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v3nusaphr0d1t3 · 4 years ago

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i’m in love with a stripper

crossposted on ao3: <3 rating: mature warnings: strip club environment, suggestive themes (no actual smut tho) gender neutral stripper!reader x hawks. afab implied but can be read either way.

your job was to look good, feel bad, and entertain. in the most literal sense.

life as an ‘exotic dancer’ wasn’t nearly as glamorous as movies and shit made it out to be. your body ached constantly, you had nearly fought about 4 people in the past two weeks, and you came home in the morning smelling like alcohol and sweat and some random cologne. the pay wasn’t amazing on its own, so you had to rut yourself against old men to pay your rent.

and yet, it was addicting in a way you couldn’t exactly explain. you had wanted to work in the entertainment industry since you were little, a star up on the big screen. this was sort-of similar. you had eyes on you at all times, and it was your job to put on a great show. but instead of red-carpets it was party favors and gross back-room carpeting.

it was good workout, and you knew you looked good enough to taste, so that was always a plus. tonight, you were all dolled up, one of your more femme looks. your shorts were riding low on your hips, yet still stopped so high on your legs that it could be considered more of a belt than a pair of shorts. your thong straps framed your hips, bright red in comparison to the blue jean shorts. you had a red bikini top on, and a crop top that was yet again just another shred of fabric framing it. your shoes were red and tall enough to make you feel like you were on top of the world.

you had gotten used to the sashay and drama of all the bullshit presentation, perfected your sultry stare, and polished your pole skills. yes, you could use work. but so could everyone, it was an art that you were still constantly trying to learn more about.

so as you walked your way out on stage on a busy friday night, you could tell that tonight would be a good tip night. first off, there was MUCH more security than normal, which meant that someone important was probably in attendance for some kind of ‘special night’. they got bachelor parties and birthday parties all the time, but usually they weren’t this… guarded?

it was strange, but you instead focused on feelings the rhythm in your bones as you strutted your way up to the pole, starting to go into one of your choreographed routines that you knew like the back of your hand. though you supposed you could throw in some more risky moves, for whoever was currently paying for your console gaming subscription. being in the air was always exhilarating, but you were always worried about flashing too much. you knew that it would happen eventually, but you would still prefer for it not to.

you spun too fast on your way down and got that wobbling feeling in your stomach as your heels hit the stage a bit too hard to be ‘graceful’. oh well, you thought as you moved to the more floor-based part of your routine. you brought your hands up, running them over your body and pulling at your crop top, pulling it off and throwing it further back on the stage to be retrieved when you were done with your set.

you made it slow, teasing, swaying your hips to the beat of the song and running your hands back down, under the strings of your thong to snap them against your hips. it was effective, but it was hard not to wince in annoyance. you were too salty to do this shit. it was a lucky thing that you were so good at acting. you slid further onto your knees, back arched as you looked some random guy that was halfway decent and crawled forward. that was something that always racked in tips. it made folks feel engaged with the whole experience. the guy held up a 20 and you stuck it under your thong strap, moving to collect more of the money that had been thrown at you.

you were honest with yourself when you said you loved the attention that this job brought. there were many people out in the crowd that wanted you, that sat in their chair or stood amongst the sweaty crowd with a white-knucked grip and lust in their eyes, and you ate it up. you loved being wanted, it was one of the worlds wonders.

eventually, you finished your set, hair tousled from flipping it, back of your knees and your hands sore from gripping the pole, but ultimately you felt invigorated. energized. like someone had wound you up like a toy. and now you had to pounce on someone in hopes of attention and the money you needed to buy that new game you had been saving up for. comical.

you could tell a bunch of the dancers were anticipating the party that was in tonight. it was obvious they were important, and important people had money. so the dancers that weren’t on the stage currently were prowling around the VIP area, looking to advertise themselves.

you decided to do the charity work and tend to the rest of the forgotten crowd. you knew from experience that eventually the richer guests would get tired of giving their money away and eventually leave. and the rest of the crowd was just sitting there, so you slipped your way in to the seats that were closer to the stage (shitty stripper etiquette, but some of thesen dancers were fuckin’ shady sometimes) and found some dude who looked wimpy enough to play the whole deity act with.

you walked your way around the chair, placing your hands on his shoulders and beginning to rub them, your hand making it’s way down his chest as you whispered a greeting in his ear. you used your other hand to run through his hair, plucking the bill in his hand out of his hand and into your g string on your hip with the rest of them. you moved back around the chair and plopped down on his lap, feigning interest and asking him about his day, making him feel special with the whole shebang. you eventually were able to make quiet some money from that guy, surprisingly. and you left him alone and unsatisfied when the lights dimmed between sets.

now, to find someone else out of sight of the first guy. you were on your way to do that when something caught your eye. a glimmer of gold, no- not metal, someones eyes. you were momentarily mesmerized before you realized that the person attached to those honey irises was staring at you. at you. from the VIP booth. while you were in the middle of the crowd. you were never flustered, so it was new when you felt a heat in your cheeks.

you quickly put your act back on, throwing him a wink. he made a ‘come here’ motion with his finger, but you gave him a playful grin and a little teasing wave of dismissal. you had no idea what came over you to do that, but you decided to stick with this little ‘hard-to-get’ persona, and you disappeared into the crowd.

not 10 minutes later you were grinding on some guy through your shorts, just to work that 50 out of his hand. he was one of the assholes that would promise and never give. it was hypocritical for you to think that way, you supposed, but it was your job. either way, you got it from him by nosing up his neck (too much cologne) and giggling in his ear. and he put the bill in your g-string himself. gross.

you slid away from him between sets like you always did, and once again felt the heat of eyes on you. this was different, however. it wasn’t like the usual eyes on you, the gazes you had grown to crave and expect. this was predatory. you were being watched like a hawk. you spun around to find him staring at you again, this time split off from his little friends and instead sitting in a chair further back from the stage. he gave you a certain look and raised his hand, waving a bill in his hand. like bait! that was hotter than it should have been.

still, decided to make your way over to him, stopping in front of his chair, towering over him in your platform heels as he sat in the chair. he didn’t seem too physically imposing, but his energy was cockier than shit and you could tell he was bulked up. you usually didn’t fuck with these types, but something about him was just magnetic. it was insane. he leaned back in his chair, obviously insinuating that he wanted the same treatment as the others. you instead took a singular finger and raised his chin up to meet his eyes as they ran you up and down.

and that was when you realized, under the dim lights, that you were a complete and total idiot. you hadn’t even realize that the man in front of you was hawks, number two pro hero and the man too fast for his own good. you tried not to make a face, but you knew he could most definitely see in your eyes the minute you put the puzzle pieces together. what the fuck was he doing in a place like this?

“what the fuck is someone like you doing in a place like this?” you asked, coming out of your mouth before you could really stop yourself. he only chuckled, grinning as you felt his jaw tense against your finger. the main reason you didn’t recognize him is because there was a lack of giant red wings.

“what anyone else is tryin’ to do. have a good time! it’s my friends birthday, i have a life outside work, you know?” his voice was barely heard over the pounding of the music and the bass rattling under your feet.

“what about your reputation? i’m surprised there isn’t a line to gag on your dick at this point,” you held no filter in speaking to him. you never had it with anyone else, really, and what was so special about him? he was just another dude in the club, so you did what you always did and slid into his lap, pressing your bodies together in all the ways you knew did the best. you watched something flash in his eyes as he bit his lip for a moment. he looked back up to meet your eyes again.

“well, how long did it take you to recognize me? and you’re sober, aren’t you?” hawks brought a sculpted arm up to wrap around your waist, and you slapped it away as you worked your hips against his to the beat.

“no comment. and no touching, unless you want to pay for that too.”

“i might just have to. what’s your name, gorgeous?” his face was too smug for a man who could buy the building, yet completely in the the eye of the public had a semi hard-on for a stranger in some daisy dukes.

“i don’t know, what’s yours?” you asked, raising your eyebrow. you didn’t know his real name, no one did. it was a mystery highly speculated about online, not that you checked or anything.

“fair enough, fair enough. pick one before i blow a couple hundred on getting free roam to touch you.” he said, rolling his hips up to meet yours. this shocked you, catching your breath, and you knew he had noticed by the shit-eating grin he wore.

you gave him your stripper name. it was sufficient enough to add another layer of mystery, because even though you were in his lap, you wanted to keep up this game of cat and mouse. predator and prey.

the thought of that made you tingle. you told him your rates, and he forked it over quite a fuckin’ bit. you stood up from where you were sat in his lap (thought the loss was more upsetting than you would care to admit). you took his wrist (his hand was big) and started to drag him back to one of the more secluded areas.

you had to pass the VIP area to do that, and when you did, you heard a shout. it scared the shit out of you for starters, but hawks seemed to recognize the voice. it was coming from a woman with white hair and rabbit ears, currently cheering hawks on.

“fuckin’ get some, dude!” she said, and her voice was strangely familiar as hawks flashed an award-winning grin and a thumbs up. you winked at her and pulled hawks on with you.

you pulled him into a pseudo-room in the back. not cut off by doors, but isolated and split off by room dividers. you pushed him back onto one of the booth-like seats lining the wall.

the music was quieter back here, and it was easier to hear yourself think. the lights were dim and the bass was still thumping through the floor. there was no one back here, just you and him.

“ ‘kay, so i’m technically not supposed to let you touch me, but you just paid for my groceries and they don’t really check the cameras here. also, you’re cute.” you rambled off, more genuine and clearer now that the music wasn’t so intense in the middle of the madness. and then, catching the beat, you started your ministrations, rolling your hips against his and hearing his breath catch as you wrapped your arms around his shoulders.

“so i’ve been told,” he says with a shit-eating grin.

“don’t let it go to your head, princess.” you said, and he didn’t reply, too focused on oogling you.

his hands came up to hold your waist, and he put his effort into moving along with you, and his grinding did not go unnoticed. or unappreciated, for that matter. with his hips at your waist, he raked his thumbs under your thong straps and snaps them against your hips like you had earlier. it earns a breathy chuckle from you as you watched his pupils pin. you pulled back, standing and watching his face sour as his hands were pulled from your waist. but you decided to give him a little show, just ‘cuz you had a case of the hots for him and the way he was looking at you was much appreciated.

you now stood in front of him, towering above him as you toyed with the waistband of your daisy dukes. he simply bit his lip, practically eye-fucking you. it was exhilarating. you enjoyed the lustful gazes from customers, but this was on a different level. you felt truly alive, and yet like you were melting all the same. your insides felt gooey but you kept your perfected expression hard, movements practiced, sex appeal seasoned to flawlessness. and now you unbuttoned your shorts, pulling them down to reveal your bright red thong, hips, legs and torso all one long line. he looked at you like dinner and you were fucking living for it.

you kneeled inbetween his legs, laying your head on one of his thighs in the way you knew drove people crazy.

you heard a small “god damn,” exit his mouth as he looked at you, entranced as you caught his t-shirt on your way up his body with your teeth, pulling it up and dropping it back down, promptly standing up to slide backwards into his lap. you roll your ass where you know it’s appreciated and hear his breathing speed up behind you. you can practically hear his heart pounding to match your own, like a drum to the beat. your body laid down the bass, your eyes were the melody and he was drowning.

and when it was all over, poor guy walked out of the club with his fellow semi-disguised pro-heros with a raging hard on.

and later on, when you were pulling all your money out to count it, you caught a piece of paper rolled up along a $100 bill. it was his number. a pro-hero gave you his number. that was risky, especially in the type of place they were in.

you liked the risk he took. you put his number in your phone.

#hawks #bnha hawks #bnha x reader #bnha x gn reader #hawks x reader #hawks x gn reader #takami keigo #keigo x reader #keigo x gn reader

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ferret-not-microwave · 4 years ago

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Les Amis Modern AU: What They Wish Others Believed About Them (Part 4)

[I kind of wrote this in response to some general trends in characterising the Amis. There are some stereotypes which I'm not quite comfortable with.]

[So much delay. Sorry.]

Joly:

• Really, really wishes that people don't laugh at him for his anxiety issues. He is truly terrified of getting infected with some disease or the other, and even more terrified of spreading it to Joly and Chetta. It doesn't help that he is one of the most sincere students of the lot, and spends a lot of time reading medical journals, which feed into his panic. He feels safe wearing masks, using rubbing alcohol (or wearing gloves), and having a bag full of basic first aid supplies, and gets embarrassed if anyone judges him for it. Also, he doesn't like it if "concerned" people ask him whether he had a past history of debilitating disease or something, he doesn't want to discuss it at all, okay? -_-

• When Joly fusses about illness in the Musain, it is him letting his guard down. He has to actively rein in his anxiety to function in the hospital, and gets super exhausted from hiding it. His tells in the hospital are are wide eyes behind his protective goggles and a compulsive toying with the wristband of his gloves. He's one of the most courageous individuals ever because of what he faces on a regular basis. He hopes that he might get some reassurance from the Amis to stop his spiralling thoughts, and he mostly gets it.

• Joly definitely has a wild side, and is more than his anxious, serious self. If there's one who can one-up Courf's cheesy pick-up lines, it is Joly. With a eyebrow quirk that leaves everyone giggly and blushing. If there's one who can set a Karaoke stage on fire (not literally, that would be R), it's Joly. If there's one who can down shots to match Bahorel, it's Joly. The one who is the most eager to go skinny dipping? Joly. The one who is, oddly, the most eager to break a pinata? Joly. Joly is more than a "quiet science nerd who checks his tongue in the mirror all the time".

• Joly and Ferre INSIST that they do not talk about random medical trivia all the time. Honestly, their shared interests involve Jane Austen and massive amounts of gossip with tea, along with Doctor Who, Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchett. MASSIVE AMOUNTS OF TEA, IN EVERY SENSE OF THE WORD.

• There are days he wants to tackle people like an angry Pikachu. But real life is tough, and not everyone has the privilege of confronting people. But he really, really can do without people casting aspersions on his poly relationship with Bossuet and 'Chetta ALL THE TIME. He has been confronted as an "opportunist" in Pride walks, faced with people's pitying look to Bossuet or 'Chetta as though he is stringing them both along or "sharing" 'Chetta with Bossuet, cheered on and slapped on the back by straight cismen for "knowing how to have fun", and once directly asked if he's the one who will marry 'Chetta. He goes into panic often, and for the longest time thought himself a really awful person.

• Beware a Joly in a farmer's market. Not because of haggling, but because some people ALWAYS assume that he's amazing at math while he actually fumbles at the cash counter. Similarly, he hates it if people crack shady jokes about him being a Marie Kondo around him (just because he likes neatness AND MARIE KONDO THANK YOU VERY MUCH). And no, he doesn't like rice all the time.

• Please give back the Tupperwares. Unlike popular opinion, Joly won't chase you down for his Tupperware like some do, and isn't particularly possessive about them. That doesn't mean that he can replace misplaced Tupperwares for all eternity, please. ;_; (Same goes for the beeswax food wraps and dino bandages, c'mon peeps don't help yourself to them indiscriminately ;_;).

• Apart from his baggy sweatshirt and dinosaur pajamas aesthetic, he also has a dress shirt and pleated pants collection that would probably leave Jay Gatsby jealous AF.

Bossuet:

• Is really self-conscious about his receding hairline. He had taken to shaving his head to make it look cool, because he's really uncomfortable with weird jokes about his age and baldness. Shaving heads is pretty high-maintenance at times, and he's slowly opening up to let the hair grow back on the sides of the head for the heck of it. He used to have a large collection of hats too, which he still uses occasionally, but now it is just a fashion accessory, not a way to hide. He likes scarves as well.

• He used to flinch and swallow his discomfort when people would touch his scalp without permission, now he firmly brushes off their hands with a light scowl.

• Similarly, he hates it when people actively try to compare him to Joly. He hates being considered less successful, a "third wheel" to Joly and 'Chetta and someone who can be taken less seriously. This doesn't mean he is jealous or angry with Joly at all though.

• He feels really, really angry when Joly sometimes breaks down in front of him and 'Chetta when confronted with comments on their relationship. He can and will stonewall anyone who hurts either of them.

• Bossuet understands Joly's anxiety because he faces anxiety as well. He often gets nightmares of his "bad luck" turning batshit Final-Destination-esque and resulting in horrible accidents to Joly, 'Chetta amd the rest of the Amis. He knows the "bad luck" jokes are good humouring, but it wears him down a lot in exam/interview/work meeting weeks and leaves him third and fourth guessing himself. He had also entered a bout of depression because the "bad luck" jokes had convinced himself that he can't progress in life because what's the use. It took a lot of work and, oddly, a super niche article from the Amis blog detailing research on how some societies actively ostracize people for being "unlucky" and how it is linked to major societal oppression, to help him.

• Bossuet loves having a heart of gold. Sometimes some people tell him not to be so nice ("what if that person has cheated you off money with a sob story?"). He refuses, because he cherishes being nice and knows his limits. He sometimes worries if he's being stupid, like when the great "attendance-by-proxy" disaster happens. But Marius' broad and grateful smile, "hi, how are you doing?" texts every morning, and monthly batch of AMAZING chocolate cookies makes it worth it.

• Bossuet's accidents do lead to some happy accidents. He stumbled on a whole new recipe of gooey brownies by accident. An amazing combination of dark chocolate and red chilli peppers (maybe not so weird in retrospect)? By accident. He fell upon Courfe's sandcastle once, but it resulted in a rare hermit crab crawling out. Courfe gave a treat at the new brunch place he was saving up for, because apparently that hermit crab had made Ferre all starry-eyed and happier than he had been in weeks. And as for the rest pf the accidents? Nothing that duct tape , 'Chetta, Joly and occasionally Feuilly can't help with. In all, his accidents are always smallish, and never monumental.

• Bossuet can put 'Chetta and Ferre to shame with his eyebrow raising (at least occasionally? Hehe?). He does that a lot when people ask him if he has put water on fire or has fallen into wells. "Like bruh? I don't go anywhere close to wells, I love sidewalks and what's with everyone asking me about the kitchen being on fire?" He also does that a lot to piners (R, Ep, Courfe, 'Parnasse).

• Bossuet is one of Enj's closest friends in Law School (apart from Courfe), because Law classes and shared optional papers. Duh. They often have long discussions which are super pleasant, fluffy, yet sensible because of his really sensitive optimism. Bossuet's unorthodox insights make their way into Enj's notes for ABC meetings, and he credits him always. Similarly Enj bails him out with attendance issues. Bossuet often calmly advices him about R. Since Joly has a similar relationship with Ferre, Bossuet and Joly sometimes help Enj and Ferre sort out lingering grievances between them, or plain hear them out. Enj and Bossuet have Froyo days.

Musichetta:

• Loves, loves, LOVES books. Has no idea why people think nerds come in a kind of stereotype only ("I don't look like you", she complains to Joly and Ferre one day, "but I can defeat you two in a Jane Austen quiz WTF!" They agree emphatically, and Ferre adds "and maybe Jehan too. Maybe".). She is a massive sucker for Comic-Cons and hates men who try to prove otherwise. -_- She loves libraries as much as she loves bars.

• Has no idea why people think she's super bitchy or about to eat them up. Many people plain run when she so much as looks at them while doing a shift as a barista in the Musain. Or ask for "the nicer barista" (Cosette?). When she breathes a sigh of relief when someone treats her nice, she also braces herself for self-righteous "saviours". "Are you sure you are doing okay with those men?" "They are using you!". If she poured milk all over a client's trousers because of such a comment not-so-accidentally, no one needs to know. ;)

• Sometimes, she feels drained out. Having to support both her partners anxiety can leave her down too. They are amazing people, who love her a lot, and know that she needs her recharge time. Often Bossuet takes over in caring for Joly and vice-versa. 'Chetta has a small arrangement with Courfe on those days. If he has free time, the two of them go for an amazing, super relaxing spa session. Bahorel is back-up spa partner. The two of them know not to ask questions, but let her unwind her thoughts and air them out.

• 'Chetta joined Les Amis L'ABC much later. One of her pet peeves were when Joly or Bossuet would go to protests which could easily turn violent because of right wing trolls and the police swarming the city. Specifically, when they went without more than a word or two to her. She would get worried sick, particularly if they couldn't pick up the phone within half an hour of the protest ending, and would cry alone because she didn't want to come off as needy and one of those people who do not support their cause.

• She finally broke down before them after Bossuet had a small concussion. They were really shamefaced at having not thought about her feelings, and their apologies ran for hours. While Joly promised to regularly give her updates, Bossuet asked her to join the ABC if she is comfortable with it. It took time for her to accept that she was being in the group because of the cause and not because she wanted to helicopter-mom Joly and Bossuet, but when the next protest happened, she realised that she was in a place she always wanted to be in.

• The Amis thought that she was a member anyway. She would holler at

• 'Chetta hates it when people think that it's Joly or Bossuet who end up lavishing gifts on her all the time. True, they do, but she does it too. She's a sucker for thoughtful gift giving, and she spoils the Amis A LOT OF TIMES. She can scour the Earth for ideal gifts for her boys, and she often takes care of a stray bill or two, as much as she humanely can. She doesn't play a one-upping battle of gifts though, she just loves a lot.

• She is really self conscious about her small hands and tiny feet. Which seem to her too small in comparison with the rest of her body. Sometimes she used to wear really fluffy mittens in winter to hide how small her hands her. Not so much now. :)

•She confided to Jehan that she didn't like people romanticizing her small hands and feet because she thought they were putting unrealistic standards of the "frail beauty" on her when she was anything but. She said this after she heard R chortle about how Joly had introduced her as having tiny hands and feet. The discussion ended in her gaping and then crying out of laughter because (according to Jehan) apparently Joly was really drunk when he first talked to the Amis about her, and had also said something like "she has fortune-teller eyes, yannow! Ask Bossuet! And her dimples! Marius, you booby, you pool noodle, I know how you feel like when you met Cosette!"

Apparently Bahorel had replied with "you need new pants" and then started laughing like no tomorrow. Bossuet, not so drunk (because he was late to the party), had taken the sensible route and shown the Amis the picture the three of them took after their first date.

• Seriously, she knows zilch about tarot cards or natal charts.

#les amis #les amis d'abc #les miz #les miserables #joly #bossuet #musichetta #undoing poly stereotypes #anxiety #we love them don't we?#stop bald shaming #stop laughing at anxiety #don't judge #ferret's freshly microwaved post

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enternalempires · 4 years ago

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Those Eyes

This is a Ladynoir/Adrienette fic. It has switched Miraculous and a reveal and Marinette purring, lol. Lots of fluff. Hope you enjoy! Haven’t figured out how to use links yet but my Ao3 username is the same!

We all know that Plagg with Marinette would be chaotic as all hell, like she’d mention a very very bad course of action that would have us all going ‘second-hand embarrassment, no!!’ but that sarcastic little shit of a Kwami would be like, “Yes!! Do it!!!” because like, after eons of being alive and literally killing the dinos off along with various other disasters you just learn to not care anymore. And Adrien with Tikki would be chaotic in a different way. They’d be so?? Productive??? Like, they’d agree on so much and just vibe that it would be pure sunshine magic. Like, there’s a reason why they got the humans that they did.

Marinette shrieked, scrambling past a car that was picked up and thrown in her direction— successfully dodging any debris and sharp objects left over from the Akumas wake.

At eighteen years old, she knew better than to take off her earrings.

She knew she shouldn’t have, even if it was Adrien Agreste who asked her to change them out, promising with his life (as she made him do) that they would be safe in his bag. She knew that having a photo shoot with him and she in her original MDC designs shouldn’t have made her heart flutter but it did.

They were modeling together.

God, if the fifteen-year-old her could’ve predicted this, she would’ve melted in her spot.

But she didn’t.

And she also didn’t predict that Hawkmoth would choose absolutely the worst time to put an Akuma out into the streets of Paris, but she wasn’t surprised. Her luck as Ladybug never passed over into her life as Marinette— ruler of clumsiness and bad decisions.

Marinette knew she needed to get back to Tikki, she needed to find her earrings and quickly put them on.

She just didn’t expect to find the car that Adrien’s bag had been in to be completely destroyed with its contents spewed around the street.

Oh, she was screwed.

“Tikki,” She hissed, getting onto her knees and ignoring the glass that stuck into her palms as she shifted through all the now unrecognizable car’s contents. “Tikki, where are you?”

“Oh, this is golden,” A voice cackled from behind her and Marinette whipped around— coming face to face with a tiny black Kwami with glowing green eyes and a long tail. She blinked once, twice, and then noticed the bright silver, almost white ring he was carrying. “You’re Sugercube’s babybug, huh? Oh, loverboy is going to get a kick out of this.”

She gaped, unsure about how to continue.

“Do you have cheese?” He asked, scowling when she shook her head. “Great. What use are you then?”

“Uh…”

This was Chat Noir’s Kwami?

He seemed… completely opposite of Tikki.

“Well, aren’t you going to torture me now?” He asked, floating up to her face— his sardonic tone deepening as he lazily landed in Marinette’s palms as soon as she offered them up to him. “I’m Plagg, by the way. Why did you take the earrings off?”

“Urm, I’m Marinette and Tikki didn’t want me to but I kinda… I had this photoshoot thing that I had to switch them out for. So I did.”

“Oo! A rule breaker! I like you. My human is a goodie-goodie, unless it comes to you. He’s so in love that it’s revolting.”

“Not good at the emotional stuff, huh?”

“Nah, cheese is my love.”

“Oh,” Marinette raised an eyebrow. “Not the tiny goddess that calls you Stinky Socks?”

Giving her an eyeroll, Plagg huffed out, “Can you just say ‘claws out’ already?”

“Is there anything I need to know regarding Chat’s powers?”

“Be careful when you’re jumping around and moving, it’ll look a bit different than usual and you’ll be faster.” His voice was so bored that she couldn’t help but to giggle. “I’m awesome, so you’ll also be able to hear a lot better and see in the dark. Also, people will smell.”

“Excuse me?” Marinette blinked. “Smell?”

“Yep.” The black cat yawned exaggeratingly. “Loverboy says you smell good or whatever. Also, don’t ruin everything.”

For whatever reason, that made her cheeks flush and Plagg laughed, his cackle creating goosebumps to go over her skin.

He felt powerful— like destruction and death and sadness. He felt like he could destroy the whole world, like he could send it into a proverbial darkness, and Marinette was reminded of Paris drowned in water, and the moon cracked in half in the sky.

It was terrifying.

Plagg was terrifying.

Tikki felt light, like home.

Like life and warmth and creation and happiness. Her power was intimidating, it was skin-tight and heavy and weighed down her shoulders with a burden she never wanted but bore anyways.

Marinette wondered how his magic would feel after she transformed and looked around. The destruction still damaged around her, but she was hidden by three toppled over cars and couldn't see anyone through the cracks.

“Plagg,” She slipped the ring onto her middle finger, watching as it turned smaller and shone in a soft sky blue color. “Claws out!”

The power that overwhelmed her made her feel unbalanced, her head swarming like she was twenty feet underwater, the pressure pounding around her in all directions.

Being Ladybug felt suffocating sometimes. It felt like responsibility and trauma walked beside her every day.

But wearing the Black Cat Miraculous?

That felt like drowning.

Like devastation was clinging to her.

How did her kitty deal with this? With feeling demolition wreck havoc through his veins on an almost daily basis?

Ladybug— or well, she couldn’t be ladybug anymore— sucked in a harsh breath and looked around. The world was just… in ruins around her but it was more vivid than anything she experienced. The sun shone on everything brighter, the shadows almost nonexistent and the details— god, she was starting to see why Chat stared so much.

