#i either need to do some intel and find out if that person genuinely does run the kickboxing; or just sign up for the mma

[fingertipsmp3]

How do I steer my friend who wants to learn a martial art with me towards karate and/or kickboxing without admitting that the only reason I don’t want to do MMA is because I’ll probably break my nails by punching stuff

[sol-consort]

heyy its the Jack hc’s anon. I was thinking like affection/fluff hc’s about her and Shepard(either Renegade or Paragon) Cannon gives us so little about her apart from the 1 scene in me2 and m3 :(( Or maybe a scenario of a Renegade!Shepard actually taking up her offer to go pirate after the Suicide mission instead of heading to Earth? She’s such a ride or die of a person that i can 100% see it happening. Now that I’m replaying the games actually (just finished 2 again) it seems so out of character for like 80% of the crew to just give Shepard up with little to no fight or maybe that’s just my opinion. I have a. love/hate relationship with the writing of the end of ME2. What are your thoughts on it?( or maybe im just heading in with too much expectation after playing BG3)

a little personal headcannon of mine is that she writes Shepard short poems but refuses to show them to anyone :)

Alright, I've added fluffy Jack headcanons to my list! I'll post it in some days.

And omfg yes! Poetry! I've read the Shadowbroker intel on her and god her poem was actually good. It's so endearing how she managed to find an artistic release for her emotions, especially with how much she tries hard to appear tough on the surface.

I see her writing down her emotions on Shepard since the first time her heart fluttered, and up to the time she actually admitted her feelings. How she's not used to this. Sex is just sex, nothing big. But love? Actual love? She feels like a fish out of water. Very clumsily trying to find her way through this.

For the pirate thing, I actually theorise that she didn't mean it when she first suggested it. That she just said that to get Shepard to leave Cerberus and maybe Jack planned to bacstab you afterwards.

But Ironically, the more she got to know you afterwards, the more she fell in love and the pirate offer with her as your executionor starting sounding a little too sincere. What started as a manipulation tactic, quickly evolved into a genuine dream of hers that she hoped you wouldn't forget.

For Paragon Shepard, they do surrender themselves to the alliance right? I'm not sure what Renegade Shepard does but I don't think they'd want to make themselves a wanted war criminal on the run, Renegade priorities their self interest first and still holding onto their hero fame and statues by complying with the alliance seems the most self serving even if they hate it.

I romanced Thane, and he mentioned that he tried to get in touch, but the Alliance blocked all his attempts. And he's like a master assassin. He never uses his real name or leaves a trail behind. So imagine how intense the security must have been around Shepard.

Even Miranda needs our help to get access to the Alliance files in ME3. Miranda. The Alliance really are no joke, and even Cerberus struggle with them, so imagine being one pirate on the run from them.

I assume everyone else also tried to get into contact with Shepard but got blocked or stopped before anything could reach their commander. Especially since Shepard was kept on earth, any alien would stand out there, and hitting the hornet's nest is never a good idea.

The only ones with the slightest chance of making it to Shepard would've been Joker, Ashley, and Kaidan.

For me the ending of ME2 with the batarians whole things just feels...forced? Like they needed Shepard to do something drastic so they threw it in. The reapers coming through the relay felt so out of place with the whole collectors thing.

Because the do come eventually, they do arrive later in ME3 so what difference did it make but make Shepard go under court for a while? They did it to delay the reapers and give people more time to prepare for the war, but no one prepared shit. They arrive and kick earth in the balls and all of thos batarians died for nothing.

I mean at least if they had died from the reapers then the blood wouldn't have been on Shepard's hands, and the rest of the galaxy would've had a little bit more time to prepare while the reapers are busy with the batarians. Earth wouldn't have been patient number zero.

If they had believed Shepard, It would've have been worth it. But they didn't, nothing changed. And now I'm just more pissed at the asair and how the favouritism they got from the protheons and the way they threw it away and hoarded knowledge.

I am also pissed at Liara's response to thussia when Shepard and Garrus both witnessed the literal same thing but oh it's okay for humans and turians to watch their planets burn, it's only bad when the poor asari have it done to them because they're hot you see :(

Like I usually adore Liara and her writing, she proves your expectations wrong at every turn but they massively dropped the ball with Thussia and making her have a breakdown over it when she hasn't showed the slightest remorse for when earth was burning or Garrus saw the city he was born in ablaze. I feel like they made her weaker on purpose just to have a scene of us comforting her, when normal Liara would've took it in stride like the soldier shadowbroker she is.

Also I adore Jack's character development in ME3 because that's exactly the direction I hoped they'd go for when I took her on the biotics field suicide mission in ME2. My vision was that I wanted to show her that she can protect others with her biotics and not just harm people.

And that's exactly what she does with her little guys, she is so protective of them and encouraging. She knows what it's like to grow up alone with no friends, she has had it worse than most kids and she felt all the pain. Yet she gave her students none of the pain, she broke the cycle of abuse by herself without our help and wanted to be a better person for them.

She wanted to become the person she needed most when she was a kid, I admire her for that.

[flanklurker]

Hello !! I ADORE your work, and I was wondering if I could request a Yoru x F!Healer!Reader with some Hurt/Comfort ?? I have this idea where : Yoru and Reader have a similar relationship as him and Phoenix (very competitive) but maybe they get into a petty argument and Yoru ofc is really cold and mean and says something totally out of line a few days before a mission (maybe Abt how she's no one's first pick when getting healed) ?? The rest of the protocol can feel the tension but don't say anything when they get to the mission location ; Eventually our team wins but as Reader does one last sweep of the area alone she finds Mirror!Yoru in bad condition, and they sort of come to an agreement that Reader will heal him (bc she can't stand to see him hurt even though she's upset w him) and then they will never speak of this again ?? Maybe some small talk and Mirror!Yoru is being surprisingly nice and gives her advice on how to approach Yoru... Once they part ways and Reader gets back to base, it slips out what happened as she's talking with Mirror!Yoru and instead of being really angry, Yoru is confused and is like "Why would you heal him / me, after all that mean shit I said to you ? Wouldn't I be the last person you look for? " and they eventually make up- bc I JUST KNOW Yoru has a hard time coming to terms with the fact people genuinely care Abt him. IM SO SORRY IF THIS IS A LOT / NOT ANYTHING YOUD WANT TO WRITE !! THANK YOU EITHER WAY <3

This prompt brought me so much joy, I’m an absolute slut for hurt/comfort pump that shit straight into my veins. Hope you like~

Yoru x Fem!Healer!Reader: Kiss and make up

Yoru wasn’t usually this pissy. Like,, you get it. He has a reputation to uphold as a hypercompetitive, cool bastard. Sure.

But making such a big deal out of not being selected for the mission to Portugal in Omega? It was clearly hitting him hard.

“Awww Yoru, don’t be such a buzzkill,” Phoenix calls over the milk jug. “Like, you know we have multiple teams right? Like, they need you for icebox. No one else can fuck around with the enemy’s intel on the ground like you can my guy.”

Yoru’s eyebrow twitches and his hands fiddle idly with the spoon in his hand. “What’s it to you, fire boy? You can barely last ten seconds when you get going, I’m surprised they’d take you anywhere.”

Phoenix lets out a low whistle. “Someone’s got his cranky pants on this morning hey.” He turns to you with a pointed look. “Good luck with that one.”

You clap Phoenix on the shoulder as he heads out from the table, and settle down next to Yoru, who maintains a stony silence.

“Yoooooru,” you call gently. He shifts with irritation, jabbing his spoon back into the cereal with a wet thunk. “Hey there, how ya doing hotshot?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know, weather girl.”

Ah, it was gonna be like that, huh.

You take a mouthful, and nonchalantly ask: “hey, you looking forward to icebox? I hear they have some pretty good recreation activities for team bonding~”

His grip tightens further. Yep, definitely pissy about it.

You continue, innocently enough: “I for one am looking forward to checking out the geodome on Omega and testing out these sweet kicks Neon got me. Thoughts?”

You gently nudge his foot under the table. A vein pops in his forehead.

“At least I’m not a pity pick, you shady bitch.”

“Hoooo~? What’s that supposed to mean, Mr Sunshine?”

“I mean I just think it’s interesting that you’re supposed to be a healer but they also had to send Sage along.” He toes the ground and prods at his food without taking any.

“Uhhh, congrats Yoru, she’s the one person here that can bring people back from the dead.”

“Yeah, she’s actually helpful when she heals. Plus she doesn’t nag.”

Okay, you were starting to get a little irritated now.

“Dude, if you stopped getting yourself into stupid situations maybe I wouldn’t have to literally tell you what to do as much. I don’t think this is a me thing.”

“Keep telling yourself that Miss Nurse. But at the end of the day if I was stuck on a mission with someone annoying, I’d want them to at least be able to bring me back to life.”

Dude, fuck this guy.

“Welp, I’ll let Sage know then,” you say, rising abruptly from your seat. “On the mission, today. That Brim didn’t put you on.”

“See you later then, Miss MVP,” he sings back at you. You ignore the bait and stalk out.

Yoru maintains a cold smile as you leave, but it’s pushed out through gritted teeth and feigned apathy.

---

As much as this mission should have you on edge, you can’t quite process the gravity of the task for all the ruminating you’ve been doing. Why did it get under your skin so much when Yoru got like this?

It wasn’t like the other agents ever through shade on your abilities—quite the opposite. Very quickly after joining, you were put on a lot of the most demanding missions alongside all the high flyers. They’ve only ever had words of praise and gratitude, and objectively you’ve guided them through many many close calls.

So why did you feel so useless about it?

You try your best to shake yourself out of it as Brim gives the lowdown. Sova, Sage and Phoenix all stand, varying degrees of agitated as you went over the plan for what seemed like the umpteenth time.

You of course have familiarised yourself with the brief well in advance, but it looks like this time even Phoenix is giving his undivided attention to Brim.

The task is simple. Split your forces and push through B-site. Destroy enemy utility as you find it, wait for smokes and neutralise anything and anyone in your path.

As you start prepping your guns, Phoenix drifts over to fix up his frenzy next to you. Preoccupied in your own thoughts, you don’t notice till he gently shoulder chucks you.

You turn around with a ‘hmm?’ and for a moment it looks like he wants to say something. But then Brim starts issuing start-up commands and the moment passes. He heads back to join Sage at the entrance to mid.

You grit your teeth, and ready your rifle. No do-overs. Just guns up and go.

---

The attack goes… better than expected. Between you and Sage, you manage to keep any injuries on the crew to a minimum. Sova’s recon is on point, Phoenix creates space and Brim makes the right calls to keep you on track.

Eventually you stand, bloodied, sweating and alive in the middle of site. Sage tends to a couple of bullet holes in Brim’s shoulder, Phoenix is brushing the soot off his shoulder.

You clock Sova limping over to Brim, looking fairly haggard and favouring his left ankle. You get the sense this was a big fight for him even after a sleepless night. You can see him gesturing out to the entrances to site, and Brim pursing his lips in thought, clearly weighing something over. God. The man doesn’t rest.

You weigh up your options and sigh, eventually going over to put a gentle hand on Sova’s back, careful to avoid the deep gash in his right shoulder.

“C’mon owl boy, I’ve still got some recon stuff up my sleeve. Let me handle this one yeah?”

Sova’s noises of protest are quickly cut off as Brim chimes in: “That’d be great actually, kid. Just a regular sweep, and Kay/0’s on radar in case anything big comes up.” He shoots you a grateful look.

You can see Sova mulling things over, before eventually he accedes to Brim’s command. “Stay safe, dove.”

“You know me,” you call back over your shoulder, reloading your ammo and adjusting your straps. “If trouble finds me, she runs.”

You set to work, clearing area by area. You marvel at the architecture, embedded with radianite that now lays dormant in the walls and balustrades. Most of the technology resembles yours, but occasionally you come across wirings and contraptions that you haven’t seen back on your home world, even in Killjoy’s lab.

May as well snap a few pictures then. You’re sure she and Cypher would appreciate a couple of schematics.

Poised with your phone in hand, a very subtle shift from the corner of the room sets your hairs on end. Shit. You were pretty sure the team had cleared everything, but what if…?

Better safe than sorry. Taking a deep breath in, you send a warm pulse of energy out into the aether, seeing what pings.

One life form. Faint.

You swear under your breath and creep forward. You’re generally pretty quiet but you weren’t exactly operating on the basis that someone would be around to hear you when you started live-blogging your whereabouts. As you round the corner, you find a bloodied form, eyes very much open and staring at you.

Ugh. Of course it had to be him.

The mirror Yoru looks under you and mutters something you can just make out to be… ‘Fuck me. Really? Her?’

“Hey there pretty boy,” you murmur. He smiles wryly at the nickname, but can’t quite bite back a bloodied cough that wracks his body for a good ten seconds.

“Woah woah woah,” you say, instinct taking over as you crouch beside him and brace his back. He flinches a little at the touch before you snap back and realise that this isn’t your Yoru, this is the enemy. Fuck.

“What, you gonna play around before you kill me,” Yoru grimaces. You draw back, uncertain, and he taps the centre of his forehead. “The you I know would make it quick.”

Oof. Hearing him say that out loud was pretty jarring. You were supposed to kill him. He expected you to.

You swear again, and bend down once more to draw level with him, doing a quick pass over on his injuries. Left to his own devices, he won’t last long. There were enough bullets perforating his chest from his sternum to his kidney that he’d bleed out in minutes. What a way to go.

A thought occurs to you. You haven’t managed to neutralise his Sage. She’s still probably at base—you know your Brim only brings her out when she’s essential on the field, too important to lose to a regular field mission. So no matter what, the man in front of you ends up back at his base eventually.

That settles it.

“Hold still hotshot.”

Not in a position to protest, Yoru can’t do much but sit and try to steady his breathing as you start to pull back his jacket, wincing a little at the extent of the damage. Taking a swab of antiseptic from your pouch, you mutter a quick ‘deep breath, this is gonna hurt like a motherfucker’ before setting to work cleaning the wounds.

Apart from sharp hisses when you remove the little pieces of lead embedded in his tissue, Yoru stays silent through the process, looking away.

Eventually, the wound is tidy enough that you’re able to start the real healing process. Stretching out your fingers, you press the palm of your hand to his side. While he jerks back at the initial contact, the warm waves of energy start to work their magic, reverberating through muscle and tissue and starting to net it back together.

Yoru finally lets out a sigh as in spite of himself, he relaxes into your work. “Ugh, that’s the stuff,” he says, almost to himself. Eventually he ventures: “why are you doing this, mirror girl?”

“Your Sage would bring you back anyway. We might be on opposite teams, but I’m not an asshole. I’d hope my other half would do the same for my colleagues.”

“Hm,” he whistles through his teeth.

“Didn’t expect you to be a fan of my healing though,” you muse.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It’s stupid. I’m actually a little pissed at your double right now, he was being a real dick talking shit about wanting Sage to heal him instead.” You notice his amused expression. “Sorry.”

To your surprise, he actually laughs at this. “Yeah of course he’d say that. If he’s anything like me he’s a stubborn bastard more keen to score points than to actually tell the truth. Fucking dumbass.”

Well that’s unexpected. “You don’t think… he meant it?”

At this, Yoru scoffs. “God no. In fact, if he has taste like me, he’d take your healing over Sage’s any day. Hers is like. Proficient, right? Technically flawless. But it’s so cold. She’s been at it for a while, and healing is just another obligation for her. You though. Yours is warm. Spreads through you like the heat from one of those old-fashioned light bulbs. And something about the way your power works…”

Here he trails off for a second, noticing how intently you’re listening. “Go on,” you coax, moving your hands down to focus on his ribcage.

“Your healing has a lot of you in it. Any time your mirror—or you actually, now that I think about it—fixes me up, I can feel how much you care about helping me. It’s nice and comforting, like honey, or sunlight on your back or some shit.”

Oh. Okay then.

“Why would you tell me this,” you ask quietly, starting to finish up the process and apply a few rounds of gauze to stabilise the major wounds.

“I want to cause problems for him. It’s funny.” For once, there’s no malice or ego behind his words. It’s nice to see him surprisingly genuine.

You go to shoot back a retort, but the intercom crackles and Brim’s voice comes through. “Command to Patch, status report? It’s been a few.”

Yoru’s eyes flash for a second, suddenly aware of the danger he’s in. He shifts uncomfortably as you take breath before responding, keeping eye contact with the man in front of you.

“All clear Command, I’m returning to base shortly.”

Yoru lets out a low whistle. “Shit, and you could have been a narc about it.”

You give a wry smile. “I suppose you’re right. I’m assuming you’ll leave this off your mission report to Sage?”

He nods.

As you turn to leave, his hand grabs your wrist. “What is it, rift-squawker?”

“Talk to him, patchy. He’s dumb, and the people he likes most are the ones he pushes away the most. He’s terrified to lose them, but he’s even more terrified of things almost working out.”

“I don’t think he’s dumb,” you muse quietly. “But I’ll take your word for it. Take care yeah? Don’t let me have to patch you up again.”

You clap him on his good shoulder and head back to extraction. The last thing you hear from him, almost under his breath, is a quiet ‘maybe there is hope then.’

Whatever that means.

---

Back at base, things are way less tense. Aside from Omega team’s triumph, Icebox was a total wipeout and the team managed to secure valuable intel about the mirror protocol’s next movements.

After dragging your tired bones to the infirmary and having Skye give you a top up, you’re about to hit the sack when a familiar form crosses your path. A lot of your hackles from earlier have gone down, and what the mirror Yoru had said flashes through your mind.

“Yoru!”

He turns around, face surly as ever.

“What is it, healbot? Come to gloat about your victory on the new frontier?”

You push back the instinctual retort, and opt for a more peaceful route. “Eh, the geodome was a bit touristy. I hear Icebox went well though. I don’t know what you did to get Viper commending you, but it sounds like you let ‘em have it.”

Yoru’s a bit caught offguard by your lack of defensiveness, but it doesn’t stop him from shooting back “yeah, turns out not having a healer is no big deal, actually.”

“That’s not what he said,” you muse. That piques his interest.

“Who?”

Oh shit.

“Oh, y’know…” you say evasively, waving your hand.

“Probably Phoenix, he doesn’t know shit.”

Oh? Bet. “Literally you,” you say before you can stop yourself.

That gets his full attention.

“The fuck do you mean me, patchy? I haven’t told you jack shit.”

You shoot a furtive glance around the corridor, and pull him into a small maintenance room shutting the door behind.

“Mirror you, idiot.”

“Where the fuck did you find my bastard clone? Scratch that, how the fuck did you have a full conversation with him?”

Ugh, no going back now. “It was… an arrangement of sorts. He was pretty dinged up and I-“ your voice catches here. “I couldn’t exactly walk past him when he was so hurt.”

“So, what, you healed him with your magic healing powers,” Yoru says incredulously.

“Don’t be mad…”

“Actually?” Yoru’s voice peaks, and you have to shush him, checking the handle.

“Hey if it was you surely you’d want the mirror me to he-“

He cuts you off. “Obviously but why the fuck would you heal me after all the shit I said earlier?”

This catches you off guard. “You… you were hurt, I know I’m not Sage but I thought you’d rather not die.”

“But like I obviously wasn’t serious about the whole healing thing. Wait…” he catches sight of your expression. “You thought I was serious about preferring Sage’s healing to yours?”

“Until he said something about it, Yoru, yeah. It got under my skin.”

He rocks back and puts a hand to his forehead, grimacing. “Shit. God. Fuck. I’m…” He grits his teeth. “I’m sorry. I- yeah that was on me. You know I don’t mean it right?”

Wow. An actual apology from Yoru? The fuck kind of magic did mirror Yoru work?

“Yoru it’s, it’s fine. I guess I put a lot of myself into my healing so it’s a point of pride for me. It kinda sucks when people turn around and say I’m less-than.”

“I know you put a lot of yourself in it,” he says quietly. “That’s… one of the things I really like about your healing. That’s why it’s… my favourite…” That last bit is barely audible.

A bit of a flush of pride starts to prickle your cheeks, though you try your best not to show it.  “Yoru, you know you can just say that upfront, right? Like, it’s okay to recognise when you like what other people do.”

“I know. I know, I just-“ He mumbles the next bit. “What if they think I’m stupid for enjoying their help, and what if they don’t think as highly of me?” The light is low, but even so you can see the heat starting to radiate off his face as he gives you this surprising dose of honesty.

“Are you kidding me? You’re one of the best even in the protocol. Insane marksmanship, brilliant record and an amazing knack for getting behind enemy lines. Why would anyone think you’re stupid or not respect you.”

“But,” he sputters out. “I want you in particular to like me and like what I do.” Just as quickly as the words leave his mouth, he clamps his hands over and looks away, very pointedly avoiding eye contact.

Wow. Wow, okay.

“I should go,” he says abruptly, and whirls around to leave. Anticipating the gesture, you catch his wrist and tug him back.

“Yoru you freakin’ dumbass. I think you’re great. You’re one of my favourite people in the protocol, and I like it when you can be honest with me. I think it’s really sweet.”

Without warning, he draws in close, chest going up and down at quite a rate. He really looks like he wants something, wants to say something or do something, and you’re starting to get the sense you know what it is.

Fuck it, worth the risk.

You close the distance and press your lips against his. He goes completely stiff for a second and you almost freak out, worried that you’ve misread the many cues. But then he’s pushing into the kiss hungrily, his hands reaching around and pulling you close, growling at the sensation of finally having you up close.

Every movement you make, he leans into it and responds tenfold, huffing and tugging and trying to hold as much of you as he possibly can.

