#maybe i’m stupid but what is the harm in keeping it ??? like r they losing something by having it on disney+

[litrallytyrus]

doafp getting removed from disney+ i feel like throwing up ………. how can they do that ………. cancelling it was one thing but full on removing it from their platform ??????????????? like that is just disrespectful 😐

[thran-duils]

Lost in Your Current (P.2)

Title: Lost In Your Current (Part Two) Summary: Fem!Reader x Dark!Tony Stark. After the snap, the team realizes that certain males were given Alpha status and certain females were assigned as Omegas, all across the galaxy, as a way to control procreation. Only Omega can give birth now. Both are marked and their DNA is tied through their marks. Tony lost Pepper and fell into depression after being rescued by Carol. Even the information that he could have happiness again could not pull him out. Until the loneliness and his new Alpha gene got to be too much. When Steve contacts him that his Omega had been found, Tony cannot resist to collect her. Words: 3,044 Warnings (for the whole fic): Dub-con, a/b/o elements, smut, forced mating, 18+ as always For this chapter specifically: FORCED. MATING.

Part One || Part Three || Masterpost (mobile) || Fanfic masterpost

“He’s probably gotten cabin fever and the opportunity for bonding drove him to this,” Carol said, trying to be diplomatic.

“It is alpha arrogance is I what it is! I thought they – Steve and Tony and every other man I worked with that have been afflicted – were insufferable before. This just makes it all that much worse! Thinking they know what’s best and the fucking obnoxious over confidence!” Natasha spat.

Her and everyone else had woken up hours after Tony had left with Y/N. She had immediately gone to the security recordings and saw Tony entering Y/N’s room, cornering her, and knocking her out. As she fell, he activated his suit, holding her up until he could pick her up when the suit was done building around him. He used the suit to blow a hole through the wall with one of his repulsors and left the building that way, cradling Y/N. ‘He couldn’t have used a goddamn door like a normal person?’ Natasha had spat when she saw that.

She turned away from the security recordings and took a deep breath.

“Maybe it’ll be fine. Y/N was on her way to weaning off,” Carol pointed out. “Not the most chivalrous ways to go about collecting her but when she wakes up, she may be comforted by Tony’s presence. That’s the way with Omegas isn’t it? Just having him nearby will calm her.”

Natasha shook her head and pierced Carol with a stony look. Carol closed her mouth, seeing that.

Natasha started firmly, “He should have listened to me! What is more likely to happen is that he’s going to fall into a rut and then he’s going to lose control. Which means he is going to hurt her if she struggles which she is likely to do considering she is not in heat! Or off her suppressants completely in the first place, so even if she’s drawn in by him, it’s not going to be the same as if she was presented to him clear and clean. It’s not going to be good!”

“It worked out with Steve’s omega.”

“Steve locked her away – just like Tony is going to do – and I’m sure the coupling was not gentle. I saw the ghosts of bruises on her cheek and shoulder!”

“Oh…”

Carol had not gone with Natasha to check up on them and Natasha had refrained from divulging those details before.

“Should we go up to his place?” Carol asked quietly. “Get her back?”

Natasha sighed, leaning against the desk, her eyes fixated on the replay of Tony taking Y/N, seriously considering it.

Finally, she admitted, “No. That’ll just make it worse.” She slammed her hand on the desk and stood up straight. “That stupid son of a bitch! The only good thing is that we know she’s going to be safe up there in general with him because he won’t let harm come to her.”

<><><>

You woke in a luxurious bed, stretching out. Your face rubbed against the silk pillowcases, and you sighed in contentment. You sat up immediately realizing you were in a room you did not recognize. Eyes darting, you took in the wall of windows, spotting the tall trees outside and evening fog. And the large flat screen television mounted on the wall across from the bed. It was a room of wood, you realizing you were in a cabin.

The room seemed familiar though.

More accurately…. The scent was familiar. It was all over the bed.

You looked down, pulling the covers completely back, finding yourself in a t shirt and boxers. That was not what you had been wearing. You had been wearing a hospital gown…

The hospital.

It came back to you.

Not a hospital, a facility. Government secret. Natasha Romanoff, along with SHIELD, had had you under surveillance as you came off your suppressants. And then… Tony.

Your eyes looked around the room again, nervous energy thrumming beneath your skin. Where was Tony? And more importantly, where were you?

Slowly pushing the blankets back, you swung your legs over the side of the bed and your feet hit the sheepskin rug running along the side of the bed. You nestled your toes into the softness as you pushed yourself up.

A thought came to you suddenly and your hand slapped up to your neck. No. It had not been penetrated, your mating spot. You thought again of how you were in different clothes and what strength that must have taken him to dress you without taking you. Yet, you could scent him on your skin. He had not resisted touching you.

You stepped off the rug and the hardwood creaked. You grimaced but what did you expect? You took more steps towards the windows, looking down out over the yard. Dusk would fall soon. There was a vast lake, partially hidden by large trees further out. Some deer were grazing in the yard. There was no one in sight and that set you further on edge. You did not want to be alone.

Pulling away from the window, you turned to go towards the bedroom door.

Halfway down the staircase, you saw Tony sitting at the table. And he was already looking up at you, eyes piercing. You stopped on a dime, straightening up, hand gripping the iron railing. He was waiting and you took the bait.

“Where are we?”

“Our cabin.”

“‘Our’ cabin?”

Tony did not miss the resistance in your voice. He closed the hologram he was working on, fully focusing on you. “Yes. Ours… now.”

You scanned the rest of the ground floor, what you could see of it. It truly was just the two of you. You descended the rest of the stairs, keeping a wary eye out. Tony could sense your unease.

He gestured at the seat beside him. “Here. I’ll get you something to eat. Sit.”

You slowly sunk into the chair watching him as he got up and went towards the fridge. He was tense, you could see that in his shoulders. Both of you were on edge, waiting for the other shoe to drop. But the tenseness in him… that was setting the hair on your arms on end. He was worked up… too worked up.

Still, you sat still, not wanting to antagonize him any further.

He brought back a plate with hardboiled eggs and fruit, placing it in front of you. He must have peeled the eggs beforehand in anticipation of feeding you.

“Thank you,” you said gently, pulling the plate towards you.

Tony’s hand reached out, brushing yours, tracing up. And you froze. He merely inhaled deeply as his hand fell away. He had scented you again.

Oh. He was most certainly worked up about you. You knew your cycle was due, the worst time for you to be coming off of your suppressants. And he had put you in his bed, scented your skin with his sheets and his own hands to mark you as his. A warning if there happened to be any Alphas around, which you doubted. But he was possessive. You were destined to be his after all.

“Toast?” he asked.

You gave a curt nod. He set to make that for you, and you kept your eyes on his back as you bit into the egg.

<><><>

He fell asleep later in the evening and you pulled yourself off the couch. He had insisted you sat close as the two of you watched a movie. He was trying to court you, something unnatural for him you assumed having known his reputation throughout the years. He was a celebrity, how could you not know?

He did not stir, and your eyes went to the door.

<><><>

Moments after the screen door closed, FRIDAY piped up on Tony’s watch, startling him awake.

“Sir, your guest utilized the front door.”

Tony turned towards the door, shaking his grogginess. Y/N was indeed not in the cabin, and he got up from the couch quickly, moving towards the door. Rage was quickly overtaking as he thought of her trying to leave him.

<><><>

You were bolting towards the dock and came to a stop at the end of it. It was vast. And you could not spot any other houses along the lake from here. You had no hope of escaping this remote place without his help. He held the keys to the boat in the boat house and to his car.

You were truly stuck here.

“Y/N!” you heard his voice bellow across the yard.

Whipping around, you saw him quickly closing the distance.

Your heart started to hammer, realizing what you had probably done to him. You had come out to check your surroundings without him watching over your shoulder. But by sneaking off, you had certainly flamed his Alpha, causing him to fly into a rut at your absence. Even further than it had been before. You had been warned about this in the underground; it was dangerous to do this, especially to your Alpha you had been destined with.

Without much thought, you dove off the dock and swam to try to hide yourself in the brush along the lake. Hoping pathetically that the scent of the water would do some to hide you from him until you could find a clear path back inside and lock the door until he calmed down.

Your lungs were bursting but you did not surface again until you were beneath the branches overreaching the lake to the right of the dock. You did your best to keep quiet. You heard him calling your name angrily, his pacing on the dock. He could not tell which direction you had swam to, the right or to the left to the boat house.

Through the branches, you clung to one, watching him as you floated.

He looked furious, territorial. His eyes were searching for the lake and in the succumbing darkness, you knew it was harder for him to see if you had surfaced anywhere.

Stupid.

You should have waited longer to go wandering.

But if you had waited longer, you may have also been mated. You had been stuck between a rock and a hard place.

Tony started storming back up the dock towards land and went to the left towards the boat house. When he disappeared inside, you crawled out of the lake, your bare feet sinking into the mud as you made your way back through the shrubbery and back into the yard.

You gasped when you set off a motion sensor light and your head whipped towards where the boathouse was. It was only a split second before he emerged again, eyes directly at you.

“Y/N!” he called out threateningly as he took off towards you, his tone woven with his Alpha tone.

It was powerful. You felt your knees go weak upon hearing it. He must have studied up, practiced. Tony Stark was not a stupid man by any means, and he had no doubt been given intel about how the Alpha and Omega connections worked. Or maybe he was just a natural.

Regardless, you fought against your jelly legs as he was gaining on you. He was getting close and you swore at yourself loudly in your head, tearing away from the spot as you gained control again. He let out a roar of frustration as you sprinted away from him.

You tried to run back inside. You flew up the stairs, breath short. You felt his hand at your back, grabbing hold of the fabric. You stumbled as he yanked, and it slowed your movement. With a rough tug, you lurched forward though, and your hand was on the screen door, throwing it open. You did not care to try to close it as you came into the cabin, hand landing on the edge of the door. You went to slam it closed.

Tony was too quick though, barreling straight into it, coming in through the still wide-open screen door.

You were sent spiraling onto your backside with his force. Tony was on you in the blink of an eye, pawing. His knees were on the outsides of your thighs, holding you down to the ground.

“Y/N! Stop it!” he demanded, his hands gripping your wrists painfully to stop your thrashing.

Panting, you stared up at him, stilling your movement. His chest was rising and falling rapidly, eyes blown wide from lust. At the sight of you still, a possible sign of acceptance, he ground his hips slightly as he tested your temperament out. He was so close. And he smelled so good and was holding you so tightly. It was what he was supposed to do and what you were supposed to do was obey him. He wanted to mate.

Supposed to.

You took the opportunity that he was distracted to yank a hand towards you, and you bit his hand roughly.

He shouted angrily, letting go, pulling back. It gave you the momentum to toss him off of you and you scrambled away from him. You almost lost your footing on the hardwood, but you regained it quickly. Another Alpha roar tore from his throat, sending a wave of dismay through you that your Alpha was upset and upset with you specifically. You were panicking as you heard him following you. Circling the stairs, you went to go up them. You could lock yourself in the bedroom. The door was heavy and that could hold him until he calmed down enough.

Tony’s hand closed in on your calf as you took to the stairs, and he yanked you back. You collided with the stairs painfully on your stomach and elbows, the air forced from your lungs on the impact, and he was holding you there suspended on the bottom of the stairs.

“Making me hurt you,” he snarled as he struggled with you. “Why can’t you just be good like you’re supposed to?”

“Alpha!” you begged pathetically.

That only drove him more insane. Tony groaned, tearing your boxers down your thighs, and yanking them off from around your feet.

You tried to scramble away again, a hand slapping on the next stair up, but he barked, “Omega!”

That caused you to freeze, your hormones overwhelming you. It was so hard; your soon-to-be mated brain was clashing with you. You were in pain, fighting him. Not just physically but mentally. Your body wanted to give in so badly; you were already wet. But your sensible side was pleading with you to fight back.

Tony’s fingers were in your pussy and your sensible side was quickly becoming overshadowed. Alpha was holding you tightly, working you up, prepping you like he should. Just so he could take care of you. You were safe in his embrace. You felt his hard cock pressing at your thighs.

No no no no. You were pulling away again. Or tried to.

Tony hiked your hips up and he drove himself home. You squirmed, trying to get away from his grip, to pull away so his cock was not in you. Tony responded angrily. He fought you, pinning you tighter against the stairs with his weight.

“You want this Omega, you need this,” he breathed shakily, his cock pulling slowly in and out. You were becoming more wet, giving him lubrication. It felt like you were adjusting specifically for him, his cock fitting perfectly inside you, no matter how deep he went. Your body was betraying you, responding to him and not yourself. And he was taking advantage of it to the fullest. He groaned as he buried himself again to the hilt this time. “So tight, Omega. You’re mine. All mine. Always going to be mine.”

The sound of your slick and his pelvis bouncing off of your ass filled the space.

Yes. Yes. You arched your back and it allowed him to drive deeper, drawing a groan of approval from him. You melted underneath the sound of it.

His. You were Alpha’s. You were sinking beneath the fog that had threatened to overtake you. You were desperate to please him. Your fingers spread out on the stairs as you relaxed ever so slightly, letting him drive easier up into you even further.

Alpha was happy with that.

“What did I say? See? You want it. So badly. Mine. Mine,” Alpha was giving broken husks of praise as he drove himself into you. “Perfect for me.”

It felt so good, you were drowning in his scent.

You pressed back onto him for more, but he took that as a threat and he let out a low, rumbling growl. You stopped the pressure, whimpering in submission.

Alpha was not having it though, his hand holding tighter. You felt the tightness in your core and you were quickly becoming breathless as you felt the oncoming wave.

<><><>

Tony’s hold on her neck was going to bruise, he sensed that even above his Alpha rut. But he simply did not care. She had fought back, tried to run, disobeyed him above everything else. She was never going to do that again. He was going to make sure of that.

His teeth dug into her mark, and she cried out. She tasted as sweet as she smelled to him. His cock brushed her sweet spot and she whined. It was a siren song and he fell under the wave of it.

She went lax, whimpering. He practically purred at the physical submission.

Finally.

“So good, Omega. Taking me so well,” Tony praised against her neck, much to her pleasure. She loved praise, that much he had discerned. He kissed roughly as he worked her up. Her breath was becoming short, and he knew she was close. He was so eager to fill her up.

He moved quicker feeling her so close now that he had bit. And she fell quickly, quivering around him, crying out in release. The tightness was too much. His cock was thickening, and he moaned.

“Gonna breed you, Omega. You’re going to be so beautiful, round with my child,” Tony husked against her neck. She whined needily and he let go, fully seated inside her, coating her walls. His groan was loud and long.

~~~

Marvel tags: @coconutqueen21 @undecidedsworld @holl2712 @agustdowney  @biiskuitx @buttercupfangirl

[a-valorant-effort]

can u do enemies to lovers w yoru 🥺 like maybe their rlly good partners in valorant but their both too stubborn 2 admit they like eachother n all the other agents r like 😉😏😏 tysm!!!!!!

*sees enemies to lovers request*

Cass:

Keep it Together

Yoru x GN!Reader

I got carried away with this one oop-

“Would you get out of the way? I can’t even see through the scope.”

“I’m in the rift, Y/N.”

“Oh, my bad. You’re big blue ego must have leaked back into this dimension, you’ll be spotted quick.”

It’s like this. Everyday. Back and forth. Left and right. Yin and Yang. Y/N and Yoru haven’t gotten along since the day they showed up. Yoru, a flashy radiant with the power to travel through dimensions and become invisible to the enemy team, was a force to be reckoned with when it came to being a ground fighter. Y/N, was the opposite. Powerless, dull, armed with nothing but their quick wit and lethal aim. It was in this clause where they differed so heavily. No one really knows why they do it. Jealousy? Intimidation? Or simply pure hatred? One claiming to be better than the other, competing for kills on deadly missions and high stakes infiltrations. Y/N, the eyes in the sky, while Yoru lie low.

“Both of you, stop bickering. Your target is in there, kill him, then get out.” Brimstone sounded tired over the communicator, more so than usual.

Through a stroke of chance, Yoru was able to sneak past the guards and saw their target. Pulling out his knife, he slowly crept up to the man before his heart almost dropped at the sound of a bullet coming through the window. The target lie dead.

“Got em.” Y/N giggled through the com.

“Oh, fuck you.”

The bickering never stops, not even once their mission is over.

“I don’t need a flashy power to be better than you.” Y/N leaned over the couch, their arms swung over the cushions.

“Neither do I.”

Y/N scoffed. “You’re nothing without that radianite.”

“The same can be said about your weapon and you. You’re nothing without that either.” Yoru looked into their eyes, smirking.

“Y/N. A word.” Brimstone called from the hall.

“Daddy’s calling.” Yoru laughed.

“At least mine came back.” Y/N shoved a pillow in his face and walked off.

“Jesus christ. Do you two ever stop arguing?” Viper rubbed her temples.

Jett nonchalantly tuned in, her eyes still trained on a video game on the tv. “Yeah dude, you two need to fuck already.”

Yoru coughed. “What?!”

“Yeah bro, you two got something going on there.” Phoenix was beside her, focusing just as intently.

“You’re hysterical. I don’t like Y/N, I just want to put them in their place.”

“In your be-,”

“No.”

Phoenix and Jett laughed.

“I’m serious. I despise Y/N. I would rather listen to Killjoy talk about astrophysics all day.”

“Oh really? What do you hate about Y/N?”

“Oh wow, where do I start? They’re useless. They can’t do anything but aim really well from a distance. I have to save their ass everytime they get into a little bit of danger. I hate how they look when they get a good shot with the operator. I hate that stupid little giggle they have. I hate the way their uniform perfectly hugs their hips a certain way. I hate it when their pupils dilate slightly when the get excited, I hate it.” Yoru took a breath. Phoenix and Jett stared at him, their attention fully drawn to him.

“What?”

“Dude, you’ve got it so bad.” Jett laughed.

It struck him like a hammer to a nail. The more he thought about Y/N, the more endearing the thoughts became. Oh god, he liked them. He loved them.

“Well no point in standing here loverboy!” Yoru hadn’t realized he said it out loud, so Phoenix’s response caught him off guard. “You gotta tell them!”

“No chance, they hate me. No way they feel the same.”

~~~

“This fighting needs to stop.”

Brimstone had Y/N in the briefing room, sitting on opposite sides of the long ovular table.

“It’s not my fault he gets on my nerves at every turn.” Y/N kicked their feet up. “And if you hate us fighting so much, why don’t you just separate us? Seems to me anytime I need a partner you’re putting me with the rift-rat.”

Brimstone put his hand to his forehead. “Y/N, do you know why I pair you up with Yoru?”

“Clearly not.”

“Because mission success rates are the highest when you two are put back to back. Monte Carlo, Venice, New Zealand, all of your duo missions have come back successful, the only error is when you two decide to turn it into some sort of competition.” Brimstone laid out a file folder that was labeled “Rift-shot” Y/N opened it to find all of their and his statistics lying within it. “Think about what you two could do if you stopped trying to step on each other and instead tried to lift each other up. You’ve done it before.”

That last part was interesting to Y/N because, well... yeah, they have. They can remember all of the times Yoru has bandages them up in a clutch situation, or the times Yoru was about to get caught but a piercing bullet to the head deliver by them had saved him. Whether they liked it or not, Y/N and Yoru were perfect for each other. Back and forth. Left and right. Yin and Yang.

“We’ve got reports of a radianite shipment getting lost somewhere in Croatia, you think you’re up for the task?” Y/N lifted their head and looked Brimstone in the eye who gave them a knowing look.

“Fine. I can do it.”

“Not the answer I’m looking for.”

Y/N sighed. “We can do it.”

Brimstone smiled. “Dropship will be ready for you first thing tomorrow morning, I expect no issues.”

~~~

Yeah. There were issues.

Why Y/N had agreed to a mission when they couldn’t even look at each other now wasn’t their best move. They uncomfortably shuffled next to their partner who was also trying to mask his discomfort. They stayed like this, two trained killers who couldn’t even look each other in the eye for more than a second. Through apologies, awkward shuffling and flinching at even the smallest touch, they found it difficult not to say anything.

Y/N was the first to speak. “Hey.” Yoru turned his head. “I uh, I’m sorry I took that knife kill from you. I probably should have-”

Yoru interrupted. “No!” He coughed, and readjusted his tone. “You did well. As long as the target is dead we did our jobs well.”

“I guess so.” Y/N leaned in a bit more towards Yoru, more comfortable in his presence now. “And the look on your face was pretty funny.”

They giggled, and for once Yoru didn’t find it obnoxious or annoying. It was, cute. Comforting. And it made Yoru laugh along too. “I can’t say I disagree.”

Y/N held out their hand. “We make a good team, don’t we?”

Yoru held his out with a smile. “Yeah. I guess we do.”

And in that moment, everything felt right.

~~~

So why did everything go wrong?

Y/N hit the ground running, as fast they could even though they were carrying a whole human over their shoulder. Yoru was loosing blood quick, they knew that, but there wasn’t much they could do until they were out of harms way.

“The drop ship isn’t far, come on, you have to stay with me.” Y/N went as fast as they could, trying to make Yoru comfortable but also rushing at the same time.

The two hobbled into the ship, dodging bullets on their way. Once they were safe, Yoru collapsed on the cool metal floor, blood seeping through his clothes and violently coughing dead air.

“Hey hey hey.” Y/N frantically kneeled next to him and cupped his face. “It’s a 90 minute flight home, you have to hold on a little longer, I’ll do what I can to keep you around until then.”

His face may have been bloody and pale, but Y/N still saw him as the beautiful boy he was. Stroking his cheek and gingerly running their fingers through his hair, Yoru tried his best to muster a smile.

Yoru held the back of Y/N’s neck, trying to bring their face closer down. “Come here.” Y/N leaned down and Yoru lifted his head slightly to meet them with a kiss.

“Keep it together ok?” Y/N said after they broke the kiss. “I can’t lose you.”

Yoru pressed another kiss to their cheek and closed his eyes, knowing that his Y/N would be there when he woke.

[pear-pies]

Placebo in Rock & Folk magazine - April 2003

Words by Jerome Soligny, photos by Carole Epinette

Wonky translation under the cut:

These three did it all. Shot with the QOTSAs and posed with Indo. They survived "Velvet Goldmine" and the Top Bab. They come back after the ordeal of the fourth album. Danger interview: “Jerome, what if you came out?” They ask our charming reporter.

"We do not regret anything"

Everything begins again with "Bulletproof Cupid", a punky instrument that pulls everything off. Then "English Summer Rein", mechanico-depressive spinning punctuated by twisted keyboards, and "Sleeping With Ghosts", the lament which advances while blistering during cooking, confirm the tone. Against all expectations, because you never know how will age the groups that the previous album installed at the Top, Placebo took over. And stuffed it in an iron glove. Further on, "The Bitter End" tumbles through yapping guitars which would stick to the hatches the thickest of the sailors. Be careful, Placebo is on the way out of being one. At the end of the record, Brian Molko, Stefan Olsdal and Steve Hewitt do not even run out of steam. The cows. They drop a "Centerfolds" which frolic like a cynical top under a shower of saving doubts. What augur still other perspectives.

The fourth album: a horror for all who have faced it. Often a stupid trap. Returning from the Gothic directly inherited from the glam of pageantry and from these hasty and harmful certainties which congest the face and the veins, Placebo publishes its first real great disc. Oh, not the marvel of wonders, not the album from the third millennium, but something very strong, compact, tenacious in listening, which proves that the future is indeed there, in front, where the light is most blinding. Calfeucée in their Parisian hotel (the Costes, of course), our three lads do not make the blow of the revelation, of the luminous questioning. Simply, they now think with their heads, a good plan most often Likewise, reality no longer frightens them, and it is probably she who is hiding behind this "Sleeping With Ghosts" which relates the sorrows only for the better. melt into hopes At the moment when rock brings us back to life and when we just want to ask them everything, the Placebo have decided to say everything. Not even in a hurry, they settle down on the couch, ready to talk like never before. Despite new batteries embedded in the carcass, the Panasonic barely a Brian Molko: Hey Jerome, you came to talk to us this time when you had not come to the previous album ...

Rock & Folk: Uh yes but I was there for the first two, that says a lot, right?

Brian Molko: Certainly, I also believe that over time, we finally appreciate the true nature of the problem: we were mainly criticized for the sound of the previous album, which I can understand but, paradoxically, it is the one that brought us to the Top.

R&F: Legitimately, we have the right to expect a lot from the people we love: while "Black Market Music" sounded a bit like a sequel, this new record is all about a renaissance.

Brian Molko: Actually, we were finally able to live a little. After having existed in a small bubble for a very long time, we forced ourselves to take an eight-month break. The album-tour rhythm put us on the sidelines: we no longer had normal contact with anything. We were losing ourselves. We have fully lived the old cliché which claims that we spend the first years of our life writing a first record and six months on the second. It turned out to be very true. We had to get back to the situation of the first album, see friends, go shopping, look at the buildings in our city.

R&F: So the freshness would come from there ...

Brian Molko: Yes, and it was essential spiritually, emotionally and physically.

Steve Hewitt: We had to be in tune with reality again.

Brian Molko: In fact, we find ourselves in a bit of the same state of mind as when we released "Without You I'm Nothing", although "Sleeping With Ghosts" is a lot less gloomy. The heroin has since stopped leaking. In fact, I feel like I've pulled myself out of what I consider my second teenage years, between twenty and thirty. I conquered the self-destruction, exorcised some demons, understood what had happened to me. I held on to what I had learned. As a human being, I am now able to continue living, to try to answer the big questions posed by existence.

R&F: Maybe that's why the melodies are needed this time. It took me four records to get a favorite Placebo track.

The whole group in chorus: Which one?

R&F: "Protect Me From What I Want", of course ...

Brian Molko: The most paradoxical is that this song dates from the end of the "Black Market Music" sessions. I was not married at the time, but I was trying to get out of a particularly vicious divorce.just started. Then we wait for the lyrics, which don't arrive, it's rather intriguing. We especially wanted to avoid the big Rican producer side, we needed someone who shakes us up a bit. Jim could do that because he comes from dance and his pedigree is impressive. We have all his records at home, Bjôrk, Massive Attack, Sneaker Pimps and especially DJ Shadow. It is believed that guitar rock can only evolve by incorporating new genres, this is the only way to remain a modern rock band. At home, we practically only listen to hip hop.

R&F: Still, he didn't betray you.

Brian Molko: No because he actually brought out our rock side, which I'm particularly proud of. In fact, because we always wanted to control everything, it was not easy to be forced, to do certain things backwards, to walk on the head. But in truth, that's what we wanted: yes, there was some tension in the studio but we all took advantage of it. The challenge is necessary and it is also valid for the public. We opened up and rediscovered ourselves.

