#i got a code purely on right-place right-time circumstance.

[blackwaxidol]

just remembered i have a toyhouse account that is gathering dust under my nose despite toyhouse literally being right there in the fucking bookmark toolbar everytime i open firebox like it's right next to my other links it's RIGHT! FUCKING! THERE.....

[rileyslibrary]

Living With Ghosts: 6. Hurt

He seemed more accustomed to surviving than living—as if the military had adopted and raised him to be the man he is today.

Relationship: Simon “Ghost” Riley x F!Reader

Word Count: 1,155

Notes:

Warnings: Mentions of blood and physical injury (gunshot wound)

Pure angst

That’s a sable. :)

Entire work on AO3

Table of Contents

———————————————————————

“Mating season is upon us; do not feed the sable—I repeat: Do NOT feed the sable. Over.”

That was Laswell’s last message to all the safe houses across Italy a couple of weeks ago.

“Sable” was Makarov’s code name—an odd choice for a criminal of his calibre since sables are cute and furry. Although you were unaware of his manscaping habits to argue the “furry” aspect, you knew that Makarov was anything but “cute.”

Mating season is upon us. Makarov was on the loose and closer than ever. Operators were sleeping with one eye open if they ever got the chance to do so. The job should be over soon.

Do not feed the sable. That meant one thing: under no circumstances should you blow your cover. Instead, you must keep a low profile and follow a consistent routine until further notice.

That’s what you’ve been doing for the past two weeks. You kept imitating a farmer harvesting lemons while monitoring unusual traffic in secrecy. Meanwhile, Ghost was helping you in the morning and leaving at nightfall to “take care of things.”

Everything seems to be going well so far—A little too well, perhaps. 

Call it a “gut feeling,” an “intuition,” or a “sense of impending doom.” Whatever it was, it felt eerie and lurking in the shadows, waiting for the right moment to strike. 

As weird as it sounds, Makarov wasn’t your primary concern, as he’ll soon get what he deserves. “The life of a war criminal is as profitable as it is short,” you recall Ghost muttering while cleaning his gun.

It was him who you were most worried about—his physical and mental well-being appeared to be in distress lately.

Every morning, you would catch a glimpse of him out of the corner of your eye while he was helping you. New rips would appear on his clothes overnight, some mended, others beyond repair. “I walked through some shrubs” was his most common excuse. Shrubs don’t cause such damage; knives, on the other hand, are perfectly capable of doing so. 

His left shoulder hardly moved while helping you out, so he relied solely on his right one. He also walked with a limp, which worsened every time he carried heavy crates up to the house. 

He was doing everything he could to take care of himself, but there’s only so much a man can take. Soon, his wounds would be too deep to heal.

You assumed he had a difficult upbringing. You’d never dare ask about his personal life, family, or friends if he had any—but it seemed that he raised himself.

He was overly precise with how he placed each piece of garment on the clothesline. He often left you wondering how he turned chores such as washing dishes into a tactical mission. Even wearing his boots and tucking his trousers inside them seemed too…strategic. 

No parent would teach their son to be so meticulous with these mundane tasks. No child would have the discipline to follow such rigid and strict rules. He seemed more accustomed to surviving than living—as if the military had adopted and raised him to be the man he is today.

Then again, you could see the light in him. It was dim and barely noticeable, but it’d fall through the cracks sometimes. Whenever he’d make you laugh, for example, a speck of light would appear, softening his tough exterior. He seemed more human with each suppressed chuckle he let out as you danced around in victory for nailing a new recipe.

Shit, the recipe—where were you? Ah, yes! The salt. 

It’s impressive how cooking can stimulate such extraordinary levels of introspection. 

Look at you: preparing dinner and analysing an operator’s emotional trauma while a war criminal is on the loose.

The back door swings open—he’s back; the knives and bullets rattling on his tactical vest give him away. Yet they sound different; they reveal a sense of urgency.

You turn to greet him, but he dashes for the stairs.

You catch a glimpse of something on the floor.

Droplets of thick, black liquid shine against the floor, leaving a trail that leads to the stairs.

You take a closer look—it’s not black. It’s crimson. 

He is bleeding.

You sprint to the staircase, climbing two or even three steps simultaneously. Your hands are gripping the rails, pulling yourself up as if that would make you go faster.

He’s running for his room, clutching his left shoulder.

You grab a strap from the back of his vest, but he yanks your hand off and pushes you away, causing you to fall to the ground.

You get up just as he enters his room, but he shuts the door and locks you out.

“How bad is it?” You ask with your hands on the door, trying to reach him through the thick wooden panel.

No answer.

“Let me see—I can help.” You command.

Still no answer.

“FUCK! Answer me, God damn it, yell at me, show me you’re alive!”

Nothing.

There are faint sounds of objects falling to the floor, boxes opening with force, and furniture being pushed around. You sit on the ground with your back against the door.

You bring your legs close to your chest and hug them, your forehead resting on your knees. 

This can’t be happening. It’s a fever dream that’ll soon be over. Simon cannot be in danger; How can he? He is invincible. He just walked through some shrubs, that’s all.

You try to concentrate on sounds, noises, grunts—anything to indicate that he’s working on it.

Focus, try to focus.

He’s fiddling with something—he’s unscrewing a bottle, its contents spilling on the floor. It must be alcohol—he is treating a gunshot wound.

“Are you shot?”

“Shut up for a bloody second, will you?”

He can talk—that’s a good thing. Right?

“What happ-”

“Ya fuck-I said to be quiet.”

You can hear quick, short gasps of air—his breathing becomes more audible with each inhale. He’s about to pry the bullet out.

You close your ears and shut your eyes, trying to block the screams. It’s pointless.

He sounds like an animal being hanged upside down to be slaughtered, screaming in agony.

You can’t help him, but you have to bear it. Bear his screams, his swearing, his pain.

Feeling helpless and useless yourself, you resort to praying. “An atheist until the plane starts falling,” they say. God must be having a laugh looking down at you right now.

The cries stop. You sit up straight, listening closely for any signs of life.

There’s a clink—it’s the bullet hitting the floor.

His breathing gradually returns to normal, his movements getting more controlled and graceful than earlier. He must be patching up his wound now.

“I’m still here.” You mutter.

“Thanks,” he replies.

He’s not okay yet, but he will be. He better be.

“Y/N?”

“Yes?”

“You need to pack your things; our cover is blown.”

———————————————————————

Next ->

[dear-tortured-adam]

❝ 𝐚𝐦𝐚 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐧, 𝐦𝐚𝐚𝐫𝐢 𝐤𝐚𝐲𝐚 ? ❞

╰┈➤ "OUR FATHER, MAYBE?" | HEADCANON POST

⭑.ᐟ lunurin mo ako sa iyong piling. "a southeast serenade" AKA tagalog songs that reminds me of each of the brothers!

⭑.ᐟ pwede bang dinggin aking hiling. lucifer x mc, mammon x mc, leviathan x mc, satan x mc, asmodeus x mc, beelzebub x mc, belphegor x mc — all separately

⭑.ᐟ sa kislap ng iyong mata. hi hi!! the writing sadly did not stop after the barbatos fic. although i miss doing simple headcanon posts, so have this! might also do a full angst version in the future.. inspired by my playlist, hehe. enjoy!! <33

⭑.ᐟ 𝐕𝐈𝐄𝐖 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 —— ikaw lang, NOBITA; tataya, cup of joe; raining in manila, lola amour; ang pag-ibig, rob deniel; pelikula, janine teñoso; tingin, cup of joe; alas dose, cup of joe

translating. . . op! don't worry, eden is here to translate the lyrics for ya! let me know what you think <3

NOW PLAYING : "THE OBEY ME MC IS A FILIPINO??"

⭑ 𝐋𝐔𝐂𝐈𝐅𝐄𝐑; "ikaw lang ang iibigin"

╰┈➤ "ikaw lang" by NOBITA

Tumingin ka sa 'king mga mata At hindi mo na kailangan pang Magtanong nang paulit-ulit Ikaw lang ang iniibig

⭑ rough translation: look into my eyes / and you will never need / to ask over and over again / you're the only one that i love

I wasn't so sure the first time I thought of his character while this played in my earphones. It felt right: the perfectly orchestrated music and the pure raw emotion in the singer's voice.

The thing is, he never makes himself clear. He keeps all these emotions to himself, it's painful.

At kung 'di kumbinsido'y magtiwala ka Hawakan ang puso't maniwala Na ikaw lang ang s'yang inibig Ikaw lang ang iibigin, sinta

⭑ rough translation: and if you're not convinced then believe me / touch my heart and believe me / you're the only one that i loved / you're the only one that i'll ever love

It's funny how it was Lucifer. But the thought felt right, so since then I mostly associate this song to him when talking about his character — until I told a friend about it.

They described it better: Lucifer isn't one to display his emotions greatly and is stubborn. He's someone who's expects you to know what's in his heart and how much he just yearns for your love.

No wonder how when the mask of secrecy slips and the stoic avatar of pride chooses honesty, it feels refreshing.

⭑ 𝐌𝐀𝐌𝐌𝐎𝐍; "tataya pa rin sa'yo"

╰┈➤ "tataya" by cup of joe

‘Wag ka nang magduda pa ‘Di mapagkakaila Magkaiba man ang ating mundo Tataya pa rin sa ‘yo

⭑ rough translation: don't you ever doubt / it's not undeniable / our worlds may be different / i'll still place my bet on you

Okay okay, I got to be honest: this was for the gambling reference.

But also because, hello? Mammon aka mister lover boy?? This was like it was MEANT to be his theme song. I mean I personally believe that he doesn't really prefer listening to this over RGB, but there is a vision!!

The upbeat tone of this song signifies one chasing after their beloved amidst the circumstance: that in the end, it's only them.

An "only us" song.

Saan man mapadpad Madala o malipat Magkalayo man ang ating mundo Tataya pa rin sa ‘yo

⭑ rough translation: wherever we may land / portable or transferable / our worlds may be far apart / i'll still place my bet on you

In short: this is the ultimate simp coded™.

Even in the near end of it, it promises that in the end he'll place a bet on MC.

Because love is one of the world's biggest gambles, and how in spite of his bad luck at casinos — this was one of his few jackpots.

Just his luck, you're his lucky charm!

⭑ 𝐋𝐄𝐕𝐈𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐍; "madilim ba ang mundo?"

╰┈➤ "raining in manila" by lola amour

Kamusta ka na? Kahit 'wag nang sagutin 'Di ba nawala ang kintab ng bituin? Sana gano'n ka nga pa rin

⭑ rough translation: how are you? / don't even answer / hasn't our stars lost their shine? / i hope you're still like that

OKAY OKAY- I know this song is like sad as hell. Don't be fooled by how it sounds like a light-hearted anime ost—

Honestly, any song of Lola Amour fits Leviathan that it's almost intriguing.

But reflecting back to this song, yeah, it talks about love and how you wish the other would reciprocate those feelings, but at the same time you dismiss it yourself.

Cause it's been raining in Manila, hindi ka ba nilalamig? Mahirap bang mag-isang nanginginig? And it's been raining in Manila, hindi ka ba nilalamig 'Pag wala ang mga tala?

⭑ rough translation: cause it's been raining in manila, aren't you cold? / is it difficult to be alone shivering? / and it's been raining in manila, aren't you cold? / when the stars disappear?

This 100% fits for a Leviathan angst. Seriously, everytime I hear this song, I could imagine the beloved snake boy in the rain, looking through his DDD — his player two had left his call on voicemail.

Pair it with Lola Amour's English song "Fallen"? You basically have Leviathan's character study.

Madilim ba ang mundo?

⭑ rough translation: is the world dark?

⭑ 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐀𝐍; "ang pag-ibig mo lamang"

╰┈➤ "ang pag-ibig" by rob deniel

Oh, walang hanggang palaisipan At ikaw na nga ang may pakana

⭑ rough translation: oh, this neverending thinking / and it could only be you

This man, like Levi, could have a whole artist dedicated to him.

This time it would be Rob Deniel— I had a difficult time choosing from three songs for this one.

Ever the romantic, Satan felt like he has mastered the fundamentals of falling in love. Each textbook word and definition is well versed by heart, and the study of love languages was second nature in his head.

So why, why was he feeling a complete stir in his heart?

Pag-ibig mo lamang talaga Ang pag-ibig mo lamang talaga, oh Panghabang-buhay at puno ng kulay Pag-ibig mo lamang talaga ang aking hangad

⭑ rough translation: only your love, truly / only your love, truly, oh / for forever and filled with colour / only your love, truly, is my wish

It makes me sad how some of the fandom forgets that Satan is a romantic, and/or when they play it up to the extremes.

I like how his romanticism is displayed in a near casual manner, as he is still the ever critical and analytical character.

Maybe that's how I resonate this song with him? As he fully tries to make full reason as to how and why he's so infatuated?

Of course, he will never get the full answer. Love can never be explained in mere mortal words.

Paired with "Miss Miss" and "Romcom", and you get a near sealed hypothesis.

⭑ 𝐀𝐒𝐌𝐎𝐃𝐄𝐔𝐒; "ako at ikaw walang iba"

╰┈➤ "pelikula" by janine teñoso

Isayaw mo ako sinta Ibubulong ko ang musika Indak ng puso'y magiging isa Takbo ng mundo'y magpapahinga

⭑ rough translation: offer me a dance, darling / i'll whisper the music / our heartbeat will be one / the spinning world fallen to rest

This song felt so romantically sensual that it just screams Asmodeus to me. Not even one of the most sensual songs, but it just..

I can't exactly explain it, but it's very much the vibes of this song. Kind of like Mabagal by Moira dela Torre, it talks about how your love can outshine others: like stars of your own film.

The definition of a show-stopping romance.

Parang isang pelikula Ilayo man tayo ng tadhana Bumabalik sa bawat eksena Ako at ikaw walang iba

⭑ rough translation: just like a movie / even if destiny separates us / we go back to each scene / me and you, no one else

And he will be flaunting MC like the absolute gem they are. How your memories were watched like scenes, and how he oh so wishes to recreate the fondest ones.

I'm all for the most-of-the-time horny interpretation of Asmodeus, but you can't help but observe how, for the most part, he just simply adores MC beyond comprehension.

The sex was just the bonus of it.

⭑ 𝐁𝐄𝐄𝐋𝐙𝐄𝐁𝐔𝐁; "sa'yo lang ang tingin"

╰┈➤ "tingin" by cup of joe

'Di pinapansin ingay sa tabi Magulong kapaligiran, sa 'yo lang ang tingin 'Di pinapansin, ika'y paiikutin Nang dahan-dahan lang (dahan-dahan lang) sa gitna man ng daan

⭑ rough translation: not paying attention to the noises of the night / a chaotic ensemble - yet you're the only one i see / not paying attention, and i'll spin you / slowly in the middle of the road

Alright, I actually have an explanation for this one. So "Tingin" is a song talking about how the guy's eyes were only focused on his lover the whole time: no matter the chaos that envelopes their surroundings.

Why does it fit Beel in my opinion? It's because of his sin — gluttony. It isn't just about endless hunger, but the main point of the sin was excess.

Overindulgence due to a soul that was never satisfied.

Yet this song shows the opposite of that, the subtle message of finding satisfaction in a specific thing, to the point of ignoring even the most tempting distractions?

And if that something was someone? His beloved pumpkin pie?

Di man alam ang darating Sa dulo at sa gitna ng dilim Sa liwanag mo nakatingin Sa 'yo nakatingin, sa 'yo lang ang tingin

⭑ rough translation: i may not know what comes / at the end and in the middle of the night / to your light, i look / only looking at you, only looking at you

It isn't a full stop of overindulgence, much like how you can't just stop going overboard with everything. To fill that void.

Yet as he lifts his gaze to meet yours, suddenly nothing else mattered.

I might make a small something with this one, who knows?

⭑ 𝐁𝐄𝐋𝐏𝐇𝐄𝐆𝐎𝐑; "doon tayo maglalaro"

╰┈➤ "alas dose" by cup of joe

Hating-gabi na naman Bawat sandaling magdaraan Ay may istoryang ilalahad Samahan natin hanggang walang hanggan

⭑ rough translation: it's still midnight / with each second passing by / has a story to be told / we should follow them by the end of time

It's midnight, on the bed together as you snuggle up with Belphegor.

The song for night owls, the ones that stay up when the stars shine and doze themselves off in the morning. How in the quietest, loneliest hours turned to one of intimacy.

At the observatory, look at the stars. Own the night until it devours you, succumbing to a land where dreams can last forever.

Madaling-araw Nandyad'yan ka pa ba 'Wag kang mapapraning Mahaba pa ang ating hating-gabi

⭑ rough translation: early morning / are you still there? / don't go crazy / our midnight is still long

Belphie checks when he wakes up first. Did you leave? You can't leave.

He feels relieved when he sees you snuggling up to his favourite pillow, the sound of soft snores fill his ears.

The night's still young, and you both have plenty of time before dawn.

notes: this was just me having fun because wow, sudden surge to share this. there are more songs, but I decide to just choose the ones that I think fit them the most— albeit now that i look back at it, i put in 3 songs from cup of joe?? yeah, no favouritism here! and translating the lyrics to English was a bit of a hassle, but hey, hope it got the message across ;v;

let me know your thoughts and/or if you want more of this! that's all for now, hehe, thanks for reading!! expect some edits when i wake up— or don't :"DD.

written by dear-tortured-adam | png from pngblog

[ria-writes-stories]

Ship: Dizzy

Genre: Pillow(extra cotton/wholesome) Deep romance

Description: A cozy little day in a cold world

-------

(No one's pov)

Doll was walking through the empty dark hollow halls of the colony making her way to her home where nothing but cold emptiness awaited her as always, for there was nothing alive in that house other than her, or well, that's the way it should be eitherway.

"I don't remember you saying you'll come over." Doll said as she hugged the shorter female from the back holding her closely to her as her hands rested on her waist while burying her face in Lizzy's neck. "Oh- you're back early..." Lizzy mumbled under her breath as her eyes widen in shock as Doll simply looked up at her with an empty look as Lizzy simply smiled awkwardly and that is when Doll noticed that Lizzy was holding some pans. "What are you doing?" "Cleaning...?" Lizzy said in a puzzled manner as Doll took a look around to see that her messy oily house was slightly less messy.

"..." "You're welcome by the way." Lizzy said as she placed the pots away. "Seriously, you need to clean this place once in a while it's a health hazard!" Lizzy turned around cleaning Doll's cheek which was covered in oil from her most recent victim.

Doll simply held Lizzy's hand, taking it up to her face and placing a loving soft kiss upon it.

Lizzy blushed softly at this action and simply looked away shyly. "So uh- wanna go to my place? Girls night?" Lizzy was overly shy when it came to their love, ashamed maybe even, whatever you wish to call it she felt it was wrong to some extent. No she wasn't a homophobic lesbian, she just never expected to be so sloppy when she is used to be in control and confident, so, they had a bunch of codes that meant different things depending on the circumstances, for example, right now Lizzy wanted to be alone with Doll in the comfort of her home.

In a blink of an eye the two girls were on Lizzy's bed as Doll held Lizzy closely on top of her with her hands warped around her waist in a firm gentle loving manner while looking into her eyes with a calm cold look.

Lizzy sighed and rolled her eyes as she rested her head on Doll's chest. "You're such a drama queen." Lizzy was indeed slightly annoyed with Doll's powers, because they concerned her. Ever since Doll's parents kicked the bucket Lizzy had to keep her now psycho girlfriend in check. She knew she couldn't. She knew it was a lost cause. She knew she'd only get hurt from this point on but she couldn't let go, she couldn't she-

Doll gently cupped Lizzy's cheek and it wasn't until then that Lizzy realised that she was crying while her mind trailed off into the worst scenarios possible. Doll's gentle yet cold touch made Lizzy look into her deep red eyes, hollow and empty and yet, so pure, pure for they were filled with love, the reason why Lizzy was still there, because Lizzy was there to begin with. That strange unreadable look yet so calm and gentle was what always got Lizzy.

Lizzy sighed softly as Doll cleaned her tears away while pulling her closer to herself, gently pressing their foreheads together. "What's hurting you?" "Nothing." "Don't lie to me." "..." "How many times do I have to tell you that you don't have to ever worry about me?" Doll said as she kissed Lizzy's cheek affectionately. "I worry about us." Lizzy said in a quite frail voice as Doll kissed away her tears away before placing a soft loving kiss upon both of her eyelids. "I love you." Doll said as she kissed Lizzy's forehead. "I love you." Doll whispered as she kissed her cheek, and a kiss after a kiss Lizzy was covered in Doll's affectionate smoothering.

Lizzy's cheeks turned into a soft pink rose shade as she looked at Doll sheepishly as she went in for a kiss while Doll held her by the waist as her other hand intertwined their fingers together while they shared a deep loving soft kiss. It was gentle, it was slow, it was a slowly rising heat within their bodies and heart and it was what made such moments together so very special and wonderful for there was only one and the other.

She was her everything. Her beautiful laughter, her perfect eyes, her mesmerizing voice, and that thick accent of hers, oh the ways Doll would drive her crazy to the point she'd find herself crying helplessly knowing in the vulnerable state she ended up for this woman she adored so much.

She wasn't her everything, not by a long shot, because that would mean she had anything to begin with. Her soft pink eyes, her soft tender lips, her delicate skin. Doll felt hollow and empty, always attaching herself to those she considered as not leeches, for that is how she saw most people, as leeches. But Lizzy wasn't a not leeches, or a leech. Lizzy was something else, something that Doll could never express. They call it love. Doll doesn't know what to call it. All she knows is that she engulfs herself within her presence and everything else around her goes numb and silent in the most comforting way possible.

The two cuddled up closely to each other constantly moving restlessly searching for the best position to embrace each other but each moment they stopped moving for longer than ten seconds they'd start moving again, no position was good enough for them. If Doll was scooping Lizzy, than Lizzy couldn't scoop Doll. If Lizzy was curled up into Doll's chest, than Doll couldn't see her face. If Doll was holding Lizzy on top of her, Lizzy couldn't rest her head down because she couldn't see Doll's face anymore if she rested her face in her neck, but that was her favourite place to rest as well.

The movement would stop when Doll would pick one of the many hug holding positions and firmly hold Lizzy not allowing her to move anymore, because truly Lizzy was the pretentious queen always having a complaint, always changing something, as while Doll would settle for whatever. Trapped within her arms Lizzy had no option but to lay down and rest as they kept each other warm despite the fact that Doll could very easily overheat, it was a risk that Doll didn't mind taking for her.

Doll kissed her over and over again as Lizzy simply let it happen, slowly closing her eyes and drifting to sleep.

Doll held her closely and lovingly, kissing her affectionately as she looked at her with adoring eyes. What was there not to love? She was confident, she was strong in her own ways, she was smarter than she looked it, she was incredible, a wonder, a star among particles of dust in this vast world, and she wanted her all for herself, forever and ever.

Lizzy's eyes open immediately as she felt herself alone, looking straight in front of her without moving an inch or moving her eyes, feeling cold and alone as Doll was nowhere to be seen, before she sadly closed her eyes again going back to sleep sadden that her lover had left her without a warning, only to awaken again with Doll holding her tightly as if she would vaporize otherwise. "Sorry. Your father came in to check on you." Doll explained as she kissed Lizzy all over her face to take away her sadness and pain as her still half asleep girlfriend simply whined and nuzzled into her affectionately.

