#it was only supposed to be backstory but i went and wrote out a rough draft of the whole story hjkfhjkgfd

[vanillashusband]

hehehe I am gonna talk about the momotaro and co's backstories because I like them and wanna talk about them more!!!

Momotaro's story is mostly the same. A giant peach came floating down the river while the old woman was washing clothes. She brought it home and when the old couple cut it open Momotaro was inside. The old couple raised Momotaro to be a courageous and kind boy, but they didn't tell him how they had found him. He was a normal child enjoying life in his small village until his superhuman strength showed itself when he saved a village girl from a falling tree. Momotaro's parents then told him how he had been born from a peach and that he was divine in nature, a blessing from heaven. This didn't really change much for Momotaro, if anything it motivated him to take up the sword and start using his new powers to protect his village. As the years went on and Momotaro grew into an adult, his powers grew stronger and he defended his village from demons, bandits, and other threats. That was until one day, a gang of strong demons that had been ravaging the countryside invaded the village when Momotaro was away trying to aid a village that had been attacked. The oni kidnapped some people from the village and left it in ruins. Momotaro was too late to stop them. His parents were thankfully ok and Momotaro regretted leaving the village and vowed he would find the demon's hideout and rescue the kidnapped villagers. His parents knew this was their son's destiny and prepared him with supplies and the kibi dango. Momotaro then set off for Onigashima.

Gin was once a samurai employed by a wealthy feudal lord in far away kingdom, but because of his inaction the lord's son he was supposed to protect was assassinated. Gin was disgraced and banished from the kingdom and he eventually found himself on Onigashima with no where else to go. Gin was an incredibly skilled samurai and he could have done something about the oni on the island, but because of his depression he saw it as pointless. Gin did mostly odd jobs around the town and lazed around in his hut, just wasting away until Momotaro arrived on Onigashima. Momotaro had heard rumors from the villagers that the old dog that lives in the woods used to be a samurai and went to ask him for help, to which Gin refused. Momotaro then gives him an earful and then leaves to go face the oni by himself. Gin just sighs and resigns himself to do nothing yet again. But he turns and see's Momotaro had left him a kibi dango, and his words finally get through to him. Though Momotaro is strong and had trained for most of his childhood, he isn't skilled or strong enough to win against the oni by himself. The most he's dealt with are lower level demons and petty bandits, so Momotaro is completely unprepared for the hideout full of incredibly strong oni. Gin appears at the last moment and saves Momotaro from the leader, Akandoji, and they escape together. (lowkey Gin definitely see's Momotaro as a parallel to the lord's son he had failed) After they are safe back in Gin's hut, he tells Momotaro that he isn't strong enough to take on the oni but Gin is going to help train him. Momotaro is ecstatic and thanks Gin.

Gin and Momotaro retreat up one of the mountains to get a better vantage point and to begin Momotaro's training. During their training they stumble on an old man up in the mountains who tries to chase them off his property because he thinks they're the thieves that's been stealing from him and tormenting him. Momotaro clears up the misunderstanding and offers to help the old man around the house since he's clearly having trouble. Gin thinks its a waste of time and they should be training in order to beat the oni and save the people they kidnapped. But Momotaro insists. Gin huffs but goes along with it and even does some work himself. The old man is very grateful for their help and says someone has been breaking into his house at night and stealing from him but he hasn't been able to catch them. Gin and Momotaro agree to help catch the thief and stay the night in the old man's home. Tomoki breaks in that night and steals food from the old man but he manages to escape Gin and Momotaro because of his agility and ends up stealing Momotaro's kibi dango. Gin and Momotaro pursue Tomoki into the mountains and manage to track him to his hideout where they confront him. They beat Tomoki in a fight and tie him up. They get a little info about the demon fortress out of Tomoki, as he had tried to get in before but failed. They get their stuff back and Momotaro compliments him on his fighting skills and stealth and offers Tomoki the chance to help them take down the oni, Akandoji, and his demon gang and drive them from Onigashima. He says that any treasure they find after beating the demons can be Tomoki's if he helps. Tomoki thinks for a moment, but he refuses Momotaro's offer. Momotaro shrugs and instructs Gin to free Tomoki. Gin thinks Momotaro is being too soft and they shouldn't just free a dirty thief after he literally stole from them. They got their things back and Tomoki doesn't want to help them so there is nothing they can do, they can't force him. Tomoki taunts them, saying they'll get ripped to pieces by the demons if they try to go in there. Momotaro says he's willing to risk it, because there are people in there that are counting on him. Tomoki is quiet. Before they leave, Momotaro gives Tomoki a kibi dango in thanks for the information he gave them. Tomoki is immediately suspicious of Momotaro and asks what he's up to. Momotaro says he's not up to anything and the kibi dango is a reward, since "something earned is better than something stolen". Tomoki is taken aback but hesitantly accepts the kibi dango. Gin and Momotaro leave and Gin scolds Momotaro about rewarding a lowlife like Tomoki but the monkey quickly catches up to them. He says that the demons stole something from him and he wants it back so he might as well lend a hand, just until he gets back his property. But he's not going to stick his neck out for them or anything! And Tomoki joins the group, despite Gin's grumbling.

Tomoki is essentially a petty thief. He steals what he wants, from who he wants and drinks himself into a stupor almost every day alone in his house on the mountain among his hoard of stolen possessions. Tomoki doesn't have any family, as he was orphaned at a very young age. Through his life Tomoki struggled to make a living for himself and when he put his trust in others he was often taken advantage of, betrayed, and abandoned. He was often the fall guy because of his trusting nature and ended up in a lot of terrible situations completely alone. At some point Tomoki closed himself off from trusting other people entirely and because of what he had been through, beginning to believe that the world is nothing but cruel and everyone is only out for themselves. So why should he be any different? Tomoki then turned to a life of crime. Steal anything and everything, even stealing from those who were less fortunate than him. It didn't matter to him, if he wanted it, he would take it. He stole from kings, peasants, samurai, and anyone unlucky enough to cross his path. Tomoki would then take his treasures back to his hidden home. But because of his rampant stealing, Tomoki gained a reputation and a price on his head. He eventually stole from the wrong lord and invoked their wrath. Tomoki's hideout was discovered and he was captured. His home was burned, all his possession were seized, and Tomoki was to be executed for his crimes. He was able to escape his binds and he ran. Tomoki was now alone again and had nothing left but the clothes on his back and his kusarigama. He couldn't make a new hide out in the same area as he was too well known so he decided to sneak on a boat and travelled to Onigashima.

Jinrai was a pampered pet of a king in a wealthy kingdom. The king had many exotic pets, but Jinrai was always the king's favourite because of his beautiful plumage and grace. But suddenly one day a terrible famine struck the kingdom. All the crops died and livestock became sick. The king did everything to aid his kingdom, spending vast amounts of wealth to bring in food from other kingdom's to feed his citizens. But as their wealth ran dry, and with nothing to trade in return the aid of other kingdom's stopped. As food grew scarcer and scarcer the king's pets slowly, one by one, started to disappear. Jinrai, however, wasn't worried whatsoever. The famine didn't effect him too bad and even when the other pets in the palace began to go missing Jinrai didn't worry, as he knew he was the king's favourite and of course he wouldn't get eaten. But unfortunately for him, this proved to be untrue. Jinrai tried to evade capture when he realized what was happening but he couldn't fly away because his wings were clipped. But he managed to escape with his life. And unfortunately, his beautiful tail feathers were ripped out. Jinrai travelled by himself for sometime before getting caught in a trap by an oni. Jinrai almost escapes when the demon tries to cook and eat him but he is trapped. Jinrai begs for his life and he see's metal claws and spurs on the wall, he thinks fast and says he can get the demon money by fighting. The demon accepts and Jinrai is entered into a fighting ring. Jinrai just has to survive until his feathers grow back and then he can fly away. He finds himself longing for the days when he was a pampered pet and had no worries. As it turns out, Jinrai is quite skilled at fighting even without his flight and the demon makes it big on the winnings. They even develop a sort of odd friendship but Jinrai is mostly uncomfortable and he never planned on staying anyway. Jinrai fears that as soon as he outlives his usefulness to the demon he will be eaten. So at the earliest chance available, Jinrai scratches the demon's eyes and he escapes from his prison. Jinrai no longer wants to return to his old pampered pet life, he doesn't want to be kept or owned only to be eaten at someone else's convenience. Jinrai continues to fight but now he does it for himself and ends up becoming a sort of a bounty hunter and flies to Onigashima. Because he is on the tail of Tomoki.

The three of them bond and there are lighthearted shenanigans! As Momotaro, Gin, and Tomoki are training and talking about their strategy for their attack on the demon fortress they are suddenly ambushed by a bunch of demons. Gin, Momotaro, and Tomoki fight them off together and suddenly Jinrai swoops in and takes a few demons out before they can attack the group. The demons retreat and Momotaro thanks Jinrai for the help before the bird immediately attacks Tomoki. They try to catch Jinrai to stop him by he flies out of reach and reprimands them for harboring a wanted criminal like Tomoki. Jinrai flies off, saying he will be back to apprehend Tomoki for the bounty on his head. The three of them make camp and Tomoki reveals his backstory. And telling this to Gin and Momotaro is terrifying for Tomoki. Despite their time together bonding, Tomoki doesn't want to say too much because he is afraid that they will hate him and then abandon him later, and he doesn't want to lose the only friends he has. But Momotaro wants Tomoki to tell them, saying that it won't change how they view him now. Jinrai is gearing up to strike but he eavesdrops on their conversation from nearby, and is moved by Momotaro's compassion. He holds back on his attack for the night. However, that doesn't change his current goal of bringing Tomoki to justice. In the morning as the trio are heading down the mountain to the town, they discover that it is being attacked and ransacked by demons. Gin, Momotaro, and Tomoki jump in to save the villagers and chase the demons away. Jinrai joins the fight to save the town but because of his arrogance is shot through the wing by a demon archer. Tomoki manages to catch Jinrai before he hits the ground. When Jinrai gets angry at Tomoki for saving him and accuses him of only saving him for his own gain. Tomoki hits him with a "Helping others is better than helping only yourself." and Jinrai goes quiet. The demons are chased off successfully but unfortunately they were able to make off with all of the town's food, leaving the villagers with nothing. The villagers already had very little because the demons routinely took a large cut of food from them in exchange for not murdering them. Hearing about the hungry villagers obviously makes Jinrai very scared and he tries to run away despite his damaged wing. Momotaro catches Jinrai trying to leave and says he shouldn't be moving much because he needs to heal. Momotaro offers him the last kibi dango. Jinrai is taken aback by the gift, saying that he's really going to give the last of his food to him? Momotaro says of course, Jinrai needs it in order to help him heal. Momotaro then leaves Jinrai alone. In the morning the villagers tell Momotaro and company that the demons stole all the food because they are holding a wedding ceremony in 4 days. Momotaro is definitely confused but there is nothing much they can do while Jinrai is injured. So in the meantime Momotaro, Gin, and Tomoki help around the town to scrounge enough food together for everyone. Gin does work around the town, fixing things for the villagers, Tomoki returns all the things he stole from the townspeople and apologizes, and Momotaro discovers his powers over plants in order to grow food for the town. Jinrai through most of this watching and reflecting on everything. When he is better and able to fly again he wants in on defeating the demons. Tomoki is hoping that Jinrai will forget about his bounty now that they're all friends, and Jinrai gives a humorous "maybe".

With the wedding about to begin, the four decide its time to strike. Jinrai flies over the fortress to get a lay of the land and returns to the others. Momotaro, Gin, and Tomoki pose as villagers at the gates with offerings of food and gifts. The demons take them into the fortress and to the hall where Akandoji is forcing a woman to marry him. Right when the time is right, Momotaro and gang shed their disguises and strike. A battle ensues (and if it were animated it would be very epic). They beat the demons and Momotaro and Akandoji face each other. Momotaro wins but right when he's about to kill Akandoji, he hesitates because of the demon's cries for mercy. Gin and his friends shout at him to end the demon but Momotaro let's him go, on the condition that he honors his words and promises to do good instead of evil. Akandoji thanks Momotaro profusely for sparing him and says he will be good from now on. He let's all the captives go. The food and things stolen from the villagers are returned and the demons and humans strike a deal to help each other and protect one another. The woman Momotaro saved from Akandoji comes over to thank him personally for coming to her rescue. Her name is Uriko. (or Urikohime ;3c)

With Onigashima saved, the people from his village safe, Momotaro wants nothing more than to return home. The team doesn't want to split up so Gin, Jinrai, and Tomoki decide to join Momotaro and go home together. Uriko comes along as well, since she wants to find her way back to her home. On the trip back, Uriko confides in Momotaro that the reason she got into that mess was because she got tricked by a demon called "Amanojaku", who stole her identity and took her place in her home, casting her out into the world alone. She got kidnapped by Akandoji when they happened upon each other and he was taken by her beauty and decided he wanted to marry her. Momotaro says he will help Uriko get back home.

And the adventures of Momotaro... continue.

[stardancerluv]

A Space Journey

Part One of ???

Summary: Introduction to Tyler and his girl.

Notes/Warnings: I saw Alien Romulus and fell very hard for Tyler. 😍 Wanted to give him a story. Might be a bit of an AU in bits giving him a backstory and fuller future..probably write leading up to the movie & such. 😬Hope I do him justice. 😬Also first time writing scifi..and writing in a future of any kind…so 😬 hope I did good.

18 & over. Consensual sex between and man and woman. Angst. (It wrote itself..a bit long!

❤️s, reblogs, comments, & feedback always welcome! Enjoy

The elevator whispered its way up from the depths of the mine to the top level. Some stared blindly ahead or in front of them, you chose some indiscernible place, not really seeing it. Your imagination conjured up happier moments from the past.

Behind you in one of the shadowy corners, the yellow bird in the cage chirped and fluttered its wings. Happy to be out of those large caverns. It was a good day. No leaving work prematurely. You would get your full credits for the day.

Stepping, out of the elevator you saw your boots were caked with the usual soot and mud. A cold, heavy rain dropped from the heavy clouds. It was not long before the rain seeped under the many layers of your clothes.

Tiredness, wore you down as you walked. Your body ached. You knew there were liberal smudges on your face, your hair was matted and oily under the hood you pulled more around your face.

You had not taken a decent shower in a few days since you knew you’d be pulling extra shifts back to back and since your boyfriend was off world till the end of the week. You just rolled in and out of bed and went and returned from work.

With all the soot flying around you squinted and paused when you saw the red neon sign, Bar. You pressed your lips together. You could go for a cold one, but you knew how rough the crowd could be at times. Without Tyler by your side you really didn’t want to venture in.

You decided to keep on going, pulling your hood tighter around you, wishing you could hide completely. A grumble gurgled from your stomach as it twisted in hunger. You would stop at the mess hall and grab some food before turning in at your sleep bunk.

Before, you realized what was happening you were tugged harshly into one of the nearby alleyways. Fear shot through you. You immediately started fighting. It was a regular occurrence people would get beat up, mugged or worse. People lost it out here on the mining planets, at least that was what your parents had always said.

“Shh, shhh. It’s easier when you don’t fight.” The voice whispered, as one hand had already slipped under the top layers of your clothes and now crept across your torso.

Only a thin, very worn scrap of fabric laid between you and the hand. Your hunger turned to nausea as you could feel the warmth from it. It was all you needed to fight even harder. You finally managed to stomp down on one of their feet.

“Oooooouch!” The voice called out and instantly let you go.

You turned around, your heart beating harder since you knew the voice.

“Tyler!” You scream and slapped his arm.

A large smile spread across his handsome face before he howled with laughter. Easily, he pulled you close and this time you wrapped your arms around him. Happily, you pressed yourself even closer against him.

“My strong, feisty girl.” He said breathless against the top of your head.