Stefan Olsdal (emerging from his chair): We found ourselves in front of the mirror, at the foot of the wall: someone had to kick our ass.

Brian Molko: Jim was like, "Why are you doing this?" We would answer him: "Because we always do it like that!" He would say: "All the more reason not to do it."

Stefan Olsdal: On the first day, he messed up all the demos, changed the tones, the tempos ...

R&F: Like Brian Eno ...

Steve Hewitt: Yeah, but with a lot more compassion. Eno is a bit (silence) ... We don't really like being told our actions, but at the same time, we are still young, still absorbing. Jim knew how to preserve us while making a modern sound.

R&F: Modern and rock'n'roll at the same time, a characteristic which does not necessarily apply to all the young groups in The which recycle the past gently but are convinced to have found the virus of the AIDS.

Steve Hewitt: Placebo doesn't belong to any current, has nothing to do with fashion.

R&F: You always pose as outsiders.

Brian Molko: It's the only way to survive.

Steve Hewitt: These bands, like The Strokes, play the nostalgia card.

Stefan Olsdal: And what happens next? I would not like to be in their place.

Brian Molko: If you want good New York pop, you better listen to Blondie.

R&F: In 2003, 11 seems that you have abandoned all the androgynous paraphernalia, sexual ambiguity, glam references ...

Brian Molko: I think today everyone knows what there is to know. Our sexual inclinations haven't changed, and we still wear makeup. It is just more expensive and better applied. We are ourselves, in our music and in private. I went through my travelo period (in French in the interview - Editor's note), and I understood that being androgynous was not wearing skirts. It is a way of being on the spiritual plane. It is not an image but a state of mind.

Steve Hewitt: It's like being punk, it's an attitude.

Brian Molko: At the same time, I don't regret any of my eccentricities. I grew up in the spotlight and it all kind of makes me smile.

Stefan Olsdal: People still talk to us about certain outfits or positions, as if it still shocks them.

R&F: Yes, and particularly in France, a particularly homophobic country which bumps heartily on gay artists.

Brian Molko: And you, coincidentally, you still hang out with.

Stefan Olsdal: Jérôme, it's coming out time (laughs) ...

Brian Molko: All that has to change, that all of France becomes gay (laughs)!

R&F: "Protect Me From What I Want" precisely, here is a title heavy with meaning. What was the idea behind this song?

Brian Molko: For me, it's a study of the pathological need people have to copulate, the search for meaning in copulation. As if bachelors or monogamists were aliens. As if we were only one when we were two. The song is about the fact that one relationship has destroyed me but I can't help but look for another ... why do I keep coming back to this?

R&F: Wow, we're bathing in philosophy here!

Brian Molko: Yes and it's the same elsewhere in the record: in "Plasticine", I insist on the fact that you have to be yourself above all while asking myself all these questions. Why do we have to do a lot of forbidden things, bad or harmful?

R&F: It's therapy in public.

Brian Molko: At least I find some balance in it. These are not songs about compassion or self-pity. They came out like this because it was vital for me. I am in this privileged situation where I can express myself and the world hears me. Otherwise, I would be really frustrated and I would have suffered a lot more in the last fifteen years.

R&F: Music saved your life.

Brian Molko: Sure.

Steve Hewitt: Everyone: I think we can say that. Without Placebo, we would not be not even alive.

Brian Molko: Spitting it all out is not necessarily the right solution. There are things with which to live. In fact, I've always been afraid to go see a psychiatrist ...

R&F: Yet, listening to you speak earlier, you could have the feeling that Jim Abiss acted a bit like a shrink with you.

Brian Molko: That's right. You could say that.

R&F: At a time when Bush and Blair want to play World War III, what attitude do you adopt? What do you think of these Englishmen who left for Iraq to constitute a human shield?

Brian Molko: Let's say we stand together. We participated in the March for Peace on February 14th with Damon Albarn and 3D from Massive Attack. We were also surprised that so few groups mobilized, which increased our desire to participate tenfold.

R&F: Do you consider that it is the role of the artist to give voice in such circumstances?

Steve Hewitt: Yes, in the sense that we can help with general motivation.

Brian Molko: I'm very interested in seeing if Blair is going to let Bush bomb Iraq with the British present on the soil of the country. If he ever allows that, the consequences will be dire.

R&F: It will only be one more religious war, in the name of oil and money ...

Brian Molko: It seems absurd that we can still fight for that. And curiously, nobody speaks more, or almost, of Bin Laden. Wouldn't it all come from him, by chance, as a huge consequence of September 11? On the other hand, we have such a feeling that Bush wants to finish the job that daddy started. Its image is so bad that it needs at least one war to restore its image.

Steve Hewitt: And reinvigorate its dying economy.

R&F: The method is lamentable, deceitful. Like those employed by the recording industry which claims to be doing well by selling pop in damaged boxes to ignoramuses.

Brian Molko: The ability of this job to ingest people, bribe them and then spit them out is impressive. This is what happened here at Canal +.R&F: Business is the beast.

Brian Molko: All these pre-made artists are young and naff ...

Steve Hewitt: They'll all end up in a labor camp for ex-pop stars.

R&F: Warhol was talking about fifteen minute glory, we're brutally passed to fifteen seconds.

Brian Molko: We should have called them Karaoke idols from the start.

Steve Hewitt: And it only works because of the TV ...

R&F: Who washes the poor, helpless brains.

Steve Hewitt: You can tell how much people want to think less

R&F: And spend less. For many, music should be free: one in five thirteen-year-olds doesn't know that a disc doesn't have to be a computer-burnt puck. Some are flabbergasted when they see a cover for the first time.

Stefan Olsdal: And those who don't buy records put pressure on those who have them to pass them on at all costs, just long enough to copy them.

R&F: Exactly.

Brian Molko: That's why we blame Robbie Williams so much. Scooping 80 million pounds off EMI and then declaring that pirating music is a fantastic thing just makes him want to stick a chunk in his face.

R&F .: And then piracy is not a matter of environment. It's not a suburban thing. There are rich kids who find it normal to burn 80 CDs during their weekend and sometimes sell them to their friends ...

Brian Molko: What do these people believe? That we are there, the face in the stream with a syringe stuck in the arm singing "La Vie En Rose"? And who will pay for our children's school? Not them, anyway. Our mentality is quite different: we always want to buy records from people we love, from our friends. Personally, we are partly out of the woods, but it will be particularly difficult for new groups to make a living from music in five or ten years.

R&F: Come on, we're not going to leave each other on this, a little humor won't hurt anyone. If you were to be banned from any of these three things, which would you choose: making music, making money or making love?

Steve Hewitt (almost tit for tat): I would stop making money, without hesitation. It's because I love music and sex too much. And then, well, you have to choose.

Brian Molko (completely overwhelmed): Oh damn, that's not true. What a dilemma!

R&F: No Brian, that doesn't count, make an effort (laughs).

Brian Molko: Ah, I don't know. And then if. I would stop making money and get on well with someone super rich.

R&F: Or you would be pimp ...

Brian Molko: Yes, that's it. Good plan.

Stefan Olsdal: Stop making love does not mean to stop loving ...

Brian Molko (preparing his shot): And we can always masturbate (general laughter).

Stefan Olsdal: OK then, I would stop making love.

R&F: Okay, it will be written in black and white for all eternity.

Brian Molko: Will we live long enough to regret it? This is the real question.

*COLLECTED BY JEROME SOLIGNY

[Inset, Trash Palace]

Already present on the first album by Trash Palace which he had adorned with his presence one unhealthy recovery of "I Love You, Me No More "in duet with Asia Argento, Brian Molko is coming to re-stack. This time he cosigns directly "The Metric System " with Dimitri Trash Palace Tikovoi, an electro saw boosted to bleeps fundamentals available in two remix and its clip on an enhanced single recently published at Discograph. The result is particularly (d) amazing and sounds good logical, like of Placebo cyber.Placebo in  Rock & Folk magazine - April 2003

[cristalconnors]

TOP 20 SONGS OF 2020

20. “BELOW THE CLAVICLE”- EARTHEATER

“The meaning hasn’t come up yet. It’s still under the surface below the clavicle.”

It isn’t just Alexandra Drewchin’s ear splitting soprano when she hits that impossibly high B, practically shrieking out the “cle” syllable of clavicle, though that’s undoubtedly when I first knew that Eartheater’s avant folk was for me- it’s also the cinematic, lush strings, both bowed and plucked (is that acoustic guitar or harp? I genuinely can’t tell), deepening and complicating the sonic texture of Drewchin’s study of parsing through emotions you aren’t ready to make sense of yet. 

19. “PUSSY TALK”- CITY GIRLS, FT. DOJA CAT

“This pussy so ghetto, this pussy speak ebonics”

“WAP”’s funnier, classless Irish twin, though it’s important to note “Pussy Talk” came first. Yung Miami and JT enlist Doja Cat to expound on everything their pussies deserve and will absolutely settle for nothing less than. And why should they when they’re spitting out verses this inspiredly hilarious with such confidence and flow? 

18. “LICK IN HEAVEN”- JESSY LANZA

“Once I’m spinning, I can’t stop spinning...”

Jessy Lanza is talking about losing your cool, letting your emotions get the best of you and lashing out instead of letting cooler heads prevail, but when that earworm of a chorus hits- “once I’m spinning, I can’t stop spinning” - I can’t stop spinning. I’m that woman on the single art, a wine mom lost in the delirium of the dance floor and in Lanza’s hypnotic, fragmented rhythms.  

17. “GASLIGHTER”- THE CHICKS

“Boy, you know exactly what you did on my boat!”

“Gaslighter” finds Natalie Ames and her Chicks at their most simultaneously ruthless and ebullient, ripping Ames’s ex-husband Adrian Pasdar a new asshole and ratcheting up the righteous anger of “Goodbye Earl” tenfold, channeling it into a glorious wall of sound in what might be their most rousing, emotionally resonant chorus in their storied career. 

16. “HANNAH SUN”- LOMELDA

“Hannah do no harm...”

While “Hannah Sun” begins as an exquisitely observed rumination on grappling with long-distance, pining for someone who’s a continent away, it gradually becomes clear that Hannah Read blames herself for putting the distance between her and the subject of her longing, and that the distance isn’t strictly literal. Skittering synths (or is that distorted flute?) complicate and enrich the texture of the song, allowing it to build organically and stunningly towards a heartbreaking plea to herself- “Hannah, do no harm.”

15. “FIRE”- WAXAHATCHEE

“And when I turn back around will you drain me back out? Will you let me believe that I broke through?”

When I’d drive back and forth between Dallas and Austin over and over again when I was in college, I’d often get off I-35 past Waco and take the back roads through towns I’d never heard of, the sun setting spectacularly behind the titular hills of Hill Country that were beginning to roll out in earnest. I think about that a lot when listening to “Fire,” a song dripping in rural Americana that was, unsurprisingly, inspired by a road trip. We’ve probably all been Katie Crutchfield as she crossed the bridge into West Memphis- alone in the car, awed by the simple beauty of the American countryside, making speeches to ourselves about our past mistakes and figuring out a way forward. 

14. “3AM”- HAIM

“On the screen and in my jeans, just make me feel good.”

On an album full of genre departures and decidedly darker themes than we’ve typically heard from Haim in their near decade of syncopated bubblegum pop rock, “3AM” stands out not only as their most effective stab at pastiche, slipping into the trappings of contemporary R&B with shocking ease and gusto, but also as their most unabashedly fun track in their entire oeuvre. “I think you can hear the amount of joy and laughs we had making this song” Alana Haim tells Apple Music, and you absolutely can.

13. “QADIR”- NICK HAKIM

“We’re sinking down a hole without thinking about our loved ones who might be shrinking...”

I often wonder if I’m putting enough effort into maintaining my relationships with friends I don’t see regularly, who live several time zones away, living their own lives while I live mine. When the thought of sustaining simple correspondence becomes overwhelming, it’s easy for months to go by before you realize you haven’t spoken to one of your closest friends. “QADIR” plays less like a eulogy for a friend gone too soon (though of course it is that) than a plea to the listener to put in the work. It’s worth it. You never know when it’ll be too late.

12. “LEVITATING”- DUA LIPA

“Glitter in the sky, glitter in our eyes shining just the way we are.”

Just a few bars of that delightfully bouncy, extra-terrestrial beat is enough to launch me into space. It’s so refreshing to hear a song that remembers that pop is supposed to be joyful and is best when it’s a bit silly. When discussing this track with Apple Music, Dua Lipa cites Austin Powers as inspiration, elaborating that “if I do a video for this, Mike Meyers has to be in it.” Can’t you just see them together, performing a farcical pas de deux of seduction like the spiritual successor to “Beautiful Stranger?”

11. “RIQUIQUI”- ARCA

“Love in the face of fear! Fear in the face of God!”

Arca’s made a career of harnessing chaos and somehow making sense of it. On an album that finds her embracing more traditional, accessible song structures, “Riquiqui” is a reminder that even when working within an AB structure, she’s still breaking rules left and right and having a blast doing it. She’s also never sounded so ferociously empowered in either her femininity or in her Venezuelan identity, rattling off local colloquialisms with affection and verve without a second thought as to who’s going to understand it. 

10. “FANTASY”- AGAINST ALL LOGIC

“I think about you all the time...”

Or, the musical embodiment of this gif:

When Nicolas Jaar’s tormented synths and crunching beats give way to Beyoncé’s unmistakable alto, it is indeed quite the shock. But should it be? Even if 2017-2019 finds him ditching the dancefloor in favor of more severe, unforgiving soundscapes, his already varied career has shown us nothing’s off limits to him. So why not reinvent Beyoncé’s iconic “Baby Boy” into an industrial, vaguely sinister certified bop that arguably surpasses the original?

9. “PEOPLE, I’VE BEEN SAD”- CHRISTINE AND THE QUEENS

“If you disappear, then I’m disappearing, too.”

“People, I’ve been sad” plays out with the vulnerability and intimacy of a tumblr text post you put out in the middle of the night, only to hastily delete later when it gets no notes. It forgoes flowery language in favor of just getting to the point. “I’ve been sad.” Héloïse Adelaïde Letissier blows up this deceptively simple sentiment with richly layered textures and a big screen gloss not to offer any remedies but instead to offer solidarity. We’re all in this hell together.

8. “DESCRIBE”- PERFUME GENIUS

“Can you just find him for me?”

Mike Hadreas has never sounded so hopeless. Utilizing harsh, rattling guitar that would make Kevin Shields swoon, he conveys the experience of being so estranged from happiness and joy that you need to rely on others to describe the sensation to you. But how, when exploring darker textures than he ever has before, does he make despondency sound so divine? 

7. “4 AMERICAN DOLLARS”- U.S. GIRLS

“No matter how much you get to have, you will still die and that’s the only thing.”

Meg Remy picks up where she left off on “4 American Dollars,” reviving the subversive pastiche she mastered on In a Poem Unlimited, this time harnessing the power of funk to dismantle the fallacies we’re taught about the virtues of capitalism. Heavy stuff, but Remy makes it less didactic than joyous, ensuring the listener will be singing “I don’t believe in pennies and nickels and dimes and dollars and pesos and pounds and rupees and yen and rubles” until they start to wonder if maybe they shouldn’t, either. 

6. “STUPID LOVE”- LADY GAGA

“I freak out, I freak out, I freak out, I freak out!”

Due to a healthy spirit of contrarianism mixed with a touch of internalized homophobia and genuine bafflement at her universal appeal and praise, I was a proud Lady Gaga hater for as long as she’d been a cultural entity. I just didn’t get her at all and loved that about myself. Annoying, I know. 2020 was the year I was finally ready to let that all go. Just before the world fell apart in March, I was out at Flaming Saddles (RIP) with friends the night this song came out and by the sixteenth time it played, I understood why it was inducing such hysteria. This was a cultural shift. After a frustrating near-decade of Gaga subverting expectations so thoroughly that she was actively working against her strengths and sabotaging her cultural ubiquity in the process, coupled with the most frightening era of political upheaval in our lifetimes, she was finally ready to save us and be Lady Gaga again. Booming synth, drag sensibilities, absurd thematic conceits- all was right in the world. For the first time in a long time, people had something to be hopeful about, and as I danced that night, I felt that hope, too. 

5. “SHELLFISH MADEMOISELLE”- RÓISÍN MURPHY

“How dare you sentence me to a lifetime without dancing?”

As soon as that bass starts (the funkiest bassline in the history of music?) it’s like Róisín Murphy’s snake charming oboe, coaxing even the most stalwart curmudgeon onto the dancefloor and keeping them there, dancing frantically and involuntarily like the citizens of Strasbourg in 1518, trying their best to keep up with Murphy who isn’t even breaking a sweat, commanding the masses with a sultry remove, beckoning you closer, pulling you inexorably deeper into the mass of gyrating bodies and whispering in your ear “come and have a dance with yer mum.”

4. “PARTY 4 U”- CHARLI XCX

“I only threw this party for you...”

As PC Music / Bubblegum Bass / whatever you want to call it enters its second decade, Charli XCX proves not only that there’s still new textures to explore within it, but also that no one can exploit its artifice to get down to emotional truths like she can. How can she make something this slick sound so vulnerable? “I only threw this party for you” she croons over and over again over glorious syncopated synths that build exquisitely, reaching their climax only to immediately fall away, until it’s just her and her trusty autotune, pleading with the subject of the song to just come to the damn party. But they won’t, of course. They never do, do they?

3. “WAP”- CARDI B, FT. MEGAN THEE STALLION

“I want you to touch that lil’ dangly thing that swing in the back of my throat!”

Sometimes you just immediately know you’re living through a significant cultural moment. No, not COVID. I’m talking about the experience of hearing Cardi B and Megan Thee Stallion’s instant classic “WAP” for the first time, a titanic meeting of the minds that finds both of them at the apex of their cultural influence and at their most undeniable. Can the argument be made that these two aren’t the two best rappers in the game right now? How could you hear this inspiredly filthy sex positive juggernaut, where Cardi and Megan are trading the sickest verses of their careers, and not think these two deserve the world? 

2. “KEROSENE!”- YVES TUMOR

“I can be your baby in real life, sugar. I can live in your dreams.”

If the 2010′s were all about the pop-ification of all music, trading in live instrumentation in favor of polished synths, 2020 forcefully announced the return of the electric guitar when Yves Tumor and Diana Gordon’s back and forth lustfully submissive declarations of desire suddenly gave way to that nasty guitar rip lifted from Uriah Heep’s “Weep in Silence” to announce yet another cultural shift in a year chock full of them- rock and roll was, indeed, here to stay. 

1. “I WANT YOU TO LOVE ME”- FIONA APPLE

“I move with the trees in the breeze, I know that time is elastic.”

We live and we learn. Years spent soul searching and on self-discovery shape us into better, smarter people, progressively knowing and understanding ourselves and the world around us more and more clearly, but Fiona Apple knows that none of that can quell the ferocious desire to be loved by someone. By anyone. By you, whoever that is. We can know that time is elastic and that when we’re gone all our particles will disband and disperse and then we’ll be back in the pulse, and we can know that none of this stuff actually matters, but still- we want, we want, we want. 

[diaryofabeautyfiend]

Reader would like to apologize for the decision Steve Rogers is about to make. No smut just sadness.

Small Time Witch (24)

F I V E Y E A R S L A T E R....

.....And so far you’ve survived. Your days are not without moments of melancholy. Your thoughts meander back to the days when the two of you would sit quietly in your loft reading the day away. The music of old book pages turning and tea cups clinking onto saucers filled the air. The song still plays but it only plays for you.

You’ve become somewhat reclusive over the years. You’ve stopped going to the bar and haven’t talked to Jason. It’s just as well. Hopefully he’s found someone to help him move on. Maybe he’s happy.

Despite your official hermit status you are happy. You have a routine and just enough human contact to keep you from going completely insane. Friends come and go. Some stay the night sometimes longer. You welcome human contact in controlled doses. Some you welcomed more than others. Mostly you enjoyed your self imposed solitude.

Sometimes you take the trip to visit Hilde. She is taking care of the day to day business in New Asgard since Thor doesn’t come out much. She is always exciting and happy. When you need that she is happy to give it.

Today you are heading up the coast to meet her. When you hit a certain spot you put down your windows so the salt and brine of the ocean can fill your car. It smelled like Hilde. The air is crisp and the wind biting. Your hair whips your face as you sing loudly with the radio. She meets you at the entrance to the city with a big smile and a bigger kiss. With her you feel reborn.

“Your timing could not be more perfect. Thor has guests.”

You narrowed your eyes, “Guests? Who?”

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.” You jumped back into your car and drove as close as you could to his hovel. You knocked on his door and Bruce answered. Though, it wasn’t Bruce. It was like Bruce and Hulk somehow merged to form a super Bruce.

“Y/n! Good to see you.” He wrapped you in his big green arms taking care not to crush you. “Angry girl!” He high-fived Hilde who smiled at you with immense amusement. “This is Rocket.” You shook hands with a raccoon. A freaking raccoon.

Thor glared at you, “I suppose they sent you in to bring me back as well.”

“Umm no. I was just here to visit Hilde. This was a pleasant surprise. I’m sorry bing you back? Is something happening?”

“We found a way to undo it all.” Bruce said with a cautious tone.

“Yeah but not Loki though so...” Thor looked was pretty drunk and smelled like he hadn’t bathed in weeks. Guilt rose from your chest and burned your throat. You should have pushed harder to see him.

“He wasn’t snapped so we don’t know. We’re going to try, Y/N.”

Your were filled when righteous indignation. No one bothered to even fill you in on their plan. If there was even a slim chance Loki could be brought back they should have told you.

Thor saw your balled fists crackle with electricity. “Y/N should come back with us. It’s the only way I’ll go.”

“I don’t know, Thor....”

“Bruce, I’m coming.” You looked back at Hilde who smiled though you could feel you were hurting her feelings. “Don’t leave without me. You..” you dragged her outside.

“You don’t have to explain yourself.” Tears shimmered in her eyes though she did her best to play them off.

“Yes, I do.” You pressed your lips against hers. She pulled you closer and deepening the kiss. Everything you had to say to her was in that kiss. I’m sorry. I love you. Goodbye. I’ll miss you. It was all there. Hilde was not one for flowery words. She was a physical person and that’s how you had to show her how much she meant to you. You pressed your forehead to hers giving a few more gentle pecks. “Thank you.”

“It was most definitely my pleasure. When you see him, tell him I kept you warm and promise me you’ll take a picture of the scowl on his face.”

“I love you:”

“I love you more.”

———————————————————————

Bruce’s words churned in your head the whole way back to the compound. They were “going to try”. You were sure that Loki wasn’t a huge priority. The thought made you angry all over again.

The Avengers had no problem overlooking his past discretions when they needed him. He was mostly tolerated because of Thor. Now there may be a chance to bring him back and they were “going to try”. It was going to be really hard not to melt someone today.

When you pulled up Tony was outside waiting for you. He opened the car door and took your hand. “Y/N. Good to see you.”

You sensed a lecture so you leaned against the car and folded your arms so he could speak. “Did Banner fill you in?”

“Not really.”

“We’re going back to get the stones. Like back in time. We’ve tested it. It works.....just as long as there are no fuck ups. So I guess it begs the question: are you going to fuck it up?”

“Not intentionally?”

He sighs frustrated, “Look, kid. I know Loki means a lot to you. We have to bring everyone back and if that means your boyfriend not coming back...”

“Husband.”

“No shit? Huh. If that means your husband. We have to sacrifice something.”

You were beyond yourself. Your magic jumped through your fingers wildly. He watched you eyes wide holding his hands up in surrender. “Kid. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like it sounded.”

“How many times did he save your asses? Yet you continued to punish him. Was his repentance not enough for you?! He sacrificed his life for that stupid stone. I don’t see anyone sacrificing you.” You raised your hand to knock him on his ass when Thor bear hugged you and dragged you away.

“Little sister you must control your temper. I will let you go if you promise not to kill anyone.” You struggled for a moment then relaxed against his chest. He spoke softly against your hair, “I want him back too. I miss him. If you can control yourself there is a way.”

He told you the plan to retrieve both the space stone and mind stone at the point of Loki’s arrest in 2012. “When they create the diversion you help him escape.”

“How am I supposed to do that?”

“You’re clever. You’ll think of something.”

Neither of you were thinking clearly. This was a stupid and not at all thought out plan. Neither of you accounted for the fact that he would be under heavy guard. The 2012 Avengers wouldn’t know you so they would be far less sympathetic to you if you were caught. And the biggest risk of all was that 2012 Loki was going through some things and was definitely not the same man you felt in love with. In fact, you wouldn’t be surprised if he figured out a way to use you and kill you when you were no longer needed. None of that mattered to you.

He waited for you to simmer down so he could bring you inside. You were met with sympathetic eyes and knowing smiles. You wanted to rip them all apart. The last eyes on you were Steve’s.

He gave you a quick hug hello and beckoned you into the other room.

“I haven’t heard from you in a few weeks. You doing ok?

Eyes closed. Count to ten. Deep breath. Don’t explode at the man. “Why didn’t you call me?”

“Because if we couldn’t bring him back I would have to watch you lose him all over again and I can’t do that. Tony ran the possibilities, honey. He’s not coming back. I’m sorry.”

“Mhmm. Well I’m here so can I help?”

His lip quirked up on one side, “You sure can, Princess. You can watch the platform and electrocute anyone who comes near it.”

Condescending prick. “No. I want to come with you.”

“Nope” he said with a pop of his lips.

“Steve, please! I just want to see him again. I’ll stay with you the whole time. I promise. And don’t tell me it’s dangerous. You know I can handle myself. Please.” You grabbed his hands and forced him to look at you. “I just want to see him. What would you give for that chance? What would you give to see the woman you love again?”

His eyes softened, “I’m looking at her.”

Your cheeks flushed. “I’m not talking about me.”

He knew you were talking about Peggy. And, you were right, he’d give anything. He couldn’t deny you this one time chance.

“Fine. But you stick by me and you do. not. do. anything. Promise me.”

“I promise. Thank you. You’re a good man, Steve. I love you.” You hugged him around his waist and he felt in his bones that this was a bad decision. He considered this his final declaration of his adoration.

“I love you too, Princess. Always.” He pressed the two pieces of Yggdrasil into your palm. He had kept them all this time locked away in a box inside of his sock drawer. Your eyes started to get a little misty. He kissed the top of your head and spoke softly in your ear, “Always.”

You all suited up jumped on the platform and hit the buttons. You landed in a alley littered with rubble from the attack. Hulk ran by smashing everything in his path. You split up into your predetermined teams and went to your positions.

Once you were in your new gear you joined the other men and women guarding Loki.

