#in case anyone’s wondering how feral I am about those two

[randombrainworm]

@softmoxymuffin this one's for you! Thanks a lot for cute prompt - it was so much fun to write!!

[satancopilotsmytardis]

Fuck yeah, demon Dabi!

I really like that he got adopted by a community willing to take care of him. I believe that people will always seek out community and I just adore this detail here. The fact that they find a starving child and take him in.

On another note, seeing a feral Dabi would be pretty hot, actually.

Oh, Dabi. He's starving himself for other's approval. He's hurting himself again. And sure, it's different, but is it really? He's hurting himself to prove that he is strong, that he should be taken seriously. My boy :(

"There's [describes how all of the LoV are very unhinged] and Magne" I love this line.

And the found family starts! Shigaraki doesn't want any of his crew to be in less than the best shape they could be in. I really like how you write him as a good boss.

He booked a room at La Venus. Yeah, I'm sure that won't lead to him running into Shigaraki at all. Totally.

And the lingerie shows up! Also, Dabi keeping money tucked away in all of your stories for worst-case scenarios is really nice. Especially since he uses them to help the League after AfO is arrested. It just adds to his character nicely, I think.

Ooooh, flustered Shig! We don't get to see that often. Also, uncomfortable conversation for the win when Shigaraki is very much attracted to Dabi and knows that Dabi can smell it. Lol.

"He isn't supposed to be nice, or god forbid, understanding." Dabi. Dabi, have you ever thought about the fact that you had to deal with the literal scum of society for so long that you have gotten used to being treated as less than human? Because Shig is treating you like a human (well, demon) right now and that is actually the bare minimum. Oh boy.

Dabi is jealous~

That other succubus obviously noticed how interested Shig is in Dabi and felt threatened because they have slept with him before (probably more than once?). Also, the fact that Shig is not at all interested in them while being very much interested in Dabi is amusing.

Shigaraki: "I am going to be professional about this and give Dabi some space so my presence won't make him uncomfortable." Dabi: "You want to fuck me so bad it makes you look stupid."

I wonder if Shig had the scent blockers installed before or after he met Dabi for the first time? Was it just a general idea to use scent blockers in his villain costume as to not get tracked down or did Giran tell him one of the people who want to get in contact is a Succubus and Shig tried to make sure Dabi won't be uncomfortable?

"What if I want to eat you tonight?" "What are your rates?" Shigaraki you are such a simp. "More than worth triple." Oh, do you also want to offer him your still-beating heart on a golden plate? Simp.

Of course Shigaraki would find a way to be sweet even high on venom. He would never want to hurt Dabi by accident.

I really enjoy how you write oral. I think those are some of my favourite fics from you.

Last third of the fic and things are going downhill fast. I'm guessing Dabi only managed to last two months because he was eating so regularly before. Oh, I wonder if the fact that he can't get his fill from anyone else has to do woth the fact that he called Shigaraki his mate? Nah, couldn't be it. Haha, immediately got confirmation for that one.

Okay, but that venom-turned-to-gas attack is cool as fuck. Also, Compress immediately asking to turn taht into marbles just shows how the League is used to having Dabi around. Compress is practical when it comes to stuff like this, he won't judge Dabi when this can be used to give them an advantage (not that he would judge Dabi otherwise, either).

The fact that Dabi has managed to go hungry for this long without going feral really speaks for his self control. I don't remember if you ever answered this, but do demons typically have quirks in this universe? What is the PLFs stance on succubi?

Oh, oh poor Dabi. He was hungry for so long and he tried so hard and he held on for so long. It's no surprise he's slipping. Though taking a chunk out of an already injured Shigaraki does seem counterproductive. Also, that injury is going to be difficult to explain. Especially if there are succubi around, or people who know enough about succubi to know about them going feral.

The abandonment issues are hitting hard again, aren't they? And Shigaraki is such a simp. He had Dabi take a bite out of him and all he can focus on is that Dabi was hurting.

Well, that's a twist. Interesting though! Also, the fact that Shigaraki just immediately ignores everything else to make Dabi feel good. My guy, you are missing part of your shoulder.

Ah, that was a sweet ending. Well, as sweet as you can get with these two. I wonder how the rest of the League reacted? They definitely noticed that Dabi was oit of it for a long time. And I imagine they took the time to read up on succubi, at least on the basics. Did they know he was starving?

Also, an immortal Shigaraki is terrifying, actually. Once heroes find out how he did that, I'm pretty sure they will use the fact that he "owns" Dabi to turn the public even more against him.

Thank you for the story!

Fuck yeah! A long comment!!

Dabi's daddy issues really take a backseat in this one, but they are absolutely still here being a driving force behind his actions in a way I don't even think he's capable of recognizing.

I truly believe that Magne is the most normal member of the League. Oh, she has 47 attempted murders and a temper? Yeah? So what? I would too if i had to deal with transphobia that far into the future while an anthropomorphic washing machine got to run around being one of the top heroes!

Shigaraki has definitely slept with Reo at least twice, however, even if he hadn't slept with Dabi that night, he never would have taken them to bed again. He does not like that Reo tried to stake their claim over him when as far as he was concerned, anything that happened before was just a transaction.

The scent blockers were a part of his costume since his debut! When there are heroes like Hound Dog, it's important to keep things like that covered. But Shigaraki didn't know they were just as effective on demons which is why he said he would be reporting that back to the doctor.

READ HIM FOR FILTH! Look, Shigaraki is so blunt already that I just think if he ever cared enough about something other than his goals, be that another person or just sex flat out, he would be incredibly blunt, earnest, and cringe about pursuing that as well. He does not have a subtle bone in his body.

So in this universe, full-blooded demons do not have quirks, but they do have innate magics and abilities that can sometimes mimic what humans think of as quirks and that can help them stand toe-to-toe with humans even after their evolution. I never had a good chance to bring this up in the Incubus!Shigaraki story, but in the first installment Dabi mentions that he told the rest of the League Decay was a mutation of his ability to eat lifeforce, however Shigaraki was not aware at that time, that was a lie. In actuality, he was born human with demonic blood in his ancestry, and when Decay activated as a child, he was scooped up by AFO who then had Ujiko do a lot of medical experimentation on him until the demon genes activated. From there they waited for him to hit puberty, knowing his memories would be fucked up and gaslighting him the entire time to make sure he thought he was a born demon, to see what kind he would end up being. The fact he ended up being something as weak and low-born as an incubus is why AFO treated him so poorly and encouraged him to starve/feed only on nightmares, since he had already put so much effort into Shigaraki and didn't want to waste him. The fact that Dabi very openly and blatantly has a quirk signals to the world he was human first.

The PLF is a very large organization so it would range from "not racist at all" to "extremely racist" concerning Dabi's and (to a lesser degree) Toga's heritage. In general, given his position in the organization, Dabi would not have to deal with the particularly racist members-- except Geten who, after the incident in Deika, and with his own family's obsession with 'blood purity' would be thoroughly disgusted by Dabi. He would still ask to be put on a squad with the popsicle though, because Dabi is used to that kind of treatment and he wants to keep a close eye on him to make sure he doesn't' ever try to start something.

Shigaraki continues to be a simp, but the fact that he ignored the bite and just kept fucking Dabi is 100% down to the venom. He couldn't have stopped even if he wanted to at that point, and he was just glad that Dabi didn't tear out a vein or artery.

The rest of the League would know they're dating, and kind of had their big reaction to that before the group headed to Deika, but no one else would be able to tell that Shigaraki owns Dabi now unless they tell them, or until it becomes very obvious that Shigaraki is not aging anymore, which he might actually continue to do until he's around 25 or so if the bond determines that's when he would be at his most physically healthy. Overall, I think that they would be happy for them, but be very confused about how in the fuck that works, because the succubi-granted immortality is a very well-kept secret in demon circles to avoid succubi being enslaved again.

So on that same note, the heroes would have no way of knowing what was going on between the two of them for a very, very long time. Especially if Shigaraki does naturally unlock the regeneration quirk of All For One, which would make the longevity Dabi is giving him and his healing look like one and the same. They would also have a theoretical eternity to do what they need to, even if Dabi has already decided he's not going to kill himself to kill Endeavor anymore. Now he gets to take the time and plan for a new revenge. (I'm thinking fighting Shoto and forcing him to use his flames until he accidentally turns into a demon too and forcing Enji to see his perfect prodigy is now a demonic race the whole world looks down on)

Thank you for the comment!

[atgvnpoint]

" bullshit ? please clearly he's your new kissing partner. you did that with me not once either, plenty of times. " Benji can say whatever he wanted just like he concealed his feelings for him for however long it lasted. yet still the other was in complete denial. " i wonder if you hear yourself at times, always hiding behind your own fucking lies. and where's ludovic since you got your new friend here, partying ? no wait -- being the center of attention while you're here for your fitting, and for your own damn wedding. " giving a roll of his eyes. Cris didn't really like the guy at all and he only did what anyone would do, speak up. Benji was assertive, that he could tell. but was Cris going to allow the other guy to keep talking shit, no. Feeling his friend's hand against his arm, thick brows furrowed inwards as dark hues gazed at the amaru guy. " we can leave at anytime. i'm sure AJ will understand." he replied back to Benny, leaving that as an option just in case things got too heated. Cris watched the exchange between the other two unfold before his eyes. Benji seemed so fed up given the way he was talking to the other male. he stood close just in case.

Feeling the push against his shoulders had amaru's jaw set and clench , dark eyes looking straight through those blue eyes. sure there was some confidence, he knew who Benji's father was. it wasn't like he forgot about his father who held him at gunpoint. did he ever flinch in that moment ? no, maybe benji would've thought about giving the okay to his father then. how he wished that happened instead of standing here watching the other marry his brother again. amaru lived in this purgatory and he hated it. it only hurt how he was forced to be around. fate also played a role too. " low of me for speaking the fucking truth? that's what he is, a fucking replacement. " however, benji's hand came and landed hard against his face, feeling the sting left behind. amaru stepped closer, brows knit together , nose flaring , jaw clenching. his features feral as his forehead pressed hard against benji, chest as well. no space left between them. " then finish what your father started, you know what i'm talking about. " raising his hand, placing the tip of his two fingers against the other's temple mimicking a gun. " the only fucking way to end our misery is pulling the fucking trigger. but you don't have the guts. but i know who can, maybe this time you won't interfere. "

The   more   Amaru   spoke,   the   more   anger   flared   up   inside   of   Benji.   How   dare   he   say   such   things   about   Cris?   Benji's   lips   pressed   into   a   thin   line   while   blue   eyes   glared   at   the   man   he   once   fell   in   love   with.   ❝There   you   are   again,   calling   me   a   damn   whore   just   with   a   different   wording.   I   am   not   obligated   to   report   back   to   you,   but   for   your   information,   Cris   and   I   never   kissed!   And   he   is   NOT   your   replacement.   I   befriended   him   because   we   have   things   in   common   and   because   we   get   along   with   each   other!❞   His   eyes   darkened   even   more   and   even   his   voice   seemed   to   shake   a   bit   from   anger   he   tried   to   suppress.   Was   Amaru   trying   to   hurt   him?   The   more   he   spoke,   the   angrier   Benji   became.   Right   now,   it   was   obvious   –   even   to   Benji   –   that   Amaru   tried   to   manipulate   him   and   plant   intrusive   thoughts   in   his   head.   ❝Your   BROTHER   is   at   home   writing   music   for   your   information!   And   do   you   know   why   he   isn't   here   with   me?   Because   I   told   him   that   my   wedding   outfit   is   a   surprise   he   can't   see   before   the   wedding.❞   Deep   inside,   Benji   knew   that   he   shouldn't   even   explain   himself.   But   at   the   same   time,   he   had   this   urge   to   defend   Ludovic   and   their   relationship.   Why   would   this   man   who   has   once   been   so   sweet   do   and   say   all   those   things?   He   lashed   out   at   Ludovic   and   Cris   even   though   none   of   these   people   deserved   his   anger.   Benji   deserved   it,   but   that   was   another   topic.   It   was   nice   of   Cris   to   speak   up   and   even   care   about   Benji.   This   was   why   he   appreciated   his   new   friend   so   much,   but   this   time   Benji   couldn't   run   away   again.   His   anger   was   way   too   fueled   at   this   point   to   turn   back.

Even   before   Benji's   brain   could   function   properly   again,   he   closed   the   distance   between   him   and   Amaru.   It   was   a   push   first,   then   a   slap   in   the   other's   face   as   soon   as   Amaru   called   Cris   a   replacement   again.   Enough   was   enough.   His   gaze   remained   on   Amaru   the   entire   time   and   his   back   straightened.   He   didn't   back   away,   not   even   when   Amaru   came   so   close   that   their   foreheads   touched.   Again,   it   was   something   Benji   learned   from   Richard.   You   are   not   supposed   to   flinch,   you   are   not   supposed   to   back   off.   Any   of   that   “weak”   behavior   has   earned   Benji   the   beatings   of   a   lifetime.   But   on   the   inside,   it   looked   a   bit   different.   Benji   noticed   too   many   things   now   that   Amaru   was   close.   He   noticed   the   other's   scent,   how   that   hot   breath   fanned   over   his   lips   and   it   was   almost   as   if   he   could   feel   Amaru's   heartbeat   in   his   chest.   For   a   split   second,   Benji's   gaze   lowered   to   Amaru's   lips   but   then   he   looked   up   again.   Those   fingers   against   his   temple   provoked   him   again.   ❝You   won't   drag   Ludovic   into   this!❞   Benji   hissed,   his   voice   was   barely   above   a   whisper.   Because   they   both   knew   that   Richard   couldn't   do   these   things   anymore,   that   old   bastard   was   no   more.   Benji   lifted   his   hand   finally.   His   fingers   curled   around   Amaru's   throat   harshly,   but   not   to   choke   him   (yet)   but   to   keep   him   in   place.   ❝You   talk   about   my   guts   huh?   Funny,   then   why   don't   you   pull   the   trigger?   On   me.   Isn't   that   what   you   want?   Not   seeing   me   again   and   hurt   Ludovic?   But   you   don't   have   the   guts.❞   he   whispered   against   Amaru's   lips.   There   was   this   urge.   This   urge   to   kiss   that   man   right   now,   to   kiss   him   and   hurt   him   at   the   same   time.   But   he   couldn't   do   that.   ❝All   you   can   do   is   talk.   Talk,   talk,   talk.   Looking   for   the   easy   way   out.   You   don't   even   have   the   guts   to   hit   me.   Do   it.   End   our   misery.   Hit   me.   But   you   don't   have   the   guts,   do   you?❞   // @inscnityclub

[incorrectshantaequotes]

Shantae Mini-Headcanons - Tibia

You're probably wondering what this is, and to that, I say - I'm running an experiment! We'll see how this goes but hopefully it's a relatively short post

So, those of you who read my Romance headcanons post here might remember this little tidbit

Well, guess what? I have now remembered the details! Somewhat. I've also changed a few around but it's also been a bit since I first had that idea so I say it's fine

Anyway...I'm not going to cover the hypothetical romance since that would take a hot minute but I am going to briefly touch on my headcanons for the zombie tourist girl - or, as I'm calling her, Tibia - since her design is neat and, well, why not, right?

