#once I get through this first arc and stuff pops off this will be way more consistent

[crookshanks23]

Season 1, Episode 7: The Battle Axe of Hatred

Favorite quote: The entire Henry rapping moment.

Favorite moment: The moment when Henry is trying to have a side conversation in the car, and Darryl rolls down the window and tells Glenn that Henry has something to share with him.

General thoughts:

This episode is very fun, but I have a very hard time re-listening to this first arc of the podcast. I don't know why, but it's not as fun and satisfying as the middle and end of the show with the dads trying to get their anchors.

The intro was fun to listen to, even though I don't fully get the reference on that one. But it does generally feel like a radio talk show scenario.

Everything about Henry's rap album and how that leads to Rocks Rock is wonderful, because Rocks Rock is one of my favorite things that this show has put out.

I also love how they spend so much time creating this plan for how they're going to get into the Red Brand hideout, and how it all absolutely goes to shit. Listening back on this now, it really reminds me of the whole plan to scam the mayor that we just saw in episode 32 of season 2.

I also thought the ending on this one was a little weird. I didn't remember them ending this mid- combat. It works just fine as an end, but it feels a little awkward.

Overall, this is a fine episode, and definitely some good laughs to be had, but not one of my favorites.

[puimoo]

Dick's inability to jump in Nightwing.

I’ve loved some of the older Dick Grayson related storylines that I have been reading over the last week, but I am really struggling with the new stuff – I’m just not enjoying the characterizations, the bright art, or the storylines as much in the recent-ish Nightwing comics.  It almost feels like they are water blasting away all the interesting shadows and darkness that have previously existed and creating a much less interesting, bubble gum pop character and world.  Using the ��Dick can’t jump’ storyline as a bit of an example:

Dick not being able to jump (or, as it really should have been, to fly) had so much potential and it feels that in any other era this would have at least have been explored in a more interesting manner (whether it would have been written WELL is always a bit of a toss-up).  Here it is simply: problem acquired through external means, reason for maintaining issue briefly touched on but not explored in any way, problem fixed.  There are no stakes, no consequences, no fallout, no self-doubt.  You have Dick (potentially) having a panic attack and passing out on a trapeze and it takes all of two or three panels with no follow-up or exploration of what is going on in his mind during that attack.  You have someone who is supposed to be deeply fearful sitting on a cliff edge for – again – all of a couple of panels, before he then describes himself fixed.  No internal monologue, no actually capturing of that escalating fear as it consumes him.  In fact, fear seems to be missing altogether – it comes across far less that he is afraid of jumping and simply that he can’t.

I would have loved to see a more organic build.  Dick makes a mistake that shakes his confidence to the core, or Dick is dealing with vertigo following a head injury.  I’d like the stakes to be raised – being unable to jump has terrifying consequences while out patrolling.  I’d like to see the deepening sense of loss and a greater exploration of what jumping actually is to him (and not because he was a trapeze artist as a child once upon a time because he is so much more than that – this old well gets tiresome).  I’d like him to try to push through because Dick puts everything else before his own wellbeing, absolutely fail and there to be even more terrifying consequences for that.  I’d like to see him spiral downwards towards his lowest point where he starts to question whether he can still do this – and if he can’t, then who is he and where does he fit with others.  I’d like to see the batfamily find out and reflect on what this means for them, and for there to have always been this undercurrent that, while Dick is graceful and powerful and incredible when he leaps, that there has always been that fear of what happens if he doesn’t catch himself in time. I want the metaphor to have actually have been seen through (hell, I would have liked there to have been a metaphor in the first place) – it’s not just the fall that should be the story, it’s who catches him when he does and what happens if he hits the ground?

I wanted the arc to capture the fear, the psychology, Dick spiraling and having to drag himself back up with the help of others.  What we get instead is emotionless, bland, with no stakes and no heart.  Certainly no deepening of the character or lore. 

And! Then!  To rub even more salt into the wounds. What an absolutely terrible waste of what should have been an absolutely iconic moment: Bruce taking on Nightwing’s mantle.  When Dick steps into Batman’s shoes, it’s often because things have become almost broken beyond repair – desperate and dark and with the weight of the world on his shoulders.  Bruce steps into Nightwing’s shoes because he’s off on a mountain somewhere having a bath. This should have been something incredible and defining for both of them. Dick as Batman always has this thick, threatening edge to it.  What impact does the role reversal have on Bruce, as he instead drawn more towards who Dick is? What does Bruce sacrifice - what fears does HE have to face when becoming Nightwing?

As someone who was hoping to get back into fandom, I wouldn’t even know where to start in navigating the stuff I do and don’t like in canon, all spread across different reboots.

Right!  I need a palate cleanser!  Off to reread Operation Friendship Helmet (https://archiveofourown.org/works/56642212/chapters/143977645), which is now officially my comfort fic after spending an entire week consuming way too much Nightwing fan fiction.  This time, I will even try and leave a review that captures why I love it so much vs rambling on about characterizations in canon I’m not enjoying. 

[smeowchi]

Helllllo! Don't mind silly Simple man asking you to ramble abt your fav AU that you created, wanna hear it<3

BOY HOWDY DO I HAVE SOME AUS FOR YA

Or, well, one is more of a story? Kinda? Set between seasons 1 & 2

Either way I love both of em so I’m gonna talk about both of em! ;3c (Below a cut because there’s gonna be. a lot.)

Okay, so first off, we have what I’ve decided to finally name properly (totally not just thought up a cool name as I’m typing this, haha, what, nooo..)

Re: Chipped!

It’s a lot of what I’ve posted about in terms of AUs, and what I’ve gotten built up the most out of the two of em. Essentially, on a very base level, it’s ‘haha what if PAMA didn’t fully leave Lukas and takes over his body again’

You can actually find the first chapter of it here! I’m still working on chapter two because life stuff has kicked me, but yknow! It’s something I adore a good bit, given I both adore angst and such, and Lukas is one of ,y favorites <3 (Sorry, buddy, you must suffer because I like you!)

Beyond just the basic ‘what if’ premise, though, it has a lot more detail. It’s not just the regular ‘oh, PAMA is back, people get chipped again/it gets policed’, nonono. Not only does PAMA study Lukas and learn how to fly under the Radar (quite literally, in one case, haha), but after Harper is called to deal with the situation.. PAMA gains a new directive. Not to mention the fact that PAMA is able to blend in a lot more easily, due to the ‘red eye’ thing.. not exactly being as prevalent anymore. Who knows what’ll happen if PAMA isn’t kept under lock and key. Especially once it remembers Redstonia or the portal hallway from Lukas’ memories..

In terms of my other (and actually proper) AU, Admin’s Pawns, here’s a blurb I typed up on a previous post!

“Have you ever wanted to see what would happen if Season 2 starred all the ‘villains’ from the portal hall arc? Well, now you can! Romeo’s picked up a new set of champions, enemies from Jesse’s past who have been specially trained to catch them off guard and attempt to defeat them. Cassie (+ Winslow <3), Aiden, Hadrian, Mevia, and even a few extra familiar faces make an appearance, as the Admin’s army grows to give Beacontown’s hero an adventure they’ll never forget.. for better, or worse.”

It’s also something I’ve been writing here and there, and will post on AO3 at some point! ;3c

There, alas, isn’t much to share story-wise, given it’s not fully fleshed out, but I can share some character details! Although Romeo had to fight tooth and nail to get the group together in the first place, especially given his powers don’t work as well when not in the ‘base world’. When gathering those who were through the portal hallway, he was much weaker. But boy, oh boy, would it be worth it.

Aiden was trained as a sort of guard. Relying on strength alone whilst fighting, and being able to give blows while tanking some himself, he wields an enchanted diamond claymore.

Cassie is much more stealth-based. She relies on being able to catch the enemy off guard. An assassin or rogue type, if you will. Using a hooded cloak, and a face mask reminiscent of her serial killer alter ego, she’s able to stick to the shadows. Popping out to swing one of her diamond axes through her target before using one of her handcrafted ender pearl throwing knives to teleport away again. (She also does keep Winslow with her at all times, not wanting to risk potentially losing him again.)

Hadrian and Mevia’s roles aren’t exactly solidified yet, unfortunately. But as of right now, they’re more advisors than anything. Not exactly fighting, but doing things behind the scenes. That, or you can also think of them as the equivalent to Statler and Waldorf from The Muppets. (/hj)

Amongst their living quarters, however, there seems to be.. a workshop of some sort. The group has been advised never to open the door, but they can hear the goings on within. Sometimes hearing voices, one of which ringing slight bells to only Aiden. The other, however, remains a mystery. Oh, well. Best to follow the boss’ orders, right?

Sorry, I know this is a lot to read, but if you have questions or wanna know more, feel free to ask!! I’d love to share more about my silly things <;3c (This goes for anyone btw, not just Simple!)

[irisintheafterglow]

Izuko x reader?

Mine (pro!Midoriya Izuku x You)

summary: during a coordinated attack on hero agencies, the number one hero tells you to jump.

word count: 1.6k

cw: descriptions of injuries, canon-typical violence, explosions, swearing, brief mention of the marvel cinematic universe and the multiverse

tags: strangers to lovers, meet ugly, he falls first but you fall (literally), i want to marry prohero deku

note: hi, thank you for your request! i hope you like it! title is based on the taylor swift song, same as most of my other works lol.

likes/reblogs/feedback are always appreciated :))

“Do you think you’d still find me if we were living in another universe?” Toned arms wrapped around your body as you laid your head on his chest, tracing the scars on his forearms with your fingers. He mutters the question into the top of your head, resting his head on top of yours. 

“Of course, I would, babe.” One of your favorite things about dating Izuku is how unapologetically imaginative he was, and how comfortable he felt sharing the random ideas that popped into his brain with you. “Why? What’s on your mind?”

He shrugs, releasing you temporarily as you adjust your position with him on the couch and snag the remote to put on a movie. “Nothing, just thinking about alternate realities and stuff.” 

You can’t help but laugh a little bit at the poorly-masked earnestness in his voice. “You’re taking the new MCU arc too seriously, Zuku.” Opening the first streaming service you see, you scroll through the options and land on a nature documentary about monkeys in Southeast Asia. 

“But if the multiverse is real–” 

You cut him off with a quick peck on the corner of his pretty mouth. “Then we’d make our way to each other, somehow.” 

“You really think so?”

“I know so, Zu.” He hums in contentment and pulls you closer to him, shutting his eyes in pure happiness. “Promise that if we ever get thrown into a different universe you’ll find me?”

“I promise. You’re the best thing that’s ever been mine.”

You’d fallen for him a year ago, quite literally. 

After studying patrol patterns for months, a villain organization had planted explosives on the structural supports of top hero agencies in a coordinated attack to confuse pros on what to prioritize first, their own agencies or the agency that just happened to be closer to them. You were a support tech for the Dynamight agency, responsible for repairing his gauntlets and subtly changing the design plan to make them more efficient despite his adamant protests that they didn’t need upgrades. 

When the first blast went off, it felt like the building had turned into a ship in the middle of a raging ocean, tilting the floor to a sharp angle as equipment and tools fell from shattered windows. Agency workers screamed as they slid to the opposite side of the room, desperately trying to make it to the only staircase that remained intact. Struggling to regain your footing, you stumbled toward the solid ground as the second explosive detonated, throwing you forward to the other side of the workshop. Scrapes and scratches covered your exposed forearms, and a deep gash throbbed on your upper thigh from a worktable you’d barely managed to avoid. 

Your hand found the handle of a locked supply closet door, and your arms shook with effort as you pulled other employees in the direction of the staircase, throat sore from yelling to get away from the gaping windows. When the last of the other techs were safely hurrying down the stairs, you planted your legs and tried to climb to the stairwell despite the increasingly steep angle of the floor as the building continued to slump sideways. But, sooner than you could reach the exit, the lock on the door broke, swinging the door open as miscellaneous power tools showered you and threatened to knock off your grip on the handle. You hung there, completely defenseless and alone, poised to fall straight through an open window once your hand strength failed. A flash of dark green caught your eye from the corner of your vision, and you saw a figure standing against a neighboring building. A tendril of flowing black energy reached out to you and you strained to grab it, but it pulled back quickly as a chunk of concrete narrowly missed your hanging body. 

“Oi, Deku! Is everybody out?!” The familiar sound of Bakugo’s gauntlets you had recently upgraded cut through the sound of falling debris, and you felt oddly comforted knowing that he was there. Your ears strained to hear the shouted conversation between Bakugo and the unknown voice. 

“Kacchan! What are you doing here?” 

“This is my agency, dumbass! Did everyone get out?”

“No, there’s one more person inside, but the debris is making it hard for me to get through.” 

“Shit, that’s the extra who fixes my stuff.”

“Is now really the best time to be referring to civilians as extras, Kacchan?” 

There’s a pause in their conversation, and for a second you worry thinking that they’d abandoned you. You were gonna die and the last thing you hear is two men bickering. Go figure. 

Bakugo’s rough voice sounded through the noises of crumbling concrete and bending metal. “Fucking hell, they hit Todoroki’s agency.”

“Go, Kacchan. I’ll get this last person and then meet you there.”

“If they die on your watch, dumbass–”

“You’ll kill me and everyone that I love! I know I know, I know! Just get the hell out of here, Kacchan!” The sound of gauntlet blasts receded into the distance.

“Hey!” Suddenly, the figure was talking to you, waving its arms to get your attention. “You need to jump! I’m gonna catch you!”

You managed to get your other hand on the door handle but were still just as in precarious of a position as you were before. “You’re out of your mind!” You screamed back, and the figure looked around anxiously, clenching and unclenching their fists worriedly. 

