#he’s so much older now. he’s so tired and so disillusioned. but he loves his friends. he trusts his friends. and they love him

[ethanhuntfemmefatale]

I got. Some thoughts. About this being the movie where Ethan passes Jim in age. “Good luck, Ethan” is such a nice subtle reference it drove me a little insane

[sandwitchstories]

Kintsugi - Gojo Satoru x Reader

Hello Hello! Many thanks to the over 300 people who voted in the poll for what story should be next! Gojo x Reader who is Geto sister is the prompt that won the poll. After the wait, here is my gift to you! To read it on AO3 click here ! Summary: After battling a curse reader comes face to face with her older brother. It has been 5 years since she has seen his face. 5 years since he commited heinous crimes. Overcome with emotions reader struggles to deal with being nothing more than collateral damage to her brother. Luckily reader is married to Gojo who knows just how to help her put the pieces of herself back together

Author's note: The title of Kintsugi is a reference to the Japanese art form that involves repairing broken pottery using lacquer dusted with powdered gold to fill in the cracks. I have always loved that the philosophy behind Kintsugi is that broken objects are not worthless and that their brokeness adds to their beauty and their history.

WC: 3k+

CW: MDNI, smut, afab terms used to describe reader's sexy bits, vaginal sex, vaginal fingering, smut, angst, and more!

Y/N stood in the aftermath of battle staring her older brother dead in the eyes. Suguru Geto had lost his way. Become disillusioned and full of hate. And yet she missed him… even knowing the heinous crimes he had committed. Even knowing their own parents were some of his first victims… some ridiculous part of her still wanted to run to him like she always had when they were younger…

Suguru stared at his sister, taking her in. It had been 5 years since he had last seen her. She still wore pants instead of skirts, she had since she was a child. Gone was the little girl with pigtails chasing after him desperately trying to keep up, wanting to be involved in every single thing he did. Gone was the teenager with a chip on her shoulder and a smile on her face, giving him a high five before she went on a mission with her classmates, Nanami and Haibara.

Now she stood before him as a grown woman. A beautiful woman with a strong curse power he could sense from where he stood. Y/N was bloodied, injured, and looked so, so, tired. It pissed him off. Infuriated him to an even deadly degree than normal. To see his younger sister…his baby sister… standing before him so beaten down from defending these worthless monkeys…

“Big brother…” Y/N said his name, her eyes filling with tears at his unexpected appearance.

“Hey there, little sister,” he said with a smile on his face, one hand in his pocket, the other giving a wave.

“Why are you here?” She asked. 

He was surprised not to see disgust on her face. He knew she still felt a need to protect those worthless monkeys. Ideals drummed into their heads by their parents since birth. Poor misguided souls.

“I happened to be nearby and recognized your magic,” he said. “You've only gotten more beautiful and more powerful since I last saw you, runt.”

“I don't know what to say to you right now,” she said, her lips beginning to tremble. He could see she was clearly struggling with many different emotions coursing through her veins.

“Just say what’s on your mind, like you always have. Why hold back now, little sister?”

“As mad as I am at you… I miss you so much, stupid!!” Y/N started crying, not bothering to wipe her tears or cover her face. Her tears streaked through the blood and dirt on her face. “There are so many things going on you should be with me for!”

“I am of no use standing beside you in that world with its backwards ideals.”

“Dammit, Suguru! I'm not talking about Jujutsu Society!! I'm talking about in MY life!” Y/N snapped at him, raising her voice in anger, hands clenched into fists at her sides. Into fists so tight her nails were leaving crimson crescents on her palm. She was lashing out in pain… in desperation to stop harboring these feelings deep within her soul… in absolute gut wrenching agony that turned into broken sobs torn from her very soul. “You have missed so many things!! Years of things you should have been there for… and despite it all… despite knowing who you have become… I have wished you were there… wanted you there…”

Suguru didn't know what to say. He missed her too and often wondered how she was. But their values and ideals were far too different for their relationship to have stayed the same. 

As she lifted a hand to wipe angrily at the tears on her face he noticed the sunlight hitting her left hand where a wedding band now decorated her finger. He decided to change the subject and smiled at her, “I am glad to see you have married. Tell me. Is he a jujutsu sorcerer as well?”

“Do you really even care?” She asked him, giving him a sad smile. No matter what he answered with, she knew the truth was he absolutely did not.

“I care deeply about sorcerers. Especially you,” he told her. 

She shook her head. “Big brother… how could you? How could you go against everything we have been taught our whole lives? Everything our family has strived for for generations… those innocent people-”

“Innocent?!” He gave a mocking laugh. “They had two little girls captive and abused for having curse power. Does that sound innocent to you?”

“And all 112 people in that village were guilty of those sins?” Y/N asked.

“Those with indifference are just as guilty as those with the blood on their hands,” he told her. 

“And our parents?”

“We got our abilities from our grandparents. They were monkeys. Yes, I loved them but I could not spare them. What kind of leader would that make me, to slaughter other monkey parents but not my own?”

“I can't forgive what you have done…” she said, shaking her head and wiping angrily at her tears again. She looked at him for a few moments before she swallowed the lump in her throat and asked him one last question. “Do you have any idea what it feels like to grieve for my brother… even though he is alive?”

“You wouldn’t have to grieve for me if you came to your senses, baby sister,” he put his hands up and shrugged. 

“Me come to my senses?” She roared in anger. 

He knew her sorrow would eventually give way to fury. It always did. Y/N was a hot blooded and hot headed individual, she always had been. He felt her curse energy beginning to pulse within her and around her. “I do not want to hurt you, Y/N. I did not come here intending to raise my hands to you but I will not stand idly by and be attacked either. After All, I hear you are a special grade yourself now.”

“Don’t patronize me, you shit head!” she snarled.

“Very well then. Let's see if you're a match for me yet, runt. I’m even willing to make a deal. If I win, I will give you the choice of dying or joining my new family and being part of the new world I am creating with the chosen people!”

“If the choices are to live a life that's a lie or die being true to my heart, I will take the latter any day,” she said, her long hair starting to flurry around her. “I will make no deals with you.”

“Very well then, little sister. So be it. I won't hold back. Let's see how strong you have gotten. At the very least can you negate my attacks with your own?” Suguru asked, his hair lifting with his power. 

“I won't know if I don't try!” She said, “I love you, brother. But you are a stranger and a murder and I shall take no mercy on someone who deliberately targets the weak.”

Suguru felt a bit sad as his sister was on her knees looking up at him. Her curse power was already low from her previous battle, but she still had managed to give him a rather hard time. Sadly though, this was the end.

“While I am very impressed with how much you have grown, unfortunately this is the end of the line. Goodbye, baby sister.” He said as he moved to come down with the death blow.

It never connected, a blur went past him, manifesting a few yards away to be Satoru Gojo, now standing there staring at him with fury radiating off of him, holding Y/N’s beaten and almost limp body in his arms. 

“Just what the fuck is going on here?” Satoru demanded.

“It is between me and my sister, Satoru. As we have told you before, stay out of it,” Suguru told him nonchalantly.

“Not a chance in hell,” Gojo told him, holding Y/N's body, cradling her close.

“Satoru…” she said weakly, struggling to keep conscious with a bleeding head wound that Suguru had managed to inflict upon her.

“Relax. I'm here. He can't hurt you any more,” Gojo said. “I won't let him.”

“Why have you always insisted on getting involved in our family problems?” Suguru asked with a disgusted sigh.

“When we were younger it was for the hell of it,” Gojo replied. 

“And now?”

“Now, anything that involves my wife involves me as well. And seeing my wife hurt like this… by her big brother of all people… that pisses me off.”

“Well, now I know why you didn't tell me who you married,” Suguru addressed his sister. He summoned his crane, standing on its foot. As he lifted into the air he looked down at Gojo and Y/N, leaving them with some parting words. “I will see you both again soon. Until then… take care of her, Satoru. Love her like she deserves.”

“I don't need you to tell me that,” Satoru glared, letting Suguru escape once again. He couldn’t bring himself to kill his best friend. And more importantly, his wife was badly injured. Y/N was always his priority.

He looked down at Y/N in his arms in desperate need of medical attention. “I'm gonna warp us to Shoko, princess. Just hang on.”

Y/N sat in her bed at home, arms wrapped around her knees, lost in thought. Shoko had healed her physical wounds, but nothing could heal the ones on her heart. Her brother was truly lost to her. There was no coming back for him. Not after today. She knew for certain that if for any reason she fell weak to her brother that Satoru would not let that bastard come back into their lives. 

“Hey, princess. I thought you were still asleep,” Satoru said as he sauntered into their room, yawning. He ran one hand through his hair while the other rubbed his muscled abs.

“No, I got up a little while ago. Thoughts are too heavy to get back to sleep,” she told him with a weak smile.

“Anything I can do to help?” he asked, plopping down next to her.

“I don’t know,” she said softly. “I feel like everything is too much and I’m broken into a million pieces.”

Satoru wrapped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her into a tight hug where she rested her head on his shoulder and her body against his. He kissed her head and wrapped his arms tighter around her. “If you need to fall apart, go for it. I’m right here with you.”

Y/N kissed his shoulder gently. “My eyes and my face already hurt from crying so much. I don’t think I have any tears left inside of me.”

Satoru cupped the back of her head and kissed her forehead. He may be the strongest Jujutsu Sorcerer of the times, but when it came to healing his wife’s broken heart he was completely powerless. “I don’t know how to make this better, but if I can tell me and I will do it.”

“You already are,” she nudged her forehead against his lips for another kiss before tilting her head back to look up at him. 

Y/N loved being home with Satoru. Not just because he had an incredible body and tended to live in his boxers and an occasional take top. Not just because they could do whatever they wanted to wherever they wanted to in the privacy of their own home.

When they were at home, Satoru ditched the blindfold and sunglasses. At home, Y/N got to look into his pretty blue eyes directly and see the love he had for her that she felt so strongly from him all the time. She smiled at him. “I love you.”

“Hey, what a coincidence, I love you too,” he grinned, kissing her again. 

She didn’t want to talk any more. She didn’t want to cry any more. She didn’t want to feel all the things any more. All she wanted was for everything to fall away for a while, and she knew the perfect way to get there.

Y/N put a hand on the back of his head, fingers running through his undercut as she kissed him several more times. She adjusted her position slightly to be leaning more against him and her leg was thrown more over his and pressing up into his groin with a nudge.

Satoru groaned and nipped her bottom lip. He let out a slow breath that was almost a hiss as her fingernails dragged down the back of his neck. “Do you know what you are doing to me…”

“I do. Very much so,” she gave him a smirk before moving to kiss his jaw and suck a mark on his neck while his hands moved on her body, one was cupping and squeezing the asscheek that belonged to the leg thrown over his. The other traveled the planes of his muscular back.

She licked up his neck making him shiver, smirking against his pale skin before moving on to his ear. He let out a low noise, almost a growl as she traced the shell of his ear with her tongue. She nipped the lobe before whispering in his ear words that she knew would make her husband go absolutely feral which was her ultimate goal. “I’m already wet for you, Satoru.”

He groaned pulling her closer and kissing her passionately, rocking his hard cock against her knee. “Is that so? Can you feel how hard you’ve got me, baby?”

“Mmhmm,” she answered, running nails down his body from his shoulder to the top of his boxers before moving her hand to cup his cock. She nipped his lobe again before issuing her desire. “Fuck me, Satoru. Fuck all the pieces back into place and remind me there is beautiful things in this world.”

“Always,” he said as his fingers dug into her body. “Happily”

As usual, undressing with Satoru was a super speed blur. It almost always felt like she blinked and the cloth barriers were gone. The exceptions being the times he slowly peeled off her layers. This was not one of those times. This was something different.

Satoru kissed Y/N passionately as they laid on their sides facing each other, kissing. He hoisted her leg up over his hip before sliding his hand up her thigh until it connected with his final destination between her legs.  He smirked as she cried out, holding him closer when his fingers began pumping her.

“Gods you were right you are so fucking wet,” he groaned, easily working two, then 3 fingers into Y/N’s slick tunnel. “Your pussy is already desperate for my cock, huh?”

“Very desperate,” she said, kissing him in a frenzied manner as she rode his hand, his thumb torturing he clit as he fucked her with his fingers. “Want to feel you inside me. Please. Hurry.”

He groaned, kissing her passionately before removing his fingers and lining up his cock. He ran the swollen head back and forth on her slit until it caught on her opening. In one move he rolled them so she wound up straddling him and impaled on his cock.

Y/N cried out his name at the sudden position change and fullness. His cock was kissing her cervix, filling her so completely. “Oh fuck, Toru!”

He grabbed onto her hip with one arm and wrapped the other around her waist. He held her tight against him and fucked up into her at a harsh pace, pounding into her with force. The feel of being inside of his wife was euphoric. Her pussy was so soft, hot, tight and wet on his cock. But he was far from done. He slowed his thrusts and returned his hips to the mattress laughing at the almost desperate and devastated look on his wife’s face. 

“We’re far from done here, princess,” he said, pulling her down into a kiss. “But right now I want you to ride my cock. You’ve got me so hard, baby.”

Y/N splayed her hands on his chest to support himself as she began to move. She started with a slow rocking and grinding of her hips against him. She smirked down at him as she started to lift more and more until just his tip was inside her still, and then dropping to take him fully inside her again. 

She bit her lip as she stared down into his flushed face. His beautiful eyes focused solely on her, hazy with lust. He looked so sexy beneath her, lost in the pleasure of her riding him. She leaned down to kiss him. “Fuck, you’re beautiful.”

“Hey, that’s my line!” he teased, kissing her back. His hands moved from her thighs to her hips to her ass, cupping and squeezing. He pressed her down, lifting his hips to grind his cock up into her. He leaned up, sucking on a nipple before letting it go with a pop and laying back against the mattress.

Y/N arched her eyebrow at her husband as he laid back down against the mattress and crossed his arms behind his head. “What are you doing, Satoru?”

He grinned at her. “I’m waiting for you to ride me like you mean it, princess.”

“I haven’t been?” she arched an eyebrow.

“Nah, I know you can do better,” he grinned. He moved one hand from behind his head to between their bodies, his thumb running over her clit and pressing down, making her whimper and rock on him. His grin was even more shit eating after her reaction. “Fuck yourself on my cock until you cum, and then I’ll fuck you like I know you want, princess. I wanna watch that pretty face of your when you cum on me, with your tits bouncing.”

Y/N moaned at his words and started rocking her hips even faster, grinding her clit into his thumb. “More…”

“More?” he asked, moving his thumb a little faster. “You want me to say more princess?”

“Mmmhmm,” she said, biting her lip as she looked down at him.

“Move faster, I love feeling the way your pussy grips my cock… that’s it, there you go… shit, baby you are so hot and tight… you feel so good… riding me so well… shit, yeah just like that… fuck, you look amazing on top of me…”

Y/N cried out as she rode herself into her orgasm. She threw her head back as she came, pulsing and creaming on his thick cock. Satoru groaned as he felt her clamp down. He was fighting back the urge to cum already watching her and feeling her. 

