often for the greater good. Like a Slytherin tho, he uses his intelligence to achieve his goals and is VERY determined, to the point where he can sometimes lose himself in the mystery and let relationships fall to the wayside. He’s incredibly ambitious and self-reliant, but that is by far overshadowed by his curious and creative nature that often makes him the driving force for the shows’ entire narrative.

- ᴄʜᴇʀʏʟ: ꜱʟʏᴛʜᴇʀɪɴ (ᴡɪᴛʜ ꜱᴛʀᴏɴɢ ʜɪɴᴛꜱ ᴏꜰ ɢʀʏꜰꜰɪɴᴅᴏʀ)

This one feels like kind of a no-brainer, because it’s what everyone says, but I actually think she’s more complicated than JUST being a Slytherin. Cheryl is confident! She’s ambitious and resilient, calculating, and can be very manipulative. Like Veronica, she’s a schemer. But her loyalty is INCREDIBLY selective. She trusts very few people in her life, but those she does, she gives her ALL to (see Toni & Jason) and she desperately wants to take care of them and be loved by them. She follows her own path, constantly trying to break out of her families’ dark, dark shadow. She is big on self-preservation and that can lead her to make selfish decisions that hurt others. BUT, I also think she has a major creative bone in her body that shines in the later seasons (she’s literally an artist). And I think a very strong case can be made for Gryffindor. She’s rebellious (especially against her family!), is stubborn as hell, proud to a fault, and can be quite boastful and arrogant. She IS red, it’s her aesthetic! In S6 & S7, she’s more reserved and kinder too, willing to give her life for the town. But in the end, her ambition, confidence, and ruthlessness to achieve her goals make her a Slytherin imo.

- ᴛᴏɴɪ: ʜᴜꜰꜰʟᴇᴘᴜꜰꜰ (ᴡɪᴛʜ ꜱᴛʀᴏɴɢ ʜɪɴᴛꜱ ᴏꜰ ɢʀʏꜰꜰɪɴᴅᴏʀ)

This girl is LOYAL. Damn, is she loyal and patient and dependable. Toni is basically the textbook definition of a Hufflepuff. She has a crazy strong work ethic that stems from a prideful and practical personality. She may be one of the most responsible people on the show (forgetting about S6 and how they made her a bad mom). She’s giving and compassionate. She’s HONEST, not just to others, but with herself. She knows who she is and she’s doesn’t let anyone tell her otherwise. Her loyalty and kindness can sometimes get her into trouble tho, because she often lets people dictate or make decisions FOR her because she thinks it’s what they need (Cheryl & Anthony!). But I also think the Gryffindor in her is VERY overwhelming too. She’s rebellious, has a strong moral compass, is incredibly chivalrous, and very passionate about her hobbies and the people she loves. As a serpent, she is PROUD, overwhelmingly so. She takes pride in who she is and what she and the serpents stand for. I just believe her undying loyalty, patience, and dependability are what really makes her who she is.

- ʀᴇɢɢɪᴇ: ɢʀʏꜰꜰɪɴᴅᴏʀ (ᴡɪᴛʜ ꜱᴛʀᴏɴɢ ʜɪɴᴛꜱ ᴏꜰ ꜱʟʏᴛʜᴇʀɪɴ)

Reggie is extremely proud, reckless and is not one to think before he acts. Emphasis on RECKLESS. He’s loud and boisterous, every bit the stereotypical jock, especially in the beginning. Like Cheryl, he’s part of a family legacy and grew up conceited, with all the wealth and power at his disposal. It made him cocky and made him THINK he could do whatever he wants (arrogance). He’s playful and likes to crack jokes and keep things light, sometimes not even on purpose. Like typical Slytherin’s, he’s confident and charming, finding ways to achieve his goals at any cost. However, unlike a Slytherin, I don’t think he is often shown to be very cunning or self-reliant. He’s not particularly clever or calculating, and is usually more of a follower than a leader. BUT, I think he’s very protective of those he loves, chivalrous, one might say. He’s stubborn and refuses to back down from the choices he and his friends make, even if it puts him in physical harm.

- ᴋᴇᴠɪɴ: ʜᴜꜰꜰʟᴇᴘᴜꜰꜰ (ᴡɪᴛʜ ꜱᴛʀᴏɴɢ ʜɪɴᴛꜱ ᴏꜰ ʀᴀᴠᴇɴᴄʟᴀᴡ)

Another tough one for me. I think his open-mindedness and kindness are what defines who he is and how he interacts with the people around him. His tolerance is motivated by his own life, by the way he’s grown up knowing he was gay and wanting to ensure nobody felt uncomfortable in who they are. Similar to Toni, he KNOWS who he is and is not ashamed to be that person. He’s often the moral support for his friends and just loves being around the people he cares about. He is proud, but not in a cocky way, like a Gryffindor would���ve. He has a full-fledged confidence in himself and the choices he makes, which can lend itself to being a Ravenclaw, as does his blindly accepting and loquacious nature. But his loyalty and unprejudiced outlook on life make him a definite Hufflepuff to me!

[unfortunatetheorist]

Is Klaus' legal logic of The Bad Beginning sensible?

* Joint Theory: @unfortunatetheorist with @snicketstrange *

Klaus's speech to the audience during the events of The Bad Beginning had a carefully thought-out structure, anchored in deeply rooted legal, but more so ethical, principles. In defence of his sister, who was forced into a marriage, Klaus appears to have adopted a multifaceted approach to challenge the marriage's validity.

Firstly, John Locke.

John Locke was one of the first people to suggest that humans have natural rights. He also wrote a book about this called the 'Two Treatises of Government'.

Klaus likely invoked John Locke's arguments on natural rights to contend that the marriage was not consensual and, therefore, violated his sister's fundamental rights to life and liberty. The idea that the bride must sign "with her own hand" is interpreted here not literally, but as an indicator of action "of her own free will," supported by Locke's principles.

Secondly, Thurgood Marshall.

Thurgood Marshall was the first black Supreme Court Justice of the USA, who fought for the rights of black citizens against Jim Crow's extremely racist ideologies.

His defence of the 14th Amendment may have been used by Klaus to argue that, in cases of ambiguity or doubt, the judge's decision should lean towards protecting the more vulnerable party. This point strengthens the point that, if there is doubt about the how valid Violet's consent is, the legal and ethical obligation is to invalidate the marriage. The 14th Amendment to the United States Constitution is crucial for establishing constitutional rights and consists of various clauses. The most relevant for Klaus's case is probably the Equal Protection Clause, which states that no state may "deny to any person within its jurisdiction the equal protection of the laws." Klaus may have leaned especially on this clause to argue that, in situations of uncertainty, i.e. his sister's forced marriage, the interpretation/application of the law should be done in a manner that protects (in this case) Violet. This would align with the principles of the 14th Amendment, using it for equal protection under the law to invalidate the marriage and protect his sister's rights.

Third, Ida B. Wells.

Ida B. Wells was, similar to Thurgood Marshall, an early civil rights campaigner, who campaigned for anti-lynching (a word which here means, opposing the brutally violent act known as lynching).

Klaus likely drew inspiration from Ida B. Wells to assert that everyone has the right to be heard and protected by authorities, regardless of their age or origin. This argument would serve to legitimize his own standing as his sister's defender in court, neutralizing any potential prejudice against him for being a child or, perhaps, belonging to a minority (he and his sisters are Jewish).

Moreover, the presence of a judge at the ceremony should not be viewed as merely a formality, but a control mechanism to ensure mutual consent, something that resonates strongly with Locke and Marshall's ideals about the role of government and law. Thus, if either of the spouses gave any evidence to the judge that the marriage was conducted under duress, the judge would be obligated to invalidate the marriage. Violet's chosen signal was to sign the document with her left hand instead of her right hand. As the judge explained, the marriage could be invalidated due to this discreet yet appropriate signal.

Lastly, the word "apocryphal" that Lemony uses to describe Klaus's argument suggests a non-conventional but insightful interpretation of the law, something that seems to echo Marshall's "doubtful insights" and Wells' "moral conviction." Instead of resorting to literalism ('literally' - with her own hand, i.e. Violet's dominant hand), Klaus's argument was much deeper and grounded, touching on the very essence of what legislation and the role of judges are. That's why Justice Strauss was so fascinated by the young boy's speech.

In summary, the historical references evidence that Klaus wove these diverse elements into a cohesive and compelling argument, utilising the legacy of these thinkers to question and, ideally, invalidate his sister Violet's forced marriage.

¬ Th3r3534rch1ngr4ph & @snicketstrange,

Unfortunate Theorists/Snicketologists

[bcbdrums]

📂 Go fam HC's?

Thank you for the ask!!!!

First of all, unpopular opinion but I do not headcanon that their names follow the first-letter format. So, no H-name for Hego, no Sh-name for Shego... It's something I just can't stand. I get why people do it, it fits with the KP universe... Still, I just cannot.

But, moving on from that.

This....this is gonna be long. Sorry not sorry. Huge Go fam dissertation under the cut.

Hego (I apologize in advance for the mini-fic you're about to read and that my HC's about the others aren't nearly as broad)

Brendan is his name. I HC a bit of an Incredibles world in his mind from the very beginning of the movie, where he sees all his actions as pure and all "evil" must be stopped no matter what. Has multiple blind spots, and Shego's leaving didn't really do anything to take those away. No, what took those away were his girlfriend... One day he was forced to save a girl from a hit and run without changing into costume, there was no time. And as he was out of costume he had no excuse to vanish. And he didn't want to, seeing this lovely girl with the soft brown hair and kind, inviting eyes that suggested she would hear everything he ever had to say and happily. So he started dating Sarah and eventually told her the truth. He cared enough about her to reveal his secret identity. But the hero world still had its hold on him, and he could never say the L-word to her. And she knew... She knew that he was trapped in that world. So when she went away to college they didn't officially break up, but she just...stopped returning calls or answering letters. And he knew too, after the first few weeks, but he didn't want to admit it to himself... And over time, he found that missing Sarah not only distracted him from hero-work... But it was more important to him. He really, REALLY struggles to wrap his mind around this. His solution however is just to take Shego's parting advice to him... To go to college. So he finally, secretly and sheepishly, enrolls in a university and hopes he'll one day be able to work through whatever it is that he is... Less for himself... And more for the hope that Sarah might still be there when he can make himself worthy of her someday. (This story of Sarah is a WIP I've never finished btw lol maybe I'll be inspired now or maybe I'll be satisfied since I tossed it out into the public finally after like four years.)

Shego

Her name is Rachel. I could have honestly gone with Rhonda or Roxanne, and even now I lean toward Rhonda the most strongly. But Rachel is what I wrote into fic, so that's what I'll stick with. She's possibly the most tragic of the siblings. The only girl in a family of boys who are all so extremely boy. And then the comet... Family falls apart... They're put under the custody and rule of Global Justice, as weapons to be used at their whims. Not all of this is revealed to the children really, but Shego knows. No mother to help her in anything growing up, no real life at all... She wanted to be a cheerleader. She really, really, wanted to be part of that crowd. To do her hair and makeup and nails and wear the uniform and stand on top of the pyramid, to feel like she was flying, but even more to feel that support of the people holding her up--friends who she knew would have her, both in that moment and metaphorically... People she could invite in and trust. But she couldn't have that. She had to have a secret identity. And she had to go out on missions instead of to high school football games. So it was a dream never realized. She finally DID leave though, went to college, chose teaching mostly because the only worlds she knew were GJ hero-work and...going to school. Nothing else existed in her life. She tried to get custody of her younger brothers, but it never worked out. And the teaching... She was simply a fish out of water. She tried. She genuinely, truly, tried to be a normal person for about a year out of college. But she had no skills, no support, and didn't know how to ask for help and even if she did...wouldn't have known what to ask. So she left. She gave on on hero work and gave up on being normal. The only freedom at all was in a blue-skinned man who didn't know her name when she walked into the room. She wasn't the celebrity. She was a stranger to him, and finally for the first time in her life had a fully clean slate. She could finally find and make herself, and did so at the side of another person who life had done dirty, and who never, ever judged her for anything at all. It was the first thing about Drakken that made her look at him more closely, and she learned how to be a friend, an enemy, a family, and a life partner through him.

Mego

His name is Brody. I just see tall wiry guys with that name. Maybe cuz of Adrien Brody lol I only just realized that connection, that's exactly the reason. Anyway. Uh. Actually... I got nothing. I had zero feelings for this character when watching the show and anything I have right now is just whatever is in my fic "Forget the Days Gone By" which I don't remember and I'm too lazy to link sorry and...yeah this is just not a character I care about. The one who cares about him is @gothicthundra and anything I could try to say about him here would just be her fantastic headcanons, sooooooo ask her haha.

Wego

Names are Dylan and Alex. Dylan after one of the Sprouse brothers and Alex after one of the twin bro characters on Full House. Yeah that's it for these two as well. I got nothing. Except well...I guess since they were given their powers and sucked into being heroes at infancy, they'd be the most deluded and have the most to gain from escaping it all someday. And I headcanon that Shego adores them and wants to take them away but she never could, Hego and GJ (the evil overlords responsible for Team Go in my headcanon) would never allow it... Yeah sorry I am just into into them.

All right I'm not as lazy as I thought. Here is my Team Go backstory/Shego backstory fic, Forget the Days Gone By. Sorry this lost steam halfway through. I'm just not into Team Go.

[kaifish-pond]

Howdy Hai! I’m Kai (Oshun/Fox also work!)

I’m a regressor, but this blog is not ONLY regression, but I try and keep it PG, PG-13 at absolute most (Social Justice Stuff gets posted here which is why it gets bumped in rating)

I don’t often look at messages, but I dont mind if you send me a message, it just may take a LONG time for me to get back to you!

I am a relic in internet terms ig. I’m 27 (So I’m a Zillennial, was born at the VERY tail end of ‘96)

I am nonbinary, I was raised as a woman, and still ID strongly with femininity and girlhood, BUT I am still nonbinary bc I do not feel fully woman. I’m like a femme genderflux person with a leaning towards agender. I also use Neopronouns; Pupself and Oceanself, but you can also use She/They and sometimes he

This account is my main account and is the one I follow from. 

I LOVE invertebrates! Right now I’m obsessed with Eresus hermani and Arthrosphaera fumosa. They are BOTH so cute it's maddening! My Nonnie says in the next couple years I will be able to build my own Invertebrate shed!

I have a GREAT love for the Devonian Period, it is ABSOLUTELY FASCINATING! My favorite animal from the period is Dunkleosteus, they were TANKS, just so badass! I also have a soft spot for Tikaaliks (Look em up! They are so cute)

Disability Corner!