Doll gave her neck a soft peck as she continued to hold her tightly to herself.

Lizzy ran her fingers through Doll's hands as she hummed softly resting her head on her chest.

The two eventually fell back asleep while holding each other, but they would wake up in the middle of the night at different times, adoring each other in looks and soft caresses before going back to sleep unknowingly doing this like a night cycle to one another.

Each expressed themselves differently but their love was there and it was strong, and nothing would change that. Doll would make sure.

The end

[moron-hassaikai-and-more]

Character ask: hojo!!

:0 UNDERRATED CRYSTAL BOI!!

Quick heads up: there’s brief overdose mention and suicide right at the end so be wary of that if you think that’ll be triggering to you.

What I like about him: How much he clearly cares for Tabe and Setsuno (blah blah the camaraderie warms my heart, blah blah trauma from having no friends in school blah blah), pretty Crystals, buff man make brain go brrr.

What I dislike about him: that one screenshot where you can see he’s got stubble under his mask. No. Fucking shave your face dude. You already shave your head. Also that he got no screen time outside of getting his ass kicked :’)

Favourite moment: explaining why he and the other 2/3s of the trash trio are so close and that they’re not worth anything without each other (EEEEEEEEEE-)

Least favourite moment:

Cries at that panel

Situations I want to see more: Give me day to day trash trio shenaniganary. I want them doing normal stuff: going grocery shopping, hanging out with the other bullets, pestering overhaul, just slice of life stuff. I’d also love his relationships with Toya and Tabe to be developed more. Like, yeah, they’re trash but with each other they’re trash with meaning (EEEEEEEE-*is knocked out) but I want to know the actual dynamics. Toya is supposed to be the leader, do they actual respect that? (See more on this in the head cannon bit)

Interesting AU: One where he’s in a bizarre interlinked family tree with like, 6 others from the series. This is one me and my bf made, I dubbed it the Sin AU because each person’s quirk is from one of the seven deadly sins: Midnight is Lust, Deidoro is Gluttony, Monoma is Envy, Hojo is Greed, Tiger is Sloth, and there were two more I can’t recall at the current time. It doesn’t really do much other than add another layer of depth to the character, but I think it’s cool none the less. (Also I wanna see how the family reunions would go lol)

Crossover: Give this man a cavern crasher, give this man a rock stomper, we’re going to Berk, Gadies and Lents. I wanna see the entire Hassaikai with dragons from how to train your dragon so bad!! (I actually have headcannons for everyone! If you want to know I’ll elaborate in the notes)

OTP: ok ok ok. It’s weird, I know, but you gotta hear me out on this one: Hojo and Pixie Bob. The reason I say this is linked back to the Sin AU (Ibara must have coded my iPad or something, it won’t let me type sin without autocorrecting to sun a million times) because I Headcannon Deidoro and Ragdoll to be friends/partners/no one can fucking tell, so because Ragdoll and pixie are best friends, and in that au Deidoro and hojo were brothers, plus Hojo and tiger were related, it just kinda fell into place. Plus Pixie is super desperate for a partner and I feel like Hojo gets zero bitches, he’s the human embodiment of the ‘No bitches?’ Meme. Anyways.

Other ships: Overhaul and Chrono (because under no circumstance will I ever split them up). Purely cos I saw a post saying that entire rant about the trash trio being useless without overhaul and them owing everything to him was said by Hojo, not Setsuno, and it sounding like he had a crush on him.

BROTP: the rest of the trash trio. Duh.

NOTP: anyone from the league except now that I think about it I can weirdly see him working with Magne? …hm. And any pro too.

Headcannon time!!!

1. While Setsuno is the ‘leader’ of the trash trio, and he’s good at it, don’t get me wrong, he can definitely strategise and knows what he’s doing, he’s terrible at just…existing day to day life, so Hojo typically has to help him. He’s his common sense, in a way. He’s to Setsuno what Tengai is to Rappa, just both are a lot happier with the arrangement.

2. He and Setsuno actually knew each other before they joined the hassiakai, not well but they attended the same school and had a few classes together.

3. He’s 22 years old and the oldest of the trash trio. He’s also the third tallest in the bullets at 6’1 (only Rappa and Katsukame are taller cos…yeah. Btw this is completely ignoring the canon evidence showing otherwise because Tabe is not allowed to be tall. He is baby and he is no taller than 5’3 and I will bite anyone who says otherwise. I’m only saying this because I want to be taller than at least one person in the hassiakai-)

4. Sad backstory time. He was orphaned: his dad cheated on his mum before Hojo was born and his mum died of a drug overdose when he was around four. He was then moved to live with his aunt who..wasn’t an amazing parent but was better than what he had previously. As he got older, about 16, he found out what actually happened with his parents, and attempted to find his dad. He eventually managed to get in contact with him- however his dad wanted nothing to do with him. This destroyed him and he attempted to end his life, however overhaul found him and took him in. A few months later, Setsuno joined, and then Tabe about half a year after that, and with that, the trash trio was fully formed.

Huh. Didn’t know I had that much to say about him. I really thought I’d have a few sentences for each question…anyways, hope you enjoyed!

[bestworstcase]

on ‘villainy’ and varian’s and cassandra’s moral codes

for all that varian’s and cassandra’s villain arcs get compared to death they’re really more different than they are similar, and i think one of the more interesting distinctions is the characters’ moral perspectives on their own actions--namely that varian recognizes his own choices as villainous and consciously self-identifies as a ‘bad guy’ and cassandra not only…doesn’t do that but appears legitimately taken aback when varian says she’s ‘become the villain.’ from this we can infer that varian is transgressing his own personal sense of right and wrong while cassandra isn’t.

and… well with varian i think it’s pretty straightforward: he’s a kid who desperately wants to make the world a better place and make his father proud, but his impulsivity and recklessness and general disregard for lab safety foil his plans and get him into trouble. then one of his accidents puts his dad into what is essentially a magical coma and varian becomes singularly focused on reviving him--and, when he realizes that the king is more invested in covering up the problem than fixing it and his only hope lies with a zealously guarded relic belonging to the kingdom, he decides that the only way to achieve this goal is to start breaking the rules.

so he asks rapunzel--his friend who promised to help him--to retrieve some information the king is trying to steal from him, and then persuades her to help him access the sundrop vault; then when she balks at stealing it he makes it clear that he no longer trusts her and escapes with the flower. at this point he’s in the morally dubious zone; being strategic about what he tells rapunzel to make sure she helps him, spiking cookies with truth serum to sow chaos and get information he needs, and doing things that are crimes on paper but also largely victimless. i think these were things varian could probably rationalize as okay--not exactly good, but no one got hurt and he got what he needed.

except the flower’s magic is gone. he drugged the palace, manipulated rapunzel and broke her trust in him, and committed treason all for something useless because the actual magic of the sundrop is in rapunzel herself. now he’s in trouble, because he needs rapunzel’s help but his desperate measures guaranteed she won’t be willing to help him again. and this is when varian realizes that his only options are 1. give up on saving his dad and turn himself in and hope rapunzel takes pity on him, or 2. accept that no one is going to help him now and do whatever it takes to free quirin himself.

so--mutating ruddiger, attacking the city, kidnapping arianna and threatening her with encasement in amber, building an automaton army to defend him while he works--these are all things that varian feels are wrong, but chooses to do anyway because he doesn’t trust that anyone else will even try to save his father. despite his anger and his rationalizations, at the end of the day varian sees himself as doing bad things for good reasons. (“Believe me, I know/I’ve sunk pretty low” & “I’m the bad guy, that’s fine”)

and when his reasons fall through--when he fails to free his dad--he falls quickly into guilt and despair over having hurt people for nothing. he stews for a year in how unforgivable and ashamed he feels, and even when he teams up with the separatists, he’s doing it in, basically, pursuit of a reset button: he wants to take back what he did. and when rapunzel shows him that he can be forgiven, he can have a second chance, he does have people who are willing to help him and trust him again, he drops the memory-wiping idea and his alliance with the separatists without a second thought--because what rapunzel actually does is give him a way to pursue his goals without sacrificing his conscience, which is what he really needed the whole time.

now, cassandra, on the other hand…

cass is an interesting character in this regard because, while she does want to be a hero, she’s not at all altruistic. she’s consumed by her lack of autonomy and she craves not only control over her own life but also respect from the people around her--her desire to be a hero is very self-interested, at its core. and moreover she has a somewhat fatalistic view of the world wherein some people (not her) matter and some… just don’t. 

moreover cassandra, despite her ambitions of becoming a guard, doesn’t so much as blink at eugene’s or the pub thugs’ criminal pasts--she is suspicious of lance at first, but on the grounds that he’s an unrepentant thief who showed up out of the blue under suspicious circumstances to ‘reconnect’ with his old partner in crime; eugene is also distrustful of lance, for the exact same reasons--and of course she doesn’t think twice about breaking the law herself. literally one of the very first things we see cassandra do is commit treason to make her friend happy. cass doesn’t care about the law, and she only wants to be a guard because she associates getting the job with having her dad’s approval and it’s also her ticket out of lifelong servitude.

on the other hand, cass does seem have a strong sense of right and wrong where people she cares about are concerned. she is constantly putting the desires and well-being of her friends ahead of not just her ambitions (e.g. in beginnings for rapunzel, or great expotations for varian) but also her own safety (e.g. risking her livelihood and home to sneak rapunzel out for the night in bea, or setting aside her misgivings about the sketchy bird people in freebird). 

which is all to say--cass isn’t exactly amoral but the moral framework through which she sees the world is… more complicated than varian’s. she doesn’t seem particularly motivated to help strangers but she’ll move mountains to help people she cares about; she doesn’t care much about rules or laws except insofar as she doesn’t want to get caught breaking them, and she has this hierarchical mindset that some people matter--meaning, they get to make decisions for themselves and have people care about what they need and want--and some don’t, and that she herself is stuck in the latter category despite her best efforts to climb out of it.

which brings us to the subject of the moonstone, and cassandra’s villain arc, and why cass, unlike varian, doesn’t consider herself a bad person.

i think what it comes down to most is this: taking the moonstone is an act of defiance against not only rapunzel but also fate itself. waiting in the wings sets up cassandra’s resigned acceptance of this hierarchical order and her own cosmic insignificance, and then in crossing the line she REJECTS that same order. she’s raging against rapunzel but also against the cultural and legal and destined systems that put rapunzel on top and forced cass into subservience. she is very literally fighting for her freedom against the universe itself.

and when cass was not an altruistic or heavily morally motivated or even particularly law-abiding person before, and when her conscience has always been predominantly oriented around taking care of her friends first and herself second, and when the thing that drove her to this breaking point was her friends spitting that back in her face… well.

it’s easy to say “cass literally tried to murder rapunzel a bunch of times, how can she possibly believe she’s the good guy?”--but rapunzel maimed cass, blamed her for it, and consistently prioritized her destiny over cassandra’s wellbeing; and rapunzel represents the cosmic order that cass is fighting to liberate herself from. and while i know that the -popular- take on be very afraid is “cass is terrified of hurting rapunzel,” i submit it’s actually “cass is terrified of having to fight rapunzel, because she still believes that fate is literally tilted in rapunzel’s favor and she can’t win a direct fight with rapunzel.” that’s why she’s so scared; that’s why rapunzel seemingly deleting the red rocks hardens her resolve; that’s why she marches into corona with maximum drama and bluster and builds a fortress and tries so hard to mess with rapunzel’s head before the battle begins. she’s trying to even the odds. and that’s why, when rapunzel stomps her into the curb, cassandra’s immediate response is “i need an army.”

cassandra isn’t scared for rapunzel. she is scared OF rapunzel.

we do also see cass trying not to harm people she considers to be innocent bystanders; she uses the truth serum on varian bc she needs the incantation, but afterwards she doesn’t even bother to restrain him until after he starts pestering her, she says flat out that she doesn’t want him to get hurt when she fights rapunzel; similarly she is willing to hurt calliope to force rapunzel to comply, but--despite her deep personal dislike of calliope--uses a minimum amount of force and again verbally expresses that she doesn’t particularly want to hurt her, that it’s a means to an end and nothing more. attacking rapunzel? that’s fine, rapunzel is her enemy. attacking eugene? of course, he’s rapunzel’s closest ally. mind controlling the brotherhood? that kills two birds with one stone--eliminating powerful enemies with a vested interest in taking the moonstone away from her and turning them into allies who can level the playing field between her and rapunzel. and when she does finally snap and raze corona to the ground? the people of corona attacked her first. i think cass ABSOLUTELY sees herself as fighting a purely defensive war against people who have or will hurt her.

and this is, of course, ultimately why varian failed to get through to her during ‘nothing left to lose’--he appealed to her sense of morality and her sense of morality shrugged. 

as for the thing that snaps her out of it? the moment that forces her to question whether she’s really as right as she thinks she is? it’s learning who her new friend really is. it’s the shock of finding out that she’s been allied with, confiding in, taking advice from a legendary villain, from a monster she likely grew up hearing stories about. cass takes it as a given that zhan tiri is evil--and if she’s friends with zhan tiri, what does that make her? and even then, cass is resistant to the idea that she might be a villain--“No, no, I’m nothing like you. Just because I’m pursuing my destiny doesn’t make me a bad person!”--which is, ultimately, very telling of her whole mindset. she’s not a bad guy, she’s fighting for her freedom. she’s not a bad guy, she’s protecting herself against people who want to exploit her. she’s not a bad guy, she’s just putting herself first for once.

and OAH generally, i’d argue, is not actually about cassandra trying to reconcile with rapunzel or redeem herself or be a better person, it’s… literally cass trying frantically to prove she’s NOT the bad guy. it’s “oh yeah? you think i’m a bad person? well could a bad guy do THIS? *lies and impersonates a former coworker and gets up on a stage to justify her own actions in front of a crowd*” it’s “a bad guy wouldn’t apologize, rapunzel never apologized for anything, and to prove i’m a better person I’M going to apologize! see? SEE!?”--and then everyone in corona attacks her and she goes “FINE, i’m the bad guy, fuck you all” and wrecks the place.

only then--only in plus est en vous--does cassandra get into a mindset similar to varian’s, of “i am the bad guy but if i can pull this off it will be worth it.” she’s not sorry. she still sees rapunzel as an enemy trying to get her under control again, and the only thing that’s really changed is cassandra acknowledging that she has in fact done bad things too.

and… i would argue that by the end of plus est cassandra… feels some guilt but isn’t sorry. “i’ve failed” and “i’ve done terrible things” and “i tried to prove i was more than everyone thought but they were right”--her anguish is not like varian’s anguish in RR, where he was consumed with despair because no one could possibly forgive him for the things he did. cassandra is upset because she did awful things and failed and she perceives that failure as proof of her own worthlessness. she’s right back to feeling how she felt in waiting in the wings but with a hefty new helping of self-disgust and shame for having been stupid enough to believe she could change anything for herself. 

she’s not sorry. she’s not pleading for forgiveness. she just wants rapunzel to give up and leave her alone--& then, after rapunzel convinces her that she’s wrong, and she does have worth as a person, and she does have a destiny of her own, cass does what’s necessary to clean up the crisis she created and then… just bounces. she gets the freedom she wanted and leaves without a backward glance.

(which. good for her.)

tl;dr: varian’s villain arc explores his moral scruples and what it takes for him to be willing to ignore them, whereas cassandra’s villain arc explores her incendiary reaction to a lifetime of injustices; she isn’t amoral but her sense of right and wrong is, unlike varian’s, very contextual and personal. varian is a pragmatic idealist who wants to be lawful good but is capable of setting his own morals aside in pursuit of a goal he considers to be important enough, and cassandra is one radicalizing incident away from realizing that her grievances are not a unique personal failing but a systemic problem and then leading a class uprising.

[ticklishfiend]

Pure Gold (My Hero Academia)

Lee!Mina / Ler!Bakugou ⚠️PLATONIC⚠️

A/N : haven’t posted a fic in a while cause my laptop broke but hey!! i fixed it!! so here we go. i wanna make a sequel to this with the sleepover mentioned at the end, so if ur interested or have any ideas, lemme know!!

Summary: Mina catches Bakugou in a very incriminating circumstance, and of course, records it (cause how could she not). Unfortunately for her, Bakugou doesn’t think this is as funny as she thinks it is, but decides to make her laugh with his own methods anyways.

Word Count: 3084

REBLOGS ARE GREATLY APPRECIATED, MWAH <33 xoxo

. . .

Mina rolled onto her right side for what had to be the millionth time tonight, nothing ever feeling comfortable enough to just loll her into the right sleepy headspace she needed to get some goddamn shuteye. She’s never really had many problems with falling asleep before, so why tonight she had to be burdened with this temporary insomnia was beyond her. 

Mina threw her arm out behind her back towards her bedside table, fingers fumbling around for her phone before finding it connected to the charger. Detaching it from it’s plug, she brought it towards her, face flinching at the sudden brightness before her eyes adjusted to the light. She groaned as she scanned over the time, 1:02AM, far later than she would typically still be awake. Sure, it was Friday so she didn’t have any classes to worry about the next day, but it was still frustrating to get off her normal sleeping schedule so suddenly and for seemingly no reason. She had to fix it soon before she pulled an accidental all-nighter.

Whining and groaning the whole way, Mina threw her legs out over the side of her bed, dangling her feet for a moment before slipping them into her cute fuzzy panda slippers she kept on her bedside. The girl figured her best bet for now would be to drink one of the soothing teas that Momo kept lying around in the kitchen for anyone to use. She dragged herself towards the door, allowing her arms to stretch over her head with a yawn before grabbing at the cold metal door handle and slowly creaking open the entrance. 

She was careful to be quiet, turning the handle before shutting the door as to avoid any unnecessary clicks. She’d be damned if she made any of her light-sleeper classmates go through the same sleepless night she was currently going through by waking them up so late in the night. She walked heel to toe through the carpeted hallway, finding her way to the elevator finally and breathing a sigh of relief as the doors closed without a dinging sound.

After what felt like a treacherous journey, she finally made it to the corner that would lead her to both the kitchen and common area. But, before she turned the corner, she saw a light illuminating off the walls coming from the commons. Her brow quirked, not expecting any type of light to be shining from the area.

No worries, she thought. If someone accidentally left a light on I’ll just turn it off real quick so no one gets in trouble, easy peasy! She finally made it around the corner when it finally dawned on her where the light source was coming from in the first place; the TV.

Her eyes met the muted TV that seemed to be playing a...romance anime? The subtitles were on and the volume was completely turned off, so whoever had been watching it was obviously aware of how late it was and was trying to stay quiet for the rest of the class like Mina had been.

The pink girl watched the screen for a moment, reading the subtitles to find that one of the characters had apparently just confessed their love to someone else in some heroic fashion. It was super cute, and she’ll definitely have to look up whatever this is so she can watch it in her own time. Before she could make her way towards the action to turn the TV off, however, she heard...is that…?

...sniffles? 

She paused, her ears perking up at the sound just in case she had imagined it. Then, no more than 3 seconds later, she heard it again. Sniffles, this time accompanied by a little groan of what sounded like endearment. This is so cute, she thought to herself, bringing her hand to her mouth to cover up any giggles that dared to escape. Someone’s crying about a romance anime right now, and it definitely sounded like one of the boys too! There’s no way I can’t find out who this is.

As quietly and sneakily as the acidic girl possibly could, she made her way towards the back of the couch, crouching down just slightly as to not alert them with her shadow. She finally allowed her eyes to peer just above the top of the cushion aaaand…

…

BAKUGOU?!

Mina could hardly believe what she was seeing. Was she complaining? Absolutely not, this was pure gold, it was just surprising! THE Bakugou Katsuki, curled up on the corner of the couch swaddled in a fluffy All Might blanket, tears pooling at the corners of his eyes with an actual smile on his face. He stuffed his mouth with popcorn before wiping his tears with the corner of his printed blanket, muffling a small “Finally,” into the fabric. 

There was no chance in hell Mina was going to miss this golden opportunity.

Like a spy, Mina quickly but quietly snatched her phone from the pocket of her sleep shorts, opening the camera before pressing record. She zoomed in on the romantic scene displayed on the screen, before slowly panning down to the still sniffling Bakugou, the light from the TV bright but his smile even brighter. She hit the off button before stuffing the phone back in her pocket with a grin, quietly making her way towards the kitchen.

She went to take a mug out of one of the top cabinets, purposefully shutting it louder than she needed to to alert the blonde on the sofa. He jumped at the noise, whipping his head around towards the girl before throwing his arm towards the coffee table to snatch the remote and turn the TV off with force.

“Why the fuck are you in here, Pinky?!!” Bakugou whisper-shouted from across the room, and though the light from the TV was now gone, Mina could just tell he had to be blushing from embarrassment. She grinned widely.

“Oh, y’know, couldn’t sleep,” She smirked, not looking Bakugou’s direction while filling her kettle with tap water. “I’m guessing the romantic buildup had to be pretty intense to make THE Lord Explosion Murder shed a few tears, huh?”

Bakugou froze before his body started to shake with anger, launching himself over the back of the couch and lunging towards Mina, grabbing her by the shoulders and digging his fingers into the flesh aggressively. He was seething, his jaw clenched and eyes white with anger, and though Mina was a little shaken up when he initially grabbed her, she couldn’t help but giggle when remembering what she had just seen moments ago.

“I WILL KILL YOU, YOU ALIEN FUCK!” He almost-shouted, and it was obvious he was still cautious of waking anyone up so Mina wouldn’t be able to tell anyone about what she had witnessed. “You keep this shit to yourself, got it?! Cause I’m not scared to fucking kill you!”

“Oh I know that, Blasty,” she smiled up at him, unable to suppress another giggle. “It’s too bad I got your little cry-sesh on camera then, huh?”

Bakugou’s face fell, his eyes wide before he squeezed even tighter into her shoulders. “You...you WHAT?!?!” Mina had meant to let out another laugh at his expense, but it turned into a yelp as she was aggressively hoisted up over his shoulder. 

Mina kicked and laughed, hitting at his back to no avail as he stomped towards the couch and unceremoniously threw her down onto it, pinning her against the cushions, her hands now laying flat underneath his knees that were thrown over her waist.

“Woah, take me out to dinner first!” Mina’s eyes were wide as she let out a nervous chuckle. She tugged at her hands, but they weren’t going anywhere under his weight. She even tried kicking a little against the cushion, but yet again, nothing.

“Not into you like that, Pinky,” He aggressively pointed towards her face, the angry scowl never leaving his now wrinkled expression. “And you’re gonna delete that fucking video, got it?!”

“Are you kidding me?! I could never delete that! It’s gold and you know it!” Mina exasperated, shocked he could even consider that a possibility. 

“NO IT’S FUCKING NOT!” He whisper-shouted into her face, moving his hand even closer to her face until it booped her nose, her eyes crossing down to look at it. “Delete it, Horns...or I’ll fucking make you.”

Mina uncrossed her eyes and looked up to Bakugou, whose face remained angry and undeterred. She sighed, “Ok, first of all, they’re not horns; they’re antennas. Secondly, you were too cute in the video to delete it! I’m sorry, Baku, but I can’t do that.”

