#her power has limits and i doubt she has enough power in her horn to heal all the heroes and THEN maybe the villains 💀

[gradelstuff]

Something I don't understand about the de-aging Tomura theory is that making him younger = making him "Tenko" again. Because if he supposedly *does* get rewinded, I don't understand how he would lose all his memories as "Tomura". AFO is being rewinded in the manga and he still has all his memories, quirks, etc. He's just physically getting younger and younger. Granted, AFO got rewinded by a refined bullet and not Eri's original power, but Eri briefly rewinded Overhaul and that didn't change ANY of Overhaul's memories either.

I don't even know if Eri's quirk can affect a person's mental state, since her quirk is shown to rewind physical matter only. Its never changed a person's mind like Shinsou's quirk. So I don't understand how rewinding Tomura will get us "Tenko" and not... a de-aged Tomura Shigaraki that still thinks the same way as he did before but now he's stuck in a 5 y/o body lmao

[thesupernaturalhouse]

You mentioned that Emily would be revealed to be a Seraphim in the events of Episode six, though I'm curious how that would pan out. Charlie and Vaggie already knew she's an angel, so while learning just how high ranking she is would be a shock, I doubt it would have NEARLY the ramifications that Charlie learning that Vaggie's a former exorcist in-canon did.

Heaven could try keeping Emily there against her will, but that would be; as one says; extremely stupid and dangerous. Emily is one of the most powerful beings in heaven who now has the... "Moral Flexibility" of a Hell born and a very very good reason to push that flexibility to its limits.

That being said, Heaven could absolutely try to spin the story for their own benefits. Releasing Propaganda claiming that the sinners of hell "Corrupted" Emily; the sweetest and most innocent of the angels; and that the reader could be next to try and justify the exterminations in the eye of the public.

It would be really funny if Emily just snapped and proceeded to chew out the entirety of Heaven's government with a foul enough sailor's tongue to make even Adam blush. But I don't know if you want the reveal to be comedic or purely dramatic.

And to be honest, Vaggie and Charlie would know she's a seraphim. I mean, Emily doesn't have any disguise, so charlie can easily tell what angle she is via her dad/mom

Now, the others' reactions to Emily essentially crashing down into their coffee table looking like an entirely different person is gonna be very interesting

I have thought of Heaven making Emily stay, but as the main story takes place in hell and I have a few scenes I wanna add to ep8's battle, ultimately I think Adam would shove her through it seeing her as 'corrupted' before Sera can fully figure out what to do

As for propoganda....oh 100% the way Emily gets revealed to be heavens Emily is veryyyy interesting and basically serves as a counter point to charlies argument

The summary of it is when revealing vaggie to be an Exorcist fails, and unexpectedly boosts charlies point and starts another argument, Lute notices something familiar about the pink horned demon next to them, I'm thinks Emily's heavily power slowly gets stronger the longer she's in heaven and Lute being Lute, notices but doesn't recognize it until the trial

In which she essentially approaches Emily, grabs her, and rips off the purple pendant, in which her disguise melts away and reveals she's THEIR Emily, essentially says "if they can corrupt a seraphim whose to tell what else these vile demons could do!? How much worse woudk they do to heaven itself"

Something along those lines, I'll tweak it as I plan it out

Also while making it comedic would be very funny, I think I'd go for a more dramatic, sorta vibe. Since Sera hasn't seen Emily in about 5 years and as soon as they fleet again its- with a fight, and she's back to hell

I'd explain what I fully wanna do for ep6 in a diffent psot since this one is getting kinda long lol

[blackjackkent]

Come morning, Lae'zel has That Conversation up and ready, rofl.

"Is it me, or have you been looking at me differently?"

Rakha asks the question calmly as they begin to pack up camp for the morning. She can already guess at plenty of reasons why Lae'zel's attitude towards her as changed. The gith disapproved of what happened to Alfira after all. And it's likely she dislikes Rakha's comfort with Astarion, also.

It's a surprisingly troubling thought. More than anyone else really in the camp, except perhaps Wyll, she has found she wants Lae'zel's good opinion. It has impacted her behavior, her perception of the darker urges that threaten to overwhelm her. It has made her want to be more in control and not succumb to that darkness.

But, no doubt, Lae'zel nevertheless disapproves of her, she thinks, and that bothers her.

She is, however, in fact incorrect.

"I have a confession to make," Lae'zel says, her matter-of-fact tone matching Rakha's. "I was too hasty to judge you. I thought you witless. Gutless. Unimpressively bland."

Rakha blinks slowly. "And what about now?" she asks cautiously. These feel like they should be insults, except for the use of the past tense, which implies something has changed.

A muscle twitches in Lae'zel's jaw and her eyes narrow in sudden attentiveness. "Now, well. You've earned my respect. And more still - you've proven your wits. You are efficient and dominant, in and out of battle. You've proven your courage; I swear, you would tear the horns off one dragon to plunge into another."

Her voice has taken on a deeper, throatier note that is unlike her. "And you're hardly bland. Your scent alone is enough to make my neck sweat and my hairs stand on end."

(A/N: Interesting! This is NOT exactly the dialogue for this scene that she got from Hector! This is not even the dialogue that we got on my stream playthrough with Jayce where we're romancing her intentionally. I'm assuming that this is because Rakha's approval with her is higher, which is actually wild. It's a slightly less blunt approach than Hector and Jayce got, just by a smidgen. Fascinating. I love Lae'zel so much.)

Rakha cocks her head slowly to one side. Hmm.

She cannot recall having a conversation like this before, but the words Lae'zel chooses are, as always, deliberate and easy enough to parse.

Just as Rakha automatically remembered how to position herself for battle, how to see the Weave and call its power into her fingers, so she also has an instinctive understanding of what Lae'zel is talking about. Sex. Desire. Physical hunger, of a sort different from that which the beast calls up. Her body remembers these things, even if her mind does not.

"Hold on," she says slowly. "Are you coming on to me?"

Lae'zel gives an exaggerated sigh. "Isn't it obvious?"

Well, it is now.

Lae'zel fixes her with an attentive glare. "I want to taste you," she says, as crisply as if giving a military order. "Perhaps tonight. Perhaps later. But I want it all the same." Her eyes narrow sharply. "Do you?"

Rakha has to sit and think about this for a moment. In truth, she's intrigued. Lae'zel doesn't seem to be offering this out of any particular sentimentality, and Rakha wouldn't really know how to answer if she was. But physically... hm.

Lae'zel is fierce, almost as violent as Rakha herself, and that shared violence is at the root of any attraction between them. Rakha recalls Lae'zel describing a knife twisting in an enemy's belly with a note of relish in her voice, and perhaps the heat it stoked in her own gut was not only the dark urge in her mind, but something warmer. Her pulse thuds a little harder at the memory.

And Lae'zel is one of the few people she trusts in this strange world, one of the few who has given her advice that has shaped her limited worldview. It bothered her to think that she might have broken that bond; she wishes to cultivate it, nurture it, if it is not already lost. And given the damage Rakha has already wrought, Lae'zel is offering trust in her own right - sex requires vulnerability on both sides.

And most of all, she is curious, as always - hungry for experience to provide new pieces of the puzzle that is the world around her and how she fits into it. For new understanding of herself.

"Yes," she says calmly. "I want to share my body with you."

Unlike Astarion's surprise when Rakha opened her throat to him, Lae'zel seems as if she expected this all along - and she's pleased. "Yes," she says with a slight smirk, folding her arms. "Perhaps one night soon, I will come to your bunk and take what is mine. Until that night comes, I shall keep enjoying your scent."

She turns and walks away without another word. Rakha feels a sort of shiver run up her back that, for once, has nothing to do with the beast in her head - and that, too, is intriguing.

-----

On the road, later, she watches Lae'zel with some curiosity; as she has not in the past, she focuses now on taking in the woman's stance, bearing, physical form. Notes, for later use.

"You said I've earned your respect," she comments out of nowhere as they stop for a midday meal. "So why are you so rude all the time?" It's not a complaint, not even really a demand, just an acknowledgment of confusion.

Lae'zel looks almost embarrassed, eyeing the apple in her hand as if it wronged her somehow. "If you must know," she says, "Vlaakith requires everything of her children. I can't count how many bruises I've inflicted, can't measure how much blood I've drawn in the Undying Queen's name. I know only blood-red and death-black. My mind is silver and my body steel. I am what I must be, say what I must be, to survive every beast I face and every wound I bear."

Rakha nods slowly. Yes, she understands that. It is why the two of them connected, right from the beginning. They say what they mean.

It is, if she is honest, why she felt safe in saying yes.

-----

The night is, in the end, a strange and fumbling business. Lae'zel begins in the dominant mode that Rakha expected - but Rakha has no intention of submitting. It is no more in her nature than Lae'zel's. So it is combat, in its way - the same violence that comes as naturally as breathing to them both.

Lae'zel is quicker and lither than Rakha, more experienced; she knows how to turn the tide with a touch in the right place - or a stinging blow at the right moment. Rakha, meanwhile, has the advantage of sheer weight and bulk, an exhilarating dominance of force rather than cunning. It's yet another struggle for control - but for once that struggle is pleasurable. For once the beast is quiet.

It is not romance - whatever Rakha requires for that, she hasn't found it yet. But it is a strange moment of calm. Almost of peace.

For another night, and for yet another reason, she sleeps soundly.

-----

Narrator: You awake in pain. Your back, your hands, even your tongue ache.

The morning has an icy chill to it; she wakes with the prickle of goosebumps on her flesh. Lae'zel is already up and dressed, standing in the doorway of the small ruin where they hid themselves away.

"It's time to rise," she says crisply. "Dawn is upon us."

Rakha considers trying to articulate any of the chaotic thoughts rolling through her mind. That this was an expression of trust, that she is grateful. That she was curious and the curiosity has now been sated. That they were matched in their violence and it invigorated her. That she enjoyed herself, in an odd way she did not expect. That she is cold in the wake of the night's heat.

But there is no sentimentality here - not from her and not from Lae'zel. Their needs have been met. And now it is over.

"Yes, of course," she says gruffly. "We will leave at first light."

[eleemosynecdoche]

seiga kaku for the asks

Shoe Size:

She lies based on whether she thinks you're into feet or not. I wouldn't dare estimate.

Step In And Handle It:

For a very limited range of "it" (closeted trans women subliminally girlbossing, electrical problems, Christianity), yes. Otherwise, she waits ostentatiously for someone to ask.

Music:

Deep down, underneath the subtle and unsubtle contrarianism, I think Seiga has a wide ability to appreciate and maybe even love music, and would make a hilarious face if you managed to notice this and point it out.

Sex, Romance, Gayness Beyond Classification:

Seiga wants people to believe she fucks the jiangshi. I doubt she does. I think that there's a large degree of performativity in her expressions of sexuality, and that those can be quite frequent. Living up to the image of the wicked hermit as sexual vampire. And maybe she does get something out of sex.

I think calling her "aro" would be a bit of a mistake in terms of rendering that situation a little pat, but I do think she's aromantic in the sense of finding the pleasant sensations of romance in areas not seen as typically romantic.

I think she asked Miko if she could stroke her "ears" after she resurrected, and I am working on a fanfic that should offer a succinct presentation of what her relationship with Yoshika's like. As far as weird gay shit goes.

General Thoughts:

Seiga is a Yukari. She's someone who's really old, has a powerful magical servant associated with her magical tradition and implicitly more lesser ones, has a resentment against the order of the universe, is constantly double-talking while being bluntly clear, has the ability to open and close magical doorways- but she's worse. Both at it and in terms of what she actually does.

Yukari's problem with Ran is that Ran isn't good enough at independent action and thinking on her feet, or wasn't back in CiLR days. (UDoaLG does modify this a little.) Seiga's (instrumental) problem with Yoshika is that Yoshika is basically incapable of independent action beyond standing in one place and attacking people indiscriminately (it was totally counterproductive for her to attack Kogasa in Ten Desires). Seiga's hairpin can open holes in solid walls, which is significantly more limited than gaps, as we can see by her Bugs Bunny escape from the kishin in Wild and Horned Hermit. In terms of sheer craft and technique of supernatural power, she's lesser.

Meanwhile, she's worse at manipulating people than Yukari- she cold-reads all four player characters in TD and fails. She thinks Reimu is a gamer and a hater of youkai and she can get her to attack Byakuren, she thinks Marisa is secure in her power and will be flattered by being called inhuman, she thinks Sanae must be aware of the basic facts of the situation, and she assumes Youmu is some kind of immortal being. The only person she successfully manipulates is Youmu, and only with the aid of Miko making the same mistake and Yuyuko, expert gaslighter, encouraging it. She hasn't developed an understanding of what Yukari has figured out- you need to control the parameters of the situation, and then people's unique features become less confounding.

But maybe she'd have ethical concerns about doing that. Which seems amazing, right? But Seiga's small collection of activities consist of:

-teaching Miko proper Taoist immortality techniques/how to trans her gender

-stalking Reimu and encouraging Marisa to practice Taoism

-propagandizing against Christianity in hilarious ways

-bragging about how her jiangshi are unkillable.

And there's a common thread here- she wants powerful people (powerful women and girlthings, most likely) to practice Taoist immortality and defy the will of heaven, and she dislikes a religion that promotes humility as a virtue, and she thinks making zombies of girls is a good thing in some sense. In other words, she has a degree of altruism and selflessness to her actions wrapped up in conscious, deliberate, and excessive immoral behavior, as against Yukari behaving in a way that benefits a great many people solely for her own convenience.

Seiga sucks so much and I love her for it. I bet this bitch has some incredible depression!

[life-in-the-monster-haus]

Funny thing about neighthan! The only time they appeared in G2 was once during adventures of the ghoul squad. Just as a background character and it was undeniably them! Except… they were a girl. Some people took this and ran with the trans girl neighthan headcanon! How would you feel about this potential being canonised? I feel like it’d be a great example of coming out in steps!

Do you mean this character?

We have no evidence that this character is Neighthan, it's not stated anywhere, she doesn't have a listed name and the Wiki says Neighthan has not been in Monster High canon media since 2014 and Adventures of the Ghoul Squad came out in 2017.

Don't get me wrong! it would be super cool if that's what happened! I would respect G2 a lot if they did that! but the only thing this girl and Neighthan have in common is their species.

Transitioning has the power to change a lot about a person! but it can't change your eye color ( Neighthan's eyes are blue, hers are green) your skin color (She is a lot darker than Neighthan is), your bone color (her horn is purple, his is blue), your height or your hair color (His hair is Black, Yellow & Blue, hers is Navy, Green, Cyan & Purple)

I don't believe this character is Neighthan. She is the same species as Neighthan and since he's a hybrid and I doubt Zombiecorn marriages are common in this universe she might be his sister but her differences are too extreme for me to think she is a post-transition Neighthan. She's a very interesting character and she is very unique for just some backgrounder with her peppermint earrings and rib-cage shirt but I won't give Mattel enough credit to say this is our first trans woman.

That title currently goes to Greta.

But for the record, it would be great if we had a trans woman or trans man that was a regular character on the show and wasn't a very expensive & limited Skullector doll.

[hellsenthero]

Collapse.

Written by: hellsenthero

Bucky X FemReader

@leniram1890 Requested: For the request,i was thinking of Bucky x non avenger reader where reader saved Bucky from falling debris/ heavy object when Bucky unexpectedly is not in his senses that day,

Warnings/Themes: Language, violence, blood, fluff. (1.9K+ Words.)

*Masterlist*

----------

New York was a city filled with possibilities. But Y/N had never thought one of those possibilities was being destroyed and plundered by a secret organization. She didn’t know who was infiltrating the city, but she knew they were bad. Their dark uniforms with a red skull and six tentacles only further proved that. No one that worked for the good of all people would have a skull on their uniform. 

Before the screams of terror began and shots rang through the air Y/N had been sitting in a quaint little cafe at the corner. Sunlight shone in through the full windows, warming her in her seat as she drank her iced coffee. People walked by outside, some racing around in a hurry, others walking slowly, peacefully. She watched them go by her. The occasional loud conversation or honk of a car horn could be heard even inside the coffee shop, but she didn’t mind. It was New York after all, there was never complete silence in the city. 

Y/N had just finished her drink when the terror began. 

It was the people freezing in the middle of the street she noticed first. They all looked towards the same direction, some bringing up their hands to shield their eyes from the sun. Y/N looked to the left, through another window in the cafe, but couldn’t find what had grasped the full attention of the New York citizens. Even the man running towards a yellow taxi in the road stopped and stared off into the distance. The few other customers in the cafe with her got up and looked out the windows. Y/N took the last sip of your coffee before moving towards the window herself, eager for a closer look. That was when the first scream pierced the air. 

---

Bucky was watching a movie Steve suggested to him at the Avengers Compound. It was, one of the classics I’ve been told to catch up on, Steve had said. The movie was called E.T and Bucky could honestly say he liked it. He’d just gotten to the part where the kid was hiding the alien in his closet when an alarm began to blare through the compound. 

Bucky jerked up from his seat and ran from the room. He’d just turned the corner when Steve nearly ran into him. 

“Suit up.” Steve ordered as he passed Bucky, no doubt on his way to find his own uniform. 

It only took Bucky a minute to suit up. The routine second nature to him now. He raced outside towards the Quinjet, finding Steve, Nat, Sam and Tony already in the jet and talking in strained voices. Clint got on the jet a second after Bucky and Wanda and Vision two seconds after him. 

“Great,” Tony clapped his hands together as he went to the front of the ship and began pressing buttons. “Let’s go.”

“What are we responding to?” Bucky asked as he took a seat. Steve turned to face him, a shadow passed over his gaze as their eyes met. 

“Hydra has infiltrated the city. It seems they’re done playing around behind the scenes and have gone for a more...direct approach.” Bucky’s metal fist clenched at his side, his metal plates whirling. “Our goal is to take out as many operatives as you can and protect the citizens.” The team nodded their heads as a collective group. 

From the front of the jet Tony called out to the team, “We’re landing in two minutes.” 

---

Guns fired off like a show of fireworks. Minute after minute, second after second shouts and bangs filled the air. Y/N raced through the street, away from the soldiers in black. Above her a dark jet lowered itself towards the ground. Y/N was only mildly surprised to see the Avengers hop out and begin fighting. 

If Y/N had learned anything from the news then it was that when the Avengers arrive there will always be carnage in their wake. If possible Y/N pushed her legs to run even faster, away from the damage and death raining down on the city. 

She had just turned a corner when a blur of black and silver went flying past her, through the glass window of a furniture shop to her right. A scream tore out of her throat as she came to a halt. 

The building swayed, ready to collapse, and a pained groan sounded from within the structure. Against her better judgment Y/N turned, staring into the building for only a moment, before going inside in an attempt at helping the person inside. 

---

Bucky wasn’t prepared to see so many Hydra soldiers. Men marching in uniforms of black, their red badges standing out like blood against the fabric. Their faces were the worst though. Not all, but many had the dead gaze Bucky knew all too well. The quick, meticulous, almost robotic movements that only came from having their minds wiped. Bucky could taste the burning acid of pain in the back of his throat. He wanted to throw up. 

Steve gave him a hard shove before racing into the destruction. A firm reminder to get his head straight, to start fighting. With a deep breath Bucky shot off his gun, instantly killing a Hydra soldier. 

Bucky didn’t know how long that went on for, the shooting, the killing. It all blurred together. But still, he wasn’t in his right mind. His past memories created a fog in his head. So when a Hydra soldier came up behind him, a gun in hand, Bucky didn’t realize until it was too late. 

Or nearly too late. If it wasn’t for Wanda throwing him through the air with her scarlet power, he would have been dead. The gun aimed directly at his head. As it was he went flying into a building, crashing through glass and wood and structural pillars. 

It was a never ending blur of pain and flying and red and black. 

---

Y/N prayed she wasn’t going into the unstable building only to be met with one of the men attacking the city. She should have turned away, got out, but something pulled her further inside. The structural pillars of the large shop were broken in half. Only one remained standing, the sole pillar holding up the shop. 

