#it’s time for female heroes to overtake for a bit

[shirefantasies]

The Hobbits With a F!Human Crush

Definitely not the last of this concept you’ll see from me 😉 Tagging @possibly-in-wonderland along with my usual list @kilibaggins @fuckyoumakeart @lokilover476 | let me know if you wanna join!

Frodo

✧ You serve as a living, breathing symbol of his curiosity, his desire for knowledge and exploration, something new that he wants so badly it all but takes the breath from him.

✧ The way you fall in love with Bag End, unbothered, no, charmed, by the quaint yet elegant hobbit hole as your eyes light up has Frodo’s heart doing somersaults. “You like it?” “Like it? Why, Frodo, you are as lucky as anyone! I wish I lived here!” He’s a bit too shy to say it, but a little voice peeking from the corners of Frodo’s mind says that that could be arranged.

✧ You’ve been places he could only dream of, and he wants to hear every story, enraptured with a hand upon his chin and blue eyes wide at your every word.

✧ Whenever you bend down to whisper in his ear, his entire mind shuts down and a smile creeps across his lips like you’ve never seen before.

✧ Flushes brightly when you pull him protectively against your chest, but enjoys the dangerous race of his heart at your hand upon him more than he would have thought possible.

✧ And when you first kiss him, giving him that gentle but still quite strong tug up into your lips at his confession and tangling your fingers in his dark hair, it's like his chest is about to explode.

Sam

✧ A bit down on yourself thinking someone like you wouldn’t like someone like him, at least not like that.

✧ Regardless, it changes not his kindness and devotion towards you. Despite your size difference, Sam is the one to step forward between you and danger, throwing an arm across from you and not registering or sharing in your amusement until the threat is neutralized.

✧ His heart practically slammed out of his chest when he told you about all the rabbits in the Shire, including one couple he’d seen where the male was with a much larger female. “That’s so cute,” you’d remarked, a hand idly brushing his arm as it lowered, “I love that.” Sam could hardly speak for the next minute or so.

✧ You asked him once if people remind him of flowers or if that's just you, and without even thinking Sam said sunflowers. Not only because of their height, he replies with a blush after you tease him, but the way they bring joy to all who see them and everybody wants them around.

✧ Trips over his words when you focus your gaze down upon him, suddenly feeling warm beneath the intent stare.

✧ And when you take his hand, looking him right in the eyes again as you tell him just how much he means to you, why he snaps completely, pulling up to his full height to connect your lips.

Merry

✧ He takes you, quite frankly, as a challenge- not one given in scorn, but as the rush of the latest charge or act of mischief, the exhilaration of risking oneself for moments of the greatest good.

✧ Bold as he is, Merry isn't afraid to let you know how beautiful he thinks you are, calling you fair and strong and every compliment in the book to cheer you up and bolster your courage.

✧ Attempts to prove himself to you thrill him, too, the way you take him on as an equal to spar and spend your time teaching him. The way you let him overtake you, standing over you with triumph and giving a smirk that runs a shiver down his spine.

✧ He goes to you first for things; in his eyes you can do anything and he trusts you to take his concerns seriously. It could be something small like a question or repair or a a heavier matter like a deep discussion, but whatever it is it will be with you.

✧ Makes up the occasional tall tale about his prowess back home, making himself out to be quite the hero or his home a far more fantastical place. Just to see what you believe. Even though you giggle at his mock-heroic deeds and teasingly debunk his tales, you make it clear in your treatment of him that you do believe he can do anything.

✧ Shock blooms across your face and thrums in your heart at the wince cutting Merry’s face when he accidentally confesses his feelings to you, but it is quickly overtaken by a smile as you cup his face in your hands to return his affection and then some.

Pippin

✧ Nothing can tear him from your side, not a word of concern from others, not a single hardship- when his mind is made up, it is made and that is that.

✧ Enjoys climbing up on things or into trees to get to your eye level, leaning closer while he has the opportunity to all but brush noses.

✧ Makes jokes about you having a longer reach or about "back when you were my size", for he is well aware and comfortable with the height difference. Insurmountable as it could be to you, there is no point in denying it and having some fun with it. After all, as much as he is always trying to assist you, he can use your added height as an excuse to ask for help, too!

✧ Unabashedly checks you out, his eyes sliding to you in nearly any moment of idleness; sometimes they are glances of awe, others pure pleasure at your form.

✧ Tells you again and again all the places he’s going to take you: the Green Dragon, a run through Farmer Maggot’s fields, Sam’s garden if he lets you, all at such insistence that the Shire is the greatest place upon the earth that you cannot help believing him and longing for it almost as much as he.

✧ Knowing that he is lost, he is happy simply to love you no matter what, but few times in your life will you see Pippin’s face as alight as the moment between you returning his feelings and the deep first kiss you share.

Bilbo

✧ Now you, my dear, are an adventure. Nothing he ever planned for, imagined, expected, and yet here you are on his proverbial doorstep. With a gulp and a shy smile he takes you in, eyes sliding upward along your form.

✧ Never has he felt this way before and certainly never with a daughter of men, so you'll find his gaze upon you often, studying you almost.

✧ Definitely tries to wow you with his studies of the different cultures of men- with varying success depending on from which region you hail. You cannot help but be charmed at all of Bilbo’s attempts to make you feel at home even in the middle of nowhere.

✧ You will feel like you’ve seen Bag End and met all of Bilbo’s ridiculous relatives with all the stories he shares both silly and beautiful. “I can see why you wish to return,” you tell him, to which he just beams up at you, a new shine in his eyes.

✧ Gets flustered at the ways in which you move to his level, leaning slinkily against a large rock or down further still upon a log to look up at him and meet his gaze with a smile.

✧ All he asks is if you have any interest in settling down, but you cannot help risking things at the sight of Bilbo’s nerves, tentatively answering that you’d love to settle in the Shire and feeling your heart soar at his grin of relief. Unusual, certainly, but then again that is perfect for Bilbo Baggins, is it not?

[balkanradfem]

Wanted to drop in and say first of all that your blog is amazing! You have worded so articulately, so perfectly so many thoughts and feelings I've had recently. Well, rather I've had for a long time on some level but never really confronted with honesty until recently. It has taken a bit of time to ease myself into this world, as a new feminist.

I'm currently trying to list double standards between men and women, the ones that men have created to against women, to explain to someone who clearly doesn't "get it", but I'm getting sort of overwhelmed because they are basically ubiquitous, and more like double binds where you are punished either way.

I have beauty standards down. I've had pushback every time on this but I think I'm good there. There's also the way men have slurs for women who have sex (whore, slut) and for women who don't (prude, frigid). Men are not defined by their sexual history nor are shamed for it the way women have been forever.

They treat male cheaters better than female ones, even going as far as to say men should be allowed to cheat.

They say "not all men", but treat women like a monolith. They accuse us of playing victim when we bring up serious systematic male violence against women, in every country, but feel discriminated against if we don't take being expected to pay for dates and being drafted in some countries (all a result of patriarchy) as an equivalent oppression point.

They hold women to higher ethical standards. They hold women to higher standards of parenthood. They cry sexism if anyone doesn't take their crying seriously but relentlessly mock (and make memes out of) women showing emotions online, call them manipulative, and even use them as evidence that women should be restricted from working.

They're allowed to blame women for male violence and general bad behaviour from the men in their lives. They don't get blamed for choosing the wrong partner or breaking up the family if they decide to leave their partners after being treated badly. They're allowed to talk about single mothers like used cars and treat single fathers as heroes. They get free domestic and reproductive labour from women but want everything they do to be compensated.

They consider women focusing on their career instead of children to be selfish but not men.

They expect their loneliness to be taken seriously but consider lonely women defective.

Is there anything you could add, or correct? Do you have your own list of double standards you can share?

You got it down pretty good, I can't think anything off the top of my head, but I think the biggest difference is in the power of one's word, male words are believed to be shaping reality, while words that come from women are believed to be shaping nothing but lies and deceit, especially if they're speaking from the female perspective, and not recounting whatever men want them to.

I don't know if it can be called a 'double standard', but the fact that we weren't a part of the work force from the beginning, and were only allowed to participate in the latest versions of it, gives them a huge benefit, and they're using it to make sure women have the most ungrateful and exhausting work, while they take credit for it themselves, on top of underpaying the same women and making sure they don't progress as fast, or at all in the work field. If women do progress or start overtaking a specific field of work, it will immediately get demoted, underfunded, and disregarded as frivolous and not-serious-enough.

I feel like double standards are very tame words to explain the situation, even though it's a very good way to point out that we're not equal and how it can be visible in common beliefs and common treatment of women. We're basically living in a world that men built and shaped for nobody and nothing but themselves, with women meant only as servants, entertainment and resource for them to use. Nothing is created for women alone, not medicine, not healthcare, not resources, not buildings, not vehicles, not jobs, not families. All of these center men, benefit men, put men in the position of control, while women are seen as 'stepping out of their place' if they attempt to fight and win their own space and resources inside of it.

Women are being shamed and humiliated both before and after they're used and exploited by males, and even if they do absolutely everything they're supposed to, they're still likely to end up abused, wounded by injustice, forced into childbirth and marriage, ending with no shelter, resources, land or economic power of their own. Men, on the other hand, are more likely to inherit resources, gain economic power, hoard resources, land and will expect to trap a woman with what they got. We're essentially always put in position where we either manage to ward off from men or end up being exploited if we make one mistake, have one emotional and vulnerable moment where they get the best of us. Men can hardly say they face the same hardship - the most a woman can get from a man is some of his money, and it's still not going to give her opportunities to gain nowhere near as much as men can in today's society.

It's almost insane we still have to explain there's 'double standards', but I absolutely understand how it's practical to have a few on hand to be able to easily point out when someone is acting obtuse.

Whenever I see a woman online bullied for saying something not 100% considerate to all minorities on the planet, I imagine what would the reaction be if a man said that, and every single time, I can see dozens of men doing hundred times worse shit and getting away with it because they're just not believed to even be capable of that much consideration, and they're forgiven for it by default. If a man had acted online with the same behaviour as any problematic woman, he would be praised to heavens for how progressive and insightful he is. He would be considered a feminist, an icon, the best man in the world for doing even 5% of emotional labour that women do on daily basis. It pisses me off seeing people rage at women for shit they wouldn't make them blink if a man said.

I guess there's also double standards of 'how many men do we make die in childbirth, how many men do we impregnate and abandon, how many men do we use as sexual entertainment and resource, how many underage men do we marry off to older and predatory women who will rape them, how much torture and abuse of men do we watch on the daily basis to get off, how many men do we force to change their appearance to childlike so we'd have a better time predating over them', it becomes bit more obvious when you put it that plainly that we're in a position that cannot even be compared to mens.

If someone else can think of more examples, please add to the post.

[akumaverse]

OVA THE OVERTAKER

First Appearance: Story of Our Time #4

Dimension: Alternative AkumaVerse

Allegiance: Hero

When the Sprite Eater attacked the Prime AkumaVerse, many minor ones tried to copy or improve on the original. One such universe was the Alternate Universe of the AkumaVerse, where Kari won the final lessons over Akuma. When that Sprite Eater lost, it spawned their own version of the Undertaker: the Overtaker. Like her “cousin”, she has the ability to copy the very essence of her target via draining them willingly or after battle. 

Her original purpose was to complete her father’s task and avenge his death, but the Overtaker like her cousin had more of a will on her own. In this Sprite Eater’s attempt to improve, he put a little bit of himself in her to ensure she accomplished that task. But when fighting Kari, the female warrior could sense her true intentions were different from her design. Finally breaking through and rejecting what her father wanted, the Overtaker now became Ova and uses her various abilities to help others as a medical professional.

Ova has many similar traits to the Prime Undertaker, but she focuses more on defensive and supportive abilities over the offensive. Though a little bit of that desire is still within her, as she captured a version of the Anime Warrior to feed off him and learn new abilities through his absorption of Anime Knowledge.

Forms:

The Overtaker - While she does not need the mask to perform her abilities, for the rare times she does find herself in combat putting on the mask helps in her focus.

Sprite Credit

First Version and Idea from Sam Valentine.

Current Version is by GameOverBR.

Fun Facts:

Since I wanted the Sprite Eaters to be a cosmic horror, I needed an explanation on how other dimensions can have similar results like this one. So the concepts of the species being scavengers came to be.

[suffering-and-happy-about-it]

Every once in a while, I gather all my courage and open my Facebook to see what boils my guts this time and the winner of today’s evening is “MCU died with Iron Man” and listen *cracks her knuckles* strap in cause we’re in for a ride. Before we get into it - yes, this is my opinion and you’re more than welcome to disagree.

MCU has its problems, it undeniably has - I wouldn’t want to get into the bigger ones since I’m still educating myself (biggest issue marvel did and I disagree with is whitewashing characters for the MCU’s needs) but to be honest, even if there’s much more content to keep up with (movies x series at the same time), I was never happier to watch the stories unfold.

My personal favorite is Ms. Marvel aka Kamala Khan - I’ve came across her in the Avengers game and immediately, I ran off to buy some comics to read about her because she’s so fricking cool. When I saw first trailer for Love and Thunder and realized that Taika is about to adapt the Mighty Thor arc on screen, I almost lost my shit because Jane’s story is one of the most meaningful ones I’ve ever read. I’ve never heard about Moon Knight (I just knew that somehow Dracula owns him money) but going through the adaptation of Steve, Marc and Jake’s story left me breathless and eager for more, so I learned about the ever changing adaptions of Moon Knight. MoM making Wanda the villain and introducing America - chef’s kiss. Sam Wilson officially becoming Captain America - YESSS!!! Shang-Chi made me laugh so hard I cried because home girl Awkwafina was slaying so fucking hard. Now, I’m just waiting for Miles Morales officially appearing there (yes I know about the Spider-Verse) and I’ll be more than happy to die. And Loki? Loki was a fun trip down the memory lane sprinkled with new lore which I super enjoyed! And who could complain about No Way Home?

So no, no, no - the MCU didn’t die with Iron Man. And it won’t. There’s plenty more to come and to explore various characters from various settings. The problem for the people is that there’s not just five dudes and Nat in tight spandex to follow around but a lot of ministories of distinguishible characters to follow. And I love each second of it.

[radiowallet]

December 10th - Wrapping Presents

Summary: You and Marcus wrap some of Missy’s Christmas presents. 

WC: 1K

Pairing: Marcus Moreno x Wife (female reader)

Warnings: Mature, Kissing, Fluff, angst, some light smut, slight breeding kink, baby talk, Christmas talk

Thank you to @toomanystoriessolittletime​ for putting together this amazing holiday prompt list.

“Do you think we overdid it again?”

You laugh, a hearty snort that you are physically incapable of holding in, cheeks almost in pain from how hard it pops out of you. You glance around at the mountain of boxes waiting to be wrapped; toys and clothes and books piled high,all destined for your three year old come Christmas morning. You look back at Marcus with one eyebrow arched, wondering if he’s actually being serious or if this is him practicing his “dad jokes” again. He grins at you, all teeth and dimple, not an ounce of apology to be found in his face.

“We?“ You nudge him with the ball of your foot, hoping to drive your point home. Finally he sighs in acceptance, fiddling with the plastic tape dispenser in his hands.

“I overdid it again.”