I have several Disabilities/Disorders here’s a short list:

AuDHD, BPD, Schizoaffective, C-PTSD, Colitis, NAFLD, COPD, Spondylolisthesis (Anterolisthesis), Asthma, GERD and more :/

I am considered Medically Crippled as I have a disc slippage and pars defect. The cushioning thats supposed to be inside my disc or whatever is squeezed out and pressing against my spinal cord/nerve…

My Pain Management Doctor suggested I get a cane/walker. So hopefully next month I can get a walker/cane

I was kicked in the head by my old horse when I was in the 6th grade and got some nice TBI from it. So I’m a bit messed up in the head, and it kinda changed my personality as well as gave me severe memory loss

I have Learning Disabilities, and was supposed to be on a IEP growing up, but my grandma wouldnt allow me to be placed on one bc I was also very smart in other aspects, such as being incredibly Hyperlexic and teaching myself to read and talk, etc

If I tag something incorrect PLEASE gently correct me, I promise it was NOT intentional. I just am incredibly new to this and social media in general as I grew up UBER religious and was not allowed to have social media much, and when I would sneak and get on it, I would be punished and yelled at. 

I LOVE learning and getting better as a person!!

My Regression Fandoms

Just a smol list of fandoms I like to create Age Regression content for!

ATLA (regressor Zuko and cg Sokka are my faves, but also Flip Katara and Regressor Aang! And Regressor Toph and Cg Sokka)

Scooby Doo (I havent watched every movie/series/etc. I WILL NOT do content for that Velma Show on Max)

Breaking Bad (Transmasc Flip Jesse Pinkman FOREVER + CG Jane)

Dr Who (I have BARELY watched this show, but it consumes my brain)

Sally Face (I havent watched a Sally Face Playthrough since I was a kid and really dont remember much beside wanting Larry/Sal to be my big brothers)

Steven Universe (I have SEVERE issues with this show, but I still love it)

Diary of a Wimpy Kid (I’ve only seen the first movie, but Devon Bostick as Rodrick was AMAZING + Him as a big brother CG would be AWESOME)

Metalocaylpse (Toki is a canon age regressor!!) 

The Hobbit/Lord of the Rings (I havent read/watched in FOREVER, i used to use the movies to help me fall asleep tho xD)

Degrassi (OMG THIS SHOW RULES MY LIFE! I’ve watched from Jr High to Next Class COUNTLESS TIMES)

Teen Titans (Basically any one being a CG for Regressing Raven!! SSsssssSSssoooo CUTE!)

She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (Bratty Regressor Catra and Stern CG Adora)

[ceriseisland]

If you want advice, spe Red's personality is a balance between carefreeness and temper. A lot of writers tend to lean too far toward making him carefree (and dumb) and forget that Red is a passionate person who cares strongly about other people, and that leads him to get angry when people get hurt. The fact that Red cares about his friends so much was exploited by team rocket in frlg by getting him upset to draw out strong emotions that would attract deoxys. Red also grew up in an idyllic peaceful town, and that's probably why he has a simple worldview and a very personal relationship with his pokemon. Social nuances tend to go over his head, but he's a strong and famous enough trainer that it doesn't really matter. Generally he's a creative and empathetic person with a strong sense of justice who doesn't spend time worrying, unless the story gets angsty and he's unable to save people or something

so scared to write pkspe red................................... feel like i dont have as much of a grasp on him as i do game red.............

[all-about-seggs]

His Majesty, My King :

Rating: ❌18+, Explicit ❌

Pairing: Timeskip! Oikawa Tooru x fem reader

Word count: 1.6 K

Warnings: Blowjob, face fucking, possessive behaviour, just oiks being petty again

Jealousy;

An emotion Toru Oikawa was far too familiar with. The all consuming thoughts of never being able to reach the heights he wanted to or the people he cared the most about with him slipping from his grasp, everything he felt strongly about made him both happy and insecure. One would think over time this deeply seated fears of his would dissipate when he was the right person but the passage of time can only heal a person so much.

When it came to your relationship with Oikawa, keeping a close sense of security was a struggling point considering his career. For weeks you’d have to be apart with only a few calls exchanged, after a few years you thought you had gotten to the point where distance became meaningless but you were still unaware of the pent up frustrations he felt when you weren’t on his side.

Even if you unintentionally made him jealous, Oikawa was nothing if not petty when it came to your attention, glaring at animated and inanimate objects alike. Frequent eye contact with someone who was not him, your bright smile and the other wonderful features of yours he adored was something he had the right to see the most and there was nothing he hated more than having his perfect moment interrupted.

Today seemed like just one of the rare occasions where he refused to calm after you paid moderate attention to your highschool friend you met by chance at the bar you were dining at. The person in question sat next to you in the bar stool and started reminiscing about the old days and you were trying to be polite but the same wasn’t true for your boyfriend.

“Don’t you think you’re getting a little too touchy feely there pal?”, slinging one arm around your waist he glared at your acquaintance, the creases between his brows deepening as his mouth curled into a dangerous smile.

“Relax Toru, it was an accident, he just brushed off a lint from my hair” you try to reason with him but his rage already got the best of him.

“ It’s not an accident when it happens twice”, his low baritone was only slightly different from a growl and you knew he was going to difficult.

Wanting to avoid the drama that would surely follow if you kept quite you pulled Oikawa by the arm to exit the buliding, leaving your stunned acquaintance behind with a silent apology.

The cold December air caressed your cheeks as soon as you both were outside, strutting alongside an angry looking Oikawa you kept gazing at his profile to catch any opening to talk him out of his annoyance. His claw like grip on your hand threatened to cutoff it’s blood supply and to any by stander it would probably seem like you were getting dragged off by a maniac.

The previously dull neon lights of the streets soon changed to twinkling starlight that lit up the whole path indicating the lavishness of the main market. The prominent vein bulging from the side of your boyfriend’s forehead made you decide against asking what you were doing in the overpriced high end lane instead of the parking lot where his equally fancy car laid.

Soon he stopped in front of a high rise building which clearly looked like a hotel and strutted inside as if a regular in the place. You saw him talk to the receptionist about the stay and honestly all you could think about his rushed tone that couldn’t wait to get you alone and with his hand still clasped to yours, you entered the elevator.

A standard gasp of awe didn’t do the room’s decadence any justice. Perched in the 50th floor, the two of you entered the lavish presidential suite of the hotel, a place where you’d never even think of stepping in if it weren’t for Oikawa’s habit of never sparing any expenses when it came to your dates. Just by stepping in the room you could feel the entire mood between you changing.

It was intimidating at the very least, with the tantalizing shades of red and black the entire suit reflected upon the rough night ahead. With a click of the knob, you heard Oikawa lock the main door.

“ If you haven’t figured it out already babe, we are here to make up for the time that got ruined by that ‘friend’ of yours”, spitting those words out he made his way towards the gigantic couch covered with dark faux fur, giving Oikawa’s form a menacing aura.

“ Strip”, he gestured to your dress that he picked himself for tonight and you were grateful that he wasn’t shredding it to pieces.

Starting with the zipper of your dress you slowly pulled it down and exposing first your chest and then the lacy black panties that matched your bra. You knew what he craved when his usually honeyed eyes got their dark glint so you put on the best show you could manage. When you reached around your neck to take off the necklace he stopped you.

“ keep them on and the heels too”, his deep voice reverberating from his throat filled the otherwise silent room.

Following his instructions, you now stood before him, stark naked except for the glittering necklace and shiny heels that matched your discarded dress. He eyed every single one of your dips and curves before giving you an appreciative nod.

“ You know what to do now, right?, After our evening got ruined, I atleast expect you to behave during the night”, leaning sideways on the arm of the couch, his sharp eyes urge you to speak.

“ Sorry, I couldn’t straight up ask him to leave,” giving him your best apologetic look you continue, “forgive me?”

Pretending to mull over your request, he takes a few seconds to reply, “ Beg me”, his words were expected so you scamper near his seated position and perched yourself on his lap. You ran your hands up and down his thighs, the tips of your nails scratching his clothed skin which soon bloomed with tiny goose bumps. Moving your hand to the front of his crotch, you started palming his hardening erection. He watched your movements with delight, petting your own head now in a show of praise.

You slowly pulled your hands away and carefully placed yourself in between his legs, with your knees now on the plush carpet on the floor. Your fingers made quick work of his pants and then lowered his boxers to take his cock in your hands.

Gently feeling his weight you left feather light kisses on the dripping tip of his cock to tease its head while palming his balls, your attempts at worshipping Oikawa’s body showed it’s effect as the room slowly got filled by the sound of his sweet hums. He usually wasn’t a quite lover but today he intended to make you work for his approval so he bit his moans back.

His eyes met yours, the sight of you kneeling in between his legs, sucking away at everything he had to give made his member more sensitive to your ministrations. He threw his head back, eyes fluttering close from the incoming waves of pleasure your mouth provided.

Licking his shaft a couple of times you took him in you mouth, swallowing it as much as your comfort zone would allow. Hollowing out your cheeks you bobbed your face up and down at your own pace but it wasn’t long before a large hand crept up your head and tangled itself around your hair.

“No, you can take me deeper than this, can’t you? Or do I have to teach you how to please your master all over again?”

Giving you little time to prepare Oikawa pushed your head lower down his length and you soon felt his cock touching the insides of your throat. Starting off with a brutal speed he face fucked you with all his might. You clenched your fists to stop your gag reflex it induced, your mind focused solely on pleasing him. His previously soft hums turned into rough grunts and soon his hips bucked upwards to meet your mouth.

Every tug of his hand in your hair showed his thinning patience and you continued to deep throat him till you felt his entire body shake with the toe curling pleasure that was inevitably building up. The air from your nose was becoming insufficient due to the onslaught of his cock and you almost resisted his hand but caught yourself in time. You knew he was close and didn’t want to ruin his orgasm so you held out.

Slowing down a bit he pulls his cock out of your aching jaw and starts pumping his dick with one hand, the other still in your hair.

“Open your mouth y/n~ And make sure you don’t waste a single drop of it”, cooing softly he placed the tip of his cock on your extended tongue and shot his cum all over your mouth and lips. The salty fluid filled your taste buds and you gulp it down without a second thought, the fatigue from his rough housing settling in.

As his thick cum trickles down the side of your mouth and onto your neck Oikawa once again gives a sharp tug to your hair, making you look up at him, love and lust both swirling within you, blurring the line between them and you were certain that both of you looked at each other with heart eyes until his dark tone cut through the room.

“Now, let’s take it again from the top shall we?”

[eliwray]

CONTENT NOTE: We’re talking about Wolfe’s imprisonment for the rest of this comment.

You’ve been required to agree with me on everything up to this point. 😃 (JK JK! All good.) But this is different. This next thing touches on some real competing needs in the fandom, so YMMV, YKINMK, agree to disagree, etc. I want to start this with a disclaimer that I support my whump-loving friends, and that I think whump is philosophically and morally valid, regardless if my general personal appetite for it is generally pretty minimal. In this situation in particular, though, I’ve really had to take extreme measures to distance myself entirely from Wolfe whump. I cannot bear to increase, or savor, the suffering of a queer man, even before neurodiversity enters into it. It’s a big hit on my own justice sensitivity issues, and, well, I am an ND queer masc enduring this world right now. It’s already too hard, and celebrating suffering directed that close to home is the opposite of a coping skill for me.

Consequently, I haven’t spent any real time sharing my thoughts on Wolfe’s imprisonment in the fandom. Established fanon leans strongly a certain way on this subject (and that’s not judgment) and I know I’m an odd duck. There’s been no reason to go there. But I need to cover some of my perspective here, because it does interact HARD with an autistic Wolfe. So here we go. Again, YMMV.

Let’s start with this fact from our world: imprisonment is, all by itself, torture. We don’t spend much time on this culturally, though that’s very slightly changing with increased awareness of abolition politics. But the sheer forced confinement of a person is inherently violent and dehumanizing, and it is, by itself, enough to break a spirit. The series makes this point indirectly in the context of the Iron Tower, with kidnapping and luxurious imprisonment presented as a chilling fate even before the breeding program is revealed. (Eskander’s protest and best choice - decades spent in a room, separated from the breeding program - is still torturous.)

Someone with an uncontrollable sensitivity toward justice facing an open-ended unjust sentence for something that shouldn’t be a crime is a rather unthinkably horrific experience, and is again enough to break somebody.

For an autistic to have no control over their sensory input is especially heinous. Even an incarceration perceived as tolerable to someone else is excruciating to an autist who cannot control their diet, clothes, movement or environment, and so flat out cannot regulate their own nervous system. When Wolfe is thrown back in jail, the first trigger for overwhelm is the smell. He loses a day to visceral overload at the smell that he cannot escape. It’s only when time passes and circumstances don’t immediately get worse, when he gets a little accustomed to the olfactory input and it slightly lessens, that he can think enough to realize that others in the prison need his help (justice sensitivity) and he must act on their behalf. This time, he can make his imprisonment mean something, and this is a lifeline. That moves him out of meltdown to begin to marshall his intellect again.

Caine withholds significant concrete details of Wolfe’s initial incarceration, it turns out. That’s not immediately apparent to us; we actually visit the facility, complete with devices for inflicting severe pain. We see Wolfe’s responses to being there again, and to remembering being taken from his home, all laced with clear CPTSD. And we have a letter from the Master of Cells mentioning interrogations and describing his decision to release Wolfe. We know Wolfe was imprisoned and suffered interrogations. But how that functioned day-to-day, we don’t clearly know. (We also don’t know how often he was kept solitary, another form of torture.)

Quall’s letter is a curious thing, and worth reading very closely. Qualls extensively describes Wolfe’s usefulness as an interrogation subject (long since expired) and Wolfe’s broken behavior. Qualls explains that his own stomach has turned in this situation, and that he is defying the Artifex regarding Wolfe’s treatment. Here’s a thing that has always stood out for me. It might be easy to read the letter as the head torturer saying that even he can’t stand giving this much torture to a prisoner. But, his list of reasons why the Artifex has gone too far does not explicitly include Wolfe’s treatment at the prison at all. His insistence that the Artifex has done enough and should leave Wolfe alone is backed up with a list of all the non-prison-related punishments: destroying his invention and research, and erasing Wolfe from the records. And that’s it. Qualls is well aware of the toll those actions alone took on Wolfe. We can also imagine here that if Wolfe has a justice sensitivity as described above, that content might reveal itself extensively in prolonged violent interrogation, and Qualls might know well how Wolfe enduring prison for the ludicrous crime of having invented the printing press would weigh profoundly differently on the man than enduring horrors for a more righteous cause.