Another groan sounded and Y/N called out. “Hello?” Another groan answered her and Y/N went further inside. One eye stayed on the pillar, praying for it to not give out while she was still inside. “Do you ne-” Y/N’s next question was cut off by the sway of the building. Dust and rubble rained down from the ceiling, the loud groans and creaks of the building filled the air. Y/N went to turn around, to head back out into the sunlit, destroyed city, but it was too late. 

The last pillar gave out. 

The ceiling came crashing down. Y/N dove beneath a table, her hands protecting her head, her knees tight to her chest. She thought she heard someone scream a man’s name from outside but it was washed away by the great crashes of the building. 

The first thought in Y/N’s mind when the crashes came to a stop, and the debris settled, was that she was dead. But the pain of rubble pressing down on her quickly reminded her that she wasn’t. That was she was alive and stuck in a collapsed building. 

With another person. 

With a groan Y/N crawled out from beneath the broken table. Blood covered her palms and knees as her limbs scrapped against debris. Dust filled the air like a heavy fog, threatening to choke her. 

“Hello?” Y/N called out as loudly as she could. The groan of pain that answered her seemed to lift an invisible weight off of her. Whoever had gone flying through the glass window only moments ago was still alive. For now. The dust began to settle and Y/N’s vision clearned. Ahead of her she could spot shining silver. It was most likely debris, it certainly couldn’t be a person, but still Y/N crawled towards it. 

---

His mind fogged. He could hear a woman’s voice, calling out, but Bucky could do nothing more than groan in answer. If he made it out of there, wherever he was, he would be having quite the talk with Wanda. 

Debris layed heavy on Bucky, threatening to crush him to death. His movements were painful and limited, but still he tried to escape from beneath the crushing weight. 

Blood dripped from a wound on his head and his ribs screamed in protest as he did his best to crawl out from the rubble. But his best wasn’t enough. His mind was so foggy he didn’t know up from down, left from right, it all blurred together. He was nearly ready to stop his struggle and go to sleep like his mind begged him to do before the voice sounded again. 

Soft, sweet, gentle, it reached his ears and Bucky knew he was going to be okay. 

“Please don’t be dead, please don’t be evil.” Bucky could hear the woman’s voice clearer now. A heavy weight lifted free from his back and Bucky groaned in relief. “Shit, are you okay?” Bucky looked up and was met with beautiful Y/E/C eyes. “That’s dumb, you’re obviously not okay.” The woman said more to herself than to Bucky. Bucky reached out a hand, grasping onto the woman his eyes surveyed her from head to toe. 

“You’re hurt.” He gasped out as his eyes locked on the scarlet blood on her hands. 

“So are you.” The woman answered. 

Bucky smiled. He hadn’t smiled in a long time and he never would have guessed that a strange woman and a collapsed building would do him in, but he smiled. 

“I think I’m supposed to be the one saving people.” Bucky said and he crawled out from the last piece of rubble holding him down. His bearings beame less blurry, his mind focused on the building, the rubble, the woman. Direction began to make sense again. 

The woman smiled right back at him. “Yet here I am, saving you.” 

Bucky must have been in heaven. Dark, bloody, painful heaven, but heaven nonetheless. 

“What’s your name, knight?” Bucky asked as he and the woman worked together to be free of the building. The closer they got to their exit, the more Bucky could hear someone calling his name. No--someone’s. Steve and Wanda. 

“Y/N. Y/N Y/L/N.” The woman answered. “And yours?”

“Bucky. Bucky Barnes.” Finally, they got out of the building. Bucky was met with a relieved Steve and Wanda. The former smiled and gave him a pat on the back, but still Bucky’s gaze remained on Y/N. 

“It’s all over.” Steve told Bucky. 

Bucky didn’t respond back, instead he said to Y/N, “I think you need to be looked at.”

Y/N nodded her head. “I think you’re right.” Bucky smiled and wrapped an arm around Y/N. 

“Come on, I’ll bring you to the jet.”

The pair walked off and Wanda and Steve remained standing outside the ruined building, confused and surprised. 

“What-” Wanda began before Steve cut her off. 

“I don’t know.” Steve mumbled. “I don’t know.” 

[robininthelabyrinth]

Spilled Pearls

- Chapter 18 - ao3 -

“I thought he liked you,” Cangse Sanren said, her hands warm on Lan Qiren’s back as he buried his face into his hands. He didn’t even scold her for it, ignoring all the strictures against too-close interactions between men and women in his misery. “I really did, or else I wouldn’t have encouraged him. I’m sorry.”

Words of apology like that came easily to her lips, unbound as she was by the usual complicated human emotions behind them. It was one of the many traits of hers that Lan Qiren envied.

Having finished her tenure at the Cloud Recesses, Cangse Sanren had been living at the Lotus Pier as a guest of the Jiang sect the past few months, and seemed to be quite happy there. Rumors had already gone around about how she’d been night-hunting with Jiang Fengmian and his retinue, much to the frustration of the third daughter of Meishan Yu, who’d had her heart set on him for ages.

Despite this, Cangse Sanren had still written cheerful letters to Lan Qiren, and he’d written back faithfully, although he’d tried not to bother her too much. He hadn’t actually asked her to return to the Cloud Recesses for his sake – after what had happened in the Nightless City, he’d written up some letters trying to explain that he would be very happy to have her company should it not be an imposition, his hand shaky and his calligraphy ugly in a way it hadn’t been since he was a small child, but he’d thrown them all away. He suspected someone had recovered a discarded draft and sent the message for him, probably Lan Yueheng or something like that, but he wasn’t sure; he hadn’t accepted any visitors since his frenzied flight from the Nightless City, locking himself away in his rooms and refusing to see anyone, even his brother.

Especially his brother.

“He does,” Lan Qiren said, his voice hoarse even though he hadn’t really been using it for much in the past few weeks, brooding over what had happened. “I think – he does.”

That was the worst of it, too. Lan Qiren could no longer deceive himself into thinking that Wen Ruohan saw him as a pawn to manipulate, a piece to play as part of a larger game. Their brotherhood might have started out that way, but at some point Wen Ruohan had actually taken an interest in him – a half-immortal like him, powerful beyond reckoning, thinking that Lan Qiren of all people was as precious as the pearls he’d draped him in.

He’d probably had those supposedly spare Wen sect robes made especially for him, too, just as an excuse to see him wearing them; Lan Qiren hadn’t put it together at the time, blinded as he was by the new and exciting feeling of closeness and affection, but in retrospect it had been obvious. Wen Ruohan himself admitted that he longed to possess things that he liked, that his instincts tended towards domination, and even based on their limited acquaintance, Lan Qiren knew that it would be just like Wen Ruohan to manufacture a situation just to see what Lan Qiren looked like wearing his colors.

No: Wen Ruohan sincerely liked Lan Qiren. He liked him a lot.

And he was, without a doubt, a terrible person.

Lan Qiren lived his life by the Lan sect rules. He might only be nineteen years old, two generations junior to Wen Ruohan, but he had at his disposal the wisdom of generations.

There were dozens of rules about what you were supposed to do, how you were supposed to conduct yourself – you were supposed to love the world and strive to fill it with good deeds, to uphold justice and shoulder morality, to be chivalrous and filial and virtuous, to live a life with integrity.

Do not associate with evil.

Wen Ruohan had told him, all that time ago, hadn’t he? It had been one of the first things he’d said to Lan Qiren, stay away from bad men. He’d meant himself then, and he’d been right, too.

It had been Lan Qiren who hadn’t listened.

“I liked him, too,” he said nonsensically, and put his head back down.

“I know,” she said. Cangse Sanren’s voice was not given to gentleness – he’d once scathingly compared it to a horn’s blast, loud and blaring, and she had laughed in delight – but for all her loudness she was also capable of great kindness. “I know, Qiren-gege, I know. You wouldn’t care so much if you didn’t.”

“…I don’t have many friends.”

“I know.”

“I don’t – I don’t need– he’s supposed to be my brother –”

“You have bad luck with brothers, I think,” she said, trying to be a little tactful and largely failing, and Lan Qiren felt himself awash with misery once more. She wasn’t wrong. Lan Qiren clearly had the ability to make friends – Cangse Sanren, for one, or Lan Yueheng and some others like him, even Lao Nie – but clearly he’d no luck when it came to anything more than that.

His blood brother despised him, and his sworn brother, who cared for him, was an evil man who by all rights he ought to avoid. What else could that be but the worst of luck?

“At least you found out early on,” Cangse Sanren said, moving straight back into the practical. She’d long ago admitted that she wasn’t very good with feelings of sadness, preferring to spend her life in joy no matter how difficult. “It would have been worse if it was later.”

“Would it?” Lan Qiren asked. He wasn’t so sure. “I’d have had more grounds to argue with him if I’d known him better.”

“Of course you’d think first of reforming him,” she sighed.

Lan Qiren shrugged. “Liberate, then suppress, and only as a last resort eliminate.”

“That’s for ghosts, Qiren-gege.”

“Most types of resentful energy, actually.” He tried to scrub at his eyes, which were tearing up again. “Most types of evil. And he – he is, isn’t he?”

“I mean, I’d have to do some digging before reaching a firm conclusion, I try not to judge these things second-hand, but based on what you described as seeing in the Fire Palace…probably.” She shook her head. “Even if they were wrongdoers, they ought to be punished according to their crime, or even executed. There’s no call for something on the order of what you described.”

“Maybe it’s different in the Wen sect,” Lan Qiren said, not really meaning it. “They might have different standards – there are punishments we enact that other sects might consider torturous, I suppose. The Jiang sect, for instance, punishes minor offenses only with kneeling, and disapproves of using the discipline rod… Anyway, it’s not - it’s not like it was hidden or anything, like it would be if they thought it shameful. The rumors all said that he was bloodthirsty and fond of torture; everyone knows, and for some reason I’m the only one who seems to mind.”

“Most people didn’t have to see Sect Leader Wen watching it like a particularly good dance routine at a brothel,” Cangse Sanren retorted, and Lan Qiren gagged at the thought. “Anyway, I still think it’s good that you figured out that he was trash before you got in too deep.”

“He’s not trash,” Lan Qiren objected, and she gave him an incredulous look. “He’s not! He’s not – he doesn’t have to stop. He’s a sect leader; he has complete dominion within his territory. His territory is the most expansive of all the Great Sects, he’s the most personally powerful of all the sect leaders…he can do as he likes, and I can’t do anything about it. If anything, I was in the wrong for profaning his hospitality by – by –”

“By putting those people out of their misery?”

“…that,” Lan Qiren said, and felt sick again.

“Don’t be ridiculous. You were entirely in the right! You should always stand up for morality, no matter the circumstance…” Cangse Sanren scowled. “Hold up, are you saying you’d considering making up with him?”

Lan Qiren sighed and scrubbed at his face.

“Qiren-gege!”

“He’s my sworn brother,” Lan Qiren said. “I swore an oath.”

Loyalty and fidelity - all those clauses about not being betrayed. He’d promised.

“That’s ridiculous,” Cangse Sanren argued. “So what if you swore an oath? So did he!”

“He swore to guide me, I swore to follow; it’s not the same.”

“He still has to be a good role model –”

“Maybe in his view he is.”

“Absurd. What utter trash!”

“It’s still an oath, Cangse Sanren!”

“Marriage is an oath, too, and they still invented divorce,” she said, scowling. Cangse Sanren had never met the word ‘no’ and liked it; it wasn’t in her character. “You can’t just let him go on like that, breaking your heart!”

“I wouldn’t call it –”

Cangse Sanren gave him a look, and Lan Qiren closed his mouth.

He supposed it was a bit like that.

“I thought it would work out, that’s all,” he said finally, somehow managing to talk around the lump of misery in his chest. “As something more than – what I have already.”

He’d spent years in denial and privately blaming himself, his awkwardness and his failures and his poor potential, for the poor state of his relationship with his brother, but then it turned out that who he was was enough to make someone like Sect Leader Wen, who had no pity and no sympathy and no natural fondness of other people, like him, so maybe in the end it wasn’t him.

Maybe it was only as Cangse Sanren had said: that he had poor luck in brothers.

“Just that?” she asked, and sounded curious. He looked at her in question, not understanding what she meant. “I mean, I don’t know. You were in the Nightless City for a whole week, unsupervised and clearly getting your feet swept out from under you by the charming and dashing Sect Leader Wen – did he really not try anything?”

“Try anything – Cangse Sanren! I already told you, it’s Lao Nie he likes like that.” He frowned. “At least, I think he does? No, I’m sure of it. Lao Nie calls him Hanhan, and Sect Leader Wen lets him; they must be – close. And Lao Nie’s proud of how undiscriminating he is.”

“Yes, I’m pretty sure Lao Nie lost half his interest in me when he realized I didn’t have a spare set of teeth somewhere awkward,” Cangse Sanren agreed, rolling her eyes. She’d spent a short time at the Unclean Realm, too. “Are you sure? I would’ve sworn…well, anyway, who cares about him? What about you? Did youlike Wen Ruohan like that?”

Lan Qiren grimaced. “I’ve never been good at that,” he demurred, and it was true.

At nineteen, by the standards of the Great Sects, he was generally considered a little too young to marry, and wouldn’t have been expected to – but plenty of young men his age and much younger were mooning over women left and right, and he’d never done that. He wanted a wife, of course, the way that he wanted to be an adult and to go traveling and to be a teacher, a sort of distant far-off future plan; he’d always been attracted by the idea of having a companion to share joys and sorrows with, but he’d never seen the appeal of soft curves or a pretty face the way all his peers seemed to instinctively understand. He hadn’t worried, thinking that desire was something that would come with time, although as he got older he started to worry that he’d perhaps missed the optimal period for it to happen. Even Cangse Sanren, who he liked a great deal – he didn’t think of her that way, not even when she’d admitted that she liked him.

“I know that,” she said, nudging him playfully. “I just thought you might be a cutsleeve, that’s all.”

“I don’t think so? I mean, I don’t know,” he said, and sighed. “I thought about it for a while, you know, after our last discussion on the subject. It’s not that it’s not accepted – I mean, it’s not popular, but it’s not forbidden, either, and there’s plenty of precedent for people in the Lan sect with those sorts of interests. But when I went to look at the spring books in the library –”

“You snuck a peek? Qiren-gege! How daring!”

“Be quiet. It’s a time-honored Lan sect tradition; if peeking weren’t encouraged, the books would be locked away in the forbidden section rather than just placed on an awkwardly high shelf.”

She giggled, and her endless good humor cheered him up a little.

“Anyway,” he said. “I looked it over, but it still just seemed like – I don’t know. Too much trouble.”

Cangse Sanren found that hilarious for some reason.

“Maybe it’s just the bedding you think is stupid?” she finally asked after getting the laughter out of her system and making a completely unnecessary hand gesture in case he didn’t understand that she meant sex instead of actual bedding. “It’s pretty stupid, I’m not going to lie.”

Lan Qiren gave her a sharp look. “You’re not married.”

“Don’t change the subject! Would you like a wife – or a husband, I suppose – if you didn’t have to sleep with them?”

“I wouldn’t ask that of someone,” Lan Qiren objected. “It’s a fundamental aspect of it, isn’t it? Anyway, I don’t – it’s not that – there’s nothing wrong with it in principle, I don’t mean to judge others – only – listen, it’s just troublesome, that’s all, and I don’t especially want to – Why are we even talking about this, anyway?”

Cangse Sanren laughed at him again.

“Regarding Sect Leader Wen, I have no grounds to object to his actions, so I won’t,” Lan Qiren decided, returning to their original subject, which although miserable was far less humiliating. “But I don’t have to pretend like I like it, either. Don’t associate with evil.”

“He’s your sworn brother,” Cangse Sanren reminded him, as if he’d somehow managed to forget. “If you’re not willing to be forsworn, how can you avoid him?”

“I’ll figure it out,” he said with a sigh. “It’s just a disappointment, that’s all. I’ll accept it, the way I’ve accepted all the others.”

She pressed her lips together, clearly unhappy. “One day that’s not going to be enough,” she finally said. “One day, you’ll run into a disappointment that’s so great that it’ll swallow you up.”

Lan Qiren opened his mouth to argue, then closed it. It was said that those who left Baoshan Sanren’s mountain were doomed, their longing to join humanity bringing down a sad fate onto their heads, though it was unclear if they would all go mad and evil the way her first disciple had all those years ago or if they would just die unhappily. What could he say against that?

“I’ll deal with that when it comes, I suppose,” he said, and felt uncomfortably like he had seen some trace of the heavens’ design that he shouldn’t have. “I don’t want to think about it anymore. Tell me about you.”

“About me?”

“How are you enjoying the Lotus Pier? And how do you – uh – that is –”

“Know enough to have an opinion about what people do in bed?” she said, her eyes curving into crescents as she grinned. “Well. Let me tell you all about that, since the two answers are the same. There’s this absolutely darling man in the Lotus Pier, very funny, by the name of Wei Changze –”

“Wei Changze? Not Jiang Fengmian?”

Cangse Sanren winked at him. “Rules against gossip, Qiren-gege!”

“It’s not gossip if it’s news!” he defended himself, though in all honesty it was probably mostly just gossip. “I wanted to know how you were doing!”

“And I’m glad of it! Let me tell you all about the ridiculous love triangle I’ve found myself in –”

It’s not gossip if it’s news, Lan Qiren reminded himself even as he settled in to listen. He put away all thoughts of Wen Ruohan for the moment, and thought that it was all for the best. There was nothing he could do about it, after all.

The facts were what they were: Wen Ruohan was his sworn brother; Wen Ruohan liked Lan Qiren, and Lan Qiren liked him in return; Wen Ruohan was an evil man who enjoyed causing pain.

Lan Qiren would just have to find a way to live with that.

[thenextchapter22]

Virgin No More

Description: Reader is a virgin and masturbates a ton. The boys tease her and then Asmodeus fucks her and makes her not a virgin anymore

Warnings: NSFW, Squirting, Vaginal Sex, Vaginal Fingering, First Time Sex, Masturbation, Cunnilingus

Pairing(s): Asmodeus/Reader

Word Count: 8,004

Link to my AO3: Click Here

Author’s Notes: I really hope you enjoy this, I had tons of fun writing it :)

_+_

There was nothing like waking up horny after having wonderful dreams and vigorously masturbating. You couldn’t help yourself, living with 7 incredibly handsome demons did things to your virgin body that just hadn’t ever happened before. Imaging Lucifer’s dark red eyes above you or his velvet voice urging you to be a good girl, or Asmodeus’ charm actually working on you and having him touch you all over and do the same back to him. Or, one of your favorite dreams, Beel and Belphie fucking you together, but this one started out with Beel licking your pussy and getting you wet and prepared for their cocks.

You gasped, flicking over your clit just imagining it again. The sheets were sticking to you as you touched your body in all the ways you liked to be touched as a thin gleam of sweat covered your body from the excitement. Softly you rubbed over your labia with your middle and index finger, circling, then they entered your vagina with a wet squelch. Using your thumb to press your clitoris as you stretched your inner walls you plunged as deep as you could go. Fuck it felt so good. You pictured it was Satan above you, his demanding voice telling you to go deeper and deeper. As your other hand gripped the edge of the bed you lifted your back off it and rocked your hips into your hand.

You couldn’t remember the last day you hadn’t touched yourself. It was about a week ago or more. Your finger was probably useless in the future for anything like finger prints because you had definitely rubbed your clit one too many times.

Back arching as you reached your limit, you shut your eyes, picturing Lucifer looming above you, commanding you to cum with his wings and horns on show, magic rippling around the both of you. Tremors overcame you, lights dancing in your tightly closed eyes, and your body rocked out the orgasm until you fell on to the bed, fully sated.

“Fuck yes,” you sighed, taking your hand out from under the sheets. It was sticky from your own fluids, and so was the bedding. You were a squirter and really should have put a towel down but oh well.

It was time to get ready for the day now. You got dressed in a comfortable pair of black leggings and a soft flowing short-sleeved blue blouse with flowers. Then you curled your hair just so it had some shape and put in some stud earrings and some light make up, blush and lip stick and eye liner with soft pink eye shadow and minimal mascara. Finally a pair of flats to wear for the day.

There was not school for two days so you happily strolled to breakfast, ready to eat whatever Beel made as it was his turn. He always thought of you and made really good human food. The others tried, but he did the best out of all of them.