“This building is gonna come down at any minute with you inside! Please, just trust me!” A glance back at the stairwell revealed a gaping hole and the horrifying realization that you had to let go of the door sent panic through your entire body. The figure must have sensed your panic, too. “Hey! You’re gonna be okay, I promise! Just push off that wall and jump toward me, okay? I’m gonna catch you!” Eyes wide, you looked at the figure and they nodded, holding out a gloved hand presumably for you to grab onto. 

After a deep breath, you readied your feet against the wall the door was creaking dangerously on and launched yourself out of the nearest open window. The figure vanished in a blink as you fell through open air and squeezed your eyes shut in anticipation of hitting the ground. No death came, however, as you collided with a firm body and buried your head in its shoulder. The cold air stung the numerous scratches on your arms, and the wound on your thigh had gone so numb that you couldn’t feel the entire leg. Setting you on the ground, steady hands came up to support you when your legs gave out beneath you from exhaustion. 

“Hey, hey, hey. Stay with me. It’s gonna be really hard to ask you out if you go unconscious,” the same voice that told you to jump rang through your ears and you were sure you hallucinated the last part of that string of sentences. Your legs were swept from under you as a hand came to cradle your back and your head lulled against the chest of the person carrying you to a med tent. “Take care of them, please.”

“We will. Thank you, Deku.” 

Deku? 

When you finally came to, you carefully sat up, groaning at the blinding pain in your forehead and soreness in your legs. Eyes squinting against the harsh light inside the tent, your hands felt the sturdy canvas cot beneath you, and the memory of what happened returned to you in flashes. 

The plastic privacy curtain slid to the side, and you heard a relieved sigh as you struggled to keep your eyes open from the bright light. “You’re okay. Holy shit, I’m so glad you’re okay.” The figure moved to sit on a stool near your cot, and you finally had a clear picture of your rescuer’s freckled face and mop of green hair. You couldn’t do anything but sit there in shock that the person who’d saved you was the number one hero, and he’d actually returned to visit you instead of checking on his own agency. “It’s okay if you can’t talk right now; the dust might have irritated your vocal cords.”

Your voice comes out hoarse in ugly, but Deku still smiles at you warmly. “You…saved me?” 

“I kinda had to; I saw you doing my job before I had the chance to swing in.” Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “The others in the building, in the workshop with you? You were helping them to the stairway, right?” You nodded weakly, and his eyes shined in awe. “That was really brave of you to do. I just wanted to tell you since Kacchan’s probably gonna yell at you for prioritizing others instead of yourself.” 

“Oh, goodie. I can hear him now,” you sarcastically deadpan. Deku’s laugh is bright and friendly, and you can’t help but smile a little bit too. “Thank you, Deku, for saving me.” His mouth gapes and you swear his face turns slightly redder. “I’m really grateful that you came for me.” You shakily reach for his hand, giving it a little squeeze and feeling your heart stop when he squeezes back. “I know it’s not typical protocol for being saved by a pro hero, but could I maybe buy you dinner sometime? As payback for not letting me fall to my death?”

He stutters, combing a calloused hand through his messy hair. “Yeah, I’d love that.”

“Alright, Deku, uh–”

“Izuku.”

“Hmm?”

“Call me Izuku. Please.” 

“Alright, then, Izuku, do you have a favorite spot to eat?” 

And somewhere between then and now, going out became staying in, coffee dates became cooking together, an empty bed became a room for two, and Izuku became yours in a way that no one else could claim.

[yunalinwrites]

kids on christmas eve | gojo satoru x reader

available on wattpad

cover by me

summary: you learn about what happened with geto suguru and make him talk to you about it

about reader: gender neutral, relationship to gojo is unclear but they're close, on a first name basis + implied to be romantic

warnings: sad (if i did my job right), mild cursing, spoilers for jjk 0 + gojo's past/hidden inventory/star plasma vessel arc

notes: i know this is really out of season bc christmas has long passed but its for the plot lol as u prob know dec 24th is an important date

anyways i prob could've edited more but tbh i just wanted to post it already lmao hope its not cringe cuz i didn't shower to finish it (avg jjk degenerate) also im angry this was correctly formatted in google docs but tumblr ruined it and i cant b bothered to reread it under the new formatting so srry if theres smth wrong

"Gojo-sensei, that's not fair!"

Itadori had his bottom lip stuck out, his arms crossed tightly and his feet stomping against the snow.

"Yeah, come on!" Kugisaki agreed, mitten-clad hands full of the cold ammunition. "Turn it off, will you?"

You looked over to where Satoru stood. The snowballs that floated around him made it a little hard to see, but you could still tell his face was like it always was: smiling, the only deviation from its usual state being the pink on his pale nose. The rosy shade was just like his tongue when he stuck it out. 

"Come and make me," he taunted.

"Why, you little..." Kugisaki grumbled. "Okay, Itadori, Formation B!"

"Roger!" Itadori yelled back.

The pair performed a number of flashy poses--as if they were trying to imitate something they'd seen in a cartoon--and before you knew it, they were charging at Satoru from two sides, arms fully loaded and wound back with mounds of snow. But it seemed Satoru knew it before you, because he just tsked--didn't even bother catching the snowballs, just let them fall apart against his forcefield.

"Gojo-sensei!" the two groaned in unison.

"You're no fun!" Itadori complained.

"It's not supposed to be fun," Satoru countered with a playful shrug. "Just because it's a snow day doesn't mean you can stop training."

"But... but... But what about...!" Kugisaki sputtered, a vein popping out of her forehead as she struggled to come up with an argument. You could almost see the lightbulb pop up above her head as she pounded her fist in her palm. "But what about global warming?"

"Yeah!" Itadori followed, not thinking. "What about--Wait, what?" Scratching his head, he tilted his head at Kugisaki.

"It could totally be the last day it ever snows, you know," she claimed matter-of-factly, her hands on her hips. "And I would so hate you forever."

Itadori's mouth formed a silent "Oh!" as Kugisaki elaborated. Nodding his head in accord, he added on: "Yeah, Gojo-sensei. I don't think I could respect you after that."

Satoru put on a dramatic pout at that last sentence, but he soon returned to a smile and gave in with a sigh. "Alright, just this once."

You could see the two students loudly jumping for joy from behind him as he made his way towards where you were sitting. You smiled warmly at the sight.

"They really are something," you commented.

"Tell me about it," Fushiguro grumbled, leaning boredly against the wooden armrest of the park bench. He observed quietly as his friends built a snowman in the distance until Satoru's towering shadow prompted him to look up.

"Megumi!" Satoru called, his voice high-pitched and sing-song. "Go play with the others."

The boy scowled in response. "I'm too old for that stuff."

"You think you're old?" Satoru challenged. He pointed at his hair, at the white color it's always been. "What does that make me?" He hunched over and put his hand on his lower spine, feigning back pain. "C'mon, listen to your teacher. Let me sit next to Y/N."

Fushiguro squinted at him for a moment before finally getting up."Gross."

You chuckled, watching the boy begrudgingly drag his feet through the snow towards his classmates, but your laughter hitched as you felt something push against you. Turning to your right, you saw his lanky teacher. At first the sensation didn’t make sense, considering that there was a considerable amount of distance between the two of you, but you soon recalled his defense measures and the complaints they had garnered. 

Not noticing your discomfort, he stared up at the cloudy sky for a moment before turning to you. 

"Are you cold?" he asked.

You shook your head. "I should be asking you," you replied, referencing his lack of winter wear. "Why didn't you wear a coat?"

"Well, it would ruin my outfit, of course," he stated perkily. He wore a confident smirk on his face, but looking closer you could tell he was shivering beneath the thin fabric of his uniform.

Taking a deep breath in disapproval, you reached for your scarf. "Here," you offered, unraveling the knot you’d made earlier. But when you reached to wrap it around his neck, you felt the resistance of his invisible force.

His smile eased. "It's okay," he obliged, sniffling. "Thank you, though."

You hesitated before tying your scarf back around yourself, the garment's chunky knit giving it enough volume to nearly cover your mouth and even your ears, but you could still hear his teeth chatter. You searched your surroundings, looking past the dead snow-adorned trees and following the wet pavement until you spotted something in the distance: a cafe, just down the street from where you were.

"I'll get you some hot chocolate," you decided, standing up and brushing the snowflakes off your coat.

"You don't--"

"Shh!" You pointed your finger threateningly at him before turning around to begin your walk. "Somehow you've bent logic so far that you'll end up sick if you don't drink it. So just take this as an excuse to have more sweets, alright?"

You were just about to make your first step away from the bench, but then you felt a firm grip wrap around your arm. "Wait, Y/N--"

Before he could finish his protest, he was cut off by a particularly firmly packed snowball striking him right in the middle of his face, highlighting his nose with the sparkling white powder and dislodging his blindfold. With his cerulean eyes now exposed, he turned his head and saw the three of them: Itadori pointing and cackling on the left, Kugisaki doing the same keeled over in the middle, and even Fushiguro, on the right, had the ends of his mouth perked up as he shook his head hopelessly.

You saw Satoru grin at the picture, but it was contradictory to what you were feeling. He had let go of your arm, but not by relaxing his hand--you felt him, as if brick by brick, build that invisible wall right back up between you, seemingly stronger than ever. You could still feel it, even as he walked away towards the trio, tying his blindfold back on. Sighing, you sat back down and watched him make snow angels with the others, his head blending right in with the scene as he drowned himself in the blinding whiteness. With his blindfold now fully on, you could only imagine what it was like when he smiled with his eyes.

***

"I can't feel my toes."

Twirling her brown hair between her fingers, Shoko spun around in her chair to face the doorway.

She darted her eyes between you and Satoru for a second before a calm, amused expression painted her face. Despite knowing it was his voice she heard--though it was more nasal than usual--she directed her question at you: "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"I told him to wear thicker socks!" you exclaimed, your arms crossed in frustration. "But look! Show her."

Rolling his eyes behind his blindfold, Satoru pulled the fabric on his thighs, lifting the hems of his pants so that they revealed his ankles. They were barely covered by the cheap red and green striped polyester; it was the kind of thing you'd spot on sale in packs at the checkouts during Christmas season.

“So I forgot… Big deal!”

“I could fill a library with all the things you forgot,’” you complained. “I mean, what are you, a fish?”

Unfazed, Shoko chuckled. "You're telling me the strongest--the one powerful enough to rival the King of Curses--was defeated by a case of frostbite?"

The both of you responded simultaneously: "Exactly." "No!"

"I was not defeated," he insisted, earning a glare from you. "Barely a scratch. She's just being dramatic."

"I am not--"

"Is there a reason you can't heal yourself?" Shoko interrupted, now turned to Satoru.

He pointed his thumb in your direction accusingly. "She wanted to come here, not me."

"Wait," you interjected. "You can heal yourself?”

“Of course, duh.”

“Since when?"

"High school," he answered dismissively, wiping his nose with his sleeve. "See, look!"

He pointed down to his shoes--through the leather of his dress boots, you could see the movement of his wriggling toes. 

You held your hands up to hide his feet from your sight. “Ew, stop that--" you grimaced. "Why didn't you tell me?"

He shrugged, smirking smugly. "My talent should go without saying."

You sighed. “Your talent to bewilder me?”

"You know it,” he asserted proudly. "But anyways–Can I go now?"

Before you could even answer, you could sense him already moving in your peripheral vision.

"Satoru, wait--"

"If you don't believe I'm fine, I'll show you my toes," he threatened, halfway out the door.

"Satoru--!"

"Go on, catch me if you can!"

You listened, trying to grab onto him but, once again, his Infinity blocked you, making you stumble into Shoko's arms as it pushed you backwards. By the time you regained your balance and rushed into the hallway, his long strides and newly healed feet had already carried him beyond your sight.

You sighed and re-entered the room, brushing yourself off. "Do you have anything for a cold?" you asked.

"I should," Shoko replied, opening up one of her medicine cabinets. "Why, are you feeling okay?"

"Yeah, no, it's for him," you explained. "He's had a runny nose all week. I told him not to go out in the snow with the kids, but... You know how he is."

She hummed in acknowledgement with an understated smile, picking out a bottle of Acetaminophen capsules. Making her way over to you, she held up the container.

"I have these," she told you, but she didn't hand them to you; she just kept holding it up as she continued, "but, in my professional opinion, I don't think he has a cold."

"What do you mean?" you asked, your brow raised.

"Y/N, do you know what tomorrow is?"

"It's... the 24th."

"Mhm."

"So... Christmas Eve?"

She looked down at the floor, placing the bottle on a nearby counter and leaning back against it, getting comfortable. She stayed quiet for a moment, biting her lip in deep thought as she continued to stare at the floor with her arms crossed. But then, finally, she sighed, and reached into her coat pocket for a cigarette.

"Would you like one?" she offered, flicking the lighter at the end of the stick

"Um... No thank you..."

"Have a seat." She gestured to the metal seat against the wall.

Still thoroughly confused, you did as you were told. You felt as if your parents were about to have a stern "talk" with you--as if you had broken a vase or--arguably worse--it was time for you to understand the birds and the bees. That thought, along with the cold steel beneath you, sent chills up your body.

In an attempt to quell your anxiety, you beat her to the punch and spoke up: "You went to high school together, didn't you?"

She blew out a lengthy tangle of smoke strings. "That's right," she answered.

You shifted in your seat. "Has he always been... like this?"

"No,” she chuckled, bringing the cigarette back to her lips. "He used to wear glasses."

