#i know that the fandom has vanished but it would be criminal not to share this cute manip i found in my drafts

[the-pale-goddess]

Happy Holidays from my family (me & my two fictional doctors) to yours (beloved mutuals & followers) ❤️

[mayzi33]

Alright, alright...

So, I've had this crazy TMM theory for a long time now, but I've been afraid to share it cause I thought it was uh- too weird.

But since @ackarcue convinced me, here it is.

I don't really have a name for this theory but uh- basically

What-could-have-happened-to-Carter's-parents-why-Kalagan-might-hate-them-and-how-Carter-and-Leila-might-actually-be-related

There. JUST STICK WITH ME FOR A WHILE OKAY?

HEAR ME OUT.

Where do I start-

So we all know how Carter's parents vanished, and we unfortunately didnt get an explanation for that- Tho I do feel half of the fandom has a silent mutual agreement that it most likely has something to do with Kalagan

So think with me

In book 3, when Mick told the misfits about the fire, he said that Kalagan didn't ONLY hold a grudge agaisnt Dante, but also against Lyle. Because he, Dante, and Sandra, escaped through the tunnels and left the others behind. So he holds a grudge against the cousins, but not against Sandra since- well, he's obsessed with her.

But waaaay back in book 2, when Sandra gets introduced to Carter and they start talking about his dad, Mr. Vernon says smth about how "friends" wouldn't be the way he'd describe Sandra's and Lyle's relantioship- And she gets all flushed. Hitting that, they probably had uh- a sweet little relantioship.

And giving that Kalagan had a crush on Sandra, no doubt that would set him off.

NOW THIS IS THE PART WHERE MY DELULU GETS WEIRDER

JUST STAY WITH ME A LITTLE LONGER GUYS YOU CAN TAKE IT

We know that Carter's parents vanished when he was a little kid. We're not sure how old, but the book says it was when he had "few years of age", and he seems to have some clear memories of his parents, so lets ASSUME it was around age 3-6 (I'm guessing that it was probably 5 since in the beggining of book 1 is mentioned that Uncle Sly used Carter to steal from that couple on his 6th birthday so-)

We don't know who Leila's father is. The only thing we know, is that Sandra left her at the orphanage due to not being able to take of her. Now, who convinced her to do that? Our favorite pshycopath, Kalagan.

Ok this is really weird but

What if

WHAT IF

Lyle really is Leila's father?..

JUST HEAR ME OUT.

Now, I'm well aware that Sandra says she has a husband and that he is a miner in book 2. BUT SHE NEVER SAID **HE** WAS LEILA'S FATHER...

WHAT IF... Sandra and Lyle had an affair after all these years? AND *THATS* WHAT DROVE KALAGAN TO MAKE LYLE VANISH?

Hear me out. If you pay attetion to Leila's hair in the colored drawings, you can see *blonde locks*. Sandra's hair is darker, while Leila's is lighter. A light brown going to blond to the hair ends...

We know that the reason why Lyle left Mineral Wells was to protect his wife and son from Kalagan. But it never said he was a loyal husband... So maybe, after he had an affair with Sandra resulting in Leila, he did it with his wife resulting in Carter. AND ONLY LATER ON, KALAGAN FOUND OUT.

Lets assume that the Locke family was way too well hidden, so it took Kalagan some time to find them.

And when he did, it was poof with Carter's parents

In the end of book 1, Mr. Vernon says he has always been looking for Carter. Kalagan KNEW that Dante would come after him after the news of the Locke couple going missing spread; So he took Carter away, and kept him hidden.

Hidden from Dante, his family, Mineral Wells... And I believe it might have been not only to hurt Dante more, but also to sort of "mock" him. I feel like Kalagan wanted to make Carter suffer as much as possible during those years with him, so he could show him "the crulety of the world" and corrupt him. And also how he'd constantly force Carter to help him steal from others... H wanted to make Carter his assistant, a thief, a criminal, just as bad as he is. So then when he dragged him back to Mineral Wells, he could show him to Dante and be like "yo Dante, look what I did to your cousin's kid I made him emo lol"

Ok, that's it delulu is done.

So... what do yall think?

[dinner-djarin]

dar'manda (Mando x f!reader insert)

Prologue

(Inspired by this scene)

Summary: You've been working as a merchant on Nevarro for years now, only out of necessity. Life really wasn't going your way. At least until the Mandalorian came by your booth. Now he's all you think about, and soon he'll be even more.

Warnings: Probably some swearing (real and in universe), violence (eventually), smut (eventually), No use of Y/N, slowburn/fluff (for the first little while)

Notes: Takes place at the end of season 1, and will mostly take place between season one and two. I have been sitting on this for a while due to some fear about reception by the fandom, but honestly I just need to stop thinking about it so here we go. She's going out into the world, and I hope you enjoy. (Also I wrote this prologue like 2 months ago so it isn't quite where I'd like it to be but if you read this please just stick with me, I swear my writing gets better lol)

You don’t know how long it’s been since you last saw him. Weeks? Months? But you can’t get that damn tin can out of your head.

You really have no reason to be this hung up on him. He’s barely spoken to you, you’ve never even seen his face, so it should be easy enough to move on from whatever childish infatuation you have over him. Right? Maker, what kind of person crushes on a mask and a suit of armour?

But there’s something about him, something that keeps him planted in your subconscious. You’ve tried to find the words to explain it, but nothing ever comes close. You can't even begin to understand how this man has completely overtaken your every waking thought.

He used to come by every couple of weeks, and you’d savour every delectable minute of the interaction, but that was all before shit hit the fan of course. You weren't there to see it but when you came back to work the next day it was all anyone could talk about.

“Apparently the metal man broke some Guild rule, and practically all of the other bounty hunters tried to kill him for it.” You heard over your shoulder. As much as you liked to keep to yourself, you couldn’t help form eavesdropping on a conversation between merchants. You did have a guilty pleasure for drama, probably to fill the uneventful void that your mundane life had now become.

“The Mandalorian? He broke their code then!” one exclaimed.

“I heard he went back for a bounty,” someone else whispered.

“What could make someone do something so stupid?” questioned a merchant lady you already didn’t particularly like.

“He doesn’t strike me as stupid,” you interrupt, trying to stick up for the man you were currently enamoured with. “If he did it, there must be a valid reason.”

“If he did it?” She sneered. “Do you not see the damage he left behind? People will be out of business for sure. It’ll take weeks to clean up the mess he made.”

“Then I guess I hope it was worth it. That it wasn't in vain.” You state, putting an end to the conversation. You hoped the man – that you already liked against your better judgement – wouldn’t cause so much harm without some justification.

In the wake of his rebellion, a covert of other masked hunters revealed themselves, shot up the town, and then vanished without a word. And so did your Mandalorian.

Woah hold on. Not yours. Just one random Mandalorian that you’ve said a handful of words to and have harboured a secret crush over.

From the second you saw him you pretty much knew you were screwed. Between the husky modulated voice, and the broad as hell shoulders, there was pretty much no way to quell the instant attraction that rose up in you. His presence alone was suffocating. Nothing could stop the way your vocal cords tightened to the point of forcing out a soft squeal at his sight. The whole time he talked to you, you could feel his visor latch onto your body – pinning you to the spot.

You thought you might find some relief when he left. Quite the opposite. You couldn't help but gawk at the way his body moved, like he knew he was hot shit. He took your damn breath away. And you were glad to know that he couldn't see your lips part to let out a soft moan, or the way they pursed back together as you unconsciously swallowed the suddenly copious amount of saliva pooling in your mouth. Fucking delicious, you thought, shamelessly.

Maybe it was the fact that you knew he could take anyone down in milliseconds. He was untouchable, and this latest defiance proved that. No one crossed the Guild. Well, no one crossed the Guild and got away with it. But if anyone could, it would be Mando.