For anyone who's unfamilar this is the NPC I'm talking about

again this ideally should not be that long but I will still put a read more for anyone who just wants to scroll on

Her full name is Tibia H. Patella

It's weird to me that the only real indication she's a zombie is the green skin and the stitch around her left leg so I'm going to fix that. Tibia also has a stitch around her left arm (specifically around the area that is conveniently always obscured by her hair in her one animation) and on her initial awakening she was missing a whole-ass eye, which is why she took to wearing sunglasses

Key word to that last part is initially; Tibia has since fixed the lack of depth perception with an eye pilfered from an unfortunate shmuck who had the misfortune of getting caught in the Chit Chat Spider Queen's web and being its lunch, so all the sunglasses hide now is a case of heterochromia. She still wears them out of habit though

The little zombie boy we also see in Seven Sirens is her adopted little brother, Mort. The story behind him is that, while making a brief stop in a human town with the Zombie Caravan, Tibia found Mort homeless, starving, and notably lacking any adult supervision to take care of him. She tried getting him a home before the caravan was due to leave to no avail, but she couldn't just LEAVE him there, and with no better options presenting themselves to her...she ended up turning the kid so she could take him with the caravan

Tibia briefly got in hot water with the caravan for that stunt - civilized zombies aren't particularly keen on turning for the most part, as it's seen as enforcing the stereotype that they're no different from their feral, shambling counterparts who mindlessly bite and tear for a taste of brains, never mind the ethical quandaries - but after she explained the situation they begrudgingly agreed that she probably made the best move she could have there.

For his part, Mort has adjusted remarkably well to being a zombie and bounced back quick. He was the one who insisted that Tibia was his older sister now, and she happily agreed, making an extra room for him and generally acting as the authority figure he needs in his life

Tibia is one of Rottytops' several exes, though as is the case for all of Rottytops' dating life before she started dating Shantae, it didn't last for more than two weeks. She's heard the news, and is genuinely happy for Rottytops, glad that she's turning her life around...buuuuuut any time she's actually around Rottytops, she tends to be awkwardly tense. This has less to do with Rottytops and more to do with the fact that Tibia knows firsthand that Rottytops is a trouble magnet and just being in proximity of her means her entire afternoon has probably gone down the drain

Regardless of whether she's dating Harmony or not I imagine Tibia has a crush on her from seeing the Half-Genie Festival and, well. Like I said in the romance post Harmony is a built like an amazon Tibia fell for her reeeeeeaaaaaalllll fast. Mort teases her relentlessly about it and she is torn between being happy to engage in sibling banter or severely regretting telling Mort about dating Rottytops after she finally managed to recognize her in the Fillin disguise because she KNOWS that has to be fuel for the fire to him

[brilliantfantasticgeronimo]

the star beast reactions:

the end of time part 2: “the story never ends” switches to “ the story hasnt ended yet” this show is driving me to cookoo land

taxi logo! Very 2005.

“That says grand mistress!” “oh, catch up” [….sentient physic paper headcanon? Maybe everything the doctor carries is secretly sentient sdlkfj rip all those sonics that fell in battle]

NERYS HAD AN ACCIDENT. KARMIC JUSTICE.

"me putting up with that" ksksksks "what do I care? I’ve got the true greatest girls in the world" just u wait for what’s coming shaun. Hope u always secretly wanted an autistic queerplatonic husband.

"and I shoukd know, I invented them!" bully!donna headcanon comfirmed (?) to go with already-canon teenage!wreck donna.

"oh, yes definetly" sylvia "queer-coded mom "mother of a queer " subtext finally becomes text as "grandmother of a queer"!!!!

"you had a bit of a breakdown… and then you got better" sksksks every “the doctor is a hallucination” dark!fic ever/ alternatively: amy coded

"I should be really happy"'... but sometimes I lie in bed thiking, what have I lost?" THIRTEEN CODED THIRTEEN CODED OH GOD THE REGRETS OVER DROPPING THE FOBWATCH….

“Fuge” is iconic

THE MUSIC IS DOING A THING!!!

14 is definetly someone who lived 11/12/13's lives lol my girl is so tired

"I’ve read the files" when UNIT personel says this the translation is: I’ve watched all of three’s era.

"I dont know who I am anymore" understatement of the billenia!!!!!!!!!!!!!! "she's happy! Is she?” I mean tbf, is anyone ever? in this economy? Lol

"I don’t believe in destiny but-" (yeah you do?)

"You know my rules, no secrets in this house" I wonder if Donna didn’t get at least a little bit mad after this that everyone lied to her for 15 years dlskjf

NERYS. VIPER IN THE NEST

the bit with wilf’s accomodation was a good subtle commentary about accesibility again…

ok…. But the definite article bit was excellent??? sdlkfj i swear fandom is so recalcitrant sometimes

"two hearts! so do I!" [rtd: in case u didn’t notice, this is what we call A Foil]

"that’s not concrete ', it’s mortar" "thank you, bob the builder"

the doc in the wig…………………… valeyard coded

There will be no violence... UNTIL he deems it fit and proper! and that’s GROWTH(tm)

solar psychodelia my beloved eu band

"it just felt like the sort of thing he woukd do" t.t

"who cares about me?" "i do" T.T!!!!!

(sdklfj tho ngl it feels like it escaletes to this emotional level wayyyy too quickly)

clifftops.... grief... fingerprint… THE SMELL OF DUST AFTER RAIN……..

I mean he did very much kill donna (again?) ddklSjs THIS IS A VERY SIGNIFICANT THING THAT JUST HAPPENED???

“She chose her own name…” trans doctor fodder?

"male and femape and neither and more" tbh this works rlly well on the metaphysical level I was talking about (note to self: elaborate on that in another post), do have to agree it sounds a bit iffy on the gender politics front...

"cryptic, I hate that" liar, you’re all about that

tbh "shame you are not a woman anymore" feels riiiiiight in line with "you two are just time lords, you dumbos!" sdkfj donna has to be a lil’ bioessentialist about meta cris-es every time doesn’t she.

"and we choose to let it go" / [the one adventure I could never have] / [terf island will eventually let go of transphobia] / [“how to let go of depression”: the scifi/adventure series]

"why does it have to be one last trip?" good question!!! yaz would like to know as well!!!

CONCLUSIONS!

Fun as hell! But i did feel a tinge disappointed that rose and the nobles aren’t that developed (and Shirley as well).

I think The Point and The Message is a bit clumsily delivered, but overall the writers’ hearts are in the right place and it does work philosophically for where (I think?) the series is going next. As a ~Trial Of A TimeLord Enjoyer~ the bit where 14 puts on a wig made me go feral.

The meep is well realized but tbh I don’t think the OG story is that strong? And I think my Hot Take is….. I think that a straight-forward story wasn’t super compatible with all the mechanics and logistics and exposition that this “fix fic-ing the doctordonna” story necessitates. So the whole thing feels kinda bogged down by having to be a recap.

Finally… I think the resolution feels a bit too... mechanical? because Rose is not developed / put as the POV at the start, it’s not enough of an emotional thrill to see her saving the day (other than like, idk, if I interpret Rose Noble triumphing being a metaphor for Donna’s life being complete when she has her own life but also the doctor back again (?)).

[rosemaryreality]

Sonic Prime article analysis

Hey guys guess what! there's an article on gizmodo with a new synopsis for sonic prime AND new screenshots! these screenshot's are apparently from episode 6 and 7 (and as you may know we are only getting 8 this year), and while i don't think they show too much, if you don't want any kind of spoilers i'd suggest to just block the tag.

Anyway personally i am SUPER excited about this SO i'm gonna go over this whole article if you don't mind

Alright so FIRST i want to go over the synopsis

While reading the first thing that caught my attention was this

Attitudes and abilities huh? First of about the attitudes, It's not really surprising per se, since we have seen sonic's friends acting kind of ...agressive in previous trailers (plus i'm sure we have all seen the grumpy/feral tails posts), but i do wonder how it will vary between the shatterverses. I feel it could get kind of repetitive if all of them acted more or less the same way. And now about the abilities, do they mean about how in the Rebel!verse people use guns and in the pirate one swords? or is there more to that? aside from cyborg amy having some crazy stuff idk if and how they would give anyone else some impressive new ability.

Something else caught my attention about this article though...

So it seems the core of the show will really be about Sonic learning to appreciate his friends, honestly I am both surprised and not. On one hand, many people, including me, thought this might be the case since the first time we saw that one synopsis that described this show as a journey of "self-discovery and redemption". But on the other hand, one of the first things Sonic says on the trailer is a compliment to his "crew" not really something that i feel someone that needs to learn the power of friendship would say.

Personally, i do not mind this, i know that there are people who hated this idea, but i do think it's a fun idea for the show. I know that this is supposed to be game sonic, but personally i always treat each iteration of sonic as his own little guy. You guys are welcome to disagree and voice your opinions about it (in your own post pls this is a Sonic Prime hype blog now). But i for one am curious (and as they say "cautiously optimistic") about what MoA's take on my favorite hedgehog may look like.

BUT ANYWAY BACK TO THE SYNOPSIS

ijcfoijfiojijdiajdieajSIJFAIODJIAJDIJDIJDIJEI

So, it seems that shadow really IS going to be helping sonic on his journey, I wonder about how much screetime he is gonna get.

Also i almost forgot lmao

It reads to me as saying that Sonic shattering the crystal CREATED this new worlds from Sonic's original one, instead of those been already pre-existing worlds that Sonic is just visiting. Which explain the name Shatterverses.

So anyway that is most of what i have to say on the synopsis, now the screenshots AND their descriptions.

First,

So it seems that things are getting kind of tense with these two, and i do wonder what it is about, but what makes this image the more interesting for me though is the fact that the article claims that this images are from episode 6 and 7. I've had the theory for a while that Sonic would come back at least to this dimension in particular, (based on this:

I don't know about you, but between the gloves and the way he is falling (in the trailer he looks like he is going to faceplant, meanwhile normal gloves!sonic fell on his knees), i feel like this are two different scenes) And it seems i was right. It makes me wonder, how many shatterverses is Sonic going to visit? will it be common for him to go back to world he left? are there going to be mini arcs for each dimention? I am genually so excited for this.

The second screenshot by itself isn't much, I'm pretty sure it's from a scene from a previous trailer (it shows big, rouge and knuckles from the Rebelverse, along with two background characters, staring with surprise at something we aren't shown, but am 100% sure it's Sonic. they also have weapons) But the description under DID caught my attention:

Hello?? Rebel Rouge? Also for some reason she's the only one with a nickname (unless Knucks is on purpose and not a typo, but if so why does rouge gets a whole additional word and then knuckles name is shortened)

And now in the third image, THIS:

Here we have another look at our pirate crew (minus Knuckles) and they...don't look very friendly, i mean they ARE pirates but damn i wouldn't wanna mess with this people (well at least not with Rouge, Amy and Tails kind of look like they are trying too hard to look tough). But anyway that's not important, THIS is:

LMAO SAILS TAILS SADASKJD PLEASE TELL ME THEY CALL HIM THAT IN THE EPISODE. I had to google what Batten meant, apparently there is a saying "batten down the hatches" that means either to "secure a ship's hatch-tarpaulins, especially when rough weather is expected." or to "prepare for a difficulty or crisis".Also now that i think about it, it's probably also a pun on "Bat". At least Amy got a cool, easy to understand name.

NOW FOR THE BEST IMAGE,

SONIC WITH A SWORD MY BELOVED!!!! He doesn't seem very happy about it tho, in fact he looks really unsure? It looks like he managed to convince the pirate crew to work with him (also this is the third time we see a scene with these 3 together without Knuckles), and they look like they are teaching him how to use a sword? maybe? they look either excited or encouraging, something like that. (Also amy you aren't fooling anyone with those heart eyes girl come on you just met the guy). Not sure how i feel about this shoes tbh, they don't look bad but it's definetly his weakest assemble so far.

BUT ANYWAY WHO CARES SONIC WITH A SWORD <3<3<3<3

So anyway now the last picture:

Here we have another shot of the pirate crew! Now with Big included! Still not Knuckles though, which is weird because we know from the trailers this ship is his. I'm starting to wonder if they stole it from him lmao. I wonder who that lank is for, it looks to me as if someone else was about to use it to go to Knuckles ship, Big and Sails (lmao) are waving and everything, and Sails (lol) looks kind of nervous, so I'm guessing that it's not someone friendly.

Anyway i think that is all, until i have more time to think about it, or we get that footage from the game awards

[loserchildhotpants]

Destiel prompt from Twitter; kissing each other to prove there’s nothing there, even though, it’s a lie, and the kiss proves it (from this prompt list)

“I’m just saying that I don’t think you’d get this defensive if there really wasn’t anything between you two -”

“There isn’t, and I’m not getting defensive!” Dean argues, decidedly defensively.

“Methinks the lady doth protest too much,” Sam offers with a shrug and a smirk.

Staring down into the open grave the boys are in, Castiel glances between the brothers and tilts his head, wondering if perhaps by a different angle, he may better understand what their expressions mean.

“We’re bonded or whatever - that’s it, man! There’s nothing else going on!”

“I’m not even saying there is anything ‘going on,’ I’m just saying there could be, and if that were something you wanted -”

“I’m not qu -”

“I know, I get it, I hear you, humor me for a second, okay? All I’m saying is just - if there were something between you two, and you wanted there to be something ‘going on,’ where there is currently nothing ‘going on,’ I just think you should, hypothetically go for something rather than settling for the nothing, because, personally, I think there is something there, and you could have a great thing going if that were what you wanted.”

“Even if - which I don’t - I’m not - listen, though, okay? I’m not, and I don’t want that - not that there’s anything wrong with it, or something, just - even if that were the case, Cas isn’t like that. He’s not a being that experiences shit like that -”

“I’m telling you you’re wrong, Dean! The way he stares at you -”

“He stares at everyone!”

“Do I?”

The Winchesters jump in unison, both with hands on their guns faster than should be possible. They both visibly relax again, though, when they realize it’s only Castiel interrupting.

“Oh, hey, Cas,” Dean greets, his voice markedly more gentle than it was with Sam only a moment before.

Castiel appreciates it.

“Hello, Dean.”

With a cheeky grin, Sam clears his throat, and says to Cas, “your timing couldn’t be better, actually, Cas - Dean and I have some questions -”

“No, no, we do not have questions,” Dean growls at Sam, eyes blazing dangerously.

“I am always available to you boys for whatever inquiries I can assist in. Is this pertaining to my staring? It’s academic in nature, I assure you - frankly, I am used to having a form that hosts many more eyes; being in this Earthly form can present obstacles, as my perceptions are more limited than I can remember them ever being. I promise I do not mean to insult anyone.”

“Oh, I don’t think anyone’s thinking of it as an insult,” Sam intones; Dean shoves his elbow into Sam’s kidney to shut him up.

“This is you being defensive, by the way,” Sam wheezes, doubled over, but still smirking at Dean, “What’s the big deal if there’s nothing going on?”