Your eyebrows shot up as you leaned forward in shock. "Seriously?"

She reached into her coat pocket again, this time producing a small print of a photo. 

You took the glossy sheet from her hands and studied it, your mouth agape. Sure enough, there he was, on Shoko's right, smiling widely with his hair down and a pair of round sunglasses, both of them holding up peace signs. But, while Shoko's arm was clearly holding up the camera for the selfie, one of Satoru’s arms appeared to be wrapped around the shoulders of a black-haired man you didn't recognize.

Your brows furrowed at the sight. "Who's the one on the left?"

The scent of the nicotine got stronger as she took her time to ponder her answer, staring blankly into the back of the photo beneath your thumbs.

"That's Geto Suguru,” she finally told you.

You scanned his portrait meticulously. The man wore a grumpy expression with dark bags under his eyes and, contrary to the cheerful pose of the other two, he was flipping off the camera.

“Was he an upperclassman?” you asked.

She shook her head. “He was our classmate.” She gestured towards the photo with her cigarette. “We were all second-years there.”

“No way…” Holding the photo closer, you could have sworn you saw the outline of ear gauges behind Shoko’s head. “He looks so much older.”

You returned the photo to her and she slipped it back in her pocket, not taking even a glance at it as she did. She just spoke plainly: “He’s Satoru’s best friend.”

You tilted your head to the side. “Really? I wonder why I haven’t heard of him, then."

She took another puff, turning her face away from you as she let it out. “Tomorrow is his death anniversary.”

Your eyes widened before falling to the floor. “Oh… I see…”

You fell into a solemn trance, not knowing what you should or shouldn’t say and, consequently, opting to stay quiet out of respect. But, suddenly, you were interrupted by the sound of light laughter. 

“Even if he were still with us, I doubt you would’ve been able to tell. They bickered so much you’d think they hated each other.”

She walked around to the other side of the counter, leaning forward on it as she rested her hand on her palm.

“Who could get to class faster… Who could shoot more hoops in a minute… Who could make a bigger crater in the courtyard…”

You tried to imagine the pair wreaking havoc on an older version of the Jujutsu Tech Campus, but while it was easy to fit Satoru’s cheeky grin into all of these scenarios, it was hard to see such a mature-looking person as Geto doing these childish things.

“Ah, but you know, Y/N,” she started, looking up at you with a smile. “I think you would have been able to tell that Suguru was actually younger.”

“What?” you gasped, surprised at both the fact that he was younger and that Shoko thought that would be clear to you. “There’s no way…”

“Well, for starters, Suguru is shorter, if you put them side-by-side,” she argued. “And… Hm…”

She stopped to contemplate how to put together her next sentence–or if she should even do so at all. But in the end, she brought her cigarette back to her lips and exhaled: “I think you would have agreed with me that he’s the more immature one.”

Your brows furrowed as you scoffed in disbelief. “That's impossible… Satoru could be ten-feet tall and not a single thing on this planet could make him seem more mature than another person.”

She chuckled, though you could sense a sadness behind the sound, and you realized that your comment might’ve come off as insensitive. Clearing your throat, awkwardly, you granted her the floor: “What makes you say that?”

She took another inhale and sighed out a long cloud. Looking out the window of her office, she saw the faint glow of the multicolored lights that decorated it on the outside. She took in the sight for a quiet moment before sinking into her swivel chair, puffing once more.

“I still don’t know much about his childhood,” she began. “I never asked, and I never got to meet his parents. But I can tell you for certain that Suguru was the sort of kid who threw a tantrum when he didn’t get what he wanted for Christmas.

“I’m sure he had wishlists a mile long, but he wouldn’t be the kind to write even a single letter about it to Santa. Of course, that’d make it difficult for his family, and maybe they could've tried harder to figure it out–but he just wouldn't understand why what he wanted wasn't obvious to everyone.

“I can imagine one day someone told him the truth about Santa, and he was probably absolutely devastated. But, to him, it wouldn't be about the presents. It would be about the people around him: his mom, his dad, his teachers, his neighbors, everyone–the people who had been deceiving him his whole life.

“I don't think he ever forgave anyone for that, all the way up until he found himself as a seventeen-year-old at Jujutsu High.”

The air became thick–suffocatingly so–and your spine no longer fit right against the back of the bench.

“What exactly… did he do?” 

She rolled her chair towards her desk and put out her cigarette, pushing and twisting it into the ashtray by her desk calendar.

“In a single night, he killed one hundred and twelve civilians–non-sorcerers–including his parents. He wanted to create a world where only sorcerers exist.”

“O-oh my God…” Your hand rose up to cover your gaping mouth. “Wh.. Why?!”

“By killing non-sorcerers, you stop curses from the source.”

“But you can't just–” You cut yourself off, thousands of words rushing and racing to your mouth. “Didn't anyone try to stop him?”

“Maybe Satoru could've. If Suguru decided to tell him, that is.”

Your face was wound up in concern. “That's horrible…”

“I know, right?” she casually agreed.  “To want to be understood, but never willing to understand… Isn't it childish?” She even laughed. “Though, I suppose he was just a kid.”

“Just a kid?!” You stuck your head out in disbelief. “No, no… Satoru is childish. But that–that’s… inhumane!

You pointed to the door. “Satoru was a kid.”

You pointed to her. “You were a kid.”

Lowering your hand, you scrunched the hem of your shirt. “I might not have known you then, but I know you never would have done that.”

“To be fair, I'm not the strongest,” she defended plainly. “I'm just a doctor.”

The crease between your eyebrows deepened as you threw your arms up. “Okay–then Satoru! Satoru would never do something like that! And he… he's still a kid!”

“Satoru killed his best friend–his one and only.” She clasped her hands together on her desk. “A kid wouldn't do that, would they?”

You froze at the edge of your seat, blinking rapidly as you pieced together the puzzle.

“He… killed…?” you trailed off.

Shoko stared grimly at her hands as she tightened her grip on herself. “A kid wouldn’t have understood.”

You bore your eyes into her, waiting, begging for her to continue, to elaborate, to make it make sense, but she just stayed quiet, kept to herself.

You directed your eyes to the freshly polished floor tiles. As you stared into the blurry reflection of yourself, you tried imagining it again: Satoru, tall and white haired, and this kid grumpy little kid he called Suguru, wreaking havoc on the old campus of Jujutsu High: walking to class together, dribbling a basketball between each other, meeting up in the courtyard with one another.

 “That…” you began hesitantly. “That still doesn't excuse what happened.”

Shoko looked up at you, for the first time in what felt like an eternity, and though she wasn’t as contented as she had been before your conversation, her expression was no longer grave; she seemed satisfied. Slowly, she put her palms on her desk and pushed herself up from her seat.

“To answer your question from earlier–properly,” she started, making her way over to you. “I think that Satoru has always been that way–the way Gojo Satoru has to be.”

“But if there were ever a time that he weren’t,” she interjected, sliding her hand into her coat pocket.

“It would have been thanks to him.”

***

Your footsteps echoed down the empty hallway, stopping every once in a while to slide open one of the stiff doors only to struggle to shut it a moment later. You increased the reach of your steps, and the thump of your shoes against the wood planks competed with the hooting owl perched on the snow covered roof.

Suddenly, you heard a new noise: a honking, like that of a goose, coming from the end of the hall and slightly to the left. Now picking up to a jog, you made a beeline for the door and jerked it open.

“Well, if it isn’t my long-awaited Christmas present!” he exclaimed. “Looks like Santa’s early this year.”

He rested against the corner of one of the student’s desks, already facing you with his hands in his pocket. From behind him, you could just barely see the white crumpled-up balls of tissue that scattered the surface.

“I guess some people do gifts on Christmas Eve though, right?” he considered, putting a finger to his chin. “But, ah… choosing gifts is so hard. I need all the time I can get.”

He didn’t acknowledge your entrance at all; his Six Eyes had seen it coming miles away, allowing him enough time to get into position to pick up wherever you’d last left off. You didn’t acknowledge him either, keeping a stone face as you stepped into the room.

“What’s with the face, hm? Did you not like your presents?”

“Satoru,” you said sternly.

“Did you ask Santa for anything this year?” he went on, continuing to pay you no mind.

You sighed. You couldn’t help but let the ends of your lips pick up, but you kept your eyes down at the dirtied pattern of the floor.

“I don’t celebrate Christmas,” you admit.

“What? Why not?” he questioned astonishedly, forming a pout. “Does that mean you didn’t get me a present?”

You shook your head lightly, making your way over to him. “I’ve always thought it was sort of weird. To celebrate the birth of a martyr.”

“Hm,” he sounded. “Well that’s no fun.”

Planting his hands on the surface, he hoisted himself up onto his desk. “Santa probably wouldn’t give anything other than coal to a non-believer,” he noted. “But since I’m so nice, I’ll get you something. Just tell me–what is it that you want for Christmas?”

His smile stayed in place as you darted your pupils around his visage, your own face beginning to fall. You took slow steps towards the desk next to him, getting as close as you could before you felt his Infinity push back

“Satoru, can you do me a favor?” you requested gently.

“Depends on what the favor is,” he chirped back.

Reaching your hand out, you traced your forefinger on the edge of the invisible barrier before applying pressure into it, testing the shield’s strength. You pushed with all your might, but all it did was whiten your finger tip and make your knuckles concave.

You retracted, looking back into his eyes. “Can you take it down?”

You could see the movement of his eyebrows raising beneath his blindfold. “You tryna kill me?”

Again, you shook your head, still solemn. 

He crossed his arms and squinted at you, biting his cheek. Leaning back, he put his weight onto his hands behind him, loosely grabbing the edge of his desk, his expression becoming relaxed. “Alright. Here you go.”

You took another small step into the newfound space until you were only inches apart. Slowly, you extended both your hands towards his face, but then suddenly reeled them back into a hesitant fist in disbelief, the lack of resistance uncomfortably foreign.

You inhaled deeply through your nose and exhaled the air shakily through your mouth, trying hard to slow the rapid beating in your chest. Ignoring the smirk on his face, you tried to reach out to him, one final time.

Letting your arms wrap around his head, your hands searched his silky hair for the knot that held up his eye covering. When you finally felt the bump, you took your time digging your nails into where the fabric held onto itself, carefully pulling apart its loops.

As the blindfold fell to his neckline, his signature grin stayed plastered on his face, but just about every other feature of his seemed to change completely when the white wisps came down to frame them. His azure eyes, for example, glimmered under the faint moonlight coming through the window, but not in the way that they usually did. They were shining like lacquer, but it was as if, from underneath that, their batteries had been taken out. In their dullness, you could see the reflection of the long white lashes resting on the eyelids above, forming sharp, unnatural shapes as they clumped together unevenly. Pink waterlines painted the bottom of his irises, and a faint red was seemingly airbrushed around the surrounding puffy skin.

You trailed your hands down the back of his head until they cupped his jawline, holding his face as you explored its entirety. Moving from his eyes to his flushed, leaking nose, his smirk grew when your gaze landed on his lips.

“Are you sure you want to use your gift on this?” he teased. “Kind of a waste, in my opinion–you could’ve just found a mistletoe.”

“Satoru.”

“Hmm?”

“I want you to stop smiling.”

For a moment, he listened to you: his mouth fell open, but then it fell back into its previous position as he flashed his teeth at you. “My bad. I didn’t mean to blind you.”

“Please?”

He kept still while your thumb gently stroked his powder-smooth cheek. He jolted slightly as his lungs forced out a nervous chuckle, but he trailed off as your touch continued on him. Realizing your relentlessness, he sucked in his lips and clamped them together with his teeth as if he was trying to stop any further laughter.

He stayed like this for a moment, waiting for you to let go, but your tender movements showed no signs of stopping–you only slowed down when your eyes flitted up to meet his. He tried his best to return your stare, but eventually, he accepted defeat in the contest. And so, little by little, he let his lips roll out and the muscles to dispose into a resting state.

His voice became low, a near whisper. “Is… everything okay?”

Finally removing your hands from him, you nodded. Returning them to yourself, you glided one into the back pocket of your pants.

Taking a step back, you held up the sheet of glossy photo paper side-by-side with his face. You could name a number of differences: the neckline of the teacher’s uniform was looser and higher, his bangs now were longer and a bit thicker, and, of course, he wasn’t wearing glasses, and he wasn’t smiling. But, somehow, now more than ever, you could see the resemblance.

“What have you got there?”

Moving towards him again, you handed him the photo. It felt strange, witnessing the rare sight of his pupils’ every rapid move. And in addition to that, ever so slightly, you could see his swollen under eyes rise as the softest of smiles pushed up his cheeks. It was nothing like the sickeningly-sweet beamings you were used to seeing from him, though; it was subdued, raw like the cacao in dark chocolate, undiluted by sugar or milk.

“Where did you get this?” he asked, incredulous.

“Like you said, Santa came early,” you joked mildly.

“No, really,” he persisted, his tone reaching a bass you’d never heard from him before. “Where did you get this?”

You sat yourself on the desk next to him. “Shoko,” you admitted.

“What did she tell you?”

Your shrug was subtle.  “As much as she could.”

He continued to scrutinize the photo in his hands, his brows drawing together.

“Satoru,” you proceeded, hushed. “If it’s okay… I’d like it if you told me about it.”

He lowered the photo so that it no longer obstructed his view of you, but he didn’t take advantage of the space he gave himself; he kept staring at the photo as he spoke: “There’s not much to tell about. I was the strongest then and I’m the strongest now.”

You rested your hands on your lap and exhaled deeply. “That’s not what I mean,” you contested. 