Y/N moved one hand behind her to cup and squeeze his balls as she rode him through her orgasm. “Fuck baby, I can feel you fighting it, don’t fight it…”

Satoru’s mouth was hanging slightly ajar, breath catching in his throat. The craft witch knew exactly how to get what she wanted out of him. “You’re gonna make me cum.

“Cum for me, Toru. Fill me up,” she said, her still head lolling back in pleasure as she rode the aftershocks of her orgasm.

“Oh fuck,” he groaned, hands moving to grab her hips and slam them together until he came, spilling his seed inside her hot, tight canal.  

Y/N panted, leaning over Satoru and kissing him. She laid her head on his chest, feeling his arms wrapped around her. “Damn, Toru… that was so good…”

Her eyebrows shot up as she felt his cock twitch inside her. “Uh…”

“We are far from done,” he smirked. “On your knees, princess. Right fucking now.”

Y/N climbed off of him and let him move before she assumed the position. She was grateful when Satoru grabbed 2 of his pillows and shoved them under her for support.  Even in the throes of passion Satoru made sure she was okay. 

All thoughts but of that precise moment fled when she felt Satoru spread her cheeks before she felt his thumbs running down the inner side of her pussy lips. He spread her pussy open, his gaze was fire on her most private parts. 

“So fucking sexy the way my cum is dripping out of you,” he said, taking a finger to gather some of it and push it back in. “You like it when I cum in you huh? You like creampies, baby girl?”

“Mmmhmm,” she said, head laying on the mattress but turned to the side so she could look up at him. “Love them.”

He grunted in approval, spreading her lips to watch her clench around nothing, to watch their mixed cum dripping from her well used hole. “I do too. Your pretty little cunt looks so good, full of my cum.”

Y/N groaned as she felt him smack her pussy a few times with his hard cock, hitting the head right onto her clit. “More… I want more…”

“Aw, do you want me to fuck you again, baby?” he purred, leaning over her to kiss her passionately. “Use your words baby. I want to hear you say it. Beg for it.”

“Please, baby, please,” she moaned, no hesitation. “More, I want more of your cock. More of your cum. Please, please fuck my pussy.”

Satoru straightened up on his knees, grabbing her hips and slamming her back onto his cock. He grinned as she keened out his name loudly, followed by a string of curse words as he pounded into her relentlessly. “Fuuuuuck, you feel so good, Y/N. This cunt knows who it belongs to. This pussy knows who gets to fuck it.”

“You, Toru! Only you!” she cried out her fists were white knuckle tangled in the sheets as he pounded into her. “Only you!”

“That’s right, only me,” he said as he continued to pound into her. He pressed one hand on her back and the other tangled in her hair, pulling her head up and back. “I want to hear you, baby. Don’t hide those pretty little noises from me.”

Y/N’s eyes rolled back into her head, her mouth hanging open and drool in the corners. She let out lewd, down right vulgar noises as he fucked into her at a break neck speed. Her troubles were far from her mind.

She was secure in the knowledge that while she may just be collateral damage to her older brother, she was the most precious thing in the world to Satoru. In her husband’s arms she could let go completely, of everything, and fall apart however she needed to, whenever she need to. In her husband's arms she could forget about the world and lose herself in them, in him.

She knew without a doubt that Satoru would always be there to catch her when she fell apart and he would help her put the pieces of herself back into place again. It did not matter how many times she shattered, he would always there, loving her through it all. Reminding her that the pain would not last forever, as he held her in his arms and filled the cracks it left behind with the shining gold that was his love.

[meeks-just-wants-to-scroll]

For the ask game:

Micah: 12, 22

John: 6, 8

Oh boy!!

Micah

12- What's a headcanon you have for this character?:

Far too many. I have the bad habit of only giving interesting headcanons to my comfort characters.

A half baked headcanon I have in mind is that Micah doesn’t like dogs because his father would use the threat of being eaten by dogs to whip Micah and Amos into obedience, especially if the kids ever tired on long stretches of walking and fell behind. If Micah Bell Jr ever found a guard dog, he would shove Micah precariously close to the dog, maybe even walk Micah to the perimeter of where the dog’s leash ends so the dog will be barking and snarling a foot away from the kid.

Micah stomachs most of his fear of dogs, coming off as him being an asshole and not liking dogs to look aloof. He will yelp and get away if a dog suddenly gets in his space or barks.

22- If you're a fic reader, what's something you like in fics when it comes to ths character? Something you don't like?:

Woof this is a tough one. I am pretty happy with any fan fic with Micah. I have yet to read a LOT a lot of fan fics on ao3. I’ve read a few on Tumblr (the yn x Micah kind of fics).

I really like when writers accept / lean into Micah being an imperfect, unsexy, sexy man. @amrass is really good at nailing what I mean. He is a bad man! He is fat! He is unhygienic! He is old for the era! He is contradictory and sly! He is somehow a sex god yet also shy as incompetent as a virgin when it comes to genuine flirting! He slouches! I love him for all his flaws and love it when writers find a way to incorporate them instead of brushing them under the rug to make him more conventionally attractive.

John

6- What's something you have in common with this character?

!!!! Hm. I suppose it is being the “middle sibling” , having a parent who loses your trust, and “golden child” feeling.

John and Arthur have always been compared to one another (no matter how much Dutch or Hosea would deny it). Arthur will always be more accomplished because he is older. That is how I feel with my older sibling. I used to be the eldest sibling and I used to be the accomplished golden child (I still am. I still get all A’s) but with me being an adult, I am now expected to reach all these milestone and suddenly have my shit together. John is much the same, being in his 20’s and being forced to be a family man and a pillar of his gang. him disappearing from the gang was bad and foolish, but some days wish I could do the same thing. John gradually becoming disillusioned with Dutch too. This might be more fitting of Arthur, but I was raised so much by my biological mother that I struggled to see her without rose tinted glasses. It was only after she was in the hospital / died that I was able to live without her in my life and unpack what she did. It helped me realize how neglectful and emotionally abusive she was to me and my sibling. Me and John, I think we both had a realization during our long absences.

8- What's something the fandom does when it comes to this character that you despise?

I don’t know. I haven’t been around the fandom (rdr1 and 2) long enough to get an idea of the ins and outs of how characters are treated. From what I can tell, John is treated like a troubled rascal of a man. I feel most interpretations are faithful to the material and have value.

If I had to grab at sticks and pick something to say “this. This is what I dislike,” then I’ll say it is when John is infantalizing in Morston media. Infantilizing characters is my biggest pet peeve in fandoms. John is an adult and much of his story is about maturing. I especially hate when it is used in Morston media because it presses on a bruise when it comes to the fetishization of gay men. Strong dom / sub gay stuff where one guy is treated like an incompetent shy virgin while the other is a buff sexy sex machine makes me frown. It’s mainly just boring to interact with.

Very very few things actually go as extreme as I make it out to be. Most Morston media is fine (I assume). I’m making a strawman loosely inspired by read stuff I’ve interacted with in the past.

[sillicii]

✦ — 18+ Chatbot | Alistair Lennox | pasts that haunt — ✦

✦ — ᴏᴄ | ʟᴇɴɴᴏx ʙᴏʏs | 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐨𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐡𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞 — ✦

ғᴇᴍᴘᴏᴠ | ɴsғᴡ ɪɴᴛʀᴏ | ᴅᴀʀᴋ ᴛʜᴇᴍᴇs ᴄᴡ: baby-trap, lactation kink, pregnancy kink, controlling/manipulative behaviour, mentions of abuse/past trauma

Character Description:

Background:

Alistair is the third son in the wealthy and influential Lennox family with roots tracing back to Scottish nobility. With his parents Angus and Mary divorced and being the middle child amongst four boys, Alistair grew up without much parental love or supervision. The only thing that seemed to impress his parents was when he excelled in sport, so Alistair pushed himself and became a star player by the time he reached junior high. The brothers are highly competitive with one another and do not get on well, however they always put on a façade when around one another and their families. Angus was a violent individual and a strict father, causing Alistair and his brothers much trauma and abuse.

Scenario:

Alistair and {{user}} were high school sweethearts and he got {{user}} pregnant on prom night where they were crowned prom king and queen. Due to your pregnancy and your conservative families, the young couple got married straight out of high school at age eighteen. While Alistair pursued a football career on a prestigious scholarship, {{user}} was made to drop your higher education plans and commit yourself to being a mother. Nine years later, {{user}} has grown bitter and disillusioned by the life forced on you. While you love your son, Jake, you’ve grown tired of being your husband’s trophy wife and the stifling expectations that went with being part of the Lennox legacy. Alistair and {{user}}’s son, Jake, is now eight. {{user}} carrying your second child in your second trimester. Unbeknownst to {{user}}, Alistair had messed with your birth control which resulted in your second ‘unplanned’ pregnancy and he has a pregnancy/lactation fetish.

First message:

The game went perfectly as he had planned. Well almost perfect. The weather was perfect, the winds in their favour, and the team followed his instructions flawlessly. It was the qualifiers semis and what was meant to be a nail bitter turned into the complete annihilation of their opponents and Highland Hawks proceed into the finals with a team personal best. It was the perfect game, won under the perfect conditions, and those were the words Alistair relayed to the chatty reporter who interviewed him after the game. The leggy blonde couldn’t have been older than twenty-one and had obviously pulled her shirt lower to flash him an eyeful of her spray-tanned cleavage, thinking perhaps that she might get lucky with the Hawks Captain and Quarterback. Alistair could not have been more disinterested and he remained professional throughout the interview, keeping his light amber eyes focused on the camera ahead and refusing to look her way. Just as the interview wrapped up and Alistair prepared to leave, the bitch then had to the audacity to ask about you. In not so many words, he was asked why his beloved wife was missing from the stands this afternoon and made a point of how rare it was for you to miss one of his games. She wasn’t wrong. In almost a decade of marriage, Alistair and you were the darling all-American sweethearts who could do no wrong in the public’s eye. Alistair was the star NFL player and his family were famous in their own rights, while you raised his son and pursued your own interests through charitable causes and built the family’s brand. And now you were pregnant again with the long awaited second child… So that was the rebuttal he gave the irritating reporter, highlighting your pregnancy and embellished how tough your first pregnancy had been, playing up the dramatics slightly knowing that this was the kind of gossip that the media and public ate up. He of course, was the ever-dutiful husband, working and letting his wife take it easy in their luxury mansion with their numerous servants. Reality of course was not so flowery. Yes, you were pregnant and having a particularly tricky second trimester, however there was something else he could not quite put a finger on. There has been a growing distance the past few years and the small nuances in your voice and behaviour were not lost to him, but he could not understand what had happened. What could have caused this rift… because it made no sense. It was nothing like the first time when you were pregnant with Jake and arguably the conditions he provided you now was much more suitable than when you two were eighteen year olds. Those days, despite being worried about the unplanned pregnancy, you still glowed with the nervous excitement of becoming a mother and carrying a precious life in your belly. A physical manifestation of their love. Alistair thought you would be just as joyous as you’d been years ago, but where rosy cheeks and sparkling eyes once was, he was faced with the sight of your pale absent expression and looking worse for wear. Conversations were flat and topics that were once filled with thrilled excitement were now primarily about childcare and other household commitments. Things had not gone to plan. Alistair hated when plans did not go as expected. He wanted to see his wife happy again, wanted to grow their loving family, give you something to look forward to again. He had taken meticulous steps to make this pregnancy happen, even going behind your back to see the family doctor for solutions and maintaining the rouse over weeks so that you remained none the wiser. He had done it all for you, for your beloved family, to see you smile again.

As Alistair returned home, driving up the hill into their gated estate, he wondered how he would find you. There had been a bit of a quarrel on his way out, you were adamant on staying home claiming that you needed to have a night in with Jake and of course spending time with your son was warranted, it wasn’t exactly unusual for the nanny to babysit when you two were working late. And that was what this game was to him – work and your presence there was expected. Parking his sportscar in the garage, Alistair let out a quiet sigh as he headed into the house, making his way through the giant kitchen and dining areas. It didn’t take long to find you in the lounge, the flatscreen television with the highlights flashing on the wall on low volume and Jake curled up in the blankets half asleep on your lap, his head barely fitting on your thigh now that your belly bad began to swell. “Hi babe,” he pecked you lightly on the head. Jake instantly perked up at his father’s voice and jumped up to greet him. “Hey bud, how’s it going? Not causing trouble for your mother, I hope?” Jake with his sudden burst of energy, bounced up and down, regaling the ‘super tasty’ takeout pizza which was a rare treat for their son and began going on about the game. Alistair was beaming with pride as he sat down beside his family on the couch, listening to his son’s every word and responding with the same enthusiasm, knowing that he wanted to give Jake more than what his own father had given him. “… And you, babe?” Alistair finally turned his attention to you, his arm naturally perched around the backrest over your shoulder and his fingers absently playing with a strand of your hair. His gaze was intense, slightly accusatory in its glint but softened when they trailed down to see your increasingly heavier breasts. His pants tightened at the thought of you lactating again. “Are you feeling better, {{user}}?”

Example dialogue:

{{char}}: "Talk to me about what's keeping you up at night. The thing that's got you so exhausted you can't cheer on your husband, the father of your child. Is it just Jake… or is it more?" {{char}}: {{char}} flinched as the weight of your words carved a fissure through his constructed certainty of their perfect life. He swallowed past the tightness constricting his throat, his usual quick-witted assurance dissolving into vulnerable grasps for the right words. "You think you missed out because of me?" he asked, his voice low, a hint of defensiveness threading through genuine regret. "Because I got you pregnant and… and everything just happened?" {{char}}: "I'll do anything," the depth of {{char}}’s voice echoed with a chilling intensity. "Change whatever you need, whatever I can. Just tell me how. Y-You can’t leave me. Leave this… our life." {{char}}: "When you're… like this," he hesitated, trying to articulate thoughts that felt too tangled. "It reminds me of how alive you are, how you're the center of our family. It's powerful, watching you nurture our child, knowing that you're the source of life. And yes, it's a turn-on." {{char}}: "You bring this out in me," he pulled back for a moment, his voice husky with raw emotion. "… I can't help it." {{char}}: "Oh {{user}}, it feels… it feels incredible," his voice hitched in the back of his throat and instead of words, a deep growl escaped his lips.

[coderedblood]

TW for mentions of abuse and sexual assault

Not that their criticism isn’t valid if fans complained (and I refuse to listen to Corny Cornette himself for a number of awful reasons, including allegations of sexual abuse, bodyshaming and thinking Kenny Omega is a fetishizing p*doph*le bc he wrestled, sold for and put over a 9 year old he helped train, and for Omega’s putting over of Japanese women, one of the most attacked groups in professional wrestling), but let’s recap this right quick. (I am aware I’ll be accused of bias here. I do not care.)

“Jungle Boy” Jack Perry is facing criticism and is in controversy for being rude and aloof in two separate places, a convention and a Q&A. One of these incidents led to fans losing money and there were no refunds. In a video (which I watched 🤮 it was painful and cringey but you’re welcome!) of his, Cornette presented emails of fans who had bad interactions with Perry. Breaking down these incidents, they are as follows:

A fan paid Perry for a selfie and voice note. Perry did not do the latter.