You both near run out of breath before you finally break, standing there panting and looking at each other. His hair is wild and his eyes are gleaming with no small amount of satisfaction, and maybe even a hint of relief.

He pulls you in close again, this time wrapping his arms around you for a bone-crushing hug. “Your clone is the fucking wing-man of the century,” you murmur into his ear.

Yoru gives a gruff chuckle. “I suppose he is.”

[erimeows]

How do you think Megatron would react when he finally admits to himself he has feelings for an organic?

Man, I love writing Megatron in love. Headcanons/scenario below the cut, thanks for the request; enjoy!

I feel like Megatron would try to ignore it at first, just like he would with feelings for another Cybertronian, but much, much worse.

Organic aside, relationships aren’t really something he believes are meant for him. He’s a Decepticon leader, he can’t show weakness, and if he dares to get close to someone, there’s a good chance that they could be used against him. So generally speaking, he keeps his distance.

But then you come along.

You have a bad interaction with the Autobots; one of them accidentally wrecks your house in a battle and offers you no compensation or even another place to say, only apologizing before running off, so you do some research on Cybertronians, find out about the Decepticons, and somehow do enough digging to find their base.

Megatron is shocked when you show up one day and pledge your allegiance to him and to the Decepticon cause, but when you explain your reasoning, he can tell that you’re genuine; Autobots are martyr-complex-having, inconsiderate fools who do what they can to look good and act like they’re doing ‘right’, their council is a bunch of stuck up pricks who don’t allow anyone to be an individual or have freedom, and they all act like they’re a working part of a system instead of their own mech/femme with an actual personality. Megatron is kinda like... yeah, okay, whatever. He almost tries to blow you off, but Shockwave and Soundwave argue that you could reveal some weaknesses that the humans have and that you’re an unthreatening enough figure that you could be used as a productive spy. So, he keeps you around and gives you a place to stay on base.

At first, he acts indifferent towards you; you’re a gross, human fleshbag that he wants nothing to do with outside of work, but he sees that you and Soundwave get along since you share a lot of the same ideals about humans needing to do their own work instead of relying on robots to do it for them, and you and Shockwave are actually quite friendly. Hell, you and Lugnut and Blitzwing even make a great trio. So, indirectly, without even realizing it at first, Megatron becomes fond of you through observing your conversations with the others. You’re respectable, brave, bold, honest, and you’re fully self-aware. He finds that, unlike the other humans, he doesn’t mind you; you don’t see him or his cause as evil and actually treat him with respect, and you don’t run or cower or act shy around him either- that shit gets on his nerves.

He knows it’s a bad idea, but he starts talking to you personally. In his berth room, you two exchange intel you’ve collected, and afterwards, you always hang around for an hour or so for in-depth discussions, about your lives and dreams and hopes and philosophies. He frequently finds himself sharing ancient data tablets containing Decepticon works of literature on them with you, and eventually, the two of you have/develop a lot in common.

Not all humans are gross like he thought they were initially, he realizes... In fact, though he’d never say so out loud, you smell nice and the few fleeting touches he’s had with you are always pleasant because of how warm and soft you are.

The first time he thinks about the rapid pace of the relationship the two of you have cultivated and about his feelings for you is after you’re injured. Your cover as a spy gets blown and surprisingly enough, you mention to escape Optimus Prime and the other four members of his team, but you come back sustaining some rough cuts/gashes from when Prowl chucked his shuriken at your clothes to try to pin you to the wall with them; they’re all along your arms, legs, and a few even managed to graze your sides.

You return to the base bloodied and beaten from their attempts to detain you, and though Soundwave and Shockwave (who are easily your best friends at that point) insist that they’re fully capable of handling your medical care, Megatron realizes that he wants to do it himself- doesn’t know why he wants to do it, just knows that he does and that no one is going to stop him. So, he takes you to the med bay and uses the small amount of human medical equipment they obtained for you to disinfect your wounds as you walk him through the process verbally, stitches the ones that need stitching, and wraps/bandages them. It involves you being half-clothed, and though he certainly isn’t going to ogle you like a pervert, he can’t help how his intake hitches at being so close to you when you’re so exposed and vulnerable. It just feels very intimate, and it’s something he’s not used to; no one has dared touch him in thousands of years outside of battle, nor has he touched another outside of such context.

You have to stay in the med bay overnight so that your vitals can be monitored and you can have your dressings changed and antibiotics given to you to prevent your wounds from getting infected. Megatron is also sure to give you painkillers if you need them and keep you well-fed/hydrated so you can heal properly.

He stays by your side while you sleep even though he doesn’t need to, watching you. He can’t help but think about how fascinating it is that your body is so fragile, so prone to bloody injuries when even slightly harmed, but you’re so strong and determined and courageous; completely dedicating yourself to his work, his cause, him when you didn’t have to. Part of that was out of your spite and dislike for the Autobots, but he admired that, too. You uprooted your entire life to come help him and the Decepticons, and even though he didn’t dare say something so kind out loud, he couldn’t help but appreciate you. Him taking care of you was just paying it forward.

You sleep peacefully, chest rising and falling with every breath you take and (s/c) cheeks dusted red. Occasionally, you’ll toss and turn, but at one point, you reach out for his servo in your sleep, so he takes your hand and holds it tight. If anyone ever saw him so tender and weak, he’d be done for, but you were asleep, so he figured it was fine- no one needed to know how much he loved you, not even you.

Oh.

Oh no. He loved you. As fate would have it, it all crashed down on him at once as he sat there, holding your hand. He had gone from assuming you were some disgusting human bag of flesh he wanted nothing to do with, to begrudgingly accepting you to help his cause, to respecting you, to befriending you, to... Falling in love with you. What terrible luck... Maybe it was his punishment for terrorizing organics for so many years, that he just so happened to fall in love with one.

The second he realizes it, he can’t deny it. You recover from your injuries well with Megatron by your side assisting you, but the more time he spends around you, the worse his feelings get, and he’s old enough that he’s not the kind of fool who pushes his feelings away. Instead, he wallows in them, bathes in them, drowns in them, and he drowns in you. It’s really horrible that he, a being so large and powerful and responsible for mass destruction, is so enamored with you, a being so small and delicate and honest. You’re an unfortunate soul, and if you love him back, it’s even worse.

It comes out naturally one of the nights that you’re locked up in his room together discussing some Decepticon poetry you read recently. It was one of his favorite works, and you seemed like you’d enjoyed it, too. Silence falls between you for a moment before he says, “I love you, (y/n). I never thought I’d stoop as low as to fall for an organic, but you’re the only one worth falling for, and Primus, have I fallen.”. The atmosphere doesn’t go tense or awkward, and you only smile up at him, putting the data tablet with the poem on it down on his night table before turning to him.

“And I thought I’d never fall for the leader of an alien robot rebellion, but here I am, and you’re worth falling for, too.”

It’s peaceful, nothing heated or tense but tender and relaxing as he pulls you into his arms and holds you close to him... Maybe being in love with an organic wasn’t so bad, after all.

[ac3id]

Hawk’s eye| 18+

pairings: hawks [keigo tamaki] x female! reader

summary: hawks is in his rut, desperate for some relief. his annoying secretary won’t stop irritating him so he decides to take his pent up frustrations on her.       ( •̀ ω •́ )✧

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anonymous said:

hi!! so while the requests are still open, could you write some headcannons for Hawks x reader when he's in rut? maybe the reader is a bit clueless and doesn't even know he goes through stuff like that? dirty details are welcome 👀❤️

this was high-key inspired by @tainted-wine​‘s this fic. (i hope u like my take on it !! 💓) 

a/n: aaaa this took so much longer than i thought it would take 😭, also thanks @the-grimm-writer  for proof reading this! (´▽`ʃ♡ƪ) also this is porn w plot so if u just was to skip to da porn. skip to this ‘◌’ bhai 

ALSO THANKYOU FOR 900 FOLLOWERS LMAO WTF FOR REAL 😭

tagging: @lady-tokugawa-of-mikawa​, @koiibito​, @reinawritesbnha​, @shorkbrian​

warnings: noncon, hate fucking, one slap, she bites his dick at some point, scumbag hawks.

word count:  5862

navigation

The sound of your phone buzzing on the side table with a loud, irritating noise jolts you awake. You roll around on the bed, your fingers reaching to turn the vibrating device off. Groaning, you sit up straight. The warm mattress under you threatens to lull you back to sleep but you shove the thought away instead choosing to stretch your arms over your head and yawn endlessly. You were tired, so goddamn tired. Rubbing your temples lazily you start thinking about the dreadful day you have ahead of yourself. You think about your boss: Hawks, the man who makes you hate your life and job. He has trapped you into a never-ending nightmare which starts the second you open your eyes till the moment you fall asleep and even then he still manages to haunt you in your dreams. 

Cleaning up after his messes, obeying his ever so pliantly. He has turned you into his little pet slave. He says that it’s your job as you are his assistant, his little helper there to make his job a little less hectic. You must listen to his needs and wants and to some degree, you do agree with him: it is your job, it’s what you signed up for after all but you can also sense him misusing his title when he is with you. He never listens to your suggestions which results in him calling you late after work hours to help with his problems knowing damn well you had already warned him beforehand. And, oh his flirty, suggestive comments which borderline sexual harassment. Hawks is a difficult man to work with and you often find yourself wondering how much calmer your life would be if you never worked for him but you do not have that luxury of leaving the job. It pays ridiculously well and you have bills to pay, your family to support. No, you cannot afford to lose this job. So you sit through his torment and hope for the best.

Seconds later after you have gathered your will to live you start scrolling through your phone, skimming through the morning news lazily. Your eyebrows furrow and eyes turn into angry slits as you glance upon a displeasing, astonishing article.

 ‘No. 2 Hero Hawks spotted partying with strippers–’

Your heart stops for a moment.

What the fuck was this? 

You hesitantly read through the article, your heartbeat increasing every second that your eyes focus on the led screen, reading the details of the damned article. Eyes widening as panic settles in your nerves, you realize the gravity of the situation you had found yourself under as Hawks’ manager. Hawks had been spotted partying with strippers in a nightclub with a bunch of celebrities. The crazy stalker who had managed to follow him succeeded in capturing exclusive pictures of Hawks dressed in an expensive suit, his hair styled to perfection dancing under the dim lights of the club with women in basically their underwear shamelessly grinding upon him. You honestly couldn’t have given a single fuck about what Hawks did in his free time but since he had managed to get a paparazzi to tail him and now that his career was at risk; it became your problem. Your first and foremost instinct was to call Hawks and ask him what the hell he was thinking. Not being careful enough, he had managed to taint his entire reputation. The people of Japan now probably viewed him as a reckless party animal rather than the No. 2 Hero! 

Before you could call him, your phone’s screen lights up illuminating a contact you dread. ‘Hero Commission’ it’s written in bold letters, your face drops. Your fingers shake, filled with anxiety as you accept the call. Inhaling and exhaling, you try to calm your nerves. If it is a call from the Commission, you know it’s bad. Bad. 

You pick up the phone and instantly regret it, “What were you doing?” an angry, masculine voice snarls through the screen. You open your mouth to answer but are not given a chance too. “How did you let him go to a strip club during patrol hours?” you bite your lip thinking of an acceptable excuse, “He had to go there for work! It’s a misunderstanding. He went down to the strip club undercover to meet up with a crook to get some intel– that’s what he told me. This is a misunderstanding, I–” your explanation was cut short as the person on the other end of the call deemed it enough. “Whatever it is, fix it and never let this happen again.” he sneers a warning before cutting the call. It wasn’t a complete lie, Hawks did tell you that he was investigating a case on his own and that he would be gaining information from shady people but you did not expect him to go to a strip club out of all places. The worst part: he never even told you in detail anything about this case neither did he notice the paparazzi tailing his back. You sigh in frustration, rubbing your forehead, you quickly ring up his number only for it be sent right to voicemail. You almost scream. Where the fuck was this bastard?

Managing Hawks was not a walk in the park. The hero commission had sent you down especially to be Hawks’ secretary. You had a reputation: you were known to be responsible, diligent, and punctual. You were one of their best, entrusted with the responsibility to manage Hawks and you did a good job but it was Hawks who just made the job so hard. 

Creating problems he could never solve by himself; on lucky days you would get a call from him at three in the morning, him begging you to come to help him. You want to say no, deny him any help. Let him suffer by himself but you cannot do that. If he screws up and you are not there to fix it. You lose your job, you can’t afford that. You give your 100%, you do but it’s Hawks. He has a problem with you, well, he has a problem with everyone in the commission but projects it mainly at you. He does not respect you. 

He chooses to ignore your decisions and suggestions, diminishing them with a cruel chuckle, “Look, I need you but just not now.” He would say with an apologetic smile, “just let me work at my own pace, I will call when I will need you. After all, I love seeing your cute face.” You would always have to force yourself from not slapping his smug face before he took off into the bright, blue sky.

The truth untold, it wasn’t his fault completely either. He was just so fast. It was hard for anyone to keep up with him and since he did his job right; bringing peace to the nation you could not deem him worthless. But it still was a bother at times like this when you were left completely in the dark while Hawks ruined his hard-earned reputation. 

You got into the building earlier that morning to wait for Hawks in his office, you needed to talk to him. This was not his first mishap. Not long ago, another article about him shamelessly flirting with a fan had been published. It had said the fan was visibly uncomfortable with him but Hawks didn’t seem to care, he kept presting. You had managed to cover it up as the two being close friends who were publicly joking around, there was no real harm done. It was a lie though, you had to pay the fan a large check to keep her mouth shut. She accepted the money and the story was lost and forgotten but you had no idea how you were going to cover this hell up.

The clock struck nine as the day began, people rushing into the building all tensed but there was no sign of Hawks. You tried calling him on his number but the call directed to voicemail yet again. You were growing impatient, did something happen to him? Sure Hawks fucked things over sometimes but he never disappeared like this. It got you genuinely worried. Something horrible could have happened to him. After all, he was on a case. 

You waited for another thirty minutes and there was yet no sign of him. His sidekicks came knocking on his office door only to be surprised to see you there instead of their boss. You told them to continue with their day and not worry about Hawks, he was just awfully late. Not a big deal, he will be here soon. Soon. 

Another hour passed by, no sign of Hawks and about now your phone was blowing up with angry calls from his sponsors and business partners, screaming at the top of their lungs frowning upon the scandal. Heck, even Endeavor called you after he couldn’t reach Hawks himself. The call made you nervous as anxiety crept in yet again. Hawks wasn’t answering to Endeavour something bad must have happened. Getting tired of the wait, you make up your mind to drop by his penthouse and to go see him for yourself. His silence was driving you crazy and worried at the same time, you just hoped he would be there well and safe. You could not imagine the ruckus that would create if something were to happen to him. 

You walked out of his office after waiting for an hour. Rushing down to the basement you got into your car and before driving away to his house. Just before leaving, you decided to test your luck by calling him. Hoping, praying he would answer this time and luckily he did .

“Hawks!” you cried, a wave of relief washing over you, “Where are you? What are you doing?” you began pestering him with questions, not letting him answer even once. Hawks, tired of waiting,  interrupted your monologue of questions with a chuckle. “Aw, you’re worried about me, baby?” his tone was low and mischievous, the sentence slurring almost into a moan at the last word. You rolled your eyes and clenched your fists in irritation, you weren’t new to his teasing. Hawks thought it was appropriate for him to casually flirt with his secretary. Send unasked comments about your figure, perverted implications about what he would do to a ‘cute little thing like you’ which made you very uncomfortable being around him at times. But it wasn’t that what made him get on your last nerves. It was the fact that he could even think about joking at a time like this which made you furious. 

You screamed into the phone, giving him a piece of your mind. Degrading him for not taking care of himself, complaining about how he had managed to put you in such a tight spot. 

“Once again I am asking, where the fuck are you. Hawks?” you ended your speech with spite in your words. Hawks sighed, “I am in the office,” he says your name with an edge in his voice, instantly shutting you down, “Where the hell are you?” The smugness in his tone remains and you can tell he is smirking on the other side of the screen as if he’s won. You hang up abruptly before walking out of your car and into the building, hurriedly making your way towards Hawk’s office. 

You slam the door open glaring upon hawks as he sits behind his table. Dirty boots resting pliantly on the shiny, polished wood. His wings out, stretched to their fullest, filling up the room standing on high alert. They have a deeper hue to them, they look darker– a darker red. How did that happen? You find yourself wondering. Is he on drugs? His face is tilted upwards, facing the ceiling. Eyes screwed shut. They open as he hears you enter and walk towards him, his wings falling back behind him calm and collected. 

“You’re late,” he says with a smirk, you bang your fist on the table beside where his feet rest, making him flinch and bring them down instinctively. His eyes widened in shock, he was not expecting you to be this furious. Sure, he knew he knew he had gotten you mad but he was not expecting you to be this angry. Without any hesitation, you start scolding him again. He watches you ramble in ominous glee. A poker face masking his expression, he watches you trot about how much trouble he is in. His job is to protect meek and weak citizens who cannot fight for themselves, what he was doing in a strip in the name of business is something you cannot grasp your head around. You repeat your lecture which you had already tortured him over the phone while the entire time Hawks drums his fingers underneath the table, waiting for you to get over with your dumb speech. His eyes trail on your lips, watching it move. Plump, pillow-like features tinted dark red ramble on about how much of an irresponsible person he was. Complaining about how much trouble he puts you through daily. Honestly, he doesn’t quite catch what you were saying. His mind busy imaging you shutting the fuck and letting him get through the day– or better yet how pathetic you would look underneath him while he shoves his dick down your throat. The thought makes his cock throb. His eyes change from an unbothered, bored look to something sinister as they start trailing all over your body. His eyebrows slightly furrow as he catches up on the few degrading terms you throw at him. 

You talked too much. Way too much, do you realize how much better you would look if you keep your pretty, little mouth shut? The entire time, it’s always: Hawks don’t do this, Hawks don’t do that. Don’t you ever get tired? He wonders whether your dumb little brain had any thoughts other than the ones which tell you to irritate him all the time. You should shut up, really stop talking. He might do something bad, he’s already stressed enough as it is being in his rut and having no way to relieve himself, he is going through a rough time here. The other night he escaped to a strip club in hopes of relieving some stress and it had worked but it had also brought along a mind splitting scandal.

The entire morning, Hawks was busy avoiding people. Whether it be his fans, reporters, or even someone he knew; he paid no mind to them trying to get to the office as soon as possible to deal with the mess he had created.

It wasn’t his fault entirely, he was in his rut and needed sexual relief which he was finding very hard to receive. With his work piling up and you breathing down his neck, he couldn’t even take represents as they slowed him down. He couldn’t risk falling asleep on duty. A stupid, little headline about what he does in his free time was much more favorable than a failed mission in which he would let countless innocent lives slip by his fingers. 

He watches you ramble, his eyes trailing over your body locking on your tits. He stares at them intensely, watching them bounce slowly every time you huff out of irritation and frustration. Your work shirt works him favors, the white almost translucent material shows off the slightest shadow of your black, lacy bra. It’s enough to get him going- imaging how your soft mounds would feel in his hands. How you would whimper under his touch as he tugs and pulls on your perky nipples, you probably wouldn’t sound as monstrous as you do right now. Your moans would be girlish, small whimpers would leave your lips as you would try your best to cover them up. You would try to hide your face under his assault but he wouldn’t let you, pinning you down instead and forcing himself on you while you cried for him to stop. Beg for his mercy. 

He can feel his jeans tighten. 

“So please, Hawks. Just be a little more responsible.” you finish, your voice turning into a plea. He hums and apologizes for his impulsive thinking, like always, he is not sorry. “Let's fix this mess, what do you say?” he asks with an apologetic grin, trying to be polite. You on the other hand don’t even spare him a glance, walking right out the door instead. It leaves him very offended. 

◌

“Ah! What a troublesome day it was,” Hawks chimes in walking into his office with you closely following behind, “It was all your fault.” you spit making hawks chuckle, “Whatever happens, happens for the good.” he says, a scoff leaves your lips, “What was good about that?” you ask annoyed. “I get to have you alone with me now~” Hawks winks at you making you roll your eyes dramatically. Both of you stand together in Hawks’ office after hours. The day is done, everyone in the agency building has taken their leave excluding the two of you. It had been a long day fixing up after Hawks. You were tired and all you wanted was a warm bath and some sleep. 

“Do you want to know why it happened?” Hawks asks out of the blue, “What happened?” you question, “Why was I at the strip club?” you sigh, “I don’t give two shits about your personal life, Hawks.” replying sternly. A look of disappointment arises on his face, “It’s actually more than that, really, I u-uh have this condition- it gets very hard to work during these times-”

 “What are you even talking about?” You interject confused and clueless. You turn to him, a glare evident on your face you stare at him sheepishly. What was he on about now?

“I am serious, I went into my rut, and that's why I went to the strip club-” “Into a what?” Hawks’ eyes widened, were you really that clueless? “A rut, [y/n],” he says like it is a matter of fact, something everybody is aware of. “A rut. You know like how some animals go into heat and they-” your face scrunches as he explains his rut to you, you visibly grow more and more repulsed. Hawks studies you face, his heart genuinely breaking at your expressions. “Why are you telling me this?” you screech, “jeez Hawks, I did not need to know any of that!” you continue. 

Hawks is hurt, he accepted a reaction which showed more concern. Maybe he went a bit too far imagining that you would offer him help but seeing you so disgusted by him shattered his heart and made him lose all his respect for you. You were a terrible human being, no different from those villains he put behind the bars every day. “I am telling you all of this because- this actually happens!  Many- fuck- millions of people like me actually suffer from this shit! You should be a little more emphatic.” he reasons. He accepts you to understand at least now but you gloriously manage to disappoint him yet again. A rude snarl leaves your lips followed by a scoff, “What are you really trying to tell me Hawks? That you don’t want to do your job and to justify your laziness; you are making lame excuses now?” you shove a finger to his chest, it pushes him off the edge. 

