#i still remember the name of their ringleader

[celestialgalaxyglow]

Batfam and Danny, Part 26

At Jason's office at his Gang's Headquarters.

Danny: Nice office.

Jason: Thank you. Now before my governors arrive remember, the Red Hood that they work with is not the Red Hood that works with the Bats. The Red Hood that works with the bats is a wannabe and only wears a simple domino mask, while I am the original Red Hood who wears a helmet that covers my whole head.

Danny (trying not to laugh): And the two Red Hoods have major beef with each other.

Jason (smiling): Yes it's a little dumb, but I can't go around as both a vigilante and a crime lord, I need to keep both of those identities separate.

Danny: But why the same name? You already have two entirely different suits for both Red Hood identities.

Jason: I thought it'd be funny.

Danny: I guess.

Jason: And you're not Phantom, you're my new righthand man, Phantasm, a extraterrestrial child who I adopted.

Danny: I am born of the stars themselves, I have not flesh but am made of stardust, look into my eyes for they hold the universe itself.

Jason (proud dad): Making your skin look like the night sky was a nice touch to hide your identity both as Danny and Phantom, but did you really have to make your face devoid of features except two green voids for eyes? It's a little creepy.

Danny smiled, revealing razor sharp teeth in front of a green void. Jason leaned back, a little scared of his son's flair for the dramatic.

Jason: Case and point... the suit is nice though, I like the sci-fi look.

Danny: Thanks dad.

There's a nock at the door.

Jason (sat up): You may enter.

The doors opened and four goons walked in.

The Goons (happy): Good morning boss!

The four goons walked towards Jason's desk and stood in front of it. Only then did they notice the strange alien child. They looked at Danny, then at Jason, then back at Danny, then finally back at Jason.

Jason: Good morning everyone, I would like you to meet my new righthand man, Phantasm, he is an alien child that I have adopted.

Goon #1: You're a dad?

Jason: Yes.

Goon #2: We have a nephew!

Goon #3: I'm an aunt!

Danny: What...?

Jason (embarrassed): We're all family here, if you wear my bandana you're my family, speaking of here you go.

Jason handed Danny a red bandana with the silhouette of Jason's hood embroidered in the middle with white silk.

Danny: It looks like you.

Jason: That's the idea, that way people know that if you mess with this person, you're messing with the Red Hood's family.

Danny (wrapping the bandana around his neck): It's cute.

Goon #4: It was your dad's idea.

Goon #3: We love it, we may be criminals, but we do crime with style.

Goon #2: By the way welcome to the family, little boss.

Goon #1: "Little boss," that's so cute, can we call you that?

Danny: Sure thing!

Jason (clearing his throat): As sweet as this is, we're here to talk about past month's reports. Sarah, do you mind stating us off?

Sarah "Goon #3": Sure thing boss, the Northern Sector has done well this past month, we were finally able to stop the drug ring that popped up there two months ago, we deposited the ringleaders at Commissioner Gordon's station.

Jason: Good, those bastards should have never showed up there in the first place, we're going to have more diligent in the future.

Sarah: My apologies, the north is my sector, I should have never let that happen.

Jason: It's alright Sarah, we all make mistakes, I wouldn't have made you one of my governors if I wasn't confident in your skills.

Sarah: Thank you.

Jason: Robert, what of the Eastern Sector?

Robert "Goon #1": All is well, the orphanage just opened its new wing, now we can accommodate another hundred kids. The new home ed. classrooms have also finished construction, but we're still looking for teachers properly qualified to teach.

Jason: Let's get working on that, those kids need to learn basic life skills, but remember to do thorough background checks, those kids have been through a lot, they don't need a maniac teaching them how to cook or how to use a circular saw.

Robert: You got it boss.

Jason: Amelia, what of the south?

Amelia "Goon #2": The Southern Sector is doing well, our food bank is still going strong thanks to Wayne Enterprises' weekly food donations. There is one thing however, this week the WE agent overseeing the delivery approached our head of operations for the food bank and said that Mr. Wayne would like to make a direct donation of 100 million dollars so we can expand our current location, as well as open a few more around the city. Elizabeth said she would have to talk to her superiors before accepting such a large monetary donation, the agent is expecting a response by the next delivery in five days.

Jason: How n̵͓̟̏͌i̴͎̎̔͜c̸͍̺͆̔è̷̢ of Mr. Wayne, I should pay him a visit to thank him in person. Amelia you can tell Elizabeth that she can accept Mr. Wayne's g̴̞̲̈́e̷̺͌n̶̞̝̉͒ḛ̷̹̍̀r̵̤͙̅o̶͎͆u̷͎̎s̴̪̒͌ donation. I'll also entrust you with setting up a committee to appropriate those funds, simply show me the names for approval.

Amelia: I'll start drawing up a list.

Jason: Henry, what of the west?

Henry "Goon #4": Uneventful, the arts academy is almost ready to open, the whole placed is furnished, we have staff lined up, final details should only take us a few more weeks, at most a month.

Danny: Arts Academy?

Henry: Hood's Academy for the Arts, a school to teach kids more artistic subjects, painting, pottery, acting, dancing, music, photography, cinematography, poetry, and the boss' favorite writing.

Jason: A well rounded education should allow kids to express their creativity, the Academy will hold classes during the weekends, as well as a summer semester for those who would be interested. We will be able to enroll as many as 5,000 students.

Henry: We made sure to hire a large staff, there will be plenty of teachers to ensure each classroom is a reasonable size, as well as many deans, councilors, library staff, and other members of administration, everything and anything that will make the students' time at the academy as easy and assessable as possible.

Jason: Thank you Henry.

Henry: Sure thing boss!

Jason (standing up): Well if that is all, then we're done here.

Sarah: Boss, wait!

Jason: Yes?

Sarah looked at Amelia.

Amelia: We're throwing a party, to celebrate all the progress we've made this month.

Robert: We know parties aren't your thing, but everyone would be happy to see you attend.

Henry: It'll make everyone's day.

Jason looked unsure about accepting the invitation, he looked over at Danny who was giving him a "please dad, let's go" face.

Jason (sighed): I suppose I can make an appearance.

Sarah, Robert, Amelia, and Henry: Yes!

Robert: You won't regret this boss!

Sarah: I'll run ahead and tell everyone!

Henry: Tonight it's going to be lit!

Amelia: We'll party till dawn!

Sarah, Robert, Amelia, and Henry ran ahead, Jason and Danny followed behind.

Jason: Kid, we will not be able to leave that party till well past dawn, my gang are party animals.

Danny: That's fine, besides you still need to introduce me to the gang at large.

Jason: I suppose that's true.

Danny: Come on dad, relax, you guys did a lot of good this month, you deserve to celebrate.

Jason: Ok, one night, but tomorrow it's back to work.

Danny: You got it!

(Master Post)

[theoutcastrogue]

In 1976, after Dungeons & Dragons co-creator Gary Gygax, the most important person in roleplaying games was a Los Angeles woman named Lee Gold. She still contributes to the hobby and still runs a campaign using her Lands of Adventure (1983) game. ...

The shabby state of D&D’s original rules inspired much discussion, and Lee’s [fanzine] Alarums & Excursions served as the hub of this network. “All the role players I know, when we looked a Gary Gygax’s game with its “% liar” and all its typos said, ‘this stuff needs tinkering.’ ... Everybody tinkered with D&D because it needed tinkering to be playable. The nice part about D&D was that it obviously needed player help. ...

Soon though, Gary came to hate APAs like A&E. Partly, he seemed to see APAs as ringleaders for thieves, and not just the sort who—in Gary’s estimation—stole a ride on his coattales. Remember that Lee Gold started with a photocopy of the D&D rules. Early on, copies of D&D, especially outside of TSR’s reach in the Midwest, proved scarce. The $10 price of the original box struck many gamers as outrageous. In the first issues of Alarums & Excursions, some contributors argued that TSR’s profiteering justified Xerox copies of the D&D rules. Gary wrote a rebuttal and Lee told readers that Gary deserved to gain from his work and investment. Surely though, he remained incensed. ...

Meanwhile, Lee published A&E and began writing games. Much of her work showed an interest in history and particularly Japan, where she lived 4 months during A&E’s first year. Land of the Rising Sun (1980) extended the Chivalry & Sorcery system to Japan. Her game Lands of Adventure (1983) aimed for roleplaying in historical settings. Her other credits include GURPS Japan (1988) and Vikings (1989) for Rolemaster. ...

Meanwhile, the men in gaming tended to suppose that only men contributed to the hobby. Lee remembers visiting the Origins convention and spotting shirts for sale that identified the wearer as a “wargaming widow.” Why else would a woman attend a gaming convention?

After Lee finished writing Land of the Rising Sun for Fantasy Games Unlimited, she met publisher Scott Bizar at a local convention to sign the contract. She recalls discussing the game’s credits.

“Do you want to say this game is written by yourself and your husband Barry?” Bizar asked.

“No,” I said. “Barry didn’t write any bit of it. He did the indexing, and I gave him full credit for that. I wrote all of the game. Just say the game is by Lee Gold.”

“Most female writers say they wrote a game with their husbands,” said Bizar.

“I don’t care what other people do,” I said. “Just say the game is by Lee Gold.” And so Land of the Rising Sun came out as written by Lee Gold.

Her one personal encounter with Gary Gygax revealed a similar bias. Early on, Lee sent copies of A&E to TSR. After a couple of months, she received a phone call, which she recounts.

“This is Gary Gygax,” said the voice, “and I’d like to speak to Lee Gold.”

“I’m Lee Gold,” I said. “I gather you got the copies of A&E I sent you.”

“You’re a woman!” he said.

“That’s right,” I said, and I told him how much we all loved playing D&D and how grateful we were to him for writing it.

“You’re a woman,” he said. “I wrote some bad things about women wargamers once.”

“You don’t need to feel embarrassed,” I said. “I haven’t read them.”

“You’re a woman,” he said.

We didn’t seem to be getting anywhere, so I told him goodbye and hung up.

[reallyromealone]

I am very sad.... (◞‸◟) This because you do not have a masterlist for Yuri on Ice. I love your child fic's ٩(^ᗜ^ )و ´- , and I want to request can you make omega child reader with Victor and Yuri? (Sorry if I spelt the name wrong)

Title: fight

Fandom: Yuuri on ice

Characters: Viktor, Yuuri, Yuri (mentioned)

Fic type: omegaverse

Pairings: viktuuri

Warnings: male reader, reader insert, child reader, Omega reader, omegaverse, slight angst

Notes:

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

Viktor and Yuuri ended practice early, walking into the school seriously and still in skating gear on Yuuri's end, his skates and bag over his shoulder "who attacked our son?" Yuuri seethed, the Omega scanning the area to spot their seven year old sitting with a bruised cheek and muddied uniform, across was a young alpha boy of the same age who looked worse for wear, uniform messy and muddied and a grimase on his face.

Viktor watched Yuuri go mama bear while he went to check on their pup, the young Omega upset as his papa checked him over "you're little hellion attacked my son!" The Alpha boys sire screamed angrily and Yuuri turned his attention to the other, an alpha woman and beta husband "I want to see the camera footage" Yuuri snapped before the Alpha could scream any further.

"N-now..." The principal tried to calm the Omega "no no, my son doesn't just hit other kids, he knows better now show me the footage" Yuuri snapped and Viktor lifted his tiny pup into his arms, the boy silent as he clung to him.

The parents watched the footage intently, little (name) was minding his business with a few of his friends, the boy and the others were really interested in pokemon cards these days as Viktor always got him a few packets when shopping.

Then came a group of boys, the ringleader being the little alpha, (name) seemed confused as the Alpha boy tried to rip off his collar only for (name) to push him back to keep him at a distance, the Alpha boy growing angry and punching him while screaming something the parents weren't privy to as there was no audio.

"We will be pressing charges" Viktor spoke up, staring at the principal and parents seriously who looked horrified "unless your son formally apologizes, you all get therapy and there will be class transfers on your son's end" Viktor was a reasonable man, the others nodding aggressively with panic as there wasn't a family in the area who didn't know about the skating couple.

(Name) Was quiet on the drive home, Yuuri worried as be held Viktors hand and the two glanced at each other.

"Sweety, do you want to talk about it" Yuuri asked as he sat with his pup, the boy fidgeting and refusing to make eye contact "he said... That I'm just a worthless Omega... That papa only married you because omegas were stupid..." Yuuri remembered seeing the rest of the video as Viktor threatened the parents, (name) lunged at the boy.

"You know that's not true, right?" Yuuri whispered softly and Viktor came in with some hot coco, marshmallows and all for the boy "I know... I was just mad"

"Well we aren't happy that it got violent but I'm glad you stuck up for yourself, my smart wonderful little omega" Viktor kissed the boys forehead and (name) huffed "whatever..."

"You're sounding like your uncle now!" Viktor teased as the family turned on a movie, Yuuri going to get the boy some ice from his swollen cheek, just wanting to care for their pup.

[scary-grace]

Enough to Go By (Chapter 12) - a Shigaraki x f!Reader fic

Your best friend vanished on the same night his family was murdered, and even though the world forgot about him, you never did. When a chance encounter brings you back into contact with Shimura Tenko, you'll do anything to make sure you don't lose him again. Keep his secrets? Sure. Aid the League of Villains? Of course. Sacrifice everything? You would - but as the battle between the League of Villains and hero society unfolds, it becomes clear that everything is far more than you or anyone else imagined it would be. (cross-posted to Ao3)

Chapters: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14

Chapter 12

Saintess.

You look down at Kazuo’s one-word text, your stomach twisting. You’ve got no idea where he got that name, or what question he was ordered to ask that led him to it. You text back. Is that even a real word?

The question was whether the League of Villains has allies beyond those who were present at Kamino. Kazuo texts back slowly. Too slowly. The typing bubble seems to hover forever. I was unable to give them any more information about the villain known as Saintess.

Kazuo’s careful with his words. If he framed the question that way, then your name would be excluded – even though you pal around with villains, even though you’re the girlfriend of the League’s ringleader, you haven’t committed a crime. The word ‘villain’ wouldn’t apply to you, which means you’re safe. Thank you.

We need to talk in person. Tonight.

Why?

I’ll meet you after work.

Meeting you after work means he’s coming to your workplace, after work. Whatever this is, it’s important. And it’s going to clash with one of your other plans, which is also important – and a lot harder to get out of. You hate yourself as you ask the question. How long will it take?

As long as it needs to. Kazuo doesn’t really get irritated anymore, but you can remember what it used to feel like when you pissed him off. Do you have somewhere to be?

You do, actually. Tenko is supposed to negotiate with Overhaul tonight, and he wants you to be there with him. Overhaul wants you there, too – when you listened in on the phone call, you heard him mention “the one in grey” specifically. What is this about?

The Shie Hassaikai.

Shit. Hold on.