Qualls does not mention any element of Wolfe’s imprisonment as an inciting factor in his decision, only that interrogation is providing them nothing anymore and so is fruitless. Now, one argument here is, Qualls as a person just doesn’t make the argument that too much torture is ever wrong; it’s only a waste of time and resources. But I’m very aware that Qualls points out a man broken beyond what he would wish for him, and yet he does not actually name his torture as the thing that broke him.

Maybe Wolfe got more torture than Qualls usually gives political prisoners, and that is Quall's motivation. But also, Wolfe is not under any obligation to be a Superman character. Maybe, Wolfe experienced the totality of imprisonment in a way others don’t, and an already dehumanizing experience is entirely unendurable for him.

I know we generally experience Wolfe as a badass. Outside his imprisonment, Wolfe has voluntarily chosen a hard damn life full of war zones and danger and uncertainty. I think that’s part of what could lead a reader to think that breaking must take a LOT. HOWEVER. Here’s something that might be very important: in that life, he carefully preserves his agency over his most immediate input. He is sure to rise up the ranks early in his career and put himself in charge of what he personally does, to the extent he can. He has some control of his day to day life, and he has for some time. The hierarchy that controls him does not function like, say, the garda shaping a soldier’s life. His everyday superiors don’t choose his clothes, hair, diet or daily rhythms, the way Santi’s superiors have. The orders Wolfe’s given don’t generally control his instant-to-instant existence. He keeps a little bubble of control around his body. We can imagine he eventually gains a deep familiarity with life on a mission, unpredictable though it is, and has found a thousand ways to control his own patterns and routines, and endure for something he considers worth enduring for. Traveling exclusively with Santi can be more than keeping his love close; it’s familiarity, it’s shared patterns. It’s a shared understanding of how various minor challenges will be met. He can choose his footwear, his sleeping bag, often his food. He likely has a wealth of various sleeping and eating strategies he can use in frequently encountered situations.

In short, his other chosen hardships are fundamentally different from even an uneventful life in a prison cell. His open-ended imprisonment was not just an endless lack of agency over his body and mortality, as it would be for anyone else. It is also an endless lack of agency over the tools that help him regulate his own mind. That, for me, can't help but break him so thoroughly, and it makes him very human.

I’ll add here a little subtopic: autism is often hereditary. And also. Many autists have varying levels of verbalness and/or nonverbalness. Some autists have no issues with speech. Some of us do not speak at all. Some of us are selectively mute to varying degrees in various situations. Both Wolfe and Eskander use mutism as a coping strategy for loss of agency, either by choice or necessity or probably both. We likely know at least one parent of Wolfe’s who is also autistic. Apply all that’s pertinent here to Eskander too.

Thanks for sticking with me.

One more post to go, for now, and that one is more of a crowd-pleaser, I expect. Stay tuned.

Hi there! So this series of posts is written by an autist - nearly a year out from a late diagnosis - and I am sorting out a looong resonance with Christopher Wolfe and building a case for him being autistic.

The idea that Wolfe is autistic isn’t going to surprise anyone ever! But my reasons for it might surprise you, depending on what you know about autism. So, without further ado, let’s start what will inevitably be a lot of words on this topic.

First, a few words about autism. Like many things in oppressive systems like ours, a personal perspective of autism built on information passively gathered in our culture can easily be chock full of misinformation. Autism has been overwhelmingly defined by non-autistics describing how autistic kids’ trauma-induced behavior impacts other people, rather than the lived experience, gifts or needs of actual autistic people of any age. I would encourage actively seeking out input from actually autistic people, in order to be informed.

Quick terminology note: ASD (Autism Spectrum Disorder) is a list of problems made by non-autistics and put in the DSM. Autism is a neurodivergence that I have a lot of pride in. The largest overlap of the two is, again, what non-autistics get bothered by in autists with PTSD from being mishandled all our lives. Living and thriving with and inside autism is a whole other ball of wax from that.

I’ll mention this too, because it’s the largest misconception and it impacts Wolfe’s characterization. Non-autistics decided at some point that autists have no empathy, when in fact most autists are easily overwhelmed by an abundance of empathy for other people, animals, and even objects. Check out “the double empathy problem” for further information, but the gist is, empathy works VERY differently for autist and nonautist brains, and communicating across that gap is fraught and complicated. And nonautists have the power to define most everything about mental health. And they decided a long time ago that the miscommunications mean autists have no feelings or compassion. That is incorrect.

Okay. Next up, Christopher Wolfe, autist. This will be a nonexhaustive list of ways he embodies autism, which I thought would come with a reread later this year but my brain wouldn’t let go of until I started writing it!

More to come.

[maxwell-grant]

So, any thoughts on The Green Lama (who unexpectedly became one of my faves), the Pulp Hero who is also a Superhero?

Much like other pulp heroes of the time, The Green Lama had multiple secret identities and a massive supporting cast aiding him in his quest for justice. Unlike his contemporaries, The Green Lama eschewed guns in favor of radioactive salts, magic, and sleight of hand. He rarely, if ever, killed his enemies. His tales also had an advanced sense of continuity, with characters growing and changing over time, plot points introduced in one story paying off several tales later. The Green Lama is a character of contradictions, driven forward by a faith he is forced to betray. It makes him flawed and imperfect, and in that way, one of the most human of all pulp heroes - The Green Lama: Scions

While not the "only" example of a pulp hero who is a superhero, The Green Lama is arguably the one who leans the most into the superhero aspect out of all the classic 30s pulp heroes that usually get brought up. I would argue that The Green Lama is the most direct answer to the question "what happens when you combine The Shadow and Superman together", considering he was modeled extensively after both in his forays into pulp, radio and comic books, and has also grown into his own character.

He's got the unique skills bordering on superpowers (that eventually became outright superpowers). He's got pretty much The Spectre's costume, except of course he came first. He's an urban costumed crimefighter wh deals with gangsters and criminal masterminds, and yet has an extremely strong stance against killing and carrying guns under any circumstance, even saying they would make him no better than the criminals he fights, which makes him by default the pulp hero that Batman would get along best with. The comics took it way further even turning the “Om Ma-ne Pad-me Hum” chant into a Shazam! transformation cry (Shazam came first, although the two debuted in the same year).

He's got a suitably punchy and dramatic origin: guy spends 10 years in Tibet and returns to America intend on spreading Buddhism's pacifist doutrine, only to witness the murder of children at the hands of mobsters the literal second he steps off the boat, and after spending restless days in the police station to see if they would find the culprit, he sees the killer walk out of the commissioner's office free, which convinces him he needs to take up crimefighting because the police are useless, and he outright calls the police "incompetent" in a letter to the papers that he uses to introduce himself to the world, which is not something you find often in 30s/40s fiction even if's an implicit part of the pulp hero/superhero fantasy.

He had a stronger sense of continuity than most pulp heroes were usually afforded. He has a lot of the pulp hero stock and trade like the assistants and the pseudo-science and the odd radio gadgets and of course the Orientalism that we'll get into, but remixed in a pretty cool way that allows him to stand out from his inspiration. He's got incredibly weird aspects to him like the fact that he gets enhanced abilities from crystallized salt or even becoming radioactive (which could be interesting to explore considering "radiation" became the go-to origin for superpowers in the 60s). He's got an allright supporting cast and Magga, while ultimately a deus ex machina, is a very interesting addition to it and I wish her mystery was played up more often in subsequent stories past the original run. There's a lot about The Green Lama that really works, he was incredibly successful at the time and he's managed to thrive over the years lot more than most of his contemporaries

Despite all the powers he wielded he felt impotent, nothing more than a rich boy playing the games of gods. He had chosen the path of the Bodhisattva, sacrificing himself for the good of all sentient beings, but even so the weight of responsibility, the lives of so many in his hands, threatened to crush him. It was tempting to turn away, to deny his calling, but the life of a Bodhisattva demanded more; and it was only recently that he had begun to realize how much it truly required.

The main problem with The Green Lama, and by problem I mean "the character works fine for his time but this is seriously holding him back from becoming sustainable again", is the fact that he's a white rich man who fights crime by going as hard into Orientalism tropes as possible, which is inescapably baked into the premise.

Now, I will argue that The Green Lama was, for his time, a progressive character. The Buddhist aspects of his character weren't just backstory fodder or an excuse for his superpowers as they were to pretty much every other character at the time, Jethro was a practicing Buddhist, who fought crime informed by his beliefs, trying to respect them (and not exactly succeeding) and offering a wholly positive perspective of Buddhism. Nowadays, it creates a problem, but at the time, it made the character stand out from every other hero who had "traveled to Tibet" checked out, because Tibet and Buddhism were heavily incorporated into the character. The Lama may have been born merely out of a desire to cash in on The Shadow's newfound radio popularity, but Crossen took it much more seriously than his contemporaries and made it an effort to instill admiration in his readers towards what he was referencing, which he was pulling from books about the subject and the Pali language. Is research the bare minimum? Yes. But it’s a bare minimum that even today’s writers don’t do even having an infinitely bigger wealth of information at their disposal. 

To further cement my point: There's a particular Green Lama comic story called The Four Freedoms, which is about the Lama receiving a letter from a fan in the army who's worried about a racist private who keeps insulting the black privates while crowing about racial superiority, and so the Lama kidnaps the private and takes him on a tour through Germany so he can witness firsthand how his talk aligns with Nazi ideology, even specifically referring to Jim Crow's laws, criticizing how easily Americans fall for racial war rhetoric, and pointing out the idea of racism as a tool of tyrants to divide and conquer. It's not my place to champion this as some great representation and that's not what I'm doing, but if this all seems passe or simplistic or even problematic to you, trust me, this was still the era of Slap-A-Jap Superman, stories like this were absolutely not the norm at the time, even in other stories where superheroes dealt with racial discrimination.

He even caps off the story by stating that punching or ending Hitler is not the solution (although he lets Jones take a couple of swings) because Hitler is just one part of a much bigger problem that needs to be fought on all of it's forms. It's all very much afterschool special/anti-racism PSA, sure, but it's easier to mock those in our time. You find me a Golden Age superhero comic that shits on Jim Crow specifically while the hero tells the reader that Hitler is not the ultimate evil but merely "a cog in the wheel", part of a problem that's deeply entrenched in America's own shores (really, do, I'm genuinely curious if more of them did anything like this).

Does any part of what I said negates the fact that, at the end of the day, he's still a white man using Orientalism mysticism to fight crime? No, it doesn't. And if Iron Fist can't get away with it, if Dr Strange only just barely does, the Green Lama sure as hell can't. And you cannot downplay those aspects either lest you end up with a completely different character. It's a bit of a conundrum that makes the character tricky to approach from a revival perspective.

I completely agree with what you said here, Green Lama would benefit from a Legacy Hero approach very strongly. And Green Lama: Scions opens up an interesting possibility of Jethro Dumont not being quite what he seems, backed up by the fact that he wore disguise make-up in the original stories:

They had a lot of names for him in the papers—the Verdant Avenger, the Mysterious Man of Strength—but Reynolds had always been partial to “Buddhist Bastard.” No one had ever seen his face or, at the very least, the same face. Seemed like everyone had a different story. The Green Lama was white, he was black, he was asian, he was old, and he was young. You could fill a room of witnesses and no two would describe the same person.

Really I think if you just got rid of that one thing that holds the Lama back the most from catching on in modern times, I think he's the kind of character that lends itself a lot to long-term sustainability. He's already fairly popular as is, definitely an indispensable inclusion of any shared pulp hero or Golden Age superhero universe and definitely one of my favorites among the 30s American pulp heroes. And there’s ways to make the concept more interesting and workable.

Maybe The Green Lama is just a title that's been going on for generations, with Jethro being one of many to fill in. Maybe Magga used to be it, maybe the tulku that instructed Jethro did, maybe there's a new character with it. Maybe Jethro is just an identity used by an Asian-American adventurer to operate safely in the US, or maybe Jethro has a sort of Lamont Cranston arrangement going on. Maybe he's part of the reason why Tibet was the superpower capital of the world in the 30s or 40s, or part of the reason why radiation started granting so many heroes superpowers in the 60s.

The character's skillset has been fairly "anything goes" ever since his author made him a flying superman for the comics, and really he already started out being able to deliver electric shocks through his fingers by guzzling radioactive salts. He's a very weird character, and I will always argue that weird is what works best for the pulp heroes.

[oneoftheextras]

Colour Changer

Hawks x Bartender!Reader

masterlist  | tip jar

prompt: Could I request a fem reader who is a bartender who has a color changing quirk, she gains Hawks’ attention. He annoys her enough to change his wing colour for the evening.

warnings: alcohol & smut

Same shift, different night.

Being a bartender wasn’t easy - well the job was easy, but the clientele on the other hand, that was another story.

The bar was called ‘Justice’ the name made you cringe, as did the amount of Pro Heroes that would often visit after a successful day of fighting crime. It only took them a few drinks to start bragging to you about their day in an attempt to swoon you - unfortunately, this was the territory that came with the job.

The way you’d gotten the job was rather unconventional but your colour changing quirk kept things entertaining, and you quickly became the favoured bartender amongst the staff.

Of course this made a lot of your quirkless colleagues very jealous and spiteful towards you, but the tips you would take home every time made it more than worth it.

And it was always fun to see Pro Heroes drunk off their ass and fighting to earn your affections.

There was always one in particular, he would never physically fight, but his cocky tone and arrogant attitude were his weapons against the other strongly built men. He was definitely muscular but he seemed to never need to resort to that, mainly because he would never get as drunk as the others.

Almost every night he would waltz in like he owned the place, sit himself down on the bar stool closest to you and shower you with compliments and cheesy pick up lines.

He’d even settled on calling you ‘Dove’, you were sure it was some reference to his own wings, they were bright red and hung gracefully from his broad shoulders.

Tonight was like any busy night, all the regulars had taken to their perch on the first bar stool they could find to watch your ‘performance’, it wasn’t much but they seemed to love it.

You threw the cocktail shaker high into the air and focused on the liquid’s colour, as soon as it landed back into your hands you watched it transform from the dull clear colour, that it had originally been, to a vibrant red.

Pouring a little bit of it out into a cocktail glass before smacking the lid back on again a rolling the shaker from your shoulder down to your hand, again as soon as you griped the cold metal the liquid turned from a red to an orange.

The small crowd of men around you ‘Ooohed’ and “Ahhhed” like the normally did, until you had gone through the colours of the rainbow and made a rather colourful looking drink. 