Easily, you forgot the wind or the rain pelting the two of you.

“You weren’t supposed be back for three days.” You managed to mumble out against his heavy clothes. Your body beginning to relax knowing you were now safe.

“We did good. Found more then expected and came back.”

You blinked up at him. “Really?”

“Yes.” He nodded, he was so soft and warm. “Let me take you home.”

*******

He took your hand as you walked up the steep steps into the hauler he shared with the others. You couldn’t help but notice no one was there.

“Bjorn and Navarro, left in a blink to get their drink and dance on. And Kay barely told me she was going out, when I heard the door shut.”

Leaning against the wall, you were relieved to be out of the soot cloaked air. You pulled and tugged, till you were free of your heavy boots. Once in your heavy socks, you were relieved the boots had kept your socks dry.

“Can’t blame them these last three weeks had felt long despite coming home a week early. I’m sure.”

You said with a fleeting smile. After you pulled off your gloves, you began working on the buttons of your heavy coat. Seeing, two of the buttons had been undone by him you glanced at him.

He winked. “What? I missed the feel of my girl.” You didn’t know how he could look cocky and sheepish at once but he did.

His cheekiness always made your heart flutter. In the few books, you managed to get your hands you figured you shared that with the girls of the past long gone.

“To be fair, I scrubbed up as fast as I could and headed out to find you.” He scratched at the back of his head. “Was going to check at the mine and the sleeping bunks.”

His mouth twisted at the last bit. You went over and gently tugged on his shirt. “I only do it when you’re not around, I’m cautious.”

“That’s what worries me.” He looked down at you and smiled, softly.

You could swim and lose yourself in his dark eyes, as the two of you looked unwavering at each other. No words were needed as the emotions welled up at his return. You swallowed. There was always chance he’d crash during reentry. Heck could during take off too, but Navarro was a pretty good pilot so you didn’t worry too much about take off.

He rubbed your arms. “Why don’t you go and wash up and I’ll make us something to eat.”

“Alright. Just don’t burn it this time.”

“Don’t invite me into the shower cubicle and I won’t.”

“I did that didn’t I?”

He smirked. “You certainly did.”

“Alright. Maybe this time I will behave myself.” You giggled.

******

The water from the shower head fell on you with a good pressure. Since Tyler and the others were known as pretty scavengers the company allowed them some nicer things. Water pressure and rations were among them.

You stood there not worried that the warm water would run out too fast. You just let it melt the cold from the mine and outside that remained in you. The water around your feet obscured with the soot that had clung to you, your hair.

Stretching, you sighed as the crisp scent of his soap comforted you. Turning the knobs, you finally stepped from the shower onto the rough mat which had become a welcome feel under foot as opposed to the cold tile in mass shower rooms.

You smiled, seeing that Tyler had hung up a fresh shirt and the pair of cotton pants, you usually stole when you stayed there. They had shrank in one of the laundry services so they fit you better. Seeing the bundle of yours gone, you knew he must have taken them to put into cleaning cycle.

After slipping on the fresh clothes you reached up and grabbed his towel, it was still faintly wet from his using it earlier. The thought made you smile as you rubbed your hair with it.

*******

You gently slumped against Tyler’s side. Reaching, you placed your fork with a clank on the plate in front of you, only some cornbread crumbs remained.

“You did it. You made a half way decent meal which you didn’t burn.” You said with a half smile on your face.

“Well, I got to do good by my girl.”

******

His sheets were softer, his pillows fuller and they smelled liked him. His bed, softer then the bunks easily gave under the weight of the two of you.

He was partially on you, your arms around him. His hair soft, as your fingers entwined in the inky strands. Your lips had met and not wanted to part. They were much softer now, then a few month intervals after discovering that softening ointment. It beat away the chapping the wind whipping at your faces did and made the kisses all the more enjoyable. They were far sweeter then any candy you could save up for with your credits.

Pausing, as you felt his hand slipping under the hem shirt you wore; you excitedly letting your fingers leave the softness of his hair pulled up on the shirt and more of yourself was revealed to him. You happily tossed it without worry. His room was always clean and fresh, once he had peaked into his cousin’s room and they couldn’t be anymore opposite.

It puzzled you that Navarro could even tolerate it. But then again the two of you were also very different.

You were soft compared to his toned torso. It excited you and made you feel safe. You had seen him handle himself more then one time at the Bar. Whether defending your honor, his sisters or some stupid fight by the tempers flairing.

Opening, yourself you did so with a warmth and love that you would never allow the company steal away from you.

His lips, grazed your cheeks as he drew close to ear to whisper soft words only spoke between the two of you. Never to be shared.

“Are you well, is now a good time?” You could practically feel his heart thudding in his chest.

You nodded.

The first time or at least the aftermath of it had been right on the cusp of your cycle. Your excitement of him reciprocating your feelings and sharing first touches, kisses had stolen your body’s cues to its soon arrival. When the two of you had awoken the next day, worry had clouded your mind, believing it had ruined any chance of continuing things. But he had been kind, warm not just the cheeky guy who had made your heart squeeze with a wink or a smirk.

“I could barely focus these last three weeks, all I could think about was this. I needed to fuck, my sweet girl, remind her who I am after being off world for so long.”

The contrast to his sweet nature and razor sharp lust, made you moan and make your desire sharpen for him.

“I’m all yours.”

A soft moan broke from your lips and his, as he entered you. You arched against him, you had craved him as well. It had been hard to not answer any of the wanton calls from your body in his absence. Together you found your rhythms and moved. Your breathless moans became louder, sharper the closer you drew to cumming hard under him. You always felt so wonderfully wilted liked the dried flowers people once would keep in those books you had read from that had spoken of love and dreams.

Clutching him hard, your fingers gently pulling on his soft strands you arched against him once again. Your body tightening with pleasure he was giving you. Before you could hold it; it all shattered into moon dust. You softened and wilted under him. He was and would only be the only one to ever make you feel like this.

You met his hungry kisses, whimpering at the well placed love bites, he loved leaving. You felt how his body tightened above you. His deep, pleasure filled moan that filled the small room, you knew he had felt what you had. You relished making him feel just as good. His breath hot as he panted, a soft peppering of kisses as he rested his forehead against yours.

*******

“Hey! Where are you going?”

You had thought you could safely grab your discarded shirt from earlier and curl back up to his side before he even noticed. But that wasn’t the case.

One of his strong arms wrapped around you and held you tightly against him. You turned easily in it to face him. “Was just grabbing my shirt. I had taken a small chill.”

“You’ve got me.” And soon he pulled the blanket and himself closer around you. You were enveloped by him, almost completely.

You pretended to think about it. “This is so much better.”

“It had better be.” And he gave you a quick kiss.

The rain streaked down his window. The brightness of the fluorescent lights that lined the roads of the colony were muted from where he was.

“How long do I have you this time?” You whispered after a few beats of your heart.

“Long enough.”

You wanted to reply with the snappy answer that it never was but you learned this, right now was long enough. Every moment the two of you were together was.

A commotion, peels of laughter and a door slamming shut; drifted through his closed door.

“They’re home.”

You could practically hear him rolling his eyes.

“Hey, hey you’re here lady. Missed you! We need to catch up and have some girl talk in the morning!”

“If she’s awake.” Tyler called back.

“Hey! I wasn’t talking to you.”

You giggled against his chest. “Sure! Sounds like a plan.” You finally called back.

“Great.” She called, her voice further away and then you could hear the one creak in the floor that you knew meant she was now by her own room.

“Here we go.” Tyler whispered.

As the exaggerated laughter came closer flowed by a thud as either Bjorn or Navarro bumped his door, by tipsy accident or deliberate. When they had a few drinks one could never be sure.

“Tyler, now you better be treating that girl of yours in there right. No funny business.”

“Hey, hey now.”

There was a smack and a similar oww, must run in the family you mused.

“He used to be a brute my cousin. He had to learn to be nice and charming.”

“He was always charming and nice to me.” You spoke up.

“Good.” His cousin replied.

“See she confirms. He’s been good to her.”

“Do I give him a gold star then?”

“Come on, let them have some peace. I want to get out of these high boots.”

“Now, I like hearing that.”

And there was only muted muffled sounds, if at all.

“Now that the circus passed.”

You giggled and shook your head. “You love them.”

“I do. I do.” He stretched, but still kept an arm around you. He gave your hip a squeeze.

“So you used to be a brut huh?”

“Yes, but you changed things.” He winked.

[n7punk]

"Lightbeam" Fic Notes

Pretend I posted this *checks watch* two days ago when I finished Lightbeam. I got busy lol and I was playing Stardew Valley.

Epilogue Life:

:) You’ll have to wait

Chapter 1:

⦁ This fic was originally written back in February after Embrace the Blame in preparation for the Bang. TLDR is we needed to have the fics ready early so the artists could then illustrate them, so I just wanted to write the whole thing at once because that’s how my projects work. I actually finished Embrace the Blame a few days before I posted the final chapter(s) because I had been posting it on a schedule and I could just continue using that as I worked on this to make the gap in my posting overall smaller. I think it actually took me like two weeks to write this, which is why there was a week and a half between the end of EtB and start of MMaM (and of course I had to write MMaM some too, but I already wrote the first few chapters ages ago). It’s also why there was almost two weeks between Start Your Engine finishing and Our Love Is God starting. I wrote the entire rough draft in February, and during that break I edited and finalized the fic for posting in May. I also just had a lot going on then, but yeah this fic has been slotted in between my others over the last few months.

⦁ Adora’s father’s information was left blank because she was an immaculate conception. More on this will be explored in the sequel fic <3

⦁ Norwyn is officially unnamed in the reboot I think but he’s one of the higher-ups at Mystacor. In the OG he was Shadow Weaver’s mentor.

⦁ Adora’s weather powers come up a lot in the first few scenes and I wish I had more “diversity” in magical incidents, but the problem is, as outlined later in the fic, Adora has no idea the stuff she’s doing (see: her coffee) and the weather stuff is pretty much the only consistent thing she has identified as maybe her fault. There was initially also mention of a drowning incident she miraculously survived when learning how to swim that even she knew was weird, but it ended up cut for flow.

⦁ In general, magic is normal, inevitable, and accepted, but there are still some “normie” communities that pop up in small pockets and want nothing to do with, say, a lesbian drowning the upper east side by accident on a Wednesday afternoon because she’s sad. Legally they can’t do anything to “discriminate”, but it’s a culture thing. Catra faced constant bullying and Adora was only safe because she didn’t even know if she had magic. Weaver moved there after getting cursed from her own incompetence because they easily believed the story that someone else cursed her and welcomed her in as a victim with open arms. Her understanding along with rejection of magic made her the perfect person to point to justify their ignorance (see, even a once-sorceress can be turned on and reject magic when she realizes the dangers. Etc). The main reason she moved there was just because there was less magic in the area, though (part of the reason a normie community popped up there), so it made it easier to manage her curse because it was weakened.

⦁ Oh boy, the Whispering Woods section. So first, I should say the version in the fic is pretty much what I originally outlined. The only big difference was Adora was supposed to find out about Razz from her research and went seeking her out rather than going there following her “mom.” I couldn’t figure out what that research would look like, though, so I went with the mom thing because that aligned with her backstory. My big problem was that I got a new idea once I got to writing the woods and the new idea was bad but it felt like reversing progress to go back to the original thing. The new idea was that Mara was an ancient She-ra who fell in love with Light Hope and, in her grief when Light Hope died, accidentally transformed her soul into a guardian spirit who would watch over future She-ras and “keep them safe” so they don’t get in a position where they, yknow, accidentally warp time and space and the laws of physics again. Light Hope was the one who actually sent the lightning, sent Catra, and protected Adora when she was drowning when she was seven. Adora would find the hut, would talk in circles with Razz, spot Catra who immediately fled, and get so frustrated and sad it started pouring rain, which forced Catra to flee back in through the window and into Adora’s arms for safety from Razz but she refused to change back because she was mad at her. While waiting out the storm, Adora eventually had the idea to google guardian spirits, found different methods for getting in contact with them, and tried meditation. This is around when I realized this whole set-up was bust, but the idea was going to be that she got in contact with Light Hope, had her powers she wasn’t in touch with explained to her, and told Light Hope to stop the wrath of god shit. Light Hope’s existence kind of wiped out everything I had planned for what was supposed to be the actual fic with her learning her powers. This new backstory changed everything and ruined what I actually wanted to write about, so I went back to my original outline. It’s way better for it and it meant I actually got to do the slow discovering and mastering of her powers I had planned, but boy can it be a struggle to dig yourself out of a hole and lose “progress”.

⦁ Catra eating the pie was actually a joke from before I started working on the fic. The original joke was that she was legitimately visiting the woods just to “steal” food from Razz and this was a thing she did on the weekends sometimes because they all lived nearby. Razz was fine with sharing with her cat “guest” in this version and seemed oblivious to the fact she was a person. This got changed because 1) Even if I changed it so they were all living near the woods and there weren’t barriers to Catra and Adora spending time together early on when she’s reluctant, that then posed the question of why the hell Adora hadn’t tried visiting her mom’s place already if it was easily accessible, 2) while I think Catra taking the pie once she knows about it is in character, her ever wandering through the woods enough to even find Razz to steal from wasn’t, so the basic set up didn’t really work, 3) the final version, with Adora’s powers going haywire and bringing her there, is way more impactful and in line with the fic’s story. It gives Catra a motivation to keep in contact with Adora after this point and illustrates definitively just how powerful Adora’s powers can be when she’s still in denial about the “warping the fabric of reality” thing.

⦁ Agatha Trunchbull was the basically demonic head mistress in Matilda, which, from my understanding, had a fucking torture closet she would lock kids into, in addition to regularly assaulting them like when she clobbered a massive serving tray over a kids head. I haven’t actually read the book, I just knew someone who liked it growing up and I went to the wikipedia to be sure when I went for the reference.

Chapter 2:

⦁ Adora’s spiraling and exaggerating, but empaths do need to actually hold the hand of someone and open their heart to feel their energy, so Adora isn’t likely to ever cause an accidental concussion as long as she’s careful about who she holds hands with.

⦁ “Catra sends her a condescending look that makes Adora blush for some reason.” It’s because you like belittling, idiot.

⦁ Catra’s kitten form is partially a result of trauma and partially natural self-defense. Having such a small form allowed her to hide and slip away when she needed safety from Weaver/bullies/etc. The trauma getting a little better is why she was able to “grow up” a little but she was right that it’s permanent in the sense she will never be able to have an adult form.

⦁ The meditation was actually a lot more helpful than Adora gave it credit for, but again, lack of self-awareness.

Chapter 3:

⦁ Adora’s whole thing about “oh, I’ve never actually experienced this thing I’ve heard talked about” is definitely a realization I’ve had a few times in my life, usually in some medical context though, like when I found out I’d never had an actual runny nose because I’d never breathed through my nose before.

Chapter 4:

⦁ Catra is being especially cuddly as a cat because it’s an “acceptable” way to get snuggled up close so she can then transform and properly cuddle Adora.

⦁ Catra showing up at her door as a cat was literally just because I wanted an excuse to write more kitten!Catra I was ready to be done with her yet lol.

⦁ I’m planning to write a sequel fic set a few years down the line once Catra and Adora are married, but as you know if you’ve been following my Tumblr, I have like three active WIPs demanding attention, so that’s going to have to wait.