Taking her baton into her hands, the young heroine saw that the silver was the same color that the ring had turned into, a soft sky blue, and noted that in the light it glowed with an azure flicker.

Strange.

Turning around with a flinch as a loud boom followed by multiple screams rang throughout the street, the heroine had full intention to join in on the chaos and to hopefully find Chat— until she caught sight of herself in an upside-down car’s windshield.

She stood there gaping.

Unsure.

What the…

She wasn’t really sure what to expect, maybe an exact replica of Chat’s outfit, maybe her outfit as Ladybug but cat-themed but not… not this.

Her eyes were the same color but brighter, the iris having a deep blue ridge to them and the white part of her eyes were a slightly lighter shade. And her pupils— her pupils are slitted!

Wait.

Does that, does that mean that… that Chat’s eyes are normal now?

Ignoring that thought, she looked at the rest of her.

The suit was still the same black leather that her partner wore but with an azure shine to it. Around her neck, there was a dark blue bow with three loops made out of what seemed to be a soft and a baby blue bell in the middle.

Around her waist was the same blue ribbon that wrapped around her twice and then swished around her hips and extended towards her ankles in her ‘tail’.

Tail.

She had a tail.

Her eyes flew back up to her hair and her hands instantly shot up to her ears— leather ears exactly like Chat’s but they had light blue tips. They flicked and she felt it. She grabbed them with her hands and she squeaked.

How does he live like this?!

Instead of her pigtails, her hair was down to her shoulders with two thin ribbons going down to her shoulders. Her bangs were still present but the little hairs that used to frame her face on either side of her head and in front of her ears were now three curved whisks of hair that almost made her think they were supposed to resemble whiskers.

Her hands had claws, her wrists had ribbons and a small bow on them, as did her ankles— and her feet were shaped into paws!

Hopping on one foot, she saw the ‘toe beans’ on the bottom of her sole and squeaked rather loudly again.

She was a cat— a cat!

Her panicking came to an end when the car she was looking at herself was suddenly picked up and— thrown at her.

She heard it moving before she saw it, her ears perking up and dragging forward, her body leaping out of the way as the tension in her body raised. She sensed it coming towards her, somehow being able to feel the immediate area around her— she couldn’t stop observing it all.

Oh. Oh. It all makes sense now.

How Chat was always able to see the Akuma or any objects that were about to hit her before she did.

That and she could get so stuck in her head so much that it could be problematic.

Like now, for example.

The Akuma— a giant doll version of Reflekdoll, poor Juleka probably got akumatized again— was throwing things at her and, well, she tried her best to dodge, using her baton and newfound speed and agility to avoid being dangerously squished.

Unfortunately, she was rather clumsy with her new suit and powers.

She tried to listen to what Plagg had said, to be careful, and to be slower but she couldn’t. She never got hit by cars or building debris or the giant doll's hands but she flinched at her roars of rage and collided with building edges or other things she underestimated her own ability to stop with.

It would be so much easier if she had her yoyo or her wings to help guide her.

Where was her Chaton when she needed him?

Across town in a shady alleyway, Adrien Agreste was smiling brightly at the tiny red and black Kwami who was giving him a soft smile of her own— blue, almost purple eyes twinkling.

“I can tell why my babybug likes you so much,” Tikki said, having found and calmly explained the situation to the blond who she found calling out for Plagg mere minutes before. “You’re very polite and sweet, Stink Socks probably complains so much!”

“Thanks,” Adrien flushed slightly, wondering if he heard the miniature goddess correctly when she said that her Babybug, Ladybug by omission, liked him. “He’s not too bad as long as I give him enough camembert.

“Him and his cheese,” Tikki rolled her eyes before focusing them back on him, her smile turning encouraging. “I’m sure Plagg has found M— Ladybug by now. All you have to do is say ‘spots on’. I’m positive you’ll be able to handle it, Adrien! You’ve proven to be an amazing Chat Noir, I’m sure you’ll be an amazing Ladybug as well!”

“You’re… nothing like Plagg.”

“I know,” The Kwami giggles and strangely enough it reminds him of his lady’s giggles— that is until a loud shattering boom went through the air and shook the ground around them and a flash of black and blue went past the alley. “Ready?”

“Not really, but I’ll do my best!” Adrien gave a nervous chuckle and then took the earrings into his palms, then turning a darker sheen of red then what the black glowed with originally and the part of them that would go into the holes turned into cuffs.

When he put them on, he tugged, delighted in the way they were tight enough to never fall off unless physically torn from his ears.

“Alright, Tikki, spots on!”

Adrien didn’t expect the warmth that encased him.

Usually, the magic that he got from Plagg felt cold and secure, like a protective darkness hiding him from the loneliness, giving him the freedom to run through the night without fear of the isolation waiting for him at home.

Tikki’s magic felt heavy, like burning alive— and suddenly he understood the burden that had been placed onto his lady’s shoulders and the strictness in her eyes.

There was no room for mistakes.

The world was in her palms, she had become Atlas at thirteen and never complained once. She had taken up the mantle with wariness and a proud stance and she held it so tightly that she never dropped it once.

He sucked in a breath, almost doubling over with the weight of it all.

Ladybug— for five years— felt this unyielding responsibility? She did this and put up with him, him who teased and goofed around and made mistakes? Him who had admittedly gotten better over time but still flirts and is playful on the field?

How did she deal with that?!

Fortunately, he didn’t have to think long about that being a giant doll stopped at the edge of the alleyway, turned to him as he shuffled back and roared.

He saw his own reflection in the shiny face— a maroon suit with black details and a black mask, his hair the same mess, and the yoyo around his waist. Thick wings were on his back, he could feel them twitch and scuffle as they opened in surprise. Ladybug had wings, he didn’t know why he expected not to.

His eyes were wide and so normal that it took him a second too long to realize they were coming closer.

Because the doll was moving closer, making his reflection do the same.

Why couldn’t he sense it?

Why did everything look so… so familiar? No extra sight, no extra hearing. How did Ladybug do this— how could she fight while being so normal?

God, he always had a lot of respect for her but now he has even more.

Shooting into the air, the yoyo automatically swung in his hand as he used it to volt himself into the sky, having seen his lady do so so many times it was almost second nature. Once he got over the doll, she shrieked in agitation— looking like Reflekdoll— and moved her clanky, large body to try and grab him.

Chat, however, if he could even call himself that anymore, opened his wings with some experimentation and flapped them a couple of times, not expecting the power they held and went so far into the sky that the sight could rival their rendezvous point on the Eiffel tower.

He tried to drift right but ended up volting upside down and catching a large gust of wind that sent him backward, wings snapping painfully straight.

The hero yelped and desperately, yet futility, clawed at the air.

Where was his lady when he needed her?

The young heroine was just thinking she got the hang of how to run across the rooftops with her accelerated speed— having failed and either trip or face-planted into a chimney here or there— but a masculine yelp came from above her and she looked up just in time to see the panicked face of her partner before the deep red-suited boy with long wings crashed into her.

They went flying, both rolling as their bodies tangled together, the cold tiles of the roof underneath them not hurting but definitely not pleasant as they came to a stop a couple of seconds after.

She groaned, feeling his familiar and hard body underneath hers.

She wanted him to be there with her, of course, but that didn’t mean she wanted him to tackle her after being airborne.

“Chat,” She struggles to detangle her arms from around him, his wings crowding them more than the usual present-battle entanglement. She was grateful though for this moment, he was warm and soothing and Tikki’s magic felt like a breath of fresh air. “Why would you—”

Why would you try to fly?

She was going to ask, seeing as that’s most likely how he literally fell out of the sky and onto her but then, then something horrifying happened.

She started to purr.

“Eek!” She shot up, arms painfully pulling out of their spot as she desperately tried to crawl away from her partner. “No, no, no, no—”

“Milady,” Chat’s teasing voice froze her but, unfortunately, made the purring all the much louder and she snapped her eyes up to meet his startlingly normal eyes. “Are you doing that because of me?”

“N-no! No, of course not, that would be, that would be, uh—”

She tried to focus on what she was saying, her lie so obvious, but then that stupid cat put a gentle hand into her hair and started to massage her scalp, petting her so softly that her purrs echoed.

Why did that make her feel so warm inside and why did it feel so good?

“Aw, my little kitten.” Chat cooed out. “So adorable. You’re happy to see me, hm?”

“Hm— ah, n-no.” The heroine leaned into his palm, forgetting about their surroundings as she melted into his touch— that is until a prickling sensation shook her whole body and she heard the faintest scrap of metal against the ground.

Her eyes flew open again and she jerked back into a sitting position, eyes snapping to the right as her hackles raised. Another stupid car was coming right at them! Without much thought, the heroine pushed her partner down onto the opposite side of the roof, rolling down after him just as the vehicle smashed into the building.

Okay.

So this Akuma was the murderous kind.

Not the trap or trick kind.

Nice to know.

“Okay, we have to lure her towards the Seine,” She jumped into her usual serious mode, jumping to her feet and unaware that her tail was swishing behind her. “That way there’s less of those stupid cars to throw. I’m pretty sure everyone is to safety by now but we still don’t want her damaging buildings due to the people inside.”

“Ladybug— er, I mean… what do I call you now?” Chat asked, standing up and stretching his wings, and then almost falling over again due to the wind and some building chunks the muttering Akuma was chucking at them.

“Uh, I don’t know, you pick.” She said half mindlessly, blocking hits for both of them. “It looks like a bigger version of when Juleka got Akumatized but I haven’t seen anything that could be the object and trust me, I’ve been thrown around enough to catch all of her.”

“Bluebell Kitten,” He said, pointing to the bell in the middle of her bow. “And are you okay? Did you have trouble using the baton?”

“No, the baton is easy, it’s the stupid senses thing! How can you focus on anything?” The apparent kitten asked, pointing towards the Eiffel tower. “And for the record, I regret giving you the choice to choose, Scarlet Beetle.”

“Ah, nice name.” He grinned, heeding to her signal, and started to run in that direction. “I don’t know, it just comes naturally. Makes sense it would be overwhelming for you, though. You get no extra senses at all, I don’t know how you fight like this.”

“Quite easily,” Bluebell Kitten quipped. “And just wait until you use my charm, it’ll definitely knock you off your feet.”

“That’s okay,” Scarlet beetle helped her keep the right face and sent her a wink that sent her tail wagging embarrassingly. “It’ll just be another way I fell for you.”

“Whatever.” She rolled her eyes but couldn’t help the smile that made its appearance. “You ready for this, buggy?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be, kitten.”

The battle went by with a little struggle— Scarlet Beetle having to help Bluebell Kitten with her speed, showing her the best way to stop or how to adjust her eyes to focus properly on what she was doing and about the new depth perception she had. In return, the bug turned cat helped the still flirty boy fly better, teaching him how to find the right air currents and how to land— but the heroine could tell her partner struggled with the Miraculous.

It was a different kind of struggle than she had with his.

Sure, Plagg’s magic was uncomfortable and too light and just wrong against her skin but Tikki with her kitty? Not a good mix.

He struggled to understand that he couldn’t take any hits for her— that that was the Kitten’s responsibility now.

That, no matter how much he wanted to save her, he couldn’t do anything that would put himself incapacitated or at a greater risk. They could defend each other but he was the last line of defense— they were a team but he mattered more.

He was the only one that could heal those hurt, that could fix things that were broken.

“Minou,” She had sighed out, blue eyes sparring her partner a glance as she distracted and he tried to figure out what his lucky charm meant. “No self-sacrificing today, okay?”

“What do you mean?” Scarlet Beetle had asked, frowning as he spun his yoyo in a circle to block some rumble from hitting him.

“It’s not your job to protect me right now. It’s your job to survive long enough to defeat the Akuma and fix everything.”

“But—”

“No buts. You can’t put yourself at risk, even for me. Understood?”

Begrudgingly, the blond-haired boy nodded and they settled their full attention back into the battle. Within minutes it was done, both of them having used their powers and able to return poor Juleka back to the Couffaine boathouse after fist-bumping and answering Alya’s question when she stormed up to them for a report on the Ladyblog.

The heroine could tell that her poor bug was still upset, having witnessed her take a couple blows that he hadn’t seen coming— being more unattentive than usual and not able to sense as much.

She had broken ribs but still fought by his side.

Broken ribs were nothing compared to what he went through before, she had told herself. He had died before, she wasn’t as unlucky.

“Chaton,” The Kitten grabbed his wrist, stopping him from where they were running on a roof, his earring cuffs beeping letting them know he only had three minutes left, her ring was at four. It had been roughly twenty minutes since they used their powers; more time from being older and getting more powers and mature suits. “I’m sorry that today was bad for you.”

“I’m just… I’m not used to not being able to protect you, milady.” He grumbled with a pout, crossing his arms over his chest. “I don’t like it.”

“It was only for today,” She reminded softly. “And I know how you feel but you just— you have to remind yourself that what happened, how I was hurt, wasn’t your fault. I know you would’ve protected me if you could have. That’s one of the burdens of having the Ladybug Miraculous.”

Scarlet Beetle just frowns at her and she sighs, reaching up a hand to softly cup his cheek.

“It’s okay, Kitty,” She smiles. “I’m fine now, aren’t I?”

“Is this how it’s like for you?” He questions, shiny green eyes flickering between her own. “Feeling helpless? Just watching and unable to save… I was unable to save you. I can’t, I can't do that again—”

Scarlet cuts himself off with a choking sound, hand clenching by his side with tears in his eyes. He trembled slightly and the Kitten felt her ears press flat as she recognized the terror in his eyes.

“Come here,” She holds her arms open, offering a hug and her boy is quick to take the opportunity and wrap himself into her gentle hold. “I know that was a hard fight but you’re not going to lose me, okay? Never. You’re stuck with me now, I’m not going to leave you or get hurt and not be there. I promise.”

“Promise,” He wiggles until his arm is free and holds out his pinky, the action so adorable that she can’t help but to giggle as she lifts her own hand and interwinds her pinky with his.

Beeps echo through the night and Bluebell pulls away, running a hand through Scarlet’s hair to make it even messier. She ruffled the spots his ears would normally be and smiled when the strands fluffed up and stuck up into different angles.

“We have to go, Minou.” She boops his nose. “Meet me in our hotel room tower tonight, we’ll switch back to normal.”

“Okay,” He gives her a goofy smile. “What does Tikki like to eat?”

“Chocolate chip cookies, or just sweets in general. Plagg likes cheese, right?”

“Really! Cookies are so much better than stinky camembert— which I’m guessing he mentioned. Do you, urm, even have that?”

“My dad’s secretly a cheese fanatic, I’m sure I can smuggle some of the good stuff from him.” Bluebell tilted her head slightly, eyeing his wings. “Don’t fly if you’re going into a window or something narrow because, and no offense, you're not good enough to avoid smacking into it and breaking something.”

“I take full offense,” He winks. “See you Milady.”

“See you, kitty.”

“Can you keep me?” Plagg asked, staring dreamily at the gruyere cheese that the young heroine had given him shortly after she detransformed and made it back home— and after he laughed about the pictures of all her friends including Adrien and Chat Noir on her walls. “I know I called you mushy and sentimental but this is even better than camembert!”

Marinette laughs and shakes her head, “Sorry Plagg, I prefer Tikki. I don’t like smelling like cheese.” Even if gruyere smelled quite a lot better than camembert.

“Ugh, humans.” The Kwami grumbles. “So fickle. You just wanna smell good for loverboy. I think that cheese smells amazing, for the record.”

“Your opinion has been noted.” She nods to him. “And I don’t want to smell good for Chat!”

“Mhm,” Plagg rolled his eyes. “Sure.”

“I’m not!”

“I totally believe you, kid.”

“You’re horrible,” She grumbles.

“Yeah, yeah. Feed me some more.”

“No.”

“Feed me!”

“Stop yelling or I’m telling Tikki you were being mean to me.”

“Hey!” Plagg turned to her with glaring green eyes. “Don’t bring Sugarcube into this.”

Marinette turned to him and raised an eyebrow, “Then don’t bring my kitty into this.”

“Aw,” He snickered. “You called him your kitty. He’ll get a kick out of that.”

“Plagg, claws out!” Marinette flushed a bright red and a green light encased her.

Time to go visit her kitty— because he is hers, no matter Plagg’s teasing.

Across town in a lonely room, Adrien was laughing so hard his stomach was hurting and tears were coming out of his eyes. He was practically wheezing at this point, curled up as he tried to catch his breath— something that, at this point, was useless.

He had managed to convince Tikki to try some of Plagg’s camembert.

And the little Kwami quite honestly looked like she was going to throw up, cheeks going almost a purple as she grimaced and gagged.

It shouldn’t have been as funny as it was but Adrien couldn’t help it.

Tikki was so different than Plagg and the simple fact that she looked like she was ready to die right then and there from the mere taste of the black cat’s favorite food was one of the funniest things he has ever seen.

“Haha,” She said, voice light but disgusted as she tried to cover up the taste with chocolate— which, by her expression, he could tell did not blend well. “Now you have to try it. Fair is fair.”

“No!” He choked on a chuckle. “Plagg has tried to feed me it so many times and succeeded. I don’t need to smell like that cheese more than I already do!”

“Hmph,” Tikki crossed her arms and floated up to his face. “I’m going to tell baby bug you tried to poison me.”

Adrien gaped, “You wouldn’t.”

The miniature goddess giggled, “You’re right, but your expression was worth it!”

“You’re so much nicer than Plagg, I can see why Ladybug loves you so much,” He commented, blinking slightly at the little Kwami’s stupefied expression. “She’s talked about you before. I didn’t know your name or anything but a couple of times during patrol she mentioned how, well… how she was so grateful you were her best friend.”

“Really?” Tikki gave an excited smile that only widened as Adrien nodded.

“Really really.”

“Well, she’s the best Ladybug I’ve had. The youngest too.” Her smile goes softer with a tender look only a being as long as she had lived could have. “I don’t know how she does it all, but despite all she thinks about herself, she’s a very resourceful little bug. I couldn’t be prouder of her. Or of you, Adrien! Plagg loves you, even if the stinky socks won’t admit it.”

“Thank you. He purrs when I hug him, even if he yells at me.”

“Does he really?” Tikki laughed joyfully. “I’ll have fun teasing him about that.”

“I thought you were the one that got teased?” Adrien tilted his head to the side.

“It goes both ways,” She reassured. “He’s just better at it.”

“I see. Did he really kill all the dinosaurs?”

“And the doo-doo birds.”

“No!” He gasped. “Evil.”

“Laziness and distractions,” The kwami corrected, lifting a solemn paw. “He was different back then. Less happy.”

“Less happy?” Adrien questioned.

He always assumed that cheese was the only thing that made Plagg truly happy, well, until he met Tikki and she had shared a couple of stories, telling him about all the interesting things they’ve been through together.

“Yeah,” Tikki gave him a sad smile. “We’ve been around since the dawn of creation, Adrien, we’ve seen countless civilizations and being rise and fall, empires turned to nothing more than ash. We’ve seen evil rise and good defend time and time again. My bugs… they are always smart, always compassionate people. Sometimes gentle and sweet like your lady is. Sometimes not. But they all— each and every single one of them— see horribly traumatizing things that Plagg’s holders do not, they get torn apart from the inside out. But his kittens? They get hurt more. They risk more. They die more and they die first. Always. And he dies with them a bit each time.”

“That’s…”

Adrien didn’t even know what that was, the only thing that came to mind was— sad.

“I know,” She gave him that motherly smile of hers, tone soft and soothing but with a note of sadness to it. “You don’t have to say it. Plagg takes a long time to open up to someone. He doesn’t like acting close, he doesn’t like being close— he said that it hurts less that way. But I know that it hurts the same, that it hurts even more. That he wants more time with them, I know I always do.”

“I can’t speak for anyone but myself,” The young hero says. “But I know that whenever I go, I will want more time with him, too.”

Tikki fixes him with a sweet look in her eye, “That’ll mean a lot to Stinky Socks. Could you tell him that?”

“Of course,” Adrien gives her one of his bright smiles— one that’s actually real. “It’s almost time to meet Milady at our room, are you all energized?”

Their room was at Le Grand Paris, paid for by Major Bourgeois after he assured the two heroes that there would be no supervallince, no one allowed on that floor (the very top) without their explicit permission and that they could come there at any time, the balcony always unlocked.

Chloe told them that it was a gift to her favorite superhero and ‘friend’ of all time.

Ladybug gave a weak smile and scowled once whom she considered to be a nuisance looked away.

Besides Chloe beings, well… Chloe, Adrien had no clue what she could’ve done to make his lady hate her so much. They interacted once every couple months due to her causing an Akuma, so maybe that was it but the dislikement Ladybug had for the girl seemed to go beyond that.

It seemed personal.

“Yep! Take me back to my baby bug, please.” Tikki smiles at him.

Returning the look, Adrien calls out, “Spots on!” And is encased into a burning, dark red light before the same maroon suit and dark wings flexed against his skin.

Scarlet beetle sighed.

Oh, how he couldn’t wait to see his lady.

Arriving at Le Grand Paris, Bluebell Kitten knew that her partner was already inside based on the precariously left open door and an album from Jagged Stone that she could hear extraordinarily well even from outside.

She, expecting to be able to stop, landed onto the balcony and put away her baton— only for her clumsy feet to stumble due to her speed and she crashed right through the open door, thankful that he left it open.

Then for the second time that day, the two heroes crashed into each other before slamming into the floor, the Kitten on top of the beetle and both bright red, bodies tangled up and so close that she couldn’t tell where she ended and he started.

“H-hey, Milady.” He, for some reason, chuckled and cupped the back of her head, holding her gently as he shifted slightly underneath her. “That eager to be bugged by me, huh?”

“Chaton,” The heroine scowled, pushing herself onto her elbows as she rests peacefully against his chest. “Aren’t you punned out for the day?”

“When am I ever punned out, little kitten?”

Bluebell shrieks as a purr loudly announces her appreciation— that she otherwise would’ve been able to hide— for the pet name and she scrambled back as that stupid blond started to laugh.

“Chat!” She covers her mouth with both hands, desperately trying to stop both her blush and the noise coming from her as it only grows thanks to her useless partner pulling her back onto him with a wicked grin. “Make it stop! How do I make it stop?”

“I don’t know if I want to help you with this, Milady,” He bites the inside of his cheek. “I quite like you not being able to hide how you feel.”

The purr in her chest turned into a soothing, almost constant rumble and she pouted.

“Yeah, well, I don’t.” The words seemed to vibrate in her throat and she swallowed the odd tickling feeling down. “I purr, Chaton. Purr! And every time I look at you my stupid tail wants to act up! Why? Because it hates me.”

“No,” He grinned. “Because you loooove me.”

Flushing deeply, she buries her head into her hands— deciding that's not enough and then buries it into his chest to hide the red-stained cheeks but Scarlet Beetle only laughs, telling her he saw it already.

“Come on, Bugaboo. I’m just teasing you.”

“I don’t like this.”

“But you like me.”

“Chat!”

“What? I didn’t do anything.” His laugh deepens and she can feel it in her own chest, being that close to him. That traitorous purr only gets louder. Stupid, stupid cat instincts. Why can’t she enjoy the sound of his laugh without him knowing? Was that too much to ask?

“Just give me my miraculous back, you silly tomcat,” Bluebell grumbles, successfully sitting up this time, the purr quieting when Scarlet Beetle puts his hands back to his sides. “And don’t tease my purring!”

“Why not?” He pouts. “You tease my purring.”

“That’s different,” She whines. “You’re cute when you do it. It’s just weird for me too! I don’t want to be able to hear your heart beating— wait!” She stared at him in wide-eyed horror. “Do you… do you usually hear that good?”

“Yeah?” The hero gives her a weird look. “But I learned to ignore it, why?”

“No reason.” She sighs, looking away from her partner as she scrambles off of him, both standing up and a foot apart. “Point is, I’m a cat person but I don’t want to be a cat.”

“I rather like seeing you as a cat,” His comment earns a dry look.

“I’m sure you just love seeing me prance around in leather but I like being Ladybug, not a kitty.”

“But you're my kitten,” Beetle’s pout returns, and his green eyes widen innocently— almost as bad as Manon’s when she wants something.

The longer she stared into his eyes, the more familiar they became.

Not because they were Chat’s eyes, no— she’s seen her partner’s slitted gaze thousands of times. She’s seen him look at her a thousand times with that look in his eyes, too. The look that got her heart racing and the ‘what ifs’ to drag through her mind.

But these eyes?

And that expression?

She saw it somewhere else, on someone else.

All she can do is stare blankly at him, mind reeling.

No… no, it can’t be him— Chat can’t be—

But he could.

The missed classes, the poor excuses, the exhaustion, the secret gaze, the trusting of her civilian self. Blonde hair, green eyes. Bad father. Kind, selfless, smart. Lonely. The gentlest soul she has ever met.

Everything just clicked.

The thing they had been dancing around for years just fell into place looking into those eyes— eyes she used to be too nervous to look into. Eyes she tripped over, eyes she used to be in love with; eyes she still was in love with.

Raising a shaking hand to his cheek, she caressed it softly before bringing it up to his hair and brushing the strands back. He watched her, curious gaze intense as they locked eyes.

“Adrien?”

The name passed her lips so softly, so assured, and her kitty flinched in surprise, wide eyes filling first with confusion, then panic, and then with questions.

“How did you…”

She fell for him once under the hood of an umbrella and a sincere apology, with thunder and lightning crashing around them in the downpour but she didn’t mind. She wasn’t the only thing in Paris that day that felt so heavy that she could scream and she didn’t mind. She fell in love with the sweet boy with good grades and a sadness trapped into a smile. She fell in love with the boy who did everything he could to make his father happy, to help people. She fell in love with the boy beyond the good boy, perfect model facade he put on.

She fell in love with Adrien Agreste at fifteen.

She fell in love with him again at eighteen but it was different this time. There was no lightning, no quick strike of feelings and amazement and warmth. No, it was like swimming in shallow waters only to get swept up in the tides, completely trusting the water to keep her safe.

She fell in love with the puns, with the goofy smile and flicking ears and curious green eyes. She fell in love with her best friend, her partner. She fell in love with the boy in the mask, the one who supported her whenever she needed it and held her even when she didn’t. She fell in love with his sensitive heart and sharp mind.

She fell in love with Chat Noir.

And ever since then she’s been falling all over the place, enamoured over everything he did. She fell and fell and fell. There were so many things to love about him— both sides of him.

How couldn’t she see it before?

Because, honestly, who else could’ve been good enough to be Chat Noir?

“Your eyes,” She murmured almost absentmindedly, looking between the verdant orbs. “They’re usually darker and slitted. Cats eyes. But… but these eyes? These are Adrien Agreste’s eyes. I know these eyes, they’re beautiful.”

She could hear his heart racing and she could see the almost begging way he looked at her. She could see the tension in his body, the way he could so easily shrink in on himself.

“And is… is being Adrien okay?” The hero questioned, wincing slightly as he looked away from her. “Are you disappointed that it’s me?”

“Of course not,” She giggled and that stupid purr still hadn’t left. “You’re you. How could that ever disappoint me, Chaton?”

“I don’t know... I’m not, I don’t— do I know you?” Adrien— Chat— questioned, shuffling on his feet as he leaned into her touch. “Outside of the mask, I mean?”