The closer you got to him the stronger the pull. You were falling apart inside. Every muscle in your arms trembled forcing you to reach out. To touch him. Your breath hitched in your throat and came out like a quiet sob. They all heard it. You shifted uncomfortably in your suit and your body propelled itself in his direction.

“Y/n, you good?” you heard Steve speak. He held his breath when you got closer to your husband. “Y/n keep it together. We are so close, baby” You held your finger to your earpiece and a high pitched ringing filled your ear. You cut your comms. “Shit! Tony, stop her!”

You were close enough to him now that he would be able to feel you. He had to know that you meant him no harm. You spoke softly so only he could hear, “Don’t look at me. When I say ‘go’ grab the tasseract and go. Blink twice if you understand.” He blinked twice and you moved away.

It all happened so fast. Scott triggered the arc reactor to short out. Present day Tony escapes with the Tasseract. You were supposed to follow behind him which you did. You felt Hulk’s rage emanating from the stairwell. In one fluid motion you pushed Tony towards the door and kicked the case which opened at Loki’s feet. He reached for the cube when he felt your hand on him. “Go!” and you followed with him.

Scott Tony and Steve made it outside with the spear. They argued for a second before Tony realized you weren’t with them.

“Where is she? Steve! Oh I’m going to kill her!”

Steve smiled and shook his head. “Come on, Tony. We’ll find another way.”

When they went back to the base in Jersey Steve began to feel all of the things he suppressed for so many years. He was a man out of time and felt like he had no place in it. He just wanted to get it right. Right now he should be old and surrounded by grandchildren. He was done fighting.

He never expected to see Peggy but there she was. Peggy wanted those things too. His eyes followed the curve of her crimson lips that he dreamed of kissing for years. He thought about your words. What would he give? Everything. When this fight was over he would give up everything. He made his decision right then and there.

[clonecest-bin-account]

Thank you for doing this!

Bingo box; mischief, pairing: tech/wrecker(I'm also happy their just friends), prompt: Wrecker chalenges Tech to a throwing contest. He didn't say Tech couldn't use technology.

(AHsdhshkfdhs I love)

“Why should I even agree to do this?” Tech immediately asks.

“Because it’s fun!” Wrecker replies, as if Tech doesn’t know his actual motive, something that he doesn’t hesitate to make known.

“No, it’s because you like these stupid games because you always win,” he says in fact. For what other reason would Wrecker come to him of all people challenging him to a throwing competition?

This is nothing new however: Wrecker does tend to get restless, and when he does he often turns to challenging the others to some sort of contest, anything to battle the boredom. It’s not like Tech doesn’t understand him, but he also doesn’t want him to get cocky after an easy win, because let’s face, he’d never be able to beat him.

Wait, unless…

 “You know what?” he says. “Fine, I’ll do it.”

“Awesome! Then we--”

“But not now.”

“What do you mean ‘not now’?” Wrecker asks, confused.

“I mean that I need time to prepare. What? You thought I’d be able to do it immediately?” Tech replies, patting on Wrecker’s bicep. “I don’t wanna lose to you.”

At that, Wrecker burst into laughter; it isn’t a mocking laughter though, he genuinely finds it funny but not in a bad way.

“Alright, I’ll give you some time,” he says, jovially slapping Tech’s shoulder and almost sending him fumbling ahead. “Come find me when you’re ready!”

Tech has to fight really hard to hide the smirk on his face, but he manages. “Don’t worry big guy, I will.”

 It takes less time than Tech thought to get ready, which is good because eventually Wrecker would’ve grown bored of waiting and he would’ve sought him out to finally do this challenge.

It wasn’t easy to hide his project from him, given how close they are, Tech had to utilize every single moment in which they weren’t together to work on it. Thankfully he could’ve counted on the others’ help who, having gotten wind of Tech’s plan, did their best to keep Wrecker away from him; they’re true friends.

Now that he’s finally ready, however, he doesn’t need to avoid it anymore, and actually, he goes straight to him. It’s not hard to find him, Tech only had to follow the noise - he never was that stealthy to begin with.

Mh, looks like Wrecker’s doing some weights. Tech almost feels bad for interrupting him so he just leans against the doors and waits for him to be done, which might be just an excuse to admire his body. What? If Wrecker didn’t want to be watched, he could’ve sealed the doors. Besides, those back muscles look so good that Tech can’t help but to stare…

 He chuckles at the startled way Wrecker turns towards him when he finally speaks - he hadn’t noticed him at all.

“Hey there, big guy…”

“Holy-- Tech! How long have you been there?” Yes, Wrecker really hadn’t noticed him.

“A while,” Tech replies, a smirk on his face that gets soon mirrored by the other.

“I see, I see. Enjoying the show, huh?” he comments, flexing his arm. Tech has to bite his lower lip or else he’d say something that would completely deviate from his original purpose.

Concentrate, Tech! Now’s not the time to get distracted!

“Not really, actually,” he says. “I came here for the challenge.”

Wrecker still doesn’t drop the smirk. “Oh? You think you’re ready?”

“I don’t think I’m ready, I am,” Tech replies, trying very hard not to sound cocky, but he can’t help it, not with his secret weapon. Sure, it might be cheating, but Wrecker never set any rule about using technology, so technically he’s not breaking them.

Wrecker picks up on the tone, however, and he looks more than intrigued. He’s figured that Tech must have some sort of plan, which makes him curious.

“Let’s get going then.”

 They walk out of the Havok Marauder, not wanting to break anything inside, and get settled on the clearing they have landed. Miles and miles of plain fields, the perfect zone for a throwing contest.

“What do we get if we win?” Tech can’t help but to ask.

“Huh?” Wrecker replies, scratching the back of his neck. “I didn’t really think about that…”

Typical Wrecker, he throws himself into any kind of challenge without even thinking about what comes next.

“How about who wins gets a kiss?” he proposes.

“But we already kiss all the time!” Wrecker replies. “What would make that special?”

“It would be a victory kiss…” Tech explains, though he himself isn’t that convinced about that. Kissing was the first thing that came to mind, that why he suggested it.

Wrecker thinks about it just a moment, then he nods.

“Yeah, makes sense. I think…” he says, turning immediately towards Tech again. “So, are we doing this?”

“Ladies first,” Tech jokes, though he’s serious about wanting Wrecker to go first.

 They’ve agreed to throw one EMP grenade each, since they don’t want to cause actual harm to the environment. That kind of grenades is harmful only to droids, so they should be safe.

Wrecker weighs the one in his hand, juggling it a bit. His stare is fixed ahead of him, observing a potential target.

The rules are simple: whoever throws the grenade furthest wins.

Tech smiles, stretching his hand. If only Wrecker would’ve noticed that his armor is slightly different from the usual he might’ve questioned what he did to it, which by the way is nothing too major: just a thruster that will help him launch the grenade further and give it a little boost.

He feels a bit bad about what he’s doing, but how does that saying go? In war and love there are no rules. Sure this might not be as serious as actual war, but hey they’re still soldiers, so he guesses it counts. He isn’t sure about that, and actually is pretty sure that it’s just some excuse that he’s ramble-y brain came up with, but whatever. Not everything has to be serious: sometimes he might just want to do something just for the sake of doing it, or just for the sake of general mischief in this particular case.

 Wrecker goes completely still, just for a moment, then he throws the grenade. It flies through the air through an ample arc. Tech doesn’t have his bucket on so he can’t calculate the exact distance, but he doesn’t need it to discern that it’s a lot; it makes him wonder if even the help of technology will be enough to win this. Not that it would be such a huge loss, but c’mon he does have some pride.

They’re barely able to hear the sound of the EMP grenade detonate, which prompts Wrecker to turn towards Tech with an excited gaze.

“Pretty good, huh?”

“Yeah…” Tech can’t help but to admit, sounding genuinely impressed. Ok, maybe he won’t be that mad if he loses after all.

 It’s his turn now.

He takes Wrecker’s place, observing the field in front of him. He didn’t want to use his bucket to calculate the trajectory because he felt that would’ve been too much cheating, but now he finds himself regretting it.

He does his best to understand the wind’s direction and use this information to figure out what his best throwing angle will be. Eventually, however, Wrecker has to yell at him: “We don’t have all day!”

“R-Right, sorry…” he apologizes, deciding to wind it. If it works, good, if it doesn’t, at least he tried.

He almost dislocates his shoulder for who strongly the machinery in his armor pulls at it, and after throwing the grenade, Tech finds himself stumbling a few steps ahead before finding some semblance of equilibrium back.

In a moment Wrecker’s by his side, holding him up.

“Shit, Tech! Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I think I am,” the other replies, not wanting Wrecker to worry for nothing.

 They wait, they wait and they wait, but after loosing track of the grenade, they still haven’t heard the sound of its detonation, which means…

The realization hits them both at the same time, making them turn towards each other, Tech with a cocky gaze and Wrecker with a surprised one.

“Looks like I--”

“No way!” Wrecker immediately exclaims. “Something must’ve gone wrong!”

“Yeah, like?” Tech challenges him.

“Oh I don’t know… Maybe it just didn’t detonate!”

“Wrecker, they’ve never not detonate, so why it should’ve done it now?”

“I just…”

“Face it, big guy, I won.”

 Every bad feeling Tech had about this dissipates into nothing as he watches Wrecker try to make sense of all this. It’s really fun to watch.

“You used some trick! There’s no other way!”

“So what? You never mentioned anything about them,” Tech points out, the smile still on his face.

“… Shit, you’re right,” Wrecker finally realizes. This is as close as an admission that he lost that Tech is going to get, so he’ll let that be enough. Besides…

 He turns his face towards Wrecker, exposing his cheek.

“So? I’m waiting for my prize.”

He hears Wrecker huff, then he suddenly grabs Tech by the chin, forcing him to turn his face again so that he can press their lips together, which isn’t what Tech was expecting - not that he’s complaining, of course.

When they pull away, Wrecker’s still pouting, though it’s obvious that he’s forcing himself to keep it up.

“Happy now?” he asks, and Tech can’t help but to laugh, leaning closer for another kiss.

“Yes.”

[ashintheairlikesnow]

I Won’t Lie: Handler Todd/ 435689

The results from last night’s Livewrite! PLEASE heed content warnings, this one is intense.

CWs: Whump involving a minor (character is 16), beating, broken bone, referenced noncon (in the form of gross jokes + internal thought, nothing happens), degrading/dehumanizing language, Box Boy setting. Briefly referenced forcd malnourishment/starvation. Captor bonding / emotional manipulation

“I didn’t fucking do anything wrong!” The boy stumbled forward through the open door, nearly tripping on his own feet and just barely caught himself, his arms out for balance. As soon as he’d come to a stop he spun around, hands curled into fists at his side, glaring up at the handler.

He didn’t know this one’s name. If they weren’t your primary and didn’t take a special interest, you never learned their names.

“You sure as fuck did,” The handler snapped back at him, and there was victory just in getting a handler to lose his temper, but the boy’s heart was pounding fast with fear, too. Not enough fear to make him back down - not yet. “You stole. Even outside that’s a fuckin’ crime, ‘689.”

The boy’s eyes narrowed and he drew himself up to his full height, wishing he was taller. Wishing that doing this didn’t make him feel ridiculous next to the handler, when he barely came up to the guy’s shoulders. “I. Didn’t. Steal.”

“On top of that,” The handler continued, like the boy hadn’t even spoken, “you gave that stolen food to a trainee currently being disciplined. He was going without for a reason, you stupid little shit, did you even think to ask?”

“It doesn’t matter! He was fucking hungry!” The boy all but screamed the words - they’d had this argument over and over all the way from the cafeteria, where he’d been caught, to the training room he’d been thrown into.

“You’re all fucking hungry,” The handler sneered, then sighed, rubbing at his temples with his fingertips as he took the boy in. “That’s the whole point. So you’re up to two infractions - stealing food and giving stolen food to a disciplined trainee. Hence… here.” He gestured around, and the boy swallowed, hard, refusing to give him the satisfaction of looking anywhere but right into his stupid blocky blotchy face.

He’d never been in one of these training rooms - he was for cleaning, whenever someone wanted him, and they didn’t train for that here. This was a training room for the Romantics, and he didn’t have to look around to know that.

If he kept his face set in anger like this - kept his eyes narrowed and his back straight and his legs a little apart so his bare feet were flat on the cold tile floor - he felt stronger than he really was, and he didn’t have to think about how worried he was that the handler had brought him here for more than the usual kind of punishment.

It wasn’t supposed to happen to the ones like him.

A lot of things weren’t supposed to happen here. A lot of things still did.

“I didn’t steal,” He said, one more time, and pitched his voice as low as it would go. “I don’t steal. I didn’t, and I don’t, and you have to stop saying I’m lying when I’m not!”

“Where’d you get it, then, huh? The granola bar you gave that smartass little shit when you took his fucking muzzle off. Where’d you get it?”

The boy backed up as the handler moved forward, eyes flicking back and forth to try and look without looking. Behind him, he knew, there was a padded table with buckled restraints that lined every single side - he’d seen that when he was pushed through the door. He knew there were cabinets, and a table along the wall, and some chairs or something.

Maybe he could grab the chair?

His eyes went towards the little metal folding chair closest to him, but then the handler moved forward fast, almost bolting forwards, and the boy stumbled away and to the side, safe for the moment - but farther from the only weapon he’d seen.

“Someone gave it to me,” He said, moving backwards still. He felt so fucking small, with the handlers… he was small. He was younger than everyone else he’d ever seen that he could remember, all sharp elbows and knees, and there were other trainees who fought back but none of them ever fought long enough to matter.

He wanted to fight enough for it to matter to someone, even if it was just… taking off somebody’s muzzle when no one was looking and giving him something to eat. It hadn’t felt wrong, even though they kept saying it was, and he knew the handlers were always right, but…

“A handler gave it to me,” He said, finally, making his voice as firm as he could with his heart still beating in his throat. “He gave it to me and told me to, to save it for when I needed it. And I needed it for the, um, the other trainee.”

“Im-fucking-possible,” The handler replied, but he came to a stop, and the boy let out a breath of relief, as he managed to put a little more distance between them. “There’s no way that’s true. And trust me, you do not want to blame one of us for your mistakes, 689.”

“I’m, I’m not!” With the distance between them, the boy could breathe again, and he took one more step back, and then another, trying to calm himself down. “I’m not lying, you can, you can ask!”

“Fine, then, I’ll ask. Sit your ass down.” When the boy didn’t move, the handler sighed again, like the boy was the problem here, and pointed down towards the floor like a man giving orders to a dog. When the boy still didn’t move, the irritation and annoyance written across the handler’s face darkened even more.

“I said sit the fuck down. In the chair or on the mat, I don’t care, but your ass sits on something in less than ten seconds or I’ll make it hurt bad enough that you can’t.”

The boy had a single breath of rebellious thought - well that would defeat the purpose of the fucking order, wouldn’t it? - before fear won and he dropped to the ground on the thick padded mat on the floor, pulling his knees in close to himself, staring up at the handler. “Yes, handler,” he muttered, picking at the thin fabric of his black trainee shorts, looking up through his eyelashes with his chin down, dark brown hair falling over his face, so he could watch the man move without it being obvious.

“Good boy,” The handler snapped without feeling, and pulled his cell phone out of his back pocket, eyeing it while still trying to keep his vision on the boy, as though he might sprout wings and fly away… as though he could do anything here but be where and what they wanted. “The handler who you claim gave it to you. What’s his name? Is it your primary?” He scrolled through something, eyes rapidly moving back and forth as he read. “Says your primary is…”

“Todd gave it to me,” The boy said quickly. His primary was someone else - he didn’t want him here, no matter what. Not now. Maybe the boy would get lucky and the primary wouldn’t even know until he came back tomorrow. “Handler Todd did. He, he gives me food sometimes.”

“Todd?” The handler looked up, surprised. “Fucking Todd? Shit, he would, too. That guy’s got some creepy thing about you underagers. Yeah, okay… let’s see. Maybe Todd gets in the shit and not you tonight.”

“W-wait-” The boy’s eyes widened. “Wait, he’d get in trouble?”

He hadn’t thought about that. He didn’t even know handlers could get in trouble. They did anything they wanted, they could do anything they wanted to anyone at all. He hadn’t thought about how… Todd was at work. He could get punished, too.

Guilt hit him, like a blow to the back, and the boy slumped forwards, putting his hands over his face. Oh no. I’ll get Todd in trouble because I gave it to someone else instead of eating it.

“What, you think we’re supposed to fuck up your specially designed nutrient-rich blah blah bullshit diets? No, if he’s giving you special shit on the side, he’ll get written up for it. I mean, not that he doesn’t, right?” The handler grinned at him, briefly, and the boy wrinkled his nose in disgust. “I mean, there’s got to be a reason he’s so obsessed with you, right?”

He’s just nice. Not like you.

The boy turned his face away, staring down at the bright red mat, redder than anything he’d ever seen before. Then again, all of what he saw was mostly variations on white. Except for when he was bleeding.

The handler spoke into his phone, low and soft, words that didn’t quite carry across the room. While he talked, the boy continued to stare at the mat, letting his eyes - and his mind - go slowly unfocused. He still felt guilt welling up like tears and had to keep swallowing it down - if he got Todd in trouble, he’d feel terrible. He should have thought of a lie before he gave the granola bar away, or just… maybe if he’d just admitted to stealing it, they wouldn’t even have asked from who…

Finally, the handler stuck his phone back in his pocket and glanced over. “All right, he’s on his way. Lucky for your dumb ass he’s working tonight.”

Was it night? The boy looked up, puzzled, eyebrows furrowing. But he’d just had breakfast. How was it night? Or… had that been dinner… but he’d only woken up a couple of hours ago… He tried to cut off the train of thought when he caught the handler’s stupid fucking grin back on his face.

“If he vouches for you, you’re off the hook. Back in your room, I’ll get you there myself, no harm no foul. Yeah?”

The boy just stared, curling himself up a little tighter.

“If he doesn’t, and you’re a filthy little liar giving stolen food to bad pets, then you’ll be disciplined for that. Now I know you get the easy stuff mostly-”

If this is easy, what’s it like if it’s not?

“-but you’ll get real discipline if you fuck up on my shift. So you best hope your little story checks out. Just sit tight and wait for him to get here.” The handler smirked and then went back to the door, leaving the boy alone in the room.

He looked around once the handler was gone and no longer the center of his entire field of vision. There was a little fridge in the corner, and a small counter and sink, and he stared at that, feeling his own stomach gnaw hollow inside him. There was a rush of saliva to his mouth at the idea that there might be food in that fridge - he’d skipped his own meal to have time to sneak the bar to the muzzled boy, and the shakes never kept you full long enough.

He couldn’t, though. He’d been ordered to sit, and he’d already messed up too much today. But… his eyes kept drifting, over to the fridge - and then snap back to the door. Over to the fridge - back to the door.

If he’d just eaten the stupid bar when Todd gave it to him, he’d be full right now and nobody would be in trouble. As it was, he’d tried to be nice, and all he’d done was get the muzzled boy, himself, and probably Handler Todd all disciplined.

“God damn it,” He muttered, lower than a whisper even, and kicked at the stupid red mat he was sitting on.

Why couldn’t he stop trying to do stuff like this? It only ever got him in trouble, sticking up for other people, and Todd was always telling him to stop sticking his neck out or it’d get cut off, but he just… couldn’t.

They kept telling him, when they disciplined him, that he must like being hurt, since he kept fucking up, and the boy was starting to wonder if fuck up, get hurt was all he was good for. Well, that and scrubbing the stupid fucking floors.

At least he had Todd. At least there was somebody nice here.

He had just about talked himself into looking into the fridge when he heard voices and footsteps and was so, so glad he’d been good and stayed on the mat.

If you’d gotten up when you first thought about it, you could have seen what was in there and eaten by now.

The boy ignored the voice and waited, listening to the soft beeping as a passcode was entered on the other side, then the familiar ssshhhh-click of the door unlocking, the way every single door in this entire place unlocked as far as he could tell. When the handler came back in, the boy was sitting in the exact same spot on the mat where he’d been left, looking up politely, his face schooled into a sort of obedient remorse.

He was getting better at lying, except for when they caught him at things outright.

Behind the handler was Todd, right on his heels, an expression of uncomfortable concern on his face that the boy couldn’t quite read.

“All right, here we go,” The handler said, closing the door. “Look. 435689 here was caught giving  granola bar to another trainee today.”

“He was?” Todd’s eyes widened with surprise, and he looked over at the boy, taking in his appearance, then looking back. “He doesn’t look like he’s been disciplined yet-”

“He hasn’t.”

“Well, if I could step in and take care of that problem…”

The boy felt his heart leap, just a little, and leaned forwards, resting his weight on his hands on the floor. Todd’s punishments were always easy to handle, nothing that even hurt, just things like scrubbing extra floors or standing in one place with his nose to the wall for a really long time. Come on come on come on-

“Nope, you’re part of the problem, according to him.”

“I’m what?” Todd’s expression changed - a nervous look was there, now, and the boy’s initial burst of hope faded, just a little. “How am I part of the problem, Jenkins?”

“He says you’re the one who gave it to him. That you gave him contraband with your own hand. That true, Todd? You’ll get pulled up to the Director for that kind of bullshit.”

Todd was quiet, but he looked away from the boy, then, and met the other handler’s eyes. “That’s hardly worth bothering Renford about-”

“Bullshit it’s not. Look, I get that you like to, like, get in there and treat ‘em like people now and then. I don’t question your process. But when you start fucking up their meal pattern, you fuck up the cognitive changes, too.”

“Yeah, I know, Jenkins, I went to orientation the same as you did.”

“So you know how essential the nutrient disruptions are to the process. If you’re handing out food to the underagers, you’re screwing up everything we’re trying to do to them.”

The boy watched the conversation like a man watching a terrifying tennis match, brown eyes moving quickly back and forth from one to the next. He understood almost nothing they were saying - words like cognitive and nutrient disruption didn’t mean anything, they were just sounds made by tongues and teeth. But he understood that Todd might be in trouble, and being in trouble meant that he’d have to speak to Director Renford.

The boy’s throat nearly closed up at the thought.

He’d met the Director face-to-face one time, when he’d hit a handler with a closed-up nutrient shake bottle so hard he’d given the guy a black eye. He never, ever wanted to see her ever, ever again.

The idea of Todd having to talk to her was almost worse somehow. The boy’s whole life was here, Todd had somewhere to go home to and he didn’t. He shouldn’t have to be scared of the Director, like the boy was. He shouldn’t have to be in trouble.

“So did you give him the bar or not?” Jenkins asked, looking half-bored with the argument by now.

Todd barely hesitated. 

“No. I came to see him in his room yesterday. He was upset, and I-”

“Yeah, yeah, I know what you did,” Jenkins gave an exaggerated wink, and while the boy stared down at the floor with his face turning red, Todd’s jaw only set into a line.

“Yes,” Todd said evenly. “And he must have taken it out of my clothes when I wasn’t paying attention.” He looked over at the boy, and sighed. “You try to be fucking nice to them, and this is what you get.”

The boy let out a breath, all at once.

It was good, for Todd not to get in trouble because the boy hadn’t been careful enough. It was good that Todd would be okay. Todd had done a good thing to make sure that he wouldn’t be disciplined with the Director and he could still come see the boy and the other ones like him, be nice to them when nobody else was.

So… why did it hurt, that he didn’t just admit that the boy had told the truth?

Relief fought with a sharp kind of sadness he couldn’t really give a name to, and the boy swallowed it back, forced it down inside of himself where he always had to force his anger. He couldn’t quite make the heat that burned in his eyes go away, he had to choose one thing or the other, and so he let the tears build.

They only made him look guiltier, anyway.

“I’m sorry, H-Handler Todd,” he said, letting the sniffle come through in his voice.

“Yeah, you should be,” Todd said, with a cold, firm voice he had never used before. “I don’t have to stick my neck out like I do, ‘689, come on…” He sighed, and looked back at Jenkins. “Look, I can handle the discipline on this one, Jenkins. He tried to point fingers at me, let me be the one to show him not to do that again.”

Jenkins rolled his eyes. “Sure, if the lying was it, but it’s not. He also took another trainee’s muzzle off to give him the contraband. So that’s, what, three infractions? All at once? I don’t trust you to do enough to make it stick. You’re soft on ‘em all, anyway. Come on, grab your baton.”

The boy’s eyes dropped to the black batons all the handlers wore at their belts, with the little button that took the pain of the blow and added the shocks that were a thousand times worse.

He had to remember how to breathe, staring at them - the air was stuck somewhere between his lungs and his throat, little bubbles of panic resting just behind his collarbone threatening to simply stay there and suffocate him.

Why had he been so stupid? Todd had trusted him, given him that granola bar to eat because he cared, because he thought the boy would eat it himself, and he’d, everything he’d done ever since had been so stupid.

“Yeah, okay,” Todd said, pulling the black baton off his hip. “Come on, 435689, up you go. Hands on the table, back to us.”

“How many, you think?” Jenkins asked, the two of them watching the boy push himself to his feet on knees that wanted badly to buckle and send him back to the floor. If he fell, though, it’d get worse - they’d add more to the count, or they’d do something that hurt even more. “Jesus, he’s skinny.”

“Yeah, he is,” Todd said, smacking the baton into the palm of his free hand, watching the boy flinch. His mouth was a thin line, and the boy looked up. He was sure he could see real worry for him there, real concern. That Todd wasn’t really mad at him.

There wasn’t anyone else - Todd was all he had. If he was mad because the boy had done the wrong thing… but no. No, he was sure if he looked close enough, that Todd wasn’t really upset. Maybe he’d keep coming to the boy’s room and showing him pictures, being something in his day that wasn’t training and drugs and broken, dozing sleep.

The boy padded silently across the tile floor - each step felt more like walking on ice than the last - and finally came to a stop in front of them. He tried to search Todd’s eyes for more of… of something. Anything more reassuring than just the little bit of hope he had that what he was reading was being upset for him and not at him.

“Twenty-one,” Todd said, and his eyes were cold “Turn around, 689. Palms on the padding. Three sets of seven.”

The padding had a little bit of give under his hands, and he leaned forward. He knew what they wanted him to look like, for this, and he fixed his eyes on a spot on the wall. Just plain white nothing, and he took in a deep breath and held it as long as he could. Had to find the place where his thoughts could go away, and he could just get through this and to the next pain, and the next.

His thin shoulders were hunched up near his chin, he swam in the white V-neck T-shirt because there weren’t any made for someone as short and skinny as he was.

“That sounds good,” Jenkins said, still grinning, but it had widened - he was going to enjoy this, in a way Todd clearly wasn’t. “Seven for each infraction. He looks like he’ll crack after ten, so that sounds good to me.”

Todd cleared his throat, swinging the baton a little, warming up his arm. The boy tried not to notice it in the corner of his eye. “You count, got it, 689?”