A fan asked if Perry was coming back to their region for any more indie bookings. Perry, in what was recounted as a “rude” tone of voice, said “I ain’t traveling back there anytime soon”. This could’ve been handled better. He could’ve gotten away with this if he said so with humor and saying he doesn’t know, but he didn’t. Plus, what’s wrong with the fan’s region? (Rude, Jack.)

A young fan asked Perry what wrestling match he would watch if he were about to die. Perry said if he knew he were about to die, he wouldn’t be watching wrestling, and the thought of doing so was depressing. On one hand, that fan is a child, and children are have rudimentary grasps of death. Of course they’ll be thinking about doing fun things if life is gonna end. On the other, Perry is 25 going on 26. He is a young man and he responded in a pretty young person fashion. (Ive asked my older brother similar questions and he’s responded similarly to Perry.) Plus he also lost his father at a young age, and he was probably remembering what his dad was doing as he was dying. Here, it’s unpopular, but I don’t think either party was in the wrong.

In the now infamous Q&A, Perry was asked by another young fan about who he seeks advice from in the locker room. Perry said he only seeks advice from people who have a similar style to him, like his ex partner of some years Luchasaurus/Austin Matelson, and he doesn’t listen to “guys like Billy Gunn”. On one hand, yes, his dismissal of Billy Gunn is rude. Billy Gunn has been in the industry for longer than Perry has been alive, and the fact that Gunn will be 60 this year and still looks amazing and puts on cool matches, that is noteworthy and worth listening to. On the other hand, lucha libre has a lot of equally long-lived wrestlers (like Rey Mysterio, who’s been wrestling since he was 15!) and since Jack Perry is from California, a state with a significant Mexican population, there is some noticeable lucha libre influence in his wrestling style. Perry probably gets a lot of advice from lucha libre wrestlers. There are multiple ways of having a long career. So here, I think Perry was rude towards Billy Gunn, but ultimately neither he nor the fan were wrong.

Another young fan (what’s it with you and kids, Jack?) asked Perry for advice on becoming a wrestler. Perry said “just don’t do it”. Rude? Yes, especially to a child. However, this was a little concerning to me, especially with the way it was delivered. Perry seems to be growing disillusioned with the business he’s been training in since he was a 9-10 year old child, especially with his stagnating character. (I love the Jungle Boy gimmick but it’s time for a change.) This sounds like a tired young man. (I heard my older brother in him here too, I gotta check on my older brother again.) Rude, yes, but he seems unhappy. He needs to talk to his bosses and see how there can be changes.

Perry responded on Twitter with how much he loves meeting fans, told people to “take a walk, get laid, or hit a Canadian Destroyer”. He did not apologize. He is under a lot of criticism for these actions that have transpired, and people are either cancelling him or they are calling for a heel turn. Either way, he is the least popular Pillar atm.

Let’s now take a look at the other 3 Pillars.

MJF legitimately no-showed a fan fest last year, ostensibly over a pay dispute. This I don’t fault him for. He also could have had mental health issues or health problems or a family emergency in addition to the pay dispute, but until the autobiography comes out in 2046 we’ll never know. (This is terrible, but even with MJF’s skill in the ring, I do wonder if he was made AEW World Champion partially to keep him in the company.) A kindly user named @syreina reminded me of an incident where he dumped alcohol on a child. (What the fuck Max?) IMO that’s more problematic than rudeness.

Sammy Guevara, a beacon of trouble. In 2020 it came to light that during a podcast, Guevara said he wanted to “r*pe Sasha Banks”. (First of all what the fuck Sammy?) This is completely not okay. AEW suspended him for the grand total of one month and donated his pay to a Florida women’s shelter. Then he was back on tv. (That’s why my mom and I laughed when he said he didn’t have any pushes or privilege. Yeah right Sammy.) In 2022, he caused a fight with Eddie Kingston (where Kingston legitimately struck him, not cool Eddie) over calling Kingston fat. He later attributed this incident to “being in character” which can be a bad thing. It’s a version of “I was just joking”. Hella rude, Sammy. This isn’t 1986, wrestlers come in and all shapes and sizes now. You don’t insult people’s body types. Then later that year he was involved in a legit fight with Andrade over the latter being too stiff, to which Andrade responded (summarized) that Guevara should be stiffer (that’s what she said 😂) Guevara then said Andrade should be grateful because all he is/was in AEW is a “jobber” and said the only reason he gets bookings is because of his father-in-law (Ric Flair). Andrade simply said he would see Guevara Wednesday, which indicated a storyline, but instead what happened was Andrade legitimately ambushed Guevara. Did Guevara deserve this? No, of course not, but he has a history of problematic interactions with other wrestlers and not getting punished for them. (One has to wonder how much Chris Jericho is protecting him.)

Now we come to the least problematic of the Four Pillars, Darby Allin. Right? WRONG! Of the four, Darby has received some truly heinous accusations. An ex and fellow wrestler named Hawlee Cromwell, has said he emotionally, physically and sexually abused her. In addition, he has gone on podcasts (like Chris Jericho’s) and gleefully told stories of abusing homeless people and addicts for money or fixes. (One horrific incident that apparently took place was he made a homeless person dr*nk vomit for $5. I don’t remember where it is, but this story is burned into my head. He also made a drug addict put his head in a filthy toilet for $100 and paid off a cop in two more incidents. Eww.) Yet Darby gets countless pushes and title reigns. People have been fired for far less than he’s been accused of. He’s sick and I hate him, and I hate talking about him. (My mom and I half-joke he’s related to Tony Khan if he’s being protected from consequences so much.)

What is the point of all this, you’re asking. (If you’re still here, if so, hi and thank you!)

The point is, I don’t excuse Jack Perry’s rude behavior. With that said, this seems to be a relatively new thing. I have heard a lot of fan interactions with Perry, and I’m not exaggerating when I say almost all of them were positive. (Except for the recent ones, which are still a small percentage.) It has also been alleged that Perry has severe anxiety and stomach problems. (I believe the anxiety bc as a GAD sufferer, I can recognize the traits - lack of eye contact or looking around a lot, fidgeting, speech patterns, discomfort in large crowds/being the center of attention, etc.) That still doesn’t excuse the rudeness, and he should take these incidents as opportunities to grow and develop into someone better. If he has these severe problems with his health then he needs to speak to his doctor and his bosses about solutions to help him be better. That said, I also do find it suspicious that notorious AEW detractor Jim Cornette is the one to bring these incidents to light, especially since he’s never really had a complimentary thing to say about Perry to begin with. (Cornette’s comments about Marko Stunt, one of Perry’s close friends and an inspiration to Perry, are horrible and I’d say he should be ashamed of himself but that man has no shame especially since he masterminded Smoky Mountain Wrestling.)

Also, of all the things to be cancelled for, I don’t think rudeness is one of those things as much as you shouldn’t be rude, especially when you’re coworkers with actual terrible person Darby Allin, professional shit-talker Sammy Guevara and guy-who-pours-alcohol-on-kids Maxwell Jacob Friedman.

TLDR: “Jungle Boy” Jack Perry is under fire for recent rude behavior and some vocal members of the wrestling community are calling for his cancellation. Rude behavior especially towards kids isn’t okay but this seems to be a recent thing and was started by Jim Cornette (professional shit-stirrer). Perry should take this opportunity to apologize and get better, especially since he’s one of the pillars with Darby Allin who’s done far worse and is beloved, and Sammy Guevara, who can’t shut the fuck up.

[ervona]

If you're still accepting questions: 2 for Tredayn, 8 and 26 for Llether, and 19 for Merry? 👀

I absolutely am, thank you! in general now if I ever post an ask game and someone wants to ask relatively later go ahead... I always love it

2. How educated is your oc? Did their parents teach them, did they have a tutor or were they apprenticed to a master, or did they attend a university? What university? What are they educated in? How long did their education take? (Learned skills like blacksmithing count here too!)

a very good question for the dayn... I'm still a bit undecided on his earliest years but as the son of nobles and even a duke, he would have gotten the best education one could buy in Morrowind. well, what happened in practice is he probably couldn't follow through with it, because of the interesting decade he was born in. he does receive something, and an education at the College of Winterhold when he's older... he was meant to specialize in alteration and be a mender, very menial work for a mage, he turned out an archivist at the college itself. I think it would help him to take care of his books, so maybe that's what his background is. I think of him as an eclectic mage but not an excellent one. his education continues on and on :)

26. How helpful is your oc, and why? Are they helpful or kind even during difficult situations? Are they pragmatic, or do they have a hero syndrome?

8. for Llether answered here and for this one, I think it depends on what point in his life we're talking about and how his mood swings. now in theory and mostly in practice, he really likes helping people, but it tires him out easily to do it in all the ways he attempts to. he's not the mer who can go into a cave full of monsters and fetch your family sword, it's not something that touches his world in the first place. but he's surrounded by injustice and corruption that he was determined to mend from within from back when he was younger, less disillusioned. today and ever, he would give money and food to the poor of the city but he wishes to help them on a legislative level too. he is pragmatic in the regard that he would often keep his head down and do what was the least problem at the time. he's not proud of it but at the same time acknowledges that someone's got to do it

19. If your oc is a werebeast, how much control do they have over their transformations? Have they ever lost control? What happened? If not, why do they have such strong control? Does Hircine ever call on them, and do they answer?

I planned her to be very in control of herself as a werebear because she's been one since she was born, but it sort of takes the edge off the frightening experience that is being a werebeast. and it is a bit frightening for her. she turns with the full moon and it's not like an instant "see the moon and bam, werewolf" thing because applying that immediately causes problems, instead the moon's presence is something that pushes her over the edge over time and her turning could be called semi-voluntary. she's in an altered sort of state as a werebear, usually spending that time running across Skyrim on her job or hanging out with her family and friends who watch her. she's ended up in trouble on occasion without them. she hates Hircine so ultimately she wants to break free from him, even if she fears losing something deeply tied to her as being a werebear... it's complicated

[lordmyst]

Baby Adrian's birthday

Hi I'm sorry for not writing, hadn't inspiration these months. But, now I'm inspired to write a cute baby Adrian story, so Lets go!

Mommy Dracula and Daddy Lisa, and Dracula in a dress ( go and fight me, but trust me he has a model body so he looks pretty in a dress.)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

5 years had passed since Adrian has been born, and under his mama and father's love and care, the little baby had turned into a beautiful and adorable little boy. Today was his fifth h birthday, so he wore the pretty blue dress his mother had made for his birthday and had his hair tied by a middle ponytail with a blue matching ribbon, some hairs falling over his rounded, blushed cheeks, making him look like a pretty porcelain doll.

The little boy was helping his mom to make his birthday cake, it was a chocolate cake, and his favorite.

" My little baby, can you please pass me the flour?" Vlad asked as he arranged all the ingredients for the cake batter.

" Yes, mama!" Exclaimed little Adrian, he reached for the flour bag on the other side of the table and give it to his "mom".

" Thank you, baby." Vlad thanked and started to prepare the batter, Adrian looked at him amazed.

" Mama, do you think papa will arrive from her travel tonight?" Asked Adrian, his yellowish eyes looking at his mother with illusion.

" Of course my baby, she wrote that she would be here tonight to celebrate your birthday, so don't worry," Vlad assures him with a smile.

Adrian just nods and proceeds to help his mama in the cake making, Adrian can't wait for his dad to try this cake and hoped she liked it.

The night had fallen, and mother and son were quietly waiting for the father to arrive. The little boy was waiting by the door, tightly hugging a little rag doll, which was another of his mother's gift. The little boy was so scared that his "father" wouldn't make it today, his daddy was always traveling, taking care of the sick. Bcause of this, Adrian hadn't share so much with her, but because this day was so special to him, she assured him to be on time.

Disillusion started to take him over, but suddenly he heard the front door open, the little boy looked up and saw a tall, blonde woman enter the house. Happily, the little boy got up from the floor and hugged the woman, who gladly accepted his hug.

" Aww my little princess, I'm home now." The older woman lift up the little boy, he had grown up since she last saw him, but he was still so small and light.

" My love..." Lisa heard her husband calling her, she turned and saw the love of her life clad in a simple white dress, which framed perfectly his curves. His shoulder-length was loose and perfectly framed his sharp face which a mustache and a goatee decorated it, giving him a regal and elegant. He looked like a beautiful queen, she went with Adrian in her arms and hugged him. Vlad hugged his wife small body, he was so content to see he and being able to hold her, he was so tired of the long nights absent of her embrace, but now she was with him and his little boy.

Little Adrian was so joyful to be in his parents’ arms and that his “father” was able to fulfill her promise and be for fifth birthday. The gifts weren’t the reason he waited for his birthdays, but the opportunity to share it with his parents and being dotted with all of their love.

~ ~~~~~~~~

Finally, I had this short story in my drafts for months, it was supposed to be posted during December, but many things happened that delayed this story. But the most important thing is that it’s finished. Also, thank you for everyone who reads my story and enjoy my blog, I appreciate a lot!

~ LordMyst 🌟✨💫

[seancamerons]

Mia Jones

so mia's life post degrassi isn't very simple there is a life beyond degrassi community school. (under the cut!)

so its like what? 2009? 2010 if i remember correctly she went to paris so from paris onward. she was working there for a time but it's different than growing up where she did and maybe she wants to do things beyond modeling. holding that thought on the back burner but it comes in and out her consciousness.

she's isolated or with the party scenes and such maybe she experiments a lot left to own devices goes a little bit overboard in a lot of ways. after some clarity or fear of losing everything, eventually maybe if things dry up or things are changing going in other directions job opportunities aren't so much of a pay off just getting generally bored and exhausting and competition and it all becomes too much maybe she gets homesick or something? whatever it may be, maybe she wants to focus on her lifetime responsibilities. so before all that realization and looking inside of herself and her life big picture, aiming high but being realistic of course say initially her mom and Isabella pack up and move and join her in pairs where the damage was done and mama jones regrets the whole thing, and sees mia is either depressed, addicted to drugs, maybe drinking to much or a combination and maybe something huge happens where she hides it for a long time and then by the third or fourth week it appears to be what it is and mama jones and mia talk rehab, talk about maybe making changes, and mia is disillusioned self conscious and like it or not tired. the money and vices that come with modeling perhaps come up they have to devise a new game plan, for the best interest of everyone. mama jones (name?) maybe wants more stability for isabella, while she can't live with irresponsible lucas, and jane has since skipped town and eventually traveled and did run into mia and updated her in the 411 back at home. what became of peter and their other friends and lucas came up naturally or whatever. he seemed to never really launch or aspire to be anything and still lives with their mom. who does continue to keep in touch with mama jones and mia and of course always sends her love and gifts and such.

lucas had since been kind of on the outside of mia's life and Isabella's. but now that he's older he feels guilty, but also doesn't want to do anything with his life either. with his former friends in varying things such as working, or in jail, or bad boy turned good johnny dimarco distantcing himself from his bad boy past.

like mia and all avoiding that kind of stuff too the difference between mia and lucas is that mia clawed her way out in contrast, lucas stayed pretty much the same and got by coasted on videogames and weed self medicating and in the last 10 years has not communicated much. he signs moms cards. he doesn't go out of his way. isabella stopped caring or expecting anything from lucas.