It was as if he couldn’t hear you, continuing to stare vapidly into the photo as if somehow your sentence didn’t make it to his ears. But that was impossible; you’d said what you said, and the room was dead silent.

“I… I want you to tell me about him,” you clarified.

He shifted in his seat, finally looking away from the photo and up at you. “You mean… Geto Suguru?” he asked, as if there were any other ‘him’ in that photo. 

“Well… he’s the worst of all curse users,” he offered. He then shoved the photo back in your direction, a sudden grin straining itself on his face. “But it’s okay. He’s gone now.”

Ignoring his move, you asked, “Is it really okay?”

“I made sure of it,” he affirmed, impatiently nudging the paper at you.

He resumed his usual playful lilt. “Are you doubting me?” he tested.

“I don’t doubt you for a second–not in that sense. You’ve always been strong,” you reassured him. “But that’s exactly why I doubt you know how to be weak.”

He scoffed. “You think Gojo Satoru would know how to be weak?”

“No, I don’t. That’s my whole point,” you upheld firmly.

He folded his arms across his chest, his mocking tone sharpening: “Why would anyone want to know how to be weak?”

“Because even Gojo Satoru needs to realize he can’t just smile and laugh all the time,” you challenged, feeling heat rise up your neck.

His eyes darkened, seemingly into a navy blue, and his inflection further condescended: “There are a lot of things you don’t understand.”

“Satoru, how on earth am I supposed to understand?!” 

As your tone cut through, just as abruptly you pushed the desk behind you and dropped heavily to your feet.

“You’re right, I don't understand you,” you confessed frustratedly, pointing to yourself. “I don’t understand you at all. Because how could I possibly understand you? I can’t see your eyes, I can’t even get near you, and I’ve never seen you not smile.”

Your voice made gaps as your vocal cords threatened sobs. “And sure, I call you by your first name, and I laugh and I smile at all your dumb jokes and… and the idiotic games you play…

“But it’s–it’s… scary, Satoru. Creepy, even. How you know just about everything there is to know about me and yet… It's like I don’t even know who you are. You’re just a toy in the corner, watching everyone come in and out of the room, but I can never make you say or be or feel anything.”

“Feelings are what made him into who he was,” he stated coldly, his eyes fixed on the grimy floor. “It’s important for sorcerers to have a hold on their emotions.”

“So you know what happens, then,” you argued firmly, your shoes coming into his view as you stepped closer. “You know what it’s like to be shut out from them.”

You pushed his chin up, forcing him to witness the way you were holding on desperately to the tears that bordered your lower waterline.

“Doesn’t it hurt?”

“Do you always get Sprite?” he’d asked, looking down as his friend retrieved his drink from the bottom of the machine.

“I mean… yeah, I guess,” Suguru replied plainly. “Why?”

A pit formed in his stomach as he heard the crack of the can opening.

“Shit. I’ve been getting you Coke this whole time,” he’d mumbled. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

Suguru shrugged, beginning to head in the direction of the classroom. “It’s not that big of a deal.”

“Dude, are you good?”

Suguru jolted awake, sitting up from the plush back of the couch and nearly spilling the bowl of popcorn in his lap.

“Do you wanna watch something else?” he’d suggested, but Suguru just shook his head.

“I thought you liked Digimon,” Suguru objected.

“Well yeah, but…”

The only lighting came from the flashing screen, but it was enough for him to see his friend yawn, making his eyes water, dark bags underneath them.

“You can turn it up if you want,” was all Suguru had to say, but even after doing what Suguru said, he couldn’t focus on his favorite TV show.

“I know you said you didn’t want anything,” he started, reaching into his bag. “But here.”

“What’s this?” Suguru questioned.

“Your Christmas present, duh.”

“But it’s Christmas Eve,” Suguru pointed out. “And I told you–”

“I know! But just open it.”

He watched as Suguru lifted the lid of the small gray box, revealing a small pair of white gauges.

“I didn’t really know what size to get… But I think they’d look cool on you.”

“Thanks, Satoru.”

He lit up, thinking that he’d finally done something right by his friend, but the way that Suguru looked up at him, the way Suguru smiled insincerely, told him he should’ve waited for Christmas Day.

The tears were warm as they rolled down his face, past his trembling lip and blooming into the blindfold that rested loosely around his neck.

“I just don't understand why he didn’t talk to me.”

You pulled him into a hug, carding your fingers in his hair as you rested his head on your shoulder.

“He thought I hated him,” he told you shakily, finding himself clutching onto your shirt. “I didn’t see him for ten years and… and that whole time he thought I hated him.”

He inhaled a sharp sniffle. “I… I don’t hate him,” he whimpered, his pitch jumping and his body beginning to tremble. “I don’t hate him, Y/N, I don’t, I don’t, I never, ever did.”

“I know,” you whispered, stroking his hair, holding him tighter as he jerked with sobs.

He placed his head on your shoulder, staring at the blindfold that had unraveled itself and fallen between you. “I hate myself.”

You pulled back, cupping his jawline and holding it in front of you.

“Don’t say that…”

“But he was my best friend, Y/N,” he insisted, gripping desperately onto your shoulders. “I saw him every single day… every single day, all of that was running through his head and I… I didn’t even know… I just watched and… and I made him think I hated him. I was supposed to be his best friend.”

“You did everything you could, Satoru.”

“It was all my fault.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Then why did it happen?” he whined. “It had to have been for a reason–It can't just hurt and be for no reason. That wouldn’t be fair.”

“It’s not,” you told him, shaking your head gently and looking deeply into his eyes. “It’s not fair at all.”

Indicating the breaking of a dam, a deafening, siren-like wail pierced the air. His face was red and scrunched up, his nose was dripping with snot, and his hands were coming up to swipe desperately at the tears on his cheeks.

You pulled him close to you again as he kept hiccuping and sniffling into the crook of your neck. His loud weeping wet your shirt with both the fluids from his eyes and nose, but you didn’t care; you just rubbed his back, caressing him tenderly.

His voice was suddenly clearer as he took deep breaths to try and recuperate himself: “I’m sorry,” he murmured.

“Why are you sorry?” you asked, stiffening your hold on him.

“I just… I don’t know. I hate crying. I’m not a kid anymore, you know?” he tried laughing.

“Satoru,” you whispered delicately, turning your head so your words rested right by his ear. “You were never a kid.”

Gently, you pressed his head into you, stopping him from moving his lips in any way. “I want you to be one right now.”

You let him stay in your arms for a while until his tears subsided and his breathing steadied. You had moved to the floor at some point, allowing him to comfortably lean on you as you embraced him, his previous quivering replaced now by the calm rhythm of his rising and falling figure.

He hadn’t talked in a while, so you assumed he’d fallen asleep, but then, among his mellow breathing, a mumble came up right by your ear:

“Thank you,” he’d said.

Hugging him tighter, you patted him on the back softly. “Of course.”

As one hand traveled to intertwine its fingers in his hair, you reached for your phone with your other one.

You pressed the power button on its side, and flinched backward, squinting at the brightness your phone screen emitted. Despite your sudden movement, Satoru didn’t show any sort of reaction; he’d fallen asleep, for sure now.

You continued to comb through his white locks, a little more consciously now, as you made note of the time and date your phone’s clock displayed, changing right before your eyes:

December 25th, 00:00

You smiled, dragging your coat up to cover the both of you as you laid your head on his shoulder.

“Merry Christmas, Satoru.”

***

might do a toji x megumi's teacher reader if u wanna follow

[arsene-fixates]

My story for Gordon and Rose

okay another heads up, I only got to the climax of the story and there might be more to be revealed about the two of them, BUT this is the story I’ve made up with the existing information I have on hand

ITS LIKE A ‘they could be really profound if their relationship was like this’ sort of ramble. I was feeling so light headed at the thought of their relationship.

ALSO I got a bit excited typing this so there’s a section that’s almost all in caps AND THIS POST IS PRETTY LENGHTY TOO

spoilers under the cut as usual ^_^

Talking about Gordon again, a character I’ve talked about last week on a different topic (essentially it is his villain arc)

One of the the first things you learn about him is that other than being a descendant of a founder, he had also ran away from home with a lover that he was going to marry, Rose. And he eventually comes back because she had disappeared into the mist. He speaks of her as the sweetest girl and he mopes over her disappearance for Quite A Long time, which was foreshadowing to how he is a very emotional person

Later down the road as we’re going through her things I think? We find out that Rose had practiced using the crossbow and when he found out he was quite shocked about it like he didn’t know what to think of it, he never knew that side of her

Then as the shadows (crime organisation) pop up, there’s a lot of in the middle stuff but then the old leader got thrown off and a new person came in its place, and me, informant and a couple other people were speculating that she was a woman (informant stated that he caught the scent of rose and iron in the office when he was sneaking in)

Bunch more down the road, we’ve been seeing a lot of rose symbols around and informant tells me of how it reminds him of a castle he came across when he was young and it was a castle in ruins belonging to a family that was once wealthy

The family wanted to gain control over the city, and tried to as well but failed multiple times. They hated people in power and eventually fell into ruin. Following that, it’s descendants joined the shadows and they use the symbol of a rose on their weapons in which btw, was found on rose’s items and on her crossbow

I SHOULD HAVE CONNECTED THE DOTS ALREADY BUT LOL I WAS A BIT SLOW

Then we find out more about who rose was as a person, and she was someone who was very adventurous and would do anything to get her way, and there wasn’t necessarily any gossip about her, but people were wary of her which I think is well enough to assume there were at least a few things about her being said around the city. Like she once stole a dancer’s costume to get into a play (which was where she met Gordon) because she was someone who was poor, and she also had some strange fascination with a group that evaded the law a lot

She was someone who disliked nobility, and yet, she was getting engaged to Gordon which I Find Is So Fascinating I will explain to you what I think their relationship was like later

anyways suddenly we see fire and a fight breaking out between Gordon and the leader of the shadows, he had been stung by wasps which paralyses him and we find him tied to a tree, with the leader pointing their gun right at him, and informant shoots something at the leader to make them miss their aim

And AND GORDON SAYS THIS

And Holy Shit. He talks about how rose and everyone in the city has turned against him and then more chaos ensues, and both of them part ways with rose escaping and Gordon going somewhere else

And oh my god. Let me tell you. What I think their relationship was like with all this information at hand BECAUSE IT COULD BE SO NUANCED

BECAUSE IMAGINE IF THEIR LOVE WAS ALL ONE SIDED, HE WAS ABSOLUTELY TAKEN BY HER BUT SHE JUST DECIDED TO ROPE HIM ALONG IN THE RELATIONSHIP AND BECAUSE SHE KNEW HE WAS AN EMOTIONAL PERSON AT HEART, SHE COULD EASILY LURE HIM AWAY FROM HIS FAMILY SO THAT HE WOULDNT BE ABLE TO FULFIL HIS DUTIES AS THE HEIR TO THE FAMILY AND SHE COULD USE HIM FOR HIS WEALTH AT THE SAME TIME

SO ITS LIKE FULFILING HER HATRED FOR THE NOBLE (their family not being able to prosper properly) AND LIVING WELL OFF (living off the money) BUT THEN SHE DECIDED TO DISAPPEAR (yearning for power and greatness and thus joining the shadows) WHICH SHE THOUGHT WAS OK BECAUSE AGAIN, HE WAS A VERY EMOTIONAL PERSON AND THUS KNEW THAT HE WOULD MOPE OVER HER DISAPPEARANCE FOR A LONG TIME.

AND BRINGING THIS SCREENSHOT BACK, “Love’s schemes will pave the way to power” IT LIKE (GESTURING AROUND) SHE COULD HAVE BEEN BETTING ON HIM SPARING HER BECAUSE SHE THINKS HES STILL IN LOVE WITH HER, it could imply that their relationship was all just one big trick Ouhh.

BUT IT ESSENTIALLY DOMINO EFFECTED BECAUSE WHEN HE CAME BACK HE DECIDED TO FOCUS ON OTHER THINGS EG. CITY’S AFFAIRS AND GOING BACK IN TOUCH WITH HIS ROOTS TO THE FOUNDER BECAUSE HE FELT PATHETIC OVER MOPING OVER HER TOO LONG AND LEADING TO HIM AND HIS VILLAIN ARC SOMETHING SOMETHING HIS EMOTIONS GETTING THE BETTER OF HIM CAUSING ALL OF THESE THINGS TO HAPPEN AND GETTING OUTCASTDED BY EVERYONE BECAUSE OF HIS MORALS

AND LIKE.. THE FACT THAT HE DIDNT KNOW ABOUT HER CROSSBOW THING, GIVES THIS IMPLICATION THAT HE WAS GULLIBLE, TOO CAUGHT UP IN THE THRALLS OF LOVE THAT HE WAS IN DENIAL OF ALL THE THINGS THAT WERE BEING SAID ABOUT HER. I imagine he would come to her defense when bad things were being said about her and like I imagine she would on one hand like it because finally for once she has someone on her side but hate it because she’d felt like she was being patronised by him since it’s said she was someone who wanted to be heroic

And and like with the “I knew your hand would falter” line OK I AM. GOING ON A BIT OF A STRETCH BUT I IMAGINE HE SAID THAT FOR 2 REASONS FIRST AS A NEGATIVE JAB AT HER BECAUSE HE FOUND OUT ABOUT HER PRACTICING THE CROSSBOW AFTER HER DISAPPEARANCE AND BECAUSE HE FOUND IT FOREIGN, like in a “rose would never do this” sort of way, it diminished his opinion of her

and second. I like to think he said that with the sliver of hope that she loved him. Even though he said that she turned her back on him

I feel like he would grasp at a small bit of hope. EVEN THOUGH IN MY HEAD. THEIR RELATIONSHIP WS MORE ONE SIDDED IF ANYTHING

I feel like she would have shot him on the spot if it weren’t for informant causing her to miss it

[doctorstrangereview]

0074: Doctor Strange #178

Cover Date: March 1969 On-Sale Date: December 5, 1968

Thus we begin phase two of The Sons of Satannish arc. After casting the spell of fire and ice just before dropping dead, the stakes are higher than ever. I said Doc would need help to wrap this up. Here he'll recruit The Black Knight. For the final show, he'll have even more sidekicks.