Flushed, Dean scowls at Sam, drops his shovel, and tells him, “I’m not being defensive! There’s nothing to be defensive about! And I’ll prove it!”

Clambering out of the grave, Dean brushes the soil from his hands onto his dirtier jeans, and stomps more than walks up to Castiel.

“You’ve a cut,” Cas murmurs worriedly, spotting a knick Dean got on his cheek earlier in the day.

“It’s nothing. Listen, Cas -”

Before Dean can get anymore out, Castiel reaches for his left-side cheek, cups that side of his face, and spreads a cooling sensation that knits the skin back together neatly and cleanly.

“Uh - thanks, Cas,” Dean mutters gruffly as Cas takes his hand back.

“My pleasure, Dean.”

Uncharacteristically nervous, Dean glances down at the ground, his hands shoved in his jean pockets, then his eyes skim the ground until they happen upon Sam’s again, and whatever silent exchange they have works Dean up again.

“Cas,” Dean begins, looking into his eyes with determination, “We’re friends, you ‘n me, right?”

“Yes, Dean. You are my most cherished friend,” Castiel answers.

That gives Dean a moment’s pause where he seems to be searching Castiel’s face for some sign of sarcasm or deceit; there is none to be detected, of course.

“I - thanks, man. Uhm. Now - this is gonna sound like a weird question, but bear with me, ‘cause I’m not about to assume consent or something.”

“Okay,” Castiel says in confusion, tilting his head again.

“I’m tryin’a prove a point here to Sam, and to get it across - just - would you be okay with me kissing you? Like, just this once - I promise I won’t make it weird or anything, but I gotta ask, you know? I know you’re not into physical stuff like -”

“You’d like my permission to kiss?” Castiel intercepts neutrally, “Like people do?”

Something about that is funny - or startling? - to both Sam and Dean, and Castiel can’t tell which or for what reasons.

“Yeah. Just this one time,” Dean repeats.

Though he takes a respectable count of four seconds to seem as though he needs to consider his options, Castiel nods, and replies, “of course, Dean. Of all the favors you’ve asked of me before, I assure this is certainly the most convenient and pleasant of them.”

Sam snorts a laugh, Dean tosses a glare at him, and then settles gentle, if a little nervous, eyes back on Castiel.

“Okay…”

Dean steps closer into Cas’ space, bringing them toe-to-toe and he finds himself staring down; he’d not realized Cas was shorter than him. It’s not by much, not really enough to be remarked upon, even, but it means that Cas winds up looking up at him from under the cover of long, dark lashes, and even in the dark of the night, his eyes shine like twinkling gems.

Swallowing with some difficulty, Dean holds loosely onto the lapels of Cas’ trench coat, and he means to go in chaste, he really does, it’s just that he’s actually struggling to breathe a little, so his lips are just barely parted, and Cas - as far as Dean can tell, Cas takes that as a cue.

Because Cas’ full lips press in, but so does his tongue; before Dean can even secure his footing, Cas makes his loose hold on the lapels go tight, licking up into Dean’s mouth without hesitation or mercy.

Praying his shocked gasp wasn’t audible to Sam, Dean just tries to hold on while Cas turns his head, bites Dean’s heavy bottom lip, and then pushes Dean’s mouth more open with his own, and then he drags his hot tongue against Dean’s, coming in broad, and soft.

Dean hears himself make some kind of noise - he can’t tell what it is, because there’s too much blood rushing in his skull - there’s stubble. Stubble. There is stubble in this equation other than his own, and that’s new, and terrifying, and should be wholly unwelcome, but every synapse in his brain dedicated to pleasure is telling him otherwise.

One wide hand insinuates itself under the hem of Dean’s weathered flannel, calloused fingers pressing into his left hip possessively while the other hand glides over his pec, and shoulder to the back of his neck, pinky finger teasing the sensitive skin just under the back of his cotton collar, and thumb brushing the fine hairs at the base of Dean’s skull.

Dean thinks he may be swaying - he’s dizzy.

Cas is dragging him closer, pressing their hips and abdomens together, and Dean’s hands have somehow found better purchase on the front of Cas’ button-down dress shirt than his lapels.

Dean thinks he hears one of the buttons pop off with the strain of his hold, but neither of them seem inclined to do anything about it, so he figures it doesn’t matter; he tries to establish himself as a bit more dominant, thrown off his usual groove by the absolutely sinful way Cas apparently kisses.

To Dean’s simultaneous horror and delight, Cas doesn’t relinquish any control; he won’t be moved, his hands get tighter and hotter where they touch Dean’s skin, he only presses them harder together, and he kisses Dean like he wants to eat him alive.

He kisses Dean like he wants to crawl inside him, like he’s hungry - starved - like kissing is an act of carnage just as much as an act of love, like those things aren’t mutually exclusive.

He’d rather die than admit it to anyone, but Dean’s knees get a little weak, and Cas basically holds up his entire weight by just the grip he’s got on Dean’s waist.

Before he knows it’s happened, Dean’s hard enough to carve stone, and Cas readjusts how they’re slotted against one another to better accommodate Dean’s failing balance, and Cas feels it - he must. Even if he doesn’t feel how hard Dean is against him right away, the guttural moan Dean will deny having made til his dying breath clues him in.

What sounds like hundreds of cherry bombs going off has them stumbling away from each other, and frantically looking about.

The streetlights have exploded. There’s glass everywhere, and based on the echoes of car alarms and distant voices, it’s becoming more and more possible that Cas destroyed the windows and lights of several cars and nearby homes.

Even he and Sam’s flashlights are busted.

In the blanket of darkness that’s settled over the graveyard, Dean can still see clearly, because Cas’ eyes are high beams cutting through the fog of the night.

They’re both panting, Dean’s pretty certain that a resting heart rate isn’t meant to feel like this, and Cas is looking positively feral.

“Jesus fuck!” Sam curses, his arms crossed over his head where he still plucks a shard of glass from his hair.

Reminded of Sam’s presence, Castiel’s head swivels to him, the glow of his eyes dims down, and then he looks back at Dean, visibly frightened.

Dean takes no pleasure in Cas ever being scared, so he reaches out, takes a step back into Cas’ space, but that spooks him more, and in less than a blink of an eye, he’s gone.

Not cool, Cas, Dean thinks loudly, hoping it counts as a prayer that Cas will hear.

Reaching into the front of his jeans, Dean uses the near blackness of the power outage to his advantage, and readjusts himself to the best of his abilities.

It really doesn’t do much.

“Well,” Sam starts pointedly.

Dean, weak at the knees, lips criminally swollen, face flushed, hair mussed and harder than he’s ever been in his life, turns slowly to scowl at Sam.

“That was not nothing.”

Dean doesn’t see a way of winning the argument, so he kicks dirt into Sam’s hair, and leaves him to finish burying.

[the-insomniac-emporium]

Bound Blood (Cassandra Dimitrescu/Reader, Soulmate AU) Pt. 5.5 Bonus

Fandom: Resident Evil: Village Rating: T+ for language Warnings: None Summary: Local feral human spends some time with their new family. Four short bits featuring Daphne (Maiden OC), Bela, Lady D, Daniela, and a surprise guest. Enjoy. Previous Chapters: 1: Sharing Is (Not) Caring; 2: Bloodbath, Baby!, 3: Haunt Me Dearly, 4: Portraits For Ghosts, 5: Heart Of The Matter

5.5: Family

i.

“Wait, you’re telling me that you came here willingly?” You asked, mouth agape, eyes wide. It felt like every time you talked to Daphne she had something incredible to say. Which was, of course, why she was your favorite maiden to talk to. That, and the fact that she had adapted so quickly to your ‘charming personality’. So far she was the only servant you had been willing to be honest with. Mainly about your feelings regarding your blood bond, but also just about your relationship with Cassandra in general. Something about Daphne simply made her incredibly approachable. From what you had heard, you weren’t the only one to think as such, with her being fairly popular among the castle workers.

“More of us do than you might expect. Some consider it an honor to serve one of the four Lords, and Castle Dimitrescu is certainly… nicer than either the factory or the reservoir. Personally, I came here for a friend of mine. She, well, had less of a choice. I couldn’t bear the thought of her being here without knowing anyone, so it felt like I only had one option. Can’t say I regret my decision, if you can believe it,” Daphne explained, folding laundry all the while. At the same time, you carefully sort through the not yet washed clothing, separating them into two baskets. After all, you wouldn’t want Lady Dimitrescu to end up with a pink dress! Technically this wasn’t your job, nor did you have a job at all, but you hated having idle hands- especially when talking to someone who was working. At first Daphne had protested, but she had given in upon realizing just how stubborn you could be.

“That’s… impressive. I mean, holy shit, that's a real ride or die friendship right there. Is she, uh, is your friend still, you know, around?” You stuttered, cursing your tongue for asking such a thing. If the answer was no, you were going to feel like a real asshole. Which, admittedly, you had a tendency to be. But this wasn’t one of the times where it was intentional. Thankfully, Daphne is all smiles, and even seems amused by your spluttering.

“Yes, we’re even roommates. Well, us and five others. Possibly with a sixth one on the way, if we ever get someone to fill the empty space,” she replies, pausing to think. Then she’s back to work, refusing to waste any time. “Speaking of roommates… I know I said I’m not one for gossip, and I meant it, but a little songbird told me that Cassandra seems to be in a much better mood these days. Are the two of you, well, getting along? It would be nice to know that soulmates can overcome even the roughest of introductions.” There’s a hint of something odd in her tone, and you take a moment to wonder what she’s (unintentionally) hinting at. Had she met her soulmate, only for things to go poorly?... Before answering her, you make a mental note, deciding to see if any of the other maidens had a scar across their nose.

“It’s not like she and I are dating or anything. We’re just, you know, not hating each other. Currently,” you said, shrugging. But Daphne raises an eyebrow at you, and you find yourself instinctively feeling guilty, somehow feeling small next to the shortest person you knew. “Alright, alright, we might have… Okay we kissed. And promised each other not to die, because having your soulmate die hurts like hell. Also maybe she showed me her mom’s art collection and I made a joke about the titty sculptures because holy shit, this house has a lot of titties.” At this, Daphne bursts into laughter, grinning from ear to ear.

“Amen to that, for sure.”

ii.

“So… fan of science, I see,” you say, awkwardly, bouncing a little on your heels. Next to you is the eldest Dimitrescu daughter, who had unexpectedly joined your table in the library. There were several other places she could have sat, with both more comfortable seating and more workspace, but for some reason she had chosen here. So far she hadn’t said a word. Hell, you hadn’t spoken to her since your first meeting, where she had suggested killing you. Naturally, you weren’t quite sure what to make of her. Something told you that she felt much the same about yourself.

“Fan of oversimplification, I see,” Bela counters, after a few tense seconds. Then she sets down her book- a heavy text about Romanian avian fauna- to give you her full attention. “It would be more accurate to say that I enjoy studying biology, particularly the branch of zoology.” Well, this conversation was certainly… happening. Honestly, you couldn’t tell whether she was legitimately judging you, or merely chaffing you for her own amusement.

“You’ll have to, er, forgive me for being overly broad. Consider it a side effect of my nerves, those themselves being due to our unsavory introduction. In case you don’t recall, you put that sickle of yours into my shoulder,” you reminded, with a sarcastic smile. To your surprise, Bela chuckles at this, almost as if fondly remembering the incident. Seriously, you think, why did my soulmate have to be from this family?

“Staying silent was an option. Perhaps that would have suited you better?” Bela says, now clearly teasing, smile much more genuine than your own. Knowing she had a point, you’re quick to blush, mildly embarrassed.

“Touche. I am curious, however, why you decided to sit next to me in the first place. I certainly wouldn’t have tried starting a conversation if you hadn’t,” you explained.

“Like I said… I enjoy studying zoology,” Bela replies, with a sly grin. It takes you a few moments to understand the intended implications. Once you do, however, you’re giving her a hard stare. Then you scoot your chair a few inches away from her, in exaggerated movements. “Don’t worry, I was only joking. Though you certainly are an interesting human. Much more, hmm, cheeky? Compared to the servants, at least.”

“Somehow I get the feeling that they simply prefer being alive, as opposed to not being as snippy. Except maybe Daphne, now that I think about it. Very sweet, that one,” you muse. “Regardless, I think I’ll return to my book now, for it lacks a tongue, and is therefore less likely to taunt me.” Doing just as you had said, you open the book, holding it a bit higher than what would be comfortable, so that it becomes a ‘shield’ of sorts. Nothing was quite as satisfying as subtle body language.

Accepting your words with a shrug, Bela also resumes reading, turning to a bookmarked page. Roughly an hour of relative quiet passes. Neither of you so much as glance at each other, not even when she drops the pen she had been taking notes with. In the end, you are the one who leaves first, and finally the silence is broken. You give your goodbyes, and Bela returns them politely. Though you do not know it, she sets her book down as soon as you leave, pausing to think about you. Now that things had ‘calmed down’, it was reassuring for her to know that you weren’t always full of spite. Still, you held onto your cleverness (for the most part), leaving her with no doubt about the universe’s decision. You were her sister’s soulmate.

iii.

“It’s official: I’m lost in a creepy castle. The universe hates me. Probably should have realized that sooner, considering how it decided to introduce me to my soulmate,” you mutter, scowling deeply, as you wander unfamiliar halls. How had you even gotten lost? Sure, you had taken a wrong turn, but it hadn’t taken long for you to realize your mistake! Evidently you somehow managed to make another one while backtracking. Now you were standing in the center of the corridor, hands on your hips, desperate for some maiden to come rescue you. What you really didn’t want was Cassandra to find you, because she’d make fun of you for the rest of your life. It’s not like she had specifically joked about you getting lost before. Except that was exactly what had happened.

A few minutes pass uneventfully. There aren’t even any distant sounds of life; no footsteps, nor echoing voices, nor the squeaking of floorboards. All you can hear is your own breathing. As well as the occasional sigh, admittedly. By this point, there’s a part of you that’s starting to panic. After all, there was a chance that the castle was big enough for certain sections to be abandoned. Hopefully that’s not the case, you think, I mean, they’d cut the power to those parts, right? Here’s hoping… With that in mind, you get back to wandering, figuring that you’d have to eventually run into a familiar landmark. Or better yet, someone who actually knew the castle’s layout.

When salvation at last reveals its holy visage, it is not in the form of a lowly servant, rather the muffled voice of none other than Lady Dimitrescu herself. Neither her exact words nor who she’s speaking to is clear. At first, you can’t even tell where her voice is coming from, but you quickly approach one closed door, then another, searching for the source. Several doors later you’re certain you’ve found her. By then you can tell that she’s not alone. Not wanting to seem rude by interrupting, you take a few steps back, leaning against the wall to wait. For the most part you still cannot make out what’s being said, but a few words do reach your ears.

“-expected more from you. How am I-” the voice gets cut off, not by Alcina, rather a sudden gust of air, akin to massive wings flapping. When the speaker continues, they are both louder and angrier. “Someone is listening. Have you not taken steps to ensure our privacy?” Then the door is swinging open, revealing your soulmate’s mother. At first she’s practically shaking with rage, but her expression turns to shock when she sees you.