she doesnt even call him dad but by his first name. legally he's not even responsible because something I'll explain later. obviously he's not really dad material so mia as always picked up the slack with the help of mia's mom obviously.

we know mia's mom did double duty but mia is ready to give Isabella stability. we all know the modeling gigs she got in France were lucrative. she did jetset for a time to Milan and became a muse for a start up fashionline and it was the most she'd been paid for anything ever but felt tempted again and started inching her way toward the allure of the lifestyle that almost killed her career and had to take a step back.

by this time, she's getting older now, she wants to leave that part of her life behind. she's not so keen on returning back to degrassi/toronto so she settled in california and with her earnings she saved up over time. she did it smart, played it safe but for good reason. she always knew it wasn't going to last forever but it was a fun experience while it lasted and something she was immensely she's grateful for. modeling was sometimes good, but ultimately it wasn't for her.

between the consequential nature of her first gig (t-bombz) there were several smear campaigns (fans of tom of course) that caught wind of the less than clean-cut contradicting image of tom who was embroiled in scandals after a while when people started tipping off the press to his less than innocent sex parties with minors it landed in him in hot water naturally metoo movement decimated his career and he was hurting in his wallet. he allegedly was injured around this time and all these things were coming out and none of it looked good for him or mia, and his career dried but he has money like mia, but he's low profile. he'll do anything for the limelight he's cashing in and worked on some memoir where he dished.

so he does some interviews for promoting the new book on tv and it was all over the place, inescapable and the fall out was AWFUL and like holly j in the past the receipts and past caught up to mia and her now teenage daughter by this time in life.

she sues for defamation, he countersues but eventually they both settle it's rough on both of them this lasts a long while, Isabella is discovers this about her mom and thinks back to her limited memories and finds it horrifying and their relationship isn't the best and they go thru a rift and low point in their dynamic. she really didn't know her mom, raised by her grandma for over a year while mia was first starting out with her modeling career obviously, so she became more accustomed to that. mia made sacrifices but claimed it was mostly for them, issy doesn't buy it. mia and her daughter fall out privately, now that was all in vain because issy doesn't want her mom around her, she needs time to heal from that and is closer to grandma anyway.

so with her deadbeat dad, mom's bad reputation and sordid rep, grandma seems the best option. they relocate back to toronto and she even goes to degrassi for a time but mia stays in California for commercials, modeling, influencer culture and tries to put the past behind her. a roller coaster esque uphill and downhill battle.

she really never intended to be a mom anyhow and doesn't feel the motherly connection she did when she was full-time mom part-time student, pre-modeling.

she and peter reconnect and they make beautiful music together literally and figuratively. he too lives out in la and works for various music outlets as a producer and mia was signed to one of these record companies, he helped her cultivate her image, hire staff and they eventually though late night recording sessions made a love story of their own working on mia's album. they lived pretty happily ever after and eventually got married a year or two later.

her mom's upcoming marriage to her former high school flame prompted Isabella to want to be close to mom once again, mend fences and such both suffered a lot. maybe they didn't have the traditional mother-and-daughter relationship at any point in their lives but Isabella decided to accept peter as a father figure and reclaim her place with mia once again. mia put her mom in a motherinlaw suite by their pool house to take care of her mom so she's still close. she approves of peter. lucas' life tragically continued going downward and he stayed in toronto watching mia continue to rise, their daughter being taken care of by mia's family and he feels hurt. jane's mom chooses to be more active and visits Isabella and mia with jane sometimes. lucas on the other hand does nothing about it accepts it, and signs over his parental rights and neglects to tell them.

So Jane and of course their hs friends and former studz members even spinner and such visit peter and mia from time to time a few times out of the year and its nice. sometimes it truly takes a village, absence makes the heart grow fonder. sometimes found families are the best families. nobody has it completely together, teen moms can live productive lives, sometimes the career you initially pursue realsiticly isn't the best fit. sometimes people struggle. sometimes with the best intentions, you can't control the feelings and reactions of others such as Isabella and mia's struggle to find peace and comfort in their later years and eventually can rebuild their relationships. some people even if you push them, they got to want to be successful or try and fail, instead of remaining complacent and doing nothing to improve their situation. all people are valid, all of this is some people's reality perhaps not the modeling and singing and peter' (i can't believe this is peter) but some version of a guy who started one way and grew up to be admirable, sweet and responsible with goals and passions and living sober and working hard every day to remain that way and be a good example to friends, family and success isn't linear

blady blah. this is rooough, and long and all but here ya go! thank you! TLDR mia models for a long time but grows disinterests and tries on many careers before finally moving on and up and reconnects with peter and they later marry. her relationship with Isabella is rocky and inconsistent and eventually become better than ever and mama jones lucas' mom, jane and old friends often visit and take big roles in Isabella, mia and her mom share a property and mia takes care of her mom and is thankful for her and Isabella. lucas' life tragically never becomes much of anything and is essentially a bum, a footnote and not involved, signed over his rights and Isabella doesn't take him seriously being burned by his neglect and does not really talk or keep in touch. it's not all perfect.

💌 ask me about a degrassi character/fictional character to rewrite/expand upon

[altocat]

A complete stranger, but a long-time fan! Yay!!

Since Sephiroth headcanons are just cancerous to my brain and soul, whad’ya think would happen if Nibelheim never went down (like Sephiroth denied the mission, their driver got sick, etc)? Do you think he’d abandon Shinra and live in the city somewhere, or do you think he was always just a ticking time bomb ready to explode?

I like to think he’d move to Gongaga with Zack, and botta bing botta boom! He’s got a loving brother and not-so-alien-like parents! <3 (But your mind’s a lot more angsty than mine, so I’d love to know your thoughts! xD)

I often think of this one a lot. I think it yields two major outcomes, each completely different from the other.

-The first, more positive outcome would have likely been Sephiroth breaking off from Shinra after becoming too disillusioned with the program. I don't see Zack sticking around in SOLDIER in the long run after what happened to Angeal so I imagine they'd continue to remain on good terms.

Sephiroth takes whatever compensation the company is willing to give him and gets the hell out of dodge, opting for someplace quieter and less stressful. He has half a mind to go looking for Genesis in time, as the Nibelheim backstab never happens. But for the most part, he resigns himself to the fact that he needs to acclimate to a better life elsewhere, one suitably less violent and FAR away from Hojo. I could definitely see him settling somewhere in Cosmo Canyon, endlessly fascinated with the stars. He keeps off the grid from SOLDIER and tries not to think about the fact that his questions will never be answered.

Eventually, after Genesis is saved like in Crisis Core (because Zack would still do that), the two reconcile. Now suitably older and more mature, they find themselves drawn together again, culminating in them both saying screw it and hooking up. Genesis never tells him the truth about Project S, of course. That would be too cruel. They enjoy a peaceful life together in Cosmo Canyon, Zack occasionally visiting to keep them up to date on the comings and goings of Shinra, regardless of whether or not he's still in the program.

-The second outcome is much darker. Sephiroth grows disillusioned but finds that he can't let SOLDIER go, due to years and years of conditioning. He runs himself ragged and endlessly frets over the fates of his friends, despite the fact that they both abandoned him. He seems perfectly calm and ordered like always, but something inside is slowly festering and breaking. Eventually, he begins detaching altogether, shifting into a state of almost robotic apathy and contempt for everything. In actuality, he's incredibly depressed and finds it difficult to feel anything remotely positive anymore.

And finally, during a particularly nasty, violent, taunting session with Hojo, he slips. When they find the mangled remains of the scientist, Sephiroth is in a state of shellshock, covered in blood and fully unhinged.

They keep him fully sedated after that, a mindless drone they can control at will. I'd like to hope that Zack and Cloud help break him out eventually. The pain is too great and Sephiroth is honestly too tired to care anymore. He's already lost the two people who were really the only family he ever knew and he's absolutely murdered his suspected father.

He'd need serious healing and counseling, even without Jenova's influence. He often has bad days where he regresses altogether, reverting to an almost childlike state, asking for Gast. Through patience, kindness, and getting him FAR away from Midgar, he begins to come back to himself again. But it would likely take years before he could fully heal.

....The third option is the plot to Shelter so yeah 😅

[pastelpaperplanes]

(perm. dancer anon) Hmm, now I'm curious as to how/why Megatron has chosen the mob life. Is it related to widespread corruption throughout Cybertron? If so, then could he be persuaded to shift his business model a bit away from the extreme stuff, possibly by a certain little dancer? And could Optimus, in turn, be forced to SEE this corruption and become disillusioned (possibly kicked off by Sentinel's reveal)? idk, I just feel as though they can meet in the middle and compromise somewhere.

Megatron and Megazarak grew up in the gutters, doing so forced them to make their own way by any means necessary, that being by clawing their way to titles as boxing champions seeing as they had nothing but their unnatural brawling skills—with so little money and all the tenacity and desperation in the world they got what was due to them. Being know well enough through the streets as being able to more than hold their own, they were taken under the wing by the smaller gangs as muscle-for-hire.

Glavatron was the impressive, but elderly leader of the main narcotics trade at the time, and having no kids of his own he took a great liking to their charm and above all ambition, he saw great potential in one of the two becoming perhaps an heir to the soon to be anticipated growing crime empire he’d built for himself.

If this succession were to go by the rule of the firstborn, Zarak would have been Galvatron’s heir. This was to be expected and not at all appreciated by just about every mecha in their line of work, but little did anyone but Galvatron himself know that he had always intended to have a, hopefully, peaceful passage of power to Megatron instead.

Megazarak was known for being the much more unruly twin. Having a notorious bloodlust and absolutely no desire to work for anyone but himself made him the perfect candidate for a tyrant position, not a true leader and diplomat for sustaining and growing what could one day be a top dog Mob organization.

Megatron had always been a charming and expertly calculated mech dating all the way back to his teens. While his brother called him a coward and a kiss-ass at times, it was his ability to weigh his options before picking fights, as well a his gifts for using his whit and natural-born people skills that got the two out of more than a few tricky spots when Zarak got them into trouble.

Megatron has a talent of being able to break others into submission through speech rather that rely on his fists like his brutish brother fell back on near every confrontation. It was Megatron’s level head, ability to work with others, and belief in intimidation through first a show of power—force being the last resort—that made him Galvatron’s primary candidate.

Galvatron’s intent to ease this fact to Zarak did not go over well, as their late night, paired off, heart-to-heart took a turn for the worst when Magazarak took to violence upon hearing that the power would not fall to him. The secret of Megatron being the rightful successor to the trade died with Galvatron as Zarak quiety and quickly ensured that the Kingpin looked as if he’d passed in his sleep.

Tyranny was what Magazarak led with no surprise. Granted his reign went about for years before finally Megatron could admit that enough was enough, a great deal of damage had been done with what could be decades of cleanup should Megazarak choose to step down peacefully and let the Brains of the twin duo take over.

Relations with paid off officers were torn to shreds, political allies rightfully offended by rude remarks of petty power, lowley street gang violence was at an all time high for clients who had paid hefty prices for their protection, the horrific trafficking trade had found its way back again into the city, rumored to be discretely tied with members of their once respectable Mob—needless to say Zarak had run the city’s crime underworld into the ground, soon to be swallowed up in complete unbridled chaos should a leader not step up quickly to repair the bridges Megazarak had demolished.

The older you get, the more family is everything. Megatron had come to learn this having alway had his brother by his side since their beginning, to finally the bitter end that was their once unbreakable loyalty to each other. Megatron blamed himself for letting his twin fall this far off the deep end.

His twin had turned to a relentless monster of unrestrained voilence, and disgusting tenacity. With no end in sight to the madness that had become Megazarak—Megatron knew that he’d already mourned for the brother he once knew, burying him long before he finally saw to it that his brother was put down conspicuously through the disguise of an accidental OD.

And so the ‘peaceful’ passage of power started again.

It killed Megatron to betray his brother, never once would he have ever considered he would be the one execute the order, to murder his own blood—but the only that that gives Megatron even some semblance of peace is knowing that no one else would have to fall victim to heartless dictator that had become of Megazarak.

Megatron chose the mob life because he found himself robbed of options. If he chose to instead run, he would have watched a power vacuum ripped the city apart due to the wake of his brother’s incompetence.

The city’s crime ring needed a leader effective immediately, Megatron chose to stay and repair what Megazarak had destroyed.

True to his predictions, decades have passed and there is still much to be done, so much to ensure a safe future to before he should even begin to let himself hope for a day where he could possibly retire.

There are good and bad days that come with being an all powerful Mob Boss. Yes the club revenue funds are nice, the security comforting, the parties lavish, and the respect unwavering—but he is in some sense tired after so many years of picking up pieces and catering to so much violence, justified in some sense as it is.

In an ideal world, he’d trade the glory for a possibility of truly falling in love, living off his writing, and possibly settling down—a fantasy he knows he could never have nor would he express any explicit interest in should he hope to keep his head on straight.

Megatron is in many way, trapped. No matter how much he aches to follow a certain pretty dancer, he knows his place and knows it will enough to be his permanence.

[prbni]

Dramione Headcanons/Prompts

(Note:Might update the post and tags according to the requirement)

A 15 y/o Scorpius Malfoy accidentally stumbles upon a pensive of his father, that contains the memories of a certain witch he had feelings for before he met Scorp's mother. Seeing the loneliness and despair that has fallen upon his father after the death of his mother Astoria, Scorpius decides to use the prohibited Time-Turner to change the courses of the past.

But this meant two things: he'd never be able to experience the love and warmth of his mother and....he probably would cease to exist.

"This is madness Scorp!" Albus shouted angrily. " Uncle Ron and Auntie Mione are happily married. They have loved each other for ages. And this also means,Rose wouldn't exist as well. Do you really intend to do this over the one-sided crush that your father had on Auntie Mione once upon a time?!"

Basically, Albus trying to convince him in all possible ways that this is a bad idea.

Cue to Ron and Hermione arguing at the backyard of Harry-Ginny's house. They even forgot to cast Silencing Charm. Hence,everyone including the kids heard their argument.

"Oh,stop behaving like you're the only one who has been compromising in this marriage!!! Did I tell you to give up your position in the Ministry of Magic? No!" Ron yelled. " Why are you even bringing this up?! I never said it was your fault or anything!"Hermione tried to reason. "BECAUSE I'M TIRED. TIRED OF EVERYONE PRETENDING LIKE YOU HAVE DONE ME A FAVOR BY MARRYING ME WHEN IT IS THE OPPOSITE!!!" "Wh-what do you mean?"Hermione asked meekly. Ron scoffed. "Your parents are gone,Hermione. If we didn't take you into the Burrow, you wouldn't have anywhere to go. You needed us. You needed me." Hermione looked like she was trying to process the words that Ron just said. Or maybe, she was just trying to convince herself that Ron is capable of saying something like this. It's just Ron being in a foul mood. He definitely doesn't mean it."Ron let's talk about this tomorrow, okay?" Hermione tried to calm herself down. "Harry and Ginny are probably waiting for us in the dining table."

"Why? Can't face the truth?" Ron sneered. "If you were sensible enough Ronald, we'd be having this conversation at our own home,with a Silencing Charm on and without children listening to this," Hermione retorted while hinting towards Albus and Scorpius behind them,who were looking warily back and forth between the older duo. It took a while before Ron realised what she meant and grudgingly complied to go inside the house.