And there’s another thing. You don’t even know his name. Which means that you’re forced to call him the colloquial slang that is commonly used by outsiders of the Mandalorian culture. “Mando”. You couldn’t help but think about how it almost sounded like an insult, especially when slurred from the mouth of other criminals. You hated the way people spat the word out at him, obviously trying to get him worked up; to see what he was made of. It made you desperately wish that you had a better name to call him, his real name. An intimate piece of knowledge that you could hold on to, something of him that no one else had.

Maybe that made you selfish. Even so, there was so much you wished you knew about him. He was a complete mystery.

To be fair, he probably didn’t even know your own name. You can't recall him asking for it, or if you ever introduced yourself. You were pretty much a bumbling mess the first time you met him. To the point where even if you had tried to say your name it probably would have sounded like you were speaking Huttese. Although, who could blame you. It wasn’t very conventional to introduce yourself to every customer. The people on Nevarro usually kept to themselves, especially the bounty hunters. There wasn’t much room for ‘customer service’. But damn you wish you had tried to make some sort of introduction. Even if it had come out as incoherent nonsense, you think it may have made talking to him later a bit easier.

However, none of that matters if he never comes back, and you bet he won’t. He’s smarter than that. To pull what he did, he’s probably on the other side of the galaxy right now.

Even so, you’ll miss the shared awkward silences and stolen glances that came with each of his visits. Whenever he’d come into the shop, he’d list off what he needed to stock up on, using the most deep and captivating voice you think you’d ever heard. If he hadn’t had that helmet covering his face, you’d swear he stared right into your soul as he did so. It almost made you weak in the knees every damn time. You’d then rummage through each supply crate and gather the best quality of every item, and finally – just to bring your humiliation to an all-time high – you’d give him a discount for absolutely no discernible reason. He took notice of the reduced price the first time and thanked you, only for you to be berated by your boss once he left. Eventually, to your dismay, the niceties came to a halt. Maybe he forgot what full price was, maybe he just couldn’t care less.

Either way, it looks like you’d risked your job for the last time. It’s a shame. For a planet full of bounty hunters and hardened criminals, there’s actually not a lot to entertain you. A shootout here, an escaped bounty there, but nothing that satisfied your desire for an exciting lifestyle.

The closest you got to that would be each time some wide-eyed, eager, wannabe-bounty-hunter strolled through town looking for a chance to weasel their way up the ladder of the Guild. They definitely thought they were more important than they actually were, and they always made a point of showing off for you. Not that you were anything special, just the closest thing with cleavage usually. They’d probably brag about their rank and their kill counts, things you could not care less about. A few of them actually had the balls to ask you out, but it usually only ended in a free meal or drink. To be fair though that was very intentional on your part. It was fun to play the part of a flirtatious girl from the market for a while, and almost exciting to think about how you were completely screwing over those assholes.

Over the time you’ve spent alone in the galaxy you learned exactly how to read those kinds of people. You knew just how far to go, just what to say or do until you got what you needed. As much as you weren’t a fan of physical affection, you often brushed your target's arm or thigh, played with their hair, or if the situation really demanded it – madeout with them behind the cantina. But you always made a point of stopping before things got too far. You may not be a complete saint, but you knew none of the scumbags you met were worth your time.

You wouldn’t have allowed things to go any further. Not with them. Going any further could only be a letdown, and you were fine to take those matters into your own hands���. literally. You may be a complete flirt, but only as a skill to survive in this grimy and dangerous galaxy. You learned early on that being young and female was a vulnerability. That was at least until you discovered how that vulnerability could be shaped into one of your most valuable strengths.

When you think about him though… well something about him made your entire badass facade disappear into thin air. You lost any cool you had the minute he walked past your vendor. Not to mention that there was something else about him that told you he’d see right through it anyway. Maybe it was the visor. Some special setting to read the level of bullshit.

As far as you’ve seen, he doesn’t take anyone’s shit. He definitely isn’t the type to make others feel comfortable in a conversation. He says precisely what he needs to get his point across, nothing more. Never once had you heard him use more than 10 words at a time.

On a few occasions you were lucky enough to end up in the cantina at the same time as him. Whether you were on a break or entertaining some dead-beat for free lunch, you remember how fast your heart would beat when the glint of his helmet met your vision. You wondered if he noticed your presence, or if he even recognized you away from your vendor at the market.

One time you were in the next booth over. Your spine straightened, and your whole body shivered when he slid into his seat and placed himself directly behind you. The proximity was electrifying. It made every neuron in your body fire rapidly and your blood vessels pump impossibly fast. You were probably supposed to be listening to the slimeball buying your drinks drone on about how impressive his last capture was, but the baritone emanating from behind ensnared every ounce of focus you had.

“I’ll take the highest pay” he muttered through the modulator.

“I do have other hunters, Mando. I can’t always guarantee you get the best of the lot.” replied his employer. A smile maintained on his face even when confronting an unforgiving barricade.

“I’m sure you do. But high price means high risk.” Mando responded. His employer’s confused silence forced him to continue. “Those skilled enough to take on the bounties know better than to do so.”

The Guild leaders' laughter bounced off the walls making many patrons turned their heads, while others continued their business, obviously being used to this behaviour.

You were left puzzled in that moment, completely baffled by this interaction. It wasn't until much later that night when it finally clicked. Although you didn’t know exactly how ranking in the Guild worked, you knew Mando was up there. He had the status to strike fear into almost every other bounty hunter he outranked. Mando had staked his claim long ago, and no one in the Guild was stupid enough to try and take a bounty from him. If he wanted something, he was going to get it.

You’d remember that interaction vividly. Not only because of how close you were to the Mandalorian as you overheard it, but also in service as a reminder to you, proving just how dominant he was in this world. He held power over every member of the Guild, including its leader, whether he wanted to admit it or not. You felt idiotic for not instantly understanding the control he wielded wherever he went. Sometimes it's a wonder how completely oblivious you could be.

Although you certainly were not oblivious to the drastic upgrade he got just before leaving. If you thought Mando was intimidating before, his new head to toe silver armour was sure to strike fear into any of his prey. You remember thinking you saw his reflection pass by earlier in the day, but he quickly dissolved into the shadows, as he often found a way of doing. However, later that night when you had just gotten off from work, he strolled back into the cantina for a new batch of bounties and all eyes were drawn to him. Most eyes were filled with jealousy since – as his employer made clear – he completed the job none of them could. They were probably even more enraged by the fact that he wore his reward back into the room, when most of them would have gladly taken that metal to the highest bidder and sold it for a hefty profit. However, you saw him differently than the rest. Your eyes were fixed on him in fear and in wonder. This metal man, already a force of nature, just became that much more impossible to defeat. As if anything could get to him before, it was clear now that no one could reach the Mandalorian.

But again – it doesn't matter. Not a single soul on Canto Bight would bet his shiny ass walks back into this sector. Not unless he has some kinda death wish…

Turns out he has some kinda death wish.

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

Chapter 1 is up now!

More notes: Hello there! I hope you enjoyed this lovely mess. I'm not the most proud of it, but I do want to continue this story (which I know we've all read 100 iterations of by now). Either way, I'm having fun writing it, so I might as well post it!

I'd love a like or comment if you'd be willing to share, I'm very new to writing so I'd enjoy any constructive criticism (especially on the first few parts, I know they need work, but at this point I just want to stop thinking about it and continue on with the story). Also this will be ongoing, so if you wanna keep reading feel free to drop your @ in my inbox or in the comments and I can tag you when I update!

So long for now my fellow helmet whores!

[fyrapartnersearch]

Flip the script

Ello there >:3 To all of you out there, call me Imp.


I’m a woman, I’m in my twenties and I have a penchant for roleplaying; writing and art. The Holy Trinity if you will. I am a lover of the aesthetic and a proud nerd. One of my main passions being video-games, illustrations, comics, live-action films, series and anime/cartoon shows; everything that shaped me during my years of growing up.


It’s been a while since I’ve posted my first ever ad on any website, and I was positively surprised by the amount of people that have reached out to me.