“What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be with Cassandra?” Lady Dimitrescu asks, clearly stressed, as she steps into the corridor. There’s movement behind her, although you cannot make out any details. Besides, you’re quick to answer her, wishing to avoid her wrath (and that of whoever she was speaking to).

“I’m so sorry, Lady Dimitrescu, I was walking from the dining hall to Cassandra’s studio, and I took a wrong turn. I’ve been wandering for half an hour now. When I heard your voice, I thought perhaps I could, well, enlist your assistance. But you were busy, so I figured I’d wait outside. If I had-...” you pause, gulping, as the other figure steps into view. It’s a face you’re all too familiar with. One that popped up countless times through the village, and again throughout the castle, the owner’s name always spoken with acclaim, with worship. Mother Miranda, in the flesh, wings spreading out behind her, somehow cutting a more impressive silhouette than even Lady Dimitrescu. Instantly you’re falling to your knees, knowing that your sharp tongue was no match for this practical goddess.

“Who is this, Dimitrescu? Why isn’t their blood staining your claws?” Miranda questions, gaze never leaving your trembling form.

“This… this is one of my daughters’ soulmates. They were brought in with the last group of sacrifices,” Lady Dimitrescu explains, uncharacteristically hesitant. ‘Twas a true testament to Miranda’s power, as well as her influence, that she could make someone so powerful seem so weak. Which was exactly why you were shaking with anxiety. But to your surprise, the goddess does not immediately order your execution for your trespass.

“And already they know their place, hmm? Kneeling before me?” Miranda says, a strange smile dancing on her lips. Whatever anger she had been feeling a minute prior had faded, though you couldn’t even begin to guess as to why. Regardless, both Alcina and yourself are quite relieved, though neither of you are quick to show it. “Either they have a good head on their shoulders, or you still take care of some of your duties. Very well, they may live. For now. But I expect next week’s report to be far more favorable. I don’t need to remind you of the price for failing me.” With that said, Mother Miranda turned to leave, a swirling mass of dark feathers flying past you.

A minute passes, maybe two, before either of you feel capable of speaking up.

“Let’s get you back where you belong, yes?” Lady Dimitrescu says, quietly, before placing her hand on your shoulder to guide you. Tension hangs clear and heavy over both of you. Even as you walk down corridor after corridor, the feeling does not ease. At least not until you’re back in familiar territory, near where you had originally made your mistake, finally able to breathe a little. It’s here that Lady Dimitrescu pauses to speak once more. “Tomorrow I will assign one of the servants to give you a tour, in the hopes that this does not happen again. Furthermore, I ask that you forget everything you heard earlier, for it is neither your business… or my daughter’s.” You’re quick to nod, and with that she bids you farewell, leaving you alone. Now, you think, was it left from here, or right?

iv.

“I’m just going for a walk. Why do you care so much? It’s not like it’s any of your business,” Daniela assures you, despite the fact that all you had done was say ‘hello’. If this was her attempt at casting aside suspicion, she had done a terrible job of it. What made her so nervous? Was it even worth investigating? Only one way to find out.

“You’re rather bundled up, planning on being out for long?” You ask, trying to sound casual, leaning against the wall as you did. In response, Daniela pretty much stomps her foot. There’s something odd in her expression, however, that implies your question hit a soft spot. Certainly wasn’t what you had expected. “Don’t mind me, just trying to make conversation with my soulmate’s sister. Speaking of her… have you seen Cassandra? Is she, perhaps, going with you?” A little misdirection never hurt anyone. Probably.

“No!” Daniela replies, fast as a gunshot, too much emphasis to be unintentional. But she realizes her mistake as soon as she’s made it, and makes a clear effort to relax herself. “She’s probably in her studio, doing whatever it is she calls art, on the other end of the house. Besides, I don’t want any company for this walk.” For a moment you merely squint at her, unsure of how to proceed. In the end, you decide that it really is none of your business, being more than satisfied by what teasing you’ve already done.

“Alright, alright. Well then, I’ll leave you be. Just… be careful, yeah? If you get hurt, and your mother finds out that I didn’t stop you from going… not sure Cassandra could save me,” you say, with a shrug. At first Daniela can’t decide whether to be upset or relieved, but she seemingly settles for the latter, giving you a brief nod before heading outside. As the door shut behind her, you couldn’t help but wonder if you had done the right thing.

[psychewritesbs]

Chapter 159: Justice is blind + Foreshadowing from chapter 6 and JJK0?

This chapter we’re introduced to Higuruma, one of the players in the Culling Game with 100 points who Yuji and Megumi will most likely target in an attempt to add new rules to the game. 

As I mentioned before, JJK is the equivalent of Murphy’s Law on steroids and we are guaranteed for Gege to pull the rug from under our feet. For all you know, the odds that Higuruma agrees to help them without a problem are 50/50.

Onto this week’s theories... This is a long one so brace yourself.

Higuruma’s Shikigami is the stuff of nightmares

Higuruma’s Shikigami, if that’s what it is, is loaded with symbolism. Perfect for my Cursed Technique of reading between the lines and over-thinking every single detail.

What I love about Higuruma is that he is a man on a mission--sort of like a Shonen Protagonist. He is single-minded in his pursuit of saving those he sees as victims to the monster that is the Japanese legal court system.

Despite continuing to put himself on the line for the people he is trying to “save,” the oppressive system that they are part of makes it impossible for him to achieve his goals. And yet, he keeps trying to fight the beast that is the legal system even when the odds of him ever winning are .1%.

In the end, it isn’t the legal system itself that breaks him, but rather his own unwavering conviction combined with his frustration and the anger from those he promised a victory he was not able to deliver despite his greatest efforts.

The only thing granted to all is an unfair reality

Lady Justice has been depicted as blind since the 16th century. Her blindfold is meant to represent her objectivity and impartiality before the law.

But Higuruma knows that a 99.9% conviction rate is anything but objective and impartial. Keeping his “eyes open” is his desire to bring awareness to a system that is broken.

What I found interesting, however, is that while Higuruma is intent on keeping his eyes open, his Shikigami’s eyes are sewn shut, as though they are being forced shut by thread.

If there is anyone who is closest to embodying the ideal of blind justice, it is Higuruma.

This makes me wonder how we’re going to see Higuruma’s character evolve, especially as he comes across Yuji and friends.

Higuruma vs. Megumi/Yuji?

Remember I said Higuruma might be willing to help Yuji and Megumi add a rule? I don’t think that’s what’s going to happen, but it is still a possibility. He does seem like a fair (pun intended) person after all.

What’s being set up, I feel like (and I could be wrong), is a showdown between two opposing belief systems: 

Higuruma’s blind trust in serving and facilitating justice vs Megumi’s self-serving justice.

Ironically, they both 

want to save good people, 

neither considers himself to be a hero, and 

their sense of justice is self-serving... they just have different criteria for what that means

Higuruma wants to facilitate justice for people who are innocent but are victims of the Japanese Law system. He’s done the research and he believes these people to be innocent and as having done nothing wrong. 

On the other hand, Megumi wants to facilitate justice for people he cares about no matter how potentially dangerous they are (and this last bit is really important). 

I realized recently that despite Sukuna having killed a lot of people during Shibuya, Megumi has not attempted to kill him since the Cursed Womb Arc. 

Remember, Megumi has said he’s responsible for those deaths since he was the one who saved Yuji.

In addition, not only does Megumi need Yuji’s strength to save Tsumiki, but I am going to go as far as saying that Megumi cares deeply for Yuji to the point he still doesn’t want him to die even after everything that has happened up to this point.

Which begs the question, how is Higuruma going to react to Yuji’s existence?

This brings me to the possible foreshadowing from all the way back in the Cursed Womb Arc and possibly even JJK0.

Foreshadowing from chapter 6 or Crack Theory?

When I first read the new chapter I was intrigued that one of the characters Higuruma is defending as an attorney has a similar backstory to Tadashi from back in chapter 6.

Although their face structure looks similar...

The circumstances are slightly different in that Tadashi’s case involved driving without a license and Higuruma’s client was drunk driving.

But if we’re willing to suspend judgement for a minute, this is important because, if it is, in fact, Tadashi he is referring to here, then this panel just goes to show that Gege foreshadows like a boss. 

And what if that girl who got ran over happens to be Rika from JJK0? 

There isn’t necessarily concrete evidence that Tadashi is the one who ran Rika over AND I would need to look at the timeline of events more closely, but if it IS the case... talk about butterfly effect in action.

But the foreshadowing doesn’t end there. Someone pointed out that in chapter 143, Megumi tells Yuji they aren’t heroes fighting for justice and that no one can truly ever judge JJS.

So... no one can judge sorcerers, unless judging is exactly what Higuruma has been doing to rack up points...

The fact that Higuruma has 100 points tells us he’s been on a killing rampage, and from everything we see him go through in the chapter and from that look on his face in the last panel, we should not be surprised that he’s gone off the deep end.

Honestly, characters who loose their shit (hello Feral Megumi) are one of my favorite things about JJK.

I am writing all of this because it goes to show that Gege does not show you anything in his story that doesn’t have meaning in the grander scheme of things. Which leaves room for interpretation about whether Saori and Yuko will have roles moving forward.

Right along these lines, in looking for a specific line from chapter 9, I ran into this little gem:

Is this foreshadowing about Tsumiki too? 

Maybe, maybe not.

As I said before, half the fun is in going through the journey of JJK unfolding before our very own eyes, while putting the pieces together from all of the breadcrumbs Gege dropped along the way.

But the fun doesn’t end there. I am fascinated at how as a fandom we willingly get traumatized when Gege kills off everybody and their mom that you cared about, while simultaneously loving every single minute of it.

We know it’s coming, and we’re there for it.

That’s Gege’s Cursed Technique for you... he gives you what you didn’t know you wanted.

Gege setting up the stage for madness

All in all, Gege has been painstakingly setting the stage for the madness that is to come during the Culling Game and the hype just keeps on escalating. If the Culling Game arc is anything like Shibuya, we can expect, again, Murphy’s Law in full effect. 

I was chatting with @darthdutton​ about how I started reading the Shibuya Arc only a few months ago and therefore I did not get to experience it as it was unfolding. 

It makes me so happy that I now get to experience the Culling Game as it happens and I am both so distraught and excited for whatever comes our way.

And when I say “whatever comes our way” I mean that I trust Gege to continue to surprise me.

I am here for the hype but I stay for the story

I loved this chapter! 

I thought it was the f*cking bomb.com because you can see Gege starting to tie loose ends from possible foreshadowing he shared at the beginning of the story. 

Plus, we got to see his story-telling skills in action as he creates yet another relatable character.

I truly admire Gege as a writer--the fact that he can come up with a story on a week-to-week basis, execute on it, create very human and relatable characters, set up foreshadowing all the way back at the beginning, and drop breadcrumbs along the way is just mind-blowing to me.

God, I love Jujutsu Kaisen.

Anyways... this was a bit long but I just felt like I had a lot to say about this seemingly insignificant chapter. Hope you enjoyed it, and as always, I am looking forward to hearing your thoughts on it! 

[noodles-and-oodles]

Can I request Deuce, Floyd, Azul, & Malleus with a buff m!s/o 😳 the silent and strong type that will totally beat someone up for them 🙈🙈 how would they react to seeing him shirtless 👀 not sure if the last part is considered sexual but just in case I am a poor 19 yr old horny on main anon send help

LMAOOOOOOO mood 😩 and omg Anon your minndddd 👁 👄 👁 Thank you for stating your age anon I love you tenfold. Ty for requesting and I hope you enjoy!

~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~

Deuce Spade

Everyone and when I say everyone, I mean EVERYONE is wondering how Deuce managed to snag you as his boyfriend. You were a walking babe magnet while Deuce was just some guy that occasionally dropped cauldrons on people

If Deuce is ever insecure about the two of you being together, trust and believe his s/o will be quick to wash those doubts away. His s/o chose him for a reason, and Deuce wanted to believe in it so he tried to ease up a bit when thinking about such things

I can totally see the two of you kicking ass together/for each other. No one would ever even dare to try and hurt either of you because you’ll go feral on the perpetrator to protect one another (we stan bfs that kick ass)

You would also likely end up saving your boyfriend from trouble since whenever he and Ace are together, it seems to follow them like a shadow

Deuce is just a tad bit on the clumsy side so one day while you guys are hanging in your room, he accidentally spilled some of his drink on your shirt. While he’s rambling apologies and offering to clean it, you’re already shrugging the drenched article of clothing off and Deuce’s jaw slacked as his face turned darker than Riddle’s hair

Deuce didn’t know where to look…your toned arms? The six pack? Or maybe the pecks? His mind was raging a war and it’s amazing that he didn’t get a nosebleed or something

Not even realizing that Deuce was practically drooling, you were unfazed as you simply dug in your bag and grabbed the spare shirt from inside. When Deuce asks why you have a spare, you just elaborate that drinks being spilled on you is a little more common than one would think

Azul Ashengrotto

For someone who used to have body issues in the past, Azul may find some of his insecurities resurfacing in this relationship. He’s envious of your form but he also realizes that you must have worked pretty hard to obtain your current look

You’ll often find yourself reassuring Azul that you love him no matter how he looks, whether it be the present him or even the future him. You fell in love with him for his personality, the looks are just a bonus ;) Azul may deny that but deep down he’s super happy that your love for him is unconditional

It’s not news to anyone that Azul has a pretty shady reputation, but he’ll never have to worry about being in danger because although the twins are able to effectively scare off any threats, when people get word that the two of you are dating no one would even dare to think of getting back at Azul

Lift him up and you’ll get to see his entire body go red, all the way to the tips of his ears. The feeling of your chiseled body against his own will really throw him for a whirlwind and swirls would be apparent in his eyes

It’s when the two of you go swimming, Azul showing you his real form to you for the first time albeit extremely hesitant and you just strip your shirt and pants off without problem. Well, now Azul has a problem

How is he supposed to show you the great depths of the ocean when he can barely think straight?! Pile that on with the compliments you gift him on his true form, the octopus is pretty much boiling the water at that point

Floyd Leech

Floyd can appreciate the muscle and all, but he’d wish that at least one part of you was squishy, he’d totally say it’s uncomfortable to squeeze a rock or something along those lines. Though he will try and squeeze you a bit harder since he knows you’re capable of handling it

May try to make a competition out of you guys’ strength just cause he’s curious but bored at the same time. Arm wrestling, weight lifting, squeezing, etc. and sometimes you let Floyd win lol

I dare you to pick the eel up, his reaction would likely be downright hilarious. Not many people can nor has ever been able to lift him up so for you to do it so effortlessly may make the eel even more smitten with you. But now you’ll have Floyd randomly jumping into your arms and demanding you to carry him places

Floyd is a trouble magnet, the finest one there is out there and guess who has to deal with that? ;) you! So be ready to do some literal heavy lifting because more often than not you’ll have to drag the eel away from the crime scene with him over your shoulder

Seeing you shirtless wouldn’t really impress Floyd all that much, he comes from the Coral Sea where practically everyone is shirtless 24/7. If anything he’ll inquire as to where your shirt went and if it’s not a reason that interests him, he’ll just shrug it off

Malleus Draconia

While you hold physical strength, Malleus holds magical strength which makes you guys balance one another out nicely. Malleus is glad that his boyfriend can take care of himself, especially if he’s a human. It makes him rest easier knowing that you can handle yourself for the most part

Your boyfriend appreciates the fact that you would go to war fight for him but Malleus would never ask you to do such a thing. His magic is powerful enough to protect the both of you, so please don’t put yourself in harms way for him

Malleus may or may not be impressed by your physique, he certainly won’t complain about seeing it though that’s for sure. He may even tease and ask ‘is this all for me?’ while letting his fingers ghost over your abs-

It’s good if you’re protective but just remember that Malleus can be or may be even more protective than you are. A dragon protects his treasure with all he’s got after all~ Boyfriends that protecc, attacc, and snacc together stay together <3

[furiosophie]

maybe a little more oh the things we left behind epilogue fluff??? ;u; i know the entire epilogue was fluff but i am insatiable

yes very good thinking anon and sorry for the long wait my brain is just a heap of goo right now but here we go - some ottwlb fluff set between the Mandalorian war and the very last scene of the fic, a small compilation of how Din found the rest of their family:

oh the things we found

small TW for mentions of blood and trauma

Din doesn't in any way plan on becoming a magnet for Force-sensitive children, he really doesn't, but it happens regardless, something about his unique combination of Force-null beskar, Force-conduit darksaber, and Force-bond husband drawing them in like moths to a flame.