“Yes, Handler,” The boy said, keeping his eyes on the wall. Pure white. Nothing but white, and if he tried not to blink he could let it bleed into his brain and take over his thoughts. Nothing but white.

He had made a mistake, taking the gift Todd had given him and giving it to someone else. He’d been… kind of mean, to ever want Todd to take responsibility for it and get in trouble instead. He’d been the one to do all the wrong things, and they punished you, then. He knew that.

But he was still fighting back a twist of betrayal inside of him, a part that had hoped Todd would admit that the granola bar really had come from him. He was still fighting a tiny little voice that said if he cared about you, he wouldn’t have lied to make himself look better.

Todd was all he had. The only one who cared. He couldn’t listen to the voice that said he didn’t, because if that was true… there wasn’t any end to that thought, only fear. Only the white walls and white floors and white light and nothing else.

“He counts,” Jenkins said thoughtfully. “He counts, and he says ‘I won’t give food to punished pets’ for the first seven.”

Todd, who the boy couldn’t see any longer, made some kind of noncommittal noise.

“Then for the second, he says, ‘I won’t remove protective gear from dangerous pets.’”

Another soft hmm.

“Then for the third, he says, ‘I won’t point fingers at handlers’. Or ‘I won’t lie’. Which do you like better?”

Todd paused, and the boy tried to keep breathing, taking in the calmest breaths he could. They kept shaking, every inhale felt thin, every exhale shuddered out of him all at once, forced out by squeezing lungs.

Back, or legs, this time? Back or legs? They switch it up, they think it’s funny - maybe both. Back or legs?

“For the third set, I vote, uh… the, uh, second one.”

I didn’t fucking lie. The anger leaps up in him, burns right past the fear and the boy’s mouth opens to protest again before he snaps it shut, dropping his head straight onto the table to keep himself in control, breathing hard through his nose. I didn’t lie, I didn’t lie, you gave it to me and I didn’t lie…

No. He couldn’t be mad at Todd. He was just trying to be safe, to not get in trouble, to not end up in front of her. It was all an act, just a show for the other handler. It was fine, it was okay if Todd lied a little and pretended the boy had lied, it was fine because if it was fine, that meant Todd would still come back to see him tomorrow.

“Great. I’ll take first and second round. I know you’ve got some kind of weird hardon for this kid, I’ll only make you do one set.” There was a kind of thump, a really light soft sound, and the boy realized that Jenkins was patting Todd on the back. Sympathizing. “It’s always hard to discipline your faves, right? I’ve got this cute little-”

“Please stop,” Todd said, tightly. “Let’s just get this done.”

“Man, you never want to talk trainees with the rest of us. Whatever. Brace up, ‘689.”

There was a pause, just long enough for the boy to steady himself and press his forehead and his palms as hard into the surface of the table as he could, and then he felt the black baton connect with the middle of his back in a sudden burst of pain.

He grunted, having to gasp for air at first, lifting one hand and smacking it back down into the table in an attempt to have some control, and then said, “One! I won’t give food to punished pets!”

“Good boy. Next up.”

The next blow was higher up, near his shoulder blades. The third, on his thighs instead, buckling his knees and forcing him to scramble back up onto his feet to avoid the fourth hitting his head instead of his upper back, just barely getting back into position in time. Each blow hit harder, his voice was thinner and smaller.

The flat space in his mind was close, if he just held on a little longer he could find it, slip away behind the wide-eyed, blank-faced stare they all learned sooner or later. But they hurt him too much, too often - it took more and more for him to feel pain that didn’t feel normal, now.

Handler Jenkins was worse, on the second round. The blows were harder, stronger, layered over the places he had hit before. The boy’s initial grunts turned to cries of pain, and he was all but draped over the table, struggling to keep his legs under him, scared of what would happen if he fell on the floor.

But still, he counted.

“Th-thirteen… w-won’t… remove protective gear from, from dangerous pets…”

Shouldn’t have helped. Shouldn’t have stuck my neck out for someone. Why can’t I just stop doing that? Why can’t I stop getting in trouble for other people? Why am I the one who fucks up and gets hurt, over and over?

“One more, and then it’s on you,” Handler Jenkins said from behind him. “Straighten yourself, trainee, you look like a Romantic after a long day. Get your fucking spine straight.”

The boy pushed himself back up, legs trembling, pressing the soles of his feet as deeply into the cold, unforgiving tile as he could. He braced the palms of his hands against the edge of the table, and a low whine of pain was all the sound he made as he stood up straight, as tall as he could get.

The final hit from Handler Jenkins hit him so hard on his thighs that it knocked him forwards, slamming his stomach into the edge of the table as his knees finally gave up and crashed him to the floor.

He crumbled more than he fell, every exhale a pained whine, scrabbling at the side of the table with his hands, trying desperately to pull back up.

“Hit him any harder than that and you’ll break a fucking bone,” Todd said. His voice was thin, and strained. A hint of paternal affection ran through, the boy thought, not that he knew what having a dad was like.

He’s worried about me. He still cares about me. Get back up, you stupid pet, get back up. The boy struggled, but his feet seemed to slip and slide along the tile, he couldn’t seem to find purchase.

“If I did, maybe he’d really learn his lesson. I didn’t hear you counting, trainee.”

“Fourteen,” the boy whispered. His attempts to pull himself back up weren’t really working, all he felt was an awful, sickening pain that throbbed with his heartbeat from his lower thighs up through his shoulder blades. “Won’t… gear. Won’t… take the muzzle off… again.”

“That’s not quite right, but… yeah, okay, you can have that one.” Jenkins laughed, the sound grated along the boy’s jangling nerves and he choked off a sob, tried to shove it down where the anger and hurt lived already. “Your turn, Todd. Finish ‘im off.”

There was a long silence, and then footsteps, and the boy’s arm was roughly grabbed. He yelped as he was dragged back up to his feet. “Gotta stand up or it doesn’t count, trainee,” Handler Jenkins drawled, shoving him forward so he rested with his elbows on the table, bent over it at the waist.

He sagged, nearly falling again, and Jenkins slapped him in the center of his back with the flat of his hand. “I said stand up.”

He’d held it back until then, but the boy finally screamed at the impact that lit up the welts, crashed even more pain through nerves that had been certain they’d already taken as much as they could.

“He can’t stand up on his own,” Todd snapped. “You hit too hard, jackass. Let him take a break.”

“No fuckin’ way, I got shit to do today. I’m not changing my schedule for him.” Jenkins shoved the boy’s elbow to the side, buckling it into the restraint closest to it, tightly enough that the boy might have cared if he wasn’t already just eyes and a brain and agony anyway.

One arm buckled in and then the other, and when he stepped away the boy’s legs weren’t holding him up any longer - the leather biting hard into his forearms was, cutting and digging, pressing deeply in. It hurt and after a second his fingertips started to buzz, bloodflow struggling to push through the constriction.

The boy stared dazedly down, tears running down his face and dripping clear as glass onto the table, and thought, I’ll have bruises there tomorrow. A semi-hysterical laugh threatened, somewhere deep in his throat. And everywhere else, too.

More silence, and then Todd said, in a low voice, “Remember to count, trainee.”

“And remember to say you won’t lie,” Jenkins added.

There was an exhalation - Todd sighed, maybe. The boy couldn’t see, didn’t know. He’d closed his eyes by then, forehead back to rest on the cool of the tabletop. He was boneless and hurting and broken.

Why did I try to be nice when it just hurts all the time?

The first blow from Todd wasn’t half as hard as Jenkins hit, but that didn’t really matter anymore, because he was hitting places that already hurt and lighting them up again. The boy jerked forward, whimpering at the impact against the back of one hip.

“Fifteen, I… I w-won’t…”

I didn’t lie, I didn’t, I told the truth, why are you making me say that I lied about you?

“... I won’t lie,” he finished, slumped. It didn’t matter that he hadn’t lied, it didn’t.

“Good boy,” Todd said softly.

The boy wondered if Jenkins could hear the relief the same way he could. Todd hadn’t known if he would say it until then. I can lie for you. I can tell lies for you, just please come back to see me again.

The next one, and the next. He said it over and over, I won’t lie, I won’t lie, even though he hadn’t, but by the fifth hit the boy felt like he had. He felt guilty. He’d been so fucking stupid.

Would anyone else here have gotten in trouble for him? Nobody else but Todd cared.

He started to really cry, then, pools of tears across the table beneath him, making his face wet when he pushed his cheek down into it and tried, desperately tried, to find the white space on the wall.

He’d almost gotten Todd in so much trouble, and he had gotten himself in trouble, and none of this was worth it.

“Six… won’t lie,” He groaned, pulling heedlessly and uselessly at the restraints just to do something - his body wanted so badly to escape, to at least try. His hands felt numb now, weirdly cold, and he stared at them wondering if they were turning red or if the red was all in his mind.

“Whoops, somebody’s about to drop out,” Jenkins said, voice drifting close and then far away in the boy’s awareness, laced with thick amusement. “Fucker forgot how to count.”

“He’s fine, Jenkins. He’s still got the right number for this set, I’ll count it.”

“Too fucking soft on him, Todd. Make him do it again.”

“No.”

“Don’t let him get away with being a lazy shit and miscounting, make him do it again.”

The boy wondered if handlers ever used their black sticks on each other. Handler fight, he thought, and let out a horrible half-conscious giggle. It shook his body enough to make him whimper again.

“I say he’s fine. Final blow. You got it in you, kiddo?”

There was a pause. Then Jenkins laughed, incredulously. “You fuckin’ call him kiddo?”

The boy’s heart warmed, under the layers of everything terrible there was this. He could hold onto that kiddo, could get his hands around that while everything else hurt too badly to think about. Kiddo made him sure. Kiddo meant Todd wasn’t mad, that he was definitely coming back.

“No, I just-...”

“I can do it,” The boy interrupted, groaning a little louder this time, trying to get Handler Jenkins’s attention on him, not on Todd. “I c’n, can take… two more. Fucked it uh, up. Can take two more.”

“Yeah, okay, kiddo,” Jenkins said, drawing the word out, making it mocking and awful where it always felt wonderful coming from Todd. “Guess I can do the last two for you, sport. That sound good to you, dude? Two more blows and then you’re done, old buddy, old pal?”

“Jesus, fuck off, Jenkins.”

“You call him your son, too? When the rest of us aren’t around? Are you that kind of fucked up? Call ‘im your son when you bend him over-”

“I said fuck off, Jenkins!”

He never touches me like that, he’s not like the rest of you, he’s better, he’s better than all of you, he’s better and he cares about me.

“Jeez, just teasing. If you do call him that shit, though, you should probably seek some kind of therapy for that, that’s pretty fucked up.”

The boy didn’t hear Todd’s answer, because the baton hit his back again harder than ever, and the boy’s awareness was nothing but black dots in his eyes and pain.

“T-t-twenty! I w-won’t… won’t… lie…”

Barely enough hesitation to breathe and then the next one hit, as hard as Jenkins could possibly swing, connecting with a sound like thunder through the boy’s body right along his right side. He felt something in his ribs crack and screamed - or tried to.

All that came out was a horrible thin wail.

Every breath hurt, shallow gasps all he could do, and he could barely whisper his final count.

“Twenty-one. W-won’t… lie… pl-please, please be d-done… please, ‘m sorry, so s-s-sorry…”

“Jesus Christ, you broke something,” Todd said, sounding stricken. “Jesus fucking-... why did you do that? Now he’ll have to go to the clinic, we’re gonna have to explain this, I’m not even his primary, Jenkins!”

“Yeah, well. Whoops. My hand must’ve slipped. He’ll know better than to lie now, won’t he? You want to get him to the nurse, or me?”

“I’ll do it,” Todd said, heavily. “I got this. Get out of here and go train your own fuckin’ boys.”

“Yeah, well.” Jenkins raised his voice. “Hope you learned your lesson, kiddo!” Footsteps, the door opened and then closed again. The boy didn’t move, sprawled over the table like someone’s discarded doll.

Should’ve just been like everyone else and not helped.

He heard the scrape of a footfall nearby and flinched, then cried out in pain as his right side right like he was on fire with pain, sharper and brighter and hotter than all the other aches combined.

“Sssshhhh,” Todd soothed. “Just me, kiddo. Just me.”

“... ‘m sorry,” The boy whispered, forcing his head to turn so he could look at Todd through bleary eyes. “Sorry, didn’t… g-get you in trouble. I’m sorry…”

“I know you are, buddy. Okay, I’m gonna have to call someone from medical, I think if I pick you up I’ll just make it worse. We’ll get you a gurney. You took your discipline really well. I’m really proud of you.” A hand carded through his hair, brushed against his forehead, cool and dry when the boy was pouring sweat and felt like everything that didn’t hurt from the blows was on fire.

He closed his eyes and moaned, a little, at how nice it felt to not be hit anymore, pushed his head into the hand that ruffled his hair. He could be a good pet, he could. He’d fucked up again today but he could be good, and not get hurt so much… he could.

“I’ll get you some help in the clinic. Just give me a couple of minutes, okay?”

“Sorry I was, was bad,” The boy rasped.

Todd’s hand paused, then petted through his hair one more time, lingered there. He slid his hand around to cup the side of the boy’s face, brushing tear tracks with his thumb.

“Don’t worry about it,” Todd said, softly “You were just trying to help that other boy. But what did we talk about, buddy?”

The boy took shallow breaths, stabbing pain in his right side with every motion. “N-not… not stick m’neck out an’... more.”

“Right. I don’t want you to get hurt, kiddo. You get why I had to pretend, right? So that I wouldn’t get fucked over and I could still come see you?” Todd’s fingers scratched lightly just behind his ear, and the boy whined, softly. He knew it was an animal kind of sound, but he couldn’t stop himself. “You get it, right?”

There was a hint of uncertainty in Todd’s voice. 

Guilt, maybe?

But what did Todd have to feel guilty for?

“I… I do,” The boy managed, fingers twitching. When Todd reached out to take his hand, he couldn’t really feel it. “Get it. ‘M sorry you had… had to lie… because of me.”

“It’s okay.” Todd leaned down and kissed his sweaty hair and the boy felt whole new tears, relief and gratitude and something very much like love. “It’s okay, kiddo.”

“It… it is?”

“Yeah. You’re still a good boy.”

[mitchmarnier]

I want these words to make things right (but it's the wrongs that make the words come to life)

pairing: eddie kaspbrak/richie tozier [reddie] rating: teen & up word count: 10,531 summary: Richie Tozier runs an anonymous tip for superheroes in the town of New York City. Sounds like a great idea, until you throw in the ex boyfriend superhero he's still in love with, and the weird blue eyed man who somehow figured out the man behind the blog ⤹ a NOT birthday fic for the lovely leigh (@s-s-georgie) 

perma taglist: @jwilliambyers, @stebbins, @isaacslaheys, @s-s-georgie, @transrich@eddiefuckinkaspbrak, @edstozler, @emgays, @anellope, @thorn-harvester-ven, @wheezyeds, @vipertooth, @tozierking, @billdenbrough, @starrystoziers, @trashmouthtozierr, @willelbyers​ @itfandomprompts, @loserslibrary (let me know if you want added!)

read on ao3

Spotted!: The one and only FlyBoy, rescuing not one, not two, but six students of New York University from a late night fire in the little coffee shop down on Old Broadway. Damages to the building were extensive- and it’s going to be closed for a very long, unknown future- but nobody was harmed thanks to our very own eye in the sky. FlyBoy, we salute you and I think we can speak for everybody when we say that we sleep better knowing you’re out there. 

Richie sent out the blast, still smiling at his phone. He’d barely even opened his eyes when he’d rolled over to grab his phone, which wasn’t anything abnormal. Richie ran one of the most popular blogs in New York City, completely anonymously. It had started out as his own interests, keeping taps on all the iconic heroes of their great and crime ridden city. It had quickly grown in regular viewers and subscribers, everybody realizing how coinvient it was to one location with all the information. More reliable information than the actual news, if Richie did say so himself.

“Really? FlyBoy again?” Richie’s roommate, Beverly Marsh, barged into Richie’s bedroom without knocking. “Don’t you think you’re getting a little too hung up on this guy? You’re running an update blog, not a FlyBoy fanblog.”

“FlyBoy is the guy to watch for.” Richie shrugged as he rolled out his bed, reaching out blindly for his glasses that he’d left on his bedside table. Beverly was standing at the edge of his bed with her hands on his hips. “Why are you looking at me like that, Mom?”

Beverly grabbed an NYU crewneck off the floor and threw it over his head. “FlyBoy isn’t the only superhero in the city, Richie! You’re falling off your brand and you’re going to lose your following. And in case you hadn’t noticed, your following pays most of our bills.” 

Richie rolled his eyes. He grabbed his lucky jeans off the floor and slipped into them without changing his boxers, getting a little too much enjoyment out of Beverly’s cringe. “Would you chill out? I’m still just reporting the news, Bev. It’s not like anything else happened last night.”

“Dr Incredible stopped a bank robbing,” Beverly pointed out without even needing to look at her phone. “You didn’t say anything about that. Not to mention- Captain Fast literally saved an entire family from plunging off a bridge in their car last night. You know, Eddie Kaspbrak? Your best friend? The love of your life? I think maybe that would be a little newsworthy, don’t you?”

Richie scraped his black curls into a bun at the top of his head and started throwing textbooks into his backpack. “Beverly, I have had my eyes open for all of ten minutes, and seven of them have been you lecturing me on how to run a blog. I will post the rest of the events from last night and anything that happened this morning on the way to class that I need to go to. Because I have a life, so unless you wanna take over all the blog responsibilities… get off my dick.” 

Beverly scoffed as Richie pushed past her out the door to his room, shouting at him that there was brewed coffee on the counter even as they both knew that Richie was going to be stopping at Starbucks for something that was more sugar and syrup than actual caffeine. 

Richie went to the same Starbucks every morning before class, and every evening after classes let out. Stanley from his Psychology 101 worked there, and he never failed to give Richie shit about his nasty habits. He was a scrawny man, with tight curls. He was always well dressed under his work apron, light coloured button ups and pressed jeans. He always looked so put together and proper that Richie wanted to frazzle him and mess him up completely.

Stan’s customer service happy expression dropped into a look of disdain. “You’re back. Again.”

“Everyday, Stanny, you know me.” Richie leaned against the counter and winked at the unimpressed barista. Stan turned away from him, putting Richie’s regular order into the register. “Gotta get that caffeine fix.”

“I’d hardly call this caffeine by any means.” Stan let out a scoff as he finished ringing up the order. Richie handed Stanley the cash, and tried to chase the barista down the line in the process of making Richie’s entirely familiar order.

“You can’t lean over the counter like that.” Stan said in a low, bored tone. “You know, you’re lucky it's in my job description to be nice to you.” 

Richie chuckled, watching as Stan applied a double spray of whipped cream that Richie certainly hadn’t paid for. “If this is you being nice to me, I would hate to see you mean.”

“Yes, you would.” Stan placed Richie’s pale drink down onto the counter and slid a straw over to Richie without Richie needing to ask. Richie grinned, and took a long, overly dramatic sip before turning away. He nursed the drink throughout his short walk to his campus building, and tossed it- half finished- into the garbage before ducking into his lecture hall. He slid into his regular seat in the far left side of the hall, then frowned as somebody sat down on the other side of him. 

It was a cute enough guy, with soft brown hair that flopped into his face. His eyes were an icy blue and there was a scar running through one eyebrow. Richie felt goosebumps jump up on his forearms as the boy stared at him.

“You’re R-R-Richie T-Tozier, right?” Bill said, voice pleasant even in the low tone. It soothed Richie in an odd way, and he felt himself lowering his guard even as he wondered why he was doing it. 

“Yeah…” Richie said slowly, lifting his pen towards his mouth and biting down on the bottom end. “And you are?”

“My name is B-B-ill.” He said, before glancing over his shoulder. He bit down on his bottom lip and leaned in closer to Richie’s space. “You’re the runner of Spotted!, right? The superhero tracker blog?”

Richie blinked at him. His teeth threatened to break through the plastic of his pen. He cleared his throat awkwardly and looked forward at the professor, droning on about something Richie couldn’t care less about, especially with how his heart was pounding in his chest. “Sorry, man. I think you’ve got the wrong guy.” 

Even as Richie refused to let his gaze waver from the front of the room, he could feel how Bill’s eyes continued to burn into the side of his head. “Well.” Bill said, voice somehow seeming much closer to Richie’s ears than he felt it should be. “If you a-ar-are the m-man behind the sc-screen, I th-thought you sh-should know that Pr-Professor Fly will make an app-appearance tonight.”

Richie jerked his head to look at Bill, but the other guy was already standing and making his way through the lecture hall. He didn’t even turn around as Richie unabashedly stared at him. Professor Fly had once been the biggest, most known superhero on the NYC scene. Along with the flight powers that his name implied, he’d also been strong and fast. He’d had a plethora of powers, so many it was beyond abnormal. Nearly three years ago, Professor Fly had stepped onto the scene with a mentee- none other than FlyBoy- and only six months after that he’d completely dropped off the face of the Earth. FlyBoy continued to work in the city, and make a bigger and bigger name for himself, but Professor Fly had not been seen in over two full years. 

It was juicy information, no doubt. The kind that made Richie’s stomach tense up and his palms sweat. If Professor Fly was coming out of retirement, that could only mean somehow seriously Bad was on the scene. But Richie didn’t run a gossip blog, and he would never post something he didn’t have any proof on. Not even something as huge as a potential Professor Fly comeback.

Spotted! Just a little  recap of last night’s busy activities in the city that never sleeps: Dr Incredible bringing a bank robbery to a skidding halt, making sure all our favourite rich bitches and Wall Street moneybags have their millions safe for another day! Thanks, dude! And OF COURSE, the adorable and flawless Captain Fast saving an entire family from certain doom, and looking absolutely mouth watering in that spandex as always while doing it. Keep it up, babe. The public loves you :*

“RICHIE!”

Richie hardly reacted as the apartment door busted open and Eddie Kaspbrak stormed into the living room. His hair was damp, flattened to his forehead from the rain outside. The same rain that had left stains all over his grey NYU shirt and blue jeans. His fists were tightened at his sides, and he looked absolutely adorable.

“How can I be of service, dear Edward?” Richie asked, punching at the buttons of his xBox controller. Eddie stomped forward and grabbed it from his hands, tossing it across the room. “Hey! What the fuck?”

“You can’t fucking flirt with me on your stupid blog!” Eddie cried, running his hands through his hair. “Okay? People are gonna… they could figure out who you are if you keep doing that!”

Richie sat up straight on the couch. “Okay, do you know how little sense that makes, right? I make flirtatious comments about every hero I post about. Except Dr Incredible, I think guys a fucking sham.” Eddie rolled his eyes as Richie carried on over him. “And even if I did flirt with you more than the other heroes, they’d still need to know who you are to connect the dots to me. So take a breath. If you don’t want people commenting on your spandex, don’t wear it.”

“This isn’t about spandex.” Eddie said, though Richie could see that the anger he’d been wrapped up in when he’d come into the apartment was quickly seeping out of him. “This is about you. I don’t want you in danger, Richie.”

“You’ve made that beyond clear, Eds.” Richie stood and stretched his hands above his head. “It’s pretty much all I’ve heard from you.”

“Rich…” Eddie said sadly, but if there had been anything further to that sentence it evaporated right from Eddie’s mouth. 

Eddie and Richie were diaper buddies, a real sandbox love. Richie couldn’t remember a point in his life without Eddie in it. They’d grown up inseparable, and Richie still remembered vividly when they’re relationship had begun to grow into something more. Junior year of high school, when Richie finally, finally found the nerve to ask Eddie out on an official date. And the next couple weeks after that were bliss in a way that Richie had never known. Until suddenly, Eddie had started blowing him off. Cancelling dates, and dodging Richie’s calls. When Richie had moved to confront Eddie about his behaviour, to beg him to at least end it and not keep him hanging on, Richie had learned the truth of Eddie’s powers. Apparently, it ran in his family and his mother had tried her hardest to keep it from Eddie, in desperate hopes that Eddie would be different but the powers can come nonetheless. Some smaller ones- a heightened sense of touch, and an acute sense of knowledge of a person or object by touch which Richie lovingly called his Vibe Checks- and of course, his speed. Eddie had always been a fast runner, ever since they were kids, and he had been shaping up to be a big track star before the Powers had appeared to him. Afterwards, however, Eddie could run the length of the entirety of the country in mere seconds. 

They’d stayed up together that whole night, talking and crying and kissing, and they’d felt so good about everything. Richie thought having a superhero boyfriend was maybe the coolest thing that could ever happen to anybody, even if he wasn’t allowed to tell another living being. While still living in Derry, things hadn’t been so different with Eddie having powers. Things really changed when they moved out to New York City. Richie had always known Eddie was a good person, the best person, but he’d never accounted for how Eddie’s powers would come into play when they were suddenly in a city with other Supers and a sky high crime rate. 

They’d tried to make it work, Richie beyond supportive in Eddie’s crime fighting causes. (Hello, superhero boyfriend? Still the coolest shit ever!) but one misstep, one single incident where Richie’s safety had been put on the line, and Eddie had stopped them in their tracks. It hadn’t even been because of Eddie’s identity, Richie had been in a strictly wrong place wrong time sort of situation but Eddie had lost it. Claimed that their relationship was a liability for Eddie, that Richie was Eddie��s biggest weakness and that Eddie couldn’t risk Richie’s safety like that. Richie had argued tooth and nail, claiming that breaking up didn’t mean that they weren’t in love and that Eddie shouldn’t be giving up his personal life for these powers but it had fallen on deaf ears. Eddie had packed up his belongings and left their shared apartment. They’d tried to stay friends, but the love between them kept things strained. 

Richie padded into the kitchen and grabbed a can of pop from the fridge. He offered one up to Eddie, who shook his head as Richie knew that he would. He hopped up onto one of the seats on the counter and stared Eddie down. Eddie leaned forward on his elbows. 

“We can’t keep having this same argument, Richie.” Eddie said in his prim and rehearsed voice. “It’s not because I don’t love you-”

Richie squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head quickly. “God, you just said we can’t keep this argument. I don’t need to hear this fucking speech again. You gave it to me when we broke up, you gave it to me six months ago on my birthday after we got drunk and-” Richie broke off and exhaled hard. “I’m sorry I talked about your spandex on my blog, I’ll try to tone down the flirting when I talk about you.”

“No.” Eddie sighed, resting his chin in his hands. “I overreacted. You didn’t say anything you wouldn’t have said about anybody else on there. And you’re right, people would need to know who I am to connect you to me. And nobody knows who either of us are.”

Richie blew out a long breath, flicking his thumb against the tab of his pop can. “Actually, Eds… somebody might know who I am. So, yeah, I should be more careful when talking about you on there. You’re the one who was right as usual.”