“Who wants it?” you held the full glass up in the air proudly, a sea of hands flew into the air as they all started to fight over it, “Now now gentlemen, settle down, let’s do this civilly” you smirked, you had come to love how they fought over you.

“I’ll give you 500 Yen!” someone shouted from the crowd, “No, I’ll give you a thousand Yen” another voice called out, this went on for a while as the price slowly crept its way up.

“Ten thousand Yen” a voice you recognised thundered over the rest, the sea of men parted as the Fire hero Endeavour made his way through the crowd, he was one of your regulars. He didn’t speak much but you enjoyed his company, he would often break up fights that got a bit too out of hand.

“I think we have a winner” you smiled, pocketing the cash he held out to you and popping a small orange umbrella and a cherry into the glass for him before handing it over. 

“Endeavour” you greeted him, “Y/L/N” he nodded back to you, taking a sip of the drink that was the polar opposite of his personality. If he was here then that meant... “Hey Dove” Hawks’ voice stood out to you, cockily he appeared from behind Endeavour and slipped himself on the stool next to him.

Your heart skipped a little at seeing him, but you refused to let that show, “Chicken wing” you greeted him back, you also had a nickname for him, regardless of whether or not he liked it.

“You got something for me?” he raised one of his eyebrows suggestively, you saw Endeavour roll his eyes - he was already halfway through his own drink. “Depends what you want?” you leaned an arm on the bar and propped your chin up on your hand so you were level with him.

“Just my usual, but make it double” he took off his glove and brushed a hand through his hair, “Anything for you” you winked at him and got on with making his drink.

You weren’t flirty with all of your customers, some you would play along with their flirtatious jokes but never add your own, and they were the people that tipped the highest.

With Hawks however, it was a different story. There was something about his golden eyes and cocky smile that made your insides flutter like a butterfly taking flight for the first time. 

You couldn’t help yourself, you not only liked him flirting with you, but you actively encouraged him.

You’d even started to use your tips to buy nicer outfits that complimented your figure, just in the hopes that he would like what you wore. Of course the rest of the customers did too, which resulted in even more tips, but it wasn’t their attention you craved.

“Your ass looks good today” he commented, these types of remarks weren’t unheard of from him, it had started off slow with him calling you ‘beautiful’ that type of thing. It started getting more lewd when you’d bravely instigated it, by asking him if he liked your new top and if it made your chest look good.

If anyone else made such comments you would have kicked them out, but from him it made you blush and even turned you on a bit to know that he enjoyed what he was looking at.

“Hawks...” Endeavour scolded him, it wasn’t very often that his partner would accompany him here, so you supposed it took him by surprise to hear him talk that way.

“It’s okay Todoroki, let the boy dream” you glanced over your shoulder at him as you reached for the spirit bottle on the high shelf and seductively side smiled at Hawks.

Seeing him bite his bottom lip and shake his head, you turned your attention back to the bottle - it surprised you for a second to see a small red feather holding it mid air for you.

Cautiously, you gripped the bottle around the neck and thanked the feather shyly. Before it returned to it’s owner; it slid down your forearm and bicep, across your chest and in between your breasts, down your stomach, around your waist, glided across your ass and then vanished from sight.

Even though the feather was no bigger than your index finger, it was strong enough for you to feel the pressure of it through your clothes. You hated how it made you feel and the thoughts that would cross your mind.

Trying to calm your heart rate, you poured his drink the way you normally would but doubling it up as he had asked. The whiskey was a boring dark colour, so when you placed the glass down in front of him you taped it gently and changed the colour to a vibrant green.

Hawks handed you more than enough money for the drink and then drank the liquid down like it was a shot, you had to say you were impressed at his ability to hold his alcohol.

“I’ll have another Dove, do you want another... uh” Hawks turned to his partner to gesture at the rainbow cocktail he was still holding, there was a little bit left in the glass but he was already shaking his head.

You bowed your head playfully and filled his glass up again, not bothering to properly measure it out, “Any particular colour this time?” you asked him, he thought for a moment and then shrugged his shoulders “Your favourite colour” he smiled at you, putting his head on his palm like you had earlier.

Tapping the glass you changed the colour again, grinning at the shade that made your heart happy. “When are you going to admit this thing between us and let me take you out on a date?” he boldly asked, he often made jokes about taking you out for a night on the town or spoiling you, but that’s all you ever took them as - playful jokes.

“Can I?” you ignored his question and gestured towards his wings, they seemed to perk up on their own at your attention to them. “Uhh” for the first time since you’d known him he seemed uncertain, “Sure” he finally said, bringing his wing forward to touch your outstretched hand.

In honesty, you’d always wondered what his wings felt like, they always looked so fluffy and soft even after a long day of work.

When they touched your finger tips, you pushed against them like you were running your fingers through long grass and in return they shivered under touch in a ripple like affect up to where they connected with his spine.

As soon as that happened he pulled them away, “Don’t do that” he barked quickly, his sudden authoritative tone made you jump for a second, but when he couldn’t meet your eye you gathered that they must be sensitive.

“Sorry, I wont” you apologised and waited for him to bring them back into reach again, this time you didn’t stroke them like you really wanted, but instead with a quick tap you changed them to a bright white colour.

Giggling and stepping back away from the bar so you were out of his reach, and so you could admire your work. Your quirk wasn’t too powerful and changing the colour of something as big as his wings was hard, so some of the feathers were a light pink colour which just added to the hilarity.

“Who’s the Dove now?” you teased him as he inspected what you’d done, at first he looked shocked but when he saw how entertained you were he laughed it off.

Some time went by and most of the patrons went home, Endeavour was long gone, bars weren’t really his scene. You couldn’t help but giggle every time Hawks’ new bright white wings illuminated the dark room, it made him stand out more than normal and you could tell he was hating every minute of it.

“Okay, that’s enough, change them back” he said with humour in his voice when you came over to refill his glass, but you were feeling particularly playful today, “Or what?” you stuck your tongue out at him and poured the whiskey into this glass again.

“Come on, change them back” he insisted, this time his voice sounded more commanding than before, you met his eye and saw that he was very serious, you couldn’t help but smirk, “Make me” you said slowly.

He was definitely taken back by your courage to challenge him so head on, but if there was anything you knew about this man, it was that he would never back down from a challenge.

“Oh, I will, don’t you worry” he teased, taking a sip of his fresh drink. Grabbing a rag, you started to wipe down the bar, it was coming up to 11pm, “So when do you get off?” he asked suggestively after he’d swallowed a gulp of his drink, “Of work that is” he clarified - this must have been his sixth or seventh but he seemed completely sober.

“In ten minutes” you said, glancing at the digital clock on the electronic register, he knew when your shift ended because he was here every night you were, there was no way that he didn’t know your shift pattern by now.

“If you can wait that long?” you added as you put some glasses back into their place on the shelf behind you, when he smirked and continued to sip his drink without taking his eyes off of you.

The ten minutes went by extremely slowly but the closer it got to the end of your shift the harder your heart started to pound, the two of you had been flirting for months but you’d never seen each other without a bar being a barrier between you.

You’d never been alone together and that made you nervous, what if he didn’t like you outside of work? Sure, he’d asked you on a date multiple times in the past but you always brushed it off as a joke.

“I’m clocking out” you called to your boss as you typed in your code on the register so you could sign yourself out and finish your shift. The entire time you felt Hawks’ eyes on you, you watched him out the corner of your eye as he tipped his head backwards and finished off the rest of his drink.

You couldn’t help but feel nervous as you saw him rise from his chair and walk to the end of the bar to wait for you, without checking to see if he was following you, you continued towards the exit and left the bar.

The cold air hit you like an old friend, it was refreshing after being behind a stuffy bar for 11 hours. You knew he was following behind you closely, you kinda liked the idea of him being desperate for you attention so why not play hard to get?

“Where are we going then?” you asked him without turning around to face him, “I know a place” he replied, he was now walking alongside you - not only was he notoriously fast at flying, he was also a pretty good speed walker.

“Lead the way” you gestured ahead of you both as though you were metaphorically passing the reigns of the night to him. “I normally do” he winked and turned 180 so he was walking backwards and could face you.

“So what made you want to be a bartender?” he asked you as though he was genuinely interested in your answer “Only job I could get in this city” you shrugged, you weren’t lying, having such a boring quirk shut a lot of doors. 

If you didn’t have something breathtakingly amazing or versatile then your job options were limited.

“Did you want to be a bartender?” he boldly asked, considering this was the first conversation you were having with him privately it was very brave - but weirdly you felt comfortable around him.

“Of course not” you laughed a bit too harshly, you were pretty sure that no one grew up wanting to be a bartender. “What did you want to do? You know, when you were little?” he continued, this was one way to get to know someone you guessed.

Shaking your head to the ground, you had to chuckle, “I wanted to be a Pro Hero believe it or not” you hated that you were telling him this, it felt so awkward. Every kid wanted to be a Pro Hero, but to say it to someone who was actually a registered Pro Hero was a bit different.

“Why didn’t you?” he put his hands behind his head and looked up at the stars as he walked backwards, “Colour changing isn’t really a quirk that can make you a hero” you said flatly, stuffing your hands into your jacket, “I figured out pretty quickly that the Pro Hero life wasn’t one that would accept me” you were getting serious now.

It was strange how it was him that you were telling this to, you barely knew him.

“Speaking of, you wanna give me my wings back?” he turned his attention to your face, you’d be lying if you said you’d forgotten he wanted them back to red, but you wanted to see how long you could get away with it.

“I told you, make me” you reiterated your words from earlier, giving him a sly smile and a side eye. “You wanna do it this way?” the corner of his mouth crept into a cheeky smile, a grin full of mischief that you wanted to see more of.

Instead of answering him, you turned your head the other way like you were ignoring him and continued walking.

“Okay, you asked for it” you heard him say, then all most immediately you felt his arms wrap around your waist and your feet depart from the ground. At the realisation you screamed and clung onto the closest stable thing which turned out to be his shoulders.

“Oh my God, okay, okay, this is fine” you talked to yourself, trying to calm down but the ground getting further and further away from you was daunting. The few cars that were on the streets at this time faded into small dots as you went higher and higher into the sky.

Deciding it was probably best not to look down, you reverted your gaze back to Hawks’ face, he was still donning that cheeky grin and a cocky expression. “Hey, I asked nicely” he looked down at your frightened face with amusement as his colossal white wings flapped furiously against the night air.

“Put me down Hawks” you tried to sound intimidating, but your legs had gone to jelly as did your voice. “Say please” he teased, taking one had away from supporting you and using it to brush a wild strand of hair out of your face.

Sighing, you had to give in, you felt like you were going to slip through his fingers any second “Please, please, please put me down” you begged him, you hated that you’d crumbled to quickly when you weren’t even afraid of heights.

You felt his chest rumble as he hovered over the roof of a rather tall building, he slowly lowered you down until your feet touched the weathered surface, you were trembling, half out of fear and half out of pure adrenaline. You’d just wished he’d given you some sort of warning.

“Wasn’t that fun?” he put his hands on his hips proudly as he glanced down at the city below, you must have been at least 500 foot into the air, “Yeah, if you call the risk of falling to your death fun” you joked sourly.

“Do you really think I would let you fall?” he cooed, bringing his attention back to your face, he curled his wings so they were either side of you - it gave you a sense of comfort. It blocked the wind from touching you, so you felt as though you were safe.

“We had a deal, didn’t we? Change them” he shook his head towards his right wing as a gesture for you to use your quirk on them. Looking up at him through your eyelashes, you brought your hand up to his delicate feathers, as soon as you touched them they started to twitch and you could feel his body tense up next to you.

Not quite done with him, you used your quirk like he asked but instead you changed them to an inky black colour, you watched him groan as he noted your playfulness. You decided to push your luck, pushing your fingers gently into the velvet of his feathers, not enough to hurt him but enough to put pressure on them.

You were rewarded with a breathy groan from Hawks, you looked up at his face, surprised to see his eyes closed and his brow furrowed. Taking in his features, you carried on, gently brushing your fingertips under some of the bigger feathers and caressing the root underneath. Every part of his wing you touched quivered shortly after, you could tell by his open mouth that he was enjoying this very much.

It wasn’t just his face you noticed, but also the hard on that was pressing against your leg. “So that’s why you don’t let people touch your wings” you smirked at him, the sound of your voice making his eyes snap out of whatever thoughts he was having.

A soft growl erupted in his throat and his wings grew bigger as they enclosed around you. You were surrounded by the huge mass of his wings and there was no way out, not that you wanted to be anywhere else. Months of teasing each other from across the bar had finally led to this, and you could cut the sexual tension with a knife.

“Change them back” he commanded you, his voice taking on a dominant tone, “Like this?” you teased, pushing your fingers deeper into his feathers, this must have taken him by surprise because he let a moan slip through his plush lips. It caused a momentary distraction from the fact that you had changed his wing colour to bright pink.

“One last chance Y/N” he warned you once he’d noticed, “Or what?” you raised an eyebrow cockily, “I’ll make you” he pulled you closer to him so your chest was touching his, his free hand roamed around your lower back.

Feeling extra brave you matched his arrogance “And how are you going to do that, Hawks?” you wet your bottom lip with your tongue and smiled at him, tongue still in between your teeth. “Keigo” he said, “What?” you asked him confused, “My name is Keigo, call me that, not Hawks” he started to fold his wings over themselves, making the gap between the two of you smaller and smaller.

“And how are you going to do that, Keigo?” you corrected yourself, making sure you said his name nice and slow so it rolled off your tongue. If felt good saying it, and by the look on his face it sounded good hearing it.

His face was getting dangerously close to yours, he was gradually leaning in, if it wasn’t for him being so much taller than you then you would be able to reach his lips yourself, but the power was all his.

“Say it again” he breathed, taking the hand that wasn’t on your back and placing it under your chin, “Keigo” you said as best you could with your jaw in this position, you felt the grip on your chin widen to your jaw and the warmth of his lips on yours.

The first kiss was gentle and slightly dry, as soon as he parted his lips from yours you darted your tongue out to wet it again, all this tension was making your mouth dry.

In the second it took you to stick your tongue out of your mouth you’d accidentally misjudged how far away his mouth was from yours and you licked his lip as well.

Almost immediately, he smooshed his lips onto yours, the kiss was deeper and with open mouths, the hand on your lower back was pulling you in closer and closer until you felt like he was going to snap you in half.

You let your hands wander, untucking his shirt and grazing your hands over the skin of his V line. Following your lead, he wiggled his fingers until they found their way under your own top and his palms were pressed against the bare skin of your back.