The atmosphere was bright in the dining room and as soon as you came in they all greeted you with good mornings. You said the same back and took your seat between Mammon and Leviathan, excited to see pancakes and bacon and jams alongside their own types of breakfast foods.

The only one not in the room was Belphie. As you said this, he came in, taking a seat beside his twin opposite you and Mammon. It was the typical seating arrangement, but usually you took whatever seat was open, and Mammon was pretty upset whenever you didn’t sit by him at breakfast so you made sure to do it often.

Belphegor looked at you and you waited for his good morning that always came in a yawn, but then he said something else entirely. “Could you please stop doing that so often? It’s been days and I can’t get any sleep with your pheromones lurking in the halls so damned early,” Belphie complained. He put his head down on the table atop his pillow, and shut his eyes.

You turned bright red, and you dropped your fork to the plate of pancakes. It clattered and the sound echoed the room. “W-what?”

Satan snickered at you childishly from where he sat beside Levi. “What he meant was your masturbation marathon, kitten. We’ve been wondering when it will end.”

“Yeah, it’s been hard on me too!” Asmo said with a pout, between Belphie and Lucifer at the head of the table. “I love the smell and it makes me feel amazing and super refreshed but goodness you really need to get fucked, my dear. A good dick will make all the difference, how about it?”

Mammon hollered at Asmo while you sat there, in shock. The white-haired demon slammed his hands on the table and screamed across the long table, looking at Satan and Asmo as he screamed. “Hey, stop it! Enough talk about dick! She doesn’t deserve this, okay?! Fuck you all!”

Levi was bright red beside him. “Y-yeah! Th-th-this is not something we should be talking about!”

You vaguely noticed Lucifer as he nodded twice. He stared down the three demons responsible, and said, “Yes, I agree. This is not appropriate talk during breakfast. It will cease now.”

“Whatever.” Bephie rolled his eyes, and Beel looked at him very disappointedly.

Your chest ached. Your eyes burned. Before you knew it, you were gone from the table. Everyone was shouting at you, but you ignored them all as you ran to an empty room. It held a couple chairs and a couch as well as an empty fireplace, but not much else. You turned on the lights and stood there, facing away from the doorway to stare at the brick wall.

There was no school today. It was Saturday. You had planned on studying with Satan but now…

You sobbed into your arms, embarrassed and upset and feeling dirty. You really should have known that living in a house with literal demons that had heightened senses would mean they could sense your personal activities. But it hurt how they teased you. That could have been handled better. You were only human and had needs, too, and they should have understood how it would feel to be called out on touching yourself like that. Stupid Belphie, stupid Satan, stupid Asmo. You hated them.

The door was opened behind you. You turned sharply, and saw Asmo come in, shutting the door behind him.

“What?” you asked. “Come to make fun of me?”

Asmo shook his head, seeming pitiful in his stance. “My dear, we were only teasing,” he said with apologetic eyes. “It’s a natural thing to do and we didn’t mean any harm by what we said to you.”

You sniffled and wiped over your face which was no doubt red and splotchy. “You didn’t ha-have to be so rude about it. I’m sorry for being innocent, okay? It’s not like anyone would want… me…” you said, gesturing to your body.

Asmo gasped. “Love, you are so wrong about that. I want you every day.” He stepped closer, backing you up in the room. His eyes roamed over your body that still trembled from being verbally harassed. “I want you so badly, I’ve made that clear, have I not? And hearing you each morning and night experience such pleasure at your own hands makes me want to give you even more with my own.”

You inhaled sharply, face burning red. “A-Asmo!”

He grinned like a shark, eyes flashing with lustful power. “Oh how I wish I could charm you, my dear, then you would truly see. But alas, I will just have to show you in other ways how much I want you.”

“I-I don’t…”

“Shhh,” he said, finally backing you up into the wall, and you hit it with a gasp and a grunt. His arms surrounded you, and he wasn’t as tall as Beel but he still leaned down to look you in the eyes. “Let me take care of you, please your lovely body. Can I do that… for you?”

You stared at him, his luscious lips, his burning desire-filed eyes. You felt his warmth and smelt his cologne, fruity and delicate. This was like a fantasy. Were you dreaming?

“Well, my darling?” he asked, hot breath burning your cheek. His lips brushed ever so on your face. “Can I touch you, can I feel your beautiful body against mine? Will you allow me to give you great pleasure?”

You whimpered, almost falling down the wall. He giggled and caught you in his arms, holding you up by an arm around your waist. Your head was down, so he titled it up with one long elegant finger beneath your chin, and his face was inches away, eyes looking intently at you.

“So delicate. But I can only guess, not as innocent as others may think, am I right?” You were going to shake your head, but he grabbed your chin in between his fingers and said, “Well? I’m not letting you go until I get an answer…” Asmo tapped gently at your lips with his manicured index finger. “I’m not so patient, my dear.”

You thought. And thought and thought and thought. This should be easy right? Just say yes, and Asmo, the Lust avatar, would make you feel amazing of course. He was the embodiment of pleasure. Narcissistic, but still he had to make his lovers feel great, otherwise they would not come back to him nor would he have so many admirers. And your dreams of his touch, his naked figure on top your own, lithe and powerful and gorgeous, was no longer just that. He was going to make dreams reality. He was going to make you feel good.

You were a virgin, but not an idiot.

So it was easy after all to say, “Yes.”

Asmodeus grinned again. “Well well, then, my darling little virgin. Let’s play, shall we?”

You took the hand he offered, and he led you away to his room. He kissed your hand as he felt it shake and his smile softened. “Don’t worry your pretty little human head. I’ll take good care of you! Oh, were going to have so much fun!”

You knew he meant that. Asmo was never anything but kind to you (when you didn’t count the beginning of your stay when mostly all of the demon brothers hated you, until you proved to them you were not some weak human and could get through almost anything, even death).

“Come inside my room, little lamb,” he said, tugging you into his room. He shut the door, and caged you in his arms with a hug, rocking you back and forth like soothing an upset child. It was sudden, but not unwanted. He obviously could sense your nervousness.

You relaxed into it, and he stroked your locks. His hands were warm and comforting as they circled down your back and up again, and he hummed a nonchalant tune in your ear. Then, he plucked off your bra like it was nothing, and you gasped and froze in his grip as it was flung across the room behind you both.

He just laughed in your ear. “I am very skilled at that.”

“Yeah, I can see,” you said in shock.

He laughed again. His hands gripped your upper arms and he looked at you. “Let’s see… how about we get you more comfortable, yes? Into my closet! I’ve got just the thing!”

You, once again, were tugged along. His closet was… an entire bedroom basically, shelfs and rows of clothes and shoes and coats and scarfs. “Wow.” It was like a rich woman’s room. So many colors and textures. Your fingers ran over the clothes as Asmo dragged you deeper into the fabric tunnel.

“Here we are!” He let go of you only to grab you once again. “Change into this, and I’ll be waiting for you.” He winked as he dropped some stuff in your hands. “It makes it more fun!” and he stepped away, back out of the closet.

You stood there, dumfounded. The clothes you were given were… not many at all. It was a dress, stockings, and wow that was a very thin pair of underwear. String, honestly. You sighed, but nodded. You could do this. This was everything you had ever wanted and more. Gather some courage and if you did that, you would no longer be a virgin. Getting fucked by the Avatar of Lust as your first time was honestly pretty unbelievable.

“Okay, yes, I can do this,” you mumbled as you started stripping your clothes off. Just thinking that Asmo was waiting for you to come out in the clothes he picked made you start to feel hot.

Eventually you stood in only your panties as he had already taken off your bra. Then, off with the underwear you wore, simply colored light blue with little white flowers. You slipped on the thin gown, it barely reached the edge of your ass. It was a white lace baby doll with a sheer lace neckline with a scalloped trim. Thin spaghetti straps with a satin waist tie with bow accent. You did like the bow, because you loved anything with a bow. You also liked the bottom of the skirt where flower patterns in lace traveled up just enough to hide the sheerness of the rest of the gown. There was also a matching white thong to go with it and you put that on, feeling the string of it slip between your folds and your ass cheeks.

Honestly, you had no idea why he wanted you to change clothing. Maybe because Asmo wanted to dress you up like he always did. Or, you thought more deeply, he finally had the chance to see you in sluttier and sexier clothing, and that he would have the chance to take it off of you.

You felt really good in this outfit, actually. Sexy and soft, a bit cold but that was fine. You felt yourself over with your hands, nerves tingling as your fingers ran across your nipples and down to your hips over the soft fabric.

Taking a deep breath, you readied yourself. It was time to show him your new look.

You came out of the closet, shy and head bowed. You held an arm across your chest and used one hand to pull the bottom of the nightie down. Standing at the edge of the closet entrance you waited for him to say something.

“Ahh, a beautiful angel is in my room. I can’t wait to defile her~”

Your face flushed deep red at his words. “A-asmo, I—” And you looked up then to see him sitting on his bed now. He lounged back against his plethora of pillows. He had changed into a new outfit, one that was sans a shirt and only skin tight black pants. His legs spread wide, one leg propped up with his arm hanging over it.

He smirked at you, and used a long finger to curl towards himself, inviting you over. He tilted his head and licked his lips. “Why don’t you put on a show for me, hmm?”

“A-a show?”

He nodded, giggling. “Dance, shimmy your hips, but do it seductively.”

“You’re teasing me again,” you whined, pushing your legs together. You felt the thong rub your labia and become damp.

He moaned, and the sound went right to your core. “Yes, but it makes you feel good, doesn’t it?”

You slowly nodded your head in response. Because he was right. Your pussy was leaking, and the thin piece of cloth pressed up against your clit and it felt so good. Squeezing together your thighs as subtly as you could, you held back a whimper.

“Don’t hide your sounds from me,” he said knowingly. “I want to hear them all from those pretty lips!”

You walked closer to him, until you stood at the edge of his bed. You didn’t know what to do, so you just stood there, biting your lip. You were so unsure of what to do and what to say. Having fantasies and dreams were different, you could do whatever you wanted and didn’t have to feel so embarrassed about it. Not like you had control in your dreams, but still.

Asmo sighed. “All right, my sweet, come here,” he cooed, opening his arms for you. “Let me hold you, I want to feel you in my arms in that sexy little number.”

You crawled on the bed, forever red in the face, and he watched every inch of you as you did. Hands and knees, careful not to let your breasts fall loose by sticking your belly downward and thus sticking your ass up. He pulled you into his chest, your face pressed into the crevasse of his shoulder and neck while your arms snuck over his shoulders. He smelled so good it made you feel even hotter. Your breasts pushed against his abs, and your stiff nipples hidden beneath thin material rubbed against his hard bare chest. You couldn’t stop yourself from exhaling heatedly on his skin.

“You look so beautiful, baby. I’m so glad to have you in my embrace.”

His hand came to rest over the swell of your ass, the other wandering around your inner thigh. Being bare all aside from the thong made you feel dirty and fantastic. You shimmed a bit, and he made a happy sound. His fingers pulled the string like a rubber band to snap, and you cried out from the yanking it did to your pussy.

His smooth voice moaned into your ear, fingers on your thigh scratching a bit, causing you to grit your teeth from the painful pleasure. “I want to get my fingers inside of you, make you suck them clean of your own juices. You’re leaking all over, my dear.”

You sobbed into his shoulder. “Please,” you begged.

“Hnnn, yes, beg for me more, I want to hear you.”

“Can I—” and you stopped yourself, embarrassed to ask.

He stroked your hair back, kissed your temple. “No, no, don’t hide what you want. I’m here to make you feel good and I want you to tell me what that is. What do you want, just tell me, darling, and I’ll provide.”

You shivered. “Can you kiss me?”

He said nothing to it, only maneuvering the both of you until you sat on your knees in front of him. His hand rested on your lower back, soothing thumb rubbing in circles on the small of it. Looking at him from beneath thick lashes, you waited.

“Darling,” he whispered, reaching to cup your cheek. He kissed like you were a delicate flower, and you were. His tongue never came into play surprisingly. He played with your lips like he was eating a slice of an orange, suckling your bottom into his mouth and moaning like he got all the right flavors out. His hand held your face still, and you leaned as far in as you could, eyes closed softly, head tilted upward to meet him. It was slow and gentle and sweet, his lips melding seamlessly with yours.

“So perfect for me,” he murmured, thumb stroking your cheekbone. “I want to devour you.”

You looked at him, feeling debauched from just a simple kiss, while he looked the same, a hint of red to his cheeks and shine to his lips. Yours no doubt had the same shine and you licked them, feeling wetness.

“Then do it,” you said with false bravado.

He chuckled almost darkly. “Am I already corrupting you?” he teased.

“Maybe you are,” you said back.

He kissed you again, a soft peck of lips. “I want to kiss you everywhere.” He wasn’t soft then, his hands reaching to cup your tits. You moaned and pushed up into them, almost gifting your breasts to him. He squeezed them, and thumbed your nipples.

“Ah-hhaa,” you exhaled, cheeks reddening and lashes fluttering. You rocked forward, pleasuring yourself with the motion, squeezing your ass cheeks to tighten the string against you. Your thighs were together to hide what would be your pussy bare for him to see.

“Are you making yourself feel good?” he cooed, pinching your nipples and tugging. You gasped, jaw dropping. “I see your hips moving, my dear. I think you should rock against something more… sturdy.”

He lifted you up around your waist, and you squealed in shock, while he simply laughed. You were put on his extended leg on your knees, then, and your pussy was pressed directly onto it. It was a pressure so sudden and wonderful. Your head shot back and your hands gripped the bedding on either side of you in tight curled hands. “Ahh~”

He held your hips, and strongly, too. His fingers encasing either side of you and he shoved his leg up to put more force against you. “Such a gorgeous site, you pleasuring yourself on me.”

You shook your head, overwhelmed, breathing heavily. “Asmo, please, let me—”

“Let you what?” he asked innocently, head titled.

Move, you wanted to say. But he held you still, and just looked at you in glee. Your pussy throbbed on his leg and you wondered if he could feel it through his thin tight pants.

“Do you want to move against me, use me like a toy?”

“Yes, yes, I do!”

He let you go, and you moved immediately. Unashamed and needy. Motions of back and forth, occasional side to side, circles then. Chasing the shocks of pleasure brought to your clit and labia.

“Look at you go. Does it feel so good?” He wiggled his leg, and you cried out. “I love watching you let loose, this is an entirely different side of you I completely adore~”

You weren’t paying attention, lost in the pleasure. Having him watch you use him to feel the occasional brush against your clit was extremely arousing. The embarrassment of it turned you on, too. He was feeling you up while you rocked on him. His fingers trailing over your upper arms, into the dip of your neck. Goosebumps arose where he left phantom touches.

“Asmo, I-I want, I need to—” you exhaled through your nose, teeth grit and lips pushed out in concentration.

“I know, you want to cum so badly, don’t you?” he whined sympathetically.

You nodded and agreed, “yeah...”

“Well, I won’t stop you, my dear.”

And you let go, pressing hard down against his pant leg and shimmying your hips to ignite that fire in your belly. Your head tossed back so far your neck ached as you came with a jolt, moaning deeply. Clit pulsating, pussy clenching around nothing but a thin string. Knowing he was watching you, letting you complete the sparking pleasure by keeping still, simply holding your hips while you rode him like a cowgirl would a bull, there was no way to describe the desire you felt.

You panted, relaxing your body and head once the fire simmered down. Slumped almost, tired from the loud orgasm you just had. You swallowed hard, and exhaled, feeling sweat built on your body cooling from the exertion of chasing your completion.

Asmo hummed, stroking his fingers over your burning cheeks. “You got my pants soaked, lovely.”

“S-sorry…”

“It’s all right. I didn’t think you’d be such a… leaker…” he winked.

“Hnng, please….” He was so embarrassing. Your body was spent, but it was as if you knew this wasn’t the end because you were just waiting for him to do more, and he waited for you to come down fully from the high.

He carefully lifted you up to set you between his legs. You whimpered at the motion, any movement causing stinging pleasure to spark down below. “I think you should get naked, what do you say?”

You whined. Just as you guessed. Well, he did say he was going to fuck you, and that was definitely not fucking. You basically used him like a dog would, and it made your insides burn, like an ember wanting to burst into a new fire. You glanced to his crotch and saw he was bulging and hard, and it had to be painful to be keeping his cock encased in leather for so long without release.

“I-I guess…”

He pouted at you. “I want to see all of you. Especially that leaking little pussy.”

You gasped at his words, feeling more juices dribble from your inner core onto the bedding. “S-stop, I can’t…”

“You can’t help it, hmm? This innocent part of you is getting so wet, it’s ready to be played with. That’s a good thing, my dear. I’ll touch it and fill it with my fingers and tongue and make you cum hard enough that you just might pass out. Then, I’ll fill you with my cock.”

Fuck, yes. This was everything you had dreamed of, and he was going to give it to you. “Please…”

“Shhh, just take off the clothes, my sweet, and I’ll make you feel even more pleasure,” he promised.

His words made your entire body clench. Yes, the flame was on full blast again. So you sat back on your knees, and exhaled. Eyes closed, you lifted up the bottom of the lingerie and pulled it up, tossed it across the room. You then held your breasts in each hand, looking to the side to avoid his gaze.

He did not hesitate to turn your head back to look directly into his eyes. He kissed you again, his tongue dipping to press to yours for a quick moment, your instinct to follow it with your own making him sigh happily. He breathed against your mouth, “stunning. You’re so stunning, sweetheart.”

He placed you back against the pillows in a quick motion, and once you re-oriented yourself you saw he was in full demonic form above you. His pink-tipped horns and leathery wings, and his eyes were bright with Lust. He was beautiful. The embodiment of it honestly.

You didn’t even register you were no longer holding your tits until he reached out to brush his hands across your belly and tickle upwards. You blushed, fingers twitching, wanting to hide but knowing he really wanted to see your nude body.

He smirked, and the energy in the room grew heated. “Are you ready for my tongue on your pussy, angel?”

You squirmed for a moment, feeling the thong cooling and wet against your lower lips counter act with the new pooling heat building within you. “'m ready.”

“For what, exactly?”

You glared at him. “Asmo…”

“Hush, you can say it, I believe in you,” he said with a sweet kiss to your forehead. “One sentence and I will make your body feel so good~”

You wanted him desperately. You had to say it.

As you spoke, you felt a blush cover your entire body. “Please, Asmo, I’m ready for your tongue on my… on my pussy.”

“Good girl.”

Asmo knelt down to kiss your bare stomach. His hands carefully pulled your thighs apart, and you resisted for a moment. He glanced up at you, and smiled softly, encouraging with his pretty face that he would be good to you. And that you knew already. So you let go, and his face was inches from your core, your thighs trembling.

“Let’s get this off you first,” he said, tugging the string against your hip with his finger. It snapped like magic (probably was magic) and he pulled it away, the feeling of it sliding against you causing a squirm. You were totally nude. Naked all for him.

He inhaled deeply, shivering hungrily. “Mmm, you smell so delicious. I need to taste you now.”

His tongue flickering on your clit was a shock even with his words. It made you gasp, and your hands automatically gripped his head of hair that was between your legs, then your fingers slipped to grasp his horns which were warm, feeling the smoothness and ridged edges between your digits.

He moaned as you tugged on him, speaking around your wetness, “Keep doing that, hold me here to lick you open.”

You cried out when he flickered his tongue against the sensitive nub between your folds. His hands pulled you open by your inner thighs so he could really get in there, press against your labia and lick upwards to then suckle your clit between his lips, and as he did so he made soft sounds that added vibrations. It was incredible what he was doing to you with his tongue, flickering it and flattening it in all the right spots.

“Asmo, feels good,” you panted, shoving him further into you. He did ask for it after all.

“Baby, you taste so good,” he moaned.

Spreading your thighs spread so wide it burned from the ache and pushing your body up into his mouth, it wasn’t long before you felt yourself closing in on another orgasm. You tried to let him know but he was seemingly uncaring of it. He hummed against your folds and suckled your clit with his mouth. His tongue was warm and wet. He was deep into giving you pleasure so you focused on climbing higher and higher, but you wanted this to last, too, so you tried to keep the pleasure at the highest point before you crashed down.