You turn to nudge Tenko awake and find him watching you through half-lidded eyes. He doesn’t sleep much, but when he does, he sleeps like a log. He barely stirred when your alarm went off. “Who are you talking to?”

“My friend Kazuo.” You brace yourself. “I can’t go with you to meet Overhaul. I have to meet him instead.”

Tenko doesn’t look happy, and he’s still half-asleep. It’s going to get worse. “You have to go with me. He asked for you specifically. If you don’t go, he’ll suspect something.”

“Tell him we can’t tonight,” you say. “Even if we’re supposed to be allies, we shouldn’t jump just because he says so. That looks suspicious, too.”

“Maybe.” Tenko looks like he’s considering it for a second. Then he shakes his head. “Tell your friend you can’t.”

“I can’t do that. I have to meet him.”

Tenko’s eyes narrow. “Why?”

“He has a quirk called Search Engine. He works for the HPSC gathering intel.” You try to figure out a good way to phrase it, then realize there isn’t one. “He knows about you and me.”

“And he’s a hero?”

“Not exactly.” You wonder if there’s anything else Tenko needs to know. “It’s not relevant, but I dated him in high school.”

“What?” Tenko looks like he’s going to blow a fuse. You’re pretty sure the structural integrity of everything he’s touching is in danger at the moment, regardless of the gloves. “He’s blackmailing you. That’s why you have to go. I’ll kill him.”

“He’s not blackmailing me.” You can’t let Tenko meet Kazuo. You can’t let anything happen to your old friends because of your new ones. “He’s been telling me how to stay clear of his searches. This morning he texted me to let me know that my code name popped up, but nothing else.”

“He’s a hero, but he’s helping you,” Tenko repeats. His expression darkens. “He likes you. That’s why. Do you like him?”

“He’s my friend,” you say, exasperated. “Half the reason I dated him because he reminded me of you.”

Tenko coughs. “What?”

You decide to pretend you didn’t say that. You unlock your phone and show Tenko the conversation in question. “He has information about Overhaul. We need that. Before we meet him?”

“Why would he know you needed information about Overhaul? What does his quirk do?”

“Search Engine – it lets him find the answer to any question he asks,” you say. Tenko looks – well, you’re not sure how to classify that expression. Somewhere between skeptical, pissed, and panicked. Whatever it is, it’s uncomfortable. “The problem is that it’s hard to come up with a query that excludes every answer except the one you’re looking for. And all that information comes in at the same time, so it’s hard to sort through. He –”

You trail off, trying to figure out how to explain. “He went to UA, but they pushed him too hard. His mind broke down and he dropped out, but the HPSC conscripted him to help find you. And since I’m with you, and I’m his friend, he’s helping me avoid getting caught.”

“Which means helping me, too.” Tenko looks really skeptical now. “I don’t buy it. No hero would help you if it meant helping me at the same time.”

“He’s not a hero,” you say. “The heroic system ruined his life.”

That seems to land a little better with Tenko than your previous explanations. He hands your phone back to you. “So he knows something about the Hassaikai that he wants to tell you,” he says. You nod. “And the stuff he’s told you before has been useful.”

You nod again. “Then I’ll tell Overhaul to shove it,” Tenko decides. A smirk crosses his faith at the thought. “We’ll meet him tomorrow instead. He’s not the only ally we’re considering. He can wait his fucking turn.”

You text Kazuo back, confirming the meetup while Tenko reads over your shoulder. At first he’s just looking. Then his chin notches against your shoulder, his arms wrapping around your waist. He’s wearing the gloves he went to bed in, and you let him rustle around for a few moments, getting so close he’s practically glued to your back. That’s going to be a problem in a few minutes. You have to go to work. But at the same time, you aren’t ready to go just yet. Lately you only feel normal when you’re with him.

“That guy,” Tenko says after a minute or so. “Did you really date him because he reminded you of me?”

“I was always going to be friends with him, but he made me think of you, and that’s part of why I dated him.” It’s embarrassing to admit this. You don’t like thinking about how much of your life has been marked by losing Tenko. “He was what I imagined you’d be like. If nothing had changed.”

You hadn’t realized that there was something else to it at first. Kazuo was brilliant, and he was funny, and he was kind. Half the girls in your class had a crush on him, but he wound up with you, because you made sure you were there. If there was something he needed, you had it. If he needed a partner for an assignment, you were right there, on top of everything, ready to pitch in and make sure his ideas shone. If he wanted to talk, you dropped everything to listen. You weren’t playing a part; more auditioning for one. The job of Kazuo’s sidekick, in theory. In practice, his girlfriend.

He was your second boyfriend. Your first one was an asshole who cheated on you with Mitsuko, who dropped him when she found out and made you drop him, too. That was how the two of you met, and you’re still amazed that the two of you are friends rather than mortal enemies. Kazuo was different than that, almost perfect, a version of Tenko all grown up, without the scratching and the father who shouted and a heroic quirk. You know he loved you, and you were close even after the two of you broke up, until UA pushed his quirk past its limit. And you loved him, too, in a way that was probably healthier than the way you – feel – for Tenko. Like Kazuo said, all those months ago: He never tried to kill you. And you’d never step in front of a bullet for him.

“What I would have been like,” Tenko repeats. “You must have been disappointed when you saw how I turned out.”

You elbow him lightly. “What part of me chasing you down the street said ‘I’m disappointed’? Don’t be dumb.”

“Don’t fall in love with any more heroes, then.” Tenko lifts your phone out of your hands, drops it somewhere in the blankets on the bed, and pulls you back down with him. “I already locked it down.”

He’s kissing you, one of his hands flirting with the edge of your shirt, slipping beneath it. You touch the screen of your phone and wince when you see what time it is. “I have to go.”

“It won’t take long.” Tenko’s hand slides all the way under your shirt. “I know what you like now. I’ll be fast.”

He’s probably underestimating how much time it takes for you to get fully turned on, but then again, it feels different with him. And it’s not something you want to get into before work. “I bet I can be faster.”

“Huh? You can after I –”

You twist out of Tenko’s arms and push him onto his back. He was already half-hard when he was holding you. By the time you disappear under the blankets, there’s a noticeable tent in his sweatpants. You haven’t asked if he’s okay with this, but when you catch the waistband of his pants, he lifts his hips to let you pull them down. His voice is raspy when he says your name, and before you can ask for his consent more directly, his legs shift apart, making more room for you between them. That strikes you as an invitation. You get settled a little more comfortably, although you’re not expecting to stay here for long, before you lean in to drag your tongue across the tip of his cock.

Tenko’s hips jerk. “Hold still,” you say. “Or I stop.”

“Why do I have to hold still?” Tenko freezes anyway, and you almost laugh. “It’s not fair.”

“I said I was going to be fast. I need your help. You can help by holding still.”

“So you’ll stop if I don’t.”

“Let me think.” While you’re thinking, you lick the tip of his cock again, and this time, Tenko stays still. You reward him with a kiss, and slowly open your mouth, tasting him for a long moment before pulling away to speak. “I guess if you don’t hold still, I’ll have to hold you down.”

His hips jerk again. You feel the muscles in his thighs go tense. Is that an idea he likes? You were just being playful, flirty, but suddenly your head is full of the idea of pinning Tenko’s hips to the bed and teasing him until he can’t take it any longer. You don’t get the sense that it would take very long, so you carefully shift your weight, to the tune of a sharp intake of breath from the head of the bed. Suddenly the sheet shifts back, and you glance up to find Tenko propped up on his elbows and staring down at you with glassy eyes. He wants to watch you suck his cock. That’s fine with you.

Unlike the first time you touched him, Tenko keeps his hands to himself. They’re curled into fists at his sides – no, grasping at the sheets – no, grabbing a fistful of his pillow and holding on tight. You keep your attention focused on the tip of his cock, since you’re not confident in your ability to suppress your own gag reflex, and you really don’t want to ruin Tenko’s first blowjob ever. But you’re not going to say it isn’t tempting. Every time you glance upwards, he’s a little more undone.

You’re just considering whether it’s worth a shot when Tenko’s mouth opens and a plea spills out. “I need it. I need you.”

He needs you. You wonder if something so simply can really be the magic words, the thing that takes you from unsure to dead certain, but you’re already taking him further into your mouth, your tongue flat against the underside of his cock as you breathe through your nose. Tenko shudders, gasps so sharply that could almost be a whine. You struggle to think of a way to signal your approval and finally settle on running your thumb over the exposed crest of his hip. You had one hand free when you started; now you have two, because you’ve taken his cock so far into your mouth that there’s no room left for your hand.

With Tenko’s hips held down, there’s no risk that he’ll thrust and trigger your gag reflex. You draw back partially, then sink down again, far enough that the tip of your nose brushes the coarse dark hair at his groin. The thought crosses your mind of how disastrous it would be to sneeze right now, and shortly afterward, you discover how difficult it is to laugh with a cock in your mouth. Your throat convulses as you struggle to hold it back, and Tenko moans, so loud and desperate that your face flushes and head floods through you.

You’re not laughing anymore. You draw back and sink down again and again, trying to keep the motion as smooth and effortless as possible, and Tenko’s body seizes beneath you. His back arches, and he stammers out something like a warning. It’s late. You’re not a fan of the way cum tastes – you haven’t met anyone who is except Yoshimi, and you think she’s probably lying about that – but you find that you don’t mind so much when it’s Tenko’s. There are a lot of things you don’t mind so much when it’s him.

You pull away once he begins to go soft, then duck back in to kiss the spot on his hip you were running your thumb over. He doesn’t make any move to pull his sweatpants back up, so you do it for him, and you take the opportunity to look him over. You thought he was just worn out. Now you think he might be passed out. “Are you okay?”

One hand catches you by the front of your pajama shirt and yanks you down for a kiss. You try to hit the brakes – kissing after a blowjob is iffy, and you’re not sure if Tenko knows that – but he won’t let you, and your lips crash together hard. He speaks without letting you pull away. “You just sucked my soul out through my dick. Of course I’m okay.”

“I think those two statements contradict each other.”

“I don’t care.” Tenko’s other hand comes up, landing half on your hip, half on your ass. “My turn now.”

“No.” You pull away and scramble out of bed. “Maybe later. I have to go to work.”

“Maybe later?” Tenko looks affronted, or he would if he wasn’t struggling to keep his eyes open. “What? Do you think I’d be bad at it?”

“I don’t think that. I just have to go to work. And you need to go back to sleep.” You’re pretty sure his soul’s still attached, but you definitely sapped most of his energy. Not enough to stop him from pouting, though. “Definitely later. Is that better?”

“No.” Tenko yawns. “But I’ll take it.”

He lets you go, already half-asleep as you pull your hand free, and you head to the bathroom to brush your teeth, noting an odd spring in your step. You haven’t felt this good waking up in a while. Maybe you should start the day like this more often.

Nobody else is awake when you head out to the living room and kitchen, which isn’t a surprise. Compress has been sleeping a lot, which is good – an injury like his requires extra rest. Twice goes to bed early, like an old man, according to one of his two personalities. Toga stayed up late. So did Spinner, and so did Dabi. Dabi’s the only one who stirs when you start picking through the kitchen for breakfast. “If you’re gonna fuck him before seven am, tape his mouth shut first.”

Half of you cringes at the thought that Tenko was audible from the living room. The other half, though – “Nobody made you listen.”

“Kinky. Maybe we should change your code name, Saintess.”

“If you think that’s kinky, you really need to educate yourself.”

You probably would have thought not caring if someone was eavesdropping was kinky back in the day, but then you met Mitsuko. She and Dabi would probably hate each other. Then again, Mitsuko’s not above a bout of hatefucking. Maybe that would be good for her. Speaking from personal experience, there’s nothing like getting intimate with a villain to exorcise some of your hatred of heroes.

It doesn’t matter, because there’s no way you’re introducing your friends to the League. The fact that Kazuo knows is bad enough. You make tea, pick through the kitchen for something to eat on the walk to work, and put on your shoes. It occurs to you that you should probably say something Dabi, because he’s awake, but you can’t figure out what it should be. “Um, have a good day.”

His response comes back dripping with condescension. “You have a good day too, Saintess.”

You lock the door, struggling to suppress an eyeroll. He’ll probably give Tenko a hard time once Tenko wakes up, but hopefully the blowjob high will insulate Tenko from caring about it too much. That’s not the only thing you’re hoping it’ll insulate Tenko from. At some point today he’s going to remember that you’re meeting up with your hero-adjacent ex-boyfriend after work, and the less time he spends thinking about that, the better.

You’re worried work will drag, but it speeds past, keeping you busy enough that you don’t worry too much about the fact that the League is still holed up in your apartment. Kurogiri’s looking for another potential hideout, but you don’t get the sense that any of them are in a particular hurry to leave. After all, your place is a guaranteed roof over their heads, a source of running water, a source of internet access, and a semi-comfortable place to sleep, more comfortable now that you’ve invested in an air mattress that sleeps two. You wouldn’t want to leave, if you were them.

You’re not sure you want them to, either. When you’re with them, you don’t have to lie to anybody about what you’re doing. When you’re with them, you’re not worried about being found out. When you’re with them, you’re with Tenko, and you – like him. You like him so much that you stepped in front of a bullet for him and gave him head with absolutely zero prompting. You’re not sure which of those is more out of character for you.

Your last patient of the day has a weird injury, weird in that even when you rack your brain, you can’t think what could have possibly caused it. It seems like his hand’s been degloved completely, then flipped inside out, with veins and muscles and layers of fat on the surface and skin enfolding his bones. “This was a quirk,” you say, once you’ve clenched your jaw and concealed the surprise. The patient nods. “What happened?”

He shakes his head. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have asked that. It’s not our policy to ask questions like that,” you say. The patient shrugs. He’s not the most talkative, which is fine. You get his permission and take some pictures, getting as many views of it as you can, before you render a potential treatment plan. “I’m going to call a doctor to look at this, but based on what I’m seeing, this is a hospital matter. We’ll most likely prescribe you some painkillers for the trip and wrap this up to prevent any more exposure to bacteria. Do you have any questions?”

“Are you sure you can’t fix it here?” The patient’s expression says he doesn’t want anything to do with the hospital, which isn’t a surprise, but you’re fairly sure the doctor will be able to talk him into it. “They fixed whatever’s wrong with your hand, right?”

You glance at your bandaged hand, surprised. You’re still covering the scratches Tenko left, just because the scabs keep cracking. “That’s different. Mine are superficial. Yours is – just sit tight. I’ll grab the doctor and she can explain.”

The doctor on call is on break, and not happy to be interrupted. “Sorry,” you say. “The patient in Exam 3 – his hand’s turned inside out. He doesn’t want to go to the hospital, but –”

“What do you mean, turned inside out?”

“I mean, the muscles and blood vessels are on the outside,” you say. The doctor’s eyes widen. “He might need emergency surgery to keep the hand, and it’s probably infected already. I can’t talk him into going to the hospital. I’m just a nurse. Maybe if you explain –”

The doctor sets her bento aside and gets to her feet. “Did he say how it happened?”