⦁ This isn’t related to the fic so much, but this was my first time ever doing a fandom event! There’s definitely zines and stuff I would have wanted to participate in before but I only ever learn about these things after they’re already over lol. I loved being part of this Bang and oh my god do I love the illustrations so much Karo did an INCREDIBLE job. I knew I wanted to participate in the Bang the second I heard about it, but picking a fic was hard. I really wanted to write something in canon but didn’t think any of my current OotW ideas would be long enough for the word count requirement. At that time, I had a canon divergent AU ready to go, but it was Make Me A Monster and I wanted to do something happy so… yeah that was a no go lol even if someone might have wanted to draw the cybernetics. Lightbeam ended up being the perfect option because it was 1) fairly short for an AU but long enough to meet the requirement and post over the week, 2) light-hearted, 3) had plenty of scenes I thought someone might want to illustrate between Adora’s powers and kitten!Catra, 4) I’ll be honest, it kind of felt full circle, because…

⦁ At the start of this year I posted freak occurrence: confluence as a celebration of over three years of posting Catradora fics and finally getting to my fics being 1% of the entire Catradora tag on AO3 (next goal is 1% of the SPOP tag — JOKE THIS IS A JOKE THAT’S NEVER HAPPENING). It featured tons of my Catradora couples from various AUs — including one AU that hadn’t been posted yet. I’d had the freak occurrence fic idea for three years, so whenever I came up with a new AU I’d picture its Catradora in that scenario, which meant I’d already thought about what Lightbeam’s couple would do in that scenario even though I hadn’t written it yet. Getting to post it as part of the Bang was so exciting and I hope it lived up to expectations! The version that was featured in that fic was a few years older, when Adora had a better grip on her magic, but you’ll see a bit of that in the sequel fic.

Meta:

Playlist

Upcoming:

I have a one shot I’m probably going to post in the next couple days and then I’m aiming for Slipstream (my hacker AU) but uh….. Something is coalescing that may also demand attention. Stay tuned ig lol

[statictelevisionart]

soooooo- I might’ve made a Flora x Iris fic

here you go you little obsessed gremlins :)

(it’s not my best work since I wrote it at like 3am tho)

I woke up in a cold sweat. I had just had a nightmare like no other I’ve had before, one that I was honestly shocked my brain was able to make. I’m used to having nightmares since I might have kinda been cursed… BUT THATS NOT IMPORTANT RIGHT NOW OK!? Anyways, it was horrible, I wanted to cry, yell, something…but I didn’t. I looked to my side to see my girlfriend, Iris. She was sleeping peacefully like always. When she’s asleep, it’s nearly impossible to wake her. I decided I was going to go downstairs to get some water and contemplate my entire lives decisions.

         A little backstory on how the hell my life got to this point: my name is Flora, when I was younger and dumb, some weird f-cking demon cursed me so no man would ever love me. Jokes on them, I’m a lesbian so it actually kinda helped me. Now there aren’t any creepy guys hitting on me. I also have a girlfriend who is literally the best yada yada, whatever. If I keep talking about my girlfriend for too long I’m gonna go on a rant about how much I love her and I don’t think anyone wants to listen to that.

        I went downstairs and grabbed a cup of water. My phone said it was 4 AM.  I just drank my water and wondered what would’ve happened if I were to, I don’t know… NOT BE LITERALLY F-CKING CURSED BY A DEMON!!! Oh, and by the way, the demon also cursed me to have nightmares every night. You would think I would be desensitized to them but NOPE. Still scare the living hell out of me EVERY. SINGLE. TIME.

        Yea. Not fun. I started thinking about the nightmare I had, the heart rate increased, my hands got shaky, my breathing got shallow. Oh for f-cks sake. yup. I was having a panic attack.

    Look, I’m not an expert on what the hell to do during sh-t like this. So I just kinda stood there. I felt like was gonna literally collapse. I shut my eyes tightly just hoping, begging for this to stop.

      But that’s when by some miracle my girlfriend, Iris woke up. THANK THE GODS HOLY HELL THAT WAS PERFECT TIMING.

    At this point I had my eyes shut and was just trying not to collapse. Iris rushed over to me and instantly picked me up. Yes, I might be taller than her by like 7 inches but she can still carry me like I’m a child. She brought me to a chair and make me sit down, my breathing slowly went back to normal and my heart rate was no longer fast. I opened my eyes back up as iris spoke to me 

      “hey, shh it’s ok. I’m here for you, Flora. You don’t have to hide anything from me honey.”

     Her words brought tears to my eyes as I realized that I wasn’t alone. I had my amazing, kind and beautiful girlfriend here with me to help me. I looked at her, most people only know her for her strange appearance, it can be rough for entities like us to fit in with humans. She had an eye for a head, most people would be a bit freaked out… but not me. I mean, I’m just as strange since I have a flower for a head. I hugged her tightly, as I hugged her tears started rolling down my face. I don’t cry often, and when I do I never cry in front of people. I don’t like showing weakness. I’m supposed to be the strong one, the rock for others to lean on, not the one who’s crying.

       Iris patted my back as I cried and she hugged me. “Shhh, it’s ok honey, you’re ok…” Iris said to me. I eventually stopped crying, me and Iris got back in bed and slept.

[autisticlalna]

the weird thing about finally writing work a miracle is, like,

sometime during 2015ish, maybe early 2016ish (kinda hard for me to pin down), a friend messaged me on skype and went "hey, these two guys remind me of our ocs" and sent me a link to the first episode of the apprentice. and we watched the apprentice together, and galacticraft, and sometime during flux buddies prime i started watching on my own and blitzing through it as fast as possible until i finally caught up and started watching episodes as they came out

i had a multimuse rp blog at the time that was just, like, whatever my current hyperfixation was. and so when i was still near the start of fbprime i threw nano on there and started rping with people that had minecraft or minecraft-adjacent settings (shoutouts to CG, little talks still makes me cry too), and in what was supposed to be a one-off thread i decided to rp lalna.

and then the multimuse multiverse rp blog switched to a flux buddies (and baddies) rp blog. and then gradually turned into a lalna rp blog.

and, at the same time i was doing rp stuff, i started writing fic.

my writing back then was Not Good. i was halfway through fbprime while fb2.0 was ongoing and working off incomplete theories and out of context spoilers. i was still finding a style, and my characterization had a lot of holes in it, but i spent a Lot of time just.. writing. building up this massive story in my head of "okay, here's the backstory, here's how i think things would go with my headcanons in play, here's some ocs supplied by my friends and some off-the-cuff shenanigans, here's some spontaneous rp plotlines that would be really interesting if i turned it into a whole fic somehow"

eventually i started having trouble maintaining the rp blog and would take long, unannounced hiatuses. usually because of mental health or because of a really disastrous event. i still drew stuff now and then, and tried writing stuff now and then, but eventually i came to terms with the fact that i just.. couldn't continue. and i gathered up everything i'd made over the years, sorted through it, and went "i'm going to make something out of this". and that became the foundation of work a miracle. it also became the foundation of solar's fic vindicate me!, which was inspired by how i write lalnable and five (as well as some events that happened on the rp blogs)

sometime in 2019, i started writing. it was supposed to be a super long multi-chapter fic spanning from the apprentice to the end of flux buddies prime. it was extremely rough, and i only completed 3 chapters and a bunch of scattered scenes before i dropped it. later that year, another major life upheaval hit and i tried to find something to anchor onto while i sorted myself out. that's when solar suggested a rp where we switched roles: i wrote kakujo, and they wrote the flux baddies. that's how we got the hec and jo show, and from there the wider idea of KJFB. a month later i surprised solar with a pmv, just goes to show that you never can tell.

(i wrote a sequel fic, double up!, which i ended up only sharing with solar until finally posting it years later. it was my first time writing lalna since abandoning the blog.)

and like.. for years, i kept wanting to pick that original fic idea back up and do something with it. i kept slowly refining it, i started doing shitpost ideas like the lalna chart and connected things like alpha-z, even dreamout is tied into the base idea behind work a miracle. i started an animation meme that i'm still working on, i've talked to solar and co about my ideas for the flux buddies in spau (which is why there's a shadow on the lalna chart), i have fic titles and bullet-point outlines and everything except the actual fic.

and then at the start of this year, while sick and exhausted and generally having a bad time physically and mentally, i started writing. and now i have 2 chapters written of the first Work A Miracle fic, Surviving Your Apprenticeship, a 5-Step Guide.

i guess what i'm getting at is that it's really weird that i'm finally writing what is essentially a rewrite of some fics i wrote when i was 19 and also is the culmination of like 8 years of coming back to an idea again and again and again from different angles and in different forms and hoping this one'll stick

[awaylaughing]

More Echo lore? More Echo lore! Mostly backstory stuff I need to blort out somewhere and a txt file isn’t itching the urge this time. It’s long, sorry mobile users. TW for discussions of abuse, drugs and alcohol, the sex trade

Echo as born to a very young woman in a bad situation and adopted out privately in 1977. She was raised by her older single mother Daphné and named Camille.

Daphné was a fantastically intelligent and artistic Cajun woman who’d been the wife of a university prof. She’s the one who took all his notes for him, kept them in order, typed up his research, found and synthesized other research so he could use it, etc. Naturally, when they got older he ran off with a young co-ed and left her with no credit and very little money (they settled out of court, she had regrets) and old car she had no use for.

Echo never knew the prof, but she knew she didn’t like him but she did like his car, and her mother’s garden. These would become defining parts of her unlife and life respectively.

Daphne opted to teach Camille at home, distrustful of Lousiana public schools after her own suffering as a French speaker. Echo didn’t speak English until she was almost 10 as a result when she made her first same-age friend. In fact she spoke Spanish first, Daphne was friends with a lot of local cultural preservationists and that included Bayou Lafourche’s Brule Spanish speakers, though today Echo’s Spanish is more Northwestern Mexican impacted.

Camille went into Ecology at Tulane when she was only 16 (Sept bday + accelerated homeschool learning) but she washed out at 18/going into third year after Daphne died and she lost her meagre financial support due to her slipping grades.

This is how she met Michael. Michael painted himself as the sensitive musician sort, and the lonely and grief-strike Camille fell right for it and ended up following him and his band on tour. Turned out Michael was a manipulative and often emotionally abusive asshole, after a year she finally had enough and after catching him with another woman she stole all the band’s good gear and took off.

Michael was big mad but he stuck to his image as Tormented Romantic Artist and wrote a song called “Camille” that’s this lovelorn post-punk ballad that really plays up her Frenchness in a distinctly “jaded urbane Parisian” way. Echo supposes it’s better than a misogynistic breakup song but she still fucking hates it not least because she’s from very rural Louisana thank you very much.

Sadly it’s considered one of the breakout songs of their breakout album. 2002 was a rough year for Echo’s radio listening habit; it’s how she got into classical.

The Michael years weren’t just bad because he sucked, she’d started drinking after Daphné died and it got worse and eventually the cultural of road travelling musicians got to her and she got tangled up in drugs pretty badly.

1998 was also not a great year, she didn’t have a stable income and found herself in the sex trade. While there’s nothing inherently bad with that, Echo very much didn’t want to be there: she just didn’t see other options.

She started attending AA meetings to try and get her life in order. Then promptly met Brian and ended up being fed vampire blood. Bright side: really made the drug cravings go away.

Is very, very ashamed of the fact she used her history to then exploit similarly desperate people for Ypotryll regardless of how in control she was given the unknowing ghoul things she had going. This more than anything is something she wishes she could make up for and why she tends to help humans when she can.

Weird bright side to all this, her familiarity with destructive and dangerous cravings makes her great at knowing when she can’t risk feeding directly from people. And some of the “managing your urges” techniques still translate.

Darkly funny ending note: she was turned four days before the whole “clan Ravnos tore itself apart” thing started. Her survival of that event made local news in the region after park rangers were baffled by a swathe of violent animals death. They feared it was rabies but lucky for them it was just an isolated Ravnos with no humans or kindred to maul. Echo says this is the only part of her disappearing and dying that ever made it to print.

[seijorhi]

hi rhi!! i don’t know if you’re still interested in doing these but would you mind giving us some director’s commentary for sink to the depths? thank you for sharing your amazing writing!!

hey nonnie, ofc!

under the cut because once again this turned into a mini essay :'))

so initially because this fic was for the Christmas bash event it was supposed to be kinda christmassy themed. i had this rough idea of the reader being stuck with bonten for a year, culminating in the death of your brother at mikey's hands as a twisted kind of christmas present.

and it'd be kind of a double blow, because not only do you watch your brother and only remaining family get shot right in front of you, but it also hits you that you've been there with them for an entire year without even realising it. very angsty and awful, but then christmas came and went and tbh i actually forgot that's what i had planned lmao.

so instead i decided to just do little vignettes with each character kind of building up to mikey. and instead of him killing your brother as the grand finale i actually had planned on having mikey get someone to tattoo the bonten hanafuda on you – the sort of final permanent nail in the coffin. you're not getting out of this, they're not going to get bored and let you go after they feel you've served your time or whatever. now this ending (or the build up to it at least) is hinted at in kakucho's part where he mentions mikey putting a leash on you.

eventually tho i decided this wasn't going to work for two reasons; one, the more i wrote the more i realised that the ending was leading more towards mikey becoming possessive of the reader and therefore having you bound to the gang rather than him specifically didn't sit right. secondly, while you can choose to imagine whatever you'd like because there's no canon indication one way or the other, i saw the tattoos as being something kind of sacred and important – a mark showing absolute loyalty to mikey and the gang as a whole, and therefore only for those who'd proven themselves. and while you might belong to bonten, you're never going to be one of them. so as sexy as forced tattooing was, it was a shelved concept.

the story was never going to have a happy ending. instead, i wanted each and every part to hammer home how hopeless your situation was, each part kind of getting progressively worse. you have koko's jealousy and that suffocating forced intimacy, then you have sanzu plying you with drugs. the mid-way point of kakucho saving you from being assaulted on the docks, but at the same time that visceral reminder that the men who all but own you are doing awful things and that in some sick way you should be thankful that you're not being subjected to the same fate. and then there's the humiliation the haitani's put you through at the bar before finally you get mikey locking you in his room and his complete loss of control.

and at the same time, you have that backstory – introducing your brother as the catalyst, and then that desperate, pleading hope that he's still coming to save you, that as bad as things are there's a light at the end of the tunnel because while he might not be perfect he's the only one you have left and you still have faith in him.

and the reveal (granted, probably not all that surprising) that he is in fact just a selfish asshole who set you up to take the fall for his actions, that all this time you've been suffering, waiting for him to come and get you out, he's all but washed his hands of you – it's a gut punch. and yes, sanzu kills him for it. and yes, he and takeomi bring you with them when they dump the body because you ask them to, but it doesn't change the fact that it's basically the point of no return.

no one is coming to save you. even if you can find a way out on your own, you have nowhere to go. the only people who care if you live or die are your captors. the only love and care that you're ever going to receive is what they give you. which in a sense sets the stage for stockholm syndrome, or at the very least an extremely toxic and forced case of dependency.

and maybe you would've found a way to live with that, live like that, if not for mikey.

bonten mikey is mikey at his darkest point. he's lost his brothers, his sister, pushed away every last one of his friends – anyone who could potentially pull him back from the brink. and then there's you, a girl who was never supposed to be anything more than a warm hole to fuck, something pretty to ruin because he can. and yet, somehow you become the only thing left he truly cares about.

is it any wonder that he'd cling to that?

and he's already almost lost you once, the incident on the dock proved just how easily it could happen. and the further he spirals into that black pit, the more it's as if he's pinned whatever's left of his own humanity onto you. we've seen that he's already a jealous and somewhat possessive person, and the worse he gets the worse those impulses get.

he's touchy enough around wintertime, particularly with the anniversary of emma's death looming. he's lost everything else he's ever loved, and he can't lose you. he won't. he's paranoid about it, obsessive even, and while it used to be enough for him to go about his day knowing you were either in the tower or out with them, suddenly it's not anymore.

the only way he can think to function without losing his goddamn mind over it is to lock you up and keep you exactly where he left you. safe and sound and untouched until he comes back. he doesn't want anyone else touching you; you're his.

he needs you. you're all he has left.