Eddie’s mouth dropped open and he pushed away from the table to round on Richie. He grabbed him by his shoulders and forced Richie to meet his gaze. “Richie. What are you talking about.”

“I’m not really sure, honestly, it was weird.” Richie ducked out of Eddie’s touch, frowning as the memory of his class that morning washed back over him. “It was some.. Guy in my theory of screenwriting lecture? He just sat down beside me and he addressed me by name and then asked if I was the one who wrote Spotted!. I told him I wasn’t, because you and Bev are both always on my ass about keeping it a secret, and then he told me…”

Richie stopped and looked up at Eddie. Eddie stared back at him, holding Richie’s eye line longer than he had in the two years since they’d called an end to their romantic relationship. “What, Rich? What did he say?”

“He said that Professor Fly would be making an appearance tonight.”

Eddie’s expression remained blank for several moments before the usual chaotic energy took him back over. “Why would he say that? How does he know that? How does he know you? There’s no way that’s true, nobody has heard anything from Professor Fly for almost three years. Not even FlyBoy knows where he is, he’s retired. There’s nothing he’d come back for, not unless it was the end of the world big. Is this the end of the world big? Richie?”

“I don’t know, Eds. He didn’t give me an itinerary for the night's events.” Richie said. “I think he just wanted me to post it on my blog like I’m some sort of gossip column. It’s not a big deal.” But Eddie didn’t look convinced and Richie could practically hear the little hamster wheel in his head running. “Unless you know something that’s going to happen tonight?”

“No.” Eddie said immediately, shaking his head. “I haven’t heard anything besides minor crimes and car accidents the last couple weeks. It’s been… almost too calm. I don’t like the sound of this guy, Richie, and I definitely don’t like what he’s suggesting. I’m gonna- I’m gonna talk to some people. Don’t leave this apartment and don’t post on Spotted! until I get back.” 

“You’re not my boss!” Richie cried as Eddie tore out of his apartment like a tornado. 

Eddie returned quickly, as Eddie was prone to do. He stumbled into the apartment as dusk began to settle outside, a tray of coffees in his hands. “Okay, we only have a few hours to figure this out.” 

Beverly had been just getting into the apartment when Eddie had come in and nearly crushed her behind the door. She frowned as Eddie handed her one of the steaming paper cups and somebody came into the apartment behind him.

“Stan from Starbucks?” Richie asked with a frown, watching as Stan and another tall, black man he didn’t recognize came into his apartment. “Eds, I get you wanted coffee or whatever but you don’t need to bring the store back with you.”

Stan placed the only non-hot beverage down onto the counter. “I’m going to tell you something, and you need to promise not to be weird about it.” Richie stared at Stan with his drink raised half way up to his lips, and Stan let out a low sigh. “I’m FlyBoy.”

Richie whipped around to glare at Eddie, pointing an accusing finger at his chest. “FlyBoy has been Stan from Starbucks this entire fucking time, and you didn’t think to tell me that?”

“It isn’t exactly my secret to tell anybody.” Eddie said with a chill to his voice. “And honestly, even if I could have told you, I wouldn’t have. You have a weird crush on him and the last thing we need is you running off and getting some high stress relationship with a superhero.”

A superhero who isn’t me. Eddie maybe didn’t say it, maybe wasn’t even aware that he’d implied the words at all, but Richie heard them perfectly clear. Richie scoffed, dropping his drink onto the counter and stepping away from the group just slightly. “You don’t really get any say in who I do or don’t like, Eddie. It’s actually none of your business at all.”

“It is if it’s something that’s going to put you in danger, Richie!” Eddie snapped back, hand cutting through the air. A manic gesture of Eddie’s that Richie usually found cute, but could only manage to find irritating in this moment. “You put yourself in harms way enough with this stupid blog and just even knowing me, I would never let you-”

“Let me? Let me?” Richie chuckled humorlessly. “You are not the boss of me, Eddie. You’re not my parents, you’re my boyfriend. So, thank you very much for all the over the top concern about whether or not I’m getting myself into trouble but I’m going to have to politely tell you to mind your fucking business for once in your life.”

Eddie gaped at him, almost forming words before losing them again. The black man who had come into the apartment with Eddie and Stan cleared his throat. “I’m sorry but this seems like a pretty serious personal issue, and we have something important we need to handle, so...”

“Yes.” Eddie said, voice cracking. Richie glanced at him and tried not to let the hint of tears that were pooling in Eddie’s eyes. “Richie, this is Mike Hanlon. You probably know him as-”

“Freezie.” Mike held his hand out and Richie only hesitated for a moment before Mike laughed. “Don’t worry, man. I have to actually want to turn you into ice for it to happen. Though I do have some horror stories when I first started developing my powers, I’m not gonna lie.” 

“Mr Medusa.” Richie said with a grin, gripping Mike’s hand firmly and giving a body moving shake.  Mike gave a laugh while both Stan and Eddie rolled his eyes at his antics. 

“You know how misleading that nickname is, right?” Stan asked dryly. “Mike turns people to ice with his hands, Medusa turned people to stone by looking at them and her head full of snakes. It’s really not even that close of a comparison, it just implies you don’t know anything about Greeky mythology.”

“Excuse me, I’m a gay Gen Z. Of course I fucking know Greek mythology. I read Percy Jackson.” Richie said with a wave of his hand. Stan gaped at him for a moment before Eddie blew the wrapper from Richie’s straw at Richie’s head. 

“He’s also a fucking Ancient Civilization minor.” Eddie said in a mixture of fondness and irritation. “Don’t let him fool you with his stupidity, he’s actually incredibly smart.” 

“Okay, yeah, this is great.” Beverly spoke up suddenly, dropping her shopping bags onto the kitchen counter. “But do you guys wanna tell me what the hell is going on exactly?”

“Yes, I’d like to know, too.” Stan said, taking a seat at the small, banged up wooden table. “Eddie didn’t exactly give much details as he was superhero sprinting around the Starbucks and making like $30 worth of product he didn't pay for.” 

Eddie waved Stan off. “We might be in for a long night.” He said, dropping into the seat beside Stan. Mike and Beverly both moved to take the last two seats around the table and Richie jumped up to sit on top of the table between Eddie and Stan. He maybe positioned himself a little bit closer to Stan, just to watch Eddie’s jaw clench.

“Richie, why don’t you tell everybody what you told me earlier.” Eddie said in his very best teacher voice. 

Richie sighed. “I still think you’re making too big a deal out of this, Eds, really. But basically some guy came up to me in class today, and accused me of running the Spotted! Blog and then told me that  Professor Fly is going to come back tonight.” 

Stan’s head jerked to look at Richie, eyes wide. “That’s impossible. Who told you this?”

Richie shrugged. “I don’t man, some weirdo. Think he said his name was Bill?”

Beverly startled at her seat, knocking one of the coffees to the ground. Everybody turned to look at her and her face had lost nearly all colour. “Uh… did he have a scar running through his eyebrow?” 

“Yeah… how do you know that?” 

Beverly scratched at the side of her neck. “I went on a few dates with him last semester, he's a weird dude. I wouldn’t read too much into this, I’m sure he’s just trying to stir up drama. His brother died when he was young, and he never really got over it.”

A shoulder crossed over Stan’s face and he sighed sadly. “Georgie Denbrough. That was…. A tragedy.” 

Mike and Eddie made matching sympathetic sounds and Richie pulse jumped. “Okay, you all clearly know what the fuck is going on, from your super secret like Justice League meetings or something, but anybody want to catch me up? Who is Georgie Denbrough and what happened to him?”

“Georgie Denbrough was Professor Fly’s biggest shame. His failure as a hero.” Stan said, voice almost completely monotone. “It was just before he started training me to take over for him, I’ve always suspected it was the reason why he was choosing to retire. The Professor was trying to save a group of children from a predator and somehow the battle got really intense. The predator had powers that The Professor hadn’t anticipated, and The Professor’s powers back fired when he tried to catch the man. It caused the building to explode. Most of the children were okay, scrapes and bruises, maybe a broken bone or so, but Georgie Denbrough… He lost an arm in the explosion and he bled out before help could arrive. The boy died and the villain got away. He never really recovered from it.”

“Neither did Bill Denbrough,” Beverly jumped in. “When we were going out, it was pretty much all he talked about. How Professor Fly killed his little brother and ruined Bill’s life. He hates superheroes because of it. He probably doesn't know shit, but at least suspects that Richie knows some heroes and will tell them what he said. It’s a set up.”

Stan nodded. “There’s no way The Professor is going to be out tonight. Nothing would pull him out of retirement, trust me.”

Eddie rubbed his hands together. “Maybe.” He said shortly. “But we don’t know that it’s a trap for us. It’s possible this Bill guy has something planned tonight to try and bring Professor Fly out. We can’t risk people getting hurt because we don’t know what this guy's plan is. I think we should have all hands on deck tonight if we can.”

“Eddie’s right.” Mike said. “Even if it is a trap for us, we agreed to this sort of risk when we started acting as heroes. We knew what we were getting into, we can’t just sit around and do nothing when lives are at risk. Best case scenario, this Bill guy is full of shit and just running his mouth and nothing happens but we need to prepare for the worst.”

“I can’t imagine him going so far out of his way to figure out who’s running that blog just for it to be nothing.” Stan said quietly. 

“Maybe that’s part of the plan,” Richie jumped in. “He wanted me to post about Professor Fly’s return, probably to lure out people and heroes to whatever it was he was going to do. Maybe if I don’t post it then he’ll just drop the whole thing because he’s not getting the audience that he wants.”

“You should post it.” Beverly said suddenly, using some of the shitty dollar store dish cloths to wipe up the spilled coffee all over the floor. A large round of disagreement spread out amongst the heroes until Bev held her hand up for quiet. “I might not know much about this whole superhero world, or whatever, but how are you supposed to catch this guy if he doesn’t go through with his plan? You can’t exactly go after somebody for figuring out that Richie is caught up with superheroes.”

Eddie muttered something under his breath that sounded a lot like “I can fucking try” but none of the heroes had any sort of argument against Beverly’s claims. 

“Spotted! Isn't a gossip column!” Richie cried, tossing his hands in the air, nearly taking Stan’s eye out. “I’m not posting some unfounded bullshit about Professor Fly and killing my brand for this Bill dude’s fucking vandetta.”

“Your blog’s brand is more important to you than saving lives?” Mike asked, giving Richie big, sad puppy eyes.

“We don’t know it’ll save lives!” Richie argued. “For all we know, sending out a blast could be what gets people killed. If you think we should all go out and keep on eye on stuff, then fine but-”

“Whoa, whoa!” Eddie cut him off quickly. “What do you mean we? You’re not coming with us if we go out there, Richie. You and Bev aren’t leaving this apartment tonight, you could be a target!”

“YOU’RE NOT MY BOSS!” Richie leapt off the table and stalked away from Eddie, hands trembling at his sides. “I’m so sick of you telling me what I can and can’t do! You can’t control me, Eddie.”

Eddie’s head jerked back as though it had been slapped, and a wounded look crossed his face that Richie wouldn’t let himself feel bad about. “I’m not trying to control you, Richard. I’m trying to keep you safe.”

“Oh, really?” Richie laughed. “So, you making a point not to tell me you knew who FlyBoy was when you were under the impression I might have a crush on him wasn’t you keeping me safe, and not at all you not wanting me to date somebody that isn’t you.”

Eddie stood up and walked around to where Richie was standing angrily behind the counter. He didn’t touch him but his hands hovered just above Richie’s arms. “I didn’t tell you who FlyBoy was because it's a secret identity for a reason. It’s not like it was really my place to SAY anything to you about it, alright? You can date whoever the fuck you want, obviously, because I didn’t stop you from going on those dates with Connor Whathisfuck last year and I hated that guy so much it actually burned my soul. I want you to be happy, okay? I’d never stop you from dating somebody. Stan is right there if you wanna go ask him out right now, you pleeb.” 

Richie glanced over Eddie’s shoulders at where the people around the table were all staring at them. Stan wrinkled up his nose. “Please don’t.”

Richie rolled his eyes and snorted. “Don’t worry, Stan my Man. If I’d known FlyBoy was somebody as boring as you, I wouldn’t have dedicated so much time to him in the first place.” 

Richie tried to ignore Eddie’s relieved sigh in his ear. 

Eddie didn’t budge on his statement that Richie and Beverly would be staying behind at their apartment, as Richie didn’t budge his refusal to post false information on this blog. “If you want me to make some sort of announcement, it has to be something true. That’s just how it is.”

“You could post about seeing the three of us teaming up.” Mike suggested as Richie was really just focusing on not looking at his bare chest as he changed into his suit. “That will be enough to get the public's attention and let this Bill Denbrough know we’re taking him seriously without having to leak false information about Professor Fly.”

Richie nodded in agreement as Eddie padded over him to his little tight red spandex supersuit. Richie’s breath caught as it always did when he saw Eddie as Captain Fast. “Don’t say anything until you’re sure we’re a decent way away from the apartment. Just because somebody figured out that you run the blog doesn’t mean that we should be leading towards the place you live. Play it safe, Rich.” 

“Yeah, yeah.” Richie waved it off, but they both knew at the end of the day even as much as Richie fought it, he was going to follow Eddie’s advice. As the group moved towards the front door, Eddie suddenly spun around and grabbed hold of Richie’s waist. He tugged him into a tight hug, pressing his face against Richie’s shoulder.

“Please, please, be careful, Rich.” Eddie whispered into Richie’s body. “I have a really bad feeling.”

“Yeah, Eds. I’ll be careful.” Richie squeezed Eddie tightly until the other man pulled back. There was a split second where Richie was certain that Eddie was about to lean in for a kiss. The moment broke as Eddie’s cheeks turned pink and he looked away. He pulled the matching red mask over his eyes and followed the rest of Mike and Stan from the apartment. 

Richie wallowed in his poor, confused little gay heart for roughly ten minutes before he took out his phone and sent out the blast. 

Spotted! What must be the coolest new trio in NYC: FlyBoy, Captain Fast and Freezie heading out on the town. Is this just a  (super)mans night out- or is something much more sinister in the works for not so little city? I think we can all only wait and see. This blogger advises his readers to stay home tonight, and keep an eye on the news and little old me for your updates.

Richie didn’t even have a chance to put his phone back into his pocket before Beverly was stomping into the room and tossing a black hoodie over his head. He pulled it away and caught sight of Beverly with her red hair tied up in a long red, curly ponytail. She wore black jeans and black tank top that showed off a black triangle tattoo on her left arm. She raised her brow and nodded at him. “Hurry up, get into something dark and let’s go.”

“I didn’t know you had a tattoo.” Richie said slowly. 

“There’s a lot of things you don’t know about me.” Beverly said. “Now hurry up and let's go. We have stuff we have to do.”

“I told Eddie I was gonna stay in the apartment.” Richie said, fidgeting with the fabric of the hoodie in his hands. “I think we-”

“I thought Eddie wasn’t the boss of you.” Beverly said, cocking her brow. Richie’s face burned as he tugged the plain back sweater over his head and put his feet back into messy converse sneakers. Beverly was already halfway down the hallway before Richie was even out of the apartment’s door. When they exited the stairway into the lobby, there was a man waiting there in matching all black outfit with the same triangle tattoo on his left arm. He had thick muscled arms, but chubby cheeks and wide eyes that seemed to still hold onto some sort of childhood innocence. 

Beverly pressed a quick kiss to his lips and Richie blinked. I didn’t know you had a boyfriend. The words died on Richie’s tongue as a weird feeling overcame him in that moment. “Richie, this is Ben. Ben, Richie.”

Ben held his hand out and Ben’s shake was warm and firm. Somehow Richie felt like his skin was crawling as Beverly pressed her hands between Richie’s shoulder blades and began to push him out towards the front of the building. 

“I uh” Richie cleared his throat, heart hammering in his chest. “Where are we going? Eddie’s probably right that we should stay inside, we don’t know what’s going to happen.”

“Don’t be such a chicken shit.” Beverly grinned at him, and Richie shivered as a chill rushed through his spine. “Aren’t you at all curious about what might be going on? Come on, it’ll be fine. It’s not like we’re actually a target for anything. Denbrough was probably just trying to use you for your site.”

Immediately, Richie had been curious- almost morbidly so. Until this very moment when all he wanted to do was run back to his apartment and spend the rest of the night hiding under his blankets. But Richie Tozier had never been very good at trusting himself or any of his instincts, and he allowed Beverly and Ben to guide him into the black car parked out front. 

Then didn’t drive far, and pulled up to some sort of abandoned warehouse. Every couple of seconds there was a flash of light from inside the cracked and shattered glass windows. Richie’s breath started catching in his throat with every attempt to breathe. “What- where are we?”

Beverly turned to where Richie was trying to fade into the back seat of the car, and looked almost sad. “I’m sorry, Rich. It wasn’t supposed to go this way.” 

xxx

Eddie actually hated wearing spandex, but it was an incredibly durable fabric. With the amount of moving he did, it was the most logical choice in costume. But Eddie was never truly comfortable when in costume.

“If I ask you something, could you answer without getting bitchy?” Stan suddenly whispered in his ear. He, Mike and Eddie had only reached the main core of the Lower West Side. Eddie turned to him and narrowed his eyes as best as he could home to do with a mask covering half his face. “Do you ever think of giving it up? Hanging up your suit and just being a normal person. Letting yourself really love Richie?” 

Eddie’s face burned nearly the colour of the suit. He spent the better part of the last two years trying not to think about how he was in love with Richie Tozier and in the last three years, it was the only thing at the front of his mind. “I try not to think about it, honestly, because it’s not an option. I didn’t choose to have these powers, or this life. But as long as I have them, I have to do the right thing. I don’t have a choice.”

“I don’t know.” Stan said slowly. “I think you should be able to do what’s best for you. You deserve to be happy.”

“I’m happy enough.” Eddie lied. “Do you think we should split up and cover more ground?”

“Yeah.” Mike jumped in as the conversation changed back into the professional task at hand. “Especially since we don’t really know what the situation is, so keep your ear pieces in and buzz into the others if you come across anything.” 

“Alright,” Stan agreed, though he shot Eddie a this isn’t over look from the corner of his eye. “Eddie and I have a much easier way to travel, so Mike you can stay in this area.” Stan and Eddie agreed on their own sections of the general NYU area- the area that had always been protected by Professor Fly in the height of his career- and Eddie took off running. Eddie had always loved running, and it was the only part of being a hero that he still enjoyed. Sometimes, on nights when Eddie just couldn’t be bothered to care, he’d just run for miles. Just see how far he could go. He’d reached the Canadian border once before he decided it was a waste of his gift. 

Eddie slowed down into a simple walk once he reached his section of town, when somebody reached out and grabbed hold of Eddie’s arm. Eddie gasped at the feeling of utter desperation that sort through him belonging to the person who touched him. A pair of icy blue eyes under a scarred eyebrow met Eddie’s and Eddie’s heart leapt right into his mouth.

“What are you doing here?” Bill Denbrough demanded. “You’re not supposed to be here! Didn’t Richie tell you about my warning?”

“Your- your warning?” Eddie squawked. “So, you tracking him down and telling him some bogus tip about Professor Fly was supposed to be a warning? A warning of what- that you’re insane?” 

Denbrough shook his head, brown hair falling into his head. “No. No.” He said desperately, nails digging into Eddie’s skin. “Professor Fly would never return, FlyBoy would know that. Didn’t you tell FlyBoy? It’s a trap, you were all supposed to stay home! You’re all in danger!” 

Eddie tried to pull his arm free but Denbrough’s grip was too tight. “You’re hurting me!” Eddie cried, chest starting to feel the too familiar pressure of an asthma attack- though he hadn’t one a single one since his powers had come in. 

“I k-k-know you have more powers than just sp-speed.” Denbrough said, stepping even further into Eddie’s space and grabbing hold of his other arm. “You can s-s-sense me, r-right? You’ll no-no-know if I’m d-dan-dangerous!” 

Eddie felt a lot of things about Bill Denbrough. Guilt, fear, desperation. There was something bleak and sad under the surface but there was no hint of a threat to him. “What do you want?” Eddie asked in a shaking voice.

Bill Denbrough’s eyes darted around Eddie. “Where’s R-R-Richie? Is he w-w-ith you? Where is h-he?”

“He’s safe.” Eddie promised even as his own heart stuttered and panicked. “He’s back at his apartment with his roommate, they’re both-”

Bill’s eyes widened in horror. “NO! No, you can’t t-t-t-t-fuck- trust Beverly! She’s n-n-not who you think she is!” 

Eddie started shaking his head. “No offence, but I’ve known Beverly for a year and I’ve only known you five minutes and you seem pretty unhinged. Why should I believe you when you say I can’t trust her, if I have no reason to trust you?”

“Have you ever tou-tou-touched her?” Bill demanded. “In the yuh-year you’ve known her, ha-have your body ev-ever even graze-grazed hers?” Eddie opened his mouth but froze. “No. It ha-hasn’t. I know it ha-hasn’t, be-because she knows if you ha-had ever tou-touched her, you’d kn-know the truth about her. And everything would have been ru-ruined.”

Eddie shook his head. “What’s she going to do to him?”

Bill frowned. “This wuh-wuh-wasn’t the plu-plan. I don’t- there’s only one place s-sh-she’d take him. But you have to tr-tr-trust me.”

It wasn’t in Eddie’s nature to be particularly trusting, and Bill wasn’t exactly somebody who was inspiring much benefit of the doubt. But his hands were still digging into Eddie’s arms and the only thing Eddie could sense was fear and deeper down- guilt that Eddie suspected he felt at all times. “Okay.” Eddie said, and as Bill let go of him, Eddie flicked on this ear piece’s speaker. 

Bill didn’t lead Eddie too far away, the pair of them travelling in silence and Eddie secretly wishing that Bill would simply tell him where the location was so Eddie could run there. If something happened to Richie while Eddie was wasting his time walking, he’d never forgive himself. Eventually, Bill led him over to the warehouse with lights that flashed through broken windows. He could make out figures walking around inside as he and Bill attempted to sneak into the warehouse without being noticed. 

There was a large glass sphere in the middle of the room, surrounded by what looked like burn white lightning that occasionally sparked brighter and caused the room to brighten as though large fluorescent lights flicked on overhead. Richie was seated a few feet away on the floor, bound against a large cement pillar that connected all the way up to the ceiling. He appeared unharmed, if not mildly annoyed. Eddie’s heart raced all the same Beverly and a man Eddie didn’t recognize both paced around the same space.

“Billy…” Beverly came to a full stand still. Bill froze at Eddie’s side. “There’s no need to sneak around. Come out, we have a lot to talk about, don’t we?”

Bill pressed a single finger against his lips, before turning and stepping out of the shadows. “You’re m-may-making a big m-m-mistake, Beverly. He’s n-n-n-not who he says he is.”

“I think you’re the one who’s not who he says he is.” Beverly said, turning around and facing Bill with her arms crossed. “Going behind our backs and telling Richie some crap about Professor Fly? Bringing your existence to his attention? You forced our hand, Billy. Mr Scratch isn’t going to be pleased.”

“He-He’s not guh-good, Bev!” Bill cried, hands clutched at his side. “What do you th-th-think he’s going to do with it wuh-wuh-when he gets it? He-He’s puh-playing you both!”

“He is not!” Beverly cried. “He’s going to do exactly what told us! Why did you have to go and fuck up the plan?”

“Excuse me!” Richie cried, voice dripping with sarcasm. “But if I’m going to be killed, can you guys at least do me the decency of letting me know what you’re talking about in my final moments.”

“You’re not going to die.” Beverly’s male friend said softly. “Nobody is going to get hurt.”

“You’re a fuh-fool if you buh-believe that, Ben!” Bill said, taking steps closer into the room. “Richie, this mach-machine has the ab-ability tr-train a super-superhero of their p-p-powers. Mr Scr-scratch hates heroes and he-”

“Like you’re any better!” Beverly shouted over Bill’s explanation. “You’ve been with him longer than either of us! Heroes killed your brother, you hate them just as much as the rest of us. Maybe ever more! They ruined all our lives!” Beverly turned towards Richie and took a few steps towards him. “I lost my parents when I was little. My father was an awful man, he chased my mother away when I was only six. He died when I was 11, and my aunt took me in. For two years, I experienced happiness for the first time. I loved my aunt and she loved me, took care of me for the first time since I could remember anything. She was a good person, and superheroes came and ripped my only true family apart. My aunt took into selling drugs after she adopted me, just to get ends to meet. She wasn’t proud of it, but she did what she had to do for me. She was smart, she never would have been caught if the superheroes minded their own business and let police handle things. A bunch of hyped up vigilanties took my aunt away from me, and I went into foster care. I was only 13. When I was 17, Mr Scratch found me. Told me there were others like me, who wanted to even the playing field.”

“By killing all the superheroes?” Richie asked, voice breaking. “Beverly, you have to admit that sounds fucking insane!” 

“It isn’t going to kill them.” Ben added. “The Deadlight doesn’t kill them, it only drains them of their supernatural abilities. Makes them human, normal. Just like everybody else.” 

Richie scoffed, in higher octaves than regular voices. “And then what happens to their powers? They just what? Evaporate?” 

“They’ll be trapped in the Deadlight.” Ben answered. “Forever. No more superheroes.”

“You’re an i-idiot.” Bill said coldly. “Sc-Scratch is obviously going to tuh-take the powers! Guh-get rid of the sue-supers and make himself invisible. Undefeatable.”

“You’re full of shit.” Beverly snapped. “He wouldn’t do that! We’re not evil, or some fucking supervillain cult! All we want in equality! We’d never use any of these powers against anybody!”

 “You two wouldn’t.” Bill said darkly. “I’ve wuh-wuh-wondered if he was really who he suh-said he was for- a luh-long time. But I suh-saw plans in his uh-office. About how to ruh-ruh-reverse the Deadlights. He’s guh-gonna take the puh-powers for him-himself.” 

“You’re a fucking liar!” Beverly screamed. “He wouldn’t do that! He-” 

A suddenly crashing brought Beverly’s screams to a halt. The doors busted open and Stan dropped in, with Mike leaping off his back. Beverly took a step backwards, eyes open wide and Ben moved over to stand almost directly in front of Richie. 

“Where’s Eddie?” Mike demanded, glancing around the room. Eddie cringed and slapped a hand over his forehead, as Beverly and Ben exchanged a shocked expression. Richie looked around wildly, with huge, terrified eyes.

Beverly crossed her arms and looked back to the same shadows that Bill had appeared from. “Okay, Eds. You can come out.”

“Don’t call me that.” Eddie said sharply as he stepped out as well.