“It was a quirk,” you say. “I took photos already. I’ll add them to our database while you talk to him.”

“Name, age, quirk.”

“He didn’t give a name. Early thirties. Quirk – I don’t know what it’s called, but his hair looks like arrows.” Sometimes quirks are easy for you to guess. Sometimes not. “He’s a little guarded, but he came here for help. That counts for something, right?”

The doctor nods. “Upload the photos. I’ll go talk to him.”

You added the photos to the clinic’s shared drive already, and you steal the doctor’s chair to upload them to the database that covers all the clinics in the network. Keeping a database of quirk-related injuries helps identify trends, develop treatment protocols, and tailor supply and personnel distribution. If a lot of burn injuries are showing up at a particular clinic, it’s helpful to be able to supply that clinic properly. But you’ve never seen an injury like this before, and when you add the photos to the ‘open wounds’ folder in the database, you realize that no one else has, either. There’s nothing even remotely close. What kind of quirk could do this?

You’re puzzling over it, wondering if it’s worth querying public records over, when you hear a door open and shut down the hallway. At first you think it’s the doctor coming back. Then you hear the exit door at the far end of the hallway open and shut, too, and thirty seconds later, you realize that something’s wrong.

You race down the hall, skidding into Exam 3, and find the doctor sprawled out on the ground, conscious and aware and bleeding from a superficial scrape in her upper arm – but not moving. “What happened?”

She tries to answer you, but she’s speaking with agonizing slowness, almost completely unintelligible even when you try to read her lips. You hurry forward, checking her respiration and heart rate, horrified to find at least thirty seconds passing between each beat of her heart. What is this? How is she still alive? The first answer is clear: A quirk. Your patient’s quirk, which you didn’t ask about, because it’s policy not to ask. The second answer’s in doubt, and although it’s never happened while you’ve been on shift in three and a half years of working at the clinic, you know what protocol mandates when a staff member is attacked.

You press the panic button taped to the underside of the desk – why didn’t the doctor go for it? – triggering a clinic-wide alert and placing an automatic call to the emergency line. Then you turn your attention back to the doctor, the doctor you sent in here alone, checking for pupil movement, for pallor, for anything to tell you whether you need to call a code along with the alert.

Emergency services get there before law enforcement’s even left the station, and because you had contact with the attacker, too, you’re sent along in the ambulance to Yokohama General. You spend the entire way there trying to stay out of the EMTs’ way and trying to apologize to the doctor before letting this happen, until one of the EMTs tells you to can it. “If you’d known, you wouldn’t have sent anyone, but you didn’t. Put the blame where it belongs.”

That’s hard to do. Lately you’ve been so used to placing the blame on yourself that it’s turning into your default position, but this time, it really isn’t your fault. You never would have sent the doctor to check on the patient if there’d been any indication that he was dangerous. You didn’t know. That’s all.

At Yokohama General, the doctor’s whisked up to intensive care, while you’re held back in the emergency room. You’re not sure what they’re looking for – you touched the patient while you were unwrapping the bandage he’d tied around the wound, and nothing happened to you – but you hang out in an exam room anyway, with nothing to do but nap behind a curtain and text Kazuo. Might be late. Somebody attacked a doctor at work and I’m at the hospital.

“I know.”

You nearly jump out of your skin. The curtain peels back and reveals Kazuo standing there, wearing a pair of glasses and a suit jacket over his usual white shirt and slacks. The man standing next to him is wearing a suit and a pair of glasses, too – but his suit is grey, and his hair is green with streaks of yellow, and –

Sir Nighteye. You shrink back in horror, and the third member of the trio, a blue-skinned woman with a mask over her face, pipes up in a hurry. “Don’t worry, we’re here to help! Sir is very friendly! He loves to laugh!”

Sir Nighteye glances briefly at you, then looks to Kazuo. “Is this your friend?”

“I would give her space,” Kazuo says. “She was attacked on her way home last year, and was a first responder to the incident at Kamino Ward. Therapy for these traumatic experiences has not progressed as far as those who care for her might have hoped.”

You give Kazuo a dirty look, which he ignores. “I see,” Sir Nighteye says, and takes a notable step back. “I understand you had contact with the individual who attacked your coworker.”

“Yes. I examined him.” You wonder how Nighteye’s quirk works. How long it works for, and if he uses on you, how far ahead in your life he’ll be able to see. “If I had known what he was going to do –”

“That wouldn’t have been possible,” Nighteye interrupts. Maybe it’s eye contact. You bow your head. “Describe the injury to me.”

“Um –” The word that comes to mind is ‘horrific’, but after what you’ve seen over the last few months, your bar for horrific is pretty high. “It looked like his hand had been turned inside out. Skin on the inside, veins on the outside.”

“I see. Did it appear to be clean?”

“What?”

“The separation of the skin on his hand from his wrist,” Sir Nighteye says, impatient. “Was it jagged or clean?”

“Oh.” You think of the photos you took. “Jagged.”

“But the skin was otherwise intact?”

“Yes.”

“I see,” Nighteye says again. What does he see? You need to know. You need to know if you can go home tonight, or if you have to stay as far away from Tenko and the others as possible to keep them safe. “You’ve been working there for three and a half years. Have you seen an injury of that type before?”

“No,” you say. “Not in our database, either. He said it was caused by a quirk, but our protocols don’t allow us to ask more than that.”

“Kiyohara.” Nighteye doesn’t say more than Kazuo’s family name, but it’s clear what he wants. “Now.”

Kazuo’s hesitating, and you know why. “That question is too broad,” you say to Nighteye. Nighteye pushes his glasses further up the bridge of his nose with his middle finger, eyebrows raised. “It has to be more specific, or the information influx will risk overloading his brain. Since you don’t care about his health, maybe you’ll care about the fact that he won’t be useful at all after a grand mal seizure.”

You haven’t blown up on a hero, ever. Suddenly you get why Mitsuko’s been doing it. It feels good, and Nighteye, unlike the sidekicks, doesn’t rise to the bait. “Is that so?” he asks Kazuo. Kazuo nods. “We’ll secure as much information as possible before you make the query. As of now, you’re off-duty. And you’re free to go.”

That last is to you, but a warning look from Kazuo keeps you seated on the bed until Nighteye and his sidekick are gone. You open your mouth and he holds up his hand. It pisses you off. “Don’t shush me. What was that about?”

“Not here. Outside.”

You grit your teeth and follow Kazuo out through the emergency room and onto the street. It’s dark, and with autumn well on its way, the wind whipping between the buildings is cold. You follow Kazuo for two blocks, then into a park, before he stops walking and turns to face you. “You shouldn’t have spoken up. I told you – you can’t save both of us.”

“So I was supposed to just sit there while he made you overload your quirk?” You’re already out of patience. “No. Tell me what’s going on. Right now.”

“The Nighteye agency is investigating the Shie Hassaikai,” Kazuo says. Your jaw drops. “They’ve enlisted the help of dozens of unaffiliated heroes. It’s the largest operation any hero has conducted since Kamino, and it will be far better planned than Kamino was. Sir Nighteye won’t act until he’s certain of victory.”

“Why are they investigating the Hassaikai?” you choke out. “Is it because of –”

“Your friend’s involvement is tangential. They aren’t after him this time.” Kazuo’s hand rises to his temple, and you catch it, pull it back down. You spend a lot of time dragging your friends’ hands away before they can hurt themselves. “Nighteye has been pursuing the Hassaikai since before Kamino. Their investigation is related to the distribution of Trigger. You’re familiar?”

You nod. A solid thirty percent of your patients who show up in costume are showing up after experiencing the adverse effects of Trigger. The compound boosts quirk activation at the cost of everything else, and it’s one of those things you’ll never understand about people with quirks – that constant desire for more of it, more power, more everything. “The Hassaikai’s involved with that?”

“They’re distributing an inferior version of it,” Kazuo says. Tenko didn’t know that. You know he didn’t, because he would have told you. How much else doesn’t he know? “And lately they’ve been distributing something else as well. Bullets that erase quirks.”

“I know,” you say. Kazuo looks surprised. “It’s temporary, but they work.”

Compress’s quirk came back within twenty-four hours, but you know it’ll be a long time before anyone in the League forgets what happened in that warehouse. The bruise on your shoulder is fading, but the creepy red lines haven’t. “Nighteye believes that Chisaki is pursuing a more permanent version of the quirk-erasing bullets, and doing so through less than ethical means,” Kazuo says. “Every use of my quirk in the last six weeks has been related to this investigation. Your new name came up in my queries because you crossed paths with Chisaki once. If you, personally, aid him in any way, you’ll become one of the investigation’s targets. So will your friend.”

Chisaki must be Overhaul’s family name. You wonder if he’s got a family. “I don’t think we’re planning to help him,” you say, and see Kazuo’s eyebrows lift. “He killed one of us and maimed another one. That’s not forgivable.”

“Indeed.” Kazuo sits down on a bench, and so do you. It’s quiet for a little while. “So. Saintess.”

“I didn’t pick it.”

“I know,” Kazuo says. Of course he does. “I’d have advised you to choose a name soon regardless. As this escalates, you’ll need to shield your true identity.”

“So I won’t go to jail,” you clarify.

“So you won’t be killed,” Kazuo says. You stare at him. “I’m aware of the – position – you hold in your friend’s organization. If his enemies believe they can use you against him, they will do it, and since targeting you when you’re with him will be difficult, they’ll do it when you’re alone, as a civilian. My query indicated that you haven’t been found out, but today was a very near miss.”

That should make sense to you. You force yourself to think. Why would the Nighteye agency care about an attack in a free clinic on the rough side of Yokohama? They wouldn’t, unless – “Was that guy one of the Hassaikai?”

“Sir Nighteye suspects he is. He won’t know for sure until I search,” Kazuo says. His phone buzzes. He checks it and sighs. “My parameters are in. I’ll let you know what I find.”

“Kazuo –” You don’t know what to say, and he’s already getting to his feet. “Why are you helping me so much? You could get in trouble.”

“I don’t care about that,” Kazuo says. He barely cares about anything anymore. Seeing the apathy overtake him for the past three years has been agonizing. “The world your friend wishes to create, a world without heroes, is a world where this would not have happened to me. It’s too late for me, but there are others who could be spared.”

You look at him, feeling your throat tighten and your eyes burn. “I’m sorry.”

“I told you,” Kazuo says, for the third time today, over his shoulder as he starts the walk back to Yokohama General, “you can’t save us both.”

You’ve always thought he meant himself and Tenko when he said that. Now you wonder if he means himself and you. You wonder what saving either of you would mean. And you wonder if it’s too late for you already.

Your phone buzzes, and you look at it. It’s the new group chat, the one you made because you couldn’t face the thought of never seeing Sho or Hirono’s phone numbers pop up again. Mitsuko’s texting you. And Ryuhei. Quit being a stranger. Come hang with us.

Tenko and the others are already expecting you to be out tonight, and you never said how long you’d be gone. Where are you?

Look up.

You look up, and sure enough, your friends are strolling towards you. “Kazuo dropped a pin,” Ryuhei calls once he’s in earshot. “We never see you anymore.”

It’s been a while since you saw Ryuhei, but Mitsuko? “We saw each other five days ago, Mitsu.”

“Yeah, but that wasn’t exactly fun. And you had to run off to your stupid job.” Mitsuko rolls her eyes. “Come on. Let’s go out. I swear I won’t get wasted and spit on any more sidekicks.”

“And no peeing on the All Might statue.”

“Fine.” Mitsuko heaves a dramatic sigh, while Ryuhei cracks up. “Drinks first.”

“Drinks,” Ryuhei agrees. “I found a maid bar, and they’ll treat me like a creep if I go in there alone.”

You’re pretty sure the three of you together look weirder strolling into a maid bar than Ryuhei would have by himself, but nobody who works there comments on it, and they’re nicer to you than you expected them to be. One of them knows you – she’s one of the people who uses the clinic as a primary care provider, so you’ve seen her a few times a year for the past three years. She cracks a joke about how Ryuhei would look better in a maid costume than she would, which leads directly into Mitsuko bullying him into trying on the headpiece of one of the costumes. You take a picture before you can stop yourself and drop it in the group chat. Kazuo’s busy, but now there’s a record, and you’re pretty sure it’ll make Yoshimi laugh.

You’ve been most comfortable with Tenko and the League lately, but it’s nice to have a night out with your friends, too – one that’s not complicated by your involvement with your childhood best friend turned boyfriend, who probably fits the criteria of a domestic terrorist and who’s been living in your apartment on and off for the past six weeks with his gang of domestic terrorist friends. Mitsuko and Ryuhei are the most irreverent of your group, and they live the closest to the edge. Ryuhei has a record that isn’t his fault – his quirk is entirely unconscious, and when a sidekick launched a quirk-based attack at him while he was running away from a building he’d graffitied, he couldn’t stop himself from reflecting it back. Mitsuko doesn’t have a record, but the cops in Yokohama know her too well to ever give her the benefit of the doubt again. They might have the privilege of having quirks, but you’ve always been able to complain with them in a way that you haven’t with the others.

After the maid café, you find yourselves at karaoke. You collectively suck at karaoke. Ryuhei’s got the best voice, but his enunciation is the first thing to go when he’s drunk, and you can’t listen to him slurring his way through a song without laughing. Mitsuko is tone-deaf, but makes up for it with enthusiastic dance moves, and there’s absolutely nothing about your performances that stands out. You’re such a nonevent at karaoke that Sho used to fall asleep when it was your turn to sing.

It should be fun. It used to be fun. But you’ve lost two friends now. One of your friends is sick, while another’s being forced into work that could snap his mind in two. Mitsuko isn’t okay; you’re not okay. Ryuhei isn’t, either, and when the three of you are alone and you run out of things to talk about, there’s no point in pretending otherwise.

“Everything sucks now,” Ryuhei says in a break between songs. “Not just since they died. For a while.”

“It sucked the whole time. We just didn’t admit it.” Mitsuko is facedown in one of the pillows on the couch. Her voice is muffled. “It was always bullshit. When they were here, it was easier not to think about it.”

“I miss them,” you say. Your voice wavers, but only once. “I wish they were here.”

“Yeah. They should be here, and those heroes shouldn’t.” Ryuhei’s words are slurred, but he’s getting his point across just fine. “If they’re so great, how come nine hundred people died on their watch?”

They sound like Tenko. He’d be happy to hear this, and like you’ve summoned him just by thinking of him, your phone pings with a text from the burner phone Tenko’s been using to call people – Kurogiri, Overhaul, and you. When are you coming back?

I’ll be back tonight.

When?

Can’t he just trust you? You’re about to text back that you’ll be home when you’re done when Mitsuko scoops the phone out of your hands. “Your new boyfriend’s kind of clingy, huh?”