I’ve been roleplaying for a few years now and gradually gathered a good amount of experience throughout the years, but it’s always fun to meet and learn something new. I have a few original ideas that I’m very interested in trying out. Concepts will be posted down below.



Pseudonym: Imp



Age: 28 years



Experience: 12 years



Preferences: 1:1 Roleplaying



Partner: My partner should be at least 20+ or up. I only accept mature partners.  

Content: Very NSFW (considering it will involve mature topics, violence, fantasy, etc) Timezone: Important to note! I am from Europe, so there might be a sliver of a chance that my timezone could differ from yours.

EMAIL: impish.and.angelic@gmail.com

I am very spontaneous, so I can always adjust to a new setting, depending on how good and compelling the concept is.

Inspirations come from various sources and origins, be it a fandom (an already existing universe) or an original storyline. 


Please read through these paragraphs carefully before you decide to contact me! It’s important to avoid any misunderstanding later! And I would less likely respond to a message with the title ‘Hey, wanna rp?’, or very vague messages that has little to no substance.





°°°·.°·..·°¯°·._.· ☥ ·._.·°¯°·.·° .·°°° °°°·.°·..·°¯°·._.· ☥ ·._.·°¯°·.·° .·°°°



This is a lookout for adult roleplayers who have no issue with NSFW themes and are experienced with darker, more mature plots. 

With that being said, I have very detailed and elaborately written rules and guidelines that convey who I am as a writer, what the partnership entails and what I am looking for specifically. To give you a better understanding of what I’m all about, I have linked a google docs for you to read.:

https://docs.google.com/document/d/1_-wtpMNjBzWRWwEEW3ewwksbY_Q1qrMm_fGIUKd64Dk/edit?usp=sharing °°°·.°·..·°¯°·._.· ☥ ·._.·°¯°·.·° .·°°° °°°·.°·..·°¯°·._.· ☥ ·._.·°¯°·.·° .·°°°

Now to the important bits! 

I’ve been inspired lately… by gritty takes on the superhero genre (cue Invincible or The Boys for example); and sinister worlds revolving around dark medieval fantasy with a more grounded take on characters.


I have two specific plot ideas that I am craving to do, but I am also open and willing to your ideas, additions and personal spin on the story. So if my ideas do not fully suit your tastes, or if you feel the need to add something to make it better, I am always open and willing to plot with you! 
So don’t be shy on letting me know your thoughts, feelings and opinions. We can also make things up as we go... I am more of a go with the flow kind of gal. So nothing here is set in stone.

Idea 1 
A hero not so super: Capulet City; a gargantuan metropolis known for its towering edifices and world-leading economical achievements. Gleaming in glitz and glamour, it was a city forged by gods. To make it in the industry, be it business, acting, art, or music; Capulet was the place to be. But it soon turned into a cesspool of heavy crime and injustice. With each passing year, evil spiked and there was no end in sight.

That was, until the beginning of the 70s, the world’s first superhero descended from another world. His name was “The Sentinel”. Like a whirlwind, he purged criminals from the streets, saved the innocent from certain death, and re-inspired the people to be better again.

After things were kicked into motion, more and more superpowered people and entities made their presence known throughout the world. Some good, some self-serving… and others, ruled by chaos and destruction. The world became a battlefield for gods and monsters, leaving many to worship or fear their superpowered equals. Following the Sentinel’s footsteps, many strived to become superheroes in their own right. But only the Earth’s mightiest were able to become the greatest of them all. Meanwhile, some began questioning the narrative… if things were really what they seemed. Just as the first superhuman made himself public, others followed suit.

Coincidence?

Maybe.

The cases of superheroes being reckless, accidentally killing or destroying other’s livelihoods, even abusing their powers for their nefarious purposes enhanced an ever-present problem. Though not many lived long enough, to tell the truth. Some disappeared off the records entirely; whilst others fell victim to bribery.

Those who have vanished, however, had one thing in common. They knew about an island… an island called “Isla del Sol”.

Idea 2 Sworn through swords: In a faraway land where kingdoms, war, greed ruled, we tell several different stories within that world. Many struggle to live and see another day, whilst others are born into lavish, luxurious lives only very few catch a glimpse of. The continent of Mundus is versatile, governed by nine kingdoms that are mostly united through unstable alliances but would often battle for territory, resources, and riches. It was a brutal world. In only recent years, tensions began to rise between the several kingdoms, as armies and knights became the pawns of wealthy kings and queens. As they drenched themselves in blood and misery, they failed to notice another threat that was on the rise. Magic; a force of both godly and demonic origin. Only a few humans were born with a sensitivity to magic, giving them all sorts of abilities that made the general public fear and hunt them down. Throughout history, magic has been disregarded as a myth. But as days grow darker, magic becomes stronger once more, reclaiming its hold over the world.   Those with magic in their blood, also known as faeys, have been driven to the edge of near extinction, seeking a reclusive refuge in their fortresses, studying the occult and arcane in secret. Thousands of years ago, Faeys learned that with the help of a peculiar mineral, a blackened stone that was carved with various unknown engravings, could give them the ability to transcend their humanity; doubling their powers by a tenfold and turning immortal. But at a price. Apostles, as they are called, are described as terrifying monsters, demons, or creatures of the dark world who were able to assume the original human form, but hold powers beyond imagination, far more than that of a normal faey. That knowledge has been long lost since then when magic had faded from the world. That was… until now.

So that's everything from my side. I hope it sparked some sort of interest. And if you are curious, feel free to message me! :) Best regards, Imp

[phases-of-the-fallen]

Explanation

fandom: alternate timeline of Dreamswap by kai

characters: Waning Crescent, Comet

warnings: cursing, mention of murder and death, 

word count: 2,112

Summary: Waning Crescent and Comet talk about what’s upset WC so much.

“So, are you going to tell me what in the fuck happened on your last mission that freaked you out so badly?” Comet asked after he sat down in his boyfriend’s lap, nuzzling into the other’s chest a little bit. “It’s going to bother me until you spill, and you know it helps to tell someone else about whatever is going on, so that we can figure out how to deal with it.”

Waning Crescent swallowed hard for a moment, fidgeting with his hands for a couple of moments, rolling the pen that he’d been using to sign paperwork for a couple of moments before saying “I had gotten a report that Full, Half and New Moon was in Underswap 7651. I went to check out the report alone, as that particular timeline has been under the protection of JR for decades, and New Moon at least should have remembered that, as I’ve captured him there twice. Although the tacos there are some of the best in the multiverse, so perhaps… That’s why they were there.”

“Uh-huh. Having a run-in with those three - even if they did manage to escape you - shouldn’t have scared you that much though. You’re still all wound up by what happened…” Comet pointed out, wrapping his arms around the other’s waist, wishing he could pet the other’s wings, but the other’s wings were currently intangible so that he could sit on the chair without needing to be on the edge of the seat.

“.... How much do you know about Full Moon? Like his past, before you two met?” Waning Crescent responded - he wasn’t deflecting. He was going to explain - he just wanted to know if Comet had known that Angel had been bonded with a determined spirit and hadn’t told him.

“That his timeline was that endless void that you found the both of us in. He was grieving about something, but he never told me what. Apart from that, I know nothing more about his past then you do… Why? Did he do something weird again?” Comet responded, frowning a little and waiting for Crescent to get to his point.

“Ah… I… I accidentally killed Full Moon. He jumped in front of my claymore as I intended to pin down New Moon and I couldn’t get my blade away in time, and… My blade pierced his soul and he died.” Waning Crescent explained. His voice failing him for a couple of moments “And then a determined spirit - one who Full Moon had apparently had absorbed their soul, appeared and offered their soul to New Moon, who… Who took it. A strange, purple button appeared in front of New Moon and he… He resurrected Full Moon in front of me. Full moon had just finished dusting, and he… He’d come back. New Moon started to laugh and I… I fled the battlefield.”