After the title of the story takes an entire, multi-panel page, we delve into a multi-page recap of the previous story. Asmodeus/Benton sneaks into The Ancient One's pad disguised as Doc. The real Doc arrives disguised as new Doc. Both get into a slap fight. The Ancient One holds back. Asmodeus/Benton is about to attack with all he's got and drops dead. As he dies, he casts the spell of fire and ice to release Surtur and Ymir. Four pages later we get into the story proper.

I gotta say, while Colan doesn't give The Ancient One the hot, mature, bearded daddy vibe that Ms. Severin did, he looks might fine in that lovely green ensemble. We see Doc without his mask for the first time since the redesign. I'm not particularly enamored of the changes, but the slight reshaping of the collar is a positive.

While going over their options, we learn that Asmodeus banished his fellow cult members to Tiboro's Sixth Dimension. Not seen since just after Doc got his red cape.

Tiboro seems to have dyed his costume new colors. Perhaps editorial felt he didn't have enough green for this series. Anyway, the Sons may be the only way of reversing a spell invoked my someone empowered by Satannish. Guess he's got to go rescue the naughty boys. Trouble is, he needs a mystic on Earth to help him come and go. Despite numerous mystical allies having been revealed throughout the run of the series, he feels he's got only one person he can turn to. Yes, he must once again endanger the life of Ms. Victoria Bentley. Doc goes ghost and travels to England.

Even though Vicky's been through severe mental and physical trauma she still finds time to through a raging, sexy costume party. Conveniently, Dane Whitman, The Black Knight is attending the party and showing off his, um, sword! Having recently met at the Van Dyne/Pym wedding, Doc recognizes his, uh, sword.

Doc makes all the guests that aren't Vicky and the Knight disappear. He introduces himself and Vicky is horrified at the new look. Doc must be relieved that he's found a way to give Vicky the brush off and can full concentrate on his main side-piece, Clea. Doc explains to Dane the he needs him and his, uh, sword.

Doc tells Dane they need to get going and tells Vicky her party will soon be raging again. Vicky promises to keep in mental contact. Dane's winged horse appears out of nowhere and they're off. Gene gets to draw weird stuff again!

Tiboro is waiting to meet the pair along with the Sons of Satannish, whose cult robes have turned a boring grey. After calling himself invincible, Tiboro presses his attack on the magician and the knight. It's so awesome it takes two pages to depict it.

Tiboro conjures a mystic wall which the Knight shatters with his, uh, sword. Tiboro throws a mystic bolt at the pair that seems to miss and the Knight is like "that was lame" but monsters suddenly start growing out of the ground. At first they seem easy to strike down, but each hit causes two more to pop up.

Doc causes the air around the demons to crystalize. Tiboro himself re-enters the fray. He and Doc have a short dick measuring contest. Tiboro attacks Doc. Doc turns it aside with a psychic shield.

Tiboro prepares to keep repeating the attack until Doc weakens. The Black Knight reminds Tiboro Doc isn't alone and Tiboro refocuses his attack on the Knight. Tiboro blasts the ground under the Knight away and he starts his eternal fall. Doc manages to rescue him. Tiboro is about to strike Doc down while his back is turned. The Knight sees what's about to happen and throws his sword, destroying Tiboro's wand. Tiboro is mostly powerless without it and the pair claim victory. Doc doesn't banish Tiboro into nothingness. He just wants the cultists. "I can do that," responds Tiboro. Doc, The Black Knight and the Sons of Satannish leave the Sixth Dimension.

I think the story was a bit spartan which caused an extended recap of the previous issue. Very much like a show that's short a few minutes and we see way too much of the previous episode in the opening. Even using five pages for flashbacks and several more for Doc and The Black Knight to team up things drag more than any previous Roy Thomas story. It does establish Dane Whitman and Victoria Bentley as friends and neighbors which will play into a future storyline. Sadly, it's the last we see of Vicky for a long time. I liked Tiboro's return, but the colorist made him look bland with all the earth tones. He really needs the purple from his previous appearance to make that costume pop. The battle seems to take too long with not much happening. Roy seems to be relying on Gene to extend the meager story with lots of crazy panels. It's not quite as bad as a Dan Adkins stretch, but it takes its toll. The penultimate tale of The Sons of Satannish is a middling affair. Hopefully the conclusion picks things up.

[mapsofnonexistentplaces]

hi cubeguy i sent u an anons a while ago that i dont use tumblr but i periodically check ur blog bcus it specifically rocks & im back. i listened to an album u recommended on here but im curtailed by the character lim to give a review so i typed out a real time extremely long reaction to the songs LOL definitely the logical nextstep. its @ pastebin.com/Ejd8E9VX idk if im allowed to link shit on tumblr?? anyway i hope to get around 2 other musiks u like bcus i lovedd this btw its get to heaven that i listened to THANK U 🎀🙇‍♂️💋💗💗💗

HEY YOU HAVE AN AWESOME WAY OF TALKING ABOUT MUSIC. GRINS SO MUCH. i’m glad you enjoyed gth it’s so so special to me genuinely the album of all time …. my favorite songs off it are s/s/w/d the wheel and blast doors Lways a joy to see someone go crazy about them

^ really fond of this descriptor here also i think it succinctly puts a lot of what i love about ee’s songwriting down into words…. the weird entanglement of love and hate and confusion and clarity it’s a very very special moodset

also YEAH the way you described the vocals…. the early everything everything albums play a lot with like. roughness and scratchiness and the kind of ‘animalistic’ register of the human voice. (honestly everything before raw data feel. this is literally because the singer just decided to learn how to sing in high registers without falsetto for the first time which is like cool but also AUGH i miss that old sound

OK SO the thing about this bit

absolutely YES the thing about get to heaven is that it’s literally just like. a complete album of bangers. going down through their other stuff is gonna be a little more rocky, you might enjoy the like once-per-album weird slow ballads you might not, even though i’m lazy about listening to some of their weaker stuff when i do go through the entire albums i still find a lot of quirks in the instrumentation or lyrics that manage to impress me. i’d recommend delving into either man alive or arc next those are basically on par with gth although a bit more weird and morose? if you’re feeling it id then recommend raw data feel which oscillates more around pop/new wave but still has some really interesting musical constructions, gets extremely electronic and synthy…. a fever dream is like a 50/50 split between really long slow songs which are just Fine and really fast heavy bangers. just go listen to notln, can’t do, desire, good shot, run the numbers and ivory tower LOL. uhhhh reanimator is arguably their weakest album probably the most unremarkable but it’s also like my second favorite right after get to heaven. it’s weird and glowy and flimsier than their other tunes. that enchants me i guess…. they’ve also got an upcoming album that once again seems to be more pop oriented, cold reactor is the best of the singles they’ve released for it yet. what else. there’s like a youtube playlist out there of demo/outtakes/non album stuff that you can find real easy, there’s some really good stuff in there. personal favorites are the come alive diana demo, even the dogs and dna dump

ok so the fucking thing about the “lore” of this album. there technically isn’t any and most of ee’s albums are a per-song thing usually revolving around like. modern social commentary. the genius pages for most of their songs have like. direct songwriting annotations by the band and explain the thought process behind them. however for gth there’s also like a small layer of overarching lore about this one guy called thomas silhouette as a character. he’s not so much the crux of any narrative or presence as much as he’s just like. funny anagram arising from a lyric in fortune 500 that gets alluded to in later albums because he’s loosely representative of a lot of themes that get tackled in ee songs like capitalism and dread and shit like that

[seikilos-stele]

This is one of those questions that I want to ask a lot of authors, because I curious how many answers will be the same (if any)

The the basic premise is Do You Control Fic or Does it Control You?

What I mean by this is broken down into a few sub questions

Do you watch a show or read a book & fic ideas just pop into your head?

Are you watching/reading something and you are unsatisfied with the plot, but love the characters, therefore, set out to fix it?

Do you intend to write fic from the start, so you go in search of inspiration?

Have you ever completely lost interest in the canon, but still love the characters/fic (therefore, no longer revisit the original source of the fic?)

As is usual, this is just a guide. Answer any which way you would like - long answers are always welcome!

Wow, I think all of the above, multiple times!

The first type, where fic ideas just pop into my head — that’s the most difficult to write. I mean, it’s the most difficult to follow through 😆 sometimes I’ll write the ideas down, but once I’ve moved on to the next episode or book, I lose interest. So out of all these, statistically, this is the one you’d see the least.

#2 — setting out to fix it. Of course! I’ve probably written like, hundreds of post-Bilbringi fics and fics set in-between the Legends Thrawn trilogy, where I wished there was more character development with Thrawn and Pellaeon.

#3 — intending to write fic from the start, going in search of inspiration. This, probably more than anything else. When I first started writing on AO3, I made a kind of arbitrary goal to write a fic for everything I read or watched. Luckily when the stakes are that low you can basically just open a blank document and write whatever comes to mind, and it turns out okay — you’re like, “This ain’t my fandom, I’m just strolling through.” You don’t care if people even read it, so you don’t stress about prose or characterization 😆 it’s very nice!

I do this for fandoms I actually like too, because I usually want to write every day, but don’t always have a current idea. So I keep lists of interesting prompts and ideas, that way I never run out of material. Some of them get so stale that I never end up using them, but it’s still nice to have them there!

#4 — this happened with Once Upon a Time. I thought it was a bad show straight from Episode 1, but I loved Robert Carlyle’s character, so I watched it for him. All the way up until Season 3! At that point, Mr. Gold’s character arc was taking too many exhausting dips and turns, and the show wasn’t up to the task of explaining why. I stopped watching, but I kept up to date with the show’s shenanigans, read tons of fics, and wrote somewhere around 40 or 50 myself.

(It’s funny — I did write a few tiny fics BEFORE the show went bad; but it’s only the fics I wrote AFTER that I saved)

There are some great fix-its for that fandom btw 😆 I was also a huge fan of SwanQueen (main character Emma Swan x main villain Regina Mills) but in S3 they introduced a straight romance for Emma that I couldn’t STAND, so I read lots of fix-its for them too. My own fics weren’t really fix-its; they were AUs, almost always hurt/comfort. The show offered us plenty of material for that!

* * *

Maybe also worth mentioning:

1) when you’re reading a nonfiction book, but you’re thinking so hard about your favorite show that you end up with 7 plot bunnies all stemming from that single nonfiction piece that has nothing to do with Star Trek or Gargoyles or—

2) the private fanfics that you never bother to write down but replay in your head with minor tweaks each night before you go to bed. All of them are write-able! Many people would probably like to read them! But they seem somehow off-limits to me 😆 like, no, I’m only allowed to write fics based off stuff I think of in the shower, or at my desk — in bed??? That’s blasphemy

[the-whumpening]

The Backstory Arc, Part 3

Prev | Masterpost | Next

More context crumbs: A couple weeks after Part 2, the party is gearing up for their next mission. They've secured passage on a ship to head across the map to the far north, where they intend to search for Krumgus' missing parents. Ash and Uma have parted ways, and Evius has entrusted his parents with his son. (I hope Evius doesn't seem like a tool; he's just had to make a lot of tough decisions, and some of that nuance is lost once the story is written down.)

CW: violence (i'd call it mild), mind control magic, blood

As they board the ship, Evius removes his disguise ring, and something catches Ash’s eye. He stops Evius in his tracks, gingerly lifting his arm by the wrist to inspect the new black lines on his skin.

"Do you . . . do you have stripes now, Evvy?" A tiny flicker of panic pops in his brain. "Mine aren’t contagious, are they? I knew I should've covered my sneeze like Kane said . . . "

Evius tenses for a moment at the unexpected touch, chuckling as he relaxes once more. "It's nothing like that, darling. It's a magic tattoo I purchased when we first got into town. They're a bit rare, so it took some time to get made. It's supposed to help protect me from harm a little." He pulls the front of his shirt down just enough to reveal the image of an eye over his heart, from which erupted a web of black lines.

"So it's like . . . magic armor? How do you know if it works? Have you tried it out yet?" As he inspects the eye on Evius' chest, he’s split between curiosity about new, fancy magic and concern for Evvy's safety—and, perhaps, a twinge of yearning at Evius’ exposed skin.

Knitting his brows together, Evius crosses his arms in thought. "You know, that's a very good point, Ash.” He smirks, bumping Ash up the deck with his hip. “My, you're sure coming into those smarts. I hadn’t actually given that much thought yet. I'd hate to hop into a life or death situation without knowing it works. Maybe . . . ” His pointy grin grows into a conspiratorial gleam. “You could help me find out?"

A streak of feral energy ripples through Ash; it’s been so long since he’s had a chance to roughhouse with anyone. And, being in the city, he and Evius haven’t even had a play-hunt in months. "Does that mean we can spar?" His fangs glimmer with saliva at the thought of a good fight. However, he blinks away some of the crazy and composes himself. "There would have to be ground rules, of course. I don't want you getting hurt . . . or to have an unfair advantage." He pouts, knowing Evius' magic is immensely stronger than his own meager spells.