“That’s a little bit more accurate, I’d say.” You reach for the box closest to you, a princess baby doll that showed up on your doorstep two weeks ago, and lay it on the red and green wrapping paper, twisting it just so, until the edges are lined up neatly.

“I can’t help it. I’m out on a mission, we’re stuck waiting around, so I do some internet shopping to pass the time. I mean…how can I not?”

You glance back up at your husband, his face twisted into that small frown, his brow furrowed as he pulls out a piece of tape, letting it tangle in his thumb uselessly. He doesn’t say anything else, just shrugs his shoulders up and down, before balling up the tape and tossing it to the side. It doesn’t take a super-genius to know what drives his over indulgent shopping, the ugly feeling that lives in the pit of his stomach when he’s away for a few days longer than promised, when he misses a bedtime, or gets a video of a milestone instead of witnessing it with his own eyes. These presents overtaking the entirety of your bedroom floor are a manifestation of Marcus’s guilt and you wish, not for the first time, that you could wipe away the fears and anxieties he carries on his shoulders, to alter his desires to save the world, to be the hero, to be the perfect husband and father and son. It’s too much to live up to, these lofty expectations he has set for himself, but how to make him understand he’s more than enough? That’s he’s everything you and Missy need, more than that, he is their whole world, and a missed giggle or a forgotten story time will hardly matter in the grand scheme of things.

Pushing the wrapping to the side, you crawl over to him on your hands and knees, seating yourself fully in his lap, close enough to smell the remnants from dinner, nudging his nose with your own until his eyes finally rise to meet you head on. Only then do you lean in for a kiss, letting the press of your lips linger, counting heart beats as you hold him close, the words in your heart tangled on your tongue. When you pull away, you don’t go far, pressing your forehead tight to his, keeping hold of his coffee sweet eyes.

“You are a great dad.”

“Mi alma-“

“No, don’t Mi alma me. I know that tone, Moreno. You listen to me. You are the best dad and we made a great kid. It’s not about quantity with Missy, it’s about quality. When you’re here, you’re here. That’s the only thing that matters, comprende?”

“Sí,” he breathes out, leaning forward, resting his forehead on your shoulder. You sit like that for a while, breathing each other in, the smell of his cologne- orange and cinnamon- overwhelming your senses, the warmth of his arms around you lulling you to a soft state of comfort. After a few minutes, he pulls away, his eyes a little brighter, at least some of the guilt wiped away. He takes another look around and peeks back at you, an embarrassed chuckle falling from his lips.

“Should I try to return some of these?”

You match the trail of his gaze, taking in the pile of presents, and for a brief second consider the offer, not looking forward in the slightest to wrapping all of them. Maybe you could have Marcus order some gift bags...

“No, no it’ll be okay. She’s only three. We’ll just have to make it a point to dial it back from here on out. I don’t want her to be spoiled.”  

He nods, pulling you in for another kiss, and then a second and a third and before you can stop him, he’s lying you down, the crinkle of wrapping paper beneath you pulling peals of laughter from you both, but doing little to slow him down as he slips his tongue between your lips, laughter shifting into quiet moans. His lips find your ear as his hands find your hips, grinding down into you, and fuck, how are you already so wet?

“You know what could help with the spoiled thing?”

“W-what’s that?” You breathe out, burying your fingers into the soft brown curls at the back of his head, legs wrapping around his waist, holding him as close as you can.  

Marcus pulls away, only an inch, but you whine like it’s miles. The middle of his eyes are bleeding black, desire rippling through every touch, every breath, every second and then he’s grinning, hopeful, the edges of it teasing to something almost feral.  

“How about we make one more?”

You want to laugh, but it dies in your throat, choking in on itself at the look in his eyes, and of course, only Marcus Moreno could make the talk of spoiled three year olds and making babies sound so fucking sexy. Before you can even remind him about things like birth control and timing his lips are on you again, fingers sliding up beneath your sweater, blazing a fiery hot trail across your bare skin. The presents, the wrapping paper, all of it can wait, you think as his lips meet yours again, inhaling any other excuses that could possibly exist as he kisses you slow and deep.

“One more,” you murmur into his kiss, holding onto him tight, letting him tether you to this moment. He trades the words right back to you, a secret, an oath, a promise you make to each other, a wish breathed into each other’s skin, surrounded by too many toys and crumpled up wrapping paper. One more.

Main Masterlist

31 Days for Marcus Moreno Masterlist

Tag List:@nolanell​ @honestly-shite​ @leslie-lyman​  @gingersnappe-9​ @mandocrasis​ @castleamc​ @dobbyjen​​ @sergeantbannerbarnes​​ @lowlights​ @cowboy-turtle​​ @mindidjarin​​ @alm0501​ @tintinn16​ @hnt-escape​ @prostitute-robot-from-the-future​ @magpie-to-the-morning​  @jazzelsaur​ @mylovelycomandante​

[gale-gentlepenguin]

Gale Reviews: ML Season 4 Episode 11: Guiltrip

Spoilers below (because its out of order and it just got subbed)

-So class is going on and Rose got a headache. (Alya and Nino passing NOTES. Alynino get your JUICE)

-Marinette daydreaming about Adrien. So nothing out of the ordinary

-So Rose calls her headache Miss Dora. Okay this whole exchange with Rose is so cute.

- Juleka eating lunch, (you know we never really see the students eat lunch often.) And then Juleka got the sorrow clouds! OH NO! WHAT IS HAPPENING!

-Marinette trying to cheer up Juleka, back fires spectacularly. Oh Kwami.

-Jeez what happened to ROSE?

-Shadowmoth on cue because he really gonna capitalize on that suffering.

-Shadowmoth AKUMA DONT HELP, ONLY THERAPY DOES.

-Marinette got the bubbles for adrien still. She is still into him.

-Yo She CORRECTED her stammer! Marinette is getting better.

-Well this adrinette is delicious

-Marinette is keeping focus, and correcting her stammers. This is growth. Im glad for her.

-Juleka "I want to be alone" (Marinette texts the class)

-OH S*** Rose is at the Hospital! What the s*** Shadowmoth! Way to bury the lead? Side note: Everyone is just There suddenly

-Okay so basically Rose got sick when she was younger and that sickness can come back at any time, Rose made Juleka promise not to tell anyone about it, which she failed. And the class promises not to treat her any differently.

-And that is how you stop an akuma. Man The class is so supportive and caring for one another. The writers really just said (F*** class salt in particular) must be a sucky season to be a class salter

-And Julrose cuteness. And now everyone is being extra nice to rose which basically NEGATES what they said earlier. But you really can't fault them.

-Juleka is like 'Everyone, calm the f*** down' and its starting to get a little... obvious.

-THEY ALL GOT HER APPLES. I wonder if they are being to subtle (Not)

-Rose figured out something is up.

-Okay so I had to pause this because I LOVE JULEKA AND ROSE'S CONVERSATION! It starts like it is going to go the way of Rose feeling hurt and betrayed, but she pivots and realizes she had Juleka always worrying and that wasn't fair to her. So Rose doesn't get mad at Juleka but decides to clear the air and fix things.

-Rose got MASSIVE strength for a sick girl.

- Again, The class is a supportive group of friends. The writers really said f*** the class salt AGAIN.

-And now they are studying viruses in class. (I can picture how this is going to go)

-And this went how I expected it to go. I cracked up.

- And Now Juleka runs off because guilt

-Chloé and Sabrina didn't move and were like "WTH"

-Thats a weird way to say Girlfriend, but hey, Shadowmoth Aint the smartest bug

-Oh an amok!

-So the sentimonster is called Guiltrip

-And Reflekta again

-Wow Reflekta just Sent herself first! OH DAMN! Shadowmoth was like 'Wait no but my jewelry!?"

-The entire class save Sabrina, Chloé and Lila just up and ditched to go help Juleka. This class sugar is making me diabetic and I LOVE IT

-Rose straight up went in after Juleka (Respect)

-Ah yes the tried and true ladybug strategy. JUMP INTO ITS MOUTH. (but in this case portal)

-Shadowmoth is just like 'YESS ALL ACCORDING TO KEIKAKU." but he really is like, thank goodness that worked.

-Ivan sweetie no. It isn't your fault.

-so the bubbles turn them into Reflekta when they overtake you? But also make you feel guilty.

-NINO! OMG! Nino just said he feels guilty that he couldn't help Adrien face his dad. Adrino stans we got some juice! Adrien knows man. That hurt.

-Did... Did Chat noir just try to.... That is DARK

-Wow... this sentimonster making Ladybug and chat noir give up

-OMG ROSE WEAPONIZED POSITIVITY! SHE IS GOING SUPER ROSE! HOW?! WHY?! IDK BUT ROSE GOT THAT MLP FRIENDSHIP IS MAGIC POWER.

-Yum, that is some tasty ladynoir. Well fed this season.

-I do really like how Ladybug transforms after using Lucky charm. It looks better then her standard suit. Wish we knew HOW she got that upgrade. But hey, out of order episodes, what will ya do.

-I already love Daizzi and Rose together. The pig Kwami is precious.

-Okay, I like the costume. Pigella shirt adds some flair. Gives more variety to the female costumes, which we needed. Plus the clap is cute

-Reflekta got that MEGA GUILT

-So her power is gift. but basically shows them their hearts desire.

-Omg, I just realized, Pigella is the ultimate enemy of Shadowmoth. She makes things happy while he thrives on suffering.

-Okay, I like Rose's costume, but ... those eyes creep me OUT.

-The cute Julrose is cute

-OH SO THATS HOW THE PICKAXE WAS USED? How simple.

-Reflekta charm! Juleka won't be victimized by Hawkmoth. So it is a permanent ward then?

-Rose is SLICK! 100 stealth on that miraculous hand off.

-Oh now they teasing her. Thats what Rose wanted. Cute

-Chloé is mad that no one laughs when she says stuff like that.

-ADRIEN! YOU SAVAGE. Sassdrien is real!

___________________________________________________________

Okay so I really enjoyed this episode.

I will say I wanted some more romantic Julrose, but you know, I gotta say. This was an excellent episode for both Juleka and Rose. The class also got to be supportive but in a believable way. Really got to show them more as characters.

The ladynoir and Adrienette was on point. And I think this might be one of the better hero intros.

overall 8/10

I felt that the conflict was handled a bit too quick and kind of anti-climactic. I would have loved to see more build up to Ladybug and Chat noir almost succumbing to despair. But it was good stuff

It is a solid episode and while I personally enjoyed other episodes more, this one was pretty good.

[keilemlucent]

Could I get a request for a female reader with Hawks! I was thinking that the reader and Hawks have a playful interactions where they tease each other a lot. Then one day the reader finds spicy m&ms and tries to prank hawks, but it backfires on her? Thank you! 💕

oh wow this one got SPICY

warning: r18+!!! angry keigo

Keigo was too fucking stealthy to have prank wars with, but you’d be damned to not try. Each time you tried to set him up to get absolutely dunked on, he quickly thwarted it with a smile on his face. ‘Innocently’ taunting you about the act.

Your latest failure had been frosting cookies with toothpaste, which only made Keigo howl with laughter.

“Seriously, babe,” He fell back over the arm of the couch, wheezing. “You really thought I’d fall for that? They reek of fluoride and mint, (Y/N).”

You could only frown, stewing in your countless losses.

So, you kicked it up a notch.

Your newest prank was much more... devious. A bit more harmful, but damn, if it actually worked? The look on Keigo’s face would be priceless. Part of you actually wanted to set up a hidden camera in order to record his response, but you opted against it.

You really wanted to savor the moment.

The moment Keigo left for work, you flitted into the bathroom, a small bag from the beauty store slung over your arm.

You set to work, switching and mixing bottles. You knew this was at least... very, sorta shitty, but also, Keigo would have the money to correct whatever you created. Not to mention the pranks that he tended to pull on you also had some disastrous outcomes.

(See: that one time Keigo tricked you into eating straight mayonnaise mixed with his own nut or that other time he thought it would be hilarious to replace all the food in the apartment with blue gatorade(? you really didn’t get this one, but it was annoying as hell so you supposed it was a success.))

But, your prank, your magnum opus, was going to outdo anything either of you had done before.

You sat back and relaxed most of the day, having the day off. You cleaned a bit, took a nap, normal things. By the time evening rolled around Keigo arrived home, you’d almost forgotten about the prank.

When Keigo flew back in, he looked haggard. His wings were nearly stripped, the feathers remaining torn up and frayed. The first thing you noticed when he stepped in from the balcony was the completely filthy state he was in, covered head to toe in dried blood and dirt.

When you got up to help him, he quickly assured you he was only banged up and that the blood wasn’t his.

“I’ll feel better after I shower,” He kissed you on the forehead as he walked by, dropping his filthy jacket in a hamper as he went to the bathroom.

It was a good while into the water running to fully remember.

The prank.

You shot up, eyes wide, staring at the door of the bathroom. You could hear Keigo cooing and humming under his breath as he washed himself peacefully.

He has no idea.

Running up to the door, you gave it a quick knock, opening your mouth to speak, but Keigo was far faster in cutting you off, “Sorry, honey! I’ll be out in just a sec, I’m almost done.”

You blanched.

The water turned off a few minutes later.

Shit.

You heard Keigo’s sharp gasp from inside the bathroom, followed by a string of nasty curses.

“(Y/N)?!” His voice rang with sing-song rage.

Oh fuck.

You might’ve taken it too far. Maybe.

Maybe.

Keigo burst from the bathroom, steam rolling from the opening.

He walked out, face flushed in anger and eyes vibrant against his newly darkened hair.

The prank worked, but at what cost?

His pretty, golden waves had been inked, stained black by dye you had mixed in with his conditioner and shampoo.

He stared you down, nothing but a towel slung on his hips.

You nervously smiled, “You’ve been pranked.”

Keigo deadpanned, horror overtaking his features as he processed your words.

“You... dyed my hair. As a prank.”

“That’s what I said, isn’t it?”

Keigo wet his lips, running a hand through his hair to tug a clump of strands down to inspect them.

You swallowed.

“I mean, good job,” Keigo released the strands, taking slow steps towards you. “On finally getting me back.”

You stumbled back, not liking the glint in his nearly-orange eyes, “T-Thank you.”

Your back hit a wall.

Keigo stalked you down, not speaking until he was chest-to-chest and bearing down on you.

Notably, Keigo was still fucking gorgeous. Changing his hair color didn’t at all prevent him from being the most stunning person on the planet. His new ‘look’ was just quite a bit... different. His rapidly drying, raven-colored hair made him look a few shades paler, the smattering of freckles of his nose and cheeks standing out more. The new, stark contrasts in his color palette brought out the red shade in his irises making them burn like fury-filled embers.

“If it makes you feel better,” Your mouth was almost too dry to speak. “You look really hot still?”

Keigo blinked at you.

“You think flattery like that is going to save you from your retribution?” His voice was clipped, but heavy. He was breathing heavily, pupils-dilated—

Oh.

Keigo scooped down, throwing you over his shoulder and clapping a hand on your ass, hard. Your cry was muffled by his back as he hauled you to the bedroom, towel lost on the way.

You were dumped onto the floor, falling to your hands and knees as your stared up at Keigo’s nude form. His newly brunet hair, sculpted, lithe muscles with his nearly featherless wings, he looked like some sort of fallen angel figure as opposed to the hero he usually played.