Something in his snaps, he looks down where your fingertip touches his chest. You are smaller than him, he’s at least a foot bigger than you. Where does your bratty, puny self get all this confidence from? His eyes darken as something sinister floats within him. He stares down at your finger, wanting to rip it off. He wants to see you cry. He wants to see you in pain and misery, suffering a great deal while nobody comes to help you. 

“Hawks, you know what? I am so done with your bullshit. I am leaving.” You turn away from him, heading to the door but before you could move a step. Hawks grabs you by writs, caging your delicate hand into a bone-crushing death grip, “What the fuck?” you question, “Hawks?” you continue. You wait for his response, turning to him. He is facing the floor, his hair scanning over his eyes making it impossible for you to read his expression, not that you could read what was going on with him normally but now; it’s even harder. “Are you going to let go?” you ask again only to be met by him squeezing your wrists even tighter. You bring your other hand over him to pry yourself free from his clutches but he doesn’t want to let go. 

“Hawks wha-” you don’t get to complete your statement as Hawks pushes you down on the floor making you fall on your butt. You let out a loud hiss. You frown, yelling out “What is wrong with you!?” You try to stand back up but his hands settle on your shoulder pushing you back down. You try fighting but it’s to no use. Did you forget he is the no. 2 Pro- Hero? He is much stronger than you, he brings down villains twice his size daily. What makes you think your weak kicks and punches will be enough to beat him? 

You keep struggling under him, screaming how you were going to report him and ruin his career, how he is going to be sorry for messing with you.

 “Shut. Up.” he finally speaks, he brings his gloved hand to your perfectly styled hair. Pulling tightly on your roots he stretches your face upwards, making it easier for him to look down on you while you cry in agony, “Stop crying.'' His voice is deep and raspy, much different from how he usually talks. You look up at him, fear swimming in your eyes as tears prick at the corners of your sockets, lips trembling. If you already weren’t terrified enough, your horror becomes tenth fold when you see his boner raging in his pants, “Come, on. Hawks..” your voice is small and weak, it's a broken cry. You know what he is going to make you do. He was going to violate you, break you beyond repair. 

This was so wrong. As much you hated Hawks, you never would have thought he would do something like this. Hawks was a hero. He is meant to fight for justice, punish evil. Why is he doing this? “Hawks no. Please. Was it something I said? I take it back I didn’t mean it-” 

“You know, y/n, you are not so different from those villains yourself,” if looks could kill, you would be dead. The pure, anger, and hatred he looks at you with bothers you. It makes you hate yourself, there is something sinister in his eyes which makes you sure about the fact that he is not afraid of hurting you. He has given up on you, after all, his polite gestures, generosity you always ignored- he’s fed up with your sheer ignorance and your ego. He hates you. He does and heck if he wasn’t in his rut; he would never bring his dick anywhere near you. He does not respect you as a human and in no way does he have any romantical attachment to you. All he ever saw was a walking alarm clock, bugging him every second, and now all he is going to see you as is his cocksleeve whom he can stuff his fat cock into whenever and however he seems fine. To him you are just a walking hole he can ruin whenever he wants to, you have managed to get on his bad side and he is going to show you his bad side.

He undoes his belt, his pants falling to his thighs displaying his expensive boxers and his growing hardness. His cock is throbbing within its confines, fighting desperately to come free. His free hand pulls his boxers down and his cock springs free, hitting his abdomen. It stands long and hard, the tip blushed red and angry, tiniest bit of pre-cum spilling sweetly from his slit. He pumps his cock in his hand before forcing it against your mouth, pressing it to your lips smearing his pre all over your lips. You whimper in protest, moving your head the littlest you can under his tight grip. “Bitch open up. You had this coming for a long time,” his dick slaps your cheek while his fingers try to pry open your mouth. Pushing his gloved digits forcefully into your mouth, the rough fabric feels disgusting on your tongue. His fingers capture the lower part of your jaw, tearing your mouth apart with deranged strength. A loud cry escapes from you as he stuffs your empty mouth full of his cock, “Yeah, that’s more like it. Fuck.” he bottoms out into your throat, his shaft hitting the back of your throat making you gag, “get on with it. A slut like you would have the experience, right?” he taunts you. You do as he says, puckering your lips firmly around his length, your hands resting on his exposed thighs while you stroke him with your tongue. You feel his chiseled thigh muscles flex under your fingers as he melts in pleasure, tiny moans leaving his lips shamelessly. 

As Hawks drowns in overwhelming pleasure, a criminal idea crosses your mind. Your eyes trail up to his face. His eyes are screwed close, he bites his lower lip softly. Carefully and slowly, you graze your teeth over his cock. Clamping down on it lightly, you hold your position. Your heart beats faster when Hawks stiffens and in a quick flash, he pushes you off his cock throwing you into the ground before backing up, squealing in pain.

 “YOU LITTLE BITCH!” he screams, you sprint to the door. Trembling fingers try to unlock the doorknob while Hawks cries in agony behind you. You can feel him loom behind you, ready to come for your neck. A part of you tells you that you will not make it but the adrenaline rushing in your veins calls to be hopeful. Just open the door and just run. 

Your cold, quivering fingers almost unlock the heavy wooden door but before you can push it open. Hawks appears right behind you, pushing his body onto your back. You feel his cock poking at your ass, his hand grabs your head pulling you, prying you off the door. You scream and cry trying to break free, grabbing his hand clawing on it to let you free. Hawks chooses to show no mercy as he drags you by your hair to his desk, your scalp hurts from his grip. You can feel tiny strands breakaway. He turns you around and slams your back to his wooden desk, you whimper at the contact. He stands in front of you, pressing his knee between your thighs. His hand reaches out to pull at your collar, forcing you to look at him. 

He is livid, eyebrows furrowed with a death glare his jaw clenched, and his eyes darker than you have ever seen before. He looks at you with murderous intent, you think he might as well kill you with his wings flared open. The feathers turning into knives, you beg for your life. 

Hawks observes your face. Broken, scared for your life your eyes are glassy, ridden in fear your makeup smeared all over your face. He thinks it's beautiful, he has finally got you begging for mercy, finally thinking of him as the man he is. He appreciates your submission but it does not erase the fact that you just bite oh his dick. You beg for mercy, your voice is small and broken. It comes barely above a whisper, “I am so sorry hawks, please don’t do this.” He doesn’t listen, staring at you head-on with his jaw clenched. He brings his free hand to the air, keeping it steady for a second before bringing it down with a horrendous force. You feel it before it happens; white, hot flashing pain erupts through your cheek stinging you hard. You cry out in agony as your face drops to the other side. The strike was powerful, it left you sore, you can still feel it sting your face. It leaves you swollen, you try to bring your hand up to your face lightly to carcasses you paining cheek but Hawks pushes your face on the wooden desk before you could, trapping your arms behind your back holding it with one hand. “You don’t realize your position, do you? You know what? I was going- planning to be gentle with you. I thought I would at least make you cum but now,” he pulls a feather out his wings preceding to tear open your pencil skirt with the sharp end. The ripped fabric falls to the ground leaving you in your panties and the pantyhose you always wear under your skirts, “There we go. I hope you are a pain slut, otherwise you would really not enjoy this.” he says with a small chuckle before ripping you out of your bottoms, leaving you in your panties completely vulnerable to him. He abandons his gloves, rubbing his fingers on your clothed cunt roughly trying to gather slickness from your dry hole. Pleasure shoots down your body as his digits find your clit, rubbing tight circles on the little pearl, “Does this feel good? You are getting wet.” a smirk scars his face, “Who gets off to being raped?” he says sharply. Your face scrunches up in disgust and embarrassment. A heavy lump forms in your throat and the waterworks that you had been holding off burst open. Big, fat tears roll down your cheeks as you cry for mercy. You didn't know why this was happening to you, for your entire life you had been a nice person: always helpful, sensitive, and kind. At least, that was what you thought yourself to be. Never in a million years could you- or anyone, in fact, could have ever thought that you would be crying pathetically while your boss: a person known to all as a Hero, the truest, most honest person to exist ever would be the one defiling you, tearing you down to nothing just for his pleasure. 

“Shut up, you like this.” He snarls at you, so sick of your loud wails he even shoves two fingers inside your mouth plunging them to the back of her throat, “Don’t you dare bite now, slut.” he warns. His fingers stop prodding at your clit when he notices the wet spot forming on your panties, he wastes no time shimming them down to your ankles, whistling when he sees your glistening pussy. You only wail louder pleading him not proceed any further. Hawks turns a blind eye to all your begging, “I should just shove it in, right?” he asks petting his finger over your hole, “but that won’t be fun,” he snickers. You feel his move away from your cunt and move higher. Panic settles, he couldn't be serious, “Hawks. Please no. Please don’t. I don-” finger rims along your asshole, inching to dip in, “What? Don’t want me to fuck your ass?” he spanks your ass hard making you flinch, “Please I’ve never-” you cry out hoping he would understand, “No one’s ever fucked you in the ass before?” you whine at the lewd words which shamelessly fall from his lips, “Guess there’s a first for everything.” he says with a scoff. 

His digits bury into your hole, stretching you out in a way you’ve never felt before. The stretch burns, filling a fresh set of tears rolling down your eyes, smudging your mascara and eyeliner You looked like a whore. He keeps hammering his fingers inside you without mercy, a loud whine leaves your lips as you feel a tingle of pleasure from him hitting the right spot. “Do you like that? Too bad, this isn’t for you.” he moves his fingers from you before lining his fat cock to your almost too tiny hole, “How will this fit?” he laughs to himself, pressing his engorged tip in slowly, “Will be a tight fit,” he continues to shove his cock into your hole, his face turns off one to ecstasy as your walls take him inch by inch. You scream in pain, his cock was much bigger than his fingers. It was stretching you out, numbing your mind and soul, you did not know how much more you could take. Salty tears fell from your eyes as Hawks bottomed himself in you, he waited for a moment before starting to thrust into you unforgivingly. Dragging his fat cock out and your walls pulling him right back in. As he kept ramming into you. Slowly, you start to pleasure tingle up your spine as his tip smashed against the right spots. Your cries of pain turn to pleasurable moans. Hawks wastes no time in teasing you, “Look at you moaning like a slut,” he spanks your ass with swift force sending your rear to sting. You feel unbearable pleasure starting to build up in your abdomen, a straining coil wanting to burst which each of Hawks’ strong thrusts yet it is left unfilled as the simulation is not enough to make you cum from all alone. Hawks notices this, the pitiful crying for him to touch your swollen little clit which was begging to be played with. He almost thought he would give it to you, after all, he was a good person. Almost. 

Hawks just snicker, his cruel, sadistic laugh echoing in the room, “No, no, no.” he teases, “no matter how much you cry, baby. I am not letting you cum. This is your punishment, you deserve this. You’ve been a bad girl.” Hawks couldn’t formulate how he was able to form complete sentences. The moment he had caught you, he had let himself go feral. Dragging you down like a predator, he finally had you under him. He kept grunting and breathing profanity down your ear along with shameful praises about how well your slutty ass takes him. He is glad he is finally getting his much-deserved relief but he is not done yet. He won’t be done until he is filling your vulnerable womb with his seed, he won’t be done until he hears you asking him to give you his children. He is not going to leave you be until he has destroyed you, balls deep in your tiny pussy. He is going to keep you here all night fucking you, he is going to stay there all night fucking you with hate which he has buried within himself for you over the years. He is going to melt you in his hand, break you until only he can build you up, and maybe he will not let you go even after that. Maybe he will keep you after all hawks mate for life. 

Just hope he lets you cum the next time. 

[ellstersmash]

Not to Keep

Fandom: Mass Effect (Original Trilogy) Pairing: Kaidan x f!Shepard Rating: T for Teen (cw for alcohol use) Words: 2.7k [Read on Ao3]

shep and kaidan go undercover, set early in me1. this was originally a prompt for "fake relationship" from Leather & Lace Romance Week, but then I waited 3.5 years to finish it 🥀

-

It all seemed so simple. Infiltrate a wedding, extract intel on Benezia, use that to find Saren.

Easy-peasy.

Until Shepard shows up in the shuttle bay looking like that. They've only been working together for a couple of months, and Kaidan has seen her covered in blood spatter, dripping sweat post-PT—hell, even bare naked in a hotel room. But it’s safe to say he never thought he'd see her like this. Full makeup, soft curls, a long red dress that shouldn't fit anyone that perfectly, and, dangling from two fingers, a pair of classy black heels.

Kaidan swallows hard and gives her a curt nod. “Ma’am.”

“Alenko.” He shifts on his feet as her eyes travel the length of his body and back up, her cool stare giving nothing away. “You clean up nice.”

“Ah, thanks. And you look—”

“Oh, I'm dressed to kill.” Lips the same shade as her dress curve into a grin. “Figuratively, for once.”

Kaidan chokes and laughs, caught off guard in a mixture of nerves and surprise. “Was that a joke, Commander?”

Her expression narrows into a pinched, self-deprecating smirk. “If you have to ask, then no. And I definitely haven't been thinking about it since Williams zipped this damn thing up.”

The thought of his CO, this formidable woman, giggling to herself over a stupid joke for an hour is... well, it’s uncharacteristically cute. Kaidan rolls it around in his head for an indulgent minute, trying on the fit before letting the image go.

Just one more thing to jam into that Never Gonna Happen file.

“Right,” she says, back to business. “Let’s get this over with.”

They board the shuttle for the short trip to the venue, and go over the mission brief one final time: intel extraction remains their highest priority—one of their hosts, Polona T’Shan, was rumored to have a close business connection with the matriarch; protecting their cover is important, but heavy security is not expected; their false identity profiles should be enough to get them in the door, and from there the two of them will be responsible for avoiding unwanted attention by appearing as a couple.

Kaidan knows his own limits. He’s a soldier, not an actor. This pretending to be someone else, this lie, it isn't part of his training and it sure as hell isn't part of who he is. But if Shepard’s as nervous as he is, she isn't showing it.

She’s looking at him again, in that intense all-in way she sometimes does. Before her, he had never met someone who was aware of—and pursued—what they wanted with such confidence, such dogged determination, and to have that kind of focus set on him even for just a moment is… terrifying. In a good way, he thinks. It makes him feel warm and cold at the same time. It also makes him want to stare right back, but that way lies only trouble, and none of them need another helping. Not right now.

Kaidan leans back and rests his head on the cool, if slightly unsteady, inner shuttle wall as Shepard drums a rhythmless pattern into the space between their seats.

---

Kyra drains her glass.

As it turns out, Asari weddings aren't all that different from the few human ones she’s attended. Though this reception is a far more extravagant affair than she’s used to: four days of mingling and games and dancing and drinking and food. Really not her cup of tea.

And apparently not Alenko’s, either.

He’d made a beeline for the bar as soon as they’d entered, and returned with an easier stride and a glass full of some bubbling neon sugary shit for her. She’d have preferred something stronger, of course, but they do have a mission to complete. If they can manage to get Polona alone for a moment.

She slips her hand into the crook of his elbow and feels him stiffen, then relax. Quick and conscious. He’s nervous, out of place, on edge, and then completely calm and collected.

No doubt in her mind he was the right pick for this one.

The thought settles her stomach, and just in time. Two asari approach, their hands extended in enthusiastic welcome.

“Greetings!” one of them says, with a voice smooth and sweet as wildflower honey. “Oh, what a lovely pair you two make. Right out of the vids, could be. This one’s even better looking up close, don’t you think so, Liria?” The asari takes Alenko’s hand, sensual and deliberate, then turns her attention to Kyra. “And goddess, that dress is stunning; really, sweetie, it fits you like a glove. You”—she drags one finger down Alenko’s lapel—“are a lucky man, I hope you know.”

Eyes wide, he clears his throat and coughs, then regains his composure with a brief glance in Kyra’s direction.

The second asari offers an apologetic look to each of them in turn. “Rialla, darling, slow down or you’ll scare them off.”

“They certainly look sturdy enough.”

“I am so sorry. She’s had quite a bit to drink, I’m afraid. Never could pace herself at a wedding.” She laughs. “My name is Liria, and my companion’s name is Rialla, and ever since we saw you walk in, we have just been itching to get to know you.”

Kyra plasters what she hopes is a warm smile on her face, mentally pulling up her cover identity as reference. “Emily, and I’m delighted to meet you both. This is John, my um—”

“Her very lucky partner.”

The two matriarchs titter and tease him, both in turn, and once again he’s in control. Kyra can’t help but be impressed by how effortlessly he charms them. And she’s far from immune. It’s her mission, yet she is all too prepared to be led around the room by that firm hand at the small of her back.

Staff Lieutenant Kaidan Alenko: respected Alliance Marine, powerful L2 biotic, all-around stand-up guy, and—apparently—a smooth son-of-a-bitch. It’s an unexpected feature for someone so soft-spoken and unpretentious. Like he has a hidden switch somewhere.

Or a button.

Press For Instant Charisma.

She briefly entertains the idea of hunting for it, then aborts the thought with a twist of her lips and tunes back in to the conversation.

---

The lie is getting easier. Shepard is tucked under Kaidan’s arm, and he’s almost comfortable.

Their new friends are exactly the right sort. Nosy, talkative, well into their cups, and connected. Old friends of their mark, both of them, and Liria has history with Benezia herself. Shepard spins her tale about a chance meeting with the missing matriarch at a charity benefit and their tapering correspondence, followed by a rumor igniting hope for reconnection. And they eat it right up.

All he has to do is act natural and help Shepard keep them talking.

“Well, you know Polona wasn’t only Benezia’s lawyer.” Liria leans in close, her voice not quite as hushed as she probably intended. “They were involved, some centuries back. Quite the scandal at the time, but then Benezia always had... selfish tendencies. Now, I’m not sure why they parted ways, or how serious it was, but—”

Not to be outdone, Rialla’s hands flutter for attention as she pipes in. “It must be more than a passing fling from two hundred years ago, though, because I heard that her Turian lover—or, well, husband now—almost called off this very wedding!”

“Really?” Shepard asks. What’s supposed to be idle curiosity is bordering on serious interest, her voice taking on a firm, interrogative quality to match her narrowed gaze, but a brush of his thumb on her shoulder and she reigns it in. Loosens up with a tilt of her head and a hand to his thigh that has him tensing up instead.

“Oh, yes,” Rialla says. “It was all very tenuous there for a while. And to think, then the four of us would never have met!”

Kaidan raises his glass with a smile as genuine as he can muster. “A tragic loss for us, to be sure.”

With a deep, warm smile, Rialla fans her face and leans in close to Shepard, but speaks for the whole table to hear. “Do let me know when you're finished with him, would you, dear? I think I may be quite in love.”

He's fine until Shepard smirks, then he's far too warm. Suffocating.

He tugs at his collar. “You think their, uh, conflict had something to do with Polona and Benezia’s involvement?”

“I seriously doubt it,” Liria says with a dismissive wave of her hand. “That was ages ago, not yesterday. Beni’s still pining after Aeth—”

Rialla laughs. “Oh, it’s Beni, now? I had no idea you were such intimate friends!”

“I’m 800 years old, my dear.” Liria scoffs. “I have quite a few friends you don’t know about.”

“Is that supposed to make me jealous?”

“Of course not, don’t be silly!”

“Silly? Goddess, must you always be so patronizing?”

“Must you always twist my words?”

“Oh, here we go!”

The situation spirals into chaos before either he or Shepard can recover it, and she stands up from the table, pulling at his elbow.

“I love this song,” she mutters pointedly, and leads him to the dance floor. It’s a slow number, thank god. He’s not nearly drunk enough to dance to something with a beat.

They sway slowly, and she presses close, his neck prickling underneath her palm. His own hands settle on her waist, then more naturally to her hips.

“Damn,” she whispers. “Damn.”

“I know. But hey, we’ve got the rest of the night. And tomorrow night. And the next night. And—”

“The next night, I know.” She groans and drops her head to his shoulder.

Kaidan smiles into her hair.

---

The night is officially over. The band is still playing, but most of the guests are gone, and despite making a number of connections, they’ve learned nothing more about Benezia's whereabouts.

They have, however, made decent use of the open bar.

Kyra downs the last of her champagne and orders a cocktail, dealer's choice. It arrives glowing and smoking and she takes the skyward trajectory of Alenko’s brows as a personal challenge not to hesitate.

A potent combination of peppermint and blueberries and battery acid hits the back of her throat and makes her head swim on contact.

Next to her, Alenko is nursing his third.

“How’s your drink?” he asks.

“Surprising.”

“In a good way or a bad way?”

“Um… Yes.” She clinks her fingernail against his glass. “How’s your whiskey?”

He frowns and takes a sip. “This is not whiskey.”

“Didn’t realize you were such a connoisseur.”

“No, I mean it is literally not whiskey. Didn’t have it, I guess.” He drinks again. “It’s weird, right? Walk into any bar on Earth and they’ll have a dozen to pick from, but soon as you take off…”

“Yeah.” She sighs. “No burgers. No guac. No ice cream.”

The low chuckle he gives is a sound she’d like to hear again. And again, and again, and—

“When you put it like that, this spacer life is a real sorry existence.”

Kyra nods and wonders what he misses most from home. Or who. But that is none of her business, so she empties her glass and tips the bartender in preparation to leave.

“Sorry tonight was a bust, Shepard.”