“No,” you say. Part of you gets a stupid little thrill out of admitting that Tenko’s your boyfriend. “Not clingy. He knows I was meeting Kazuo tonight.”

Mitsuko makes an error sound. “Bad move. Telling the new boy about the former boy makes the new boy insecure.”

“No –”

“Especially if the first guy is Kazuo,” Ryuhei says. “Fucking hell. If I was dating his ex and she went out to meet him – and she didn’t tell me when she was coming back – I’d probably shit a brick.”

“Thanks. I really could have done without that picture in my head.” Even as you return fire, you’re wondering if they’ve got a point. If it’s not just that Kazuo’s working for the heroes. If any part of it is that Tenko’s jealous of the guy you dated before him. “What should I do?”

Mitsuko’s still holding your phone, and to your horror, she sends a text. This is Mitsu. Your girlfriend’s not banging her ex, she’s hanging with us. Chill out.

Tenko texts back immediately. Two words. Prove it.

“He wants proof,” Mitsuko announces. “Selfie time! Look cute.”

You can’t manage looking cute. You’re too stressed to look cute, and too distracted by the stupid faces your friends are making. Mitsuko snaps a photo and sends it off, followed by a text. Your turn.

For what?

To prove you’re not banging your ex right now.

You cringe. “He doesn’t have any exes.”

“Aww, you’re his first? No wonder he’s acting like such a freak.” Mitsuko snickers. “It’s fine, anyway. We already know what he looks like.”

Something about that strikes you as odd, but before you can ask, Ryuhei pulls a phone out of his pocket. Not his. This one has a cracked screen and a case with an Endeavor pinup card taped to the back, and all at once there’s a lump in your throat. “Is that Hiro’s?”

“Yeah. They released her personal effects, fucking finally. I was her emergency contact, so I got them.” Mitsuko takes the phone from Ryuhei, your phone forgotten even as it pings again. “You know she was conscious under there?”

Your stomach clenches. “No.”

“Like the whole time. When I unlocked it, there were a whole bunch of undelivered messages, to all of us. I guess the wreckage blocked the signal.” Mitsuko’s voice is flat. Her eyes are filling with tears. “She recorded a message for us. Here.”

You don’t want to listen. You don’t want to see. Not when you had something to do with the disaster that killed her, not when it’s partially your fault. The screen is black, but you can hear Hirono’s voice, rough and choked with dust and tears as she tells all of you that she loves you, that she hated waking up most mornings except that you all made her stupid life worth living. No jokes about Endeavor. No picking on you for being boring or Mitsuru for being a simp for his latest girlfriend or Mitsuko for whatever item of clothing she bought that Hirono hates. Just Hiro saying she loves you. And Hiro saying goodbye.

You’re crying by the end of it, messy, stupid tears. Ryuhei’s teared up, too, but unlike you, he’s still able to talk. “That was the last audio clip,” he says. “There were a bunch of others. While she was trying to grab the phone, I guess. The first one was really interesting.”

He presses play on it, and you know instantly what it’s recording: The fight between All Might and All For One, audio that the news helicopters couldn’t have picked up, audio that would have been suppressed if anyone had gotten ahold of it. All For One is taunting All Might over his failures, mocking him for his ideals, the same words you can imagine Tenko using but with thousands of times more glee. And then you hear it, All For One’s voice chilling your blood even through a recording: “There is one thing you might be interested to know. Shigaraki Tomura, my apprentice? He was once known as Shimura Tenko – your beloved master’s grandson!”

You freeze in place. “That name sounded kind of familiar,” Ryuhei says, after he’s hit pause. “We couldn’t figure out why at first. Yoshimi was the one who got it. Shimura Tenko was your friend. The one who went missing.”

“We all told you he was dead, but you were right and we were wrong.” Mitsuko sprawls out on the couch, staring up at the ceiling. “We figured there couldn’t be two, so we checked with Kazuo, and then we asked if we should tell you. If it wouldn’t be too hard on you with everything else going on. You know what he said?”

You can guess. “He said, What makes you think she doesn’t know?” Ryuhei mimics Kazuo’s frozen voice. “And then it all made sense. Why you’ve been acting so weird. Why you haven’t been around. Where you got that weird scar on your wrist –”

“And that bite mark on your neck,” Mitsuko adds, and your hand flies up to cover it even though it’s long gone. She waves your phone at you, the screen lit up with texts from Tenko. “I’m texting Shigaraki Tomura right now, aren’t I?”

You could lie. You need to lie. But even as you’re stammering through the first sentence of your denial, you know it’s too late. Your friends know. Kazuo as good as told them. And in some weird way, you’re relieved. You don’t have to lie any more. You can let it go. So you stop talking, except for one sentence. “Please don’t tell anyone.”

“Are you kidding me? We don’t want to rat you out,” Ryuhei says. “We want in.”

You stare at him. “We want to meet him first,” Mitsuko says. “Since you’ve been hung up on him since you were a toddler and your judgment with guys isn’t usually garbage –”

“But we want in,” Ryuhei interrupts. “Like we said. It’s been bullshit for a long time. At least your psycho boyfriend is doing something about it.”

“So?” Mitsuko looks at you expectantly. “When do we meet him?”

Your phone pings again, and again – and then it starts ringing. Mitsuko holds it out to you, and you answer the call. “My friends want to meet you.”

“I’m not jealous,” Tenko says. Someone guffaws in the background. “I’m not. I thought someone had – when are you getting back? It’s –”

“My friends want to meet you,” you say again. “Do you want to meet them?”

“They want to meet me,” Tomura repeats. He sounds just as confused as you feel. “Like, me, or –?”

“They know. I didn’t tell them, they guessed.”

“We want in,” Ryuhei says loudly, and you jump. “Do we have to audition or something? I’ve got a record.”

“I’d have one if I hadn’t blown my arresting officer,” Mitsuko adds from your other side, and someone on the other end of the line – probably Spinner – breaks out in a coughing fit. “So?”

Tomura’s quiet for a second. “In a few days,” he says. Ryuhei digs an excited elbow into your side. “Tell them they’d better know exactly what “in” means for them.”

“I’ll tell them,” you say. He’s stressed. You can tell. This is your fault. “Sorry.”

“Don’t. When are you coming back?”

“Soon,” you say. “I promise. I –”

Whatever you were going to say gets drowned out by Mitsuko making incredibly loud kissing sounds right next to the microphone. You hang up and shove her away, hard. Not that it bothers her. She’s cackling to herself. “He said yes?”

“In a few days. And you’d better know exactly what you mean when you say you’re in.”

“Nice!” Ryuhei gives you what’s probably a friendly punch in the arm, and you recoil with a hiss. He hit just above the impact point of Overhaul’s bullet. “Oh, sorry.”

Mitsuko has a weird look on her face now. You decide not to overreact to it. She might just be drunk. When Ryuhei hops up to go rent your karaoke booth for another hour, she turns to you. “Does he hurt you?”

“Who, Ryuhei?”

“No. Your boyfriend.” Mitsuko’s expression is serious, maybe more serious than you’ve ever seen it. “That thing on your wrist. I remember when your voice was fucked up, too. There’s more, right? Something’s up with your shoulder. Did he do that?”

You shake your head. You didn’t step in front of the bullet on Tenko’s orders. He was mad at you for doing it. “But he’s hurt you before,” Mitsuko says. You open your mouth and she talks right over you. “You’re going to say he didn’t mean to, right?”

But he didn’t. The first time, he didn’t remember you until it was almost too late. When he bit you, he didn’t realize how hard he was doing it, just like he didn’t realize he’d activated his quirk the first time you touched him. When his nails tore up the back of your hand, it was because you put your hand there. “He didn’t mean to,” you say. Mitsuko makes a derisive sound. “Don’t. I know him and you don’t. He didn’t mean to.”

“Just because he’s sorry doesn’t mean he didn’t mean it,” Mitsuko says. “I know guys like him. I know them better than you do.”

Guys like him. Magne said something like that, too. You didn’t try to talk her out of it, and you don’t try to talk Mitsuko out of it, either – just like you’ve given up trying to talk Tenko out of the lies his master told him for now. “You’ll meet him soon. You can make up your own mind.”

Ryuhei comes back, and you and Mitsuko shut up in unison. “We got another hour, but then they’re kicking us out,” he reports. “We got another few songs. Who wants to sing?”

You don’t to. Mitsuko does, though, and after two songs from her, Ryuhei commandeers the mic and forces you to sing. Like always, you’re boring enough to send at least one of your friends to sleep, and with Mitsuko passed out on the couch, you hand the mic back to Ryuhei. He’s in a good mood, at least partially because he’s drunk, but you’re most of the way to sober, and you can’t help feeling like you’ve screwed up. You wanted to keep your friends out of this, and they’re in. You’re this close to getting Kazuo in trouble, too. And you’ve let Tenko down. Again.

You text him, wondering if he’s still awake, hoping he isn’t. I’m sorry.

Don’t. We still need allies, and if you trust them, I can trust them, too. Tenko’s response comes back fast, and the weight of his trust knocks the air out of you. When are you coming home?

We’re leaving soon. I should be home in an hour or so.

Good. Tenko’s immediate response gives you that weird hit of normalcy again. It’s a normal conversation, the kind you’d be having if you’d grown up together and gotten together and moved in together, if nothing had gone wrong. I miss you.

I miss you too.

“Hey,” Ryuhei says, and you look up. “I’m putting on the performance of a lifetime here. You two aren’t even watching?”

“Sorry,” you say. Mitsuko sits up, then lies back down with her head in your lap. “Go for it.”

Ryuhei gets back to it, aiming slightly sulky looks your way, and you settle in. You keep your eyes on him, but your mind’s left the building. It’s already on the train, halfway back to your apartment, all the way back to your apartment, through the front door and home to your best friend.

[cantstoplovingjude]

Underneath the Black Veil: Jude Jazza Epilogue

This is from Ikemen Villains EN, Cybird owns everything.

It was our wedding day.

We'd made a vow of love that was more like a curse, binding ourselves to each other until death.

Kate: "Jude, I'm really okay now."

Jude: "That's for me to decide."

But right after our wedding, several armed thugs attacked us with weapons.

Amidst the scuffle, I couldn't help but think how beautiful the shower of broken glass how beautiful the shower of broken glass was as it gleamed through the air.

The ringleader of the attack had been rendered unconscious by my groom's merciless kick. Apparently, he had some kind of grudge against Jude.

Speaking of my husband, he was currently examining every inch of me to make sure I was all right.

My wedding dress was barely hanging onto me.

And that wasn't the work of the thugs, but my husband's.

Jude: "Oy, I can't see. Look this way, at me."

Kate: "Jude..."

This wasn't the first time he'd seen my bare skin.

But that was precisely why my body was reacting to his rough touch.

Kate: "N-ngh..."

I bit the back of my hand to suppress the moan that threatened to spill out as his fingertips grazed my skin.

Kate: "I told you I'm fine, so you really don't have to check so thoroughly!"

Every time he touched me or looked at me, I felt my body heating up.

Jude: "I need to see every scratch on your body, so I know just how to torture the bastards who did this."

Jude: "Tch... I'm gonna find out who leaked the damn info 'bout our wedding, too."

As I listened to him muttering with irritation, I remembered how reluctant he'd been about having the wedding.

(Maybe...)

Kate: "Is this the real reason why you were against having a ceremony...?"

Jude: "Huh?"

He glare at me, scowling.

The fact that I actually adored that expression on his face meant I was too far gone.

Kate: "So that I wouldn't end up in danger?"

Jude: "First you're lookin' 'round at the pretty sparkles, now you're grinnin' like a fool. The hell's your problem?"

Kate: "You didn't deny it."

Jude: "Cuz you're just gonna interpret it however ya want anyway."

Kate: "Aha, that's true."

Jude: "Go on 'n laugh now. But one wrong move 'n they coulda stabbed ya to death."

His long fingers slipped down from my breasts to my stomach.

Kate: "Ahh, mm..."

The stimulation only made the desire inside of me build more, and a moan slipped out.

Jude: "...The hell are ya moanin' for?"

Kate: "I was just surprised!"

Jude: "Oh yeah?"

Without warning, he roughly pushed me down onto the bed.

He loomed over me, his hands gripping onto my waist.

Jude: "I forgot. There's still places I gotta examine."

He pushed up my wedding dress and lifted my legs into the air, spreading them.

Kate: "Jude!"

I shrieked his name in surprise, heat bursting across my cheeks and deep in my belly.

Jude: "So that's the sound ya make when you're just surprised, huh?"

Jude: "Lewd."

Kate: "H-hold on a second."

Jude: "Hm? What was that?"

A sharp pain raced through me as he nipped at the tender flesh of my inner thigh.

Kate: "Nngh!"

Jude: "That hurt?"

I nodded. But he already knew that pain wasn't the only thing I felt when he did that to me.

Every time he sank his teeth into my feverish skin, my heart raced and a sweet throbbing sensation built up inside me.

And as his tongue sweetly traced the bite marks he'd left, an even deeper desire pulsed through me.

Jude: "Ya really love pain, don't ya?"

I bit my lip hard when I heard that teasing tone in his voice.

Kate: "You made me that way."

He was the one who turned pain and shame into pleasure, who made me get off on it.

He was the one who changed everything I thought about what made me feel good.

Jude: "Mm, I love that sexy look on your face."

Jude: "I won't let ya go even if you cry or scream tonight, just how ya like it."

A sweet shiver ran through my spine as his eyes glowed with a sadistic passion he didn't even try to conceal.

With him, I'm sure it would be heaven even if he made love to me on a bed of nails.

==========

Jude: "We're both outta our minds, ya know that?"

He murmured as he lightly caressed my left hand, my fingers uncurling from the sheets to lace with his.

He wore an identical wedding band on his left ring finger.

And I couldn't help but grin when I saw it.

Jude: "Now what're ya grinnin' at?"

Jude: "What's so great 'bout that foul contract we made, huh?"

Kate: "You said so yourself. Those who will break the vow will break it. Those who can keep it will keep it until they die."

Jude: "How the hell can ya remember somethin' I said so long ago in that lil brain of yours?"

Kate: "That last part was unnecessary."

Jude: "How can that bird brain hold so many memories?"

Kate: "...I feel like the insults are just getting worse now."

Jude: "So what?"

Kate: "You're the kind of person who won't break his vows, no matter how foul they are."

Kate: "And because I know that, I'm happy."

Kate: "The fact that you made a vow to me..."

Kate: "Means you're going to keep to it, no matter what."

Jude: "...Even though y'know it'll just hurt ya in the end."

Jude: "The fact that you're happy there's no escape from me for the rest of your life means you're hopeless."

The man I loved was a dangerous man who earned people's grudges and got attacked in broad daylight, even on the day of his wedding.

But I knew a long time ago that being with him meant facing endless danger.

Kate: "You're the one who made me like the pain."