It was a good look, and it only served in making your insides heat up and breath come harsher.

Based on the way that Keigo’s dick was already fully hard, slowly being pumped by one of his vaguely dye-stained hands, he felt similarly.

Keigo’s free hand curled into the hair on the back of your head, dragging you forward. The head of his cock pressed into your hot cheeks, smearing a few pearls of preak.

“You’re real smart, you know, getting me back like this,” Keigo’s voice had gone eerily calm.

With a devious glint in his coppered eyes, he smiled, digging his nails into your scalp. The pain only made your press your thighs together, wishing for more.

Keigo apparently didn’t appreciate your response all that much.

His cock slapped against one of your cheeks, pressing the hot head of it against your lips, “Let’s just see if you can take what you dish out, angel, hm?”

You hollowed your cheeks, Keigo wasting no time pressing at the back of your throat. All you could do was stare up at him in his new raven-haired form, eyes watering as he fucked your mouth without pleasantries. As spittle leaked from your mouth, slick dripping from your cunt, you wanted nothing more than to try.

[chaoticgoodandu]

Could i request something wlw where the female hero has a crush on the female Villian that also has a crush on the hero, but they're both oblivious please? Thank you!!

#26

Not a prompt

Hero couldn’t help but think that it was very quiet night. Almost suspiciously quiet. She had been spying on Villain’s base for hours and nothing had happened. No one had gone in or out or moved cargo. It was too calm.

Hero pondered what that could mean before leaning back against the roof she crouched upon. Was Villain even at the base tonight? She could be out with friends or on a date or whatever it was that people their age did on a Friday night when they weren’t obsessively following their nemesis around.

Not that Hero was obsessive, she thought of it as doing her civic duty. She had magic and therefore she needed to use her powers to help people. Not that she minded it when it came to fighting Villain.

Villain was like a mystery Hero couldn’t solve. She thought about her when she woke up in the morning and when she fell asleep at night.

Hero sighed and shook her head, even in her thoughts she sounded obsessed. She knew she wasn’t, she knew that there was something else there that she hadn’t examined yet. If she looked a bit deeper she would recognize she had a little bit of a crush on Villain. Not that she’d ever admit it, what kind of a hero fell for villains anyway. No she wouldn’t examine her feelings for Villain, she’d just sit on the roof and do her job.

It didn’t matter that she still had the jacket Villain had lent her at home. That didn’t mean anything. It was just a nice jacket. It didn’t matter that she wouldn’t wash it because it smelt like Villain’s perfume. Hero told herself that it was just a keep sake from her favorite criminal. Nothing more.

————————-

(Villains POV )

Hero had been sitting outside of her base for hours now and Villain couldn’t help but roll her eyes. Of course her dedicated counterpart would be here on a Friday. Didn’t Hero have a life outside of work ? Not that Villain was one to talk. She’d been sitting on a skyscraper watching Hero spy on her base for most of the night. Not that she really needed to. She was a very competent criminal, she knew she was, but when it came to Hero she always went to personally see her. Villain hadn’t ever sent henchmen to fight in her place with Hero like she did with Other Hero.

As much as Villain enjoyed their banter and battles, it was always concerning to see Hero. For one thing, she didn’t even have a protective suit or anything. It was always just black sweats or leggings with a hoodie. Villain thought that the city’s pro heroes organization would have at least gotten her a decent super suit. She was the most powerful Hero in the city after all. But no they did not, today she didn’t even have a hoodie or jacket, just a t shirt with leggings.

It reminded Villain of that night last month. Villain had found Hero cold and shivering, fighting violently with SuperVillain in the rain. Obviously Villain couldn’t let them continue, it wasn’t a fair fight. So she did something unthinkable and joined in. SuperVillain had been relatively easy to overtake that night, but Villain knew he would come back if she let him go. So she had killed him.

Villain remembered the look of horror and relief on Hero’s face. She still couldn’t explain why she had done it. She also couldn’t explain why she had walked the shaking, shocked Hero to her base (it had only been a few blocks away) and given her an umbrella to sheild her from the rain. Villain chocked it up to her being a little bit protective of her nemesis.

Which still didn’t explain why she had given Hero her jacket on the way out.

Ughhh

Villain didn’t want to think about that night anymore. She’d embarrassed herself and Hero had been awkward with her since. For the last few weeks, they hadn’t even bantered during fights and whenever she had gotten close to Hero, Hero wouldn’t even look her in the eyes. It was terrible and it was easier to think that she had only done those things for Hero because of the sanctity of nemesiship. It was better to think that than wonder if Hero had thought she came on too strong.

Ughh

Villain looked down at Hero and wondered why she wasn’t wearing a jacket. She knew she had one, she had literally given her one. But there her hero was, on a cold night, sitting on a roof, shivering. Villain couldn’t help herself. Even if things got more awkward, she still cared about her. She pulled out her phone and gave Henchmen an order.

A moment or two later Henchmen launched a package up to the roof Hero sat upon. She saw Hero startle and prepare for a fight. Then, when no one came to fight, she very suspiciously opened the box and looked around confused when she saw the contents. Villain knew Hero couldn’t see her from here but she still ducked down a bit.

Hero pulled out the hoodie, one of Villain’s favorites, and looked around again. Then her sweet nemesis shrugged and pulled it on. Villain smiled at how large it looked on Hero, she sometimes forgot that Hero was much shorter than her. She saw Hero search the skyline one more time before she sat back down and refocused on the base.

Villain realized she would need to address her feelings sooner or later. On the bright side, she at least had the knowledge that Hero was safe.

On the other hand, she was down two jackets.

[kitkatopinions]

As much as I like Oscar, do you think it would have been better for Oz to have reincarnated into Ruby instead? She'd be more active in the plot with Salem now focusing on her. We might get a Yang vs Hazel fight when the latter eventually goes after her, and with the whole Lost Fable aftermath, their reactions might be different since its not a random farm boy, so they might be hesitant to yell or attack her.

This is a bit of a complicated question.

There are a couple of problems with Oscar, but a big problem with it is: The show is using Oscar as a main protagonist, rather than Ruby or her team. He's more important to Salem, arguably more central to the plot, and is more active and involved especially in volumes 7 and 8 than Ruby or the rest of her team. As he is not the protagonist, and RWBY is marketed and treated as a show about girls, this is obviously a big problem.

On top of that, Oscar hasn't gotten much personal development despite being treated like the main protagonist, and he contributes to a cast bloat problem. Oscar is essentially a clone of Ruby these days, saying similar things and acting in a very similar way, the only real difference being that he's brutalized where Ruby is coddled, given more moments with villains, etc. Now, this wasn't always the case. Oscar once was more pessimistic, contrasting Ruby's optimism, and more careful, contrasting her recklessness. But now, he's become little more than a second Ruby, overtaking the role of protagonist in her place.

I really like Oscar in V4-6 and I don't think the problem is the idea itself, but rather the writers mishandling bringing him in, alongside their problem with a large bloated cast that keeps getting larger.

As for putting Oz in the heads of other characters, it’s a good base concept if you want to cut down on character bloat, but I personally think putting him in Ruby’s head and making her his host is... Not quite a mistake, but something that could have a lot of pitfalls and problems that anyone attempting this in like a re-write would want to be very careful to avoid. Ruby as a character struggles with feeling like she’s important to the plot and struggles with not being an active character, which makes it very hard to see her as a feminist character or an empowered female character. Putting Ozpin in her head would make her much more plot relevant, but there’s a problem if she’s only relevant because of a man, if the main villain only cares about her because she’s a means to get to a man. What I think is a good goal for re-writes or alterations is making sure Ruby is a much more central and active hero by virtue of her own actions and merit, and that can be accomplished even if she’s Oz’s host, but in my opinion, I would find it very hard to do so.

And making her be Oz’s host has some questionable implications unless you’re also willing to fundamentally change things like how Oz’s soul merging works, and altering how Ozpin typically interacts with and sometimes takes control of his hosts. Consider the moment in V5 when Oscar wants to fight in the Battle of Haven on his own, and Ozpin takes over his body against his wishes. While that’s a moral gray area that I personally can’t blame Ozpin for, that sort of thing gets a bit dicer when you have him in the body of a girl that you want to be central, important, and empowered. For instance, the idea of Pietro controlling Penny’s movements and using her mouth to speak through was very uncomfortable for me to watch, and a lot of that was because of how heavy Penny’s storyline had been about identity and agency (something lots of young women struggle with,) but also just because the idea of a man taking complete control of a woman’s body is uncomfortable to me no matter the circumstances, especially if we’re meant to see said man as a benefactor who’s just doing what he must to protect the girl in question. On top of that, Ruby can’t ever just leave Oz in this scenario. If she doesn’t want to talk to him, she can’t just walk away, if she decided she didn’t want to be in the fight, she can’t just leave because Ozpin is too imperative. And even if Ozpin never does take over her body, he still could, and all of this just feels more uncomfortable with a woman character than it does with a male character, especially when it’s the main female character.

And on top of that, as a mentioned, unless you fundamentally change how Oz’s magic works, you have to contend with the fact that every time Ozpin uses his magic, he slowly merges with Ruby and she absorbs into his personality. Which is obviously... Kind of a big problem, if we want Ruby to be an empowered and centered main protagonist who has a lot of agency and is active.

Again, I’m not saying there’s no way to do a ‘Ruby is Ozpin’s host’ concept well, just that I think it’d be difficult and people who do so would likely struggle with it. I tend to think it isn’t much of a solution to the problems at hand. Having Oz host in other characters who are plot relevant could be a fair solution if you’re struggling with character bloat, like putting him with Ren or Jaune (though with Jaune especially you still have to struggle to have Ruby be the main focus.) I even recently heard of the concept of him living in Mercury’s head rent free, which could be a fun way to set him on the path to redemption early if you’re into that. And heck, it’s easier to deal with the pitfalls of having Ozpin host in a woman character if said character isn’t the main protagonist, like Nora or Emerald (another fun wildcard choice.)

In re-writes, any of the various problems could be worked well around, but as for the show proper... No, I don’t think they should’ve gone with Oz hosting in RWBY, because they would’ve screwed it up. They would’ve done it horribly, and I think it’d be even worse than what we have. Personally, I wish they hadn’t tried to make it ‘girl power’ at all, and had just gone with Jaune as a main character from the start. And that pains me to say, because I’m a long time feminist who is always pushing for better rep for women in media. But I’d rather have a piece of media that has next to no women characters than a piece of media where they’re constantly advertising and marketing and promising strong female characters only to constantly struggle to portray them and constantly sideline them for men. That feels like it’s taking advantage, that feels like a major disappointment, that feels like you’re being cheated, and it feels like they see you as someone they need to pander to but don’t actually want to include.

[just-mirko]

lavender petals - part 1

MASTERLIST

Mirko x Reader

Angst, Slow-ish burn, fluff, 

WC: 4.1K

MANGA SPOILERS  IN LATER PARTS

  A steady and constant roll of tapping continued outside

where the rain poured down in fleets of cold water. The little drops all

together sounded like thousands of typewriters; the tiny stamps pressing fresh

ink stains into parchment. The storm did not only darken the sky but slowly,

the concrete was dampened into a charcoal shade and the glass windows collected condensation. The scent of petrichor had not reached where I was, but the

second I stepped outside I could already feel it overtaking my senses. have caused me to be

upset, and make me curse the heavens, but today, the rain started just as the

the shop was about to close, only 30 minutes till I would lock the doors and turn

around the little double-sided sign; switching it to “welcome” to “come back

later. I could not anticipate any customers would actively rush to my store in

the terrible weather, so I accepted it as an easy break where I could stay inside

and relax with warm herbal tea. 

            My shoes squeaked beneath me when I turned back to the

service counter. Aromas and floral notes were everywhere I stepped. Even if you

stood still, they still changed. orchids, roses, daisies, and violets all

dancing together in harmony. 

            Once I reached behind the counter, I could see every

corner of the shop in its array of colors that seemed duller than usual from

the lack of sunlight. Nonetheless, they still stood out against the dull pots

and glass vases.  

            ‘I should be done for the day’ I thought to

myself, already having swept the floor, put out the new flowers, and clipped

the old ones before the storm arrived. An overdramatized sigh passed my lips

when I went to sit at the stool next to the register. 

            Sitting behind the register was always slightly

inconvenient, because blocking my view of the entrance to the store was a

large, and I mean large, bouquet of fresh lavender sprigs. They were normally

used as filler plants but had just come in today and I still could not decide

what to do with them. Additionally, I lacked a new arrangement to add them too,

so they were left out to stand alone.

            By far they were the most prominent in the store. Their

sized rivaled all the large wedding table pieces we had. And the smell, though

calming, gave me a headache after being with them all day. 

            It is not like anyone would buy them either. They were not

as easy on the eye as a rose, three times as expensive, and once again,

typically used as filler flowers. 

            I settled on scrolling on my phone to distract myself

from thinking about what to do with them. I did not want to wait too long to

sell them lest they wilt.  

            ‘Oh look, my webtoons updated.’

            Fifteen-minutes passed quickly and mindlessly. Only 15

minutes till I could lock up and go home. The storm still had not relented, and

now, the rain was accompanied by large clashes of thunder and lightning. 

            These days life was quite simple. It was not exceptional

nor terrible, but a mediocre and peaceful existence that brought me the chance

to do what I loved. I had friends I visited occasionally, a small business that

was doing well with the white day just around the corner (an eastern type of

valentine’s day).  But no matter how many

flowers I had, it wouldn’t quell the little part of my heart longing for

something more. 

            “CLASH”

            The lightning what getting closer outside. It got louder

and louder, making me jump in my seat a little. 

            “CLASH”

            The rain slammed into the ground, but something else was

happening as well. Something in the background of sorts. 

            “CRASH”

            A resonating bang that sounded nothing like lightning

erupted nearby. A car alarm blared as well. 

            ‘Could it be a villain?’ I asked myself as I look

over the purple blossoms to see if I could see what was going on from outside

my window. Alas, it must have been a street down. 

            ‘Why would they fight in this type of weather though?’

Villain activity has spiked rapidly in the last few weeks as the League of

Villains had risen to power than out of nowhere disappeared without a trace. Not

to mention the capture of stain had encouraged many of the morally grey

antagonists to step out of the shadows in pursuit of their own type of justice.

Everyone had their own definition. 

            I tried to stay up to date on villain activity but so

much was constantly happening. Three times a week we got a new story. In the

beginning, the attacks seemed petty and selfish. Things like; “3 criminals rob a

local bank” or “Enraged fire-type quirk user burns down workplace” but today,

they were more organized, harder to stop. All the villains were working towards

a greater goal that was easier to see. 

            A little bit ago, one of the most popular quirks inclusive

department’s CEO joined the LOV after an all-out fight. Many were injured. It

was practically a bloodbath. Citizens remember seeing ice and blue fire merge

in giant tornados in the sky. The entire building disintegrated without a

trace. A witness with still in shock commented that she saw a UA student emerging

from the rubble, but that claim was shut down instantly by that student’s very

own teacher. 

            Unease was everywhere. People even began to stop trusting

figures of authority out of fear they might not be who they said. I was not a

target to any kind of villain myself, but who knows if I could become just

another statistic on the news.

            Police sirens came into earshot. 