“It wasn’t a total loss. Decent food, free booze.” She rests her chin on one closed fist. “Good company.”

“By that, I assume you mean our new asari friends.”

“Sure.”

Holding his gaze is harder than it should be. He cradles his nearly-empty glass and taps his fingers in sequence. Up and down, like a zipper.

At last, he looks away. “I was going to say ‘beautiful,’ by the way.”

“Hmm?”

“Earlier, before we left. I was going to tell you how incredible you looked, but then you interrupted me, and I never really got the chance to say it so I figured I might as well say it now.”

Warmth rises in her belly and she rides it like a wave, unscathed and unchanged on the other side. She turns to face him, wriggling in the seat in preparation like he’s about to try and upend her. “All right, Alenko. Hit me. I’m ready.”

He gives a huff of nervous laughter, one hand going straight to the back of his neck. “Well, uh... that was pretty much it.”

“That’s it? You waited all night to tell me that you were going to tell me I looked beautiful, but didn’t?”

His lips roll together, and he cedes the point with a tilt of his head, then meets her eyes again before his take a slow, uncertain wander around the rest of her features.

“Shepard,” he says when he makes it back, and it’s a name so overused it may as well be a title—but not spoken like that. Low and drawn out and a little bit reverent, it becomes almost intimate for the first time in years and she can't help but wonder how her first might sound.

“You look really beautiful tonight.”

Oh. Oh no. Kyra knows she should say thank you, and tell him to finish his drink so they can get out of here, but this next wave won’t subside and the air won’t reach her lungs and all she can do is stare at him.

“I mean, not just tonight, but especially—” he continues, visibly flustered by her silence. “You know, the dress and the lips—ah, make-up! And, and the hair and everything, it’s just very, um, tasteful, and… Um.” He clears his throat and pushes his drink away by inches, folding his hands tight together. "Feel free to stop me anytime.”

Ah. There. That’s the Alenko she knows and can handle.

“Now why would I do a thing like that?” she says, sending a silent prayer of thanks to whichever god kept her voice from breaking.

The smile they exchange is soft and charged and it smooths him over. His eyes are brown. Kyra knew that already, but clinically. On paper. Hair: black. Eyes: brown. Year of birth: 2151.

She didn’t know it like this, tangibly, all wrapped up and swept away in a simple fact.

This time she’s the one to give in. “You know, you should really keep that button pressed, Alenko.”

“What?”

“The charisma button.” She jerks her head toward the door, grabs his hand for the sake of anyone who might still be awake and sober enough to notice, and leads him out. “Push it. More.”

“I— what?”

Kyra chuckles to herself and steps into the elevator. “Forget it.”

The doors close once she chooses a floor and she regrets taking his hand because now she has to let go.

Kiss me. Come on, Alenko. Quick, before we go back. She can’t think it any louder, can’t make it any clearer without crossing a line. Be better if he does it, but he won’t. She knows he wants to just like she knows he never will, because he’s a good soldier and a good soldier doesn’t fuck with the chain of command. Not without a compelling reason, at least, and she can’t give him one.

Their floor lights up and reality pours in. He follows her across the dock, at a distance now that no one who would care might be watching.

Kyra takes a sharp, deep breath. Three more nights of this—unless they can get their intel sooner. Three more nights of flirting and dancing and soft touches all for show and not to keep. Maybe she should have brought Williams after all. Or Garrus. Or anyone else.

Distracted, she nearly trips getting into the shuttle, and somehow he’s right there, a broad hand on her waist to steady her.

A nod and he detaches. Steps back. “Ma’am.”

Ma’am. But he is a terrible liar, and she’s never been good at a long con.

[dynyamight]

bkdk … 12 ? ༼ つ ◕◡◕ ༽つ

12. “I think we need to talk."

The moment Bakugou opened the gym doors, and smelled rain in the air, he knew he had to book it back to the dorms.

Slamming his feet on the pavement floor, he forces himself to run out. His muscles ache all over, and his arms barely want to stay up, pumping at his side. But, he rather try and make his way to his room dry, than have a downpour soak him to his bones.

By the time he reaches to the safe, dry front steps of the dorm building, the rain finally begins. Lightly, the drops splatter slowly to the ground.

Catching his breath, Bakugou stops by the rails, holding onto one side as his muscles cramp. His thighs are burning, and his arms want to fall off entirely. But, he let's his mind focus on the pain.

He's had a rough fucking week, and for once, his mind was elsewhere.

“It’s starting to rain now, isn’t it.”

Bakugou jolts, quickly facing up to that familiar voice. That voice that haunts his dreams, ingrained deep into his mind. That voice that makes his heart race just a little quicker. That voice, from the one and only.

That forgetful nerd.

“Ah, sorry! I didn’t mean to spook you.’ Midoriya says quickly, offering an apologetic smile. He’s sitting on the front porch, holding onto a book close to his chest. “You probably thought you were the only one out here, right?”

“..You don’t have to apologize.” He breathes out. Despite the haywire of his nerves, exploding his insides, the words roll off his tongue easily. It's oddly the same phrase he's used each time they've met. "S'not like you personally screwed me over."

"Ah, my bad—"

"What did I just say."

“I—" Midoriya weakly chuckles, shaking his curls. "I guess I can't help it. I promise I won't forget.”

No matter how many times Bakugou hears that, it always sounds so genuine, so real. Rather than an empty promise. "I'll hold you to it, Deku." He mutters, regardless.

"What does that—" A light shines through Midoriya's gaze, and immediately he smiles. "Wait, you know what. I swear that's not the first time someone has said that to me. Deku."

Chills run down Bakugou’s spine. That's never happened. He's never slipped up. Fuck. “..Really?”

“Yeah, it sounds so familiar. But, I don’t remember exactly where I've heard it before.”

Both disappointment and relief flood his whole entire body. He doesn’t know what he would do if Midoriya would remember all his terrible attempts, though a part of him did yearn for recognition.

However, maybe it was for the best. Give them a fresh start, every time. Fucking hip hip hurray.

Hell, maybe this was the world's way of sending him all the karma that he has built up. It decided to pick the one person he deeply cares about, and make both of them suffer.

Bakugou looks back at the book Midoriya held, something in his mind reminding him about one of the first talks since the incident. “Is that Catch-22?” Bakugou asks, pointing it out.

It takes a moment for the question to visibly register through Midoriya's brain. But, when it does, Bakugou can tell by the way Midoriya’s eyes widen and the wide grin on his face that grows, “You've read it?”

“Nah, just heard about it. A lot.” He doesn’t need to explain himself further.

Leaving his seat off the bench, Midoriya rushes up to Bakugou’s face, eagerly leaning in. “I highly recommend it! It’s a literature masterpiece, the best of its genre!”

For a moment, Midoriya looks up to Bakugou’s gaze, eyes bright in interest. However, the next second, he looks away, with a feeble laugh as he scratches the side of his head nervously. “In my humble, personal opinion, of course..”

“What does it even mean?” Bakugou asks instead, holding tight to their conversation. He refuses to let it go for even a second. “Catch-22.”

“Oh. Uhh, the best way I can describe it,” Midoriya lifts his chin in thought. His gaze drifts up, as if he was wracking through his brain like it were a couple of shelves, “is that it's a dilemma from which someone cannot escape from, because of a set of contradictory rules.”

Bakugou scoffs. “Give an example. I’m too fucking tired to decipher whatever the fuck you just said.”

“Okay, okay!" Midoriya laughs, "It’s like job applications. How can you gain any experience for a job, unless you get a job that gives you experience?”

“Like, how in order to apply for a loan, you have to prove to the bank that you don’t need one?”

“Yes! Exactly that.”

“That shit has a name?”

“They’re hard to find, but even in everyday life, we can find ourselves in our own catch-22’s without realizing it! Isn’t that crazy? For all we know, life itself could be one!” Midoriya rambles, growing louder and louder, to the point Bakugou swears he can hear his voice echo.

Though, Bakugou doesn’t mind. This alone is possibly the most Midoriya has said to him, with all encounters combined.

Surprisingly, a blush forms over Midoriya’s cheeks. “I didn’t mean to babble on like that.”

“How do you get someone to remember you,” Bakugou starts, before he can stop himself from asking, “when they keep forgetting who you are every time?”

Midoriya stares.

Quickly, Bakugou coughs, “Ain't that a catch-22?”

For a small moment, all he can hear is the rain, pattering down the pavement around them. But, then, Midoriya hums, tilting his head, lips pursed. “Yeah, it most definitely is. Though, I've never heard of that one, before.”

"Yeah well," Bakugou shoves his sweating hands into the pockets of his hoodie. “That’s the fucking dumpster fire I’m in.”

“With all respect, does your person have medical reasons why they keep forgetting?” Midoriya asks slowly, immediate concern filling his expression.

“Not that I know of." Bakugou admits, "But, I wouldn’t put it past them. Or, they might be plain stupid.”

“That's rude!" However, the accusation sounds fairly weak, when Midoriya's chuckling.

He feels the corners of his lips upturning. "What's 'rude' is the damn bastard not remembering anything, other than random, trivial shit." Bakugou huffs. "Which changes, daily."

"And, you say nothing works? Not even telling them?"

"Yeah. 'Cause they'll fucking forget the next day."

"Have they ever wrote about you?”

Bakugou does a double take. When did Midoriya ever— “Wrote about me?”

Nodding, Midoriya gestures behind him, to the backpack beside the bench. “Personally, I've been using lots of sticky notes, planners, and journals to jot down things I need to remember.”

“Again, my memory's a bit distorted, so in order to tell my future self what I need to know, I write it out for me to read, the next day. Maybe that’ll work for your person?”

Writing. So that the next Midoriya can read it and remember. “..Would it work, if I wrote it?"

Midoriya furrows his brows. "I think it would be better if the person wrote it out for themselves. You know, so that it helps to jog their memory."

Suppressing the immediate heart drop he feels in the pit of his stomach, Bakugou exhales a big sigh. "There's a lot of shit the fucker needs to remember. His purpose. His quirk. His dream. Lots of important shit."

"Why not start with you?" Midoriya smiles, reassuringly. "They're bound to have a diary entry all about you."

Immediately, Bakugou's irked. "I ain't writing material."

"I think you are. Good writing material." Midoriya confesses, never letting that dopey, wobbly smile drop, "I don't know your name, but everything about you is unforgettable, to say the least. I bet even someone like me will recognize you next time."

But, you don't. Bakugou thinks, feeling the tug at his heart tighten, choking him from the inside. You never do.

From the pocket of his gym shorts, Bakugou starts feeling his phone vibrate, before it rings. Despite that, Midoriya's jump causes him to be just as startled.

Rubbing a hand to his neck, Midoriya weakly chuckles, "Sad. We were just starting to get to know each other."

Bakugou doesn't respond.

'ALL MIGHT.' The caller ID states in bold letters.

"I gotta go." Bakugou states firmly, holding tightly around his phone. "I need to take this call."

Midoriya's smile fades, but quickly it's picked up. "Yeah, no worries. I've probably been keeping you outside for too long."

Bakugou curtly nods, "You have."

And yet, even when the ringing persists, loudly telling him to walk away, leave, he stays. Because, Midoriya just looks like he doesn't want him to go.

He doesn't want to go, either.

"I never got your name." Midoriya mentions quietly.

Why would I give it, if you won't even remember?

Yet, that freckled, doey eyed face Midoriya's got never brings out the rationale, spiteful side of him out. Because, no matter how many times he has to say it, he'll do it again, and again. In a heartbeat.

"Just call me Kacchan."

Visibly, Midoriya's taken aback. Though, with the phone call on its last few rings, he finally steps off to the side, giving Bakugou space to walk.

"I'll see you around then," Midoriya waves off to him, "Kacchan."

A personal hell. Bakugou's living his personal hell.

When he walks inside the dorm building, the emotions suddenly hit him hard. Every day, he has to keep putting up with this crap.

Midoriya greeting him, talking to him, and saying goodbye, like a damn fucking stranger.

It kills him, eating away at his brain, knowing Midoriya's unable to look at him, and see nothing, but a stranger staring back.

When looking at Midoriya meant the world to him.

With a swift thumb swipe, Bakugou slides the phone call open. He clears his throat. "What now old man."

"I think we need to talk." All Might's voice crackles. "Privately. The sooner, the better. It's about the quirk that's been affecting young Midoriya."

His entire body tenses, halting him still. "..What about it.."

All Might sighs, long and tired. "The authorities found some intel about the culprit behind the memory loss. And, well.."

"Well, what?" Bakugou snaps.

"Midoriya's in deeper trouble, than we thought."

[ordinaryschmuck]

What I Thought About "Hunting Palismans" From The Owl House

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

Today, I present to you reason #4,693 for why The Owl House is the best thing at the moment: It's the perfect balance of serialized storytelling with an episodic format. The story always moves forward with an exact order for how episodes should be watched, but each episode still functions as its own standalone tale. Having prior knowledge of what happened before adds more to the experience, but you can still watch whatever you want and still have an enjoyable time. Take "Hunting Palismans," for example. It adds so much more to the overarching narrative while slightly continuing other threads. But it's still something you can watch as is without remembering the past or wondering about the future.

However, to properly explain how requires spoilers. I wasn't kidding when I say that this episode adds so much, so you're going to want to be wary of that when you continue reading.

With that said, let's review, shall we?

WHAT I LIKED

Coven Heads Meeting: We already saw these fellow schmucks in the trailer, but that doesn't take away how cool they are! It's not explicitly stated which head belongs to which coven, but you can already tell who goes where just from their designs alone. And I love that. I love that just by showing us some excellent character designs, anybody with half a brain can already figure out the particular type of magic each Coven Head specializes in. It's a perfect example of the show-don't-tell level of storytelling that is always at its best through animation, and I'm all for it because of it.

What the Day of Unity is: Several fans, myself included, have already speculated that the Day of Unity was that Emperor Belos planned to combine the human world with the Boiling Isles and rule it all with an iron fist. That being said, figuring it out is one thing, but being told that it's true is a whole different level pants-s**ting horror that I AM NOT READY FOR! Even when it's going to happen, I can assure you that I will not be prepared to witness it ...and I am scared of when it does.

Belos Body Horror: ...Disney, I was already scared s**tless of this guy. I DO NOT NEED THIS!

That being said, seeing Belos do...whatever the f**k that was, helps explain further why he needs the magic in palismans. I always assumed because it's like fuel for a car, giving him the power he needs. Now, even though the answer is more apparent, there are still some questions to be had. Is he cursed, and the magic keeps it at bay like Eda's potions? Or did he experiment with the wrong type of magic, and the palismans keep him stable? Only the future can say for sure...and I'm also not prepared for the answers from that either.

Golden Guard is Belos’ Nephew: Gosh dangit, THE INTRO HASN'T EVEN STARTED YET, AND THIS EPISODE IS ALREADY GIVING SO MUCH!

But, yeah, the most powerful witch on the Isles is apparently Golden Boy's Grunkle Belos. That very knowledge is incredibly interesting to discuss while presenting possibilities for future narratives. I don't know about you, but I see the Golden Guard going down the path of Zuko, learning that the magic of friendship is worth much more than whatever power he gains from being Belos' nephew. And possibly earning his uncle's love seeing how he's the only family he has. It's a situation that's vastly different from Amity's because even when she defies her parents, she'll still have Edric and Emira at the end of the day. For Golden Guard, knowing that he lost a great family to wild magic, the inclination to go against Belos is a lot weaker due to him being all he has left.

Oh, and also, Belos' family getting wiped out because of wild magic. Yeah, not only does that give the best type of motivation for Belos' distaste for it, but it also explains the Golden Guard's hesitance to use it. He's inclined to so he can save his uncle, sure. It's only the fact that he knows what happens with wild magic that causes some resistance...Also, we're less than a minute in, and I'm already getting all of this from one discussion between two characters.

HOW IS THIS SHOW SO GOOD?!

Intro Changes: It's about time too. It seems weird that the crew waited to change Eda and King's designs in the intro this late in the game, but it also tells me that Amity dying her hair lavender is the last huge change this season will present. Otherwise, why change the intro at all if you were going to alter Luz, Willow, and Gus' designs anyway? It just doesn't make sense to me.

Luz Keeping the Echo Mouse as a Pet: The fact that she keeps the most important creature in the world to her as a pet...it's...it's adorable, alright? And as we established several times, I cannot hate adorable things.

Don't judge me!

Amity Staying Home: There are two plausible ways why Amity didn't go to school that day. Either she's getting punished for dying her hair or because she's trying to avoid Luz so they won't talk about the you-know-what. Either could work and seem understandable to Luz, thus explaining why she admits how "that makes sense." Although, there is something to discuss in how Luz is curious as to where Amity is. Judging from the tone of her voice, it's pretty clear that she wants to talk about the little peck on the cheek and maybe get some confirmation as to what it means. Because there is no going back from that. You can explain away saying or doing something stupid, but you cannot un-kiss a cheek. That is a point of no return, and if Amity really is avoiding Luz because of it, that means it's up to our favorite weirdo to make the first move. As for what that may entail...we'll just have to wait and see.

Frewin: We get two bits of information here for the price of one reveal here. Knowing that Frewin is a palisman is shocking enough, but the knowledge that Bump is partially blind and needs Frewin to see? That is an intriguing piece of intel that I would have never expected to get revealed. This is reason #5,279 for what makes The Owl House so good. Even when the show presents information you wouldn't guess, it's all so interesting anyways that you can't help but go along with it.

Adopting Palismans: First of all, love the fact that the Bat Queen makes a return to provide a solution to the palisman trees being rare and solving her own problem regarding the discarded palismans. It's a situation where everyone wins in a way that is so clever that I can't help but admire it.

Second, the idea of students choosing to adopt palismans instead is cute. I'd say it gives further insight into who these characters are in how they say what they want to be, but there's nothing really new added that fans couldn't figure out from the get go. But I will say that it's pretty cool to know that these characters have official staffs now. Speaking of which, if you're upset that their palismans don't match up with your headcanons...grow up.

This was a cute and smartly written scene that should not be bogged down by whiney fans who can't accept a series doing something different from what they expect.

Little Rascal: I’d take a bullet for this bird. That is all.

Luz Being Uncertain of her Future: A lot of fans offer several ideas of what the future could look like for Luz. Will she stay in the Boiling Isles? In Connecticut? Or will she go back and forth? We don't know, but one question we rarely brought up is what does Luz want? More specifically, what does she want to do? After everything Luz went through, the adventures she's gone on, and the lessons learned, what is something that Luz wants her future to be? That's an answer she doesn't really figure out, and I'm genuinely ok with that being a question that's tabled for another day. Most kids who ask that question themselves aren't always going to find an answer after a short amount of time and sometimes even need to spend their lives trying to figure it out. So having it be something Luz has to consider and probably find out in a future episode is the smarter option, as it allows time for it to simmer in her own mind and provides more insight into her character. As stated several times in this episode, she doesn't think things through, so it's nice that the writers finally allowed her some time to wonder what's next when the adventure is over.

Luz Having to Improvise Without Paper Glyphs: You want to know what my favorite Spider-Man moments are (this is relevant. Trust me). My favorite moments are when Spidey's web-shooters run out of fluid, and he's forced to improvise with that big brain of his to find a solution. That's sort of what happens with Luz in "Hunting Palismans." She didn't bring her glyphs with her (why would she), so she's forced to use the environment around her to make new ones. Plus, Luz also flexes her knowledge of the Boiling Isles by mixing her glyphs with a magical plant (which Willow certainly told her about) so that she and the Golden Guard could knock out Kikimora's dragon. It's yet another showcase of her intelligence that a lot of fans are too keen to overlook. Unfortunate to see, too, because looking at how well Luz can craft the perfect solutions by fighting smarter, not harder, is a fantastic add-on to her personality. I love characters who win through their wits rather than their raw powers, and I once again hope more people will catch onto that aspect of her too.

Golden Guard Whistling the Theme: Look, I love it when a show acknowledges its own theme song, ok? Leave me alone.

Luz and the Golden Guard: This is one of those dynamics you didn't know you wanted until you have it. And now that I have it, I DEMAND MORE!

Seriously, seeing these two interact off of each other was a ton of fun to watch. When Luz and GG are initially at each other's throats, their threats and mockery towards one another aren't out of spiteful anger between two mortal enemies. It's more like...two siblings who get on each other's nerves yet are supposed to deal with one another. It's equally adorable and hilarious, and yes, I absolutely loved that they're forced to work together in this episode because of it.

Although, while the entertainment value is fantastic, it also adds more proof of why Luz is the best character in the series. She spends one night with this guy, and that's more than what she needed to make a difference with him. I wouldn't go so far as to say that they're buddies now, but Luz definitely sowed the seeds into his redemption. He's far from willing to join her side, but he still does something he rarely does with anyone else: He told her that his name is Hunter. And this is what Luz does. Through nearly every person she meets on the Boiling Isles, she always manages to change them for the better. It'll be a while before Hunter deflects from Belos, but if Amity proves anything, Luz has a way of sneaking into people's hearts. They just need to spend more time with one another, and I can't wait to see what happens next because of it.

Kikimora Wanting to Kill Hunter: This shows a lot about who Kikimora is, but it potentially proves just how dysfunctional the Emperor's Coven can be. If Kiki proves anything, the coven must be filled with people willing to backstab and cheat their way to get on Emperor Belos' good side. Just look at Lilith. She literally cursed her own sister just to get in and received all the rewards because of it. The Emperor's Coven may be the best choice for witches to do magic, but if you're surrounded by people you can't trust, then is it really worth it?