“Eddie…” Richie said a quiet, almost broken voice. Eddie tried to give him a reassuring look, but he knew that Richie would be able to see his own fear underneath the attempt. 

Beverly sighed and rolled her eyes. “Alright, this isn’t exactly how I planned on tonight going, though I have to say I did expect to see you all here after I took Richie.”

“Let him go.” Eddie said furiously. “He doesn’t have powers, he isn’t part of this. Let him go.”

Beverly smiled sadly. “No can do, sorry. Richie is actually a key factor to this whole mission. Why do you think I’ve been so encouraging of his little blog? He’s a natural talent, and he’s been so helpful in our acquiring the true identities of these so-called heroes.”

Eddie glanced at Richie, who looked like he might be physically ill. All Eddie wanted to do was rush over and wrap Richie in his arms and keep him safe, but he couldn’t show that weakness in this moment.

“We found Richie through you, though, Eddie.” Beverly said, looking almost… amused. “We didn’t know who you were, but Richie was at most of your scenes and we figured that he knew you. It was Big Bill’s idea that one of befriend him, and figure out what he knows. Does it sting a little, knowing you gave your future with Richie to protect him but you lead us to him anyway?” 

It more than stung, it burned. Eddie’s entire body felt like it was vibrating as he stood there, staring down at women he’d thought of as a friend for more than a year. A woman who’d been living under the same roof as Richie, but wanting only to use him and potentially cause him harm. 

“Oh, Eddie, don’t look like that.” Beverly said, sounding almost genuinely upset. “I already said we aren't gonna hurt him. Nobody is going to get hurt, Bill is just- I don’t even know what he’s trying to do.”

“I’m trying to wa-warn you!” Bill cried. “You’re buh-bluh-blinded stupid but your own luh-loyalty that you cant’ see the uh-aub-obvious truth in fr-fruh-front of you!!”

“This was your cause!” Ben came quickly to Beverly’s defence. “You hate superheroes maybe more than anybody! How can you say this wasn’t what you wanted?”

Bill’s jaw clenched and his bottom lip trembled. “I… I wanted the h-her-heroes gone. But I duh-didn’t want anybody to guh-get their powers and uh-use them for them-themselves.”

“You’re the only person who's acting like that’s going to happen.” Ben snapped. Eddie thought this was his moment, the first time he’d been able to see a true path of entrance. Everybody’s eyes were torn between Bill and Ben, this could be Eddie’s chance to get over to Richie and free him. Eddie, maybe for the first time in his life, misjudged his position. 

Beverly’s hands collided hard with Eddie’s chest, the strength of her anger and resentment hitting him hard and shocking him to his core. He understood now more than ever why Beverly hadn’t made the mistake of touching Eddie in the year they’ve known one another. He may not have felt any true evil inside her, like he had felt in many a foe before, and there was still a lingering of a sad, scared little girl at her core but none of the vibes she was giving to him at this moment was reassuring. He would have kept her far away from Richie, he would have figured out enough about her, and this plan would never have worked.

Beverly taking Eddie by utter surprise had given her even more of an advantage. He knocked Eddie backwards and he stumbled backwards, crashing directly into the Deadlight. An electric charge drove through every nerve in his body and he was thrown across the empty warehouse by a bolt of white lightning. He heard Richie scream his name, but it was like a buzzing deep in the back of his mind. 

The harsh impact to the hard ground jarred Eddie back into himself, though a small bit dazed. He’d landed not far from where Richie was tied up. He shuffled backwards, groaning as the oddest sensation of discomfort shot through his body, but he didn’t stop until he could rest his head against Richie’s knee. 

“Holy shit, Eds!” Richie gasped, fighting against his bindings even as it shook Eddie’s resting head. “How the fuck are you alive right now? You just got yeeted across the room by lightning!” 

Eddie grumbled as he reached blindly behind their bodies to untie Richie’s bondings. It must have been a testament to how shocking the last few moments had been as nobody attempted to stop them. Richie winced and rubbed at his hands for a moment before reaching out and cupping Eddie’s face. Eddie smiled as his eyes flushed shut and he leaned into the touch. 

“Are you okay?” Richie said in a low voice. It wasn’t quite a whisper, Richie never actually whispered, but it was soft and worried and so full of love that Eddie felt he might cry. 

“Yeah.” Eddie said back. “I’m okay. Promise promise.” 

Richie’s face broke into a relieved grin and pressed a hard kiss to Eddie’s voice. Maybe it had been the actual bolt of lightning that had just gone through Eddie’s body, but it felt so charged that Eddie even let out a small gasp. Then it all hit him and his eyes blew open wide. “Richie, I can’t feel you.”

“What? You can’t feel anything?” Richie asked in a panic. 

“No!” Eddie cried, shifting to sit up properly and grabbing Richie’s hands to tangle them together. “I can’t feel your spirit, your mood. It’s like… before.”

Richie and Eddie turned in unison to look at the Deadlight. The others all turned to follow their lead. It seemed to be glowing brighter, the lightning revolving around it faster. Eddie’s powers now fueling it. 

“Holy shit.” Mike said at the same time Beverly gasped. “It works.”

“Of course it works,” a deep voice came as a man in a long black cloak appeared out of nowhere. “You doubted me, Beverly? Thank you, you’ve all played your roles perfectly.” Bill startled as the man- Mr Scratch- turned to him and grinned. “Oh yes, even you Dear Bill. I always knew that your moral compass would bring you to betray me. I accounted for the variable since the beginning of our time together.”

As Mr Scratch moved around the circle, Beverly stepped out of his way as though she didn’t even notice she was doing it. She collided with Bill’s torso, and the man reached out to grab at her hand. She didn’t pull away from the touch, pale and shaking as she watched Mr Scratch rounded on the group.

“Stanley.” Mr Scratch said in a slow voice, grin spreading across his face. Stan was standing still as a statue, fists tightened even as tears filled his eyes. “You know who I am already, I can see it all over your face. Well, I never doubted your intelligence. Go ahead and tell them, there’s no need to keep it a secret amongst old friends.”

“Robert Gray.” Stan said through a clenched jaw. A single tear slipped from his ear and trailed down his cheek. “Professor Fly.”

Richie gasped and squeezed Eddie’s hand tightener. Ben stumbled away and crashed into the cement pillar that Richie had just been tied up against. Mike looked at Stan in shock as Beverly slapped a hand over her mouth. Bill pushed past her, rage evident as his face. “YOU MOTHERFUCKER-”

Gray  barely even flicked his wrist and Bill soared off his feet and slammed up against a pillar, easily twenty feet off the ground. “Stupid boy.” Gray said fondly. “You will never be a match for me, and you’ll never outsmart me. I have been planning this moment for nearly a decade. Your brother’s death started a fire that will destroy the entire world of supers as we know it.” 

Bill struggled against the invisible hold Gray had against him, Richie turning his head away from the scene and pressing his face against Eddie’s neck. Eddie could feel how Richie’s hands were shaking where they were connected.

“None of you are giving me enough credit.” Gray said in a bored tone. “Do you have any idea how much work I had to put into this entire thing? I didn’t just have to create the Deadlights, I had to hand pick every single person who would help me. Bill was a no brainer, even as I knew I could never trust him fully. Beverly and Ben had to be vulnerable enough that they would never question me, and that Bill would never feel confident in telling them what he’d figured out.”

“You left the pl-pl-pla-”

“Yes.” Gray interrupted. “I left the plans out on purpose. Haven’t you figured that I don’t leave anything to chance, William? I accounted for every possible outcome. I had to choose Stan very carefully, choose an heir that would follow my orders but never question me when I told him I could not be contacted after I retire. That I would simply never return.” 

Stan turned away bitterly, trying to wipe at the tears on his as inconspicuously as he possibly could. 

“Even after that, I had to pull so many strings. Made sure that Richie and Stan would cross paths, had to let Beverly believe that Richie’s silly little blog was her idea to let them both feel important.” He shot Eddie a slimey grin. “Had to make sure that Richie got caught in that hostage situation just after they moved to NYC so Eddie wouldn’t consider their relationship worth Richie’s life and end things, so there would be space for Beverly to make her move on Richie. I will admit I was hoping that Richie would fall in love with her, but I underestimated his love for Eddie. A small loss, but nothing damaging to the overall scheme.”

Eddie’s body thrummed with rage. Richie had nightmares for a year after that fucking bank heist, and this man had done that to them on purprose for the simply purpose of breaking them up? Richie still had panic attacks and made Eddie or Bev go with him if he needed to do any sort of banking he couldn’t do online. 

“You said nobody was going to be hurt.” Beverly said, tears streaming down her face. “You said- you said you wanted to even the playing field! You’re a monster!”

“Nobody will be hurt.” Gray said. “You will all be free to go, once all the supers have touched the Deadlight and given up their powers. You’ll all be able to go on with your lives, and I will be able to go on with mine. Once your powers are gone, you’ll have no reason to oppose me and I will have no reason to bother you again.”

Beverly and Ben stood directly in front of the Deadlight, the pain on their faces from the flashing bursts of lightning behind them. Stan was staring directly at Gray, face a mask of rage even as tears fell from his eyes. Richie hadn’t moved from where he’d hidden himself against Eddie.

“You killed my brother on purpose.” Bill said from above them. He was still fighting against Gray’s grip. 

For the first time, Gray’s composure slipped. “No.” He said shortly. “That was a tragic accident. That moment changed me forever. It was when I realized that all of those with powers, even myself, were capable of death and destruction. That we were all inherently evil. The day, I knew that I could not allow another person to hold such powers over another being again. You know, Billy- your brother is the reason for all of this. He gave his life for the new world order-”

Bill let out an intelligible scream but Gray could so much as speak, Mike Hanlon had launched himself from the crowd and latched himself onto Gray’s back. Eddie watched with mouth gape as Gray struggled against the hold before clear blue ice began to spread across his body in a matter of seconds. As the ice completely covered Gray, Bill began to free fall. Stan didn’t waste a single moment before launching up into the sky and catching Bill mid-fall and lowering them both to the ground. He let go of Bill as they touched down and rushed over to Eddie and Richie, one hand finding its way into Richie’s hair and the other falling on top of their joined hands.

“That’s the trick to villains.” Mike said, not even sounding out of breath. “You gotta get ‘em while they’re monologuing.” 

Beverly, face hard, stepped forward and kicked at Gray’s frozen chest. He tittered and fell backwards, shattering into pieces as he hit the ground. “I think it’s safe to say he didn’t account for those variables.” 

They were quiet for a long moment, Stan helping Richie and Eddie to their feet and holding onto them as they all moved towards the shattered ice pieces in the middle of the room. Even in the chilly night, they could see the beginning signs of melting.

“We nn-n-need to d-d-estory this fucking thing.” Bill said suddenly, all of them turning towards the Deadlight. Hums of agreement moved through the room. 

“Wait.” Richie said, tightening his hold on Eddie’s waist. “You said that the powers could be taken out right? We need to get Eddie’s powers back!”

“Oh, yeah!” Bill said quickly. “I- I’ll s-s-see if I can find the instructions ag-again.”

Do you ever think of giving it up? Hanging up your suit and just being a normal person. Letting yourself really love Richie?

“Wait.” Eddie said, throwing out a hand. “Don’t. I don’t want them back.”

Every eye in the room turned to him, Stan smiling even as tears still hung in his eyes. “I never wanted them,” Eddie carried on. “I didn’t want to be some hero, saving people. I wanted to run track and fix cars and be with my love of my life.”

Richie turned slowly, eyes wide and painfully hopeful. “Eddie, don’t do this for shit for me. Please, okay, I-”

“I’m not doing it for you.” Eddie turned and slid his arms around Richie’s shoulders. “I’m doing it for me. I don’t need these bullshit powers. I can run perfectly fine with my own two normal feet, and I would love to be able to touch a person without knowing their moral count or pick up something in somebodys house without knowing if its fucking haunted or not.”

Richie chuckled wetly.

“And I love you so much.” Eddie continued. “And all I want is to be with you, it’s all I’ve ever wanted since the fucking sixth grade. I’m tired of loving each other and being forced apart and just hurting each other over and over. Especially over these stupid powers I was cursed with. I don’t want them back. I wanna be with you and I wanna be happy.”

Richie ducked down and pressed his lips against Eddie’s. This time Eddie knew the sparks that seemed to shoot through him was no lightning shot- just love. 

Spotted! FlyBoy, Captain Fly and Freezie teaming up with three civilians and your truly to foil a truly evil plan, saving not just our city but possibly our entire world. (Eyewitnesses may claim that Freezie did all the work, but that remains to be proven.) And in case you missed it, there was an epic conclusion to an equally epic love story. You know what they say, all’s well that ends great… or however the saying goes!

[likemymask]

One Piece Daemon AU

Presented with only slight spelling corrections and some elaborations, the mess of a One Piece Daemon/His Dark Materials AU that would not leave me alone and would only let me work on it at 1-3AM.

Also now I’m writing snippets for it just like my Gundam Wing and Star Trek daemon AU. Because.

Luffy: sea king with Conqueror Haki so they can’t be controlled. Separated but not because that’s as free as you can get. Fuck yea, she’s in north blue chilling the fuck out (heh) half the time and being absolutely chaotic as shit the other half. Her attitude is diametrically opposed to what Luffy is doing at the time. LOL she runs/swims into Shanks when Luffy’s still barely a pirate so he has no idea (not that the marines do either) one time. This 2000ft tall monster is squinting at him, and he thinks he’s about to get ate and then she goes “oh you’re so much smaller now!” Cause of course she spent her formative years as a baby version of his daemon. The entire crew is goddamn losing it, cause what kind of monster is this that even Red Hair’s Haki can’t control it, until Shanks yells out her name and then everyone loses it further still. I have decided Eastern dragon aesthetic but water/earth theme as opposed to Kaido’s air/fire theme. Still blue, but blue-green, tiger stripes cause camoflage and also badass and maybe she settles after Luffy meets Zoro’s daemon *whistles*

Zoro: tiger obviously normal colors or green and black cause why the fuck not, Zoro is not into stealth really. ”The only one who can call me stupid is me. “ “.....stupid” Cat vs sword fight ensues. Can be found cuddling Chopper when Zoro’s tired, super sloshed, both.

Nami: monkey? Lemur: small, fast, quick hands, caring but only when you prove you deserve it. Absolutely torments Zoro’s when she’s pissed because tigers can’t normally climb fucking main masts but a) she parkours and b) when has that ever stopped Zoro/her? Likes to hang out in the tree grove, absolutely pick pockets people while Nami plays distraction.

Robin: cat some kind of cat not big CARACAL. Looks aloof but absolutely ready to be ridiculous at any opportunity.

Franky: dog or dolphin. Something excitable loyal ready to throw down Newfoundland? Big, friendly, over-excitable, likes water and sailing...yes.

Usopp: Corvid or monkey; curious, intelligent, stubborn, inventive, tool solving/using. Lives in groups/troops and cares for others. Probably corvid, too similar to Nami otherwise. Crow most likely.

Sanji: swan. Black, and absolutely a viper and very sorry about Sanji’s attitude towards woman cause she’s more refined about it. Same intensity though. Will bite the shit out of you. Tiger vs swan fight, GO. Do also groom each other though cause human affectionate displays are stupid sometimes.

Fishmen don’t have daemons its another conflict and excuse for racism.

Law: wolf but like starved and Eurasian crazy with it. LONG leggos. Spiky black fur around the head, grey black white speckled cause T R A U M A

Ace: was a fire hawk, no actual fire but red as hell and BIG tail and wings. Her species not liked on most islands cause they don’t leave once they’re settled. They stand their ground. More angst ha ha. Never met settled Luffys daemon because I’M A MONSTER.

Sabo: never settled until he learned Ace was dead and then she settled as fire hawk because trauma and angst and also he knows who he is now. Not being settled was useful for a while when he did infiltration etc but now they’re both happy/sad about it.

Garp. Big dog. Bull mastiff dog. Not good with kids only with attacking things and defending but very loyal. Also big. “ Bullmastiffs are also difficult even for adults to control, so they aren’t a good choice if your child wants to help walk the dog. They like to please and crave attention, but they’re so big that even a well-intentioned nudge can end up hurting small children. ” HMMMMM RINGS A BELL, THIS DOES

Chopper: also no daemon or if so then monkey because HANDS. OH BOI THAT MUST HAVE BEEN A FUN THING. EAT SOME FRUIT, WAKE UP WITH A SOUL. Wait no people think he’s a pet. No daemon then.

Mihawk: literally whatever Shank’s daemon is he insists this is why they’re friends while Mihawk wine aunts in the background. He’s more refined though than Shanks and his soul (this is not a challenge). Like absolutely cold as ice until he cracks a pun, but no one believes the victim cause no way Mihawk would do that. Soooo proud, regal, loyal but willing to have a good time. Some kind of dog or cat. Big and fast and POWER. Could do big cat to be more like Zoro or a dog/canid to foil it. Maned wolf?

Vivi: it’s lazy to say her bird Caracue I can’t spell it’s one am but imma do it. KAROO HOW THE FUCK DID I MISSPELL THAT.

Crocodile: big fuck off alligator cause fuck you that’s why. HOLY FUCK I FORGOT HE HAD THE BANANA ONES IN HIS CASINO THAT’S GREAT

Logias turn to same element so Ace’s daemon is now a literal actual fire hawk, fuck the history books I’m writing this shit.

Don fuck face Flamingo: is what it is but like Kipo And the Age of Wonderbeasts it got TEETH, cause anything that survived acid water and shit is not cool. In fact, you know what, she’s albino and thinks that makes her special, honey you just don’t got shrimp vitamins, you buffoon of a bird.

All the dino Zoans are modern descendant of those animals so chickens. Or birds. Chickens would be so goddamn funny especially the 3 foot tall fluffy ones...fuck what’re they called(Brahmas). Oh wait. Emus. Ohhhhhhh fuck emus as an option.

Mammoth Zoan can have a Mammoth daemon because I want to see that on a ship.

(Makino) Bartender lady I can’t remember her name starts with m capybara cause she’s chill as shit and friend shaped. 

Dadan: is not friend shaped but is friend. Big fuck off bear or buffalo or wildebeest

Brooke: Laboon, Lampoon whatever Moby Dick. There’s some trauma, they had to leave him, but they didn’t want to and Brooke offered to stay but Laboon thought he’d be fine. Spoiler alert He Is Not. No one is fine.

Ohhhhhhh fuck bad good idea: Rogers daemon also a Sea King but the marines never goddamn figured it out, hoooooo my gods Shanks is having goddamn flashbacks. 

Momo and Kaido both have Eastern dragon daemons cause fake fruit.mythical zoan fruit but Momos is the size of a gecko and black so she’s hide-able. Kaido’s isn’t as big but is still Fuck Off huge. Red because I said so. 

Beastmen also do not have daemons because fuck the amount of significant characters in One Piece

Cora(zon): also had a wolf, because yay trauma and repeats and trauma bonding!But she was like, pretty yellow white and dog-ish up until the moment she ripped your throat out for offending her/harming her pack. Law learned much from her about appearances, being underestimated, and then for the most part did the exact opposite.

Slime man: *Aka Trebol* has a hagfish cause fuck him and Doflamingo

Boa: her snake weapon thing. Big noodley boy. The skull is for A E S T H E T I C

   Ace's daemon named Picaro: Spanish for naughty/badly behaved and that is a synonym for rogue cause MOMMA'S BOI and I keep misreading Rouge as rogue cause PIRATES, and this way it's a little better than naming the fire hawk Red though Ace does call her that sometimes .          You know what, he has the same daemon as Rouge/mom actually cause stubborn enough to not go into labor for 20 months is bonkers and that shit deserves recognition. Also because FUCK the number of characters in One Piece.              Celestial Dragons don't have special daemons but they do splice/separate cause they're fuckers that's why              AU of AU        Luffy's daemon close enough to WRECK MARINEFORD'S SHIT THAT'S RIGHT BABEY ACE LIVES, ASL REUNION AND SUCH          Sabo's daemon settles as a dog but one of the CRAZY breeds, like poodle or husky.

AU OF AU PART TWO: originally when thinking about a One Piece daemon AU Luffy was gonna have a cheetah; long, fast, use recoil to increase speed and change directions, males live in groups with their brothers and are highly affectionate. Tendency to run into walls. Has a fur pattern presentation named King Cheetah, looks like a more Armament Haki version.

[bits-bobs-and-barnes]

Corrupted Heart {Quentin Beck x Stark!Reader}

Warnings: kidnapping, mentions of alcohol and swearing, restraints, the slightest hint of non-con (but no nasty yet ;0)

{Author’s Note: Another new character! I hope you like this concept and how I portrayed Beck! Leave me feedback, or ask to be tagged! Like and reblog if you liked the fic, and help my blog! Enjoy!}

Tags: @legendsaresooftenwarnings @jilldsumner @chonisberonica

The booze tasted warm on his lips, and it burned on the way down. His eyes squeezed closed and he tried to channel his nervous energy back into something productive. The paper-bag crinkled noisily in his grasp, the cement was solid beneath him, and he could hear the buzz of traffic behind him. 

New York was alive at this time of night, thousands and thousands of lights twinkling down every street, everyone around him carrying out their own conversations-- ignoring the man who’s entire world was shattered at his feet. 

Early today, Tony Stark had made a mockery of his life’s work. The shame, the rage that he felt in that moment played back in his mind, and justified the resignation he’d filed an hour later. His ID badge would work for the rest of the night, and he was told to collect his things before they were removed. 

Quentin set the bottle on the curb, and drew a deep breath, straightening his posture and allowing himself some dignity. He pushed open the glass door, and presented his badge to the night security guard, feeling his heart pound as the man looked through his bag-- before finally letting him through. 

The normally chaotic Stark Tower was quiet at this time of night, and Quentin was thankful that he had a slim chance of running into any coworkers or anyone for that matter as he approached the elevator banks. He could feel the eyes of the security guard at his back, feeling his hair stand on end as he stepped inside, and waited for the doors to close. 

The moment he was alone, he set to work. Securing the phone-shaped device to the panel inside the elevator, he closed his eyes and said a prayer, hitting the top floor button. If he was lucky, the device could circumvent the keycard required to reach the residential floors of Stark Tower-- and avoid setting off any alarms in the process. 

The telltale whir of the elevator zooming upwards meant that the little trinket had served its purpose. His eyes widened in glee, and he silently breathed a sigh of relief. Thank God. The hardest part was over. 

Tony, to his credit, was practically invincible. The network of security, the Iron Man suits, and the other measures to keep him from harm were too advanced for Beck to handle alone. But you, his only daughter, were astoundingly unprotected. Maybe it was ego? Maybe Tony thought that only a madman would break into Stark Tower and risk waking the entire Avengers team? 

Now, it was just a matter of convincing you to come with him. 

---

You’d never met Quinten Beck before, never taken a second to glance in his direction-- why would you? He was another of hundreds of your father’s employees, and a meek one at that. He’d never made a pass at you, never asserted himself beyond greeting you in passing one morning in the lobby. 

Your hair was tied back, a toothbrush poking out from between your lips as you wandered the kitchen-- looking for a misplaced water-bottle. A few of the Avengers had gone out on a rare Friday without a mission, and invited you to a night of drinking and dancing-- which you’d kindly turned down. You wanted to give your dad a night with his friends, allow him a little fun for once, and were happy to retire to a night of watching TV and an early bedtime. 

The elevator dinged from the other room, and you frowned. It was barely ten-- they shouldn’t have been back yet. Pulling out the toothbrush, and setting it on the counter, you stepped out into the living room. “Hello?” You approached the elevator, seeing the doors open, and no one inside. 

Quinten was very still, waiting until you were nearly inside the elevator before he lunged. One of his arms snapped around your waist, his other lifting to cover your mouth. “Stay quiet,” he hissed in warning, feeling the warmth of your skin through the thin cotton of your pajamas. “I’m not going to hurt you.” 

You felt a chill shoot up your spine, and you thought back to the training Natasha had given you a few months ago. She’d held you just like this, and told you where to start kicking. You started to struggle, and threw back a foot, aiming for that sweet-spot between the legs-- and found yourself suddenly free of his grasp, pushed forward into the elevator, stumbling. You spun around, expecting some thug or a darkly dressed villain, and finding... Beck. “Help!” You called, knowing that hardly anyone would be awake to hear your cries for aid.

He was dressed plainly, but there was determination in his eyes as he stepped forward to interpose himself between you and the door. “I told you to be quiet,” he chided, stepping forward and taking a grip of your arm, pulling you closer to him. Suddenly, realization dawned on him. You weren’t screaming as much as you should’ve been, and your shoulders were heavy with defeat? “They’re all gone, aren’t they?” He asked, pushing the button for the Parking garage, and fixing you with those intense eyes. “The Avengers? They left you all alone?” 

You didn’t answer, defiant. 

A flicker of happiness rippled through him. Perfect. It seemed like fate was on his side tonight. “Here’s what’s going to happen,” he purred, free hand moving to gently caress your hip, thumb toying with the elastic waistband of your shorts. “You’re going to play nice, and tell me which one is your car. Then, we’re going to go for a drive. What happens after that,” he shrugged, “that’s up to you-- if you’re good,” his grip got a little tighter on your arm, “we can some fun.” There was no mistaking his tone... you were prettier in person, frankly. “But if you act up,” he pushed you back sternly until you were pressed up against the steel wall of the elevator. “I have no problems killing you, Y/N.” It was a lie, bold-faced one, but one he needed to keep you in line-- and keep you from screaming again.

You were silent, weighing your options. If you cooperated, you could bide your time-- planning an escape, or waiting for your dad to rescue you. Working your jaw, you sighed under your breath, and spoke. “Fine,” you answered, “I’ll be good.” 

--- 

It was easy from there. True to his word, Beck didn’t hurt you or manhandle you in any way, even allowing you to walk on your own to the car, confident that you’d honor the deal. He was only a few steps behind, he didn’t see the harm. When you got to the car though, he stopped you, poking through the clutter in his bag to find a large zip-tie, and gesturing for you to hold out your wrists. 

“Really?” You put your hands on your hips, looking at the rough plastic with distaste. “How cliche can you be?”

He rolled his eyes and stepped forward, easily taking your wrists and holding them together while he tightened the restraints around them. “I can’t have you attacking me while I drive,” he justified, stepping back and admiring his work, while hiding how strange the whole thing felt. He wasn’t a kidnapper, he wasn’t a criminal, and as the booze wore off-- he began to realize the repercussions of what he was doing. Even if he didn’t hurt you, even if he let you go right now, he’d be in prison the second Stark found him. The damage was done-- and by the time he let you go, he’d be drowning in legal fees. “There,” he let go of your wrists, and guided you into the passenger seat, taking the wheel and beginning to drive out of the darkened garage. He was silent, for a little, entering traffic and doing his best to keep from looking at you.