            I guess it was a criminal after all. Soon enough I would

be able to find a nice little article online detailing everything that happened

with a cover image of an unscathed hero smiling at the camera as if all were

well. How they tried to convince us that all was wel-

            The chime of bells interrupted my thoughts when someone

came through the store door, very close to closing time. 

            When I looked up at them, I completely froze, unknowing

of what to do say, even think. 

            Before me stood… Mirko? Mirko. Mirko the Rabbit Hero. The

number #4 hero. The best female hero. And she was- Injured? 

            She stood with her shoulders rolled back but she was

panting heavily. Her platinum hair dripped water onto the pristine checkerboard

floors I just mopped. Across her, the skin on one of her shoulders was a crimson

slash. The blood that came from it dripped partially into her hair, staining it

slightly; and partially mixed with the water she was absolutely drenched in. She

looked cold in the light hero gear. 

            In her weak state, she still held an air of strength. When

I looked up in obvious shock at her condition, I was met with piercing red eyes

and a smile I would describe as manic on anyone else. 

            “C-can I help you—are you okay?” I stumble out when I

started to panic, realizing that she just fought the cause of all the racket

down the street.         

            My response only looked to entertain her, and she smiled

wider chuckled then pulled her hair over one shoulder: twisting it to ring out

the excess water (and blood).

            “Yea, you do sell flowers, right?” She said. We were

obviously on different pages. She seemed completely relaxed as she was still

bleeding a watered-down red puddle onto the floor. Meanwhile, I was seriously

concerned about her health. Online, I simply assumed that every pro-hero held a

façade. That they were not as cocky, brave, or positive as they seemed once the

cameras were cut. This though was a spitting image of every picture of her I

had seen. Despite that, nothing could have prepared me for this in person-encounter.

            “Y-yes I sell flowers” 

            I frantically scanned across the store for something for

my eyes to latch onto. My fingertips pressed hard against the side of the

resister to the point where my fingertips were turning white and my knuckles

began to cramp. 

            Mirko walked forward. Despite her injuries, she did not

have any limp and strolled casually over to some of the display stands

near the front window. I fidgeted with my finger while I stumbled over to where

she was. Her gaze we currently focused on some white lilies, though she soon

switched to some yellow roses. 

            “What is the, um, the occasion- For the flowers?” The

words tumbled out of my mouth. They felt out of order and out of place. Seeing a

hero in public is a strange thing. As amazing as they are, you always suspect

that there is an underlying threat of danger. You are both drawn to them yet

repelled by the hint. It's always ‘Why would a hero be here.” That wasn’t

the occasion now though. She was just- here for flowers? She was definitely just

off from work and needed a few band-aids; at most, stitches. My mind still had a

rough time thinking over why she so casual. I hoped this doesn’t happen often

for her. 

            Mirko’s fingers paused when she traced the outline of an

imported lily. 

            “A friend of mine got his ass beat up by a walking flamethrower”

The way she said that, so lightheartedly, with a slight smirk on her face, but

sadness in her eyes confused me. 

            “Is he a hero too?” I inquired; taken aback by the lack

of filter.  It had nothing to do with the

flowers, but my curiosity got the best of me. 

            “Hawks.” She shortly stated before turning back towards

me.

            A look of recognition must have crossed my face as she did

not explain any further and just continued. 

            “So…” She crossed her hands over her chest and looked up

towards me (we using Mirko’s canon height today cause she short short lol).  

            “What flowers would be best for ‘get better idiot’” Her

hair was still disheveled and soaking wet but the ethereal glow the rain seemed

to give her face made me want anything but eye contact. I shouldn’t really get

flustered so easily, but when a celebrity built like a Greek goddess steps into

your shop looking like she’s straight out of war…  

            “Well, I wouldn’t be able to make any custom arrangements

today because I’m closing-“I looked down at my watch for the time. “5 minutes

ago, but we have many premade sets and custom vases if you’re interested?”

            I tried to seem chipper and avert my gaze from her hair,

bleeding shoulder, and foot that was insistently tapping on the wet floor, but

in between each word I stole a glace that did not go unnoticed. 

            “That’s okay, I’m fine with a pre-made bouquet.” I

fiddled with my thumbs once more. She was really giving me nothing to work

with. 

            “Any flowers in specific you like?” I asked, grasping for

straws. Mirko’s expression was perfectly neutral and ambiguous. Even if she

gave me a color, I could work off that, but all I had was a name and extra

mopping to do. 

            ‘I wonder if blood will stain my tile’

            What she said next seemed to fit with the personality I

was slowly assembling her. 

            “You guess.” And with that, she turned to look at more

bouquets and potted plants that lined the shelves. 

            The lavender! I thought, finally thinking I had found a

way to get rid of them but realized that may not be well suited as a get well

soon gift. 

            Hawks. Hawks. Hawks. The bird hero. The bird men. Red

feathers, right? 

            Because of the hero’s color pallet, per

se, I was drawn to red roses and yellow daisies, maybe some red and white

lilies. I found an arrangement I thought fit on one of the shelves next to a

window, where it was still raining outside. I carefully picked the flowers up;

their silky petals caressed my hand. Two petals floated down onto the floor as

I relocated them back to the assembly station. 

            “Would you like a vase with this?” I questioned. Her ears

perked towards me, shocking me in the slightest. Of course, it was not unusual,

but with how she seemed to hear me from across the room without turning her

head made me fear that she would hear my heartbeat racing in my chest. This was

a hero. A real-life hero. God, I hope I do not mess this up. 

            “Mmmhnn,” She said, inflecting that meant yes. I walked

near a shelf where we stored them and looked at the variety of glass, plastic,

and even porcelain vases reserved for special occasions. My eye was stuck on a

red one that caught the soft lighting of the store beautifully. I reached up to

grab it and held the cool glass in my hand. With the sleeve of my jacket, I

began to brush off some of the dust, ignoring the mark it left.

            “Ooh, I like that one” I heard from behind me. Quite

startled I jumped, and the vase left my hand, seconds from crashing into the

floor. Before I could blink, Mirko had caught it agilely. 

            “The color is nice,” She said as she turned it over in her

hands, clearly pleased with having shaken me. 

            Honestly, the banter was a nice break from today. I guess

it would not hurt to lighten up a little. 

            “Yea,” I said with a gentle smile. 

            I had almost finished totaling her order and was putting

the flowers in the box to protect from the rain when I looked over at Mirko and

saw her quite intrigued by the lavender practically overtaking my desk. 

            “We just got that lavender in! It's fresh and quite relaxing.”

I hummed to myself, pleased with the wrapping I did on Hawk’s bouquet.

            “How much for them?” She asked turning to me inquisitively.

            “Well lavender isn’t normally sold alone but that’s about

10 arrangements worth” I said pointing to the sheer number of flowers. Upon

the counter, they were more than two feet tall. 

            “So?” She said, resting her elbows upon the table and leaning

in to smell the lavender even more. The ivory ears atop her head sloped

downwards a little more reminding me of a little puppy when they got pet. An

obvious show of their aromatic effects. 

            “Two-hundred, though I could definitely get you a smaller

amount if you would like, they’re sold twenty per bundle just because of how

hard they are to transport and a how delicate they te-“

            “I’ll take them all,” She said with an aggressive smile

and firm shake of her head. There was a switch in her tone like she suddenly

decided she revealed too much of herself to the general public. I did not like

thinking that though. That she saw me as the public. Everyone wants to be

special sometimes.  

            “How was errr- work today?” I asked, clearly insinuating

my concern for her condition.

            A small shadow passed over her face. Her eyes got a

little darker and the corners of her mouth turned down before her typical passionately

a confident smile came back.

            “Nothing I can’t handle” Those smug words were

accompanied by a flourished wink that was embellished her white eyelashes.

            “I heard a crash nearby. Was there a villain?” This time

she did not hesitate to answer. 

            She finished paying and gave me an address to deliver

them to tomorrow. One to a hospital, and one to a home address. I expected a

PO box and assumed her address was not something she just gave away, but that was

not the only thing I was warmly excited about. Instead of signing “Mirko” her

formal hero title on the receipt, She signed her real name, Rumi Usagiyama.

             ---

            The weather was much more considerate this morning. When I

awoke, golden rays filtered light through my lashes into my eyes. The faint

sound of birds chirping and bustling people in the city below faintly reached my

ears. 

            I lived right above my flower shop, making my commute to work

 conveniently. I chose to dress a little bit nicer today, opting for a cream-colored

turtleneck and dark washed jeans instead of my normal gardening attire. Spring

was right around the corner in Musutafu Japan. Winter was leaving and the city

was in the awkward middle state where it's too cold to wear spring clothes but

too sunny to stay in jackets. 

            Since yesterday was Saturday, I had today off, kinda. I

just had a few flower deliveries to complete before I could go back home and lay

on the couch eating watermelon sour patch kids (ichor itself) and reading

terribly done 9k fanfics online. (Wow! Our reader!! Is super!!! Self!!!!

Aware!!!!!) 

            My brain had completely blocked out everything that

happened last night, so when I checked my order list and saw Rumi

written in neat handwriting, my confusion was immense. 

            ‘So, It wasn’t a dream then…’’ huh.”

            I walked downstairs into my store. I saw a few

schoolchildren peeking in the dark windows since there were no lights on to look

at the flowers. I waved to them and then chuckled to myself when they left tiny

little handprints on the glass. Tall buildings could be seen across. A café, a

tattoo shop, a little library, and many small businesses that were nestled right

in the center of town where they got lots of attention. Around the back exist to

the stores were where most of the employees parked. My friend and co-worker had

called in sick this weekend, so it meant I had to do all the deliveries myself.

            I went over to the storage room. A wave of cold rushed

over me and sent tingles down my entire body. This was always kept cold to keep

the flowers alive longer, but always hated retrieving boxes from there. 

            I steadily grabbed the lavender-filled box and stacked

Hawk’s arrangement box on top of it. The white cardboard stood so tall in front

of me when I held them I could barely see when I walked out the back door and

over to my car where I nearly dropped them loading them into my car’s trunk. 

            I clumsily got into the driver’s seat and started the

engine to head to the first address. Hawk’s hospital. Right in the center of

town, it was only 10 minutes when you accounted for traffic.             

            The hospital was the nicest in Mafatsu, with white pillars

and balconies on some patient's rooms. Only the best for heroes. When I got out

of my car and drew near, the building felt like it was swallowing me whole in

its large size. 

            My soft footsteps appeared insignificant with prestigious

doctors and nurses bustling around in choreographed chaos. When I got to the reception

area, a pink-haired nurse with a kind smile greeted me cheerfully. 

            “Hello! How can I help you today?” She began typing before

I even said anything. Maybe a prediction quirk. 

            “Hey, I’m here to drop off flowers from Mirko for Hawks?”

            She nodded in understanding and scanned her eyes over my

body, then the box I was holding, all while typing fluidly into a computer. Finally,

her gaze broke and she looked down at a small printer that made a small sticker

with the words visitor pass in bolded font. 

            “He will be on the top floor, level 60 in room 219. If he

isn’t in his room, just call a nurse with the pager in there, he’s been getting

out a lot recently.” She rolled her eyes in annoyance. 

            “He really just wants to get back to work but whenever he

flies he leaves a trail of blood and feather in his path”

 Her hair swished when she leaned over to give

me the papery sticker. Her fingertips brushed against my palm for a second

longer than platonic before she went back and waved goodbye to me. Her cheeks were tinted slightly pink.

            The encounter made my heart rush but that might just because

it’s the first romantic-ish thing that has happened to me in a while. I mean

she was pretty- but we scarcely talked. My palm still tingled where our hands

touched though. I was so distracted I did not notice when I found myself in Hawk’s

room. 

            I had never delivered anything to a hero before. Should I

just drop them in and leave? My hand rested atop the doorknob questioning how

to do this. The fluorescent hospital lights desaturated everything including my

ability to make cohesive thoughts. 

            Just as I opened the door, I heard a shattering sound,

something collapsing, and then 

            “Wait no shit-“Another thing fell to the ground. “-fuck” I

carefully opened the door. To see Hawk’s the pro hero, clutching his side with

one hand, and holding a sideways IV drip in one hand, but the fluid bag itself

was on the floor, along with some kind of glass and a medical device I couldn’t

identify from the various dents and scratches on it. It did not look like he

noticed me yet, he was much too preoccupied. 

            “Hey should-“ 

            “AH!” He yelled turning towards me. I couldn’t flinch

fast enough before three-foot-long red feathers with murderous intent came

spearing towards my head. Within that instant in closed my eyes prepared to be

dead but when I opened them up, the feathers were hovering just centimeters

away from my skull.

            I shocked me that I was still holding the flower box when

I checked. My eyes were wide as I stood still, jaw open, not a single breath

leaving my mouth. 

            “Are you a new nurse or something?” The feathers remained

there. I gulped before answering, my body felt light, flight, or fight already taking

place. 

            “I’m a- a florist.” I gestured down at the box with my

logo on it, and he seemed to relax a little bit. 

            “Oh.” He replied and the feathers returned to beside him.

He tried to make the IV drip stand back up again, but in a futile attempt he

gave up, just letting it fall to the group beside the other tools. He turned away

from me.

            ‘He is obviously in pain right now’ He faced away just

to hide the scowl and how much he was now clutching his side. 

            He looked over his shoulder “Who sent you?”

            “Mirko” I responded relieve that he was no longer about

to kill me. 

            “Where should I leave the flowers?” 

            “The table next to my bed” I stepped over there. An

assortment of papers where there is messy handwriting that I had no place in

reading. Nonetheless, I caught the words “Touya.” Too bad I didn’t know any Touyas.

I sat the box down and opened it up.

            Luckily with everything that went on, I didn’t destroy any

of the blooms. 

            “Did Mirko say anything about me?” He questioned quickly.

As much as he tried to seem tough, he valued her opinion very much. 

            “Get well soon and all of that, nothing much, she was too

busy teasing me, you know?”

            “Mirko was? Teasing you?” His eyebrows furrowed in confusion

before settling into a knowing look. 

            “Ohhhh” He winked. 

            “No no, it's nothing like this I promise I just met her.” 

            “Mmmn k” He didn’t believe me in the slightest. 

            “Just watch out she packs a punch” 

            Hawks walked over to where the flowers were and observed

the arrangement. He had a particular fondness for the red lilies, the same ones

that Mirko liked. He talks about her punch though reminded me of the crashes

and villain attack last night.

            “I hope she’s okay, she seemed pretty beat up last night

after the battle.” 

            “Eh, she recovers inhumanly quick. Something to do with the

rabbit in her.”

            He looks over to me and paused. 

            “What’s your name?”

            “(Y/N)” 

            “(Y/N Hmmm) He mumbled to himself like he was getting

used to the way it sounded. 

            “I can’t imagine this will be our last encounter (Y/N),

It was nice to meet you.”

            I smiled graciously and sighed. 

            “Nice to meet you too.”

[psychosistr]

Meet Me Halfway- Chapter 3

Summary:  Liquidator's wicked scheme comes to fruition and Bushroot couldn't be happier for his friend's success. The rest of the town, however, couldn't be more miserable for it.

Notes:  Bushroot struck me as the type that would be happy for a friend's success, even if it made others miserable, simply because he was so unaccustomed to having friends that he'd be happy for them if they were happy- sort of a "I don't always understand what my friend does or why they do it, but I support them anyway!" thing.