The Guards Not Knowing Who Hunter is: This helps add to how much of a big deal it is for Hunter to reveal his name to Luz. If people can't even recognize his face, there's a chance it means that he keeps his true identity a secret except for those in his inner circle.

And the coven guards brushing off his brand is more than believable to me. They may be aware that Belos' right hand is young, but teens will be teens. Anybody with enough artistic talent can fake a brand. So it isn't too far off for those two to think Hunter was just a kid pulling a prank.

Hunter is Powerless Without his Staff: Not much to say here. It's just some more neat insight into Hunter's character that makes me wonder if even Belos' magic is real magic.

But I will say this: The fact that Hunter comes from a lineage of powerless witches, well, who's to say that isn't because of a...certain ancestor?

(*Cough* Hunter is related to Philip *Cough*)

Hunter vs Kiki: A pretty well-animated fight scene that adds potential drama to the story for the future. Now that Kikimora knows that Hunter helped Luz escape with the palismans (albeit unwillingly), she may or may not hold that over his head when the time comes. Or, at the very least, decides to keep a closer eye on him whenever he makes a slip-up.

Eda and King Getting Luz her own Palisman Wood: These last two weeks have been severely lacking in the Eda and King department, but scenes like this more than make up for it. Those two have formed such a bond with Luz to the point where they would do the impossible if it meant she would feel better. It proves just how much of a family they all are and the lengths they would go for each other. After all, weirdos have to stick together.

Little Rascal going to Hunter: Hunter is right. That was surprising.

Given how much Little Rascal stuck by Luz, I was more than positive that she would be the one he chose. So seeing Little Rascal pick Hunter instead is a much nicer twist. There could be multiple reasons why, and I'm just going to leave that to the analyzers in this fandom to decide. Especially since the answer isn't really all that important.

So, instead, I'm going to go ahead and sit in the corner as I wOrRy AbOuT tHe DaY tHaT bElOs FiNdS lItTlE rAsCal!

IT'S GONNA HAPPEN! AND I SWEAR TO ALL THAT IS HOLY, IF THE WRITERS KILL HIM, I WILL NOT BE HAPPY!

WHAT I DISLIKED

First, there's...um...

Well, there was this...

Ok, as much as I liked--No, that turned out well anyways...

…

...

...I've got nothing.

I, honest to goodness, have no complaints about "Hunting Palismans" Not even the tiniest of nitpicks I would usually ignore due to how well-executed everything else was.

It's all written fantastically to the point where it's...perfect.

IN CONCLUSION

"Hunting Palismans" is an easy A+. It introduces even more plot threads, gives insight into characters, and despite being essential to the story, it still manages to be a fun episode all on its own. And, I'd go so far as to say that it's one of the best, if not the best, episodes in the series. There's nothing bad about it, and that surprises me. I rarely find nothing bad to say about any story, even the ones I enjoy greatly. I'm sure there are some flaws that others would be more than happy to point out, but why bother hunting for the imperfections when I could accept that, for once, an episode is simply perfect.

(And that’s six hits in a row...THAT STINKER IS GOING TO HAPPEN! It hasn’t happened yet, BUT IT’S GOING TO HAPPEN! I CAN FEEL IT!)

[i-cant-sing]

Daniel and YN part 9 🌗🌗

“Sensei, I think we have a lead on Daniel and YN.” “Tell me more, Tomura.” Shigaraki’s spine tingles when his master speaks.

His father figure, his sensei. Desperate to please, he pulled up the file his rat in the police station grabbed. “Last week there was an incident at the cafe in the pink district. There were several vases destroyed from an unknown explosion. The windows were cracked from trembling so hard. Almost all the footage tapes were melted, melted in the camera holder. When examined, the broken materials were giving off radiation. Radiation so bad it left a cop in the hospital.” “Interesting… you said almost all the footage?” “Yes. My rat got me the only tape that survived. When I watched it, I think I saw them.” AFO tilted his head. It was progressing faster than planned, but of course he was prepared for that possibility. Daniel seemed to be more subject to his emotions than his sister. Over the years AFO did not see an improvement on his mental development. It seemed that he would need to intervene sooner than expected if he did not want to lose his child to a hero. “Sensei. There’s also news that All Might and his protege are investigating the incident.” Now that was a complication. All Might and his other child should not be allowed total influence over the two. It was time to enact a different plan. One that involved seeing his past wife. “Thank you Tomura. I want you to keep an eye out for them. They are not to be harmed. I have to make arrangements. When you find them make sure you keep a nullifier on hand. In case Daniel needs to be calmed down.” With that, AFO hung up and opened a portal to the Midoryia household. He hasn’t gone by Midoryia for a long time, but even so he did not expect a warm welcome from his past wife. And when she opened the door to him, the look of worry on her face confirmed his suspicions. “They’re not here. Izuku is out trying to find YN. You can’t lash out at him or All Might. They’re-” “I plan to find them first. Izuku is not capable of handling Daniel’s quirk if they upset him. And you underestimate YN. She is very adept at hiding and defense.” “How would you know?” “Because I keep a watchful eye on all my children.” “All your..?” “Four years before we conceived Izuku, I donated my DNA for a little… experiment. The mother had a minor quirk involving radiation. From that pregnancy cane Daniel. Four years later, months after we conceived Izuku, I had my DNA donated again. YN was born from that.” “They 're just experiments to you?” “At first, yes. I did not plan to get attached. But I did. And I have been attached since. I was there when Daniel first displayed reminances of a quirk. I was there when YN learned to balance herself on a high wire. I found them when they were lost. I arranged for her mother’s job to move her to this district and apartment building. I’m the reason you gained custody of them if you recall the deal we made.” “I…” “My point is I may not have been there for Izuku’s life but I have been there for my other two. And I don’t plan to relinquish my children to All Might or those heroes. Is that understood, All Might?” Inko turned around to see her son and his mentor standing in the doorway. Both were glaring at the villain. Ready to ounce at him if need be. But without him she would lose the children. “Mom get away from him.” “Is that any way to speak to your father Izuku?” “YOU LEFT!” Before the fighting could get any worse Inko stood between them. “My baby, my love.” She turned to All Might and Izuku. “We may not like it but he is their father. And he probably would be useful to returning YN and Daniel safely. We have to sit down and figure this out. For them.” So with great tension, Two rivals sat across a dinner table along with a green haired boy and a troubled mother. All discussing the custody of two individuals that didn’t belong to them. 🌗🌗

Daniel and YN part 10 🌗🌗

Sometimes YN wished she had made more of an effort to make friends. Yes Daniel was her best and closest friend, but it would be nice to have a girl or boy her own age to talk to. Someone that she could talk about stupid crap with. She tried being friends with Izuku when she and her brother officially moved in with the Midoryia’s, but they never saw her or Daniel as their own people. Izuku never really cared that YN was great at math. The best in her class. That she had a tiny interest in math because the answers were always exact and never had to be debated. He didn’t bother to care that YN liked reading romance and horror stories, that she really liked cheesy murder mystery movies with a twist villain hidden in plain sight. Izuku knew those things about her, but he just wrote it down in his notebook and filed it away like she wasn’t a person. They were no better to Daniel either. He was treated like an incompetant child. Like he was stupid and a baby. Sure he was disabled but he wasn’t incapable of everything. If they bothered talking and treating him like a person they’d see how complex he was. They’d see that he was so talented when he painted, that he could find a focus on the small important details. That Daniel, while he couldn’t understand complex emotions, could create beautiful things. Daniel had a delayed mind, but he loved figuring out puzzles. Daniel loved pinwheels and painted windmills, loved when they spun to beautiful colours. But did they care, no they saw only a child that needed to be coddled and kept away from how beautiful the world could be. YN couldn’t help but tear up as she held her knees to her chest. Why? Why couldn’t Izuku have been the friend she needed when her parents died? Why didn’t she try harder to make friends when she was at public school? Why did she act so introverted and angry at everyone? Just as she was about to cry, YN felt two long arms wrap around her. “Why you sad?” “It’s nothing really. I just… I really miss momma and pop. I really wish they were here.” “....Me too.” So the two hugged tightly. For tonight and every night that will come, they’ll have each other. In another place, a skinny blue haired villain placed a severed hand on his face. Determined to please his master, his father figure, Shigaraki set out to find the two troubled teens. They couldn’t be hidden forever. Besides, AFO should be allowed to see his children. He was their father, by blood. Shigaraki wasn’t an idiot though. He knew that the incident caused a commotion for those hungry for power. Ready to use quirk off the Boy. Shigaraki made sure to send some of his underlings out to gather intel and report whether or not other crimelords had their sights and claws on the teens. He had to be careful not to cause a scene and bring the heroes upon them. As the cold night blew his hair slightly, Shigaraki pondered the situation. Sensei had a wife, and three children? But not all share the same mother. He didn’t raise his three children, but he looked after them. But out of all of them Sensei chose to raise Shigaraki. He felt special. Sensei wanted to be near him. Nonetheless, these two were family. His sorta siblings. And he would bring them home. 🌗🌗

Daniel and YN part 11 🌗🌗

Young Izuku had the foundations to be a great hero. He was kind, string in heart, brave, and a little stupid. Toshinori knew that he would make a fine owner of OFA. And when he trained the boy he saw the makings of a new symbol of peace. Inko was a beautiful woman, even if she was too anxious to notice. He felt this urge to love and protect her. And over the months with her and Izuku, they formed a genuine love. Toshinori was a little concerned at first when he met YN and Daniel though. He did not really understand why they were kept so sheltered and why they were so babied. YN seemed like a capable young woman. But like with Izuku and Inko, the more time he spent near them, the more he felt protective, loving, obsessive. “Ah, good morning young YN. How was your night?” “What do you think. You stole my switchblade.” Inko seemed to bristle a bit at YN’s angry tone. “Sweetie.. We just thought that you could get hurt. It’s for the best. You know that w-” “That you only want the best for me. Yea I heard the same argument over and over again. And each time it’s still bull.” Before either could reprimand her, she stomped to her room slamming the door. Mornings usually weren’t so great. Especially when the night before they had to make big decisions regr=arding her safety. On All Might’s days off he would spend time with the Midoryia’s, sometimes it would go smoothly and sometimes the mood couldn’t surpass a funeral. All Might felt that he should’ve noticed the signs that YN was going to run away sooner. Perhaps then he could have intervened and then the whole family could air out why things were the way they were.

The first signs had to be when YN kept interfering with the way Inko felt was right to take care of poor Daniel. “Come on Daniel, It’s time to go to the learning center.” “Oh sweetie, I forgot to tell you that we pulled Daniel out of the center classes.” “What?” When YN’s face turned, All Might could see that a screaming match would begin, well not really a match considering young YN would be doing all the screaming. He was just here to pick up young Midoryia but he couldn’t help but stop in. “Well it’s just that Daniel learns so much better at a home, and the center is full of so many people that would be mean to him. Besides, he doesn’t really need to be at the center when I can take care of him.” “Yes he does! How is he gonna learn to cook and clean and manage any type of money if you refuse to let him learn!?!” “Daniel’s mind can’t handle all the new information. He might start to panic and his quirk might-” “YOU don’t know a GODDAMN thing about him! About what is best for him! You wanna do what’s best for my brother?! Than STOP treating him like he’s completely incompetent!” Before she could yell another word All Might stepped in with his trademark ‘I AM HERE’ . “Now young YN that’s no way to speak to your foster mother. She just believes that someone more personal should be teaching Daniel these things. That's not so bad is it?” “But-” “IS IT?” “Fine.I’ll get my school work done early so that I can teach Daniel in the afternoon.”

With that the argument was resolved. If only that was the last time she lashed out at them. If only he prevented the biggest fight that broke out between Izuku and YN. “Will you stop pestering him about his quirk?! It obviously makes him uncomfortable!” YN had walked into the room seeing Izuku asking Daniel all sorts of questions about his quirk and how he used it. It would’ve been fine had he stopped at the first two questions, but he kept going on and on. Wouldn’t stop asking about the destructive qualities, or about how his mind sometimes couldn’t comprehend his own quirk. Izuku didn’t notice how uncomfortable Daniel was getting. “I was just asking him some questions!” “You were being a jerk!” Before Izuku could yell at her again, the table and the mirrors broke. Both turned to see Daniel staring furious and scared, tears streaming down his cheeks. “Don’t scream at my sister!” He spoke angrily. He was so brave, so ready to defend his baby sister. Daniel could’ve brought the whole room down, had All Might in his ultimate form not stepped and stopped him. All Might should’ve known not to grab him and held him down. He should’ve known that the constriction made Daniel panic. Made him destroy more things to make it stop. The screaming continued, until YN grabbed her brother and calmed him. They barricaded themselves in her room that night. And in the morning, the three tried to act like it didn’t happen. All Might took the kids out for the day. Celebrating Izuku’s placement in the hero program. The signs were there that day. The signs that they were going to run. That they were going to leave. If only All Might had seen the signs. If only Toshinori hadn’t gotten attached to them. 🌗🌗

Daniel and YN part 12 🌗🌗

Toshinori was a good man. He wasn’t perfect but he was a good man. He had a moral code and knew right from wrong. Though selfish desires sometimes took his attention more than the moral desires. He knew it was wrong to smother and coddle Daniel and YN, but he couldn’t help wanting to protect them. Even if they didn’t want it. He felt like Izuku, YN, and Daniel were like his children. He felt just as protective over Izuku as he was over YN and Daniel. But he couldn’t coddle him like the other two. He had a duty to Nana to pass on OFA, Izuku had to live up to that power now. And he was so dedicated to being a hero. Toshinori wanted to do right by all the kids. He felt that it was his duty to find his missing kids, and bring them home. Let YN know that he didn’t feel angry that she left. Let Daniel know that he was sorry. So before he could work with his arch enemy, he decided to learn more about the two. So that when they were found again, he could show them that he was ready to be a real mentor figure, a guardian. When he entered YN’s room, it was not what he expected. He thought the sullen looking problem child would have grunge posters, a dirty room, torn up clothes and what not. Imagine his surprise when he saw colourful mini lantern lights strung over the walls. A math book along with several romance and horror storybooks. Her bedspread was a mix of several pillows and a giant comforter. Something that he’s sure would look inviting after a long day. There was a fluffy rug that cushioned his feet. The curtains were dark and cut out all light. On her bookshelf there was a collection of old murder mystery and comedy movies. When he popped one into the small tv player, he felt a stronger connection than before with her. Laughing at the cheesy twists and overacting. She was more than just a quirkless victim. She felt like a daughter to him. Toshinori never understood why he never went into Daniel’s room before. Of course Inko was there. Holding Daniel’s favorite pillow. This room, like the other, was a window into someone that Toshinori never actually knew. For some reason he thought Daniel would have soft light wall colors and some doodles on the wall. But the walls were an earthy dark blue. His blankets were patterned with prints of old paintings. There were canvases of unfinished pieces of art littered around the desk and bed. Notes and papers of unconnected thoughts all tucked away in a drawer. He spotted a framed photo of what he assumed were Daniel’s parents. Hidden under his pillows. When he saw the ceiling, it was a mix of a starry night sky but had handprints all over. In various colors. Touching his own hand to the print, Toshinori felt a connection to the boy. It was like a click happened. He wasn’t just a boy struggling with his developmental disability. Daniel saw the world in colors and was just frustrated that no one could understand those colors. Daniel wasn’t an emotionally compromised person with a violent quirk, he was a boy who wanted to be happy and understood. That day, Toshinori finally felt the wall that was preventing him from really understanding these two was finally lifted. And had he been listening to his moral side he would’ve known to not pursue them. But his selfish side won that fight. With his new understanding came an ugly obsession. A protective instinct to hold and protect them even more. Whilst quirkless YN might be strong and smart, she was too emotional and easy to provoke. Daniel might not be safe out there either. He loses control when people don’t understand. But Toshinori understood now. He would keep his children safe. Izuku, Daniel, and YN. Even if he had to work with the devil. “I’ll bring you home. Everything will be okay. Because I am here.” 🌗🌗

Amazing work as always moon anon! The story has become quite interesting! Its inspiring me to write for platonic AFO, something that I've not talked about for quite a while. Him and well, Erasermic

[skipps-writes-for-gojo-satoru]

A short thread I found about Gojo's character that helps shine a light to how caring he is:

https://twitter.com/musikawu/status/1376984416485007363?s=19

Also, I actually just realized this recently after rewatching JJK that Gojo got super attached to Yuji really quickly. Gojo not only got very angry on his behalf but went out of his way to ask Nanami for help in caring for Yuji when he's supposed to be the strongest sorcerer. And at that time, Gojo made it clear to Nanami that he didn't ask him to do so due to Yuji's potential as a vessel. Gojo asked Nanami for this favor as an adult who wants to see the growth of a young man. Gojo was very precise in telling Nanami that he was looking not at Sukuna and Yuji's power, but at Yuji himself as not only an individual, but a child that needed nurturing and care. Before Yuji's death, Gojo had already even made preparations to have Yuta take care of Yuji cause he knew something might happen to him- even more development is that despite what Gojo says about himself, he's aware of his own flaws. What he appears to be on the outside is nothing like what he truly feels on the inside. He doesn't delude himself into narcissistic behavior that makes him unable to ask for help. He asks for help willingly and of his own accord- Yuta couldn't even fathom how the strongest sorcerer would face a problem he couldn't solve on his own, but Gojo does. Gojo is smart enough to know he needs to rely on others to move forward, and relying on someone means putting a certain amount of trust there. Gojo puts just as much faith in other people as he does himself, and the interesting part is that while it's more admirable to go out of your way to protect someone else, Gojo never brags about that. He only "brags" about things that will annoy the other person, but really he is only saying a commonly known "truth" in order to rile people up. It may sound like bragging- which it sort of is- but Gojo saying he's the strongest is not a lie. Him saying "I alone am the honoured one" is not necessarily a lie either. People don't call him the Strongest for nothing.

In fact, even more interestingly enough, besides Gojo, who includes Geto when people talk about the "strongest?" Despite being the definite "strongest," Gojo is the one who constantly says "We are the Strongest," not the other way around. He's also mature enough to recognize and point out other people's strengths, such as Mei Mei's, saying she is too strong to cry.

If Gojo truly was a narcissist, he would have mentioned everything else he's done for people, like stopping Megumi's sale to the Zenin clan and getting the Fushiguros financial aid. He could brag about being persuasive enough to save Yuji from execution or even saving Yuta from execution- Yuta becoming a special grade sorcerer soon after Gojo saved him is something you can easily brag about- but Gojo doesn't brag about his personal achievements at all- not in the way that demands respect from others, at least. Gojo only "brags" to tease others lightheartedly and to tick them off a little- and I don't think the demeaning things Gojo says to the higher ups can be used to show he's a narc because *many* people in Gojo's position would have said (and done) much, much worse things.

Also, when Yuji died, Gojo had become so emotional that even Shoko, who had been there since Gojo's youth, had commented on how unlike him it was. People irl really thought it was because Gojo couldn't use him as a weapon against the higher ups anymore, but reading how Gojo had told Nanami that he saw their relationship as an adult and a child makes me think differently. Something very important in the Light Novel is when Gojo tells Nanami that his students, because they are sorcerers, will soon have to "face the evil intentions of sh*tty humans." Not only sorcerers, but "every person has to bite into that bitterness, know what it means to give up, and pile up despairs to become an adult." People like Gojo and Nanami, Gojo had said, are capable of withstanding and releasing the "poison" that runs through the heart. However, the youngsters are more sensitive in that age, and "one poison could destroy their hearts" (I'm sure Gojo was thinking of Geto as he said this). That's why he wants to leave Yuji in the care of Nanami, "an adult who understands other people pain." Not that Gojo is unable to understand pain, but in the earlier events of the Light Novel as context, Gojo is faced with a mother who is mourning the loss of her child. While Nanami tries to gently comfort her and secretly find information on the cursed spirit at the same time using vague words, Gojo's words are straight forward and to the point, which startles the mother. It's not necessarily a bad things, however- Gojo's words had ended up allowing the mother to see her situation as it was without delusions, a tough love situation, so to speak, and the two were able to confirm their intel to be correct. It was Gojo who helped her to heal quicker by allowing her to realize her problem through his cutting words, but I'm sure Gojo realizes his "bad personality,"- which isn't really so bad in some cases- isn't for everyone. Gojo is very aware that people react negatively to his behavior, even if he is unable to understand just how deeply they despise him (*cough* Utahime) In that way, Gojo shows he cares very much for Yuji's mental growth, even in that short period of time, by entrusting his care to Nanami, who he comments would do a much better job than be could.

Therefore, I think Gojo might actually get attached to people more quickly than it might seem like. He also thinks very deeply and no matter how he acts, he's able to recognize others' strengths and acknowledge his own flaws- this is a key part of his character because he doesn't delude himself in his position as the Strongest. To those who think Gojo sees himself as a God, he is far from that behavior, and he is self aware enough to know that people need more to grow than just power and strength. Unfortunately, it seems most people either despise Gojo or are too enamoured by his looks to see past the surface of the more boisterous and childish part of his personality. That's likely the main reason he finds it hard to commit, too.