She felt the purring stop and her ears went back. She retracted her hand slowly to her cheek and hugged herself around the middle. She looked down at the wings opened anxiously against his back, not wanting to see the disappointment on his face.

“Yeah,” The heroine nods. “We’re friends.”

Friends.

That’s all they were.

Chat Noir and Adrien were in love with Ladybug— not her.

She wasn’t elegant or agile, she tripped over her feet three times a day and could be so unorganized and forgetful that she drove herself insane. She wasn’t too confident and she was far from brave.

Marinette wasn’t like Ladybug.

She wasn’t… she wasn’t that perfect girl Chat made her out to be.

Adrien was her friend, they hung out and could have good conversations but she noticed that he avoided her slightly, almost like he was disgusted by her. Like she made him uncomfortable.

Like he couldn’t stand her, even if he was polite.

It was almost like how she acted the first year they knew each other but he seemed more… wary, like she had done something to offend him and he was just waiting for her to realize or talk to him about it.

Would he be disappointed that she’s Ladybug?

Angry, even?

“Why do you look so sad, bugaboo?” Adrien asks, concern touching his tone. “Did you— do you not want to be my friend?”

When she looked at him, her poor partner looked ready to drop with worry and she gave a watery chuckle, just realizing there were tears in her eyes.

“Sorry,” She rubs the wetness away, almost poking herself with the claws. “I just… you don’t like me much. The civilian me, anyway. I don’t want you to be upset that it’s me.”

“There are very few people I don’t like,” He frowned. “And none of them have blue hair, or blue eyes, or your smile. Who are you?”

Bluebell lowered her eyes, “You won’t hate me?”

It’s always been a fear of hers— Chat finding out who she actually was and leaving her, being disgusted. How could an insecure klutz like that protect Paris? How could he trust the girl who couldn’t get three good sentences out to him to talk down an Akuma or soothe one of the victims with her tone?

How could he still love her, knowing the girl underneath the mask?

Ladybug was stunning.

Marinette was just… Marinette.

“I couldn’t even if I tried,” Adrien reassured her, wringing his hands together in such a cute, unlike-Chat way that she giggled. “Can I detransform?”

“Sure,” She took a step back again, nervous for no reason at all.

It was just Chat, just her partner. Just the boy she’s been in love with for the last five years.

No big deal.

None whatsoever.

“Are you sure?” He asked. “You look like you’re going to cry. Oh no, I’m so sorry! I knew you wouldn’t like that I was Adrien! God, I’m so stupid—”

“Stop being mean to yourself!” She snapped. “I care about you, both sides! I care that you’re Adrien because you make me a little nervous but it’s nothing bad, I promise! I just have, urm… it’s a lot to process.”

“...Understandable.” He swallowed, then said, “Spots off.”

A flash of red consumed Scarlet Beetle and in his place stood Adrien, hair neater and muscular body less accentuated in his, ironically, ladybug-themed sweater and jeans that she knew he wore to school.

It was Adrien Agreste.

Her friend Adrien Agreste.

Bluebell knew that— of course she knew that but seeing it… it took her breath away.

Tikki floated between the two heroes with wide eyes, glancing to her baby bug and then back to the blond. She had no clue what was happening and her holder dreaded the lecture she’d get later of the importance of keeping their identities a secret.

With slightly narrowed eyes but an encouraging smile, Tikki went over to the other side of the room where the cookies were at and started to eat.

She could feel the Kwami’s eyes on her and the anxiety creeping around her veins pulsed viciously.

Taking a deep breath, she looked Adrien in the eyes— and then purred.

Loudly.

Horrifyingly loud.

When will this nightmare end?!

“Eep!” She stumbles back, flushing. “I don’t mean to, I swear!”

Adrien gives her that bemused smile, one usually reserved for Marinette after she did something weird or awkward, and chuckles, “It’s okay, Milady. No judgment here.”

“Thanks.” She said, still covering her cheeks.

“Are you, um… going to detransform, too?”

She knows that Adrien— Chat— has wanted to know who she was since the day they met. She wanted to know too but the fear of Hawkmoth getting to them outweighed the desire.

But thinking about it and actually telling him were two different things.

“I meant what I said,” Bluebell told him, voice steady but wary. “You avoid me and… and the way you look at me— we’re friends but just don’t… don’t get your hopes up that I’m someone you’ll like.”

“I already know I like you, with or without the mask.” He reassured, that usual comforting smile on his lips that got him that sunshine-boy reputation. “So please, bugaboo? I really want to know who you are.”

She bit her lip, holding her breath for a couple of seconds as she held herself in place too, leaning against the wall besides the windows.

She felt trapped, worried, but also excited.

She wanted him to know, even if she was scared.

She was far enough away from him, she could probably make it to the window and escape if he looked absolutely revolted by her.

She’s faced rejection before.

She could do it again.

Even if it would hurt really, really bad.

“Claws in.” She said, face turned to the ground as she trembled.

Oh God, there was no turning back now.

The soft baby blue light surrounded her, the drowning, beating wave-like power of the Miraculous leaving her as Plagg appeared in the air next to her arm— him being tackled by Tikki before he could even say anything, followed by a loud ‘shush’ from the Kwami.

Marinette stood there, shoulders raised with tension and her heart pounding behind her ears. She had the strongest urge to hide her face from view, to run away from all of this.

From his reaction.

“You’re… you’re Marinette.” Adrien said this slowly. He got a nod in reply. “And you think that I— Adrien Agreste— don’t like you?”

She gave another nod, not trusting her voice to speak.

She couldn’t even look at him. How pathetic could she get?

“I don’t hate you, Mari,” He said this and Marinette shyly looked up, flushing at the look of adoration on his face. He could still look at her like that? How? “I always noticed how uncomfortable I made you, I was just giving you space. I didn’t mean to make you upset, I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” She rubs her arms and looks away again. “You don’t make me uncomfortable, just nervous.”

“Why?” Adrien questioned, voice almost cracking. “Do I intimidate you or something?”

Marinette couldn’t help it. She laughed.

“Intimidate me?” This is said with a giggle and she makes her amused eyes meet his. “You think you’re intimidating? Cute.”

“Hey,” His tone turned slightly offended and she bit her lip as he pouted. “I can be intimidating and scary.”

“Yeah?” She teases, leaning forward with that twinkle in her eyes— playful like how she could be with Chat. Because this was Chat. “Do it. Be scary. Intimidate me, ‘o frightening one.”

“Urm, I d-don’t think I can right now. You’re you.”

“Does your brain feel like it’s going to explode?” Marinette asks, blue clashing with green as she tilts her head to the side.

“Kinda.” Adrien admits sheepishly. “I’m still trying to understand why you get nervous around me.”

“Uh,” She blinks, a sheepish smile coming onto her face. “I know you’re in love with Ladybug but— but I’m not her, I’m not that great. I’m just me. And you think of me— Marinette— as a friend. But… I’ve kind of been in love with you since Dupont?”

“You what?”

“Been in love with you,” Marinette’s face burned. “Since I was about thirteen. I hated you at first, you were friends with Chloe and the gum on my seat didn’t help but then I noticed how kind you were. Smart, selfless. Lonely, too but you don’t like talking about that so I’m sorry for mentioning it— I just, I fell in love with you and that’s why you always made me nervous because I didn’t think you could love me back.”

“Marinette,” Adrien looks at her, tenderness and seriousness oddly mixed in his gaze as he slowly walked towards her. “I’ve been in love with you from the second we met. And don’t say that you’re not Ladybug because you are, both inside and outside of the mask. You help people, you protect them. You’re passionate and strong and stubborn and I love you. I don’t know how many times I’ll have to say it before you believe me but I’ll do it until then and even after. I love you. I love you so much that it hurts— mph!”

With slight tears pricking her eyes, Marinette closed the distance between them and wrapped him into a tight hug, his now familiar body both making her feel calm and make her heart race.

“I love you too.”

Adrien sighs contently, wrapping his arms around her too. He held her gently but tightly, not willing to let her go but not risking hurting her— not that the silly kitty could.

Suddenly he chuckles and says, “That explained why you purred.”

“I said not to tease me!” She whined, pulling back enough that she could look up at him with narrowed eyes. “You’re so mean, Chaton.”

“And you’re stunning, Bugaboo.”

The comment made Marinette squeak and dunk her head, desperate to get her blush out of his eyesight— but a soft yet collapsed hand holding lightly onto her chin stopped the action, Adrien bringing her eyes back up to look at him.

“You believe me when I say that, yes?” He asks. “Because I mean it. Everything about you is gorgeous, I don’t know how I didn’t realize the two girls I fell in love with were the same one.”

“It’s because we’re both stupid,” She giggles, stering the converastion away from compliments, unsure of how much warmer her face could get before she combusted. “But I also blame your hair.”

“My hair?” He raises an eyebrow.

“Mhm,” She hums, reaching up to play with the soft strands as she had done so hundreds of times before. “You always have it so neat but as Chat it’s messy.”

“I like it better that way,” He explains, a slight purr to his voice. “It’s more comfortable.”

“Both styles are equally cute, so you’re lucky.” She murmurs absentmindedly, still focused on his hair, ruffling it slightly with a smile. Then she notices the ear cuffs he had on and blinked in surprise. “Are those my earrings?”

“Huh?” Adrien blinks his eyes open and Marinette giggles at his dazed expression. Even without the ring he was her silly kitty who liked to be pet and cuddled. “Oh, yeah. They changed when I touched them.”

“Your ring did too,” She shows him. “It was weird, I thought it would’ve stayed silver.”

“Yeah, me too,” He poked the ring and then gently slides it off of her finger, putting it on his own before reaching up for the earrings and giving them back to their rightful owner who puts them off and sighs in relief.

This magic was familiar— this magic was warm and like home and tight enough to keep her safe, not like swimming in an open ocean and gasping for air only for her lungs to fill with water instead.

“Mari?”

“Yes?” She looks up at him, seeing questions in his verdant eyes.

“Have you, um, seen something bad that I haven’t?”

It was admittedly a weird question, one that through her off guard but one that also made her think of the word drowned in water and dust, of the Eiffel tower toppled over, of watching herself crumple and fade, of seeing the moon cracked open in the sky and a boy in white with blue, crying eyes and a broken soul.

It made her think of how she saved him— but how she hadn’t saved her Chaton all those times, how she watched him die and fade and get captured and tortured and taken control of.

It made her think of the trauma of watching her city burn and the people in it all relying on her since the tender age of thirteen to save them all.

It made her think of all the times she had to protect everyone by herself because she lost Chat after he risked everything to save her.

Realizing she got lost in thought, Marinette startled and focused back onto her partner, “Yes, but don’t worry Minou. I can handle it.”

“I want you to be able to talk to me about those things,” Adrien murmured softly. “Tikki told me that all her Ladybugs live through things Chat Noirs don’t— but we’re a team. I want to share that burden with you.”

She sighed— and then she told him about Chat Blanc, she told him about how Paris drowned under the weight of their love three years ago and she’s been scared for him ever since, she told him about all of it.

By the end, they were both in tears and holding onto each other.

A weight feels like it was lifted off of her shoulders, like she was light enough to just float. It felt good talking about it, to let go all of that terror and heartache she accumulated over the years.

“You’re stronger than I ever knew,” Adrien kisses her forehead and her heart flutters. “I’m so proud of you, my little kitten.”

“Adrien,” She whines, hiding her face into his shoulder. “Stop.”

“Stop what?” He chuckles, lightening the mood. He always had a way of doing that. “Complimenting you?”

“Yes, I’m not used to it!” Marinette exclaimed. “You’re making me blush too much!”

“What if that’s my goal?”

“Then it’s a bad goal.”

“Meow-ch, Princess.” Adrien puts a hand over his heart. “You hurt me so, but fine. If that’s a bad goal, then what’s a good one?”

Feeling brave, she shoots him a wide smirk, “Kissing you until you’re breathless.”

He just stares at her, gaping as he blinks.

“What, Kitty?” She teases, leaning closer. “You flirt all the time but can’t take it?”

“No, it’s j-just… I completely support that goal.”

Laughing, Marinette rolls his eyes before cupping his face and kissing him— the feeling of his soft lips on hers sending a shiver down her spine. It was passionate and slow and loving, a kiss that told both of them all they had been feeling for these years.

It was a kiss that told them no matter what happened, they’d be okay.

So they kissed, again and again until they lost reality.

Going through the pain of having their Miraculous switched was worth it.

#switched miraculous #adrien x marinette #adrienette #adrien agreste #ml ladybug #ml adrien #mlb fanfic #miraculous ladybug #miraculous kwami #kitten #purring #Chat Noir and Ladybug #marinette dupain cheng #mlb fic #fluff #fight #akuma attack #long post #long fic

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thebibliomancer · 4 years ago

Text

Essential Avengers: Hawkeye #1-4

September, 1983

Listen to the Mockingbird

Now for something completely different.

-OR- Further justifying why the posts are titled Essential Avengers when I’m just going to put a colon and then an Avengers to get Essential Avengers: Avengers. Its because sometimes its not Avengers!

Sometimes its Hawkeye.

Since I’m doing four issues in one post, I’m not going to go as in-depth as I usually do.

So, last times on Avengers as related to Hawkeye: Hawkeye was cut from the Avengers due to a limited roster. He eventually got a job as the security chief at Cross Technological Enterprises with the same lack of restraint that got him a job with the Avengers. He’s been doing that for a while, since pre-200. Recently the Avengers needed beef up their roster and Cap and Iron Man convinced him to rejoin, which Hawkeye has done while also keeping his security chief job.

During an Avengers mission TO RESCUE THE PRESIDENT, he broke his leg and was put on medical leave from the team. He got one of the CTE people to build him a rocket-sled that he could putt around in. Judging by the lack of cast, his leg is better but he’s still using the cool rocket-sled.

And that’s where we are. Hawkeye has a cool rocket-sled and is actually holding down an actual job at Cross Technological Enterprises. He’s seems to still be on leave from the team despite his leg being better.

The miniseries starts with Hawkeye congratulating himself on getting a cool rocket-sled, even though it cost all of his money.

Hawkeye: “‘Bad guys beware -- Hawkeye’s in the air!’ Hmmm, not the worst slogan an aerial archer could have... but close.”

At least he’s self-aware. Some days that’s all you can ask of Hawkeye!

He spots three suspicious characters suspiciously sneaking and swoops down on the rocket-sled, taking them out with ease with his totally sweet trick arrows.

Hey, note to comic makers of our modern day. Trick arrows are sweet. I don’t need to see people getting shot in the eyes with arrows when I can see like a net arrow or whatever.

The three suspicious characters are actually CTE employees that Hawkeye asked to come in on their off time to help him get a hang of archering from the rocket-sled. Including the scientist, Jorge, who built it for him!

Wow, Hawkeye!

Jorge at least was happy to do build the thing because he feels like his talents are wasted at CTE and Hawkeye encourages him to go into business for himself.

Which is probably the kind of thing that’s going to get Hawkeye a reprimand but hey, good looking out, Hawkguy.

One of the other CTE employees asks why Hawkeye uses a bow and arrow instead of... a gun. Why not just shoot people with a gun.

Hawkeye: “The bow is quieter, more versatile, and in my hands the deadliest weapon in the state. Or hadn’t you noticed, Howie?”

He doesn’t mention that its also more believably non-lethal than if he were going around with a gun. Because Hawkeye says its the deadliest weapon in the state but he’s also a huge proponent of “superheroes don’t kill!”

But point being, you can buy a comic book guy pinning people to walls with arrows or using trick arrows or shooting weapons out of their hands without killing anyone way more than you could if Hawkeye was just using a magnum.

Also, this:

I believe he is literally flexing on that dude.

CTE’s new public relations lady Sheila Danning shows up for a date with Hawkeye because I guess there’s no rule about dating co-workers. Or at least if they’re not in the same department?

Having a woman showing positive attention to Hawkeye is his cue to have a little internal monologue that’s a little bit sad.

Hawkeye: Man, this is the life! A ridiculously high-paying job, a fast machine between my legs, and a foxy lady who’s nuts about me. What more could a guy want? Until Sheila came along, I thought I was put on this world for women to dump on. Women... like the Black Widow and Scarlet Witch. No matter what I did, I just couldn’t get them to care for me like I did for them. Sheila’s different. Even though we’ve been seeing each other for only a month, what we have is special, real, like nothing I’ve ever known.

I don’t want to ruin his good times but I will remind the audience that he once rage-quit the Avengers because Scarlet Witch didn’t want to kiss him.

Anyway, Hawkeye is pretty enamored. He’s even thinking maybe it’s time he settles down.

He takes her back to his place and they start dancing to some Mantovani as he recaps his entire backstory to her.

In fairness. In faiiiirness. She asked.

But you should know the drill. Clint and Barney ran away from the orphanage to join the circus. Swordsman saw potential in Clint and trained him in archery and Clint began seeing Swordsman as a father figure so threw himself into training in hopes that Swordsman would be proud of him.

Which is funny in an odd way because there’s some same-face going on and Swordsman looks just like Tony Stark!

I wonder if Clint ever slipped up and called Tony dad and had to cover it up by continuing into a daddio.

Anyway, he caught Swordsman with stolen money and Swordmaster left him in a broken heap and skipped town when Clint wouldn’t promise to keep quiet.

Later, he saw the adulation that Iron Man got when he flew over the circus and thought wait I can do that. Got a costume and tried to become a hero. Oops, tripped into being a supervillain and enemy of Iron Man. Annd then joined the Avengers.

Hawkeye: “I’ve done many a stint with my Avenging buddies, but I think I’m finally ready to wing it solo for good. Much as I like ‘em, they cramp my style a bit too much.”

Sheila: “Fascinating story, Clint. Looks like I’ve got a real self-made man. How about if I try to unmake you a little?”

And then they’re about to do sexy times when Clint’s emergency beeper goes off. Because somehow the emergency always knows when you’re horny or mid-ablution.

Hawkeye has to suit back up and head out back to work

Hah.

But anyway, he catches a lady in a very sleevesy costume prowling around and during some back and forth and further back and forth pinned you no pinned you action, she introduces herself as Mockingbird, an ex-shield agent and freelance crimebuster (I think that means superhero?).

Some underworld contacts of hers led her to investigate Cross Technological Enterprises under suspicion that CTE is manufacturing mass mind control technology right under a certain Avenger slash archer’s nose. I.e., Hawkeye.

She wants him to lead her to warehouse 10 but their conversation is interrupted by a security night shift who rush in and surround Mockingbird despite Hawkeye ordering prior to the action scene to let him handle it.

They cuff Mockingbird and take her away but oddly claim that they thought Hawkeye sent the signal for them to charge in.

Hawkeye is perplexed and vexed wondering if there’s anything to Mockingbird’s story. He doesn’t know the full extent of what CTE manufactures and there was some shady business in Marvel Fanfare #3 where a vice-president was using CTE facilities to manufacture a bomb.

Mockingbird’s story bugs him so much that he returns home to Sheila and tells her that there’s something he has to take care of and sends her home in a cab.

He returns to Cross on his sweet rocket-sled and investigates warehouse 10, finding it empty but with a lot of fresh tracks in the dust, like something was moved in only the past hour or so.

Also, a bunch of security staff show up and point guns at him.

That’s also a red flag.

When reminding them he’s their boss doesn’t settle them down, he rolls to the floor to shoot out the lights like a cool action guy and then starts taking them out in the dark just by shooting whenever he hears one of the idiots make a sound.

But one of the guards has Sheila hostage even though she was supposed to have gone home so Hawkeye has to surrender.

The guards toss him into a pit with Mockingbird. Just an oubliette that CTE has on premise, as ya do.

Hawkeye demands to speak with Sheila so he knows she’s alright and whoops she’s in on it.

Sheila Danning, heartbreaker: “Barton -- you stupid fool! Why did you have to be so conscientious? It was my job to keep you distracted so you’d have no time to notice the operation Cross had been contracted for -- a very costly, deadly operation.”

Hawkeye, heartbroken: “What are you talking about, Sheila? Are you saying they paid you to -- to --”

Sheila: “Yes, they paid me. I was pretty convincing, wasn’t I? You never had the slightest idea that I could sooner love a dog than a cornball Romeo with delusions of adequacy like you.”

Hawkeye: “You can’t mean that! They must’ve brainwashed you, poisoned your mind against me! Or -- or maybe you’re not Sheila at all, an imposter, or a robot -- !”

Sheila: “Don’t kid yourself, Barton. I’m the one and only. The woman who could barely keep from snickering when you told her your carnival story this evening.”

Ouch.

I like to mock Hawkeye because he deserves some light ribbing but ouch, she slipped a knife right between those ribbings.

That poor dolt was thinking about proposing and she was paid to distract him by feigning interest. Oof ouch.

Anyway, since CTE has suddenly become Bond-esque, they start dumping liquid industrial waste into the pit to drown and/or melt Hawkeye and Mockingbird.

The stuff is like acid but Hawkeye is kind of wallowing in being dumped and doesn’t care.

Hawkeye: “I ain’t moving. All my life I’ve been dumped on. I’m beginning to enjoy it.”

Mockingbird tells him that if he lets himself be melted by industrial waste because he feels sorry for himself, his ex wins. But that doesn’t move him so she has to mock him into action. This is what she was named for!

Mockingbird: “So this is what they taught you in the Avengers? What a bunch of jerks! They should see you now. I’ll bet you let them down in a pinch, too. Whenever your feelings get hurt.”

Hawkeye: “SHUT UP! I’m gonna get us out of here, lady. Then I’m going to kill Sheila for what she did to me. Then you’ll get yours, too.”

Mockingbird: “Sure, sure. Get us out first.”

Hah, I like Mockingbird.

And I like Hawkeye too. He makes good use of what he has to escape this Bond-esque trap. He doesn’t have his bow or his arrows but he keeps a fifty foot length of cord in his boot and spare arrowheads in his tunic. He calls his rocket-sled with the remote control, ties the cord to a spare rocket arrow-tip and rockets himself and Mockingbird out of the pit and up to his rocket-sled.

Then Hawkeye says he has to go attend some private business and Mockingbird is like cool, I’ll wait for you and hops onto a roof.

Hawkeye rams the rocket-sled through the window of Sheila Danning’s office and jump kicks the guards she has with her and confronts her.

Hawkeye: “You hurt me, Sheila... More than anything ever hurt in my life.”

Sheila: “Stay back, Hawkeye! I - I --”

Hawkeye: “I could kill you for what you did to me. But I won’t. I... can’t. I just don’t care anymore... about you or about whatever scheme Cross is up to! Give me my bow and quiver back and I’ll go.”

Tangentially, like an anime, his shirt is a lot flimsier than his pants and melted off in the acid while his pants are tattered but intact. If only they made shirts out of pants...

And if only they made any outfit out of lady outfit. Mockingbird’s outfit has a few holes and tatters but her whole top didn’t dissolve like Hawkeye’s did!

Sheila does give Hawkeye his archery stuff but warns him that he Knows Too Much and Cross will come after him.

Kind of a weird flex to pull on AN AVENGER WHO KNOWS THOR but you do you, Cross Technological Enterprises.

Hawkeye just takes off on his sweet rocket-sled without responding, zooming past where he left Mockingbird who has to jump onto the moving rocket-sled because he does not slow down for her.

Mockingbird: “Got your business taken care of, sport?”

Hawkeye, crying a little: “Shut up, just shut up. If you hadn’t shown up, none of this could have happened.”

Oof.

That’s the hurt speaking buddy. Ignorance wouldn’t have been bliss here because as soon as Cross didn’t need to distract you any longer, Sheila probably would have found some excuse to dump you.

Also, their scheme was asinine! They don’t have other facilities? Just build the mind control doohickey somewhere else instead of paying someone to distract Hawkeye with horny!

October, 1983

POINT BLANK!

So after having his heart broken and wallowing in some acid sludge in the last issue, Hawkeye is in a bad place. Emotionally. And also geographically.

He’s standing on some abandoned railroad tracks under the West Side Highway and shooting arrows at a bullseye he crudely drew on a cement block.

And Good Archer Hawkeye has not hit a single bullseye because of all the emotional turmoil. Also, since he’s shooting at concrete, he’s breaking all of his arrows.

He’s also wearing his no-shirt acid-tattered costume.

And he’s been here for 42 hours without sleeping, eating, or managing to hit a bullseye.

He’s in a bad place.

So he passes out and he’s eventually found by some random street toughs who recognize him as an Avenger (although they think his name is Nighthawk womp womp) and decide ‘hey lets kick his ass and do him a murder maybe.’

Hawkeye comes to, as one might when people are kicking them in the head, and manages to nail three bullseyes on the three toughs he didn’t kick unconscious.

Hawkeye: Three bullseyes. Two kayos. Five sleezos in dreamland. Thanks, creeps. You gave me a reason to go on living. I’m just not sure what it is!

But now Hawkeye is at a loss of what to actually do. He refuses to go to the Avengers for help because blah blah blah muh pride. He can’t go and “mooch” off of them. So he decides to go check out the apartment he had through Cross Technological Enterprises and see whether they’ve cleared him out or not.

They have.

Everything he had to his name except the clothes on his back and bow in his hand gone. Arrow-making tools and spare costumes gone too.

But he also finds Mockingbird waiting for him.

Mockingbird: “Hello, Hawk. Can I buy you some breakfast?”

Hawkeye: “MOCKINGBIRD! Lady, you’re not one of my favorite people, but I know a good offer when I hear one.”

A free breakfast is a free breakfast.

Mockingbird takes Hawkeye back to her apartment and apologizes for blowing up his life but also says that it would have happened eventually anyway even had she never come along.

Which, yeah, you can only pay a person to pretend to love someone they hate for so long before the mask slips.

She also offers to mend his costume. Not sure how she’s thinking. Its not torn. Its half gone.

Hawkeye says yeah sure but hey why don’t you narrate your ENTIRE BACKSTORY.

So Mockingbird introduces herself as Barbara Morse, Bobbi to her friends.

She was a biology whiz at Georgia Tech and went with her favorite professor when she signed on to a government project to recover the super-soldier serum that made Captain America so super.

SHIELD was one of the sponsors of the project so Bobbi got to know several SHIELD agents and realized ‘hey being a spy sounds AMAZING’ and signed up with SHIELD’s spy school.

She graduated top of her class and was sent on a mission to track down Ka-Zar who SHIELD wanted to hire.

Mockingbird: “I found the jungle man all right. Even got involved with him, if you know what I mean. But things never quite worked out between us.”

Oh my god, what a power move to brag about nailing discount-Tarzan while recapping your life story.

Later, she investigated SHIELD itself at the request of a Congressman under the identity as the Huntress. But not the crossbow one. But because of her actions, she gained the reputation as a traitor to SHIELD.

So she changed her name to Mockingbird and took the evidence of corrupt agents to Nick Fury. And got shot a couple times in the attempt.

She had to spend six months recovering and after turned down a SHIELD promotion to go solo.

Mockingbird: “Not that I had anything against S.H.I.E.L.D... I just got used to operating alone. It wasn’t long after I got back into circulation that I came across the lead that took me to Cross Tech and I bumped into you. So that’s my lifestory in a nutshell, Hawk.”

I don’t know why I thought Mockingbird debuted in this series because she has a lot of backstory here. She showed up in Astonishing Tales #6 unnamed, was introduced as Dr. Barbara Morse in Astonishing Tales #12, was introduced in her Huntress (but not that one) identity in Marvel Super Action #1, and even Mockingbird debuted in Marvel Team-Up #95! Geez, Bobbi!