This was already heated but you wanted more, for hours a day he would sit across that bar taunting you with his words and caressing you with stray feathers, you had been waiting for exactly this for months.

Without thinking, you reached for the buckle of his belt, trying to undo it as best as you could while focusing on fighting his tongue for dominance. After a few second he broke the kiss and glanced down to your fumbling hands, they were still shaking from the adrenaline of the flight.

“Eager huh?” he smirked confidently at you, you hated how cocky he was and you hated how attractive it made him, “I want you, Keigo, I’ve wanted you for a long time” you admitted to him as his hands guided yours in taking his belt off and unbuckling his pants.

Now it was your turn, but instead of unbuttoning your jeans with both hands, he continued his journey along your back and up your spine while popping the button of your jeans open with his other hand, “I know” he said smugly.

Instead of pulling your jeans down, like you thought he was going to do, he slid his hand into your underwear and used the tip of his middle finger to rub slow and small circles around your clit.

“I’ve wanted you too” he breathed, your hips were bucking forward every other circle that he painted, your breathing became heavy as you panted into his mouth that laid open against your lips.

Seemingly not happy with the lack of noise you were making, he ran his middle finger along your soaked folds and then slowly pushed it inside of you, making you moan - slack jawed.

“I’ve wanted you for a very long time” he reiterated his previous statement, fucking you with his finger a little bit faster with every stroke, “I’ve watched so many people try and earn your attention and failed” he explained to you, adding another finger into you, making you moan even louder than before.

While he was talking into your ear, you were too busy enjoying the knot tightening inside your stomach to notice that the hand on the small of your back had been replaced with his wing and was now pushing his pants over his thighs so they would fall to his ankles.

“Do you want me to fuck you?” he asked bluntly, your stomach flipped at the wording he chose, you loved hearing the cuss words leave his mouth. You were so full of bliss you could only nod as an answer to his question.

“Say it” he said, using his thumb to rub your clit and stimulate you even more, you were so close to your orgasm that you could feel your walls clenching around his long fingers, “Fuck me, Keigo” you moaned into his mouth, placing your hands on either side of his face so you could pull him and deepen the kiss.

You were so close, you could feel it, just one second longer and you would orgasm around his fingers - but then the pulled them out of you, chuckling darkly against your mouth that had stopped kissing him.

“Change my wings back” he commanded you, but you refused to give in. Instead you entwined your fingers into his wings and tugged them lightly, changing the colour to green. He groaned loudly and threw his head backwards, he loved how feisty you were.

“Fine” he growled at you, pulling your jeans down until they were around your ankles as well, he grabbed one of your thighs and brought it upwards so he could unhook the bottom of your jeans and free one of your legs.

With little to no effort, he grabbed both of your thighs and lifted you up so you could wrap your legs around his waist, using his wings to support your back. Immediately you felt the head of his cock poking at your entrance, until it pushed your folds aside and he sunk into you.

With a groan, he rested his head on your forehead. Once you seemed like you were comfortable he started to lift you up slowly and then, just as slowly, lower you onto him. He thrust his hips upwards to force himself deeper inside of you.

Every movement had you moaning, you bit your bottom lip in an attempt to quieten yourself but it was hardly working.

“You don’t need to be quiet, no one will hear you up here” Keigo grunted as he started to pick up his pace, it was easy to forget that you were on the roof of an extremely tall building when his wings were wrapped around you so tenderly.

The knot in your stomach was building up again, you weren’t really surprised considering you were so close before. Your whines became higher in pitch and more frequent as his thrusts hit your g-spot every time, making your insides tingle and twist in the best way.

Gasping, you were so close, you were trying really hard to muffle your cries so he wouldn’t know but the clenching of your walls around him gave you away. Your arms were around his neck and your hands grasped the roots of his messy blonde hair.

Then he stopped again, just holding his dick inside of you, unmoving.

He was denying you your orgasm and it was driving you crazy, “Please” you begged him, desperate for your release, “Not until you change my wings back” he smirked down at you, rubbing his nose gently against your cheek.

Groaning in frustration, you untangled your fingers from his hair and reached for his wing, you had given up, he won. As soon as you touched his feathers they shivered again and out of instinct he bucked his hips upwards making you close your eyes and scream in pleasure.

“Sorry, they’re sensitive” he breathed, you really didn’t realise how much touching his feathers affected him. When you opened your eyes again, you watched him stretch his bright red wings out behind him and shake them like a wet dog shakes his fur after a bath.

“That’s better” he smiled down at you, “Now, where were we?” he continued, and almost instantly he started to pound you at a ferocious pace, his wings were no longer around you so you could see the city sky line as you bounced on him.

You were no longer scared, the pleasure of him inside you and the adrenaline of being so high up were mixing together like a perfect potion, it pulled tighter and tighter on the knot in your stomach.

Feeling all of you muscles tense around him and your hands pulling his hair so hard that his Adam's apple was on display for you.

Your orgasm kicked off exactly where it had stopped and you scrunched your eyes together as you came around him loudly. You could feel his chest vibrate as he chuckled at your expression, he wasn’t mocking you, it was more a laugh of pride and arrogance - he was happy he’d made you cum.

His own thrusts started to become rapid and erratic, indicating that he was close as well. Still coming down from your high, you focused on helping him reach his own orgasm, you bounced on him to the off beat rhythm that he had set as best as you could.

You heard a growl in his throat start to grow until a loud moan erupted from him and with a few hard thrusts you felt him spill himself inside you. If you were closer to a second orgasm you were sure it would have tipped you over the edge again.

His hot breath made little clouds in the cold night air around you, his forehead had tiny beads of sweat that had formed and his visor was slightly steamed up. He lifted you up so he could slip out of you and you could find your footing on the ground, pulling your undies and pants back on again was slightly awkward, you didn’t know what to say.

“I don’t normally, you know-” you started but he put his hand up to stop you, “It’s fine, that was as much of me as it was you, and trust me I wanted to” he grinned at you as he buckled his pants back up again.

Once you were fully dressed, you started to run your fingers through your hair in an attempt to brush it, “Anyway, I’d hardly call that a date” he brushed his pants down as the dirt from the roof flew off of them in large clouds.

“Shall we be off?” he extended his hand out for you to take, hesitantly you took it and he wrapped his arms around you, cuddling you for a moment, “You promise you’re not going to drop me?” you looked up at him, being serious for a second.

“I’d never drop you” he kissed your forehead gently and then pushed off of the roof, letting his wings flap proudly and lift you off the ground. You had no idea where he was taking you, but you didn’t care.

Tag List: @mylife-demonstrates-murphys-law @hereticpriest @enagmaticether @anxiousgoddest

[homestuckexamination]

Seers & Mages

Good lord- These are two long posts from Magua-Vida and an anon about Mages and Seers. Y’all really like long talks about this stuff huh? @.@

Magua-Vida:

For that Seer VS Mage ask,

Seers seem more prone to look for outside confirmation for the knowledge that they seek like citations for a thesis while Mages defer confidently to their own acute judgment more often. This isn’t a hard rule, though. They’re tendencies or leanings.

It’s partly instinctual for Mages as well as relying on their own experiences and direct observation. Sollux is the Cassandra. Nobody listened to his predictions most of the time because, to them, he sounds like he’s constantly bemoaning how pointless a lot of their actions are. And to a degree, he’s right. But, he didn’t make the greatest success of his time by serving as the equivalent of a Doomsday Weather Forecast. 

He had to act on his knowledge himself. His actions served for the best of everyone still alive he cared for, but he’s also tired of all the murderstuck and plot, so he decided to join in with Aradia and hopped off the meteor adventure despite Karkat’s request that he stay. Meulin is also similar. It’s never revealed how she came to suddenly know that Meenah may have red feelings for Karkat. Might be gossip travelling fast. Either way, she just excitedly purrclaims that she “JUST KNOW[S] IT”. Even when Meenah is getting uncomfortable with her shipping talk, Meulin insists even when Lord English is out there about to go perma-kill a lot of ghosts that may include her. She also gives Horuss *very* poor advice as a moirail- telling him to smile despite not feeling happy and starting a relationship with him in the first place for a ridiculous reason of seeing their dancestors being moirails.

Mages tend to do better by acting on their vision themselves, as long as they’re not putting words in the wrong people’s mouths. They are doers as much as dreamers who don’t need much prompting from others to act on their wisdom for a better world.

Seers are more often the type to look at other people to reach their own conclusions- sort of like how Rose continues to look for meaning by parsing through what she thinks SBURB is throwing at her. Seers are the mission control of the group. Their role is to guide other people through, toward, or away from their aspects. This is one of the most explored classes in the comic, so this part is longer since we have more examples Anyhow…

It’s sort of like comparing how Rose & Terezi are usually good at directing other people, but not much when it comes to themselves. Rose is relied on by her group, especially Kanaya, as a source of reliable information- data that she dug up to guide her pupils to victory. However, she tried to look for any hidden morals to the story and struggles with not being able to when there’s no signal from anywhere that indicates “hey, this is the ultimate reveal that you’re supposed to learn about”. Oh, and Doc Scratch manipulated her by dangling iffy info in front of her nose like a kitty treat with a helping of non-answers, omission, and misdirection. Oh, and she and a fellow Seer got drunk for a period of time. Perhaps… it’s better that she looks for her own meaning or make her own.

Terezi is known for being good at being perceptive and manipulative. Even Karkat tells Vriska that. She dissects how other people think so, to summarize her words, they won’t end doing something stupid and irrational in the chaos. But, she’s also highly dependent on others’ input. Her self-esteem issues, romantic attachment to the wrong people, and even her blind justice, are all strongly connected to external sources, but also her own poor choices.

Kankri, like Meulin, is a more negative showcase of a Visionary. He aims for his group to be more sensible as a community by teaching them to be extremely sensitive to trigger warnings by scolding and preaching to those who violate his gospel. His stubbornness and trigger-happy lessons end in him failing to lead the Alpha Trolls, similar to Meulin’s insistence in making her ships sail in sweet seas. His Alternia self is a more positive Prophet, at least. One of his m9n9- I mean, dial9gues include him trying to look for a fault in his methods (and of course he never sees any). It’s like any teacher trying to see a flaw in his syllabus. 

Seers do better by directing and guiding other people, but also need to reexamine their gathered research and not be too reliant on dubious sources, lest their worldviews and sense of self would be easily shattered.

To summarize,

Class:Source of Knowledge:Action

Mages:Internal:Act on Their Knowledge Themselves

Seers:External:Guides Others

Again, these are just overgeneralized wording. There are times when Seers act themselves like Rose destroying LOLAR ruins to find secrets and Terezi rigging the bet for Vriska’s fate as much as there are a couple Mages that guide and teach others to follow their ideals. It’s how often they do and where they conduct their understanding that set them apart. If anyone has anything to add or construe, feel free to do so.

Of course, both classes can be blinded in different ways. Blind Prophets and all. But that’s a different topic for another time.

Anon:

For me, the difference between mages and seers are that mages tend to act more subconsciously while seers tend to act more consciously. Mages are based more on understanding while seers are more on knowing. Mages experience their aspect through different means and because of that, it gives them an understanding of it. Due to the experiences they accumulated, they act subconsciously, not needing to take time to consciously think because they act more on the subconsacious thoughts that they already have which allows them to constantly be in motion during a predicament, making them passive thinkers but an active class; on the other hand, seers are more active with their thoughts despite being a passive class. Because of their ability to see with their aspect, they tend to know more than to understand. Like, they may know exactly what happened but they don't immediately know why it happened. They tend to take their time to consciously think of the situation they are presented while mages understand the situation because of the countless experiences they have with their aspect, leading to an immediate subconscious conlusion based on their understanding (Basically, seers are more on the 'what' and mages are more on the 'why'). With the knowledge of seers and them being a passive class, they tend to guide people with their aspect while mages are more solitary and independent because they have their own understanding of what they should do. Of course, there are times when mages can act seer-y and seers can act more mage-y but that is circumstantial. Mages can also guide people with their understanding of their aspect and seers can also be solitary. To me, I believe that all of us have a primary class, a secondary class, etc. So based on the other classes that someone may be leaning towards to, that person being either a mage or a seer can be affected by this factor. Do know that I only described mages and seers as pure classes without having any mixture of any of the other classes so it's fine to not feel a complete relation to these classes if anyone is a primary mage/seer because their secondary and other classes they lean toward to may affect how they act.

[sin-of-jess]

Hawks(Keigo Takami)

Type:  Smut

~

I didn't think twice about the click I heard when I locked the door to Annati Cafe. There had been a fight between a few heroes and villains a couple of blocks over, and many bystanders had chosen to visit the cafe I managed once all the action was over.

This part of town was mostly a shopping district, so this was a familiar type of day for me. Letting a huff of air pass, I crane my neck a touch to see if any of the disasters from earlier was visible. Not seeing anything I just shrug and make my way to the counters. Doing the routine final touches that my coworker Nani tends to miss, I move towards the door that led to the storage room.

The ceiling was significantly higher in this room, and the wall lights didn't brighten the top of the back shelves. Using my illuminate quirk, a soft ball of light forms at my fingertips. Giving a gentle push, the ball bobs in the air a few times before going still just before the ceiling.

Seeing the box at the very top shelf, I want to curse the nearly 7-foot Annati, who is the only person who uses the shelves that high. "So you're who I want," I mumble to the box.

"I hear that a lot." I hear behind me. I let out a quick shriek as I spin around, coming face to face with the winged hero.

"H-Hawks!" I shakily say, heart still in my throat as I give a quick look over the handsome blonde. "How did you get in?"

The hero jabs his thumb over his shoulder, "Was gonna stop by for the usual, but noticed it was 5. I was leaving when my hand nudged the door and it budged." He explained.

"Oh no," I sigh aloud, "Annati-san says the door hasn't been closing properly for her, I bet it did the same and the lock didn't work."

Hawks took a step closer, crossing his arms with a smirk, "it's a good thing I was who popped in, and not some bad villain out after a pretty lady." I felt a shiver down my spine. "So which box did you need?"

"Huh?" I turn my head slightly to the side, confused for only a moment. "Oh!" Spinning on my heels, I point up at the box with dark pink lettering. "It's the one saying Suguwora!" I felt my cheeks heating up when I felt his breath on my neck as he leaned in to see where I pointed. It had been enough time that the ball of light was losing its glow, but Hawks had no problem lifting himself and grabbing the box. The room was somewhat cramped, but he only needed one flap of his wings after a jump to grab the box.