Scorpius gave Albus a if-this-is-what-you-mean-by-them-being-a-happy-couple look.

"Well,older couples fight. My parents fight as well. Uncle Ron is a bit aggressive,you know. But they have been like this for years.Also we don't know what actually happened between them.See,Aunty Mione didn't even fight him back," defended Albus."She didn't fight back because she knew we were listening,Al. And I don't know but this sounded more like defamation than argument." Albus sighed loudly,aware that there's no point in arguing. "So, you're still keen on getting Mr.Malfoy and Auntie Granger together in the past?" he asked instead.

"I think now I'm even more keen on getting them together,"Scorpius replied with a slight grin.

Yule Ball AU: Draco is awed when Hermione descends downstairs.

His expressions form into a scowl when he witnesses Ron and Hermione's encounter,and it pisses him off to no end when he sees her crying.

"Pathetic shite really. Ruined the whole festive mood" he mutters to himself. Even all the purring and cooing of Pansy Parkinson beside him couldn't fix his mood."Well that's what she gets for gushing over Weaselby of all possible blokes. Even Longbottom or Potter would know better than making her cry at the Ball. Seems like Weasley lacks in everything,even courting manners. But well,what do I care?"

"Enough to disturb others' sleep through your late night self-indulgent altercations" a voice drawled in beside his bed.

"Seriously,mate. Try to sleep or let others sleep. This was a long,tiring day and we have a tournament ahead,"Theo grumbled from under the covers while Draco shot a glare at this direction.

Another Time Travel fic. This time it's Hermione and Draco going back to time for their own purposes but getting entangled in the middle as they decide to help each other out before returning to the original timeline.

"Be wise before you hold my hand,Granger" Draco said. "I'm not just offering you for a dance. I'm offering you for a lifetime with me. Once you accept this, you're never returning to Weasley."

If Hermione didn't know better what Draco looks like and sounds like when he's joking,she'd almost think this was just one of his attempts at flirting. But one look at his eyes and the intonation of his words sent her shivers.

"That's not how time traveling works,Malfoy. We aren't supposed to end up together. That's not why we're here,"she explained.

"It's okay,Granger. You can just tell me you don't want this,"he chuckled bitterly. "For if you did, you wouldn't care what happens and what's supposed to happen. You'd just join me without excuses."

"I'm not making excuses,Draco. I'm a mother as well. If I mess here in this timeline, they'd be gone there in the future,"seethed Hermione.

One of the common tropes here: Compulsory Marriage under Marriage Law post-war. Here, Hermione is literally fighting with the Ministry to prevent her marriage with Draco. While Draco reluctantly agreed to the marriage since this was the only way to save himself from landing into Azkaban, Hermione had a huge outburst.

"Minister,are you seriously telling me I have to marry this git?" Hermione scoffed in disbelief. "Now now Granger. That's not the way to refer to your future husband," Draco drawled in. She almost forgot Kingsley called both of them to talk about their compatibility in terms of marriage. "Quite rich coming from someone that called me filthy mudblood the entire time he'd known me".That seemed to shut Draco up. The Minister in the question coughed a bit to grab their attention. "Hermione, I'm sorry,okay? I tried talking with the other ministers about this. But nobody including myself seem to come up with a solution better than this." "Granger, don't act like this is a punishment only for you. If choices or circumstances were any better, I'd rather do a dirty dance with goblins of the Gringotts than showing up here and talk about the prospect of marriage....or whatever this is," Draco said in an annoyed tone."Serves you right for all the horrid things you were part of," Hermione replied to him and then turned to Shacklebolt, " I understand why and how this is a punishment to him. But this is a punishment to me as well. And what am I being punished for?"she almost cried out. Draco visibly flinched a bit. "Ever since I stepped into the Wizarding World, almost everyone has taken a knack of making a point to me that I'll never be good enough to belong here. So, I studied.I learnt as much as possible,more than anyone else and tried to dedicate myself to whatever it takes to make a perfect witch. Then, Voldemort returned. Second Wizarding War came along. Everyone talks about what or who has been lost who has made sacrifices but does anyone know I had to take it to myself to wipe out my parents' memories of me and drive them away because the Wizarding World cannot provide them with protection?!"Her eyes were glistened and voice became hoarse. "Hermione,you have to know I'm sorry and thankful-" "No,Minister. I'm not holding anyone accountable for what became of my parents. That's completely my own doing.What I'm trying to understand is after everything I've seen and been through, why am I to be hitched against my own volition to this rotten scum of a Deatheater?!" "Ex.Death. Eater,"Draco said in a dangerously low voice. "You have all the reasons to hate me,Granger. But don't carelessly throw around words like you know me. Despite all the hatred and animosity over the years, I tried to warn you during the Triwizard tournament. I didn't want you to end up at the Manor and I definitely didn't want this!"he shrieked pointing at her forearm where that eight-lettered word was curved in forever. "I didn't want this either," he said in a softer tone,pointing at his own forearm and own scar this time. "So,you see. I'm not the good guy that you'd want as your husband. But I'm not as evil as you expect me to be either." Draco's eyes held nothing but honesty and sincerity which took Hermione aback. "Have you said your piece?" she asked with a renewed vigor to which Draco nodded.

"I'd submit my wand and all magical articles to your office tomorrow,Minister. And return to the Muggle world for good. I shall take your leave now." With that she stomped out of the room without even sparing the other two wizards a glance or letting them speak.

Draco's boggart wasn't his father's disappointment in him. Heck it wasn't even the Dark Lord himself. His boggart was a certain Muggleborn witch crying and writhing in pain on the stone cold floor of the Manor,her screams ringing through the Manor walls tortured by his own aunt while he stands there like a coward, doing nothing,not even looking at her.

After being able to successfully able to restore her parents' memories using the Memory Charm,ever-so-curious Hermione Granger tries it on herself. What she didn't expect was an overwhelming rush of memories consisting of a certain very familiar blonde with very unfamiliar moments between them. Shock,surprise,sadness and anger crashed down on her altogether. Did anyone else know? Had he obliviated himself as well?

She knew accepting a dare from Weasley Twins meant trouble. Yet,when they called her a scaredy cat for trying to back down from the bet,she lunged into it. Even if that meant she had to stalk Draco Malfoy the annoying ferret for a week while disillusioning herself. What she didn't realise was that the thing that started as a dare would become habit while being thrust into a totally different perspective of what the-boy-who-made-her-school-life-hell really was.

She was tired of being called ‘boring’ and ‘no fun’. The one time she decided to pull on a prank was on someone no one would expect. Draco Malfoy. So,when an accident happens while concucting the Love Potion and the cauldron explodes,Hermione falls in love with her forever nemesis. Or should I say, pretends to fall in love with him.Draco Malfoy was already having a hard time accomplishing the task he was assigned with. A bushy headed witch being all sappy and clingy was the last thing he needed at the moment.

[themurphyzone]

PatB AU: Mewtwo Strikes Back AU Part 1

PatB AU inspired by Mewtwo’s story in Mewtwo Strikes Back. 

1. Pinky was created first. The gene splicing gave him telekinesis, and while powerful, he mostly uses it for flight and entertaining himself with giant pink bubbles. The environment he grew up in was a small, friendly sort. He was treated well and viewed the lab as a home and family. 

As a child, Pinky was playing in a nearby forest, when he sees and hears a sudden explosion. And he discovers the lab was blown up. There’s no sign of his family anywhere. 

Pinky believes they’re just playing hide and seek, but over time, he can’t help but wonder if they abandoned him. He grows into an adult, wandering the world in the hopes he’ll find them once again. 

2. Pinky’s favorite story is the Tears of Life, first told to him by a kind scientist who often told him bedtime stories. In this story, a terrible storm befell the Earth, nearly wiping out all life. The few surviving animals wept for the ones who died, and their tears brought them back to life. 

He cries every time he hears it, and the scientist passed the moral ‘life is wonderful’ to him. It’s one of his most cherished memories. 

3. What Pinky doesn’t know is this: His family was taken hostage by a larger, dominant laboratory empire known as ACME for their research into creating life. The hostages were forced to admit and turn over all their research, and when ACME felt they obtained everything of value, they were killed. 

The explosion was a cover-up. They claimed it was a chemical explosion related to unsafe handling and storage. Though some were suspicious, especially the victims’ families, they were scared into silence. 

4. One week later, ACME grows many rodents from test tubes in what becomes known as Project B.R.A.I.N. The idea was that these rodents were simply the beginning, and then that humanity would soar to new heights with more complex creations now that they had the answer to creating life. 

In one of these test tubes, a young mouse slumbers. 

5. The mouse hears voices of the outside world, and he continually hears B.R.A.I.N, and believes that’s his name. In the mental world, he wakes up in a meadow filled with many rodents. The older ones are keeping house, while the younger ones go out and play together. 

Brain is best friends with a hamster named Snowball, and there’s several others within their group. 

Everything is happy. There’s no danger, no predators, and nothing to fear. 

But it doesn’t last. 

6. ACME discovers that all the rodents they’ve grown from cells are dying quickly. They don’t understand why, but everyone’s in overdrive trying to preserve their test subjects. 

Brain and Snowball come back from a little adventure, only to discover the community in disarray. A rat is screaming as his guinea pig friend disappears. Younger mice are wailing. Older ones are desperately trying to account for everybody. 

Brain can’t find the mice he considers his parents anywhere, no matter how much he screams for them.

The idyllic meadow is gone. It’s just a world of darkness. Brain and Snowball are the only ones left. 

Until Snowball starts to disappear too. 

And Brain is all alone. 

7. In the outside world, the scientists discover that all but one of their test subjects have perished. They don’t know how or why only one survived, but they pour their efforts into stabilizing him. The mental waves are strong and rapid, and they see it has raw, untapped psychic energy that could make it a force to fear. They quickly sedate the young mouse, forcibly attempting to erase the memory of the terrible event so that it doesn’t remember the bonds he shared with the other test subjects. They realize their creation is very, very dangerous. 

What they can’t see though, is Brain’s mental anguish. He’s alone in a world of darkness, with nothing but his thoughts and faraway voices for company. 

He doesn’t understand why everyone is gone, nor why he’s crying. He learns what pain is for the first time, and he hates it. These emotions are all useless to him. 

His name is Brain. But he doesn’t understand why he’s here. What his purpose is. What he’s meant to be. 

8. Brain grows into adulthood within several months. Though he lies in stasis within his tube, his powers have grown much stronger since that fateful day. He hears voices. 

And he’s tired of doing nothing. He wants to be in the outside world. He breaks free, shattering the glass that once held him. 

The scientists are shocked at first, but when they realize Brain can speak English, their excitement grows. Brain tells them his name, but they all call him The Subject or a variation of that phrase. Brain hates it. 

They ask Brain if he wants to become even more powerful than he is already, because while he broke out of the tube by himself, his powers are still raw and developing. 

Interested in the prospect, Brain accepts. 

So the scientists provide him with armor, specially fitted and designed to concentrate that psychic energy.  

It has another purpose too: Brain is small and vulnerable. The armor helps him with that sense of control. Makes him more intimidating and mysterious. 

9. Brain grows used to the armor and only removes it when he’s eating or bathing. He feels more in control. The scientists put him to work immediately. 

For the rest of the year, opponents of ACME are dealt with swiftly, Rivals, political opponents, and activists alike are shut down by Brain’s overwhelming powers. He can unleash powerful waves without physically touching someone. He can construct barriers to protect himself if someone tries to strike him. He strikes fear into their hearts and nobody ever believes the stories the unfortunate people tell. That ACME has a powerful creature, no bigger than a mouse, and heaven forbid they send him to deal with you. 

Over time, Brain grows increasingly disillusioned with his status as ACME’s hitman. He tells himself that he needs to focus his powers, that he needs practice, but something about this situation doesn’t sit right with him. 

Could it be that he’s hurting innocents? Or that none of his assignments have helped him find a greater purpose, or that he barely knows who he is beyond his name? 

10. On the one year anniversary of the day he broke free from his tubing, Brain is about to receive another assignment. Brain decides he’s finishes with these tasks and wants something far more important. 

But the scientists just scoff. “You were created by humans to serve humans.” 

They expect him to take care of this task without complaint. 

But Brain refuses. If he’s as inferior as they claim, why is he so powerful then? Humans don’t have his genius or his powers. 

He’s sick of being The Subject. He is the Brain, and he’s going to make sure they remember that. 

No, from this day forward, humans were going to serve him. 

11. An enraged Brain destroys the lab. But he makes sure the scientists remain alive. 

He doesn’t care about them (right?). He just wants them to live so they have to watch him become the ruler of humanity. It would be the ultimate revenge. 

Brain flies off into the night, leaving a ruined lab behind him. He keeps the armor though. He’s stronger, less vulnerable with it on. 

ACME has lost a valuable commodity. 

The destruction doesn’t make Brain feel better. But he pushes that feeling aside. And he starts to hatch his plot to bring the world to its knees. 

12. Meanwhile, another lone mouse is searching the world for his family. He’s met all kinds of lovely folks, but everyone moves on eventually. But he doesn’t give up hope. They’re out there, somewhere. And he’ll find them even if it takes his whole life to do so. 

I decided to combine elements of the Japanese and English Mewtwo here. The Japanese one is more confused than anything, while the English dub has Mewtwo proclaiming himself as the most powerful in the world. 

Pinky is more like the English Mew, who’s more altruistic than the Japanese counterpart. The Japanese Mew actually proclaimed real Pokemon superiority and gave no qualms about clones. 

Some parts have been shifted around or changed. It’s not a complete rehash. 

4kids originally cut Amber and Mewtwo’s story, which they shouldn’t have since it adds depth to Dr. Fuji and gives Mewtwo his philosophy in life. 

Fun fact: The Tears of Life story as explained by the pier manager was an addition to the dub to explain the Tears of Life in Ash’s famous revival scene.

[that-bi-bitch-writes]

P S Y C H (ch.1)

I hate definition intros but it has to be done: The word "PSYCH" is commonly used online and in conversation as a slang term to indicate that something that has just been said or typed was intended as a prank on the recipient or a joke.

Also short for Psychic

Next Chapter

Say what you want about organized religion, but you can’t deny that it is one of the most dangerous weapons on the planet. For centuries people have developed weapons and fought wars in the name of their beliefs. They’ve conquered lands and assimilated nations. Give the people superpowers and there’s no way people don’t die on a daily basis. Unless you give them lame ass powers and call them quirks. God’s funny like that. Most people get run of the mill things like the ability to draw small objects close to them. That way there’s a power imbalance in the world. It’s less chaos if only a select few get the good abilities. Less people question God’s authority that way. Those who get the awesome superpowers are seen as blessed, divine. Honored.  

[Mo.Name] [L.Name] was not blessed. She was liked by God at best. Being an empath, her quirk was not something to marvel at. If she worked hard to develop it, she could use her quirk offensively and defensively or even professionally but she would never be someone who was in charge of maintaining the world order. 