Eventually your hands let go of his horns, slipping through is silky locks and down to your own body to play with your own breasts, your nipples were rock hard and aching so you tugged them and moaned. You looked down at Asmo while he ate you out, and it was so hot to watch his head bob around between your legs. What a sight to see, the Lust avatar licking your most intimate parts.

He stopped for a quick moment when he heard you moan, and smirked with a sheen on his lips, “You look so gorgeous tugging your little nipples, darling,” he said, squeezing your thighs.

“You’re more gorgeous,” you blurted out, and blushed, keeping your hands on your breasts but feeling a little shy about it.

He laughed, “You’re so cute,” he then went back to lick more.

You wanted it to last, the feeling of his tongue on you. So you kept your own orgasm at bay a little more, delaying your own gratification just to hold onto the wondrous things he was doing to your vagina. If only you could stay like this forever, feeling this great until you died. What a fantastic thought. You never wanted this to end.

After a few minutes of getting his spectacular tongue, he kissed your inner thigh and spoke sweetly, “Darling, while I love how well you are doing at holding back, and that’s definitely something I would really like to explore, the sooner you cum, the sooner I can get inside of you.”

He was right, and it was getting to difficult anyways. You let yourself reach peak, it wasn't difficult with how close you had been, and came once again. This time with a powerful spurt across his face. Your entire body was red with embarrassment, but the pleasure coursing through you kept you from speaking. You glanced down to see him licking his lips, his cheeks and lips coated in a shimmer of almost clear white. Your own body’s juices, all over Asmo’s face.

He smirked at you, his wings fluttering. He was literally glowing. The pink tips of his horns seemed brighter. “My, you’re so sweet to give me such a lovely present.” He wiped a finger across his cheek, collected some of your fluids, and seductively sucked his finger. With a wet pop, his finger left his perfect ‘O’ mouth and he did this a few times while you just lay there, still coming down from the high, watching with awe, until he was clean again.

He leaned over you and kissed you, and you kissed back eagerly, tasting yourself on his tongue. It was a sour sweet taste, melding with his own candy sweet tongue. He hummed and moaned. The taste of you made your body tingle, it was a dirty kind of sexy.

Once he was done giving you the taste of your pussy on your tongue, he leaned back on his heels and rubbed his fingers delicately across your skin wherever he could touch you. Your legs, chest, stomach, your face, he did this while you calmed down from your second orgasm. The gesture was really sweet and you ended up smiling goofy at him at one moment, and he chuckled.

“Are you with me?”

You nodded. “Yeah…”

The back of his fingers ran across your ribs, back and forth, and he watched them and asked, “Do you want my cock now, dear?”

“Y-yes...”

“Wonderful~”

Undressing the rest of the way, so just his pants tore off (he didn’t wear underwear), he was totally nude in no time. His body was erotic personified. He was basically putting himself on show for you, as was his personality, so you took the chance to really look at his sexy body while he sat there, letting you stare at him.

The heart patterns on his skin stood out, darker at the edges and very bright in the center, as if they absorbed magic from your orgasms and fueled him. His whole body was pure art. Strong, lean, sexual art. His wings were something out of a storybook with fairies, dark fairies maybe, and they fluttered ever so often like he was a dog wagging his tail. Your heart beat faster as your gaze moved down his chest to his cock. No hair, thick, long, and his cockhead was red with pre-cum leaking at the tip, ready to be touched, or ready to be stuffed inside you.

“Do you like what you see, darling? Can you picture me filling you up?” he teased, his hand gripping his shaft, pumping it slowly.

What a sight that was. You swallowed loudly as he did this a few times before realizing he asked a question so you replied with a single, “Yes.”

He was totally right. You imagined him entering you, stretching you apart with the mushroom head of his weeping cock. Your pussy was drooling for him, clenching around nothing, aching from earlier activities but yearning for more. The permanent blush on your face was a clear indicator of your eagerness for him to fuck you.

“Let’s get you ready~” He was ecstatic, but you were nervous, biting your lip and squirming a little. “It’s all right. Lay back now, sweetie, get comfortable for me. Relax, you’re going to feel so good when I get my cock in you.”

You did as he said, and relaxed back. You threw your arm over your eyes, nervous, blocking out the rooms dim lighting and the chance he could see your face red and cringing. Your body was overstimulated but you found yourself needing more, needing his cock like he promised you. But the embarrassment of him sticking his cock inside of you, while incredibly hot, was also scary. You never had anything more than some toys or fingers before all this.

“All right hon, keep these legs wide open for me,” he said, tapping your thighs.

You spread them open, heart beating faster. You could feel him inching closer to your dripping core, and you held your breathe for a few seconds and exhaled shakily. You wanted this, desperately, but why couldn’t you just snap your fingers and have it over with so he could fuck you senseless already.

Asmo rubbed your leg, cooing at you as he did. “Take a few deep breaths, it’s all okay. Can I see your pretty face, pretty please?”

You dropped the arm from across your face, but still kept looking above you instead of at him.

“There she is, my gorgeous girl,” he said happily, squeezing your thigh with his large warm hand.

He didn’t do anything for a few moments, and you heard something snap, a bottle popping open. Suddenly his fingers pressed to your entrance, wet and cold. Your body tensed up and you began whimpering, unable to stop the sounds from escaping you.

“Shhh. I’ve got to stretch you open with lube, dear, your own juices just aren’t enough.”

Oh fuck. He was right, but did he have to say it like that? “Okay…”

He giggled at your blushing cheeks. “So cute!”

Your hands clawed the sheets as he stuffed his fingers inside of you, and it was cold for a moment but then warm, and he was pumping them in and out slowly, dragging them across your inner walls.

“You’re leaking all over my hand, it’s so fucking hot. I never knew you were such a leaker, sweetie, it’s so rare and lovely to watch my fingers get coated in your lovely juices.”

“Ah~ Asmo, stop talking like that,” you begged, feeling warmed lube and your body’s fluids trickle from your hole.

He giggled. “Aw, I think you love it, my dear. Your pussy gets so tight around my fingers when I say naughty things.”

“Nnngg, please,” you babbled.

He pressed his third finger in after a few minutes of the two pulling you open, and you grit your teeth as he did so up to his knuckle, twisting and pulling you apart. It burned your entrance, while his fingertips pressed against your puffy wet insides, stroking, soothing the sting.

“I know it hurts, but I promise it’ll feel better soon.”

He did this for several minutes, the wet squelching the only sound aside from your panting and gasping. Eventually you started to feel good, the burning pain turning up the heat inside your belly. You started begging for more, asking for him to fuck you.

“Asmo, fuck me, please, I’m ready.”

“Not yet, my sweet. I want to make sure your totally stretched for my cock~”

You half sobbed, gripping the sheets in your hand. Your hips wiggled, and he held onto your thigh to keep you still. You almost growled in anger. “Asmo!”

“Impatient, are we?” He was acting mischievous and you hated him for it.

You were ready, you knew it. “Please,” you sniffled out this time, batting your lashes at him.

He took pity on you, or you really were fully prepared to how he wanted you. “All right, my dear,” he lubed up his cock. His hand slid up and down his shaft, and his face was in ecstasy while he did, his cock not having gotten much attention. You wondered what he looked like while masturbating, he had to look so fucking sexy touching himself. Did he deny himself, or did he cum over and over? The thought had your body shivering, and he chuckled like he knew exactly what you were imagining. He felt your desire, so maybe he did.

“Here we go,” he said, lining his well-lubed dick against your stretched open leaking hole, grinning as he did, his leather wings fluttering. Slowly, he pushed inside of you, and it burned at first like his fingers initially did. He exhaled once the tip was fully inside, and you tossed your head back, waiting for him to stuff you to the brim with his cock. He slid in deeper, halfway about, and his length throbbed inside your wet slickness, your pussy doing the same.

“So tight and wet, I love this feeling.” He took your hips in his hands, lifting you upward just off the bed so your ass was barely brushing the sheets. Gasping as he did, you fumbled to grip onto the bedding with your hands. “I’m going to fuck you so good you’re not going to do anything but come to me from now on. I'm the only one who can give this to you, the only one who is allowed to fuck this tight hot pussy.”

“Ahh, Asmo…. Hnngg!” You cried out as he fully entered you, breaking your inner wall. It stung, a sharp pain that was just as bad as you thought it would be. You tasted copper in your mouth even though you were not bleeding.

He leaned over you and kissed under your teary eyes, fingers stroking your hips comfortingly. “It’s all right, take your time. You tell me when, love,” he whispered.

Your chest ached. Your core was sensitive. But you calmed down with him touching you, speaking nonsense adorations. Really feeling him surrounding you inside and out helped, focusing on his cock, warm and thick, pulsating. He wanted to move but would wait for you, and you did not want to wait any longer.

“Move, Asmo, I want to feel you move in me,” you panted out. You tilted your head to meet his mouth, and he kissed you happily, and started to move his hips.

Slowly at first he fucked you so you could get used to him. His cock tugged and pushed your inner walls, never fully exiting but stretching your opening as he slipped back into you until his balls rested just so against you. His cock fit wonderfully, pressed perfectly to that special spot deep inside of you to cause a sharp tingle throughout your body.

“Faster, please,” you asked, licking your dry lips.

He hummed, “Whatever you want, my sweet.”

The quick and sharp thrusts were fantastic. He hit all the right spots, curved your body to meet his in a seamless fit. Your hands were all over him and he loved it, arching into each touch you gave him, whether it was his horns, chest, or hair. He was so hot and firm, and you loved feeling the motions as he fucked you.

You pressed your face into his chest, gripping his shoulders, drooling on him without care. You were bent into him as he slammed his cock deep into you, tour nipples dragged over his firm burning skin. You didn’t hold back the sharp gasps or sudden moans when he hit your mass of tissue that gave of great waves of brilliant pleasure.

“Asmo, feels so good,” you cried out.

“You’re amazing,” he said, pounding you harder. “I want to feel you cum and clench this slick pussy around me.”

After coming so many times already, could you do it once more? Yes, you had to. When would you get this chance again, your first time, and with Asmodeus. You never wanted anything more than him right then. You desperately wanted to cum on his cock.

You pushed against him, following his movements. Push and pull, hips to hips, and wet and messy kissing to go along with it all from an awkward angle of you tilting your head up to meet his enthusiastic mouth. The motions got harder and faster, your body would no doubt be bruised tomorrow. Perhaps you had wanted a gentler first time, but right then, the roughness was something you craved. The rougher the better, and the closer you got to feeling another orgasm approaching.

“Asmo, ‘m so hot,” your fingernails clipped his skin as you clung to him.

“Oh, baby, I feel your desire for me, it’s so good, so sexy.” He bit your ear, tugging it, and you cried out, tightening around his cock.

Your body was tense, toes curling and muscles taught. The room was burning hot and sweat was dripping on your skin as you both moved together to reach an explosive ending.

“Do you want me to touch your clit, my dear? Will that help you cum around me?”

You nodded frantically, “Please, yes, touch me!”

“Hmm, where am I touching you again?” he teased.

You grabbed his horns and pulled yourself up more to stare into his eyes, and you did so with intensity. You had no time for games, you wanted to cum again. “Touch my clit, Asmodeus, so I can cum on your beautiful cock.”

He grinned devilishly and kissed you roughly, the hands previously holding your hips now gripped either side of your face for him to clash his teeth with your own, your body dropping down to the bed and causing as sharp painful pleasure to ignite in your pussy. “I’ve created a horny monster,” he laughed around your lips. "I love it."

You fell back onto the bed, and he crawled over you, his cock twitching inside you. He found a new rhythm, and watched your face as he fucked you.

He looked at your breasts and said firmly, “Pinch those nipples for me.”

You did, and as you touched your pert nipples, his finger found your clitoris and rubbed over it. It was nearly numb, and so swollen and wet, but the pressure aided you and gave you more to add to the list of pleasure spots being stimulated on your entire body. Your nipples tugged by your own hands, your pussy filled by his dick bumping your G-spot, and your clit was being stroked with his skilled finger. It was too much at once to handle.

“I-I’m gonna—”

Euphoria fell over you. Your hands reached up to grip his horns and your legs pulled him into you, almost keeping him seated inside while he pulled your orgasm from your body with his thick cock hitting your spot at the same time his thumb pressed against your clit. Your mouth opened wide, no sound came out, only hot puffs of air, and your hips uncontrollably thrusted as you chased the pleasure to the very end.

“So sexy when you cum on my cock, let me fill you up with my cum.”

Hot, wet pulsations came after he spoke, and he kept still while he filled you with his cum. You looked at him with blurry, heated eyes, mouth dry and body sticky with sweat, tingling from cuming around his dick. He was absolutely beautiful. Glowing eyes, sparkling from orgasm, leather wings fully spread apart, wide and wonderful and gorgeous. He kissed you, then, and you lazily kissed back, spent and exhausted.

He slipped out of you, and you winced. A puddle of wetness escaped you, a mixture of him and you no doubt. How much did he cum inside of you? You couldn’t tell, you were so wet and sticky all over.

He kissed you gently on the forehead, smoothing away your hair sticking to your face. “Hmm, you were amazing, my dear. Rest for a little while, okay? I’ll clean you up.”

You hummed in response, practically dead to the world, and he chuckled. You sank into the pillows, ready to nap. Until he spoke once more, just as you were about to fully slip into unconsciousness.

“Oh, and next time you touch yourself, I want to watch~”

[ordinaryschmuck]

What I Thought About "Echoes of the Past" from The Owl House

Salutations, random people on the internet who most certainly won’t read this. I am an Ordinary Schmuck. I write stories and reviews and draw comics and cartoons.

What probably gets debated the most in the fandom is the legitimacy behind King being the King of Demons. Some believe that there's truth to his statement, while others, like me, like to think that he was just some stray Eda picked up off the streets. Either option seemed likely, especially since Season One never gave an answer that leaned one way or the other.

Then here comes the writers finally answering the question of who King is in episode THREE of Season Two! Because, again, they don't waste time on giving fans exactly what they want.

Fans wanted answers behind King, we got 'em, and analyzing what those answers mean requires going deep into spoilers. So if you haven't checked the episode out yet, I highly recommend that you do. Trust me, it's worth seeing.

Now let's review, shall we?

WHAT I LIKED

Luz Experimenting with Spells: Hey, look! More proof that Luz isn't an idiot like some people flanderize her to be!

But, seriously though, this is a perfect little thread to introduce into the story. Luz collecting knowledge from Lilith's old books and past work she and Eda made adds to Luz's intelligence while also providing a believable explanation for how she gets new spells. It's also nice to see that she has this little notebook (or spellbook) to help see what works and what doesn't. It's a level of experimentation that proves her dedication to becoming a witch while also exemplifying how she isn't stupid. Occasionally reckless, sure, but you can't say that the person who figured out an invisibility spell through showing her work is also an idiot.

Francios with a Knife: How did Francois get a knife? I don't know. But the fact that a random knife plopped out behind him with little to no explanation is funny, and I will not hear otherwise.

I don't make the rules. I just abide by them.

Luz’s Invisibility Spell: I breezed past this, but I honestly love this invisibility spell. More specifically, I love that there's a limiter. It can turn you, objects, and people you're in contact with invisible, but only as long as you can hold your breath. It helps make the spell something the characters can't always rely on, which is appreciated. Because if it works as long as they concentrate, what's stopping them from sneaking into Belos' castle and assassinating him in his sleep? It's a smart way of explaining why they can't always rely on something, despite how insanely useful it is.

Luz: Let's gush about Luz some more, shall we!

"Echoes of the Past" is another episode that has Luz on top form. She is constantly supportive of King, even if Lilith has a point in the dangers of indulging his fantasy as a powerful tyrant. Doing so would cause more harm than good, especially when King finds out Luz doesn't believe him, but her going along with it was all done with the best of intentions. Luz doesn't want to hurt her friend, and even if she did in the long run, she still makes up for it by helping King learn more about his past.

And, as another reminder, Luz isn't stupid. She's the first to say they should leave when it's clear how dangerous the castle is and is quick to figure out there should be more at the top. Luz is a loyal and caring friend who's also guarded and intuitive when the situation calls for it. This episode understood that, so here's hoping other fans will too.

Lilith: Yeah, she's still growing on me.

I feel like this episode shows a better idea of Lilith's place in the group more than the past two. She's a person who's obsessed with knowledge and learning but considers herself above the jovial nature of King, Luz, and definitely Eda. Therefore, she acts as the perfect catalyst for what jumpstarts this week's adventure. It doesn't surprise me in the slightest that she almost instantly dismisses King's claims due to considering herself more knowledgeable than everyone else. Still, I like how she's willing to believe King once she finally sees evidence that seemingly proves he really was the King of Demons, to the point of referring to him as "her lord." Hooty does the same thing, but it comes across as him fearing for his own life and choosing to be friends with someone who could maybe kill him in an instant. For Lilith, her newfound respect comes from the desire to learn more, and it's that desire that makes Lilith an enjoyable character to me. It's adorable to see, and it has some comedic flavor in moments like when she dismisses everyone else and their emotional revelations to take pictures of the carvings around her. I'm sure she'll cause some controversy like other characters with rushed reformations, but for me, I'm more than ok with her addition to the main cast.

More of Lilith’s and Hooty’s Friendship: HOW DOES THIS WORK!?

ON PAPER, IT SEEMS LIKE IT WOULD BE A BAD IDEA, BUT IT F**KING WORKS!

HOW?!

WHAT BLACK MAGIC DID THESE WRITERS USE TO MAKE A RELATIONSHIP SO UNEXPECTED COME ACROSS AS SO ENDEARING AND ADORABLE?!

And where can I get some for my stories...just asking.

But seriously: HOW?!

Hooty Making Himself Portable: Ah, yes. The classic bit where a character does something horrifically grotesque off-screen, and we have nothing but character reactions and sound effects to imagine what happened between shot A and shot B. It's an oldie, but given how hard I was laughing (mostly because of Luz's gagging), it's still a goodie.

Eda’s Portable Bathtub Boat Thing: I mean...I was expecting Eda would use something to catch up with the others, but...that thing...well...I mean, I'm still laughing just by thinking about it. That should tell you how well executed this joke was.

John Luke: ...I'm gonna go ahead and add him to the list because HOLY S**T was this guy disturbing! From his design to his movements to even the sounds he makes when moving, everything about John Luke screams as something that will stay in kids' nightmares for a while. Now, this might seem like a complaint, but to be honest, I'm more than alright with how creepy John Luke is. I highly doubt adult viewers will consider John Luke scary, but I guarantee he'll terrify some of the youngins that this series is aimed for. And that's fine. It's good to creep kids out a little bit with something somewhat scary, as it might introduce them to more good horror stories later in life.

Plus, the reveal that John Luke was only a guard for King is pretty solid narratively speaking. You can see how John never really meant to hurt King aside from one accident when Eda escaped with him. If you want to read into it, I guess it might be questionable to tell kids that something that looks dangerous is secretly nice, but that's really nitpicky, in my opinion. John Luke was a fantastic threat that is designed and animated well, with a solidly executed twist. Some might hate what he presents, most will fear him, but we can all agree on one thing: His theme is awesome (can I get the track for that, please)!

King’s Backstory: Finally, at long last, we know who King is, thus putting an end to a year-long debate. And I fully mean it when I say that the writers gave the best possible answer. Because in a way, everyone was right. Yes, King was just an animal that Eda decided to adopt, like the nature-loving hippie she is inside (She's got the hair for it). However, while he may not be the King of Demons himself, he is still the son of someone who deserves that title. So while he isn't the King, there's a chance he might be the Prince. Once again, there's no direct answer, but given how the writers came up with something that pleases everyone while still providing more questions for debate, it acts as a brilliant move, in my opinion. So whatever answer we get next, I'm sure it will be just as perfect.

Baby King:

My heart was not prepared for that level of cuteness!

King’s Breakdown: NOR WAS IT READY FOR THIS LEVEL OF SADNESS!

But in all seriousness, a HUGE round of applause to Alex Hirsch for his performance in this episode. He expertly captured the raw emotions of shock, anger, betrayal, and sadness that King must have felt when finding out that everything he believed he was is a lie. It's one of those moments where I don't hear a person voicing lines in a booth (or wherever the hell VAs are voicing characters nowadays), but instead hear a living person being emotionally torn apart. It was heartbreaking seeing King so vulnerable as he's so guarded with his emotions. Seeing him like this adds so much more layers to a character that many would mistake him as a cute, comedic animal sidekick. But just like with Luz, there's more to him than people will tell you.