Bakugou just grunted, moving both of his hands down now to grip at her waist, making her eyes widen with a sudden knowing fear. “I am NOT cute, and you WILL delete that fucking video, Pink-Fuck! You always give in to this shit,” Bakugou couldn’t help the smirk that rose on his face as he squeezed her sides once, making her jump and yelp.

“Nohoho! Bakugou, please, not thihis!” Mina couldn’t help the giggles that left her lips even if he hadn’t properly done anything yet. It was just the knowing of what was to come that caused nervous laughter to bubble from her chest and into both their ears.

“It doesn’t have to be this way, moron,” Bakugou said, eyeing down at her waist before noticing the phone-sized bulge in her shorts pocket. He smirked, reaching down and pulling it from its hiding spot. He looked at the screen before huffing, turning it to face her eyes. “Gimme the code. Now.”

“No way! You’ll just delete the video!” Mina said before yelping with another jerk as he pinched at her side again. “Dohon’t!” He sat her phone down on the arm of the couch before wiggling both his hands over her belly, the sight alone making her shriek and let out a flow of giggles.

“You’re gonna wanna give me that code, loser,” Bakugou grinned, jerking his hands down towards her stomach without touching her and bringing them back up, making Mina jerk aggressively with another yelp. “I haven’t even touched you yet and you’re already freaking out! This is gonna fucking suck for you if you don’t let me delete that damn video!” 

Mina just pursed her mouth shut tightly, shaking her head “no” while letting little huffs of suppressed laughs escape from her nose. Bakugou just sighed, raising his wiggling fingers just slightly higher before a wide, sadistic grin cemented itself to his face.

“You asked for this.”

Before she had time to retaliate, wiggling fingers came down to pinch up her sides and into the dips of her ribs, sending her into a cackling fit. She kicked uselessly from behind him, tugging at her trapped hands to no avail.

Bakugou used his right hand to dig his fingertips into the bottom of her ribs, while skittering his other nails over her quivering belly. She sucked her stomach in as much as possible, but with each laugh it was brought back up, practically tickling itself on his fingers.

“Bakugohohou! Plehehease! Nohoho!” She squealed, her eyes squeezed tightly shut as he continued his relentless but playful torture.

“No what?” the blonde teased, using his index and middle fingers to vibrate into her tummy. She let out a shriek at that, jerking violently while trying to smush her face into the cushion beside her. “Ohoho, that bad, huh? Pretty effective method if I do say so myself,” Bakugou then used his two fingers on each hand to vibrate into her lower ribs, a spot he knows all too well is absolutely unforgiving. She screamed at this, shaking her head side to side as laughs poured from her gut. “I always get what I want, Pinky, and this isn’t gonna be any fucking different.”

Mina couldn’t help the loud shrieks and squeals that left her body, tossing herself from side to side with no effect whatsoever. “GAHAHAHA! Plehehease! It tickles too muhuhuch!”

“Not my fucking problem,” Bakugou went back to his squeezing method from before, this time bringing one hand down to pinch at her hip. Mina jolted at the touch, screaming and cackling at his relentless squeezing. “The code, moron, lest you forget about what got you here in the first place.”

“Nehehever! I cahahan’t!” she laughed before gasping in a breath of air as his hands let go of her body for a moment. She hesitantly opened one of her eyes to look at her tormentor, who was yet again wiggling his fingers over her tummy. She shut her eyes again tight at the sight, a new bout of giggles leaving her from anticipation. “Nohoho!”

“You can never handle being teased, can ya?” Bakugou grinned, before bringing both his hands back down to lift up her nightshirt up to her bottom ribs.

“No! No no no! Please! Bakugou, let’s talk about this!” Mina spluttered out nervously, opening her eyes to see him just ghosting his fingers over her still quivering belly. She tossed her head back with a giggly whine, kicking her feet behind him like a child in a tantrum.

“Nope. You had your damn chance, and you blew it,” He smirked devilishly, bringing his fingers down to gently skitter over her now bare belly, dissolving her into a fit of high-pitched giggles. “Now you’re gonna get-” BZZZ! BZZZ!

Bakugou paused his previously wiggling fingers, his head whipping up and eyes making contact with the now buzzing phone resting on the arm of the couch. He groaned when he read who was calling on Mina’s FaceTime, resting one hand on his knee while reaching out and swiping the phone from it’s resting spot (though his knees were still pressed firmly against Mina’s trapped hands- he hadn’t yet planned on stopping her torment.)

Bakugou pressed the bright green button on the screen and stared blankly at the dark screen as Denki answered. The boy had obviously been trying to sleep, evident by the fact no lights were on in his room.

“Bakugou?” The boy asked groggily on the other end, and even though Bakugou couldn’t technically see his face, he knew he had to have the dumbest expression printed all over it.

“Yes, what the hell do you want Pikachu?” Bakugou growled at the screen.

“Can you tell Mina to quit screaming? I could tell it’s her, her laughs are always the same; just so fuckin’ loud,” Denki chuckled, and Bakugou could hear his sheets shuffling. “What’s got her laughing so hard anyway? You aren’t exactly the funniest person on the planet.”

“I’M FUCKING HILARIOUS YOU DUNCE!” Bakugou shouted angrily into the phone, gripping it tightly as Mina just prayed he wouldn’t crush it with his pure fiery rage. “And that’s none of your fucking buisness!” Bakugou paused, looking down at Mina who had a sheepish grin on her face. He sighed. “She’ll be quiet now. Just go to sleep so you aren’t dumber tomorrow than you usually are,” Bakugou huffed, hanging up without allowing the blonde on the other end to get any word in. 

The explosive teen threw Mina’s phone down beside her on the couch, hoisting himself off her with a scowl on his face and a roughness to his movements. Mina couldn’t help but feel a little guilty as he jerked his blanket out from under the girl aggressively and began making his way away from the couch. She quickly sat up and snatched his wrist, pulling him back slightly and making the boy grunt, looking back at her with tense brows.

“How about a compromise?” She proposed, a small grin on her face. He looked at her through squinted eyes for a moment, questioning her request. Finally, he rolled his eyes with a huff.

“Hit me with it,” he didn’t look at her in the eyes, but she celebrated internally at the fact he wasn’t too visibly angry at her.

“I’ve got a sleepover tomorrow with all the girls, and we’ve been dying for a special guest,” She bit her lip with a cheek-tearing smirk as his brow somehow managed to furrow even deeper. “Hang out with us for just a few hours tomorrow night; you don’t even have to sleep over, just stay for the fun parts. I’ll delete the video as soon as it’s over.”

He continued to stare at her questioningly, obviously not convinced nor happy with this compromise. She needed to give him more.

“I promise I won’t show a soul the video if you promise to go tomorrow. No one will even know it existed before it’s already gone,” she said, before deciding to finally pull out the big guns. She pouted out her bottom lip and lowered her wide eyes, eyebrows piercing upwards like a sad puppy. “Pleeease Bakugou? I promise it’ll be fun!”

He paused, staring at her sad little face and feeling himself go slightly soft inside while staring at his friend. He squeezed his eyes shut tight and jerked his arm out of the girl’s grasp with a loud groan.

“Fine...as long as this shit stays between us...I guess I’ll go,” Bakugou nearly whispered the last part, as if the words had to crawl their way out of his throat while being tied down from his sheer stubbornness alone. 

Mina couldn't help the shriek of excitement she let out, her mouth quickly getting covered by Bakugou's large calloused hand while his other planted an index finger on his own mouth towards her. “Shut the fuck up Pinky, we already woke Dunce up!” She just smiled behind his hand, nodding up and down quickly.

Bakugou let out a sigh as he moved his hand from her face, using his fingers to squeeze at the bridge of his nose. “You are so fucking annoying, y’know that?”

Mina just giggled, standing up and giving Bakugou a hug so quick he couldn’t pull away from it. He stood in shock for a moment, before shoving her shoulder and making the girl fall back on the couch with an oof! followed by her giggles. He just rolled his eyes with a, “Tch,” throwing his blanket over his shoulder and walking towards the hallways.

“Night, Blasty! Get ready for the night of your life tomorrow!” She whisper-shouted towards the exiting boy, who only flipped her off as his body finally disappeared into the shadows of the shared hallways.

. . .

A/N : hope you enjoyed!! i didn’t rlly proofread this so if it’s terribly written i apologize lmaoo, again if ur interested in a part 2 lemme know!!! much love <3 xoxo

[neonacity]

Black Daisies Chapter 7| Proem

Preview:

“Only the dead have seen the end of war.”

An NCT mafia AU with OT23. Summary: Working for the mafia comes with many layers. There’s excitement, violence, loss, and betrayals. Yet there’s also friendship, family, loyalty, and code. The last thing it needs? Love and all the complexities it brings.

TW: violence, death, mentions of drugs and other illegal activities. If you’re uncomfortable with any of these, feel free to skip. Author’s note: This is purely a work of fiction. In no way am I supporting all the illegal activities and behaviors that might be mentioned in the story nor am I implying that any member of NCT acts whichever way I may write them here.

Chapter: 1/ First Stage

Chapter: 2/Overture

Chapter: 3/The Conductor

Chapter: 4/Crescendo

Chapter: 5/Canzona

Chapter: 6/Rapture

Johnny's eyes scanned the writhing bodies on the dance floor from his position behind the bar. Around him, the bartenders juggled making drinks and bartering drugs, while some patrons smoked and got high off of their chosen poison. As far as he can see, nothing seems out of place—that is, until his eyes landed on a lone figure observing the crowd with the same watchful gaze that he has.

He frowned slightly as he tried to rack his brains and put a name to the face. It is obvious that she isn't just a regular club goer with how she detached herself from the crowd, leaning instead on a far wall as she sipped her drink. For the untrained eye, she looks nothing more than a bored girl dragged against her will to a night out in the city. But Johnny knew better. There is something in the careless, almost relaxed way she carried herself that told him she was feeling anything but. You can see in the angle of her shoulders and the curve of her back how on high alert she is--like a cat ready to pounce at the right time. 

That's when it finally clicked. Johnny had seen those sharp eyes before, albeit briefly and not really under good circumstances. It was a few years ago in Tokyo when NCT had the misfortune of crossing paths with Cypher during a business deal. Both groups were trying to pin their influence in the city, but it was ultimately them who took the stronghold after a rather dirty fight. 

She was the same girl who pulled the crazy psycho Jihoon from his stand down with Taeyong. 

Johnny's jaw ticked as he finally put two in two together. There is absolutely no good reason behind her presence here tonight. He quickly turned to one of the men manning the bar to leave everything to them before starting to weave his way towards the unwanted visitor. 

He was about three steps away from her table when she spoke, not even looking at him. 

"Don't waste your time, I'm not interested," her voice sounded flat and her eyes remained trained on the dance floor. Johnny's eyebrow cocked. He watched as she threw back the remaining liquid in her glass in a flourish. 

Chick doesn't recognize me, huh? 

A look of amusement took over his features momentarily. He grabbed for the whisky bottle on the table and poured himself a glass instead, a loaded smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

"Actually, I insist. I think you need company."

He saw her shoulders move as she gave an exasperated sigh. She still didn't spare him a glance though, probably thinking he will go away if she pretends he doesn't exist. 

"You with your boyfriend?" 

"Yes. Five of them," she said sarcastically. 

"Are all of them named Jihoon?" 

Her head whipped towards him so fast at the mention of the name. He watched as her eyes scoured him, probably trying to put a name on his face, too. A look of recognition finally made her eyes squint a bit. Johnny's smile widened, now tinged with threat.

"I don't think you're supposed to be here, baby," he said smoothly as he took a sip of his drink. She remained quiet, simply opting to hold his gaze. 

"Where is the devil you're working for?" 

More silence. 

"If you tell me, I might let your pretty face go without a scratch."

She finally snorted and rolled her eyes with derision. "You think you can lay a finger on me?" 

"You're in our turf."

"Turf rules are gone for now, thanks to the old man. I am not breaking any rules."

Johnny watched as she slowly gained her confidence back after the initial shock. As much as he hated it, he couldn't deny the unsettling feeling that settled on the back of his mind at her reasoning. Technically, if you consider the temporary suspension of the code, she is right. His fingers tightened just a little bit on the cold glass of drink he was holding as he watched her pick up her empty one, looking ready to go. 

"If you and your lover do anything, we'll make sure you pay," he said in a low tone, looking at the face before him. She barely reached his shoulders even with heels on and for a moment, he thought the dancing lights bouncing off her face showed her looking slightly confused, and then concerned. This is the first time he saw her this close, and from what he can tell, she is about the same age as him at most.

"You don't have any reason to hurt me since I'm not doing anything wrong. You don't seem to be the type to just throw fists at anyone, especially women," she drawled her words out in a mocking tone as she tried to move past him. Before she can leave though, Johnny reached out to grab her by the arm and spun her around. The force that he used to pull her in was enough for her to drop the glass she was holding on the floor, the sound of crystal breaking swallowed by the thundering music around them. 

Despite his towering figure and straight up threat, the woman kept her cool. Johnny has to admit, even he is impressed that she could easily meet his stare--the same stare that has made grown men melt into their knees in fear. If not for the set of her jaw, one would think she is entirely unaffected by their current standoff. 

Just then, a flicker of something else passed through her eyes. Her gaze quickly dropped to the hand holding her arm before looking back at him again. Johnny followed her gaze. Was she looking at his watch--

He was suddenly pulled by the collar, the action temporarily stopping his reflexes from kicking in. Now it was his turn to be pushed and moved to the side, his face mere inches from the face of the girl still grabbing him by the scruff.

Their eyes met and she gave him a quick smile. 

"Reserve your punishment for me later then."

That was the last thing she said before she pushed him back into the corridor behind him. She wasn't strong enough to send him to the ground but his surprise made him topple back a few steps. The girl quickly turned and slipped out of his sight as he tried to gain his balance. 

"Hey—!" 

Boom! 

Johnny was about to go out after her when a resounding explosion shook the main floor. This time, it was strong enough for him to be sent to the floor, his arm immediately shielding his eyes from the dust and smoke. Small pieces of cement and glass hit him due to the impact, but other than that, he was mostly kept safe in the recesses of the hallway where he is currently in.

It took him a few heartbeats to realize what happened. His ears were buzzing from the sound of the explosion and he had to keep his eyes closed to protect it from the cloud of smoke it caused. When he finally managed to get on his feet again, he hurried outside to see the extent of damage and stopped at the first area that caught his eyes. 

Pieces of gravel, dust, and broken metal were still sizzling with smoke and fire at the exact same spot where he was standing just a few seconds ago. 

"Taeyong! Taeyong—are you okay?!"

I grabbed the man by the shoulders and pushed him off me, panic rising in my throat. From the main hall, screams filled the air in thundering cacophony as people tried to rush out of the club. I couldn't care less about what's happening outside though, my focus set on the motionless figure on the floor with me.

"Shit—I need to get help—" I was about to sprint out of the corridor to get anyone, someone, when I felt a hand settle over my arm. I whipped my head to see him finally open his eyes before wincing. 

The man had disappeared into the gust of smoke the moment the explosion tore the room. I tried to scramble up and finally managed to find my feet again after Taeyong pulled me up. 

 "Hey, I'm good… We're cool," he finally managed to say as he sat up and leaned back on his arms. His eyes quickly scanned over me as he fumbled for the gun he dropped during the scramble. "Are you hurt? Do you need--" 

"No, no, I'm fine," I quickly reassured him. "Jihoon he—"

"Nevermind him, are you sure you're okay?" 

"Yes."

"Good, let's go. We need to check on the others," he said urgently, his hand pulling me into a run outside of our hiding place. When we finally burst through the main floor, we skidded into a halt as Johnny almost ran over us from the next corridor. I quickly checked how he looked, trying to see if he was hurt anywhere. 

"Jihoon, he—" 

"Cypher was here—" 

He and Taeyong both spoke at the same time. Realizing they both already know what happened, Johnny turned to look at me, a look of concern on his face. 

"Are you good?" 

"Yes. But I don't know about the others," I quickly said, my chest hurting from the smoke filling the room. I tried to ignore the bodies on the floor as I pulled on Taeyong's hand so we could get moving again. The three of us stepped over the damage as we tried to scout the area, desperately trying to look for the other members. 

"Taeyong!" 

We all whipped around the same time as Doyoung's stressed voice called out to us. Beside him was Jaehyun trying to hold up a limping Yuta. All men looked ragged, their once immaculate suits now dirty with dust. We quickly ran over to them, my hands reaching out to help Jaehyun hold Yuta up.

"How badly are you hurt?" I asked breathlessly as I tried to peer at his face.

"Like a buttcheek on a stick," he winced before nodding. "It's fine. Not bad enough to kill me."

"Where are the kids?" Taeyong asked in a stressed out tone as he looked around the mess around him, worry etched on his face. 

"They're fine. Jungwoo and Taeil are with them, they're already in the van," Jaehyun answered as he shrugged off the dusty blazer he was wearing.

"How many?" Johnny asked in a low tone.

"What exactly happened—" 

"About 14 dead from my first count," Doyoung answered. 

"Fuck."

"Is Yuta-hyung okay?" Mark looked up in concern as Taeyong entered the room we were in. The moment everyone reached the safety of the headquarters, the group broke off in a hurry to take care of pressing things. Doyoung and Taeil had to make some calls to sort out the mess in the club while Taeyong, Jaehyun, and Jungwoo had to escort Yuta to the base's small clinic to have his leg fixed. Meanwhile, Mark, Johnny, and I were requested to go into the room reserved for confidential meetings of the group. 

"Let's talk about it at home. The cops are coming soon," Taeyong said urgently, running a hand through his hair. "Doyoung, call some of our moles to go with the cops. Someone has to secure the drugs left here." The rest nodded before moving towards the exit, leaving the disaster behind.

*******

I consciously pressed my palm against my left knee as I noticed how much I was bouncing it out of stress. My eyes settled on Taeyong as I waited for him to speak. I could see from the hollows of his eyes the extent of his worry over what happened. 

"He's fine. He'll need some stitches and maybe a leg brace according to the doctor. He'll have to stay put for a while though."

Mark sighed, relief and frustration evident from the breath he released. The boy buried his face into his hands, the base of his palms pressing against his eyes. 

"If Haechan didn't bug any of us to go and move to the darts room, I think some of Dream would have been badly hurt, too. There was a bomb planted just below the pool table," he mumbled to himself. 

I looked at him in concern. Just the thought of having the kids hurt is already forming a lump in my throat. Beside him, Johnny reached out a hand to squeeze him by the shoulder. 

"It was Jihoon. I saw the woman he was always with before the bombs went off," Johnny said, his expression grim. Taeyong's jaw twitched and he finally allowed himself to sit before speaking. 

"Yes… We met him face to face, too," Johnny and Mark's eyes widened. I felt goosebumps slightly crawl up my arms. The last thing I want is for that encounter to be dissected and reviewed, but it is impossible to ignore this, especially not after what happened. 

"You—wait, what did he say?" 

"He wants to kill me," Taeyong flat out said. "He wants to steal our turf."

"And?"

"That's all."

My eyes snapped up to look at him in surprise. I am perfectly sure he heard the second reason the bastard said but he refused to meet my eyes. 

Johnny gave a frustrated sound and stood up to walk back and forth in front of us.

"I wasn't expecting anything less from the psycho. I just didn't expect it to happen so soon."

"I'm sorry," I croaked weakly from my spot. "I was supposed to be keeping an eye out for him but I think he found a way to dupe the system because I was getting the right signals. If I didn’t..."

Taeyong finally looked at me and shook his head slightly. "It’s not your fault. I think we all underestimated what he can do. What I think we should do now is to focus on what else we're about to face."

Mark looked up, worried frown still etched on his boyish features. 

"What do you mean?" 

Taeyong was silent for a bit. He closed his eyes before leaning back against his seat. 

"I think I pissed him off when I said I wasn't planning on competing for the spot."

All three of us fell silent. I didn't speak, but I knew what he was saying was right. I saw it straight from the Devil's eyes myself. 

"I don't get it." 

"Jihoon… is the type of bastard who does things for the joy of it. He is completely deranged. I'd say he's not even doing all of this because he wants to take over Seoul. He just wants to torture me—us. Being named the Don is just a secondary thing to that."

Johnny and Mark exchanged glances at his words. 

"When Taeyong said that he…doesn't have any plans to play his game, he didn't like it. He's the type of person who will raise hell if people refuse to participate on his schemes," I added, sending the room into an even heavier silence.

"So you mean… he can do worse if we just ignore him?" Mark asked, pointing out the glaring question the rest of us tried to ignore.

"He'll never stop until he gets what he wants...and what he wants is for us to play in the palm of his hands,” Taeyong said slowly.

"Fuck," Johnny cursed lowly. He turned to look at him, his expression intense. "We need to do something. We'll lose men if this continues. We need to kill the bastard first before he gets to us."

Taeyong's jaw twitched, his eyes drilling on the floor. 

"I know. That's why I called you here. I'm going to have to ask for your permission so I can officially compete for the position of the head."

His words made my stomach drop to the floor. I looked at him with wide eyes, even though deep inside I knew he was going to say this. 

"Taeyong, wait—are you sure?" I asked, my words tumbling over each other. 

"It's the only thing we can do…" he answered, refusing to meet my eyes. 

"But do you want this?" I pressed, my voice sounding desperate. He's doing it again—sacrificing himself for the sake of others. 

He finally moved his gaze to meet mine. "It's me that he wants."

You're not the only one he wants. 

My gaze silently answered him. 

I know… 

He answered silently back before looking away. 

Johnny observed our silent exchange from where he stood. Whether he understood the loaded stare down or not, I wouldn't know, but he broke the tension by putting a hand on Taeyong's shoulder and giving it a slight squeeze. 

"Just like what Taeil-hyung said… We'll support you. You won't be fighting this alone."

Mark nodded beside him which made their leader gave a thin smile back. "Thank you. Can you guys talk to the others about our decision? I don't really want to call everyone right now."

"We'll take care of it," Mark said. 

He then turned to look at me, his eyes loaded with an emotion I couldn't put my finger on. I hate this. I hate that he is doing this. 

"Now that is settled… can you send a message to the main family?" 

I didn't want to say yes, so I kept silent. He continued, regardless of my quiet disapproval. 

"Tell them the game is on."

--

Chapter 8: Ophelia

[worstloki]

please read the article 'How White Fandom is Colonizing "Character-Coding"' by Shafira Jordan and quit while you're ahead

Okay, so I read it and see the problem, and I’ll try to address all their points in order because I don’t wholly agree with the article. I know it’s a lot to read so I’ve put tldr; sections at the end of each :)

Misusing the Term Reinforces Negative Stereotypes for Marginalized People 

The article essentially argues that labeling characters which are villainous as POC-coded is bad because they’re not morally pure and doing so "reinforces the idea that people of color are naturally dangerous and not to be trusted.”

Which is fair as you don’t want all the representation to be of ‘bad’ characters, but I also don’t believe all representative characters have to be ‘good’ either as it would be equally racist to divide good/bad in such a way. Not that I would place Loki under ‘bad’ to begin with, but arguing that characters shouldn’t be labelled as POC-coded for reasons unrelated to what’s presented in the narrative or because they did bad things is :/ even if lack of good representation is a prevalent issue in current Western and influenced media. 