Jude: "Oh, so now you're blamin' me, huh?"

Despite his sarcastic tone, his touch was gentle as he stroked my hair.

Jude: "Nasty lil princess."

End Epilogue

[randomizer971]

Wakfu The Great Wave : Chapter 16

Beware of spoilers and mentions of child abuse/mutilation.

Chapter 16 starts with Lilotte's lookalike. I call her Linot, but she was introduced as #13 in this chapter. Here she is, presenting the stolen jewel to the ringleader of her group.

The old Ouginak, who looks like a walrus and must smell like one too, berates the kid for getting caught when she was stealing the ring.

Walrus guy, colourised :

This is when his cruelty is displayed for the majority of this short chapter. Walrus forces the starving urchins he "took under his care" to steal for him, and doesn't hesitate to beat and mutilate them as punishment. Several children are shown with scars and missing limbs and eyes.

You don't need a business degree to understand that thieves and pickpockets need those body parts for their questionable activities. How is butchering those kids going to make them more efficient or Walrus any richer? The only way would be if the kids were to beg in the streets, once they are too maimed to steal. Awful business model, terrible, in the long run, BUT at least it would make more sense than this blind violence. Oh well, trash will trash.

There might be no justice irl, but there is some in Wakfu!

While the wretched walrus was waving that blade and yelling like a chihuahua, a lone hero appeared. HIM !

Obviously, Joris was ready to save the day and clean up the trash (off-screen).

That panel with Walrus hearing the boss music was chef's kiss!

After dealing with Walrus, Joris then guided the children to his shop. It was so sad seeing them walk among the population. Some of the kids were looking around anxiously, making themselves small, etc.

Me, when Little #27 called Joris "master" and my boy immediately shut that down because there was no way Joris Jurgen, first of his name, was EVER going to be associated with that child abuser or let those kids think for a second that they'd ever have to fear him. You drop this, King 👑

...only to remember his title is literally "Master Joris" (Maître Joris, in the French version).

I know it's not the same, but it's still a bit funny if not ironic, especially with how Joris turned up in Waven.

Well, this looks like the beginning of found family wholesomeness with Little #27 hero-worshipping Joris and #13 (Linot) looking ready to take on the world! So much hope!

...until Tot and co remind everyone this webtoon is rated MA for "Mostly Angst".

Here come Yugo and my beloved Amalia, ominously sitting in the dark like some emo kids. One Adamai is one emo too many.

That accidental eyeliner carried Season 4! 🤣

Look at Yugo! Those bags under his eyes look so deep Amalia's closet could fit in them. That belladonna poison really did a number on him.

Random, but tell me why Yugo looked a bit like :

I don't think Yugo is angry or suspicious of Joris, his long-time ally. Instead, I believe the Eliatrope went to his friend for intel on Rasalar and possibly to brainstorm how to bypass the dragon's ultimatum with the person who knows this new enemy the best : Joris.

Indeed, Joris was the guardian of the Ebony Dofus with Rasalar possessing his body since infancy. Their "partnership" lasted for a while before the two separated. According to the lore, it was because their visions no longer aligned, but the webtoon has yet to mention this bit.

On a side note, Wakfu is really light on the nobility protocol thing.

This mission is a delicate matter, maybe even a State secret now, but why didn't the only two acting royals of the Sadida and Eliatrope kingdom(s) stay home and discreetly call for Joris instead ? Yumalia is out there all the time like their kingdom is not on fire !

There are still some pressing issues outside a mewing reptile threatening bodily harm. What of the aftermath of a king getting poisoned during a mixed wedding? What happened with a queen who fought against and kicked out a foreign monarch and the consort of late King Armand (allegedly pregnant with an heir to the Sadida throne)? What of the growing tensions between the cohabiting Sadidas and Eliatropes?

Don't Yugo and Amalia have anyone trustworthy and useful among their people? An envoy to contact Joris? Anyone but two high-profile royals coming incognito (I hope it was incognito) to a small shop in Bonta, the City whose queen was extremely wary of anything Eliatrope ?

What about Adamaï? Did he leave to find help elsewhere? I hope he didn't just hop and leave after chapter 13 like...

That why I really wished Amalia had more ties to her kingdom. Apart from her now dead family and those two eunuchs, Amalia doesn't seem to have anyone close to her. A Sadida princess with only one friend, a Cra who used to be a bodyguard and now lives peacefully far away from the Sadida kingdom ? So many people, yet there's no other noble or commoner to befriend apart from Evangeline ? Even during the years they were apart? I know the whole "it's lonely at the top" but come on!

Yugo is no better, but he has the excuse of not being among his people for most of his life.

*Sigh* I have never seen (fictional) key political figures doing so much to get out of their kingdom. It's not even funny any more! It feels like Amalia and Yugo are doing everything but rule their kingdom.

Seriously, it's great that Wakfu is not really a typical political fiction, because Yumalia would have been out of a crown with a quickness with all their mess 🤣

The chapter concludes with the dark look on Yugo's face as more key players enter the fray.

Next chapter will be out on 28th February, so stay tuned!

You can still participate in the Kickstarter for Wakfu Season 5. Click HERE or use this link : http://kck.st/41aL7R8 until 12th March 2025.

[fanfic-obsessed]

Hi! Hope your August is off to a good start. Could I send a prompt for Talk Shop Tuesday?

Feel free to ignore the prompt if not!

Some or Several of the trainers look at the babies with their alor's face that said alor wants them to train for a war and go "we think the fuck not.

@somestorythoughts Sorry I did not answer yesterday, it took me a bit to get my thoughts in order for this.

Look there is never a bad time for me to receive a prompt,  a question, or a random message.  It brings me great joy.

Now For the Prompt:

Some or Several of the trainers look at the babies with their alor's face that said alor wants them to train for a war and go "we think the fuck not.

My first thought, before anything, is that Mij is the ringleader. There is no doubt that the medics would be the ones to spearhead this and Mij, of all of them, best remembers both Jaster and little Jango.

I also think that the medics do not really know what the babies are really there for at first. If we think about the Psychology of Jango Fett- Orphaned twice over, a leader too early, the death of his people (that he 100% will not face is partly his own fault-as he shot first) and his own enslavement, semi forced addiction to Spice from the aforementioned enslavement. While none of these things makes Jango evil, they do make him a bit broken. I do believe that in this one he is lying to everyone. 

He is telling the Kaminoans that he is training what will be the GAR (it does not matter if they know the full plot or not, Jango thinks they don’t). He is telling Dooku that he is honing the clones into a weakness for the republic and a wake up call for the Jedi while knowing Sidious’s actual plan for the clones. Of the trainers, he is telling some that the clones will be a trap for the Jedi, others that they will be getting some enormous payment, while telling still others (like Mij) that he is planning to steal the clones to rebuild the True Mandalorians, assuring the interested groups that he is working for the best of Mandalore. 

Most of all Jango is telling himself that he has not become worse than any of the crimes committed against him. 

It is all lies. 

For the first year, this house of cards remains standing. Jango has convinced most of the groups he is lying to that he is lying to everyone but them. Not that all of them care, but some do.  

It is such a small thing, in the grand scheme of things, that tips Mij off. Jango has managed to explain away the numbers (to give the clones a chance to name themselves), the lack of armor (that much armor is expensive), and other such discrepancies as necessities for ‘tricking’ their employer. 

It starts with a single look. A microexpression when Mij asks Jango to hold the toddler A-17 during a routine check. Disgust. It stuck in Mij’s mind all the harder, as he had just witnessed Jango with Boba not 10 minutes prior. 

Mij started to, discreetly, poke around. It takes him all of a week to find the chips. The slave chips embedded in the heads of babies. The babies with Jango’s face and slave chips in their heads. 

Mij has made an error. Mij.exe is also experiencing an error.

Everything is an error. 

Now Mij has a choice, and both those choices involve breaking a vow he swore so many years ago to Jaster Mereel, and later to Jango Fett. He could choose ignorance, and follow his Alor, convince himself there is a good reason for what he is seeing; pretend that there is any good reason for slave chips. And thus dooming untold children, untold babies, breaking his moral code irrevocably. Or he could choose the babies, could undermine his Alor, betray the trust that Jango had in him. Be one more person to abandon Jango, the boy that Jaster had adopted and loved. 

The choice was not an easy one, and it hurt. It hurt worse at how careful he had to be, gathering allies. The remnants of the True Mandalorians were bound by trauma and shared hell. It was excruciating, having to keep secrets, but Mij knew that not everyone would make the choice he had. Not everyone would choose the babies. He could not begrudge them, but he could not trust them either.

It took another month of wrestling with their choices before Mij and his allies, 14 other former True Mandalorians, came to a decision.  There were not enough of them to wrest control of Kamino, not enough to take the 10s of thousands of babies away and keep them safe. They debated going to the Jedi, having realized that the Jedi ordering the Clones was just another lie, but the Jedi were bound to the Republic. They could not protect or free the babies. 

There is only one group that could, politically, if not physically. One that Mij did not want to go anywhere near. Knew that he would have to give up what made him Mandalorian; that he would have to give up the Mandalore Jaster Mereel had envisioned.  By the end of the month, all 15 were in agreement that there was no other way.  

Though it took time, and careful planning, Mij makes sure to be holding a now toddler A17 when his call finally connects to Satine Kryze. He can feel her gaze slip to the baby in his arms as he pleads his case to the Duchess of the New Mandalorians. As he agrees to whatever hoops she wants them to jump through, if it would mean that the children are safe and loved. 

His Ancestors who marched ahead would be angry that he would give up their culture, but they would despise him for abandoning the babies to their fate.

[tragedybunny]

༺A Golden Moment༻

༺Summary༻

Astarion shares a tender moment with Aristen, his beloved Bhaalspawn, and contemplates the future

༺Pairing༻ Astarion x Aristen (Female Durge / OC)

༺Warnings༻ None

༺Word Count༻ 1018

༺A/N༻ Thanks to @icybluepenguin for the beta, as always my creative partner. This fic is for @aristenfromwarsaw as a thank you for the lovely photos she did for me of Serafina and Astarion. Aristen is her wonderful Durge. Thank you again!

“She doesn’t look like murder,” Astarion thinks to himself as he watches the elf run her fingers through the water in the fountain outside of Sorcerous Sundries.

Aristen then laughs and flicks some of the water playfully at the tiefling child she was bantering with. One of the brood from the Grove they had run across in the city, Astarion can’t remember a name, only the idol thief, Arabella and Mol, the ringleader, really stood out to him. 

“She looks like a hopeless do-good type, an aspiring hero.” It makes his stomach clench almost instinctively. 

For Astarion, there’s only two types of interactions with heroes, being forgotten by them to languish in hell for centuries or possibly being hunted by them for being what he is. 

But Aristen is different. 

The tiefling child laughs and flicks water back at her. The droplets in her pale hair sparkle in the sunlight like gemstones. It’s idyllic, the sun, the laughter, the warmth of the day seeping into his skin. 

Aristen is not like other people who would call themselves heroes and put on a display of the good they want to do. She’s different because she has seen real darkness. 

Even after her true nature as a Bhaalspawn had been revealed, she kept going on, trying to do the right thing. She pushed so hard, she made Bhaal himself try to take her life.

Astarion shudders involuntarily thinking of that moment. He'd stood there speechless, numb to the world, terrified to grasp what he'd just lost. If it hadn't been for Withers, or whoever he actually was, that may have been the end. 

The sun is starting on its downward path and the tiefling child waves farewell to Aristen before running off with his friends. For a moment, she stares after them wistfully and he wonders why. 

Perhaps they remind her of the simpler life she wanted, the life she thought she would have when she came to the city. The life that was all a lie. 

Or perhaps she is fearful of what could happen to them. The group will move on Gortash soon, and the confrontation with the brain isn't far from that. 

Those blue eyes suddenly turn his way. “What are you staring at Astarion?” 

He feels caught somehow, like he's almost embarrassed to have been seen contemplating her. 

“Nothing, just thinking about how delectable you look.” He smiles, trying to convince her. 

“Is that so?” She gestures to the spot on the edge of the fountain next to her, returning his smile with a knowing one of her own. 

He scoots closer to her and loops his arm around her, feeling her sun-warmed skin beneath his fingers. “But of course, my sweet. Would I ever lie to you?”

“I can think of a few times when you did,” she teases him and snuggles closer to him.  

“That has been awhile,” he insists with exaggerated hurt at the teasing. 

“Astarion, you’re playing far too innocent.” Her sweet smile hides her intentions as her fingers dip back into the fountain and she splashes him with the cold water. 

There isn’t anyone else who he would allow this from, but Aristen is different. 

“My curls, you wretch!” He lets go of her for a moment to defend himself, putting his hands in front of the watery onslaught, as the two of them both begin to laugh. 

It feels good to laugh. After everything they've been through and what was still to come, they need it. 

Gradually, it dies away and he puts his arm back around her, pulling her close. 

“What was it really, that you were thinking about?” She lays her head on his shoulder and looks back off toward the horizon. 

He’s not even sure why he’s keeping quiet, she’s seen the worst of him, what else is there to be embarrassed about? 

“Everything- the past, the future. What all of this will ultimately mean, what will our lives be from after - well after it.” He can’t quite get himself to describe what they still have to do, the grim possible outcomes weighing his tongue down. 

“That is a lot to be thinking about. Was there anything you wanted to say in particular?” 

He isn’t sure they have the time right now for all that he wants to say. He hums indecisively. “I suppose if I’m facing the end of the world, I’m glad it’s with you. And whatever comes after too.” 

“You’re too sweet, love” she says, tilting her head up to kiss his cheek. 

The square around them gradually grows quiet as shops close for the day and the crowds head home. Astarion knows from dreadful experience that other businesses are just beginning to get busy, the taverns and brothels of Baldur’s Gate will soon fill with patrons. On past nights with such mild weather, hunting would have been easy, so many targets to choose from, he might even be able to dally a bit and remain away from both Cazador and his potential victims. 

They should move on, the rest of their group is probably wondering where they are by now. But the peace of the moment is like an enchantment, one word and it all could slip away like the ephemeral strands of the Weave that Gale is always going on about. And it is so nice to watch the night fall without the dread of Cazador or Bhaal looming over them. 

“We should probably get back,” Aristen finally breaks the magical silence and the world comes back into sharp focus for him. 

“Hmm, I suppose we can’t let everyone go too long without us. Who knows what trouble they could get themselves into.” 

Astarion reluctantly lets go of her and rises from the cooling stone of the fountain. He extends a hand, the very picture of gallant chivalry, to help her up. The blue of the sky is fading into pinks and purples, colors he may not ever see again soon. But he has today, they have today. 

Arm in arm, they walk back to the Elfsong, one day closer to destiny. 