“I don’t even know what’s real or fake anymore!”: I'm just pointing out this line because I believe it's what convinces Luz to help King learn more about who he is. Hell, not knowing what's real or fake is the main reason why Luz got sent away in the first place, so I feel like she can relate to King when he's in a similar predicament.

Hooty and Lilith vs John Luke: This was just a cool scene with some epic moments of dodging John Luke's attacks and some funny ones, like how Hooty said the word "pain." It's a ten out of ten that I would rewind to watch again.

King’s Other Horn: I'd question the logistics of how a horn that got broken off when he was a baby still manages to fit perfectly in the present...but it is neat symbolism of King accepting his past and letting it be a part of him, so who cares?

(The fact that the colors of the broken-off piece don't match the rest of the horn is nice attention to detail as well.)

WHAT I DISLIKED

It's a Little Too Predictable: I pretty much figured almost every little twist the episode offers. But, I'm willing to say that's because I'm in my twenties, and I've seen enough stories similar to this one, so I'm more likely to know what will happen. The little monsters watching this will see it for the first time, so they'll most likely get more surprised than me...And that was my only complaint about the episode...which is more of a personal problem than an actual issue...I guess that means it's perfect.

IN CONCLUSION

"Echoes of the Past" is an easy A+ in my book. It gives lore and backstory that furtherly develops the characters that episodes like this should. It also tells a tragic story about King that still sprinkles in a few good jokes every now and again to lighten up the mood. Sure, there are some nitpicks I could mention (how did King remember his own birth?). But when the good stuff is done so well, what's the point of dwelling on small, insignificant issues? This is still a phenomenal episode that flew past all expectations I had for it, and it continues the winning steak this season is having so far.

(But that's still three home runs in a row. Meaning that a stinker is coming. Ooiee, is it coming!)

[yikesharringrove]

Show Pony

Chapter 3: Roses Are Falling

Read on Ao3

-

Steve’s hand was sweaty in Billy’s as he pulled him through the crowds in the fairground, ducking and weaving between the people milling about. 

Billy let himself be dragged, staring at Steve’s ass in his little denim shorts. 

It had been one week since their date at the diner. 

A week of Billy showing up to the rodeo, watching Steve compete in his event, and making out with him behind the arena. 

It was fun, sneaking around together in the blazing summer heat. 

He had even brought Max a few times, letting her wander around with some chick her own age she met. Apparently, her dad works at the rodeo or someshit. Billy wasn’t listening when she explained. Steve had been across the arena, taking off his flannel shirt and trading it for another one of his slutty little crop tops. 

It was a gorgeous show. 

But Max was somewhere eating her body weight in funnel cake while Steve took him into a tent labeled Employees Only. 

There was an eclectic group of people sitting at the long tables in the tent, all greeting Steve as he pulled Billy through to a group of younger people sitting together at the end of one of the tables. 

Steve pushed Billy onto one of the benches, perching right on his lap like that was totally fine. Like it was easy for Billy to just. Keep his dick in check. 

The girl sitting across from them sighed heavily, raising one eyebrow at Steve. 

“Shut up, Robin.”

“I didn’t say anything,” she was still giving Steve a very pointed look. 

“You don’t have to.” Steve slumped back against Billy’s chest, no doubt petulant. 

She shook her head, finally addressing Billy. 

“I’m Robin.”

“She does barrel racing,” Steve leaned back, muttering the information into Billy’s ear. His breath was hot against Billy’s skin, and Billy had to fight down a shiver that crept up his spine despite the blazing heat.

Another girl was sitting next to Robin, a pretty brunette with doe eyes to rival Steve’s. She seemed vaguely familiar. 

And then it clicked. 

“Aren’t you in the pageants?”

She laughed softly.

“My name’s Heather. And yes, I’m reigning Miss Rodeo USA, so I’ve been with these guys and will be until the next girl is crowned. It’s been a good time.” She glanced over at Robin, bumping their shoulders together. Billy raised one eyebrow at Robin, catching her eye and making her flush slightly. He shot her a quick wink. 

Steve shifted in his lap, putting one arm over Billy’s shoulders, winding his fingers through his little ponytail. 

“So, Billy,” Robin tried to move the conversation along, rolling her shoulders back. “We’ve heard a lot about you.” 

“All bad, I hope.” 

“Nah, just, I feel like I know you quite well know. Like, really well. Like better than I ever wanted to know a guy-”

“Okay, yeah, Robin. We get it. Thanks.” Steve squirmed slightly in Billy’s lap, the back of his neck and the tips of his ears a bright red color. It was cute. Billy didn’t realize when Steve’s cheeks went all pink, that, other, places of him flushed too. He wondered how far down that rosy tint on Steve’s cheeks went. If it was all over his chest, if it leads down to his-

Nope. Not going there right now. Not when Steve is sitting on Billy’s lap, and they’re in fucking public. Absolutely not. No thanks. Billy’s fine. 

Robin squinted at him, and he tried to keep his face as blank as possible. 

Steve sighed heavily through his nose, shaking his head. 

“I’m getting a pop. Anyone else?”

Robin waved him off, and he was gone with a roll of his eyes. 

“So, you’re the poor San Diego bastard. My condolences.”

Billy squinted at her. 

“Not sure what you mean.” 

She took a deep breath, looking at Heather briefly. 

“Look. You know this little fling is just that. A little fling. Steve, he kinda, does this. Finds someone in every place we’re stationed, and has a month-long something with them. He loves attention but he’s too scared of commitment to do anything else. And honestly, I’m saying this all for your sake, because I’ve seen people get attached. He’s gonna eat you alive, and then he’s gonna leave, and it’s easier for you if you know that going in.”

Robin’s words settled like a fucking pit in Billy’s stomach. 

Because, yeah. He, like, kinda figured that. He knew their time was limited. Knew that Steve would slip through his fingers. And really, that was fine. Billy thinks he’d be the exact same way if the roles were reversed, that he would be constantly moving from one person to the next, never getting lonely, but never getting deep, either. 

He understands the whole commitment-phobe thing. Kinda takes one to know one. 

So he gets it. 

Doesn’t mean it doesn’t feel like shit to have it put. So plainly.

“I’m sorry. That was probably too harsh but, you seem like a nice guy, and Steve doesn’t mean anything by it. He’s not trying to hurt people, he just, definitely uses the whole traveling rodeo thing to his advantage.”

“Nah, I get it. Really, I kinda figured it out. He said he likes to make friends wherever they are. So, it’s fine. And I think sometimes harsh can be alright.” He doesn’t wanna make Steve’s friend feel bad. 

And really, he did know what they were doing and what this was about. It just sucks having it confirmed by someone else. And put. So plainly. 

“I’m really not trying to be mean. I just kinda wanted to prepare you. If this is gonna be something that hurts, maybe it’s best to get out now.” Robin had very pretty blue eyes and freckles all over her face. She seemed warm, and the way she was staring at him was with so much concern. 

“Thank you. I get it, honest. I’d probably act just the same if I were him.”

“If you were who?” Steve had returned, slapping a can of root beer on the table in front of them, taking a seat pressed as close as possible to Billy, lifting up his arm to slide underneath it. 

“Quit being nosy.” Robin reached out to muss up Steve’s hair, poking him in the forehead. “What are you two doing today?”

Steve shrugged, taking the bait and moving on. 

“Wander the grounds. Maybe hang out at my place.” Billy’s interest piqued. He had no idea Steve had a place. “Might sneak out and go for a drive or something. You got any preference?” Steve leaned over the table, resting his elbows on top, placing his face in his hands, turning to look at Billy. 

“We could kick around here. I gotta drive Max home later so we should probably stick around.” Steve grinned at him. 

“Well, c’mon then. You’ve got plenty to see around here.”

Billy felt like Steve has already dragged through the entire grounds, he doesn’t know how there’s more to see. 

But it turned out there’s a lot more. Because Steve’s place, as it turns out, is one in a huge crowd of trailers. 

It was kinda out of Billy’s wildest imagination. Like what he’d picture an old-school traveling circus to be like. 

People were milling around everywhere, Steve saying hi to almost everyone they passed. Animals were being led to and from the large arena and the makeshift paddocks that were set up in the open grass. 

It was like nowhere Billy’s ever been before. 

Steve led him through the maze of trailers to a smaller version of an old school Airstream near the back of the lot, still hitched up to the back of a much larger, and very nice-looking, RV. 

Stevie Harrington was painted in curling dark green letters on the rounded metal door, a little cow munching on some grass painted below it.

“That your art?”

Steve snorted.

“ God, no. Robin did it for me a few years ago. That’s why it looks good.”

The hinges on the door squealed when he pulled it open and led Billy inside. 

It was hot in the airstream, and Steve turned on the solar power to get a small fan moving air through the place, propping open the door and the tiny window above the table.

“Home sweet traveling home.”

“Damn. This ain’t too bad of a setup.”

It really wasn’t. Sure, it was small, but it was perfect for one person. A tiny kitchenette faced the minuscule bathroom. The far sides of the trailer were taken up by a dining area, a table with booth-like seating, and a queen-sized bed taking up the opposite side, a small closet smushed between the bed and the kitchen.  

It was immaculately clean, not totally what Billy had expected from Steve. The bed was made, an old-looking, worn-out stuffed horse placed neatly in front of the pillows. 

There were pictures pinned up on little string light clothespins on the wall the bed was shoved against, and Steve even had a few posters over the booth seats. 

“It’s kinda nice. I saved up for a while to buy it. It’s kind of a lot being trapped in an RV with your parents, let me tell you. I’m still hooked up to theirs, and when we move I ride with them, usually, but at least I’ve got some space to myself.” Steve looked down at his feet. “Plus, I kinda figured, this is about as close as I’ll ever come to living on my own.”

“I really do like it. You’ve made it real nice in here.”

Steve looked back up to him, smiling proudly. 

“We don’t have to like, hang out in here. I just thought I’d welcome you in. To like, say, you know, if you’re ever around but don’t wanna hang out doing the same rodeo shit all the time, we could, like, spend some time in here.” Steve’s cheeks were going red. 

And Billy was fairly certain he knew where this was going. 

So he took the metaphorical bull by the horns, and wrapped his fingers in Steve’s literal belt loops, and pulled him close enough that their lips could touch. 

And apparently, Billy was right. Because Steve kissed him back immediately, and fervently, sliding his arms over Billy’s shoulders and pressing into him enough to move Billy back a few steps until his knees hit the bed, and he fell to sit on it. 

Steve wasted no time climbing on his lap, kneeling straddling Billy, pressed together as close as possible. 

Steve broke the kiss, his chest heaving as he breathed heavily and Billy attached himself to Steve’s neck, leaving wet kisses in his path down the long column of his throat. 

“God, fuck. Can we-”

“ Yeah. Yeah, Baby,” Billy was breathless as he replied, getting both hands under Steve’s ass and flipping their position in one fluid motion, getting Steve on his back, his legs wrapped around Billy’s waist. 

“Get the door.”

Billy pressed a long sucking kiss to Steve’s neck before pulling away, slamming the door closed as Steve drew the blinds on the window above the bed and turned on the air conditioning unit in the ceiling.

“It’s gonna get super fucking hot in here if we fuck.”

“That’s a chance I’m willing to take.”

Steve laughed at Billy, rolling back to lay properly on the bed, taking his stuffed horse and tossing it on the table behind Billy. 

“I don’t want her to have to see this.”

“Fine by me.” Billy was back on him in a second, pushing his hands up Steve’s shirt, yanking it off him as fast as possible. 

Steve was so fucking gorgeous. 

He had a light tan all over his body, with definite paler parts where his shirts usually sit. 

And he was fit. His muscles weren’t as bulky as Billy’s, but he was obviously strong. 

Billy leaned over him, tasting the salt on his skin as Steve began fumbling with the buttons of Billy’s shirt, pushing it off his shoulders so roughly one of the shoulder seams groaned, threatening to rip. 

Billy took that as his cue to pull away from Steve again, shedding his shirt and kicking off his shoes, helping Steve out of his little short shorts. 

He was wearing this excellent pair of boots, deep red with white embroidered stitching covering the boot. 

Steve leaned forward, moving to pull off the boots.

“Wait, no. Leave ‘em on.”

Steve looked at him.

“You call me a hick all the fuckin’ time, and now you’re here saying you wanna fuck me in my boots.”

“It’s hot. You’re like the chick from Footloose .”

“Aren’t you gay?”

“Hot is hot, Steve.” 

Steve huffed a laugh, putting his leg back down, letting Billy settle between both of them. 

“So, are we gonna talk about the girl in an eighties movie, or are you going to fuck me through this mattress?”

“Alright, bossy. You got lube?”

Steve huffed, poking Billy’s chest until he moved off him. 

Steve sat up, crawling to the end of the bed, digging through the laundry in the hamper for the bottle of lube. 

Billy stared at him. 

Mostly, he was just staring at his asshole. It was so perfect and pink, and looked buttery and soft. 

And Jesus, he really just wanted to lick it, to get his face buried between Steve’s cheeks and go to town on the pretty pink furl of muscle. 

And, well, what’s stopping him? 

Absolutely nothing.

He got up, following Steve’s path until he was behind him, taking each cheek in one hand. 

Steve froze where he was digging through the laundry, Billy’s breath puffing between his cheeks. 

“What are you-” 

And then Billy licked up his crack, his tongue dragging all the way up from his balls, flicking once against his hole. 

“ Billy .” Steve spread his legs, pushing his hips back into Billy’s face, wordlessly asking for more. 

So Billy gave it to him. 

He opened his mouth, licking all around his rim, pressing his tongue just slightly inside, sucking on the soft pink flesh, making Steve’s breath hitch and whines pour out of his mouth. 

“Fuck, you’re good at that.”

Billy responded by pulling back, and spitting on Steve’s hole. 

Steve was taken by surprise, if his soft gasp was anything to go by. He dropped his head against the bed, biting onto the blanket. 

Billy just kept going, using his lips and tongue and teeth, opening him up and getting him wet. 

“Fuck, Billy, please just fuck me. I want you so bad .” Steve’s voice was pitchy and breathy, muffled in the blanket. 

He was grinding his hips forward and back, pressing himself against Billy’s tongue. 

Like he wanted nothing more than he wanted Billy’s tongue in his ass right then. 

And Billy certainly wasn’t complaining, not at how fucking nice and soft his asshole was against his tongue, how he tasted kinda clean and kinda musky at the same time. It was heady and Billy would happily spend the rest of his stupid life with his face buried between Steve’s cheeks. 

Something smacked against the top of Billy’s head, and he pulled away briefly to find a bottle of lube on the bed, the one that Steve had no doubt tossed over his shoulder and accidentally accosted Billy with. 

“That fuckin’ hit me in the head, you piece a’ shit.”

“I don’t care,” Steve whined, pushing his hips back even further, spreading himself out more and more for Billy to hungrily take in. “Just finger me and fuck me !”

“Bossy.”

Steve huffed, shifting his head around until he could look back at Billy, his brows pinched in a little scowl, giving Billy a dirty look that was equal parts adorable pout and sexy scowl. He looked like the grumpiest little slut. 

And Billy indulged him, squeezing out a big glob of lube, meticulously coating his first two fingers with it. 

“I know what I like, and I get what I like.”

“Jesus, I thought all them girls were the rodeo queens. Not you .”

“I’m the queen of getting my fucking way. Now for the love of God, put your fingers in me.”

And Billy couldn’t do anything but indulge him. 

He began with just one finger, sliding it slowly and deliberately down to the last knuckle. 

Steve sighed as Billy’s finger entered him, relaxing his upper body into the bed, somehow canting his hips up even more, his back arched as much as Billy’s ever fuckin’ seen. 

So Billy took a chance, pumping his finger in and out a few times, pulling it nearly all the way out, only to replace it with both fingers. He moved slowly, simply fucking Steve with his fingers for a moment, watching Steve as he crooked his fingers downward. 

And Steve moaned, and it was like he became a puddle. All his muscles relaxing and unwinding as Billy curled his fingers, pressing deeply against his prostate, rubbing tiny circles into the small bundle of nerves. 

“God, Bill. That feels so fucking good,” Steve said through a throaty moan. Billy was slowly moving his fingers in and out of Steve, pressing down into that wonderful spot each time he was buried all the way to the knuckle. “Add another. Please, I want you in me.”

Billy had to palm himself to relieve some of the pressure of his own dick, flushed red and oh so painful where it was hard against his stomach. 

But he did as Steve told him to do, drawing out his two fingers to press in a third. 

There was something of a shift in the sticky airstream. As those three thick fingers sank into Steve, it was as though both boys agreed to move faster. Steve began pushing his hips back and forth, fucking himself on Billy’s fingers, matching the steady pace Billy had set with his hand. 

Billy was tugging his fingers in and out, pushing into Steve’s prostate with each movement, the lube creating a squelching noise as they picked up the pace. 

And finally, Steve had enough. 

He moved his hips forward, sitting back on his heels to look at Billy over his shoulder. 

His face was flushed, his bangs sticking to his forehead with sweat, his pupils blown wide, making his already dark eyes seem nearly black. He tossed Billy a condom, and Billy caught it against his heaving chest. 

Steve’s breath caught as Billy ripped open the condom wrapper with his teeth, looking like some kinda fuckin’ animal, rolling it onto himself with a practiced hand.

“Billy, I fucking want you-”

Billy cut him off by pressing himself against Steve’s back, kissing him harshly as he felt him up, his hands roving, touching every bit of Steve he could possibly manage. 

Steve had his own mission, reaching awkwardly behind him to take Billy’s stiff cock in hand, fumbling slightly as he lined up the flushed head of his dick with his slicked-up hole, teasing himself before urging Billy to push on in. 

Their lips lost touch from one another the second Billy began moving his hips forward, their moans mingling in the space between them. 

“God, fuck, Stevie.” Billy could hardly control himself. He so wanted to let loose, start fucking wildly into the tight heat of Steve’s body, take him as hard and fast as possible. 

He let his hands drop down and settle on Steve’s hips. He could feel the firm muscles tensing under his hands, like Steve was barely keeping himself from rocking back to fuck himself harder and faster on Billy’s cock. 

And that’s what pushed Billy over the edge. 

He pushed Steve forward until he was back in position, face down, ass up. His hands gripped Steve’s hips hard enough to leave bruises, and Jesus, Billy hoped to fucking God Steve had dark marks in the shape of Billy’s fingers for days and days. And he let himself go for it. 

Steve was making these breathy, punched-out noises, like with every harsh thrust of Billy’s hips, all the air in his lungs was being forced right out of him. 

Billy was slamming them together, pulling Steve’s hips back as he surged his own forward, pulling out almost entirely each time. He was relentless, taking Steve like a goddamn animal right there on the once neat bed. 

Neither of them was going to last long, they both knew it. 

Billy had taken so much time opening Steve up with his lips and tongue and fingers, Steve wouldn’t even be shocked if he came completely untouched, falling apart with only the attentions Billy has granted to his hole. 

Until Billy reached around him with his left hand, still gripping Steve’s body with his right. 

He took hold of Steve’s leaking cock, brushing his thumb over the slit to collect some of the glistening precum, drawing his hand tightly down the shaft, moving at an agonizingly slow pace compared to the buck of his hips, keeping Steve on the edge of something, making everything way too much and definitely not enough. 

And there was nothing Steve could do. 

He felt fucking helpless as Billy pounded him. It was taking all his energy not to just melt into the mattress at this point and let Billy have his way with him. 

But Billy was getting close, too close to keep this game up for much longer. 

He sped up the movement of his hand, his fist beginning to pump faster and faster over Steve’s aching cock. He wanted him to finish first, wanted to watch as Steve writhed and moaned about. 

It didn’t take long. Less than a minute of Billy jerking Steve as quick and rough as he was fucking him, and Steve was spilling out onto the blanket below him, nearly yelling out while his hips convulsed and his fingers twisted until he had a white knuckle grip on the blanket. 

Billy could only just hang on, fuck and jerk Steve through it, only letting his grip on his cock go a little slack when Steve finally relaxed a bit below him. 