Ideally there should be a range of representative characters that fall into ‘good’, ‘bad’, and ‘anywhere in-between’ because variety and complexity in character types should, in theory, be treated as common practice (which can only happen with a multitude of representation!).

And a bit unrelated but... within the fictional context of Thor 1, all the Jotnar (sans Loki) are presented to the audience as ‘bad’ by default. They desperately want to get their Casket back to the point of attempting stealing it (from the ‘good’ characters), they fight the heroes and even when the gang and Thor (’good’ characters) are enjoying or going overboard with taking lives it’s inconsequential, Laufey wants to kill the opposing king (who just happens to be a ‘good’ character) and will resort to low-handed methods to do so, etc. The narrative itself is from the frame of reference of the ‘good’ and we only see warriors of Jotunheim though so we understand why it’s like this, because regardless of their race/experiences the narrative carries, even if it most definitely would be seen as racist from our real-life perspectives if the ‘monstrous’ race were presented by actual people of colour, even if it would make sense for the people on on different realms living in different environments to be different from each other, and realistic even for that to be the root of some conflict. 

tldr; not using a specific label to prevent negative presentations of the characters seems a bit strange to do when the coding would be based off the text, but with limited representation available I see why it would be done, even if I still believe minority-coding is free game to expand/interpret.

Improperly Labeling a Character as “POC-coded” Suggests the Experiences of All People of Color are the Same 

The article argues that labeling Loki as POC-coded “suggests that all people of color have the same experiences, when in reality, people of color come from different places, have different cultures, and have different traditions.” And while it’s true that the term doesn’t go into detail about which particular experiences (and these experiences can vary vastly due to diversity!) the appropriate measure would be to remove the umbrella term POC altogether as people of colour tend to also vary. But that’s also exactly why it’s an all-encompassing general term? It’s a way to denote anyone who isn’t “white” and has the associated cultural privilege that comes with the concept of white supremacy.  

And, obviously, in the fictional setting presented, the concept of white supremacy is not prodded at, but cultural supremacy is definitely one that makes recurring appearances, right next to the parts about Asgard being a realm built on imperialism with ongoing colonial practice. 

My take on this is that Loki’s narrative features a struggle with identity after finding out he’s of a different race and was being treated differently his entire life and being Jotun was presumably a part of the reasoning even if he didn’t know it. He’s basically treated as of less worth for inherently existing differently. I do believe that racism is a common-enough POC experience, but that while Loki was born with blue skin he passes/appears white which is why I don’t say that Loki is a POC, just that he has been coded/can be interpreted this way. 

There’s also the entire thing with Loki trying to fit in and prove he belongs by trying to fit the theory and be The Most Asgardian by committing genocide (which ultimately makes no difference as he’s still not the ‘acceptable’ version of Asgardian), and the denial/rejection of his birth culture in destructively lashing out towards them (which even Thor is confused by because Loki isn’t typically violent), and the fact his self worth plummets and he is passively suicidal upon finding out he’s Jotun (internalized racism? general drop in self-worth after finding out he’s adopted and has been lied to? Bit of both?), but what do I know, I’m sure none of those are, at their base, common experiences or relatable feelings for anyone or decent rep because we see such themes on-screen presented wonderfully in different lights all the time. 

tldr; every set of experiences could be different, some types of discrimination could overlap, if you limit an umbrella term to only very specific circumstances then it’s no longer an umbrella term.

Suggesting that White Characters are Meant to be Seen as People of Color Ignores the Actual Characters of Color that are Present in these Stories

I don’t agree with most of this section, but that may just be the way the arguments are put together, which I don’t blame the author for.

“ Implying that Loki is a person of color completely ignores Heimdall and Hogun, the only Black and Asian Asgardians who appear in the movie. ”

Characters such as Hogun and Heimdall which are played by actual people of colour have smaller roles in the films and any prejudice they could face for being POC in-universe isn’t made apparent, while Loki at the very least comes to the realization that something he couldn’t change (race, parentage,) was having him treated differently his whole life and had to come to terms with it. The Vanir/Aesir are also both treated similarly on-screen, and Heimdall having dark skin isn’t plot relevant, whereas Jotnar are treated as lesser consistently and are relevant through the movie (breaking into the vault, Thor and co. attack Jotunheim, Loki’s deal with Laufey, the attempted regicide (and the successful one XD), destroying jotunheim, Loki saying he’s not Thor’s brother,). 

I also see including characters as POC-coded as... more representation? In all canon-compliant interpretations of the characters Hogun being Vanir is always explicitly mentioned because it’s a fact that just is, up to the appearance and even the world-building of Vanaheim in some fanworks use particularly East Asian culture as inspiration. I have never come across a Marvel fandom Heimdall interpretation where he’s not Black... but because these characters are more minor/side-characters of course they get less attention! 

“ In Loki’s fandom, Heimdall’s name sometimes gets thrown in to suggest that it was he all along who was the real villain due to his “racism” against Loki and the rest of the Jotun. It is, of course, ironic to suggest that somehow the only Black Asgardian to appear in the movie can oppress the privileged white prince. “

I... don’t know where to start with this. But the example of theorizing given in the article wasn’t suggesting Heimdall was bad or trying to explain his actions in Thor 1 by saying he is Black... and just looking at a character’s actions shouldn’t be done less or more critically because of skin tone in my opinion. Heimdall may have been trying to do what was best and protect the realm but if the audience didn’t know that Loki was up to dodgy things then the coding would be switched around because he was trying to spy and committed treason and then tried to kill Loki. People... can hold feelings towards others... regardless of skin... and suspect them... for reasons other than skin... although I do still have questions about whether Heimdall knew Loki was Jotun or not. (Even if I personally don’t think it’d make a difference to how he’d treat Loki?)

Some Loki fans have also suggested that because Jotuns have blue skin that this alone makes him a person of color (even if the audience is only allowed to see Loki in his true Jotun form for mere seconds of screentime). This, again, shows a lack of understanding when it comes to race. It doesn’t matter what skin color the Jotuns have. 

Race can differentiate between physical and/or behavioural characteristics!! Not being blue all the time doesn’t make him any less Jotun!! He’s got internalized stuff to work through and is used to being Aesir!! At least 1 parent is Jotun so even if Loki was passing as Aesir he’s probably Jotun!! (I don’t know how magic space genetics work for sure but Loki being Jotun was an entire very important jump-starting point in Thor 1!!). It’s a fantasy text and typically things like having different coloured skin indicates a different race or is sometimes if a species has multiple then is just considered a skin colour. That’s how coding works!! The Jotnar are very specifically the only race we see in the movie with a skin-tone not within the ‘normal’ human range, which alienates them to the audience from the get-go!! They’re an “other” and on the opposite side to the ‘good’ characters.

Both Loki and his birth father, Laufey (Colm Feore), are played by white men, and it is impossible for a white man to successfully play a character of color. 

The specification of men here bothers me, but yes, you don’t get ‘white’ people to play characters of colour if it can be avoided. (And it can be avoided.)

This also connects with the previous point made that people of color come from various places. There is nothing specifically about the Jotun that could be traced to any specific person of color, and even if there were, there would be no way for white men to portray them without being disrespectful.

This is where arguments about the definition of coding and how specificity/generalizations and do/don’t come in. I know I’m subjective and lean towards the more rep the better, but while I agree ‘white’ people wouldn’t be able to respectfully play a POC I don’t think that rule should have to carry over into fantasy-based fiction. I know texts reflect on reality and reality can reflect within texts, but if contextually there is racial discrimination and there are similar ideas which resonate with the audience’s own experiences I’d say it’s coded well enough to allow that.

tldr; Thor 1′s narrative revolves mainly around Thor and Loki, of which race is kinda kinda a significant theme in Loki’s part of the story. Not so much explored with less-developed side characters such as Heimdall and Hogun, even though their actors are actual people of colour. 

How Much of this is Really Well-Intentioned?

In the fantasy space viking world Heimdall and Hogun don’t face any on-screen prejudice and their appearance is not mentioned (which is nice, for sure! good to have casual rep!) but adding on to the roles they play in the narrative the explicit fantasy-racism in the movie isn't aimed at Asian/Black characters, but towards the Humans -to a lesser extent- and the Jotnar, including Loki, who only just found out he comes under that bracket.

The article mentions how fandom space toxicity often “reaches the actors who portray the characters,“ which is true, and it’s shameful that people have to justify their roles or presences are harassed for the pettiest things like skin tone/cultural background, but I don’t see coding characters as removing the spotlight from interesting characters such as those which are actually POC, rather expressing a demand for more rep, since well-written complex characters which are diverse are often absent/minor enough in the media, and therefore can get easily brushed aside in both canon and fandom spaces.

tldr; It’s obviously not a replacement for actual representation, but, if a character is marginalized and can be interpreted as coded, even if they would only be considered so within the context of the textual landscape, I don’t see why spreading awareness through exploring the coding as a possibility for the character shouldn’t be done, even if the media is being presented by people who are ‘white’ or privileged or may not fall into the categories themselves, as long as it’s done respectfully to those it could explicitly represent.

[hopekiedokie]

Mall is Life | INTRO : She’s Broke, He’s Broke, We’re All Broke!

Summary: Your dad thinks it’s best for you to pay off the credit card that you just maxed out. Meaning, it’s time for you to finally get your very first job…at the mall. As a true blue spoiled daughter from a very rich family, what could possibly happen? Form a labour union and overthrow the oppressive government with 7 other underpaid and overworked guys??? Or maybe just form a bond with them and have the best time of your life?

Pairing: bts x reader

Genre: mall!au, lowkey a sitcom, fluff, eventual angst, and a whole lot of pure crack

Word count: 5.3k+

Notes: As I’m doing final rewrites for this, I overheard my co-teacher call one of our students a “crack” and I honestly have never related hard to a student. Anyways, transferring this from gdocs to tumblr took sooooo long. I literally aged 10 years. I didn’t think writing in this style would be such a pain so I really do hope you enjoy this! Keep safe and hang on while the world still seems like it’s on its way to destruction.

Posted on: 8th of Jan, 2021

— • masterlist | Character Guide | INTRO | next • —

Red

Red is all you see.

Your vision has been clouded by the colour red since the moment you stepped inside the mall.

Sale season is upon you and red tags are everywhere!

Buy one get one for a girlfriend sized “boyfriend t-shirt”, a free cookie if you get 7 drinks, 5% off on your next purchase from Kucci and… Gasp! 75% off for a light sabre handheld immersion blender???

Do you even cook or watch Star Trek or whatever it’s called? Heck no.

bUT IT’S MORE THAN HALF OFF and it looks cool so might as well get it.

Right?

You saunter off towards the sights of free or marked down signs to start making damages.

“Ehem.”

The sound of your best friend, Taehyung’s voice, freezes you in place and you feel like a kid caught in the act of stealing a candy.

Literally, you have both your hands in front of you with your mouth open and watering.

“Just what do you think you’re doing?” His hands are placed on his hips, like a slightly inconvenienced Karen.

“Oh, uh...I was just, you know!? About to admire the general splendour!”

He was like, ya right sweetie.

“Shut up. This isn’t a Jane Austen book.”

Well, one can dream.

And lowkey, you were kinda expecting him to not get the reference.

…or even understand what you just said.

Damn.

You really need to give Taehyung some credit.

He is after all, your best friend and that is an achievement in itself.

“Focus, y/n. FOCUS. We’re here on a mission, don’t get distracted.”

Ugh, right.

Reality hit you again like a ton of bricks.

“And as if you can afford anything! Unless, you’re in for some service water.”

You scoff hard.

Though he isn’t lying.

See, the thing is, your family is rich.

Like rich 𝑹𝑰𝑪𝑯.

Like “rent a whole stadium for your dad’s morning run” rich

You, alone, though?

ʰᵉ ʰᵉ ʰᵉ

“Sorry, you’re absolutely right. We’re here for one thing only and that is to find a job! We’re not leaving until we get one.”

And that’s what you did for the next two hours

Job hunting

You might be wondering, “If we're so rich then why are we looking for a job?”

Well kids, let me tell you a quick story.

Here’s what happened

A week ago, you had probably the most embarrassing yet most eye opening experience of your life.

You were shopping

(like duh do you have anything else to do?)

And your credit card got…

Wait for it…

…………….

🚫DECLINED🚫

◉.◉

Like, that can happen????

Next thing you know, you’re on the phone with your dad and he is MAD

You don’t even know why he is so pressed about it.

Okay, so you maxed out one of his seemingly endless supply of credit cards.

BIG DEAL.

It’s not like he lost a bunch of money.

Maybe to a normal person, yeah…

BUT to you guys?

Come on! He can earn that money back in like two days.

Besides, he always goes on saying that he'd willingly give everything for you, his one and only princess.

bUT NOoOOoo! He has to teach you to be rEsPoNsIbLe with money! You need to be a 𝒔𝒆𝒏𝒔𝒊𝒃𝒍𝒆 𝒑𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒐𝒏.

"What? You think I'm a money making machine here?"

Well, tbh he kinda is.

"You think money grows on trees?"

Well, technically, money is paper so...ya it kinda does.

"I don't slave around just so you could plunge yourself in all of your whims!"

Uh, actually.

You kinda do though if we refer back to your whole willingly-give-everything-to-you shtick.

So that wasn't real, huh?

ＡＬＬ ＭＥＮ ＤＯ ＩＳ ＬＩＥ.

smh

Taehyung, on the other hand...

Well, his mother’s old but rich sugar daddy just recently passed away and unfortunately all his money and prized possessions were inherited by his one and only beloved son.

All they got was a couple of stupid jewelry, which did allow them to pay for a new (less glamorous) apartment, but still

Eh.

What a complete disappointment.

11+ years of being a sugar baby, all for nothing.

So now it’s back to the slums for the both of them.

Sad reacs for a fallen warrior.

I’m talking about Tae’s mother, not the sugar daddy...

THOUGh rip for him. Uh,,,,

He’ll be missed? I guess???

(1 like of this post = 1 respect for him)

DW about his mother though. She doesn’t seem quite fazed by it.

“This is why if you find a rich old bastard, make sure he doesn’t have any kids. That or have an affair with their kid. Oh well, on to the next one.” She told you and Tae during the funeral.

It’s been three months since.

She’s currently working at a hair salon and also,,,,

Taehyung thinks she’s seeing someone again cause she’s been using her designated “𝑠𝑒𝑑𝑢𝑐𝑖𝑛𝑔” parfum.

WHICH you still don’t know if you should be impressed or be concerned about.

Nonetheless, you respect the hustle of this woman. ✊✊✊✊

Unfortunately, her efforts are still not enough to satisfy their expensive needs so that brings us to the present situation.

Actually, it couldn’t have been more perfect though!

You and your best friend coincidentally just happen to be in the same dilemma.

Kind of

Well, not really

Plus, it’s not really the most pleasant circumstance bUT STILL

The point is, you’re in this together and that’s enough for the both of you.

:’)

“Ugh, this totally blows.” Taehyung says as you both sit on one of the food court booths.

“Which one, us not getting any jobs yet or the fact that we’re hanging at the food court?”

“Get used to it, princess. Honestly, you'll find that the food here isn't as disgusting as you think they are." He says as he fishes for his phone in his man purse.

"Well, at this rate, I won't be able to get used to it since I sTILL haven't found a job. Why are the good stores so demanding? Like, an intensive classroom and in-store training only to have a possibility to get hired??? To think that I'm a loyal Louie Button customer!"

(A/n: This is actually a real procedure for Louis Vuitton, at least in my own experience. But I only applied and never went through with the training cause I figured that it just ain't for me.)

You continue ranting your little heart out about how you could sue these stores for unfair treatment.

Taehyung, though, has long tuned you out and has pointed his full attention to his phone.

This is turning out to be a lot more disastrous than what he anticipated.

So he needs to phone a friend in.

Orrrrr a couple.

He's getting desperate, okay??

The entire spring collection was practically screaming out to him when they entered Kucci.

He's a 𝓚𝓾𝓬𝓬𝓲 𝓫𝓸𝔂 through and through.

He hasn't missed a single Kucci season collection in years.

IN YEARS, PEOPLE!

He can feel his right eye twitch at this blasphemy.

"I'm telling you! These stores are absolutely ungrateful-hEY! Are you even listening??"

"No. I thought that was obvious the second I whipped my phone out."

( ͠° ͟ʖ ͡°)

Rude

He didn't even try to deny it.

"You know, I really don't need you to be mean to me right now."

"Sorry y/n but this…" He lifts his phone up, "is more important right now."

What could possibly be more important than your current problem??

If you don't leave today with any form of productivity, you just might have to sell the entirety of your closet.

And we all know that ain't happening.

"By 'that', you mean?"

His phone vibrates a couple of times, indicating that he just received a bunch of messages.

He instantly opens them, disregarding you once again.

I-

Seriously, thIS bOy!

"Hello???? I'm still here and we're still hideously unemployed!"

He looks up to you with a smile that seems a tad bit too eerie.

Okay, this is somewhat alarming ngl.

"I called in some reinforcements."

Reinforcements... Huh?

What's that supposed to mean?

You stare at him with scrunched brows and mouth slightly agape.

And as if on cue, a male voice rings from behind you.

"Tae! We're here!"

"Jimin! Seokjin hyung!"

Ohhhhhhh

*Looks at the camera*

Them.

♫︎DUN DUN DUN♫︎

For everyone's information, Taehyung grew up a hair away from the poverty line.

He was in his preteen years when their family found success through his mother's sugar daddy.

He didn't grow up rich whICH there's NOthing wrong WiTh THAT.

A person's financial status does not define them.

Taehyung's friends, however, already have a collective definition in your head.

One word

༼ つ ◕◡◕ ༽つ MESS™

♫︎DUN DUN DUN♫︎

A hot mess you are so not willing to become a part of.

Tae keeps them away from you because he knows that they are not the type of people you would associate yourself with.

Which is why you've never met any of them.

...Until today.

♫︎DUN DUN DUN♫︎

Guess being besties with a broke Taehyung means it only makes sense that you finally meet them.

♫︎dUN dUn- ok that's enough of that.

"We got the Code 17 message. I can't believe I'll ever get that from you. This is history, man! We need to celebrate!" Someone says accompanied by what sounds like someone wiping a window.

You look at Taehyung with a very displeased look.

May god and every higher being out there give you strength.

He doesn't even look the slightest bit bothered by what might be one of the boldest crossovers to ever happen.

Also, "Code 17"??? Wth?

"What's wrong? You never ask to meet at the food court… And who's this with--oh." A different, softer voice talks this time.

"You guys remember my bestie, right? Y/n? Well, I think it's time you guys finally meet."

From behind you, Seokjin and Jimin share a slightly wary yet excited look.

Jimin, being the natural people lover that he is, instantly thinks that he's about to have another best friend.

From what he's heard from Taehyung, you two are slightly alike, being a total softie.

So don't be surprised if a montage of things like the two of you going on picnics at the mall garden or watching the premiere of the next Disney movie plays in his head.

Seokjin, on the other hand, being the woman lover that he is, instantly thinks that he's about to score big time.

He's heard a lot about you from Tae but the only thing that stuck (and pretty much the only thing that matters) is that you are HELLA rich.

$ ℂ𝕙𝕒𝕔𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕓𝕒𝕓𝕪 $

So are we even surprised that what he imagines is him breezing through the luxury section of the mall, with his personal butlers in tow, and having everyone swoon at him?

“Y/n,” Taehyung gives you a pointed look as if telling you to be nice. “Meet Seokjin hyung and Jimin, two of my other best friends.”

Alright, you heard that these people work here at the mall.

So you’re gonna have to suck it up if it means being stuck with them for god knows how long.

You just hope they have some level of bearableness.

(Oh and some form of acceptable fashion taste too please, thank you very much!)

As much as you're not in the mood to smile, you still plaster on the sweetest one you can muster and turn around to face the two----

Oh

(o.O)

oh oh oh oh ho ho ho ho

Hello

hELLO indeed.

One of them has a white button up with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, black slim fit trousers, and a brown newsboy cap like a cherry on top.

He's also wearing a brown apron with a small name tag that says 𝓙𝓲𝓶𝓲𝓷.

The other guy's more casual with his baby pink t-shirt, french tucked into his black ripped skinny jeans.

Personally, you wouldn’t really call them amazing outfits…

bUT SWEET BABY JESUS ARE THEY DOING THINGS.

GREAT THINGS

(Tbh maybe it’s their handsome faces that do it for you)

"Hi, I'm Jimin! It's very nice to finally meet you."

He extends his hand and you take it in a heartbeat because my god that smile.

Wooooooooooo

Now, that's what greets you into heaven.

"Tae says a lot of good things about you and I think- oof."

Cute pink shirt guy (rudely) shoves him to the side.

Jimin almost topples to the ground and it makes you want to stand and check up on him.

The poor cutie.

For some reason, you feel like Taehyung and pink shirt guy get along well.

"AND I'M Seokjin!"

This time, Seokjin swiftly takes your hand without any warning which leaves you feeling flustered.

“Umm… Nice to meet you..?” You manage to politely croak out.  

He gives your hand a kiss and then drops you a sultry wink.  

Thank god you're sitting right now.  

You'd be a lying fool to say that that didn't make your knees weak.  

But ngl, that’s a face that definitely greets you into hell.  

Like, no offense to his handsome face but you are sure there’s something completely devious going on underneath.  

No one can change your mind on that.  

"OKAY! Enough introductions, we’ll have plenty of time for that later... Where are the others??”  

“Hoseok hyung said that he's with Jungkook and they're on their way to get Namjoon hyung." Jimin says as he fixes his hat that slightly slid off.  

"Well, they better hurry!"  

Taehyung DEFINITELY did not have any reasons to cut your introductions off.  

He just did not like how you are practically drooling over Jimin and Seokjin.  

He’s nOT JEALOUS OR ANYTHING  

It’s just...  

It’s not like you’ve never been close to any hot guys before.  

Uh hello???  

HE’S HOT  

And you’re with him 24/7

Wait…  

Do you even think he’s hot???  

Okay now that’s a thought he never considered before.  

Damn bro  

Now Tae’s having an existential crisis…  

anD hE’s dEfiniTEly NOT jEALous!!!  

ᕙ(⇀‸↼‶)ᕗ  

"WE'RE HERE!"  

All four of you direct your heads to the sound of a new voice and you start to think that Taehyung might actually be playing a joke on you.  

Come on!  

THREE 👏  MORE 👏  HOT 👏 GUYS  👏

???  

This can't be real.  

This is literal heaven!  

Gasp!  

Are.  

You.  

DEAD?!  

Maybe you're right about Jimin being what greets you into heaven!

It all makes sense.  

“Dude, we came as soon as we could. We even pulled Namjoon out of his rabbit hole.” The handsome one wearing a sports jersey says. 

“This better be important. I didn’t even get to ask permission to take a break! I’m supposed to be stocking utensils right now.” The handsome one wearing an atrocious outfit of a bright blue shirt and a much brighter yellow pants chimes in.  

The handsome one wearing loose fitting jeans, a plaid button up and a black t-shirt underneath just stayed at the sidelines not saying anything.  

Out of all of them, you think he’s the most stylish one.  