(More ranting 😭. There was this reddit post saying Gojo's narcissistic enough to be a more evil villain than Sukuna, that he would actually end up becoming the villain- like really??? And so many people really agreed that he's incapable of feeling true emotions that it's absurd. I really can't believe they even think Gojo has a God complex. Someone with a God complex, like most of the other disorders, wouldn't be able to admit their own flaws, let alone ask for help! The fact that Gojo even admits to having a "bad personality" is another tell against that. Sometimes I wonder if people are just projecting, but I also realize it's hard to differentiate between being an ENTP and being a sociopath because of how- on the surface- they seem so similar! But if you just dig a little deeper to look at their roots, they are so completely different it's a wonder how you'd get confused in the first place)

- 🤔

OH I COULDN'T AGREE MORE 🤔 anon here spitting FACTS. Yeah alot of people think gojo's a narcissist with huge ego but that ain't the case at all as explained above. I mean he was put on a pedestal since birth he gotta have some ego in that but that fact doesnt blind him. yeah sure he's the strongest but just one line "I'm the strongest" doesn't mean he's bragging it may sound like it but he's just stating facts he is indeed in fact the strongest in the jujutsu society. He knows he can't do everything on his own I mean why did he even become a teacher in the first place? Becuz he wants to make the next generation of jujutsu sorcerers stronger! No one asked him to do it he himself wanted to be a teacher even though at time he sucks at it.

He genuinely wants to do good not just for himself but for others as well. As interesting as the concept of Gojo becoming a villain it will never happen. Don't judge a damn book by it's cover even if it's a very attractive one hes just such an interesting character its shame most people don't see that.

[realllllfangirllllll]

Beyond Lovers || Chp. 31

{More Than Friends Sequel}

Chairman!Jaehyun AU x CEO!Reader AU

Summary: You find yourself falling deeper and deeper in love with the former CEO after overcoming your fear of love. Although there were rough patches, both of you are now stronger than ever. However, you realize that maintaining a relationship and a company at the same time can be very difficult, especially if someone is out to destroy the both of you.

(Context: This scene takes place in the time frame of the last three chapters of MTF)

Masterlist

{Previous / Next }

4 months ago...

“Come meet me in Paris. I’ll send you the address.”