Billy pulled out, snapping off the condom and taking his dick in hand, finishing himself off all over Steve’s lower back, watching his thick cum drip down the slope of his ass. 

“ Fuck. You’re so hot,” Billy said, totally in awe. Steve was even hotter than normal wearing nothing but his bright red boots and Billy’s spunk. 

Billy took a cloth from the tiny bathroom, getting it a little wet to wipe the cum off of Steve as he lay stretched like a cat on the small bed. 

“Thank God I don’t have to ride tomorrow, I don’t think I’ll be able to sit, let alone get in a saddle.” He threw a wink over his shoulder at Billy, bending his knees to let his feet kick up behind him, crossing his ankles in the red boots. 

“We should make the best of our good fortune, then. I’ve got a few more rounds in me.”

“Billy Hargrove, you fuckin’ devil .”

[galladerocksgamer]

Okay so I love the Paranormal Liberation War arc, it does so much fantastic stuff, dang near perfect across the board. But I think it’s pretty widely felt that the pacing got a bit off the rails near the end, we had big reveals and character moments stacking up and half of them barely even felt relevant. And me being the person who just thinks about things in depth and for long periods, I’ve still been dwelling on it for months. And now as the manga has continued, I’m finally seeing how some of the aforementioned War moments could have been better executed in different situations, because honestly this latest arc seems like it would have been tailor-made to address them all. So lemme take a closer look at three different components here: Mirio/Eri, Bakugo, and Hawks.

1. Mirio and Eri

Probably the most random moment from the war’s climax, don’t think anyone was predicting the sudden return of Mirio to battle. I love Mirio, he’s one of my favorite characters, but it was a pretty anticlimactic way to bring him back into the fold. He doesn’t even really bring anything special to the battle, nothing uniquely Mirio. His role is just backing up Best Jeanist against the Nomu, and anyone could have done that. Burnin could’ve arrived sooner, or Manual and Rock Lock could’ve come back after getting the injured heroes to safety. Heck, if you still wanted the Nighteye agency to be involved, then Bubble Girl and Centipeder could’ve been the cavalry to help Jeanist. But instead Mirio returns unexpectedly and none too remarkably.

And on top of that, we’re basically just told “oh by the way Eri has some control of her power now.” Something that the series had been building up toward for awhile just … occurs off-screen with no forewarning. Really feels like a disservice to Eri and her development to not give that intense moment any real spotlight.

It felt extremely weird for me at the time, but I also kinda wanted to give it the benefit of the doubt. Maybe the coming arcs just couldn’t afford to place focus on Eri and Mirio, so their respective developments were tied together to lend an extra surprise to the war’s final bout. But instead this most recent arc has gone the opposite route … through the return of Chisaki.

The man once known as Overhaul, now thoroughly broken and wanting nothing more than to fix his one great regret. With Nagant’s defeat, he winds up back in custody, but having now once again met with Midoriya and made his wish known. So indeed, the opportunity arises for Eri and Mirio to be brought back to the forefront. I don’t doubt that we will indeed have at least a brief glimpse at Eri healing Chisaki’s boss as Midoriya promised, but the potential for that scene could really have been through the roof if it was the impetus for Eri to willingly use her power on a person for the first time.

Imagine Midoriya coming to Eri with that heavy request, of Eri deciding to offer this kindness toward Chisaki of all people, using her power to heal before the man who always told her that she could only destroy. Because really, I don’t think there’d be a question of that, we know the kind of kid Eri is, and she won’t let anyone suffer if there’s any way she could prevent it. Even if Chisaki was the person asking, there might be hesitation and fear, but is there any doubt she’d offer what aid she could in the end? And for Pops to be the first person she helps, to undo the harm carelessly inflicted by Chisaki … well, it’d certainly be poetic.

As for Mirio in this scenario, that could go a couple ways. Route 1: Eri is hesitant to help Chisaki with Pops because she would rather help Mirio get his Quirk back, and we know that her power seems to have a bit of a limit on it via the energy stored in her horn. So what if it did work, but she ran out of juice healing Pops and then made Mirio wait even longer? Well, of course that’s exactly what he’d insist on, he wouldn’t let himself take priority over another person in need of Eri’s help. And he’d take it all in good spirits as always. Or Route 2, if there was concern that Eri’s power could run wild while trying to help Pops, then they could go the complete opposite direction and have Mirio offer to go first, to be the guinea pig for Eri in case of emergency. But of course, he’d have full faith in her all along and coax her through, ensuring her of just how helpful and brave she always is.

So yes, can see how Eri and Mirio’s development could have taken a more satisfying route, and cap us off with some good ole Chisaki angst to boot (though at least we’ve still got a decent serving of that). Now moving on …

2. Great Explosion Murder God Dynamight

So Bakugo’s long and arduous journey of personal growth reached a new peak during the battle with Shigaraki, where his body moved without thinking and he underwent his true heroic awakening to protect Midoriya. Such a sacrifice seems like a perfect cap for his development for the War arc … and then a couple chapters later he forces himself right back into action to back up Best Jeanist, and as promised he reveals his over-the-top hero name to his mentor. In this case I don’t think there’s anything inherently wrong with the reveal, but in light of his preceding big heroic action, it really feels like a hat on a hat.

It’s not like Bakugo’s hero name heralded some major turning point for the battle; Jeanist’s arrival (and subsequently Mirio’s) had already assured that. And like Mirio, there wasn’t any real special reason for Bakugo to rejoin the fight with the Nomu, especially with Iida and Hado on the scene. After getting skewered by Shigaraki, it would have been pretty simple for Bakugo to just spend the rest of the fight bleeding unconscious on the ground, rather than complicating matters by shoving him back into the fray. And ultimately, the moment feels a bit anticlimactic. All the suspense waiting for Bakugo’s hero name, and then it’s revealed at a time where he barely even has the spotlight.

Of course, such a bombastic name as “Great Explosion Murder God Dynamight” doesn’t particularly lend itself to a quiet or emotional scene, so it wouldn’t be thematically fitting to move that revelation to Bakugo’s hospital bed or his somber apology to Midoriya. That said, given his decision to announce the name first to Jeanist, there would at least be precedent for him to have a “Dabi says secrets in a black speech bubble” moment in the hospital in which he talks to Jeanist but leaves the readers in the dark, before coming back to the actual audience reveal later on.

And there must certainly be other opportunities to present the name appropriately. Bakugo is a master of making an explosive entrance, after all. And when Class 1-A finally catches up to Midoriya, if Bakugo really wanted to make a big impact on his friend/rival before getting into the sentimental stuff, then it would be a prime chance to reveal his hero name in grandiose fashion, both to Midoriya and the audience.

Or if his hero name had been Kacchan, then that reveal would have fit right in with his apology to Midoriya, but that’s neither here nor there

This could be one scenario, of course, but it hardly feels like that would’ve been the only option. And compared to the crammed-in reveal in the final fight with the League, it’s easy to say that there could have been plenty of smoother roads to take.  But setting that aside, moving onto the final touch:

3. Hawks

The long-awaited Hawks backstory doesn’t really disappoint. Admittedly, there weren’t really a lot of holes necessary to fill in there; we’d had enough bits and pieces provided before this point to pretty much put together the whole picture of his crummy childhood. But even without any really surprising turns, the flashback is welcome and hits some good emotional beats. But really, the glaring issue in this area is the timing.

We’re presented this backstory at an instance where Hawks is hardly the most relevant character. Shigaraki is undergoing a personal crisis as All For One seizes the reigns of his own body, Endeavor’s dark history has been exposed and the Todoroki family is in turmoil, escapees from Tartarus roam the streets, and Midoriya consults internally with the vestiges of One For All ... and the narrative decides to take a chapter to look at Hawks. Practically nothing from his flashback directly relates to present events, serving only to further emphasize his already well-established devotion to Endeavor and his (misguided) understanding of Twice’s feelings. The timing is just kind of baffling, especially with some other more appropriate places being readily apparent.

For instance, only a dozen chapters later, we’re properly introduced to Lady Nagant. As Hawks’s predecessor within the Hero Commission, the two have a lot in common, and the similarities and differences between the two could set up some interesting comparisons if Hawks’s backstory was saved to follow up Nagant’s. Two idealistic young children, handpicked by the Commission and groomed into assassins, yet whose outlooks in the present day are starkly opposed? Nagant's guilt driving her to turn on the Commission, while Hawks holds few regrets despite the blood on his hands, longing for freedom from the Commission’s grasp? That kind of parallel could really have built a more solid foundation for Hawks’s past to be laid upon.

That could be an effective setup, but there’s another approach I’d actually much rather have seen, one that brings Hawks’s backstory not later, but earlier: during the dramatic confrontation between Hawks and Dabi. The instant that Dabi reveals he knows Hawks’s real name, the story opens itself up perfectly to dive into his past. And the timing would be superb, showing Hawks at his worst as he murders Twice, then turning back the clock to look at the innocent child who just wants to save people. A little boy whose feathers tingle with the need to rescue those in need, superimposed against the man whose same feathers are used to deliver the killing blow to a victim of hero society’s ills. You want angst? Now that’s how you do angst. Placing the backstory there would play up the tragedy of both Hawks and Twice simultaneously: a “hero” raised by the Commission to cut threats to their control short at the root, and a “villain” who could have been a kindred spirit but instead suffers for their would-be friendship.

And that’s not even the icing on the cake. The real matter of interest here comes in Hawks’s view of Endeavor. By the time we get to Hawks’s backstory, all of Japan has already learned of Endeavor’s history from Dabi, and the result of the timing feels a smidge tone-deaf, and fails to realize the full potential resonance of the situation. The flashback to young Hawks as a victim of child abuse, who is rescued (unwittingly) when Endeavor arrests his father, is presented to us as the moment when Hawks realized that heroes are real, not merely a fantasy. We see why he developed such an ideal view of heroes, and why he is so specifically loyal to Endeavor ... so just imagine if all that was presented during his showdown with Dabi. Imagine if all that came before the tragic revelation of Toya Todoroki. The true terrible irony, that Hawks was rescued from his abusive father by someone secretly guilty of the same crimes, that Hawks’s whole epiphany of “real heroism” was founded upon one of the most corrupt enforcers of all.

The end result would be the same, I’m sure. After all, this is certainly the same thought process Hawks was going through all along, and his decision to maintain his faith in Endeavor’s personal growth would presumably remain unchanged. But presenting Hawks’s backstory before Dabi’s would have opened up a lot more room for us as the audience to actually see Hawks’s views be challenged. If there’s one real complaint I’ve got about Hawks’s character, it’s that we don’t really tend to see him questioning himself or his actions; whatever happens, he rolls with it and presses on, no matter how his ideals are brought into question. But this simple matter of timing could go a long ways to remedying that, granting the audience the chance to watch Hawks grapple with his personal image of and approach to heroism, and his relationship with Endeavor, rather than allowing most of that to pass unseen in the wake of the war’s end. Even if he would ultimately come to the same conclusion, at least such a narrative structure would provide a much more satisfying presentation of his struggle up to that point.

So, I’m not great at endings, but that brings us to the conclusion of my rambling though process here. To recap, the more I’ve thought about it, the more obvious it is that the backloaded War arc could be remedied, and the following arc only made that more obvious. Why force Mirio’s return so soon when he could be tied in later with Eri mastering her powers and the desperate pleas of Chisaki? Why shove in Bakugo’s hero name when the boy has already made a tremendous impact on the arc, and will be more open to further focus during the conflict with Deku in the next? And why throw in Hawks’s backstory as a standalone chapter at a time when it’s largely irrelevant, when there was such great potential to emotionally contrast him with the backstory of Nagant or Dabi? These are the kinds of things I think about. Little things, really, and honestly the whole reason they stand out to me is just that the rest of the arc around them is so dang fantastic. So … yes. This is the testament to my love for this manga, thanks for coming to my Ted Talk, byeeeeee

[historic-old-guard-lover]

How many languages and which of them would the cast speak if we’re going to be completely historically accurate ?

This a great question that I can’t quite answer, but I spent six hours researching to give it a shot. I think that there’s a broad range of plausible languages and you’ve got leeway to choose how many. The first part is that different people have different affinities for languages. Some people can speak ten different languages fluently (or near-fluency), while others will struggle juggling three different ones in their brains. The range in the languages can affect this, too: it’s easy to mess up between similar languages. I personally have trouble speaking Spanish because in the middle of the sentence, I’ll drop a French word without even realizing it. The same thing doesn’t happen to me in other languages like German, though. By the same token as I’ve discussed before, similar languages are easier to learn. Going from English to Russian with the Cyrillic alphabet? More difficult than English to French, which makes up about a third of modern English. These are languages that are still in the same family (Proto-Indo-European, PIE), though, so it holds nothing to the difficulty of going from English to a language like Mandarin.

I’m breaking this answer into two parts: 1) how many?; 2) which ones? and I’m going to get carried away because I’m me so it’s below the break to spare you if this comes across your dash and you’re not a nerd...

PART 1: What’s a realistic number for them to speak?

I think that each member of the old guard probably has a certain number of languages which they’re comfortable with, a few more that they can understand/get by in, and a few that they may only know phrases from. The number of each isn’t the same for everyone. The average human being is able to speak ~1.5 languages. The most talented polyglots can speak upwards of 50 languages, maybe one guy even spoke 65 (mostly I want to mention he loved translating the phrase “kiss my ass”). This hyperpolyglot, Kreb aka “Kiss My Ass” Stan, had his brain dissected after his death and it showed a lot of “abnormalities”. That leads neuroscientists and me to believe that being able to study and learn 65 languages is either 1) a major skill that rewired his brain because he was flexing it so much; or 2) very abnormal and facilitated by his brain differences. Since their powers don’t make them stop being limited by the human brain (they can forget), I would say that it is unlikely that one of them is fluent/near fluent/comfortable in more than ~65 languages.

Getting past twelve languages is considered a feat, so I think only Andy, Quynh, Nicky, and Joe could be anywhere near the upper-bounds of languages. Remember, these hyperpolyglots spend their entire lives studying languages and often need refreshers. The members of the Old Guard don’t have the luxury of reading grammar books all day, and they also have to remember a bunch of combat training. You can argue that a lot of fighting is “muscle memory” aka located in the cerebellum and nowhere near language processing areas, but there’s still things like math, navigation, etc. that they need to remember. I doubt they have a list of their safe houses just lying around. The older members can speak more languages by virtue of being around longer and having that time to learn, but if we’re being realistic they should probably speak no more than ~45-55 languages comfortably. This doesn’t mean that they only *know* that many, but the other languages would be more like bad high school Spanish in America than able to wax poetic. Aside: that Joe is able to be poetic in what is AT LEAST his fourth or so language is very impressive and we should talk about that more.

How Many Each Member is Maximally Proficient In/Knowledgeable Of at the end of the film/Opening Fire comics run:

Lykon (comics): proficient in ~15, knowledgeable of ~30*

Lykon (movies): proficient in ~45, knowledgeable of ~80*

Andy: proficient in ~50, knowledgeable of ~100**

Quynh | Noriko: proficient in ~51, knowledgeable of ~90**

Joe: proficient in ~30, knowledgeable of ~80

Nicky: proficient in ~30, knowledgeable of ~80

Booker: proficient in ~10, knowledgeable of ~30

Nile: proficient in ~2 (maybe 3), knowledgeable of ~5

*In the comics, he is younger than Andy and Quynh and I assume he dies young. In the movie, it is strongly implied that he was the oldest. The reason why his numbers are not larger, however, is because at some point there were fewer languages as humanity had not dispersed as much as it eventually did. He’s also long before written language which facilitates learning for most people. RIP Lykon.

**I’m not saying that Quynh is smarter than Andy, just that she comes after written language and it should be slightly easier for her to pick things up. I’m giving Andy access to more languages, however, because PIE alone covers Europe, Central Asia, and South Asia. More on this later.

PART 2: Which languages would each of them speak?

I’ve covered this question a little in a previous post that was broadly about proto-indo-european/Andy-centric (check it out if you want), but I’ll give a broader survey of each character here.

A Quick Aside on Lykon: We don’t know enough about this character, and the fact that the comics and movie diverge so sharply does not help at all. I’m going to headcannon that he was from Eastern Africa, where most archaeologists agree that modern humans first appeared in the Horn of Africa aka modern Ethiopia and Somolia and neighbors, and predates Andy by ~3,000 years. For future purposes below and assuming a birth date for Andy in the range ~5,000BCE - 4,000BCE, this puts his birth at around ~8,000BCE - 7,000BCE. This is wild speculation, however. Maybe the early immortals should be spaced by warfare types (Stone Age, Bronze, Iron, Steel?) or maybe they pop up once a cultural region reaches a certain historic point or maybe they just sorta pop up and then live for six or seven thousands years. I’m working off the last assumption because it’s the simplest. The only thing I’m certain of is that Greg Rucka probably didn’t sit down and think this pattern through. If I’m wrong, oh well. I’m mad at him for all his historical inaccuracies. With dating from ~8,000BCE - 7,000BCE, I’m having trouble finding a name for the cultures that scientists/historians know were living there at the time. It’s probably because the region has been continually occupied since the first humans, which one can safely assume makes abandoned and undisturbed sites hard to fine.

A Quick Aside on Quynh | Noriko: I like the film better, so I’ll be working with Quynh. If there’s enough interest, I can add on Japanese for Noriko. I’m going to date Quynh to be ~1,500 years after Andy (maybe this should be the new date system, before Andy “BA” and after Andy “AA”). This puts her in the time range of ~3,500BCE - 2,500BCE which could place her in either the Đa Bút neolithic culture of modern-day Vietnam or the Phùng Nguyên bronze age culture of modern-day Vietnam. Those names are archaeological in nature, based on the location where sites have been found and dated to those ranges.

Other Origins: Because we have diverging cannons, I’m going to just state the backgrounds that I’ve assigned. Joe is from 1066CE with a background in the Arab-controlled Maghreb (more specifically, modern-day Tunisia and Northern Algeria). Nicky is from 1069CE with a background from the Italian maritime republic and city-state of Genoa. Booker is from 1770 southern France. Nile is from 1994 Chicago in the United States. Andy is from ~5,000BCE - 4,000BCE in the Caucasus (modern-day Georgia and Azerbaijan) or the South Western Eurasian Steppes, probably the Shulaveri-Shomu culture assuming that location.

The first language everyone learned, their “mother tongue” or “native language” is one that they definitely speak. It’s the language that they think in and would be hard-pressed to lose. This even includes now-dead languages, because, again, it’s the one that they learned to think with. Of course, it is possible to lose a language when you have no one to speak it with if you wanted to do something tragic, but I think that these things are too deeply ingrained for it it to happen by accident.

What Each One’s First Language Would Be:

Nile: American English, possibly African-American Vernacular English (AAVE) at home

Booker: Provençal/Occitan, possibly “standard French” (school and other places outside the home)

Nicky: Genoese Ligurian/Zeneize

Joe: Tunisian Derja/Tunisian Arabic/Tunisian, and possibly one of the dialects of the native Zenati language group based on where more precisely you place him

Quynh: Proto-Viet–Muong (which isn’t well documented because it’s so old)

Andy: Proto-Indo-European (PIE), but if you’re curious the Classical Scythian Language for which she is probably named is only off by a factor of 10 (4000 vs 400 BCE) *cue distressed sighing*

Lykon: Proto-Cushitic (also suffering a lack of documentation from being old as heck)

Other than their first languages, what else they learn depends on where they go. People learned languages back then for the same reasons that they do today: to communicate (and to read, after the invention of writing). 

Additional Confirmed or Likely Cannon Languages:

Nile: Spanish because of the American school system for sure. French is listed on the IG account, but she probably speaks only Spanish or French to a degree of fluency, definitely one better than the other. Very Basic Pashto, which we see her use some obviously-memorized phrases with in the film.

Booker: The IG promo things asserts that he knows (modern, standard) Italian and Greek. Why not? He also probably knows Spanish depending on where more specifically in southern France he is from. He’s probably also picked up on at least Very Basic Arabic from Joe and Nicky, but actually learning the language would take commitment from him. He also clearly speaks English.