I felt bashful as I shifted my hair back in place, the wind of his wings causing papers and empty boxes to flitter around. He places the box on a shelf beside me, leaning against it with a lopsided grin. "That's that, anything else you need help with?"

the L shaped shelving system meant I couldn't step back again, I'd only bump into more shelves.  Nonetheless, the winged hero was only a step forward, and I was beginning to feel flustered. "N-no! I think that should be it."

He took a half step closer, fingers sliding down my arm for a fleeting moment, "It's a shame, my favorite thing to do is help beautiful women."

I think every inch of my skin turned red. Was that a compliment? I wasn't used to such bold flirtations, and I wasn't sure how to react. I shuffled on my feet as I looked away, "Well I'm sure there are plenty of pretty girls to save." It was hard to feel on the same level as someone so glaringly gorgeous as Hawks was, and the photo's don't do nearly enough justice to the real thing in front of me.

"Yeah, but I'd rather do it with beautiful ones like you." He spoke, leaning over me and giving me a smoldering look.

Had it been some random guy, I'd be angry by his brazen intents; there was something about the pro hero Hawks that made my insides twist and panties moisten. I wasn't one for flings, and this certainly wasn't the setting to find one, and yet I felt like her next words defined where it would go.

Putting my shaking hands behind my back, effectively pushing my chest out as best as I could while still wearing the unflattering Cafe apron, I spoke in the only way I could without my voice wavering, a whisper. "What do you like to do with beautiful women like me?" I ask, pushing my chest out more and standing straighter.

The hero leans in, his warm breath dancing on my lips and yet never breaking eye contact. "I like to fuck 'em."

I wasn't sure how far the hero wanted to go in such a situation, but at this point, I was ready to find out. With nothing else to say, I turn my shock into bravery and rid us of the small space left between our lips.

His lips are soft, and I'm instantly melting into his touch as his hands find my hips. I put my hands inside his jacket, the tight shirt allowing me an easy feel for how strongly built he was. His lips moved against mine with expertise, feeling more and more flustered as the kiss deepens.

His hands slide from my hips to lower back, coming up to pull the apron strings, then down to the very top of my ass. The cafe uniform was simple; the black dress of a modest maids outfit with a basic pink and white apron with the cafe name and logo in black on the chest. With the apron now hanging loosely from my neck, I break the kiss long enough for a deep breath of air and to pull the apron over my head and to the floor.

When our lips met again his hands grew bold, sliding down and groping my ass lightly, as if a little tease of a feel. All the kissing had left me lightheaded, and the feel of his hands was only fueling the fire.

He pulls away, his hands finding my hips again. His gaze is clouded in lust, "You okay, yeah?" He asks, wanting to be sure he had consent before continuing.

"I'm great," I breathe, embarrassed at how visibly aroused I feel.

That's all he needs, and he's back to kissing me. His hands trail up my ribs, thumbs grazing along the underside of my breasts the moment they can reach. With no sign of hesitation from me, he grows bold as he massages me through my bra. After a minute, his hands travel back down to my hips, under my dress and up my back. The dress rides and stretches up to accommodate Hawks hands as he eases them to the clasp of my bra, releasing them in no time as my breasts drop to their natural perkiness.

He pulls his lips away to give light kisses to my neck as his hands move to my front, the dress hiking up higher as my [f/c] panties are fully exposed. I don't have a chance to think of how exposed I am when his fingers find my nipple, the left one given full attention while he palmed my right breast.

With nothing covering my lips, whimpers and light moans are coming from me as my hands migrate into his hair. The soft locks keep me grounded while my breasts and neck are given attention.

"Hawks," I whisper out, voice so full of lust I nearly feel surprised. It's as if he already knew, his hands going to my panties as his lips return to mine. He slides them down until they fall to the ground on their own, grabbing my asscheeks with a groan.

"You feelin' good baby?" He asks at a whisper, grinding his obvious erection into my front.

"Fuck yeah," I whine out, holding onto his shoulders for dear life.

He grips me better, lifting me up to where the very edge of one of the shelves was under my ass, my legs wrapping around him. He uses one of his hands to help support my body, the other squeezing between us to rub his fingers along my soaked slit. A moan garbles from my throat, my body happy to feel direct stimulation.

His fingers alternate between rubbing along my folds, and dipping just a knuckle deep into me. I moan as I grind into his fingers, wanting more. He obliges, putting a finger fully inside and giving a few pumps before adding another.

"You're so wet for me." He whispers in my ear, scissoring his fingers to enunciate his point.

"Ngh... Fuck." I moan out, my core hot and wanting.

He pulls his fingers out, making a show to suck both fingers individually. Once all the juices were licked off his hand moves back down, though this time it's to his own pants. He skillfully unbuckles and opens his pants with one hand, his impressive cock being freed to the cool air. I could drool right now, his cock long and thick; a prime example of good meat.

He pumps his dick a few times, unable to get eye contact with how hard I stared. "You want it?" He asks, already knowing the answer.

"Uh-huh," I answer, unable to think of anything but the cock in front of me.

He shifts slightly, then the pair watch as his cock slides into my soaked slit. He goes slow, pleasure shooting throughout my entire body at every inch he gives me. He groans once he's fully sheathed inside me.

I mewl as he begins to thrust, gripping onto his jacket as I grind my hips into him in sync with his movements. He slides his arm around my waist, supporting my weight so he could slide his fingers up my dress and back on my nipples.

"Fuck!" I moan, fingers going white as he speeds up and pinches my nipples. I can feel an orgasm coming, my hips grinding harder as my eyebrows furrow. I've had my focus on his shirt since his cock first entered me, and the look on Hawks face was enough to send me over. His eyes were hazy yet his face looked serious, eyes glued to my tits that were exposed while he played with them.

My back arched and my knuckles turned white, the hero name coming from my lips in an elongated moan as my head dropped back. His thrusts never slowed, and it felt like the euphoric feeling would never stop.

My breath quickens, the high pleasure making my head feel as if it was in the clouds.

Hawks shift the position, pulling my tits from the top of my dress before wrapping his arms around me. His hands are in my hair, gripping without actually pulling. His forehead touches mine, and he's got a cocky grin.

"You cum fast Y/n." He speaks lowly, eye contact never breaking. "Think you could cum again for me?"

I can't speak, loud moans the only thing my mouth does when I part my lips. Instead, I shake my head, yes, his cock hitting a new spot inside me that has me well on my way to doing what he wants.

He moves his head until his face is in the crook of my neck, his hips now pistoning with vigor as he kisses my damp skin. One hand has an iron grip on the back of his coat, the other in his soft locks. He's stopped kissing my neck, and the grunts and airy moans from his lips sound angelic.

The dam breaks again, my entire body going rigid as my pussy walls clamp around the thick cock inside me. My body is shaking as what is easily the best orgasm of my life flows through me.

"Ahh~ shit!" Hawks curses as he pulls himself out, the first spurt hitting my soaked pussy before my dress slides down and warm cum coats it.

Our breath is rigid, neither of us moving. Hawks was still in my neck, our limbs a tangle as we let our orgasm high come down. Hawks is the first to move, carefully holding me as my legs dropped down. I was far too shaky for him to let go, so Hawks held onto my waist until my legs could support me.

We finally pull away, Hawks fixing his pants while I realize the damage to my dress. Pulling my boobs back into the dress, I notice the neckline was stretched out. Looking down I also realize just where most of the hero's cum went. There were two white streaks up the bottom of my dress, the hem between the two streaks also painted white.

"oh no..." I groaned out at the sight of myself.

Hawks eyes go wide before he looks what only could be described as bashfulness. "I'm sorry, maybe turn your dress inside out?"

Though at close inspection, the inside hem was white as well, this side didn't look like cum at least. I turn away as I quickly turn my dress inside out, only realizing as I reach for the apron that I had shown modesty towards a man who had his cum on me. With the apron on, my ruined neckline was hidden away. I face Hawks again, "Decent?"

"Gorgeous," He replies with a flirty tone. "You'll need to fix your hair, but in all, you don't look freshly fucked." He answers with earnestly.

I blush at how brazen he is, but I'm happy I don't look as dirty as I felt. The loud ringing of the store phone makes me jump out of my skin, wide eyes turning to the wall phone by the door. I answer, blushing when I realize it's my boss, did she know?"

"So how many decorations do we have??" Annati asked.

I stuttered, realizing I was too busy with hero dick to count the festival decorations Annati had asked of me.

"Was the store busy? If you haven't gotten to it yet just text it to me!" She replies, thinking nothing of how disheveled I sounded.

"O-of course! I just got the box down, I'll let you know soon!" I tell her, happy to get off the phone right after. Hawks is beside me again.

"When you find your phone, put this in it." He hands her a piece of paper, numbers written neatly on it. He opens the door, pausing so he could speak, "It's been fun, we should meet up sometime." With a final peace sign, the Pro hero walks out the door and heads to the cafe front door. I watch him, feeling smitten at the reality of it all.

A hero wanted to fuck, and wants to do it again.

[virlath]

Hidden Trespasser mosaics

So I was researching some lore for a theory surrounding the environmental artwork in DAI, and happened to stumble upon this twitter post regarding unused mosaics for Trespasser. 

Coincidentally, I’ve been so deep in statues and elven god symbolism the past few days that I thought I’d chime in with some of my own thoughts.

From left to right in these artworks, I think we’re looking at four different gods involved in Solas’ slave rebellion.

Fen’Harel, Dirthamen/Falon’Din, Andruil, Mythal

===

If this hidden game file is anything to go by, it seems to confirm one theory I’ve had for a while- that Solas had help from some of the evanuris with his slave rebellion.

Because when you think about it, it’s kinda hard to believe he could have started a slave rebellion at all with his high profile and attachment to Mythal, especially when slaves seems to have been a big economy in ancient Elvhenan.

===

The gods in these mosaics

From left to right in the image

(Note: I actually posted some hi-res shots of the masks from DAO yesterday if you’re interested in seeing unedited screenshots, but I’ll break down my guesses here anyway.)  

1. Fen’Harel is obviously the wolf.

2. Dirthamen’s mask is easiest to spot because it matches the shape of his statues in DAO. Note that Dirthamen and Falon’Din have very similar statues and masks.

Falon’Din is the statue with the spear (recognised by Tamlen as “friend of the dead”) while I believe Dirthamen is the statue with four arms (this also strongly implies the envy demon in DAI is his corrupted raven, Deceit)

I believe Falon’Din and Dirthamen are two aspects of the same being, but how that actually works remains to be seen. Some people have suggested Falon’Din walks the fade while Dirthamen walks the physical realm and perhaps that explains their togetherness and separateness. 

Regardless, it does seem like both Falon’Din and Dirthamen were involved in Solas’ uprising due to the fact that both their mosaics are found inside the elven sanctuary before we see Solas’ mural removing vallaslin.

3. Andruil’s mask seems to fit most similarly to the third mosaic.

The overall curved shape mirrors Andruil’s bow in her mosaic, and the dotted indentation at the top totally looks like an arrow shaft. The eye placement in both the mosaic and the mask hints to me that this is very likely Andruil.

The big question- why would Andruil be helping Solas?

Perhaps because Mythal turned her to their side after she “sapped Andruil's strength, and stole her knowledge of how to find the Void.”

Or, perhaps Andruil isn’t as “evil” as people think she is.

Sure, she may have brought on the blight (although even this is conjecture, personally I feel like this could very well could be misdirection) and may have hunted “mortal men and beasts”, but who’s to say these beasts and men didn’t deserve what they got? Who’s to say she wasn’t corrupted by the void before she became the “goddess of sacrifice”?

One day Andruil grew tired of hunting mortal men and beasts. She began stalking The Forgotten Ones, wicked things that thrive in the abyss.

This implies to me she could have simply been hunting beings that had given her cause to hunt them. Remember, she was the only god that responded to Ghilan’nain’s cries for help, and at this time Ghilan’nain was one of the People, implying she wasn’t totally evil.

Andruil also has strong links to Falon’Din, because she and Falon’Din share the same symbol of the owl. What if Mythal meted out judgement, Falon’Din brought her judgement to them in the form of the owl (thus fulfilling the role of Andruil’s messenger as well as “friend of the dead”), and Andruil hunted them in turn to render Mythal’s judgement?

“Always keep an eye out for the noble owl. You never know: Andruil might have a message for you.”

It is interesting to see that the owl statue is always carrying what looks like a mirror or even dimension to another world (another prison perhaps?), possibly intended as a way to reflect the viewer’s own self and actions back on to them. 

Anyway, to me there are a number of possibilities why Andruil would work with Solas and co. Perhaps she wasn’t as corrupted as they thought. Perhaps Mythal made her forget so much so she agreed to help them. Or perhaps Andruil was the mole in the rebellion - the person who began the events that led to Mythal’s death.

4. I think the last god represents Mythal, due to the fact the shape is similar to the bronze statues found in the crossroads and deep roads.

There are in fact two versions of this statue - the sun, in the crossroads, and the moon in the deep roads. (brightened and contrast boosted for clarity)

The moon statue is strongly implied to represent Mythal, because a note is found near this statue:

These statues are old. Better shape than anything I've seen on the surface. Many of them are for Mythal, though. And Fen'Harel. Not in a spot of honor, but guarding, attending.

Question is, why would the sun also represent Mythal when Elgar’nan is known as the Eldest of the sun? 

Well, not only does the sun statue look very much the yin to the yang of the moon statue in the deep roads, the sun could refer to Mythal being both the sun and moon to the dwarves. 

These statues are notably different to other elven statues we’ve seen- notable for the fact they have a large base of rock, and they are carved in smooth bronze.  As these bronze statues are only found in this particular section of the deep roads where she controlled a lyrium wellspring, perhaps the dwarves carved these as a representation of her.

In the third note you find in the deep roads, a poem reads:

I am empty, filled with nothing(?), Mythal gives you dreams. It fills you, within you(?), Making our leaders proud. My little stones, Never yours the sun. Forever, forever.

It sure seems to me like Mythal was protecting these dwarves from something. Either that, or she was using these dwarves as slaves or minions in her operation and for some reason, they revered her enough to carve their own representations of her.

Morrigan says this of Mythal at the Temple of Mythal:

Let fly your voice to Mythal, deliverer of justice, protector of sun and earth alike.’

Similarly, Solas further says:

She was the mother,  protective and fierce. 

Regardless, I think there’s more evidence indicating Mythal was working with Solas over Elgar’nan. You do need Mythal’s passphrase after all to enter the elven sanctuary safely.