[dirkspanelcollection]

all pages of pozzol broyer from vast error.... (pwetty pweaseeeee🥺🥺🥺🥺) (you dont know who i am) (please...)

i know who you are edo...... i was gonna do this anyways but since you asked so nicely /j

EVERY PAGE POZZOL BROYER FROM VAST ERROR IS IN

plus dialogue

PART ONE

from page 936

from page 937

from page 947

ELLSEE: ThΣrΣ's no anglΣs¡¡¡¡ Just thΣ full honΣst truth¡¡¡¡¡¡ELLSEE: I don't ΣvΣn know what a liΣ is¡¡¡¡¡¡ELLSEE: WΣ abolishΣd thosΣ¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡ ThΣy'rΣ illΣgal now¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡ POZZOL: abolished EH?POZZOL: begging THE pardon OF my INHOSPITABLE intrusionPOZZOL: BUT my POSSE and I have BEEN told DIFFERENTLY

from page 948

ELLSEE: Oh¡¡¡¡ Loving thΣ... sΣvΣrΣd hand¡¡¡¡ Stylish¡¡¡¡¡¡ELLSEE: ΣxtrΣmΣly chic, rΣally cool. POZZOL: went OUT and EARNED it MYSELF in THE name OF the RAWED brothers DOCTRINE

POZZOL: a TROPHY of MY victory AGAINST these SOCIETAL injustices THE unnurtured TRY and STUFF down OUR crusty HAMHOLES

POZZOL: but IT doesnt MEAN too MUCH to ME if YOURE speaking SOME hard TRUTHS or NOT ELLSEE: Right¡¡¡¡ I'm surΣ you havΣ your rΣasons for your... viΣwpoints. POZZOL: so IF abolishment IS on THE two ABOVES table

POZZOL: WHY dont YOU take THIS sweet TIME you HAVE with US to UNPUZZLE a FEW of OUR maddened INQUIRIES about IT ELLSEE: Y-yΣah¡¡¡¡ SurΣ¡¡¡¡¡¡¡¡ELLSEE: What kind of quΣstions do you havΣ¿¿¿¿ POZZOL: if I were TO ask ONE thing

POZZOL: AND only ONE thing

POZZOL: WELL

POZZOL: i FEEL as THOUGH i SPEAK for THE entire CREED of MY age OLD mirthamaniac HEELS and FACES when I pose ON you THIS

----

POZZOL: whats IT gonna LOOK like

POZZOL: WHEN you BLEED

from page 949

---

from page 1023

TALALD: wowie zowie!!!!!!!!!!! that whole thing was exhilarating!!!! POZZOL: well I suppose WHEN youre RIGHT you TEND to BE right MISSUS dirty CLAY

from page 1024

TALALD: i cant believe it!!!!!! this is all really working!!!!!! i mean i knew it was going to work but the fact that its still working puts me in stitches!!!! TALALD: i didnt even know what ed meant by reconnaissanceing the stronghold until now, but we should definitely do it again sometime if these are the results!!!!!

POZZOL: and WHAT results THEY decided TO be

POZZOL: FOR a CHANGE i THINK you GOT more THAN one REASON to BE a LITTLE boisterous OVER something TALALD: and youre just happy we had steamed hams in the city and you got to smash that one red guys face into the counter and take his hand arent you????? POZZOL: HE got MY triple DECKER order FENANGLED all OVER the PLACEPOZZOL: was THE only FAIR trade OFF if YOURE asking ME TALALD: he didnt work there though!!!! our food materializes through the power of automated paste science thingies!!!! thats what the sign said :ooo POZZOL: surprised YOU remembered EVEN that MUCH of THE picture

POZZOL: BUT it AINT like WE didnt GET granted A fast PASS out OF the GREASEPAN on BOTH occasions

POZZOL: MADE me EXPEL a FEW wasted GRACES on OUR sour LIFEBOUND soulfriend BUT i NEVER once DOUBTED your EXCEPTIONAL guesstimation SKILLS

POZZOL: least NOW shes GOT something TO chew ON until OUR joint PROPHECY gnaws AT her TALALD: big als real good at keeping things in check!!! TALALD: wed have been pancaked just like that guys face if he hadnt zooped us out of there!!! heehee!!!!!! POZZOL: WHY dont YOU go ON and TAKE your VERBAL jingle OVER yonder TO ring THEM in FOR us TALALD: are we really good??? did we really really really really really make it without tripping in our skipping?!?!?!?! POZZOL: SEEMS more THAN solid WERE you TO be GETTING my SENSE of IT all

from page 1025

POZZOL: LETS bring ON the CAVALRY

from page 1032

NEILNA: |yo|ringleader| POZZOL: lay IT on ME strongarm

---

POZZOL: looks LIKE she PUT up QUITE the SCUFFLE amongst YOU KEIKSI: She doesn't re@lly listen to re@son, sir!! KEIKSI: I me@n, you told us th@t if she disobeys we should pin her down... right? @A@ POZZOL: i SUPPOSE that WAS indeed THE case WASNT it

POZZOL: QUITE the TASK to ASK of YOU two ALL things CONSIDERING

POZZOL: now BACK to YOUR stations BOTH of YOU

POZZOL: i WANT all ENTRANCES on FULL lockdown FOR this ONE you HEAR

POZZOL: if I find ANOTHER regulator HIDING in WAIT to LET more MATCH picks LOOSE then ITS bound TO be YOU and ME after THE juniors BOUT NEILNA: |what about|her boss| POZZOL: she AINT your FUCKING problem

POZZOL: THIS is ON me NEILNA: |aight then|we'll bounce|

from page 1034

---

from page 1035

POZZOL: YOU got DRY eyes THIS time YOUNGBLOOD

POZZOL: guess YOU know BETTER by NOW

POZZOL: or MAYBE you ONLY understand WHAT pains TAUGHT you TO avoid

from page 1036

POZZOL: SO why DONT you TELL me

POZZOL: TO what ENDS do YOU believe THAT running DOES your HIDE any GOOD here

POZZOL: YOU cant BE thinking THAT youd JUST scurry ON up AND leave US TAZ: ~...~ POZZOL: GUESS you DONT gotta SAY much EITHER way

POZZOL: THERE aint NO marks OF tears STAINING your CHEEKS but TO me THERES a BLEMISH much MORE investing TO witness

POZZOL: THE way YOU hide THE active BLESSING she GRACED you WITH

POZZOL: shame STILL radiates OFF you LIKE a FESTERING ailment YOU cant SHAKE

POZZOL: the SIGIL of THE fortmistress WEIGHS heavy DONT it TAZ: ~please jus+ le+ me go.~

from page 1037

POZZOL: you REALLY think THERES anything WAITING for YOU out THERE kid?

POZZOL: THAT eventually SOMEONE is GONNA end UP dropping WHAT theyre DOING just FOR your SAKE? because THEY think THEY know WHO you ARE?

POZZOL: feel THAT theyll EVER cheer YOUR name THE same WAY we DO in HERE?

POZZOL: there AINT nothing UNCONDITIONAL like THAT beyond THESE here RINGS freshmeat

from page 1038

POZZOL: YOURE only ACCEPTED so LONG as YOURE placated AND restrained POZZOL: YOU were NOT made FOR them POZZOL: THE bountiful AND the UNGRATEFUL POZZOL: you DONT fit THIS carbon COPY mold THE folks UP in THE big TOP wanted YOU squeezed IN from THE second YOU popped OUTTA the REDUPLICATOR POZZOL: the FORTMISTRESS? she ENSURED you HAD a PLACE where YOU belonged POZZOL: SHE handcrafted YOUR name AND made DAMN sure YOU had SOMEPLACE to GO POZZOL: lotta GOOD people INCLUDING myself MADE sure HER will WAS carried OUT POZZOL: if THEY hadnt GIVEN you OVER we WOULDVE laid WASTE to THAT faux SHELTER they THINK amasses ANYTHING close TO the UTOPIA this PLANET used TO be POZZOL: ALL for HER word POZZOL: ALL for YOU tazsia POZZOL: YOURE this WORLDS heel POZZOL: THE folks WANDERING about OUT there WITH their THINKSTUBS so FAR up THEIR own BACKEND wont SEE who YOU really ARE POZZOL: they CANT comprehend YOUR purpose AND they SHOULDNT try TO POZZOL: you WERE made TO be FEARED POZZOL: so WHY are YOU so AFRAID of WHO you REALLY are? POZZOL: ANSWER that FOR me WHENEVER you FIGURE it OUT POZZOL: and DONT worry POZZOL: IM a PATIENT man TAZ: ~...~

from page 1039

POZZOL: FOR now YOU have A gauntlet TO run THROUGH POZZOL: easy PICKINGS for THE fortraiser TO be POZZOL: YKNOW i REALLY dont LIKE to INFLATE the WHOLE situation POZZOL: BUT youre ACTUALLY so FUCKING lucky POZZOL: THERE was A life PLAN set OUT for YOU from THE start POZZOL: YOU didnt EVEN have TO figure OUT the TRUTH on YOUR lonesome POZZOL: WISH i HAD a SITUATION like YOURS growing UP POZZOL: took ME far TOO long TO get IT POZZOL: deadlock LAID the GROUNDWORK all DOWN for YOU to RISE up POZZOL: FOLLOW the RIGHT steps AND wipe SOME nasty LOWBLOODED soul SAP off YOUR face POZZOL: AND you GOT it MADE POZZOL: loyalty TO the CAUSE is ALL it TAKES POZZOL: you SHOULD be HAPPY TAZ: ~wha+ if i don+ wan+ +o be~ POZZOL: begging YOUR illmade PARDON TAZ: ~wha+ if +his isn+ wha+ i wan+~ TAZ: ~wha+ if i +ry +o run again~ POZZOL: then THATS gonna BE your PROBLEM POZZOL: ive BEEN very UNDERSTANDING so FAR tazsia POZZOL: BUT you REALLY think THIS is ABOUT what YOU want INSTEAD of WHAT this PLACE needs? POZZOL: YOUR ancestor FIGURED that SHIT out BECAUSE she HAD people LIKE me AROUND her TO keep EVERYONE in LINE POZZOL: and IF you KEEP this LITTLE rebellious STREAK of YOURS up AND going FOR very LONG POZZOL: if YOU dare TO defy HER wishes

from page 1040

POZZOL: THEN you CAN expect TO have SOME goddamn SENSE beaten INTO you REAL quick

POZZOL: OR youre GONNA die A disappointment

POZZOL: EITHER way IS fine BY me

from page 1050

POZZOL: its RARE form TO see YOU so LOST in THOUGHT during THE sport

POZZOL: MAKES one WONDER if YOUR heart IS really INTO all THE carnage VILCUS

from page 1051

VILCUS: 〈« far as i'm concerned, our hearts have always been in different places. »〉

POZZOL: befitting OF an ELDER brother

POZZOL: LESS so OF a CURRENT speaker

VILCUS: 〈« you're sayin' that as though you'd ever let me speak as i pleased. »〉

POZZOL: IT does US all A load OF good WHEN you STICK to THE assigned SCRIPT

POZZOL: as ONE might BE able TO misconstrue INTENTIONS otherwise

POZZOL: MY thoughts ON the MATTER are IMPARTIAL

VILCUS: 〈« so i've heard. »〉

POZZOL: and SO youd HEAR even BETTER if YOU bit YOUR tongue WHEN necessary

VILCUS: 〈« 'nd what's your angle with that, then? »〉

POZZOL: A simple SMATTERING of INTRIGUE sauced UP with A little EXTRA musing

POZZOL: VAGUELY wondering AS to WHAT exactly MIGHT not HAVE interested YOU in TONIGHTS set

POZZOL: SOME of THESE small BLESSINGS are GOING to BECOME genuine ARTICLES within THE next COUPLE of SWEEPS

POZZOL: the LITTLE poemme PERFORMED admirably AND snagged MORE than A fistful OF trophies

POZZOL: AND yet WHEN you LOOK at HER your VOICE rings HOLLOW

POZZOL: even AS the CROWD bursts WITH the ADRENALINE you SHOOT up INTO their SPIRITS

POZZOL: whenever YOUR eyes LAND on HER i CAN feel THE chucklevoodoo FADING

POZZOL: why IS that

from page 1052

---

POZZOL: SECRETS only EVER last FOR so LONG vilcus POZZOL: YOURS lasted A healthy TWO sweeps POZZOL: IT impresses ME still POZZOL: I wonder WHAT it WAS that YOU told HER POZZOL: what YOU pawned OFF under YOUR two-faced GUISE of TRUTH POZZOL: in FULL honesty AT first MY instinct WASNT to PUNISH you POZZOL: IT was SIMPLY to FIND out WHY from HER POZZOL: why TO this DAY she STILLS feels THAT others WILL liberate HER

from page 1059

---

from page 1060

POZZOL: but THEN i DID a LITTLE digging

POZZOL: AND it CHANGED my PERSPECTIVE

POZZOL: granted THAT in THE end A day LIKE this WAS always BOUND to COME

POZZOL: i NOTICED you WERE lacking WILL from THE moment I stepped UNDER the RIGID carny TEETH that WELCOMES us ALL

POZZOL: and IT aint LIKE its HER fault THAT you GAVE her IDEAS which FURTHER warped HER already DENTED sensibilities

POZZOL: THAT she COULD ever FIND common GROUND with SOME garish OFF shade OF bronze

POZZOL: BUT it TURNS out THAT you WERE never REALLY all TALK all THE time WITH no BITE like I once THOUGHT

POZZOL: you REALLY believed EVERY single WORD that YOU said DIDNT you

POZZOL: AND not ONLY that

POZZOL: YOU carried IT out IN practice

POZZOL: RENEWING your SKIN vows WITH a RUSTIE who NEVER even KNEW your TRUE squandered COLORS

POZZOL: shouldve SEEN the LOOK on HIS face WHEN we BUSTED down THE door

POZZOL: THE sweat AND tears POURING down HIS cheeks

POZZOL: THE way HIS heart ALMOST burst

POZZOL: BEFORE i BURST his CHEST open FOR him VILCUS: 〈« FUCK YOU. »〉 POZZOL: I want TO remember THIS

POZZOL: and I want YOU to REMEMBER it TOO VILCUS: 〈« SO, WHAT? I COMMIT THIS "SIN" YOU FIND SO EGREGIOUS AND YOU WON'T EVEN FUCKING KILL ME LIKE I KNOW YOU'VE ALWAYS WANTED? »〉 VILCUS: 〈« YOU FUCKING COWARD. »〉 POZZOL: i DONT need TO do ANYTHING

POZZOL: by THE time YOU step OUT of HERE

POZZOL: their BLOOD and YOUR face WILL be DOING all OF the TALKING for ME

POZZOL: the OTHERS will DECIDE your FATE past THAT

POZZOL: its OF no CONSEQUENCE to ME

POZZOL: ive ALREADY relished IN the SMALL drops OF satisfaction YOU allowed ME to HAVE during OUR acquaintance

from page 1061

POZZOL: IF only MOMENTS like THESE lasted A little LONGERPOZZOL: right BROTHER?

from page 1065

POZZOL: IM genuinely IMPRESSED with YOUR drive TO act IN this SITUATION

POZZOL: to COME to ME after WHATS all SAID and DONE

POZZOL: announcing THAT youre WILLING to TAKE on EVERYTHING theyve SO distastefully ACCRUED in THEIR stead

POZZOL: TO be FEELING that THIS is A burden I would LET you BEAR just BECAUSE you MADE some GRAND gesture OF ill FITTED loyalty TAZ: ~I+'s a par+ of +he code.~ TAZ: ~You +augh+ me how +his works.~ TAZ: ~+he only way +o absolve +he sins of one associa+ed wi+h +he dark congrega+ion is +o wash i+ away in blood.~ TAZ: ~Be i+ in a +ransferral of +heir vice or in +heir dea+h.~ TAZ: ~+ha+'s +he only way you can be freed from +his place.~ TAZ: ~And +hey're gone.~ TAZ: ~+heir blood is lingering on my fucking skin.~ TAZ: ~+ha+'s +he impuri+y you feel so s+rongly abou+.~ TAZ: ~Bu+ i+'s MINE now.~ TAZ: ~+hose are +he rules.~ POZZOL: LEMME go AHEAD and TELL you SOMETHING for POSTERITY

POZZOL: the THING about RULES is THAT they AINT what SOME would CALL ironclad

POZZOL: RULES only STAY in PLACE as LONG as THERES a SILENT majority WILLING to FOLLOW them

POZZOL: OR someone UPTOP whos INVESTED in PRACTICING a BOUT of ENFORCING

POZZOL: you FOLLOWING?