Your eyes meet while you are assessing his outfit but he instantly looks away.  

A noticeable blush blooms on his cheeks and you almost swoon.  

Awww he’s extra cute.  

“Yeah, cause organising cutlery is more important than a friend in a literal crisis.” Taehyung says in a sarcastic tone.  

“So what are we doing here?”  

“What is this ‘crisis’ you are referring to?”  

“Yo, who is she?”  

Namjoon, Jin, and handsome jersey boy all talk at the same time.  

Ugh you need a massage.  

Being surrounded by these broke handsome men is making you lightheaded.  

“This is Y/n. You know, my other best friend.”

“Oh, your money buddy.” Handsome jersey boy butts in.   

Uh EXCUSE YOU, WHAT’S THAT SUPPOSED TO MEAN?  

You scoff hard and loud.  

Taehyung clears his throat and you thought he was going to make a comment defending you or something.  

Oh honey, you are wrong.  

Because for the nth time today, he just brushes you off.  

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever. Anyways, Guys, meet Y/n. Y/n, this is Hoseok hyung, Namjoon hyung, and Jungkook.”  

You didn't think it'd be possible but for the first time ever, you so badly want to rip someone's hair out.  

And not just someone, it's Taehyung.  

Normally, a sassy, moody, rude boy Taehyung doesn’t affect you at all.  

But then again, his negative vibes were never really directed to you.  

And given the current circumstance, you’re also not in the best mood as well.  

So you aren't as inviting as you usually are when you shook hands with the three boys.  

Somehow, even their overflowing handsomeness did not do anything for you now.  

Your presence, however, did something to the three boys.  

AND I MEAN A LOT.  

Confused, attracted, intimidated, confused, in awe, slightly scared, nervous, confused, hungry…  

What? Hoseok hasn’t had lunch and coincidentally, he started feeling his tummy rumble when he looked at you.  

…..  

Fun fact: Hoseok is DEFINITELY NOT A CANNIBAL NOR HE EVER PLANS ON BEING ONE.  

If ever you were thinking...  

“Okay, so here’s the sitch.” Tae starts to explain your situation and everyone listens to him intently.  

Little did you all know, the final member of the friend group just arrived at the food court and is now walking towards where you all are.  

It wasn’t difficult to spot your group with Namjoon’s obnoxiously brightly coloured towering self and the few girls hanging around.  

Probably Jimin’s fanclub.  

“And so, here we are!” Tae finishes, keeping everyone updated.  

"Wow, so you two are looking for an actual job? Like, here? At the mall??" A very baffled Seokjin asks.  

Tae rolls his eyes.  

"Yes. Is that really hard to believe?"  

"Actually, yes. It is."  

Another male voice is heard coming from someplace.  

“Yoongi hyung!”  

Oh great! Another one.  

Surely, this guy’s not that interesting.  

I mean, what are the fricking odds that he’s also an immaculate being??  

You turn around and your mouth drops to the floor.  

No no no no no.  

No way!  

Another freaking gOOD LOOKING GUY HAS WALKED UP TO YOUR GROUP.  

Okay, this is getting unbelievable now.  

Is this the real life? Is this just fantasy?  

Like, where and how on earth did Taehyung manage to get and round up SIX insanely good looking guys??  

What is this? Are you on The Bachelorette??

Wait no   

It's like Oprah!  

And instead of cars, she's giving away handsome men

You get a hot Asian man, you get a hot Asian man, you all get a hot Asian man!  

OR MAYBE  

Are you on MTV Punk'd?????  

Statistically speaking, a hot guy can have two or maybe three equally hot best friends

BUT SIX???   

ARE YOU KIDDING?  

Is Taehyung like Thanos? Collecting the six infinity stones?  

Thanos? lol.  

If anything, he's more like Henry VIII with his six wives.  

“So you guys didn’t even wait for me, huh?”

Yoongi, oh so casually, just takes a seat beside you   

Without even giving you a single glance or whatnot.  

“I didn’t know you'd be here at the mall today?”  

“Yeah, what are you doing here?”  

Yoongi raises an eyebrow. “It’s a free country, I can be here whenever I want to be.”  

Well, can’t argue with that logic.  

The mall is practically your second home at this point.  

“... Also… uTunes is hiring and uh… I’m applying...”  

You don’t understand why but everyone else looks either shocked or annoyed at Yoongi’s announcement... 

Are you missing something here?  

“Man, you need to give it up! That place can suck it.”  

Yoongi gives Seokjin one of the scariest glare you’ve ever seen.  

It could rival against your dad’s famous death glares that he gives to his incompetent subordinates.  

Namjoon shakes his head disapprovingly, “You’re applying there again?? I can’t believe it.”  

Yes, again.  

This is going to be the seventh time he’s applying at uTunes Records, the most popular music shop there is.  

So many people flock to it even though we’re already in the digital age.  

But he doesn’t question it.  

All he cares about is getting a job there because the employees get to play their own music in the store.  

Do you know how much of a popularity boost that is?  

A CRAP TON.  

On top of that, one of the employees gets a chance to get signed by a record label every year.  

And if you're not awarded by that chance, you can still meet agents and get signed through their many parties.  

Because of that, so many people also apply for a job there.  

But they unfortunately have such high standards which is why even after three years, he still hasn’t passed their vibe check.

"Listen, seven's a lucky number. I have great feelings about this one. Besides, I've built up a strong résumé. Winning one of uTunes' own rookie dj contests must mean something, right? They can't not take me!"   

Wow.  

You've only known Yoongi for a solid three minutes, but you can already tell that he's quite passionate about this.  

"Hyung, all we're saying is that maybe you should consider doing something else? You could do so much more than run after that store." Jimin says and pats Yoongi's hand a couple of times.  

"All of you perfectly know getting a job there could quite possibly set my music career!"  

"Is that really it? Or is it because of a certain Daphne??" Seokjin teases him.  

The rest just mutters an "ooh" or an "aah".  

You seem to have been turned into an accessory.  

You so cannot relate to anything they've talked about since Yoongi came. 

It's like you're at one of your dad's social gatherings and all you can do is smile and nod.  

"ANYWAY," Yoongi interjects in their teasing. "So Tae, you're also looking for a job?"  

Jeez FINALLY.  

Something you can talk about that involves you.  

It felt like you were just back home watching some random show that doesn't require your input.  

Taehyung gives an overly dramatic heavy sigh.  

"Unfortunately, yes. Y/n and I both need one badly. But all the stores had been rejecting us left and right. Like, the audacity!" Taehyung rants all over again.  

Jimin, listens to him intently as if he hasn't heard all of this before.  

Seokjin seems to have been entertaining the surrounding ladies for a while now.

[by giving some ( ˘ ³˘)♥︎ and some (•̀ᴗ-)☞  ]  

Across the table, Namjoon complains to Hoseok about getting in trouble with his boss.  

Jungkook, well, he's just staring at the beautiful pizza this kid next to you guys is eating. (Someone's hungry too, okay?) 

While Yoongi just openly stares at you.  

Welp.  

What the frick are you supposed to do now?

Is Taehyung or anyone going to properly introduce you two?   

No???  

Okay fine.  

Seems like you're gonna have to get used to doing things on your own.  

You smile at him and timidly hold your hand out.  

"Uh hi. I'm Y/n. I don't know if Tae's ever mentioned me to you before but--"  

"Oh, trust me. He's mentioned you plenty. He actually never shuts up about you."  

ʰᵉʰ  

Ok  

You don't really know if he was stating that as a fact or if he's trying to be mean…  

"Oh ha ha… That must be really annoying then."  

"Yeah, it is actually."  

Your small polite chuckle died down your throat.  

Wow and you thought Taehyung can be rude.  

hE'S STILL JUST STARING.  

"Uh…" You finally lowered your hand that he obviously isn't going to shake.  

That is definitely going in your top 10 most embarrassing moments ever.  

God, can someone get you away from this guy?  

What's his problem?  

"SO, can any one of you help us? Like, any tips or something?" Tae concludes his really long and repetitive rant.  

Everyone's eyes FINALLY focuses on Tae again.  

Seokjin snorts loudly.  

Eww.  

He opens his mouth to say something but Tae immediately holds his hand up to stop him.  

"Anyone except you hyung. I don't think you're classified."  

Everyone laughs to that and again,  

ARE YOU MISSING OUT ON SOMETHING HERE?  

Seokjin raises one finger like he's trying to make a point. "If anyone is classified to give tips on how to get accepted, it's me!"  

"Yeah, just not on how to last on one." Namjoon loudly whispers to Tae.  

"HEY I HEARD THAT!"  

Ohhh….  

So,  

Does he constantly get fired from a job?  

Well, that's just sad.  

Hopefully you don't end up like him.  

😳  

"Actually," Hoseok starts, "how do you end up landing on so many jobs? Like, don't they know your reputation?"  

And that's your cue to finally insert yourself in the conversation.  

"Uh, what reputation?"  

"Sweetheart, you don't really want to know! It's not that big of a deal." Seokjin quickly steers you away from the topic but the other guys didn't allow it to happen.  

"Oh, you know. Just that, he's known to be the "job eater" here. Cause he pretty much eats a job and moves on from it in a flash." Namjoon graciously fills you in.  

So you were right.  

That's kind of impressive though…  

But a huge waste.  

"Still! It makes me very much qualified to give the unemployed a tip!"  

"Save it hyung, you might need it for your next job once you get fired from Uncle Aang's."  

Seokjin gives everyone a sheepish smile.  

What's that about?  

It almost looks as if he…  

"YOU GOT FIRED ALREADY?!"  

"Oh you bet I did."  

To be fair, how could he not stop himself from eating the free samples? Those pretzels are literal drugs.  

"You just got that job four days ago. I can't believe it!"  

"I can believe it." Yoongi says out loud.  

Can't he say anything nice?  

"Whatever! Point is, these stores still hire me no matter what."  

"You know what, that is a good point." Taehyung mutters, slowly turning convinced by Seokjin.  

Namjoon groans. "Are you for real Tae? If you want some job advice, maybe ask one from us who has only had one permanent job all throughout."  

"Guys, let's give Seokjin hyung a chance!" Jimin, ever the sweet positive boy, suggests.

"Of course you would say that."    

Not wanting to fade into nothingness, you insert yourself again in the conversation.  

"I want to hear what he has to say."  

Once those words left your mouth, you instantly regret it.  

A.) Seokjin gives you another wink and gives you a flying kiss that has you weak in the knees again- I MEAN WHAT. I SAID NOTHING.  

And B.) Yoongi is clearly not a fan of you sharing your opinions with the group.    

Despite the obvious protests of Namjoon, Seokjin still gives his number one "professional" advice  

And that is to have a perfectly 𝒉𝒊𝒈𝒉 𝒒𝒖𝒂𝒍𝒊𝒕𝒚 résumé.  

"A high quality résumé? YOU? What the fuck are you talking about?" Yoongi says, slightly amused and slightly tired of the older guy's shenanigans.  

"Don't believe me? Fine. But I'm telling you, it's all here on paper!" Seokjin takes out a folder from his backpack and waves it around.  

Namjoon immediately snatches it from him  

"5 pages long?? Are you for real?”  

Seokjin hums and watches smugly with a cocky grin as the guys read through his résumé.  

“Hang on, since when did you do balloon modelling?”  

"I don't."  

Hoseok gasps. "But bro, isn't that lying?"  

"Yeah, duh! How else are these people gonna hire you? You have to sell them what they're looking for."  

"What if they ask you to use these skills that you clearly don't have?"  

"Then you're just gonna have to fake it till you make it, baby!"  

Huh  

No wonder he doesn't last long on a single job.  

"And how's that working out for you?" Yoongi presses on.  

"Well at least I get hired, Mr. 7th Time's the Charm!"  

Yoongi is like ᶠⁱᵗᵉ ᵐᵉ ⁱ ʷᵒⁿ'ᵗ ʰᵉˢⁱᵗᵃᵗᵉ ᵇⁱᵗᶜʰ (ง'̀-'́)ง  

"That's not really the point of having a job, but I guess, whatever floats your boat, dude!" Hoseok finally sides with Seokjin.  

"So everyone is looking for a job then?" Taehyung realizes, "this is so cool if all of us get hired! We'll all face the real world together."  

"All of us except Jungkook though."  

Who?  

Oh that extra cute shy boy.  

You forgot he's here.  

Boy really hasn't said a word at all.  

"Did ya hear that? All of us are getting jobs!"

"You should get one too!"   

"That would be so cool!"  

"So what do you say? What are your plans Kook?"  

"Guys, don't pressure the kid!"  

The guys talk simultaneously, ultimately kind of pressuring Jungkook to say something before he even thinks about it.  

The table falls silent and everyone eyes Jungkook.  

The guys are like ( ･ิ ͜ʖ ･ิ) and ( ͠° ͟ʖ ͡°)  

Jungkook is like (ʘ ͟ʖ ʘ)  

Then the guys are like (≖ ͜ʖ≖)  

So jungkook is like (¬‿¬ )  

In the end, they are all like 

(☞°ヮ°)☞ ☜(°ヮ°☜)  

And through it all, you are just ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ  

What the heck is going on?  

"Yeah, why not?" Jungkook simply concludes and the guys make various celebrating noises.  

Gasp!  

He can talk???  

"Okay, everyone calm down! Let's wait until after everyone gets hired before we celebrate." Namjoon scolds everyone.  

"Well that might take a while considering Y/n and I can't find one!"  

Namjoon places a comforting hand on Tae's shoulder. "Oh relax, there's like ten thousand stores in the mall!"  

"Actually, there are only 613 stores in the entire mall." Hoseok points out a matter of factly.  

You all look at him dumbfoundedly.  

Aaaand he just stares back at all of you.  

Is this some kind of trivia that you need to know if you work around here?  

Are you gonna have to memorise a lot of facts about the mall???  

Oh, you don't like that.  

Seokjin was the first one to react.  

"Dude?? What the hell?!"  

"I got bored once while I was on a break and counted."

Huh.  

Makes sense.  

Yeah, sure.  

Why not?  

Why wouldn't you just go and count the total number of stores out of boredom???  

…  

THAT WAS A SARCASTIC REMARK IF YOU DIDN'T GET IT.  

"Even if there are 600 stores here, there are only like, 20 good stores that exist!" Tae remarks   

You want to say you can't agree more but you stop yourself because you don't think you can handle another cold stare from Yoongi.  

"Are you perhaps pertaining to the high end stores?" Namjoon muses.  

"Yeah. What else?"  

Jimin's eyes widen in shock. "Hold on. So you two have only been looking at that small section of the entire mall?"  

"Yeah. Why?"  

Yoongi chuckles condescendingly.  

"Bros, you know that saying… 'Beggars can't be choosers'?" Hoseok tries to enlighten you two.  

You and Tae look at each other.  

What an epiphany.  

A very disgusting yet important epiphany.  

"Are you… Are you guys saying that… We need to find a job… Outside of that section??"  

They all nod.  

Ughhhhhhh  

You and Tae make an annoyed sound.  

"Welcome to the real world, peasants!" Seokjin warmly tells you.  

Could things get any worse?  

"Hey, at least we'll all be here together!"  

Ha ha 

Great . Awesome. Wow.

"Well, on that note, I really need to get back to work. Lady and gentlemen, may the odds be ever in your favour. Good luck!"  

Namjoon stands and walks away.  

One by one, the other working guys went back to work as well, leaving you unemployed slackers.  

Hey they didn't even give any actual help!  

Wasn't that the reason why Tae called for a… What did they call it?  

Code something something.  

Oh whatever!  

Anyways,  

So to summarize things  

You might end up working at an awful low end store.  

And you're unwillingly stuck with the wrong set of people.  

One of them is a total flirt and an actual pain to society.  

Another one might possibly hate you for unknown reasons.   

This tall dude seems to be really uptight.  

Then there's this guy that seems really weird.

The other one, well… He's cute and doesn't really have any negative points yet BUT you're sure something's wrong with him.   

And the last one literally said one thing during the entire time!  

Oh, you've got a really really long way before you can pay your dad.  

Good luck to you, indeed.   

[shinybananapastanickel]

Falling

Pairing: Obi-Wan Kenobi x Reader 

Warnings: None, just a big old fluff

 A/N: Hey all, this is my first real gander at writing a one shot and i hope you all like it. I just had the need to write something for Obi-Wan because the absolute love I have for this man is astronomical. I hope you all enjoy and please feed back is welcome. :) 

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IT had been a long month as you had finally finished the re-con mission you had been assigned to. The information was important and though you would never say no, it was only promised to be a few days. Now as your feet hit the landing pad, you started your hurried mission to your quarters. Your mission partner had seen your state of exhaustion and decided to take reporting to the council in their hands. You could have not been more grateful, offering an “I owe you one” before speeding off. No doubt your absence from the council debrief would get you a visit from Obi-Wan as soon as it was dismissed so you made it your goal to make it to your quarters quickly so you could indulge in a long hot shower.

Once you reached your quarters, you realized how exhausted you did look, your hair awry and the bags under your eyes seemed to have accumulated some new friends. With determination, you took one last look in the mirror and you stomped towards the shower. You reveled in the feeling of cleanliness as you milked the time you had in the steaming water and washed away the stress and grime from the mission. As soon as you had stepped out you could already tell of Obi-Wan’s presence coming down the hallway towards your door. You speedily got dressed and presentable as he entered your quarters already knowing the password after the many nights spent with each other seeking comfort.

You stopped dead in your tracks as you took him in. All auburn hair, pristine jedi robes, and fanciful boots. But what took your breath away every time was his gentle smile of fondness and his eyes as they softened at the sight of you.

“Obi-Wan.” You breathed as you walked toward him and wrapped him in a tight, long hug.

He immediately reciprocated, arms enveloping you in the warmth that was Obi-Wan. Your nostrils were invaded by the welcome scent of warm fall evenings and old books with a hint of something cinnamon.

“Hello, Dearest.” He mumbles into the crown of your head as he left a lingering kiss there.

You instantly relaxed after having been on guard for a month not being able to trust hardly anyone. It was good to see him, feel him as you knew for sure he wasn’t a figment of imagination or of comfort your brain thought up in your dreams to keep you going.

“I missed you” you mumble, faced squished into the expanse of his clothed chest, taking in the sound of his heartbeat as it lingered right next to the right of your ear.

He squeezed you a bit more into the hug as an affirming sign of ‘I missed you too’ as he pulled back to take your form in once more.

“As did I” he replied with relief coating his eyes and dripping off his force signature in waves reaching towards yours out of habit.

There was silence for a bit as you both took each other in after having not seen the other for a little more than a month for he had a mission of his own he was assigned to right before you had left. There was something in the air though, something he could sense off of your figure. There was of course the usual turmoil that plagued you after a long mission that he would soothe to sleep when the night deepened. But there was a query you had had on your mind. Something that tried to fight its way into your force signature, but you wouldn’t let it.

“Are you alright darling?”

It was a question of concern and care that fumbled from his mouth in graceful waves until it bled onto his face as his eyebrows took a dip in concern and his lips took a dive just as the ends. He led you to your balcony that was your deep talking space you designated for you and him on evenings when you had too much on your mind and enough time to discuss everything and nothing. The Coruscant Sun was just setting donning the both of you in a warm sunset orange as well as the common purple and blue that came along with it. With this question you looked at your jedi in contemplation. Your relationship had always been built upon unspoken words as the code you and he lived and breathed always stood in the way. You always respected him too much to say anything, afraid to break the peace that you two both had. Afraid to lose him, so you stayed silent.

Tonight, however there was something in the air—No the force that made you want to speak up. Something that pushed you to open up after years of growing tension and never hearing what you already knew.

“I can tell you anything. Right, obi?”

Your question filled the air with caution but only made the lines on his forehead grow deeper in concern. You wavered for a moment but a warmth that flowed through you grounded you as the force hummed within you, a sign of “its time.”

“Of course.”

He said maybe all too quickly, but it wasn’t a practiced answer, it was genuine and a knee jerk reaction. After the many late nights, you had both spent in each other’s company after Qui-Gon had passed and even continuing when the war weighed a little too heavily on your shoulders, there was a comfort found within each other you couldn’t find anywhere else.

Contemplation plagued your answer as you looked at the skyline of coruscant from your balcony.

“I can’t help but feel like a bad Jedi, a bad person.”

There was an incredulous look that flashed onto his face as if he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. You could feel the confusion roll off of him, but he didn’t speak, his eyes telling you to continue.

“Jedi are supposed to be calm and collected with a grasp on their emotions. They are supposed to feel and understand but also move on and not let them control them and trust in the force. Well I seem to have gotten a bit stuck. Stuck on emotions and feelings and no matter what I have tried I can’t seem to get passed them. I understand sadness, happiness, anger, frustration, jealousy, and so on but I can’t seem to figure out about lo…..”

You cut yourself off with a feeling of uncertainty as you looked away from the skyline and into his eyes. There was a cloud of thoughts it seemed, as he looked at you with those thoughts running rampant, looking for a conclusion or how the rest of your statement might go. You could feel him calculating a response but also some surprise. There was something in the force that begged you to continue and though you tried to keep it in something in you let it all out as the words fumbled off of your tongue and into the particles of air in the space shared between the two of you.

“There is something that you can’t quite place when it comes to love. It’s when you start falling. A kind love, a GOOD love happens even when you don’t realize it. And that’s the best circumstance to be in. I can’t pinpoint when I started loving you, but I now know that that isn’t such a bad thing.”

You close your eyes as you pause with trepidation but continue.

“I know we have been taught for all of our lives that letting emotions plague and control us is the way to the dark side, but I can’t help but doubt that. There is something in the way I feel about you that leads me on a straighter path, it’s so pure and light that even the force pushes me to tell you. To confess whatever this is between us is real and its right.”

You look him in the eyes once more and see nothing but love and adoration.

“I love you Obi-Wan. I cannot tell you when or how it happened. I can tell you however, it is the one thing that gets me up in the morning and makes me want to sleep at night just so that I can see you again the next day. It’s the one stable thing within these crazy times and it keeps me sane. It keeps me grounded and fighting because I know that if I continue on, I get to see you, be with you, hold your hand, and speak with you. I don’t think anything like that could be as bad as losing you without telling you….. Now if you want to never speak about this again that’s fine but---mmph!!”

 Your rambling is cut off with the collision of Obi-Wan’s lips upon yours as he cradles your face in his hands. Following this is the collision between your force signatures as everything came to light. Within that kiss came every memory and every moment Obi-Wan had looked at you. On those hard nights, those evenings of discussion, the moments in battle where he saw you fight fiercely, and the seconds after in which you would collapse. You saw yourself smile as him in more than you could count. You saw yourself in tears, with a serene face, with one of love only meant for him. You could tell he was seeing the same thing reversed as your memories came pouring into the bond you had unknowingly created years ago.

As you pulled apart you both took each other in, in a new light. Breathing hard as your minds and hearts raced at full capacity yet with nothing to say. Then he broke the silence.

“I love you too.”