Comet was still for a very long time, or so it felt to Waning Crescent, before he cleared his nonexistent throat, saying quietly, his voice a little shaky “Okay… So New Moon can resurrect people and has a Determined Human’s soul backing his power now. That… That could be bad, but we’ve dealt with monsters who have absorbed multiple human souls, and -”

“New Moon is not a monster. Neither am I. We have the physical appearance of skeleton monsters, but that’s as far as the similarities go. You’ve seen the shape and color of my soul, Comet. One of the constants in this multiverse is the shape and color - or lack thereof - for monster and human souls. New Moon and I… We were created by the previous guardian of emotions, as she… They? Were dying. She summoned the both of us. We are the… We are positive and negative emotions - and the magical power behind them, given form and substance. I… I may be able to show you my true form, if you promise not to freak out on me.” Waning Crescent explains quietly, fidgeting more intensely with the pen in his hands. It was almost impossible to not look at Comet directly, given that the other was still in his lap, but he was just barely managing it.

"Uhh... Okay? Promise me that like... Your body won't... I don't know... Disintegrate or vanish when you do? Or that you can switch back?" Comet responded after a moment's hesitation, trying to process what his beloved was saying. Waning Crescent had said that he was the guardian of positivity, but he hadn't really known what the other meant. None of them did - though they all felt the uplifting effects of his aura. 

"No, my body won't disintegrate - but as my true form contains the essence of my soul as well as all of my magic, my physical body will go limp and even grow cold and void of my magic, if I leave it for too long. Though that shouldn't be necessary. You may want to get off of my lap, as my physical form will be unable to hold you close during that time." Waning Crescent explained quietly.

“I… Okay then. Thank you for the warning.” Comet responded, part of him wondering if he should maybe convince the other not to do this. This felt… A little bit strange and like the other was making an impulsive and probably bad decision, and he was processing everything else that Waning Crescent had told him.  Comet got up, taking a couple of steps back. “So… You can… You can show me your true form, if you want to.”

Waning Crescent nodded, letting his eye lights fuzz out as he gathered all of his magic into the core of his body, first his soul taking shape, before he pushed himself further from the body. It had been quite some time since he’d done this last, and it was a bit of a struggle at first - but eventually, he was in his original form - a yellow-colored ball of condensed positivity magic and awareness. He floats over to Comet, gently coming to rest on one of the other’s shoulders, letting out a soft trill. He pulses a bit of magic through Comet before returning to his skeletal form “So as you can see… It’s not that a powerful monster is in possession of a determination soul… But…”

“A… A Guardian has absorbed a human soul. And I’m guessing that neither of you have ever done that before - and if the previous guardian did, she or they didn’t ever write down whatever the fuck happened, and if it’s possible to undo it without causing damage, since the two of you still have that weird destiny bond thing that makes it impossible to kill New Moon without it also killing you.” Comet finished, frowning a little bit. 

He had known that there was something odd about boss - but he hadn’t realized just how unique Waning Crescent was - were there other Guardians in the multiverse, perhaps hidden in obscure timelines? Protecting… Who knew what? “But… You mentioned New Moon being in possession of a Button - considering the fact that when he used it, that world didn’t Reset, he doesn’t have the ability to Reset a timeline - thank the fucking stars, as that could cause a shit load of trouble. He used it to heal Full Moon - which will be annoying to try to capture them, since with a press of a button, they’ll be back to full health again…”

“I… You’re right, of course. I probably just overreacted. They have a powerful healing ability that could potentially be a great hindrance, depending on if New Moon can resurrect dead criminals and decides to try to do so in order to create chaos… It’s unlikely, though. He mostly just flees and hides with his companions.” Waning Crescent mused “And no, there are no records of a Guardian absorbing a human soul, not to my knowledge. The previous guardian of the… Of the emotive balance was contemptuous and very wary of mortals - chasing away any who attempted to live near them. They were periodically attacked for the power they held, and was eventually struck down in a battle - though they were able to kill their attacker, before they created us.”

“Huh.” Comet remarked - he’s pretty sure that Waning Crescent is leaving out a few key details, but he’s not going to push for more than the other is willing to share. He already knows far more about the true past of the both of them than… Probably anyone else in existence, with the possible exceptions of Full and Half moon, depending on how much, if anything, New Moon had told them of his past. “So, what’s the plan with the three assholes?”

“I’ll update the orders for the undercover operatives. To watch out for any on The List, but for them to not approach New, Full, or Half moon under any circumstances, and if they are in a timeline for more than a couple of hours, to report directly to me, so that I… I can observe them directly.” Waning Crescent decided, nodding a little to himself firmly, before he asked “Does that sound reasonable to you? We can hope that his new powers only extend to that resurrection ability, but until we know for certain…”

“It’s best to limit the potential damage that New Moon could do, if at all possible. It’s going to take time to spread those new orders throughout our network, but I’ll be sure to send it to the regional heads myself.” Comet responded, turning partially, intending to leave.

“Absolutely not - for one thing, I need to make sure to write down and encode those orders… And another thing is, don’t think I haven’t forgotten that your appointment with Healer Ara regarding your pregnancy isn’t today in less than an hour and a half.”

“Oh come oooon! We’ve known that I’ve been pregnant for what? Two weeks now, at most? I’ll be fine.” Comet huffed, pouting a little that he’d been caught out so easily. He was excited to be carrying a soulling… But all of the information about what he could and what he wasn’t going to be able to do as the pregnancy continued was more than a little daunting “Hey… So uh… Since you’re not… Not a monster or a human, do you think that will affect the development of our soulling?”

“I… I don’t know. It’s one of the things that we will need to discuss with Dr. Ara and their Obstetrics team.” Waning Crescent answered honestly. He was worried about how the soulling would continue to grow - and he knew that Comet was as well.

“Yeah… Still not sure how I’m pregnant in the first place… ‘s not as if I have a soul…” Comet muttered, feeling more than a little self-conscious. He’d kind of assumed that he’d be unable to have kids that way, because of his condition. 

“But the deep scans showed that you did have one at one point… And again, that’s some of the things that will be gone over in that appointment today. Do you remember that Dr. Ara took a sample of your magic to have it tested?” Waning Crescent prodded gently. 

“I… Yeah, you’re right. I’m just… I’m so nervous about all of this - th-though I am excited as well. We… We’re going to have an ankle biter all our own. Look out multiverse, because our kid is going to be one hell of a force of nature. That much I can feel.” Comet answered back, rallying himself after a moment, his eye lights a pair of stars - one yellow, the other blue and purple, a grin appearing on his face.

“Of that, I have no doubt.” Waning Crescent responded with a fond smile appearing on his face, hugging his beloved boyfriend in close, a soft purr rumbling in his chest. “Now… Help me word the updated orders correctly?”

“Eh… You know that sort of thing is not my strong suit. Point me at an AU and tell me who to stab? I’m good. Tell me who to threaten and scare? I’m good. But the whole… Leading a secret service and army with a silver tongue? That’s all you, boss.” Comet grumbled, though he did follow the other back to the desk, claiming Waning Crescent’s lap as soon as the other sat down. It was nice to be close to the other like this, and he hoped that the obstetrics appointment would answer a lot of the questions that both of them had. This new healing ability of New Moon’s could be a pain in the ass… But shouldn’t prove to be too much of a danger...  Right?

[escapewithmewzic]

Week 7:Twitter’s susceptibility to trolls and hate

Troll??

Troll in the social media world means a person who creates discord or conflict on the Internet by posting messages that are controversial and provocative in order to start fights or evoke emotional response from people on the Internet or in simple words,to offend them. Yes it is unfortunate that this kind of terrible people exist. #sadfactoflife .However,to make things worse,the Internet has provided these people the platform to spread hate and malice easier, with almost no consequences in the real world.

If you’re an active social media user, chances are that you’ve experienced trolling in one way or another.

Trollers and the rest of the fandom argue that the insults,threats or provocations are merely forms of mischief and humour and emphasizes on the freedom of speech but for many,the personal nature and the ferocity of the abuse verges on hate speech.Given the right to free speech does not mean you should do it.