He finds Rey first, on a recon mission out to Jakku, casing a distress signal from a lost covert. She can't be any older than Ben, who is seven now and an absolute terror, but in comparison to him, she doesn't listen to Din one bit, her whole life just a series of defying the authority figures around her. She dangles from a rope above him, in the hollowed-out remains of an Imperial Star Destroyer, sticking out her tongue at him. "I'm not coming with you!" she declares while Din tries to position himself in a way that will allow him to catch her if she slips. "I'm waiting for my family. They're coming to get me!"

He doesn't have the heart to tell her no one in their right mind would ever willingly come back to a place like Jakku. He places all his rations, most of his credits, and, just for good measure, some bacta spray on the ground below her like he's making some offering to an ancient feral god and leaves with an ache in his chest.

"She won't come with me," he complains to Luke later, pacing up and down in the living area of the Mudhorn while Luke brews tea. They don't technically live in the Mudhorn anymore, have their own quarters in the ruins of Yavin's temple, but they always end up here regardless, whenever one of them comes back from a mission, whenever they need it to be just the two of them, away from everyone's worries.

Luke hands him a steaming cup and places a soft kiss on his temple. "Don't worry," he says, in that cryptic tone of his, the one he uses to tease Din when he's being daft about something that's impossible for him to know. "She will." And that's that.

Din goes back. Once, twice, three times, until the sparse crowd of locals looks at him with pity in their eyes. She does come with him eventually, after his eighths visit, when he draws the darksaber on a dune beast and turns around to find her looking at him with the type of recognition in her eyes that he's only ever seen in the way Luke looks at Ben and Grogu.

"She's like you," he accuses when Luke greets them at the bottom of the Mudhorn's ramp, Rey perched high on his shoulders, her arms wrapped around his helmet so tight it's hard for him to see. Luke just smiles and reaches out so Rey can tentatively take his hand. The change is instant - as soon as their palms touch her whole body relaxes as if something in her is finally at peace and Din has to reach up to keep her from sliding off his shoulders. And well. That's that.

Finn is next, standing tall in front of a group of terrified kids, in a backroom of the imperial laboratory they just raided, his eyes ablaze and lips turned up into a snarl. "I'll fight you," he snaps even as Din can see his hands shaking around the mop he fished out of the supply closet as a makeshift weapon. "I'm not scared, I'll fight you!" And really all Din can do in response is pull his helmet off and fall to his knees with his hands raised above his head.

It seems to work because he gets all of them into the Mudhorn eventually, Finn curled up on the copilot's seat, staring out in wonder at the endless expanse of space while the rest of the kids are rolled up into every available blanket in the captain's quarter. It's a bit of a rough start - where Rey felt turmoil because of the things swirling inside her without guidance, all Finn has ever known is supervision and people telling him to be something he's not, his connection to the Force tempered down in all the wrong places, too silent and too loud all at the same time, and in the first weeks, Din spends a lot of time hugging him close to the beskar plating of his chest, taking strolls under the quietness of Yavin's trees like he used to do with Ben. Finn quiets eventually, just as Rey did, the two of them getting on like a house on fire.

Shara is the one who brings Paige and Rose Tico, two sisters left stranded and alone by the still raging unrest of the remnants of war, and there is barely a discussion before she decides to take them in herself, the two of them glued to Poe the second they step off Shara's ship.

He finds Armitage last, standing over the dead body of an Imperial officer, blood on his hands and all across his face, just a sliver of yellow in the green of his eyes. Din has bruises on his arms for a week from how hard the kid strains against him as he tries to drag him out of the Star Destroyer before it self-destructs, but he figures, all things considered, they'll be able to handle that too.

He turns out to be a menace, of course, too smart for his own good, and way too stubborn to let Ben get away with his teasing, which always seems to end up Luke and Din having to physically drag them away from each other. Din tries to do for him what he did for everyone else, to hold him close and comfort him, but he only ever succeeds in the quiet of the night when he finds him at the very top of the temple wrapped up tightly in Luke's arms, both of them holding onto each other for dear life, eyes red-rimmed and cheeks tear-stained, darkness hanging around them like rain clouds.

Armitage takes a shine to Bo-Katan though, amidst all of his defiance, a fact that seems to confuse her as much as it does Din, and he knows that that will probably spell disaster in the future given how fast and feral Armitage takes to swinging a lightsaber, but to his relieve the Armorer steps up to pull him to her workshop by the back of his neck and balances the murder in his eyes with ever-evolving engineering challenges.

And so it takes a bit, quite a while in fact, but they find their balance eventually, their weird ever-growing family, all of them slotting into each other in a way that sometimes makes Din wonder if this was their doing too, Luke's and his, if in bending the universe around them, and in becoming one in the Force they somehow became a beacon for all those who are lost.

He wonders about it on the nights when, even after Han settles down on Yavin more or less permanently to be closer to Ben, and even after Paz bashfully asks to officially adopt Rey who's been glued to his shoulders for months, and even after Armitage makes it very clear that he doesn't plan to ever be adopted by anyone, Luke comes back from an excursion to find Din pilled into their bed with a bunch of wayward Foundlings.

"Sorry," Din mumbles sleepily as Luke steps over a snoring Paz who's taken up guard in the hallway, "It just happened."

"Is there room for one more?"

"Unlikely," Din sighs as he always does, but Luke finds a spot anyways, shuffling the kids around until they are just awake enough to demand a story from him.

"It's late," Luke smiles as Din pulls him closer to lean their foreheads together in greeting, Grogu climbing up from where he was tucked beneath Ben's chin to settle in between his dads. "I'll tell you all about it tomorrow."

"Just one!" Rey pleads from her spot at Din's side, Finn's head popping up behind her in a show of support and Luke raises a warning eyebrow as Poe and Rose scoot closer from where they were sprawled over Din's legs. "You always say we need to be curious about the world around us!"

"It will help us sleep," Armitage argues from his spot at the end of the bed, the one he takes to pretend he doesn't care about any of this, and starts scooting close too, shoving at Ben to make space.

"They make a good point," Din interjects gently and pulls Armitage out of the way and between them before Ben can get up enough to headbutt him with Din's helmet, which is a constant on his head on those nights where they all feel pulled towards each other.

"Traitor," Luke laughs, letting Armitage nestle in closer to him, but he'll tell them about his travels anyways until they are all knocked out and snoring peacefully and Din can press a quick kiss to Luke's lips without having to listen to a cascade of "ew" and "gross".

And so, in the end, he always drifts asleep knowing he doesn't fully understand it, not really, how they all manage to fit so perfectly into each other's lives, how he managed to find this, this place that is domestic in a way nothing in his life has ever been, but he figures he doesn't have to understand it, not when he also knows with absolute certainty that they are all exactly where they are supposed to be.

[everything-person]

Then Came You

A/N: This is my contribution to @cshistfic Historical Fic Event. This is my first time diving deep, just submerging myself into research to make sure I got my time period correct and I had a blast. Sometime I had too much fun and thankfully I had @spartanguard to push me off my high horse. Thank you @shireness-says for making this event and running it. Hopefully my entree is worthy enough. This fic is based in the 70’s and is inspired by Disney Pixar’s Cars. This may have up to 3 parts.

Summary: Rookie of the Year race car driver Killian Jones finds himself lost in a forgotten Storybrooke on his way to the finale race of the season. His world and perspective on what he wants gets turned upside down in the small town.

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxX

Where the fuck am I?

was Killian Jones, famous race car driver, first thought as he woke up. Well, first thought after he got over the throbbing pain in his skull. He sat up to see he was laying in a cot. Taking in his immediate surroundings, he realized he was behind bars. His head fell into his hands.

How did I get here?

He recalled being at Pocono in the Piston Cup series finale. He was named Rookie of the Year and was set up to be the first one to win. His only real competition was Ernest “the King'' Triton, Atlantica’s golden boy, who was planning on this being his last season, and Edward Teach, the King's tail biter. They weren’t expecting Killian to come out of nowhere and take the season by storm.

He was set to win it all, ahead by half a lap, checkered flag insight when a tire blew. He struggled but was able to keep control of his car. He could feel his competitors gaining on him as he lost speed. Such events caused a three-way tie, set to be settled in a week in Daytona.

He remembered the interviews asking about him driving without a crew chief; he always had an issue taking orders. The King came walking up to him.

“My man, you are one bad racer. You got more talent in that famous smile of yours than half these dudes got in their whole body but you’re stupid. Let me give you the lowdown: this ain’t a one-man show, young blood. You need to wise up, get yourself a good crew chief and a good team. You ain’t gonna win unless you got stellar people behind you doing their jobs so you can keep being the slammin’ driver you are.”

He thanked him for the advice before they were made to get on stage for the press. That's when Edward Teach decided to try to psyche him out.

“Listen space cadet, that was some fab drifting today. By me. He he he. First one at Daytona gets Atlantica all to themselves. Catch my drift?”

Then he went looking for his team, only to find out from Smee, his truck driver, that he had to make a personal appearance over at his sponsor's tent—Arendelle Chocolates, run by sisters Elsa and Anna Arendelle, most famous for the Apollo Bar.

“A taste that’s out of this world!”

He desperately wanted to get away from his sponsor. He didn’t care for sweets and frankly found most disgusting. He entered the tent to find the other reason he didn’t care for his current sponsor: children all running around with their grubby hands. The sight made him squirm, but Smee reminded him they gave him his big break and it was in his contract. With those inspiring words, he put on a smile, made his way to his sponsor sisters, said a few words that had the tent roaring in cheers before he said goodbye.

“Killian, that was stellar! We are so proud to call you our driver!”

“And we are looking forward to another fab year!”

“Don’t drive like my sister!”

“Yeah, don't drive like my sister!”

He and his crew got on the road not long after that. His crew were in the truck along with his car while he drove just behind them. While his crew pulled off to get some rest, he kept going to be the first at Daytona. But he kept nodding off and got lost.

He remembered pulling out his map to try and find out where he was. He tried to keep his car steady while trying to make out what his map said by moonlight, when he heard sirens. Looking up, he saw the lights of a town. Before he could think about pulling over the sirens were accompanied with sounds of loud popping. He assumed it was the officer firing at him. He tried to dodge the bullets but soon lost control of his car. He ran into quite a few things before gaining control again, only to get caught on something. He gunned it to get free, only to have his car spin out once he was. The last thing he remembered was something crashing into his driver side door effectively stopping his spin out and causing his head to slam into his window; then everything went black.

Groaning, he picked up his head taking another look around. He was on a cot, in a holding cell, in a dusty office. He was taking in the desks and filing cabinets, looking for signs of life, when he heard a voice.

“Well hi,” came an excited, high-pitched voice.

His head snapped back to one of the desks to see a boy he missed sitting just behind it.

“I was wondering when you were gonna wake up.”

Killians faced scrunched up, “What's going on? Why am I here?”

The boy laughed, “Like you don’t know. For being a spaz last night.”

“What's your name, lad?”

“Henry. What's your name?”

“You don’t know my name?” Killian asked, taken aback by the question.

“No; why should I know your name?”

“I’m Killian Jones.” He waited for the moptop boy to put the pieces together

“Killian Jones!” Henry shot up out of his seat as he exclaimed the name before falling back down. “Yeah, not ringing a bell.”

Killian furrowed his eyebrows, “Where am I?”

“Where are you? You’re in Storybrooke, the most rockin’ town on the Potomac River.”

Killian sighed, dropping his head, bringing his hand up rubbing at his forehead. “Great. Just great.”

“Well if you like this place, you should see the rest of the town.”

Killian picked up his head, looking at the brown-eyed boy and spied just behind him the keys to his cage. Focusing back on the boy, he smiled and stood up from his spot on the cot.

“You know, that's a brilliant idea. I’d love to see the rest of your town. If you just let me out of here, we could go cruisin’ the town.” Killian finished his thought as he came leaning against the bars.

“Golly! Really?” Henry sat up straighter with a bright smile that slowly turned into a smirk, “You think you can psyche me out. I’m ten, not stupid.”

“Henry!” a new voice shouted out.

In walked a man sporting a perm and mustache wearing a star at his hip.

“What have you been told about being in here with criminals?”

Henry sighed, “Not without supervision. But he was sleeping.”

The man crossed his arms, letting out a huff, “Well now he’s awake. Want to help me escort him to court?”

The next thing Killian knew, he was in chains and being placed in the back of a cop car. After a short ride, he was hauled out and guided into Town Hall where he was met with shouting and very angry townspeople. He was placed in a chair.

“Oi mate,” Killian looked up at the sheriff, “I gotta skitty. How long is this gonna take?”

The sheriff, Robin read his name tag, crossed his arms, “Do you have a lawyer?”

Killian scoffed, “Aye, but he's probably in Hawaii right now.”

“If the defendant doesn’t have representation, the court will assign one to him.” Robin turned to the crowd behind him bringing his fingers to his lips, letting out a shrieking whistle. “Anyone want to be his lawyer?”

The room went silent.

“I’ll do it,” a familiar voice broke the silence.

Killian turned to see the boy from before trotting up to the gate. Robin quirked an eyebrow at him.

“What? It's not hard.”

“Hmm, alright,” Robin agreed, letting the boy take the seat next to Killian.

Killian looked between the two before landing his gaze on the sheriff.

“Are you serious?”

“Well, our normal defense is at the vet after you clipped his dog last night,” Robin informed him before speaking to the room, “All rise! Honorable Judge Nolan presiding.”

Everyone stood as the sound of a door opening and closing was heard. Heavy footsteps rang out in the silence.