Jaehyun’s mind spun like lab rats on a hamster wheel as he contemplated the idea of meeting face to face with Xiaojun. He had set his mind on getting y/n back and he couldn’t act scared now. He needed her in his life and this was his only chance.

~~~

The bright sun was hanging low in the clear sky as Jaehyun let out a yawn. Although jet-lagged and stressed, the thought of being on the same grounds as y/n made him feel a bit better. After all, it seemed like he hasn’t seen her for years. He chuckled to himself upon the realization of how much y/n’s presence affected him.

He stepped into the luxurious hotel lobby and made his way to the glass elevators before he quickly pressed the button to floor six. When the room door opened, he found himself sitting on the lonely chair placed across from the lush couch with his heart beating nervously. Never had he been more nervous for a meeting, in fact, he usually wasn’t the type of person to get nervous at all. He guessed that y/n and Xiaojun were definitely of blood relation as they were the only two people to ever make him feel even slightly nervous.

His hands were clasped politely in front of his lap as he tried his best to sit as straight as possible. On the other hand, Xiaojun sat comfortably yet arrogantly on the couch with his legs crossed. His stern, sharp gaze examined Jaehyun from his neatly gelled hair, his casual yet sleek navy dress shirt, to his expensive leather shoes. Jaehyun didn’t move an inch and allowed Xiaojun to take in whatever he wanted to see. He dressed casually but neat with the intent of giving off a good, first in-person impression. He didn’t want Xiaojun to think of him as an egotistic rich boy but a hardworking and polite man that is sincere to y/n.

Xiaojun suddenly let out a chilling laugh that did nothing to clear the tension in the room. “You don’t have to act so stiff, treat me comfortably.” 

Jaehyun nervously chuckled as Xiaojun broke out an eerie smile and offered, “You must be exhausted from that flight. Want something to drink?”

Jaehyun looked at him and saw that his eyes held a stonecold stare that shouted ‘refuse if you dare.’ He quickly responded with a yes and Xiaojun’s eerie smile returned. As if he prepared for this scenario, his hands grabbed the bottle of liquor on the marble coffee table and filled the two empty glasses by its side. He set the bottle aside and asked as he quirked his eyebrow, “You do drink whiskey, do you?”

Jaehyun responded with a quick, “yes sir,” and Xiaojun chuckled, “No need to be so formal with me. You are about the same age as me after all.”

Jaehyun almost choked on his drink at his words and stuttered, ���Y-yes if that’s what you want.” Hesitantly, he continued, “By the way...How do you know my age?”

Xiaojun chugged his drink and rather loudly before he bluntly told him that he had searched him up online, read articles about him, and even had some intel from someone on the inside. Jaehyun’s eyes widened at his last statement. He wasn’t new to this sort of investigation as he had done so himself around people he found suspicious, especially with Jaemin. But he was surprised, yet amused, that Xiaojun was that kind of person as well. 

He cleared his glass of whiskey and set it down on the table. “You seem to be a very reliable person.”

Xiaojun gave him a questioning stare as he waited for him to elaborate on his words. Jaehyun chuckled, suddenly feeling more comfortable around the man in front of him and slightly loosened his stiff body. “It’s only right to keep an eye out on suspicious people. I would.”

At his elaboration, Xiaojun’s expression seemed to change into one with slightly more approval. His cold stare shifted to a warmer gaze as he uncrossed his legs and leaned forward with his elbows on his knees. His eyes first looked down at his interlocked fingers and then seriously up at Jaehyun. “What is your endgame with my baby sister?”

Jaehyun sat up straighter again and responded with slight confusion in his tone, “Endgame? I don’t have one. My love for your sister isn’t a game.”

Xiaojun smirked and asked, “Then what is it?”

Jaehyun never broke eye contact with the man in front of him and said sincerely, “To me, loving y/n is like living in a warm home. I only want to make her feel happy and comfortable like how she makes me feel. I want her to feel what being loved means.”

He hoped that wasn’t too blunt and stopped himself before he could say anything more, but Xiaojun chuckled. This time, he didn’t have an eerie smile but a genuine one. He poured the both of them more whiskey and said in a gentler yet firm tone, “You’re the first, you know.”

“The first what?” Jaehyun said a little softer, scared that that statement might hold a negative connotation.

Xiaojun peered down at his glass of whiskey, slightly moving the cup in a circular motion before setting it down without taking a sip. “Guess I don’t need this whiskey anymore.”

He looked up and saw Jaehyun’s puzzled look. “You are much more innocent than I thought,” he laughed. He sat straighter, breaking from his previous position and told Jaehyun nonchalantly, “You are actually the first to tell me something worth my time. You see...most guys that previously held y/n’s interest will walk into my door and say some bullshit. I’ve heard countless fuckers say they date my sister because she will make a great couple with them, she will light up their day, or some equivalent shit.” His eyes hardened and stared straight into Jaehyun’s. “I don’t want to hear that. Ever.” Jaehyun unconsciously gulped and Xiaojun chuckled, “But you on the other hand. You are different. While others think about themselves, you think about y/n.”

Jaehyun felt relieved but not a second later, Xiaojun gave him the same cold stare again. “But y/n means the world to me. She’s my only family and the only person I will sell my soul to protect. You got that?” Jaehyun quickly nodded in response and Xiaojun’s tone softened again. “I don’t know how far you are in this relationship, but you must know that y/n didn’t have parents growing up as they abandoned us quite harshly.” He glanced at Jaehyun’s expression and figured he knew what he was referring to. “So you do know. Well then your relationship must have been going on for quite a while…”

“Not really,” Jaehyun replied a bit hesitant. 

Xiaojun quirked his eyebrow, “How long then?”

“Technically...only a few months,” Jaehyun rubbed the back of his neck, unsure of whether he should give him all the details of their complicated relationship, “But we’ve kind of been circling around the first month…”

“Circling around?” Jaehyun gulped, afraid this would give him some negative points on his approval but Xiaojun stared intently at him and suddenly burst out laughing. He knew that his younger sister was never the one to wait for initiation. She wasn’t careful with things she didn’t care for. All her previous relationships started fairly quickly. But when y/n really liked something, she would wait, go through a ton of inner debation, and finally come up with a decision. Xiaojun knew that because she does the same with photography. She never rushes the process and would take her time finding the right angle, the right natural lighting, and the right model. She would often tell Xiaojun, “Precious moments are to be dealt with carefully because they are especially fragile.” 

Now that Jaehyun confessed the upbringing of their relationship, albeit vague, he realized just how much y/n valued this man that sat nervously in front of him. He muttered to himself both out of amusement and astonishment, “Wow y/n...So he’s the one huh?”

He stopped laughing and stared seriously at Jaehyun again, “Listen up lover boy. The reason I told you to come here was to either show you that you are not worthy of my precious sister or to beat you to a pulp if you didn’t listen like some arrogant douches I’ve encountered in her past relationships.” Unknowingly, Jaehyun chuckled at his last statement and Xiaojun’s ears perked, “Did you just laugh?”

Jaehyun’s eyes widened upon the realization of what he just did and immediately corrected himself, “No no, I didn’t mean it in that way.” He scratched the back of his neck again and continued, “I actually just,” he paused and let out a light chuckle, “I just relate to that as well.”

Xiaojun was caught off guard as he blinked in disbelief at the man’s reaction, “You what?”

A sense of respect coated Jaehyun’s tone as he clarified, “Some people call it reckless, some people call it crazy. But in the line of business I work in, those hypocritical people only fear those with the power of the fist and intimidation.” He let out a bitter chuckle and told Xiaojun, “With y/n around, especially, I just feel the need to make sure she doesn’t get hurt by ignorant people.”

Xiaojun smirked, “You’re not half as bad as I thought Jaehyun.” He smiled and continued, “Anyways, y/n may be my baby sister but ever since we were little all she has done was make sure I was happy. She took care of me more than I did with her. She supported and helped me with my Youtube career and tagged along without any complaints. And because of that, she never really had a stable place to call her home. I’m glad she was able to open up to you. She usually never tells someone about her parents until at least a year into the relationship. It shows she really is comfortable around you. And judging from the way you react to my words and actions, it seems I don’t need to play the role of a protector for her anymore. You seem to suit the role.”

Before Jaehyun could respond Xiaojun immediately cut him off, “But one more thing. As a Youtuber, I know the public forum can be harsh and the spotlight will never be easy. For that, I know the situation at the Starship Charity Ball was not entirely your fault,” His cold stare came back as he stared seriously at Jaehyun, “But don’t you ever dare forget this. When you walk out this door and go to y/n, you will do everything in your power to help and protect her. It might not be entirely your fault, but it was because of you that y/n is now in the spotlight.”

Jaehyun replied in agreement almost immediately and Xiaojun continued, “Take the consequences and make the best of it.” He narrowed his eyes and made sure Jaehyun understood his commands. “But don’t you ever let y/n get hurt by it.” He continued and emphasized his last point in a much deeper and darker tone, “You hurt my only family and I will show you no mercy. However hurt y/n becomes, I will give that back to you threefold, understood?”

“Of course! I will always be by her to protect her. No matter who or what gets in the way,” Jaehyun replied quickly and genuinely. 

Xiaojun shut his eyes for a moment and nodded, content with his response and overall behavior. 

“Effiel Tower,” he opened his eyes again and looked at Jaehyun with a soft and somewhat hopeful gaze, “She should be somewhere around the Effiel Tower right now.”

Jaehyun immediately popped up from his seat, ready to meet his love again. Before he twisted the doorknob of the hotel room, he turned around and told Xiaojun with the utmost respect, “I will treat her like my own family, I promise.”

Xiaojun chuckled and leaned against the soft pillows on the couch, “You better lover boy, my fists are ready to fight any time of the day.”

———

• Dropping a post early since I’ll be off to celebrate my bday!! •

[nitewrighter]

Does Hanzo ever find out what Genji went through/what he was like during Blackwatch? If so, how does he react?

I think he does eventually, like... Genji lets him know that he was in a very difficult physical and emotional place with Blackwatch, and Hanzo’s able to pick up from Mercy that “Okay no, I don’t think you understand, it was really bad”--but she’s also fairly light on the details mostly for Genji’s sake like “Hey, I’m not going to tell you any more than Genji was comfortable with telling you.” And Zenyatta hangs back for the same reasons, and also he wasn’t there so he doesn’t want to distort the details from what Genji’s told him. So the one person Hanzo can actually get the full story from... is McCree.

Also this fic references the first meeting fic so yeah!

----

“Well?” Hanzo had one elbow resting on the bar. Music was faintly playing but it blended in with the humming murmur of the other patrons. Snowflakes were buffeting the glass of the windowpanes just outside and both of them had shrugged off their heavier coats. The bar itself had a homey, lived-in quality to it. Not dirty, but with a definite age to it that seemed to lend a further brightness to the bodies gliding through it and chatting. The icy Andean wind had heightened the redness of Hanzo’s nose and cheeks well before any alcohol had. It contrasted against the cold discernment of his dark brown eyes.

“I’m gonna answer your question with a question--” McCree started.

“Which isn’t an answer--”

McCree leaned back in his bar seat, folding his arms across himself. He almost looked sagely. “Are you asking this because you genuinely think it will help you get a gauge on your shit and move forward, or are you freaking out because things are going more okay than you think you deserve and feel a need to kick yourself square in the Rocky Mountain oysters?”

“Rocky Mountain--?”

“It’s this fried--I’m talking about--” McCree sighed and sipped his whiskey, “I’m saying you’re doing... you’re doing really well, Hanzo. You’re touching base with the team, reachin’ out, you seem to be sleeping and eating better, hell, you’re clutch on missions, but now you’re asking about this, and it worries me.”

“Why should it worry you?” Hanzo’s eyes narrowed.

“Because--y’know... I care about you. You’re a part of this team and I care about you... in a..” McCree cleared his throat, “Team-y way. And... you were stuck in a dark lonely place and I ain’t itchin’ to give you the means to go back there. ”

“But you can understand that the fact that I don’t have the full story distresses me more, can you not?” said Hanzo, “As well as the fact that knowing the more the truth of it is obscured with me, the worse I can assume the situation was.”

McCree scratched at his beard, frowning. “Yeah... yeah I can understand it--but I can also understand Mercy and Zen not spillin’ the beans on Genji’s account.”

“Mm...” Hanzo glanced off and sipped his own drink.

McCree twisted his glass slowly, “Then again, sometimes I think Reyes brought me on the team to begin with because I have a pretty high success rate with the whole, ‘Beg forgiveness before asking permission’ rate.”

Ana called you a charmer, the words almost slipped out of Hanzo but he wasn’t sure how they would land, so he held them in. Instead, Hanzo only mildly gestured at the bartender to refill McCree’s glass.

“Don’t think you’re getting it just because you’re gettin’ me drunk. It ain’t exactly a pretty story,” said McCree.

“I’m prepared,” said Hanzo.

McCree studied him a few moments longer, one hand still wrapped around his glass and one corner of his mouth pulled up with indecision before he closed his eyes and exhaled. “All right,” he said, “If only to keep you from kicking your own ass over what you don’t know.”

“I want you to start at the beginning,” said Hanzo, his stare steady.

“Well t’be fair, Blackwatch was casin’ Hanamura for months, even before your old man passed--er---my condolences--”

Hanzo snorted a little. “It’s... fine,” he said a bit awkwardly. He was more disarmed than really upset at the idea that McCree may have been far better versed in the activities of the Shimada Clan than he had really anticipated.

“Gérard, that is, our UN Attaché, had this whole thing about ‘pulling everything out to the light,’---And the fella was good at it. Could sniff out paper trails and track down dirty money like no other. The initial plan was to get Genji on possession charges and drag the whole clan out behind him. Your old man’s passin’--again, condolences--threw the whole schedule off though. And then we received additional intel that the Shimada dragons might be more.... uh... what’s the word for ‘unusual’ but it’s like... more business-y unusual?”

Hanzo shrugged.

“Un... Im... Uhhh.... Anomalous! That’s the word! Might be more anomalous than we thought and ‘warranting further investigation’ or whatever,” McCree seemed to be easing into the story now, plucking up details from debriefings, “SEP and all its affiliates had been more or less shut down post-Crisis, but there were still worries about human experimentation... strange abilities, and the like. And the dragon stories had been floating around your family for decades, but only when things got destabilized did we consider they might be more than stories. Then we got word that the wheels had been set in motion that the clan would kill Genji before we could get our hands on him--Arrest mission became extraction mission, and extraction mission became rescue mission. The time frame was so sudden we had to bring the Doc along because we thought she would be our best chance at saving him--She wasn’t in Blackwatch, you understand. Wasn’t too keen on undermining the Japanese government either. But... it turns out bringing her along was the right choice.”

Hanzo seemed to be maintaining a veneer of calm, but there was an unmistakeable new undercurrent of tension in his movements and expression as he sipped his own drink.

“You know what he looked like when you left him,” said McCree, “Do you really want me to go into the details there?”

“Yes,” said Hanzo.

McCree huffed and took another gulp of whiskey. The burn of alcohol rasped the first few words of his next sentence. “So it was me, Reyes, the Doc, and a handful of Blackwatch extraction medics touching down in Hanamura that night. Apparently the Shimada clan’s forces were decentralized from the castle. We infiltrated the castle grounds. Found a handful of your security already dead. Took out one more... left his body with the others. Didn’t have time to run a full investigation, or lock anything down. Finding Genji was the top priority. And we found him. Three limbs gone. Puddle of his own blood. Looked midway between... someone had dropped him in a garbage disposal but at the same time... not right--just... gone. The limbs were gone. The wounds were too clean but still bleedin’ out.”

Hanzo’s knuckles curled in, white and shaking as he took a steadying breath. “Consumed,” Hanzo said quietly, “The dragon consumed them.”

“I can stop--” McCree started.

“Finish what you start, Cowboy,” Hanzo’s voice was steady.

McCree swallowed. “I’d seen some fucked up shit under Reyes, but this... yeah, it was new. I kind of froze up, not quite scared, but just trying to make sense of it. But then I snapped out of it as the Doc rushed to him first. I had a vantage point in case other castle security showed up. Reyes was at the opening to that big-ass balcony so he could flag down our evac. So uh, what you need to understand here is that we uh... we actually had very little solid intel as to what the Shimada dragons were capable of.”

“...but I had left the scene well before this,” said Hanzo, trying to puzzle out the timeline of his own fleeing the castle grounds.

“Yeah it... wasn’t your dragon we saw,” said McCree, “See, the Doc, she had to do this... staff... defibrillation thing? I didn’t get a good look at it but Genji, he uh...started thrashin’ and this light sprang out of him. Bright green. Never seen anything like it. He was screaming. Next thing I know he’s grabbing Mercy’s neck.”

Hanzo flinched with some alertness. “What?”

“I mean--first instinct, I’m saying to Reyes, ‘Boss, I got a shot’--like, I know the mission was asset acquisition, but light show or not I wasn’t about to let him kill Angela, but then she hollers out ‘Don’t shoot him!’ And I’m stuck there looking to Reyes like, ‘You’re gonna override that, right?’ And... and Reyes was so calm... I--I could see him doing the math. Breaking people down to resources... breaking their deaths down to trade-offs...”

“You... thought you had to shoot Genji--” Hanzo’s brow was crinkling.

“If Reyes gave me the word,” McCree shrugged, then itched at the brim of his hat, “I never thought someone would hesitate on saving the doc like he was doing right there, though. But.... then she said something to Genji. Never asked what it was, but it seemed to calm him down before he passed out.”

“And you’re saying he grabbed her neck when they first met,” Hanzo’s eyes were narrowed, “But they’re...”

“Well, he was only half-conscious and in this full-on survival mode and she had just... jammed a huge amount of biotic-whatever into his chest. He didn’t know if she was helping or trying to... y’know it was like those times you nearly punched me in the face when I was trying to wake you up from those night terrors.”

“I’m sorry for that,” said Hanzo.

“Psh. If I had a nickel for every time someone took a swing at me out of some kind of traumatic reflex...” he smiled to try and make this seem more lighthearted than it actually was, but Hanzo seemed to still be processing everything, so McCree cleared his throat. “Word of advice, though, don’t make any ‘I guess you’re into that’ jokes with the doc,” he said with a nervous laugh, “No it uh... it took them both a while. I mean, there was this thing there, definitely, but yeah, they were both neck-deep in a whole bunch of shit for a while before they really acknowledged anything.”

“Did Genji take a swing at you?” asked Hanzo.

“Not outside of a Blackwatch sparring ring,” said McCree, “But Jesus, he was scary on the training floor. Still is, sometimes.” McCree paused for a few seconds. “He was obsessed with killing you, y’know. Taking down the whole clan and killing you. Every mission where he got a sniff of you, every mission he thought you might be there and you weren’t, he’d come back snarling.” 

Hanzo blinked a few times and glanced down. He knew it made sense, given the idea of justice their family had ingrained in them, but there was still an odd sting to the idea. But I’m his brother, he thought, but then he thought, But that didn’t stop me. 

McCree seemed to take Hanzo’s silence as permission to go on. “ I’d try to distract him... try to get his head out of his ass sometimes, but a lot of the time... you see any living thing in a state like that, all you can do is give it space. Genji did give us a decent amount of intel on the Shimada clan’s bigger operations... but when it came to actually getting in there... he was always the first one on the ground. As you can imagine, it was personal for him. There were a handful of bullshit ‘stakeouts’ in Japan where Genji would ditch me... I knew Reyes wasn’t telling me the whole story, then again, it wasn’t my job to know the whole story.” McCree sipped his drink. “Doesn’t mean I didn’t know what he was doing, though.”

“...killing heads of the clan,” Hanzo said quietly.

“Can’t exactly confirm or deny that but... yeah,” said McCree. A prickle of alarm seemed to go through him. “Look, I don’t want to kick off any more brother-killing fuckery--”

“You’re not, Jesse,” Hanzo’s voice was subdued, “I was the right hand of the clan... and the destruction wrought by Genji was, if anything, a product of my own actions.”

“Also his actions--He was fucking nightmare--I mean I liked him, but he was a fucking nightmare, sometimes. Lashed out--like... you didn’t really think of him as giving a shit about you with all that seething over the Shimada clan--- but then he’d know how to say something that hurts, and he knows exactly how it hurts, and you wouldn’t know if he learned how to hurt that bad from your family or just because he was hurtin’ that bad and---” McCree seemed to catch the alarmed look in Hanzo’s eyes, then took a steadying breath before sipping his drink again, “Look... this stuff... it’s all in the past. And he is a lot better now. And he is one of my best friends. Kind of wild how someone who hurt you that deeply can be a best friend like that, but... that’s kind of how life works. Kind of how this shit works when you don’t know if you’re coming back from that next mission. We’re all fucked up here. It’s about learning to take the fucked up parts of yourself and trying to make it into something that helps the people that mean something to you. ”

“The people that mean something to me...” Hanzo repeated quietly.  He remembered McCree’s words from his second night on the watchpoint. ‘We’re all just background noise to you. You’re just here so you can stop kicking your own ass after Genji.’ Then he remembered Genji’s words. ‘Well... you’ve been traveling the world for a decade... has there... been anyone? Anyone special? Anyone you loved?’

“...I feel like I’ve let that part of me atrophy,” Hanzo said quietly. Answering Genji’s question, not McCree’s words.

“Atrophy?” McCree repeated.

“When you don’t use a muscle for a long time and... it ceases to be able to functi--”

“I know what ‘Atrophy’ means--” McCree wasn’t making eye contact, “You let... caring about other people... atrophy,” he parsed, trying to trace out Hanzo’s thought process.

“Mm,” Hanzo took a sip of his own drink, “So while I was wandering in grief, Genji was consumed by pain and rage.”

“Which... he’s told you,” said McCree. 

“Well, yes, but he didn’t go into details,” said Hanzo, “I know, this might be difficult or painful to talk about, but I really do appreciate getting a more complete picture of what happened to him after my actions.” 

McCree tilted his own glass back and forth on the bar counter, letting the whiskey rock around the interior.“I know, but...don’t heap all this on yourself. Reyes always said he wanted the cockroach motherfuckers, and he was more than happy to let Genji snap and swear and lash out and burn the house down because that suited Blackwatch’s agenda better than, I dunno, therapy? Only when we got benched after the Venice incident did he yank in Genji’s leash, because hey, it turned out having a PTSD cyborg tearin’ around the base cussin’ people out wasn’t a good look for Blackwatch.” 

Hanzo huffed a little. There was an odd comfort in that. But then he paused, running over the course of McCree’s words in his mind. “...you keep bringing up Reyes,” Hanzo said, fixing his eyes on McCree.

“Sorry--I--I know this should be about Genji,” said McCree.

“No it... it gives some perspective,” said Hanzo, “You trusted Reyes, didn’t you?”

McCree’s mouth tightened for a few seconds before he drew in a short breath through his nostrils. “Yeah... yeah, I did. He just... I mean I’d keep telling myself I was my own person, that I did things with my own style, but so did he. So like... whether it’s ‘your own style’ from fuckin’ Santa Fe or Los Angeles... is there really that much of a difference? If you still picture yourself in their boots, give or take a decade or so?”

“Hm,” Hanzo was thoughtful at this, “I imagined myself in my father’s position so long that when everything came apart and I found myself wandering the world, dodging the clan’s assassins I felt... like a stranger.” 

“Kind of liked being a stranger,” said McCree with slight shrug, “Stranger’s from nowhere. Got nothing to prove.... guess it probably hits different if you got a whole... magical crime lord prince destiny thing, huh?”

“The dragon is not magical,” said Hanzo flatly, but a smile was tugging at his lips. 

“Debatable,” said McCree, “First of all: It’s a dragon.”

Hanzo snorted and a quiet pause passed between them. Not uncomfortable, but definitely tired, letting McCree’s words and all the pain and memory that came with them drift and dissipate into the warm air of the bar.

“...I could tell you more if you want,” said McCree, after a few beats. “I do have funnier stories... wasn’t all... ‘he was fucked up.’ And--Genji did seem to be getting better-ish towards the end there, once they put him on Tracer’s strike team... but by then Overwatch itself was coming apart.” He snorted. “I guess that’s kind of a running theme with this stuff.”

“I appreciate the offer,” said Hanzo with a slight chuckle. He paused. “Tracer’s strike team?”

“Well, she and Winston probably got more stories there than I do,” said McCree, “And maybe the doc, if it’s in good faith.” He sipped his drink. “You’re welcome to run off to try and ask them about it.”

“I think... this is enough for now,” said Hanzo. After a few beats he said, “You’re not... all background noise to me.”

“What?” said McCree.

“That... you said that on the second night,” said Hanzo, “It’s... it’s not that I don’t value life, or other people--I’m just... it’s been a very long time since I’ve worked with other people, since I’ve talked to other people on a regular basis like this, since I’ve stayed in one place this long, and...”  he trailed off, then took a sip of his own drink with some resolve, “I’m afraid,” he said, letting those words sit in the air for a few seconds, “I’m afraid of lending my abilities to another organization that’s used people to hurt other people and then tossed them aside. When your only connection to other people for most of your life was this twisted blood loyalty...” Hanzo trailed off.

“I’m scared of makin’ the same mistakes too, for what it’s worth,” said McCree, “I don’t think fear like that ever goes away.”

“Redemption’s a bitch?” said Hanzo with a slight smile.

McCree broke into chuckles. “You should swear more often. I feel like that’ll help.”

“You’ve sworn plenty for the both of us, tonight,” said Hanzo crisply, sipping his own drink.

“Still, I’m gonna make it a mission to get a ‘fuck’ out of you,” said McCree and Hanzo choked and sputtered. “I didn’t mean it like that! You know what I mean!” McCree was laughing as Hanzo’s attention was split between choking and laughing and desperately looking around for a napkin after spitting his drink. The bartender swooped by with a napkin and the laughs boiled down into chuckles as Hanzo cleaned up a bit. There was another pause then, that same settling of understanding.

“Thank you,” Hanzo said after a few beats.

“You already thanked me--don’t know what’s worth thanking about saying ‘hey your brother was fucked up and so were we.’”

“Honesty. I appreciate honesty.”

McCree smiled and then shrugged.“Hey--y’know, for all the shit I give you,” McCree started and trailed off, “What I said that night about... all of us being background noise... I know that.. that wasn’t really fair. You really didn’t know any of us and, y’know, as far as the general public is concerned, we’re a whole bunch of mercenary weirdoes doing vigilante shit.” 

“And Genji was the only person here I knew, and was really...” Hanzo sighed, “I suppose, I fixed him in my mind to be my last chance at humanity--and made myself out to be a monster to all of you in pursuing that.”

“Well... you’re doing better, I can tell you that much. And... y’know folks are warming up to you.”

“Except Angela,” said Hanzo, with a weary smile. 

“She needs time on that... I wouldn’t try to force it,” said McCree, “Baby steps and all that.” 

Hanzo huffed a little.

“Hey,” McCree lifted his glass, “To baby steps and runnin’ the hell away from all our old role models.”

“Indeed,” Hanzo clinked his glass against Genji’s. Both sipped their drinks and another pause passed over them. Hanzo felt McCree’s eyes on him and looked over at him.l

“Hey just so we’re clear,” McCree’s chin was in his hand, “I didn’t accidentally kick off some huge new bloody vengeance thing by telling you all this, right?”

“You did not,” said Hanzo with a wry smile.

“Oh thank god.” 

[op-sheepy]

6. dark law, 19. Davy Back, 36. the whimsical captain trafalgar law, 55. marine pet AU!

 Oh, good eye. Those are some of my favorites.. Here is another long one under the cut. Also sorry for the late response. :D

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6. Dark Law

Essentially my take (one of them at least) on what would have happened had Corazon not taken Law from the Donquixote pirates but left anyway when he thought Law had ratted him out.

Some details regarding this:

Rocinante returns to the marines and was able to submit the intelligence he'd gathered. This doesn't do much except inconvenience Doflamingo, as already acknowledged during Law and Doffy's fight.

Vergo gets discovered so he just goes back to the family.

Law does not eat the Ope Ope no mi since Doflamingo never intended for him to. At least, initially.

Because, I'm assuming, not everyone can perform the "Perennial Youth Operation," as it was stated they needed to be 'wise' or 'knowledgeable' and being a doctor does not really automatically equal that, Doflamingo had to kill the users he had chosen when none of them could do it so the fruit could go back to the circulation and he could feed it to the next potentially qualified person he could find.

Law's Amber Lead Syndrome got healed by one of these users though it was only because Law, himself, taught them how to (being familiar with the disease through his father's research as well being a good doctor)

Eventually, everyone realizes that Law is actually the most suited to wield the fruit (all the other smart doctors either having a fruit already or are simply inaccessible), certain that Law would be able to figure out how to do the ultimate technique. So, reluctantly, because he does care in his twisted conditional way, Doflamingo gives the Ope Ope no Mi to Law.

Law at this point had been raised as Doffy's right hand, all according to his plan. While he truly considers Law family and might genuinely regret making him give up his life, Doffy would still ask it from him because there is nothing more important than Doflamingo and his goals. A sentiment that almost everyone in his family considers true.

And Law... well...

Doflamingo rested both hands on Law's shoulders. His tinted glasses peering down, voice heavy with regret, "I wish there was another way."

Law's face remained impassive only broken by a small wistful twitch of his lips. It almost looked like a smile. He grasped Doflamingo's arm and directed him towards the operating table.

"You have taught me many lessons one of which was the futility of wishing for better circumstances." Law seated him and prepared his equipment.

"You taught me to take advantage of any situation by using whatever it is at my disposal." Carefully, he opened a package of sterile gloves. It wasn't really needed but the ritual of opening the pack and putting the gloves on one hand at a time always helped settle his nerves.

"I had expected you to do the same so I'd been prepared for this even before you gave me the fruit." Law lifted his eyes as he slid the first glove in place. "Don't feel too bad. I really am grateful for everything you've done for me. This is just me returning the favor."

He slid the other glove and stretched it over his hand. Softly, almost a whisper, without taking his eyes off his would-be patient, "I wish there was another way too." The snap that followed the release of the glove was too loud in the small operating room.

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19. Davy Back

Early Heart Pirates stuff. And another workaround for writing with at least one of the nameless Heart Pirates.

A Davy Back Fight is initiated for an abused crew member of the opposing crew because Penguin couldn't help himself. The rules are a work in progress, hence this fic's state in limbo.

I really like writing about how these guys were when starting out. They probably looked too adorable, to be honest, so in the harsh North Blue they must have had a hard time getting treated seriously. Not that that would have bothered them (I honestly think they exploited it a lot.)

The enemy captain stared intently at each Heart Pirate then at the list of members given to him. The man didn't bother controlling the upward curl of his mouth.

"No powers. No weapons. Sumo wrestling with your navigator and hand-to-hand combat with your doctor."

Shachi choked and struggled a little bit to get his breathing back to normal. He waved away Penguin's hands patting his back. The pats were a little too harsh, clearly an admonishment if the accompanying glare was anything to go by.

Penguin almost felt sorry for whoever it was being matched against Law. Bepo, while just as incensed by the other crew, was way too conscious of controlling his strength to ever really hurt anyone too badly. The captain, on the other hand, could turn someone into a useless writhing lump of agony by systematically dislocating joints Penguin hadn't even known could be dislocated. Gruesome as severed body parts looked, the powers could at least make it painless.

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36. The Whimsical Captain Trafalgar Law

More Heart Pirates stuff though would feature some of the allied crews as well. This is actually a series/multi-chaptered (or would be).

A Heart Pirates adventure fic where they all go along with their captain's whims all while trying to figure him out. His crew is so used to it they barely even flinch anymore.