Trolling in its extreme form can be a criminal offence. Sean Duffy posted offensive videos and messages on tribute pages on young people who died and one of his unfortunate target was Natasha MacBryde, a 15 year old who was killed by a train. One of his insensitive and thoughtless messages he left on the Facebook page was ‘I fell asleep on the track lolz”.The consequences for being an insensitive idiot : he was jailed for 18 weeks.

Unlike the trolls you see in fairy tales, trolls on social media lurks in the open instead of under bridges or in caves, they wait for the best time to come out with every keystroke,striving to provoke and incite hatred.

According to a research done on comments on CNN, there are two major factors that influences people to troll and the first factor is a person’s mood. It was found that people who were in negative moods were much more likely to troll and this is in sync with the mood patterns of humans which ebbs and flows with the day of week and time of day.

The research shows that trolling happens least frequently in the morning and most frequent late at night. It does not stop there but the heights of trolling is at its most frequent on Mondays.

A discussion’s context is the second factor. I’m sure all of you agrees with this or may have seen this “banter” happening on Facebook or Twitter. Posts that begins with a “troll comment” are more likely to be joined by other users compared to posts that does not begin with such comments. Not only that, the more troll comments there are, it attracts more and more troll comments from users. Trollolol.

It was possible to forecast when a person is going to troll approximately 80% of the time by using machine learning algorithms.The two factors put together is a much stronger indicator of trolling compared to pointing out specific individuals as trolls. Basically,trolling occurs more due to the influence of nurture which relates to the person’s environment compared to any inherent trait.

Ordinary people like me and you *winks* can also be influenced to troll as such behaviour can rub on others.It is due to the emotional response to such comments perhaps written by someone who woke up on the wrong side of the bed leading to comments that reacts towards it and end up having heaps and heaps of troll comments! *tragic*

If such behaviour is left unchecked, trolling can end up becoming the norm in the society.Predicting when trolling will happen can be done better by understanding possible factors that leads to such act.

However, it is vital that we know how to differentiate a troll comment and a comment from someone who just need some help in communicating their ideas better.

The findings of a study shows that high percentage of online abuse happens on Twitter and this is probably due to the anonymity of the platform when compared to other social network sites like Facebook which require users to present their real identity.A study done on 134,000 abusive mentions on social media showed that 88% of them happens on Twitter and the remaining small percentage happened on Facebook and other sites(Edwards 2015). 

A British TV host Sue Perkins, quit Twitter after receiving death threats due to other people’s opinion that she might be a good replacement on Top Gear in place of Jeremy Clarkson.This occurrence of famous people leaving Twitter due to death threats happens very often and the stats of it happening on Twitter compared to Facebook is just beyond words!

I’m sure the question that pops up is why does Twitter face this problem and Facebook does not?It is related to “real identity” where other social network sites require you to show who you really are and this does not really work on Twitter especially.Anybody can sign up with a fake name and an anonymous email address.A trend I find on Twitter are accounts created with a famous person’s name and the content are filled with disses and spiteful comments and so called “banters”.

Facebook prevails when it comes to troll removal. Even though all platforms allow a person to report behaviours that are abusive,Facebook’s follow up is the strongest. You have full control over the comments on your Facebook page where a deleted comment will be vanished from everybody’s eyes unless the troll decided to repeat the same thing. Accounts that are created with fake names or accounts created for the sake of harassing purposes are taken down quickly.I’ve experienced an imposter of myself messaging my friends for a verification code and my friends and I reported the account and in a few minutes,the account was immediately removed!

Trolls value anonymity and seldom confirm their emails or phone numbers and they tend to use the default photo on Twitter which was formerly the famous egg icon.The egg icon was dropped as it has become heavily associated with online abuse which is not fair to those genuine users who are new and have not selected their profile photo.Accounts created to harass others are often not personalized as they don’t really have the time to.However, you can exclude these trolls from your feed by simply going to the Privacy section and select Notifications and mute people who uses a default photo and users who hasn’t confirm their phone number or email.With just a few clicks,you can change your feed from being exposed to all the toxicity.Yes they are still roaming free but why would you care if you can’t see them. Ignorance is bliss. *sometimes*

Twitter is making changes to address abuse and malicious automated accounts in the face of criticism it doesn't do enough to curb harassment and manipulation on its service.

Each week,there has been a dramatic rise in the creation of spam or automated accounts on Twitter. Nearly 10 million potential fake or spam accounts were created weekly, identified by Twitter’s machine learning tools.This is an increase of 3.2 million in September.

Twitter announced new rules where users who wants to join Twitter are required to either confirm a phone number or an email address when signing up on Twitter.Twitter hopes to reduce spam accounts’ visibility by removing their accounts from engagement counts and follower figures unless they confirm their identity(Musil 2018).

Jack Dorsey,Twitter’s CEO asked users for recommendations on how to fix the platform after recognizing that Twitter can be extremely toxic and that his team and he had underestimated the consequences it can have in the real-world. He recognized and has witnessed harassments,abuse,armies of trolls, manipulations and divisive echo chambers that are increasing.

Particularly over the past few years, Twitter takes the center stage for various abuse such as death threats, attack mobs, revenge porn and privacy violations.

Some ways to handle trolls :-

1)Handle them with humour

IMO, humour is the best weapon a person can have! By making light of a troll’s tweet, you’re basically acknowledging and defusing the situation simultaneously.

A grocery chain in the UK, Sainsbury’s, responded to a criticism regarding their chicken sandwich in a lighthearted manner and their response is top class.What’s important here is they did not ignore the customer’s tweet.They apologized,recognized the problem and replied in a witty manner.They managed to turn a criticism into an engagement opportunity.

2) Feed them with facts

A way to debunk trolls and their ‘tales’ is with facts and ‘tales’ here can include rumours and posts with false information or inaccuracies. Do you guys remember when Apple released the iPhone 6 and there were posts and rumours about it bending in your pocket?Thus the birth of the hashtag #bendgate with a lot of trolling on the side.

Many trolls lurking in the Internet was very creative about it and inspired to post their version of it.

Apple took a stand and responded to the criticisms by admitting that it could bend but wouldn’t normally happen with normal use.(obviously anything can bend/break with such force that you don’t usually do to a phone LMAO) #BendGate turns out to be a much ado about almost nothing and Apple received only 9 complaints and openly shared the stats. Addressing the issue head-on was Apple’s tactic to stop further controversies(Rampton 2015).

P.S. I personally think the best way is to just ignore the trolls. 

References

Edwards, J 2015, ‘One statistic shows that Twitter has a fundamental problem Facebook solved years ago’, Business Insider, 17 April, viewed 23 October 2018, <http://uk.businessinsider.com/statistics-on-twitter-abuse-rape-death-threats-and-trolls-2015-4/?IR=T>.

Musil, S 2018, ‘Twitter ramps up effort to combat abusive bots,trolls’, CNET, 26 June, viewed 23 October 2018, <https://www.cnet.com/news/twitter-ramps-up-effort-to-combat-abusive-bots-trolls/>.

Rampton, J 2015, ’10 tips to dealing with trolls’, Forbes, 9 April, viewed 22 October 2018, <https://www.forbes.com/sites/johnrampton/2015/04/09/10-tips-to-dealing-with-trolls/#1b4703bf54f4>.

[lucanogis]

fic: to have and to hold - pt. i

Title: to have and to hold  Fandom: Gakuen Alice Pairing: Hotaru Imai x Luca Nogi Length: 5k Summary: It is a truth universally acknowledged that a spy in need of money must be in want of a groom. Or: Hotaru wants to fund her inventions. A widow wants her husband's murderer. And Luca Nogi? Luca Nogi can't help but want the newest addition to his crew. // Part 2 in the GA-crew!verse, written for @ga-party‘s writing challenge: Wedding AU. 

{ao3} , {ffn}

Chapter 1: The Plan

Apartment 2B is wholly unsuitable to house a bunch of Japan’s most notorious criminals.