-First Chapter-

While they weren’t allowed to have a TV in the lab itself, there was one in the breakroom above the coffeemaker. Bushroot tended to drink his fair share of coffee in the workplace- usually at least two or three cups a day, depending on how long his shift was- but today he’d had so many cups of coffee that he could practically feel himself shaking with the extra caffeine pumping through his veins. He didn’t even need the coffee, he just wanted to make sure he was around the TV as much as possible without being called out for it. Today was Liquidator’s big debut as a supervillain, and he didn’t want to miss it!

Unfortunately (or rather fortunately, depending on your point of view), after the fifth (or was it sixth?) trip to the coffeemaker, he noticed it was nearly empty. Figuring it would serve as an even better excuse to stay in the breakroom longer, Bushroot began the process of refilling the pot. He went to the nearby sink to get the water, but his eyes stayed glued to the TV screen, hoping for some breaking news bulletin about a major water-related catastrophe. He was so distracted by the screen, that he didn’t even notice the lack of water spilling over the edge of the coffee pot despite how long it had been under the tap.

He did, however, notice something was wrong when he tried to move the coffee pot away and found that it was stuck. “Huh?” Bushroot looked back at the faucet and his eyes widened when he saw the orange, rubbery substance currently filling the coffee pot and connecting it to the mouth of the faucet. “What the..?” He gasped, an excited and giddy smile overtaking his face when he finally figured out what was going on. “He did it! He actually did it!”

Fascinated by the changes to the water, Bushroot spent quite a bit of time poking and prodding at it to test the texture, density, and elasticity. It was truly remarkable! Liquidator must have changed the chemical composition of the water from the Saint Canard Waterworks and allowed it to spread to every connected water source in the city. Brilliant!

This was amazing! This was a scientific marvel! This was-

“This is terrible!” He heard a lovely but anxious voice say as the door burst open. Looking to it, he saw his female coworker Dr. Rhoda Dendron walking in and looking particularly distressed. “Dr.Bushroot, have you heard? All of the water in our greenhouse sprinkler systems suddenly turned into-” She saw the water in the sink and gasped. “In here, too?!”

“Huh..?” Bushroot blinked dumbly for a moment before looking back at the rubber-filled coffee pot in the sink. “O-Oh! Yeah! I was just refilling the coffeepot and this happened! Pretty weird, huh?”

“Terrible is more the word that I would use..” Rhoda said with a troubled frown while walking closer to look at the sink. “Who would do such a thing?”

Bushroot bit the inside of his bill to keep his face from smiling. “Must be some new supervillain or something- this seems like something one of those costumed weirdos would do, right?”

While Rhoda expressed her concern for the state of the town’s water supply and her worry over the health of the university’s plant life, Bushroot couldn’t help but feel a strange sense of warmth and pride. Liquidator had done exactly what he’d set out to do: He’d left a big impact on the town that no one would be able to ignore.

Soon everyone would come to know and fear the name of “The Liquidator”.

_______________________________________________________________

With the city in the middle of a water crisis during a heatwave, the university decided to send everyone home so they could instead divert their financial resources into paying the Liquidator’s extortion fees for bottled water in an attempt to save their plants. While Bushroot did worry for the safety and well-being of the plants, he was excited by the idea of being let out of work early so he could have more time to follow Liquidator’s exploits via the radio and TV stations that were giving live broadcasts of the epidemic.

Over the course of that single day, Bushroot got to learn more about Liquidator than he had in the two weeks he’d known the supervillain: According to the news, he used to be the billionaire bottled-water tycoon known as Bud Flood. Bushroot never paid much attention to the news before, but he did remember reading something a couple of weeks ago about the businessman being a suspect in the poisoning of his competitors water supplies but, according to the town’s local superhero Darkwing Duck, he had accidentally fallen into one of the contaminated vats and perished. The timing lined up perfectly- Liquidator showed up in his greenhouse only a day or two after Bud Flood’s reported accident, and it would certainly explain why he felt like he had nowhere else to go if he was allowing people to think he was dead. What an intriguing backstory full of interesting twists and turns!

He didn’t get to see Liquidator at the greenhouse that afternoon after work, but he was okay with that- extorting the city for money must be hard work. Besides, he was sure he’d get to see him again soon so he could congratulate him properly!

Later that afternoon, around the time where it could be called early evening rather than late afternoon anymore, however, those hopes were crudely dashed as he set to clean up his dishes after dinner…

His apartment wasn’t anything special, just a little two-room unit with a combination kitchen and living area and a bedroom with an adjoined bathroom. He could probably look into getting a larger place if he really tried, but it felt cozy enough for one person to live in. Besides, being able to see and hear the living room TV while cooking or doing the dishes was a nice way to spend the evening!

He hummed along to some soda jingle playing in the background as he set his dishes in the sink. When he started to turn the handle for the sink, he had to pause and take a moment to laugh quietly to himself. “Oh, right- no water. Guess I should have asked him for a bottle earlier. Ah well, one night won’t hurt-” He was about to turn the faucet back to the off position when he was suddenly startled by a rush of water that came out all at once. “?!” Bushroot stared at the stream of clear liquid as it evened out to a normal flow- NORMAL. The water was back to NORMAL. That meant- “What happened to Liquidator..?” His voice was quiet, barely audible due to the fears and uncertainties choking him with worry.

Then, with all the plot-convenient timing the news broadcasts always seemed to have in their town, the commercials were suddenly cut off by the voice of that annoying news anchor that Bushroot usually tried to ignore. “Breaking news! The viscous villain known as the Liquidator’s reign of terror over the city has been thwarted by Darkwing Duck!”

“What?!” Bushroot turned the water back off and ran over to the couch so he could watch the television properly. “But- how?! He’s made of water, how could he-?!”

“The masked vigilante has refused to comment on how he defeated the supervillain, but has assured everyone that he won’t be causing any trouble for anyone any time soon. While the liquid-terror’s location is unknown, one thing’s for sure-” The reporter went on to say while the screen showed pictures of Audobon Bay and several other small bodies of water throughout the city such as swimming pools behind him. “Everyone in Saint Canard is happy to have their water back during the hottest season of the year!”

The reporter continued talking, but Bushroot’s mind didn’t hear the rest of what the loud-mouthed egomaniac had to say. He was too busy processing the fact that his friend had lost and that the only one who now knew his whereabouts was the hero who defeated him- information the caped crusader probably wouldn’t be too keen on sharing with someone like him.

Bushroot grabbed the remote and turned off the TV, preferring to sit in silence rather than hear the white noise of the reporter speaking in the back ground. He let his head fall into his hands while his elbows were propped up on his knees.

He should have known this would happen- Liquidator was a supervillain and Darkwing Duck was Saint Canard’s resident superhero. A fight between them was inevitable, even with all of Liquidator’s training and practice with his powers.

Knowing these things, however, didn’t make it hurt any less…

“Liqui…” He said in a shaky voice before crying quietly into his hands.

He hoped beyond hope that the reporter was wrong- that there would be another breaking news bulletin soon with word on a water-related crime.

<-Previous Chapter Next Chapter->

End Notes:  The downside of being friends with a supervillain: You have to see them lose more often than they win.

[ohblackdiamond]

liner notes/unused joke summaries for kiss fics (part iv)

Despite what my general dislike of the shift key and my tendency to mock all that I love might imply, I actually overthink everything I write to a great extent. I make no claims to these explanations being in any way enjoyable, but if you wanted to know what I was thinking while writing KISS fic… now you do. Part one can be found here. Part two is here. Part three is here. 

little t&a --If Paul had boobs, they would be big and Gene would want to grab them.

>>Title from a Rolling Stones song of the same name; most of the chapter titles are from another Stones song, “The Spider and the Fly.” I started it during quarantine as a means to occupy myself and destress, and didn’t initially plan on posting it at all. Once I’d written five chapters without having posted it or mentioned it to anyone, I figured, well, I guess this might as well go somewhere, so I put it up. I had the hope that it’d give me something to strive for during the stress of lockdown, and I’d assumed that I wouldn’t ever have that much time to devote to a story again.

There were a couple of things that really inspired me. I’ve always enjoyed sexswaps as a bit of a guilty pleasure, but wanted to do a different take on them-- there’s this tendency for sexswaps to either be wacky hijinks or an excuse to write particularly brutal noncon. There’s also a tendency for the sexswapped character to almost automatically start adopting stereotypically feminine traits he didn’t have prior, with no real reason for it. I wanted to try and avoid all that as much as possible.

... There’s also another tendency for the sexswapped character never getting back to normal, and I wanted to avoid that, too. I mean, c’mon, KISS is supposed to start the Love Gun tour a month after the fic. Paul can’t exactly pull the trigger of a love taco. (Maybe gently brush it a bit...)

I had Paul already cursed for five days at the start of the fic because I thought it would make things easier and allow the plot to advance more quickly. I also felt like it would give him more autonomy-- prior to Gene showing up, he has tried (albeit in small ways) to get a handle on what’s happened to him, and while he’s hermited it up, he hasn’t given up. Autonomy in general was pretty important for me re: Paul. (Incidentally, probably one of my favorite things about this fic is that Paul’s made that poor twelve-year-old kid on his bike buy him sanitary napkins.)

I wanted to explore a couple of other things, too, mostly rock and roll’s (and KISS’ in particular) pretty heinous treatment of women. Gene and Paul argue in the eighties that groupies know the score from the beginning, and even postulates that those relationships are more “honest” than just taking a girl out to dinner. They’re not alone in this (and, of course, as married men, these days they try not to discuss those times at all); almost every band/artist from around that time period will give you the same answer. “The girls know what they’re doing.” I think many of them did know. I also think many of them came into those hotel rooms expecting a lot more than they ever received, and I think plenty of girls ended up at the very least disappointed by their encounters, if not humiliated or worse.

I don’t know if this was successful, but I also wanted to at least try to poke a few holes in celebrity/idol worship as well. Carol’s scathing comments to Paul-- “they [fans] think there’s something you’ve got that they can get at, but there’s not” pretty heavily exemplify behavior I’ve seen at conventions, fan meet-ups, etc. At the end of the day, well, there’s no point in putting them on much of a pedestal. I dunno. I’ve seen some weird crap in the name of fan worship, in and outside of RPS. Keith Richards talks about it in his book-- girls urinating on themselves out of sheer nerves/excitement just at seeing the band, etc., which, while disturbing, had to have given them a sense of being something beyond ordinary (and act accordingly, of course).

I don’t know. I like them a lot, but I can’t hero-worship these guys; they don’t live in the real world. They’re not, ultimately, relatable or accessible despite the billions of photos, the twitter posts, the meet and greets-- any more than they were 40-odd years ago. I think there can be a real danger in thinking they are. I wanted to show that, too, but again, I don’t know if it came across properly.

One of the aspects I really struggled with was getting a good handle on Paul’s innately slippery sense of identity without it overtaking the story entirely. Gene’s very stable identity was a good foil, and it helped that most of “t&a” is from his point of view, rather than Paul’s.

Another place I faltered with was Paul’s outing alone at CBGB. The first draft had the guy in the club slip quaaludes into his drink, but I really didn’t like that at all and felt it took too much control away from Paul/punished him for going out on his own. I thought it’d be more interesting if Paul deliberately took what he knew was a dangerous combination (alcohol + quaaludes) in the hopes that would make him feel better about sleeping with someone he didn’t care about.

Unfortunately, or fortunately, having him do that (and the way the scene with the guy at the club ends) also meant that I couldn’t have him hop right into bed with Gene that night, either, so that accounts for some of the delaying. I was also really wanting to make sure in general that when Gene and Paul finally did go all the way, there wasn’t any feeling of being coerced or pressured. Not that Gene would do either of those things, but I didn’t want him or Paul to be doing it out of any feeling of obligation or hurry; I wanted it to be as natural as possible, under the circumstances. And I wanted, again, Paul’s dubious sense of self and Gene’s ambiguous feelings about Paul(’s boobs) to come into play-- yes, Paul, now you, too, can take Gene on the amazing technicolor dreamdate you’ve been fantasizing about for the last seven years! Or, you know, not. Overall, there are some pacing issues and the story slows down considerably after Gene takes Paul home from CBGB, but I like to hope that most of the scenes add something.

There were a couple of secondary plotlines that got scrapped because I couldn’t get them to fit well enough with the narrative. One of them was Paul’s very troubled relationship with his sister, Julia. There’s a fair amount of references to her scattered throughout, and Paul brings her up on several occasions, generally without much provocation, and generally at mildly odd moments (at Central Park and immediately after getting drawn by Gene being the standouts). There was an initial draft of the chapter in which Ace calls Paul, where Julia’s the one calling Paul instead (after having gotten his number from their parents). I wanted to at least get the start of a reconciliation going between them. Ultimately I scrapped it because I couldn’t get it to flow with the main plot and never felt like I’d ever explored it thoroughly enough for it to be worth a detour.

The comparison between Paul and Carol is pretty blatantly obvious, even in the narrative. Paul and Gene both recognize it (Gene, initially, when he notes that Carol doesn’t seem to belong at 54 any more than Paul does), and it makes them highly uncomfortable. (Mary-Anne, Carol’s friend, also notices it-- “she [Paul] reminds me of Carol. Just pitiful.”) They’re both very shy, insecure people that have thrust themselves into a world they’re not naturally suited for (show business) in order to achieve their own ends. They’ve both put great stock in a single person who helped them (inadvertently or not) during a dark time, and are driven by those feelings, despite knowing that person is out of reach.

Physically, they’re intentionally mostly opposite (Carol’s short, with a slight build, lighter hair, blue eyes, vs. Paul being, well, Paul-- tall, fuller build, black hair, brown eyes). But narratively speaking, neither of them are described as beautiful; “cute” and “kind of pretty,” sure, but nothing past that (except when Gene says it towards the end). That was important, too, for a couple of reasons. One, I wanted to further the comparison between them; two, I wanted to at least try and dispel the idea that all groupies were glamorous; many of them were rather ordinary-looking.

Paul not being “playboy material as a girl” was very deliberate. I feel like a lot of sexswaps tend to make the guy in question end up a ridiculously hot babe, which didn’t quite jive with what I was going for (not that I wanted Paul to end up awful-looking, but...). ... He’s probably hotter than he thinks he is though; at least, Gene didn’t mind at all, and Pete thought he was pretty. I wanted him to be recognizable if one knew where to look (face, body language). I didn’t want him to end up a tiny, frail-looking waif-- given what he looks like as a dude, that didn’t make sense to me. So this meant the less perfect attributes had to stay and carry over to a female body. He ended up with big boobs because... well, honestly because if he wasn’t going to end up with a great figure overall, he might as well have great boobs. And I mean, really, his chest’s already pretty all right as-is.

I didn’t want there to be a love triangle, but I did want it obvious, at least in an offhand way, that Peter and Paul had had sex (Ace mentions it in the car with Peter, with his “how long did it take you”). I wanted to incorporate Ace and Peter to as great an extent as possible in general.

Marbas is an actual demon from The Lesser Key of Solomon, although other than the few sentences Paul reads off from that grimoire, there’s not much more information on him to be found. 

[another-sonic-blog]

Stages: Recovery

Stages: Intimate Friends: Pt.1: Recovery

ShadAmy (Friends to lovers SLOW BURN)

4k600

Previous: https://another-sonic-blog.tumblr.com/post/190590212605/stages-close-friends-pt4-the-realization

.