Annnnnd then Mockingbird realizes that Hawkeye fell asleep on her while she was recapping her entire life!

Bobbi doesn’t hold it against him, realizing how exhausted he must have been.

She tucks him in and heads off to go pick up some supplies to fix his costume.

Later, someone picks the locks to the apartment door and silently comes up and puts a gun to the sleeping Hawkeye’s head.

Perhaps it is instinct -- a survival sense honed in hundreds of life-and-death struggles... But somehow Clint Barton feels the cool gun metal at his temple, instantly recognizes it for what it is -- and reacts.

(We actually see a hint of this dingus at Hawkeye’s apartment when he meets Mockingbird there. Implying that he somehow followed them from there to Bobbi’s apartment. Somehow. Even though Hawkeye and Bobbi took Hawkeye’s sweet rocket-sled. Good tracking, this guy.)

Hawkeye manages to dive away from the guy’s gunfire and hide behind one of those tables that looks like a giant spool. He weirdly realizes that the assassin’s gun isn’t making any sound when he fires and the bullets aren’t making any noise when they hit.

He’s in a tough spot unable to reach his bow in time when Mockingbird comes back to save Hawkeye, flipping the assassin and telling Hawkeye to grab his gun.

The assassin jumps out the window rather than deal with the both of them (Bobbi speculates its because she’s not on his hit list).

Hawkeye tests the gun after and discovers that its not silenced which means that the silencer was all in the guy’s suit, muting all the sounds he makes.

He dubs the guy Silencer and he has a pretty neat gimmick but doesn’t seem to ever appear again after this issue.

Shame. Imagine this guy against Daredevil.

Anyway, Mockingbird also managed to make Hawkeye a new outfit while she was gone.

Mockingbird: “Here -- better put this on. Half-naked men with guns make it hard for me to concentrate.”

Hawkeye: “Sure.”

God. Hawkeye’s non-reaction to that blatant flirt makes me laugh. He may as well have Saitama meme’d.

So the new outfit.

The blue is a lot darker now. The dangly part of the tunic is a lot less dangly now. And the outfit has some asymmetrical sleeves. Also, its not entirely clear on this shot but the gloves are weird. They don’t cover the sides of his fingers. I don’t know if that’s an archery thing or what and I don’t know if that’s going to be a detail that lasts once other artists start drawing this costume.

All in all, not a bad looking new outfit. Its better than that time he didn’t wear pants.

Later that night, Hawkeye figures that they need to return to Cross and figure out who hired them to build that mind-control thing. But, they’ll need help getting back into Cross.

(Hey, I just realized. Hawkeye was double Cross’d by his employer. Hah.)

They go to visit Jorge Latham, the guy who built a sweet rocket-sled for Hawkeye so probably the guy he trusts the most now.

Jorge: “What happened to you, man? We got a memo two days ago that you were fired for incompetency, and I haven’t seen you since!”

Aw man, insult to injury! They told everyone that Hawkeye was fired because he sucked too hard!

Hawkeye tells Jorge the story, in brief, about how Cross is up to something, gets information on where the special projects are done, and tells Jorge to maybe get his resume in order in case he accidentally shuts the whole company down in the course of blowing this thing wide open.

Jorge is a lot more chill about learning he might be unemployed soon than I think a lot of other people would be. Although he had already expressed he wasn’t really satisfied in his job.

Hawkeye: “The info he gave us is going to save us a lot of hassle. Sure is good to have a few folks you can trust.”

Mockingbird: “You still don’t quite trust me, do you, Hawkeye? Even after I saved your life.”

Hawkeye: “No offense, lady. But it’s going to take me a while before I can fully trust any woman again.”

Geez, really hope that doesn’t last. He already teetered into disrespect of women without becoming a full-on misogynist.

Drink your respect women juice, Hawkeye.

The two return to Cross Technological Enterprises and Hawkeye uses his electronic security neutralizer arrowhead to neutralize the security on a window so they can jimmy it open and get inside.

.... Why do you need an electronic security neutralizer arrow? The way he uses it is tracing the circuit in the window and I don’t think you could shoot an arrow in a way that did that. And if you did shoot an arrow at a security system in a window, I think you’d break the window and set off the alarm?

What a mystery.

Hawkeye has never been in the special projects department but it doesn’t take a genius to find some filing cabinets.

Mockingbird: “Locked, of course. It also doesn’t take an electronic gizmo to open a locked file. Just a hairpin. See?”

Hawkeye: “Showoff.”

This would be banter if Hawkeye didn’t look so somber.

But Hawkeye gets to be useful too when he pulls out his....... penlight arrowhead?

WHY WOULD YOU EVER NEED TO FIRE A FLASHLIGHT? WHAT PURPOSE DOES THAT SERVE??

Mockingbird: “I just don’t know how I ever got along without you and your handy tools, Mr. H.”

DON’T ENCOURAGE HIM

The Silencer guy sneaks up on the duo as they’re snooping the files and something cues Hawkeye in to swivel around and fire an electro-stun arrow. Couldn’t have been a sound so lets say air flow?

The electro-stun doesn’t stun the Silencer so him and Hawkeye end up grappling right out the window. Because that’s the kind of life Hawkeye leads.

Luckily the rocket-sled (although he’s changed the name to sky-mobile by this point) was hovering right outside so the two wind up grappling on it as it rockets around the CTE compound.

The two wind up falling off the sky-mobile and onto a smokestack... God, its starting to be like one of those giant chicken fights...

Anyway, the Silencer catches the edge but Hawkeye misses and goes plummeting into a smokestack, hopefully not to find a Spider-Man skeleton.

The Silencer drops his guard to try to figure out how the heck he’s going to get down from here and Hawkeye reemerges, yanking the Silencer down and pulling himself back up.

Not sure if the implication is that Hawkeye killed him. Hawkeye is famously vehemently ‘Avengers don’t kill!’ and the Silencer isn’t confirmed dead but also never shows up again.

Hawkeye summons the sky-sled (the caption changed the name on me again) and rockets back to where he left Mockingbird and in the meantime she’s found all the information they need to find who hired Cross to build the thing.

Hawkeye: “Run into any trouble?”

Mockingbird: “Not really.”

Hah. Apparently she beat up a room full of guards while he was gone. Good on you, Mockingbird.

November, 1983

Beating the ODDS

Pretty neat cover.

Also, pretty neat logo. I didn’t mention it earlier but yeah you have a neat logo, Hawkeye.

Mockingbird and Hawkeye return to her apartment after breaking into Cross Technological last issue.

Something that they may have done well to ponder is whether maybe it wasn’t a safe HQ anymore if that Silencer guy was able to track them there.

What I’m getting at is that there are two more assassins - Oddball and Bombshell - watching from an adjacent rooftop as the heroes head inside.

And then the apartment explodes.

Hawkey and Mockingbird manage to escape the explosion though because Mockingbird never sweeps and noticed footprints in the dust and Hawkeye used a thermite-tipped bomb-sniffing arrow.

... Okay, that gimmick arrow is valid.

Mockingbird watches her apartment burn “in increasingly sullen fascination” for two hours before Hawkeye suggests maybe coming back after everything is cooled down.

Alas, the sky-mobile was destroyed in the explosion. Alas, alas, we barely knew ye and now you’re gone.

Mockingbird has an odd sense of what’s romantic because she decides that her apartment burning down and losing all of her possessions is.

Wow, she’s been friendly and flirty with Hawkeye but she’s downright into the lug. Right during the one period in his life when he wouldn’t enjoy that. How’s that for bad timing?

Also, someone is clearly shipping these two.

Mockingbird has assorted appearances before this miniseries so I wonder who got the idea to throw her together with Hawkeye. I’ve heard rumors that it was to copy the Green Arrow/Black Canary pairing. I don’t know if that’s true or just an assumption.

Anyway, Hawkeye also finds an 8-ball in the wreckage which is odd and a clue because Mockingbird didn’t have one of those.

The two heroes realize that Cross obviously sent more hitmen after them so they got to figure out this plot before they get got.

Mockingbird withdraws the rest of her money from an ATM (only $97. Freelance superheroing just doesn’t pay...) and Hawkeye insists on spending some of that money on some arrows since he’s down to his last one.

Mockingbird: “I thought you needed specially made arrows.”

Hawkeye: “My new modular arrowheads fit on any target arrow... get ‘em at any sporting-goods store.”

This issue is a gift.

And since they now don’t have enough money to take a cab to where they’re going, they get on the subway.

Where in one of those amazingly contrived comic coincidences, Steve Rogers Captain America happens to be riding the same car!

Cap recognizes that Hawkeye is on a mission and offers to drop everything to help him.

You’re a cool guy, Cap.

Hawkeye has concerns.

Hawkeye: Aw, no. Cap is Mr. Avengers himself. I know I’m at the end of my resources, maybe way out of my depth, but if I let Cap in on it, he’ll wind up running the show... and I’ll end up on the sidelines again, just like it was back in the Avengers.

Pride goeth before something, Hawks.

Although, knowing vaguely what I know is soon upcoming, its a very timely time for Hawkeye to worry about running the show.

Hawkeye: “Ah, it’s nothing I can’t handle, old timer. Just the same old bopping the bad guys stuff.”

Cap: “I read you, soldier. Anyway, you know how to reach me if you get in a jam.”

You’re a really cool guy, Cap.

Hawkeye and Mockingbird get off at the next stop and Mockingbird grills Hawkeye about the hunky stranger, recognizing that he was probably in the superhero biz. Adding some context to Hawkeye not wanting Cap involved perhaps. Although its still a lot of dumb pride.

Hawkeye: She meets Cap in his civvies and is bowled over. No wonder I always looked like a piker around him. You know, I never realized how second rate Cap makes me feel. I’ve just go to solve this whole mess on my own. If I don’t, I may never be able to stand on my own two feet.

Anyway, then an 8-ball rolls and bonks into Hawkeye’s feet and he sees one of the assassins lurking around the corner doing him a taunt.

This issue is a gift for out of context panels. I swear.

Hawkeye realizes Oddball is baiting him but also is the exact kind of impulsive person who takes the bait. So he runs off after Oddball.

Oddball is..... apparently a juggling based assassin. Dunno why that’s such a common thing in comics. But here we are. He’s a juggling based assassin.

Hawkeye runs on ahead after Oddball and Mockingbird gets ambushed by a nun as she follows.

Its that kind of book, I guess.

Also, the nun is the other assassin Bombshell.

She’s got a Black Widow style wrist launcher for incendiary charges.

Hawkeye and Oddball get into an archery vs juggling based standoff, yes really, and then Oddball jumps onto a subway train, further luring Hawkeye. Who should really know better but ignores the part of his brain that some call common sense.

Oddball, by the by, is somewhat of an oddball. He’s just giggling and joking his way through this mission to kill an Avenger. He’s definitely following the maxim that if you do what you love, you don’t kill for money a day of your life. Or something.

When he jumps on the train he goes with “We’re having fun now, all rightee! Care for another shot, sport? I’ll match my speed to yours anyday and twice on Sunday. Time’s up, gotta go. Ta-ta!”

Hawkeye jumps onto the back of a departing subway train to keep up the pursuit and you know what, he seems like he’s having a good time too?

Hawkeye: Man, there’s nothing like a good chase to make me feel great about myself again. Wonder if Oddball would consent to be my regular sparring partner? Cap’s got the Red Skull, Iron Man has the Mandarin. Me, I never had anybody all my own.

He must be feeling some chemistry with this dude if he wants to make him his archnemesis after only one fight.

Although after this

Hawkeye decides that Oddball is way too much to be his nemesis. He’s got standards, dammit!

Oddball runs off the train, pursued by archer.

Oddball: “I could pick him off any time I want. I know I can throw faster than he can shoot. But I’m having just plain too much fun to cut it short.”

Sure, guy.

Oddball and Hawkeye wind up having a stand-off in the rafters of the subway station because that’s the kind of guy Oddball is.

Hawkeye manages to pin the guy down with an arrow to his throat but while he’s been chasing an oddball, Mockingbird got her ass kicked by a bombshell.

So a distracted Hawkeye gets knocked out via bomb to the back of the head.

Bombshell catches Hawkeye as he falls from the rafters and Oddball wonders why not just let him die.

Bombshell: “I just got a call from [the boss]. He wants these two birds brought to him to use in some kind of experiment.”

And so the third issue ends with Hawkeye and Mockingbird being carried off to the perpetrators which saves some time but being brought in as prisoners is less than ideal.

Shoulda taken up Steve on his offer, Clint.

December, 1983

“TILL DEATH DO US PART...”

I guess Hawkeye fuckin’ dies.

He sure has a lot of friends but Johnny Storm looks like he’s annoyed that he has to attend. ‘What the heck, I barely knew the guy!’

Anyway, between issues, Oddball and Bombshell have dragged Hawkeye and Mockingbird to a place and strung them up on a thing.

The place is apparently a mortuary.

And they’ve been strung up for hours judging by how their limbs feel.

The man behind it all shows himself and guy knows how to make an impression.

Not necessarily a good one.

The cross shaped codpiece is killing me.

As is Oddball juggling in the background to remind us that he is a juggler.

Crossfire: “I am Crossfire -- master subversive, brainwasher, and entrepreneur.”

Credit where its due, that’s a funny line.

Crossfire: “In the typical fashion of someone who holds all the cards, I’m going to divulge to you more than you will need to know about me and my business...”

I want to question this but he’s too self-aware about how stupid it is. I have no room to operate here.

Here is something I WILL make fun of.

Crossfire’s real name is William Cross. He is related to the guy that founded Cross Technological Enterprises. So them screwing over Hawkeye was like a family activity.

But he’s using Cross in his codename. Like if Hawkeye was instead Bartonman. It’s a choice.

Anyway, Crossfire was a CIA agent but when he realized that his real interest lie in fomenting disorder for profit, he decided him and the CIA weren’t on the same path.

Which. Guy. Dude. Fella. No.

Crossfire also realized that superheroes would eventually get in his way so he decided that his first goal is to eliminate all costumed superheroes.

Moon Knight and the Thing thwarted a prototype over in Marvel Two-in-One #52 but Crossfire managed to get away to refine his plan.

(For bigger)

His plan is pretty ingenious actually.

He’s going to kill Hawkeye. So far so good. Then dump his body in Central Park where it will be easily found.

The Avengers will find out about his death and have a funeral for him. And Crossfire made sure they’ll use Restwell Funeral because it has the best name! But more seriously because its the funeral parlor the superheroes used for Whizzer’s funeral and because Crossfire will make sure every other mortuary is booked.

HE’S PLANNING EVERY ANGLE.

Then at the service, he’ll activate the Undertaker machine which will send a subliminal RAGE signal to all the superheroes and they’ll fight to the death.

Crossfire: “Yes, I fully expect my lovely chapel to be thoroughly demolished. Don’t worry -- insurance will cover it.”

This is such a hilariously mundane concern.

Anyway, probably the whole funeral party won’t kill each other but it’ll thin the numbers, the survivors will forever be traumatized at what they did, and the government will crack down on superheroes.

And as for why he chose Hawkeye?

Crossfire: “I would think it was obvious, Hawkeye. You are the weakest, most vulnerable known costumed crimefighter in town.”

Ouch.

There’s planning to kill a guy as part of a larger scheme to kill all his friends and then there’s just being hurtful.

Further insulting injury? Crossfire is not just going to kill them. He’s going to make Hawkeye and Mockingbird kill each other by testing the Undertaker device on them.

That settles it. This guy is a dick.

The Restwell mortuary has a super sealed room for testing the device. Twelve inch thick concrete and steel walls and a door sealed with electronic lock. It would take even the Hulk some effort and Hawkeye and Mockingbird don’t even have their weapons.

Plus, there’s three cameras watching the room and the Undertaker speakers are hidden and durable.

Alas, Crossfire wouldn’t make a good Bond villain. He’s too not leaving a blatant way out of his death trap out of arrogance.

Hawkeye and Mockingbird get up close with their backs to the camera so they can whisper and make a plan.

Unfortunately, they can’t really think of a plan other than ‘try to resist brainwashing I guess?’

Mockingbird knows some SHIELD techniques and Hawkeye just promises he’ll try really hard to resist.

Hawkeye: “I really don’t want to hurt you. In the last couple days, I’ve actually kind of started, well, liking you.”

Aw.

Aww.

But Crossfire is a dick still and activates THE UNDERTAKER right after they kiss.

They try to resist but yeah that plan wasn’t a plan and wasn’t even a concept. They start fighting to the death. Ironically, Bobbi “I know SHIELD techniques” Morse throws the first kick while Hawkeye is still trying to resist.

And Mockingbird is a lot better at martial arts than Hawkeye whose muscle memory keeps tripping him up into using a bow that he doesn’t actually have.

This issue is a gift.

But yeah, Mockingbird beats the crap out of Hawkeye. Not that he doesn’t get some hits in. He even manages to surprise Crossfire who was heavily betting on Mockingbird to easily trounce his ass.

Also, during the fighting, Mockingbird manages to kick one of the cameras, jarring it so it points at the ceiling.

And then double kicks Hawkeye in the dick.

Oof.

Watching two people fight to the death, Oddball has a question. How long does the brainwashing sound effect last after being turned off?

Crossfire decides hey actually that’s an interesting thought and turns off the machine to see. Plus, for dick reasons, giving them a brief respite will “make their plight all the more poignant.”

What a dick.

The brainwashing ends almost as soon as the sound does and the two heroes stop beating the crap out of each other to be disgusted by what they were doing.

In desperation, Hawkeye finally comes up with a plan.

It’s not a good plan but he had only a couple seconds and its impressive that he has a plan at all in that brief period of lucidity.

Hawkeye huddles into the corner that the jarred camera no longer covers and goes through his spare (mispelled as space for some reason, shrug) arrowheads and finds a hypersonic arrowhead.

And if he puts the arrowhead in his mouth and activates it, it will be really loud and drown out the ultrasound! Also, shooting hypersonic frequencies INSIDE HIS SKULL will probably be bad for his hearing but what can ya do.

Crossfire reactivates THE UNDERTAKER and Hawkeye activates the mouth arrowhead with his tongue. Which feels like a “dull knife lacerating [his] brain” but at least he doesn’t want to murder all the time.

That’s something!

(Also, it’s a neat touch but the EEEEEE of the hypersonic arrowhead covers the NNNN of the ultrasonic signal. Good SFXing.)

With his wits about him, he can actually beat Mockingbird by using his strength advantage, closing in, and not letting her use her fancier jumpy techniques.

After beating the shit out of Mockingbird and feeling like shit for having to do it, Hawkeye tosses her to misalign another camera, and then feigns that he collapses from exhaustion.

Crossfire thinks that there’s no way that Hawkeye could play dead under the effect of the RAGE NOISE so he’s really down. He sends Oddball and Bombshell to retrieve the two heroes to examine.

While being carried like a potato sack, Hawkeye grabs one of Oddball’s odd balls and knocks out the juggler and then bonks Bombshell unconscious as well before she has a chance to react.

Then, he runs to get Crossfire before the guy has a chance to figure out what’s going on.

Except, Crossfire has cameras all over the dang place and knows what happened and decides that Hawkeye is such a resourceful, worthy foe that he deserves to die by irony.

(Hawkeye has no idea what the guy is saying because he can’t hear a thing after sticking a hypersonic arrowhead in his mouth)

Crossfire tries to kill Hawkeye with his own bow but whoops, remember when Hawkeye was flexing on that guy earlier about his bowstring having an absurd draw weight?

Yeah.

The dingus got irony’d by his own ploy at irony.

Hawkeye ties up Crossfire, grabs his bow and arrows because they make him happy, and runs back to check on Mockingbird.

Hawkeye: “Mockingbird -- ? You with me, sweetheart? We won. I beat them. Every last bloody oen of them. Mock -- ?” She’s not breathing. I - I killed her...!

Mockingbird: “Those tears for me, sport? Aw, shucks.”

Even beaten to hell, Mockingbird gonna sass.

And then they kiss. Which strikes me as... not a good time for it? Her face is all bruised up and she’s got a little blood going on. Ah, whatever.

Awww.

An hour later, the police show up to arrest Crossfire, Oddball, and Bombshell. Presumably Mockingbird called them as Clint still cannot hear a single thing.

Which is unfortunate because Mockingbird comes over to talk and Hawkeye is like ‘geez what is she saying right now? I hope it’s not important’ and decides to get out of the conversation ASAP before she finds out he’s gone deaf and gasp pities him!

Mockingbird: “Look, I’m not much of a joiner or anything. But I must admit that the two of us made one heckuva team. I was thinking... maybe we ought to become an item, you know what I mean? After all, you are one of the cutest --”

Hawkeye: “Yeah, well, see you around then.”

Hawkeye, you absolute fool.

THANKFULLY

Thankfully, Mockingbird isn’t the type to just go ‘wow what a jerk’ without going and ripping a person a new asshole, verbally.

So she did do that. She ran after Hawkeye and ripped him a new asshole, verbally, forced him to explain himself, probably rolled her eyes, and then dragged him to get a hearing aid.

And one week later, they’re married and relaxing in a heart-shaped tub!

Wow, they operate fast!

I mean, in fairness, we knew Hawkeye was like that. He’d known Sheila Danning for like a month before he was contemplating marriage. And we can assume Mockingbird was like that too considering she knew Hawkeye like a minute before waggling her eyebrows and insinuating sex at him.

Mockingbird: “You owe me, pal. Sure, you saved my life. But what I’m going to do to your life is more than just a one-shot deal. I’m not just talking about helping you get a hearing aid. Or the blood test, or the license, or even arranging for a quaint little cottage in the woods. I’m talking about the rest of your life, and the difference having me around is going to make in it. Maybe eloping was my idea, but I’m going to see to it that for the rest of your life, you believe that it was the best idea you didn’t quite hear.”

Hawkeye: “I hear you, Mrs. Hawkeye. I hear you.”

Awwww. They’re a cute couple. And I do like their chemistry.

So that was the Hawkeye limited series. And it was pretty good!

It introduces some lasting changes like ‘being deaf’ and ‘being married’ to the character. Of course, because comics, both of those things will come and go. And in some cases come back. Lets enjoy them while they last.

Next time on liveblogging: something a little different.

Follow @essential-avengers because I just covered a miniseries. And then I had to redo the fourth issue in just an hour because tumblr didn’t save it. Please reward me. Also, like and reblog if you’d like to reblog.

#Hawkeye #essential avengers #essential marvel liveblogging #Mockingbird #Crossfire #you'll get caught up in the #a very important miniseries for hawkeye

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winchester-fantasies · 5 years ago

Text

Even Better

Summary: After you’re almost attacked by demons at the dog grooming boutique you work at, Sam and Dean Winchester take you under their wing. When an unexpected member is added to your group, Dean realizes he may have feelings for you.

Word Count: 3876

Warnings: fluff, show level violence, gruff Dean, sweet Dean, some swearing

Pairing: Dean x Plus Size!Reader

A/N: This was written for an anonymous request: Can I request a dean x plus size reader where she a dog groomer and demons almost attack her at her job and dean and Sam have to watch her to make sure she safe, while they are protecting her dean starts catching feeling for her sweet, animal loving personality and confess his love to her when they get drunk one night! Sorry this sounds so awkward haha 😊😊 Thank you for your request! Hope you like it!! ❤❤

Winchester Fantasies’ Masterlist

The first thing you noticed when you walked through the door of the dog grooming boutique you worked at was the flickering of the lights you had left on overnight. You thought it was strange; you’d replaced the bulbs just a few weeks before. You stopped to watch the light fixture, flipping the switch off and then flicking it back on. The flickering stopped, but the next second you frowned as it started back up. You sighed heavily as you walked behind the counter, depositing your purse in the cubby under the counter. You’d probably have to end up calling the electrician. The last thing you or your boss needed was a short to have to deal with.

You flipped open the scheduler on the counter. Your first appointment was with one of your usuals - a poodle named, Maxine. She was one of your favorites to work with and you couldn’t help but smile whenever you saw her name on the schedule.

You yawned and rubbed your bleary eyes. You sighed heavily. You really shouldn’t have stayed out so late drinking the night before even if it was your best friend’s birthday. You needed a coffee, and desperately. You seriously considered running over to the café next door and grabbing one of their German chocolate flavored coffees. But it would have to wait until later.

You had just stooped down to grab your name tag from the cubby when the bell over the door tinkled. You straightened back up, finding a man and woman standing a little ways from the counter, both dressed in suits.

You smiled in acknowledgment. “Good morning,” you greeted. “How can I help you? Do you have an appointment?”

The man eyed you up and down before clasping his hands in front of him. “Of sorts,” he said vaguely.

You frowned in confusion. “Do you have a meeting with Margo?” you asked, glancing at the scheduler in front of you, searching for an appointment for your boss but finding none.

“No,” the woman clipped.

“Then why are you here?” you asked uneasily, suspicion forming in the back of your mind.

“We’re here for the shears,” the man stated as if you would know exactly what he was talking about.

“I’m sorry, but we don’t sell shears here,” you said. “If you go right down the street, though, there’s a….”

“Stop playing games!” the woman snapped. Her eyes were suddenly pure black. You screamed in terror, backing up and tripping over the chair behind you. You felt yourself falling backwards just as the door burst open. You caught a glimpse of two men rushing in right before you fell to the floor with a thud, your head making contact with the tile with a crack.

Your head was spinning as you struggled into a sitting position. You heard two agonized cries and a sound like sparks crackling in the air before two heavy thuds followed. Silence filled the building and you were about to attempt to get to your feet when one of the men who had rushed inside rounded the side of the counter.

His brooding, green eyes met yours, a look of relief crossing his face. “You okay?” he asked.

You nodded as he extended his hand to help you up. You eyed the dagger in his other hand cautiously, not trusting anyone. Especially after what you’d just seen.

“C’mon,” the man said in exasperation, motioning with his hand impatiently. When you made no move to take his hand, he rolled his eyes and pursed his lips, dimples forming on either side of his mouth. He resheathed the dagger before reaching out for you again. “I’m not gonna hurt you,” he reassured.

You looked at him carefully for a moment more, gauging if he was being truthful or not. Something in his eyes told you you were better off with him than those black-eyed freaks. You took his hand, his strength surprising you as he hoisted you up in one swift movement as if you weighed no more than a leaf. You weren’t exactly small. Not with your wide hips, curves, and thick thighs.

“We gotta get outta here,” he said, jerking his head towards the door. You nodded, looking around for the other man who had come in with the one in front of you. But he was nowhere to be seen.

You glanced down to the two bodies on the floor, blood pooling beneath them. “Don’t look,” the man said, his voice gruff and authoritative. He reached for your hand, leading you outside.

The other man was standing behind a black Chevy Impala, the trunk open wide as he rummaged through a duffle bag. He glanced up as you approached. He shot you a thin-lipped smile, dimples appearing on his cheeks.

You didn’t have time to return his smile as the first man opened the back of the vehicle and gestured to the back seat. “Get in,” he commanded.

You hesitated for a moment, staring into his face. Was it really a wise thing to get into the car of two strange men?

You didn’t have time to think more about it or even protest as he all but shoved you into the back seat. “Get in!” he snapped again, slamming the door closed after you. “Sam! Come on! We gotta go. Now!” He rounded the car quickly before climbing into the driver’s seat.

The taller one came around to the passenger’s side after a few moments, shooting you an almost apologetic smile as he squeezed himself inside.