“Who are you?” You asked softly, fully turned in your seat to inspect him, memorizing the details of his face. There was stubble decorating his chin, and his eyes flicked in your direction as you addressed him.

Ah, what the hell. “I’m Quentin Beck,” he introduced himself, his eyes returning to the road a second later. “I used to work for your father.” He added, as though it justified what he was doing.

That tracked. It seemed Tony liked to burn as many bridges as he built, and it wasn’t hard to imagine that a former employee would come after you-- it wasn’t the first time one had attempted. “What department?” You asked, filling the air as you wiggled in the tight bonds, making no headway at releasing yourself.

“R&D,” he answered, surprised you weren’t more... resentful of him. “I helped develop the--”

“--augmented reality drones, right?” You concluded, allowing the slightest ounce of passion to seep into your tone, losing the neutrality you had. Admittedly, you thought the tech was cool, useful even, but had only looked at it a few times in passing. Your father had just presented it at MIT this morning, after months of work from R&D in the background to get it running. “I saw them this morning at the exposition, they worked well.”

He was stunned, and his mind spun as he struggled to maintain control over the situation. “Thank you?” Had you been there? Why hadn’t he seen you backstage? Had you seen him?

“So, what went wrong? Why,” you lifted your wrists as if to demonstrate, “am I involved?”

He flushed, thinking over his answer. It sounded so stupid now, so poorly planned, without a thought for the consequences at the time. “I wanted to hurt him, and he cares about you.” He answered plainly. “I never planned to hurt you, I just wanted him to feel what it’s like to have someone take something from him.” He glanced over as the came to a stop at a red-light. “I wanted to take everything from him.” 

A pit formed in your stomach. “Oh,” you breathed, looking out the window as your heart pounded against your ribs. You had almost broken the apparatus, if you could just get a minute more to fiddle with it! 

He refocused his attention on the road, feeling some of the tension leave his shoulders the further they got from Stark Tower. Maybe he could convince you that this had all been a big mistake, and let you go before Tony had even realized you were missing, maybe he could take you to dinner instead? 

The audible click of the breaking plastic brought a second of pause, as both of you processed that you were no longer tied. Too many things happened at once. Quentin slammed on the brakes, sending you both lurching forward as he swerved to pull over. 

You tried to grab for the door-handle, but sooner found yourself thrown against the door as Quentin’s erratic driving took its toll. You groaned and your temples throbbed, barely hearing the click of the locks as he ensured you wouldn’t run out into traffic. 

“I thought you were going to be good?” His tone was furious, and very nearly betrayed. Had you been flattering him to lower his guard? “I was going to let you go,” his voice shook as he reached over, taking a handful of your hair and pulling sharply, forcing you to meet his eyes. “But since you can’t behave, it looks like I’m going to have to punish you.” His eyes flashed with darkness and anger, putting the car in park, and opening his door. “Get out.” 

Fear welled up in your chest. You didn’t know this neighborhood, and you were far from anything you knew. You could run... but where would you go? You stepped out of the vehicle, shivering against the cold and walking around the car to meet Beck. 

He eyed you with a new intent now... a darker one. He could see the slight tremble of your fingers, the harshly bitten lip, the shining eyes that spoke of uncertainty. You had no idea what he was capable of, and that excited him. He could get back at Tony a different way, he decided. Who’s to say revenge couldn’t be sweet? 

[migila]

7 Seeds Week, day 3!

Theme of the day: Wild animal

Starring: Gengorou and Natsu

Day 3: Wild Animal

“Paw prints?” Ayu asks, looking up from the plant she was examining.

“Ye-yes” Natsu confirms “They, um, they looked like a cat’s, but they were a little too big, so I was thinking, um… a tiger, perhaps?”

Ayu looks thoughtful, but other than that, Natsu can’t read her expression.

“I probably shouldn’t have said anything; what if they weren’t a feline’s footprints after all?” Natsu thought nervously “What if it was some other animal that has already been spotted here? Ayu-san could get mad at me for wasting her time.”

“Show me where you saw them”

“Huh?” she wanted to see?

“We need to see if it really is some feline beast; it could be dangerous” Ayu said “Fortunately felines don’t tend to move in packs, but we can’t be sure. And even one could be dangerous if it was aggressive.”

“R-right” Natsu said. Leading Ayu to the pawprints, she really hoped that they were what she thought they were.

“But wait, if they are, then it’ll be dangerous” she realized “It’d be better if I was wrong, even if Ayu-san would get mad.”

“It really is a tiger or a similar feline” Ayu said, both to Natsu’s relief and horror “Though they’re a little small; perhaps it’s just a cub?”

Natsu didn’t comment, for it seemed like Ayu was talking more to herself than asking her opinion.

“We should tell Gengorou about this; he has experience with tigers” he did? Team Summer A was amazing.

---------------

“A tiger?” Gengorou repeated, and to Natsu he seemed excited.

“Ye-yes” she confirmed. Somehow, she had ended up having to be the one to tell him as Ayu had gone to round up the puppies, just in case the feline was still nearby “Or some other type of feline. Ayu-san said it might be just a cub.”

“Interesting” he said, but his face suddenly supported a frown “And a little worrying. If there’s one, there could be more. We haven’t seen any so far, but if any start showing up, they might cause harm to our community. We should take a look at this. Where did you see the paw prints?”

Natsu led him over to the prints, looking around a bit nervously, fearing that the feline might jump out from somewhere. But on the other hand, keeping an eye out for the animal kept her from being too nervous about being alone with Gengorou. Natsu didn’t really know him; had never really even talked to him in fact aside from a few words as she and Ayu introduced the new plants they’d discovered. Fortunately, he seemed like a serious person, not like someone who’d mess with people.

“Here” she said, realizing right after that it was pointless; Gengorou could clearly see the prints himself. Not that he seemed to mind. Examining the marks, he said: “I think it really is a tiger. A cub, I’m sure. That’s worrying.”

“Because if there’s a cub here, the mother won’t be far” Natsu silently murmured to herself, but it didn’t go unheard by her companion.

“Exactly” he said “The track leads to the woods; let’s see how far we can get.”

“We?” Natsu repeated. Did he expect to go after it now? And just the two of them?

“I don’t see a reason why not” Gengorou said, looking at Natsu “It’s better to go now so that we won’t lose the trail.”

“But… won’t it be dangerous?” she asked, unable to meet Gengorou’s eyes.

“Perhaps, but we’ll be cautious” Gengorou said “I have my gun along too, so if it becomes necessary, I can use it.”

“But…”

“…I won’t force you to come if you don’t want to” Gengorou said “I can go alone.”

Natsu didn’t want to go; she was a little scared and being alone with Gengorou made her nervous. But-

“No, I’ll come” she said as confidently as she could. It could be dangerous, so it was no good to let him go alone, no matter how capable he was. And as a cat person, part of her wanted to see the tiger.

“Alright then” he said “Let’s go.”

---------------

After they’d walked a while, the silence between them got overwhelming for Natsu and she gathered her courage to ask: “Um, shouldn’t we have told someone where we’re going?”

“I’m sure Ayu already knew I’d do this” Gengorou told her “She’ll come after us if we take too long to her liking.”

Natsu could imagine her doing that, directing her annoyance at the two of them. She wasn’t looking forward to that.

They almost lost the track a few times, Natsu definitely would have had she been alone, but Gengorou always managed to find it again. Eventually he came to a sudden halt, holding out his arm to signal for Natsu to stop as well.

Realizing that they must’ve found the feline, Natsu tensed. She really hoped it was just a cub like the Summer A members had thought.

“There’s two of them” Gengorou said quietly, and Natsu peeked around him to confirm this. Indeed, there were two at the coastline, a cub and an adult, probably it’s mother, but the later looked hurt, perhaps even dead.

“Stay here” Gengorou whispered as he pulled out his gun, and Natsu really hoped it was just to be safe. He walked over to the felines slowly and cautiously. Natsu could see the cub hissing at her companion, baring its fangs. She could see Gengorou kneeling down in front of it, not too close, letting it get used to him, all the while most likely keeping an eye on the bigger feline. Finally, after the cub had calmed down, curiously sniffling the man, he slowly rose, going towards the remaining feline.

“It’s dead” he called out loud enough for Natsu to hear after a while. She was relieved, but also a little sad for the cub; it was all alone now.

Coming out of her hiding place, Natsu approached the cub silently, much like Gengorou had done. It hissed at her as well, but stopped not long after. Getting used to the other human around must’ve sped up it’s process of getting used to her.

“Hello” she cooed to the kitten- ahem, tiger as it sniffed her hand. As she did, she noticed that it was hurt; it was dragging it’s left back paw “Are you hurt?”

“It does seem to be” Gengorou said as he came over, and Natsu decided to keep the fact that she wasn’t actually asking it to herself “But it didn’t look all that bad; I’m sure it’ll heal with the right help.”

“That’s a relief” Natsu said. Otherwise she would’ve cooed it to the kitten, but she feared what Gengorou would say about it, so she held her tongue. Instead, she asked: “Do you think these two are the only ones?”

“Very likely; I think they crossed the sea to get here” the man said “They must’ve been swept away by the current.”

“That’s so sad” Natsu muttered, carefully scooping up the tiger cup. She held it firmly enough to not drop it, but loosely enough that if it wanted to jump away, it could. But it didn’t seem to mind. Natsu wanted to take it home with her, but knew it wasn’t that simple. This wasn’t a cat; while the tiger was probably harmless now, there could be trouble when it grew up. But to leave it all alone…

“I didn’t expect you to just pick it up” Gengorou said, startling Natsu. She had almost forgotten he was there “I… I’m sorry.”

“Ah no, I’m not saying it’s a bad thing” he said, smiling as he stroked the tiger’s fur “Most people would just be too afraid to do so.”

Natsu blushed a little, feeling like it was a compliment, though she couldn’t be sure.

“…What should we do about this?” she asked “It might not make it if we leave it alone.”

“That could be” Gengorou said “We could take it along for now, at least until it’s healed. Maybe we could even keep it around.”

“You think so?” Natsu asked hopefully.

“Not in the settlement of course, but somewhere close” Gengorou said “If the others don’t mind, of course. I like tigers, but the same can’t be said for everyone. Understandable when we think of what could go wrong.”

“We won’t know without asking, will we?” Natsu said, suddenly determined “We should try.”

She just hoped that that just now hadn’t come across as an order and made Gengorou mad.

“Yes, we should” he agreed, much to her delight “Do you want to talk to Ayu?”

“Eh? Me?” the idea was rather scary; Ayu was scary “I… that’s…”

“I can talk to her myself if you’re not up to it” Gengorou said “Actually, that might be for the best as I know her better. How about you talk to Botan-san instead?”

That was a good idea, and it’d be easier. But…

She couldn’t just always pick the easy way out.

“No” she said “I can talk to Ayu-san. Botan-san too of course, but I’ll be able to talk to Ayu-san!”

“Alright then” she was glad that he didn’t see any problem with it; she had no idea how to handle it if he got angry “We should head back.”

“Right” Natsu said, fixing her hold on the tiger so that it wouldn’t fall. Eyeing her, Gengorou asks: “Should I carry it?”

“No, I can do this” this was the one thing Natsu could say with confidence “I know what I’m doing.”

“You have experience with tigers?” Gengorou asked, making Natsu blush again “Ah, not exactly. I um, I had a cat, so…”

“I see, I suppose the basics of handling them might be similar” he paused “But a tiger is definitely more dangerous if something goes wrong.”

“…Yes…” she knew that of course; she wasn’t stupid, but she was sure she could handle this… or at least, she had been sure. Now she started to doubt herself again.

“I actually took care of a tiger in the past” Gengorou said suddenly, making Natsu look at him in shock “Ban-Chan and Ayu-san too; we were in the animal class together” he pauses, but then adds: “His name was Tango.”

“My cat’s name was Macademia Nuts” Natsu told in return “Nuts for short.”

This was what they called small talk, right? Natsu had never been good at that, but maybe she could handle it when it was about animals?

“What species was it, if you don’t mind me asking?”

Natsu didn’t mind at all; she loved to talk about cats. And surprisingly, talk they did, all the way back to the settlement, and they were by no means in a hurry.

As they finally got back, Natsu handed the tiger cub to Gengorou, leaving to look for Ayu. As she did, she wondered if she could consider herself having made a new friend today.

[megacross-ground-zero-rated-r]

Major spoilers for Chapter Seven of the sequel book Who P-P-P-Plugged Roger Rabbit, minor spoilers for other chapters. 

I’m a bit over a hundred pages in and so far Eddie’s an asshole. Not grumpy, not a sourpuss, but a genuinely unpleasant person. There’s another, later scene that illustrates his thoughtlessness specifically towards Roger that prompted this rant, which I’m not going into here because I may do a mini-fic rewrite.

I can look past wanting to shoot Roger for breaking into his place again, because he has a history of doing that- It might be the one thing all versions of Roger from Censored, Framed, and Plugged have done aside from vehemently deny Jessica of any wrongdoing- And it almost got Eddie killed last time. 

What I can’t look past is threatening to shoot Roger for a genuine show of affection. Page 89.

***

“Calm down. Tell it straight and simple.”

He stood up and strolled the knolls of my Posturepedic. ((Positive point: Continues the trait of Roger pacing while he explains stuff.)) “I was on the Radio tonight. With Edward R. Murrow. He asked me terribly hard questions, one after another, but I handled them bippety boppety boop.’

“I know. I heard.”

He stopped short. His hangnail eyebrows boomeranged to the top of his forehead. “You gave up Edgar Bergen and Charlie McCarthy for me?”

“Sure. It wasn’t even a contest.” I never bought the notion of a ventriloquist on the radio. Who’s to say he’s not moving his lips?

Roger’s pencil-lead mouth squiggled itself into a goofy grin. His yellow hands moved up and out. I sniffed a bunny hug aborning. I reached for my gat. I would have used it too, I swear. Except the rabbit, in a rare display of good judgment, cocked his noggin, rotated his mitts around to palms out, and backed off. Though his inky-dinky grin still split open his face like the snaky residue of a shaky-handed shave.

***

And in the next paragraph his internal narration says this, referring to the clouds of onomatopoeia word balloons that float from ToonTown:

His onomatopoetic exclamation drifted out the open window. Another senseless expression of violence polluting the landscape.

Oh, really. 

This wouldn't be so bad if the backup gun Eddie has in this scene was the only factor at play. But earlier Eddie borrowed a gun from the Director who gave him the case, Selznick, didn't know it was loaded with Dip-tipped bullets, and got into a fight that resulted in the death of a Toon actor named Enigman. An attacker that Enigman apparently thought was on his side got behind Eddie in a dark room, grabbed the gun, and made Eddie shoot. Positive: That was a curveball I didn’t see coming, I liked it the first time I read it. 

There was no, oh, God, what have I done moment by the way, no why didn’t I check the rounds, why was an unguarded display gun loaded in the first place. There was evidence that Enigman was potentially involved in harming one of Eddie’s relatives and he withheld information about that unless Eddie took him off the suspect list, but the initial crime being investigated was only stealing a trinket from Selznick. 

Eddie was threatening to kill him but c’mon, he can’t be that hotheaded. If the other attacker hadn’t shown up I doubt he would’ve gone through with it. Selznick knows he borrowed the gun, and as he said, paraphrased from Page 68, your neighbors for two blocks either direction will hear the shot. Coming from a purely practical standpoint Enigman is the only lead Eddie has on his relative. There’s evidence in the room that Eddie could use if he gets it to the right people.

I’m surprised there hasn’t been an emotional reaction to it lining up and feeling the kick of the recoil, even if he really meant to kill Enigman and really had no reaction to his death losing control of a deadly weapon should’ve rattled him. Especially significant if Enigman is only the second Toon he’s ever killed. The Roger Rabbit frame-up and presumably Doom’s death were stated to have happened by now. Grabbing for the backup gun he didn’t remember the gory scene he left Enigman at, take even a moment to say, oh, shit, maybe I shouldn’t be waving this thing around. Roger doesn’t know about the Dip-tipped bullet incident. If he did he’d have a very different reaction to Eddie going for his holster. 

On the one hand, he said only time will tell on the subject of if he gets his sense of humor back in Framed’s resolution, so this book could be if he didn’t actually change that much. I would guess the opinion of casual fans of the movie is assuming that he underwent a total transformation overnight, which I don’t want to encourage, either. 

I feel it should be something he wants and works towards rather than getting dragged into one case by an outside force and having that be it. By all means, make him earn his happy ending with more than a few days work, but if any movie-canon character should grow as a person and get that it should be Eddie. 

I would very much like to see significant consequences to his hostility and apparent hypocrisy over violence, but I have a feeling I won’t. Hell, keep his inner monologue bitter and snarkier than what he actually says, have him pick and choose the moments he expresses his true thoughts. When he wants to get through to someone he’s sympathetic to or call out someone he’s not, or a stressor pushes him past caring who he hurts. Have characters react accordingly: He’s still got that ten-ton swing even if he pulls some punches nowadays. He’s got the wit and the venom to cut your facade to ribbons. Don’t do something stupid and give him the chance. Make him try and fail at relating to / consoling his clients rather than still writing it off as wishy-washy nonsense.

That's the potential to be a multi-leveled character who’s relatable to those struggling with loss and depression. As he is now the peaks and valleys to his emotional state don’t seem to have much affect on his words, actions, or descriptions showcasing his worldview in a given chapter, he apparently only has one setting, cynic who bad-mouths 85% of the stuff he runs into on a given day. I could be wrong on that though, I’ll come back and admit if I’m oversimplifying.

Time will tell where these traits go, I  hope something more nuanced comes of it. I’ll admit that time period has to do with it, writers and readers are pretty tired of cynical protagonists now.

I’m still interested in his relationship with his family, the short scene with Heddy was great, I want to see if he lightens up or Roger expresses some displeasure about the way he’s acting. I admire that he’s getting a response from me even if it’s negative. 

[turning-the-kaleidoscope]

“Crash” (One-Shot)

Shigeo’s legs can’t hold him for much longer. 

The weight of the buildings sinks into his being, suspended in the air over his head but as heavy as they’d be if slammed onto his shoulders. His heart pounds with the throb in his temples and he grinds his teeth against it, arms held high, trembling. 

The psychic’s face contorts, stretching with a smile far wider than any smile has business being. White teeth, pale skin, an aura as bright as snow beneath the sun. 

“Well, I’ll be damned,” he says, taking a step forward with long strides of longer legs. “And to think, here I was believing I’d beaten you at your own game.” 

“You were wrong,” Shigeo chokes, and hates how feeble his voice is, how violently he’s shaking, how hard it is to breathe. “The only person losing here is you.” 

The psychic’s smile doesn’t change, though he does halt his approach. “Really? We aren’t even knee-deep in this and you’ve already declared yourself the winner? How immature.” 

Shigeo bites back a cry when another building is slammed onto the stack he’s already holding. The weight redoubles and almost crushes him. Him, and Reigen, unconscious and bleeding on the ground behind him. 

“You really care for him, don’t you? You do know what kind of person he is, right?”

“I do,” Shigeo manages, strangled. “And that’s why I’m not going to leave him.” 

The psychic grins again, and his aura comes to surround him like blades shining in the moonlight. 

“If that’s how you want it. Let’s see how far you’re willing to go.”

The buildings come crashing down, harder and heavier than ever, and it brings Shigeo to his knees. 

He slams into the ground but keeps his arms above him, keeps his shaking hands splayed, keeps his teeth gritted to the point of breaking. His head hangs like a broken marionette’s and his legs prick like needles. They don’t respond when he tries to stand again. 

“I can’t believe this. It’s almost sad. Are you that deluded? Or maybe you’re just stupid.” 

Another building, like the weight of the world, and it’s all Shigeo can do to keep his aura wrapped around them, to keep the buildings pinned and suspended, to keep his eyes open.

“You’re stronger than this, I know you are. He can’t teach you anything you don’t already know. Why do you care so much about him? All he’s ever done is use you. You know that.” 

The weight crushes him harder. Fireworks explode behind his eyelids. Something in his shoulder twists and snaps but he doesn’t have the energy with which to scream. 

“I don’t get you, I really don’t.” 

He can’t see even when his eyes are open. He tastes blood. His legs feel like nothing. His arms feel like too much. 

“He’s holding you back. You’ll never reach your full potential as long as he has you on a leash. He doesn’t care about you, you know that, right? He’s never cared about you.” 

Shigeo doesn’t care about anything else. All that matters is that he keeps this up. All that matters is Reigen. The psychic can come later. The rest of the world can come later. He can come later. 

In the creak of his bones, in the burn of his being, he knows it. He can feel it like a ticking bomb with a single digit left on the countdown. Like the blare of a horn moments before impact. 

He can’t. 

The psychic’s words reach him as befuddled nothings as he forces himself to draw a breath, to make sure his timing is perfect. He blinks until his sight comes back, until he can see Reigen behind him through blurred vision, until he can see how much distance there is between the two. There isn’t much. Barely half a foot. 

Shigeo squeezes his eyes shut again, counts to three, and releases the buildings. 

They come crashing down on them like waves in a tumultuous sea, and bury them until there’s no trace left. 

“... Here--! Hurry up!”

“Nii-san!”

“Kageyama, you--what the hell?” 

“Shigeo-kun, you can lower the barrier, it’s alright, nothing will harm you now--” 

“I’ll get a medic!”

Shigeo’s eyes flutter open slowly, around the same time his barrier dissipates. Ritsu is sliding down the side of a collapsed building, leaping near the bottom and hitting the ground running. Serizawa and Teru are already here, eyes weary with concern and hands outstretched. 

Reigen lies beside him, so close that Shigeo feels his breath, but still somehow not close enough. 

“Nii-san!” Ritsu comes skidding on his knees before he can think, and then his hands are on his cheeks, turning his head to force their gazes together. “Are you okay? Ca-Can you hear me?” 

“Ritsu...” His voice doesn’t sound like his own. Breathing doesn’t come naturally. “I... where...” 

“There’s a team of medics waiting outside,” Teru is saying to Serizawa, in a tone that’s intended to be too quiet for him to hear. “I’ll take him up, you stay with Kageyama. Don’t let him move.”

It doesn’t click, at first. 

And then--

“N-No, wait, I-I--” 

He tries sitting up, but his vision bursts into stars and sparks and colors and his head implodes with ribbons and rivets of something, but he’s too blinded by it to feel anything but vicious, white-hot agony. The scream grates against his throat, but he can’t hear it. 

“--y down, stay down, stay down--” 

There are hands on him, drawing him close. The smell of herbal tea and library books fill his nose, and usually it’s comforting, but not right now. Now it’s too much. He still can’t breathe. 

“R-Reigen--” 

“He’ll be fine, alright? Hanazawa is taking him to the medics. He’ll be alright.” 

The relief hits him in a way that both takes his already scant breath away and lifts the crushing weights from his shoulders. The fact that he can’t breathe doesn’t matter as much as it did, and neither does the aching burn in his limbs and the throbbing pulse in his temples. His lungs feel splintered, and that somehow doesn’t matter either. 

Serizawa’s aura moves through him like icy water on desert sands. He didn’t realize just how much pain he’d been in until he feels it begin to ease. His lungs and throat clear. He breathes. 

“Is... Is he--?” 

“He’ll be alright. But he really overdid it. Right now, I think the best thing for him is--” 

He passes out. 

“... Serizawa told me what you did.” 

Shigeo doesn’t look at him. “What did I do?” 

They’re sitting side-by-side on the couch of the office, with Shigeo leaning into Reigen’s shoulder and Reigen resting his elbow on the arm of the couch and his chin on his knuckles. His other arm drapes loosely around Shigeo’s shoulders. The bandages around his head look more orange than white in the light of the setting sun streaming through the blinds of the office window.  

“You know what you did.” 

“I do know what I did,” Shigeo answers, “but I don’t know what I did that’s worth making a big deal over.” 

“You--” Reigen swallows hard, brings his hand up to his face. “Serizawa said you overdid it. When he tried to look at the damage in your aura, he said--he said he couldn’t even find your aura right away. That’s how far you overdid it. That’s how bad it got.” 

Shigeo looks down at his hands, fingers threaded loosely in his lap. “I... I had to do it.” 

“It could have killed you, Mob.” 

“It was going to kill you, too.” 

“It’s different.” 

“I don’t think it’s diff--” 

“You’re a kid, Mob, a kid. I’ve lived twice the life you have.” 

“That doesn’t mean you weren’t worth saving.” 

“Shigeo--”

“You’ve always told me I should make my own decisions,” Shigeo cuts in. He isn’t an argumentative person, but this isn’t a fight he’s going to lose. “And I made the decision to save you. Even though I knew what it’d mean.” 

Reigen’s arm around his shoulders tightens. “But--why?” 

Shigeo pauses for a long while, mulling things over. He shouldn’t have to explain it. He shouldn’t have to tell Reigen why his life is worth saving. But...

“Because you mean a lot to me,” Shigeo answers quietly. “And you mean a lot to Serizawa, and to the people you’ve helped, and--and to all of us. I wouldn’t be who I am if it wasn’t for you, and... I don’t know what I’d do without you, really. I just...” He bites his lip, averts his gaze. “I wanted you to live, that’s it. I don’t want to lose you.” 

Reigen is quiet. The sun dips further, and the ribbons of light streaming through the blinds move with it, stretching stripes across the office. 

“I don’t want to lose you, either, Shigeo,” Reigen finally says, in a voice so thick that it barely sounds like him at all. “I just--please. Please. Be--be more careful in the future. That’s all I ask. Please.” 

That... That’s something he can do. He can’t promise he won’t do it again, he can’t promise he won’t push himself, he can’t promise he won’t do it for as many times as the people he loves needs saving, 

But he can promise to be careful. And he can promise to look after himself better. And he can promsie to do his best. 

He nods, Reigen pulls him closer, and they watch the sunset until the moon replaces it, and the night eases them, moment by moment, towards tomorrow.