Shadow wasn't doing good.

To Amy, that was more than obvious. She didn't think he was going to take the 'live with me' so seriously. Amy thought that he was going to stay only a couple of weeks until he found a better place to live.

This is Shadow we are talking about after all.

He wouldn't want to live in an old rusty building, and although Amy enjoyed very much his company, she was starting to get annoyed at him.

Annoyed at the fact that he was bringing in females to his dorm at night.

Amy knew that Shadow was hurting and badly and this was his way to cope with Maria leaving him.

Going out Chaos knows where and sleeping with as many girls as possible.

Amy wouldn't have minded at all at the beginning, Shadow was a male hedgehog after all and he had his needs like everyone.

However, this wasn't the beginning.

Amy liked Shadow way too much to see him going out with other girls. Jealousy will overtake her and made her avoid him at all costs.

She preferred to give a blind eye than to see Shadow with other girls simply because it pained her.

Amy laid in her bed, as she watched the moon from her window. It was 4 a.m. and she could hear giggles coming from the other room where Shadow resided.

Female giggles.

She didn't know why she was keeping up with this.

Oh yeah, it was because she loved him.

.

"Shadow, I don't want to intrude but, if you want to have fun with your friends, there's plenty of hotels out there." Amy added, "Please be considerate, I live here too and um ... I hear everything."

Amy was in Shadow's dorm, it wasn't anything like his apartment but it still had that wet soil smell to it. His room was clean and organized unlike hers.

She was expecting him to be embarrassed or at least show some type of shame but instead, she met calm eyes.

"I'll try my best." He said.

Amy sighed, she can't threaten him to kick him out of the Resistance. She just didn't have the heart nor the energy to deal with that.

She gave him a smile which he returned, feeling relieved that his friend seemed to have forgiven him.

"Anyways, where do you go every night?" Asked Amy, she was about to take a seat on his bed but decided not and with a disgusted look she moved to a dining chair.

"I go drinking to get drunk."

Shadow rolled his eyes in amusement as he watched Amy. Did she believe that he didn't wash his bedsheets?

"I thought you didn't like drinking alcohol."

"Well, I don't exactly drink alcohol."

Amy gave him a confused look, which Shadow enjoyed very much

"You can't get drunk if you don't drink alcohol," said Amy.

"Yes, you can."

"How?"

Shadow then pointed to a green large bottle. To Amy, it looked like a champagne or vodka bottle. But even so, it didn't make much sense to her. To her knowledge, Shadow couldn't get drunk even if he tried. His body would detoxify rapidly and the effect would last a few minutes.

She looked at him once more, intrigued and Shadow gave her a smirk.

Her heart skipped a bit, damn it, she was too into him.

"That is-"

A knock interrupted Shadow and he growled between his teeth. He already had an idea of who could it be.

Amy went towards the door and opened it as it reveled the blue bur.

"Hey, Ames. Ready to go to work?"

Amy smiled at him, "Yes, let's go!"

Shadow watched the couple from afar. He sighed, he took into notice that lately, whenever he had some free time with Amy, their time was always interrupted by Sonic.

He was always taking her to work. Shadow had told Amy that Sonic was unnecessary. He was more than capable to take her to work; or if she wanted, she could take his bike.

And even so, she rejected him. She preferred to go with Sonic and even if Shadow didn't want to admit it ... that kinda hurt him.

She was giving him too much attention and Shadow disliked that. He knew that as a friend, he shouldn't get angry at Amy for wanting to go out with other friends. He was fine when she went out with Rouge or Cream but when it was Sonic.

He felt threatened. He felt as if Sonic would take her away from him at any moment.

Shadow was insecure, insecure at the fact that maybe one day, for some reason the friendship he has with Amy will disappear. Just like Maria disappear from his life.

Amy waved him goodbye and she held Sonic's hand.

And Shadow felt that same feeling of insecurity overtake him.

.

More giggles.

Amy tried to cover her eyes with her pillow but it wasn't working. She could feel her face get warmer as the giggles stopped.

Now she could hear him. Soft breathing suddenly became heavier and gasp for airs became more frequent. Grunts and delicate moaning filled her room and-

Chaos, she couldn't take it anymore.

As if her prayers were heard, she felt her phone vibrating next to her. She didn't care who it was, she just needed a distraction. She answered her phone.

"Hey Ames, sorry to wake you up but can you look outside your window?"

Amy did instantly and she found Sonic on his phone waving at her.

"What are you doing here?"

Amy sighed, she was always happy to see him. He proved once again that he had perfect timing and that he was truly her hero.

Sonic smiled from down the building to Amy, "Do you want to go for a walk?"

.

"So, are you ever going to tell him that you lost your job because you fought Maria?"

The reason why Sonic always took Amy to 'work' was that she didn't have one. Amy was hiding from Shadow the fact that she was fired from her job. She kindly asked Sonic to pretend to take her to work, but instead, he would take her to different job interviews.

However, rumors spread quickly and Amy was soon banned from working at other restaurants or shops. She was labeled as a 'troublemaker.'

"I don't think so, Shadow has already too much to think about," Amy said.

"Yeah, because fucking every day takes a lot of thinking," Sonic replied, anger showed in his voice.

"Sonic!"

"What? It's true!"

Although Sonic was happy that Amy tells him everything, he was angered that Shadow wasn't aware of all the things Amy was going through because of him.

But enough of that, he only cared about giving Amy some proper sleep.

He could tell that she wasn't getting enough sleep. He didn't want to tell her but he knew that Shadow's hookups must keep her awake at night.

Sonic placed his arm around her as they arrived at Sonic's apartment. Since he was staying for some time in the city, he decided that having a place of his own would be better than to disrupt the privacy of his two-tailed best friend.

"Thank you for letting me stay tonight at your place," said Amy, she was carrying a white bag which had clothes and utilities she needed for the night.

Sonic gave her a small pat on her back, "No problem, let's get this sleepover started."

.

Shadow opened his eyes and found a red cat girl on his bed, next to him.

What was her name? Jessica? Emma? Ana?

Not like he cares, she would leave as soon as she wakes up.

Shadow stood up from his bed and picked up a box of cigarettes that were on his dining table. He walked to the door and closed it behind him pretty loudly as if he wanted to wake the female that was in his room.

He hated heights, but still decided to smoke at the rooftop on the Resistance. Lately, he was finding himself doing things he didn't like to do.

As he reached the rooftop, he took a lighter out of his jacket's pocket and tuned on his cigarette. He took a breath out of it and exhale it. He actually liked the smell of the cigarette and he enjoyed doing it.

Shadow looked at the sunrise, he never thought he would come back to this place. Less, that he would become very close friends with the pink hedgehog.

He instantly smiled at the thought of the pink one. Amy's laugh and smile resonated in his head.

A sense of guilt overtook him as he remembered her request.

Amy was always there for him and this is how he pays her? By bringing uninvited guests to her house?

He tried, but he couldn't stop.

Shadow's heart still ached whenever he thought about Maria. He had no other scape, Shadow couldn't get drunk, he couldn't get addicted to drugs or cigarettes and for sure none of the things brought him any pleasure but sex.

His heart was always aching, he tried many things but the only thing that seemed to satisfy his broken heart for a couple of hours was intimacy.

For the moments he shares with other females were his only distraction and pain reliever.

But also, there was Amy. Probably the only one who could put his heart at ease and the only one who steals him a smile from time to time.

But even she was slowly separating from him.

And the more she went away, the more Shadow wanted to look for someone to do the intimacy he was craving.

Shadow finished his cigarette and turned it off properly before going back inside the building. It was a chilly morning and he was planning to go to Amy's room just to make sure she had enough blankets.

And if he was lucky, maybe he could sleep next to her like the time they did before.

Shadow arrived at her door and knocked several times. It was a Saturday and it was her free day, maybe she was just very asleep.

He knocked at again, but once again no response.

He began to think that maybe she was angry at him for bringing in another female to his room.

He knocked loudly this time and when he didn't get a response, he decided to enter her room.

Her room was messy, which didn't surprise Shadow at the minimum. Most of the days her room was like this but Saturday morning she would wake up early to clean. He thought he would find Amy doing some cleaning of the sort but instead he found an empty room.

It was 7:45 a.m. and in Shadow's knowledge, Amy was a heavy sleeper. She should be here, sleeping or cleaning. He walked towards her restroom, hoping that she would be there but nothing. He checked the small kitchen but nothing again.

He checked on the entirety of the Resistance building ... and nothing.

Shadow went back to her room as the same feeling began to overtake him. It was that same feeling he felt when Maria left him.

He sat on her bed as he touched his pounding heart, a bit of comfort came to him when he smelled her scent coming off her bedsheets.

But even that couldn't make him stop feeling this way.

Ever since Maria left him, there hasn't been a single day in which Amy wasn't with him. Even if it was just a couple of hours, Amy was there.

She had become an essential part of his everyday life but today, she wasn't there.

Shadow's heartbeat began to increase, his hands began to sweat and for the first time in his life, he thought he was going to get sick.

Would Amy be able to leave him? Did she really leave him?

No, Amy wasn't Maria.

But once again, he never expected Maria to leave him. He never thought that the one he loved the most would abandon him.

And there he was, holding his hands on his head trying to deny the thought.

Because although he didn't love Amy romantically, he did love her as a friend.

He would never expect her to leave him.

.

After a well deserved night of sleep, Amy had finally arrived at her home. Sonic and she spend a lovely night together. They watched movies, play video games and she even convinced him to do face masks with him.

It was 5 p.m. and she wondered if Shadow had woken up already. Maybe they could grab or make some dinner together.

She opened the door that leads to her room and she was surprised to see Shadow seating on the edge of her bed with his hands on his head as if he had a headache.

Shadow's head snapped so quickly to look at her that for a second Amy was scared to look at him.

And oh Chaos, if looks could kill, Amy would have been long dead.

"Where were you?"

Shadow's voice was deep, deeper and even had a raspy tone to it.

Amy stood quiet, still not understanding the event that was unfolding in front of her.

"Where were you?"

Shadow asked again, his voice was angrier and if Amy didn't know him well, she could hear that he was hurt.

Shadow approached her and it didn't take him long to find out who she was with.

It was Amy's scent mixed with Sonic's. For the first time, Shadow found something that he loved and hated at the same time.

Crazy thoughts began to fog his head.

It wasn't like he was jealous.

But Amy was wearing short shorts, a white strapless blouse that made every curve of her body stand out. To add to that, her hair was messy, her lips looked plumper and for some strange reason, her skin seemed healthier.

He knew this look too very well.

This was the same look the females would wear when they leave his room.

No, he wasn't jealous.

He was infuriated.

"I am guessing you are also having some fun."

As if it was venom, Shadow's words affected Amy but not the way he wanted to.

"Excuse me?" Amy said, giving Shadow one last chance to back up before she lashes out on him.

"You tell me about keeping it down while you are out there with Sonic."

"Yes, I was with him." Amy wasn't afraid, she was beginning to feel annoyed at Shadow. If he could smell Sonic's scent on her, she was capable as well of smelling the scent of different females in him. "And I don't understand why you are so angry about it."

"I am not angry that you slept with him, I don't give a shit about that," Shadow said. "But I've seen this so many times already that I know what's going to happen."

"Oh, and what exactly is going to happen?" Amy said sarcastically, her anger increased with every word that came out of Shadow's mouth.

Shadow stood a few seconds quiet, recollecting his thoughts. How could she be so calm? Didn't she know the hell she made him go threw just a few moments ago?

"You are going to go fuck other guys." He replied.

Amy felt offended by his comment but realizing that the calmer she kept, the angrier he got and that was what she wanted to see.

"And what if I do? That's none of your fucking business."

This is it, her calmness. Her stance. It looked too much like her.

This was what Shadow always wanted, to have her in front of him. Expressing the things he couldn't say.

He had forgotten, that Amy wasn't Maria.

"It's is my fucking business because I know that moment you become a whore you are going to fucking leave me!" Shadow took a deep breath, giving her the final blow. "You are going to leave me just like Maria did!"

Shadow never thought that the most painful thing he could experience was the hurt look that overtook Amy's face. Her body trembled ever so often and her eyes expressed a certain disappointment and hurt that Shadow couldn't quiet make sure what it was.

Amy wasn't angry at Shadow, on the contrary, she pities him to an extent. Maria was still in his mind, haunting every single aspect of his life and she couldn't do anything about it.

But it also hurt her. If there was one thing Amy was sure about in her life, it was that she was unable to leave Shadow.

Yes, she had to admit that she was avoiding him lately. But it pained her, oh, it just pained her so much seeing him with other girls.

Because even if it was only one night, she wished she was them. The one who could bring him comfort when he needed it. The one he could be intimate with even if it was only for his carnal needs.

And it pained her even more, that she couldn't tell him.

Shadow gave Amy one last look, he just couldn't bear to see her like that. Mostly because it was him the one who caused it.

He walked past her and left her room.

.

Rouge entered the Central Hospital as fast as she could. Omega followed closed to her and she even ran a little when she noticed Sonic sitting in the waiting room.

"What happened?" She asked, almost out of breath as she used all of her energy to come to the hospital.

"I found her in Shadow's room, on the floor. Next to her was a green bottle. I think it was alcohol," Sonic said. "But the doctors can't seem to figure out what it is."

"Wait, a green large bottle?" Rouge asked, she was thinking of the worse.

"Yes."

"I am calling Shadow," Rouge said as she pulled out her phone but Sonic stopped him.

"Don't, I am sure that Amy is here because he did something to her-"

"We need to know what is in that bottle so we can help the doctors cure Amy." Rouge added, "And Shadow is the only one who knows what's on it."

.

This time, his head felt fuzzy, he had drunk too much and even with a very beautiful girl next to him, he still felt guilty about yesterday.

Suddenly his door slammed open, revealing a very angry bat, storming towards the hedgehog.

"What the fuck are you-"

"So this is the reason why you didn't answer your cellphone?" Rouge yelled at him, "Sonic was right, you are too busy fucking to even care-"

"Wait, Sonic?"

Shadow's hookup was terrified and the hedgehog and the bat didn't protest when she grabbed her clothes and left the room quietly.

When she left, Rouge's eyes asserted to Shadow again.

Shadow was more annoyed at the fact that Sonic told Rouge about his doings because the only person who knew about this was Amy.

Meaning that Amy most have told him.

Meaning that she trusted him a lot.

Meaning that they were close friends... Intimate friends.

"I was calling you last night! Why didn't you answer?!" Rouge asked again.

"As you could see, I was busy."

"It was important! I needed to know what was in the green bottle you brought with you at the Christmas party!"

Shadow really thought he was going delusional. Was this just a strange dream? Why was Rouge asking such a random question?

"That's none of your business. Nobody should drink that but me." Shadow said as he rubbed his eyes with hands.

"I know but Amy didn't know and she drank of it."

Shadow's heart stopped for a second.

"What?"

"She drank off it, the doctors couldn't tell what it was ... we tried calling you but you wouldn't answer and she ..." Rouge's voice broke and her eyes began to water. "Shadow ... she ..."

She couldn't finish her sentence as she broke into tears. She suddenly felt firm hands around her arms, Shadow had a pleading look and she almost felt bad for faking all of this.

But the boy needed a severe punishment.