The vehicle roared to life, the tires screeching soon after as your green-eyed savior peeled out onto the road. Soon you were heading south, the scenery growing denser and the population thinner. A sense of uneasiness once again filled your mind as you listened to the two men talk, their voices low and muffled by the rumbling of the Impala’s engine. Every once in awhile, the taller man would glance back at you, his brow furrowed and hazel eyes filled with concern. You didn’t know what was going on, but the longer you traveled the more questions arose in your mind that needed answers.

You licked your lips and darted your eyes between the two men, the one who’s name was apparently Sam, pulling his phone out of his pocket and opening his web browser. “Where are you taking me?” you finally dared to ask, your voice wavering.

“Somewhere safe,” the driver clipped, never taking his eyes off the road.

You swallowed hard. You weren’t entirely sure you believed him, but nevertheless you nodded.

“I’m Sam, by the way,” the man in the passenger’s seat said, turning to look at you, his dimples once again appearing as he shot you his first genuine smile.

You couldn’t help but grin back. “(Y/N),” you said.

“Nice to meet you, (Y/N),” Sam said. “This is my brother, Dean,” he added, gesturing to the man beside him.

“Oh,” you said simply, not really sure what else to say.

“I’m sure you have a lot of questions,” Sam commented.

You huffed out a harsh chuckle. “That’s an understatement.”

Sam chuckled before turning back around and looking at his phone again. “We’ll explain everything. But right now, we need to get you to safety.”

You nodded again before settling back into the seat, wrapping your arms around yourself and looking out the window at the waning light.

**********

You must have fallen asleep because when you next opened your eyes it was completely dark outside and the car had stopped in front of a shady looking motel. You winced at the crick in your neck, rocking your head side to side, trying to loosen up the tight muscles.

You jumped just as the back door was pulled open, Sam stooping down to look inside. “Hey, you’re awake,” he said with a grin. “Thought I might have to carry you inside.”

You chuckled lightly before climbing out of the car and stretching your body, muscles aching from the stressful day. You followed Sam to Room 111, finding the room clean and surprisingly put together despite the off white walls and stained carpet.

Dean was sprawled out on one of the full sized beds, arm under his head and eyes closed. You stopped, looking between the thinning sofa and other bed, biting your lip. “You can take the bed,” Sam offered as if reading your thoughts.

“Are you sure?” you asked hesitantly. “I don’t mind…” you said, gesturing to the couch.

“No, really,” Sam insisted. “It’s fine. I guess you don’t have a change of clothes do you?”

You bit your lip and shook your head. You’d left everything back at the boutique - your purse, phone, wallet...everything. You looked down at the knee length skirt and peasant top you were still wearing; the clothes on your back were literally the only possessions you had to your name.

“She can borrow one of my shirts,” Dean’s gruff voice broke the silence. You nearly jumped at the sound; you thought he’d already fallen asleep. Instead he sat up with a groan, his eyes tired looking.

He stooped down to rummage through the duffle bag at the side of his bed, pulling out an old and faded Led Zeppelin t-shirt and tossing it to you. “Thanks,” you said, catching it and haphazardly folding it.

“You wanna get a shower?” Sam asked gently. “Might help you relax after everything that happened today.”

You smiled your thanks and nodded before walking to the bathroom. The water pressure was shitty; the water itself barely lukewarm. And the fan in the ceiling did diddly-squat to help circulate air and by the time you were done showering, the small room was hazy with steam.

You quickly dried off, folding your dirty clothes into a semi-neat pile before pulling on Dean’s t-shirt. It swallowed you, the hem falling nearly mid-thigh. You didn’t feel like you were a thicker girl; in fact you felt sexy.

You walked back out into the main room, finding the lights off and both Sam and Dean already in bed, covers up over their bodies. You tiptoed over to your bed, placing your clothes on the nightstand. You were about to pull back your covers when your stomach growled. You grimaced at the sound as it seemed to reverberate around the room.

You bit the inside of your cheek as you carefully considered what you should do. You didn’t have your wallet, but you thought maybe you had some loose change in your skirt pocket from when you’d stuffed it after getting gas that morning. You unfolded your skirt, quietly rummaging through its pockets, coming up triumphantly with three quarters.

You made your way to the door, silently unlocking and unchaining the door. You took one quick look at Sam and Dean, making sure you hadn’t woken them before slipping outside. The night was cool; the hint of fall in the air. Your bare feet padded across the cold concrete before rounding the corner, finding two snack machines crammed into the corner.

You stopped at the first one, surveying the offered items. Most of them were candy bars and chips, which were to be expected you supposed. You knew you needed something more nutritious, but with nothing else to choose from, you finally settled on a Twix. You deposited the quarters, pressed the keys of the slot you wanted, and watched as it dropped to the bottom of the machine. You grabbed it up, turning and hurrying back to the room, the cold starting to seep into your bones.

You rounded the corner again, but stopped dead in your tracks, your heart in your throat. There, not even three feet away, stood a Cocker Spaniel. Its hair was matted and body thin, but its tongue hung loose and happy-go-lucky and tail wagging. It couldn’t have been more than a couple of years old, judging by its height and the puppish-looking face staring back at you.

“Hey, there, cutie,” you crooned, walking slowly over to it, stooping down and extending your hand. Its tail went wild and it - he, you could now see - bounded over to you, practically jumping into your arms and licking your face with wild abandon. You giggled and petted him until he calmed down enough for you to check his collar. You frowned when you found none. “That’s strange,” you said, looking into his soulful, dark eyes. “Do you have a home, Fella?”

He licked your face once more in response. You chuckled before straightening and looking down at him. You glanced from him to your motel room just a few doors down from where you stood. You didn’t know if Sam and Dean would appreciate waking up to a dog, but you couldn’t just leave him alone and homeless.

“C’mon, Fella,” you called, clicking your tongue and patting your leg. Fella immediately responded, loping to your side and easily falling into step with you as you made your way back to the room. “Be quiet,” you whispered, turning the knob and pushing the door open quietly. Fella bounded inside, making a beeline straight for Dean’s bed. “No!” you hissed just as Fella jumped into the bed, landing full force onto Dean’s sleeping form.

“What the fuck?” Dean bellowed, all but jumping out of bed. Sam shot up at the sound of his brother’s exclamation, his long hair askew and eyes dazed. You flipped on the light to see Dean sitting straight up in bed, his face a mixture of shock and confusion as Fella cowered on your bed, apparently having run away at Dean’s outburst.

It finally seemed to register that Dean was looking at a dog because his brow suddenly turned down into a scowl. “What the fuck?” Dean asked again, looking from Fella to you, still standing in the open doorway.

You swallowed hard as you turned and closed and locked the door behind you. When you turned back, both Dean and Sam were staring at you. “Uh, this...this is, Fella,” you said, trying to add as much pleasantness to your voice as you could muster.

Dean looked back to Fella who’s fear of Dean had apparently abated a bit, but who still sat, gauging the still scowling man suspiciously. “You can’t just bring a dog here!” Dean finally snapped, his green eyes blazing as he turned his wrath onto you.

“I...I’m sorry,” you stammered. “It’s just...he was outside. And it’s getting cold. And he didn’t have a collar and it’s not like I could just leave him out there.”

“No,” Dean said, his voice gruff, shaking his head staunchly. “Absolutely not. We’re taking him back to the bunk….”

“Dean,” Sam interjected, finally finding his voice after the initial confusion. “C’mon. We can’t just leave him. He doesn’t look like he’s been fed or had a home in weeks.”

Dean grumbled, his frown deepening before he settled back down, turning away with a loud huff. “Fine,” he clipped. “But we’re not keeping him. As soon as we figure this whole demon thing out and get (Y/N) back to her place safely, he’s gone.”

**********

Dean awoke the next morning to a pair of dark eyes staring into his soul. Fella’s tail was wagging as he scooted forward, his wet nose booping Dean’s before the dog’s tongue licked a stripe over Dean’s mouth. He shuddered and rolled over, throwing off the covers as he sat up.

He found (Y/N) and Sam still asleep, (Y/N)’s body sprawled out on the opposite bed, arms and legs both twisted at angles Dean would never be able to get out of. He shook his head before getting up and going to the bathroom. He was about to close the door when Fella decided he needed to join him, pushing past the half-closed door and stopping just a few feet away and looking up at Dean with pure adoration.

“What’re you lookin’ at?” Dean asked, scowling. He turned around, lifting the seat and relieving himself, feeling Fella’s eyes on him the entire time. Once he was finished, he jumped into the shower, letting the sweat and grime from the day before wash off.

He’d almost forgotten Fella had decided to join him as he stepped out of the shower onto the grimy linoleum floor of the bathroom. He reached for a towel and started drying off when he felt something wet and rough meet the skin of his leg. Dean jumped away, looking down to find Fella languidly licking the water droplets off his leg. “Seriously, dude?” Dean asked, biting back the smile that tugged at the corners of his mouth.

Dean threw back on his boxers and t-shirt before exiting the room, finding both Sam and (Y/N) fully awake and ready for the day. (Y/N)’s face lit up as her eyes settled on Fella. “Hey, there, cutie!” she greeted, bending down and laughing as Fella threw himself into her arms and licked her face.

Dean rolled his eyes, but he couldn’t help but feel a tug at his heart as he watched (Y/N) interacting with Fella. Dean cleared his throat as he pulled out a fresh pair of jeans and a flannel and pulled both on before zipping his duffle back up. “We need to be outta here in ten,” Dean said, turning around and heading for the door.

Sam and (Y/N) nodded in acknowledgement and soon enough they were back on the road, heading for the bunker. Dean kept glancing in the rearview mirror at (Y/N). Her face was more often than not lit up in a wide grin as Fella stayed glued to her side. Dean swallowed hard, shoving down the foreign feeling in his chest and tried to ignore the butterflies he hadn’t felt since he was a teenager fluttering in his stomach.

Along the way Sam gave her the whole monster spiel, her eyes widening in shock and fear as Sam explained that it was demons who had almost attacked her. Sam and Dean thought it was part of a deal that one of (Y/N)’s old coworkers had made with Crowley, the King of Hell; ancient and magical shears in exchange for a life of wealth and fame. But of course there was always a catch. Her coworker’s soul would be Crowley’s in ten years...but they didn’t tell (Y/N) that.

By nightfall they were back at the bunker. Dean climbed out of the Impala, going to the trunk and taking out his duffle and hurrying to the bunker’s entrance. He had to get away from all the overwhelming emotions swirling in his chest. He couldn’t decipher exactly what was going on, but it felt akin to the few times he’d been put under a spell.

His eyes seemed to have a mind of their own as he couldn’t seem to take them off her. He seemed to notice everything about her; the way her hair fell to her shoulders and cascaded down her chest and back; the way her eyes crinkled when she laughed at Fella or at something Sam had said - and god...that laugh. It was like tinkling bells. He bit his lower lip as his eyes followed the way her hips swayed as she made her way down the hall to the bathroom. Fuck, was she the finest specimen of a woman he’d ever laid eyes on. He frowned as she disappeared around the corner. When had he become so sappy? Fuck, he needed a drink.

He got up from the library table, going to the kitchen and pouring himself a good sized cup of whiskey. He took a big swig, relishing the sting as it settled in his stomach and almost instantly relieved some of his nerves.

But in an instant his butterflies were back as (Y/N) walked into the kitchen. “Hey,” she said, her lips turning up into that gorgeous smile of hers.

“Oh, hey,” he said, his voice coming out higher than he’d intended. He cleared his throat and gestured to the bottle on the counter. “You want some?”

“Uh, sure,” she said, coming to his side as he took a tumbler from the shelf and poured her a glass. She smiled her thanks before taking a sip and hissing. “That’s good,” she said. “Been a long time since I had whiskey.”

Dean smiled before making his way to the kitchen table and sitting down, (Y/N) joining him a few minutes later. “So you like animals, huh?” Dean asked, taking another sip of his drink.

(Y/N)’s eyes lit up and she nodded briskly. The next thing he knew, he was listening in avid interest as she explained that she had always loved animals and after she had graduated from cosmetology school, she had decided to invest in that passion and put her skill into practice.

By the time she was done talking, they had both almost finished the entire bottle of whiskey. His mind was fuzzy and all he could think about was how easy it would be to reach across the table and kiss her.

He was still thinking about how her lips would feel against his when Fella sauntered in, immediately going up to (Y/N) and showering her with wet and sloppy kisses. She giggled, leaning down and kissing the top of his head that she had yet to clean.

Dean smirked, that tugging at his heart happening again, this time stronger. “Who gave you the right to be so damn sweet?” Dean slurred. He hadn’t even realized he’d said it until (Y/N) looked up at him, her beautiful eyes filled with both mirth and confusion.

“What?” she chuckled.

“You heard me,” he said, fiddling with his tumbler on the table. “You’re so sweet. And drop dead gorgeous, I might add.”

“Oh,” (Y/N) murmured, her cheeks growing red. She dropped her gaze, but the next second raised her eyes to meet his as he pushed back from the table and walked around to her side. Before she could even register what was happening, Dean had taken her hand in his and hoisted her up. He wrapped his arm around her, his hand pressed to the small of her back as he held her close against him.

He raised his hand to her face, his thumb tracing her cheek. “And I think I’m falling in love with you,” he breathed. Her eyelids fluttered in shock and he heard a soft but audible gasp leave her mouth. He glanced to her lips, so plump and supple. He locked eyes with her again, finding her pupils wide. “I could kiss you right now,” he whispered, his eyes darting to her lips once again.

They formed into a smirk before he looked back to her face, her eyes holding a sultry and enticing look. “Then why don’t you?” she asked.

And he did. Her lips formed around his own, the taste of whiskey on her tongue as she allowed him to deepen the kiss.

It was just as he’d imagined. No, he thought, his grip on her tightening as she wrapped her arms around his neck.... This was even better.

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

Thank you for reading! If you liked what you read, let me know!! ❤❤

***Please do not share my content on any other platform without my consent.

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

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carolyncaves · 5 years ago

Text

Red Lights

FFXV Jeopardy Daily Double for @errantknightess. The request was for comedic MT!Prompto, with some very clever ideas I absolutely loved. I hope this is what you were hoping for!

Huge thank-you to TheRegalHarvester for betaing, this is was a little experimental for me and you were a big help!

They found him wandering around in the desert. At first they thought he had heatstroke. Or at least, that was their excuse for not figuring it out more quickly.

He had weird black clothes, and a weird walk, and when they tried to talk to him, he gave weird answers. He wore a dirty, worn baseball cap that read "Ramuh’s Light" pulled way down over his right eye. It didn't match the rest of him, and he barely looked old enough to drink – plus he seemed nothing like a Leiden good-ole’-boy in Gladio’s opinion – so they suspected he’d stolen it. Or found it.

Noctis asked him where he came from. "I'm from the city," he said, very carefully, an answer he'd obviously practiced in advance.

"Bull shit," Gladio replied.

"Perhaps not," Ignis countered. "Rather, I think the operative question would be: which city?"

His face fell. He hadn’t planned what to do if that didn’t work. "Gralea," he conceded, and there was a lot of yelling after that.

They quickly ascertained he was an MT, that he got separated from his unit, and that he did not want to go back. He told them this less because there were several blades suddenly pointed at his vulnerable parts (although there definitely were) and more because he really had no filter. Gladio growled at him to empty his pockets, slowly, and take off his hat. He didn't have any pockets, he said apologetically, but he did remove the hat, and their jaws hit the desert floor.

He had a few bits of metal embedded in the skin around his eye socket, which must have had some functional relation to the robotic eye seated at their center. It was metallic silver, and the pupil glowed a menacing red that was entirely at odds with the soft, slightly anxious face that housed it.

"He's the Terminator," Noctis breathed.

Gladio grunted. "He's a fricking Niff borg. What are we going to do with him?”

“Maybe we could take him to Hammerhead,” Noctis said. “See if the hunters will watch him until someone can pick him up.”

“No, this is a sensitive security issue.” And potentially dangerous, Ignis thought but didn’t say. “We’ll have to take care of him ourselves.”

There was a pensive silence. ‘Take care of him’ sounded like something out of a mafia movie, and none of them liked the thought of that.

"We'll take him to Cor," Gladio said, "at Cape Caem. He'll handle it. Question him for intel, then put him somewhere the Crownsguard can keep an eye on him."

That plan was deemed acceptable by all parties. Including, apparently, their captive, who’d stood calmly while he waited for them to decide what would happen to him. He knew he hadn’t been very good at deciding things for himself. That was how he got stranded in the desert. It was a bit of a relief, having people to tell him what to do again, especially since they were people who weren’t his old commanders.

"It's a long way to Caem, and he's rather conspicuous," Ignis said.

"Yeah, the glowing red is hard to miss,” Noctis deadpanned.

“Don't suppose you can turn it off or anything," Gladio asked him.

"No,” he replied. “I can’t deactivate it, and it houses the processor for the rest of my modifications. I can only go without it for a short time." And then, to demonstrate, he reached up and did something and his metal eye clicked free into his fingers. They barely had time to process that, or the metal hollow behind it, before he shuddered and gasped horribly and clutched at his chest.

With a panicked “No!”, they lunged toward him in unison, hands everywhere. Between the three of them, they managed to get him to put it back.

"No," Ignis repeated sternly. "No," Gladio agreed, steady hands glued to that trembling chest and back. "No," Noctis promised, looking him plain in the eye.

"Okay," he said weakly. Then he heaved a sad string of stomach acid onto the toe of Gladio's boot and fainted. He did, it turned out, have heat stroke.

---------

They took him to the motel at Longwythe, so they could get him air conditioning and a bed, and food and water, and, well, everything. He accepted each of these treatments with exhausted, listless obedience.

The second day, he seemed a lot more alive. They got him to tell his story (which was horrifying), and he asked them a million questions, about everything from why daemons came out at night to how people got their haircuts (which was … unreasonably cute). He watched Noctis play King’s Knight for hours, mesmerized, and he picked the name "Prompto" himself, out of a magazine. A magazine Gladio had open on the coffee table on the other side of the room.

They all stopped what they were doing and gave him three hard looks.

“You’re telling me you can read that?” Gladio asked.

“Of course," he said.

"So it can zoom,” Noctis said, of the robotic eye. “Is that all?”

"No," Prompto answered simply. No one pressed him to elaborate, but they each tried to imagine.

---------

When they decided he was fit to travel, they gave him a gun. He had to be able to defend himself, Noctis and then Ignis maintained. Gladio grudgingly allowed it, because he seemed perfectly willing to defend them too.

It turned out he actually was a little like the Terminator, in that he was terrifyingly relentless at killing things. He also wasn’t, in that once they exposed him to the concept of high-fives, he insisted on cheerfully exchanging one with each of them after every successful battle. Gladio still wasn’t entirely comfortable keeping him armed, considering his prowess. "Just until we get to Cape Caem," Ignis demurred.

A few days later, when Gladio and Ignis weren't looking, Noctis added Prompto to the Armiger.

When Ignis noticed, when he felt their magical party line stretch to accommodate one more irrevocable door, he let out one of the longest sighs of his life.

---------

It took them two weeks to get to Lestallum – they got sidetracked by a long and unnecessary and debilitatingly heartwarming interlude at the Chocobo Ranch – but Ignis still said they could stay for a few days. To let the weariness of the road wash off them, and to give Prompto a chance to see the city. (Before they handed him over to Cor’s custody for the remainder of the war – or longer.)

The Leville was always a welcome sight, and Prompto seemed to feed off their palpable relief. He was energetic despite the heat, effusively delighted by the crowds of people in the streets, the shady ambiance of the Leville’s lobby, the spacious arrangement and … eclectic décor of their customary room.

“And what’s that?” he asked, pointing at the enormous spider on the wall beside one of the shuttered patio doors.

“Holy shit," Gladio said, leaping back in horror.

"Oh my gods kill it," Noctis said, and Prompto had already readied the emergency weapons system in his modified eye in response to Gladio’s alarm, so he discharged a shot.

"Now let's all remain calm ..." Ignis had begun to say, but the plasma bolt slipped through the air, detonating on impact with the intruding arachnid.

A sudden, still silence filled the room. A golden ray of warm Lestallum sunlight shone through the new hole in their hotel room’s exterior wall. Ignis stood blinking in the gently swirling dust. The chatter and noise of the city filtered in from below, much clearer than usual.

"The target is neutralized," Prompto said, in case they weren't sure.

“Holy shit,” Gladio repeated.

“Well. We can thank the Six for the infinite patience and steadfast loyalty of the managers of the Leville,” Ignis said. “There goes yet another security deposit,” he added more quietly, almost to himself.

“That's a brick wall,” Gladio said, drifting closer to the aperture to get a better look.

“Why didn’t you use the Armiger?” Noctis asked him. He seemed a little hurt.

“Oh – I forgot,” Prompto answered. His gun materialized in his hand. “It was just a reflex, using the eye. Next time I’ll use the gun instead.”

“No,” Ignis and Gladio responded emphatically. Noctis snorted. Then they all sat Prompto down and explained the difference between life-threatening and non-life-threatening situations.

---------

Showing Prompto around Lestallum was a lot of fun, though. Noctis used some gil he’d hidden from Ignis and took him to all the restaurants, buying him as many different foods as possible. He would sometimes babble about internal temperature and chemical compositions (“high capsaicin levels, avoid if possible,” he pronounced before biting into a super-hot hot wing), but the rest of the time he babbled about how much he was enjoying himself. Each new thing was different from anything Prompto had ever had, and he loved all of them. Noctis just kind of let it wash over him. It was dangerously addictive, getting Prompto to smile. Noctis wanted to do it as often as he could while he had the chance.

Eventually they were both too full to continue (even Prompto, who ate like a machine, literally), so they started the slow, sweltering walk back to the Leville, where Noctis planned to introduce Prompto to the concept of a food coma.

But Prompto had stopped talking, and Noctis didn’t want that just yet. “So, like, what do you see with that?”

Prompto reached up and fiddled with his hair. They’d combed it over his evil eye when they arrived – it had seemed too mean to make him walk around with something blocking half his vision, and also wearing a hat like that looked insane. They were trying to keep a low profile, so Ignis had decided they would attempt the subtle approach.

The red glow was only a little noticeable.

“I see the world, plus extra things. Everything around me, I get information, potential uses, potential hazards. Whatever I’m actually focused on, there’s target assist – trajectory modelling based on gravity, wind speed, movement predictions. Living creatures, I get threat assessments … uh, all the people are either ‘high’ or ‘very high’ now, because everyone is an enemy. So right now I’ve got a bunch of red lights in the corners of my eyes. Usually, it’s just you and the others.”

“I’m not your enemy,” Noctis said quietly.

“I know. It’s a dumb computer. I hardly even notice them anymore, especially yours. I always look at your eyes instead.” Prompto swallowed. “Um, I can see infrared. That one I can turn up and down.” He looked up at the Leville. "Like now I can see Gladio and Ignis in our room. It looks like they're engaged in some kind of grappling exercise."

Noctis couldn’t make that series of words make sense. "Huh?"

"Yeah, they're writhing around on one of the beds. Ignis is pinning Gladio to the mattress." Prompto considered the display. "It looks like he’s definitely winning."

It took Noctis a really pathetically long time to figure out what Prompto was describing. When he did, he pressed his hands to his face and slowly bent double at the waist. A long, muffled groan filtered up to Prompto's ears.

"Gladio’s putting up a good fight, " Prompto assured him.

Noctis couldn’t move or speak or exist comfortably for several minutes. When he’d recovered a little, he turned them around and made them go get ice cream. Prompto was still really full, so he didn’t know why he’d changed his mind, but the ice cream was as amazing as all the rest, so he didn’t worry about it.

Later, when they did go back to the room, Noctis’ face was very red. After Gladio kept needling him about it, he walked over and whispered something in both Gladio's and Ignis' ears that made them blush too.

“Your Highness,” Ignis said faintly, “I apologize. Gladio and I, we’ve …”

“Please,” Noctis said. “It’s fine. It’s good. I’m happy for both of you. Let’s not.”

“Of course,” Ignis replied.

Then Gladio sat Prompto down for another lesson. He called this one "The Talk". He kept stumbling and stopping and starting over, so eventually Ignis joined in. Noctis lay limp on the bed. He wouldn’t look anywhere but the carpet.

Prompto thought regular people were very strange sometimes.

When they were done, the room lapsed into an awkward silence. An awkward, thoughtful silence.

“Oh my goodness.” Noctis sat up. He couldn’t believe it had taken him this long to think of it. Probably because of his inferno of embarrassment. “Let’s go fishing. Right now.”

“Seriously?” Gladio said.

“He can see the fish,” Noctis replied. “He can probably read their minds.”

“That’s cheating.”

“It’s winning. I’m going to win fishing. I’ll be king of the fish.”

“Noctis, you are the rightful King of Lucis,” Ignis pointed out, but Noctis was too busy showing Prompto pictures of what a Regal Aparaima looked like to care.

“We’re not going right now,” Gladio said. “It’s almost dark.”

“Tomorrow, then.”

“We should be making our way to Cape Caem,” Ignis suggested.

“We can take a detour to the Vesperpool,” Noctis said, and neither Gladio nor Ignis actually disliked that idea, so they did.

---------

They spent a long afternoon and evening on the edge of the Vesperpool. Ignis took the opportunity to organize his corner of the Armiger, and when he was through with that, he actually sat down and did nothing for nearly fifteen minutes. Gladio pretended to read and dozed in his camp chair. Eventually they both meandered down to the dock, where Noctis was and had been fishing. Prompto hovered at his elbow with his eyes trained on the water – though really only the one mattered at that particular moment. He could see every fish beneath the murky surface, and his HUD predicted their movements based on every twitch of a fin. He spoke quiet, constant analysis into Noctis’ ear, and Noctis caught every fish he wanted. He could pick his targets at will, based on species and size, before even casting his line – and because he knew what his mark was going to do almost as soon as it did, his lines were lasting three times longer. It was, very nearly, like shooting fish in a barrel.

“You’re really gonna make him stand there all day doing that?” Gladio remarked. “He’s not your personal assistant.”

Noctis only had a heartbeat to feel guilty before Prompto said, “I like it.” He’d been holding a fold of Noctis’ shirt between his fingers for the past hour, and for a second he tugged on it, like he was trying to reel Noctis in. Then he shook himself. “Unless that’s bad, in which case …”

“If you like it, it’s not bad,” Noctis said, catching his arm before he could pull away. “I promise.”

“Oh,” Prompto said, clasping Noctis’ arm in return. “Okay.” They cut a striking picture like that – an ex-MT and a displaced prince, pressed close to one another at the edge of the swamp, gazing longingly into each other’s eyes. Gladio could feel a sneeze coming on – he was allergic to sap – so he gave them each a hard shove, sending them into the water with a pair of squawks.

This display of dominance was short-lived, because Gladio immediately jumped after them in a panic – he didn’t actually know if Prompto was waterproof or not. But Prompto came up laughing, and he and Noctis immediately pounced on Gladio. In theory Gladio should have been able to overpower them, but in reality he was toast. Prompto came equipped with enhanced lung efficiency – Gladio swore up and down when he discovered that one, when Prompto latched onto his legs underwater and never let go – and that plus his fast-as-lightning reflexes and strong-as-steel muscles made him pretty much impossible to slip away from.

(Not unlike, Noctis would later point out over their campfire, the Terminator.)