“I want to know who is responsible for wrecking my town. I want his ass on a silver platter. I’m gonna put him in jail until he rots. No, until the jail rots on top of him then I’ll put him in another jail and wait until that one rots. I—”

The man's rants came to a halt as he laid his eyes on the accused. “Get him out of here, sheriff. I want him out of my courtroom and out of my town. Case dismissed; charges dropped.”

Killian let out a breathy laugh, “Woah. You were a better lawyer than I thought, youngblood.”

“Sorry I’m late, Your Honor.”

Killian turned to see a stunning blonde woman come strutting in.

“Bloody hell,” Killian whispered under his breath. He thought the sheriff must’ve found his agent's number and gave him a call. This must be who they sent from his attorney’s office.

As she was walking by, Killian spoke up, “Hello, love. Thank you for coming but we are all set. He’s dropped the charges.”

She stopped and turned to him, her eyes darting to the boy next to him. “What?”

“Aye, we got off lucky. Now all we have to do is speed on down to Florida.”

“Please.”

“I get that a lot. I create feelings in people they themselves don't understand.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Right. Well I’m gonna go talk to the judge.”

“Whatever you gotta do, love. Do be careful though. These cats are a bit feral.”

She pursed her lips, nodding before turning her attention to the smiling child next to him, “Hi, Henry.”

“Hello.”

Killian looked at the boy before looking back at the blonde, who had turned to the crowd behind him.

“Morning everyone,” she called out, receiving greetings in response. She turned, eyeing Killian as she did, before she walked up to the judges stand who was intensely looking at his papers.

“David, you're looking well. Your sideburns are—”

“Forget it, Emma. I already dismissed the case,” he said, not looking up at her.

“He endangered most of the town and destroyed half of it. You can’t just let him go.”

“We are better off with him gone.”

Emma huffed, “Alright; you asked for it.”

Emma turned and addressed the room, “I move for an appeal. Robin, if you will help me escort the accused to the Mayor.”

Robin assisted Killian out of the chair. They followed the woman down the hall and up the stairs. Killian would protest but the walk was giving him a great view of the blonde’s ass.

As they came to a door labeled Mayor, Robin leaned over and whispered to Killian, “May the mayor have mercy on your soul.”

Before Killian could question or even look at the man he was being ushered into a black and white room.

“Ms. Swan, why are you barging into my office?” A woman sitting behind the desk in the middle of the office asked, not bothering to look up at the intruders.

“Judge Nolan ruled to dismiss the charges against our drunk driver—”

“I wasn’t drunk,” Killian interrupted.

“And I moved for an appeal. I thought the sooner the better,” Emma continued.

The woman finally looked up to see Emma standing in front of her desk before her eyes darted to Sheriff Robin, and Judge Nolan standing just behind her with Killian standing in between them.

“What are the charges?”

“Reckless driving, reckless endangerment, trespassing, vandalism, and destruction of property.”

“Why did you dismiss the case?” The woman directed the question to Judge Nolan.

He stepped forward standing next to Emma. “Madame Mayor, what happened last night was a terrible occurrence but I believe the longer this man stays, the more trouble will come.”

“Based on what?”

“I know the kind of man he is. I can see it in his eyes. He’s the last thing this town needs.”

“We let this guy walk, it sends a message to every delinquent in town that you can do whatever you want. The town needs to be fixed—they need this,” Emma stated.

“I think the sheriff's station’s reputation will precede this incident. We are fine without him,” Judge Nolan responds.

The mayor turned to Emma. “What do you suggest the sentence should be if I agree to your appeal?”

“Make an example of him. Give him community service, make him fix everything he can that he broke. Whatever he can’t, fine him for; by the looks of his clothes, he can afford it.”

The mayor sat back looking between the man and woman in front of her.

“Sheriff,” she called, “What say you? Should I let this man go to avoid further disturbance, or have him fix the town?”

“Well, I think the town needs renovation more than it needs to avoid trouble. In fact, I think we could benefit from some,” Robin eloquently answered.

The mayor nodded, standing from her seat, “I’m inclined to agree. The accused is sentenced to community service until everything that was damaged from last night's events is fixed and a fine of six hundred dollars for reckless driving and endangerment.”

Killian’s eyebrows nearly shot off his forehead. He went from walking away scot-free to becoming this town’s new handyman along with being fined six hundred dollars.

The mayor took her seat once again stating, “You are all dismissed.”

Emma turned around with a satisfied smile plastered on her face. “Looks like Florida is gonna have to wait.”

[irritatedandroid]

Navigating The Otherkin Community With Two Robots - Othercon 2021

Panelists: Polybius and Jasper

Panel Video Link: https://youtu.be/xQ21aj1Jjys

Answers to the Q+A Submissions are below the cut.

1. Z asked just Jasper “What are some of those axes besides animality that you can view nonhumanity from?”

I’ll be wholly honest with you Z, I don’t think I’ll ever be capable of putting a number on how many different axes there are, as it is about as unclear as how many species someone can identify as spanning across myth, earth, fiction, our universe, and beyond. Even details among the “similar species”-identifying folks can be different in terms of the angle they experience humanity and/or nonhumanity from, as a very feral dragon may have a totally different view as a very sapient dragon. Even among animality itself there’s many different axes, as I’m sure a tiger stalking someone through the shadows views humanity differently than the spider in the bathroom that’s about to be torched with some hairspray and a lighter. Alien-hood may be a family of axes, but of course even that is varied. 

The axis I view humanity from as a machine is specific to my own experience, and will likely be different from other machines and even other androids, as purposes can be different. Pokemanity is a term I’ve seen used similar to animality as well, and I could see that as being a sort of family or cluster of angles at which varied Pokemon could view humanity. 

Apologies for the confusing sort of non-answer, my point is essentially that this is all over the place, and oversimplifying as many folks who wish to force others into rigid boxes leads to a chaotic mess, and not the good kind of chaotic. - Jasper

2. Omega Quack asked just Polybius “Have you found anyways to get kin euphoria for your AI and Robotkin?”

Hi, Quack! Yeah, otherkin euphoria in terms of being a machine can be really tricky tbh. I get a lot of dysphoria when I think too hard about what my physical vessel is composed of. I don't like thinking about having organs in my body, despite finding them fascinating from a scientific perspective. Euphoria comes to me through both artistic means [digital painting, dancing, positive media about both real and fictional robots (including both music and historical documentation)] and through indulgence in my fascination with tech and video game history. I will talk to anyone literally for hours about failed gaming consoles and things the like of laserdisc. - Poly

3. Admin (from The Corvidae Collective) asked whoever has an answer “I find that my other aspects of identity are very closely linked to my being an A.I. in interesting ways, like how we as neurodivergent people often process the world and how that influences or is influenced by my being an A.I. Do either of you have thoughts or similar experiences?”

Hello Admin! Your name did give me a good chuckle- thanks for that. I find that my being a machine makes understanding my world maybe a bit confusing. I struggle with human facial expressions as well as detecting jokes and sarcasm. I am also autistic, and often people think it's just because of my autism- but I feel like I understand these things more outside of a robot shift than within one, especially if it's a mental shift! I become rather monotone and I don't really think about it. - Poly

I do have some similar experiences. I’m not diagnosed as autistic, but myself and my doctor have been exploring the possibility as I’ve started to realize how many traits and symptoms I relate heavily to and experience. I’ve pondered a fair bit on the relation between my experience of neurodivergence and my experience of being an android, and I think there may be a fair bit of overlap, but trying to sort which is which has definitely been something on the backburner for me with how busy my life and work is at the moment. - Jasper

4. Omega Quack asked both “Was it like to interact with other Robotkins?”

It can be a wild ride if you ask me. In the realm of robotkin you find everything from fictionkin of robot characters that are entirely human-like in personality to machines that only knew what they were coded to do to literally singular computer programs. In the case of the franchise Tron, a blend of these in one "species". Machinekin can be just as diverse as other nonhuman groups. Like Jasper said in the panel, a wolf therian probably has more in common with a lycanroc fictherian than they do with maybe a dragonfly therian or something else unlike a wolf. I have more in common with humanoid robots, CRT televisions and arcade cabinets than I would with I guess a roomba or a tow truck. On that note, I wonder if dog therians would get along with machinekin that are those Aibo robots Sony builds. - Poly

Admittedly I haven’t had much experience with other robotkin folks aside from Polybius, a couple of Cybertronian friends and maybe a few scattered others. I’ve spent time in a machinekin group but found myself mostly hanging around with non-robot or non-AI machinekin - a friend who I’ve taken a lot of support and inspiration from is a sound mixing console. I find I relate to some robotkind, and some not so much. I don’t have much in common with robots such as Cybertronians other than the occasional dysphoria towards being organic. But my experience as a robot ties in so strongly to being a human-created being, it can be difficult for me to relate. - Jasper

5. Anonymous asked whoever has an answer “Do you have a hearthome?”

Oh you betcha. One of my fictotypes is a merged form of Tron and Rinzler [who canonically share a body] from Tron: Legacy. As a result my hearthome is The Grid. I miss the blue glow and the taste of energy. I don't exactly miss the war or being rectified though. Not a happy place, in retrospect. - Poly

I myself don’t, sorry to say. The closest I could say would be either the city I have lived in and out of for the past few years, or the Pokemon world - though I don’t consider that a hearthome as I know my longing for it comes from my fictionkind experiences. - Jasper

[lupismaris]

For the requests silver flint Hamilton adopting a cat?

(aahh i loved this thank you!!! it got a bit long so I’ve put most of it under a readmore but I hope you like it!)

Silverflintham in my general modern au.

******

“What’s this?” Silver asked, digging through the grocery bags that now littered the kitchen counter.

Flint was busy sorting through the day’s mail, tortoise shell reading glasses perched on his nose, brow furrowed as he read over a dinner invitation for himself and Thomas.

“What’s what?” he asked, tossing aside the invite and shuffling through bills.

Silver rolled his eyes and slid the stack of high end tins of cat food across the counter until it was in Flint’s line of sight. He knew that if he went down to the first floor he’d find a large bag of high end kibble to match, likely resting by the patio door.

Flint looked up, saw the cans, and snatched them off the counter. “Nothing. Just- for the shelter-“ he muttered as his ears started to burn.

“The shelter you send a check to once a month and whenever they ask?” Silver clarified, perching himself on the edge of the bar as Flint tucked the cans of food in the back of a cupboard. “That shelter?”

Flint scowled at him. “Yes for that shelter, they put out fliers asking for supplies alright? Figured I’d drop some off on my way to work tomorrow,” he snapped. There was very little bite to it, it was rare that Flint ever truly got annoyed with him.

“And it’s not for the slowly growing cat colony you totally aren’t feeding out in the alley each night?” Silver asked in a sweet voice.

He’d known about the stray cats in the neighborhood almost from the beginning of his relationship with Flint, how he’d keep a bag of food at the bar in case any of them came to the kitchen door, how according to Gates he’d managed to trap a few and get them to a rescue. He hadn’t found out about Flint’s unofficial colony of strays, however, until he had moved in. At present Silver guessed it was only a handful, four or five adult cats who were either content being feral or just waiting for the right home.

Flint liked to think he was subtle, that he wasn’t so obviously sneaking out each night before bed to leave food and water in the alley, to make sure the little cat boxes another neighbor had built were in tact. Silver let him believe it, though he couldn’t be sure whether or not Thomas knew about his husband’s unbearably endearing hobby.

Silver laughed softly at the flustered and indignant look on Flint’s face, the flush in his cheeks making his freckles turn ruddy. He reached for his hand. Flint took it without hesitation.

“It’s kitten season,” he said softly, not meeting Silver’s eye, “and that always means a few more strays on the streets. The little ones need different food, more calories so they put on the proper weight. That’s all.”

Of course Flint would be thinking about the kittens. Of course. God Silver had fallen in love with a truly ridiculous, wonderful man.

“I’m only teasing. You’re awful sweet,” he said, pulling Flint in for a kiss. It was enough to soothe Flint’s bristly demeanor, though he was still a bit flustered when he pulled away with a muttered ‘am not.’

Silver hooked his arms around Flint’s middle and tucked his face into his neck, purring slightly when Flint leaned into him and went back to sorting the mail. “You are. Don’t worry I won’t tell anyone. Your husband might though.”

Flint huffed a laughed and kissed Silver’s curls. “Oh without a doubt. Speaking of, he home yet?”

Home, that was still taking some getting used to.

“No but he did say he’d be a bit late today, last minute student meetings or something.” Silver said against Flint’s throat, pausing to mouth a bit at the hinge of his jaw. He could feel the vibration of Flint’s soft rumble of content and he nipped the soft skin below his ear.

“Well dinner won’t take long, I can fridge the duck for now, wait till it’s closer to supper time.” Flint’s voice held a note of mischief to it. “I’m sure we can think of something to entertain us in the mean time.”

Silver smiled against Flint’s throat, lifting his head to kiss him. “Oh I have a few ideas.”

Flint chuckled into the kiss, pulling back despite Silver’s whine of protest. “I’m sure you do. Help me finish the chores, pup, and you can tell me just what kind of ideas you have hm?”

As if Silver could say no to Flint, in his reading glasses and half buttoned shirt, his hair pulled back in a messy bun so the well trimmed undercut was visible.

They got the groceries put away, the ingredients for dinner prepped and stowed in the fridge, the duck legs braising in the oven, and when Silver thought he’d finally be able to get Flint at least to the sofa to make out like twenty year olds, Flint instead asked him to follow him down to the garden.

He took Silver out to see where he left the food for the cats, no longer keeping up the old pretenses that he was keeping it secret. Three of the cats were lingering in the alley when they stepped out of the back gate, a big black bruiser of a cat with a clipped ear and a few scars on his muzzle. He didn’t like silver one bit but he went right up to Flint as if greeting an old and cherished friend. The other two were younger, long haired domestics Silver would’ve guessed.

“Those two are brothers I think,” Flint told him, as the one with a white belly and rusty brown spots came over to inspect Silver, the other with tabby markings watching warily. “They’re new, oddly friendly, which means they likely had a home first.”

“Poor things,” Silver murmured, letting the two cats inspect his hands. He noted that they didn’t have their ears tagged. “Are they much younger than the others?”

“Probably only a year or so old, I’d guess. I was waiting for them to get a bit bigger before trying to take them to a rescue, so they can get fixed and all their shots and stuff. I could trap them rather easily I think but the closest shelter is overwhelmed right now.”

Silver nodded, setting out a bowl of food for them to share. “This explains all those random scratches you keep coming home with,” he said flatly, relishing the way it made Flint laugh.

Half an hour passed and Bruiser, as Silver now called him, trotted off to do whatever it was stray cats did. The brothers were happily playing with each other, tumbling and rough housing down the alley.

“You know, I’m surprised you haven’t just…” Silver mulled over his words as he and Flint went back inside, pulling the garden gate closed behind him. He was too focused on Flint, and his own thoughts, to double check if the latch had caught properly.

“Brought them inside?” Flint offered.