It was a statement that was so simple and so understood that it wasn’t necessarily needed but it was nice to hear. A smile infected your face from ear to ear as you stared as him with so many questions and concerns but at the same time you felt peace. The force was still and warm as it played match maker, knowing that it was the thing behind all of this made you even happier for the council couldn’t, wouldn’t say no to this. Your smile was mirrored on his face as you knew he came to the same conclusions. He then took your hand and led you back inside, to hug you, to cuddle you, to kiss you, to love you. You knew as soon as you stepped through that threshold, that door it was not only a physical step but a metaphorical one. It was the first step into the life that you and Obi-Wan would be closer than ever, attached at the hip. Though it is not the first step with him in your life, it’s the first step of your lives together as you both continue falling.

[dokoni-mo]

Far Away, Together || Darth Vader x Reader (Chapter 3)

(A/N: hello all yet again! welcome back to my little series here on this little cite!! :) I am so glad that y’all have been enjoying my series thus far. I have had a blast writing it and seeing y’all’s reactions to it. As always, please feel free to ask to be on the taglist for this, or just ask questions about the series in general! I love talking with yall :))) links for the previous chapters have been provided below. This is where the series is really gonna start picking up, so stay tuned!!! also, do I see the smut chapter on the horizon? I believe I do...) 

Chapter One: [x]

Chapter Two: [x]

Chapter Four: [x]

WARNINGS: slight angst, a bit of crying, mentions of death (nothing too serious), cursing, otherwise none!! 

Key: (F/N) = first name, (L/N) = last name 

Word Count: ~4600

Peace and tranquility were two old friends that had not visited in a long time. Yet, they finally came for one today. 

After cleaning yourself off that morning and hastily getting yourself ready, you had made your way over to the site of our new workstation: Lord Vader’s personal hangar, primarily used for entering and exiting the Super Star Destroyer on his TIE. 

The walk to your new station was everything but pleasant. Everyone had seemed to know exactly what you were up to. This is partially due to the fact that you were now the talk-of-the-town amongst your peers. Some new-face baby coming here and getting one of the highest positions imaginable so damn quickly? Unheard of. Getting picked out personally by the Dark Lord himself? Impossible. Unimaginable. How could someone like (L/N) manage to pull off the impossible? 

This was also partially due to the direction you were headed. Anyone walking this direction was always eyed by those around them, if they didn’t happen to look exactly like some odd mouse droid. Lord Vader’s hangar was located dangerously close to his personal quarters. Everyone knew that it was the number one unwritten rule of working on this empirical vessel: Do NOT enter Lord Vader’s personal quarters under any circumstance. Unless you wanted to be dead within a matter of mere seconds, do NOT enter that room. Everyone had heard the stories of those who had tried. A stormtrooper who came out with his neck snapped, a woman who was impaled with his lightsaber, each one more terrifying than the last. So, as your polished, black boots clacked right in that direction, it was only natural that you got some stares and silent prayers for your safety. 

You thanked them silently and unconsciously, but you knew exactly what you were doing.

Following the directions that the old officer gave you, you eventually made your ways over to the new doors of the new hangar. The doors were almost exactly like him. Tall, dark, cold, unforgiving, to name a few characteristics. As you stood before them, you felt an odd feeling of nervousness in the bottom of your diaphragm, your fingers trembling all so slightly. 

If I ever piss him off, you thought to yourself, there is no one around to hear me scream.

But who would care? 

Who would dare challenge the Dark Lord himself? 

No one. No one at all. So, don’t screw this up, (F/N). 

Without turning your head, you let your eyes fall to the keypad adjacent to the door, it's buttons emanating a soft glow. Reaching out a hand, you punched in the digits that the old man gave you to allow you access into the hangar. You were surprised that the code actually worked, despite you knowing that it would. In the back of your head, you had still thought that maybe that old officer was somehow toying with you. That door opening was confirmation that this was no sick joke. 

Stepping into that hangar almost felt like stepping right into the jaws of some beast. The hangar looked almost exactly like your last one, only smaller. However, you instantly noticed that it was much quieter than the one you had started with. Much emptier, too. The only thing within the whole hangar was one workbench full of tools, a few crates of unknown contents, one mechanic who’s heartbeat was thumping a mile a minute, and one destroyed TIE Advanced x1. 

Despite the atmosphere of unease, you smiled brightly at your surroundings.

It was so quiet. Tranquil, even. 

You were so happy to finally be able to work in peace.

As your first action as Darth Vader’s personal mechanic, you quickly ripped off your uniform jacket and threw it on the ground, giving it a kick and a stomp. You hated that thing. And, Lord Vader never seemed to mind you breaking your dress code. So, you decided that your new uniform was your pants, boots, goggles, and tank top.

Eat shit, Empire. 

Your second action was to immediately get to work.

~~~

The silence was much more deafening than you had originally thought. 

Yes, it was nice not having to listen to the annoying chatter of the other workers in your prior hangar, but this was something else. The silence had let you slip into your own thoughts far too often, much the opposite to your liking. Thinking let your mind wander, and you had a tendency to think about impossible scenarios. Going back home, seeing your family again, finding a new job, to name a few. 

The diagnostic had returned nothing of great importance, thank the stars. Just some alerts of wires being fried. Nothing that you couldn’t handle.

Right now, sweat was leaving a heavy sheen on your forehead, and your arms and legs were screaming for some sort of rest. You were currently trying to make some progress to the destroyed wing of the craft, a way to take a break from trying to turn the damn computer back online. And, this wing was giving you no sort of break. Of course it wouldn’t, (F/N). Nothing is ever easy anymore.

You currently had the biggest wrench you had on your workbench wrapped tightly in your grasp, to the point where it made your knuckles white and your palms burn. Your nose and eyes were scrunched, your teeth bore for all to see as you tensed your shoulders and pulled the tool towards you with all your might. You needed this bolt off for you to gain access to the ligaments of the wing that held it onto the TIE. You had tried everything else to get it off (burning it off, freezing it off, and even praying to your maker while giving the ship a swift kick in the ass), but nothing had seemed to work. You were only left with one last tactic: hoping your brute strength was enough to pry off the stubborn piece of shit. 

Tears had started to brim in your eyes from the stress of your pulling. Your arms were so tired, and your legs were equally as such. Relaxing your muscles suddenly, you loosened  your grip on the wrench, finally allowing yourself to exhale. Panting in silence for a moment, you turned your hands over to inspect them. They were much redder than normal, and the joints in your fingers ached like hell.

Looking down at your hands in silence, you were overcome with an emotion you had no way of describing.

Why were you here? Why did you even accept this job in the first place? Things were so much simpler when the Empire hadn’t come to your home planet, when it was just you, mom, and dad. You could have run. You could have gone with them off-world, but you didn’t believe them. You didn’t believe that the Empire would totally destroy your home. You didn’t believe that the Empire would force you into working for them just so that you could have some sense of protection. You didn’t believe that if you had stepped into their hands, you would never see your home or parents again. 

Liars, you had thought back then, mom and dad do not see the truth. 

Oh, how wrong you were. 

If you could turn back time right then and right there, you would punch your past self in the face for being so fucking blind. 

You didn’t notice that you were crying until you felt something warm and wet drop against your palm. Focusing your attention back, you stared deeply at the small puddle on your palm. Letting your mind brew a few moments longer, you frowned deeply as you closed your eyes and bunched your hands into fists. You leaned against the surface of the TIE Advanced, covering your face from the outside world. 

Maker above, please, grant me the power to turn back the hands of time. Even for just one day. 

Your legs finally giving out, you slowly slid down the surface of the ship until you were crouched on the cold, shiny floor, your tears now only a slight trickle. Forgetting exactly where you were, why you were there, and who exactly was your boss, you sniffled as you allowed yourself to lay on the ground, your legs and arms sighing in relief.

Staring up at the ceiling above you, you had noticed that there was a small window garnishing the roof of the hangar. This had caused you to let out a small chuckle past your tears. Something added to this damn ship purely for aesthetics? You must be going crazy. 

Looking at the window, you let your eyes be transfixed on the view that the tiny opening provided. The stars were just barely visible from your point of view, like miniscule flecks of dust. A fleeting moment of relaxation overtaking you, a thought quickly made its way across your brain. 

I need to get back to work. 

You made no attempt to do so as you felt your eyelids become heavier and heavier.

~~~

He had only the faintest idea of exactly how long you had been there when he found you. 

He had sensed your force energy waver from halfway across the Super Star Destroyer. The sheer amount of anger and frustration emanating off of your person was surprising. He had thought that you were the more calm and collected type, but reminded himself that human emotions were common. It surprised him that someone as small as you could feel such overwhelming amounts of anger. Being a sith lord, he would say that he was almost impressed. However, something inside of him kept him from feeling as such. 

Instead, he felt… saddened. He didn’t exactly know why. 

As fast as your immense feeling of anger came, it went. Sensing this new feeling within you, his attention was piqued. 

A deep sadness. A melancholy, even.

For a moment, he couldn’t tell where exactly he had felt such a thing before. He did not have to delve far into this memory before realizing exactly where he has sensed such strong feelings prior to now. 

He had felt them from within himself. 

As he was currently in a meeting with some high-ranking officers and a handful of moffs, he knew he couldn’t step away so suddenly and without warning without them pestering him. He did not like to be pestered. Yet, something deep down inside him told him to go to you, to check on you and make sure that you were…

No. He had more important matters to attend to, he told himself. 

Continuing on with his meeting, he couldn’t help but feel an odd sensation bubble within the core of his being. It pulled him away from the meeting, and beckoned him to leave these people and direct his attention towards you.  

There are more important matters to attend to, he had tried to tell himself, but his thoughts did nothing to silence the voice telling him to leave. 

After a long moment or two, he felt what was left of his natural body stiffen beneath the leather and robotics that encased him. Honing in on your force energy once again, he felt a cold feeling run through the web of nerves that remained within his body. Your presence had faded suddenly, a shadow of itself only a few moments prior. He couldn’t tell what you were feeling. 

Surprising him, he felt his mind race with various scenarios of what could have happened. Was something finally fixed on the ship? Had you inadvertently broken something further? Were you taking a break?

He clenched his fist when the most worrisome thought of all popped inside of his head, making all the others fade away into nothing. 

Were you dead?

He tried in vain to calm himself of the thought and put it to rest. He had seen you only the night before, and you appeared to be in perfect health. You had even smiled. This did little to calm him, however. As he would try to focus on what these idiotic officers had to say, his mind would always slip back to you. 

A great sense of frustration started to smother him whole, causing him to clench his fist even tighter. He was frustrated that he could not pay attention to the meeting. He was frustrated that he had to attend the meeting in the first place. He was frustrated that these officers and moffs were so damn stupid. However, most of all…

He was frustrated that he couldn’t go to you. 

He was frustrated that you had such a profound effect on him. You were just his mechanic. Why did he care whether you were dead or alive? You could be replaced. 

...couldn’t you?

The second that words were spoken to signal the end of the meeting, he had turned and exited the meeting room, the wind of his fast exit making his cape flutter behind him. He sensed that the other men in the room were confused and almost startled by his sudden departure, but he didn’t care. He had to go to his hangar immediately. 

Marching past all the other workers of the Super Star Destroyer in his path, he ignored all who tried to grab his attention. Idiots. Fools. Worms. 

Couldn’t they see that he was in a hurry?

But why was he? 

Why was he so in need to see you? To hear your voice and see your eyes? To hear a report on your progress? 

Because (F/N) is my mechanic. Nothing more, he told himself. Why did it feel like a lie? 

Finally at the doors of his hangar, he punched in his code to the keypad and stepped through the doors. The space was eerily quiet, and this unnerved him. Were his suspicions true? 

Hastily making his way over to your workstation, he couldn't help but notice the palm of your small hand capsized on the floor in front of his TIE, the rest of your body obscured by a crate in the way. 

No. 

No.

This cannot be.

Quickening his pace, he moved his hand to extend in front of him. Reaching out with the force, he threw the crate covering the sight of you across the hangar, it’s landing making an unholy crashing noise. 

As he drew closer to you, he noticed how you were laid on the floor, one hand stretched to an unknown receiver and the other pulled close to your chest. You were resting on your side, and, unsurprisingly, your jacket was long since discarded. He did not blame you for hating that infernal article of clothing. 

Finally within conversation distance to you, he stopped his quick pace and pointed the face of his mask to look at the tiny frame at his feet. Watching you carefully, he noticed that your chest and shoulders were slowly rising and falling in a rhythmic beat. 

You were alive. 