Not only does it come with ten discret neighbors, some of which not only share the building with them but actual room walls, it also lacks any of the equipment necessary for Hotaru Imai to create one of her masterpieces. Instead (and she has made it a point to take inventory of all the many useless additions to her new home) it has three separate gaming consoles, an added fridge for “cooking experiments” and a pet raven called ‘Mrs Rogers’. The roof, which is used for training or weapon storage, also features a fake palm tree and a hot tub the size of a small country. It is therefore completely unsurprising to Hotaru that Mikan decided to move in immediately after her first visit.

The far more complex question is why she has decided to move in as well.

It’s been roughly six months since Z, her former crew, chose to not only join The Academy, a merry band of ruthless murderers, but also unceremoniously oust her in the middle of a job. Luckily - or, if her best friend is to be believed, due to fate - she managed to team up with Mikan’s new crew to escape her own death. Said crew, named Nova by its founder and apparent leader (and Mikan’s idiot of a boyfriend) Natsume, has since welcomed her with open arms. It’s not too difficult for Hotaru to see why, given their apparent inability to budget.

But no member of Nova ever demanded that she join them in their apartment. Hiding made sense the first few weeks after her near death experience, sure. But Hotaru had somehow managed to keep her cover during the ballroom altercation and thus whispers of her joining a new crew had been, if anything, little more than an unconfirmed rumor. At first she’d woken up at night in cold sweat, wondering whether Z had sold her identity, whether they would come after her or any civilians connected to her, like her brother. But research had revealed to her that those who knew her by name had been disposed of as well. As such, that particular worry of hers has slowly but certainly vanished, leaving her to focus on her job.

More often than not, Hotaru keeps her hands and her mind occupied with weapon designs. She trains on the roof, getting to know each member of Nova and their unique skills. She goes on missions with them, always conscious of the distrust some still feel towards her and conscious of the distrust she can’t help but feel towards them.

The moments where her thoughts at last quiet down bring her the answer to her own question: Why did she stay in Nova’s apartment? Because, as incongruent as it seems, it makes her happy.

Of the eight, now nine, crew members Nova has, only six regularly live in the main apartment. The remaining two are scattered throughout the city, either by choice or due to an assignment. Hotaru has to admit she doesn’t miss their presence - being roommates with people that aren’t just Mikan is difficult enough. She has to deal with Natsume burning every meal he tries to cook, Misaki and Tsubasa being disgustingly in love and Luca Nogi being, well. A distraction at best and a threat to her sanity at worst.

Hotaru doesn’t pretend that Luca isn’t attractive. She certainly won’t deny that they’ve had sex in the goddamn hot tub she hates so much. And she won’t even lie and say that he doesn’t have the uncanny ability to make her feel calm, regardless of their turbulent job. But unfortunately for him, Luca has one glaring flaw: He is a spy, much like her. As much as Hotaru likes to fuck spies, she doesn’t fuck with them. It conjures up feelings in her heart and feelings conjure up memories; of darkness and blood and screaming until her throat grows raw and - Suffice it to say, she has no interest in attachments. Mikan is fine because Mikan has always been there. Nogi, however, is not a risk she is willing to take.

Hence they’ve agreed on a particular kind of relationship: Professionals, working together, who sometimes have sexual encounters in expensive bathrooms but who do not, under any circumstances, have an interest in anything more. Hotaru is satisfied with that arrangement. Romance, or the illusion of it, will never weasel its way into her life.

Naturally that doesn’t change the fact that only a week later, Hotaru finds herself standing at the altar, with Luca Nogi sliding a ring onto her finger and white chiffon caressing her skin.

Apartment 2B, Tokyo / April 3rd, 2am

“You need to buy the apartment next door,” Hotaru Imai says. She’s seated on one of the living room armchairs, comfortably basking in the final rays of the setting sun. Her best friend is out on a minor reconnaissance mission and she’s lounging in the living room with Natsume and Luca, something she would normally avoid but which has become necessary due to the simple fact that there is something she wants. “Either you do it yourself or I do it using your funds when you and Mikan are busy having alone time.”

“You’d think I get a choice in this,” Natsume Hyuuga, the Black Cat, comments, “given that this is my crew we’re talking about. And my apartment. And my money.”

“Funny,” Hotaru replies, leaning back and taking a sip of her wine. “I think I vaguely remember most of our funds coming in due to inventions I sold on the blackmarket.”

“She has a point,” Luca Nogi says. He’s sitting cross-legged on the wooden apartment floor, his pet raven picking seeds out of his hand. Natsume narrows his eyes at his best friend.

“You’re only saying that because she’s the only person in this apartment willing to play poker with you,” he declares. “Also, where did your loyalty go?”

“I imagine it’s in the hot tub,” Hotaru says. “You know, with the rest of our crew money.”

Natsume rolls his eyes, though with a sense of triumph she notices him wince at her words.

“You see then why I don’t have the money to buy the flat next to ours,” he says.

“I’ll take a job. Something nice and flashy,” Hotaru offers. “Come on, there must be something you’ve decided against that you can dump onto me. This is a simple trade, Hyuuga: You get to send me on a garbage mission no one else is willing to do. I get to use the money we make to buy another apartment and use it as a work space. It’s a win-win scenario.”

Natsume blinks. “When did you get so desperate?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Hotaru says sarcastically. “Probably around the time someone decided to crap all over my laptop.”

They both turn to stare at Mrs. Rogers, who makes a caw sound before flying up to sit on Luca’s shoulder, half hidden behind his blond hair. Her owner grimaces.

“I did tell you to cover up your stuff if you’re not around,” Luca says. “And I also apologized. Like, fifteen times. Today.”

Hotaru rolls her eyes at him before turning back to the Black Cat. “Look, my reasons don’t matter,” she says. “You need an inventor and I can’t fulfill that role properly until you give me space I can actually work in.”

Natsume folds his arms. He looks less than happy about her demand. “Doing extra missions isn’t an option,” he says.

“Well, why not?,” Hotaru asks. “I’m offering to do them. I can handle danger and without proper equipment, that danger’s only going to get a lot worse for all of us anyway.”

“I get that,” Natsume says tightly. His demeanor changes as he squares his shoulders and narrows his red eyes ever so slightly. This is no longer a friendly discussion, she can tell. “But Imai, I don’t have the money to pay for that flat. And as for the missions you’re volunteering for, I decided against doing them for a reason. They’re not worth the risk. I won’t jeopardize this crew. Not for money and not for you.”

Not for her. Of course. With a sigh, Hotaru drowns the rest of her wine. Again and again, she finds that the Black Cat and her have similar end goals but very different opinions on how to reach them. Normally she would continue arguing but in this case she can tell that any further push on her part would only strengthen Natsume Hyuuga’s resolve. Promises of weapons and handy gadgets are apparently not attractive enough for him to take a risk on an operative, even if it’s just his newest one.

“Pity about that exploding pen I was going to build you,” she says casually. Years of spy training are the only reason she’s able to keep the frustration out of her voice. “See you tomorrow. I’m turning in for the night.”

Hotaru leaves her two companions behind, retreating to her room on the far side of the apartment. Once the door is shut behind her, she balls her hand into a fist and punches her pillow, once, twice, a third time. Only then does the anger licking at her throat subside a bit and give way to exhaustion. She drops down onto the bed, staring at the ceiling with a furrowed brow. Six months she’s worked with the Black Cat, but still he’s unwilling to trust her enough to take a few risks. If she wants to go on a more dangerous mission to earn a larger sum of money, who is he to try and stop her? And who is he to doubt her, to think that she hasn’t calculated the risks and rewards of her plan, hasn’t made sure that no harm will come to Nova?

It’s yet another reminder that Hotaru is still an outsider, much like she’s always been.