[bbq-hawks-wings]

Chapter 316: BBQ is capable of critiquing BNHA and… Oh boy.

Let's start this off properly, Horikoshi's typical quality of writing has been diminishing in recent chapters, but this week it was so different that it didn't even feel like Horikoshi was the one who wrote it.

To be clear, I'm not blaming Horikoshi for the issues I'm about to bring up. The man is criminally overworked, usually doesn't even get the final say in what makes it in the final drafts, and even in his other rough patches he's still produced decent chapters that hold up amongst the grand scheme of things. This feels like something else is going on behind the scenes, and while I have my suspicions on who/what might be the culprit behind it, I choose not to share it at this time because if I name names some people might go off on a crusade, and that's not what I want.

I just want to be clear that I'm not blindly firing off shots in the dark, but despite my frustrations I want to wait to see if this gets resolved down the line, and while I do I can complain about the specific reasons this chapter left such a bitter taste in my mouth.

Buckle up, buttercups, because we got a lot of points to cover.

Where's the Gun?

Not a literal gun, but I mean Chekhov's Gun. It has always been a staple of Horikoshi's writing and the reason so many of his long-standing plot lines have paid off so well.

Chekhov's Gun is a writing principal that if you see a gun on the table in the first act of a play, it will be used in the murder that happens in act 2. Basically, the author should include details that are relevant to the story and not betray the audience by leading them in one direction and at the last minute pull the rug out from underneath them to go in another direction.

Horikoshi has done this to phenomenal success in the past. Just as one example, he dropped hints about Nomu being human experiments early in the series but held off explicitly stating it for a while. He hinted at the loss of Shirakumo in the main narrative and that he was important to Aizawa and Mic as well as approved it for Vigilantes so when it was revealed that Kurogiri was Shirakumo's body, not only did it narratively make sense but it also pulled in Eraserhead and Present Mic's emotional stakes into the battle with the Doctor, and then when Ujiko reveals he was after Aizawa's quirk the whole time it made the payoff for Mic punching him in the face all that much better and brings the weight of his crimes and the impact they have on the victims full circle.

That's 3 different guns paying off in the long run: the Nomu, Shirakumo, and both Mic and Eraserheads' personal arcs past the loss of their childhood friend and that they could finally finish processing their grief and avenge him in full righteous fury instead of chalking it all up to cruel chance.

He has left details, some particularly innocuously, in plot lines like the Touya Todoroki reveal, Hawks' backstory, Shigaraki's blood connection to Nana Shimura, even with Mr. Compress's backstory, and more. When re-read, these details become more obvious and usually leaves us with a greater sense of satisfaction in the plot knowing that twists and turns were not only planned, but built up to and hinted at for us to find so the payoff is that much better and it feels purposeful instead of just shock factor.

None of that happened this chapter.

Lady Nagant has zero business being in this plotline. She was never hinted about before this arc, and her existence does nothing to tell us about the plot moving forward or the world that they're trying to change. Nothing her existence provides actually has any bearing on the universe or tells us anything we don't already know. But that's not how she was presented.

In the beginning we're given a glimpse of her helping Overhaul escape from Tartarus. The focus on her was odd enough to begin with as a new character, and the fact that she didn't look like she fit the profile of someone who belonged in Tartarus was like a flashing neon sign saying, "Pay attention! This new character is important!!!" She then shows up later with Overhaul in hand to attack Deku out of the blue. We get her talking about how she thought Overhaul might be useful and her disillusions with Hero Society. We catch her mannerisms with eery similarity to Hawks only to find out immediately after she was a senior colleague in the HPSC. Never once to my knowledge has Hawks referred to any of his senior colleagues as a "senpai" - not even his fellow heroes - and when he catches her in midair, he uses the words, "Don't die on me, senpai!" as if she's near and dear to his heart.

The entire character arc is set up for her to have known about Hawks and grapple with her desire to help people and her fear of re-creating what she hated, and this also set up Hawks to be the successor who succeeded where she failed and helped bring her to a place where she could be a hero without guilt again. What actually happened?

They're strangers.

They have never actually met before, and while he seems to know a lot about her, she doesn't even seem to have any idea of who he was - at least as far as being another hero under the thumb of the HPSC. So ALLLL that setup, all that gesturing, and all of the potential themes that would be right at home in an arc like this goes completely out the window.

Her story doesn't tell us anything new. The HPSC bad. We knew that. They're not above throwing innocents under the bus to achieve that goal. We knew that. They preyed upon young hopefuls with powerful quirks with the intent to maintain the status quo. We knew that even if the fact that Hawks isn't the only one now makes more questions than answers. We know that these young heroes can never say no under threat of steep, life-shattering consequences. We knew that already.

So what does Lady Nagant even bring to the table?! The entire "you're just a puppet doing what you've been told" angle is a little tired and out of place in this point and time with actual anarchy in the streets (not to mention hypocritical considering she was a blind puppet following orders and offers zero actual solutions that supposedly fall in line with her heroic nature), and it could have been left to any number of other villain characters who could have executed on the theme better - you know, like Shigaraki who's justification this entire time has been, "hero society doesn't make people safe, it just makes them feel safe" from the moment of his inception.

So from that angle she's unnecessary.

Her presence messes with the continuity of the series as well. If Hawks is supposed to explicitly replace her, that would mean that he wasn't just a fluke find on the commission's part and grabbed to mold into their own special superweapon; and that also would mean that her killing of the former president was before he was discovered which should put her at least in her forties. If this isn't the case, and he was meant to simply replace her in a "special agent" case, that still begs the question of how many more gifted children the commission preyed upon and are still out there.

And maybe the worst kicker for me is that something stinks. The way the art in this chapter is presented, if you completely blanked out the speech bubbles, is the same setup I had before - Hawks reaches out to his former mentor and pulls her from the brink of despair with a moving message about why he never gave up hope in being a hero who could actually make a difference.

Again, this is not what we got. He claims he knows her, and it's implied to have been a deep, personal character witness; but at best he only knows about her from secondhand sources. Even his reasoning as to how he never lost hope doesn't vibe with his character.

We have gotten so many cool one-liners for Hawks, but there has always been a consistent tone and imagery with them.

"Those who can fly, should."

"I don't belong in a cage."

"I'm free of my shackles."

"Can I be a shining light, just like him?"

What we got was, "I'm an optimist to a fault" which was the wording the official release went with and was by far the best iteration I have seen, but even this falls short of being truly in character for him and answering her question properly.

@mikeana made an edit of the titular panels for us Hawks stans this week with dialogue we and a few other friends felt was more fitting not only with the imagery of the chapter itself but internally consistent with the specific expressions Hawks uses in his heartfelt, personal dialogue. I just tweaked it a little bit more to fit what I was going for in our original conversation.

Which brings me to another concern.

2. What's the point?

There was no use for Nagant in the series as she's been presented so far. But more than that, Hawks has no business in this fight to begin with. He literally did nothing to earn this emotional moment, and this should have been Deku's moment.

We were teased in an interview with Horikoshi that Hawks was going to get a special moment as an important end-game character as a "shining light" of hope for others to follow as well as promises for Ochako to have another moment in the spotlight to make a difference.

If this was Hawks' shining light moment, it wasn't necessary, and it does nothing to move the plot forward or develop characters in any true or believable way. It just happened because plot. This should have been Deku's victory through and through, and even he is the reason BOTH Hawks and Nagant made it out alive instead of painting the street below them.

Deku's victory was stolen from him, too. It sours the other promises made to us about other characters moving forward, as well, if this really was Hawks' "Shining Light" moment.

By the way, did you forget about Overhaul? Me too!!! What was the point of getting our hopes up about reintroducing this beloved character with the implications this was a major arc setup to have him scream about pops and then get detained with no clues about what's going to happen to him besides, "Say you're sorry to Eri, and you get to see pops"?!

All this posturing and clumsy narrative flailing only actually succeeded in getting Deku in front of AFO again for plot when we already know Mr. Potato Head could summon, show himself to, or find Deku at any time he wanted. But instead we get this time skip with a bunch of heroes completely mended walking into a big, spooky mansion for AFO to evil monologue at Deku for… *counts*

FOUR PAGES!!!

Only to then give him the "I want YOU!" point over a pre-recorded message and the final nail in the coffin to me that something is off.

3. Ex-pu-LOOOO-SHUN!

It's become almost a game among friends to count how many explosions have happened since the end of the war arc - and specifically fake-out explosions. In the end of 311 we get All Might's car attacked via explosion and Deku cornered by Nagant only for All Might to be fine in the next chapter. In 315 Lady Nagant herself explodes in a blaze of glory to once again not be dead.

Gee! I wOnDeR if aLl the heroes were AcTuAlLy cornered and KiLlEd in that explosion in the mansion!

None of us do. They're fine. We're going to see it first thing next week. The shock has worn off, and it's repetitive and annoying at this point. There is no cliffhanger despite how the framing might try to tell you otherwise.

It's BAD WRITING.

The writing has been moving far too quickly and clumsily with no explanation in sight, and even character interactions are being cut short to the point of them being meaningless and empty.

This doesn't even feel like Horikoshi's bad writing. It feels like someone else is trying to call the shots and rushing him through these final bits of the series, and he's run out of things he's previously set up for months and months to reappear so someone is trying to get Dabi-reveal levels of attention with arcs and storylines that don't have the build-up to result in a satisfactory payoff.

4. At least it can get better... I hope.

Maybe those who share my suspicions or know what particular suspicions I have are with me in believing that this is a temporary disappointment and we haven't seen the last of the writing that's captivated me for years. I don't blame Horikoshi for these glaring faults that all came to a head in this chapter.

It CAN get better later, and I think it WILL- we just probably are going to have to wait for it. Until then, I'm going to enjoy the Hawks panels we got, maybe edit the last few chapters to be more in line with something more like the BNHA I know in a "fix it fic" fashion so I don't groan in anticipation of how long it might take us to get there.

See you all next week, hopefully on a much brighter note.

[spectacles-blog]

Chapter 1 of a fanfic without a name yet. (Ink x Geno/Error)

“Who would’ve thought Fate had such a terrible sense of humor?!” -Error

Reblog over like

Silent sobbing filled the white void. Despite it being so soft, it could be heard everywhere around him. But there was no one to notice his pain, his sadness, his loneliness. There was no one to reach, no place to go to. Just a white, empty, endless void. No visible floor, ceiling or walls. All that existed was him and a few sketches of what was supposed to become his family and friends, his home.

Geno/Error - @/loverofpiggies

Word counter: 1570

~

Ink - @/comyet/mye-bi

A black void, the Save Screen as one had apparently named it, with only one inhabitant. He could see everyone, but no one could see him. He watched the happiness and terror of what was once his world. He watched them live and watched them die. Someone had taken his place and he couldn’t go back. The world lived on without him. Such a terrible thought. 

“Being forced to watch over a world in which you don’t exist…

Thinking about that terrifies me.

What about you?

Do you really exist? Do you really belong here?

...You can’t go back.

He thought of it as a joke back then, some insane people.

While you’re in here, do you still exist out there?

Which reality matters more to you?

You should start thinking about that.”

No matter what he thought about the dialogues himself, the loneliness and sight of other’s happiness was killing him. He couldn’t interact with them, only watch. The skeleton sat on the ground with his legs close to his chest. He just wanted someone to talk to, someone who understood the loneliness and boredom, the suffering of being imprisoned without a way to escape.

Do you believe it is possible to exist in two realities at once?

The skeleton stood up and opened a white screen. He put his left hand on it while he held onto his precious red scarf. “Just someone..” He whispered. “Anyone.. to talk to.” 

The white screen began to flicker like a tv. The skeleton took a step back, his eye sockets and eye lights widening. He didn’t think he would actually have any control of it like that. But, after a few minutes of staring at the screen, it went black to white as if nothing had happened. He sighed. It was dumb to think it would do something. He had no control, nothing.

“H-Hello..?” A soft, quiet voice came from the white void. A skeleton with rough edges, small white eyelights. Desperate. He was right there, his hands on the invisible screen. His eye sockets widened in shock when he saw the skeleton with white clothes and red scarf. A black void with one person. A place similar to his own. The other skeleton had his back turned towards him however and didn’t seem to hear him. “Hello?!” He said louder, slamming his fists on the screen.

New tears appeared in his eyes. This was his chance to meet someone! Someone could talk! Someone.. Possibly similar to him?

The other finally looked up, shocked at the sound. Like him, he stared with confused and surprised eyes at the screen. He ran towards the drawn skeleton, putting his hands on the screen. Someone to talk to, just as he asked.. Begged for. Something both of them asked for.

They stared at each other for a while until the skeleton with the red scarf spoke. “..Are you alright?” He asked.

A voice, something he had never heard before next to his own. Someone with feelings. “I-I..” The drawn skeleton whispered. A small genuine smile appeared on his face. “I am okay..” He released his fists and put his hands flat on the invisible wall, trying to push through. But the window didn’t move, not an inch. But at least, they had someone to talk to.

It was the first time the smaller skeleton had a conversation and it was such a nice one too! Well, he was mostly listening to the other skeleton with the red scarf. He told him about his old home. A nice wooden house with an amazing brother. About his friends and the people around him. While the backstory was sad, the present he seemed to talk about was very nice. Though, the scarf skeleton didn’t tell him why he was stuck in a void just like him. The drawn skeleton didn’t want to push it, so he kept quiet and didn’t ask about it.

Geno, was his name, the skeleton with the red scarf. He told the roughly drawn skeleton he had changed his name once, related to some unfortunate events, but that didn’t matter anymore. It also didn’t matter to the nameless skeleton. If that was what he wanted to call himself, then that would be just fine!

“What’s your name?”

The smaller skeleton snapped out of his thoughts and looked confused and puzzled at Geno. “..Sorry?” He replied quietly, tilting his head.

 “Your name?”

It took him a while to think of a fitting answer. Though, there was no answer. He didn’t have a name. Nothing in his world had a name. Everything was unfinished, a thrown away idea. “I don’t have a name.” The drawn skeleton eventually replied. “Nothing has a name here.” He said, looking over his shoulder at his unfinished family, friends and home. He wondered what his name would’ve been if his creator had continued working on his world. But that didn’t happen, those thoughts were just broken hopes and dreams.

“Then we will just make up a name for you.” Geno said and stood up. “One second, I got an idea.” He gave the drawn skeleton a quick wave and walked away. There wasn’t much to walk to but he happened to pick something up from the floor, before he returned and sat down again. He crossed his legs and used them as a support for the sketchbook. “I am going to draw you, okay? There are no mirrors, so I bet you don’t know what you look like..” He had an ordinary pencil in his hand and an eraser next to him on the ground.

“Draw?”

Geno nodded as he started to draw. “It’s.. a secret hobby I got. It clears my mind. I believe no one knows I draw. It’s like.. You can make whatever you want. You just got to put a little thought into it. The pencil makes the lines but you’re the one in control.” He hummed a bit as he drew. “You have to tell it what to do and if you practice enough.. Something beautiful will happen.”

He noticed the skeleton’s curious eyes and grinned. He shoved a bit closer to the screen and turned around so the smaller skeleton could watch him draw. The skeleton didn’t completely understand what was happening but it sure was interesting. Slowly, a picture appeared. 

It was him. A skeleton, rough edges, big eye sockets with small white dots as eyes. He was smiling. A genuine smile. 

Geno smiled satisfied when he heard the other giggle at the picture. Once he was finished, he wrote “Sketch” above the skeleton and held the paper against the screen. “How about I call you Sketch?” He suggested. “You look like you’re a living drawing, it’s pretty unique. I wanted to draw you just as you look!” He turned around so he could face Sketch again.. who was smiling brightly at the drawing.