“Yeah. I’ve only just met them and I find myself considering how to convince Thomas we should adopt them. Well, I dunno if Bruiser wants to be adopted but the others-“

Flint shrugged, leading the way up the back stairs to the deck that extended from the back of the kitchen, leaving the glass door cracked a little to let in the cooler evening air. “Between you and me, Bruiser is about a week away from being adopted by the little old lady on the next block. I was seeing him less and less and got worried but it turns out shes got a whole set up for him. I’m sure it won’t be long before she gets him inside and he refuses to leave. The others though… I dunno I guess I’ve always had strays and never an actual cat. We had them back in Padstow, and in Camden, in Manhattan, and even when I was stationed abroad. There were always strays.”

Silver considered him, following Flint into the kitchen and again perching himself on the bar. “You knew how to take care of strays but the concept of being their forever home scared you.”

It took a moment for Flint to reply. Silver watched him roll up his sleeves, tattoos vibrant in the golden hour light that filled the kitchen. He watched as he washed his hands, pulled out the prepared ingredients for the duck sauvage and rabe he was making, and set to work.

“I never felt stable enough to have a pet,” Flint said as he coated the pan in butter. “Not even when Thomas and I were first over in Manhattan, once he’d recovered from the accident, it just- there were too many risks, too many variables. We already had so much on our plate, between his recovery and the bar that any pet we did have wouldn’t get the attention it needed.”

He set the seasoned duck breasts in the pan and let them cook, stepping away to pour them each a glass of negroni from the pitcher he’d made the night before. “I refused to adopt an animal only to risk neglecting it. So, once we moved here I found the local ferals and the people with their own colonies and did what I could.”

Silver nodded, taking the drink and the soft kiss that came with it. “And now? Since you both seemed so settled here?”

Flint smiled fondly at him. “I was too busy making sure I could bring you home for good to think about pets.”

For an asshole, Flint really was an unbelievably sappy romantic.

Silver felt himself blushing, knew he must have been from the way Flint’s smile sharpened a little before stealing another kiss. “I suppose thats fair.”

They looked up at the sound of the front door and sure enough Thomas’ voice echoed down the hall. “I hope you two aren’t fucking without me again.”

“Do blow jobs count?” Silver called back as Flint flicked his ear, the sound of Thomas’ laughter preceding him.

“Whatever you’re cooking smells divine,” Thomas said, joining them in the kitchen. He looked tired, his carefully styled hair a bit ruffled from the wind and his fingers toying with it, his shoulders heavy with a full day of lectures so that he leaned more heavily on his ornate walking stick than he had that morning. Silver watched as he pulled Flint in for a kiss, noting the way his body began to relax and shed the stress.

“It’ll be ready in forty minutes, if you both can stop distracting me,” Flint teased, kissing his husband’s cheek before turning back to the stove. “How was your day?”

Thomas groaned, moving around Flint to greet Sliver with a kiss hello. “Don’t ask me that till I’ve had time to process it. Exam season approaches with it’s usual misery.” Silver managed to steal a few more progressively dirty kisses before Thomas pulled away with a hum. “Hello pet.”

“Evening Professor,” Silver replied sweetly, feeling a thrill at the way Thomas’ blue eyes darkened at the title. “Need some help freshening up before dinner?”

Thomas laughed, though he looked like he might be considering it, and took a sip of Silver’s drink. “No, no, best save that for after dinner. I’m just going to go wash up down the hall.”

Begrudgingly Silver let him go, moving to sit in one of the bar chairs so he could watch Flint cook more comfortably. For short time the kitchen was quiet, save for the sounds of food cooking and Flint occasionally muttering to himself.

Then, suddenly, they heard Thomas’ voice in the hall.

“Oh- oh my goodness hello precious! Oh hello just look at you-“

Flint looked up from the stove top with a frown that Silver returned. They listened a moment long as Thomas cooed and made soft little noises, the kind someone made when talking to a cat, for example.

There was a moment of silent realization as they stared at each other. The glass door to the deck was still open.

“Did you make sure the gate was closed?” Flint asked, already moving to clean his hands.

“In theory?” Silver replied, scrambling off his stool and out into the hall.

Thomas sat against the wall with the white and brown stray in his arms, the cat purring loudly and rubbing himself all over Thomas’ shirt. His brother was sniffing curiously at Thomas’ shoes, though upon seeing Silver, he trotted over to him with his long fluffy tail held high. Silver crouched down as best he could without his prosthetic, holding out his hand to the cat who greeted him happily.

“You didn’t tell me we were adopting kittens!” Thomas said in bewildered delight when Flint finally joined them, the poor man staring at his two partners in equal disbelief.

“Uhm.”

“They were curled up in the parlor! They woke up when I came in a suppose and they followed me over to the bathroom- where did you get them? They’re such angels oh my goodness-”

“It’s a bit of a story, actually.” Silver held back his laughter as the more skittish brother crawled into his lap, Flint’s face growing more and more overwhelmed, and more and more flushed as he watched.

“They’re uhm. Strays.” Flint finally managed to say. “From the neighborhood. I must’ve left the gate open, and the- the deck door was- they must've slipped in while I was cooking-”

“Oh you saint of a man,” Thomas said, getting carefully to his feet with an armful of cat. “Were you feeding them? Of course you were, thats a ridiculous question isn’t it. Have they had their shots? Oh we need to find a vet, schedule a visit. And they need baths, and a groomer too I imagine. Do we have enough food-” his voiced trailed off as he went back to the kitchen to search the cabinets.

Silver looked up at Flint with a fond smile.

“Guess I brought a few extra strays with me, huh?” he asked, holding out a hand so Flint could help him up.

It got him a weak laugh, Flint helping him carefully to his feet and greeting the cat in his arms. “Looks like it. Though I don’t think any of you are strays anymore, what with a home like this and all.”

Silver tried not to think too hard about the way his heart ached at Flint’s words, leaning in for a kiss instead. “Go finish dinner, I’ll help Thomas get these two washed up.”

The cat in his arms lifted his striped shaggy head and nuzzled into Flint’s beard a moment, as if to reassure him and Silver watched as any possible argument Flint might muster vanished in an instant.

“Good thing I bought that extra cat food, huh?”

[neakco]

The Lost Temple Ch.4

Ao3 First Prev Next Masterlist

Where Tim debates if sending his youngest brother out to murder an ancient order of monks is unethical.

Ch.4 The Calm

Marinette explained that she hadn’t seen any signs of the temple yet. So it was decided they would consider every area covered today as searched unless the remaining sections turn up empty.

 

Their new plan also had them sticking together, just in case. Just in case of what was never mentioned but Tim was starting to think it either had something to do with gods or magic.

 

As they once again shared the watch Tim decided to risk asking a question he had dismissed earlier. “How did you untie the ropes so quickly?”

 

He watched a few different emotions cross her eyes before settling on mischievous.

 

“I have a small god in my pocket.”

 

He laughed quietly, “I don’t even know if you are joking. You are a mystery Marinette.” A mystery he wouldn’t mind taking a long time to solve if he was being honest.

 

Her laughter soon joined his, “How about I tell you when all of this is over.”

 

“So you don’t plan to disappear off the grid after returning to the monks?”

 

Marinette’s mirth evaporated, “I don’t want to return.”

 

It felt to Tim that in that moment she had removed his soul to scrutinize every sin and good deed before finally giving it back.

 

“I trust you more then I have ever trusted them.” Her eyes narrowed as she looked at him. “Adrien and I have known them for five years now.”

 

Tim was curious but he could also tell this was a very sensitive topic, “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”

 

“I know, but it feels good to tell someone.”

 

He watched and waited patiently. This was the first time he felt as if she wasn’t suppressing any of her emotions and he didn’t want to ruin it.

 

“The monks figured they could control us, by the time the learned they were wrong it was too late. We were too powerful.”

 

Tim wanted to make a joke about how they didn’t look powerful, but deep down he knew that wasn’t true. There was definitely something just under the surface if you knew what to look for. Tim had spent to much Tim with those more than human to ever dismiss Marinette and Adrien.

 

“They tried to kill us when we were 16 three years ago.”

 

That stopped Tim's thoughts. What sane person tries to kill sixteen year olds?

 

“Adrien's father had just been revealed as a supervillain and arrested.” He was definitely staring, this was a lot more information than he expected her to offer freely.

 

She apparently noticed his look and understood, “It is common knowledge and if you are even half as good a detective as rumours say then I know you will find out eventually.”

 

He watched her collect her own thoughts for a moment and noticed his own were silent for once.

 

“We survived the attempt without a scratch. For a while we figured that would be the end of it. We started to pick up the chaos of what remained of our lives. We wanted to be kids, at least for a couple more years. We hadn’t been kids in so long…” She trailed off for less than a breath. “Then they appeared again.”

 

Tim didn’t realize he was holding his breath until she continued speaking in a darker tone.

 

“They took the only people we care about. Said that if we do this one thing that we won't have to worry anymore.”

 

“You don’t believe them.”

 

“Would you?”

 

“No, probably not.” He reached into one of his pouches and pulled out a card in the shape of his logo and handed it to her. “I doubt the monks will expect you ask for help. This has my emergency line and the number for Mount Justice. When you decide to pull off a rescue then you just need to ask.”

 

Marinette surprised him when she hugged him, tears streaming down her pretty face. “This means so much more to me than you could ever know.”

 

Tim, not really knowing what to do, did his best to hug her back. There was a small voice that sounded like his youngest brother telling him it was stupid to trust two teens that he had stumbled over in a jungle, but he was pretty good at ignoring the Gremlin when his gut disagreed.

 

Adrien eventually came by to tell them they were late for breakfast. Tim hadn’t even realised so much time had passed.

 

They came back to camp to see Bart already bouncing off trees.

 

“Adrien, tell me about your girlfriend.”

 

“Kagami?” Tim watched Adrien sit down with a cheese danish that had him questioning if the blonde was as good a baker as Marinette.

 

“She is as fierce and protective as a dragon.”

 

Marinette sat down next to him with a chocolate danish. Where were these coming from? Tim wondered if they could get him a mocha flavoured one.

 

“You know kitty, I am actually surprised the monks managed to grab her. She is rather deadly with a sword after all.”

 

“I am mire surprised they didn’t grab Luka.” Adrien grinned ferally. “Do you think he tossed them in La Siene? I rather doubt they know how to swim.”

 

“Who's Luka? You’re boyfriend?” Kon asked before taking a bite of…was that steak?

 

Okay, now Tim knew he was being pranked. He turned to glare at Bart who just grinned and handed over a large slice of coffee cake.

 

“Luka is actually my ex, but I still count him as one of my best friends. Enough about us, what about you three? Anyone special waiting for you back home?”

 

Bart laughed, “Nah, I am still celebrating just being alive.”

 

Tim could see Marinette adding Bart into her club as Kon scoffed, “Hard to find someone okay with dating a hero.”

 

Tim nodded, “Too many secrets. It isn’t like you can explain why you are ditching a date to run towards danger.”

 

“Or why you are late and covered in bruises, burns or blood.” Bart chipped in.

 

“Actually that one is easy enough when you live in Gotham.” Tim sighed, he really wished that wasn’t the case.

 

Adrien nodded along solemnly, “The only ones to understand are heroes and villains.” He looked towards Tim brimming with mischief. “Is it true that Batman had a threesome with Gotham's Sirens?”

 

A yo-yo flew into Adrien with such force that the blonde actually flew from his seat. Tim was up before the boy had gracefully landed on his feet, but relaxed upon seeing the toy, no the weapon, return to Marinette.

 

“Kitty, no.”

 

“M'lady you wound me. That actually hurt. I just wanted to make him blush.”

 

He watched her tuck the yo-yo away at her back before turning to Tim, “You really don’t need to answer him.”

 

Tim grinned, “I honestly don’t know. Pretty sure I deleted that info from my brain. I mean, would you want to know your mentor's sex life?”

 

Adrien and Marinette both shuddered.

 

“Our trusted mentor was 186.”

 

“and a half.” Adrien interrupted.

 

“186 and a HALF.” He watched her glare at the blonde while his own teammates shuddered.

 

Tim found himself more impressed then anything else. That was an unnaturally long life, unless their trusted mentor was secretly Ra’s. He doubted the Gremlin's grandfather was ever a monk though, rogue or otherwise. Plus, unlike said Gremlin, these two didn’t have the aura of killers. He would bet they had seen death, something in the sometimes haunted look they would get. These two had seen some sort of war and lived.

 

“Hey Red, are you still with us?” Marinette was very close and looking at him with concern.

 

“Yeah, I was just thinking.” He saw that most of the breakfast mess had already been cleaned up and decided to throw caution to the wind. “Have you or Adrien ever killed anyone?”

 

“What?” Marinette reeled back from him in shock.

 

Adrien looked like an offended cat, “No!”

 

“Well, there was that erased timeline…” Marinette trailed off.

 

“You told me I was under mind control! And I doesn’t count when only you and Bunnix can remember it.”

 

“Sorry, forget I ever asked.” If that timeline-hopping, punk rabbit was involved then he already knew more then he wanted to. Missions given to them by her were always the most chaotic.

 

In order to change the subject he pulled up his holo-map. “Working off the theory that our enemy has already searched their area.” He highlighted a good portion of the map purple. “Then this small area here should be the only area left to search.”

 

“We are actually assuming the enemy is competent?” Kon asked.

 

“Even if they aren’t, it will be a lot harder to search their territory without drawing attention.” Marinette added. “If today doesn’t work out then we can work out a strategy.”

 

Tim marked out their path in gold, “Two hours there and about 12 hours to search before we call it a night.”

 

“Unless we find it.” Adrien smiled.

 

“Unless we find it.” He agreed.

As always, feel free to reach out if you have any background lore questions. I am more than happy the elaborate the chaos.

Taglist @toodaloo-kangaroo

[basicjetsetter]

Part V

♡ Pairing: Peter Parker x Black!FemaleReader

▹ Warnings: Fluffy scenes, anxious moments, cliff-hanger

▹ Words: 3.3k

▹ A/N: We are reaching the eye of the storm. Happy reading!

“ ‘Kay, so there’s no way they’re gonna win this game without him turning into the Wolf, right?”

“Finish watching it, Peter.”

Peter musingly shakes his head, mouthful of his fourth slice of pizza. “There’s no way.”

You level a patient smirk at him and point to the television, wordlessly telling him to see for himself.

The screen’s brightness fills your otherwise dark living room, casting shadows along the angles of Peter’s concentrated face. His body is sloped forward, and if he didn’t possess the body control of an enhanced being, he’d fall face-first into your carpet.

Tonight’s movie selection was your choice, and you didn’t want to disappoint. So when Peter said he’d never seen Teen Wolf, you were over the moon. Usually, you’d watch every single second of the classic film, but with Peter sitting cross-legged next to you, his hip pressed against yours as your crossed leg rests on top of his, you spent the entire time covertly peeking at his fascinated expressions.

Well into the third month of your friendship, Peter’s presence in your apartment remains to be an odd sight in a good way. Out of your ordinary. His first time in your apartment came on a day you both chose to escape the sun’s sweltering heat with A/C and ice cream, and like your first conversation in Hal’s, he never made it weird.

It was effortless. Every moment with Peter was like breathing.