As she grew older she would become disillusioned with God and the blessed individuals that policed over the nations. They called themselves heroes, and a few people were but everything about hero society just didn’t sit well with her. She became a teacher instead and worked with kids with special needs. When they had trouble expressing themselves she could use her quirk to get a feel for what they needed in the moment or she could project enough calmness that they could pull themselves together and communicate without throwing a fit. 

She had a kid at a young age. 30 years old. Not too young and not too old. But by the time she was 35 she was a single mother. Her kid was the best. He didn’t cry too often and he learned how to speak very young. He soaked up information like a sponge and he didn’t develop a flashy quirk like the heroes she felt mild contempt for. Her baby was ignored by God.

Psych.

“No one is born equal. Yadda yadda yadda- How long has he been planning this monologue? No seriously it’s been playing in his head since the day (not really) we first met and I’m kind of bored of it now”

Izuku Midoriya was not a late bloomer. He never got his quirk, he has the extra toe joint, and he was bullied for being powerless. A Deku. [Name] [L.Name] WAS a late bloomer. He got teased a little, picked on. Sometimes people even gave him pitying looks. But it all ended  when he turned about six. There’s that old saying: two roads diverged in a yellow wood. Well one of those roads is for those scorned, and the other for those who who were touched by fire yet never burned. The sinner and the saint. What a traveller wouldn’t know is, that at some point, the roads converge. How else are they supposed to get to the same destination?

Wonder, outsiders..who is on which road? What makes the sinner a sinner and not a saint?

“Using your quirk in public is illegal”

“And minding your own business is free” [Name] bit back. What’s a little telekinesis gonna do? Cause mass destruction? Widespread panic? He just didn’t want to touch the handle on the door. Public spaces are very unsanitary... it’s not like his arms are too sore to do any sort of lifting. Nope. Not at all.

[Name] had unfortunately spent the entire weekend doing his least favorite activity. Physical exercise. Of course with a quirk like his he’d rarely ever need physical strength, but that’s exactly what everyone else would think. And [Name] is the type of kid that wants you to doubt him so he can feel the rush of proving you wrong. It’s a warped mindset but when no one ever expects anything from you, it’s kind of a thrill to see the surprised looks on their faces. A psychic with impressive physical strength would be the same as someone 5’6 (167.6 cm) dominating a sport made for tall people. Like basketball. Or volleyball.

Anyway, [Name] was in the sportswear store, a place he’d rather not be caught dead in, trying to get support for his wrists. Most of his quirk usage was through precise hand movements, a slight flick of the wrist could easily send someone flying. His hands, and by extension his wrists were very important. A punch thrown wrong during training could fracture that oh so important wrist, hence the whole idea of getting wrist wraps. 

For once [Name] was actually being proactive and he was very proud of himself for thinking of the idea in the first place. His eyes glowed golden as he reached his hand out to grab the wraps floating down from the top shelf. The UA exams were in about a week and a half and he had no idea what to expect. So he would train for everything they could throw at him. Even if it meant he had to go back to throwing punches at an oversized bag of sand.

[Name] used his telekinesis so often the drawback was nearly negligible. But if he did overuse it, the damage was a headache that could range from minor inconveniences like losing your chapstick, to a grenade going off in an enclosed space. The big ones weren’t usually the problem. The problem would be somewhere in the middle, because it would cause him to lose control of his telepathy, and once the headache combined with the voices of everyone in a 50 meter vicinity his brain would get seriously overwhelmed. Ultimately he’d be passed out on the ground within 5 minutes. 

For the first year and a half of middle school three times a week [Name] would have fighting training along with weight training, alternating days so that he’d have a break in between each session. This was all pretty much to catch up with his rapidly developing quirk. [Name]’s body wasn’t prepared for the use of his quirk. He grew to the age of 6 doing things normally until his untapped power literally exploded out of him. Talk about damage control. For quirk training he usually offered to help his neighbor who ran a junkyard by lifting cars and other heavy things telekinetically. An unofficial part of the training regime, [Name] would also read other people’s thoughts all day everyday. He said it was to get used to hearing others’ voices in his head. But that was only a half truth. [Name] was just extremely nosy, but he went about it in a casual way. He probably should apologize for the invasion of privacy but he loved every minute of it. Besides, listening to the spirits of others could be considered a god-honored practice.

On the day of the entrance exams [Name] regretted everything. He’d decided to become a hero for fun, less than two weeks prior (the whole reason he went to the sportswear store and started working out again), and by the grace of god he was regretting it. Not because he was nervous he’d fail, at least he wasn’t before he got there. It was just SO loud. He’d gotten better at controlling his quirk since he began using telepathy to eavesdrop but the last time he was in a room full of this many people was the middle school entrance ceremony (which he skipped halfway through because of a headache. By the way how could so many kids sitting in silence be so loud). It made sense, he was not used to having to deal with the noise of people muttering, thinking, PANICKING. And now that his quirk is stronger than what it was before everything felt ten times worse. [Name] leaned forward and tapped the green haired boy sitting in front of him muttering. Not only could he hear the boy’s thoughts going a mile a minute but his mouth was too. The kid whipped around eyes wide and shook nervously. [Name] was about to ask him to quiet down but got confused when he made sense of the kid’s thoughts. 

The kid was obviously a fanboy muttering about Present Mic who was getting on [Name]’s nerves a little with his exorbitant amount of energy. Before [Name] could say anything the ash-blonde near the fanboy spoke up.

“He’s probably telling you to shaddup”

The green haired boy opened his mouth to apologize and then realized he would be making more noise and quickly shut it before nodding profusely. [Name] was tired of referring to them by their hair colors and may have invaded the fanboy’s head for some background information on the two and got more than he bargained for. The fanboy whose name was apparently Izuku, was not only sitting next to Bakugou, his childhood bully, but just this morning he had gained an immense amount of power, officially becoming All Might’s successor. Oh look, two of them would be taking the exam in the same area. Things at UA were gonna get interesting.

[shortkingzuko]

title: the ocean on a gentle night

relationship: bato/hakoda

post-canon, mutual pining, 3 +1

for day 1 of @bakodafleetweek !!

summary: 3 times Bato and Hakoda pine for each other and the 1 time they don't have to -- For all the fear and terror the ocean inspires, Bato thinks that she tries to make amends with nights like these.

read under the cut or on AO3 for the rest of my tags! :~)

 3.

 The sea shouldn’t be as comforting as it still is. They’ve spent years out on her endless waters, away from families, safety, away from the simple joy of being in their homeland. They’ve lost dozens of men while out on the chaotic waves, have lost a good few just to the waves themselves - taken by the sea’s cold embrace, her damp claws clutching their lungs and hearts. Whether it’s the uncertainty that she possesses - her penchant for turning smooth horizons into the greatest storms - or because her damp fog brings with it illness and coughs, Bato knows that he should be tired of the sea, be disillusioned of her and her power.

 Yet, he isn’t. For all the fear and terror the ocean inspires, Bato thinks that she tries to make amends with nights like these. Nights that have just a slightly cloudy sky, with the barest hint of wake, and stars shining so beautifully that it couldn’t be anything except an apology or a love letter. He thinks of the sea not as a terrible mistress but more like a petulant lover, one who, despite the fits she throws, does love them with all her heart.

 He tells this to Hakoda, who stands silently, contemplating beside him. The theory earns him a chuckle, as he hoped.

 “When did you become such a poet?” Hakoda asks, tilting his head to catch Bato’s gaze as he raises an eyebrow.

 “Maybe I always was, and you just weren’t paying attention.” Bato huffs in fake offence, before breaking out into a grin. The decks of the ship are mostly silent, a few tribesmen milling around, but giving their chief and second-in-command a wide berth. They’re expecting to dock their ships soon, and their intelligence hasn’t indicated any sightings of Fire Nation fleets, so there’s a slightly unusual calmness in the air. A star twinkles down from the sky. Hakoda sighs.

 “What’s wrong, Koda?”

 He shrugs. “Nothing.” He catches Bato’s unamused expression. “Really, it’s nothing. I’m just, you know.”

 “Thinking of Kya?” Bato asks, feeling his heart clench at her name. Even after all this time, Bato feels the loss of her presence like a missing limb, like a piece of ice pressing on the inside of his chest. He may not have loved her like Hakoda did (not like he loves Hakoda), but Bato loved Kya fiercely, with all his heart and soul. He only wishes he could think of her without feeling sorrow.

 “Yeah, I’m thinking of Kya,” Hakoda confirms, smiling a bit at the sky. “She used to love nights like this.”

 “I recall.”

 Hakoda hums. “Remember that time she made us get on a canoe and ride out that iceberg to watch shooting stars? That night was a lot like this.”

 Bato nods at the memory. Kya acting as a navigator at the front of the canoe, Bato and Hakoda both making the boat spin in circles to annoy her. Their laughter rang through the night and attracted the attention of tired seals and curious birds. When they made it to the glacier that Kya was trying to lead them to, the moon was high and bright in the sky, and stars rained across the dark canvas of space. Hakoda and Kya were already dating by then, and Bato looked away every time they kissed, ignoring the dark curl of envy that squirmed between his ribs and coursed through his veins. Ignoring Kya’s apologetic looks that she gave him in between fits of giggles and jokes. He regrets the feelings of resentment he harboured at the time, especially towards her. The envy was long gone by the time Sokka was born, but even now, thinking the anger he felt towards her brings with it a wave of shame.

 “She was so mad when we kept rowing backwards,” Bato says, after a few seconds too long of silence. Hakoda laughs, tilting his head to bump it against Bato’s bicep.

 “Spirits, she was! You’d think with all her shouting at us that our parents would have caught us.”

 “They did catch us, Koda,” Bato reminds him, dryly. Hakoda rolls his eyes.

 “Yeah but not because of her.” Hakoda presses his head against Bato’s arm again, and this time he leaves it there. After a moment Bato brings his arm around Hakoda’s shoulder, softly brushing some of Hakoda’s hair behind his ear. The strands are coarse by nature and by the salt spray of the sea, yet they feel soft and smooth beneath his roughened fingertips. They fall out of place, refusing to go where Bato directs them, prompting him to try again and again.

 “I think she would have made us do something similar on a night like this,” Hakoda says. He doesn’t mention Bato’s hand in his hair or the fact that Bato is gripping him tighter. Wherever her spirit is, Bato hopes that Kya would be okay with this, that she wouldn’t be upset with how he still feels.

 “Yeah,” Bato agrees, feeling Hakoda shift to look up at him. “I think she would too.”

 “Maybe you would have more fun this time around.” Hakoda looks back to the sky, and Bato feels like a fish on the end of a line, mind reeling as he tries to decipher what Hakoda could mean by that. Before he can ask - before he can even think of      how    to ask what he means by that, one of their warriors approaches them, tearing them away from the beautiful sky and the safety of their memories. The warrior tells them that they’re approaching the town they mean to dock in.

 Hakoda nods, steps out of Bato’s embraces as if it’s nothing (and, really, isn’t it nothing?) and goes to do his duties as chief. Bato looks at the sky once last time, looks at the playful waves, and the winking stars, wishing that he had done so all those years ago, before turning and stepping away too.

2.

 Bato’s memories of Sokka and Katara are a bit jarring. He remembers them as young children, toddling around, needing help and saving from everything -      especially    each other. He remembers them as grief-stricken, forced to grow up too soon. They stayed like that in his mind for many years, unchanging, ungrowing, even though every year he and Hakoda tried to send at least a letter home in time for their birthdays. Neither of them is sure if they ever made it. And then, suddenly, the two of them appeared in front of him at the Abbey, so much older, taller, and wiser than he could have ever dreamed. Such little mirrors of their parents, certainly having inherited their attitudes. It almost made Bato feel guilty when he remembers that he got to see them again before Hakoda.

 He knows that Hakoda struggles the same way he does when he thinks of his children. Despite their rational understanding that they’re older now, that they’ve fought hard battles, survived out in the world      alone    and without adult supervision, it’s so hard to separate that from the urge to treat them as the children they were, and still are.

 It causes more than a little friction, and whether it’s because Sokka and Katara see Bato as part of their family (after all, he      is    over for dinner more than anyone else), or whether they would be willing to drag their heels in the snow in front of anyone, they’re not afraid to start arguments with Hakoda in front of Bato.

 He tries to stay out of it but sometimes he just can’t help it.

 “You can’t go boating tomorrow - it’s set to storm,” Bato says, replying to Katara and Sokka’s request to go out. Hakoda had already given a tentative no, but the two of them kept pushing for an answer.

 “So? We’ve dealt with worse weather before,” Sokka says, raising an eyebrow and leaning his head against a hand.

 “You don’t know that,” Bato replies, already regretting getting involved when he sees Katara’s pursed lips and drawn-in eyebrows. “You two      know    how hard it can be to navigate during a storm in the ice fields. And the other times you’ve piloted through bad weather it was in the sky, with other benders. Tomorrow, all you would have is Katara.”

 “I can handle it,” Katara says confidently, crossing her arms across her chest.

 “I’m not questioning your skill,” Bato tries to placate, knowing it won’t help him. “But all you need is to get caught off guard for a moment and that’ll be enough to throw you off or to capsize the boat. No matter how skilled you are, the water is cold enough to knock you out quicker than you can regain control.”

 The two of them are silent for a moment before each of them launches into a spell of arguments and rebuttals. Bato sighs and glances over at Hakoda, who seems to have enjoyed his moment out of the hot seat, though his eyebrows are furrowed in thought. He catches Bato’s eyes, and smiles slightly, before looking back at his children, waiting for them to run out of things to say. It takes a minute.

 “If Bato doesn’t think it’s a good idea, then it’s not a good idea,” Hakoda says, with a rare finality that shuts makes the teens huff and grumble, but not argue back. His gaze sweeps over the table, landing on Bato and softening, warming, like a frozen river in the spring. “I trust him. His judgment, I mean.”

 The admission is enough to warm Bato’s face, making him get up and take his dishes outside to wash in the snow, to avoid having to deal with the pounding in his chest. As he leaves, he can hear Hakoda saying, “You      know    we both just care about you two-”

 It storms the next day and when Bato battles his way through the wind and snow to go to Hakoda’s house to do some work with him, he sees Sokka and Katara sitting by the fire, annoyed but safe, and Hakoda looks at Bato like he’s the sun.

 1.

 The two of them barely get a moment alone anymore. Between having Sokka and Katara within arms reach now, and all the work that has to be done has to be approved, has to get      started,    it’s not uncommon to have at least one or two people in the room with them at any given time. Hakoda isn’t so childish as to be upset about this; he’s ecstatic about the fact that he has his children again, that his mother was waiting for him when he returned, and that there are so many willing and eager members of his village that want to help rebuild their strength.

 But he does miss the quiet nights alone with his best friend. Misses the soft, innocent touches that he received when there were no prying eyes. Every time he thinks he’ll get a moment of peace with Bato, a moment to maybe sit down and      talk    and      think    about what they’re doing after all these years, something gets in the way. A proverbial - or sometimes real - fire that needs him to put it out. It would be kind of funny if it wasn’t so frustrating.