 “Yes! Yes! That’s the best name ever!” The smaller skeleton called out with the biggest smile Geno had ever seen. “I love it.. Thank you!” It had only been a few days.. Maybe just a couple of hours, time was hard to tell in their voids, but the skeleton had built up such a fascinating personality. He was smart, curious and cheerful. Cheerful.. the opposite of Geno, though it was definitely cheering him up. At least he had something to do while they both spent their time in their separate voids.

“Can I draw too??” Sketch asked after a while of silence.

“... Sorry bud, I don’t think I can give you the sketchbook.” Geno said and put his hand on the screen. “It’s still as solid as a rock.” The other nodded and sighed. “Yeah.. Okay.” It looked so interesting. Maybe he could finish his own world like that! It would be nice, but probably impossible.

“Can you draw some more?” Sketch asked. “Can you draw your world for me?” 

It was saddening, how this skeleton longed for a world of his own. Geno knew his buddy would never get one though. The system wasn’t fair. He had learned a few things from Sketch though. He seemed to know a bit more about alternate universes or at least how they started. It was pretty interesting. He was aware, just like Geno.

“Of course.” Geno flipped over the page for a new one but didn’t start just yet. He looked at his illustration of Sketch and then at the actual skeleton. He put down the sketchbook and turned towards his friend. The skeleton with the scarf stood up with the drawing in his hands. He pushed the drawing against the screen and summoned a bone in his other hand, pushing it against the paper. He looked surprised at the result. It actually worked, it was pinned against the screen… Now his friend could actually look at the drawing, and many other drawings  would follow.

[First!] [Next soon maybe!]

[not-wholly-unheroic]

On the Origins of Hook: The Complicated and Often Contradictory Backstory of a Villain

The story of Peter Pan has been told and retold in writing, on the stage, and on the big screen countless times, yet in the original storyline, we are thrust into a world with a pre-established (and presumably long-standing) relationship between its hero and villain with little information regarding their pasts. So far as the audience is concerned, Peter and Hook have always been a part of the Neverland...yet as evidenced by the many retellings that attempt to answer the question of these characters’ origins, clearly, people want to know more. Barrie, however, leaves a great deal to the imagination and while he tackles a bit of Peter’s past in The Little White Bird, there is significantly less information about Hook in his writings, and much of it is up for debate, as Barrie arguably contradicts himself. 

In terms of canon (which for the purposes of this article I am limiting to Barrie’s final published version of the novel), much of what we know about Hook can only be inferred from a few brief passages. In the initial introduction of the pirates, Barrie gives us the following description of Hook:

In the midst of them, the blackest and largest in that dark setting, reclined James Hook, or as he wrote himself, Jas. Hook, of whom it is said he was the only man that the Sea-Cook feared. He lay at his ease in a rough chariot drawn and propelled by his men, and instead of a right hand he had the iron hook with which ever and anon he encouraged them to increase their pace. As dogs this terrible man treated and addressed them, and as dogs they obeyed him. In person he was cadaverous and blackavized, and his hair was dressed in long curls, which at a little distance looked like black candles, and gave a singularly threatening expression to his handsome countenance. His eyes were of the blue of the forget-me-not, and of a profound melancholy, save when he was plunging his hook into you, at which time two red spots appeared in them and lit them up horribly. In manner, something of the grand seigneur still clung to him, so that he even ripped you up with an air, and I have been told that he was a raconteur [storyteller] of repute. He was never more sinister than when he was most polite, which is probably the truest test of breeding; and the elegance of his diction, even when he was swearing, no less than the distinction of his demeanour, showed him one of a different cast from his crew. A man of indomitable courage, it was said that the only thing he shied at was the sight of his own blood, which was thick and of an unusual colour. In dress he somewhat aped the attire associated with the name of Charles II, having heard it said in some earlier period of his career that he bore a strange resemblance to the ill-fated Stuarts; and in his mouth he had a holder of his own contrivance which enabled him to smoke two cigars at once. But undoubtedly the grimmest part of him was his iron claw.

From this, we may be able to draw a few conclusions about who Hook was before he came to the island. (1) He was likely a sailor, if not a pirate, BEFORE he met Peter, given that he had previous interactions with “The Sea Cook”--that is, Long John Silver. (2) He was alive and most likely an adult by the mid 1700s, as in Treasure Island, Billy Bones--a former crewmate of Silver’s--has the date 1745 in his log and the dates 1750 and 1754 on his treasure maps. (3) Hook’s hairstyle and fashion is similar to that of Charles II, whose reign ended with his death in 1685. 

We are also informed by John that Hook was supposed to have been Blackbeard’s bosun. Blackbeard was born somewhere around 1680 and may have been a privateer earlier in his career at sea, but he didn’t actually take up piracy until 1716 and had only a very brief reign of terror before he was killed off the coast of North Carolina in 1718. Assuming Hook was meant to be Blackbeard’s bosun after he went pirate, this gives us a pretty narrow window of time during which Hook might have interacted with him. And, if we take the comment about the Sea Cook seriously, then Hook must have been pretty young at the time he worked for Blackbeard, given that there is a twenty-seven year gap between Blackbeard’s death and the earliest date Billy Bones offers in connection with Silver. 

Hook also uses words and phrases such as, “Pan, who and what art thou?” which would seem to indicate that he is from a time period centuries before the Darlings come to visit. (“Thee” and “thou” had pretty much completely fallen out of common use in English by the late 1700s/early 1800s.)

So far, so good. The dates might make it a bit of a stretch, but we can pretty comfortably say that prior to Neverland, Hook was a sailor--and probably a pirate--during the 1700s, was likely born in the late 1600s, and was possibly a related to Charles II, who had many illegitimate children. This possibility fits nicely with Barrie’s statement that, “Hook was not his true name. To reveal who he really was would even at this date set the country in a blaze.”

We don’t know much about his parentage, however, except that Hook’s voice cracks when he is speaking to Smee about mothers regarding the neverbird’s refusal to leave her eggs even after the nest falls into the water. Whether this is because he was close to his own mother and is lamenting her loss or he had a rather indifferent (or even cruel) mother and he is lamenting his own lack of a loving childhood is up for debate, though the official sequel, Peter Pan in Scarlet--written in 2006 by Geraldine McCaughrean--favors the second interpretation. (Again, however, for the purposes of this article, I am only considering Barrie’s published novel as canon.)

We also learn that Hook attended Eton, a rather prestigious school for boys between the ages of thirteen and eighteen. Assuming Hook completed his schooling there and was, therefore, at least eighteen by the time he joined up with Blackbeard, it would place his being born somewhere close to 1700. Assuming his interaction with Long John Silver was, at the earliest, probably around 1745, and that this interaction happened prior to his visiting the Neverland, it puts Hook (physically) at approximately age 45 by the time we meet him in the book, give or take a bit.

There are two potential problems with that timeline, however. (1) In Barrie’s original novel, only Peter stays young forever. The boys can technically grow up, and Peter “thins them out” when they do. (Decide for yourself whether that means banishment or something worse.) If this is the case, Hook shouldn’t still be alive or, even if the aging process is slowed down, at the very least, he should be an old man, given that the Darlings visit in the early 1900s...making him at least two hundred years old. (2) Near the end of the book, when Hook is trying to convince the boys to join his pirate crew and John asks innocently whether they would still be loyal subjects of the king, Hook responds with, “You would have to swear, ‘Down with King George!’” John (and likely the audience) assumes here that Hook is talking about King George V, who would have been the present king of England at the time the novel was published. If this is the case, how does Hook know who the king is? Has he been able to leave the island and find out this information? Or is Hook, perhaps, from a more modern era than we suspect? Cleverly, Barrie leaves this question open-ended, as Hook could just as easily have been referring to King George the First, who ruled England from 1714 until 1727. 

As for personal hobbies, we know only that he loves flowers and plays the harpsichord--an instrument that was once quite popular but which had fallen out of favor by the 1800s, replaced by the piano. 

The rest of the information we get from Barrie about Hook’s origins comes primarily from his “Hook at Eton” speech, delivered in 1927--many years after his original play (1904) and novel (1911). And here’s where things get interesting (read: contradictory). Because he wrote the speech so many years later,  as a sort of afterthought, and because of the inconsistences with the novel, I personally reject this information as canon. Nevertheless, it is Barrie’s take on his own character and, therefore, is worth at least considering.

In this work, we are told that Hook not only attended Eton but also--at least briefly--went to Oxford. This in and of itself poses no major problems for the timeline suggested by the novel.  What DOES pose a problem, however, is the fact that Barrie claims to have been in contact with Hook’s “Aunt Emily”--apparently his closest surviving relative--and has been in search of possible photographs of Hook during his time there. This would indicate that Hook MUST be from a much later, more modern era than the book suggests, as photography didn’t really come into fashion until the mid-1800s, and even if “Aunt Emily” is quite old (and she is likely a good fifteen to twenty years OLDER than Hook if we assume she is near in age to one of his parents) at the time of Barrie’s supposed meeting with her, she couldn’t have reasonably been expected to have been born before the early 1800s, placing Hook’s own birth nearer to the 1850s. While some of the information in the novel might be explained away to fit with this date (his choice of dress and hairstyle, for instance), he could not possibly have interacted with Blackbeard or Long John Silver. In fact, he could not have been a pirate--at least, not in the traditional sense--at all, as the Golden Age of Piracy (1650s--1730s) had long passed and the Age of Sail ended in the 1860s. Because of this inconsistency, some have argued that Barrie may have intended Hook to be a more modern man who essentially became trapped in a child’s fantasy land. He became a “pirate” only AFTER his interactions with Pan--that is, he took on the role of a villain because that is how Peter and the children imagined him--and that John’s assertions about his interactions with Blackbeard and Silver are merely rumors that the boy has heard.

Setting aside this apparent contradiction in the timeline, we DO learn some other interesting facts about Hook. For instance, Hook’s blood (which was said in the novel to be thick and strangely colored), is specified as having been yellow. This, along with his appearance having been described in the novel  as “cadaverous” has lead some to conclude that Hook was likely rather sickly as a child. We also learn that Hook enjoyed the Lake poets and strawberry mess (a dessert),  collected keys, performed well in sports while at Eton (though he did not like water sports as he rather surprisingly hated the feeling of water on his skin), and played the flute. We also learn that he was politically conservative and was probably never in a romantic relationship. 

There are a few other bits of information about Barrie’s idea of Hook that can be found in the early manuscripts for the play, which feature “deleted scenes.” One such manuscript--the earliest, I believe--can be found here. (Though good luck with reading it without going cross-eyed because Barrie’s handwriting is BAD.) However, I think this post has gone on long enough, yet we are still left with many unanswered questions. But perhaps this is what Barrie intended all along. Perhaps, fittingly, we are ultimately left to fill in the blanks about this villain of the Neverland with our own imagination. 

_____

Thanks to @katherinenotgreat for asking me to do a post on Hook’s origins. Thanks also to @concordia-cum-sinistro for your input. Feel free to add your own information regarding the original manuscript drafts, as I know you are more familiar with them than I am.

[violetwolfraven]

The King’s Men

Hey @buttons-and-gulons I wrote this as a Christmas present for you! You said you liked sprace so I decided to flesh out my backstory for Spot and his friendships with other Brooklyn kids and also include his relationship with Race in there! Hope you like it! Happy Holidays!

Tw: mentions of abusive parents, period-typical homophobia, some internalized homophobia, minor character death.

...

Sean was 6 when he ran away from home.

His father had been gone a year, and his mama resented her son as a reminder of how she’d wasted her youth on a man who never loved her. And after months of stress and anger being taken out on him in the form of cigarette burns and slaps to the face, Sean finally got the message. He took off onto the streets while his mama was at work, slept in an alleyway, and barely survived the rest do the week alone, a kid with no money and no home to go back to.

It was six days before a red-haired girl noticed him in that alleyway and asked where his parents were, and Sean said he didn’t have any even though as far as he knew, both his parents were still alive.

The girl introduced herself as Palomino. She was 12. Six years older than Sean. She was a newsie, and she was willing to take Sean home with her if he’d use his cuteness to help her sell.

Sean, not having anywhere else to go, agreed, and with a scarred-up little kid fronting, he and Palomino sold so many papers that they had to go back in the middle of the day for more.

She introduced him as ‘Spot’ that night at the Lodging House, and when Sean tried to object, she pretended not to hear. But she introduced him to the other Littles, to Rafaela, a year older, who’s real name wasn’t Rafaela, and Scabs, who was Sean’s age, who’s name definitely wasn’t Scabs.

Sean didn’t have many good memories attached to his name, anyway, so he let his new friends call him Spot, and he learned the best ways to sell alongside them, learned to fight and lie convincingly from older kids, learned to survive on the streets and avoid the bulls. The three of them kept their heads down to avoid the latest Brooklyn king’s wrath, and looked out for each other as best as they could.

‘As best as they could’ wasn’t always enough.

Spot was 7, Rafaela was 8, and Scabs was dying of tuberculosis that winter.

When Spot tried to tell the king he needed help, the older boy just looked vaguely unhappy, mentioned that they lost kids every year, and took a swig of the whiskey he’d bought with money he could have spent on medicine.

Palomino wasn’t much more help, saying that sometimes kids died and there wasn’t anything you could do about it, so you had to just say goodbye and hope they ended up somewhere nice. And what made that worse was that she clearly cared more than the king did, but still wasn’t willing to even try to save Scabs.

Spot was 7 the first (but not last) time he ended up in the Refuge, for trying to steal medicine for his friend. Of course, Snyder didn’t show mercy even to a kid so young, and the beds were somehow cramped and cold, so Spot spent every minute thinking of when he’d get out. He was stuck in that hellhole for two weeks, and though Rafaela and Palomino were waiting for him by the gate when his sentence was over, Scabs was already gone.

Unlike the girls, Spot didn’t get to say goodbye, and he realized he should’ve just listened to Palomino.

He felt stupid, crying over a friend he hadn’t even known a year. It was stupid, how one person being gone could mean so much. Too much. And it was stupid how Spot had even more nightmares than before, and he flinched when Rafaela tried to help him.

He understood now why ‘Mino held her friends at arm’s length. Why she didn’t get attached to anyone. It was so she wouldn’t miss them too much—wouldn’t cry—when they were gone.

So, Spot pushed Rafaela away. He stopped selling with her, stopped letting her try to help when he had nightmares. He tagged along with any older kid willing to take him, knowing none of those broken, rough boys and girls would let him get too close. They knew better.

He tried not to think about how hurt Raf looked at first, or how angry she got as time went on. As months passed, and then years.

Spot was 8 when York came along. Raf’s age, full of scars and stories he didn’t tell. He was mostly silent and thoughtful where the other kids were loud and rambunctious. Still plenty angry, just quiet about it. Smart. When he committed minor crimes (as most Brooklyn kids did) he didn’t get caught. He never said that he held back his anger quietly because one time he hadn’t and it had ended in him losing that right eye of his, but everyone kind of knew.

York was good in a fight, but as with Rafaela, Spot didn’t let him get too close. He kept them both at a distance, and it absolutely didn’t hurt how they got close without him, because it was better if Spot kept them out of his heart.

That didn’t mean he wouldn’t soak anyone who said something bad about either of them twice as fast as he would if someone said something bad about him, like when the latest king of Brooklyn made fun of York’s eye patch.

It was a different king than the one who let Scabs die, because of course it was. Brooklyn kings came and went fast, as soon as someone bigger/tougher/deadlier came along. But they were all indistinguishable from the others. Everyone was loyal to them only out of fear.

Spot should have known better. He was a Little. He was less than half the king’s size. He didn’t stand a chance.

But he threw the first punch anyway, and the only reason he survived that fight was because Palomino stepped in and reminded the king that he was a kid. He was young. And he had learned his lesson.