He pretended not to notice the feeling of relief wash over him.

~~~

When you finally awoke again, you were immediately hit with three startling realizations. 

Number one: you had no idea how much time had elapsed since you were looking at that window. Squinting your eyes to open slightly, you tried to process the time based on the amount of light within the hangar. This was hard to do, however, since you were still very groggy from your sleep. A for effort anyway. 

Number two: you were no longer on the floor where you had originally laid down. You could tell this from the feeling of one of your legs dangling off the edge of the object you were laying on, as well as the same feeling in one of your hands. This was confirmed as you pulled in your hands close to your chest, turned your torso, and pushed yourself up with wobbling arms. Your mind was still very fuzzy, but you were just able to make out the foregin surface beneath you. From the patterns on its surface, you deduced that it was one of the crates that littered your workstation.

Number three, and probably the most frightening of all: you were not alone. After a moment of your grogginess slipping off of your body, your ears finally turned back into your consciousness. They told you of the noise they heard, and the fear you should be feeling as a result of it. 

Heavy, mechanical, rhythmic, breath. 

His breath. 

Taking a quick glance up from the surface of the crate, you beckoned your eyes to tell you whether or not your two ears were the biggest liars in the galaxy or not. Of course, they weren’t. Before you was that silhouette you knew all too well. 

Shit. 

Quickly rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you scrambled to try and stand up and assume your attention stance. You found this difficult, however, since your muscles were still aching from before. 

Oh maker, you thought, is this how I die?

“My Lord! Lord Vader!” you were able to say, your eyes finally able to focus on your boss. After a moment of processing the sight before you, you thought that maybe you were dreaming, or somehow hit your head on the way down to the ground. Lord Vader was about ten feet away from you, his buff arms folded across his large, taunt chest, and his gaze locked firmy on your frame. All of these were not surprising. What was surprising, is that he was doing all of this from a seated position upon another crate, only this one had obvious scratches and skid marks on it. Was it always like that?

You realized that this was the first time that you had ever seen Darth Vader sit down. He was always standing, always looming above everyone you ever saw. But, even as he was in a more neutral and open position, he was still very intimidating. If anything, he looked even bigger and more dominating than when he was standing up. 

You hoped he didn’t notice how your cheeks turned pink as you beheld him before you. 

“My Lord, my apologies you have to see me this way, I-I have no idea...” you began to speak. If he was going to kill you, he was sure taking his sweet time with it. He had every reason to do so. You were resting on the job. Not even pretending to do your job, on the first damn day no less! This would have been met with the harshest punishments by the officers. And, if the stories had taught you anything, Lord Vader’s would be even harsher. 

Trying to formulate the rest of your apology, you were also trying again and again to stand at attention. Your arms and legs, however, had different plans. Their weakness kept you firmly in your sitting position upon the crate. This only made the internal panic for your life stronger. Lord Vader detested weakness. Saw it as only a burden, and would be eradicated swiftly and unkindly. 

After a few attempts to stand and choke out an apology, Lord Vader rose from his sitting position, letting his strong arms fall to his sides. Shit shit shit shit shit shit shit. He was coming to kill you. You knew it. You would be dead here in a matter of minutes, sliced in two by his red saber. 

Adrenaline kicking in, you hoped that the hormone would give you the strength to stand once again. Nothing.

Vader stepped slowly and decisively closer to you, his gaze still locked upon you. Despite the rapid beating of your heart and your brain telling you to run as fast as you could, you stayed put. Lowering your head, you stared down at your feet and sighed quietly, taking a long, slow blink. If he was going to kill you, you hoped that he would give you at least the mercy of making it as quick as possible. 

Once he stopped about three feet away from you, you closed your eyes and braced yourself to hear the sound of his saber igniting in his grasp. 

This never came.

Instead, you felt something heavy, strong, and leathery make contact with your left shoulder. It was enormous, and dwarfed the joint in almost every way. Picking up your head, you darted your eyes over to the source of the pressure. Following your gaze from the touch, you followed it to its source. 

Lord Vader. 

His hand was on your shoulder. 

Maybe you really had hit your head on your way to the ground. 

“(F/N),” he said, his mask pointed squarely on your face, “I have been waiting some time for you to awaken. Do you wish to tell me why I have found you in such a state?” 

Oh yeah. You definitely hit your head on the way down. 

Licking your bottom lip and swallowing, you paused a moment before responding. You decided to tell the truth. If he wanted me dead, you figured, he would’ve killed me already. He doesn’t seem the type to draw these things out.

“I… I was trying to loosen one of the bolts on your TIE, my Lord. I tried many methods to remove it, but none of them worked. So, I thought that I would try and just try and pry it off myself. I guess I tried too hard because I just felt so weak all the sudden… Please pardon me, my Lord, I was not trying to avoid my work.” You said, letting your gaze fall only briefly as you tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. You felt your cheeks burn brighter the longer he had his hand on your shoulder. 

“I see.” he said flatly, taking his hand off of you and placing it on his belt alongside his other hand. Perhaps it was because it had been so long since you felt something like it, but you quickly missed the feeling of his hand upon your body.

“I do hope that you have enough strength to continue on with the day, Miss (F/N). I can see that you are making good progress, and it would be a shame if you did not continue as such.” he continued, tilting his head to the side. 

“Y-yes, My Lord. I can continue on with the day.” 

“Good.” he responded. Lifting up his hand once again, he unfurled it from it's gripping position, pointing his palm towards the ceiling as he extended it within your gripping distance. It took you a second of staring at his hand dumbly for you to register what exactly he was doing. “Do not allow me to keep you occupied then, Miss (F/N).”

Flicking your gaze from his hand to his mask over and over again, you hesitantly lifted your hand, your fingers loose. Gently placing your hand within his, another shot of blush made its way onto your cheeks. Your hand was noticeably smaller than his, your palm and fingers being dwarfed by his own. You could barely wrap your hand around his. 

Once your grip was secure, Lord Vader wrapped his robotic digits around your grasp. Cue another shot of blush on your cheeks. His grip was strong, secure, stable.

Deep down within you, you wondered what it would feel like to have his hands on other parts of your body. 

Helping you bring you to your feet, Lord Vader flexed his arm to pull you up off the crate. The strong motion definitely helping you to your feet, your legs only wobbling in protest for a moment before allowing you to stand again.

You were now awfully close to Lord Vader. 

Only about a foot away, your hand still wrapped tightly in his. 

Realizing that you had forgotten to pull your hand back, you blushed for what seemed like the fifteen-millionth time that day and slowly pulled it back. You kept your neck craned as you looked up at him, your height different now more apparent than ever. Looking right into the eyes of his black, menacing mask you mumbled out a quiet thank you, my Lord. 

The two of you stood dead-locked in a galaxy-wide championship of a staring contest for a long while. The only sound that interrupted the silence between two of you were his breath and the distant rumbling of the engines of the Super Star Destroyer. Many thoughts darted through your head as you looked right at him, trying to see if you could see his eyes beneath the mask’s.

What exactly is his game here? Why didn’t he just kill me? Am I that important? Of course not, I’m just a mechanic, he could always get another one. Then why? I wish I could see his face. Don’t think that, (F/N), that would never happen. I want him to touch me again. STOP THAT, (F/N). I don’t want him to leave. I want… 

Stop humoring yourself, (F/N). He sees you as his mechanic. Nothing more. 

It was him that broke the silence again. A simple sentence, nothing more.

“Do not dawdle any longer, (F/N). I will return again for another report at a later time.” 

You gave him a nod and a courteous yes, my Lord before he turned to leave, walking off yet again. 

Sighing to yourself, you returned to your earlier position, wrapping your hand around the wrench that was still wrapped around the bolt from before. You had hoped that the bolt would have just magically loosened itself from the time you had fallen asleep to now. 

With a brief complaint from your arms, you tried pulling the wrench towards you once again. Big shocker, it still didn't move. Cursing to yourself silently, you tried again. Want an even bigger shocker? It still didn’t move. Surprising, isn’t it?

Taking a step back to try and think of some other way that you could pry off this bolt, you shook out the pain from your hands, your brow furrowing. 

You thought that you must be hallucinating as you stared at the wrench. Without you even touching it, the wrench had started to turn towards you, taking the stubborn bolt along with it. Your confusion only grew as it repeated this motion a few more times until, suddenly, and without warning, the bolt came undone, crashing on the floor with the wrench. The sudden noise made you flinch and jump back, your mouth opening in a silent yelp. 

You were beyond bewildered. How the hell did that happen? Are you high? Hallucinating?

Quickly putting two and two together, you turned your body to the door, your lips parting. Sure enough, there he was, his hand extended it the direction of the wrench and bolt, fingers relaxed. You couldn’t believe it. You had heard the stories of this power before, his power, but you didn’t believe them. You thought it had just been people exaggerating the level of his strength. But, now, you knew that it sure as fuck wasn’t. 

You should have been scared. You should have cowered in fear, knowing that all the legends you heard were true. Yet, you didn’t. You couldn’t, even. 

All you could do was smile. Smile like a dopey, bumbling idiot and laugh in disbelief. 

You had no idea what came over you.

Calling out a hasty thank you, my Lord, you hoped that you didn’t look as girlish and giddy to him as you felt. You hadn’t smiled like this in such a long time. 

Offering nothing more than a long look and a nod, Lord Vader left the hangar, leaving you alone there once more. 

You ate an extra ration that night, the ghost of Vader’s touch still lingering in your nerves.

How you craved for him to do it again.  

~~

TAGS: @spaghetti-666​ , @soullesstaco​ , @arsonistvoyager​ , @robin-obsessed​ , @glitter-rian​ , @captainrexstan​ , @easterncryptid​ , @deviatedwinter​ , @roseangel013bf​ , @danicalifxrnia​ 

[alewyren]

I dislike redemption arc culture.

I hate seeing arguments over which characters are “irredeemable,” and this notion that every villain story has to be a morally didactic narrative in which the bad guy gets punished, the end.

I’m almost tempted to say we were all spoiled by having Zuko as a formative experience, because he’s really just the picture perfect redemption arc. He started out as a legit villain, but he never did anything too atrocious, had a tragic backstory that explained why he was like that, and went through three whole seasons of gradual character development. Like, Zuko was an amazing character. That’s the problem, though; he set our expectations too high for what “the perfect redemption arc” should be. Everyone expects their “reformed villain” characters to follow those same beats, but not every story is that cut and dry. There are lines between redemption and reformation, reformation and rehabilitation, rehabilitation and just... continuing to exist but no longer hurting anyone, and there’s a lot of nuance lost when people try to cram all that into the box of “redemption arc.”

Gonna be bringing a lot of different examples to the table here, but let’s start with Azula for ease of transition. She went through the same abuse that Zuko did, but she never got a redemption arc in ATLA proper. Some people say this isn’t fair. I disagree. This is not to say I don’t think she should be afforded the opportunity for post-canon character growth, because I absolutely do. I fully think she is capable of Getting Better, and spinoff media has consistently portrayed her as a sympathetic character. But like... she’s done some shit. She was a straight up war criminal, and emotionally abusive towards basically everyone in her social circle. I understand why. She was a 14 year old raised in an environment that rewarded that behavior, and never given a healthy outlet for her aggression.

The difference, in my opinion, is this: Zuko was fundamentally a good person from the start. Far from perfect, but he has a strong sense of values even as a child. Azula is not. Redemption for someone like Azula would look much different than it did for Zuko. Besides, in ATLA proper she was already filling an important villain role. She’d need her own show. (Which would be awesome, actually.)

But I think that’s where you have to ask the question: what even is a redemption arc? Is it any story where a villain stops being a villain? Is there a scale for like, “must do X amount of good deeds equal to Y bad deeds to qualify for redemption”? Must they be sufficiently punished for their bad deeds? What if reformation is possible without punishment--is punishment for its own sake truly justice? The focus people have on penance and atonement feels very baked in Christian moral philosophy. People don’t work like that. There’s not a cosmic scale of right and wrong, or a cosmic sin counter, there’s just... actions and their immediate impact. Bad people being let off the hook too easily can leave a bad taste in your mouth, and there are of course things with unfortunate real world implications which can’t be divorced from real-world context which are... irresponsible to allow in the hands of Certain Groups, but I hate this notion of “villains must be punished appropriately for their crimes, always, even if they have extenuating circumstances, even if they have demonstrated the capacity for personal growth, because that personal growth will never negate their misdeeds.”

In real life, it’s different. In real life, you can never be sure what’s going on in another person’s head. But the prison system of justice is fundamentally broken. People are rarely fundamentally evil, but there are some people who are too twisted and dangerous to society to be allowed to live without, at the very least, constant supervision. True evil is banal, rooted in social systems, not individual “bad people.” People have individual will, but ultimately they’re just the products of the environment and systems that fostered them. Setting aside the questions of whether people can be born evil or at what age you become personally responsible for your actions, you will get bad apples in any sufficiently large group of people. If someone has to be punished and removed from society, that’s not a success of justice. The fact that they reached that point in the first place is a failure of society in and of itself.

In fiction, technically everyone is redeemable. You can get into the heads of the bad guys and do basically whatever you want with them. Fiction should be responsible when dealing with real-world issues that affect real people, but it does not have to be morally didactic. Sometimes there just... isn’t an easy, morally didactic answer for dealing with morally complicated characters or situations. And more importantly, sometimes the morally didactic answer isn’t the narratively interesting answer. 9 out of 10 times, what’s more interesting to read about? A horrible villain being put to death, or a horrible villain being forced to live and grow?

Some hypothetical examples to ponder, purely in the context of fiction.

Horrible war criminal villain with a body count in the millions has all memories of their crimes wiped, or is forcibly brainwashed into being a better person. Setting aside the ethics of brainwashing: are they still required to “repent”? Would a victim still be justified in seeking penance from this guilt-free shell? Would this change at all depending on who was responsible for the mind-wipe?

More realistic: horrible war criminal villain with a body count in the millions straight up retires. Gets older. Bloodlust, national zeal, whatever once motivated them to do such evil loses its edge. They fall in love. Start a family. As they grow as a person, learn the value of life, the weight of their crimes starts to sink in. They atone in little ways, through little random acts of kindness and helping the people around them, but for one reason or another (not wanting to risk harm to their family, knowing they’ll be tortured for information? you decide) don’t turn themselves into the proper justice system and are never punished. Should they be punished, or allowed to continue existing? Would this change at all depending on the surrounding political circumstances, i.e.: whether their public execution would hold any symbolic value, whether affected groups are calling for their death? Does it matter at all in deciding justice whether this hypothetical villain feels personal guilt or regret over their war crimes? Why or why not?

Child villains. IRL there are documented cases of violent crime in children as young as grade school age, not all of whom had violent backgrounds. Should they be held to the same standards as adult villains, even if the scale of their crimes are the same? What’s the cutoff age? Are all villains under 18 capable of rehabilitation, no matter how horrible their crimes? How about 16? 14? 12? What about villains whose ages aren’t really clear, ie Cell from DBZ being like, six?

How much does backstory matter? Should it matter if there’s a good reason someone is Like That, or should their actions be judged as-is? It doesn’t matter to the victims whether or not the villain had a bad childhood, right? Moreover, does it matter at all whether someone is “fundamentally a good person,” at least insofar as genuinely caring about the people around them and caring about a moral code? People do evil things for reasons other than “being evil people.”

Morally bankrupt person who regularly fantasizes violent harm on the people around them, wholly selfish with no love for any other human being, fundamentally incapable of meaningful self-reflection or growth. Just a complete piece of shit all around. But they never have, and never will, commit any crimes, either due to some divine ordinance or just plain self-preservation/fear of getting caught. They might, at worst, just be a toxic asshole, but not one who holds any power over others. Should they be punished solely for their moral character, rather than actions?

There aren’t always easy answers. It’s okay to acknowledge that, and it’s okay to tackle hard moral questions like this in fiction. And I hate seeing this boiled down to “stop trying to redeem villains who are Actually Horrible People” or whatever. Especially in kids’ media which takes an optimistic stance on people being capable of change in the first place. Y’all gotta stop holding it to the same level of moral realism as gritty stuff for adults.

On the whole, I think we should do away with the term “redemption” in the context of morality entirely. Like redemption arc, redemption equals death, what does that mean? It implies one has sufficiently made up for their past deeds, that that’s the gold standard, but is that really ever possible? Like I said, there’s not a cosmic good deeds | bad deeds counter for every person, or at least not one that living people have any way of knowing about. And that’s a flawed way of thinking to begin with. Those bad deeds can never be erased, ever. There plenty of examples of villains who commit crimes they can never realistically atone for. Regardless of whether they want to atone in the first place, it’s like I said: in fiction, it’s often just... more fun to force them to live and deal with the consequences. But on the flipside, there are so, so many people who see themselves as “good” and use that to justify their own bad deeds. Which ties back into what I said about the whole discourse reeking of Christian moral philosophy, because lmfao @ corruption in the catholic church.

The point is. There are shades of grey. Not everything has to be a full-blown bad guy to good guy redemption arc. You don’t need to “properly atone for your sins” to be worthy of life or love.

Here are some better questions to ask than “is this character redeemable”:

Is it believable, from what we know of this villain as a character, that they are capable of becoming a good, law-abiding citizen?

How about capable of love?

Guilt?

Are they capable of any personal growth whatsoever?

Are they capable of being a positive impact on the lives of the people around them?

Is it actively harmful to leave them alive, even with clipped wings?

Is it interesting to leave them alive?

How morally didactic is the narrative as a whole?

How much forgiveness are they offered, versus how much could they possibly ever deserve?

How abstracted is this character from reality, ie: are there any real world parallels that make it uncomfortable to frame this character in a sympathetic light? (be careful not to fall into a black and white abuser/victim dichotomy)

Would further punishment or suffering be productive? (Productive, not justified, that’s a key distinction--punishment for its own sake is just pointless cruelty.)

Even the most vile, irredeemable bastards can still be dragged like... an inch. And that’s still a fun and valuable story in and of itself, even if it’s nothing remotely approaching a redemption arc and they’d very much still deserve to rot in Hell by the end of it. I don’t believe Hell is real, as much as I personally wish it were sometimes, but like. If it were, or in fictional universes where it is.

But also, there really are some characters and botched “redemption arcs” that just come off insanely uncomfortable. And there is a subjective aspect to that as well, but more than once I’ve seen people say “X villain did not deserve redemption/forgiveness” and 9 times out of 10 I’m like “that’s... really not what they got, though?”

It’s complicated.

[dis-easedfairy]

Impulsive Decision MP PREVIEW

Male Path | Female Path’

Chapter 9 : Just A Normal Day At The Office

Warnings!: Swearing 

Genre: Poly!au, angst, fluff, eventual smut, yandere!au?

Pairings: BTS x Reader / Kim Taehyung x Reader / Kim Seokjin x Reader / Jung Hoseok x Reader / OC x Reader / Park Jimin x Reader / Min Yoongi x Reader

Summary: M/n is the owner of a very wealthy and successful company, Barnanby Inc. M/n attends a BTS show, since they happen to be a fan. They make a very impulsive decision to show a loophole in BTS’s security and end up kidnapping BTS and 2 girls. In a fit of panic M/n stashes BTS and the girls in a very luxurious bunker for the time being, but M/n’s world slowly starts to crumble the longer the boys are out of the public’s eye,

Word Count in This Preview: 1,119 (4 Minutes of Average Reading Time)

A/N: The boys aren’t in this chapter that much purely so I can develop plot and give background info. So, filler.

Once I had almost everything in its rightful place I still hadn’t found my dad’s games. I figured I wasn’t looking hard enough and began to load everything into my car to look through at the office since I had been there for longer than needed.

I made sure to sit on my office couch as I went through box after box.

It was pretty mundane. It was starting to get really boring until I came across a book. It was a book about animation which was to be expected but a few of the pages had marks in the corner, like quickly scribbled numbers. A few pages were torn out and torn in half.

I frowned as I began to flip through, not really noticing a pattern in the numbers or even knowing what the numbers would be to.

“I HAVE MADE AN ENTRANCE!” A loud booming sound came from my office door.

Out of pure reflex, I chucked the book I was holding at the door.

A loud thud and screech rang through the room as my eyes began to focus on who came through the door.

It was my little sister, cringing away from one side of the door that the book seemingly hit. Her eyes were wide and her mouth parted open in shock.

I let out an almost snort as I held my hands out, “Jieun, my bad! Don’t do that! I get you wanted dramatic effect but holy fuck give me a warning.” I complained.

“Give YOU a warning!? You threw a book at me!” She got out of her shocked position to clench her fists at her sides.

“I thought you were a monster!”

“HOW OLD ARE YOU!?” I giggled at the question.

“Will you forgive me if I eat lunch with you?”

“…It’s 5 pm.” I rolled my eyes.

“All you had to say was ‘no’.” I pouted as I got up to look for the bag Jason gave me earlier that day.

“I dropped by to see how my amazing brother was doing,” I could practically hear the sugar drip from her lips as I began to unpack my food.

“Cut the uwu crap and tell me why you’re really here.” I sighed as I opened the larger container that had rice in it.

She let out a groan and stomped over to plop herself on the couch across from me, “Mom didn’t like that you guys cut Dad’s family out of visiting our childhood home so she’s inviting them to our apartment. One of their brats already occupied my room.”

The irritating thing about this was the fact that our childhood home was already paid for, but my mother refused to live there because it was too much of a reminder to what was. So she insisted to move into a luxury two-bedroom apartment in Gangnam.

I let out a scoff as I poked at the fried chicken in a container covered in some kind of sauce, knowing Jae was paying for that apartment, “I bet Jae would love to know that.” I smirked.

“I tried to tell her we don’t want them around us be she went on and on about how we were family and how I should be nice! Can I just please stay with you?” She whined.

I began to think it over as I chewed, “I don’t think you can.”

“Why nooooot!?” I tried not to enjoy her misery.

“I’m not staying at my apartment. So you can stay there, you’ll just be alone and then our siblings will chew me out for leaving a 17-year-old girl alone in an apartment in Gangnam.” I muttered, shoving my face with more food, and then moved to open another container.

“We can just keep a secret!”

“I doubt that.”

“C’monnn! Pleasseee!”

“How about this, you go ask Jilly and Jae about staying with them, if they both say no, then you can have the keys by tonight.” I bargained.

She lit up, “Seriously!?” I nodded, “ILLGOASK!” She nearly yelled and bolted towards the door.

“DON’T RUN TOO FAST OR JILLY WILL SUE MY ASS! I DIDN’T RAISE YOU TO BE AN IDIOT!” I yelled… with my mouth full.

“SORRY! I’LL SPEEDWALK!”

I quickly finished my work to look through old floppy disks and USB drives my father had stocked up. I had told my assistant to push everything back that day.

It was around dinner time when I found a flash drive that caught my attention.

Most of them were files for unfinished games, ideas, and a mess of coding that didn’t make sense to my idiotic brain. But this USB drive had only two folders.

Both were password protected.

Once I clicked on them the command prompt on my computer popped up asking for the password.

I let out a sigh as I entered my mom’s birthday.

Access Denied. The command prompt closed.

I opened and tried my twin sibling’s birthday.

Not it.

I let out a groan and began to enter mine, trying to get it out of the way before I entered Jieun’s birthday which I was SURE was the password if it wasn’t my mother’s.

Upon pressing enter after the last digit of my birthday year the words ‘access granted’ appeared in the command prompt, the small window closed up, and the file opened.

There were 4 documents there.

READ FIRST

LEE ANIMATIONS

GWAN BROADCASTING

AN HAEWON

My fingers itched to click on one of the other files. Two were popular in media. Lee Animations had rebranded to Lee Entertainment a few years back. They hired idols and actors. Their animations were no longer being made by them, they chose to switch to the idol and film business pretty late. Everyone thought they would go bankrupt.

Gwan Broadcasting was a thing before my father even went to America. Years and generations in the company as well as very good dramas and sub-networks under their belt.

An Haewon. The name didn’t even begin to register in my memory.

Against my impulses, I clicked on the ‘READ FIRST’ file.

M/n

You’re reading this because you snooped in my things… OR I handed you this after you finished college but let's be honest with ourselves the first option is more likely.

I hope by now you’ve grown and I’ve handed the company over to you. So just have a drink with me after this because I have a few things to get off my chest.

I didn’t get this company JUST through hard work. I hope as time goes on you begin to understand the circumstances that led me to make the decisions I made and the actions I took.

I won't ask for forgiveness.

Just understanding . . .

[iphoenixrising]

hey we haven’t heard anything from you in a while. everything good? How’s life treating you? All my love for one of my favorite batfam writers!💗💗💗

Hi babe.

Ah sorry, I’ve been super busy at work and with kiddo :( I mean, I’m still writing when I can, but it’s just time and motivation. My project has really taken off (reads as: expanded) and most nights I’m chipping away at the massive amount of documentation for not only a Java-based framework, but an entire Platform *sob* So, it’s just such a huge amount of old articles and brainstorming sessions and meeting minutes and just ugh. I mean, it’s kind of interesting to try tracking all these things down and figuring out how they’re going to work together since the developers (from 12 to 50-ish, my God and now they want me to read markdown and do pull requests for comments and shit because this is my fucking life) are still working on the platform services, the development environment, and all these fucking tools I’ve never heard of (Kubernetes, wtf is this thing??) so I’m learning a foreign language almost tbh.

Did I mention *sigh*?

ANYWAY, also some of the things I’m working on that are like Batfam are a little more...I dunno, just things that a bit harder for me I guess, but even if I write just a sentence or two, I still count it as a win.

But like...I said something about a Sentinel / Guide Au, and even though I’m at what would be a good stopping point, I’m not very happy with it :/ So, if you’d like to see kind of what I’ve been doing, I’m going to throw down what I’ve got below the cut. 

Warnings: 

DickTim, Angst

Sentinel/Guide Au

**

After he brings B back from time, send the Dark Knight back to Gotham, he gives in to things long overdue, and trains with Shiva–

–to be an effective Guide.

Years of suppressants made it literally hell without them, trying to keep his shields up, trying to push out the telepathic traffic suffocating him the second he opens up just a crack.

Shiva, of course, had been her cheerfully murderous self, plying him with the full onslaught of a powerful Sentinel.

"You will be drawn to us from now on, Little Bird. You will want to protect us, bring us back from the abyss. If you choose to allow your powers as a Guide rein free, then you must learn to fight against the urges."

The fucked-up part is–

–she's right.

If he wants to stay in the life, wear the cape and cowl under the new name, go back to the Titans (since they've been looking for him again, fly-bys and searches for his tech), then he needs to learn how to deal with what he can do and how to deal with the instincts that come along for the ride.

It's not enough that Shiva is in the middle of hunting down a few former students ("They have made...the wrong choices." 

"That's rich coming from you, you know."

"We all have a code, Little Bird, and I am no different.")

but they managed to run into a few other Sentinels along the way.

He'd like to say he'd taken his ass beating like a pro at this juncture in the vigilante game, but the reality is, they'd had to take shelter in a shitty lean-to, so he could be tragically, metaphysically hung-over.

He gives up the cowl and suit, utility belt and sundries. He goes as a wrecked teenage American boy, changing it up from the last time he trekked behind Lady Shiva and took on her adversaries. He tries not to think about Dick or Jason, Dami or Alfred, tries not to think about the confused look on B's face in his safe house, drying his hair after a long shower, trying to readjust to the current timeline.

("You aren't going back to Gotham?"

"I still have things to do."

"...there's something you aren't telling me."

"There's a lot I'm not telling you."

"Come to me when you're ready, Tim. No matter what, you're always going to be one of my Robins.")

Instead, he learns how to keep himself, and the Sentinels around him, safe and sane while trying to stay two steps ahead of the next fight, the next clue, the next "training."

In Shanghai a few months later, he knows it's time to move on when people part ways for the brightly clad superheroes coming en-masse down the packed street for him.

Well, moving on it is.

Going back to the Tower, away from the Bats and Gotham and the Rogue Gallery (thinking about facing the Joker this raw and open is fucking terrifying), was the best he was going to get considering the circumstances.