POZZOL: ill GIVE it THAT you GOT a WIDE set OF pheromonal SACKS to STEP up TO me AND try TO sell A couple CRISPY licks IN my DIRECTION

POZZOL: got ME to LISTEN to SOMETHING i REALLY have NO business IN hearing OUT

POZZOL: the WHOLE ordeal IS veryPOZZOL: CUTE

POZZOL: for LACKING in OTHER words TO describe HOW this IS all SHAKING down RIGHT in FRONT of MY eyesPOZZOL: BUT the ONLY thing KEEPING me AWAY from YOU

POZZOL: from THEM

POZZOL: and FROM your LITTLE bronzeblooded BOYTOY

POZZOL: is MY own RESTRAINT

POZZOL: i RESPECT the FACT that YOU actually FELT strongly ABOUT something FOR once AND stood YOUR ground THOUGH

POZZOL: and WITH such CREATIVITY tooPOZZOL: SO alrightPOZZOL: IF you WANNA talk RULES

POZZOL: lets SET a FEW up AS a BASELINE

from page 1066

POZZOL: you WANNA get OUT of HERE so BAD?

POZZOL: then YOU earn IT like EVERYONE else

POZZOL: YOU go PRO

POZZOL: when WE call YOU come RUNNING

POZZOL: when WE say JUMP you ASK on WHOS head

POZZOL: WHEN we GIVE you SOME poor FUCK we WANT gone FROM this PLANET you DISPOSE of THEM TAZ: ~So...~ TAZ: ~every+hing I've already been doing, +hen?~ TAZ: ~If +his is a deal, I don'+ really unders+and wha+ you ge+ ou+ of i+.~ POZZOL: i DONT always HAVE to GET something MATERIAL to FEEL content IN my ACTIONS

POZZOL: sometimes THE knowledge OF the SITUATION is ENOUGH to KEEP ones INTEREST alivePOZZOL: AND i LIKE knowing THAT even WHEN youre OUT of SIGHT

POZZOL: you STILL belong HERE TAZ: ~Are +hose your only +erms?~ TAZ: ~You won'+ do any+hing else so long as I'm s+ill chained +o +he sec+?~ POZZOL: i SHOULDNT have TO do ANYTHING else

POZZOL: BECAUSE what ALL of THIS shows ME

POZZOL: is WHAT makes YOU scaredPOZZOL: WHAT keeps YOU from YOUR true POTENTIAL

POZZOL: your HEATHEN mentor ACTUALLY taught ME a LITTLE something TOO over THE course OF all THIS insubordination AND tall TALK

POZZOL: its THAT whenever YOU think SOMETHING can LAST forever

POZZOL: IT always ENDS up RUINED by THOSE who WANT it THE most

POZZOL: SO why ARE you SO willing TO fight FOR that?

from page 1530

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POZZOL: what I would LIKE to BE getting IS your REPORT on THE situation

POZZOL: HOW did YOU tango WITH that MEGAPHONE mouthed MUTANTBLOOD TALALD: i did just what you asked!!! TALALD: sure enough my lil bopper has put him to rest!!! TALALD: he's going to be sleeping like a little grub swaddled in osmosis goo!!! TALALD: all nice and tuckered out :))) POZZOL: youPOZZOL: WERE supposed TO kill HIM TALALD: huh????? POZZOL: bitch AM i RIGHT up AND standing BEFORE you WRITING out VOCAL passages IN pretext

POZZOL: I told YOU to FUCKING slaughter HIM TALALD: hmmmmmm nope! i dont think you did!! TALALD: i think i would have known what you meant if you were using a secret code!!! im the one who actually memorized the signals yknow pozzy puff! TALALD: tap means bitty bopper! rest means lil bopper! play means big bopper! TALALD: kill isnt even a real word probably!!! TALALD: you and your crew have such a weird way of talking about really simple stuff!

from page 1533

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[thoughpoppiesblow]

For Audrey -- “what they said back there. is it true?” + delight + at work, far later than you should be? 😊

hi killy! thank you so much for the ask :) oi had a lot of fun with this one!

John sighed, and let his head drop between his shoulder blades. His desk light glowed brightly beyond his closed eyes, and he groaned. Everyone else was gone for the day, and there had been no word of a mission tomorrow. They were expecting their Air Exec, their ringleader, to come out to the Officer’s Club and raise a little hell. Bucky groaned again, glad that no one was around to hear him. 

Three weeks ago, his life had been fucking fantastic. Drinks, dances, dames, and not a worry under the goddamn sun. Now, he had boys watching him every hour, waiting for a sign of what to do. Watching him, watching Bucky with the sheepskin jacket, watching Major Egan the Air Exec. They watched, and John performed, and sometimes he couldn’t tell what was real and what wasn’t.

“Major Egan?” a smooth voice called. John’s head jerked up, and he started trying to tame his unruly curls. He then gave his uniform a once-over - his tie was crooked again, even though Gale had straightened it before he went off to dinner with Benny. John sighed harshly through his nose, and the voice sang out again.

“It’s Audrey, Major,” she said. “No one dangerous.”

John chuckled and peered towards the door. “Oh, I bet you’re plenty dangerous, Audrey. Come on in, sit down,” John said. Audrey rounded the corner wearing her typical blouse and dark wool trousers, with her blonde hair tucked up neatly.

“Thank you, Major, but I’m not staying. I’m on my way back to the barracks, actually. I have some letters to answer.”

John nodded, feeling his eyes glaze over. Letters, like the ones he still had to write. He felt another sigh brewing.

Audrey moved closer, the lamplight catching on her cheeks. “I told Major Cleven I’d look in on you,” she said, smiling conspiratorially at him. “He said you missed dinner.”

John let the sigh fall. “What else is Buck saying?”

“Nothing,” Audrey said. “Because it doesn’t take a genius to tell that you ought to take a break.”

John rolled his eyes, letting his stress fester. “And what? Go see Benny’s damn dog or some shit?” As soon as he finished speaking, he cringed. Audrey was one of those least deserving of his wrath, of anyone’s wrath for that matter. But she stood firm.

“What, you think I’ve never taken an attitude before?” she said with a raised brow. “I’m from the exact same Philadelphia as Benny DeMarco, Major. And his dog’s name is Meatball, remember?”

“He told you?”

“Nora did,” said Audrey with a laugh. “She won’t stop fawning over them - Benny and his dog.”

John let out a matching laugh, getting swept along in Audrey’s delightful distraction. She knew she couldn’t convince him to up and leave, but that probably wasn’t her goal. Just a change, a momentary reprieve, a stay of execution. And God, it was helping. She was more than people gave her credit for, Audrey Morris was.

“Thanks for coming, Audrey,” John said softly. “I mean it.”

“I know,” she said simply.

John smiled at her. More than people gave her credit for, that was for damn sure. John let the silence linger, and his voice was even quieter the next time he spoke.

“And it’s true, right? What Buck said to you, back there?”

Audrey sighed and smiled at him. “Of course it’s true. People don’t always worry because they’re angry. They worry out of care, and out of love. And it doesn’t take a genius to see that you and Major Cleven are like brothers and that you care and worry like brothers, too.”

John smiled back at her, overwhelmed. “Thank you,” he said.

“You’re welcome.”

[mad-salesman]

An excerpt from the Book of Death

The complete annals of the cult of The One Who Waits, this entry by Brean, annalist and chief advisor

58th day of summer, year 83

A visitor approached the cult grounds today, an eagle who gave no real name, calling himself only "Lookout". Presumably, it's his position aboard the ship on which he sails. I invited him to share lunch and asked, as I often do of travelers, to tell me something of the world away from the Heretic's Coast. He told me a tale of a place across the sea, and I chose to record his words verbatim, and set them down here.

Sail a day south from the old lighthouse near here, then turn to meet the rising sun. East across the open water for 8 or 9 days will bring you to a rocky coast. Now, if ya meet that coastline and follow it south for a bit, all depending on how the winds have pushed you about, but perhaps a day's journey, you'll find a city goes by the name of Kolo Mala. The folk there are a weird bunch. Hardly an honest creature like you or I to be found. LIke skinny gorillas without all the hair they are, and less slump to the shoulders and back. I've only sailed under one captain brave enough to anchor there, and we were told to be on our best behavior and stay near to the docks. There's a couple of taverns that allow "our kind", and it seemed to me that's where most of their gold came from. The tavern keeper there tells me that the folk call themselves tangata, "humans", but folk like us get called manukaina. Now he translated the word as "beastkin", but I got the impression that was the polite version. Anyway, he tells me that the folk there believe we're humans that were cursed by their gods to be like wild creatures, and they keep us as slaves. There in Kolo Mala, there's a big arena where the rich folk go to watch us manukaina be made to fight each other, or fight mosters. Tells me he doesn't believe in it, but there ain't a thing he can do save run his tavern and keep those of us that land in the port safe. So you can imagine how I paid for my drink and spent the rest of my time there aboard. I can't tell you how pleased I was to see that place fade into the horizon.

Lookout wasn't able to tell me much more of these "humans" or their culture, but shared a snippet of a legend that the tavern keeper related to him that I found quite interesting.

So this barman tells me that the folk there treat us beastkin real rough, 'cause sometime way back when, there was some sort of rebellion. Seems a bunch of the slaves they made fight in the arena got tired of playing the game and took the fight to the folk of the city. Carved their way to the docks, freein' every slave along the way. The ringleaders, just 6 of them left by then he said, led all the slaves onto a couple of ships. Tore the crews apart and left their bodies in the bay he said. Seems no word of those ships was ever had in Kolo Mala again, but they still remember those 6 as the manutau. Legend goes that if these manutau ever return, the waters will rise and reclaim the land under the city, or some such madness.

[bonefall]

Ooh ooh ooh Do you think you could do a masterpost for Dishonor and Honor titles? As well as maybe renames/the general Meaning and etiquette around names?

Yeah I really need to sit down and do that. You should know me by now though, brain goes 200 MPH and picks a random thing to focus on!

I'll slap down a casual list though just of everything I remember

HONOR TITLES:

Daylight -> Clawface Given by Brokenstar after a really bloody battle to boost Clan morale. One Clawface wanted because he didn't like his 'poetic' old name and wanted to sound cool and strong.

Meltpelt -> Ratscar Given by Brokenstar for surviving being buried in rats at Carrionplace. Broken was fond of honor titles.

Leafstripe -> Leafpool For discovering the Moonpool

Lizardtail -> Hallowflight For heroics during the Great Battle, running a marathon to fetch help and betraying the Dark Forest

Stormpaw -> Crookedjaw Disappeared to fully train himself, discovering how to fight and hunt with his injury and killing an old fox alone.

Hoprunner -> Deadfoot Created a battle technique where he distracted with his good paw, and clobbered with his bad one. Eventually created a "bonker" for the arm that would keep the wrist firm so bonkings didn't cause recoil damage.

Bluefur -> Bluemoon Unsure how she got the title though, still working that out

Stormcloud -> Monsterscar He will get this as first order of business after Bramblestar retires, or when Stormcloud dies in-canon

Thorntuft -> Shredtail He earned this title after he killed a boar, but it wasn't THE ONE who ate his family so he kept going.

DISHONOR TITLES

??? -> Maggottail Unsure how exactly, but this one is definitely a dishonor title.

Brightpaw -> Swifthound Dishonor Titles do not mock scars or the surviving of grievous injuries. Those things are VALUED in Clan society. Dishonor titles are abstract, meant to mock mistakes and follies and publicly shame the cat. Brightpaw was being reminded, every day, of the fact she got Swiftpaw killed violently. It was considered cruel and disgusting to do this when her cousin dying should have been punishment enough.

Stonefur -> Heartworm Tigerstar is calling him a deadly parasite that must be dealt with before he destroys the Clan from the inside out.

Mistyfoot -> Festerberry Similar to Stonefur, this is the Clanmew word for an abscess or pustule.

Featherpaw -> Silverpaw & Stormpaw -> Graypaw To liken them to their codebreaking parents and to say that they are the reason their mother is dead. Their father isn't even decent enough to pay for his crimes, so they will be punished instead.

Breezepelt -> Rottenheart Great Battle involvement. For being the little ringleader in WindClan.

Sunstrike -> Brokensun Great Battle involvement. References an extinguished sun that no longer shines.

Furzepelt -> Fleapelt Great Battle involvement.

Harestar -> Darkseeker Great Battle involvement. References how he sought the Dark Forest to meet Mudclaw

Mousewhisker -> Stupidhead Great Battle involvement. Same word in Clanmew as 'Mousebrain.' Meant to reference how he had no bad intentions, but still ended up on the side of the Dark Forest by not thinking through the implications of training in hell. Backfires massively because it's REALLY funny, and a perfect example of Bramblestar being an awful namer.

Spiderleg -> Spiderbite Great Battle involvement. For almost killing his son, Toadstep. In Clanmew this word is, "Spider-Doing Cannibalism," a rough translation to English.

Blossomfall -> Shredbloom Great Battle involvement. More direct translation would be "Removed-Bud" referencing a flower bud plucked before it could become fruit.

RiverClan and ShadowClan didn't apply any Dishonor Titles for Great Battle involvement.

[embracetranquilityson]

A Duellist's Redemption

Summary: A comfortable life, a well-paying Ministry job and a loving family— you would have had it all, had you never met Victor Rookwood.