Spot absolutely had not learned his lesson. He was angrier than ever, but he let the older girl patch him up, anyway.

Spot was 8 and when he healed up, ‘Mino started teaching him to fight. Really fight. And no matter how many bruises accumulated or how many times he lost sparring matches, she wouldn’t let him stop learning. She kept pushing him harder, making him get stronger, goading him on until he could land a hit on her, until it didn’t matter that he couldn’t match her for strength or height, until he could knock down an opponent much bigger than himself.

She didn’t sell with him anymore, moving on to selling with Bart and Joey, a pair of siblings, the brother the same age and the sister two years older than Spot. It wouldn’t be until years later that Spot would realize she was doing that to protect him, so no one would suspect they were up to anything.

Spot was 9, Palomino was 15, and she showed up late to sparring sometimes. She sold at Sheepshead, but she’d never let him come with her. She’d never let anyone come with her anymore, but she slung a good 150 papes a day, so no one could argue.

Hildy showed up that fall, a 10-year-old who barely spoke a word of English, and while she fell in with the younger gang, the one Spot still kept at arm’s length, she was a bit separate, too, given that she had a hard time communicating.

She tried to make friends with Spot, and she was so innocent, at least at first, that it actually hurt to push her away towards the others, into that bubble Spot was always on the edge of but never let himself try to enter.

No one trusted anyone else completely in a borough that chaotic, but it definitely didn’t hurt how the others had a circle of at least relative safety and Spot wouldn’t, couldn’t let himself have even that much.

Spot was 10, and he was surprised to find that having made it to double digits didn’t make him feel much older or wiser. Palomino still occasionally made him spar with her, but she’d run out of things to teach him. Spot was getting big and strong enough that she didn’t have to go easy on him anymore, and sometimes he even won their sparring matches.

What was weird was that ‘Mino kept sneaking off to Manhattan, and Spot wasn’t sure why. It wasn’t like there was anything interesting in ‘Hattan. Even the kids who lived there weren’t especially interesting, if the ones Spot saw who came over for negotiations and things were any indication.

When he asked why, she simply said that he’d understand the appeal of Manhattan someday, even if Spot was pretty sure he wouldn’t. What did ‘Hattan have that Brooklyn didn’t?

It was later that year when Spot found out that Palomino wasn’t the only one with a strange fixation with Manhattan, when he accidentally caught Moony making out with a ‘Hattan boy a few blocks from the Brooklyn bridge.

This was significant because Moony was a boy, too. And Spot was pretty sure boys weren’t supposed to kiss other boys.

Of course, Moony said he’d punch Spot’s daylights out if he told anyone about him and that Manhattan boy, who’s name turned out to be Skittery.

Spot didn’t understand that. Sure, boys kissing other boys wasn’t legal, but it wasn’t like most of the Brooklyn kids didn’t commit worse crimes on a regular basis. They all stole and cheated when they had to, and they all knew each other did these things, so why was one more illegal action any different?

When he asked Palomino about it (even though he told Moony he wouldn’t tell anyone) she just laughed, saying she hadn’t pegged Moony as queer and that he should know better than to make out where people could see, but that he had good taste in boys.

But she also said that Spot couldn’t tell anyone, because Moony could get kicked out of the Lodging House at best, arrested and killed in jail at worst, and no matter what happened, it wouldn’t be good if anyone found out he was...

There was that word again. ‘Queer.’ Spot didn’t see why anybody cared so much, but he understood that if it could have such bad consequences, it was best for it to stay secret.

Unfortunately, Moony being queer didn’t stay secret. And after the secret came out, Spot never saw him again. That was when it hit that being queer wasn’t just a secret; it was dangerous.

And he still wouldn’t let himself be friends with any of the others his age, but that didn’t mean he missed how Raf snuck glances at Joey as much as she did at York, or how Bart blushed when the new kid, Vince, grabbed his hand to keep track of him in a crowd.

And that meant, even if he couldn’t have them as friends, Spot had to protect them. Sarcastic Vince, quick-witted Hildy, defensive Bart, funny Joey, tough York, and stubborn Rafaela.

And Palomino, too, he guessed, even if she didn’t need it, but the point was that to protect anyone, he had to keep an eye on them, which was closer than he’d let himself get to any of them since he was 7 years old.

Spot was 11 when he found a 5-year-old girl alone in an alleyway and saw himself in her, so he offered her a home.

And he tried to keep her out. He tried to keep that little girl from worming her way into his heart, but somewhere between giving her a piggyback ride to the Lodging House and teaching her to sell, Bluebird got in, no matter how hard he tried. It was scary.

But then again, the latest king, Joe Harris, was even more corrupt and tyrannical than the others Spot remembered, so maybe Blue sticking close to him was for the best.

Letting one person in didn’t mean you had to let in anyone else, right? And besides, Spot could protect one person close to him. Probably.

Or maybe not, because it turned out Joe Harris could hurt even those who seemed untouchable, with how Palomino stood up to him once and it got her killed.

Spot was 12, and he wished he could say that he didn’t grieve his mentor when she was gone. Because despite himself, he had cared about her, and it hurt so much that she was gone.

Joe killing Palomino was meant to scare off any others thinking of rebelling, and it did just that to most of them, but Spot just got angry instead.

He never forgave Joe, and he made a promise to himself that no King of Brooklyn would take anyone else from him again.

It turned out Blue was just the first crack in a dam, because after her, Spot found himself caring about more people. Mostly in the form of the others his age in Brooklyn, despite how hard he’d worked to keep them out. He’d never really be one of them after isolating himself for so long, but in finally letting himself trust them as allies, Spot found that it wasn’t as scary as he’d always feared.

Well, it was scary. But he knew that the others could take care of themselves, and it was certainly easier to help them do so if they stayed close.

And keeping them close meant more allies for what Spot had planned.

Spot was 13 when he challenged for king.

He didn’t have a choice. Joe was getting increasingly cruel, soaking anyone who so much as objected to any of his decisions and taxing the kids whatever he decided was fair for the right to sell in Brooklyn. With the amount he was charging, none of them would last much longer.

Spot knew the fight would be to the death. He knew Joe was a lot bigger and a lot more experienced, at 19, and he absolutely would kill Spot for posing a serious challenge.

But if it gave his friends the chance to survive, if it gave someone else a chance at winning another challenge, it would be worth it.

Making his first kill was the hardest thing Spot had ever done, but he did it, and he became the king of Brooklyn.

It wasn’t his last kill, either.

Over the next couple years, he had to kill Scarf’s father, and a particularly bloodthirsty gangster, and a few boys who tried to challenge for king. But he never enjoyed it, and it was all in defense of his kids, because as king he had to care for all of Brooklyn now. They were all his responsibility.

Still, the title of king meant a certain level of fear, which meant that none of them could care about him the way they cared about each other. And though a few others helped as much as they could, he was largely running the borough alone.

Spot was 14 when Hotshot showed up, an big, strong, angry 12-year-old who’d fight anyone who looked at him funny. The perfect second for a young king who needed to establish his reputation. All he had to do was tell the boy where to aim his anger, and people assumed that if he could get a kid like Hotshot under his thumb, he had to be just as aggressive.

But Spot didn’t let his second soak people who didn’t deserve it. He didn’t do it himself, either. He wouldn’t be like the kings he’d grown up under and let innocent kids get hurt for no reason. Spot swore it that first night when he killed Joe Harris and he did his best to uphold it. He would rather die than be like those tyrants, those power-drunk boys who didn’t care who they got killed.

Well, at least there was one thing about Spot that set him apart from the other kings, but it wasn’t necessarily a good thing.

If his friends (it still felt odd to call them that) had been cracks in the dam, Racetrack Higgins was the first wave of water that broke it down, only...

Race never pushed, never forced. He just proved that Spot could trust him over and over again, despite being Manhattan. He was kind and compassionate despite being willing to gamble grown men out of their pay. He was funny and brave and though he could talk his way out of most fights, he’d throw himself into one without hesitation for someone else’s sake.

And though Spot had known him since he was 12 and Race was 11, it wasn’t until years later that he realized.

Spot was 15, Race was 14, and Spot realized that he was well and truly screwed, because though he’d started letting others in a little, the problem was that the person he wanted to keep the closest, the person he trusted most, was a Manhattan boy. Was Race.

He loved Race. And that made him queer, and that was dangerous.

Of course that wasn’t exactly a fun realization, especially with how Race didn’t feel the same.

He couldn’t, right? Because Spot’s own mother hadn’t wanted him. Palomino had only cared for him as a sparring partner. His friends feared him and Bluebird and Hotshot only claimed he was like a big brother to them because they had no one else who even pretended to give a rat’s ass about them.

Race couldn’t want him, too, couldn’t love him back, because nobody really loved him. Spot had accepted that maybe him loving other people was inevitable, but he wasn’t stupid enough to think they would love him, too.

Spot was 16 and Race was 15 when he found out that wasn’t completely true.

Because they’d been in the middle of a fight. Spot was facing a potential king challenger and he’d wanted Race to sell in Manhattan for a few days so he’d be out of harm’s way. But while Race wouldn’t push on sensitive topics, he would fight against what he didn’t think was fair. He thought Spot needed as many allies close by as he could get.

Spot had gotten him pinned against the wall, yelling in the other boy’s face, and then he’d found out that his belief that no one wanted him couldn’t be true, because Race had kissed him to shut him up.

And Spot knew Race. He knew that he didn’t do anything halfway. If he was your friend, he was ride or die for you. Joey and Bart were his cousins, and they said he’d always been that way, diving into things head first, throwing his everything behind every move he made, confident that he was right.

Spot knew Race. He knew that Race didn’t feel anything halfway, either. He knew that to kiss him, Race would have to feel the exact same way he did, which was why he let himself kiss back, at least until he had to pull back and tell him again to leave the borough for a few days.

Race told him not to bother sending someone to tell him it was safe to come back until he was ready to talk, and Spot spent two long weeks winning against the latest challenger, but ultimately showing the kid mercy, then mulling over whether or not he wanted to send someone over to get Race.

He did, but he wasn’t sure if he should.

Spot was terrified.

He’d tried so long to keep everyone out of his heart. He’d fought even Race on that for a while after they met, not trusting that caring about him would lead to anything other than sorrow.

He still struggled with that, even as he sat with Bluebird and Scarf and the other Littles until they fell back asleep if they had a nightmare. Even as he enjoyed card games with Joey, Hildy, Hotshot, Vince, York, and Bart. Even as he attempted to make amends with Rafaela, his oldest friend, who was still cold to him.

Besides that struggle, any serious relationship was a stupid idea for a king. Spot had watched kings from his childhood lose anyone they genuinely cared about, one way or another. He’d watched them grieve siblings, lovers, friends, or were betrayed by one of the above and lost their lives for it. People you cared about were weaknesses, and weaknesses could be exploited if you weren’t careful, and that wasn’t even counting how Race was a boy.

Being a boy who loved another boy could make you disappear. And Spot was a hell of a lot better of a fighter than Moony had ever been, but that type of fighting was always only about protecting himself.

...or was it?

Spot had tried for years to not think of his old mentor, but now that he was thinking of her...

Palomino was a master manipulator because she knew how people’s minds worked.

She would know that even if she could win a challenge, Brooklyn wouldn’t respect her as king, a girl with no one but a bunch of Littles backing her up. But she would know that while she couldn’t be king, she could train someone to end the cycle of tyrants.

She would know that whoever she trained would have to be someone who wanted to be better than the bad kings they’d suffered under.

And she would know that whoever she trained had to be someone who had proved their willingness to fight for others multiple times.

What had she told Spot the one time he’d tried to ask her why she was teaching him to fight?

“Because you’s the only one who stands a chance. It has to be you.”

At the time, he’d thought she meant that he was the only one tough enough to survive her training, but...

She’d been playing the long game with Spot the whole time. She’d taught him to fight counting on the fact that he’d challenge for king one day and she hadn’t cared if she got to see it because she knew he’d win.

It hadn’t mattered that she didn’t live to see his reign because the king she’d made sure he’d have Brooklyn’s support out of loyalty instead of fear. A Brooklyn boy, born and raised, who could take care of himself in a fight but didn’t think of himself first.

It half made Spot want to punch her, for manipulating his entire childhood, but honestly, he wasn’t sure how much would be different if she hadn’t chosen him. He would have tried to challenge for king anyway, only he probably would have lost.

It was a hard decision, to be angry or grateful to her, and Spot’s verdict changed hourly, but he kept thinking about another thing Palomino had once told him.

That one day, he’d see the appeal of Manhattan.

Well, he saw that it was Race’s home, and he was safe there.

He saw that Jack Kelly himself was almost definitely queer, that there were plenty of teenage kids who fit the type and hadn’t disappeared yet. He saw how the Manhattan kids were unapologetic and how they didn’t even judge each other, for the most part. They were more of a family than Brooklyn and they weren’t scared to be who they were and love who they loved, be it platonic or something more.

Spot had to wonder how different he’d be, if he’d been taken in by Manhattan instead of Brooklyn. If he’d grown up alongside Jack and Race and Crutchie instead of Rafaela and York and Bart.

It was startling to realize that he didn’t want to know. Because despite the sacrifices he’d made, everyone he’d lost, Spot still loved his home and his fellow newsies.

But he also loved Race, and even if it would be easier to push him away, to use this as an excuse in his mind to push everyone away, Spot didn’t want to.

He was tired of pushing people away see. It never worked, anyway, and in the end, it didn’t make you any stronger. It just meant you were running from something you couldn’t escape.

So he sent Bluebird to tell Race to meet him on the docks that night, and as nerve-wracking as it was when he managed to get his courage up, he kissed Race first that night.

Spot was 16 when he finally stopped running away from his feelings. From letting himself care about people even if he still had trouble showing it.

Spot was 16 when he finally started running towards home.

...

Sorry this gets a little incoherent towards the end. I was tired when I wrote it.

[nadisabug]

Tea Girl // Prolouge // Pt1

Pairing: eventual Zuko x fem!reader

Warnings:  Annoying little brother lol, mean grumpy old man, just filler, a lot of setting up and explaining backstory, some cursing bc I am A Sailor, a lil surprise at the end ;)

Summary: After Y/n’s little brother wakes her up, she goes through her daily routine. 

A/N: Ahh so this idea stemmed from a short one shot I wrote and now it’s a whole new thing 0.0 I don’t have a posting schedule for this yet, but it will be slow since I will also be working on requests as well during this. Also this reader’s background is super specific and detailed so if you don’t like that avoid this. Anyways I hope you all like it because it’s my first series on this app so I am a little nervous I know it’s trash but I hope you like it enjoy <3

Series Masterlist // Part Two 

The sun filtered in through the blinds of my window, gently nudging me awake. I rolled over away from the offending light source, desperate to escape my daily life. I snuggled into my pillow. Just a few more minutes.

"Sissy, wake up. The sun is up!" I felt a presence behind me, small hands pushing into my side.

"No Kai it isn't, go to bed," I grumbled, turning away more.

"Yes it is, get up!" I felt as my younger brother flopped onto me, crushing my rib cage and restricting my breathing.

"Oof, ugh, get off of me fatty," I groaned and tried to roll away from him.

"I am not fat," Kai sat up off of me, but still left his hands on me, his palms digging into me. "I am in peak physical condition. But I won't be if you don't get me to training on time."

"Ugh, fine," I sighed and pushed him off of me. I sat up and pulled the covers off of me blinking blearily into the room. Slowly my eyes adjusted to the dim light and I surveyed our sparse room. There was the mattress I was currently sitting on and a chair in the corner with clothes piled on it. Other than that the room was pretty much empty, the only decorations the on the walls were the ones that came with the house. The normal Earth Kingdom wallpaper along with a few paintings of landscapes. Nothing of ours adorned the walls.