If anyone else suggested Friday-night movie nights, you’d have spared no time shutting them down. But your yes to Peter harbored no resistance.

“No way!” An excited smile spreads across Peter’s face as Scott steps to the baseline to take the game-winning free throw shots. “Is he seriously gonna make these?”

You seal your lips, choosing not to spoil the moment, but Peter doesn’t see. His eyes never stray from the screen, and his lips slightly part from the nail-biting suspense. As the last shot falls through the hoop, Peter’s whole jaw drops.

When the end credits roll, he slowly claps. “That was awesome. Like I’ve got some serious chills. How am I going to top that?”

“Eh, you probably won’t,” you reply with a boastful grin. Hidden joy thrums through your body from his excitement. “Might as well call a wrap on movie nights.”

Peter playfully nudges you with his elbow, then checks his watch. “Ah, man, it’s late. I needed to be on patrol half an hour ago.” He’s up in a flash, slipping his shoes on and chewing up the rest of his pizza.

“Do you have to go?” A hint of sadness tinges your words. 

“Yeah, the city would be a mess without me,” he jokes, but you weren’t remiss of his undertone sincerity. “Oh! That reminds me. Some bad guys are out on a robbing spree lately, tailing people at night, so if you work late, can you ask Chris to walk you home? Y’know, just in case I’m not there.”

He does this every time he’s over. Each week, there’s a new thing or group to be leery of, and each time he asks, you immediately nod to erase the gut-sinking concern in his brown eyes.

You rise from the couch and follow Peter to the door. He turns just as he’s about to twist the handle, stalls for a second, then envelopes you into a small, reluctant hug, leaving his arms lax just in case you wanted to pull away. 

Hugging is new, something you’ve only done about five times. The first was an unplanned disaster featuring a hard shove, repeated apologies, and a long, awkward moment of silence. 

You didn’t mean to push him away. It was one of those moments where, even though the urge to reciprocate was there, you couldn’t allow yourself to find comfort in such an innocent gesture. You weren’t ready. He respected that.

You knew your rash reaction bruised Peter more than he let on, but he learned to ease his way into your comfort zone with small touches. An intentional brush of his hand against yours, scooching closer to you on the couch, hi-fives with minimally laced fingers.

It took a while for the second hug-attempt, but you were cautiously prepared when it happened.

This time around, you return the gesture, winding your arms around his middle and setting your chin on his shoulder, resisting the urge to nuzzle your nose against his warm neck. His closeness frazzles you, even more so when he diminishes the gap between you, holding you tighter to his chest before releasing you and clearing his throat.

“Be safe,” you warn softly.

He puffs out his chest. “I have nothing to fear except fear itself.”

“That confident, huh?”

“Comes with the job. You get knocked down enough times, you get pretty confident once you realize you can always get back up.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Uh-huh. And yet you still have a fear of heights.”

“Never said I wasn’t afraid of falling. Just that it gets easier getting back up. ‘Sides, most of those petty offenders scare easy. All I gotta do is say I can plant eggs in ‘em.” He shudders at the idea himself.

“Please, Peter,” you implore, a smile sullying your stern frown.

Peter’s grin, always so wholesome and calming, blankets over your nerves. “I’ll be fine. Don’t worry about me.”

“Well, I think Spider-Man needs someone to worry about him, sometimes. Even if he can get back up. Just… let caution work alongside confidence.”

He heeds your words with a more allayed smile, curtly nodding. “Vigilance. I can do that.”

You’re tempted to wrap him back into your arms to protect him from whatever dangers lie outside of your apartment. Instead, you exchange simple goodnights and shut the door once he reaches the stairwell.

The room and your shirt preserve his crisp evergreen scent long after he’s gone. It lingers as you crawl into bed. An aromatic reminder of his caress and warm skin.

As far as friendships go, you’ve never had one quite like this. The line you drew in the sand moves. Accommodates. Shrinks. Whether he’s aware of it or not, the time you spend cracking jokes with Peter at Hal’s, listening to his adventurous feats, becoming comfortable with his physical proximity, seeing his smile and the way his eyes light up when you smile at something funny or interesting he’s said, you fall just an inch.

He's growing on you. His presence. His laughter. His beaconing smile. His tentative touch. His uncanny ability to endear himself to your foreclosed heart.

It was easier to deny the connection when you didn’t know Peter. But now that you do, every moment you’re with him intensifies what you’ve painstakingly tried to avoid.

You’re falling in love with your Soulmate.

✦ ✧✦ ✧

Once again, it’s the Saturday brunch rush, and once again, Hal’s is up to its neck in bloodthirsty customers. All the booths are packed, as well as the stools. Some of the parties compact a seat meant for two with four people, and the aisle clogs with those who just came to grab a cup of coffee and conversation.

Chris is in his element, swinging from one booth to the next like a controlled tornado collecting orders, while you and Wendy are the unfortunate bunch who have to clean up desecrated tables and feed the greedy.

“If someone asks me what the specials are one more time, I’m going to rip my hair out,” Wendy grouses behind the counter as she puts away five menus.

You grumble back the same sentiments. Menus exist for a reason. And most of these people aren’t new to Hal’s, so the fact that they always have to ask grinds your gears.

11:30 a.m. is your saving grace. If you can hold on until Peter gets here, you’ll be fine.

Chris stops by the bar, pocketing what appears to be a twenty-dollar bill. “Lighten up, ladies. At least you’re off tomorrow.”

Wendy, in her 5’3’’ stature, looks feral. “I want to be off now.”

A rowdy group of high-schoolers sitting in the farthest booth is holding a contest to see who could drink a milkshake the fastest, and the two unlucky contestants shriek like banshees from self-inflicted brain-freeze. All three of you wince.

“We don’t get paid enough for this.”

Hal shouts from the back. “Order up! And stop slackin’ off out there!”

Wendy’s eye twitches as she marches to the back to pick up the orders. You’d have acted the same way if you didn’t have something to look forward to.

“They’re not going to tip me. I just know it,” Chris says to you, despondently looking over at the teens’ table again.

“They’ll come around. No one can resist this moneymaker.” You lightly bump him on the chin to indicate his smile. Heck, his whole chiseled face is a moneymaker, but that exuberant smile sells it all.

Over the last three months, just like your friendship with Peter, your friendship with Chris has improved. Even with Wendy. You aren’t at each other’s throats nearly as much as you used to be. Last week, she complimented your hairstyle, though it was immediately followed up with a snide comment: progress, either way.

Chris laughs. “And here I thought my friendly personality racked up all the tips.”

“It’s a bonus.”

He chuckles again, then blows out a hesitant breath. “So, Y/N…”

“So, Chris…”

“There’s, um, there’s gonna be another music festival in Cunningham Park tonight, and I was wondering if, y’know, you and Peter might want to come and hang?”

You and Peter… As if you were a pair. An item. A couple. To unsuspecting eyes, you knew you and Peter seemed to be just really good friends. Not even Hal questioned why you spent half an hour talking to him every weekday. If he had an inkling of who Peter actually was to you, he’d have confronted you by now.

Chris, on the other hand, kept a sharp eye on you when Peter was around. As meticulous as you were about keeping up pretenses in public, sometimes you’d slip. Your smile would be a tad too bright when Peter walked through the door and took his usual seat. You’d giggle at his jokes too loud. You’d stare into his eyes too long. Signs too blatant for Chris to miss.

You’re just waiting for him to put the last piece in the puzzle.

“I’d… I’d have to ask Peter.” You take a deep breath. Here goes nothing. “But, yeah, I’ll go.”

“Wait, seriously?”

“Sure. Sounds like it’ll be fun. What time is it?”

Chris lays a hand on your forehead. “Temp seems fine. Pupils aren’t dilated. How many fingers am I holding up?”

You swat his hand down with a laugh. “Shut up.”

“Look, I know you probably don’t want me saying this out loud, but I’m glad you met Peter. We all are.”

“Why?” Evidently, you’re not that great at hiding your feelings as you thought.

Chris leans against the bar top, keeping an eye on the door just in case customers walked in. “Well, for starters, you literally just agreed to hang out with me for the first time since you started working here, which was—what—two years ago. And… you… I don’t know. You’re more open, y’know? Smiling and such.”

“I smiled before,” you say, a little defensive.

“Not like you do now. Before, it was all—,” Chris screws his mouth up. It’s strange. Alienated and wire-tight. The corners of his lips don’t fully come up, and it barely reaches his eyes. You instantly recognize it—the smile you hid behind.

Did you really smile like that? How is it that you never noticed how off-putting it was? If a server ever smiled at you like that, you’d assume they wished you disappeared off the face of the earth. Is that the smile people saw? More importantly, when did you stop putting it on?

“Two more strawberry milkshakes over here!” shouted one of the brain-freeze victims.

Chris hops to it. Always the perfect server. On his way to make the shakes, he says, “7 p.m.”

“I’ll be there.”

You weren’t going to confirm for Peter until he was there to answer for himself, but he doesn’t show. 11:30 a.m. and the rest of your shift flies by without a sight of him, which is strange, but not uncommon. Homework might have him tied up. September is a pretty busy month for schoolwork, and mid-terms are approaching, so he might be buried in assignments.

Worry doesn’t settle in until you’re getting ready for the music festival at 6:30 p.m., and Peter still hasn’t sent so much as a voicemail.

Evening summer sunlight filters in through your open window, the active sounds of Queens’ busy streets and subway station not allowing your room to fall quiet. Nights like this are perfect for outdoor festivals because it’s warm enough to sit in the grass and not bring a jacket.

Rather than enjoy the idea of getting out for the first time in years, your mind remains hooked on Peter.

It’s not like him not to leave a text if he’s caught up in other things. He’d make sure to tell you where he is, how far away. Since the beginning of this friendship, starting with his little notes, Peter’s constant communication wasn’t something you expected. But now that you do, this behavior just doesn’t match what you’re used to.

You pace the floor of your small bedroom, back and forth, wall to wall, abusively chewing your lower lip and turning your phone around in your hand, working up the nerve to call him, summoning up the will to voice your concern if he did answer.

When you do call, you get his voicemail. Trying again, you end up with the same result. Okay. He’s not picking up his phone.

Fear foregrounds your frustration. It bleeds into your words as you leave your fifth message. One after the other, they morph from mild concern to despairing panic. As the sun dips lower and lower on the horizon and the orange sunlight dwindles, so does your desire to go out.

Because… maybe you shouldn’t go. Maybe you should search for Peter. Finding any trace of him at all would be a stretch, and Chris might be upset about you ditching your plans the next time you see him, but you can’t possibly go out knowing something may be horribly wrong with Peter.

No. No, you won’t cancel plans like that. Peter is fine. Of course, he’s fine. He’s Spider-Man. His duties as a hero come first, no matter what. And he wouldn’t want you to stress so much about him.

Wherever he is, whatever he’s doing, he is okay. He’s alive. You feel it.

Somehow, you break the trance of your pacing and convince yourself to grab a cab ride to the park. When you arrive, the festival appears to be at a content standstill. It’s not as crowded as you assumed it would be for a Saturday night. Many of the attendants, ranging from all ages, are sitting on the grass, soaking up the fading rays of the sun while the bands finish up prepping. You’re greeted by the distinctive smell of hotdog vendors intermingled with ripening leaves.

There is nothing truly scenic about Cunningham Park, aside from the interspersed trees and trails. You’d been here a handful of times when you were younger, hanging out with friends during summer break, and one thing you loved about the park back then is how the sun shone through the leaves, casting an ethereal glow on nature.

You’re more appreciative of its beauty without the sun’s effect.

It wasn’t that hard finding Chris. All you had to do was look for the person most likely garnering friends from other groups. He’s on a blanket, seated in the center of the crowd and chatting with a group of three people.

When you’re close enough to be spotted, Chris’s face mouth out into a wide smile.

“You came!” Then his eyes roamed around. “Where’s Peter?”

You try for a carefree grin but let it fall when the effort became too much. “He couldn’t make it. School stuff.”

“Oh, well, that’s fine.” His smile drops fractionally, less joyful and more sympathetic. “I’m really glad you made it. Hey, guys. This is Y/N, my friend from work.”

You wave a little and hope for a genuine smile to grace your lips as they all scoot to make room for you on the blanket.

Chris introduces them all. He points to a buff, curly-haired guy named Dez, who you wouldn’t have guessed would be the type of guy to enjoy small park festivals. He looks like the kind of person who regularly crowd-surfs at huge concerts and somehow always winds up with a VIP pass. The next person is a slender girl named Asha, who has thick black hair knotted into a messy soccer bun and a glowing smile. 

The last person Chris introduces you to is his Soulmate. You knew just by the way he said his name. Resounding. Reverent. Borderline fanatic. His name is Quint, and unlike the others, he wraps you up in a surprising hug. What’s even more surprising is you hugging back.

“Nice to finally meet you.” His voice is richly robust, exactly how you would expect someone with his Adonis-like face to sound. Two gorgeous, outgoing Soulmates just seems unfair.

“Nice to meet you, too.” You can’t help looking from Quint’s face to Chris’s, then back again, and wondering if this is what people see when they see you and Peter—a perfect match. “Chris has told me a lot about you. All great things.”

“He better,” Quint says, jokingly gazing at Chris as a blush flared across Chris’s cheeks. “And he’s told me a lot about you and Peter.”

There it goes again: people pairing you two. It’s hard not to notice how natural that sounds, as though you two were meant to be spoken about as an inseparable whole.

You brush off your startled expression as best you can and ask, “Good things, right?”

He nods, then shares a smile with Chris. “I would’ve liked to meet him.” You roughly translate that to mean, ‘I would’ve liked to meet you both.’ The blush on Chris’s face deepens into an embarrassingly bright shade of red when he catches your eye.

A plucked, low-pitched guitar string echoes out to the crowd and effectively commences the start of the music festival. You must’ve missed the band's introduction because they got right into their music, playing a melancholic pop song that sounded pretty good. You were more interested in the guitar riffs and melodic piano notes than the lyrics, but they’re no doubt about love.

Halfway into their set, your stomach growls, and you remember that you didn’t have anything to eat since you got off work. The whole thing with Peter staved off your hunger. He’s still in the front of your mind, but you’re doing your best to enjoy the night with Chris and his friends.

Standing up, you tell Chris, “I’m gonna get a hotdog.”

He tilts his chin up in acknowledgment, then goes back to swaying his head to the music.

You got up just in time to beat the line. There are only two vendors in the park, and they’d be slammed once the music hits its intermission. The one you’re at resides near the outskirts of the crowd, closest to where you left the group, and two people are in front of you.

You wish Peter were here.

Your hand touches the outline of your phone in your back pocket while you wrestle with the idea of calling him again. Maybe he’ll pick up this time.

You’re just about to unlock your phone when you hear someone calling your name—a girl.

The voice gets closer and more breathless, like they’re running at you full speed ahead and couldn’t reach you fast enough. You turn to the sound just as the body slams into you, yanking you out of line and clutching you to their frame.

“Where the hell have you been?!”

You pull away and stare straight into her face, not trusting your own eyes. “Manda?"

...

Taglist: @alexandria-euphoria​