Those circumstances being the pointed twitch over Kon's eye and Bart's very intense gaze.

"You were supposed to call, asshole. The OG Batman has been back in Gotham for like months and you've just been, you know, chilling with Lady Shiva?"

Tim, who is so out of bullshit at this juncture, feels better after a hot shower and some old sweats with a Superboy t-shirt, throws up his fucking hands.

"All right, fine. I never told anyone. I...I've been on suppressants since I was a kid, just like my mom. Guides..."

"It's not that bad anymore!" Cassie tries helplessly, the first to actually reach across the table for his hand.

The instant connection makes them both gasp. It’s a shallow one, just a dip under her natural shield (he knows it’s Cissy, the Guide that’s been helping her until now, bringing her back whenever she hits a Zone, recognizes the touch of their Arrowette), just a skim over her immediate emotions  this thing now untried and how utterly calm he makes her just by hands lightly placed. 

"O-ooh," is soft while his fingers tighten, his eyes sharpen, his shields constructing around her, his instinct to protect.

"Not necessary," Gar chimes in, still leaning against the door between the kitchen and communal entertainment room, "we're all good in the Tower, T."

Is what shakes him out of it, hastily pulling away from Cassie's hand.

"Wow." Wonder Girl breathes out, eyes soft and half-mast, looking at him dreamily.

"Nope." Because he can already feel the headache coming on, how her hand tries to grab back at his.

“We could fight better together, Tim!”

“Do you even know how strong a Guide has to be to take care of four Sentinels?”

In one terribly creepy singular move, Bart, Kon, Gar, and Cassie give him that look.

You know, aimed at his face.

"No one," Bart cuts in, eyes wide at the exchange, of Tim's aura warm and inviting suddenly stronger, reaching out... "Tim, T. No one has to know."

The flash of fear, a residual from the tunic, makes him hedge back a subtle step back.

Kon pointedly grips him by the bicep, over his shirt while Bart moves enough that his shoulder bumps into Tim’s ribs, halting the possible escape attempt.

“Okay, okay, backing off. New powers are about a bitch, not like we all haven’t been there once or twice.” Kon soothes over, taking small steps and tugging until Tim is moving with him closer to the communal kitchen where his seat is empty at the island, and they can possibly get proof the guy actually eats.

“Amen,” Cassie throws up a hand and is already digging through the fridge until she finds–

–the last grape Zesti.

Tim’s eyes narrow dangerously on that singular can, his body moving before his brain can take over because he’s sliding on his old chair, the can cold against his fingers, too thirsty for caffeine that he can’t even.

Sure, it’s a trap, but with these guys, at least he knows it.

“I’m very not ready to do anything remotely Guide-like in the field,” the soft ca-saaaa as the can opens. “You want me to sleuth, fight, and strategize, then I’m all for it.”

Bart is just suddenly in Kon’s usual seat beside him, spinning around in tight, fast circles, “you mean you’re thinking about coming back? To the life?” 

“Dude, that would be stellar.”

Tim side-eyes his besties, “it was never in the plan to-to stop.”

“Can’t blame us for assuming, you know,” Gar grins toothily, “no Red Robin for a while, my dude.”

Tim goes quiet, staring down at the can between his hands, shoulders hunched over.

“At least,” Raven’s voice is smooth and soft, comforting, “tell us why now, Tim?”

“Why now?”

“Why begin training as a Guide now?” She clarifies, sliding into the seat across from her, and the coolness of her aura, not a Sentinel, but something purely Raven puts his frayed nerves at ease, makes it easier for him to find the words.

“I turned 18,” and he can’t look at them while he admits to it, “and...and I figured out who my Sentinel is after Ra’s kicked me out the window.” (I was fine going out that way. It was fine. I was saving Wayne Enterprises from the League of Assassins, I was fighting the good fight. It shouldn’t have happened that way...why did it have to happen that way?)

“Oh,” and Cassie’s eyes get huge.

“Ra’s al Ghul is your Sentinel?!” Bart fairly screams.

“No dude,” Tim rolls his eyes and finds his can suddenly fascinating. “It’s...Dick. He’s...yeah. It’s him.”

“I didn’t hear that,” Kon hurries, standing shock-still, “I didn’t hear any of that.”

“Not him,” Bart is gritting his teeth because dammit, why couldn’t Tim have been his Guide? The universe was totally, wholly unfair.

A muscle in Tim’s jaw flexes, his nose pinkening along his upper cheekbones. He blinks watery eyes, takes a deep, deep breath to try and keep himself under control. 

“Yeah,” and Tim sighs a little, the ache in his chest more acutely painful when he thinks about that moment waking up in the Cave, Dick in the Batsuit without the cape/cowl combo smiling down at him, still painfully unaware of the connection drawn tight between them.

(He doesn’t need me. He’s got Babs and Dami. His Guide and his Robin.)

Getting the absolute fuck out of the Manor had been his first order of business once he’d come to, just sprouting whatever placating bullshit Dick needed to hear to let him go without much of a fight (this time).

Finding Bruce and staying the hell out of Gotham hadn’t helped the pull he inexplicably felt, or the pressure of minds around him that had sent him to Shiva in the first damn place. His Guide abilities were overcoming the suppressants, so he was out of time...and out of options. 

Still, even with the training, he occasionally has the dreams at night. Not the usual array of awful nightmares from his real life, Jason shooting him in the chest at point-blank to make sure the job gets done this time, Bruce dying right before his eyes, turning into that skeleton husk Superman brought to them thinking it was the real thing, Damian sneering at him with the katana held high, spitting out how it’s time the real Robin took his rightful place just before bringing the blade down–

No, no, it’s even worse than those.

It’s shadowy hands touching him, the warm wet of a mouth over his skin and scars, gentle voice in his ear telling him how beautiful he is, how much he’s needed, wanted, how it’s not just because of what he is or what tunic he used to wear, it’s all because he’s Tim. He doesn’t wake up when his dream self realizes it’s Dick over him, those blue eyes taking him in, pinning his wrists down to look over every inch of his naked body. He doesn’t wake up when Dick starts preparing him. He doesn’t wake up when Dick kisses him hard and desperate. He doesn’t wake up when the tears dry on his face and their bodies line up.

“Mine,” his dream Sentinel doesn’t even hesitate, “Don’t ever run from me again. Do you understand me, Tim?”

Just before Dick pushes, he wakes up, panting and hard, his instincts going crazy enough that he has to meditate to calm down.

Cassie gently wraps her hand around his shoulder, making sure they don’t have skin-to-skin contact this time. “I’m sorry,” she smiles gently at his frown, “I know you and Dick have had some...issues in the past few years.” But he can read the guilt in her face. Back when everyone thought Bruce was dead and his cape had been yanked out from under him, Dick had sent Cassie to try talking some “sense” into him. She still feels awful for jumping on the same train everyone else had been riding, the ‘that guy is suffering from depression’ instead of believing he might actually be right. 

(It still stings though, doesn’t it?)

He doesn’t say anything back, just looks out one of the big windows and pulls out of her hold to take a drink of his Zesti.

“But,” Gar quickly jumps in, “you’ll stay in the Tower and fight on the team again, right? Like, no more trips with World’s Deadliest Assassins?”

Tim visibly hesitates, pausing with the can up to his mouth. 

Slowly, he lowers it, his eyes taking on a cold calculation that is and isn’t like their old Rob. “Like I said, I can’t be a Guide for anyone, and I mean that. Second, I told you the truth in confidence, so I expect everyone to keep my secret. Third, I’m not anywhere near ready to go to Gotham or face the Bats, so for now, I’m fighting under the radar. If those aren’t acceptable stipulations, I’ll grab some of my clothes from storage and be out of your Tower.”

“Storage?” Kon glances around at the team, “Tim, buddy, why do you think we’d have your stuff in storage?”

“I assumed Dick would already approach you about making Damian part of the team,” his tone is absolutely empty, emotionless. “And there’s no way both of us could be here at the same time, so...” he lets them put it together from there.

The look of utter devastation on Kon’s face makes him feel slightly better.

**

Coming back when Cassie, Bart, and Kon have his back, just like they were closer to the end of their YJ run, makes the transition easier than it realistically should have been.

And it really might just be how low the dose of suppressants are now, or that he feels comfortable stepping into Robin’s role on the team, just with a different name, a different mask. It might just be how Bart has a tendency to hover with that hummingbird energy coming off him even when he’s seemingly standing still, maybe it’s Kon’s TTK pressing at his back even if the guy is across the room, maybe it’s how he and Cassie have leadership meetings where they just binge watch reruns of Gossip Girl and eat ice cream to bemoan their woes. 

But maybe, it’s how he can feel them pulling at his shields unconsciously. Maybe it’s how he can sometimes push back enough, can skim just the edges to get impressions of angry, sad, depressed and gently erect a mental shield without delving deep without permission, can give them the space they need from their intense senses and powers. 

Just another way he can be the regular guy on the team, working under the radar. So much a part of his role in the first damn place. 

He doesn’t realize it becomes something normal until they take the good fight a little too close to Gotham for his liking, but the choices were few and Luthor is such an incredible ass hat that Tim actually plays it down, dresses up as CEO Tim Drake to divert their baddie while the team takes apart his latest weapon of mass destruction on the down-low.

What he absolutely doesn’t expect is to leave the lobby of one of the most posh restaurants in Metropolis–

And walk face-first into Dick Gryson’s chest.

(Technically, it’s Nightwing, but really, this doesn’t make the sitch any better.)

A hand, black with blue fingerstripes, covers his mouth, and the sound of a grapple retracting is a pending oh no that he doesn’t fight the vigilante pretty much kidnapping him off the street in broad daylight. 

He can only thank God it isn’t skin-to-skin contact because his inner senses are flaring this close to the Sentinel, his Sentinel, that he has to grind his back teeth to keep himself in check. He pulls away the second they land it on solid rooftop, shoving his sleeve back to check the team’s status on his hidden wrist computer. 

Mission success! 

“Imagine my surprise,” Nightwing growls, hand on his shoulder to spin him around, “when I find you having lunch with someone like Lex Luthor instead of taking my damn calls, Timmy.”

Stepping out of that hold is subtle because Tim is looking over the side of the roof, adjusting his tie to try putting some distance between them. “I’m undercover. Those are the things people like us do when we’re running an Op, Nightwing.”

Those whiteouts narrow on him, a trick only Dick can really pull off effectively. “None of that tells me where the hell you’ve been for the last year since you left to find Bruce, found him, and didn’t come back.”

His back straightens, eyes looking away when the irritation and heat of anger hits him harder without the nice little cocktail of suppressants and stabilizers, makes his own shields tremble at the burning sear along the edges of his consciousness. 

Instead of saying something he might come to regret, Tim sucks in a breath through his nose and works through the bolt of pain, gathers his shields around himself to keep the Sentinel from unerringly lashing out at him again.

“What the hell are you even doing here? Recon on Luthor? For which nefarious plot?”

A black and blue hand slashes the space between them, “not even important, Tim. So, how about you call your team and tell them you’ve got some Bat business because we? Need to talk.”

“I’m sorry, what now?”

“You heard me. I’ve been trying to get in contact with you for weeks.”

“I sent back your case files, asshole–”

“Not about cape and cowl shit, Tim!”

“I don’t even know what you’re talking about right now,” even though he does, he really does. He just doesn’t know why it has to happen now.

Nightwing, however, has had enough of the talk and with a whip of his arm has a bolo out and thrown, his natural speed as a Sentinel might be slower than someone like the Flash, but it still has Tim wrapped up tight faster than he can realistically dodge.

The sight of the vigilante Nightwing swinging through Metropolis with the CEO of Wayne Enterprises over one shoulder would be big news in the city if anyone had been bothered to really look up.

**

The hotel is nice Tim thinks while wiggling around on the bed where Dick pretty much dumped him. His fingers are already getting the bolo loose from around his upper body by the time Dick has the mask off and the Nightwing suit unzipped to flop around his waist.

The Gotham Knights t-shirt underneath is a new one since the old faded one got blown up in that little explosion in the ‘Haven a few years back.

Dick lifts and sets a chair down with a pointed clack, sitting down to watch Tim squirm his way up. He’s got the bolo loose enough to brace his palms.

“What part of I’m in the middle of an OP–”

“Don’t care,” Dick cuts him off ruthlessly, those blue eyes hard and jaw tense. “I honestly don’t give a crap about the Titans right now.”

“Well I sure as hell do thank-you very much,” Tim pulls the bolo off, tosses it across the room with an angry flick, facing his former mentor, former partner, former friend with those old feelings creeping up his throat to make the taste in his mouth coppery and bitter.

“The only thing I care about right now is that I finally caught up to you. The last time I even saw you was that swan dive–”

“I’m aware. Being kicked out of a window is pretty memorable, even for people like us,” he keeps it deadpan, keeps the anger and irritation, the feelings of shit like betrayal and it must have been so easy to throw me the fuck away.

“The point is, smart ass, you left the Cave and haven’t been back. You only answer my emails about cases and bad guys. But when I ask you to come back home, which I have, Tim, I don’t even know how many times, and I get nothing! We need you–”

“Why would I come back to Gotham for you?” Is what spills out of his mouth, something bitter and foul. “You’ve already got a fucking Robin to be your little brother, remember?”

Welp, there goes playing it cool.

But watching Dick jerk back like Tim had landed a physical blow was more satisfying than he wanted to admit.  

“Are you kidding me right now? You’re still angry about that? I’ve explained to you exactly why–”

The irritation in Dick’s tone, obvious disgust when he leans back and crosses his arms over his chest is just about enough.

“You explained it just fine. You made your choice, so everyone just has to deal with it, right? Yeah, that’s really being my equal.” 

Tim makes himself stay deadly calm and cold, moves his legs away from Dick’s to stand and take a few steps away from the seething Sentinel to adjust his tie and try to get his hands to quit trembling. 

“I can’t believe you’re acting this childish, Tim. I’m really disappointed with you right now.”

“Glad we’re on the same page, Dick, disappointed in each other,” but it strikes him anyway in the small, sad place where he held on to the hope they could still work everything out somehow and at least go back to being friends. A small part that’s been slowly dying in degrees, and that last hit is enough to make it so absurdly painful.

(All those years in the R, fighting the good fight, being brothers, having each other’s backs, and it all ends here, doesn’t it?)

“What? I did everything I could do for you! I–”

“If that’s what you want to believe, then that’s fine. I don’t have any reasons to argue with you,” staring at his own reflection in the mirror, seeing the red start to creep over his cheeks, his eyes get overly shiny, Tim Drake straightens his spine and flexes his own shields. 

He keeps himself together enough to turn on a heel and walk calmly to the door.

“Tim, just...okay, just wait. Let’s talk this out–”

He doesn’t even turn, hand already on the knob, just pulls open the door and takes a hasty step through. It’s only the first step, but Dick is still just suddenly there, trying to snatch at Tim’s wrist with a bare hand, managing the brush of fingertips over a pulse.

“Don’t leave like this,” Is the last thing Dick says before the electric shock slides up his spine, the pull to all his senses almost has him on his knees.

The touch has Tim lurching away, jerking his wrist up to cradle against his chest, the red burn of Dick’s emotions beating at his shields harder with just a simple graze.

It ends with Dick still in the doorway, braced against the frame, gaping, and Tim leaning heavily into the wall across the hall, a wince on his face.

Stupid metaphysical connections and shit.

The touch hadn’t been enough to, you know, like bond them or anything, but it’s widely believed True Pairs didn’t even have to touch to get impressions from one another.

“You asshole,” he seethes at that shocked expression. 

“You feel like I betrayed you,” is low and thick, Dick’s eyes a little dazed with what he picked up through the momentary connection, “it hurt you so much when I made Dami my Robin because I didn’t even talk to you, I didn’t trust you. You think I just threw you out of my life. How could I ever do that to you...?”

If Tim was a better Guide, on a higher dose of suppressants, he would have been able to keep himself closed off enough that if they did manage to touch, he could have kept Dick out of his shields, wouldn’t have given him the ability to skim over shitty emotions.

If Tim was a better Guide, he wouldn’t have the urgent need to run.

But welp, here they are.

As the thought takes shape in his brain pan, that he’s in his civilian day-ware and can run down the hall while Dick –still half in Nightwing– is trapped in the doorway, his knees firm and his eyes dart wildly to the side, giving himself away.

And since Dick was Batman, is Nightwing, is a Sentinel, he sees the writing on the wall and absolutely refuses to let it happen. Dick shoves with his arms, darts out into the hallway, makes his suddenly weak knees work enough to shake up Tim’s plan, seizes the apparent Guide, his Guide, in a princess hold and get back before the door even starts to close.

“Put me–!”

But Dick folds his legs to sit with his back against the door, and wraps both arms around the struggling third Robin. He can hold onto Tim better than a bolo anyway. 

The push at Tim’s shields is a pressure he isn’t used to dealing with, and it’s painful to fight against it rather than just let the tentative connection open. His hands curl into fists in his lap, trying to strain against the arms pinning him while concentrating on strengthening his shields. 

He doesn’t realize he’s whispering, “no, no, no,” under his breath. 

“Please,” Dick lays his forehead down on top of Timmy’s head, “please don’t go. Not now. I’m finally...Tim, I get it now. I swear, I get it.”

“...doesn’t matter. Too late.”

“That isn’t fair,” the smallest shift and Dick is breathing against his throat, making him shiver, “I just found out you’re...a Guide. My Guide. We haven’t even started yet. It can’t be too late if we haven’t had a beginning.” It gets worse when Dick breathes in his scent deeply, a noise coming out of his chest.

“We have had a beginning,” he bites out, fists tight, concentrating on keeping his shields strong but flexible, “we’ve had years–”

“And I’m not ready to throw all of that away.”

The pressure against his mental shields finally eases up as Dick raises his head, gives him a little shake to make him look up. 

“You already did, remember?”

“I didn’t... I never threw you away. That’s not what I meant or wanted. Yes, I should have handled things better. I know that now, and I’m sorry I hurt you. I was sorry before, I just didn’t know how to tell you, how to make it better between us.”

Tim’s eyes narrow, and he doesn’t let up in case this is one of those diversionary tactics to put him in a false sense of security. 

(They fight bad guys. Sometimes, they have to cheat, and he wouldn’t put it past Dick to do just that.)

“I don’t know what you think is going to happen here,” he finally tries, staring up into those blue, blue eyes (I trusted you once, and fuck if I’m going to let you do this to me again). “But whatever it is, you’re wrong. I’m not going to come back to Gotham and be your Guide. I’m not going to bond with you because the universe says I’m meant to be some kind of magical counterbalance.”

Dick’s expression crumples, his arms go a little slack. 

“Tim, we’re...we’re a True–”

“I don’t give a fuck about True Pairs, Dick, not anymore. Babs has been your Guide since you both presented. She wants the job, she can damn well have it.”

It’s not a fight to push against Dick’s arms the second time and stand up out of his lap.

“You’ve loved me since the moment you put on the cape, Tim. I know you have.” When what he means is I know now.

“I loved you before that, you asshole, and you betrayed me. You don’t get that chance again.”

Turning away shouldn’t be this easy now that Dick knows the truth, but it is, and the very last parts of him still hoping, still craving, are just as easily–

–wiped out.

Dick’s eyes are watery when the door hisses and creaks upon opening, and it’s an automatic thing, reaching a hand up just expecting Tim to take it.

“Tim. Timmy, please.”

“Good-bye, Dick,” is already fading with rapidly retreating footsteps. At least he can keep some of his dignity because Dick will never know he falls the fuck apart as the elevator goes down.

**

Author’s notes:Here’s why I don’t like this: 1. I want to talk more about why Tim chose Shiva as the Sentinel to teach him how to be a good Guide. Like, I want to explore that dynamic more because I’ve never really had the time or space to write Shiva as we see her in Tim’s Robin run.2. I wanted to go more into the expanded senses of Sentinels and how to - hell, I dunno, make it seem to be a little closer to cannon maybe? Like point out some of Dick’s greatest escapes and be like part of that is due to his Sentinel power. 3. Dick says some shitty things, and I don’t give him any context. Like, at that point, he legit believes he did the right thing at the time, and look! Tim’s Red Robin so everyone wins! But yeah, once he got under those shields, the truth shakes him up. 4. I dunno, this au might not be for me. It doesn’t feel very different from some of my other angsty things I guess but meh. Who knows, I might fix it someday :D 

[captain-of-the-historicfuture]

~hello~ !! For the meta asks!: 3, 6, 9, 12, 15, 18, 21, 24, and 25 :))

Hello!! Thank you for sending these; I was really excited to see that ask game and I was hoping somebody would send some in. It still took me a while to actually answer them though, and for that I apologise. But without further ado! Some meta answers (under the cut because they ended up being fairly long, whoops):

3. What is that one scene that you’ve always wanted to write but can’t be arsed to write all of the set-up and context it would need? (Consider this permission to write it and/or share it anyway.)

I thought of a few examples, but they could basically be grouped together under a common theme: whumpy/angsty scenes that were self-indulgent as all heck. The whole self-indulgent aspect often required the characters to be just the teeniest, tiniest bit OOC and/or necessitated rather unrealistic plot circumstances. So it was simply easier to keep such scenes as maladaptive daydreams, rather than trying to think of explanations for the character/plot issues…or exposing myself to judgement for them LOL.

Receiving permission to write/share one such scene anyway is an opportunity I can’t let slip by though. It might be because I’m writing this while running on zero (0) hours of sleep—let’s hear it for insomnia, y’all!—but I suddenly couldn’t remember any of my newer ideas under this category. However, I did recall a one-shot I had started writing a couple of months ago that sort of counts? “Sort of” because I could actually be arsed to write it since I was, ya know, writing it. Only got about six hundred words down though.

…should I share those six hundred words…?

………nahhh. I don’t think I’m quite ready for that yet.

But here’s the gist of it: Coulson and May (because of course it’s Philinda) were married for quite some time before the Attack on New York. But then Coulson DiedTM and then got ResurrectedTM. But gasp of horror, he had to lose his memories of his romantic relationship with May because reasons. (I actually did have some ideas for those reasons but sshhhh this is about me yeeting context and setup.)

The first half of S1 still happens as normal (except MayWard doesn’t happen because??? Vows) and it’s now post-E20 “Nothing Personal”. The morning after (or a morning soon after, whatever) the T.A.H.I.T.I. reveal! May’s mom—who doesn’t know about GH.325 and whom May fed a cover story about Coulson divorcing her or something equally as oof, IDK—shows up at the hotel and starts ripping into Coulson for breaking her daughter’s heart, then dragging her back into the field with her ex-husband (him), then accusing her of terrible things and forcing her away again.

Poor guy’s confused as heck, and so is the team, and soon enough so is Lian. The only one who understands what’s going on is May, and she’s freaking dying off to the side like why is this happening to me and eventually everybody’s like! Explain??? (Was thinking about including something from Coulson like, “Are you still keeping things from me?” Just for that extra smidge of angst, yay!)

So yeah then May gives a, like, two-sentence debriefing that elicits more questions than answers. Coulson decides to take May aside and they have a heart-to-heart. Lots of feelings and angst and hurt/comfort and at some point plenty of kissing too. Just! May hiding her feelings for Coulson’s sake but really magnified, plus some actual apologies and consideration of the grief May’s been through on Coulson’s part.

And uhh yeah that’s basically it I dunno hdsjncjshd. I warned y’all it’s OOC, plot-bendy, and very self-indulgent!

6. What character do you have the most fun writing?

I don’t think I could name a single character for this. I get different things out of taking on different voices, you know? I guess recently I’ve found myself gravitating towards more taciturn and introspective points of view, like JQ from my original novel Rosewood or M. Yisbon from my…other original novel Temple.

Generally, however, I like tackling stories from an outsider’s perspective. That’s why I so rarely write my more “substantial” (serious? demanding? for lack of better words?) projects from the PoV of my “preferred” character. This usually means writing from their love interest’s perspective, but not always. With shorter fanfic, using a more removed/unconventional/niche PoV can be really fun. Like, I once wrote a canon compliant ficlet purely(-ish) about Philinda from Tony Stark’s perspective. That isn’t always sustainable with stories that demand more character development or closer character studies, however, which is why it’s a good thing I like writing drabbles!

9. Are you more of a drabble or a longfic kind of writer? Pantser or plotter? Do you wish you were the other?

My word counts tend to run long, but I usually only write one-shots for fanfic. If I’m even inspired with a novella- or novel-length story idea for a fandom, you already know I’m in deep with them. And if I actually find the motivation to plan and execute that idea? Dangg. That’s only ever happened…twice, maybe thrice, and I’m in a lot of fandoms.

At times, I wish I could go for more of a middle ground ’cause, like, you know what I love to see? An AO3 dashboard with several completed novellas for my ship/character of choice. I mean yes, I hecking love >90k fics, but sometimes I’m in the mood for quick reads…and what am I supposed to do when I burn through all the drabbles and 2k one-shots? (Besides despair and/or reread my faves desperately.) Novellas are basically always safe for me LOL, and I’d hope to be able to give as much as I take.

Ultimately though, I think I’m okay with where I am with regards to that. I wish I could write more in general, but I’d be okay with “writing more” just meaning “writing more one-shots”, ya know? More than okay, really. I have mad respect for fic writers who have, like, a hundred or more one-shots under their belt for this one ship. The fandom ecosystem would be incomplete without them (as well as every other type of writer, but sshhh that’s the type of writer I’m closest to being right now).

I’m definitely a plotter, and I definitely prefer it that way. It’s cool having such a detailed record of my process. I like feeling like a frazzled genius on the brink of a major discovery with all of my different outlines and colour coding and many drafts and various websites.

12. Do you want your writing to be famous?

Not exactly. It might be cool if my original works were recognisable in the world, but I don’t think I’d want to be recognisable. As for fanfic, I’d low-key enjoy gaining a place in that fandom’s community as a fic writer. Like someone who gave and got fic gifts from fic writer friends, who participated in challenges and GCs, who received writing prompts on Tumblr, whose name was known for doing a certain trope/genre a bunch of times… Ya know what I mean?

Unlikely to happen when I’m so hecking hesitant to publicly (i.e., outside of AO3) claim credit for my writing, but fjnskfsjhfjs. A writer can dream, right?

15. Which is harder: titles or summaries (or tags)?

Of those three, tags are the easiest for me, for I have a reliable system for figuring out those.

Next easiest would probably be titles. For fanfiction, I like to use titles that are a quote from the source material. You should have seen all of my old Hamilton fanfic… I was really proud of some of those titles. And I don’t mean, like, whole lines—usually only two to five words. It’s a unique type of wordplay that I just love dabbling in.

And lastly, summaries. Sometimes inspiration strikes me and a snappy and intriguing synopsis just jumps out—one that I’m quietly pleased with—but most of the time I’ll spend way too long trying to think of such a synopsis and eventually just go with whatever I’d come up with so far. And live with my quiet dissatisfaction for the rest of time.

18. Do any of your stories have alternative versions? (Plotlines that you abandoned, AUs of your own work, different characterisations...?) Tell us about them!

Typically, no. If I have deleted scenes, I save and publish them separately, but that’s about it. I sometimes think of AUs for my own work and might talk about them in my author’s notes—might even talk about writing them—but I never really do anything with them.

Although…

It’s not uncommon for me to decide a plotline isn’t working for a certain story or to think of an interesting but undoable arc for a certain character, but what I’ll do is make a whole new story for those ideas. Once I’m done developing the original idea and the branched-off one, you probably wouldn’t be able to tell they grew from the same roots. Does that count?

21. What other medium do you think your story would work well as (film, webcomic, animated series, etc.)?

That depends on the story. I’ve actually written stories in other mediums—movie screenplay, musical stageplay, poetry, TV show scripts, play scripts, roleplay—but the novel does tend to be my comfort zone. Sometimes, if I have an idea that I think could work, or would even work better, as another medium, I’ll label it as such in my folder of ideas and decide not to write it as a novel.

Most of the time, my non-book projects are collaborations. I’m working with five different people on six different story ideas: two webcomics, one stage musical, one anime, and two animated TV shows. Little concrete progress has been made in any of those, mind you, but they’re still fun to discuss!

24. Would you say your writing has changed over time?

Absolutely. But I’ve been writing stories since I was five years old, so we would hope so, huh?

I wouldn’t say my writing’s changed completely, though maybe that’s just my insider’s perspective.

25. What part of writing is the most fun?

Oh gosh, I can’t believe you’d make me choose. Writing is just such a wonderful experience for me; I love just about everything to do with it. Admittedly, not all the time, but. Since that barely qualifies as an answer, however, I’ll give you this—

The endings. Not only that intense feeling of rightness when you wrap up that last sentence, but also the moments before. The adrenaline of knowing you’re almost there but you gotta push just a bit more to actually get there. And also the part right after—the real wrap-up, honestly: the revision and the editing. Heavens, I love revising and editing my work.

Which is not to say I don’t like writing it out for the first time, too—there’s nothing quite like seeing your cursor scroll to the next page, like going from a blank expanse to a Oh man, how many more lines are even going to fit on this page?, like watching that page counter tick up another number. However, there’s something cathartic about finally ironing out those problems I had to force myself to stop worrying about earlier because “just finish the first draft dangit”.

I guess that’s not really the end of the writing process, but whatever. Close enough (as fic writers are wont to say).

Another thank-you for these asks, and feel free to come back with more at any time! ;P

Send in fun meta asks for your friendly neighbourhood writer!