"Oh, don't worry—I'm rather limited here on the ship,” Evius assures him, though Ash remains doubtful. “I can't use anything seriously destructive. No Eldritch Blasts or Firebolts. Tell you what, I'll even hold off on Rays of Frost out of an abundance of caution. However, all my other spells are on the table, deal?" As he lays out his offer, he coils his tail around Ash and winks.

Ash thinks for a second, ignoring the goosebumps rising up his spine. "No flying, either,” he sulks. “It's not fair if you're not on the ground. Same rules as always?”

Evius kicks off his shoes and drops his bag before taking off towards the rear of the ship, tearing his shirt over his head and yelling back towards the half-tiger, "You're on, big man!"

Ash carefully unclasps his cloak and sets it down with the rest of his stuff before rushing after Evius. But, seeing Evius’ slender frame chase away from him, his gut twists anxiously. Is this a bad idea?

At the back of the ship, the two clear some space among barrels and crates of supplies. An awkward energy hangs in the air. Ash doesn't want to be the one to strike first—how could he? This is Evius, after all. As much as he's dying to fight, he and Evius have never had a genuine sparring match like this; he’s always held back. He knows Evius is strong and capable, but . . . he can’t imagine hurting someone he cares about like that.

"It's a lot like dancing, isn't it?" Evius offers with a wry smile upon seeing Ash’s hesitance. He produces a dagger from his hip, juggles it with a flourish, and throws it at Ash.

The knife zips through the air and slices Ash's shoulder before sticking into a crate behind him.

"I'm always the one to lead."

"Shit!" Ash double-takes between the blood dribbling from the slice in his arm and Evius' smirk. "Okay, I guess it's my turn then," he chuckles, a small flush of embarrassment coloring his face.

He rushes toward Evius, aiming to just get one not-too-painful hit in. His fist whiffs past Evius on his first attempt, confused as Evius nimbly swerves out of the way. But as they circle, he tries again—success!

His shoulder collides with Evius' torso, briefly lifting him off the ground. The tiefling slithers out of his grip though, leaving the two still facing off, equally matched.

"You're quicker than I remember," Ash huffs, a little out of breath.

Evius coughs, winded a little from the collision, but otherwise fine. "That all you got, kitty cat? I've taken worse hits from Nalia. Or is it that you can't bring yourself to hurt me?" He taunts, lacing his words with Vicious Mockery.

He lunges forward to slice at Ash with his second dagger, but he is thrown off by Ash's befuddled expression and loses his balance—missing his target and falling prone.

Ash offers a hand to him, pulling him easily to his feet.

"Of course I don't want to hurt you, dummy!" He takes a step back, his brow crinkling in confusion from the spell. He can feel the surge of his rage just starting to bubble up, but he tamps it down for now. Gotta stay cool. Can't get too out of control.

Planting his feet, he gestures for Evius to try again to hit him. It's only fair to let him try again.

"Come on. I can do this all day!"

After dusting himself off and recovering from his embarrassment, Evius chuckles and flicks him on the nose. "You're awfully cute when you're being chivalrous, but don't forget the point of this exercise."

He backflips away from Ash and, as he lands in a nimble crouch, his eyes flash with indigo light. "Come at me with all you've got."

The suggestion crawls through Ash's mind, latching on firmly. Initially, he's a bit confused: With all I've got? What does that mean? But, almost against his will, his muscles flex and bulge, readying for an attack.

"All I've got, Evvy?"

Ash charges, swiping Evius in the ribs with the staff of his spear. He snarls in Evius' face, leaning in nose-to-nose. He's quickly losing his composure, and he can feel the rage almost surfacing.

Evius stumbles back and grunts with the impact of the spear. Through the haze of his foggy mind, Ash can see the panic beginning to rise in Evius. Still, he can’t press the energy down any further—sooner rather than later, it’s going to spill over.

Shouting another spell in Infernal, Evius spins away from Ash, and a silvery mist surrounds him. When the mist dissipates, he is no longer in front of Ash, but up in the rigging, leaning against the wooden mast with his arms folded.

"Hey!” Ash snarls. “I said no flying!" A trail of lightning wraps around Evius' waist, yanking him down to the deck, coming to a stop arms’ length from Ash.

At that, the kettle boils over, and Ash begins to rage. It's not a purely anger-driven rage, but an explosion of emotions he's been stuffing away for who knows how long—anger, fear, frustration, desperation—

"You want all I've got? I'll show you all I've got!" he roars.

Pulled from his perch, Evius is startled but quickly regains his composure. He lands cat-like on the deck and responds, "That wasn't flying, my sweet boy. That was teleporting. Technically within the rules, but I should think you are beyond semantics at the moment."

With a roar, Ash snatches Evius off the ground, a firm grip holding his legs while his chest dangles on Ash's back. Spying a nearby crate, Ash reels back and slams Evius onto it.

Looming over him, the sound of his own pulse thumps in Ash’s ears, but the smell of blood and sweat scintillates his feral brain.

Using Ash’s momentum against him, Evius kicks out and shoves Ash away. He leaps to his feet, crouching with his dagger brandished before him.

Ash deftly recovers, tumbling backwards and landing in a similar prowling lunge.

He pounces forward, his hulking frame smashing into Evius. With one hand, he slams the hand holding the dagger into the deck, forcing him to drop the knife. With the other, he engulfs Evius' throat.

Completely out of control now, he squeezes the sides of his throat, his claws starting to dig in. Whatever reservations he once had about hurting Evius, he can’t remember them now.

Evius grips Ash's wrist with his free hand and croaks out through gritted teeth, "That's really all you've got?"

A growl ripples through Ash's body and slithers out of his gnashed teeth. He presses harder, his claws now firmly sinking into the tender copper skin of Evius' neck.

"You haven't seen anything yet," he hisses.

Beneath him, Evius’ lips grow pale. His sputtering breaths come more and more frantically, until Ash can barely hear them at all. His eyelids flutter over his now-dulling golden eyes, his wispy white lashes beading with panicked tears.

His hand drops. With his little remaining breath, he weakly calls out, “Ash . . . “

As the spell loosens its grip on Ash's mind, the fog of rage also lifts. He can think clearly again, and that allows him to clearly process what's in front of him. His hand, fiercely crushing Evius' throat, and Evius with a glassy-eyed plea beneath him.

As if touching an electric current, Ash jolts backwards, snatching his hands away from Evius' neck. He sits back on the deck, his face contorted in horror. Hot tears stream unrelentingly down his face, and he covers his mouth in anguish.

"Did I—?" he squeaks through his fingers. "H-how . . . Evvy . . . I'm so sorry!"

Gasping and coughing as he sucks in air, Evius shakes his head and sputters out, "No, no—Ash . . . It’s not, not your fault." He hefts himself to his knees and catches his breath.

Once his body has settled again, he scoots closer to Ash, reaching out to hold his panicked face. "You didn't do anything wrong. I'm perfectly fine, I promise,” he soothes. “I'm alright, you're alright. Everything is okay. It was my spell that pushed you so far. I think we can safely say the tattoo works, though.”

The driving pull Ash had been feeling the whole fight finally started to make sense. But even so, to know he’s capable of something so terrifying—it rattled Ash. He could see the bruises he left and the drips of blood along Evius’ throat. It nauseated him.

“You used a spell on me? And it . . . it made me do that?” He gestures to the claw marks and bruises, afraid to actually touch them with his fingers. He looks up to Evius with pleading eyes. “Why? I . . . I could’ve—“ he clamps his hand back over his mouth, too horrified to finish that thought.

"There was never any real danger,” Evius assures him. “If I lost consciousness or if you took any damage, the spell would end. You couldn't have killed me, no matter how far it went." Evius chuckles breathily, continuing, "Besides, I wanted to give you a chance to stretch your legs a bit. You've not been able to let loose in. . . well . . . a while. And I did want to know if the barrier tattoo was effective."

“So you commanded me to try to murder you?” The horror begins to subside knowing that the stakes weren’t quite so high, but the hurt remains. “Evvy . . . what the hell were you thinking?! Even if you just passed out, that’s still . . . Ugh!” He groans in frustration, unable to even articulate how baffled he is. Evius has made stupid, impulsive decisions before, but this is a new level.

He takes a couple deep breaths to steady himself, but as he does so, he notices Evius’ expression begin to glaze over. It’s clear to him that Evius is beginning to check out mentally, running away from his feelings as he usually does. But then . . . he’s gotta be scared too, right? Ash realizes. And in pain . . .

Shaking off his residual anger, Ash gets to his feet, gently pulling Evius up with him. “C’mon, you’re hurt. You need to rest.”

Wordlessly, Evius cloaks himself in a veil of invisibility, shaking off Ash's hand in the process.

Ash frowns. “ . . . I know you’re there, Evvy. Just let me help you.” He searches for the faint blue outline he was taught to identify, quickly spotting the slender blur a few paces away. “Please.”

Without waiting for a response, he scoops up the outline of Evius, feeling the invisible weight falling into his arms. He hears a faint “ow” from his chest, and his heart aches with guilt.

"What happens now?" Evius murmurs, as if only to himself.

Ash laughs in spite of his frustration, surprised that Evius said anything at all.

“Well, I’m gonna take you to your room, and make sure you rest and heal.” He ponders for a second, then continues, “I think it's also time we talked about a few things . . . ”

Where there had appeared to be nothing in Ash's arms, there was now a disheveled and bruised Evius. He lets his head relax into Ash's chest, Ash's pounding heartbeat thudding in his ear. His cheeks dimple into a resigned smile.

"Yeah, I think so too."

[storiesofsvu]

Journey to the Past Ch 22

Bryan Kneef x reader Sorry this one took so damn long to get out. I kept getting stuck with it and working out the logistics of everything for this chapter. plus like... life... am i right? ANYWAYS, here ya go. enjoy this chapter. we enter the final plot arc now.

“Bryan!” Your shriek turned into a giggle as the man wrapped around your waist from behind, pulling you flush to him, his lips burying into your neck as they made home against your skin.

“What?” He chuckled, teeth scraping into you and you let out a soft moan, followed by a laugh as your hand tugged into his hair, pulling him off you.

“I have to go!”

“Oh come on.” He nearly whined, “it’s just a girl’s night.”

“And we spent half the morning fucking.” You laughed, turning in his arms to press a gentle kiss to his lips. “I’ve barely seen Kim this month. Besides…” you kissed him once more, “it’ll give me a chance to go through my apartment, see what I’m moving in versus what I’ll give away.”

“Fine.” He grinned, cupping your chin in his hand with a wicked grin, “I’ll accept that.”

“Thought you might.” With a grin you popped up on your toes to kiss him again before squeezing at his arm, “I love you.”

“I love you too.” He left a kiss on the tip of your nose that you let out a giggle at before you were finally able to turn from the apartment and disappear down the hallway to embark on your evening plans.

*

You managed to get to your place with enough time to spare, ordering some take out that would get there shortly after Kim would and cracking a bottle of wine that you poured a glass out of to drink in the meantime. You meandered into the bedroom, starting to make sure all of your personal belongings were removed, sorting through the clothes you’d left to either take home or be donated. It wasn’t long after that that you heard the knock on the door, followed by Kim’s voice and you called out to let her know you were in the bedroom.

“What’s…. going on?” She asked with a raised brow as she perched in your bedroom doorway, eyeing the piles of clothes and belongings strewn across the bed.

“Figured I should take some time to clean my shit out and you could probably help with that.” You gestured to the bottle of wine and empty glass, “grab some wine.”

“Oh fuck, I haven’t eaten since breakfast, I should probably wait for dinner first.”

“Raid the fridge?”  You suggested, “grab a non booze drink or some snacks?”

“You’re an angel.” She shot you a grin before darting off down the hallway, returning with a sparkling water and a power bar, settling at the foot of your bed, “So… you just get the urge to clean out or?”

“Well…” You grinned at her, pausing for a sip of wine, “I’m trying to downsize a bit, not really with the clothes but more with the other shit. And to figure out what I own that are super personal versus stuff I’d be okay with strangers being around on a regular basis.”

“What are you talking about?” She laughed and you felt a brief heat sink into your cheeks.

“I’m moving into Bry’s place.”

“Are you serious!?”

“Oh don’t sound so shocked!” You laughed.

“I just didn’t ever see you selling this place!”

“I’m not, at least not yet.” You laughed, tossing another pair of pants into a suitcase, “I still kinda want my own space, I figured I’ll list it on Airbnb, that way I can control who and when stay here and when I’ll be able to have time on my own, or if we wanna have a super drunk weekend or something.”

“I mean… that’s probably the smartest choice, you can make bank with that shit.”

“Exactly.”

“He really asked you to move in?” Kim took a sip of her drink, casting you a knowing look and you rolled your eyes.

“Are you judging?” You suddenly stalled, “oh god. Do you think it’s a bad idea?”

“No!” She shot back, “I think it’s a fucking great idea. Have you guys talked about any more of a future yet or is that like, on the back burner?”

“A bit of both.” You laughed, your head shooting down the hall as a loud knock echoed through your apartment, “I guess the rest of this will have to wait.” You tossed down a pair of pants, “movie and dinner?”

“Always.” Kim shot you a grin, following you down the hall and picking up what you’d need from the kitchen for dinner before making herself at home on the couch and picking out a movie while you paid for the take out.

You brought the bag to the coffee table and started to scoop things out onto plates, the two of you splitting things up as evenly as you could before settling into the movie Kim had picked. Conversation flowed easily between the two of you, commentary on the movie while you complimented the food, digging into takeout containers for more. You fell into the usual routine, laughter taking over when you weren’t paying full attention to the movie. It was a few hours later, the movie over, you were on your second glass of wine, about to offer Kim one when you noticed.