She blinks up at the ceiling, able to trace every inch of the plan she pinned onto the wall above the bed despite the room’s darkness. She’s working on an intricate fabric, more than five times as strong as the gear they’re using right now, and able to deflect most bullets. The delicate mesh is no weapon but a shield, one that will keep Nova’s agents out of harm’s way. If only she could convince Hyuuga of its merits, make him realize that the money he gives her is money well spent. Perhaps then the suit she’s working on would be finished and the dreams that plague her would disappear. Perhaps she’d no longer wake up wondering whether today is the day she dies, or even worse, whether today is the day Mikan dies.

But the fabric is impossible to make without a proper workbench and bigger tools and as such, it will have to wait.

Closing her eyes again, Hotaru turns to press her nose into her pillow. Yesterday she’d spent the night with Nogi, and the satin under her skin still smells softly of the cologne he was wearing. They’d come from a reconnaissance operation, his hair still tousled from running, and something inside her had quaked at the thought of doing anything other than kiss him.

So she had done just that.

Right here, in this room, in this bed in fact. She’d straddled his hips with her legs, feeling every inch of him beneath her as she pushed him deeper into the mattress, gazing down at his flushed face from above. He’s always blushing, Hotaru remembers thinking, strangely fascinated by the fact that everything he felt was immediately on display.

Sex is always fun for Hotaru. It’s a way to see anatomy in action, similar to watching her inventions do their job. The way muscle moves beneath skin, the way bodies fit together, the way nerves respond if she strokes them just right - The grip of his hands on her hips and the way she moved against him and he moved against her, their breathing labored as it had been when they ran from their pursuers but at the same time labored in a different way, another kind of fight, a primal kind of combat.

After, Luca had almost fallen asleep next to her, curled up on her covers, but Hotaru kicked him out as soon as she saw his eyes fall shut. He stole a kiss from her before leaving, a fast but heated one, something he always does when they sleep together. It’s almost too intimate every time, but she can never quite tell him to stop. In the end, it doesn’t matter. Even if he takes liberties now and then, she controls this little battle of theirs and they both know it.

Hotaru concentrates on relaxing her breathing, allowing the memories of their night together to once more fill her mind. Hopefully thoughts of more enjoyable times will chase away the fear that gnaws at her, the knowledge that one day their lack of money will result in one of them laying on her lap, gasping for breath as they slowly bleed out. Hopefully images of death won’t haunt her again.

Somehow, she doubts it.

Apartment 2B, Tokyo / April 4th, 8am

They’re sitting around the kitchen table the next morning when Natsume announces they’re going to have an impromptu meeting.

Hotaru is sipping her coffee, idly listening as Mikan recounts her mission from the previous night. Tsubasa is sitting on the couch, reading a newspaper with Misaki’s outstretched legs on his lap. Luca is in the process of making pancakes. He turns around at his best friend’s declaration, wearing a quiet smile on his lips.

“What are we discussing?,” Hotaru asks suspiciously. Is the Black Cat going to kick her out because she asked for more money?

Natsume grunts instead of answering. Luca turns to her.

“There’s a mission that we’re perfectly suited for, I think,” he says. “But we still have to vote on whether or not to take the job.”

This is another one of Nova’s oddities: Although Natsume choses which jobs might be suited for them, every member of the crew can veto an operation. It’s a democratic system, Mikan explained to her once. It’s also a hassle every time.

Luca dumps the finished pancake onto a plate and places them on the table. Tsubasa peeks over his newspaper.

“Breakfast done?,” he asks. Luca nods.

With a grin, the dark haired man gets up, unceremoniously dumping his girlfriend’s legs onto the floor. He sits down opposite Hotaru, Misaki following close behind. Once they’re all seated, Luca vanishes for a few moments before returning with a file. Generally, Hotaru would prefer technology over old school materials, but even she has to admit that hackable objects aren’t the best place for sensitive data. Natsume takes the folder from his friend and tosses it on the table.

“Client’s name is Yuki Arakawa, twenty-three years old, born in Nagoya. Met and fell in love with an investment banker by the name of Ichida Seiji when they were both twenty. Their relationship was reportedly great and so they decided to ruin it by getting married as soon as possible. They got themselves a team of event planners and ended up renting D-Lounge, over in Shibuya. Their grand day was looking to be perfect.”

Natsume pulls a picture out of the folder, showing it to the group. On it, a young woman grins widely into the camera, showing off an impressive diamond ring. A man is standing behind her, his arms wrapped around her waist.

“What happened?,” Mikan asks softly. Natsume sighs.

“On their wedding day, a year ago now, Ichida suffered what officials say was a heart-attack. He made it through the ceremony, exchanged vows with his new wife and then collapsed on the dance floor. Medical examiner says the excitement of the day was literally...heart-stopping.”

“It’s not an uncommon cause of death,” Luca notes. “But autopsy reports do show that there was a foreign substance in his blood. When Yuki Arakawa asked the police about that though, they told her that her husband probably just tried to dampen his own nervosity by indulging in some….ah….illegal substances, so to speak.”

“Did he?,” Hotaru asks. A young, overly excited man taking drugs doesn’t seem too strange a story. Luca shrugs.

“It’s hard to say from the medical report,” he says.

“What matters to us,” Natsume interjects. “Is that his widow doesn’t believe the police’s story. She hired a private investigator to dig into the whole thing. And lo and behold, they found something.”

Luca leans back in his chair. With a quick glance at the folder in front of them, he continues.

“Turns out that Himawari Events Management, the company they hired to plan their wedding, have had a number of dead clients in the past two years or so. There’s been a handful of freak accidents, grooms or brides crushed by falling chandeliers, and a couple of strokes and heart attacks. Suffice to say, the whole thing is more than fishy. But when Yuki told the police as much, they send her away. Next day, a couple of goons cornered her on her way back from the cemetery, roughed her up pretty bad. They told her to keep her nose out of her husband’s case.”

“I’m guessing she didn’t,” Tsubasa comments, taking a bite out of his pancake. He leans forward to pick up the picture of the couple, looking at it from up close. “So someone’s making a game out of killing people on their wedding day? Jesus.”

“Presumably,” Natsume confirms. “What Yuki Arakawa expects us to do is find whoever killed her husband and… bring them to justice. She’s wealthy and the job comes with a nicely sized payment. However…”

“However,” Luca picks up where he left off, “This kind of mission would necessitate us going in undercover, scoping out the event planners. Our best shot is booking a wedding of our own and making sure to find the killer before one of us ends up dead.”

Mikan gnaws on her lip thoughtfully. “Natsume and I are pretty well known, as far as operatives go. And you said Yuki Arakawa suspects the murderer has ties to the police. If we show up looking to plan a wedding and they run any kind of background check, we’ll be in serious trouble.”

“Same goes for Tobita or Shouda,” Tsubasa adds. “They have their own cover identities to protect. We can’t exactly send them to find a killer who’s in league with the cops. As for me...” He glances at his leg, where Hotaru knows layers of bandages are hidden under the fabric of his jeans. “I’d volunteer, but I’m still not exactly in top shape.”

“Which is why I didn’t want to take on this job,” Natsume mutters. Hotaru can’t help but stare at him as surprise wells up from within her. So he’s given me one of the jobs he initially refused, she thinks, blinking in disbelief before composing herself.

“If Mikan and Natsume can’t go because their covers were blown months ago,” she muses out loud, “and Sumire and Yuu can’t go because their current identities are too precious to waste on this mission, then our only option is to send in people whose faces won’t get flagged by the cops and whose identity as agents is unknown to them.”

Luca inclines his head, quietly agreeing with her.

“Your cover is intact,” he says. “So is mine. We can go in as a couple, set up a wedding in the next two weeks and keep an eye out for anything that looks suspicious.”

Hotaru finds herself nodding along. “Mikan and the rest can do an in-depth check from here, hack into the company’s business servers. The two of us -”

“Go in as bait,” Luca finishes. “I’m sure the client is willing to fund our wedding if it means she gets her husband’s killer.”

“And all we have to do is go dress shopping and show up on the big day,” Hotaru muses. It’s certainly a step up from getting shot at and crawling through drainage pipes.