And if you want to take this one step further, check out the crown “Andraste” is wearing in DAO. Look familiar??? Maybe reminscent of the moon statue we see in the deep roads?

I don’t want to say Mythal was Andraste but...there are many signs that are hard to ignore.

===

More theory drabble

I realise a lot of the gods’ motives I’ve come up with above are based on conjecture and tbh, the writing for DA4 could go so many ways simply because of the fact that there are so many wide open threads that could be expanded upon.

These unused mosaics does indicate to me at least that the writers have a plan for how Solas’ rebellion actually functioned however, and that to me is exciting in itself.

One thing we can assume with high certainty is that Solas started the slave rebellion before Mythal’s death, because you need her passphrase to enter his sanctuary. Furthermore, even without these unused mosaics there are in-game mosaics of Dirthamen and Falon’Din in the sanctuary before we see the vallaslin mural.

This strongly implies to me that at the very least, even without this hidden game file, that Dirthamen, Falon’Din and Mythal aided and abetted Solas’ slave rebellion.

Further adding to this theory are the the rather compelling links to Dirthamen throughout DAI. For example, the gilded Fen’Harel statues in Dirthamen’s temple’s inner sanctum, Dirthamen’s bleeding statue in the Fade, Dirthamen, Falon’Din, Mythal and Fen’Harel imagery in the Knight’s Tomb, as well as Dirthamen’s statue at Calenhad’s foothold (where it’s implied he had a thing with Ghilan’nain). Not to mention- dual raven standards found underneath Fen’Harel’s sanctuary, as well as archer statues next to the eluvian as you exit (who I believe represent Dirthamen & Falon’Din).

Something clearly happened that led to Mythal’s death, and I’m leaning towards the fact that there was a leak somewhere within Solas’ trusted circle. Dirthamen seems to have been betrayed by someone close to him before the veil was created, because his statue in the fade is stabbed in the back and his eyes are weeping waterfalls of blood. 

As Solas says “...an enemy can attack, but only an ally can betray you. Betrayal is always worse.” 

And, when you tell him you trust your friends? He responds “I know that mistake well enough to carve the angles of her face from memory” 

It is assumed he is talking about Mythal’s own betrayal when he says this, but he could also be referring to the person/people who betrayed him and his trust. Personally, I think Falon’Din and Ghilan’nain could be key players in Mythal’s death at this point. We don’t know enough about the other gods to also make assumptions on their motives unfortunately. 

All in all, it seems to me like every one of the false gods were out to get one another, and Solas never even saw Mythal’s death coming because he was too arrogant/preoccupied with his rebellion.

If Solas really was Mythal’s oldest friend and guardian, his pride would have been absolutely crushed when she was betrayed and killed. The veil was likely a knee-jerk reaction due to his pride and “hot-headedness” more than anything- if he could be outplayed and have his own power and role as “guardian” outright questioned, then of course he would retaliate and raise the stakes even higher. It’s his MO- he has a means to an ends “you didn’t invent war” mentality, disregarding the collateral damage as long as he comes out on top.

This does make me wonder what intentions he has for the false gods once they’re freed though. Obviously Mythal wants her vengeance. But what of Solas? These false gods were his kin after all and the only ones who can truly relate to him on a level no mortal can understand. After all these years of stewing and realising his knee-jerk reaction cost him the entire elven empire, it makes sense he would want to restore what he effectively destroyed when his pride was hurt. 

To me it does seem like he truly hates the evanuris...but could he still be in leagues with some of them? Something I may not put past him, considering I don’t think he worked alone during his rebellion. 

[prismatales]

Fade

Word Count: 3.4k

Bingo slot: Vigilante AU

Pairings: Takami Keigo x Reader

Tag/Warnings: Slight violence

Synopsis: Dealing with this vigilante was almost like an endless game of tag. Hawks knew it was only a matter of time until he found out her identity. What he didn't expect was realizing she was closest than he thought. 

A new entry for @bnhabookclub's bingo event! Thank you @pixxiesdust for helping me bounce off some ideas! This one-shot's for my dear wifey @Hawks-senseis!

“Suspect’s heading your way Hawks. They’ve sustained a fair amount of injuries, should be a piece of cake for the number two hero.” The intercom died down with a wave of static. 

Sighing tiredly, Hawks kept his regular pace, flying leisurely across the dark sky cluttered with stunningly bright stars. The scenario above and the lights from the buildings dispersed all across the city, shining just as strongly as the dark sky in the middle of the night, are a scenario that he could easily consider breath-taking.

If only he wasn’t so busy chasing after this one particular villain, then he’d certainly be relaxing at the top of a building, admiring the view with a satisfied smile, allowing the soft breeze of the night to brush peacefully against his face. All while enjoying a nice, warm canned drink in the middle of this cold night. 

Maybe once this runaway criminal was finally trapped behind bars, ready to face justice, Hawks could actually manage to take that well-deserved break. And perhaps, some of his favorite yakitori would accompany that drink as well.

“Come on, where is he?” For a villain as quick on his feet as the reports mentioned, this guy was seriously taking his sweet time to show his god-damn face. Groaning impatiently, Hawks finally had enough and began flying in the direction the villain should have come from a long time ago. 

But what he witnessed in its place was more than enough to make the hero do a double-take. Not only was this villain face down on the floor, but there was also someone else standing tall above him, tying up the struggling, seething criminal, who kept swearing like a sailor as he attempted to get out of the restrains.

“What took you so long birdy?” Said person slowly turned around to face the winged hero. When their “eyes” met, Hawks couldn’t help groaning in disdain once he recognized that costume. A black sleeveless hoodie, accompanied by matching pants and military boots. But the most characteristic trait was that white kitsune mask, adorned with six stripes across the cheeks; two purple ones, and a gold one in between, a total of three marks adorning both sides of her ‘face’.

“You again? I swear this is the fourth time this week!” Hawks ran a hand all over his face out of frustration. Even with that mask on, he could feel the smug vibes around her, and he could almost swear she also gave him a sly smirk.

“You should know this by now. Vigilante work is illegal.” Eyes wandered up into the dark sky as he breathed in deeply, before exhaling slowly as he looked back down. Hawks turned his attention back at the woman standing before him with her hands on her hips, confidently angled to the side.

“And you should know by now that isn’t going to stop me. I’m a big girl, I can handle myself.” Jerking the rope in hand, she easily pulled the villain off the ground, dragging him in between her and the hero standing before them. “Here, Merry Christmas!” 

The villain was sent crashing down on the groaning hero, courtesy of a swift kick to the back. The near-collision was a good distraction for her. As Hawks became busy catching the delinquent, a loud “poof!” was heard, and when he looked up, there was a golden, glittery mist, and at the top of the roof, she observed him for a solid minute, before running off.

“Oh no, you won’t!” Hawks quickly pushed the stumbling criminal away from himself, and towards the arms of an upcoming sidekick that only happened to appear at exactly the same time this vigilante ran off on her own. Quickly spreading his vermilion wings wide open, Hawks took off into the sky, decided to catch this girl once and for all, so he could finally give her a piece of his mind. 

He had to admit, she was pretty fast. Once he got her on sight, she was already a good distance away from the scene, and she hadn’t even used her quirk to keep the distance with the blond. 

Looking back over her shoulder, he could almost feel that smug grin again as she kept jumping swiftly between rooftops, not losing balance for a single second as she kept dashing with an elegant and balanced step. 

Finally, Hawks eventually caught up and landed in front of her with a soft thump as his feet touched hard surface below, wings raised high in the air folded into themselves before settling down on his back. Hawks smiled at her nonchalantly as both of them stayed still, looking at each other for a solid minute before he coughed in his hand to break the silence.

“You do realize this is illegal behavior? don’t you, Fade?” 

“Fade” just tilted her head, feigning innocence while staring at the hero before her. She may be wearing a disguise to hide her identity, but even with it, Hawks just knew she was giving him a teasing smile underneath that mask.

“Oh? Is that so? What are you gonna do about it, pretty bird? Handcuff me?” She places her hand closer by the wrists, presenting them before the hero, it was a taunt, a challenging for him to arrest her at once, and for a second, he was tempted to clap those wrists in between the metallic restrains. “First you’re gonna have to catch me!” 

Fade’s body started giving out the same sparkly smoke from before, just to be interrupted as a hand wrapped itself firmly around her wrist, snapping her out from focus, and preventing her from teleporting away from the hero.

“I just did. Now, you have to report everything to the police and who knows? Maybe they’ll let you off the hook easily, maybe they won’t.” But Fade wasn’t fazed in the slightest by his statement or even bothered moving from the spot. “As much as I appreciate your help back there. I’m gonna have to turn you in for illegal hero activity.” 

His hand reached out for her mask. The idea of seeing her face for the first time after dealing with her intervenience for months now was so enthralling, that he completely missed it when something hit him on his side with force, knocking his breath away for just enough time for Fade to quickly escape from the hero’s grasp. 

“For one of the fastest heroes out there, that sure was a slow reaction!” Her teasing laughter echoed through their surroundings like that of the Cheshire cat itself as she held a retractile staff in hand. Fade began walking backward with a bounce on her steps before a golden, glittery mass spread around her figure before teleporting her away from the scene much to Hawk’s frustration. He was so close this time!

“Shit, she’s good.” 

Feathers fluttered wildly around in the air out of pain and pent-up frustration. This was the first time he managed to get this close since the very first time they met. He glared irritatedly at the spot where Fade once stood before him with a confident stance.

The chance to look for Fade disappeared just as fast when the shrill sound of his transmitter went off inside his ear. The voice of the sidekick who had taken the villain off his hands could be heard through the other side, as they gave the hero a status report.

Disappointed, he opted to call it a day before heading back home. Next time he ran into Fade it would definitely end with her caught. But right now, his body begged for some well-needed rest that unfortunately couldn’t be provided just yet, remembering the piles of pending paperwork, waiting patiently at his desk back at the agency, Hawks sighed tiredly before heading back to the office. Today would end up being one of those nights he’d spend sleeping on the couch even though he was single...

“So much for a nice, quiet night…” 

The next day was followed by clear skies, engulfing everything around with a pleasant warmth. At least this was something Hawks could enjoy with tranquility as he walked to one of his favorite restaurants in town, mouth-watering at the idea of having one of his favorite meals and one of the house specials. 

As soon as he stepped inside the small building packed with people, a cheerful chorus welcomed the hero inside. Every employee and customer inside greeted the hero eagerly, excited to see one of the top heroes coming for one of his favorite dishes and his usual meal at that small, but enjoyable local that greeted everyone inside with their tender, family-friendly environment.

After chatting with some of the staff and fans, Hawks quickly strolled towards his usual spot and took a seat, staring outside through the crystal walls separating everyone inside from the outside. Not only did This little restaurant had some of the best food, but it also had some of the best views he could ask for, the perfect spot to relax as he watched people passing by and at the same time he kept an eye open for any villain activity.

He may be on break, but you never know when a hero is needed, right?

The soft clank on the table catches his attention and he smiles knowing just who is beside the clothed table, serving a glass of cold water with a sweet smile on her face.

“Is nice to see you again Hawks!” You welcomed him happily before pulling out the small notepad from a pocket at the side of the uniform’s small apron, next was a pen that spun gracefully in between your fingers before its inky tip was pressed over the smooth, blank paper. “Let me guess, having the usual again, am I right?” 

The hero just leaned on his hand with a chuckle “You know me too well, don’t you, y/n?” He observed you, quickly writing down his order without having to ask twice for anything else. sides? something extra? You already knew his order like the back of your hand.

Speaking of hands….

If there was something Hawks as good at was being observant, as he noticed the bandage carefully wrapped around the girl’s wrist and the slight, almost unnoticeable wince she gave every now and then as she had to move her hand in a way that put pressure on the joint.  

“Aaaalright! The house’s special coming up hot! Same drink, as usual, right?” He nodded in response. Despite the discomfort from the small injury, you kept serving the hero with nothing but a cheerful smile and attitude of literal sunshine that always left the hero entranced.

A few minutes later, he saw you coming back with a steaming plate of fried chicken, but not just any fried chicken. This restaurant was well-known for its secret seasoning they used to marinate most of their dishes. Not only that, but it was also covered with this rich, homemade spicy sauce that left everyone on cloud nine after the first bite, and even those who weren’t fans of spicy food ended up obsessed with its peculiar flavor.

“Here you go Mrs. Hero! The house special with a side of fries, enjoy your meal!” As soon as the plate was placed down, one of his hands grabbed yours. His slender fingers traced the outline of the bandage with a soft caress that sent shivers down your spine.

“What happened to your hand, y/n? Is not what I think it is, right?” He asked, voice full of concern as you began stuttering.

“I-it’s nothing, I just tripped back home and landed on my wrist, don’t worry about it, Hawks!” You reassured the blond, pulling your hand back from his grasp before heading back to get his drink. 

His gaze followed after you for a while. For a second he thought it had something to do with an abusive partner until he remembered you mentioning being single. How did he ever forget that when the two of you have been throwing mixed signals at each other for months now? He could still remember the first time your eyes met when he came to check the place out for the very first time and how much of a mess you were, after all, it was your first day of work.

So for the time being Hawks just let it slip with some hesitation, eventually he stopped worrying so much before taking a small bite of his chicken and groaning with gusto by that mouth-watering flavor of the sauce, the food in this place was really out of this world.

If he hadn’t been so busy with his food, Hawks would have noticed the cautious look you sent him from the other side of the local, waiting for another customer to order.

A few weeks later…

Once again, Hawks was busy flying through the skies as he patrolled the city at late hours of the night. The way the building’s lights illuminated their surroundings was a sight to remember when you had the chance to see them high up in the sky. 

For once, it appeared that he was finally gonna have the chance to enjoy the scenario without a single disturbance. That is until he sees someone sitting at the edge of a rooftop, who seemingly had the same idea as him as they leaned back looking at the vast, dark sky.

That’s when he caught sight of that all too familiar mask. The mere sight was enough to make him groan internally, knowing that whenever Fade was around, the night would be anything but calm…. But then he thought, maybe this time he’d finally get the chance to find out just who was hiding underneath that mask.

Quickly, he landed a few feet behind the masked hero and tried to get close enough. But instantly she leaned forward, letting herself fall off the building before disappearing into a golden burst. surprised, Hawks strolled all the way to the edge and looked down, just to see nothing but that unique mist.

A foot quickly shoved him from behind, followed by that peculiar laughter as he struggled to regain balance for a second, completely caught off guard by the vigilante’s antics before his wings began thrashing wildly in a desperate attempt to help him regain balance. And once the hero finally was back on his normal stance, he turned back to give the cackling girl gripping the sides of her stomach a small glare.