---------

The next morning, Noctis did catch a Regal Aparaima, and then they had no excuse not to proceed to Cape Caem. When they arrived, Noctis stepped out of the car, took a deep breath of sea salt air, and sighed. It was a sigh of relief and some other thing, both wrapped up together. Someone up the hill must have spotted them, because the door to the farmhouse opened.

Luna was there. It had taken Cid forever to get the royal boat fixed, but once he did, he went to Altissia and got her, and now Noctis felt the swift, sudden urge to run and hug her and listen to her tell him everything was finally going to be all right. But Cor was also there, frowning at Prompto, a stranger, and Noctis realized very suddenly that he didn’t want this next thing to happen.

“We shouldn’t tell him,” Noctis said, as the greeting party came down the slope. “Prompto, I’m being serious now, don’t tell them.”

“Little late for that,” Gladio said. “What’s his cover story? What about his fricking eye?”

“At this range, there will be no mistaking it,” Ignis agreed.

With a fwish of the Armiger, Noctis plucked his fishing cap out of thin air and shoved it onto Prompto’s head. Together, they fixed it down over his tell-tale eye.

Then they turned to meet the inquisitive gazes of Lunafreya Nox Fleuret, Cid Sophiar, Iris Amicitia, and Cor Leonis.

“Luna,” Noctis said, and then he did hug her, for a second. She hugged him back just as hard. Then he remembered he was the prince, and someone had to say something, and that someone was probably him. He stepped back and kind of steeled himself. “This is Prompto,” he said mostly to Cor. “We found him –”

“Met him,” Ignis corrected.

“– met him in Longwythe,” Noctis revised. “We. Um.”

“He’s a sharpshooter,” Gladio said, coming to the rescue. “He wanted to do something about the Niffs and he knew how to fight, so he’s been with us ever since. He’s been a big help.”

“He’s a sharpshooter with one eye?” Cid asked, skeptical.

“He has heterochromia,” Ignis said, so casually Noctis and Gladio almost believed it. “He’s self-conscious about it,” Ignis explained.

“That’s all right,” Iris said. “I think that’s really neat! What color is it? Your other eye, I mean – this one’s such a pretty blue.”

Prompto stared at her, searching for an answer. He wasn’t good at lying. He was taking way too long. “Brown,” Gladio said, at the same moment Ignis said, “Grey.”

They both tried not to wince and failed.

Cor gave them a look that was definitely not an eye roll but wanted to be. He reached out slowly and lifted the cap off Prompto’s head. That red metal eye was still under there, right where they’d left it.

“Oh,” Iris piped in a strangled sort of way. “Wow.”

“Yeah, that’s what we thought,” Noctis murmured.

Cid shouldered up next to Cor and leaned in to squint at Prompto’s weaponized eye. “Son, is that Magitek?”

Prompto parted his lips in shock, and Noctis and Gladio and Ignis tried to use the collective power of their minds to will Prompto into saying anything other than yes. Prompto squirmed, looked at them despondently, and answered, “Yes.”

They’d gotten used to long silences, and there was another one after that. One they were sure meant something terrible was finally happening. Then Luna laughed, bright and clear and pure.

“You should see your faces,” she explained at Noctis’ scandalized expression. “A Magitek eye, what’s so wrong with that? You say he’s been a great help to you. It doesn’t matter where he came from – only where he is now.”

Cid and Cor were giving each other a pair of very incredulous looks, and Iris’ face was an uncertain mixture of horrified and horribly curious. But Noctis was pretty sure that with Luna’s unreserved vote, the balance couldn’t help but tilt in Prompto’s favor.

Apparently I can’t write MT!Prompto without making it Promptis and Gladnis. As failings go, it’s not the worst.

Inspo: @errantknightess obviously, who requested a light-hearted MT!Prompto fic where his modifications and instincts are wildly inappropriate for everyday life, which is such a fabulous fic idea I’m surprised you let me have it, honestly, but I’m not complaining. Also this fic by @magitekunit05953234, whose aching take on a heavily-modified MT!Prompto certainly influenced my own.

#my fic #fanfic #ffxv #mt!prompto #final fantasy xv #prompto #ffxv jeopardy #this has been sitting essentially finished in my drafts for literal months #i hope it was worth the (regrettably completely-in-character) wait #thanks again for the request #i really enjoyed writing it #in other news ...#the next chapter of warmth will theoretically come out sometime in our lifetime #meaning i just need to edit it but it's long so that could take some time #i also haven't responded to ao3 comments in so long it's practically criminal #but i've seen them and i love you all #as with the other jeopardy fics i'll post this over there in the next few days

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cinnbar-bun · 5 years ago

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Siegfried is Actually A Demonic Otherworld Dragon (100% Real!! NOT FAKE!!!)

Everyone, it’s time. Put on your tinfoil hats peeps, and I’ll reveal the TOTAL TRUTH ON SIEGFRIED. Reveals spoilers for JJBA AND SOME GBF THINGS

For starters, I want to show you something.

This is Siegfried when he was first revealed. Okay. Legit. Dudes been on the run. Definitely would look like he’s been not sleeping for over a hundred years.

Then look at this:

Do you see something strange?

Hm? Maybe it’s the fact that he looks... younger, even?

He permed his hair and dyed it a lighter caramel, and somehow got rid of his bags? Sorry. I don’t buy it.

But you know what I do buy?

He sucked the life force out of his enemies and victims and made himself younger. Let me tell you a story.

Long ago, an asshole enigmatic nobleman, Dio Brando, wears the stone mask and becomes a vampire. As a vampire, he sustains his life force and youthful appearance by sucking the life energy of his victims.

Simple vampire stuff.

But the creator of the stone mask is one of the most prominent Pillar Men ever, Kars.

See something familiar? The long hair? The bulging muscles?

What if I enlightened you ignorant fools and said they had the same voice.

Kars=Siegfried.

You might be a bit confused, but all shall be explained soon.

Kars, after getting the Stone of Aja and placing it on the mask, becomes the Ultimate Lifeform. He has the ability to control nature itself and turn into whatever he would like (ie, he can grow wings like a bird). How is this relevant-ITS VERY RELEVANT BECAUSE KARS HAS BECOME SO POWERFUL AND UNSTOPPABLE. SO MUCH POWER IN AN ALREADY POWERFUL MAN WHO CAN DO SO MUCH DAMAGE AND PRACTICALLY DESTROY THE WORLD WITH HIS MERE HANDS.

At the end though, it doesn’t last long and he gets blown to space, where he becomes a rock and floats for eternity and stops thinking.

OR SO WE ARE MADE TO BELIEVE

Do you really think a god could merely be stopped like that? I highly doubt such an object in space could remain passively existing there.

But as GBF has shown us-there is a way a God could continue. How?

THE MOON PEOPLE.

The Moon People, from what Second Advent has shown us, is very technologically advanced and promotes efficiency, work, and advancements over ‘inefficient’ things like love, leisure, and enjoyment.

IF KARS WAS FLOATING IN SPACE, I BELIEVE THE MOON PEOPLE CAPTURED HIM AND TOOK HIM IN TO RESEARCH HIM.

Kars has stopped thinking by that point probably, but because it was stated he could not die, he still has some parts of his soul in him. Second Advent also showed us that due to moon research, people are able to transfer consciousness into a vessel/another host (see Alandus).

My proposal is that the Moon People wished to create a powerful vessel that they could study and use to enhance their own race.

But, I’m going to take it a step further. It was simply too much to create a creature that powerful, furthermore, they would need something to transfer Kar’s soul into.

I mean, I dunno if any of y’all ever seen Shadow the Hedgehog, but Shadow was created by combining the blood of an alien named Black Doom with the power of the chaos emeralds and stuff. Same gist over here.

The Moon People, wanting to test their limits, made a pact with an Otherworld creature in order to gain some of their blood to help revive the vessel they would use to research. The Otherworld creatures work and deal in lives/souls. Think Dark Jeanne and Aglovale. Sacrifice is needed to keep the vessel going.

So, the Moon People, after finally creating this creature, try to deal with it but find it’s much too chaotic and too uncontrollable to deal with, so they send it to live amongst the skydom. It is equally as chaotic and unpredictable as the vessel they made, so they try to study it in hopes of seeing different results they never would have before.

Now here’s where shot gets crazy. I’m gonna take a page out of @tainbocuailnge ‘s book and borrow their theory about FGO Siegfried being Fafnir and apply it to here.

Basically, the vessel the Moon People and Otherworld creatures worked to create is Fafnir. Of course, since the Otherworld creatures demand sacrifice and ‘balance’ they decide to go ahead and transfer a bit of Fafnir’s power into a knight that tries to slay it. Fafnir is simply too destructive to exist on its own, and they need to create something that can be capable of defeating that destruction.

The knight that comes is ‘Siegfried’ or basically, what he was before he became the Siegfried we know and love today. Siegfried ‘slays’ Fafnir, although as we later find out that he simply sealed it away (more on that later). The knight that exits is not the ‘Siegfried’ he was before, but instead a new, reborn and potentially powerful creature that the Otherworld can use.

Siegfried tries to be the good knight he was before, but due to the Otherworld blood in him, he too has his moments of chaotic feelings and emotions. The Otherworld knows this.

Siegfried, now paraded as a hero, can freely live his life and continue to be the ‘savior’ everyone wants him to be. He now has the ability to infiltrate and gain trust of those around him. The Otherworld’s desire to take control has him act as a loyal Knight and Commander to King Josef and all of Feendrache. He can’t go exploiting his cover too soon. Not when there’s just so many things he needs to do.

But, since like I said before, to maintain his life force, he needs energy from other people. He can’t just exist at full strength and do what he needs, nor can he just drink peoples life energy away.

So he continues on, doing his best to carry out King Josef’s will. In that time, he finds out about Isabella, and the two co-conspire. In exchange for helping her get rid of Josef, she will offer him human sacrifices. They both have their own ideals, but realize they can’t do it alone and need to gain Josef’s full trust.

Siegfried manages to, as Josef entrusted him with the location of a secret passage/stairwell that leads to a jail cell where prisoners could secretly be out there without anyone knowing.

Then comes the day when Isabella murders Josef and frames Siegfried. This is a part of their plan. Isabella plans to kill Josef, frame Siegfried, and have him go on the run. While he’s on the run, he can form black-market level connections and discreetly find out about other kingdoms and magical/powerful things that can help in their quest for power. Isabella then becomes King Carl’s advisor and plays him like a puppet, while Siegfried’s name was slandered.

Notice, Siegfried always brings up his loyalty to Feendrache, but I want to show THIS evidence that proves otherwise.

After Lancelot, Vane, and Danchou go down the staircase and find the village Chief as well as Siegfried, this convo appears.

Siegfried basically admits that at any point in time, he could’ve broken them out. He has the power to stop the knights trying to fight them, he has the power to break the villagers out, and he knew they were in there the whole time.

And yet, for years, he did nothing.

Would a hero reaaaalllyyy do that? Why would he simply leave them there?

Like I said earlier, he has the power to do so, and the following cutscenes literally show him beating them with ease.

This, much like most of Siegfried’s appearances, is to seem like a hero and continue his facade of a valiant and strong warrior.

Consider, also, he knew about Aglovale, and did nothing to stop him earlier until war was about to break out.

Siegfried does this routinely to make himself appear trustworthy. The more people who trust him, the more powerful he can become. The more powerful he is, the more he can enact the will of the Otherworld creatures and do what he was created to all along- Test Potential. He was created to continuously overpower himself again and again, doing feats seemingly impossible with a calm and demure smile.

The moments he spends with his Dirt Kids are to distract from the obviously shady person he is. I mean, hell, his behavior even continues with Danchou too. Just because you are nice and trustworthy, it doesn’t mean shit to him.

In the Dragon Knights skin, the description says:

“Every gentleman knows that stepping out in style requires both polish and an eye for fashion. The contrast in the dark and light theme lends to the attire's mature calm and allure. And while a cool expression may veil one's true intentions, a simple bouquet of deep red roses whispers secretly of love.”

I mean, ‘a cool expression may veil one’s true intentions’-INCREDIBLY SHADY. And also, notice the mention of ‘contrast in the dark and light’. Also shady.

Look at his outfit closely. Most colors are used to symbolize different things, and usually, white represents purity, while black usually represents dark and more repulsive emotions.

His coat is WHITE. When you wear a coat, you’re concealing your body from the cold. In this case, it’s symbolistic for Siegfried acting on his facade as a pure righteous hero, defending justice and being loyal to those whom he serves.

But it’s not the full trust, as Siegfried is wearing a black suit, and notice, one of his hands (concealed with a white glove too), is in his pockets. The other hand, carrying a bouquet of roses, is concealed in his slouched form, partially covered by his coat.

He’s using you. Saying ‘I love you’, as to convince you that he’s there for you and cares for you. He is. But not for the reason you want.

As you’re the Singularity, you have potential. You have the potential to exceed potential, each time overpowering what was thought to be impossible. I mean, plenty of creatures/characters were interested in your potential.

But, by this theory, Siegfried was created to exceed potential as well. You are a perfect example of what potential is, and he craves for that kind of power that you could have. He loves your potential, the power you could provide, the change you can make.

If he could just grasp your potential, perhaps even take your life energy, he could become the powerful entity he was always meant to be.

#granblue fantasy #shitpost #gbf #siegfried #granblue fantasy shitpost #long post #theory #this is a joke #unless.....?

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hellyeahomeland · 5 years ago

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[Hi, friends. It’s been an emotionally exhausting week and we didn’t want to miss out on the chance to highlight some of the truly visually stunning shots of this episode. But! The prospect of doing a regular write-up was… daunting, to say the least. So we’re going more casual this week. --Sara]

“Chalk Two Down” | Directed by Alex Graves, Cinematography by Giorgio Scali

Sara: This is a whip pan. For some reason my brain wanted to say “zoom.” Remember Zoom on PBS? Anyway there was a lot of handheld cam this week. We don’t need to tell you what that means.

Gail: I really love how the lighting has been used to show who is in the dark and who is not. In this instance, Max has no clue what has happened, but what I love about Max is how he immediately jumps in to help.

Sara: Sorry, but this shot of Saul, Mike, Carrie, and Owens is hysterical. This looks like the cover of the debut album of a new rap group called Carrie and the Homies. Gail, what would their album be called?

Gail: “Sabotage” -- or is that a little too on the nose??

Gail: G’ulom is no longer playing the game and that is made clear when the camera pans to show him with his back literally turned on the United States.

Sara: G’ulom is a baddie and I’m here for that. Love that he’s not facing the front here. He could not give fewer fucks!!

Gail: I love all of the perspective shots throughout this episode. This shot from above Max adds weight to his realization that he very easily could have been on that helicopter.

Sara: Poor Max.

Sara: As Gail so astutely pointed at, as the episode progresses, Saul retreats farther and farther back in the ops room.

Gail: I’d call this album “Royally Screwed.”

Sara: Major LOST vibes!!

Gail: Yes! Let’s hope Max finds the hatch! (But seriously, another great perspective shot.)

Gail: I’m going to need Beau Bridges on a weekly comedy where he smiles, warmly, all of the time. Desperate times, people.

Sara: I will miss you, Beau! Lots of things were blood-stained this week.

Sara: After they announce Beau is dead, they start shooting Hayes in these big close-ups. Lots of great reactions from Sam Trammell this week. He’s hot and he’s in over his head.

Gail: Where’s Sookie?

Gail: I love that the two VP’s had such different reactions Hayes is nervous, shaken and takes off in a pretty weak attempt at a Saul walk to hide in his office.

Sara: More shaky cam in the West Wing. Uncertainty of the moment, etc. etc.

Sara: IJLTP.

Gail: By contrast, G’ulom is focused, strategic and decisive, giving orders and any semblance of a friendly facade is gone.

Sara: We love a good walk and talk.

Gail: Ugh, Tasneem.

Sara: They so shady.

Sara: Homeland already explained the meaning of the mural but I also thought this might have been a tongue-in-cheek reference to the season five graffiti incident. Like, “Hi, here we are, paying attention to graffiti for once.” Just me?

Gail: Yes. But also does this look like Tommy Chong to you? Is Alex Gansa a (secret?) Cheech and Chong fan?

Sara: PERISCOPES

Sara: I don’t even think I know what a Rolaid is. More blood on his speech. Beau--or whichever production assistant penned this speech--has nice handwriting.

Gail: Rolaids are like Tums. I love the details throughout Homeland episodes. Maybe Max can use these as breadcrumbs for Carrie to help find him?

Gail: Another great perspective shot. It also illustrates their perilous position -- they do not have the higher ground and that does not bode well for them.

Sara: This shot is so eerie. This mountainside was too quiet.

Sara: I loved this moment when the rock rolls down the mountain. First, it was funny and this episode (and all other Homeland episodes) greatly needed comic relief. But it was also a weirdly literal representation of a trickle-down effect. I really loved it.

Gail: The choreography of these scenes was so realistic and the quietness of this specific scene is literally the calm before the storm of Taliban fighters down the mountain.

Sara: The way they shot Carrie’s reaction to learning the president was dead felt unique. It’s like we’re eavesdropping on the moment.

Gail: Have I mentioned how much I LOVED the perspective shots this episode?

Gail: Alpha Mike has arrived.

Sara: Mister Big Boy Mike finally asserts himself! Saul can choke.

Gail: Another great perspective shot paired with another great use of a silent moment in this scene. I wonder if it was intentional to have the shadow of the President’s desk looming just above him in this frame?

Sara: Ooh, good point! Also, another whip pan. Hayes walking around his office alone while everyone is freaking out feels weirdly relevant to our current cultural moment.

Sara: Homie is a MESS.

Gail: IJLTP.

Sara: God, this body language. Again, Saul can choke.

Gail: Saul has moved even farther back in the room and down the totem pole. Carrie seems to be the only one with Saul’s back. Does he have hers?

Sara: This reaction from Carrie here reads as total betrayal. Saul just sulks and is so defeated, but Carrie never gives up. I LOVE YOU, CARRIE.

Gail: Carrie’s tenacity and resilience are on full display here as she LOOKS OVER HER SHOULDER at Saul.

Gail: 1) IJLTP. 2) Another perspective shot, one of my favorites from this episode. 3) Max is in the dark as he tries to quickly find and remove the orange black box. But light is making its way through… hope that is intentional foreshadowing and not ominous that Max’s nine lives have run out.

Gail: The pop of color the orange but really red looking black box gives this shot is gorgeous and sad. So much blood spilled in the time it took to get it. Will it be worth it?

Sara: What an unforgettable shot. You can hear the bomb hiss overhead.

Sara: These three homies just stand there, emotionless. You can see the flash from the bomb illuminate their faces, ever so briefly.

Gail: The bomb blows up in their faces. Literally.

Gail: Unlike Saul, President Hayes ended this episode standing in the front of the room very much in charge.

Sara: This is our president, folks! Don’t you feel safe?

Sara: I stan this crane shot.

Gail: More silence.

Sara: I can’t believe I’m saying this but poor Haqqani??? I hate this show.

Sara: The difference between Carrie and Saul here is striking. Carrie sits up, face forward. Saul is hunched over, head to chest. Saul can choke.

Gail: Saul in the back of the room, seated, head down and defeated. Alpha Mike standing above them feels ominous.

Gail: Sam Chance is pretty even when he’s pretending to die. But in all seriousness, we talked on the podcast about how quickly and quietly his death came. It was without warning and there was no way to save him. An all-too-true depiction of the reality of war.

Sara: No.

Gail: Oh Max!

Sara: Also no.

Sara: I love love LOVED the way they shot this and how you can see Max’s fingers curl slowly around.

Gail: This episode is so gorgeous in spite of the ugliness going on throughout it.

Gail: Carrie is literally leading Saul back to the front of the room.

Sara: Carrie’s got shit to do! Saul can choke.

Gail: The perspective shot here, the lighting, the score, having Carrie in his ear. It was *chef’s kiss*. Max has come so far from being Virgil’s sidekick. I love how front and center his storyline is this season. But it stresses me tf out!

Sara: BIG FAT NO!!!!!

#homeland #homelandedit #in the director's chair #chalk two down #alex graves #giorgio scali #*#by: sara #by: gail

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dabiapologist · 6 years ago

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[My Hero Academia Fanfiction]: Like We’re Running Out of Time

For the DabiHawks Gift Exchange 2k18!

@how-to-train-your-kirishima , Surprise! I was your partner for the exchange! Sorry for being a day late, hope you enjoy the fic <3

Rated E

Word Count: 6.2k

Tags: Hooking up, on the DL, Anal Sex, Blowjobs, Handjobs, Semi-Public Sex, Exhibitionism, Light Dom/sub, Light Bondage, quirks used for sex, Overstimulation, Sex Toys, Gift Exchange, dabihawks gift exchange, #NSFWDabihawksGiftExchange, Bottom Dabi (My Hero Academia), Bratty Bottom Dabi is my life force

It’s funny to him how Dabi is both the main source of his stress and the relief at the same time.

Read it on || AO3

Hawks learns early on that Dabi is capricious by nature.

He often wonders if it’s a villain thing or a Dabi thing to be as fickle and unhinged as he is; probably both. So when Dabi unexpectedly grabs him by the sleeve and pulls him into a bar, Hawks decides it’s not worth the effort to fight it. He’d been in a sour mood for most of the night, for reasons which remain a mystery to Hawks, given that Dabi is not much of a sharer.

But now, two hours in and an untold number of tequila shots later, Dabi seems to be in much higher spirits and is once again tugging at his sleeve-- this time they’re headed for the bathroom.

“If you stretch my sleeve out you’re buying me a new jacket,” Hawks mutters. It barely registers over the booming bass coming from the stage at the other end of the bar, and Dabi doesn’t react, so Hawks assumes his complaint went unheard.

They’re barely in the door before Dabi grabs him by the collar and shoves him into one of the stalls. Between the four of them: Dabi, Hawks, and both of his human-sized wings, it’s cramped as all hell in the tiny stall but that makes no nevermind to Dabi, who looks wicked and determined.

“Here ?” Is the only thing Hawks can say when Dabi bites at his lips. Dabi likes to kiss with teeth.

“Yeah.”

This is a popular bar. It’s crowded. There’s people walking in and out of the bathroom as they speak; some laughing, some puking, some thoroughly wasted. Hawks flushes, arousal and anxiety growing the more packed the bathroom gets. He’s not known for his expert silence during sex, and the walls in this bathroom are the kind that carry sound a little too well.

His only saving grace is that, whether for ambiance or frugality, the lighting in here is shit. No one would be sober enough to recognize his silhouette.

“People are gonna hear us, you know.” He whispers.

Dabi kisses him deep and slow, completely unguarded as he wraps an arm around Hawks’ neck. He tastes like a night full of bad decisions. He can feel Dabi smiling against his mouth between kisses and nips, but he doesn’t say anything for a long while. Gradually, his free arm slides down his back, the heat enough to set his feathers quivering against the cold stall wall, over his hip, down between them to cup the prominent bulge in Hawks’ pants.

Dabi is capricious. He lives and fucks like he has nothing to lose.

“Then we’ll make it good for them, too.” He finally says.

And, fuck, it is impossible to say no to him when he starts to sink to his knees, looking up at Hawks with those cold blue eyes as he tugs his zipper down.

Hawks huffs, resigning himself to a blowjob in a dirty toilet stall in a shady bar. This isn’t how he used to spend his Thursdays.

“Or...we can go back to your place, if you’d prefer?” Dabi says with a teasing smile. Hawks glares back down at him. Like hell I’m going anywhere like this. His cock is rock hard in Dabi’s warm hand, and the warmer it gets, the more of a fog Hawks’ mind falls into.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” Dabi says quietly, laughing. Hawks doesn’t care enough to respond. He leans back against the stall wall, sighing every ounce of tension out of his body as his eyes slide shut. It’s been a long week, and right now, the thought of his cock in Dabi’s mouth is the only thing that is keeping his mood and stress above water.

It’s funny to him how Dabi is both the main source of his stress and the relief at the same time.

He tamps down a throaty moan when Dabi takes the tip in his mouth way too tenderly, gently flicking and circling his tongue over the tip for a bit before taking it a little deeper. The wet sounds of Dabi’s mouth moving over his cock seem to reverberate in the present quiet of the small bathroom.

Right now, it’s empty, so Hawks allows the soft groan that’s been building in the back of his throat to finally escape. Dabi hums around his cock in response, quickening the pace.

“Fu-fuck, Dabi…” Hawks grunts when Dabi takes his full length in his mouth, mouth vacuum tight around his cock. His leg jolts when Dabi releases him with a wet, lewd pop, taking some time instead to suck one of his balls.

His phone starts vibrating in his pocket. It is then that Hawks vaguely remembers that he is still technically on duty, so he’s obligated to check who it is that’s calling. But just as his hand starts to slide into his pocket, Dabi licks up the underside of his dick so torturously slow that all conscious thought leaves him in that moment.

“God, Dabi, I love your fuckin’ mouth,” He moans out loud, the words not coming from his brain, but from every inch, every nerve in his body.

“Yeah, I know you do.” Dabi says with a chuckle before leaning back in to finish him off.

“Do the thing, pl-please,” Hawks begs-- he absolutely hates hearing the need in his tone, but he needs to end this week on a high note, and there is no higher note than the sheer euphoria that comes with the orgasm that Dabi can give him.

“Man, the live band is really awesome tonight, what’s the na-”

Fuck. Some guys just walked in, disrupting the perfect heat and tension in the room. But it’s only for a second. Dabi has him fully in his mouth again, his cockhead hitting the back of his throat hard and fast, and he knows Dabi heard him. He knows Dabi knows what he needs.

If they hear him come, oh fucking well.

Truth be told, his body has been aching for this for weeks, and it will not be denied for a second longer.

“Yo, shh… I think someone’s getting blown in one of the stalls…” Hawks overhears one of them say. He could laugh. That’s putting it pretty fucking mildly, he’d say.

The cat calls start not long after, but Hawks is too far gone to be irritated by it. If anything, it only adds to the mood.

“Suck him good, baby,” One of them says, and he can feel Dabi pause. He slowly pulls back, giving Hawks’ cock a teasing lick.

“Oh, I am,” He calls back, effectively silencing the lot of them, “Now either shut up or fuck off.”

Hawks loves the silence that follows. He’s not sure if they’re still there or not, but he could care less.

Dabi takes him by the tip again, head bobbing good and slow over the turgid flesh. Hawks’ hand flies into Dabi’s hair on reflex, wordlessly begging for that sweet heat. And Dabi always obliges him, if only to hold it over his head later.

His mouth falls open, letting his shuddered and uneven breaths come out unhindered. Dabi’s mouth starts to get hotter as the seconds go by. He doesn’t alter his pace, keeping Hawks on a smooth, slow gradient. But his mouth is fit tight around his reddened cockhead, his soft moans as he moves sending pulses up Hawks’ body as the temperature rises.

Dabi has truly mastered every aspect of his quirk. Hawks both loves and hates how impressive his control is. Both over his quirk, and over both of their bodies.

His climax is not silent, and it’s not gentle.

He chants Dabi’s name over and over again, gripping Dabi’s hair and the stall wall behind him hard as his body spasms and twitches in Dabi’s grip. Dabi keeps blowing him even after he’s spent, relishing in the squeaks and pitchy whines Hawks lets out at the overstimulation. His mouth is still so deliciously hot as it moves over his cock.