"Where is she?" He asked, his voice trembled.

"In Central Hospital-"

And with that, Shadow vanished from her sight.

.

"I need to see her!"

"Sir, you can't, you need to wait!"

"If you don't let me see her right now, I swear I-"

Shadow felt his voice crack, his desperation had no measurement. His hands tremble and once again that feeling overtook him.

His world began to turn black, he could hear every single beat of his heart and his eyesight began to fail him.

"I need to see her." Shadow said pleading to the nurse, "Please ... I need to-"

"Shadow?"

Shadow came back to himself as he heard her voice. He turned his face to where the angelic voice called him and he felt himself breath again as he saw Amy.

She was holding onto the wall, she was wearing a hospital gown and although her appearance wasn't the best; to Shadow, it was the most beautiful sight he has seen.

He almost felled as he stumbled to get to Amy, his shoes made a squeaky sound as they made contact with the clean floor.

He wanted to hug her but stopped himself on his tracks as he thought that his embrace might hurt her.

"Patient Rose, go back to your room! You shouldn't be standing!"

.

Now it was very awkward, Shadow was seating on a chair, next to Amy as she layed on her bed.

On one hand, Shadow felt incredibly stupid and he made a mental note that Rouge will definitely pay for this. On the other, he felt incredibly guilty because even if Amy wasn't in any danger anymore, she was like this because of him.

"I wanted to see if you were in your room ... the door was open and I saw the green bottle," Amy said, breaking the silence of the two. "I got curious and I took a sip of it, thinking it was vodka. I didn't know it was poison."

"It's more than just poison, that green bottle has every poison known to humunaity," said Shadow. "It's the only thing that can get me 'drunk' sort of say."

"And you drink that? Shadow, that's bad for you!"

At that moment, Shadow's heart warmed up. There it was again, that new feeling he couldn't describe.

But it made him feel good.

"I am the ultimate life form, I can't die from it." Shadow added, "But you in the other hand, I am surprised you made it."

"Rouge told Sonic about the green bottle and he was fast enough to go to the Resistance and bring it here ... the doctors were able to give me the proper medication and empty my stomach in time."

Once again, Shadow felt anger rise in him. Sonic was again saving Amy, pulling her closer to him with his actions.

But this time, he realized he needed to thank him next time he sees the blue one.

"I am sorry ..." Shadow said as he looked to the floor, embarrassed. "For everything."

"I am sorry too."

"For what?"

"For worrying you." Amy said, "And for avoiding you."

Shadow's eyes now met green eyes and he waited for her to continue.

"I am sorry, I should have been there for you. I just didn't know what to say. I was scared that I might say something wrong." Amy played with her bedsheets, out of embarrassment. "You needed affection and because of that you went to other girls instead of coming to me-"

"No, I went to those girls because I wanted to do things to them I don't want to do with you." said Shadow, "So, don't feel bad-"

"What is that supposed to mean?"

Shadow saw that Amy got offended at his comment, she was taking it the wrong way and he didn't want that.

"I am saying that I would never want to have sex with you." He said clearly.

Amy left out a grunt and and pouted, "Well, I am sorry I am that disgusting."

Shadow began to panic again, he didn't want an angry Amy. "No, that's not what I meant!"

Shadow stood up from his seat and he placed himself in front of Amy, making her look at him. "You aren't disgusting, I think you look very attractive! Even with that thin gown! I can see your-"

Shadow stopped himself as he saw Amy's flustered face, she covered her chest area in embarrassment.

Why was it that when it came to Amy, he couldn't think properly?

"What I am trying to say is that you are too innocent to for that, I couldn't-"

"Innocent? Shadow I am a grown woman, I know-"

"Yes, wait no, I mean, we could do it if you wanted to."

"You want to do it?!" Amy exclaimed as she blushed.

"I-"

Shadow gave it a thought. Amy was his friend, but he would be lying if he said that the thought of being intimate with Amy didn't cross his mind before.

But those thoughts soon left his mind when he realized that he preferred a friendship based on intimate emotions than a friendship based on carnal desires.

But the curiosity still was with him.

"Would ... would you have said yes?"

Why the hell did he ask that? What has taken over him? He was feeling angrier now, what was it with Amy Rose that she had him like this?

He felt all emotions when he was with her, sadness, anger, frustration, happiness and something else he couldn't describe yet.

Amy was freaking out mentally, was Shadow serious? Don't get her wrong, she loves that guy and she would give everything to be with him.

She wanted to be with him emotionally and physically. She couldn't deny that fact.

"If it made you feel better then ... maybe ..."

She was nervous. What if she tells him? Was this the right moment to tell him that she loves him? But if Shadow doesn't feel that way then their friendship would be ruined.

And of course, Shadow didn't feel the same. He was Shadow the Hedgehog, a successful G.U.N. agent, and world hero.

And she was only a waitress ... Oh wait no, she was less than that. She was unemployed.

"Amy you don't have to do anything ... You already make me feel happy just by being alive."

The words came out of his mouth so naturally that it even took Shadow by surprise. Their eyes crossed and Shadow got lost in her green emerald eyes. He had seen a lot of beautiful jewels before but none could ever be compared to Amy's eyes.

For a moment, he couldn't control his body as the feeling he didn't know about overtook him. He got closer to her as he held her hand softly. They kept getting closer to each other and Amy wasn't pushing away either.

Suddenly, their moment was interrupted as they heard knocking in the door.

The nurse smiled as she entered the room.

"Greeting Ms. Rose, your boyfriend is here to visit you."

"Oh, yes let him in please," Amy replied.

This took Shadow by surprise, he looked at the door, waiting to see who was the bastard who the nurses referred to as Amy's boyfriend.

And of course, it was him.

Sonic showed up, holding a boutique of flowers and as he gave them to Amy, he said said:

"I am glad you are in recovery now, babe."

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

A/N: A new arc! Intimate Friends is here! I can write a 4k600 word fic in a day but I can't write a 2000 word essay on Socrates and Machiavelli? Something must be wrong with me lol. Keep in mind this story may have a lot of mistakes, I do apologize for any grammatical errors.

Anyways, this chapter was tuned out to be completely different from what I originally thought of. This was supposed to be a 'fluff' chapter but I realized it wasn't logical. I think that after what Shadow went through, he would be depressed and he would try to cope with it somehow.

So this chapter's title is 'Recovery' because Shadow has finally started to recover from his horrible relationship with Maria.

He still feels insecure but Amy does help him feel better and I will slowly develop Shadow's feelings towards Amy as we go along.

Once again, thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Until next time :)

Next: Soon. 

[kalinara]

One of my favorite episodes of the Witcher is "Betrayer Moon”.  Not only do we get the climax of Yen’s Aretuza arc, but we also get the Striga fight.  And I think it’s pretty fascinating what the show did with it.

Disclaimer: I still haven’t read the books, so I have only the vaguest idea what the story is like there.  I did however start playing the first game, where we see the Striga battle as an introduction, and I find the contrast rather fascinating.

The big thing that stands out to me is that, in the game, the Striga fight itself doesn’t seem like a really big deal.  At no point does Geralt seem out of sorts or desperate.  If anything, it looks like he’s toying with her.  There’s a pretty great bit where he saunters into her crypt and pulls out a tiny hourglass to measure the time.  It’s a lovely moment of asshole.  It goes well, until the bite at the end.

And it makes sense for a game.  This is our glimpse of Geralt before his amnesia, it’s the teaser as to what he could be.  And I’m guessing it’s fairly similar in the books, since, IIRC, it’s the first story.

The show, obviously, is very different.  The fight is brutal.  Geralt’s chains, early on, fail, and after that, he’s fighting rough.  He’s flung about and battered and his crawl into the crypt seems as much an act of desperation as it is anything else.  No smug little hourglass moment here, Geralt is too wounded for that.

I suspect some of the reason for the change is because female fans are far more sadistic than male fans and we like watching our favorite guys suffer.  But there’s also thematic relevance too.

I’ve talked before about how the first season is structured to give Geralt a character arc: by setting Lesser Evil/The End’s Beginning first, Lauren Hissrich has given Geralt a clear emotional progression.  He starts off at a reasonably healthy place.  He’s ostracized, which he finds frustrating, but he’s also reasonably approachable.  He’s verbal, communicating pretty openly with Renfri and Marilka and Stregobor.  The events of the story break him, and the rest of the season shows us Geralt getting back.

One step in that direction is meeting Jaskier, but Jaskier himself isn’t enough to fix Geralt.  And there are also some issues within that relationship that are worth its own meta.  To put it briefly: I think that the claims that Jaskier is the one person to take Geralt’s emotional issues and wellbeing into account are nonsense, because he actually doesn’t.  That said, I think Jaskier’s steamrolling actually represents something Geralt needs at this time: he’s not letting Geralt hide in a corner and lick his wounds.  He’s forcing him out of the shadows and into human interaction again.

There’s an interesting cross-element of reputation in this episode.  Jaskier’s work is bearing fruit: the sex worker (who lives!  And gets paid!) has heard of Geralt, she recognizes his scars (...and really, I can’t imagine Geralt reacting very well to songs that talk about him that intimately, but again, meta for another day), and as we see in the Banquet episode and Bottled Appetities, the “White Wolf” is overtaking “the Butcher of Blaviken” in public opinion.

In Temeria though, Witcher is still a bad name, because of that poor fellow who “ran away with their coin”.  Because Triss and Foltest would rather trash some poor guy’s reputation than be honest with the people about the threat they face.  Their reasons are sympathetic, but it’s not surprising that Geralt is so pissy at the end of the episode.  The man who caused the curse is remembered as a hero, Geralt’s own role is buried, and the other Witcher, who gave his life for the miners, is a scorned deserter.

But back to the Striga.  Thanks to Renfri, the Striga suddenly takes on more emotional weight.  She’s not a monster.  She’s a girl, a princess, made into a monster because of the actions of the adults around her.  She’s fourteen years old: a child.  Like Renfri likely was when she was attacked and raped by Stregobor’s man.  Like Marilka, who befriended then rejected him.  Like Ciri will be.  And this time he can save her.  And he does SUFFER to save her.

Ostrit, like Stregobor, is a man who presents himself as the lesser evil.  His curse of Adda was Foltest’s fault, because HE made Adda love him.  Ostrit had to curse Adda, because he didn’t want to damage her reputation.  Because he’d rather see her dead than see her in disgrace.  Renfri was a puzzle to Stregobor, rather than a person.  Adda was a trophy to Ostrit, in the same way.

Saving the princess is not an emotional fix it for Geralt.  It can’t be.  He’s saved her by bringing her back, but he couldn’t save her from fourteen years as a monster.  Whatever she is now, whether or not she’ll recover, that’s out of his hands.  Renfri lived under the label of monster for years, until she became one in fact.  Was he too late to save this princess?  But it’s something.  He was able to do something that he couldn’t do for Renfri.

(There’s also a lovely parallel between the Striga and the victim in Geralt’s story of his first bit of heroism.  He saves the girl, but she’s terrified of him.  The girl in the story faints.  The ex-Striga attacks.  Because Geralt forgets sometimes that to a young, traumatized girl, he is scary.  I think because ultimately, deep down, he identifies far more with these girls than he does anyone else.)

As mentioned, the ending is interesting.  Ostrit, like Stregobor, gets remembered as the hero, when they’re bigger monsters than the girls they’ve made suffer.  The Witchers take another hit to their reputation.  Triss, often presented as the nicer alternative to Yennefer in the games (which is rather fascinating in its own right), seems very happy with this arrangement, though admittedly, she’s willing to give Geralt some credit while talking with Yennefer later.  Geralt is less happy, but what can he really do?  At least the princess has a chance to recover.

The Striga story is not a fix-it, but it is a step in the right direction, and I think it does play heavily in both Geralt’s initial rejection of the child surprise and then his acceptance of her.  

Also it’s fun watching Henry Cavill suffer. He’s very pretty at it.

[just--clownin-around]

My Hero

Request: Hi Would you do a Joker x Reader like : it was late night in Gotham and the reader was walking alone when 3 men started to harass her and punch her till,while she's on the floor all hurt and In pain,someone came and shoot the 3 men,then take her senseless to his "home" to take care of her?(it's the joker obv) Then idk,like,when she wakes up she's scared but then only thankfull and turned on by him and things happens?And this is becoming smuth but well 😂 Sorry and thank you if you do it

Warnings: Violence, oral (female receiving), drunk jerks being drunk jerks, cursing, harassment

A/N: It’s not as good as I’d hoped it be, but I really hope you like it!

You had lived in Gotham your whole life, and had worked at your current job for a few years now. You had walked home from work countless times, and tonight was no different. Sure, Gotham wasn’t necessarily the safest of all cities, but having lived there your whole life, you had perfected your “Don’t fuck with me” vibe from a relatively young age. And, considering how often you’ve made this walk, it has always proven to be uneventful. You didn’t tend to worry about it.

This would prove to lead to a downfall for you tonight. You passed some men, clearly older than you, but still young men by all means. They were noticeably drunk, and were all wearing suits. You scoffed inwardly. Of course it was the rich drunk in the street, the law didn’t seem to apply to them. Your thoughts were just about to drift to something else when you heard a wolf whistle. You looked up, looking around you before it occurred to you to look at them in an attempt to find out who that was directed at. Upon finding the street empty aside from yourself and those drunken bastards, you felt your stomach twist around itself and drop to your feet. “What?” You snap back, trying your hardest to keep your solid exterior despite the nerves that were welling inside you. “Looks like we got a feisty one on our hands tonight. How about you show us how feisty you can really be, sweet thing?” He slurred, getting to close for comfort. He was close enough that you could smell the liquor on his breath, and between his words and his breath on your face, he had gone too far. “Fuck off!” You yell, giving the hardest shove you could muster. The smirks they had been sporting seemed to fall off their faces in sync, and fear started to overtake you. You turned on your heel, about to make a run for it when you were pulled back by the hood of your jacket. Whichever one had grabbed you didn’t bother to catch you before you hit the ground, and the cement hitting your back sent shockwaves of pain through your entire body. You arched in pain, twisting on the ground before these men who were planning god only knows what. All at once, they started kicking you. You yelled the best you could manage, hoping there was somebody, anybody around who could help you. A sharp blow to the abdomen knocked the wind out of you, forcing your cries to fall silent. The pain was unbearable and didn’t seem to have an end in sight. You prayed they wouldn’t hit your head or rupture any organs, but at this point, you were defenseless against them. 

Out of nowhere, you hear a sound louder than any you’ve heard before ring out. There were three loud bangs in rapid succession, and as soon as you heard them, the kicking stopped, and immediately you heard the sound of three bodies hitting the pavement. Anyone who’s lived in Gotham their whole life could tell you what just happened without looking up, you were sure anyone in general could, and you were no exception. You knew those guys were dead. You didn’t look up. Partly because you couldn’t, but you’d also be lying if you said you didn’t feel equal parts fear and gratitude.  Yes, whoever fired those gunshots had saved you, but why? Nobody in Gotham gave a shit about anyone else. This was definitely a mind-your-own-business type city. You couldn’t help but fear that you were only saved by this mystery person so that they could have at you instead. God knows that you were vulnerable enough for them to do whatever they pleased right now anyway, you could hardly move. You heard the footsteps of someone you were hoping was your savior and not another person with dark intentions. They were walking agonizingly slowly. Shock gripped your already shaken body when you found yourself staring at a pair of brown oxfords and red slacks that had been plastered all over Gotham for the past few months. The Joker had just killed those three men who were harassing you. 