Nicky: Other Italian dialects, and it would be fairly easy for him to have picked up modern Italian. He definitely reads Latin. If he was from a wealthy family, he probably also speaks Greek. If he was from a trading family, he probably speaks the trading pidgin of Sabir. The IG account confirms Arabic (vague, but okay I’ll be generous and say modern standard Arabic) and Romanche (they meant to write Romansh). I think Romansh is poorly chosen to characterize him in Northern Italy, but I’m feeling generous. He also clearly speaks English.

Joe: He definitely speaks standard Arabic to have been able to communicate with other Arabic-speakers in Jerusalem.  Genoese Ligurian/Zeneize because of the love of his life, which also means he probably picked up modern Italian at some point. The IG account confirms Farsi (they call it “Persian” *cue screaming*), which works if he was a merchant who traveled far to eastward on the Silk Road...and if you go with the comic cannon makes more sense. I’m going to say that he speaks the Mediterranean trading pidgin Sabir because of his location in Tunisia. If he was from a wealthy merchant family and could afford schooling, he probably learned Greek and maybe also Latin. There’s a good chance that he knows conversational-levels of other native Zenati languages thanks to colonialism discouraging their usage. He also clearly speaks English.

Quynh: We don’t actually know if she speaks English, but it’s safe to assume she does speak at least some of it. She’s probably learned Vietnamese and Mường because of her mastery of their proto-language. Because I see her returning to modern-day Vietnam to fight the Chinese colonization, I think that she might know Cantonese or Mandarin. Based on her travels with Andy, I’d like to propose Greek, Latin, and Mongolian. I’m sure that Andy and her share a language, but who knows which one they were each speaking when they met!

Andy: The IG account says “all,” but I’ve discussed this elsewhere (*major eye rolling*). She almost certainly picked up Scythian and Greek based on her chosen name. Latin isn’t as likely as you’d think, but is possible. I’d like to think that she’s also partial to learning Russian (or some earlier form of the language), Mongolian, and Armenian. Based on her travels with Quynh, I imagine that she speaks Cantonese or Mandarin and Vietnamese or Mu’o’ng. There is some mystery language shared with Quynh, too. She also clearly speaks English.

Lykon: I really don’t know enough about him to hazard any guesses. He should share at least one language in common with Andy and Quynh. If his date of death is ~2,000- 1,000 BCE like I’m supposing, there’s a good chance that he only speaks one or two currently-named languages. Sorry, OP.

[anonthenullifier]

I have a quote prompt, actually it’s from the first issue of the 1985 Vision and the Scarlet Witch Comic. “The Scarlet Witch is never helpless”

I love this quote! My mind went through so many options that were all really different. Hopefully you enjoy the one I settled on!

——

The cave smells of sulphur and the air is swamp-like, her hair bunching into curls with each additional minute in the humidity. “Hey, Vizh,” Wanda keeps her voice low, as calm as possible, hoping the only attention she rouses is Vision’s and not the transdimensional lava demon clomping back and forth across the cavern. Neither of them stir so she tries again, a touch louder, “Vision.” Under normal circumstances she would reach out not only to his mind but also send a tendril of scarlet to dance along his jaw, except said demon has apparently been studying them, devising vices to limit the use of their powers. Without the freedom of her hands, she finds it hard to channel her powers with enough finesse to only alert Vision, leaving her able only to feel the outermost furling of his thoughts. This is not enough for her to determine that Vision is okay, especially in his current state, his body suspended so that it is leaning forward, arms uncomfortably hoisted behind him to eliminate the chance he can turn his head and sear away the chains with the Mindstone. It reminds her of the nightmare that was aerial battle yoga with Natasha. Wanda tries to nudge his mind while defaulting to conversation in the hope he’ll respond. “I don’t know about you, but my arms are tired.”

Without even opening his eyes, he provides an autopiloted insight to her discomfort, “That would be due to the gravitational field of this planet being almost three times that of Earth.” Two seconds is all it takes before his mind seems to catch up to his surroundings, voice trembling with realization as he raises his head to look at her, “Wanda...when did you get captured?”

Time is meaningless down here, mainly because she can’t access her handheld device to determine how long it’s truly been. “Maybe half an hour ago?” This shouldn't be the point of conversation, however, her own capture not accidental by any means, but she can’t risk alerting their captor to that. “How are you holding up?”

“Rather uncomfortably, as you can no doubt observe.” If his response were a wine, she’d be puckering. At least his spirits are still intact enough to be sardonic. “Are you unharmed?”

His swing from sarcasm to unfettered anxiety dictates she give more than a nonchalant I’m fine. Unlike him, she is in a pretty basic prisoner-in-an-evil-lair position—ankles shackled to the stone wall and shoulders screaming at being suspended by the metal glove encasing both her hands. Even if she’s been here a couple hours less than him, all blood has already drained from her hands and forearms causing pins and needles to colonize under her skin. “Other than my arms, I’m not hurt.” Relief sags his body as much as the restraints allow, maybe a millimeter, but it’s enough, along with his shaky breath out, to convey his ever present concern for her over himself. It’s why she redirects to the real concern here: him. “I assume your powers aren’t working?” The chains attached to Vision’s wrists and ankles jangle morosely as he demonstrates phasing for her. The second his body flickers it is consumed by an electrical shock that sizzles along the edges of the vibranium. She finds herself wincing just so someone acknowledges how agonizing it looks. “You could have just said yes.”

The resounding clink of metal this time is due to his attempt at a shrug, “I felt it pertinent to test the efficacy of the power destabilizer in case it had malfunctioned.”

“Looked like you were trying to win the pitiful award.”

His breathy, contained snort very briefly eradicates the twinge she’s developed in her lower back. “I presume you are either a fellow victim or,” hope enters his question with a little vocal uptick, “here to enact a daring rescue?”

“That’s the plan.”

“Good...good,” they lapse into a moment of silence, “and that plan is?”

The plan was for her to get captured, as it’s the only known way into the deepest cavern and then either wait for the others to find a way to infiltrate (not even Strange’s portals capable of getting in) or she has to identify a weakness from within. It’s not a great plan but it’s what they have to work with since she refused to go another minute not knowing if Vision was okay. “Um, still finalizing it.”

“Ah, well, looking forward to it then.” If anyone else was down here with him they would likely have overlooked the subtle undercurrent of sass, assuming he was just being anticipatory, but she knows every rise and fall of his voice, every carefully planned cadence and right now he is being an ass. A very handsome ass, but an ass nonetheless.

“But now that I’m here, it’s kind of nice,” it’s not, it’s hot, it’s muggy, it’s dripping with molten rock and peppered with vents puffing up noxious gases, “like one of those spas with the hot stone massage.”

Vision does his best to examine the hellscape, neck only able to crane so far due to the angle of his suspension and the increased gravity, not even his attempts at lowering his density are successful in alleviating either impediment, “I would temper your excitement. The attendant,” he nods towards the demon who is currently pacing in front of an iridescent oval, “informed me they are fresh out of those little cucumber slices for your eyes.”

Without thinking, Wanda allows a single syllable laugh to escape her lips, an action that causes the horned, amorphous head of their captor to turn towards her, its eyes burning like two embers hanging on for life at the end of a campfire. Wanda quickly puts on a pathetic whimper, giving her chains a few good rattles and a pitiful, “Please let us go” and then waits until the demon has returned its attention to guarding the prismatic holding container before responding. “I’m knocking a star off their rating then.”

“That seems fair.”

Having confirmed Vision is relatively fine, Wanda lets them lapse back into silence, a recommendation from Carol to not be overly loquacious in case it stirred suspiciousness towards their still forming grand rescue plan, which is usually fine, one thing she loves about Vision is how easy it is to feel comfortable in silence, the gentle thrum of his mind a soothing, harmonious white noise. Except currently she can’t get deep enough into his thoughts to find reprieve. All she can experience is the echo of evenly spaced though labored breathing, the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest, and the clenching of his teeth anytime he attempts to shift his density to counteract the angle of his imprisonment. Wanda tries to tamp down the rising worry of what failure would mean, instead directing all of her own attention to feeling out the options for escape.

First she has to figure out her powers. Not only are her hands bound together in the metal glove, her fingers have been forced into fists with no room to expand. It’s uncomfortable and aggravating but also a grave misunderstanding of her abilities because sometimes finesse isn’t necessary. As controlled as she can manage, Wanda collects her powers into one concentrated ball centering in her chest, holding it steady in case she needs to utilize what Vision has lovingly deemed her supernova. No matter how impressive, however, it’s a dangerous maneuver, one she can’t risk in unstable environments, like a potentially active alien volcano. Which is why she needs to channel the man next to her and be patient. Assess everything. This would be easier if her arms didn’t feel like they were about to fall off.

“Um Wanda…”

Her Yeah? shrivels into terrified nothingness the second she raises her eyes, the lumbering form of their captor oozing over towards Vision. Behind it the shining oval and prismatic container are blindingly bright. That’s never a good sign. Neither is the way it reaches a coal colored hand towards Vision. “Don’t touch him.” There’s a snort, dismissive and loud and like a million steam engines erupting all at once If Wanda had her hands free, she’d use them to cover her ears, the world around her muffled now, even her own breaths sounding distant and unconnected from her.

The demon doesn’t listen to her, a solitary finger delicately (as delicately as a monstrous entity can) touching the Mindstone. The stone lights up in response. Based on the shock spreading across Vision’s face and rippling through his body, he is not in control of it. She has made the stone betray him before, and still lives with that guilt, still remembers the way he described it to her, the suffocating realization that he lacked control over such an integral aspect of himself. She’ll be damned to allow anyone else to make him feel it again.

“Stop!” Horrified, she watches the demon ignore her, beckoning the Mindstone energy forward in a docile beam, inching it along with malicious encouragement even as Vision thrashes against his restraints. Clearly the time for planning is over. “I said stop!”

The demon's head swings towards her and she almost screams, the crackling skin of their captor close enough for her to gaze into the smoldering eyes studying her. She imagines standing in the middle of a raging forest fire would be more comforting than the depths of hell in its pupils. “Accept your fate, little witch.” The words spoken are not the ones she hears, its voice akin to the shattering of an entire hutch of china during a tornado, a tinkling of shards as they get whisked away in the howling wind, and yet she understands it, likely some form of mental translation Dr. Strange told them existed in other beings. It’s awe-inspiring while also being a complete ass.

Wanda meets its eyes and glares. “Only if you accept your fate.”

It laughs, wings expanding out across the entire cavern, shaking as if it has heard a joke for the first time in eons. “You,” it bends low, the heat of its body drawing droplets of sweat along her forehead, “are helpless here.”

“You are going to regret that.” For a man who only seconds ago was fighting for his life, Vision’s gleeful taunt enlivens in her the last bit of strength she needs.

Wanda siphons his confidence into herself, unlocking the core of her power as she sets up her daring rescue at last. “You made two mistakes today.” The transdimensional demon lacks hair and any sort of eyebrows, but that doesn’t stop the distinct feeling of it raising them in disbelief. “First,” Wanda leans forward as much as the chains allow, “you kidnapped and tortured the love of my life. And second,” scarlet begins seeping through her body, crackling along her skin as she speaks, “you assumed I was helpless,” the plan was to cause as little harm as possible, the terrain unstable, the power of this demon unknown, but that’s too soft a punishment for a being that doubts her might, that thinks it can control her, that tried to take from her and think she wouldn’t fight back. Wanda makes sure the demon is looking directly at her when she invokes its fate . “The Scarlet Witch is never helpless.”

As the last word falls from her lips, she allows her powers to erupt.

Oiled hands knead up and down Wanda’s arm, applying the perfect amount of pressure to alleviate the last of her aches. There’s a lovely waft of chamomile each time she breathes in and a soothing melody of some nondescript instrumental track. Even more peaceful is the ebb and flow of Vision’s thoughts, her powers greedily deep in his mind. It’s why she’s able to smile in anticipation of his next comment.

“I agree with you.”

Wanda stays face down, far too relaxed to even think about moving, “Obviously,” a little snort comes from her left, guiding her lips up higher into victory, “what specifically?”

“I just finished the report,” only Vision would consider mission reports a comfort read, “Dr. Strange is still perturbed with your methods.”

In her mind there was no inkling of doubt their de facto mission leader was seething, mostly due to the forty minute lecture she received on excessive use of powers, but rarely does he allow it to seep into ink for everyone to read. “I think he’s jealous.”

What she expects is an airy laugh and then a gentle rebuttal, instead she is delivered a treat, “I do believe that is part of it.” Wanda apologizes to the masseuse as she props herself up to look over at Vision, tickled at the unadulterated relaxation before her. He’s engulfed in a snowy white robe while reclined in a chair, a hot towel wrapped around his head with two little cucumber slices on his eyes that look like lifeboats in the waves of the clay mask slathered on his face. When he talks it forms little cracks in the mask, “You achieved a feat he could not, anyone would experience at least a speck of jealousy.”

“Even you?”

“If I had been in his position?” the cracks splinter in six different branches as he contemplates. “Yes, even me. But,” gingerly he reaches up and lifts a cucumber, allowing her to see the swirling gear of his iris, “given I was not in his position, I, instead, am able to appreciate how very fortunate I am to be loved by such a stunningly powerful woman.” A flirty little wink is sent her way before the cucumber drops back into place.

Wanda grins, cheeks rising high enough to hurt a little, as she settles back into the massage table. After all these years that little boyish grin and wink of his urges her heart to beat a hair faster. Maybe she lied in the cavern, overstated the level of helplessness she can experience, because no matter the circumstance, she will always be helplessly in love with Vision. A fact that doesn’t weaken her, can never tame her, one instead that challenges her to understand and harness her powers even more because the universe will never stop trying to take from her, will relentlessly pursue her happiness. This she won’t stand for anymore. Whatever comes next, no matter how intimidating or powerful, she will be ready to yet again prove that the Scarlet Witch is not so easily crossed.

[ask-iamnotanalicorn]

Previous: The Flim Flam Timeline

The Wasteland Timeline:

This is the story of when Equestria fell.

And this it the story of when Equestria rose again.

The trials began as they always do: with the return of Nightmare Moon. The celestial sisters clashed, and Celestia fell. Heedless of the struggle it would be to keep the Sun set with its alicorn princess banished inside it, Nightmare Moon did just that, determined that her traitorous sister experience Nightmare’s punishment.

Nightmare’s reign of Equestria was strained, but Equestria could have borne it. But within a year, the capital was attacked by the Changelings, desperate to replenish their stores of pony love that had been stymied by the nation’s state of fear and uncertainty. Nightmare Moon was barely managing to repel the threat when the Crystal Empire returned, and King Sombra began to march on her northern borders. With attacks from within and attacks from without, a distrusted leader on the throne, and economic failure rippling across the country as readily as the shifting front lines, the ponies of Equestria were more torn than ever.

So of course that’s when Discord escaped.

The upside of Discord’s release was that it temporarily stopped the fighting. Even King Sombra was smart enough to withdraw in the face of the mad draconequus on a quest of vengeance against all ponies. Queen Chrysalis and Queen Nightmare Moon (who had absconded herself at first sign of Discord’s escape, using every possible trick to keep him from finding her) formed a temporary peace treaty in order to seek a solution - for a world ruled by Discord was useless to all of them. (Granted, the Changelings could withdraw to their protected realm, but Chrysalis had tasted power and wasn’t about to let Discord have it all. She was quite looking forward to stabbing Nightmare Moon in the back afterwards.)

Their solution: a magical contract with the long-imprisoned centaur, Tirek. Tirek was more than happy to oblige. He single-handedly decimated Sombra’s troops, gorging himself on the magic of Crystal Empire and Equestrian ponies alike. It is possible that, if Discord hadn’t come to see what all the fuss was about himself, Tirek would have kept right on gorging to the very limit of the contract that bound him.

When the two titans clashed, the battle that ensued sundered hundreds of miles of landscape. Canterlot bore the greatest brunt; the castle collapsed completely from its cliffside home, the city little more than ruins. Discord’s attacks spread wildly unpredictable waves of chaos magic across much of Equestria. And when at long last Tirek had defeated him and sucked him dry, the lingering effects of that chaos magic stayed rooted in the ground like weeds.

It seemed, for the briefest moment, as if the worst problem was over. But of course, a power-maddened Tirek is a worse threat - because at least Discord doesn’t go out of his way to destroy everything in sight. Drunk on chaos magic, Tirek easily broke the tenuous contract with the queens and set across the landscape, draining ponies by the thousands and carving swaths through the countryside for the sheer wicked joy of destruction. His power was even mighty enough to destroy the changeling hive, overpowering its magical protections.

There was no choice - the two remaining rulers of any species in the land had to either defeat their own creation or face the loss of all they held dear. Nightmare Moon called upon the power of the Moon itself, drawing it nearer to Equestria in a desperate gambit. Tidal waves rocked Equestria’s coastlines, submerging Manehattan and other coastal cities entirely, and the alicorn of the night shone with deadly moonlit radiance as she bombarded Tirek with the full brunt of her power. But even Nightmare Moon at the height of her power was not strong enough to stop Tirek at the height of his, and he struck her down against the surface of the Moon itself. Some of the dislodged chunks rained down on the world, damaging more of not only Equestria, but many other countries on that side of the planet.

Tirek seemed to have won; all he had left to deal with was one small, angry changeling queen. An assured victory, no doubt.

He could not have known how wrong he was. For a changeling might give its magic willingly to a spell like Tirek’s with no ill effects, but an unwilling changeling queen will not be robbed of her power easily. As Tirek’s powers drain magic, so changeling powers drain love - and no one in all the world had such self-love as Tirek. The cycle of Tirek draining her magic and Chrysalis draining his became a self-consuming spell spiral that ultimately imploded upon itself, taking both creatures with it.

The resulting explosion could be heard across the celestial sea. For a few moments, there was something like an artificial sun on the horizon - a sun that had set directly on Equestria.

Then came the silence. After three years of war, devastation, and disasters unlike any the world had ever seen, there was silence.

And as the silence stretched, the survivors stirred.

Earth ponies, pegasi, unicorns, crystal ponies, and zebras; yaks, cows, goats, donkeys, and buffalo; gryphons, dragons, hippogryphs, minotaurs, and changelings: in spite of everything, many had survived. They rose from their hiding places to find an Equestria and Crystal Empire in ruins. No major cities still stood; borders and coastlines were unrecognizable. Large swaths of land once green and lush were barren and blasted, and spots of chaos magic lay in wait for creatures unwise enough to enter them unprotected. The moon hung wrecked in a dark sky, shining in shattered glory down on the devastation that had been the once-rich land of Equestria.

But the great destroyers were gone. None of the titans and tyrants who had brought this destruction down on the country remained. The usual monsters hardly seemed a threat anymore; those who had survived thus far had learned to cope with far worse. They could build new settlements, make new ways of life, come together or fall apart on their own merits.

And the most hopeful sign of all came the next day. The first actual day since Nightmare Moon returned and the Thousand Days of Woe began:

The Sun - weak and red in the dust-filled sky - slowly rose over the horizon.

The Princess of the Sun had not returned yet; perhaps she is still trapped by her sister’s spell. Perhaps another way of escape is being laid. But the light fills the ponies’ hearts with hope.

The Equestria they knew is gone. But the New Equestria has a future.

____

Sunday, Aug.10, 4 A.C.

Dear Journal,

It’s really strange dating things this way; but with everything that’s happened, most folks agree it’ll be easier to date our calendars starting with the fall of Princess Celestia. ‘After Celestia’ sounds so grim, though; kinda hope we change it. Maybe when the Princess returns... we’re praying she does.

Anyway, I still can’t believe we found a whole stock of blank paper in the storerooms! We’re saving most of it for bartering, but Mom thinks it’s smart for one of us to make notes for posterity, so it looks like I get to keep you. I’ll try to be short to save space, but it just feels so good to write again!

The move into the Canterlot ruins ruins is going pretty well. A few other families joined us after our last trip to Apple Fort, and we’ve shored up our defenses in case the air pirates make another flyby. Pop and I negotiated a deal with the Apples - food in exchange for books. A few of the unicorns know replication spells and are using some of the paper to make copies of really important texts so we don’t lose valuable knowledge to an accident. It still blows my mind how much we’ve lost in... was life really normal only a few years ago? It feels like another lifetime that I was in this very city, talking to the Princess, sitting at a normal cafe... eating lunch with Cam and Press...