A small smile makes its way onto her face. It works, this plan. They’re the right age for marriage and have certainly kissed enough times to sell the whole ‘young couple in love’ thing.

“Won’t two people getting married on such short notice seem weird though?,” Misaki asks. “I mean, I get that there’s shotgun weddings and all that but…Pretending you’re that into each other seems difficult. ”

Hotaru snorts. Getting Natsume Hyuuga to give her this mission was difficult. Surviving up to this point was difficult. Hell, even cleaning bird poop off her stuff was difficult. But pretending to be in love? Oh, pretending is something she has practiced for most of her life, something she has always needed to hide her bluntness and general lack of charm.

“I don’t think it’ll be an issue,” Hotaru says, allowing herself a smug grin.

Apartment 2B - rooftop, Tokyo / April 4th, 10am

After a unanimous vote in favor of accepting the job, Hotaru makes her way up to the roof with a spring in her steps. While it’s certainly true that a job tied to the police will be risky, she’s confident that they’ll have the murderer found and eliminated before any trouble arises. This mission will go wonderfully and it will finally, finally give her the money she needs. She pushes open the door to the roof and steps outside.

With a content sigh, Hotaru walks up to the balustrade and breathes in the fresh morning air. Her victory makes the spring day seem all the more enjoyable. Far below her, the city is bustling with activity, people running to go to jobs of their own, jobs that involve far less death than hers does. Far less excitement, too, she thinks to herself.

Creak.

Hotaru whirls around at the sound and comes face to face with Luca Nogi, his pet raven comfortably perched on his shoulder. His steps must have been silent enough to trick even her expertly trained ears.

“So,” he says. “We found you a job.”

“Thank goodness for that,” Hotaru mutters. “And...thank you, I suppose.”

“You were the one fighting tooth and nail for it,” he reminds her gently. “I did nothing, honestly.”

“Yeah right. Like Hyuuga would ever change his mind just because I asked him to. I can guess that you pushed him to give me what I want, so just accept my honest gratitude while it lasts.”

“I’m guessing I won’t be seeing your honest gratitude all that often, so alright. You’re welcome, Hotaru,” Luca says. He rests his elbows on the balustrade, watching her as she gazes down at the city.

“You must really want some new guns if you’re agreeing to a mission that could blow your cover,” Hotaru comments. He turns his head, a frown on his face.

“Or, you know, I just wanted to help you out,” Luca says slowly.

Hotaru snorts. Yeah right, she thinks. Why else would he defy his best friend for her? It’s not like they aren’t already sleeping together and if there’s one thing she has learned living in a world of spies, it’s that no one does anything without expecting something in return.

“But,” Luca continues, after a short pause. “You are also right about our equipment being bad. And you were right about our budget, too. We’re usually better at keeping it in check, but that’s generally Yuu’s job and he’s not around at the moment. I try to keep an eye on it but...numbers and maths aren’t my strong suit, I’ll admit.”

“Isn’t it Natsume’s job to look after the money?,” Hotaru asks. Luca’s face darkens.

“Natsume has enough on his mind,” he says softly before shaking his head. He reaches out to touch her elbow, turning her gently towards him. “But anyhow, I came up here for a reason.”

“Oh yeah?,” Hotaru says. She has a pretty good idea of what he means by that. Pushing away from the balustrade, she begins walking backwards until she feels the edge of the training mat at her feet.

“We can certainly have a little morning training session. Some close quarter combat. I’ll win, but hey. You get to watch me move.”

This is the part where Luca walks towards her, lets his hands rest on her hip. The part where he kisses her until they tumble onto the mat, their legs wrapping around each other. He wants her, she can tell by the way his pupils dilate ever so slightly and right now, she wants him too, wants to feel the bare skin of the man who is currently helping her get the money she needs. But Luca only blinks at her, his cheeks coloring. He clears his throat.

“As nice as that sounds, I came to ask you a question. I….That is, you….Do you….”

“Do I what,?” Hotaru interjects impatiently. Luca opens his mouth as if to talk, before stopping himself again.

“This isn’t how it’s done,” he mutters, more to himself than to her, before turning around, his blue eyes trailing across the roof.

Hotaru watches him, annoyance rising up within her. Not only isn’t he joining her at the mat, now he can’t even answer her question? She’s about to leave when he seems to find whatever he is looking for. With purposeful steps that make Mrs. Rogers fly up from his shoulder and seek shelter elsewhere, he walks to one of the many tables she’s scattered machinery parts on. He rummages around before grabbing something and turning back towards her.

“My mum did raise me to be a gentleman,” Luca tells her. “Obviously her teachings didn’t always take, I mean she once said to never use violence and to never steal or kill and honestly, now that I think about, she told me not to do any of the things that are now my job, but -”

“Nogi,” Hotaru says icily, interrupting his rambling. “Get to the point.”

“Right,” Luca says. He takes a deep breath and comes closer, until there is little more than a hand length of space between them. Then, he does something that shocks Hotaru.

He gets down on one knee. “Hotaru Imai,” Luca asks, “Will you marry me?”

Out on a rooftop in April, shivering slightly in the cool morning air and wearing yesterday’s hoodie isn’t exactly how Hotaru expected to be asked that particular question.

“This is a job,” she reminds him. “You don’t have to do this.”

“But I want to,” he says. “So, will you marry me?”

The sincerity in his voice merrily skips over all her walls, jumps past all the parts of her mind dedicated to assessing each situation and lands squarely on her heart, making it tighten in her chest. But no, this isn’t, this can’t be sincere. This is part of the act, Hotaru thinks.This is getting into character. She puts on a saucy smile and offers him her hand.

“Why yes, I will” she says, with a brightness that has little to do with the anxiousness she feels.

Luca reaches out, delicately taking her hand in his. His skin feels warm, clammy almost. As though he’s legitimately nervous. With his other hand, he produces the object he picked up from her work table and slides it onto her finger. It’s cool metal, shaped not quite like a ring, more like a hexagon. A steel nut, something meant to hold her screws in place when she fastens multiple pieces of an invention together. She must have left one lying around. Somehow, despite its less than ideal shape, it fits her finger perfectly.

“It fits you,” Luca says, echoing her thoughts. He clears his throat and gets up again, still holding her hand. Then, he lets her go and steps back again. There is a peculiar look on his face, as though he can’t decide whether the metal on her finger makes him happy or sad.

“I guess we’re engaged now,” he says.

“It would seem that way,” Hotaru replies.

With a curt nod, Luca leans forward. His lips brush her cheek, gentle enough to be little more than a feather caressing her skin. Somehow, the touch still manages to make her shiver. Hotaru wonders whether her pupils are as dilated as his were before, whether her desire is clear on her face. It probably isn’t, she thinks. Outwards expressions of emotion were never her thing. But this is acting, after all. She lets herself smile, expecting to see the same expression on Luca’s face as he draws back. Instead, his usually happy eyes are curiously blank.

“Have fun with your morning training,” he tells her, before turning around. The rooftop door falls shut behind him and Hotaru is left alone next to the training mat.

There is a strangeness to the whole situation that she can’t place her finger on. This morning, after realizing that Natsume had given her a mission because Luca pushed him to do so, she’d felt a gratitude towards him that was difficult to put in words. And then he’d agreed to enter into this fake marriage with her, to pursue the killer and finish the mission by her side. Despite her insistence that they not grow attached, he’d done his utmost for her.

She finds herself staring at the improvised ring on her finger. When he first gave it to her, it was still warm from being kept in his palm. Now the metal is cold. Hotaru pulls up her shoulders in an attempt to let the feeling of wrongness slide off her back but it sticks like oil to her skin. Still, she forces herself to smile. The money she needs is so close, she can almost smell it and her brand new fiancé’s behaviour can’t dampen her excitement.

There is however one thing Hotaru can’t help but notice: Somehow, getting engaged to Luca Nogi feels less intimate than all the moments they shared before.