Surprisingly gently, you were pulled up into a sitting position. You tried to look up at him, coughing as a single word left your mouth before you could catch it. “Why?” you asked, sending a sharp pain through your chest and stomach. He laughed that unmistakable laugh as he held his hand out to you. “I’ve been there,” He says, his voice sounding almost normal. It baffled you how this man, a man known for his insanity, who had just killed three men in front of you, could sound so normal. His voice returned to what you assumed it typically was, an arrogant timbre lacing his words as he began to speak again. “Let’s get you somewhere nicer.”

Before you faded out of consciousness, you aware of being lifted off your feet, but nothing after that. You awoke now to the heavy smell of cigarettes and an unfamiliar room. You were lying on a bed, the sound of music coming loudly from the other room filling your ears. Your body is gripped with panic when you realize that you are in a stranger’s apartment, memories of what happened before you blacked out flooding your mind at rapid-fire. The men, being beaten, the gunshots, The Joker. That’s when it occurred to you where you were. This had to be the Joker’s apartment, that was the only plausible explanation. Once again you found yourself considering that the act of him saving you did not automatically mean he had good intentions. 

You felt sick with fear. Trembling as you sat up. Ever so slowly, you turned your legs so that they were hanging off the bed. You slid off, slowly still, taking steps as silently as possible. When you reached the door, you peeked into the other room to see the Joker with his shirt off, dancing to the music coming from a small radio. He still had his makeup on, mysterious as ever, but you could see his bare chest and arms as he danced. And, to your own surprise, found yourself oddly enthralled. You could tell that he had spent a large part of his life lacking proper nutrition, but looked healthier than what you assumed he used to be. You also noticed that his dancing was odd, definitely all his own. This wasn’t the type of dancing that was learned from mimicking professional dancers or observing other people, this was the kind of dancing that came purely from within, the kind that involved moving in any way that you felt the urge to move. You knew you should be terrified, horrified by this man. He had killed countless people, started a city-wide uproar that killed countless more, and had technically kidnapped you. But instead of being scared and repulsed, as you should feel, you were captivated. You were so busy watching the movement of his body— the gyrating of his hips —that you didn’t notice that he could see you, and was now looking straight at you as he danced. You realized in this moment that if he really wanted to hurt you, he could have. You could have woken up chained to the bed, or worse. He could have done anything he wanted while you slept. But instead, he stood in his living room and danced. The Joker had saved your life simply because he wanted to. 

You were ripped out of our thoughts by his voice, jumping as he chuckled at you. “Like what you see?” He asked, a wide smirk on his face. “Oh- Uhm-” You struggled to find a response, and ultimately failed, unable to do anything but state at him. He sauntered towards you, his long legs carrying him quickly across the room despite the slow pace he was walking at. It was only a moment before he was standing in front of you, the same smirk still written on his face as he gazed down at you. His eyes were beautiful, a stunning shade of green that you had never seen before. Honestly, you didn’t spend much time looking people in the eye. You found yourself getting lost in him for the second time in only a few minutes. 

“Feeling any better?” He asked with the same cocky manner about him that he had before you passed out. “Uhm- A little bit.” You managed. “Oh?” He asked, his eyes trailing down to your arms, which were covered in bruises and lacerations. “Now that you’re awake, I think maybe I should take a look at you. Taking a beating like that can do some damage.” He says, and something about the way he says it gives you the feeling that he knows that firsthand. His tone is not as demanding as you’d expect. It holds a certain flirtiness to it, but not a hint of pushiness. You feel that you’d be free to say no if you really wanted to, but you don’t want to. You find yourself completely open to his ideas and advances, giving him a quick nod. A grin spread across his face as he walked past you into his room. “You’ll want to sit down for this,” He suggests, sitting on his bed. Your feet carry you swiftly to his bed, your mind seemingly going into autopilot. Once you’re seated comfortably in front of him, his hand moves to the edge of your shirt, pulling it up to expose your ribs. You are cognizant of the hint of your bra that is showing, and a shiver runs down your spine as you notice he looked at your bra before he looked at your bruises. 

He moves his other hand to touch your ribs, checking to see just how bad your condition was. You flinched, but didn’t cry out as loudly as he had anticipated, which was a good sign in his eyes. He figured it was about the same level of ain he had been in the day those kids had taken his sign months ago. A bit worse for te wear, but ultimately you’d be okay. His hands moved forward, trailing his fingers over your stomach. Your senses are heightened, and you find yourself leaning into his touch, craving the feeling of his hands. He chuckles, moving his hand up, testing his limits. You push yourself into his hand and give a small whine. “Please,” you whisper, low enough that he wasn’t sure he heard you. He didn’t need to, though. The look on your face told him all that he needed to know. His hand moved up, over your bra, as the other moved to your waist. He gave a light squeeze before lifting your shirt over your head, gazing down at you with hunger in his eyes. He leaned in, letting you decide if you wanted to kiss him or not. Of course you did, your body was aching for him, how could you not? You pressed your lips to his, desperate for his kiss. His hands left their position, and one moved to cup your face while the other trailed downwards. You felt his fingers rub you outside of your paints, and you melted into the kiss. He gently pushes you back onto the bed, not yet breaking the kiss. He starts to undo the fastening on your pants, and only pulls away to pull your pants down your legs. You raise your hips, making the job easier for him. He then moves onto your underwear, which are soaked at this point. He smirks up at you as he slowly pulls them down your legs. This man a man that takes his time, and you’ve noticed that many times since you met him the day before. In his walk, in his talk, even in bed he is a man that does things at his own pace. 

He leaned into you, taking you in. You arched your back and writhed, desperate for some kind of contact. He grabbed your hips, gently holding you in place as he finally licked a slow strip up your folds, letting out a small groan as he did so. Suddenly, he went down on you with the vigor of a man starved. He latched onto your clit, sucking hard as you arched your back and screamed for him. He pushed two fingers inside you, fucking you roughly. Just as you were desperate to cum, he was desperate to taste it. He curled his fingers against your g-spot, triggering an earth-shattering orgasm. You arched and clenched around his fingers, but it seemed as though he wasn’t done. His fingers kept moving, roughly pushing into at a rapid pace. He wasn’t taking his time anymore, he was moving quickly, pulling orgasm after orgasm out of you. It was almost too much, but you loved it. You laced your fingers through his hair, holding him against you. Once he had decided he’d made you cum enough, he pulled his fingers out and leaned back, leaving you a twitching mess on the bed. “How are you feeling now?” He teased, standing up. You could hardly manage a response, exhausted out of your mind. He laughed once more and pulled the blanket over your naked and exhausted body. You’d need rest after all of that.  

[jenovahh]

Chase - Part 1

Pairing: Zenos/WoL

Rating: Explicit/NC-17

[AO3 Link]

Self Indulgence to it’s fullest. Miqo’te WoL, Female WoL. Enjoy.

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Zenos was a man of action.

If there was something he wanted, there was practically nothing one could do to stop him.

After all, he himself said he was a hunter; still calling you his precious beast even as he walked the land of Eorzea as a wanted criminal, or an anti-hero if one looked at it a different way. He had denounced Garlemald entirely. His crown, his land. All so that he did not have to give a second thought to heeding the wishes of others.

Free, to embrace the hunt.

At first, the great three nations were all terrified of what this could mean. Would he terrorize innocent citizens? Cause dissent and disruption? He was a menace walking amongst them, yet none of the three had a soldier who held a candle to his might.

Which left you, the Warrior of Light, tasked with stopping Zenos whenever he dared show his face.

He did not skulk around like many thought he would. After all, you knew when he was near. When he did finally step from the shadows, that familiar smirk pulling at pale lips, you knew what he wanted.

A fight.

No words had to be said as you dueled, be it with only your fists, or him deflecting your magic. You would both fight and tussle until one was too bloodied and bruised to continue, which had ended up being him in his first view visits. A prodigy such as himself would not stay behind for long, the wind knocked out of you as he pinned you to the ground with his body. Your body shuddered not just from the force of your fall, but the heat of his against your own. “Careful, Warrior. I’ll overtake you soon enough.”

You’re frozen like a deer beneath him, his teeth gleaming as he celebrates his hard earned victory. “Will you kill me now?” You ask, voice but a whisper, swallowing thickly as his face nears your own. His hair falls in a curtain around the two of you, shielding you both from the outside world, trapping you in his own. 

“I believe friends aren’t in the habit of killing each other?” He purrs, his eyes roaming across your features. He seems strangely pleased, your squirming beneath him seems to only make him press against you harder. “I thought I was your enemy as well.” Your voice is shaking, though not from fear. You didn’t fear him before, and you didn’t fear him now.

“How fortunate am I to have a friend such as you, and look so...delectable as well.” Your face heats as a gloved hand tipped with metal runs between the valley of your breasts, his eyes following the motion until they jump back to meet your eyes. “I have enjoyed tracking you down.” His voice is like silk, sliding over your skin much as his fingers move to twine in the threads of your hair. “Since I cannot very well kill you, clean you, hang you as a trophy...” Your eyes widen as he catches your chin between his fingers. “I shall take my prize, another way.”

His lips are soft, though you’re not sure why you expected them to be anything else. From his first bite of your bottom lip, you could tell that a simple touching of lips would not be enough, your mouth opening for him to plunder as he saw fit. The sigh that left you as you surrendered to his kiss did not escape his notice, feeling him smirk as his tongue danced with your own. You could feel yourself getting lightheaded, though was it from his kiss or the lack of air, you could not tell.

Pulling away, he licks his lips as if to commit the taste of you to memory, smirking all the while. “That was satisfactory. For now.” Content, he stands and leaves you on the forest floor, staring into the canopy in a daze.

It embarrasses you, how easily you gave into him, the realization that perhaps you wanted him as a little more than just a friend not shaking you as much as you wanted it to. The feel of his eyes upon you when he lurked called to dormant instincts, setting your tail to twitching and your ears swiveling to catch the sound of his first step toward you.

At night, you would dream of him taking you, of your battles ending not in the two of you beaten and bruised, but sweating and tired from entirely different activities. The times he had revealed himself to duel left you wanting, unable to take your eyes off his muscled form even as it twirled and twisted to strike you down. To say he did not notice was an understatement; you would think he moved the way he did for your benefit.

The two of you were no longer dancing on the edge of the proverbial knife; that blade of life and death. Instead it was a dance of enticement. His sultry, blue eyes ensnaring yours, filled with barely restrained hunger, the curl of his lips as you swore he could hear how loudly your heart beat in your chest when he looked upon your sweat covered brow. Nothing would stop his chase or slake his thirst for you, your blood, the sweet nectar between your thighs except for your complete and utter submission. Knowing this, you took off, traipsing across Eorzea in hopes of throwing him off your trail.

You felt in a daze as the break between each encounter became smaller and smaller, until you felt as if you were being hunted. You thought yourself safe in towns, but even that seemed to be out of the question, the men and women giving you looks that, while they could not compare to his, they were no less hungry. It was strange, considering that even for your status, you were mostly ignored, able to go through towns in relative peace. Towns were safe because he seemed to find dealing with citizens far too bothersome. Surely, that would be enough to stop him right?

When you meet his eyes across the way, you’re given your answer, high tailing it out of the town as fast as you can. Your lungs burn, for even as active as you are, you’ve never been one with much endurance. It doesn’t stop you from trying to put as much distance between the two of you as possible, your footfalls silent as you flee into the forest. A giggle bursts forth, unbidden and seemingly from nowhere as pure joy courses through you. To have the inner wish you had denied for so long be fulfilled.

The thrill of the chase.

It terrified your rational mind, buzzing to put the pieces together as you skid to a stop. Zenos stands before you, not bothering to hide the desire in his gaze, though he also seems less...controlled. 

“One would think you want me to hunt you down, my beast.” He calls, his voice carrying easily in the still night. He has long since abandoned his clunky Garlean armor, choosing instead lighter fare that still spoke of his former royal lineage, but suited his nomadic lifestyle. “I quite enjoy our battles recently, don’t you? It’s nice, to be able to find you at my leisure for our duels. Though I must say, I have found it...difficult to resist your call, as of late.” He rumbles, smiling as if amused at his own personal joke.

“My call?” You repeat, ears flattening against your head. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Come now, don’t play coy. Even I can see the signs.” He chuckles, watching as your head tilts in pure confusion. “So caught up in running from what you want, that you cannot even see the signs yourself...you are truly something, Warrior of Light.” His smile broadens further, teeth glinting in the moonlight and immediately your instincts set you on edge.

“What’re you talking about?” You demand, baring your fangs in displeasure. How dare he speak as if he knows what’s going on through your head! “Who says you’re what I want?”

He tuts, undeterred by your abrasiveness. “Lying is unbecoming of you, Warrior. But since you are caught in a bit of a tizzy, fear not; I shall enlighten you.” He rolls his neck, releasing a sigh as he stretches. “It is unlike you to run from me hero. After all, it is I who’ve always come to find you, no matter where you are.” He begins to remove heavier parts of his ensemble with a few snaps of buttons and latches. “However, you have remained on the move, hoping to keep distance between the two of us.”

His stare pins you in place, and for the first time you feel caught.

“I did not think much of it, until you started releasing the most...peculiar scent.”

If it were possible for you to become any more still than you were, you would have in that very moment.

His smile is a full on feral grin, saying everything and nothing at once. “You had run into town, thinking I would not follow. But even you had to run back out, feeling the eyes of so many on you, feel their hungry stares. You have run across Eorzea, trying to keep as much distance between us possible, knowing I would follow. I have mentioned you are releasing a peculiar scent. Surely now, you must know what I’m getting at...?” 

You were in heat.

You were in heat, and Zenos knew it.

You were in heat, Zenos knew, and was apparently affected by it.

Growling, you kept your fangs bared, even as your face grew hot at the accusation. “And what if I am?” you snarl, which only seems to provoke him more, rather than scare him away.

He lets loose a rich laugh, loud in the quiet of the wood. “Why I offer you assistance Warrior! Far be it from me to not fulfill your desires...and my own.” The admission shakes you more than it should. You had your suspicions of course, but for him to come out and admit it so openly and without shame, it made you feel...

Wild.

“You think I’d just let you have me?” You ask, your feet digging into the ground below you, legs spreading to take off at the first sign of a muscle in his leg twitching.

“You have to ask?” He replies, rolling his shoulders casually. He looks confident. His smirk stings your pride as much as it is sexy, as if he is already sure of the outcome. Already sure of his victory. “If it is a chase you want, it is a chase you shall have, Warrior of Light. I’ll even give you a head start.” His hand moves to splay across his chest. “Will five minutes be enough for you? Though it could be ten, or twenty...” His hand moves further down his body, your eyes following until you flush red as he grips the outline of his length, rock hard in his pants. “It would not matter. I will catch you.” He whispers harshly, giving himself a firm squeeze.

“Ten minutes.” You manage to get out, using all your willpower to meet his eyes once again. “Don’t sound so cocky--” you wince at your choice of words, “confident, Zenos. I won’t just let you have me.” You hiss, tail thrashing angrily behind you.

“Oh, Warrior...” he croons, crossing his arms across his chest. “I’m counting on it.”

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