“ahahaha! The look on your face!” She wiped away an imaginary tear, or maybe she was actually tearing up, Hawks couldn’t tell with that cursed mask “Should’ve brought my camera, that look was gold!” 

Fade’s shoulder kept trembling the more time she spent laughing at the winged, who’s only response consisted of a bashful glare in her direction.

“Oh come on birdy, don’t give me that look.” Fade walked up to him, hands placed confidently over her hips as she leaned forwards, face tilted up slightly to be face to face with the hero. “For someone who enjoys teasing others non-stop, you’re too easy to rile up y’know?” 

She quickly jerked her body back to dodge the hand that aimed for the mask, narrowly missing those leather gloves, which barely grazed that intricate piece of wood that did such a good job when it came to hiding her identity from both the heroes and the public.

“Geez, so forward! Buy me some dinner first!” She sassed, walking backwards again, with a turn on her heels Fade turned her back on the blond and began running away. The sound of wings fluttering swiftly pulled the corners of her hidden lips into a smirk when she literally felt as the hero quickly followed after her.

But if there was something Fade was just as good as Hawks, was at speed. Inhaling deeply, her body became surrounded into golden energy before she rapidly began teleporting from building to building, a special movement that focused on distracting her foes. 

Her little trick managed to confuse Hawks only for a moment, quickly he used some stray feathers in order to pinpoint her next location with the aid of their ability to detect vibrations. The feathers managed to feel a small trembling in the spot where she was meant to appear next and Hawks quickly moved in position.

Just as predicted, that golden burst appeared all of sudden and this time Fade nearly crashed into the hero standing in her way, had it not been for her quickly maneuver, placing her hands on the hero’s shoulder to propel herself high in the air, nearly sending Hawks crashing down on the floor.

“Getting slow, aren’t you birdy?” She mocked him, still in the air while he growled in frustration “Maybe you should tone it down on that spicy chicken and extra fries!”

…Wait a second…

He quickly turned around with eyes widened in realization, that sentence was like the missing piece he was looking for “What did you just say?” 

The realization hit Fade like a slap to the face, her body became tense once she realized what she told him. Just that little bit of information was more than enough for Hawks to know her identity once and for all. After all, he was no idiot, he just pretended to be.

“You idiot…!” She whispered to herself before attempting to teleport once again, but this time Hawks was ready. In the blink of an eye he had already caught up to her, when she teleported again the stray feathers were already doing their job looking for her next location, the chase quickly turned to Hawk’s favor when it became obvious just how nervous Fade had become.

There was one thing he just didn’t get...Why was someone like you doing as a vigilante? After getting to know you for months now, it was so hard to understand for him. But right now his main focus was to catch you. He knew the police would go easy on you, the only reason he said those words last time was that he was irked with Fade- well, you to be exact….

In the midst of his distraction, he barely noticed when you crashed into each other with force, knocking the both of you off balance before falling off the rooftop in a tangled mass of limbs. His protective instincts kicked in as he quickly turned around mid-air, pulling your startled body into his chest out of reflex. Somehow a part of your jacket had become tangled into his wings, preventing them from moving around to stop the fall…

It seemed luck was on their side when they fell into an empty alleyway. The trash bags littering the floor helping to cushion their fall, but they couldn’t help when Hawk's breath was knocked away by the impact on his back, as well as your weight landing harshly on top of him. 

“You ok?” He couldn’t help asking, more worried about the girl in his arms than his own well-being. Hawks sighed with relief when you slowly lifted yourself up with a small, pained groan before looking at him, feeling slightly awkward once the realization hit in, that you were sitting on top of the winged hero.

He received no vocal answer, but rather a physical one as your hand grabbed the lower part of the mask to lift it off your face for a small moment, then swiftly you leaned down to plant a deep kiss over the male’s soft lips. 

The gesture caught him off guard at such point, that for a minute Hawks forgot how to breathe. Eyes wide in surprise and body going stiff as all he could concentrate on was your soft lips moving against his own. 

But before he had the chance to kiss back, you had already shoved him away by the shoulder with a devilish smile back in that sweet, flushed face as you slowly licked your lips teasingly.

“This isn’t over Birdy...See you around~” 

You vanished from view in a flash, leaving behind a sparkling, golden cloud. As well as a stupefied hero laying into a pile of trash bags who only draped his arm over his face.

He would definitely need to have a chat with you the next time he went to the restaurant.

[marvus-xoloto]

Okay so. Someone asked me why I thought Marvus was a prince of time and I decided maybe to write a post about it! To be completely honest, this whole ‘theory’ started because I simply enjoy the thought of Marvus in the princely pantaloons lol. 

I want to start this post off with: everyone interprets characters and classes a little differently and classpects are more about personal growth, and I can only present my thoughts based on my own perspective of Marvus. In fact, I do think that you could make strong arguments towards other classes (mage being a strong contender, but I can see witch and bard, for example.... we’ll get to those later), but I feel personally that prince suits him best.

Also I am not a classpecting blog just for the record, nor am I trying to impart some big truth or my own views upon the fandom. This was purely speculation for fun’s sake, and because someone asked :) !!

So let’s start with what it means to be time bound! Very simply put, the time bound are goal oriented, chaos minded, in tune with rhythms and death, and are generally more focused on “the ends justify the means.” This absolutely suits Marvus: he is clearly working towards his own goal (or, my personal opinion, several of his own parallel goals), he definitely wants to “shake things up,” he’s a musician (see his friendsim route, people die to his music), and, well, just look at the end of act 2- he’s definitely justifying his treatment of Joey as end > means. So he’s pretty strongly connected to his aspect right away and takes control of it, which in my opinion rules out page and heir.

Let’s move on to classes to really narrow it down. 

Lord/Muse are reserved for two player sessions, and my personal headcanon is that these are cherub exclusive, so I won’t be looking into or considering those.

Witches take control and change through their aspect: this could definitely suit him! Marvus is all about control and he’s definitely patient enough, but to my understanding witch is that they are very inclined to take command and manipulate their object. Witches in canon tend to be very detached from people (Jade, Damara, Feferi), and Marvus is a people person, so I think we can rule this one out. You could argue that he’s rather detached emotionally, but I’m not going to. Doesn’t vibe with me.

Heirs are served a lot of their aspect without much control over it. Doesn’t sound like Marvus to me, plus I don’t see him as a passive player.

Seer.... I understand why this one is a popular headcanon- it’s all about influencing from behind the scenes, and Marvus definitely does do that- but seers focus their intents almost entirely though others. Marvus definitely inserts himself where he needs to be, and he’s capable of manipulating his aspect on his own when it suits him. And again, I personally don’t see him as a passive player, for all that he’d like to appear passive. He has big goals and he wants to- or, in his eyes, he will achieve them.

Mage is almost right: tbh I don’t quite understand mages, but my interpretation is “understand first, act second.” Suits Marvus, but I think he does have an inclination to want to act as quickly as possible. Plus, it’s implied that mages suffer through their aspect; Marvus is definitely not suffering. Other people certainly are, though, so I can see an argument in favor of Mage of Time Marvus for sure! Again, it simply doesn’t have quite the right vibe to me.

Maids and Sylphs lean more towards being healer classes.... no <3.

Thief and rogue have small themes of justice and stealing, and I don’t see that fitting Marvus.

Now bard.... bard is similar to prince! I only say no to this one because Marvus reads to me as an active class. I do like to imagine him in the bardly god hood, though. I wonder if it would be blasphemy, since those are the robes of the messiahs...? Anyway not relevant kjadslaskdj

So let’s move on to prince, and why I think it suits him.

Princes are destruction classes, and Marvus does have themes of destruction through time throughout his friendsim route and act 2. In friendsim, he did his best to delay (or destroy) the bad time line for MSPAR, and he’s actively helping Joey along the path of... not quite least resistance. It’s fair to say he’s working towards a timeline that suits his needs. Princes are fueled by their aspects, and Marvus definitely shines as a timebound. The strongest and most elegant arguement for Prince of Time; he’s an incredibly successful musician. and themes of prince of time can be found especially prevalent here: people are literally destroyed by his rhythm.

Princes also act as leaders working under an authority. I don’t really want to argue who he’s working for specifically- scratch and the clurch are definitely tied, but Marvus does seem to have his own agenda. This point can only be elaborated on the more we get to understand Marvus as a character, so I’m not going to argue it super deeply just yet.

Lastly, all princes need subjects. For Dirk, he had the carapacians and then later I guess the audience? Idk, i don’t read current homestuck, i don’t know her. Eridan had his angels. Marvus has his adoring crowds.

And on a more personal level, I can see a large personality trait of princes as feeling disdainful or having a complicated relationship with their aspect. Marvus definitely does not like when things stagnate; see how in act two he actively pushes Joey forward, and even pushes her into understanding Alternia so she can grow. 

So yeah those are my thoughts! I can talk about Marvus for hours, but I’d like to reiterate again that this is only my personal point of view and we very likely won’t ever get canon classpects for the fs/act2 trolls, so please have fun and do whatever suits you best! 

[rashamon]

𝙳𝙰𝚉𝙰𝙸 𝙾𝚂𝙰𝙼𝚄   ―   #𝙱𝙰𝙲𝙺𝚂𝚃𝙾𝚁𝚈

viewer discretion is strongly advised before continuing:  this headcanon includes strong mentions of self harm, child abuse and neglect, child trafficking, sexual abuse, suicide attempts and ideation, torture and murder.

dazai may be a stray dog but he was not always an orphan, in fact, he is a self made orphan after murdering his mother and father and trying to kill himself. this is the same instance of suicide that brings him to meet mori at the age of fourteen. without the intervention of mori, dazai would have very likely been institutionalized in a juvenile prison. mori is able to use his connections to prevent this from happening so he can groom dazai into becoming his right hand man. 

dazai osamu murdered his parents because they abused, neglected, and trafficked him as a product rather than a son. they were not married to each other and his mother was very young while his father was much older. for fourteen years, dazai was exploited in any way they could manifest to use him and make money for themselves. this often included selling him to people who would sexually abuse him and sometimes harm him in more sadistic ways as well, contributing to his many bodily scars which he hides beneath his bandages. dazai was taught to steal and pickpocket while manipulating adults into forgiving him when he was caught. he can’t recall the exact point when he stopped feeling all together but he soon developed a habit of harming himself in order to create the sensation he was lacking. it was the only sense of connection and fulfillment he knew. this includes cutting himself with various objects, burning himself with flames, drinking alcohol and smoking cigarettes under the age of fourteen and other various self destructive behaviors. dazai often times started fights even if he knew he couldn’t win.

when dazai finally murdered his parents, it was the straw that broke the camel’s back. he hated them, and he had for a very long time. eventually, he couldn’t take it anymore and snapped when he ended his father’s life and then his mother’s when she wouldn’t stop screaming. dazai didn’t try to kill himself at first, but instead continued to live inside their apartment while his parents rotted into the carpet. he felt nothing for them, no guilt or remorse and the smell wasn’t much worse than the disaster they already lived in. the anguish he felt came from not feeling anything at all, it disturbed him and he understood he was not normal. eventually, dazai made his way up to the roof, covered in old blood, and jumped, but instead of ending up in a coffin, to his chagrin, he ended up in a hospital.

dazai doesn’t see the future, he has been ready to die since he was a child and every year he is alive, he feels more like it’s a joke at his expense rather than a gift. he doesn’t celebrate his birthday because he never has and in general feels extreme dysphoria at the fact that he has somehow managed to stay alive. he thinks it’s funny, in a manic sort of way. he wasn’t offered a future until mori entered his life and dazai witnessed him murder the mafia boss at the time. this created a strange bond between them because dazai had never met another murderer before, and felt a kinship with mori in that sense, or perhaps just insidious intrigue.

mori trains him viciously, the only way the mafia knows how to raise kids. he is subjected to various kinds torture to make him impervious to it in the future. he is taught to shoot which dazai quickly excels at, finding it an enjoyable pass time. he practices everyday for hours, wasting thousands of bullets perfecting it. he is taught to fight but he’s never quite good enough at it, his advantage being his speed and leanness. he excels mostly at dodging and avoiding rather than brute force. for the first time in dazai’s life, he is something and he likes it. he’s placed above the others and this only inflates his adolescent ego. he enjoys killing and takes a sick pleasure in how he does it so well. no one really protected him in the mafia, and he was quietly taken advantage of by some of the older peers, which he would inevitably murder too. 

mori found dazai’s inclination to kill himself, unprofitable and distasteful. dazai was his prize and in mori’s mind, dazai belonged to him. dazai, of course, didn’t give one shit about how mori felt about his suicide attempts. he knew mori only cared for his life because he wanted to use him more, their relationship becoming more hostile the older dazai got. dazai once threatening to cut out his own eye to make himself useless to mori as his hired gun. mori goads him further into doing it, telling him if he does that it will only change dazai’s purpose within the mafia - convincing him that there are still uses for young boys with one eye. dazai understands what he means - it’s a threat and dazai believes him. he’d rather be a gun with privilege's than return to the past abuses. there’s a small and faint scar beneath his left eye that goes uncovered since he no longer wears bandages over it. the continuous use of bandages over his eye were more of a reminder than anything that even without two eyes - he is still useful and it hardly ended up effecting his efficacy with a gun.

the first time someone truly cares for dazai in a genuine, non pervasive way, is odasaku. this is confusing to dazai and he makes a joke of it because it doesn’t make any sense to him. given everything he is, he doesn’t think he’s worthy of any pity or any assistance and especially not love. it’s exactly odasaku’s love that sends dazai into a spiral after he is killed and gives him his last words as a parting gift. never in his life has anyone ever believed that he could be good. never in his life has he ever believed that - and yet here is the one person he believes in and trusts - telling him that he can be good. 

"  i know it makes no difference to you, but please become a good human being. save the weak, protect the orphaned. i suppose you don't care for either justice or evil...but striving to be a better person is a wonderful thing.  "

dazai never cared if anyone died, and for the first time he was devastated by a death. dazai abruptly leaves the mafia after this and approaches taneda who directs him toward the ada. taneda tells him he needs to lay low for two years to clean his past, ango is able to help him with that and he goes ahead shuts himself in for a few years with money he had stashed away. spending those years in solitude and bars trying to figure out what he believes about the world and what odasaku meant when he said he could be good. he spends those years pitying himself, and contemplating his existence and suicide. when he comes out of this, it is spawned by another thing within him that he doesn’t understand. this will to live despite having no reason at all.