“You still nursing that Perrier?”

“It’s been a weird week.” She laughed, practically avoiding your gaze and you smacked at her leg.

“What is going on?” You asked and she took a heavy breath, letting it out slowly.

“Something that I really don’t want to do but I need your help with.”

“Okay?” You raised a brow in her direction and she huffed, her shoulders sagging before looking up at you in defeat, “do we need to immediately rephase into attorney client privilege or is it something else?”

“I think I’m late…”

“Like your period?”

“Yeah.” She huffed, “I forgot to track last month’s so I’m not sure when this one’s supposed to come and I’ve lost track of time and have no clue anymore. Plus the guy I’m seeing… it’s just super casual, he doesn’t want anything past a casual relationship and I’m fine with that, but this would throw a loop into things…”

“Okay, well you don’t have to really worry about things yet.” You assured her, squeezing at her hand, “either give it another week and wait for your period, or we can run down to the store and get a test for you to take now.”

“I’ve already got one…” She admitted, glancing up to you with a sheepish look on her face, “I think I’m just way too up in my head and freaked out to want to do it.”

“You could wait the week?”

“And send my stress levels through the roof?” She laughed, “I don’t think that’s ideal.”

“Okay, then…You know where the bathroom is.”

“Yeah, but they only sell these things in multiple packs and I’m trying not to freak out, don’t make me be the only one, please….so what do you say?”

“That you’re being ridiculous, but you’re lucky I have two bathrooms.”

“Oh thank fucking god.” Kim let out a heavy breath, “I just like, didn’t know what to do and then this tik tok trend popped up where groups of friends all take—”

“Babe… do you seriously think I have enough time to engage in tik tok?”

“You’re right.” She barked out a laugh, moving from the couch to dig through her purse. She pulled out the box, ripping it open and handing you a wrapped test.

“Take the hallway bathroom, we’ll set a timer, I’m sure it’s fine.” You gave her arm a squeeze and shot her a reassuring smile before you made your way into the bedroom and crossed through to the en suite.

This certainly wasn’t the first time a friend had come to you freaking out about something like this, or even asking you about your own experience. So with someone like Kim, you weren’t about to tell her no, she was your best friend and you finally knew why she had been acting so weird all week. You didn’t take long, popping the top off the test and quickly doing what you needed to do before putting the cap back on and wandering back out to the main part of the apartment to be the emotional support you knew would be needed. Wondering if Kim would finally be wanting wine or if it would be a night of non alcoholic fun. You placed your test down on the island, letting out a soft sigh as you refilled your wine glass, picking up your phone to kill the time. You smiled at a couple of texts from Bryan, shooting off a couple of replies to him, a few about how you couldn’t wait to come home to him daily, and it didn’t take long after that for things to get dirty.

“Sorry.” Kim’s voice nearly made you jump, her own test sliding onto the counter across the sink from yours, “I may or may not have freaked out again.”

“You’ve got nothing to worry about.” You assured her, squeezing at her arm, “besides, this is just step one, you never know what’s going to happen after this and there are always a million ways things can go.”

“I guess.” She let out a huff, taking a swig of her soda right before the alarm on your phone went off and she nearly jumped, looking to you, “fuck, do I really have to?”

“Just flip it over.” You let out a chuckle.

“Fine.”  Kim shot you a glare before doing so, her eyes settling on the small stick before she let out a heavy sigh of relief, “oh thank fucking god!”

“See! You’re fine!” You swatted at her arm, handing her a glass of wine and she laughed, glancing toward your unturned test.

“Are you gonna look?”

“I don’t see why.” You laughed, but you turned back to it, flipping it over and it suddenly felt like your entire world stilled at the sight of a little pink plus sign staring back at you. You felt absolutely frozen, pure shock taking over your entire system as your eyes widened briefly before you finally felt like you could breathe again. You blinked a couple of times, making sure you weren’t seeing something before you finally spoke, Kim’s relief not even realizing your awkwardness. “Are you sure yours was on that side of the sink?”

“What?” She glanced up over the rim of her wine glass, her eyes widening over the panic written across your face.

“Did you put your test down on that side of the sink or did you move around afterwards?”

“I… I don’t think so. I came in, put it down and waited.. I think?” She winced, “why?” You let out a heavy breath, running a hand over your face.

“Because this one’s positive.” You flipped the test over to face her and she let out a small gasp.

“Oh fuck.”

“Where did you get these?”

“CVS.”

“So like, not the dollar store?”

“No.” She laughed, “but I’ve heard they’re all the same accuracy…”

“This has to be a false positive.” You murmured, “fuck, oh fuck… you said these came in packs, right?”

“Yeah…” Kim replied cautiously, placing her wine glass down on the island, “you think we should do a round two?”

“Well considering this says that one of us is pregnant, yeah, I do.”

“I’m like ninety eight percent sure that I put mine down on this side.” She gestured to the island, “like you said, it’s probably a false positive, I mean, when was your last period?”

“I don’t keep track.” You admitted with a huff.

“Are you serious?”

“Kim! I’ve got shitty ovaries, or a uterus or whatever, my periods have been all over the place for like, ten years. I miss them regularly; it’s never been a concern.”

“Are you and Bryan using condoms?”

“No.” You groaned, “why would we?! Once we said we were exclusive it went out the window.” You let out a weary sigh, “what the fuck?”

“Hey, hey…” Kim grabbed at your arm, “you’re lucky these things come in packs…” she rustled through her bag for a minute, pulling out the box once again, “round two.”

“Christ…” You muttered, taking one of the tests from her before you both retreated back to the bathrooms you’d been in prior.

This time when you returned to the kitchen, the air was much more tense, only a few words exchanged between the two of you as you waited for the timer to go off. When it did you both let out a low breath, flipping over the very separated tests to make sure you knew whose was whose.

“Oh my god…” You whispered, a hand coming up to your mouth as the bright plus sign stared back at you, “this… I think this is actually real…” Kim’s hand came up to yours, gently taking the test from you as she flipped it to look at it.

“Oh shit….” She muttered, “you’re pregnant…”

“Yeah…” You glanced up at her, “I really didn’t think it was ever possible…. I mean they told me it wasn’t…”

“Maybe it’s a fluke… like you said.” She squeezed at you hand, “call your doctor, let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”

“Oh I know.” You huffed out a breath, a million thoughts swirling around in your brain, going a mile a minute, “it just seems so fucking surreal.”

“Does Bryan want kids?” She asked and you were suddenly sent crashing back to reality, remembering it wasn’t just your future you were thinking of.

“Oh god… I… I don’t even know. We very briefly talked about it, he seemed wary…. But maybe?”

“Okay, forget I asked.” She grabbed your arm, tugging you away from the tests and back toward the couch, “we’re gonna forget all of this, you’re going to make a doctor’s appointment and we’re going to finish this take out and watch the rest of this movie, okay?”

“Okay…” you let out a soft sigh, dropping down onto the couch beside her, letting yourself get distracted with the media in front of you rather than dwell on your thoughts and worries.

*

Bryan was in the kitchen, packing up his own dinner into Tupperware and doing a couple of dishes, rinsing out the bowl while he tried to decide if he was having another glass of wine or was going to swap to scotch. The noise from the front door pulled his attention, glancing up, his brow furrowing as you appeared around the corner, dropping a duffle bag onto the floor with a little sigh.

“I didn’t expect you home tonight.” He greeted with a warm smile, crossing through the space to kiss you softly.

“Guess I just missed you.” You replied with a soft smile, pecking him gently before moving through the room slowly.

“Wine?” He asked, crossing back to the island and lifting the bottle in your direction, causing you to stall, shaking your head.

“No, thank you.” You gave him your best smile, “I’m not feeling great.”

Bryan’s head shot up to look at you, watching the way you dropped against the arm of the couch, letting out a gentle sigh and he crossed the room to you a hand gently cupping at your cheek, “you okay sweetheart?”

“Yeah.” You smiled, leaning into the embrace, “just tired.”

“Alright.” He leant in, kissing you tenderly and you hummed against his lips, tugging him back for a second.

“Can…. can I ask you something?”

“Of course.” His thumb stroked across your cheek; his eyes soft as he gazed across at you.

“You want a future here, right?” You glanced up to him, your heart beating a million miles a minute as you did your best not to hold your breath.

“Are you fucking with me?” Bryan laughed, “of course I do. You’re all I ever wanted….”

“Okay.” You let out a shaky breath, smiling at the way he squeezed at your hand, “I just… fuck, Bry,” you let out a small laugh, sinking further into the arm of the couch as Bryan moved forward, his hand continuing to stroke at your cheek. “I don’t want to freak you out or anything, and I know it’s fast and kinda weird, we haven’t technically been together that long..”

“But time doesn’t really mean anything?” He murmured with a raised brow and you laughed softly.

“No, no it doesn’t.” You let out a breath, the wheels in your head spinning as you tried to put your words together. Considering how he’d reacted to a minor inconvenience before you were serious when you said you didn’t want to freak him out, and something like this might send him running for the hills. Kim was right, you should wait until after going to the doctor to bother bringing it up, there was still a decent chance it was false, you sighed, glancing back up at Bryan and you could feel the adoration pouring from his eyes onto you, “I guess what I’m trying to say is that I love you, and I love you more than anyone ever. I don’t need you to say the same back right now but there is no one else in the world I would rather spend the rest of my life with.”

Bryan let out a soft chuckle, nuzzling against you softly, “if you want me to buy you a ring, I will.” His lips hit yours softly, “because you are, without a doubt, the absolute love of my life, and I would give everything to spend my life with you.”

“I don’t need a ring.” You laughed softly, your hand coming up to catch his cheek, redirecting his next kiss to your lips, “but how about some cuddles? I honestly am fucking exhausted.”

“Whatever my girl wants, she gets.” Bryan smiled, kissing you gently before helping you up and guiding you down the hallway.

You couldn’t help but smile at the way he helped you out of your clothes, shifting you into comfortable pyjamas, making sure you were okay, a bottle of water by your bedside before he changed himself. He then wrapped you in his arms, pressing a soft kiss to your head, his hands ghosting over your body until they settled in a very affectionate manner. You weren’t totally sure, but you thought that you might have fully broken into Bryan Kneef’s soft side, one that wasn’t going to be reserved for just you anymore.

As you finally drifted off to sleep your thoughts shifted from whether Bryan would be as receptive to this news as you were or if he would go against his word and disappear out of your lives to ones of a long happy future with him. He had you tucked so tightly in his arms, nuzzling you deeper into the embrace with each breath, lips gently brushing against the top of your head, you felt safe, protected and most importantly, loved. And exactly where you needed to be.

__________________

@detective-giggles @plaidbooks @thatesqcrush @witches-unruly-heartt @beccabarba @bisexual-dreamer02 @amelia-song-pond @madamsnape921 @whimsicallymad @mrsrafaelbarba @mysticfalls01 @ssaic-jareau @caracalwithchips @barbasbodaciousbeard @alwaysachorusgirl @beardedbarba @michael-rooker @rafivadafreddy @lustvolle-liebe @anlin2058 @fandom-princess-forevermore @tinyboxxtink @alexusonfire @xovalliegirlxo @nobody-important12122 @somethingimaginative177 @momlifebehard @misscharlielulu @fighterkimburgess

[recurring-polynya]

Do I mind if I ask how you approach writing longer fic? I've always struggled to write anything more than maybe two chapters long and I'm curious if you have a particular method to how you approach such stories.

Thank you so much for this ask! I absolutely love it when people ask me for writing advice because it makes me feel like a Smart Person Who Knows Things.

Before we start, here is one grain of salt to take all of this with: I have a naturally long-form brain. It is very hard for me to write something less than 1k. Short fiction is great, and there is nothing wrong with sticking to short things if that's what your brain likes to do.

So. You have decided to write a story. This is going to focus on "stories". Some people write fic that's more freeform or whatever, I am not going to cover that. What I mean by a story is this:

It starts

Some stuff happens

It ends

It is highly probable that your story contains a change of state, which could be that a villain is defeated, or a goal is reached, but it could also be that character falls in love with another, or someone learns to like broccoli.

I like to start out by completing the sentence, "This is a story where _______". This is basically like coming up with a summary for an ao3 post, except that it doesn't need to be catchy. Lots of different kinds of things could go in that blank! It could literally be what happens: This is a story where Ichigo goes back in time and punches young Aizen in the nose. It could be about what you want to explore: This is a story where Hitsugaya gets a better understanding of his zanpakutou. It could be about the vibe you want to achieve: This is an AU where everyone is in a punk rock band and has cool hair and outfits. The idea of this is to clearly define what you, the author, is interested in writing. Make sure it feels right! Maybe you pick the first one, but when you say it out loud, you say, "You know, I really just want Ichigo to go back in time so he can horse around with young Renji and Rukia and punching Aizen in the nose is just an excuse for that." That may sound dumb, but it's fine, actually! Most people don't read stories strictly for the plot, they read stories for the implications of those plots! Will my favorite two characters kiss? Will there be funny interactions between these two groups of characters? Will there be sick fights? Stories are excuses to have scenes. Sometimes, you will have a story where the interesting sequence of events is the draw, but the point is to know what you're about.