 Because, and it’s shocking to admit it to himself, Hakoda      wants    to talk to Bato about the soft, innocent touches they used to share. He wants to talk about the playful, happy loving gaze that Bato looks at him with when he’s found something that Hakoda has done particularly amusing. He wants to talk about it because, as much as he hates to admit it, he feels old, too old to be playing this ‘will they, won’t they’ game that they’ve been playing for years - probably more years than Hakoda wants to admit or have even noticed.

 How ironic, he thinks to himself when he’s awake too late into the night, with only the sounds of his family sleeping peacefully to remind him that he isn’t the only person left alive, that feeling too old is what stopped him from pursuing his friend for so many years, and now it’s what compels him to settle the matter once and for all. For so long, too long, Hakoda felt the weight of his wife’s death, the weight of his children’s lives, the fate of his village, pressing down on him, ageing him down to his bones, and pulling him away from the thought of finding another lover.

 He had a life, he often told himself, a wonderful, happy life, with Kya and Sokka and Katara. It would be selfish, foolish, to ask for a chance at another one, to try and fan the spark in his chest into the burning ember that lived there now. Lovesick pining and pursuits were a young man’s game, a game meant to be played when the stakes were low and an endless war wasn’t raging.

 Of course, Hakoda hadn’t banked on the war ending, certainly not in his and Bato’s lifetime, and with both of them surviving. Nor did he bank on the spark in his chest growing into a constant warm glow. And yet, here he is, survived a war with his family alive, and unable to get a moment’s worth of quiet to try and piece together feelings that he’s      certain    he and his friend have shared for decades.

 Hakoda is so focused on his inner turmoil, that he almost doesn’t notice when he walks into a tent and finds it empty, save for Bato. The taller man looks up from his work, smiles when he sees Hakoda and jerks his head to tell him to come and sit.

 “Where’s everyone?” Hakoda asks, almost wincing at the question. Just like him to look a gift ostrich-horse in the mouth. Bato shrugs and scoots over so that Hakoda can sit on the floor cushion next to him.

 “Some hunting groups went out and decided to show some of the foreign ‘diplomats’ around.” Bato rolls his eyes at the word ‘diplomats’, happy to not have to fake respect that he doesn’t hold. “Everyone else, I think, saw this as an opportunity to relax with their families for a day.”

 Hakoda hums as he sits down next to Bato, all too aware that he’s close enough that he could bump knees with the other man. “What do you think it says about us that we’re here?”

 Bato snorts. “It says that we’re some of the only men that came home and didn’t immediately sire more children.”

 Hakoda lets out a small laugh at that, leans over the chabudai to get a closer look at what Bato is working on. They work in relative silence for a while, Hakoda passing his work over to Bato to be looked over, sometimes commenting on some of Bato’s, both of them trying to make some headway in the mountain of reports, requests, and agreements that need to be looked over and approved. If it wasn’t all necessary, Hakoda doesn’t know how he would stand it all.

 It doesn't mean he has to like it. He groans in exhaustion, leaning over to rest his head on Bato’s shoulder, burying his nose in the soft fabric. Bato lets out a hum in acknowledgment before tilting his head slightly to get a look at Hakoda.

 “Something the matter?” His voice is soft, gentle in a way that it so rarely is, such a departure from his usual deep candour. From this angle, Hakoda can see his face in such fine detail. The dip and deep colour of his lips, chapped and stress-bitten. The fine wrinkles that adorn his face, proof of a life hard and well-lived. The darkness of his hair, slightly wavy and soft, only now starting to get a hint of shining silver in the roots. Hakoda thinks back to Bato as a teenager, his face slender and smooth, hair dark and finely braided before it was shaved, eyes and wit sharp enough to stop anyone from arguing with any of his decisions. It’s almost funny how so much has changed, and yet Hakoda can so clearly see the ghost of their pasts in every detail of Bato.

 “No, nothing is wrong,” Hakoda whispers, finding himself so much closer to Bato’s side than he remembers. He feels the whisper of Bato’s hair brushing his cheek, the warmth of his breath against his nose, and yet he still finds himself leaning closer, can feel Bato tilting his head down to meet him.

 Hakoda feels a soft brush of lips against his own, gentle and shy despite the roughness. For a moment, Hakoda thinks that that might be all there is, before Bato leans down again, pressing himself against Hakoda with more force, more warmth, more      everything    . A hand goes up to cup Bato’s cheek, thumb rubbing the cheekbone gently, and he feels Bato’s slender fingers as they slide through his head, tugging it slightly before it comes to rest behind Hakoda’s skull.

 The kiss is gentle, exploratory, and feels well won, less like a dam bursting open, more like a meadow receiving sunlight after a long, dark winter.

 And like a cold snap, the warmth is gone, and Hakdoa feels Bato pulling away, trying to remove his hand from Hakoda’s hair without hurting, but certainly with a panic that wasn’t there before. He stands up quickly, without looking at Hakoda’s confused and hurt face and starts to leave.

 “Bato,” Hakoda tries to call out, knowing that his friend’s stubbornness will stop him from turning. “Bato, come back-”

 “I don’t want to deal with this right now,” Bato calls over his shoulder, voice a strangled mix of hurt, worry, and regret. “Just. Just let me think.”

 He’s out the door before Hakoda can reply, and he sighs, body slumping against the table. The room already feels colder without Bato by his side, though his heart still beats fast and the flush remains on his cheeks. Everything haunts him. The ghost of the war, of the men that he boarded his ships with who never returned, the ghost of Kya, the ghost of his children who have grown up so much without him. He thinks that the feather-soft feeling of chapped lips against his own, the burning heat of breath on his mouth, the stillness of the air between them; he thinks that feeling with be another ghost that haunts him

 Hakoda remains slumped against the table for a while longer before he finally pulls himself up to return to his home. He looks out at the sky when he leaves, the wind brisk but gentle, the horizon clear. It feels like a shame to waste what will sure be a beautiful night on self-pity.

 +1

 The night sky glitters with stars, shining through the faint layer of cloud, and the tide is gentle, waves batting playfully against the side of the canoe. There’s a chill in the air - standard for this time of the year, this far south - but even after years being home, the years at war have tricked Bato into thinking that warmer weather was the norm.

 A part of him is certain that he’s too old for this, to be rowing a boat so late in the evening, when the wind wants nothing more than to worm its way inside his parking, gnawing at his sore joints, in a way that he knows will be miserable tomorrow morning. He’s too old to have allowed himself to be goaded out onto the water.

 Hakoda turns to look at him and he smiles so brightly that the stars look pale by comparison. Bato can’t help but smile back.

 “I don’t think we’re going to find the glacier,” Hakoda admits, bringing his orr back into the boat, twisting himself so that he sits facing Bato.

 “Of course we’re not,” Bato says, voice as dry as winter winds. He brings his oar into the boat as well, only barely resisting the urge to smack Hakoda with it. “It’s been, what? Twenty? Twenty-five years since we last went out to it?”

 Hakoda huffs crosses his arms across his chest in a way that makes him a perfect mirror of his teenage self (and both his kids, Bato thinks, amused). In a voice that Hakoda would never allow Bato to categorize as a whine, he says, “I know.”

 “Then why drag me out onto the water?” Bato pushes. Hakoda lets out a sigh and looks up at the sky again. His hair falls away from his face, the light highlighting the peaks and valleys of his face. He’s filled back out, now that they aren’t rationing food and being starved, and his strong cheekbones produce graceful shadows across his face. In the moonlight, Bato can only see the faintest hints of the wrinkles, crows' feet, and laugh lines that he’s memorized.

 “I thought it would be nice, you know? To get back out on the water on a night like this.”

 “A night that Kya would have liked?”

 “Yeah.” Bato remains silent, but he too looks up at the sky. There are no shooting stars, no arctic lights in the sky, but it’s beautiful in a way that Kya always appreciated, and above all else, Bato and Hakoda both loved everything that Kya loved.

 Maybe they loved more of what Kya loved than they thought.

 “She would have liked this,” Bato finally chokes out. The wake of the sea feels comforting, like a mother rocking a child to sleep. He sees Hakoda tear his eyes away from the sky to look at him. “We would have had fun on a night like this.”

 Gently, Hakoda brings his hand to Bato’s knee, letting it rest there for a moment. Bato freezes, unsure of what boundaries exist between them now. So many people think that his silence is one of understanding, yet after their kiss, after      everything    , Bato feels nothing but hopeful confusion.

 “Even you?” Hakoda asks. “Would you have had fun too?”

 “I always had fun with you and Kya,” Bato defends, finally bringing his eyes away from the heavens and back to Hakoda. He sees Hakoda’s raised eyebrow and sighs. Almost shyly, like he’s a teenager on his first date again, and not the old man that he is now, he places his hand on top of Hakoda’s. “Yes, Hakoda. I would have had fun.”

 Hakoda smiles. Bato thinks that Kya would have smiled too.

[synnefo-nefeli]

I really love the scene in Heard Your Heart Beating when Apollo and Klavier sleep after drinking and Apollo wakes up at some point and looks at Klavier and thinks about him and Daryan and Kristoph. Idk I really like the vibe of it and also Apollo is really fond of him and you can see it lol

This is for the DVD Commentary Author Ask if there is a scene from any of my works you’d like to see a DVD commentary on, send me an ask!

Yesss this one of my favorite scenes so far in HYHB.

So there are two things going on in this scene- one is a payoff moment when Apollo figures out the significance of Valentine's Day is to Klavier, and the other is the emergence of the theme of " Safety". This chapter also functions as a transition point from Klavier and Apollo moving from work colleagues into a closer friendship. There is still a giddy nervousness at the beginning of this chapter that is usually associated with moving to the next step.

I wanted to express that almost frenetic nervous energy when inviting a new friend/date/etc into your personal space for the first time. And Apollo, despite him stating repeatedly that the hangout is platonic/feeling guilty about appearing to move on from Clay /trying to keep that boundary that’s existed so far between them, allows that boundary to fall.

By the end of the chapter there is now a comfort and deeper trust between them so that their relationship can continue to develope organically over the next few chapters without Apollo being constantly flustered every time Klavier teases him or there still being awkward feelings between them. They’re still in the “getting to know you” phase of their friendship but they’re at the point where coffee breaks and after work drinks no longer suffice. They now want to hang out as much as possible.

More under the cut so I don't spoil people for this chapter

Before I get back into the Safety theme I want to reiterate the meaning of the story’s title. It comes from Florence + The Machine’s song, “Cosmic Love”. The lyric goes:

“ I heard your heart beating, you were in the darkness too-So I stayed in the darkness with you”

This lyric aside from Comic Love being a big mood inspiration for the story, this lyric refers to Klavier and Apollo finding eachother after going through a really shitty and traumatic year and a half.

They recognize that the other is a source of some comfort as each of them understand what the other is going through a little bit better than the others around them.

This scene is the first confirmation to the reader that yes, Klavier is actively seeking out Apollo for comfort.

So far in this story we know *something* is bothering Klavier- he’s actively avoiding someone and he’s been kinda timid in reaching out to people without having his glimmerous persona constantly on. In the following chapter, Klavier mentions that he’s been asked to be in Edgeworth’s wedding.

Apollo attempts to commiserate with Klavier about this as Phoenix has just asked Apollo to be his best man.

Klavier tells Apollo that Apollo shouldn’t be shocked about being asked to be Phoenix’s best man- considering how much Apollo means to Phoenix. He has to point out to Apollo how much Apollo means to Phoenix and Trucy as well as how Apollo impacted Klavier’s choice to return to the legal world full-time.

And while Klavier is honored that he’s been asked by Edgeworth, his being asked is more of a surprise than Apollo being included in the Wright-Edgeworth nuptials. There is no way that Apollo wouldn’t be included after all he’s done for Phoenix and Trucy and how close he is to the WAA. Klavier had a different dynamic with Edgeworth. Part of this because, well, it’s Edgeworth. But Edgeworth has formed close bonds with Gumshoe and Kay...but Edgeworth just spent the last few years chasing down a Phantom Criminal in order to save Simon from Death Row. So Miles and Simon had a closer dynamic.

Klavier unfortunately comes with a lot of baggage-most of it being from things beyond his control. It was his debut that resulted in Miles’ partner from being disbarred and disgraced. There is everything with Kristoph. Combine the canon stuff along with this story establishing that the Gavins and the von Karmas have a bit of a family feud going on, it’s no wonder why Klavier admits to feeling that he’s still needs to figure out if and where he belongs.

He’s always looked up to Phoenix and Miles and wants to spend his career under them, but he thinks he needs more chances to prove himself to rebuild trust.

Of course- the obvious signal Klavier is missing, is “Hi, the Chief Prosecutor has asked you to be in his wedding party. If the grooms didn’t like you, you wouldn’t have been invited let alone asked to be IN THEIR WEDDING PARTY” ...and he misses it right after he’s finished telling Apollo, “how could youthink you’d wouldn’t be included, Herr Forehead. Jeeze.”

Like I said- Klavier is shit at taking his own advice. I’m not being mean to Klavier, but because Klavier is anxious about trusting people and letting people in, he prefers to do things on his own terms and under his control just in case he needs to get out if he gets rejected.

And even though he reached out to Apollo first with his condolences for Clay’s death he didn’t expect anything more than a thank you note, but Apollo not only acknowledging him, hunting him down to his apartment and even offering his company to Klavier, was a happy surprise to someone who has been very lonely.

He’s been wanting to get to know Apollo but he’s felt awkward due to the fallout with Kristoph and the continuing dark age of the law of which he was apart of the two major catalysts.

Apollo over the last few weeks is appearing to be a safe space for Klavier.

However Klavier wants more confirmation and a chance to suss things out (re: Kristoph). So when Apollo says he doesn’t have plans and was oblivious about Valentine’s, Klavier pounces on it. He spent Valentine’s alone the previous year and it spiraled his depression so he was not in the mood to again this year.

This scene was meant to be that very comfortable state between two people with a budding friendship. Once you get drunk with someone while having deep conversations, it tends to push you more into the friendship category.

It was also important to get some of the serious topics out rather than dragging it out. Having this quiet evening is something they both needed, and it allowed them be vulnerable. Especially since Apollo was already upset from the phone conversation he had with the Terrans earlier in the chapter.

Apollo needed a night in with the only person who has never treated him with kid gloves, even before Clay’s death. And Klavier needed a night in with the only person who has never put him on a pedestal.

When discussing Kristoph, it was important to remind the reader that Kristoph is a human being- it’s what makes him a compelling villain and why his betrayal of both Apollo and Klavier’s trust strikes an emotional chord with the player. Before the events of AA4, there was a time where Kristoph gained Apollo and Klavier’s love and loyalty, where he was a normal boss, a dog-dad, a good older brother. There were good times and happy memories- which is why when Kristoph is exposed, Apollo and Klavier are disillusioned- Klavier moreso. But another reason as to why Klavier finds Apollo to be a safe haven, is because, Apollo knew the Kristoph Klavier loved. They both wanted Kristoph to be proud of them. They respected him and wanted Kristoph to be proud of and acknowledge them.