Not to say they understand him because who knows what goes inside their captain's head. In fact, they debate that sometimes (a lot of times) the crew being divided among those who think Law has got a plan and those who think he's winging it (often switching really).

"You can't possibly tell me there's some sort of plan behind this."

More than half of the crew looked a bit skeptical, the rest looked defensive.

Clione held up his hands. "Hey, I'm not complaining. I'll follow the captain wherever same as you. But you gotta admit that there isn't always a method to his madness. He really does do things on a whim."

"I disagree. The captain's just saying that but he knows what he's doing. Pretty sure there's a reason behind all his actions..." Protests started, so Penguin amended, "...that isn't just him being a bastard on purpose because he hates someone. Which is a pretty valid reason since we are pirates."

"How about that time we raided the flour factory?" Ikkaku asked.

Penguin's reply came immediately. "Discreet incendiary." A beat. "...also he hates bread."

Before they could celebrate, Shachi interrupted, "His dislike of bread counts as a reason and since it's incidental it doesn't count as a whim."

With narrowed eyes, Clione tried again. "The monastery? Dressing up as monks."

"Medicinal plant in the courtyard bred by this one priest."

"Marineford?"

"Allowed us to get intel and allies."

"And the emergency operations without anesthesia?"

"Possible drug interaction. Emporio Ivankov and their hormone powers."

So continued their back and forth. By the end of it, Penguin and Shachi looked way too smug. Truthfully, they both agreed Law was more impulsive than he let on, often unaware of it himself. But they knew the man they chose to follow always had a plan and purpose (though not necessarily present at the start, but semantics)

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55. Marine Pet AU

Haha... Another one of those difficult to explain ones. Starring the Marines (particularly the original three admirals and Sengoku), and the Shichibukai.

Uhm... So everything's the same except the Shichibukai aren't pirates. They're animals. That's it.

It starts with a wayward flamingo wearing eyewear harassing officers near one of their HQs. Also the Marines need to improve their public image. For some reason, the best they came up with is to get a mascot. Hitting two birds with one stone. (Except they can't really hit the bird. They tried)

So the Marines build a zoo or a habitat. Here are the only types of pirates the World Government can tolerate. Aren't they cute and fluffy?

The public eat it all up. It's popular so now they have to commit. And really, these animals become so important their safety and wellbeing become the higher-ups' problem.

Kizaru is having fun. Aokiji is resigned. Akainu tries (he doesn't quite know what but he'll do what's best for the Marines even if that's getting that damn flamingo away from the reptile enclosure for the tenth time that week on a Tuesday.)

Will feature other marines as well as all of the Shichibukai. All of them.

He checked the schedule and sighed deeply.

Boa, Doflamingo, Mihawk.

He had the most troublesome ones. Briefly, he contemplated just letting his subordinates handle them but quickly scrapped the idea.

He wouldn't say these animals were attached to him and the other admirals but they got more difficult to handle the lower the rank as though these creatures' egos get ruffled. It wasn't a matter of ability. It was perhaps more accurate to say that they had respect. A modicum of it.

It should be Boa's feeding time. Another sigh escaped him as he headed towards the grooming room, a room specifically made to groom Boa's food.

It took them a while to figure out the snake's preferred diet but they found it out when a stray kitten had snuck in and Boa swooped in to swallow it whole. From there they determined that she would only eat cute animals--any less adorable and she doesn't even look at it. So puppies and kittens. And maybe bunny rabbits. Which was bad from a PR perspective so they've taken to grooming rats. Put a nice lovely ribbon and brushed them so they're all fluffy.

He entered the grooming room and one of the officers assigned there took a quick look at him, glanced down the rat they were grooming, then burst to tears (they tended to get attached.) He pressed his hand to his head letting the ice cool down his budding headache. Why couldn't he have gotten Jinbe?

Thank you for playing. :)

[brandyspringsluxury]

The Staff of Brandy Springs Suites

Welcome to Brandy Springs Suites- a luxury apartment complex filled with clean, cared for facilities and on location gym, spa, emergency laundromat, and even a recreation room. It was once a hotel, but bought and modified by the current owner it is now peak luxury living. It’s a place that values consistency, kindness, and loyalty. The owner, a very mysterious man known only by Mr. Carter, was already very wealthy, so money is not something he prioritizes solely. In fact, he values loyalty more than income and if you prove to be a loyal and kind person, you may find certain perks and advantages. So, I hope you enjoy your stay and remain here for a long, long time. Nevermind all the tenants who seem to always have ulterior, hidden motives or the ever revolving spa and cleaning staff. Oh, and if you’re looking over things, please do try to ignore the first floor after midnight- and if you go down it’s in your best interest to feign ignorance to whatever noises you hear or things you see. And if you ever- EVER- manage to meet Mr. Carter make sure you are on your best behavior and prove your worth, or you may not leave the complex alive. 

TW: mentions of sex trafficking, kidnapping, murder, drugging, torture 

The Owner - Mr. Carter

55 - 6’1” - 188 lbs || Caucasian || he/him || lives separate || Weinstein Wannabe

Evil, awful man. Sells victims in the basement of the apartment complex, sex trafficker and if a tenant can’t pay and their intensive “background check” indicates the tenant is not someone that may be missed that tenant will be sold. That being said, if a tenant shows worthwhile attributes that could bring the Owner more money (ie bringing victims, more tenants, or generally having skills the Owner can exploit, etc) then the Ownery may be able to help the tenants with their own, perhaps nefarious, deeds (ie kidnapping/killing someone for them, bribing the police, etc). That being said, only the staff know what he looks like and have a direct line of communication with him. All tenants speak to staff, unless they are unlucky enough to have bumped into him or to have been a direction for his ire. He has no empathy and doesn’t attempt to pretend he does. He’s a cold, cruel man and he makes it known to everyone he interacts with. 

Emergency room in complex is Room 002

The  Front Desk -  Ronaldo Cortez

28 - 5’9” - 196 lbs || Latinx || they/them || lives separate || Golden Retriever Friend

Raised hyper christian american; couldn’t speak at the table or if they weren’t spoken to, couldn’t make or visit friends outside of the church, etc. Because of that they are fantastic at masking or playing characters and very much embodies the charisma of the golden retriever friend, but has an aggressive and vicious side hidden. Doesn’t let the tenants know much about them, but does blind side them with occasional double-sided comments. Great at picking up information on the tenants or on potential tenants from the position of Front Desk. Very beneficial for the Owner. The Owner places a lot of trust in them and how they vet tenants and workers-- essentially the Owner’s right hand person and second in command. Much smarter than they seem and is quite intuitive. Struggles to back their intuition so they get along very well with Lily-- the very person who can dig up the evidence to back their intuition. The pair are largely unstoppable. Their intuition is never wrong and Lily can find literally anything if they motivated her enough. Has never personally done anything illegal (hands on) but has facilitated and encouraged it enough. Essentially, the plan B of the operation should it fail. Cannot legally be prosecuted for any crimes and thus can help anyone who falls  into legal trouble get the best help to get away with whatever crimes committed. 

In case of emergency has access to Room 003.

The Head of Security - Lily-Anne 

23 - 5’4” - 180 lbs || Russian American | she/her || Room 005 || Greasy, Lazy Genius 

  Doesn’t look it but can pick anyone up and throw them like they’re nothing. Learned to deadlift and hack to prove the boys in her high school classes wrong. Mastered biology freshman year and went on to throw herself into the STEM programs. Won lots of scholarships but never went to secondary school. Can find anything about anyone. Normally quite apathetic but you don’t want to trigger stronger emotions- obsessive to either degree. She’ll either kidnap you as hers (and literally love you to death) or she’ll just kill you in her anger and hatred of you. Wants to push those around her to the brink, control them to the point that they’d do anything- kill or die for her. Heavily sapphic but not exclusionary and likes who she likes. Has few friends, most online, but Ronaldo is one she begrudgingly admits to befriending. The Owner knows a lot of Lily-Anne, but she knows little of him. She mostly digs up the dirt for Ronaldo, in return for a toy to play with and some cash, but she also largely protects the complex more heavily than traditional security including cyber security and bribing/hacking the police. This makes her a very valuable asset and the Owner has a soft spot for her, throwing her a toy to play with out of the blue occasionally if one fits her preferences that the Owner can tell. 

The Gym Trainer - Rocky

25 - 6’1” - 265 lbs || Dominican-German || he/him || Room 217 || Aggro-gym bro

Got hired after being a tenant due to his actual degree but also because Marissa had stumbled across his strength and ruthlessness and mentioned it to Ronaldo. The perfect backup and, well, Rocky killed his darlings often enough that the disposal of their bodies was payment for the heavy lifting he did for the Owner. Doesn’t know much, just knows he sees some bitches being taken and he beats some douchebags up. He doesn’t care what happens to the victims, doesn’t know, doesn’t want to know or care. Rent is significantly cheaper and after being the backup for a few years, his rent was waived. He showed loyalty and that is rewarded. Always on the prowl for tenants to trick into the complex and then trap them in the gym so he can bully them. Its a win-win for the Owner and for him. He earns commission from both. Quite handy to have on staff despite his own (willing and willful) ignorance. The rooms on either side of him are often vacant due to the screams of his victims (both sexual and tortured) and the Owner buckled down and sound proofed his entire apartment. Saves them both some stress.

The Head of Maintenance - Marissa Thompson 

27 - 6’ - 178 lbs || Black American || she/her || Room 008 || Chaotic ADHD gremlin

Trans-woman and proud. Black and proud. Can do everything a straight white man can do but better. Always has 100+ projects on her plate but still takes on every project offered. Prioritizes well and always helps the tenants in a timely and kind manner. Has never gotten a complaint-- about her work. She, herself, now requests tenants be out of the apartment while work is being done because she’s so chaotic it stresses out the tenants. Loves and leans into the “plumber’s crack” trope when she does plumbing work. Makes straight white men super uncomfortable and she lives for it. Unlike most other tenants, she knows nothing about The Owner or his operations, she was vetted by Front Desk and okay’ed due to her oblivious nature and genuine skills. (Front Desk totally knows about how she’s obsessive and stalks her love interests, how she sneaks into their rooms and frots against their bed while she caresses their skin while they sleep, how she hooked cameras up in her apartment so she can watch them always, how she always helps them first-- drops everything to help them first; but it’s okay, Front Desk can use all that to their advantage and when it stops being an advantage, well, they have more proof against her than she could dream of having against them. This job pays too well to lose, anyway, right?)  

Lobby Cleaner - Amelia Moser

21 - 5’6” - 134 lbs || Caucasian || he/him & she/her || Room 004 || Discreet Wallflower 

Soft, sweet, and quiet. She often blends into the background unnoticed. Gathers  a lot of intel that way and is quite willing to play the bait or honey pot people for the Owner. She’s more dangerous and promiscuous than she looks, after all looks are deceiving. She’s always getting dirt on the tenants, too. Cleaning the lobby and gym bathrooms while people are in them, eavesdropping on conversations, and generally watching everyone with a very close eye. She, herself, has an entitlement to her if you can catch her in conversation, though just know if you are in a conversation with her she’s already got you hooked. She doesn’t talk to anyone unless she wants or needs something from them- though they’re largely the same. Whatever it is, she’s getting it. Loves sweet things that aren’t just pretending to be kind, if you treat her and everyone with kindness but also get shy and flustered or you’re a little bit of a crybaby then- well, you’re her’s now. She’s kidnapping you, locking you up in her nursery, and drugging you until you believe you’re the child she’s treating you as. And if you try to leave- well, she won’t be afraid to take drastic measures. She knows how to clean up the toughest of stains after all.

[spicysoftsweet]

Chapter 8

Masterlist

Baji Keisuke was the king of mixed signals, Kumi decided, the thought leaving a bitter taste in her mouth.

There was a part of her that wondered if that night had been a dream, if she had been so hurt she’d manage to dream up a situation where Baji’s feelings for her were crystal clear now that she wore her heart on her sleeve. There was another part of her that wondered if she’d conjured up every good thing about him in her head to ignore the type of person he actually was.

The type of person who would do this.

“I’m fine.”

Chifuyu pulled away from Kumi’s hands that slowly reached for the bandages surrounding half his face but not enough that she couldn’t gently touch the sides of his face with her shaking fingers, moving his head from side to side to get a closer look.

Kaksi fumed nearby and Takemichi paled, wondering if it was wrong to have gone to the two girls for intel as Kumi’s eyes ran over Chifuyu’s injuries. Kumi was gravely silent, her mind clearly racing a mile a minute despite the neutral expression she bore.

“Who the hell does he think he is?” Kaksi yelled, genuinely and righteously upset. She had been tolerating his odd behavior towards her, towards Kumi, towards everyone so far, but this - this was possibly the last straw for her.

If he could do this to his friend, then what was the point?

“He has a reason,” Chifuyu started, but Kaksi wouldn’t have it.

“Bullshit! You can barely see!”

Kumi let her hands drop to her side and nervously ran a hand through her hair as she took a couple steps. Chifuyu gave her a once-over, unclear of how to gauge her reaction and then turned back to Kaksi whose fists were clenched and positively vibrated with rage.

“It was a…,” Chifuyu paused, unsure if he really needed to explain all of this to these girls, then continued, “test of faith.”

Kumi let out a sudden nervous laugh, crossing her arms.  “So he goes to church now?”

She was somewhere between upset and irritated, then apologized for being curt.

Takemichi suddenly spoke up.

“Baji left Toman for another gang called Valhalla... Which was what I was going to talk to you about, but it seems like you didn’t know,” he said, a little bit of disappointment in his voice. "We were at their hideout and then this-"

Chifuyu shot him a glance that suggested he was talking too much and Takemichi paled before trailing off.

Kumi’s eyebrows furrowed. He had been wearing Toman’s garb when he came to see her just days ago… or had she just imagined it?

“Did something happen?” She asked. "Like a fight or something?" At least to her, Toman had always been Baji’s priority; she couldn’t imagine him suddenly changing his mind now, unless there had been an incident.

Plus he had talked to her like nothing happened, but then again, she had felt like something was strange about him for the past few weeks.

What else did she not know?

Takemichi shook his head, and Kaksi grew impatient, both with the fact that Takemichi had no useful information to offer and the simple fact that he knew things that she didn’t, that Kumi didn’t, and she still had no idea where this guy had come from.

It was suspicious - maybe she was even a little jealous - how quickly Takemichi had gotten Mikey to open up. Something she had wanted for so long-

She didn’t know why she was thinking this way, back to the matter at hand.

“Where’s Valhalla’s hideout? We’re going there right now,” Kaksi declared.

Chifuyu let out a small incredulous laugh before his eyes widened when he realized she was dead serious. He looked at Takemichi who looked genuinely horrified, then at Kumi whose eyes were lowered, now deciding that her fingers and thumbs were suddenly very interesting to her. He couldn’t sense the turmoil inside her, and Kaksi was too righteously upset to notice by now.

Maybe Kaksi needed an outlet. She’d spent enough time feeling sorry for herself and now was ready to raise hell.

“Where is it?” She repeated to Takemichi.

Takemichi startled and Chifuyu gave him a warning look.

“Don’t tell them, Takemitchy.”

Kaksi glared at Chifuyu.

“If you don’t tell us, we’ll go find it ourselves. It won’t take a lot of asking to find out if it was that easy for you guys to find, after all,” she threatened. “Let’s go, Kumi,” she said, now grabbing Kumi, who seemed lost in her own world, by the wrist.

Kumi resisted as Kaksi pulled, and this actually surprised her.

“I-I don’t want to see him,” she finally admitted in a small voice, not looking up. “Or Kazutora,” she murmured. “I think we should just stay out of it this time.”

Kaksi genuinely appeared to be in shock.

“What?”

Kaksi let go of her arm gently, her rage fading slightly.

“Kumi?”

Kumi looked up at her, tears welling up in her eyes.

“I don’t know what to think anymore,” she said, a tear finally breaking loose and rolling down her cheek.

Was he good? Bad? Kind then not? Did she even know him? Even if he supposedly liked her now, she couldn’t forget that he was once her bully in some capacity, especially looking at Chifuyu’s battered face now, she wondered if there was something she was missing, and if he’d snap at her too.

Don’t hate me if I mess up.

What did that even entail?

Kaksi walked over to her crying friend and put her arms around her. “You don’t have to come if you’re worried, I get it,” she reassured her.

Kumi nodded.

“But I’m going,” she continued, pulling back now. Kumi’s tears had the opposite effect, making Kaksi even more adamant that she give the two - at the very least, Baji - a piece of her mind. “Takemichi, you’re coming with me,” she insisted.

“What?!”

Kaksi was already off, somehow in the right direction, and Takemichi and Chifuyu found themselves following suit before they knew it.

---

The smoke that greeted the four of them - Kumi had decided she wasn’t going to let her friend go on her own after all - was suffocating, even though the doors to the abandoned arcade were still technically closed.

Kumi held onto the sleeve of Kaksi’s shirt reflexively, slightly behind her and with her other hand subconsciously raised before her. Yes, she’d been around delinquents for the past two years, but she’d never been in or even close to the fray, and without having even stepped foot to breach the hideout, she could already tell she and her best friend were in incredibly hostile territory. Just the simple act of stepping over a ‘no trespassing’ had set her on edge.

“Now that you see it, will you go home already?” Chifuyu finally said, exasperated. The four of them had stalled in their advancement, possibly because Kaksi had had a moment of clarity, and Chifuyu expected them to go back.

However, the glass doors suddenly slid open, revealing a couple of grunts that were clearly low on the hierarchy. The taller of the two unnecessarily mature-looking teenagers looked at the four of them, probably having kept watch from outside, and laughed once he saw Chifuyu.

“You’re here for another beating? Didn’t have enough?” He jeered.

“And that scared bitch from Toman is here again, and he brought extra bitches with him!” The other laughed, hands still shoved in the white Walhalla jacket uniform as he threw his head back. Before Kaksi could turn and start running, he’d already grabbed her by her hair and started to drag her inside despite kicking and screaming.

Kumi screamed after her and tried to pry his hands off her friend but immediately was scooped up from behind and restrained by the second watchman.

“Fuck!” Chifuyu hissed, running in after the two of them, cursing himself for having tried to call Kaksi’s bluff rather than firmly telling them to mind their own business. He hadn’t anticipated either of them actually being this stupid, and now...

He threw a punch that connected with Kaksi’s captor’s back, but wasn’t enough to get Kaksi free, narrowly dodging a heavy kick launched in his direction.

“Let go of me, you piece of shit!” Kaksi shrieked, thrashing as Kumi began to wail for help, muffled by the clasp of a dirty hand over her mouth.

The shuffling of hands and fists and kicks right outside the hideout was loud enough that the inside stirred with excitement. The two girls were dragged in along with Takemichi and Chifuyu closely behind, brought in by additional gang members.

Kumi, and even Kaksi, were afraid enough by now, being ogled by all these strange boys, more unfriendly and harsh-looking, jeering boys (and probably some adult men) than they’d ever been in their life.

This had been a terrible idea, Kaksi thought, as fire tore through her scalp from the hold on her hair.

“Hey, we got visitors!” The first boy, grip on Kaksi’s hair still unrelenting. The taunts and whoops and leers grew louder, as they were brought to the leaders of the crew. Kaksi considered for a minute that she was done for - she knew what some gangs could do to a girl like her.

But Kazutora would never be part of those gangs, right?

“You’ve got what?”

Kaksi gasped, recognizing the voice immediately.

“Visi-”

The harsh thwock of knuckles hitting flesh almost silenced the crowd, and Kaksi felt herself get yanked backwards as the man dragging her toppled backwards.

“I’ll fucking kill you, you piece of shit!” Kazutora was on top of the crumpled body in seconds, dealing additional punches on either side of the teen’s face, his teeth bared in a vicious expression.

Kumi gasped as she watched the growing crowd freeze as Kazutora laid into the young man’s face, and the one who had restrained her released her immediately and set her down on her feet, surprising her even. From just a few feet away, she noticed Baji, also in Valhalla garb, new and nothing like the Toman uniform, glaring past her, his fists clenched as though he were itching for a fight as well.

The guy who had let go of her bowed, begging Kazutora to stop on behalf of his partner, and the young man paid him absolutely no mind, until another young man laughed loudly.

“Kazutora, we get it, she’s off limits,” he chuckled, as he walked forward. Kazutora paused, expression still frozen, then turned to look at Kaksi and frowned before getting to his feet.

He opened his mouth as though he planned to say something, then changed his mind. To Kumi, he looked blankly, then asked flatly,

“Did these bastards tell you where this place was?”

Kazutora pointed directly at Chifuyu and Takemichi’s general direction, the two also frozen in place as they stared at the bloodied pulp on the ground.

Kumi froze, then nodded slowly then shook her head quickly.

“T-they didn’t want us to come… but Kaksi forced it so-”

Baji stepped forward at this time, giving her a harsh look, mean enough that she could feel her stomach turn, then walked towards Chifuyu. Chifuyu actually flinched, a microscopic action, but Kumi and Baji both noticed, and the latter might have even been angered by it.

“Did I hit you too hard the other day or not hard enough?” Baji spat. “Why the fuck would you bring her here?” His fists clenched tighter and he leaned forward and before Kumi knew it, she’d moved closer to him, pulling his arm gently.

“Please stop.”

He shrugged her off instantly, staring down Chifuyu. Kumi tried again, while Kaksi froze in place watching the two of them. She wasn’t sure she had ever seen Baji this upset.

“Kei-” Kumi murmured. Her hands reached for him again, hesitant just from the hostile energy that seemed to radiate for him, and before she could touch him, he whipped around and turned to her, eyes wild.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” He snapped.

There seemed to be a sudden stillness to the air, or maybe Kumi just imagined it, as she recoiled at the harshness of his voice. Before she could come up with something to say, he continued.

“Don’t you get the hint?” He continued. “Get lost. ”

Kumi’s heart skipped a beat, and for a moment she thought about the first time she’d met him, where instead of this twisted frown he sported right now, the face red with irritation and grit teeth, he’d sported an amused smile like he could swallow her up at any moment.

Get lost.

Had he ever liked her? He hadn’t, had he?

It had all been in her head, this idea that he was a good person with some bad qualities, and that she could look past them, that it could be different, because at least he liked her, right?

Before she could burst into tears, Kaksi seemed to move like lightning in between the two of them, and forgetting where she was, who she was, why she was there, her hand drew back to slap Baji across the face. He stopped her before her palm made contact, and Kaksi glared at him as he held on to her wrist.

“You fucking asshole,” she hissed.

He didn’t say anything, but let go of her arm. Kaksi let it drop to her side.

“You changed,” she told him. She laughed bitterly, glancing at Kazutora as though to imply that this applied to him too, as Kumi finally lost control over tears that were welling up in her eyes, letting them stream wordlessly down her cheeks.

The young man, tall and brown-haired with an almost perpetual leer to his face, who had mocked Kazutora’s sudden fury again laughed, louder this time.

“Are you bringing your relationship problems to the gang? Do we need a rule that says don’t mix business with pleasure?” He said, clapping, truly rioting as Kumi tried to manage the sensation of her heart shattering.

Baji’s eyes didn’t leave Kumi, still shaking with something between anger and confusion and maybe an instant bit of regret, he wasn’t sure, but she suddenly sniffled loudly, then looked him straight in the eyes, fiercer than she had for the past two years that they’d known each other.

“Fuck you.”

He may have been taken aback by the severity of her words, but he didn’t show it, stone-faced for a moment before looking away.

It was for her own good, right? Do what was necessary and apologize later.

Don’t hate me.

Valhalla was different from Toman. Someone like her, a deer in headlights, could genuinely get hurt.

Please don’t hate me.

He tried not to look back as Kumi hurried out of the glass doors alone. Part of him wondered if he should go after her, but instead he diverted his attention back to Kaksi who had dug in her heels.

Despite the uneasiness that took over Kaksi, standing there surrounded by so many dangerous and much stronger people than her, she decided that walking away from Kazutora now wasn’t an option. Takemichi and Chifuyu stood behind her, waiting for her to realize there was nothing she could do or say to reason with her ex-boyfriend or Baji.

She still had to try. Kaksi moved forward, walking past Baji and grabbing Kazutora by his arms, attempting to shake him, anger more than anything else taking over her now. Baji muttered in annoyance but knew better than to interfere. He wished she wasn’t so stubborn sometimes.

“What the fuck are you doing?” she asked, loud enough to express how she felt, but low enough that not everyone could hear.

Kazutora didn’t say anything, watching her with those eyes she didn’t recognize.

“Kazutora, please,” she begged. “This is not where you belong.”

Her ex-boyfriend chuckled, clearly not taking anything she could say seriously.

“And where do you think I belong?”

“With me!” she exclaimed as if the answer was evident. “With your friends! With Toman! With Mi-”

“Don’t fucking talk about him!” Kazutora yelled his turn to hold the girl, violently shaking her.

Baji watched the scene unfold, surprised by the harsh way his friend handled Kaksi, but not displaying any real emotion. The way he gripped her arms and pushed her back then pulled her in was very different from the way he would normally gently hold her hand and bring it to his lips. For a moment Takemichi and Chifuyu were afraid of what Kazutora would do to her, but it seemed that Kaksi was the most afraid as she burst into tears still firmly held by her ex-boyfriend.

Kazutora stopped moving, automatically releasing her as his eyes widened. He didn’t want to hurt her; Kaksi was the last person he wanted to see crying which was why he didn’t want her here. He wished that she could understand how he felt, the fury that Mikey brought each time Kazutora thought about him. But all there was and all she could see was madness in his eyes and in his actions.

Kaksi didn’t understand him anymore, she couldn’t understand him. For a moment she wondered if she ever did? Yes, of course. She used to know Kazutora like the back of her hand. But the young man standing in front of him wasn’t the boy she had fallen for years ago and she was afraid she would never have him back.

Tears kept rolling down her cheeks and she realized only confusion and sadness remained inside of her. She wanted to speak but she couldn't find any more words. Kazutora took a step back, looking at Takemichi and Chifuyu instead.

“I should fucking kill you for having brought her here,” he said. “Get the fuck out of my sight.”

Kazutora gave one last look to the girl and it was while wiping off her tears that she walked away. Takemichi and Chifuyu followed her closely. But she wished she could have left with Kazutora and Baji by her side too.

[nightingaletrash]

...I’m still gonna say that Orsinium has the best main story in ESO. I loved Markarth way more than I expected, but Orsinium was *chef’s kiss*

You have missions where alerting certain enemies will have consequences. If you are spotted by torch-bearers in the temple, they will kill the priests that the Vosh-Rahk have taken hostage. If you are spotted in Fahrun Stronghold, the prisoner who could have helped you will have been killed and you find his body at the bottom of the well.

The story presents multiple instances of giving the Vestige a choice in killing people:

Eveli claims two orcs are suspicious. She can be encouraged to go through with her plan to shoot one and follow his companion or be told she can’t kill people just because she thinks they might be evil.

In Paragon’s Remembrance, you can choose to take on all of the Vosh-Rahk in the meeting, or kill Talviah, your friend and companion in exchange for intel.

After Solgra’s assassination, you corner the assassin. You are given the choice to let her live or to kill her.

In Eveli’s case, she does turn out to be right and the orc she doesn’t kill does lead you to the Vosh-Rahk because, well, the story has to play out anyway, but it’s the Vestige’s response - you can’t kill people just because you think they might be evil! - that makes it. Killing people who are attacking you is one thing. Killing bystanders who may or may not be involved is another. Because you run the risk of being wrong and oops now you’ve murdered an innocent person.

This kind of gets revisited with Eveli later when she kills a guard in self-defence when they tried to arrest her and Bazrag. She’s distraught over having killed someone who hadn’t done anything wrong and was just doing their job. She’s distraught over the impact she’s had on the lives of their loved ones. Suddenly the world is less clear cut and death comes with a price.

Betraying Talviah... that was a damn ballsy move on the part of the writers. They put you in a room where you are vastly outnumbered and tell you that you can either fight the Vosh-Rahk, or fight just one person to get what you want... but that person is your ally. Someone who has confided in you his reason for coming to Orsinium, that he wants to be someone to be proud of. And you can kill him to avoid a hard fight. When asked about his fate, you can choose to tell the truth or lie and say he sacrificed himself. But even if you lie, Eveli accuses you of not protecting him and says that she looked up to you, but if being a hero means being like the player, then she doesn’t want it, and she no longer trusts you at all. She best sums it up as ‘that’s your answer? He died because we needed him to?’

Solgra’s death had a noticeable impact too. Eveli’s continued despair with the death surrounding her and the dark turn the adventure had taken, Bazrag saying words for her in Trinimac’s name as opposed to Malacath’s, and the tragedy in how Alga used and killed her to further Kurog’s agenda. She was invited, not to install Trinimac worship, but to be a pawn that would smear her name and see history remember her as an extremist. Together with Owain, Eveli’s chosen messenger, Solgra was an innocent death.

Even Kurog’s death has an edge of tragedy to it. Bazrag remembers him as a brother. Roxanne, the owner of the King’s Cornerclub, asks to be allowed to attend the funeral as she was truly heartbroken by Kurog’s death. Bumnog and Bizra, his friends from his mercenary days, mourn him too. In one of your earlier conversations with him, he talks about how the victor decides who is the hero and who is the villain, and in the end, Kurog is the villain of his tale. But the people who cared for him decided not to let that be all he was.

Death in Orsinium was treated with weight and respect. There was a real sense of maturity into how it was approached, and how characters handled it. You had Eveli who was more and more deeply affected by the deaths surrounding her - killing the obvious bad guys was easy, but as the lines blurred and the situation became less clear cut, the burden became nearly unbearable for her. If you killed enemies in certain missions, you would get innocent people killed. There were consequences. And the writing didn’t hesitate to remind you of that.

ESO has not achieved that kind of maturity since. Summerset is definitely the worst offender, offing three major characters in the space of five minutes and with no acknowledgement of those deaths outside of a single conversation because BICKERING POLITICIANS ARE MORE IMPORTANT THAN YOUR FEELINGS, IDIOT! For a DLC that gave us ‘the world ends all the time. I’m just used to that being a personal event rather than a shared experience’ it didn’t even try to address how you move on when your world has ended in a personal way.

Dragonhold tried to amend it with Tharn’s death, having alluded to it since Elsweyr and treating his death with dignity and respect.

Markarth took its own approach by bringing back characters it killed off, though not only Arana and Verandis, but every person who lost their lives to the Dark Heart. You return to find Markarth in celebration as they rejoice the return of their loved ones. It was a genuinely moving moment, hearing that cheering, knowing you’d reunited families and friends. But you know what would have made it even more moving... if we’d seen the city before those lives were restored. People mourning their losses, talking about how they lost a sibling, a parent, a child... Leaving a city in mourning and returning to celebration and seeing people reunited would have really made that moment hit even harder than it already had because then the consequences of the Grey Host’s plans would have felt more tangible.

No DLC has gone as hard as Orsinium when it comes to handling death in a mature, emotional way. Eveli’s character arc is defined by death. You can choose to sacrifice people, both a stranger and an ally, to advance in the story. The narrative went all in on telling you that death MATTERED. It changes people. That some people are simply not equipped for dealing with death. And that in the end, people’s stories are defined by the people who tell them once they’re gone.

I long for the day that another DLC goes all in like that.