“Fuck, you’re so good…” He purrs, delirious with bliss and very, very drunk. Dabi finally lets him go after a few minutes, but not completely. He licks and kisses along Hawks’ cock, from the still oozing tip to the thick vein along the underside.

“...Damn… Can I get next?” The person in the next stall suddenly says.

That's the first and only time Hawks ever sees Dabi genuinely laugh.

Turns out, the call he had ignored was from his overlords at the hero commission. And come the next morning, they are none too pleased with him and his spectacular lack of reportable intel.

“How close do you think you are to gaining entry into the league?”

Hawks sighs. “Frankly, not any closer than I was last time. My, uh-” His cock is still pleasantly sore from the searing blowjob Dabi gave him last night, and it takes a lot of focus for him not to zone out thinking about Dabi and his hellishly hot mouth around his cock.

“-my liaison in the league isn’t known for his… what’s the word I’m looking for here… his, uh, chattiness ,” Hawks helps himself to the glass of water one of the secretaries set down for him. “It’s taking a little longer to crack him than I anticipated.”

His phone buzzes twice while his boss continues to lay out their plans for the league. Hawks discreetly peaks at the screen.

Speak of the devil.

Where r u

Rude. Hawks scoffs as he quickly types a reply.

Busy rn ill text u later

“Hawks, did you hear a word I just said?”

Hawks quickly snaps back to attention. “Yes ma’am. Sorry, got a text from one of my sidekicks. Nothing serious.”

She looks unconvinced, but lets it slide. “Fine.”

His phone buzzes again a few minutes later.

Does it look like i can wait til later?

(1) New image

He shouldn’t open it. Not here, not now. Hawks knows this. This would be the literal worst possible time to see whatever it is Dabi sent him. He knows it’s probably dirty, probably a little x-rated.

And yet, here he is, with his finger still hovering dangerously over the attachment.

Hawks chews his lip. Fuck it.

He opens it. Dabi’s unfairly pretty blue eyes stare back at him, looking incredibly smug for someone who clearly has no clothes on. He’s lying on his stomach, butt naked. From the angle he took the picture at, Hawks can only get a small glimpse of that tight, pert ass over Dabi’s shoulder, but he’s sure that was the point. Dabi only ever shows enough to entice. To incite a reaction.

He’s definitely gotten what he wanted, in that regard.

“Motherfuck,” Hawks pants out loud. Luckily for him, everyone is listening rapt to the presentation and no one hears him. He studies the picture a little more, drinking in the little subtleties. Dabi looks damp, his hair hanging more in his face than usual and curling at the ends. Droplets of water are visible on his bare arms and the top of his chest.

Now it’s Hawks turn to ask.

Where r u?

But after he sends the text, he stares at the picture, sharp eyes zeroing in on a very familiar sight. That plaque on the wall behind Dabi is all too familiar. Because Hawks’ name is on it.

And Dabi’s response confirms what Hawks already knows.

I'm in your room. Hurry up and get here.

Another text comes before Hawks has a chance to fully process the first.

I’ve been lying here fingering myself for the past half hour. Prepping for you.

Hawks can’t help but smile at the marked change in grammar and punctuation that takes place when Dabi sexts him. It’s kind of cute.

Oh yeah? He texts back, Are you nice and stretched for me?

He can feel his cock starting to harden in his pants. Shit.

Dabi’s next text gets him rock solid. He can practically see the smirk on Dabi’s face as he types it out.

No resistance.

“Sorry to interrupt everyone, but I have an emergency that just came up.” Pfff. Understatement of the fuckin’ year.

He waves off their protests and races out of the room without looking back once. He doesn’t bother with the stairs or elevators. Instead, he pushes open a nearby window and jumps out, letting the wind catch his wings. His place is a ways off from this building, but he’s a fast flyer, especially when something worth the strain he puts on his wings is waiting for him.

Because when Dabi says ‘no resistance’, he isn’t just talking about his body.

***********

“I was in a meeting.”

“Don’t care.”

“It was important .”

“And yet here you are, in bed with me.”

Hawks grins against Dabi’s skin, gives it a slow lingering kiss, savoring the tingling in his lips from the warmth. “What can I say? You’re very persuasive. I saved that selfie, by the way. In case I ever need to blackmail you.”

Dabi groans something unintelligible into one of the pillows as Hawks rolls his hips once last time before finally pulling out and lying down next to him on the damps sheets. They lie in comfortable silence for a bit, each coming down from their climaxes, letting their bodies cool off. Hawks’ eyes fall shut and he slings an arm over his eyes with a satisfied sigh.

“I needed that,” He says after a while. His hand moves from its resting place on his stomach, slides down his front to reach for his cock. He tugs the condom off gently and ties it off before tossing it vaguely in the direction of his waste bin. It lands on the floor instead.

Dabi mumbles something in agreement before shifting to a more comfortable position. Well, about as comfortable as he can get really; Hawks’ feathers are tight around his wrists and wrapped around the metal bars of Hawks’ headboard. The bright red against black lacquered metal quickly reminds the both of them of Dabi’s current captivity.

“Are you gonna take these off of me any time soon?”

“What’s the matter sugar , are they too tight?”

He gets the reaction he was hoping for. Dabi turns to him slowly, eyes sharp and irritated behind heavy lids.

“They’re fine. And don’t call me that again.”

Hawks chuckles, biting his lip. He fishes around under the sheet, feeling for the tiny remote that had gotten lost in the midst of the vicious, frantic fucking that had taken place not twenty minutes ago.

“You’re tied to my bed, Dabi,” Hawks says when he finally finds it. He taps “ON” and dials it up to the second setting. Immediately, a soft buzzing whirs from underneath Dabi’s body, and the other man hisses a curse. “I don’t think you’re really in any position to be telling me what do right now.”

He dials it up to three as he lies back, propping himself up on his side. “You bought this ticket, now you’re taking the fuckin’ ride.”

Four.

Dabi’s already panting softly and writhing at the suddenly way too intense stimulation; Hawks licks his lips with a pleased noise as he watches Dabi’s hips start to grind into the mattress. But the bullet strapped to the underside of his cockhead isn’t going to be moved so easily. He made sure of that.

“Fuck,” Dabi moans, his voice rising a couple of octaves. But Hawks can see the smile on his face as he struggles against the intense sensations. He loves this.

“Want it higher?”

Dabi mumbles something that barely sounds human, let alone Japanese. Hawks leans over and gives him a swift slap on the ass. He never thought he’d see the day where he got to hear Dabi, serial arsonist and murderer, leader of the Vanguard Squad of the League of Villains, and Shigaraki Tomura’s right-hand man, yelp like a child, but since they started hooking up, it’s become a sound that Hawks is not only familiar with, it’s one that goes straight to his cock every single time. He strokes himself a few times as he sits up and walks in his knees to seat himself between Dabi's spread thighs. It doesn’t take much effort to get himself fully hard again. Dabi makes for a hell of a sight.

“Words, Dabi. Use your words.” He instructs as he rips open another condom and slides it on.

Dabi licks his lips. “Ye...yes. Higher. Please.”

Hawks shuts it off instead.

The feathers around Dabi’s wrists come undone briefly, if only long enough for Hawks to immediately grab him and roughly flip him over onto his back. They return to their previous position as Hawks makes himself comfortable between Dabi’s spread legs. He scoots in closer and pulls Dabi’s legs further apart, one resting on each side of him and giving him full access to any and every part of Dabi’s body he wants tease.

“That's better,” He says with a chuckle and dials the bullet up from “OFF” all the way to seven.

The noises Dabi lets out are primal.

Hawks strokes himself in time with Dabi’s harsh pants, letting his free hand caress over Dabi’s thighs, his abs, down to fondle his balls, and finally back up to ghost over his cock. Not that that needs any extra help. It’s thick and purpled, and pre-come is already leaking out onto his stomach.

“God, Dabi, you look so fucking hot right now,” Hawks whispers as he reaches for the lube sitting off to the side. He squirts a bit on his fingers and rolls them around to coat evenly.

No resistance. Those are Hawks' favorite words.

He loves the way Dabi’s back arches up off the bed as he slides a finger inside him, his name coming out like a breathy sigh. Hawks likes this side of Dabi the most; the pliant, primal, submissive side, the side that likes to lose itself in pure sensation, in pure ecstasy. Nothing else matters, if only for a while.

He slides a second finger in as he dials it up to eight.

“God, Hawks,” Dabi moans loud, breathing ragged and uneven as his body shudders and squirms and he rolls his hips in Hawks’ grip, wordlessly pleading for the slightest touch. Hawks swears he could blow another load from hearing Dabi say his name like that alone. It won’t be much longer until he loses control and gives in to the urge to plow right back into that perfect, addictive heat, but he staves it off a little longer. Watching Dabi unravel is half the fun, after all.

When he dials it all the way up to the highest setting, Dabi screams bloody murder.

“I can’t, I can’t, I can’t,” He chants over and over, furiously tapping his hand on the bed. Hawks grins down at him and shuts the bullet off. Dabi moans hoarsely as his head falls back onto the pillow, his entire body visibly unclenching and relaxing into the soft mattress. “Holy shit,” He pants out, trying to catch his breath.

“Aww,” Hawks coos, raking his fingernails up the inside of one of Dabi’s thighs, thoroughly pleased at the violent shiver that travels up the other man’s body at the sensation, “Had to tap out on me, Dabi?”

Dabi tries to kick him. Or at least, that’s what Hawks thinks he’s trying to do, as the only thing Dabi can really manage at the moment is a mumbled curse and a weak spasm of his leg.

“That one...that one is way stronger than the other one,” Dabi chokes out after a minute or two, “I need a few minutes.”

Hawks sits up on his knees and stretches out on top of Dabi, hands on either side of his head.

“Gimme a kiss,” Hawks says quietly.

Dabi leans up obediently, or as much as he can with his hands still bound, still breathing hard and struggling against Hawks’ feather bindings. “Come closer, asshole,” He mutters, trying a few times in vain to reach Hawks, who keeps playfully rearing up out of range. Dabi growls, frustrated, and starts snapping, trying bite instead of kiss.

“Whoa, easy,” Hawks chides, licking his lips, and then he leans down to lick Dabi’s, too. The second their lips brush, Dabi’s mouth falls open and the other man quickly flicks his tongue against Hawks’.

“Want it back on?” He murmurs against Dabi’s lips, licks at them again. Underneath him, Dabi groans and shifts, grinding against him as he wraps his legs loosely around Hawks’ waist.

What he wants doesn’t need to be said.

Hawks fucks into him slow as they continue to kiss and tease, indolent tongues and teeth tasting and biting at the other’s lips and jaws. Sliding inside of Dabi is like sliding into a hot bath; the heat is all-encompassing and travels up his core, up his spine, to every single hair and cell of his body, up to his heart and jars its rhythm. It’s quickly become one of Hawks’ vices, and one that has him in a death grip.

The instant the bullet comes back on, the pace grows feverish. Hawks feels a little lightheaded from the heat in the room; his forehead and back are damp with sweat and beneath him, Dabi’s body is covered in a glistening sheen of sweat, too. But the drag of his slicked cock moving in and out of Dabi’s ass, the low hum of the bullet vibrating between them, steadily growing louder as Hawks dials it back up, and Dabi groaning his name, voice breaking and his body arching against his own… it’s all maddening. He couldn’t stop even if he wanted to, he thinks.

He lets the feathers come undone and hauls Dabi up onto his lap, pulling him flush against him and crushing their lips together. Dabi barely puts up a struggle, even as Hawks roughly yanks his long legs and secures them around his waist. Being the taller of the two doesn’t mean much, they both realized early on. Dabi may have height, firepower, and an attitude problem, but not much else. Hawks is stronger, much more powerful, body rough-hewn from hero work, and he loves to remind Dabi of that fact every time they fuck.

Dabi leans in his ear. “Oi, your phone’s ringing.”

Hawks responds by sitting up on his knees and hoisting Dabi up higher, grip firm on his thighs and ass as he bounces him on his cock.

“Fuck it,” Hawks grunts as he thrusts hard up into Dabi, “It can wait.”

It keeps buzzing on Hawks’ nightstand, but it barely registers when Hawks dials the bullet back up to max.

*******

“I called you four times last night,” Miruko says loudly when he meets her for breakfast the next morning, their weekly tradition. “Where the hell were ya?”

“I turned in early last night,” Hawks lies smoothly. Too smoothly, he thinks with a grimace. It’s become second nature.

“You? Sleepin’ early ?” Miruko parrots as she stares at him, unconvinced, “You sick or somethin’?”

Hawks shakes his head, stifling a yawn. “Nah, I’ve just been going a little too hard lately, maybe.”

That’s a definite understatement, he thinks to himself. Too hard is right. His entire body is still sore from the ridiculous, straight-out-of-the Kama Sutra position they finished each other off in. His lips snag his bottom lip as the events of the night before play on a reel in his mind. God, that orgasm was more than worth the effort and the soreness. Dabi rides dick like no one else Hawks has ever had. It’s a little unfair. Hawks knows he’s good, but Dabi is like a divine being when he’s on top.

His cock twitches to life in his pants and Hawks flushes. This is really not the time to be thinking about this.

He tucks into food with forced vigor, eating quietly as Miruko recants the story of her latest criminal conquest, dropping in the odd “wow” and “you’re amazing, dude” at the appropriate times, but inside his head, he’s miles away, back up in his apartment with Dabi wrapped around him.

It’s been nearly three weeks since the last time they hooked up, hell, since the last time he saw or heard from Dabi period, and Hawks is irritated and, if he’s honest with himself, embarrassed, by how on edge he’s been since then. His leg is bouncing under his desk at a hundred miles an hour, and has been for most of the time he’s been sitting.

His sidekicks are giving their reports on pending cases and cleanups, but Hawks just can’t seem to focus on anything anyone is saying.

“Hawks, sir?”

“What?” He snaps. His sidekicks all jump back at his tone. Hawks is a tough boss to work for, but he’s never once yelled at his sidekicks. He sighs apologetically, leaning forward to rest his head in his hands.

“Sorry,” He mumbles. “I’m not feeling like myself tonight. I didn’t mean to take it out on you all. Sorry.”

One of his sidekicks hazards a step forward. “Uh, should we, um… should we give you the rest of the stats and stuff later?”

Hawks inhales deeply, lets it back out. “...Yeah,” He nods after a brief pause, “That would be better. Give me ten minutes.”

They all nod in affirmation before filtering out of his office one by one. Hawks pays no mind to the hushed chatter or concerned looks over their shoulders as they leave. When his office is empty, Hawks stands up from his desk with a tired groan, stretches his arms up until his back cracks as he crosses to the other side of the room, and flings himself face first down onto his couch.

“Fuck this,” He mutters into the couch cushion.

He lies there for a long time, unmoving, just breathing and thinking. Thinking about nothing in particular, about everything.

His phone buzzes loudly over on his desk just as he starts to drift off, and Hawks considers just letting it ring. But he’s gotten yelled at enough lately for missing important calls, and he’s over that. He pushes himself up off the couch, cursing softly to himself. It stops ringing the second he reaches his desk and picks it up.

(1) Missed Call from:

Crispy Bacon McMurder

Hawks snorts, his mood instantly lifting. Oh boy, if only Dabi could see his nickname in Hawks’ phone. He’d roast him alive.

Hawks hits redial, waits for a few seconds. Dabi finally answers on the third ring. Over time, Hawks has learned to differentiate regular, moody Dabi from genuine emotion Dabi. Dabi’s face isn’t nearly as expressive as his tone.

“Where are you?” Tonight, he sounds annoyed.

Nonetheless, Hawks cradles his phone in the crook of his neck as he leans against his desk, folding his arms across his chest. He hasn’t exactly been shooting rainbows out of his ass either, and he’s in no mood for Dabi’s bitchiness tonight. “Tch, hello to you, sunshine.”

Over the line, he hears Dabi suck his teeth.

“I’m working.”

“You on patrol?”

“No, I’m at the agency, finishing up some paperwork right now. Is this League business or you business?”

Silence on the other end.

Hawks waits, listening to Dabi’s quiet breathing on the other end. After a beat, Dabi sighs and chuckles, his low, smooth baritone enticing and disarming, no matter the tone in it. Hawks feels a smile pulling at his mouth. He shakes his head at himself.

Dare he say it, he actually kind of missed Dabi over these past few weeks.

“I guess it’s a little of both, ” He finally says, his tone taking on a lighter, more playful edge. Hawks wets his lips, smile growing a little more. He likes it when Dabi gets playful. He can’t even really explain why, beyond the obvious reason that he’s sure he’s going to get laid at some point in the near future. Right now, that’s enough for him to go on. He’s running on fumes.

“Wanna meet up somewhere?”

“Yeah.”

Just then, there’s a knock at the door.

“Okay. The usual place, ten minutes.” He mutters quickly into the phone and hangs up just as one of his sidekicks pokes his head back in. “Listen,” He interjects before the guy has a chance to even greet him, “I’m gonna head out really quick. I’ll be back in half an hour.”

“Oh, uh, but-”

“I’ll hear the rest of the stats later.” Hawks says impatiently as he shucks his coat on and adjusts the collar, along with his visor.

“Is this something you need help with? One of us can accompany you if you want, sir.” His sidekick calls out after him.

Hawks doesn’t even turn back. “Nah, this is something I need to do alone. Later.”

********

The warehouse is a bittersweet place for Hawks. Coming here always makes him uneasy, but it’s the most convenient place for both of them, equidistant from Hawks’ agency and from Dabi’s-- the League’s-- hideout, though the exact location is, as of yet, unknown to Hawks.

Dabi is already waiting for him when he gets there exactly ten minutes later on the dot, leaning against a large crate and halfway through what is probably his second or third cigarette. He blends into the darkness like a bad dream, the only hint that he’s there is his eyes shining and the orange tip of the cigarette as he inhales.

He looks so fucking good right now.

And frankly, Hawks had intended to talk League business first; he told himself over and over on the way that his mission must always take priority. It’s a talk he’s had with himself many times since meeting Dabi, and it’s gone out the window virtually every time once things got physical.

And tonight, he concedes, defeated, will be no different.

The second they lock eyes, Dabi smirks at him and he flicks his cigarette away, his eyes flashing with an intensity that pushes what little rational thought that is left out of Hawks’ mind as he closes the distance between them.

Coats and shirts begin to litter the floor within minutes of their heated collision, the both of them needy and eager. And pressed for time. Hawks can feel it in the way Dabi claws at him more desperately than usual, hands roving over every inch of skin he can get his hands on, greedily drinking in his moans as they kiss hard.

A few more minutes , Hawks thinks. He’ll allow himself a few more minutes and then it’s down to business.

But then Dabi moans something filthy in his ear and then starts to suck at his bottom lip. Fuck it. That’s also something Hawks finds himself saying and thinking often, nowadays. His sidekicks will just have to wait for him, for once.

He immediately shoves Dabi hard up against one of the man-sized crates, fumbling with both of their belts.

“We gotta do this quick,” He says between grunts and kisses.

“I know,” Dabi responds with equal fervor, already shoving his pants and boxers down.

“Give me the lube.”

Dabi pauses to look at him, eyebrows furrowed. “I don’t have any lube.”

Hawks freezes. “Shit, me neither.”

The two of them stand there for a beat, staring at each before finally, Dabi’s head falls back against the crate, a rueful smile on his face. “Well, fuck us.”

Hawks leans in and kisses him deep. Despite the time crunch, it’s slow and languid and deliciously warm. Fuck it. Seriously. He’s been so high-strung these past few weeks, he needs this. It doesn’t have to be full-on sex, he just wants to be close to Dabi for a bit. And clearly, Dabi is having similar thoughts.

The other man cups his face, angling his head to deepen the kiss. Between them, his hand creeps down and brushes over Hawks’ bare cock, stroking it.

“Mm,” Hawks moans low when he pulls away briefly. He mimics Dabi and takes his cock in his hand, stroking it in time with Dabi’s hand.

“I can get by with a handy,” Dabi says against his lips, “For now, anyway.”

Hawks chuckles. “Yeah.”

By the time their paces reach fever pitch, his phone is already buzzing in his back pocket, his sidekicks wondering where the hell their boss has run off to, no doubt. People really have the worst timing, Hawks thinks. But their passionate fervor makes quick work of the both of them. Dabi groans into his neck just as it stops, coming in a few quick spurts into his hand, Hawks’ name falling way too softly from his lips. Hawks had finished only seconds before, and is still coming down from his own orgasm as he brings Dabi to his.

The two of them take a brief moment of respite, kissing and touching, basking in the altogether much too brief afterglow their respective obligations allow them.

“So,” Hawks begins after some time, pulling away to make himself decent, “What did you want to tell me?”

Dabi is already dressed again and lighting up another cigarette, back to his usual aloof self. The only evidence of what just transpired between them is the faint flush of his face and his ears, and his still somewhat heavy breathing.

God, if only they had the time. The things he would do to Dabi all over this dirty warehouse.

“I have some exciting news,” Dabi says, exhaling smoke in a thin tendril, “Boss wants to meet you.”

Hawks pauses. “Really?”

“Yeah, Hawks. Really.”

“When?”

Dabi shrugs. “Dunno yet. He just happened to mention it the other day, and asked me to pass the message along. But relatively soon, I figure.”

Dabi pauses to take a long drag. “He’s got some plans in the works, currently,” He says before exhaling the thick plume all in one shot, “and he’s gonna need someone on the inside. He’s ready to give you a chance to prove yourself and your loyalty to our cause.”

Hawks remains silent, contemplating Dabi’s words --and the thinly veiled threat in his tone.

“What do you think?”

Dabi takes one last puff before flicking his cigarette butt away. “What do I think of what?”

“Do you think I’ve proven myself?”

Dabi doesn’t respond right away, instead taking the time that they don’t have to calmly finish his cigarette. Hawks quickly gets the sense that Dabi is purposely letting him dangle, relishing the suspense. There’s always time to see someone squirm, as far as Dabi is concerned.

He only gives in after Hawks make an impatient noise and shrugs his coat on with more force than necessary. “I told him that we can trust you.” Dabi says quietly, pushing himself up off the crate and once again closing the distance between them, this time with none of the urgency from before.

Dabi cups his neck, thumb over Hawks’ jaw tenderly. Or at least, there is an illusion of tenderness. Dabi’s eyes have taken on that cold, hard edge that sinks like a stone in Hawks’ stomach.

“I can trust you, right?”

He’s gotten way too good at lying lately.

“...Yes, Dabi. You have my loyalty. I swear.”

Dabi presses his forehead against Hawks'. It's much too affectionate, Hawks thinks, starting to feel anxious. Certainly much too out of character for Dabi. Hawks swallows hard, hoping Dabi can't feel how tense he is. He can handle bitchy. He can handle needy and horny. Hell, he can handle rage and he could handle it if Dabi had his hand on his throat to choke the life out of him. But this is the one version of Dabi he hasn't trained himself to handle yet: vulnerable. And because of that, this is the most dangerous version.

Because nothing is ever off the table with Dabi, especially when his guard is down. He knows how fickle Dabi can be, after all.

The other man closes his eyes, sighing as he brushes their noses together. His warm hand is still firm on Hawks' neck, easing the tension in Hawks' neck and shoulders.

Again, Hawks positively hates how Dabi can be both the source of his stress and the source of his relief from that stress.

"Good, because I want you with us when we make our move," Dabi says quietly. His grip tightens slightly, massaging into Hawks' skin.

"Don't ever betray me, little bird."

And with that, he pulls away completely and departs without another word, leaving Hawks vulnerable to the sudden and intense chill that passes through the empty warehouse; though, Hawks can't quite say how much of it is simply the night breeze and how much is his nerves fraying at the ends.

He takes flight not long after Dabi leaves, the other man's words still echoing in his head as he lands on the roof of his agency, where a few of his lead sidekicks are already waiting for him.

Don't ever betray me, little bird.

I won't. Hawks had wanted to say out loud. But in the end, it's best if he keeps those words to himself, because he's not sure he doesn't mean them anymore.

#NSFWDabihawksGiftExchange #dabihawks #spicywings #how-to-train-your-kirishima #fanfiction meme #bnha fanfiction

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a-girl-named-angel · 5 years ago

Text

A New Witch (Closed starter)

@immortal-bloodied-roses

Dawn had nearly approached, the town was slowly coming to life but quicker than usual for a small celebration was soon to commence. That to celebrate the soon departing solders who would soon leave for some war. The sound of music, chatter, and other such noises traveled far from the town and towards a beautiful open that held a large old willow tree. Providing shade for the small pond nearby.

The tree and pond held a sanctuary for many passing critters looking for shade and a drink, but one in particular stood out. Higher up in the branches was a fox like creature. However, this fox stood out from other foxes for it had a pair of large feathered wings on its back, similar in color to its fur. But aside from that, she looked like any other red fox.

As the sound of the festivities hit its peak the creature had jolted up from its peaceful slumber in a slight panic. Upon realizing that it was just a celebration then rather a conflict, it let out a small annoyed groan. With a soft yawn, the creature stretched its body and wings before climbing to the top of the tree. Looking over to the town. It’s ears perked high up to make sure that the noise being caused was from that location. With a sigh, the creature climbed down to its resting branch before muttering. “Might as well see what the noise is about.”

With one graceful leap, the creature spread it wings and took to the sky. Doing a few aerial tricks to stretch her body out as she soared towards the town. Overlooking a few of the people before looking for a landing spot.

Upon landing on a high rooftop, the fox creature looked at the spectacle of an event take place. Solders drinking, couples dancing, large parties of people dining, and parades passing by showing off the latest equipment of warfare and of course more soldiers. It was enough to make the creature give out a short chuckle.

‘It’s sickening’ the creature thought to herself ‘this entire festival, devoted to young men who will die for a cause they were never aware of’ she then noticed the couples dancing closer by. Most of the men were of course soldiers, dancing with women that dressed far too much. The look on their faces made her smirk lightly. ‘It’s almost saddening. Seeing this sort of romance happen between to absolute strangers. So blinded to reality, he’ll never come back, or she’ll forget his entire existence. This so called love is just a pitiful excuse of infatuation’. Though as she spoke these words, the fox couldn’t help but feel a peek of envy from the back of her mind... she shook it off with a light twitch of her ears. Her eyes wondered off in hopes to find another topics only then to find some food stands nearby, selling goods to passersby’s. The creature sat up. ‘Since it’s a going away party, might as well see if I can get a good meal for a cheep price.”’

Shutting her eyes and concentrating, the winged fox transformed to a young lady with long auburn hair, her sapphire blue eyes still the same color as before. Wearing a simple dress sky blue dress, while it wasn’t as grand as what the ladies of today were wearing, her looks alone could catch the eye of any gentleman and they have in the past. Leaping to the ground of an alleyway, the woman landed fairly gently, as off she were a feather. The one of many perks of being taught in the art of magic.

Soon arriving to a food stand, the lady looked to see how much she had. It wasn’t much, but she had a interesting trick coming to her mind. “Good morning ma’m” the seller said with a smile. She smiled back. “Morning, listen I’m only here for a short while, I’m traveling to see a sick relative. I’ll just take a small loaf of bread and some cheese if you don’t mind?” As the man set a bag up with her order, he gave her the price. This was her chance.