I don’t want to forget them. Camera Shy and Pressing Matters, my best friends. Maybe they’re still out there somewhere. We run into old friends every now and then - my old traveling salespony gig has come in handy, actually! I’ve found a bunch of people who used to be clients, it really helps with forming trade and peace treaties with other groups. So it could happen. Please, Prince, keep them safe wherever they are.

I’m really blessed, though. I have to remember that. I have Mom and Pop and Black and Per and Chewie - although I’m still not used to Chewie flying and talking now. She’s such a character. Lots of ponies are missing family - so are we, we haven’t been able to find most of the extended family, but Pop got word from Aunt Pitter that she and my cousin Light Drizzle are out west somewhere, and Pitch Apple is down at Apple Fort, thank the King.

And we could be worse! We made friends with a tinkerer named Steam Punk, he made me a new wing that works as good as my old one! (Not a HUGE bar to cross, but it’s still really impressive!) I’m talking him into working with me to start a production house that can make and sell them affordably to other handicapped pegasi. And Mom got her flight back thanks to a gem Black and some other mages crafted. I think she still misses her diving mark, but she’s so brave and optimistic, it really inspires everyone. I wish we could do something for Pop’s horn, but he’s finding other ways to help out. Per is... well, I guess if you’re going to get turned into a pony-dragon, you’d want to be as cheerful about it as Per. Who knows, maybe she’ll still get a cutie mark someday! And Black is fully aware that he looks pretty boss with an eyepatch, the dork. 

There’s rumors that Princess Cadance might be alive and organizing the crystal ponies up North; lots of ponies are heading that way, but I think our group will stay here. There’s a lot of resources in the Canterlot ruins and in the castle, although Black leads the expeditions into the castle because of safety issues. I never knew he was so good at exploration and such; guess there were a few skills he was holding out on us over the years, but turns out he was working for the Princess before! What in Equus, I gave him such an earful for being all secretive about being my bodyguard or whatever. 

I’m running out of page, so I’ll wrap up today. We’re holding a worship service later, Pop and Parson Brown are setting it up. We want to keep focusing on what we have to be thankful for. We are GOING to get through this. The King, the Prince, and the Advocate have not abandoned us, and we have each other. 

~Salespitch

----

Fun Facts About The Wasteland Timeline:

- This was my favorite timeline to draw =D I HAD to get some steampunk stuff in there, although there are definitely Mad Max vibes. The convenient thing about this timeline is that it was a literal blank slate, so I could really get creative with it! I feel like this would make a neat bookmark, what do ya’ll think?

- I tried to reference all the major villains in the picture. Extra shoutout to ReversalMushroom, the patron who sponsored this Alternate Timeline Special, for giving me the ideas for the changeling goo and Tirek’s hoofprints, which were added in during the coloring phase. I think they round it out quite nicely!

- The random bit of Candy Forest over the crevice there is one of the pockets left behind by Discord’s chaos magic going wild. Most ponies avoid it because here’s WEIRD stuff in there, and ponies who go in there usually come out a little weirder themselves. 

- Black lost his eye and half his sunglasses in a fight with some Changelings. He gets on quite well with only one eye, though, and he insists his sunglass-lens eyepatch is going to be the height of eyepatch fashion. (He DOES have a sense of humor in case anyone doubted it. ;) ) Black taught everyone basic survival techniques and does most of the more dangerous tasks.

- Sales lost his wing during Tirek’s rampage; he tried to distract Tirek, but they didn’t have time to make the plan from the Tirek timeline, so he got swatted pretty quickly. On the upside, Tirek lost sight of him and didn’t get his magic. Sales can fly about as well now with his new steampunk wing, which combines technology and magic to mimic low-level pegasus flight (which was where he was at anyway, so he made a great first test subject!) Sales’ main job is  negotiating peaceful trades with other groups.

- Sales Patter (Dad) lost his horn while pushing his wife out of the way of some falling rubble. He insists he was only mediocre at magic anyway, and he doesn’t need a horn to do business! He does miss it, though. He helps their new community with allocating resources.

- Pitch Forward (Mom) lost her magic and cutie mark to Tirek’s onslaught. The gem in her coat simulates flight for her, although not quite at the level she was before. She and Sales joke about how he can almost beat her in a race now. She helps with the kids in their small community and teaches flying techniques to pegasi.

- Pitch Perfect got hit with a random blast of Discord magic that turned her half dragon. It took a little getting used to, but she honestly thinks it is super neat. She’s pretty good at sniffing out gems now, which (when she isn’t eating them) helps with family finances. Her friends Codebreak and Castle Crasher are part of their little community, and the three are constantly getting into trouble (which most everyone silently thinks of as a nice bit of familiarity.)

- Chewie ALSO got Discord’d; she has fairy wings now and she can talk. Chewie still likes Sales the best and hovers around him chattering like Navi half the time. The other half of the time she forgets she has wings and just hops around exploring. At this point she’s become less like a pet and more like another tiny sister, to Per’s delight and everyone else’s raised anxiety levels. She is VERY aware of her surroundings and alerts the group to intruders and strangers. She really misses computer games.

- Princess Celestia will eventually return, although by that time I feel that the various groups gathering together will have formed something like a decent society again. It remains to be seen if they’ll go back to a monarchy, create a government of connected micronations, or turn into something like the United States.

- And yes, Camera Shy, Pressing Matters, and Press’s husband Curler are all alive. They’ll meet up someday!

---

A/N: Thank you all for joining me on this journey through time and space to explore the seven MLP timelines and where Sales & Co might have ended up in them! I hope you enjoyed it; I had a good bit of fun coming up with the different scenarios, it was a great brain exercise. =D Thank you again to all my Patrons, and to ReversalMushroom for sponsoring this particular special! There will be a final post next week of all the pictures together, with links back to their storyline posts.

I also want to thank you for bearing with me as the regular updates continue to be on hiatus. This has been a rough and strange year for all of us, and I hope you all are safe and healthy and know that you are loved. Jesus has really been with me through this year, and even tonight as I write this; there are things I struggle with, but I know that they do not define my value, HE does. =) And I, like Sales, want to count my blessings, the biggest one (aside from my faith in God) being that I have family around me who love me and care for me. I’m very much looking forward to Christmas! =D  

Merry Christmas! May your Christmas and New Year contain joy and peace, and may Christ Jesus rest His hands on you and draw your heart to His. In Jesus’ Name, amen.

~River Babble

[thekrawratalksbnha]

the “undo” button: eri in bnha (aka me trying not to scream about the todorokis before the translations come out so here have eri instead)

so with mirio back in action and the knowledge that eri’s quirk is now capable to be used by our heroes (at least sometimes), i wanted to talk a bit about the type of plot device eri is. because while she does have room for personality and development, her main purpose in the story up to this point has been predominately focused on her quirk.

and there seems to be a lot of mixed opinions — largely because eri’s quirk does seem to operate as an undo button now for our heroes. and i’m not mad about mirio getting his quirk back, and i’m not even mad that eri’s quirk is part of this story now.

“undo” buttons  by themselves aren’t inherently bad, like a lot of other plot devices it largely comes down to how exactly they are handled and executed. a good usage of the device can improve the story by putting the characters in difficult positions, giving false hope and quite frankly raising the stakes. a bad usage does the exact opposite.

so how should you use an “undo” button and how does is it being done in bnha?

when introducing the “undo” button, the redo optioon, the get out of jail free card, into your story, you have to set the terms that the button can be used in. we’ve already started to see this with eri — we know her quirk is based on the power that comes from/is stored in her horn and can rewind people.

so it’s not necessarily an instant redo power and while i am wary of it — i hope it can be executed well. how can it be best executed? there’s a few options.

give both heroes and villains access to the power. admittedly this has already been done kinda of as eri started with overhaul and is the source of the quirk erasing bullets. having said that — if both sides get too much access to the ability than it becomes ineffective. so this alone doesn’t really help. nonetheless by allowing both the heroes and the LOV to have some degree of access to eri’s abilities, it serves to help balance the scales between the groups and keep tensions high.

set hard limits on the power. make it clear as to what exactly the power can do — for example: can eri rewind the dead? as well as setting either that it can only be used so many times (ie there’s a limited number of quirk erasing bullets) or that it can only be used so often: as eri’s horn grows and shrinks as she uses her power — establish that she can only use her power to do one big rewind for a certain duration. however there is a caveat to that working, namely:

put time constraints on the effectiveness. establish that the further back you have to rewind someone — the more dangerous it is. make it so that to some extent the degree of effectiveness isn’t unlimited. this cam lead you to situations in which…

force your characters to choose who gets access to it. if eri can only use her power on let’s say one person from the whole war arc: who gets it? who do they prioritize and who do they leave to the side. who is fundamentally important enough that they get to be rewound while everyone else is left as they are. this is most effective if the last point is implemented because then there’s no waiting line. it’s now or never.

have situations that it doesn’t cover. for example: while eri could in theory rewind any injuries (ie aizawa’s leg, deku’s arms, hawks’ wings), she can’t rewind dabi’s video/reveal. so it’s not a universal undo.

there’s more but the point is, in general the more restrictions set on the ability and the more those restrictions force characters to make difficult decisions the more interesting/beneficial the power is. the less restrictions — the lower stakes are, and the less tensions there is because a reader (and the characters for that matter) know that it won’t stick.

that’s why “undo” buttons are such dangerous plot devices. look at deku’s final fight with overhaul — deku could use OFA at full power without consequence, he was basically invincible. in fact the threat by the end wasn’t even overhaul — it was eri’s control.

and the thing that worries me about eri is there is a lot of restrictions on her abilities now, because her losing control is disastrous and she doesn’t have too much control at the moment. however, bnha likes to train up its heroes. so if the more eri improves, the more restrictions on the ability disappear, that could make the “undo” button fears founded.

personally: i don’t really enjoy giving characters access to “undo” buttons. it’s why i don’t like time travel plots. i’m not a fan of giving characters get out of jail free cards, unless they’ve really really really worked for them and can only be used once. and it’s hard to predict where eri’s role in the story is going. but it’s not always a bad thing, so for the time being. she’s got my benefit of the doubt.

i just hope she can be utilized well. also i’m happy power boy mirio is back so i guess we can only see where it goes from here.

(disclaimer time: these are pretty general comments based on my own opinions and study into narrative. by no means are they universal though! good stories can use this plot device freely and still make it work -- bad stories can put restrictions on it and it doesn’t work at all. that’s part of why it’s such a difficult device to work with and anyone who does always gets my standing ovation - i really hope this story is one of them.)

-

(next time on yelling about bnha 29-whatever chapter we are on: more todoroki family ranting — ft. deku! i promise i’ll be back on my todoroki rants soon: i just have to cry about the attempted murder hug and wait for translations.)

[nlrpg]

homecoming weekend: Capture The Flag !!

As the sun begins to set on the west coast, Nemean Lion’s campus begins to welcome more guests into the Demicenter. Visitors with a ticket to Capture The Flag receive a bracelet that allows them entry into the campus’ Arena, a first for the public in Nemean Lion’s history. A magical portal created just for today grants them transportation from the Demicenter to the Arena, as NL takes its precautions and doesn’t allow a chance for them to snoop around other restricted parts of the campus. The bracelets they wear give them access to only the Arena, which shouldn’t be a problem, because who would want to be anywhere else during the main event?

Fit like one of the world’s best arenas, the stands allow for an audience of about 20,000, and today’s event is sold out. The center field is slightly larger than usual, however, and for now sits as flat, grassy turf. There’s a steady roar of the thousands of fans in the Arena, which include most of the demigods and their families in front row seats, here to cheer on their members. NL Administration, including manager and CEO, sit in box seats to watch over the members in their care and make sure this goes well. And just like advertised, the event is televised, and a magically experienced crew are all set up around the Arena, streaming live to millions of devices around the world.

Music and fanfare begins to sound throughout the Arena as the two teams enter the field, led by the two team captains. Falling in line behind captain Theo Choi of Team A are Juniper Johnson, Drew Suh, July Chin, Grace Marshall, Viola Lovera, Ezra Stokes, Narumi Kato, Jesse Garcia, Vera Marshall, James Koo, Minjeong Park, Regan Morgan, Alessio Castellani, Charla Lee, and Axel Green. On the other side stands Team B, comprised of Nick Spencer, Safiye Bennet, Cyrus Tan, Simon Hong, Mira Funetes, Prim Tran, Mayumi Ishida, Stormie Burbank, Tristan Day, Gigi Gautier, Carly Serrano, Pandora Liu, Ace Aguilar, Holly Sharp, and Kennedy Xun all captained by Cynthia Byun.

Once both teams stand ready on either side, Marina gives a cue, and a low rumble echoes throughout the venue. The turf begins to morph before everyone’s eyes, transforming the flat field into a forest landscape, the work of their own extremely skilled manager who’s power most people don’t see too often. Hills and trees begin to cover the distance between the two teams, until neither can see their opponents, a vast forest landscape shrouding each other from view. Clad in armor, donning their weapons, and with abilities at the ready, it’s almost time to begin.

Floating above the open roof of the Arena are honorary white marble thrones gilded in gold. Twelve, to be exact, though they sit empty as they always have on days of events like these, only ever a show of courtesy, a sign of respect to the gods that watch over them. Or, at least, that’s how it’s always been in the past.

An almost imperceptible hum begins to stir in the air, raising the hair of everyone’s arms, and somehow commanding a hush across the stadium. Marina Ren and Daphne Saengmai share a surprised but knowing glance just as light begins to shine bright from the skies. In a golden haze, ethereal figures begin to materialize in the noble thrones above the Arena, though not every seat becomes occupied, as everyone below counts six otherworldly figures. Their faces are somehow shrouded by both shadow and light, features undetectable, and to the mortals they have no idea who is who, only that for almost all of them, they’re in the presence of gods for the very first time. The demigods, however, know the order of those thrones by heart, and know which gods now watch above them.

Demeter. Ares. Apollo. Artemis. Aphrodite. Hermes.

Marina smiles once up at them, takes a steadying breath, then brings her attention back down to the field. She gives the signal, a horn blows, and the game begins.

Team A sprints into action, sending its slew of offensive players into the forest. Theo Choi leads them, weapon in hand, running through the forest to act as the first barrier of defense, and as soon as she finds members from the other team, her sword clashes with Mayumi Ishida, who leads offense as well for Team B.

The Team A captain is flanked by July Chin and Jesse Garcia, who though not heroes, hold their own against Mayumi and her own backup, Mira Funtes, who are unfortunately outnumbered. Besides, this first scrap is only the first defense.

The two huntresses of Team B, Gigi Gautier and Ace Aguilar use their tracking abilities and experience from training with the hunt to dart quickly and quietly through the forest, looking for the easiest pathway to Team A’s red flag for the rest of their teammates, then throw an arrow into the sky as signal. They have to be excellent, after all, their lady is watching.

Their teammates, Safiye Bennet and Stormie Burbank see the signal and begin heading towards the direction, escaping most of the scuffle in the middle of the Arena. Grace Marshall, propelled in higher view with her aerokinesis, catches it too and sends a signal to her own teammate. Ezra Stokes holds a piece of tech in his hands as he runs towards Grace’s signal, the device able to scan for heat signatures and when it picks up the daughter of Aphrodite and daughter of Dionysus heading toward what should be a clear path, they come head to head with him and Viola Lovera, ready for combat.

Thankfully, Simon Hong of Team B had also caught his team’s signal, and darts past them unseen, using his shadow travel for increments at a time. He gets to the clearing of Team A’s flag and then finally to the flagpole itself. He grabs the opponent’s bright red flag, about to step into his shadow travel to get it back to his side of the field, but before he can make it out, gets clothes-lined by Alessio Castellani and a broad-staff, who tries to wrench his team’s flag out from his grasp.

Though her teammate is down, Holly Sharp comes upon the scene and knows the objective is victory and grabs the red flag from Simon, and before anyone can stop her, begins to use her enhanced speed to get out of danger’s way and head back into her team’s direction.

In the middle of the forest, Team A’s Minjeong Park, Vera Marshall, and Regan Morgan are tucked behind tree trunks, peeking out to sling arrows across the way, aimed at the trunks hiding their opponents, Pandora Liu and Tristan Day, who fire arrows back just as quickly.

But when a well-hidden Axel Green conjures up some sunlight in Tristan’s face, the Team B archer misfires, hitting Holly in the thigh on her journey back, and everyone springs into action for the flag in her hand.

When the first member of Team A makes it to the clearing that holds Team B’s blue flag, James Koo finds it unguarded, and foolishly begins to reach for it. But a very quiet-footed and stealthy Carly Serrano pops up from seemingly nowhere and lulls him into a gentle sleep before he can do it. This strategy might’ve continued to work if Narumi Kato hadn’t been expertly observing from the treeline, and dashes in next, knocking Carly to the ground with a well-timed shove before she can stop him from grabbing the blue flag.

However, Nick Spencer also springs from the treeline and races after him into the forest, attempting to protect his team’s flag. The two boys catch each other and parry blows and strikes, and just as Nick is about to take the upper hand, Drew Suh and Charla Lee of Team A help their teammate.

Noticing their teammate is in need, Kennedy Xun joins the fray and attempts to sword fight with the rest of them, but quickly ends up knocked harshly back by Charla, tripping on a tree root and spraining their ankle in the process, down for the count. Nick stops to help his friend, but not before focusing hard on Drew who now has the flag and mind controlling him into dropping it. It works, though thanks to his limits, it also sends him down.

Prim Tran of Team B leaps into view, running towards her team’s blue flag to try to save it, and that’s precisely when Team A’s Juniper Johnson descends like a bat out of hell. Donned in black streaks of war-paint on her cheeks that absolutely no one asked her to wear, she charges terrifyingly towards the blue flag, butting Prim with her shield to block her, and snatches it up, running back in the direction of her team’s field.

She’s a mighty opponent, ditching the shield and brandishing her combat knives like a demon, she makes it past Cyrus Tan who attempts to block her with a wave of water from the small stream she leaps over.

She makes it past the middle of the field where the largest cluster of demigods still fight over the red flag, zipping past, only a passing thought to those in the brawl who don’t notice the royal blue cloth in her clutch.

When she finally hits the clearing, finding almost no one there, she’s nearly victorious. Until, previously hidden in shadow, emerges Cynthia Byun, longsword in hand. Team B’s captain, having been lurking with her umbrakinesis, uses this one last opportunity to keep Team A from winning. Though her opponent is a graduated hero, and this captain is only in training, they exchange blows almost well-matched. Cyntha’s longsword clangs time and time again with Juniper’s combat knives, managing to disarm one of them and slash an clean streak against the daughter of Hecate’s upper arm.

Expending one last feat of strength, Juniper uses some magic to cast up an illusion of shadow, as if she might have duplicated Cynthia’s own power, and it confuses her opponent and shields herself just enough to buy the one second she needs to fake in one direction and the lunge toward the golden flagpole. Cynthia, only allowing herself that one brief moment of doubt, dashes forward with her longsword in the direction she knows Juniper would have chosen, feeling her blade connect on the downstroke with the flesh of Juniper’s leg. But it’s just too far and just too late. Juniper has secured the other team’s blue flag onto the golden pole.

A triumphant horn sounds, and the speakers blare.

“Game! Team A has won this match of Capture The Flag!”

The crowd erupts into roaring cheers, Team A celebrates as Team B accepts the loss, the foliage and terrain of the landscape morphs back into a grassy field as the speakers continue to announce the victory.

Healers begin to jog onto the field, tending to the wounds and injuries of all the players, and Marina has already made her way down, beginning to congratulate and shake the hands of the victors, and thank the defeated team for a job well done.

The cameras pick up the crowd happily cheering in support, the pridefully exhausted faces of all the team members, and Marina’s smiling face thanking everyone for coming out tonight as music continues to sound and confetti falls all around the glamorous Arena. The view of the lens pans up to try to catch a glimpse of the gods above, but apart from a lingering light they leave behind, they’re already gone.

Game well played! Rest up, demigods, enjoy the night with your families, and we’ll see you all for the Homecoming Dance tomorrow!