Instead, blood fills your days and nightmares haunt your nights.

The rise and fall of an Ashwinder Duellist, whose conscience finally caught up with them.

[Y/N-You POV, gender neutral.]

TW: Blood and violence, emotional abuse, emotional manipulation, gaslighting, physical abuse, implied/mentioned child abuse, implied/mentioned animal (magical beasts) abuse.

Chapters: 11 (fully published)

Full fanfic:

First chapter: Act I - The beginning

You didn't really know how you got where you were.

Once, you were a regular, naive, boring student and now… now you could hardly look at yourself in the mirror.

It all started in the Defence Against the Dark Arts class, after a mock duel like many you had fought before; but that time your opponent was a boy named Victor Rookwood. You had seen him around before, strutting in the hallways like he owned the place but you didn't really know him, nor did you know any of the boys who seemed to escort him wherever he went.

Not that it mattered. You fought, you won, Victor got mad and threw a tantrum, the lesson was over and your life would go on the same as always, or so you thought.

You couldn't have known that day would have been the beginning of the end— of your end.

As mad as he had seemed in class, Victor Rookwood actually approached you a few days later, all smiles and arrogance, complimenting your skills like nothing had happened. He invited you to the Three Broomsticks for a butterbeer and, Merlin knows why, you accepted.

Now, you cringed at the memory. You cringed at how much fun you had had that day with him.

Days and weeks and years blurred together and while life went on, you and Victor were always at each other's side. You knew everything about each other, about your families, about his father’s… business. Even that didn't deter you.

You, a regular no one from a family of regular no ones, didn't mind that your friend was the son of a gang ringleader. On the contrary, you found it fascinating, alluring even.

Man, you were dumb.

The first crack came in the middle of a summer night, when the air was warm and the fireflies danced under the moonlight.

You were twenty-two years old, doing odd jobs to make ends meet while you waited for a response from the Ministry; just a few days before, you had applied for a job in the Beast Division, with a stellar recommendation from your beasts Professor. You were hoping to end up in Troll Patrol or Werewolf Capture Unit but anything was fine really.

Victor had hated the idea since the beginning and tried to discourage you in any way he could but you hadn't budged.

You still remembered what you had told him the day he found out you had applied, and the words now felt like venom in the back of your throat: “Victor, I love you and I will always be there for you, but my future is at the Ministry. And if they reject me, I'll become a Dragonologist or something.”

Heh. Jokes on you. Jokes on that placid summer night. Jokes on your dreams and your future.

A tenday had passed since your fight with Victor— if you could even call it that, since he had stormed off without a word.

The night was warm and you couldn't sleep, worried about the long silence from the Ministry.

As you tossed and turned, a knock on the door was bound to change your life.

You had never seen the man in front of you, nor did his name mean anything to you, yet it only took a sentence for you to follow him into the darkness: “Victor sent me. He’s in trouble.”

Your heart raced in your chest as you took the stranger’s arm and, moments later, you were outside the Rookwoods’ mansion.

You had been there thousands of times during the years but the faces that haunted its hallways that night were all but familiar to you. Dozens of people stood watch, as still as statues, as you were escorted into the dining room, into a future that you would've never thought for yourself.

Your friend, Victor Rookwood, stood next to the dining table, his face bloody and raw and his clothes ripped and stained. He smiled a crooked smile when he saw you.

“Good, you're here. We're all here, then.” He growled, his voice hoarse and strained.

You noticed a few known faces in the room: old mutual friends from school, a couple of people Victor had met during the years and that you had gotten familiar with, and… Mr. Rookwood sat on a chair, slouched over the table with blood pooling under his head. He was mumbling something but you couldn't understand him. You couldn't understand anything.

Your heart rate sped up again, as your mind tried to come up with a reasonable explanation.

“See, father? Even [Y/N] came to say goodbye.”

Goodbye? Why would you…— Mr. Rookwood spat a bloody drool and Victor slammed his head —again, apparently— against the wooden table.

You froze. It was as if time itself had stopped.

“Now, now, where are your manners, boy?” he laughed as he quoted what his father used to tell him time and time again, usually before beating him bloody.

Was that what it was? Was that Victor finally snapping? If so, why were so many people there? Why were you there? Why did he send for you?

It took you years to realise what had happened that night, the manipulation and coercion that he used to get you there.

But you didn't know then. All you knew was that your friend needed you and that no matter what your bleeding heart thought, his abusive father deserved everything that was happening to him. Or at least that was what Victor had told you after. After his father was dead, after he had become the new Mr. Rookwood, leader of the Rookwood gang, and he needed you.

Your skills in a duel were unmatched, he said.

He didn't trust anyone else to watch his back, he said.

The Ministry will never hire you now that you're an accessory to murder. He didn't say that, and it took you years to realise that that was the reason why you were really there that night.

He wanted you: your wand, your skill, your loyalty… your dreams were a hindrance he could no longer tolerate.

So you pledged yourself to him; to keep him safe, you said to yourself as you laid awake that night, Mr. Rookwood’s death mask seared into your mind, as guilt and fear and horror bubbled in your guts like a cocktail of poisons.

“My closest friend, my Ashwinder, my Duellist.”

You still remembered his smile while he said that, his hands, still smeared with his father's blood, cupped around your cheeks.

You felt bad for him, then. Now, you wished you had punched him right to daddy dearest.

[reverse-pines-twins]

Hello, Gravity Falls!

*The curtain rises on Mabel Pines standing in the middle of the Tent of Telepathy. Her brother is standing behind her, mostly obscured by her and the fog he's releasing from his amulet.*

I'm your darling host, Mabel! But please, we're all friends here, aren't we? Call me Belle.

*Cheers erupt from the crowd.*

Oh, you're all too kind! But alas, I will only be here for a little bit. I've been sent-

*She pauses for exactly three seconds to build suspense. The crowd is starting to get antsy when she finishes.*

-to therapy.

*The crowd gasps.*

I know, I know! It's truly a tragedy. But don't be too afraid! My darling brother is here!

*They swap places and he lifts a hand, shining a light through the heavy fog. He also cuts it off and lets it dissapate naturally.*

I know I haven't been on stage much, but rest assured I love you all! You're a great audience and I'm happy to have you. I'm Mason Pines, but you can call me Beau!

*He winks and someone in the crowd faints.*

And I'll still be here, just maybe not as often.

For anyone who's new, you can submit asks in the back. Please have fun and remember -

Don't waste our time.

Hello everyone, I'm the mod @abyssal-author-and-artist, he/him or it/its for me. This is my rewrite of my original pinned intro because Beau's stage name changed and there's been some uh. Developments.

RP Blogs I mostly interact with (though others are allowed and encouraged!) @gleeful-northwest-fam - Rev!Falls Pacifica, Gideon, Preston, and Bud @reverse-falls-stan - Reverse Falls Stan, run by the same person as above @reverse-falls-ford - Reverse Falls Ford @william-will-cipher - pretty sure this is the right blog for our Will (Hi Waffle!)

Both of them will have three moods - a stage persona and a more honest one where they're little annoyances who will insult you for fun, as well as a mood where they're just deeply damaged people trying to get by. Mabel tends to be more in her stage persona while Mason sorta just hates being here and will roast you for existing - though both will do both and I will take requests if you want one of them to act either upbeat or pissed at everything.

Please don't take it too hard if I insult you in character - I'm just trying to be in character and there's no hard feelings there, I swear!

My asks are open! Ask them anything (check DNI for exceptions).

Tags: #belle of the ball - her stage persona - Belle #mabel's coffee - her offstage persona - Mabel #lonely star - her most honest persona - Mabes #ringleader - his stage persona - Beau #why did you disturb me - his offstage persona - Mason #little dipper - his most honest personality - Dipper #pay no attention to the man behind the curtain - ooc posting #audience requests - asks #let belle and beau be kids - me letting the 12yos be 12yos

DNI - No shippy asks - they're still children guys. (And yes, that includes insinuating relationships with ocs) No homophobia/transphobia/racism/etc GoFundMe asks will be deleted - this just isn't the place. I'm sorry.

I will expand this as needed. Don't make me have to.

[mable-stitchpunk]

Going Home in a Box: Chapter 72- Teaser

Her box was tipped to assist in getting her up some short steps, with Mike and Fritz swearing and snickering respectively as they got it up onto the stage and rolled it into position. Mike gave a couple knocks to the top of the box, Charlie quietly knocked back, and then listened as their footsteps retreated.

It was almost immediately after that when she heard some thumping in movement back towards the steps of the stage. She had a suspicion what it was, but it was only confirmed when she heard something getting wheeled up beside her. Baby.

“You’ve got this! You’ve GOT this!” Ennard whispered loud enough that she could hear it. Baby gave a near silent hum of agreement- one that Charlie did not hear- and Ennard was off the stage as fast as he had come on.

Baby only waited long enough for the audience to not be as suspicious when she suddenly came to life and then went straight into character. Her voice light and bubbly.

“Hello, everybody! My name’s Ringleader Lizzie and we’re going to be having a singsong in just a moment. I hope you will join me! My, there’s so many happy faces out today!... And so many stars and stripes!” Baby gasped. “It must be… The Fourth of July! I love the Fourth of July! Is there going to be fireworks? Oh, I should’ve brought sparklers- Oops, I’m getting a little off-track.”

Charlie could hear her wheeling her roller skates back and forth to emphasize. “But I’m not celebrating alone today. I’ve brought a friend with me!” She knocked on the top of the box quickly. “Wake up, Sleepyhead.”

That was her cue. Steading herself one last time, Charlie got into character and popped out of her box. Though took care not to lose her flag printed visor and taped on sunglasses in the process, a few Fourth of July themed accessories to replace her too-hot jacket. Baby’s only additional accessories was her plush pig covering her claw and a cluster of red, white, and blue star-studded balloons that had been tied to her back and bobbed in the air above her as she moved.

It was also only now when she caught sight of the Fourth of July celebration in the middle of Hurricane. The parade had been earlier in the day, but the crowd still hung around for the food stalls, carnival games, an oversized bounce house, and the impending fireworks once it got dark. It was still a long way from dark though, with a bright blue sky dotted with clouds stretched above the town. The smell of fresh cut grass and grilling meat hung on the air. It was the perfect summer day for a holiday like this.

 Charlie rose from her box in a stretch, yawning like she had roused from a nap. Baby presented her with a wave.

“Lottie the Puppet, everybody! Give her a round of applause.”

While they clapped, Baby rolled back just a little bit so she would be able to lean forward without bumping heads while they were exchanging banter. Much to Charlie’s relief, she still remembered the lines they had written together even now that she was out of her box and under the gaze of a couple dozen onlookers and whoever decided to pass by in the meantime.

“Have a nice nap, Lottie?” Baby asked. She leaned forward and cocked her head cutely.

“It depends. Where are we?” Charlie asked. She looked around and tilted her own head in confusion.

“We’re at-! Umm, I’m not sure. But there’s a lot of people here just dying to meet you!”

“Oh, okay.” Charlie fanned herself with her hand. “Yikes. Did we have to do this on the hottest day of the year?”

“Mm-hm! Besides, you could use a little sun. You’re looking a little pale.”

Charlie looked off stage at the audience.

“But it’s supposed to be sunny! And that’s because… it’s the Fourth of July!”

“Oh, Boom Boom Barbeque Freedom Day?”

“No! Hot Dog and Family Time Day! And the freedom to stuff your face and spend as much time with your family as you can stomach. But not just family, friends too!” Baby turned her attention to and addressed the audience. “Lottie and I are best friends! We go back a long, long way. We’ve known each other since we were babies!”

“In pigtails and onesies, daycare days,” Charlie agreed.

“We spent so much time together. When we were kids, we used to have sleepovers every weekend for the whole summer!”

“We didn’t get much sleep.”

“But we had plenty of fun in the sun!”

“I wasn’t so pale back then.”

“So, we wrote a song about it!” Baby chirped. “And you all are going to be the first ones to hear it!”

“Maestro, hit it!”

[eyes-that-decieve]

[Tape recorder clicks on. Wood clicks as Marione sits down across from Styx.]

Styx: You're really sure you want to do this?

Marione: I'm remembering more, I'd like to tell you before I change my mind.

Styx: [sigh] Okay. Statement of Marione, regarding the event of his becoming. Statement begins.

Marione: My parents really tried. I know they did, but they didn't know what they were doing. They really wanted to protect me, keep me safe. But it was suffocating.

Everything was planned out for me. In hindsight, it felt like I was a puppet then too.

[Slightly hysterical whispered laugh]

Marione: I used to sneak out, go explore abandoned places. They tried to stop me over the years, but once I moved out they couldn't do a thing. "For your own good" only lasted until I cut the strings.

They wanted me to become a doctor. I found that boring. I went along with it for a bit, then left. Now, what I thought was really interesting was when I went exploring.

The abandoned places always caught my attention. They still look like what they were meant to be, but all wrong. Tables covered in dust, wooden steps sagging and broken. Things worn down until they give you a sense of wrongness to look at. I used to chase that, looking for the familiar and puzzling out how it came to be like that.

I was naive to think it wouldn't hurt me. I just thought it would be something mundane. Black mold, maybe falling through an unstable floor.

The last place I went through was a wax museum. I don't remember what it was called, but I got a tip about it from my roommate. She claimed she hadn't said anything when I told her where I was going. I shook it off. She had a bad memory anyway.

It was a really cool place inside. I thought it was so interesting that none of the figures had dust on them, though the place had been abandoned for years.

Then the calliope music began. The figures started moving. A mannequin was up on the stage, wearing a coat that a circus ringleader might wear. It spoke to the figures, though I couldn't understand what it said. Something about the dance about to begin.

The sense of wrongness that I got from that dance was a bad one. Not like the one I chased, not when some of those figures looked almost human. I got swept up in it, a mannequin with many arms moving my limbs along with everyone else. Jerking, contorting, I couldn't stop it.

I saw a few other actual people caught in the dance. A short scarred one, a second with pockmark scars who looked like he wanted to burn the whole place down, a lady with a snarl on her face, and I barely got a glimpse of the last. I saw how they fought the figures, trying to understand when they didn't even know their friend's names. I didn't want that. The more they fought the more the ringleader spoke to them, confused them. My unwilling dance turned into a performance, a smile plastered on my face. The ringleader pestered them, while I gave myself a little more control. I don't know when my performance stopped being one.

The crowd of figures moved closer to the other people, pushing me in that direction. I caught a piece of the conversation between the ringleader and the angry one.

"-I know. But I can hurt you."

Fire. I was behind the ringleader when it all went to hell, but that didn't save me. I remember the feeling of the heat, then being thrown back and torn. Broken and shattered like an old toy.

Next thing I know, I'm falling out of a cocoon in the library, in a completely different body. I guess I really was the puppet.

[Tape recorder clicks off]