Patting her pockets, she pulled out a few coins though now enough to pay for the items she wanted. “I don’t have much, but will this and a tick suffice?” She asked. With a chuckle, the man nodded, waiting to see what lame trick would be pulled in a weak attempt to get a cheap meal. The lady gave a light smile before she began to fiddle with the coins in her hand, flipping up and down the back of her fingers before flipping them, the coins disappeared in thin air. The seller blinked in surprise before looking back at her for an explication. The young lady pointed to his apron pocket and upon searching it, he found the same coins that she had been fiddling before. The man stood in complete awe while those waiting in line or nearby applauded. The lady smiled and gave a small curtsy before taking her bag and walking off.

As she made her way to a quieter location, the young lady sighed. She hatted loud places, as well as the pushy people she passed by. Most were women who were clearly jealous of her looks and began to gossip about the stranger in hopes to give her a bad rep. Others were of course young men who were trying to get one another to try and talk to her. Solider or not. To them she just quite literally zipped their lips with a single stroke of her hand. They go back to normal of corse in a moment or two.

Finally, she had found the perfect quiet location she was looking for. Sitting down on an old chair, the young lady then began to eat as neatly as she could. Not helping but feeling that she was not alone. Putting her food back into her bag, Angel got up and began to walk. Listening closely to her surroundings for any shady figures. Ready to defend herself or flee if needed.

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ktaebwi · 7 years ago

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Dispatch ‘Dicon’ Magazine - BTS Issue (Full Translation)

Download PDF: MF

“People around me are very proud of me. They tell me “BTS indeed”, “You’re BTS” a lot. All of these are thanks to ARMYs.” (V)

“I want to be someone’s pillar of support*, I want to be your eternal singer. So I can’t lose you guys. If you go further away, I’ll pull you closer. I don’t know how to do it or if it works or not, but I’ll strive to not let go of you. Again, thank you and I love you.” (Jungkook)

(*literally “big person”, “great man”)

“When I look at ARMYs supporting me from backstage, when I look at us performing on stage, when you’re happy listening to me singing, I feel the biggest happiness.” (Jimin)

“Let’s not get weary and go together for a long time. Because we won’t even after 10 or 20 years.” (Suga)

“I’ll prove it again and again. Trust and follow me.” (Suga)

“If our music can be even a little source of help in your life, your dream, then our existence is worth it. In the future, there’ll surely be pain and trials, but I know well that there are many people who believe in us and like us. So we won’t be hurt when it pains us, we won’t be sad when it upsets us, we won’t fear when it scares us. This is how BTS will be.” (RM)

“Bloom like a rose, flutter like a cherry blossom, fall like a morning glory.” (J-hope)

“Only you need to know how hard you work.” (Jin)

“I’m your fans too. A fan who silently supports the loneliness, the battles and the life you’re going through. I send you my letters written with music and notes from behind the stage and at my studio. Hope you’ll read that sound that is me missing you.” (RM)

BTS, road to the sea

“Someone says my spoon is dirty” <MIC Drop>

They weren’t dirt spoons at first. Dirt, scattered by prejudice, covered them.

(*In the spoon class theory, dirt spoon is considered the lowest class in the society)

The rapper title is a luxury to you guys <We Are Bulletproof Pt.2> You have no power, I know you must have done something shady <Two! Three!> Small company’s idols with nothing special was my second name <Sea>

Suga said, “I didn’t want to get hurt, because it means losing to prejudice. I didn’t want to be upset.” The dirt spoons’ voices were heard. Mockery started. They didn’t throw it away, they buried it deep. They then met ignorance. They didn’t spit it out, they engulfed it. Ridicule poured down. They stood up against it with blood, sweat and tears. They are BTS.

LA November 2017, AMAs. The Chainsmokers introduced the 16th performance. The second-to-last performance, right before the ending.

“We are going to announce next performer. They are international superstar. Here’s BTS, which is having huge fan over here.”

Mnet M COUNTDOWN, June 13th 2013. BTS appeared. Their debut single was ‘No More Dream’, but they could no longer dream. Reality was reality. The company’s head, Bang Shihyuk, was met with doubts. “Isn’t he a ballad composer?” The name BTS was ridiculed. “They’re going to become cannon fodders.” The company, Bighit, was taken pity on. “They will never make it with a company this small.” And their genre, hip hop, was the subject of mockery. “Idols doing hip hop? What kind of nonsense is that?” In fact, it was bitterness from the start. “I thought the sea was here but it turned out to be a desert”. The first desert they faced was the trainee days. Dicon’s first question, too, is about their trainee days.

(Dicon) Seven members came together. No, seven dreams came together.

RM: I wanted to tell people my stories, with my voice, in front of many people. This was the start of my dream.

SUGA: Billboard, AMA... None of them was on my wishlist. It was too far away. It was a goal impossible to achieve. At that time, everything I ever dreamed of was for many people to listen to my music.

JUNGKOOK: Nothing was certain. Those days were so vague. I didn’t even know how to dream. The future? I only looked forward and ran.

V: Just becoming a trainee made me so happy already. Learning was fun. I could even dance every day. I spent my days working hard. At that time, the present was more important to me than an unseen future.

JIN: My dream was to hold a concert. I wanted to become one with our fans through our songs.

JIMIN: Meeting senior singers felt amazing to me. I wanted to become like them. They were so awesome.

J-HOPE: My goals were always clear. To stand on stage, to become the best, but first, it was to survive. Trainee days were a continuous survival game. If one comes in, another drops out. I had to endure in between. But...

But the ideal was the sky and reality was the ground. It wasn’t easy, like what their song said.

I thought the sea was here but it turned out to be a desert Small company’s idols with nothing special was my second name Countless of times edited out from broadcasts Being someone’s fill-in was our dream Some people said our company was small so we wouldn’t make it <Sea>

J-HOPE: It wasn’t easy having to part ways with my fellow trainee friends. They were like my family. That reality pained me so much.

RM: There were times I felt unsure about my future. Like my life is not +, nor it is 0, it’s just −... The thought that ‘oh, we’re still preparing only’ tired me out.

JIMIN: When I saw a wall showing up in front of my eyes, it felt like no matter how much I do I still couldn’t work it out? The wall of reality was higher than I thought. But still, I had no thought of giving up.

JIN: I started learning the choreography properly in preparation for the debut. I felt distressed because it didn’t turn out the way I wanted. I kept getting scolded too.

JUNGKOOK: At that time we went through an enormous amount of practice, to the point that it was hard to handle it. But after we debuted, I felt like, like I’m a frog in the well*? I blamed myself that I was lacking too much.

V: For me, dancing was fun. No matter how hard practicing was , it’s something I like so I could endure. If anything, it was having to live away from my parents that was hard for me. I’ve been living away from them for a long time so I miss them.

SUGA: The cheapest meal they have near the company costed 6,000 won ($5.59). A 300,000 won allowance was nowhere near enough to live for a month. I took up a delivery part-time job alongside MIDI lessons. I had a car accident then. My shoulders were badly injured. I thought of giving up but... The members stopped me from leaving. The company also waited for me.

Suga also express his agony at the time through rapping.

The root of my creations has tasted the world’s sweetness and bitterness Those days trying to sleep on the bathroom floor now become memories Grabbing my shoulders crushed in a car accident during a delivery part-time job and debuted In front of whom are you all pretending you have had it hard <The Last>

They had each other. They are each other’s strength. Thus, You Never Walk Alone. Seven members walked together, encouraging each other.

RM: I remember I once said ‘Shouldn’t we at least perform at Olympic Gymnastics Stadium once before we die?”.

JIN: Namjoon’s always like that. He holds each of us and shouts out fighting. It motivates us a lot. I like laughing together with our members. It’s the reason why I could endure.

J-HOPE: The seven of us were chosen. Since then, we only looked forward and ran. We trusted and relied on each other. We shed blood and sweat together. We decided to try no matter what result comes and motivated each other.

JIMIN: The members told me. ‘I really hope you would go together with us.’ That’s the power of the words. I was able to work even harder. I already had a goal in my mind that is to go together until the end, so I didn’t give up.

V: It was hard, of course. It was inevitable. But I wasn’t the only one who had it hard. None of us didn’t have it hard. That’s why I gained strength even more. We gained strength from looking at each other.

SUGA: That’s true. The members were the reason I could make it through those days. They are the best stimulant. When the members practiced, I composed songs. It was also when I wrote the beats for ‘Tomorrow’ and ‘Agust D’ (mixtape).

JUNGKOOK: It was the day of the showcase. After coming down from stage, i felt emotional. I wasn’t the only one who felt so. We hugged each other and cried. I remember that day.

These wings sprouted from pain but they head towards the light Even if it’s hard and painful, if I can fly, I will Will you hold my hands so that I will no longer be afraid Because if you and I are together, we can smile <A Supplementary Story: You Never Walk Alone>

June 12th 2013, they stood on stage for the first time as BTS. It was the birth of BTS. On the stage they desired so much, they rapped and ranced. They could endure even the wounds.

When I rap and dance on the stage that I desired so much, I feel that I’m still alive It was worth enduring the tiring and exhausting commute Because my people are watching me It was worth enduring even when my body hurts Because the cheers are surging in <Born Singer>

RM: I couldn’t think of anything. My thoughts were full of ‘I have to do well’, ‘I have to pull this off’, ‘I have to end this’, things that we planned. Our first stage ended like that. From the name, hairstyle, even the sunglasses, everything was a standing joke. Hurt? Maybe it’s because I tried to forget it, I don’t really remember it well now.

SUGA: When the response rushed in ‘Where did those kids come from?’, I was totally excited. I wasn’t really hurt by criticism. I heard a lot of it from before debut so...

J-HOPE: I only have good memories of the debut stage too. I got to stand on the stand I wished for so much. I still can’t forget that thrill. The cheers of people who didn’t know us still show up vividly in my mind. The problem was the next day. I guess I was too excited. I made a lot of mistakes during ‘Music Bank’ rehearsal. I remember being scolded a lot...

JIMIN: I didn’t have time to think about people’s stares and reactions. I thought if I work a little bit harder, I would get a little bit better. I practiced while monitoring.

JIN: I continued to observe even during other senior singers’ stages. And one more thing is, I envied of the support from (their) fans.

V: I don’t remember much the hurt I got back then. I already forgot everything. More than anything else, I was fascinated by the fact that I appeared on TV. I remember calling my grandmother and parents to ask if they had seen the music program.

JUNGKOOK: There was a lot of hate comments. But I have to admit, because I was lacking a lot then. If anything, I clenched my teeth and practiced even more days and nights. I would come to the practice room whenever I can.

What could be their next goal? They said it was “to survive”. In reality, they had to survive.

JIN: There was a lot of groups debuting around the same time as us. We couldn’t ease ourselves yet just because we made it to the stage. There were many times we didn’t get to perform the whole song too. Every time it happened, we felt really upset. We practiced even more desperately. We thought as long as we have the talent, we wouldn’t be pushed out.

SUGA: Competition at music programs was really fierce. We wanted to keep making music, so we wanted to stand on stage.

J-HOPE: I think it’s the same for every trainee. We were really desperate. Everyday, we thought that we had to survive on this stage.

RM: We had to show ourselves in a short time. We had to draw people’s attention. We were also well aware of the fact that there’s no next time. We had no choice but to prove ourselves.

JIMIN: It felt like tapping at the ground to go up? I couldn’t see anything in front me of. It wasn’t something possible with passion only. But still, the only thing I could do was to push myself endlessly. Like ‘this is no big deal’...

V: I met and part ways with many friends in my trainee days. I had to survive from there.

JUNGKOOK: I don’t know what kind of confidence I had. ‘I will become something’, ‘We will become something.’ I was certain.

If you can’t fly, run Today we will survive If you can’t run, walk Today we will survive If you can’t walk, crawl Even if you crawl, gear up <Not Today>

Their practice room stank of sweat. Their performances were excellent. Their rap was resonant. That’s how they stood out.

JIN: We were different from the start. It’s not our strategy to stand out, we only wanted to do music. More than anything,I trusted our members and followed our company. I wasn’t afraid.

SUGA: Yes, we weren’t afraid, but people were afraid of us.

RM: I have been rapping ever since and I love music, so I believed I could deliver it better than anyone else. Looking back now, there are many times I did not but...

J-HOPE: We didn’t compare ourselves to other groups. We did our own things. It can be shocking (to other people), but I hoped that shock left as strong ‘impression’ to them.

JIMIN: We wanted to talk about the concerns teenagers had, because they were also ours. Hip hop was the best kind of music to showcase our thoughts.

V: I believed our strength is that we’re different from others.

JUNGKOOK: At that time, my top goal was the team. I couldn’t cause trouble to them. My ultimate task was to do good at my role.

Damn hip hop pride, idol rapper? Cut that bullshit They say my nature’s still that idol shit anyway and ignore me Give their principles to the dog and mock my name You all who only know to cloud the issue and ignore How you kill me? <BTS Cypher Pt.1>

BTS fought, with themselves. Like what V has said. “It’s important that we do well. I was certain that that way, we would be recognized.” In the end, the boys were right. Prejudice went away. Of course, it. was. no. coincidence. There was a reason.

RM: It didn’t change right away. It changed little by little. I think it’s from after ‘I NEED U’.

JIN: ‘MIC Drop’. A stage that many people said to be cool.

SUGA: ‘DNA’ stage at AMAs. It changed misunderstanding to understanding.

J-HOPE: There’s a song called ‘Born Singer’. It shows ourselves and our thoughts.

JIMIN: I recommend ‘Save ME’.

V: ‘MIC Drop’.

JUNGKOOK: ‘I NEED U’, ‘Dope’.

'Dicon' picked Jungkook's solo song 'Begin'. The background of this song itself is sincerity. Producer Bang Shihyuk asked them if they had any stress. Jungkook said, "I don't. I went (to Seoul) not knowing anything when I was only 15. It's what I really wanted to do so..." And he continued. "My only stress is that the hyungs I'm living with have to go through a hard time. I don't know about everything else. It pains me the most seeing them stressed. I hope they won't have to go through a hard time." He cried. Bang Shihyuk PD cried. J-hope cried. RM cried. Jin cried. Suga cried. V, Jimin too cried. And Jungkook sobbed.

That's how 'Begin' was born. Only, it wasn't just the beginning of Jungkook. Below are answers from the older members.

RM: I can never forget how Jungkook cried and said 'My stress is that the hyungs are stressed'. Jungkook doesn't usually express his emotions so it hit me even more.

JIN: It reminds me of how Jungkook cried in front of Bang Shihyuk PD. I felt sorry but also proud of him, and he also looked cute.

SUGA: We were stressed of course. Exhausted even. So every time I listen to 'Begin', I feel odd. But if I watch Jungkook's solo performance, I only have one though that he's cool.

J-HOPE: I'm proud of Jungkook. He tells his own story through his dance and song. It's a song that shows Jungkook's energy greatly.

V: I still remember what Jungkook said while crying. That story is reflected fully in the song.

JIMIN: We gain strength even more thanks to Jungkook. It's the 'Begin' of all of us.

When I was fifteen, I had nothing The world was too big and I was too small Now I can't even imagine How I used to have no scent and empty I pray Love you my brother Thanks to my brothers, I had feelings and became me <Begin>

The dark night passed and the morning shone bright. What could be their motivation? One certain thing is, it's time to raise thumbs up.

RM: Faith. I always try to show that my faith wasn't wrong. Maybe that's why I always attempt something, because I want to prove (my faith).

SUGA: Pride. Our fans like our music and wait for our stage. I wanted to give them pride.

JIMIN: I had a goal that I want to achieve. By my side, there are the members and the fans that are always together with me.

JIN: The reason we could endure through it is thanks to our fans. They gave us love so I couldn't disappoint them.

J-HOPE: That's correct. Our fans are our biggest motivation. When I look at fans who love our music, I feel that I'm still alive. Thanks to them, we could become who we are now.

V: Thus, 'ARMY'.

JUNGKOOK: I wanted to bring them good performances and music.

In the end, every story concludes with ARMY*. It's always like that. Every conversation with them ends with ARMY. Of course, the ending of 'Dicon' should be ARMY too, shouldn't it? "If we are together, even the desert becomes the sea" was especially heartfelt.

(*literally "gi seung jeon ARMY". "gi seung jeon gyeol" (起承轉結) is a kind of writing structure, with 起 representing "the introduction", 承 "the development", 轉 "the twist", 結 "the conclusion". "Gi seung jeon ARMY" is a word play based on "gi seung jeon gyeol", meaning it ends with ARMY.)

RM: 'Can the desert become the sea?' is my endless self-doubt and self-examination that I have been holding since predebut. It was the biggest answer to that question. I couldn't help tearing up knowing their love for me.

JIN: I wonder when they prepared it to move us this deeply. I was so thankful. My tears couldn't stop.

SUGA: Lately, I'm more easily moved to tears. Perhaps it's a sense of security, or fear, or happiness, or sorrow. These complex emotions just flood in.

J-HOPE: The fans' events never fail to give me chills. I know their devotion and sincerity, so when that energy's conveyed (through the events), the synergy explodes. They moved me greatly. I'm always thankful to them and love them.

JIMIN: If I could express how I felt then in words... I would be able to write a few books. That moment made me realize 'that's right, our fans are always by our side'. I'm so happy that I keep tearing up.

V: When I read the messages the fans send, I think of the hardships I went through. Sometimes it also makes me sad, the thought that we're finally seeing the light.

JUNGKOOK: I could feel everything on that stage. ARMY's breath, voices, ARMY's cheers, tears. I'm moved greatly every time I see the fans. I made a great decision becoming BTS...

So, letters to ARMY?

RM: I'm learning about the meaning of 'us'. It's like there's no longer 'us', just the many moments of 'you' and 'me'. I want to learn about the true meaning of 'us', where we are truly together, with ARMYs. I hope each and every one of our members can mean 'us' in that sense to ARMYs. We may be living somewhere in the world, doing different things. But we are breathing together through music and performances. I want to comfort them through all the loneliness and solitude that humans can't help but embrace, and live in this world together. That's what I want to do.

JIN: Thanks to ARMY, my time at where they said to be the desert felt like I was at the sea. Thank you for making me happy. I love you.

SUGA: It feels like I’m flying so high. I see so much and so far away. I thought I would only feel happy above the clouds, but sometimes when I look down, I feel scared. I take courage from the fact that we’re flying together. I’m afraid of falling, but I’m not afraid of landing. Thank you for being with us. I’m forever grateful and love you.

J-HOPE: Thank you for always supporting and loving us. I’m happy to become your hope.

JIMIN: ARMYs. I believe you know how I feel when I look at you. I can take a step forward thanks to having you beside. I’ll work hard to show you more and give you bigger love. I love you.

V: I hope you won’t get hurt and your every day will be filled with happiness only. I really love you.

JUNGKOOK: I’ll always be here. ARMY can come to see us whenever you miss us. And you can leave whenever you have to leave, or whenever you want to. But please remember this one thing only. I’ll always be here.

Thank you, for letting me be me For letting me fly For giving me wings For folding up the me that's once wrinkled For breaking the me that once felt suffocated For waking the me that once lived in only dreams When I think of you, my sky clears up So I throw away all my sorrow Thank you, for becoming 'us' <Save ME>

To 'Dispatch', it's not the end until it wraps up. The same for 'Dicon'. This page hasn't end yet. There's no room for doubt when it comes to BTS. Like The Chainsmokers said, they're ISu. International Superstars. Should you be jealous of their success? No, failure brings experience. These spells by BTS are their encouragement dedicated to all challengers in the world.

RM: Sometimes we have to erase many things so we can fill them up again. I always chant 'do it' to myself. 'Believe in myself and just do it'. Not 'do well', but 'just do it'. It'll turn out well after.

J-HOPE: Believe in yourself and move forward. It's the first step to success.

JIN: I always chant 'I am the best' to myself. I believe in myself and support myself by thinking 'It's okay, I can do well'. You'll do well like magic.

SUGA: The world has never let us dream, nor has it ever taught us how to dream. They say it's your fault, but it's not. Don't blame yourself. It's okay to lean back when you're tired. If someone's tired, become their pillar of support. This is the reason why I started making music. I hope our music can become your little source of strength.

JIMIN: If you have a goal you really need to achieve, don't look back. Don't hesitate, give it a go first. If you have a path you want to follow, follow it. That way you won't regret.

V: You may fail, you may fall, you may despair. It's natural. Just don't give up no matter how much you fail, fall, despair. If the thought of wanting to give up crosses your mind, I hope you'd overcome it and stand up again. Even if you can't trust yourself, do it for the people that put their faith on you.

JUNGKOOK: Don't regret things in the past. First, look at the reality and think about what you can do. Arrange what you need to do in order and resolve one by one. At some point, you'll get what you wish for. We'll support you too. Don't feel tired.

Everybody say NO! There's no later Don't be trapped in someone else's dream We roll (we roll) We roll (we roll) We roll Everybody say NO! It's now or never You haven't tried anything yet <N.O>

Tomorrow, keep walking We are too young to stop Tomorrow, open the door Too many things in front of our eyes to close it Follow your dreams like breaker Even if it breaks down, oh better Follow your dreams like breaker Even if it falls apart, oh Don't turn back, never <Tomorrow>

“We stood up again. Before we knew it, we were already running. Awaiting us on that road was the dream of seven boys.”

“When ‘Begin’ was made, Jungkook told us in tears. ‘When I was a kid, I wanted to sing and dance. Seeing hyungs go through a hard time is the hardest for me.’ Hearing him say that, we all cried.” (2016)

“We weren’t tired because there were seven of us. No one stopped. Then came the debut day. Criticism flooded in before the cheers ended. It felt like dreams, passion, hard work were all powerless.”

Episode #1 “Being able to hold a concert itself is happiness.”

Who could ever guess what spectacular events were awaiting. Just one year ago, it was simple. Rap Monster shared, “Finally, we get to hold a concert at Gocheok dome. We will show you the best performance we can bring.” BTS was excited, and so was Jimin. Excited at the mere thought of standing on stage. “Being able to hold a concert itself is happiness. I’m practice to show you better performances.” Jungkook showed expectation. “I’m even more excited about this concert. We’re more relaxed compared to past tours. I think we’ll get to interact with fans through this stage. Suga was focused. “There’s a lot to pay attention to in the concert. We have to match to the smallest details. My goal is to wrap up without making any mistake.” No one could expect what grand events were waiting for them one year ago, even a year ago. They were just doing their best to complete the current tasks. And three months later, they flew to Las Vegas, where Billboard award ceremony was held.

Episode #2 "ARMY sent us here."

Billboard Music Awards. 'Top Social Artist' nominee. Their rival is pop star Justin Bieber. "They're going up against Bieber? Anyone can see Bieber would win for sure!" After all, Bieber took home trophies for this category the last 6 years.

Finally, Billboard award ceremony. "They're going up against Bieber? What about Bieber's fans?" Numerous fans surrounding the Magenta Carpet. They were shouting BTS' name. Blasted there was the song 'Fire' It was foretelling that they would win.

BTS was well aware, that the Billboard red carpet is the flower path fans laid for them. RM said, "I only think of fans of course. ARMYs made this 'Top Social Artist' award (possible) for us." Jin added in, "Yes, that's right. ARMY sent us here. We'll work harder. We'll continue to do our best in the future. Thank you." "I don't even know what surprise awaits anymore now. We made it here thanks to the support from ARMY. I wonder what is waiting for us ahead..." Yes. Like Jimin said, Billboard was the start for these international superstars.

Episode #3 “Actually, we are really nervous.”

May 21st 2017, V had a stomach ache. Finally, it was the day of BBMas. They were the first idol group to be nominated for ‘Top Social Artist’ category. At MGM Hotel in Las Vegas, Nevada, V was nowhere to be seen. He showed up a little bit later. “Sorry, I had a stomach ache so I was late.” V’s image was (somewhat) chic and cool, so it was unfamiliar seeing him shy. But it was heartwarming. We asked if he was nervous. The members all said in chorus. “Actually, we are really nervous. We just pretend to be relaxed. We’re so nervous.” 2017 Billboard Music Awards red carpet, Jungkook was clutching his handkerchief tightly.

“(After debut) What we faced was indifference, cold shoulder, ridicule. Dreams couldn’t exist in the night of the desert. The road ended. We sat down, but we didn’t give up.”

Episode #4 "Hello."

If you ask about BTS' DNA (habits), we will unhesitatingly pick 'greetings'. Formula of greetings, commandment of greetings, providence of greetings, evidence of greetings...

First, 'formula' of greetings. J-hope asks "Have you eaten yet?". A totally untrendy (?) greeting. That's why it's even more affectionate. He takes care of even the youngest staff's meals.

'Commandment' of greetings. Take a look at V. On the last shooting day for DNA jacket photo, V left early due to another schedule. He asked the manager to greet for him through Kakaotalk. "I had to leave without getting to greet you. Thank you for your hard work." (From V)

Jimin knows the 'providence' of greetings. "Our fans really like the photos (Dispatch) took." So Dispatch worked harder to take better photos. Doesn't matter if it was a white lie or not.

RM showed his concern instead of greeting. "The waiting time's getting longer. You must be feeling bored right?" Jin showed up with his game console. "Can I sit here and play games for a bit?" He added. "Shall I explain this game to you?"

Suga composes music at night. His days and nights are reversed. Sometimes, he would off and suddenly wakes up. "There was a heavy traffic jam right?" He wasn't sleep talking. It's the evidence of greetings. Jungkook adds, "It must be tough for you having to come all the way here."

“We must cross the desert to reach the sea. We walk again to find another desert. We move forward, together.”

Episode #5 “LOVE YOURSELF 承 Her”

What BTS has to surpass, is BTS. So did they outdo themselves? September 2017, a month of continuous tough schedule. More than a week of time was spent to shoot the jacket photo and music video. They put their heart into every shot. On the last day, they attempted to film an one-take shot. It would show a continuous opening starting from V to J-hope, RM. Just one misstep, one second of losing focus and it would be an NG. The movements needed to go smoothly. Again, it was the last day of shooting. They couldn’t help but feel tired. But BTS laughed, thanks to the oldest and youngest member. The older, Jin, and the younger, Jungkook, chatted and teased each other, even showing slapstick gags. Laughters rang through the tiring day. ‘LOVE YOURSELF 承 Her’. BTS made it. They set records.

Episode #6 "We had the photo of our life at LA airport."

That photo was nowhere near a life shot. It was bare taken, out-focused due to being pushed by foreign fans. But J-hope and V gave thumbs up and added it was "the best photo". We were embarrassed. Calling a lucky shot 'the best photo', it was probably their way of thanking for covering their news at LA. We know that this is their kindness. BTS' kindness. It was their heartfelt words that made us drop our weapons, take off and throw away our 'bulletproof vests'.

Episode #7 “You will watch our performance right?”

“You will watch our performance right?”... What confidence they had. An AMAs performance on top of that. We asked their order. “When is your turn?” “We don’t know too.” They replied cheerfully as if it was of no importance. AMAs director wanted BTS to have a collaboration stage. Like the one Psy had with MC Hammer, they wanted BTS to perform with famous stars. But BTS politely declined. “The seven of us are the coolest on stage.” This is BTS’ pride. They have been together for seven years. They shed blood, sweat, tears, and the fruit they bore was the AMAs stage. The DNA that is matching steps just by looking into the eyes. America went wild. They were blown away by their synchronized choreography, charmed by their live singing. This was the start of international superstars.

T/N: - The quotes are from various sources: concert ending ments, album thanks to, Twitter posts,... not from this interview itself. - Episode #8 is about records BTS set with ‘LOVE YOURSELF 承 Her’, so I didn’t translate it.

#bts #bangtan #bts x dicon #translation #trans:interview

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