I got up from the bed and stretched. I heard behind me a small cheer as Kai happily hopped off the bed and rushed to the closet to pick out clothes for the day. I followed him slowly, letting him get there first. I didn't have to pick, seeing as I would be wearing my normal uniform for my job at the tea shop.

We got around in the small bathroom attached to my room, seeing as it was the only bathroom in the small apartment. Luckily, I had earned enough money recently to move to a two bedroom apartment, so I had my own room now. I used to stay in the living room area and let Kai have the room, but with my recent raise at the tea shop we were able to move. That was another reason that the walls were so bare, we hadn't finished unpacking yet. Boxes were piled up in the small living room area, most of them still full. Our kitchen area was sparse too, seeing as most of the kitchen ware was in boxes.

I got around quickly and Kai and I were ready before the sun was all the way up. We got everything we needed and left the apartment, braving the cold weather.

"Sissy, I'm cold," Kai pouted as we walked to his teacher's house.

"I know, but there's nothing I can do about that," I sighed and reached over, tugging on his jacket. He frowned and pulled away, not liking the attention. "Tell me about what you are supposed to learn today," I suggested.

"Oh!" Kai exclaimed happily. "I know, we were going to go over holding our stances while we fight..."

I nodded along, but slipped into my mind while he talked. I was so glad that he was enjoying his martial arts classes considering his past. He was a nobleman's child I found wandering the streets when I lived in the lower ring of Ba Sing Se. I picked him up immediately and found out that he was disowned because he was not showing bending abilities. Yet, despite not having that ability, he had a different one. He had a knack for art. He loved creating on any media, whether it was charcoal from our fireplace or color that I got him for a special present.

I hated having to make him go to martial arts classes, but it essence it was a babysitting service so that I could work longer days. School only went from midday to afternoon, and I didn't want to leave him alone in the house being that he was still only 9. It was a a special class for those who could not bend but still wanted to learn how to defend themselves. It was a really good class, and he really liked being around other kids like him who couldn't bend. I wanted to be there for him but-

"Okay we're here!" He announced, pulling me from my mind.

"Okay, so remember what we talked about-"

"No walking to school alone, wait for you to come pick me up," Kai nodded. "I know, I know."

"And then after school?"

"Stay in the art teacher's room until you come and get me." Kai folded his arms and stuck out his hip. "I don't get why you always have to tell me this everyday."

"So you remember," I answered, bopping him on the nose after I did. He scrunched up his nose and faked a grimace.

"Whatever, I'm going to training, see you." Kai turned around and disappeared into the tall gated yard of his instructors house. I watched as other kids filed in behind him. I waited an extra moment to make sure he didn't need anything and I set off to work.

It was a long walk but I didn't mind. I made it before long and found the shop closed, as always. I waited in front of it for my boss who would soon open up the shop. I had asked for a set of keys before so I could start the preparations, but he had denied saying he couldn't trust me. The man was crotchety and old, not the nicest, but he let me leave to walk Kai to school and paid me well so I couldn't really complain.

"Well, here it is, Ms. L/n early again," I heard a rough voice from around he corner and turned to find my boss. Speak of the devil. He was old, maybe late 70s, with wispy white hair along the side and back of his head with a giant bald spot in the middle. He was wearing traditional Earth Kingdom clothes with some alterations that constituted our uniform.

"Yes, Kai insisted on getting me up-"

"That was not an invitation to tell your life story," my boss snapped. I closed my mouth immediately, shutting up. Again, quite gruff but he let me get away with a lot so I stayed.

We filed into the tea shop and began getting it ready. I pulled the chairs down from the tables and started pulling out chinaware. When I went to the back to get the stoves ready, my boss was in the front already greeting customers.

Shit.

I forgot to heat the water as soon as I came in. Now I would have to wait for the water to boil, which would take a long time, thus getting my boss mad at me.

A small voice in the back of my head whispered, or I could do it myself...

I shook away any doubts that I had. I didn't want the boss pissed off at me so early in the morning. I looked around to make sure no one was watching, then took off the gloves I always wore. I placed my bare hands around the cold kettle and focused for a second. Then, after a few seconds, the water was boiling.

Boom. Done. Boiling water. And no one was none the wiser...

[snarkwrites]

ssw | shane walsh; feeling his hands hold your hips. | mature

Notes:

So.. This is the second part to the one shot I wrote a while back for Shane Walsh and my OC Evie Grimes, honesty. I suppose... If you were interested in their relationship, that one could’ve been considered the ‘start’ to it and this is the next morning. When they’re setting out to leave the quarry, btw.. For a sense of timing, just in case I write even more oneshots for them in the future.

You probably want to click the link below and read Honesty before you read this one so that things make a little bit better sense.. If you’re interested in backstory. That’s strictly your choice, tbh.

Enjoy?!?

Warnings:

{ NSFW CONTENT. ABSOLUTELY NO MINORS.} This oneshot was not written for the underage nor should you be reading it. If graphic sexual content isn’t your thing, you might also want to consider skipping over this, just saying. If you do continue to read beyond this warning, this is now solely your own personal problem. I warned you quite clearly. you chose to keep reading. Nobody forced you.

If you do choose to keep reading, first of all, yay! And secondly, here are all the things you need to be aware of going into it: unprotected sex tw, oral sex; male giving, fingering, biting / marking, dry humping, body fluids tw... That’s pretty much it.

Fandom/Character:

The Walking Dead / Shane Walsh x Grimes!OFC, Evie

Other works Shane/Evie can be found in:

[ honesty ] which i suppose.. can kind of be seen as a ‘beginning’ to their relationship. There’s several other posts on here they are used in too but.. Honesty is the precursor to this one-shot, so if you read that one and then this one, it’s kind of part one and part two.

Tagging:

@chasingeverybreakingwave​

@kyleoreillysknee

@mrsstevenbuchananstark

Other Stuff:

[ faq | nsfw masterlist - no minors | tag list doc ]

Hazy sunlight filtered in through the back glass of the Bronco nearly blinding me. I swore to myself and immediately tried to bring my arm up over my eyes because I wasn’t ready to wake up. I didn’t want to wake up yet. Falling asleep with Shane, our bodies entwined and the scent of him lingering heavy around me had been the most comforting sleep I’d gotten in years. Waking up would put an abrupt end to that. Waking up meant having to leave the sanctuary of the Bronco and putting up with people’s shit.

Not to mention the zombie invasion we happened to be living smack dab in the middle of now.

He stirred behind me. His hands moving over my side, gripping my hip. Pulling me completely against him as he buried his face in my neck, rough dry lips gazing against soft flesh. The contrast sent a shiver through my body and despite trying to stay still, I couldn’t help but wiggle my ass against him a little when I felt stubble prickling at my skin. He gave a low,husky growl and I whimpered quietly in response when he moved even closer to me, gripping my hip tighter as morning wood pressed right against my ass.

I went from barely awake and groggy to completely awake and dripping wet in a split second. Shane rolled me over so that I was facing him and I slipped one of my legs over his hip and my other leg between his legs. He gave a lazy grinning yawn and went in for a kiss full of nipping teeth and groping hands all over me. “Mornin, princess. You finally gon’ wake up for me?”

“I don’t wanna.” I whined, making him laugh as he gripped my jaw and pulled my mouth into the kiss even deeper, a husky murmur of “Honestly, I don’t either. But we gotta get movin.” as his hand settled on my bare thigh and he dug his fingers into my skin. Rocking me against him as he bit his lip and stared down at me intently.

“You like that?” he whispered against my lips as a whimper escaped only to be swallowed by another deep and bruising,needy kiss. I barely managed to gasp out “Yes.” as he got me flat on my back, the air mattress beneath us giving a soft hiss and making us share an annoyed look and soft laughter. He positioned himself on top of me, lips leaving mine to drag down the side of my neck, littering my skin with bites and bruises as his mouth made contact. His hand crept up the bottom of the shirt he’d given me to wear the night before and his fingers caught in the waistband of my panties, giving a tug. Torn cotton fabric came away with a quiet rip and ended up next to the air mattress as Shane pulled them away from my body. I pouted a little and lowered my hand, tugging at the waistband of his sweats. He rose up, pulling them down. Kicking them free at his ankles. Positioning himself on top of me again, his hips pressing against mine hard enough to bruise. I could feel the way his cock strained impatiently against thin plaid boxers, dying to be freed and that only made me drip more. His hand settled on the side of my face, caressing. “I’m so fuckin hungry, sweetheart.”

His words had me gasping quietly. Shivering a little as he worked the shirt off my body and gazed down at me with sheer lust in his eyes. 

“Shane.” I begged, raising my legs. Trying to pull him back down, closer. I missed the way the friction of skin against skin felt and the early morning air was a little cooler against my skin than I’d like.

“What’s up, princess?” he muttered the words lazily, dazed. His mouth moved lower. Settling on my breasts as he squeezed them together and had me rocking against him. Needy. Dripping. Aching.

My stomach coiled tight, the anticipation settling in.

“You know what you’re doing.” I pouted as I looked at him. Rubbed against him urgently. He pretended he didn’t know what I was talking about, and the entire time he did, he was bucking himself into me. Sending shivers ripping through my body. The wet warmth of his tongue as it trailed over my nipple just before the blunt of his teeth caught, tugging and teasing had me pulling at thick dark hair. Rocking myself up into him.

The little friction he allowed wasn’t enough. I was frayed. Aching. Throbbing. And then he was moving lower down my body. I gasped as I felt his tongue drag right down the center of my stomach, circling my navel. Goosebumps raised to the surface of my skin and my stomach coiled tighter still.

My hand settled in his hair, fingers twisting in it. Tugging at it by the time he had his head buried between my thighs and I felt his stubble brushing against my skin. He growled and bucked himself against the air mattress in anticipation as he looked up for a few seconds, locking eyes with me. My head fell back, eyes fluttering open and shut as I squirmed beneath him. He crawled back up my body, leaning down. Latching onto my lips with his. Two fingers working me open as he growled out, “Shit. Fuck. Darlin yer soaked.” and deepened the kiss until I was so lightheaded I saw stars dancing in front of my eyes.

We came apart and he lowered himself again. Tongue rolling back up the inside of my thigh. Fingers thrusting in and out deeper, feverishly. The wet slosh of my juices coating his digits had me moaning and squirming below. Rocking against his movements, wishing it was his cock and not his fingers.

His tongue dragged over my clit and I moaned, my back arching away from the air mattress. The bed of the Bronco giving a soft squeak as the movement of our bodies inside of it started to register in the frame.

My toes dug into the heavy blanket we’d slept under the night before because I didn’t know how much more I could take. He had me pinned, a muscular arm hooked beneath my thighs, holding me still. His tongue worked away at my clit mercilessly as his fingers continued to bury deeper. 

“Ah! Fuck. Oh god, Shane.” I moaned breathlessly. Trying to stay at least a little quiet. Finding it more difficult to do than I thought it might be. Shane’s smirk grew and his tongue slipped away from my clit. Dragging over my folds. His mouth latched on. Sucking.

I tried again to move my hips and I just couldn’t. The hand resting in his hair tugged. The hand on his shoulder gripped tighter and my back arched all over again. His tongue slipped into my throbbing sex, joining his fingers. My juices floated freely and he licked me clean. When he felt me starting to tense up and felt my legs starting to shake, he slowed down. Letting me back away from the edge. Only a little. I barely pulled myself back and he was at it all over again, gripping my hips, guiding my cunt against his mouth while simultaneously holding me against the air mattress so that I had absolutely no control over the pace and I couldn’t do anything but lie there and enjoy it. His tongue and fingers worked at my sensitive,dripping sex and he licked and sucked, groaning as if I were the best thing he’d ever tasted. Hungry.

He bucked against the air mattress a time or two, drawing another hiss from it and a low,tired creak from the Bronco. 

As his tongue and fingers swirled and scissored inside of me, I moaned his name and gasped, trying to catch my next breath. He smirked against my skin, the smirk only growing the louder I seemed to get. My fingers buried deeper in his hair, holding his head between my thighs. Making him growl against my dripping sex as he continued to lick me clean and fuck me with his fingers.

The closer my orgasm got, the more tense my body became and the more I went from trying to hold his head between my thighs to actually trying to push his mouth away just so I could catch my breath and back away from the edge. Shane drawled against my sensitive,throbbing clit, “C’mon, sweetheart. Let go. Let me have it all.”

As if he needed to tell me twice. My orgasm shattered me, leaving me clingy and shaky with my hips rocking erratically against his mouth. Desperate. My toes curling in the plaid comforter covering the air mattress. Shane growled quietly, his tongue lapping at my juices greedily. He rose up. Started to work his way back up my body. Settling over me and staring down as he took off his boxers and kicked them off when they reached his ankle.

A shit-eating grin on his face as he chuckled and leaned down. Pressing himself into me. I hissed as my cunt promptly started to throb just a little at the way his cock pressed right into me. “If you liked that, darlin…” he drawled quietly, burying his mouth against mine and breathing against it, “You’re gonna fuckin love this.”

He rose up and I pouted, instantly missing the way it felt to have his body pressed into mine. The feel of his hardness against my softness. Skin against skin. Bare. As he stared down at me in awe, he dragged his cock over my folds, teasing. Bucking a little so that only the tip slipped in. I whimpered, begging for more. Now.

Instead of teasing me and drawing things out, he bit his lip and slowly buried his cock inside. Watching in a lust filled daze as inch for inch sank deep into my womb. Groaning at the way it felt. I whimpered, tensing just a little as he filled me up and stretched me out. I rolled my hips to meet his slow thrusts when he finally started to move, a quiet cry of pleasure as I felt my body accommodating his cock, vising it tight.

 He lowered himself again, pressing into me. Grabbing my hips as he captured my mouth in a deep and hungry kiss. Starting to piston in and out of my cunt slowly. Letting me feel every inch and every vein. My nails dug into his shoulders lightly and he growled, picking up his pace. “Fuck. Darlin, fuck. Squeezin me so tight right now.” he muttered huskily against my neck as his teeth sank in. Tugging at flesh. Marking me up with marks that I knew weren’t going to be hidden, that is if I truly cared to hide them.

I wasn’t.

I could feel myself dripping, my juices forming a puddle on the sheet. The wetter I got, the harder and deeper his thrusts. His mouth buried against mine deep and he breathed out, “Tell me where you want it, darlin.”

My back arched and I dug into his shoulders, dragging my nails down his back as I clung to him. “Don’t stop, fuck. Shane, baby, ah.. Right there.” I moaned, getting louder. Not caring if anyone heard.

“Yer sure?” he muttered huskily. Caught up in the way it felt to be fucked the way he was fucking me, I begged again breathlessly, “Shane, c’mon. Now baby… Please.”

His hips stammered and I felt his cock bury even deeper. Striking against my throbbing g-spot over and over as his cock emptied inside, throbbing. Flooding me with his release. He collapsed against me, the kiss breaking so we could breathe and seconds later, he was coming back for more. Deep and passionate kisses as he rolled off of me and fell against the air mattress, grumbling when it started to sink in a lot more.

We shared a quiet laugh and he rolled onto his side, propping on his elbow. Dragging his fingers over my skin as he stared down at me. Outside of the Bronco, we could hear people stirring.

“Much as I hate to, darlin.. We gotta get up and start packin everything. Drive to the CDC is gon’ be a long one.” he muttered, though he made no move to let me go or untangle his body from mine.

“Especially if Dale’s piece of shit RV breaks every ten seconds like it did just moving it from one part of the quarry to the other.”

“If it didn’t come in handy for most everything else, I’d tell the guy to ditch the damn thing already.” Shane chuckled, planting a kiss against my lips as he rose to sit. Reaching back, pulling me up too when I tried to bury myself in the blanket and shove the pillow over my head. “C’mon, baby girl. Let’s see if we can’t go fix that hole in yer tent.”