[ndjams]

I wanna talk about my kleptomania

when i first ran away from home i suddenly had access to a lot less money than i was used to, go figure. so i would steal things like food or underwear or cat litter, things i needed. eventually when i kept getting away with it, i kept pushing. every time my friends and i would go out we would end up in a book store or art supply store or something and all my friends knew i would walk out the door with 10 things shoved down my pants or under my jacket. they started asking if i could fit things they wanted, and soon we would just go out into the city for the sole purpose of stealing stuff.

it was all fun and games until i got caught. i was stealing food and a valentines day gift for my boyfriend and a security guard escorted me to the back of the store on my way out the door. my friend was with me so she texted my boyfriend what happened. i thank god that i only got let off with a warning, but my boyfriend was a mess. both of his parents had served time for petty theft so this close call opened a traumatic wound for him and it broke my heart to see. that night i told him i would never steal again.

that was about 2 weeks ago, since then ive stolen from multiple places and it stressed out my boyfriend every time. understandably he felt like i didnt care about him. he is the most important thing in the world to me, every other thing hes told me bothered him, i quit doing because he means more to me than any of the little things i was doing. anything he told me he liked, i would do more because seeing him happy is my favorite thing in the world. it was just this one habit that i've been struggling so hard to break.

i feel stupid for the amount of times ive said im sorry. i meant it every time but when im in a store and see something i want, i take it without thinking about anything other than "huh i could use this". i can see how he would see me taking something as disregarding his fears, and it hurts so much that its so hard for me to stop.

last night was the worst, when he's upset, he'll be quiet for hours so its hard to communicate with him and figure out whats wrong. he was in that mood for almost the whole day and i was trying to tell him how much i love him and how much he means to me and how i want to change but its hard, but he couldnt believe me. that shit H U R T. i know he has a right to be upset, no matter what the reasons are i keep doing something he explicitly told me really upsets him. but being given the cold shoulder by the person i want to marry just burns.

the only reason i didnt relapse self harm last night was because i couldnt find anything sharp in the house. i'm at a loss. i did everything i could last night, i reached out to a close friend whose usually around when we go out and asked her to be like "hey maybe you shouldnt" any time she sees me go to take something. i was researching why kleptomania exists how people have dealt with it etc, but its hard to find any info about it at all.

this morning my boyfriend woke up still upset and i dont know what to do. ive asked for forgiveness so many times that it feels selfish to do it again. i really am dedicated to breaking this habit but unfortunately it takes time. i cant just go up to him right now and say hey im cured i'll never steal again. i need to show him that i can do it but im scared that the next time i walk into a store i wont be able to control myself. again.

i know i can break this habit with time but my boyfriend shouldnt have to be going through all this. i dont think hes gonna break up with me over this but i know hes thinking about it. im his first steady relationship, he's always had issues in the past where when someone starts to mean a lot to him he ends it because he gets scared hes gonna lose them not on his terms. playing this little will i get caught or wont i every time we leave the house is risking me being taken from him not on his terms, so i know hes thinking about ending it himself. also he has told me that when he starts feeling like he should end it, he gets really toxic and cold without even realizing it. i thought i had seen it before but that side of him really showed last night. i couldnt do anything right and everything made him upset towards me. before we went to sleep he had a moment where he realized how he was acting and apologized but it still hurt that my actions were what instigated that shitty few hours.

i'm just scared he wont be able to wait for me to get better. i dont know what i'd do.

[mrneighbourlove]

Into the Darkness and Unknown: Ch 7. The Burden of Knowledge

‘My dear Revan. Are you well? I know you are still learning to read, but I do this for your future. Either you read this when I return, or if something unexpected happens to claim my life. Need not worry. Your father is mighty, but more so, he is careful. Omisha has been a vast and colourful country. The air is hot, and the jungles vast. I think someone with your imagination will come to like it if you ever explore its land yourself. However, to be honest, it is difficult to judge in the present if that is a possibility. The people of this land are opposed to humans, as of now. I hope to change that with time, and I know that it will be your generation who will no longer know of prejudice. I’m sorry I’ve been away for so long, but the work I do is important. It is for your future as well as everyone else. This does not mean I don’t miss you. I hope to be home soon. I love you son.

- Your father Malik.’

~

A month and a half. A whole month and a half Leere and Malik found themselves in Omisha. Due to the attack, and unfortunately only three days into the trip, no communication could be sent to Hyrule due to Mother being paranoid information being intercepted by additional enemies. Bonegrinder needed time to recover, but neither had any idea it would take such a strenuous recovery.

Malik spent his time learning combative history of Omisha, sharing stories of Ganondorf and Link throughout the ages. Leere made herself getting comfortable knowing every villager she could. As a tease, she decided not to have sex with Blue and White’s younger sister, being catty that the doctor could wait. The poor woman couldn’t get Leere alone with her. Currently, she was playing with Solani, climbing up a tree. It seemed that her mother slowly eased up on letting Leere get closer.

“Solani, the secret to climbing tree’s for humans is balance.” The princess was carefully reaching for a piece of fruit near the top. “Steady your feet, reach up, aaaaand... got ya.”

Leere indeed snatched the fruit off the tree, but with a snap under her, the branch she was standing on broke, sending the princess plummeting to the ground. Other branches broke most of her fall, but she still hit the ground hard, having the wind knocked out her, the back of her skull ringing as loud as two brass cymbals smashing loudly in the coffins of her brain.

"SQUAWWWK!!!" Solani rushed over to the princess and looked slightly panicked. "You okay?!" Thanks to a spell that Mother had allowed her children to use, there was easy communication with the two visiting humans. "I told you that I could get it! I have wings! You are bound to fall and fall you did!"

"Why are humans so clumsy?" Sneha, her sister, rolled her eyes. "Trip, fall, repeat."

“Simple my dear girls, I wanted to show you the strength of tiny humans. Ow my fffuuu-reaking head.” Even in a dazed state, the woman was noble enough to not swear around kids. Leere felt the back of her head, frowning at the feel of blood. “Darn it. You kids ever see human blood before? Feels so gooey.”

"Only the ones that tried to kidnap us when we were chicks." Sneha spoke without filter, earning a jab from her sister. "Ow! What?! She asked!"

“I’m sure they got torn up good eh?” Leere cracked a smile, trying to stand. “Oh man. Doc might get her wish to have me alone in her office. Woooo, the earth is spinning.” The princess immediately fell on her ass. Appeared she was losing balance in her legs as much as she was losing balance in her filter. “Don’t suppose one of you wants to get some help while the other stays close?”

"I'll go get Nomusa, I'm faster than you." Sneha took to the sky while Solani waited with Leere. "I'll be sure to tell her that you got hurt being stupid."

"Don't call her stupid!" Solani huffed as her sister flew away. "Just because she hatched two minutes ahead of me, she thinks she knows everything."

Leere felt close enough to pull Solani close enough for an arm around the shoulder. Pretty sure after a month her mother wouldn’t treat her like Prometheus. “Well not stupid, but maybe climbing up the tree without a harness was a little dumb.”

"... well... a little, perhaps so." Solani agreed. "You humans don't have a defense against gravity like we do."

“Oh boy, that’s the truth right there. Lucky I didn’t go splat like a raspberry pie.”

"Next time, please leave the task of picking fruit to me." Solani asked Leere as an afterthought. "Are you going to go check on Bonegrinder today?"

“Yeah. Probably after I get myself checked out.” Leere sighed, giving the girl a half-hearted smile. “If things go well for him, I’ll probably be leaving.”

"Aww, you're not staying? It's been fun learning from you." Solani pouted a little. "Mama said to be careful. But you're not too bad. I think."

“You’re a pretty great kid Solani. But I got a home of my own to go back to. I’m sure my own mama is a bit worried how I’ve been doing all this time.” Leere gave the bird a light ruffle on the head. “How about this? Ask me anything on your mind.”

"It's not good to make your mom worry." Solani had to agree with Leere's reasoning. Her own mother worried enough. So, it was logical that human mother would worry too. "I guess... why aren't you with the other Mortuus? Why aren't you like... a bad guy? Why do you wanna be a good guy? ... I mean girl. Not guy."

“Well, I don’t remember them too much, but my birth parents were bad guys. They escaped to Hyrule with me when I was a young little thing. After being adopted by my new family, I wanted to help people like you Solani. I wanted to use my gifts to save lives, help other people feel safe.” Leere looked to the sun in the sky and smiled. “Maybe there are other good Mortuus, trapped in Malus. Maybe I’m the only one. Regardless, I’m going to do my best living a life where people can look into the shadows and still feel safe.”

"There's been a lot of bad Mortuus..." Solani said quietly, "A lot of bad humans too. Mama wonders if Mother is doing the right thing sometimes. Though, everyone knows that Bonegrinder's visions are never wrong. We have to have a little faith... but it's hard."

Leere silently nodded along to Solani. Maybe it was the dazed head and leaking blood, but the princess asked in an almost worrisome tone, “Do you think I’m a good human?”

"Yeah, I do." Solani nodded. "It's just... hard to think that there are some good ones out there when all we've ever known is bad."

“That’s called hope Solani. And if I can be the start to your list of good humans, that’s honour enough for me.” Leere grinned, giving the girl a light tickle on the stomach to get a laugh before her sister came back. The princess wondered if she really did make a difference to these people. She certainly hoped so. There was so much mistrust, so much secrecy in Omisha she had yet to crack.

Kiume broke the princess’ thoughts when he approached Leere and Solani. "I have news." The father of White and Blue told the princess. "Bonegrinder is awake."

“He is?!” Leere was so excited, that, when she tried to move, she forget her own injuries. She was quick to stumble back onto her but with Solani in hand. “Ow.”

"... Sneha also sent me to tell you to stay out of trees." Kiume then bent his eight legs to lean down to inspect Leere's head.

“I just reopened an old head wound. Not a great big deal.”

"You let me decide what is 'a great big deal' or not." Kiume was not the best healer, but he could mend an open wound. "There... might be a little tender for a few days."

“I’ve been knocked around by worse.”

"Would you like to go see Bonegrinder now? Or fetch Malik first?" Kiume informed the princess. "He's still a little woozy, so he's resting in Mother's nest. Though, she will allow you to see him. As long as he can slither and eat by the end of the day, he should be able to return with the two of you to Hyrule tomorrow."

“I’m sure Malik won’t mind continuing his journal on his own if seeing Bonegrinder doesn’t guarantee our departure. You don’t want to keep me in your care for a while first?”

"I'm quite confident you'll be all right. There's no brain matter leaking from your head." Kiume then arched his eyebrow. "Unless you're referring to the 'other' type of company, which should not be discussed in front of a chick."

"Hey! I'm almost ten! I'm practically grown up." Solani squawked with a huff and puff of her cheeks.

"Sure, sure."

“You’re the one who can’t stop batting those pretty eyes at me.” Leere patted Solani’s head. Her head was still woozy because she didn’t notice the obvious as of yet… “Advice kid. When a boy or girl does that to you, that means they like you. Bonus points if they stutter around you.”

"... boys? Ew." Solani was not exactly at that age where she thought of romance. "Boys are yuck. Why would I want a boy to like me?"

"You keep thinking that until you're about two hundred years old, kid”, the old spider chuckled.

"I'm not a kid!"

“Nomusa? Aren’t you a teenager hopelessly in love yourself?” Leere grinned mischievously towards to who she still believed was the young doctor. “Besides, what is a kid anyway? Who are we to judge? Solani can fly after all. That’s a pretty grown up thing for birds to do.”

"A 'kid' is someone who isn't old enough yet to learn how reproduction takes place."

"How what takes place?"

"See what I mean?"

“Ok. Point proven.” Leere paused when she saw Solani’s mother fly down with her sister. In her current position, she couldn’t exactly hide the fact she had an arm around her daughter getting heart to heart with her. “Oh. Hello there!”

"... it's time for lunch." Solani's mother, Syndia, was not exactly comfortable around humans. It was still taking a bit of getting used to since Mother decreed these two visitors were not to be harmed. She did not like it that her child wanted to hang around a... a Mortuus of all types of humans, but would not dare go against Mother. "Come, you need to eat, and you're still growing feathers."

"Mooooom, five more minutes?"

"No, it's ready now. Come along."

"Aww... okay, I'll see you later, Leere."

“Hey, it was good to hang out. In case we don’t get to say goodbye again before I leave... you’re a good kid. It was awesome to met you.” Leere gave Solani a warm hug. “I’ll be back for more than on visit to Omisha. Now go eat and do as your mother says.”

"Before you walk, I think you require a clear head." Kiume placed his large hand on top of Leere's skull and used his magic to clear her senses. "You have quite a knot there."

Leere waved goodbye before stretching out her limbs. Her head suddenly felt all the clearer. “Thanks, Nomusa. Don’t know what you missed the first time. Maybe I can-!!!” A deep sense of confusion rose up to her chest from her gut. “You’re not Nomusa.”

"... no. I am Kiume. My daughter is Nomusa." The elder healer crossed his arms. "Maybe we should wait until you got a little more clearer head."

“Oh wow. Did I make a move at you in her place?”

"Yes."

“…”

“…”

“…..”

“…..”

Leere took a deep gulp to swallow a sense of embarrassment wanting to crawl out. “Sorry about that. I’ll go see Bonegrinder now. Oh... maybe it’d be best to not tell Nomusa.”

"I figured you were not in your right mind since you prefer females instead of males, but I will take it as a compliment." Kiume gestured toward the Temple of Ruin. "Mother is waiting. You best go."

“Well, your daughters had to get their beauty from somewhere.” Leere took a few deep breaths before entering the temple. Since her emotional epilogue a month ago, Leere saw Mother only a few select times for check ins. In her time, Leere tried to study Echidnan language, explore the territory of the country, as well as grow a stronger relationship with as many monsters that felt safe around her. Seeing Mother at her throne, she bowed respectfully. “Greetings Mother. I was told Bonegrinder is finally feeling well?”

"Modoc is well enough to talk and move." Mother told Leere, looking rather tired. She had researched text after text to find a way to ensure that the deity inside the Anagari remained stable. The Echidnan leader had spent a majority of her magic and resources and was in dire need of rest herself. Yet, she could not slumber until she was sure everything was all right once more. "He is still... out of sorts. Do not be surprised if he says things which make no sense."

“I will be careful around him. Mother, are you well? You look fatigued.”

"I am simply tired, Leere. It is not easy using magic when you have none to spare." Mother admitted to the princess. "Yet, I have seen worse. Go visit with Modoc. Even if he is still confused, it will do him good to see a familiar face."

“Please take care not to strain yourself.” Leere gave her a kind glance before leaving to journey deeper into the temple.

Mother had constructed a new nest for Bonegrinder on the ground level. It was too difficult to carry his body up to the higher levels of the temple. So there he rested, on pillows and silk. His body had mended well, with a few new scars to boot, but his mind was still threading itself together after the strain.

Leere carefully journeyed close, placing a hand upon his chest to feel a heartbeat. “Bonegrinder? Are you awake?”

"Faces, faces, everywhere in places... hrm... another face..." Bonegrinder was murmuring to himself and his eyes were glazed. "When are you?"

“I’m Leere Dragmire. In my 40’s.” Leere looked down into those glazed, dazed eyes. “Who am I talking to?”

"He does not know if he's... Modoc... no, Bonegrinder... what about Prama? He barely knows, barely knows himself, but knows all..." The Anagari's tail flicked back and forth. "Who do you want to talk to, princess who desires answers? Part of him keeps you from knowledge, the other part thinks you should know."

Leere’s fists squeezed tightly, feeling so much older than she appeared. There were indeed answers she needed to have unearthed. “Can you tell me what is so important about the markings about my back? And do you believe Malus is truly dammed to hell?”

"Ah, curious little one..." The Anagari even sounded different than his usual self. "Malus used to be prosperous until their downfall. A downfall due to promises of power. You know power is so seductive, but can be so corruptible." He then elaborated. "I was there, I saw them turn from using their gifts to transport the souls to the afterlife, but then decided to manipulate them for their own purposes. Such was a cause for their damnation." His head then turned to look at her. "And you would be part of their plans, princess. Modoc wanted to ensure you were kept ignorant. Bonegrinder agreed. But I know you wish to have that knowledge. The knowledge that you are a piece of their ritual to bring back the entity of Chaos, incarnated as pure Tyranny. To bring forth corruption." He asked Leere. "Another reason why the Temple of Time scares you, beckons you and torments you... to show you what is a possibility to come."

Leere looked down at him, unsure what to say at first. It was one burden replaced by the next. She always knew that she was a failed sacrifice, yet now she knew what for. More so, there was always a danger of her forced purpose being fulfilled. “Why didn’t you tell me before?”

"Modoc, Bonegrinder, your friend didn't want you to hurt further than you've already been hurt." He mused. "Figured it would be best to keep you in the dark so you would live the remainder of your days in normalcy... humans always want the usual. So boring... but it keeps the balance."

“I wanted the truth. Why couldn’t he- why couldn’t you give me that Modoc? I... what else are you hiding from me?” Leere’s voice fizzled to a whisper, her muscles relaxing from a sense of defeat.

"He would not tell you for he feared you would hate him. He is already facing blame from his creations," The Anagari's hazy eyes blinked slowly and then he said. "He earned your friendship and did not wish to lose it. One of the victims of Chaos' terrors, if he could spare even one, it would be a good deed done..."

“I don’t need secrets. I don’t need to be kept in the dark. I’m afraid of the dark after all.” A sad chuckle escaped her, her head falling down into her arms. “I need friends who can be honest with me. I need a light to rely on. If not you... than someone else.”

"Would you hate him for trying to protect you? He is, simply, a host." The Anagari then had a bit of a maniacal giggle. "Darkness and shadows bring nothing but dread, two can keep a secret if one is dead..."

Leere tilted her head, unimpressed by whatever was talking through Bonegrinder. “I am shadow. Now how about whatever entity you may be, take leave of Modoc’s body?”

"He cannot until Kaska comes to fetch him, princess. Just as does Dhakk and Chaos with their bodies, he has his. Surely you know the tales, Mother should have taught you well." He then asked with a tilted head. "Should he teach you the rhyme?"

“Wait. Dhakk? You speaking in third person like Bonegrinder, or the first? Which god does that make you?”

"Which do you think, princess? Snakes have a very bad reputation for having part in the end of the world..." He chuckled, partly rising from the bed. Bonegrinder's eyes were no longer hazy but now solid white. He was very clear that there were two souls within one body. The Anagari's eyes were usually redder than blood, but now, were the color of fallen snow. "Very clever of Kaska to manipulate the circumstances so my host would be just that. Somewhere no one would look for him. Someone who would be avoided due to fear to keep him safe. Until it is time for the final battle until Chaos, he will be unable to leave his host."

“I see a lot of destruction from your host...”

"He is a formidable creature and deadly shaman... what he does is not me. I am not him and he is not me."

“Cryptic. Like most higher beings I know.” Leere gripped his hand, looking deep into those white eyes. “I want my friend back please.”

"Why? So you can torment him further?" The deity was curious. "I still do not understand what draws you to him. My host is by no means a saint, but serves his purpose well. He has accepted his fate, yet still tries in his own way to benefit others. What has he ever done to benefit you? Didn't you say he brings forth much destruction? Hasn't he brought you misery? Why stay by his side?"

“He was a friend to me when I needed one. The destruction he brings is chosen by those who seek it. He saved my life. The misery I felt was inflicted on myself and by monsters in the dark. Now, tell me, exactly, what do you mean I torment him?” She aggressively grabbed him by the thin beard dangling from his chin. Leere didn’t know if she could truly intimidate a god, but she didn’t care.

"You truly do not know? He wants to save you from your impending fate," The deity then paused. "But knows he may not be able to do so. He lost his family and does not want to lose anyone else."

"That's not torment you sniveling being. That's concern. How dare you make me believe I'm a burden on him." Leere let go of his beard, patting down her pockets for chalk. Soon as she found an old broken piece, she started to get to work on drawing a circle around Bonegrinder.

"If you are trying to exorcise me, it won't work." The deity told the princess. "In time, you will see what I mean. For now, I will allow you your friend back. If you have more questions, I will be waiting... or you could ask Kasdeya. The mother of many will elaborate more so than I." He then told her. "Be grateful this snake cares for you, Leere. He took a hit for you, and we have been repairing ourselves for a long while."

Then he retreated to the recesses of the Anagari's body.

Leere paused her attempted exorcism. Throwing the chalk away, she sat down next to Bonegrinder until she heard his presence stir next to her. "Modoc?"

Once the deity had retreated into the recesses of Bonegrinder's mind, the Anagari squirmed. He was in agony. The pain would not subside. For all Mother's magic, she could not cure all that ailed him. Dark magic had its price and while light tried to battle it, he had to suffer the consequences. He looked so frail. "Tiny princess..." He tried to mask the discomfort from his voice. "He would have thought... you'd be home by now."

"Malik and I wanted to wait for you. We're a team." Although she smiled, and her hands were soft and kind as she held his, there was a sense of unease in her voice.

"Don't jest, tiny princess, you know that Malik hates this snake's guts." The Anagari said dryly, being a bit of a brat. "Still sore since he lost a fight and knows he would lose again and again."

"He has honour Modoc. He respects you enough to not abandon. He hasn't had any contact with his family for over a month now. Stop acting like a child." There was something about his brattish behaviour that seriously got under Leere's skin now.

"He is not Modoc!" Bonegrinder shouted so loud that dust shook from the stones. He jerked on the bedding and held his head so tightly, that his claws made it start to bleed. "He is not him! He is... he is... he doesn't know who he is!" He groaned and closed his eyes. "When is he! The visions, the memories, what is what, who is who, when is when, he can't stand it anymore! Let him forget! He wants to forget the screams, the bodies, the failure, the absolute failure! All this power and he can't save one fucking soul!" Sparks of magic filled the air. "Why did you tell her?! She had to know! She didn't, she doesn't, she won't---"

Mother quickly skittered around the corner and approached the nest. She held tightly to the Anagari, trying to ensure he would not have another outburst of celestial magic. It could harm everyone within the Temple or even outside of it if he was too agitated.

"Don't laugh as death passes you by, for you might be the next to die," Mother repeated the age old rhyme, trying to bring some sense of clarity back to the snake. "The grim reaper walks beside of thee, she comes for all, for you and me. What's next? Tell me what is next."

"Darkness and shadow bring nothing but dread, two can keep a secret if one is dead..."

"She... the grim reaper walks beside of thee..."

"Answer me!" Mother nearly shook him. "Don't let your mind crack again! You're here! You're with me! With your friend, Leere! You don't want to hurt her, right? Keep control!"

"He is... I am... who am I?"

"You are the shaman once known as Modoc, you call yourself Bonegrinder now. Why? Why do you call yourself that?"

"Because... because..." His eyes nearly rolled back into his head. "The bones of his enemies will be ground into dust... nothing left..."

"Good, good... tell me of your family..."

"Ngh... Kaksa... no... Akihara..."

"Your children."

"Osage and Ponca..."

"Your friends."

"Blue, White, Red, Black, Silver... such pretty colors."

"And the kid in the maze?"

"Hrm... tiny princess... so small.... so... so lost..." Bonegrinder emphasized the last word, looking heartbroken. "Mother, how can he help her if he cannot even save her?"

"It's okay, it's okay, she's right here... she's still alive."

"Alive... still alive..."

"That's right... sleep now. She's all right."

"Hrm-hmm..." Bonegrinder started to doze in Mother's arms. "So... tired..."

"Then sleep."

Once Bonegrinder had dozed off into sleep again, Mother's tense body relaxed with a deep sigh. "Oh thank Kaska..."

Leere watched the whole ordeal with dread, watching two massive slithering monsters shake back and forth all so one could keep the others emotions calm and in control. The temple stone shook for a few moments there. Finally feeling like she could take a breath, Leere leaned back against a stone pillar. "I don't even know what to think of that."

"I doubt he will recall any of this when he wakes again." Mother kept as still as a mouse while holding Bonegrinder. "When he's in pain, he barely remembers what happened or what he says. It's all like... a dream to him. That's as close as I can describe it." She looked so tired herself, but held strong. "Destroyer and Chaos are out there... Prama is here." She stroked Bonegrinder's long hair. "Prama is bitter for what has happened to him and has been separated from Kaksa for what feels like an eternity. Yet, he still protects us through Bonegrinder's eyes. While sullen and crass, Prama still looks for Kaksa and to us..." She then said, "Despite what you may believe or anyone else, he does have our interests at heart. At least that is one objective they both agree upon."

"What now? Is he going to sleep for another month?"

"The last time he was attacked by Chaos, he was asleep for nearly an entire year." Mother told Leere. "It would not be fair to keep you or Malik from your families any longer. When he is well, I will send him there. For now, if you wish to return to Hyrule, I will open a portal for you."

"What about his family within the Hive?"

"We will send word that he is in recovery still. They have faith in him." Mother then told Leere. "This is great a burden to know, Leere... if you wish to rid yourself of this knowledge, there are ways."

"... this." Mother held up her hand, magic forming in her palm. Yet, it aged her skin prematurely. "Pure life force. Prama is the Maker. His host can accept nothing else."

"Modoc complained about too much light in him."

"It hurts him sometimes, but I know naught of what else to do. This is the only solution which works." Mother's magic returned to her body. "I have tried many other ways. Perhaps he will wake sooner, perhaps not. For now, tell Malik that Bonegrinder is still unstable. The last thing your kingdom needs is the chance of a deity wiping it off the map."

"His body holds darkness within him... with all due respect Mother, I think you aid the spirit of the god inside him, but not Modoc himself. On that note, perhaps I can be of true assistance."

"I cannot allow you to use your magic upon him, Leere." Mother told the princess with a small shake of her head. "I am ancient and will live until you and yours are long gone. You are mortal with a select number of years left. Any unknown move could result in transference of your life energy... willing or not." She sighed and carefully laid Bonegrinder's head back on the pillows. "I aid the deity to save us all. I aid Modoc because he is my friend. Prama require light. Modoc uses darkness. Hence, he can use either type of magic. Yet, too much of one... and the scales are tipped."

"Two things you should know about me Mother. Most of the life I have has been taken other mortals to fuel my own youth. Stolen from criminals and murders. And I am all but willing." She placed a hand on Bonegrinder's chest, taking a deep breath. "You're right. He does need balance. But I can also see in those beautiful eyes of yours, despite proclaiming your superiority over mortals, there is fear in your mirrors to the soul. I believe you haven't been giving him that balance he needs due to your own fears. My own mother and father taught me that every source of light casts a shadow. Both must be embraced as they can't be separated. Please... trust me." Slowly, Leere channeled her stolen abundance of life energy, laced with shadow magic to fill the darkness Bonegrinder was missing.

Bonegrinder started to stir, grumbling curses, and Mother calmly removed Leere's hand from the Anagari. She was holding her breath. The Anagari then settled and returned to slumber. "We cannot have another outburst, for I have not the energy to contain him." Mother then told the princess. "And I never said I was superior. Just that I live much, much longer."

"Most people don't like being called mortals. Makes them feel like they are being talked down to someone with a god complex." Leere was very tired herself suddenly. She must have given him 5 years of life within the span of ten seconds; the Anagari was like a sponge. "I thought that would wake him... I'll go fetch Malik, and we will leave. Taken up enough of your time and hospitality as is."

"While you do wish to help, you cannot know everything for sure, Leere. Please be more cautious in the future." Mother covered Bonegrinder with a thick fur pelt before rising. "I will escort you to the exit."

"I know..."

________________________________________________________________

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