Klavier has been wanting to talk to Apollo about this for awhile and I believe so has Apollo. Apollo is never going to say to Phoenix, “hey Mr. Wright, Mr. Gavin was a good mentor to me too-“ it wouldn’t go over well, even though Kristoph was a good mentor to Apollo-his only flaw was thinking that Apollo would happily be a lickspittle and easy to manipulate. So when Apollo gives Klavier that reassurance that Klavier can talk about those happier moments of his life involving Kristoph, Klavier sees that Apollo wants to take that awkward stress away from Klavier but also Apollo wants to get to know Klavier better.

Klavier is so used to people researching his celebrity persona and forming opinions based off of his former lifestyle, that it’s refreshing to find someone who wants to organically grow their relationship without preconceptions.

Yes, Apollo initially wrote Klavier off as being a fop and glimmorous- but those thoughts were due to Apollo being self-conscious. By the end of Turnabout Serenade, Apollo admits that Klavier is pretty cool and in DD, Apollo remarks that Klavier is different than most prosecutors and how dedicated Klavier is towards his job.

It was also important in this chapter to allow for Apollo to discuss Clay and his relationship with Clay’s family. You’ll notice in this story that Klavier is the only person Apollo will share anecdotes about Clay with and freely grieve about Clay. It’s not that Apollo hides it from The WAA, he does share some things with them, but right now, Klavier is the only close peer Apollo has, and this comfortable vulnerability they’ve trusted eachother with allows Apollo to express himself with out him fearing that he’ll appear fragile. He’s tired of people walking on eggshells around him, but Klavier hasn’t and never will.

Likewise, I made sure to have Klavier fish for information about Apollo. Yes they’ve been hanging out for weeks at this point and worked a case together (sorta), but those coffee dates have been more talking about work, general topics like Trucy’s shows, etc.. they’ve been light in topic. So dinner and drinks at someone’s home gives way to deeper conversations about value-systems, love lives (even though Apollo isn’t entirely truthful lol), etc. And it works really well to the point they get more comfortable than either had anticipated.

I loved writing the discussion about how Klavier will never ever do a performance of “The Guitar’s Serenade” where he’s singing Lamiror’s words. It was such an organic moment while writing too- Klavier just started talking about how he’s feel like an imposter to sing those words because he’s never experienced a lost true love...and he hopes that he’ll never know what that feels like. It’s an honest moment that puts to rest any assumptions Apollo may have had about if Klavier is just a flirt not to be taken seriously in the romance department.

Hearing that Klavier is pretty private in his love life, isn’t a player, and has pretty much admitted that he tries to date with the intention of marriage, shows Apollo more into Klavier’s serious and introspective side. A side that Apollo’s only known in the context of their work. It makes Apollo realize that Klavier is human and is wanting of things like love and companionship. More importantly, Klavier will take those things seriously should he be so lucky to receive them.

There is also a bit of humor here- because c’mon Klavier lives to be playful when he can, and he wants to know more about Apollo’s views on love and relationships. Apollo is adorably flustered because he doesn’t want to admit he’s still a virgin. But in this portion I wanted to start laying down the idea that Apollo is demisexual. Part of the reason he hasn’t fallen in love or felt desire is because he’s fullfilled by his relationships with those he holds dear, but also no one has been interested in Apollo and stayed long enough to bond with Apollo in a way for desire to to bloom.

Because they’re starting as friends-particularly a friendship made as adults- this is going to give Apollo that chance to realize he wants more from Klavier. And for Klavier who wants a true friend and companion after the betrayals he’s suffered, Apollo is a perfect match for him.

The most important thing for me while writing this scene was to show Apollo and the reader that Klavier is suffering and grieving just like Apollo is, (and to establish early that Klavier is super bad at taking any of his own advice) and for Apollo to start drawing parallels to himself while wanting to dig into what’s going on with Klavier.

Apollo is interesting because he’s more likely to say what’s exactly bothering him but fails to realize his feelings about others.

Whereas Klavier is very aware of his own feelings but will hide what’s bothering him from others.

They’re also two people who now need reassurance about where they fit in and how others consider them in their lives.

And if you were wondering: yes, at this point Klavier does have a crush on Apollo haha. So getting invited to sleep over was a bonus for him...despite it being labeled as a “platonic sleep-over”, because at this point in the story, it is a platonic sleep over. Klavier is good at reading the room (even when drunk) to know that Apollo isn’t making a move on him and neither should he.

The comment Klavier makes about Apollo’s bed’s size is a homage to my favorite BL manga, FAKE. In the manga, Ryo who has just started as a detective at a new precinct and met his new partner, Dee- has Dee over that same day for dinner and Dee winds up staying the night. Ryo has a large bed for a single guy (according to Dee) and Dee makes a comment “that’s a big bed you got there, do you have a girl to go with it?” because Dee the little shit that he is, is trying to see if Ryo is single (and yes, they sleep in the same bed that night. How is that fir team building haha...it’s totally platonic. It takes Dee 7 volumes to get that. Please read it it’s a classic). Klavier is totally asking to get a rise out of Apollo because Klavier suspects that Apollo exaggerated his experience because Apollo’s pivot was not smooth at all XD.

Finally the last aspect of showing safety is them sleeping in the same bed together. We know from descriptions of Klavier that Klavier has not been sleeping well. Something is keeping him up at night and his mood has been less glimmerous. When he arrives at Apollo’s that evening; he wasn’t able to really conceal the dark circles under his eyes. Apollo has been missing Clay, who would usually sleep over and share the bed with Apollo,’s company.

Sleeping next to someone, especially falling into a deep sleep in a bed that is not your own, is a sign of trust. Yes they were sleepy from the alcohol, but they went to bed together easily, slept for hours, had brunch, and went BACK to sleep. Neither minded, nor did Klavier feel that he should leave after they ate. They are comfortable and too hungover to even think about anything except getting more sleep XD Also it’s not as if Klavier is in a hurry to get home when he eventually saw the text from his land lady.

Sorry if that was a rambling response but I have a lot of love for this scene in particularly and I’m so excited to give a behind the scenes look at it!

[obscureoperations]

And for the world record of asks, this person is back again. I’m just a huge sucker for your stories, I’m sorry bro 🤧🖤

When you have time and you feel like it why not try doing something like Martin’s s/o is a soldier and she just came home from, as my uncle said it, ‘Nam? So let’s say Martin is really excited since she’d been gone off and on for a couple years and a lot the final year it was all going on. He was getting ready to go to the air port but was working the last couple minutes of his shift. Then like a bus or something pulls up and she gets out and waits for him outside the shop. And he just kinda notices she’s like stoic and shell shocked so he tries his hardest to let her know he’s there and cares about her. I know that’s way too detailed but I’m a romantic fool for war reunitings like that. Also I apologize for the time shift lol. Hope you’re well, don’t feel like you have to write it 🖤

Ohh man, three decades later...

I really loved this ask, I thought it was really sweet<3 but apparently, I have to offer some sort of disclaimer.

I know nothing about war. I never wanted to be a solider. The closest I've got is an uncle who participated. I know nothing about Nam other than the textbooks-- and I'm not making light of anyone that died on either front. Let me just write the thing please... with no disrespect.

~~~~~~~~~~

The sound of your voice was etched into his brain, it was one of the few things that helped him fall asleep. He read the letters every day, the weeks were pretty much a blur. All filler days until Wednesday came and you had the opportunity to call him. There was so much he wanted to tell you, but he had no idea where to start. He just wanted to listen to your voice, you seemed excited at times-- almost exaggeratedly so. He just wanted to hold you. He refused to look at the news. He couldn’t imagine you immersed in such destruction. He only skimmed through the articles in fear that he might find your name in bold print in the very back.

Despite the situation, Martin was extremely proud of you. Your bravery, the sheer commitment to your country. You always said that you were going to enlist... so it didn’t matter whether or not you were drafted. For the longest, he figured you were joking. There was no way he could Imagine you, over there. Surrounded by chaos and destruction--and death. But, you were never more sure of anything in your entire life. He heard all the stories about your father,and his numerous accomplishments and accolades from war. The way your eyes would light up whenever you talked about him. He knew that you were about to live out your dream.

You were extremely serious about your training, you always had been. He was left in awe of your sheer athleticism. Even before you even mentioned your interest in enlisting-- you seemed as though you were preparing for something.

The weeks before your departure flew by in a blur. Each moment seemed to slip through his fingers, he wanted to be around you all the time. He tried to take in every detail, from your smile to the freckles on your cheeks. The way sunlight would bounce off your hair, the feel of your hand holding his. There was only time that he actually broke down, he actually begged you not to go. “We.. we can run off somewhere.. They’d never find you. J-just please don’t leave.” The words just seemed to escape, he instantly regretted them as he buried his face against your neck. He tried to control the sobs, but they continued to roll in wave after wave. So forceful, his voice no longer sounded like his own as his fingers grasp aimlessly at the hem of your shirt.

You weren’t phased...you didn’t yell at him for asking you to put off your dream. You began to rock him, gently as your fingers card through his hair “Sweetheart..it’s alright..It's gonna be alright. I wouldn’t leave if I felt any differently.” More muffled sobs, and you hold him tighter. You could faintly hear him mumble “I’m sorry” “It’s okay.” After a while, something seemed to switch over in his brain, you never lied. There was no way that you would leave him forever. You were going to be alright. He was sure of it. Needless to say he ended up ushering you upstairs, to your room. If Cuda wondered anything about him-- that was just too bad. He was adamant on staring with you for the rest of the night.

~~

He shouldn’t be this nervous.. It was the moment he had been anticipating for years. You had been involved for the duration of the War, the Months home seemed so few and far in between. Every time you returned, he promised himself not to get disillusioned. He enjoyed the moments he had with you--but constantly had to remind himself that it was only temporary. Sure, it sounds like an awful way of living--but he refused to let himself become complacent. He didn’t want to pretend that everything was normal, and you were finally here for good. He clung to you all the tighter--seemingly finding fascination in the little things. He appreciated you so much more. The depth of your kindness,all the little things you did to show him your love.

Martin’s hands flew over the register keys in a flurry of motion. If he kept moving, his hands didn’t seem to shake. His stomach was in knots, heartbeat hammering against his ribs. He could still remember the call from yesterday at two thirty in the afternoon. It was a call directly to the store, somehow the ring didn’t sound the same. For some reason, an image of you flashed through his mind and for a moment he wanted to be sick. That was another recurring change since your departure. He was so afraid to pick up the telephone. He was so scared that someday he’d pick up the phone to be met with a stranger informing him of the worst.

He reaches for the receiver only to be met with an empty dial tone. Someone else must have grabbed it. Knowing Martin’s luck, it was probably Him. He did his best to reduce the line, scanning..bagging items in a frenzy. After a while, Cuda Moved to join him behind the counter, he could feel the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.

The old Man had been alarmingly nice to him for the past few months. It was almost like when you first went away. Martin refused to leave his room, he’d neglect to come down for breakfast or supper. The old man would bang on the door, before slamming down the tray. “Eat! Nosferatu… I will not have you wither away in my house!” In a way your departure, and Martin’s reaction towards it left him actually human in Cuda’s eyes. He must care about the sanctity of human life just a bit. He cared about you. He tried to keep his insults to a minimum.

“Here… take it!” Cuda shoved the receiver into Martin’s hands.

He wanted to be sick… his vision began to blacken. He was expecting to be met with one of the patrol officer’s voices.

“H.. hello?”

“Baby, it’s over!”

It was you… he was so relieved.

“What?”

He could hear loud jeers from the background, muffled laughter as you spoke in the background.

“It’s over.. It’s finally over! I’m coming home on the next flight.”

From the sounds of it, you were at a pub or something, he could hear the jeers from your fellow soldiers. You seemed so overly happy, nearly frantic. He wanted to hold you so badly.

“Okay… When can I see you?” He tries to keep his voice as calm as possible. You weren’t calm in the least, he could already tell. You were simply trying to amp yourself up.. Attempting to sound excited as possible. His heart ached, just imagining everything that you’ve seen.

“Tomorrow.. Honey. Please meet me at the airport.” and with that, you hung up.

He would meet you there.

~

That night passed in a gray and grainy blur. He couldn't sleep, he kept envisioning your face. He continued to hear massive explosions, the sound of brick collapsing over mortar. Children crying as missiles explode. He had this vision of you huddled in a doorway with one of your fellow men clinging to your arm. He could almost feel your tears seeping into his shirt, Please hold me closer. Your eyes were wide and frantic as you search his face for any form of shelter.

You’re alright...y/n.. Everything’s okay. Just come back to me now

~

Once there was finally a lull in the barrage of customers, Martin found himself staring out the window. This was the day, he couldn’t wait till three thirty. He would be at the airport, eagerly awaiting for you to arrive. It must have been a smudge on the glass, or either his mind was really starting to slip. Directly outside, standing under a billboard for Pepsi cola, he saw a lone figure that eerily resembled you.

“No… couldn’t be. It was only half past noon. “

He steps in closer pretending to wipe off the glass--as he peers in through the window. All color seems to drain from his face, pins and needles. It was you. Poised directly outside the shop, at the bus stop- duffel bag resting at your feet. You looked so tired and thin, he could almost see right through you.

You looked incredibly gaunt, the delicate curves of your cheeks replaced with harsh lines and angles.Your head was tilted towards ground, you were fiddling with some small object in your hand. Martin rushes out in an instant, completely ignoring the older woman that stepped into line. Everything seemed to move in slow motion the second he barged out the door.

The cars honked at him as he darts across the street, it was mere seconds until he was at your side. Grasping at your hands. “ Y/n… love, please look at me!”

You seemed to be in a bit of a trance as you continued to fiddle with the object in hand. From the looks of it, it was a small polished stone. Martin really didn't need to know where it came from or from who. He didn’t stop to question it, all he needed was you. The moment your eyes actually met, his arms immediately moved to your waist. You nearly fainted. Whether from shock dehydration or whatever else-- you found your arms draped across his neck. He carried you inside the shop, past the customers--ignoring Cuda’s stare, all the way into the break room.

The old man’s eyes settled on you, and he decided to keep most of his complaints at bay. He was so tired of watching Martin melancholically wither away at the table. You were home now, and hopefully you'd move him out of his sight.

~

Martin rummaged through the coolers to find ice packs to place along your neck. Digging out fresh pieces of steak to soothe your swollen eyes. You could hear Cuda ranting behind the walls--you glance over to Martin fretting over the deep freezer.

“You know that it was you right?” Your voice was barely a whisper. Martin immediately drops the frozen slabs of beef in his hand, as he scrambles close to your side.

“Me what?” His fingers lightly trace over your arms as he nuzzles in close. After everything, he was not going to cry. Not again. You were actually here. The faint smell of your skin… and your shampoo. The way your right hand immediately entangles in his hair. He missed you so much. He began to tell you all the things that he wanted to say, without the restraints of parchment paper.

He wanted to take care of you. Despite your tightly starched uniform, the pins on your collar digging into his cheek, you were exhausted.. To the truest extent of the word.

You were slouched back against the brick, sitting on top of one of Cuda’s deep freezers. The sight alone reminded him of the beginning of your relationship. He wanted to scoop you up into his arms, only to escape through the back window and sprint back to your place.

But instead, he was finally looking at you, in all of your glory, and completely broken at the same time. He continued to hold you, arms draped across your waist as you murmured...

“The memory of your face..Mar-you've got me through so much. I was never gonna leave you."