“Damn it.” I pouted at him, making him laugh as he held out the t shirt he’d lent me...

[mego42]

author meme!

tagged by @whiskeyjack and @bethsuglywigs to ramble about the inspiration/evolution of the idea that eventually became a song inside the halls of the dark. 

This was actually really fun because I went back through my drive and found my initial wildly rough draft of what was going to be the beginning of it and am howling because it’s supposed to be Beth POV but the voice is like, me, so it reads a little like Annie is narrating Beth’s life and state of mind hahahahaha whoops!

putting the rest of this nonsense below the cut bc i got a bit verbose. shocking, I know.

BUT OKAY SO this will come as no surprise to anyone who has paid any attention to my perpetual WHY DOES THIS KEEP HAPPENING meltdowns but song was originally supposed to be a short one-shot!

Baaaaaasically, I was listening to is there somewhere by halsey a lot because I am nothing if not a basic bitch and also I love that song let me live. I was really into the idea of writing something where Beth and Rio end up having to spend a night in a hotel room (obvs there is only one bed), going into it with a functional relationship but walls definitely up and basically being forced to get to know each other on a level they previously hadn’t because they’d never had reason to spend this much time with just the two of them together. it was all going to lead to them both having individual oh shit, I think I like like you moments. Basically it was gonna be a bottle episode, set sometime in the partnership era of s2.

Obvs what came out was very different.

I started asking myself questions like well why are they in a hotel room? They were on a job far away. Okay, okay, why can’t they leave? Mmmmmmm what if one of them is injured? Oooooh interesting, how did one of them get injured? Job went wrong. Fascinating! How’d that happen?

(yes this is a mostly accurate representation of how conversations with myself often go but usually with more participants and a lot of commentary from the peanut gallery)

Over the course of asking those question, the initial set up with Mia and the Canada meeting started taking shape and that was really what killed my whole it’s gonna be short I swear MO because as soon as I came up with Mia I was like oh!!!! I like her!!!! I want to know more about her!!!! who is she??? what does she want??? what is her backstory????? I think I love her???????? and started trying to come up with ways to shoehorn more about her into a concept that was v much not built to sustain OCs. Then, to further complicate things, somewhere along the lines I decided that actually, if someone’s getting hurt, wouldn’t it be more loaded and interesting for that to happen in s3 times when Beth and Rio ~~~hate each other and have to reckon with do I save this person’s life or no? Also what does the fallout of all of this look like and more specifically when does Mia come back? 

And lo, the initial outline of song started to take shape!

(fun fact! it radically changed two more times during the writing of it! which….I dislike admitting out loud bc idk about you but when I know that, I can see the scar tissue all over it, hahahaha)

tagging:

@joeyjoeylee - law school AU

@pynkhues - navigate a broken path (or pirate au even though you already talked about it today or yesterday for you bc australia is in the future bc i cannot stress enough how much I love hearing about that fic)

@septiembur - a bit of a stretch

@foxmagpie  - delinquents and/or all four seasons *stares in peer pressure*

@sothischickshe - the to everything there is a season series

rules/q’s/meme backstory:

recently I have become really fascinated with fanfic authors and what exactly was rumbling around in their brain that inspired a fic?

Was it a line of dialogue you couldn’t get out of your head?

A scene you wrote WAY in advance and then crafted the whole story around?

An image in your mind?

Inspiration from another form of media?

Maybe someone suggested something to you and it just TOOK off from there?

What is the cornerstone of this fic -what is it all built around? The idea that started it all?

Tag an author & their fic. Let’s hear about what sparked your story. What exactly got your booty movin’ shakin’ motivated and writin’ ?

[the-satellite]

Hello friends and welcome to ☆Hateful Nostalgia☆. I was exposed to the mob talker mod WAY too young bc I was an unsupervised child on the internet watching mod showcases and SkyDoesMinecraft. Looking back these sucked, the stories were often bland and the designs were milk toast at best and tits out at worst. So for the sake of procrastinating on working on anything substantial I grabbed the main 6 I remembered and gussied em up. Redesigns, rewrites, better names, all that bullshit. If your interested in better photos, design notes, story details and rambling hit the basement, otherwise here's a line up you should click for better quality.

Also I wrote all this once before already but I deleted it like a dumb bitch. On the night Unus Annus was murdered in front of my eyes no less. Was a rough fuckin night.

The Creeper- Kupa. An explosive pyromaniac with a habit of making empty threats and yelling. She protects what she believes to be her territory with a suicidal passion, but if you manage to get her to cool down and soften up she's pretty sick to hand out with. Hard of hearing, has at least one bout of head trauma at all times, and deathly allergic to cats.

Because the creeper is kinda the og I wanted to reference AT2's design more than the others, but I'm p sure the only thing I actually kept was the red hair and brown gloves. Otherwise I was doing whatever. I really wanted to lean into the explody bit of creepers, so I gave her some bite and dressed her in clothes referenced from Irish railroad workers. This may also be why I keep imaging her with a very heavy Irish or Scottish accent, whichever would be most incomprehensible when angry. Every color but her skin was color picked from one of the references, with some minor alterations for makes my eyes happy reasons.

With Kupa I imagine a story line with her would largely be about her as a character and her development than like an actual adventure narrative like everyone else. She starts off ready to blow up both you and herself in a misguided attempt to defend what she sees as her's and opens up and learns not everyone is out to get her. Lots of time taken to understand her childhood and how she ended up how she is. Very simple, probably the default or tutorial run people would go through.

The Zombie- Bee. The ill husk of a missing explorer suffering from a less than conventional appetite. She wallows in her self imposed loneliness, believing herself to be an irredeemable monster doomed to hurt those around her. What she really needs is a buddy and some clue to who she used to be. Rough voiced, chronically fatigued, and prone to spontaneous combustion in sunlight.

 I definitely consider this one the weakest for design sadly. I imagined Zombies as humans who went into strange caves and caverns and didn't come out for years, only to pop up as completely different people. I just tossed AT2's design. The first thing I did was make her a bit of a genderbent Steve and tinted her green bc Zombies in game are just Steve but green. Tore up her clothes, colored picked the darkest colors I could from the clothes on the in game and boom, Bee. I do vaguely regret not making her eyes pure black but I also still wanted her to be human enough to fit with the other overworld mods.

 Ok so Bee actually has a basic story. When you meet her she's aggressive, but as a warning. She fears the possibility she may hurt somebody so heads for threats immediately. Going back and forth between her cave and village for a while you learn more about the situation with the missing folks who come back and Bee as a person. After a bit you pick her up off her depressed ass and start a nocturnal adventure of refinding your past, adapting to who your becoming, overcoming self destuction, and slow burn babey!!! 

The Skeleton- Ulna. One of the few surviving warriors of a now destroyed kingdom and dead culture. She spends most of her time now traveling alone, hiding in trees and shooting anything see sees as a threat- which is everything- in the face with homemade arrows. Very much suffering from loss of her home and a bad case of lost purpose. A woman of few words, very antisocial, and naturally nocturnal.

 I came in with the Skeleton wanting to make her seem mysterious, so my first thought was immediately a cloak and a mask, but I wanted her face to like be visible so I went with the face paint. I didn't actually know that I wanted to do under there so I went with wraps that are reminiscent of the original outfit but still not tits out bc it's so fucking easy! Gave her a quiver, color picked the cloak and face paint from the in game model and the wraps from AT2'S art. I did like. Subconsciously draw her eyes the way I do Asian characters but I didn't have anything specific in mind so like go nuts with what you think she is.

 Ulna's deal is very much her lack of purpose or home and the entire thing is about finding that again. She's found sitting up in a tree during a storm pointing a bow and arrow into your face. She eventually let's you stick around until the storm is over and theres some bonding into deep night until the rain stops. You ask if she wants to come with on your little travelling sword for hire business, she says sure, sleep schedule shenanigans, backstory angst, and road trip bonding happens and she eventually decides that helping people is her new purpose and you're her new home

The Spider- Park. A young adult experiencing the world for the first time through her tribe's rite of passage. She's really just trying to figure out how to live life outside of the cave she's been stuck in her entire life and aggressively trying to be an independent adult despite not knowing anything about being an independent adult. Its projection. Blind in the daylight, naive and excitable, and taken to refusing help at her own risk.

 Ok so. I don't know who looked at the spider and said "purple haired loli with puffy pants" so I once again yeeted the whole thing, only really keeping the kinda cutesy and childish bits. Spiders are a tribe of humans what live in caves unless they've broken off to live on the surface. Kids are kept inside until they hit a certain milestone, where they come up to explore at night. They're usually small and pale, but are pretty kickass when necessary. Again picked the colors off the in game model, played with the lightest gray for the skin, and bc I couldn't figure out anyway to use the stripes so they're on the patches lol.

 Park's meeting is probably the funniest and most meet cute one here, in that she accidentally drops on top of you from a little cliff drop off. Cue loads of apologies and an explanation about the spider deal and being blind in light. She asks for some help getting around and bam babey friendship and emotional attachment! What follows is kinda a buddy of coming of age story with the obligatory goes home and is miserable scene. Generally it's just about being a scared young adult and having someone to fall back on and why that's important. Also crushes and young people being bad at that.

 The Blaze- Amber. A demonic entity who would let the world burn and the sun die if it meant she'd get her soul back. She's known for being ruthless, taking souls through force instead of making deals like other Blazes. Keeps this forceful nature even once she's become friendly, makes you do dump shit. Territorial, eyes glow and dim with her life, and runs remarkably warm.

 Amber here is the first one I actually did! I was just. Really tired that she was in a bikini. I decided early on I wanted overworld mobs to be human and everyone else was decidedly not, so Blazes are demons who gave up their souls under false pretenses to other Blazes. Because of how little clothes AT2's design wore I had essentially free reign and my thought was immediately to lean on golden knight bc of how Blazes are found protecting fortresses. The gold isn't picked from anything bc I was looser with the colors, but everything else is, and the hair is supposed to represent the smoke. Also the sticks in her hair are blaze rods bc I don't like them just floating around her.

Amber is found in the Nether obviously, protecting a fortress and immediately trying beat your ass and either incinerate you or make you give up your soul. During you prove yourself a p damn good fighter and she makes a deal to show you how Blazes exist and pursade you to give your soul up willingly. Bonding happens and she explains where the souls go and what happened to her. Insert line about how she dug in the sand for her soul until her fingers bleed bc I'm an Arcana freak lol. In general I'd just like her to learn to adapt to who she is now and learning to live life well instead of letting her anger burn her up from the inside out.

 The Enderman- Violet. A confused but sweet young bit of void created by and connected to the Ender Dragon. Her relationship with reality is tenuous at best and abusive at worst, making stable existence rather difficult. She doesn't know a name, age, gender, anything about herself aside from that she likes sweaters. Communicates primarily through psychic connections, docile and sweet, and melts like a witch in water.

 Violet was incredibly easy, so this may be way short. Endermen are decidedly human shaped void from the End with varying sentience. They're direct extensions of the Ender Dragon, and nobody knows how they're made or where they come from, not even they do. Adventurers who escaped The End say they seem scared of it though. Violet in particular is pretty damn new and extraordinary nonconforming, and I tried to show that with her sweater and ponytail. Once again, literally all colors picked. Definitely the simplest but one of my favs.

Violet is the sweetest meet up I think. As your traveling between villages you notice a strange enderman watching you and plant a little flower in front of her. She picks it and you hear a happy little trill come from you and a pretty voice say thank you in your head. Now you have a tall dark teleporting travel buddy! After a little bit of back and forth she tells you in some broken English that the Ender Dragon made her but she doesnt know how, and that it's bad and needs to be killed for the sake of Endermen and that's the new goal. Spoiler they're the corrupted souls of those that died fighting it, with it gone Endermen are free to exist as their own being and do whatever, hurray!

[foriland]

For the fic title thing, 1 and 9 for chains? Love that fic btw :)

Oh my goodness... Chains. That was one wild and insane XDDDDD I feel like I had far too much fun writing it. It probably is among my top 5 favourite of my fics.

1. What inspired you to write the fic this way?

Uhhhhhh........ On one angle, I will say it goes back to the core idea I had. So, earlier this year, I was studying during my three months writing break. Writing Brains (for some absurd reason or other) had this 'brilliant' idea, which was the physical position that Jason was stuck in, as in the specific way he was bound in the earlier parts of the fic. And I was immediately interested because that would be uncomfortable and could hurt a lot.

If were talking about the fact that it was an insane stabby-stabby thing, I will say that it is due to my study-tired, stressed-thus-violent state of mind. I pretty much wrote Chains without much planning (I feel like I only plan any scene that I was then writing and even then it was more of a 'what fancy thing will I do to Jason next' kind of planning). And so that adds to it. Honestly, then, any sense of plot and backstory was merely an attempt to make the situation possible. I fleshed it out a bit as I edited (and add more scenes :P) to turn it into a more coherent story afterwards. And really, my reading choices and writing ideas can get pretty cruel when my mind either is tired or bored or stressed (even worse when it is all of those), makes Writing Brains go places. I was also partly experimenting with a few ways to torture that I had never played with before.

9. Were there any alternate versions of this fic?

Yes!!! :D Kinda. There is this one which was the original ending that I posted a bit ago. I wrote that during the very first draft. I like the ending, especially with the Dick-Jason interaction and uh... well, pain. But I wasn't wholly satisfied with this, I found it a bit skippy-ly quick paced and 'aloof', so to speak. And maybe I disagreed with the fact that it is fluff-ish but we'll ignore that. And it became a bit unfitting when I started to edit the fic more because I kept on extending that whole bit in the first chapter when he last woke up (he was not supposed to get drowned again but welp! guess that happened). The extension meant more pain and injuries, thus a worse condition, which I felt would be a bit 'unrealistic' for the original ending (Not that any of my fic, Chains included, is wholly realistic. I mean.........).

So. After I finished my first collection of exams some months back and got back to FINALLY properly editing (which I had missed doing), I tried to shovel up a different ending. And as I was mentioning my predicament on a Discord server, @geminibabyhere threw some good ideas my way, which, while not fully applicable to the fic as she didn't really know what I was writing (I think I just mentioned that Jason was in a really really bad condition and that I want Dick to be in the scene and feeling guilty), did summoned some good thoughts and potential ideas in my head. (Love you lots, Gem! You are amazing!)

So! I sadly didn't keep them, but some of the alternate bits were:

There was supposed to be a cool gun-crowbar-escrima sticks moment between Dick and some of the villains. Like the scene started as the chapter 2 did, and then someone was going to shoot Bruce (who was doing some Batman-threatening-or-something) and Dick did this epic thing of turning and fighting while also battling this other guy with a crowbar. It was a very rough draft and vague idea and didn't work out so I scrapped it.

I killed Jason. It was supposed to be sad. But it was a little thing that I did for fun and to get Writing Brains to work. And it was a lot dramatic.

I was going to have Damian or Bruce in as well, since they were among the indirect catalyst that had caused Jason to end up where he was (No. It wasn't their fault. Stupid things like that happens). But a) it was already nearing Ramadhan by the time I posted the first chapter so I didn't want it to be too long so that I could get the second chapter out before the month started (which I didn't get to in the end anyway), especially since I was also working on my Dark Week works then; b) I was more interested in playing with Jason's head and pain, and I couldn't squeeze Dami or Bruce with what I had.

They were rough, vague things so I cancelled them and went with what I did instead. Which........ was..... I did not expect that it would be that kind of a fancy mess of emotions. I went Dick and Tim angst for a long moment. But I think the ending was neat in the end. (But I love that original ending I had, which was why I kept it.)

-

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Thank you so much, my dear! It went a bit longer that I thought, but I hope I answered your questions ^^ Thank you for the ask and for reading my stuff XD Have a lovely day!! <3 <3