Once you feel happy with your "mission statement", you need to decide the bounds of your story: where it starts and where it ends. It may be easier to start with the end. In some cases, it may be obvious from your mission statement: everyone gets home, a villain is defeated, Kenpachi realizes the meaning of friendship. On the other hand, let's look at that punk rock AU. You've picked a vibe, but you don't really have a natural story arc. It has to have a destination, though, otherwise, it's not really a story, it's a recipe for 3 chapters of an abandoned fanfic. So brainstorm a little: Maybe they get a record deal? Maybe they win a Battle of the Bands? Maybe Byakuya accepts that the band is actually good and tells Rukia he is proud of her. Do not settle for a plot just because it works. Pick something that makes you excited! You're the one who is gonna have to write it!

I said that we needed to pick a beginning point, too, but I'm actually going to skip that for now. The next thing I do is think of all the Big Scenes I want to write, the ones you are hype to write, the ones that pop in your head as you think about the premise. Make a bullet list. They don't need to be in order. The descriptions don't need to be super detailed, but write down anything about it that is important to you. If there's a mood or a snippet of dialogue or a joke you want to make, go ahead and jot that down so you don't forget it later. What you're doing now is putting broad blotches of color on a canvas, filling in space and leaving the detail for later.

Once you are pretty happy with what you have down, try to arrange it in chronological order. Put your end at the end (if it wasn't one of your big scenes, add it now). The next task is figuring out how to traverse your scenes. You've already picked out where you want to spend the majority of your energy. The rest, I regret to tell you, is your slog writing. Now, it often happens that you will find joy in some of these scenes and your best writing may occur there, but that's serendipity. These are the scenes that you are gonna have to make yourself sit down and write, so you honestly want to limit them to just the ones you need.

So how do we do this? Look at the first thing on the list. Can you start there? If so, congrats, that's your beginning. If you can't, what needs to happen to get to there? Where can you start so that you can get to your first fun scene as soon as possible? There. That’s it. You’ve picked your beginning, good job! Now, go through the rest of your list, and add in things that must happen, even if you don’t particularly look forward to writing them. The characters need to travel from geographic point A to point B. Shuuhei needs to say something that Izuru hears and misinterprets. The Central 46 makes a new law. If you have a good idea of how these things happen, go ahead and write them down, but it’s okay if you don’t know yet. Fill in all the blanks so that if you think of each bullet list as a scene, you could read it as a story, start to end. Once you get writing, you might add more scenes, or move things around or whatever, but you should have a thing that functions as a story.

If you struggle with this, an alternative is a story with a very strong structure that is going to guide you though what you have to write.Here are two examples from my own stories Hold On, Hold On (which is only one chapter, but the principle is the same) is structured around the 5 stages of grief. Not Broken, Just Bent takes place over roughly a week, and I just decided what happened every day of the week. See You on the Other Side takes place in the middle of a bunch of canon events, which worked at mile markers.

Congratulations. You’ve just made a rough outline!

Special note for avoiding burnout!: I am a slogger. I will drag myself through the broken glass of an interminable plot to get to a single thirsty scene. That's why, at this stage, I try to look at the ratio of what I want to write to what I must write. It's gonna vary for everyone, but this is a hobby, and if looking at this proto-outline makes you feel deeply tired, maybe this isn't a good story to be devoting your time to! Can you carve it down? Can you chuck two scenes you really want to write and get rid of 80% of the slog? Or maybe you can't! In that case, just write that thirsty scene as a standalone drabble! Or just go work on something else! Maybe in the future, this one will come back to you and you’ll have a fresh idea or a renewed enthusiasm for it.

Another thing I sometimes like to do at this point is to write out some notes about my characters and their motivations and moods. Character A is homesick. Character B is so determined to defeat the enemy that they are having a hard time being sympathetic to Character A. Character C cares for both A and B and is trying to support them both. This is sort of background info that you want to keep in your head as you are writing. Depending on the type of story you are writing, this might actually be the main plot, or it might be happening subtly, but adding to the emotional impact of the story. It’s very easy for me to write these sorts of emotional arcs, but if you struggle with that, you may wish to go ahead and made a more detailed outline for that, too.

Now, it’s time to start writing! I am great at beginnings-- it is very often the case for me that the opening scene was one of my Big Tentpole Scenes. (Before you hate me too much, I make up for this by being double horrible at endings; just let me have this) Usually, I will start at the beginning and write linearly for as long as I can until I get stuck. Then, I will look forward on my outline and do the next chronological scene that I feel like writing. In general, if I sit down to write and there is something I have an urge to write, that trumps everything else. Inspiration is a precious commodity, and you should embrace it when it hits! You can slog any day. I will occasionally hold off writing a scene that I really want to, because I am saving it, like a prize for myself for getting that far. This is a very personal process of figuring out what motivates your brain and then giving your brain what it needs to be its most productive.

Eventually, you will run out of things you are excited to write, but the good news is, you’ve got a bunch of story now! Odds are that what’s left is going to be a lot of those connective tissue scenes, and you’re just going to have to do them, except that now, because you’re connecting two concrete points instead of two abstract points, it will be a lot easier. You can continue running jokes you’ve started. Maybe you invented a cafe in an earlier scene where your characters hang out and you can have them return there. Try to think of ways to make these scenes more fun, both for yourself to write and for your reader to read. 

Around this time, I like to start refining that rough strokes outline into what I will call an “as-built” outline. (This is an engineering term where you update your plans or models for something to reflect any changes that had to be made along the way). This is a great activity to do at times when you feel like you have writers block. I write down every scene I have written as a 2-3 word blurb, in order. I break the scenes into what I think makes logical chapters, and I will do a word count on those prospective chapters and write it down. As you do this, you will realize that maybe you can move a scene from here to there, which will make it 1000% easier to write. Things may be happening too much, or you’ve got the characters eating three times in the same chapter. If you have subplots and dangling threads, this is where you make sure they get closure. I know this sounds very headache-y, but you are so far along in the story at this point that it’s really not-- it’s a way to look at the problems you have left. Use some sort of formatting (I like to bold things I haven’t done and sometimes I put them in red) and it gives you a very visual to-do list.

You specifically mentioned multi-chapter fanfics and I admit that I don’t tend to think in chapters, I tend to think of the story as a whole and just break it up where it feels natural. The as-built outlining I described is very helpful in making sure that my chapters feel balanced. They don’t necessarily need to be the same length, but I like them to have the same amount of stuff in them. One chapter may basically contain one long scene, and other may contain many short ones. I don’t tend to, but you can certainly have a fanfic that varies between short and long chapters, that can actually be an interesting effect. But like I said, I always like to know what I am doing, and so having it mapped out, you can say “welp, this is what I’ve done, how do I feel about that?”

Polynya, you may be saying at this point, do you write the whole fanfic before you post any of it? and I regret to inform you, the answer is yes. A lot of people write as they go, and I have made one attempt at this and I didn’t like it. I don’t like locking myself in, I just need to be able write out of order and go back and change things. Here is the story of a little in love: someone gave me an AU prompt and I got mildly obsessed with it, and wrote 5 snapshots drabbles in that universe, ending with a slight cliffhanger ending. I probably should have stopped there, but I decided to keep going. I wrote out an outline of 5 acts where the first act was detailed to the degree of each chapter being specified. The chapters here were much smaller than I usually make chapters: 1-2k. I wrote act i and ii and it was actually great, and then I hit act iii which required a lot of set up for misunderstandings and a mini romance arc. I couldn’t wing it, but nor could I figure it all out with outlining. I write dialogue in almost sort of an improv “Yes, and...?” style, so until I do it, I don’t know what’s going to happen. So, what I did was treat the second half of act iii as a complete story in the process I describe above, wrote the entire rest of it, and then posted it. One might notice that the chapter lengths grew to 3-5k each. I have two more acts to go, and I haven’t decided how I am going to do them yet, but I suspect I will treat each of them as their own mini-stories.

(I will admit that in Heart is a Muscle, I tend toward chapters that are about 10k long, and this is honestly too long, someone should smack me. If you like punchy chapters, 1-2k is good. I think 3-6k is probably an ideal chapter length. Is this how long the chapters are in my latest fanfic? Absolutely not.)

Okay, so there’s one more step, which is quality control. I am habitual re-reader-- I read my fanfics-in-progress over and over and over while I am working on them. I understand that not everyone does this, but I am usually the primary audience for my own writing, and this is the actual fun part for me. Nevertheless, you should re-read your work at least once, to make sure it hangs together.

This is purely optional, but I recommend it: get a writing friend (if you don’t like re-reading your work, I recommend this even more strongly). If you can get a full-service beta reader, that’s great, but if you can’t find someone, or if receiving that level of critique stresses you out, it’s perfectly valid to just find a friend who will read your stuff and a) shower you with compliments, b) reassure you about parts you aren’t sure about (or suggest ways to help) and c) point out any huge problems you missed. When I am writing a long fanfic, it is a huge motivational factor for me to be able to send my beta chapters as I finish them. If you are already an established writer, and you have people who consistently comment on your fic, they might be overjoyed to get a sneak peak at your work.

And that’s it! That’s the way I do it, anyway! Some people are able to sit down and write a very detailed outline and the write it start-to-finish. Good for them, I say! I have tried this and it doesn’t work great for me. I will admit that some of my fics (especially my early ones) I just sat down and banged out whole-cloth like an insane person and they are generally better than the ones I actually plan out, but that’s not a reproducible process.

As one final mechanical note, I usually write in Google Docs, which I can access on multiple devices (I used to write a lot on my phone), has convenient sharing functionality, and I use the ao3 html formatting script add-in. I generally have two documents for a single story-- one is the outline, and any other notes I want to have handy. I’ll usually put a trashcan space at the bottom for scenes that got cut but I don’t want to lose. The other is the fanfic itself.

I hope this is helpful! Please feel free to follow up with other questions and good luck with your writing!

[khalixascorner]

The Key to Me

Tony hides something special inside of a custom puzzle box for Peter.

AO3 Here

In the years Tony had been with Peter, he had always loved him most for his heart. Becoming superior had taken away Tony’s ability to experience emotions the way he once had. Which was great because panic attacks, nightmares, and guilt complexes were a thing of the past. But so were moments of overwhelming joy, crying from happiness, and for a while, he had even thought that love was gone. There was fondness for his family but it was muted. 

Until Peter. 

Peter had somehow gotten under his skin and made him feel again. It still wasn’t the same as before but there was a connection there that he could not find anywhere else. So through Peter’s vivacity and life, Tony rediscovered his own heart.

If you asked Tony what the second thing he loved most about Peter was, it would definitely be his mind. Peter was one of the few people who stood a chance at keeping up with him, who made intuitive leaps and jumps just like Tony did. 

It was that love that led Tony to crafting the masterpiece in front of him. A challenge for his love, one with the greatest of prizes at the end.

Peter was mildly perplexed when his lover placed a metal contraption the size of a large shoebox in front of him. He looked to Tony, and tilted his head, waiting for the older man to explain. 

“You have to open it,” Tony said, giving Peter his signature smirk.

“And do I get instructions on that?” Peter asked with a huff, already reaching for the box. “Looks a bit more complicated than your usual gift wrapping.”

“I thought I’d give you a real challenge,” Tony replied. The older man dropped a kiss on Peter’s head and then left, leaving Peter to focus.

“We’ll see about that,” Peter muttered, popping the first set of locks easily to open a lid on the outermost layer. Tony knew he loved puzzles but they rarely truly challenged him.

A few minutes later, he had the next step solved. This time, there was a note waiting inside. 

If we were to live forever it would still not be enough.

“As if we won’t live ridiculously long with extremis and my spider DNA,” Peter said with a snort. “You’re being too greedy, wanting more instead of just making the most of what we have.”

Peter set the message aside and continued, opening another hidden compartment to find the second note.

Greedy, I know, but I want every moment with you. 

Peter smiled and set it aside with the first note. 

The next compartment was a bit trickier, but Peter finally cracked the code only for a set of cufflinks to fall out. They were vibranium if he had to guess, and his spider sigil sat nestled inside the frame of an arc reactor. 

“You’re such a softie,” Peter murmured, running his finger gently over the design. “I can’t believe anyone believes that tough guy act.”

With a smile, Peter set them aside and continued, finding another note in the next two compartments.

There are so many things I want us to do together

We’ll travel the world and try every type of cuisine at least twice.

Peter snorted at that one. It was their running joke that everything had to be tried twice to know for sure if you liked it or not. Though that was generally applied to things in the bedroom and not their food. 

The next two were easy and took Peter no time to get open. Again he found more notes from Tony. 

And the entire time, I know I won’t be able to take my eyes off of you

Because your face will light up brighter than any celestial body in the sky

Peter had to stop for a moment, wiping his eyes and taking a few deep breaths.

“You know I’m a total sap and cry at puppies and you still write stuff like this,” Peter groused. “And you don’t even have the decency to be here when you give it to me. Jerk.”

He knew Tony was probably resting, as he had seemed confident this would take Peter awhile, but still, the older man could take some responsibility for the bubbling emotions he was creating. 

When he finally had the water works under control, Peter started again, though the next step was much harder than any of the previous ones. After some creative use of webbing, Peter finally opened another compartment to reveal a set of matching ties. They were a deep red with gold webbing inked delicately across it. 

Peter was starting to think this wasn’t just a puzzle box after all. 

“A date of some sort, clearly,” Peter muttered, curiosity motivating him to solve it faster. “Something fancy, if there’s ties and cufflinks.”

Another compartment revealed yet another note.

Then again, I can never keep my eyes off of you anyway.

“Not that I want you to,” Peter said, wishing his lover had stayed so he could say it to him directly. He’d have to make sure the older man knew how he felt after he finished taking apart his gift.

The next note made Peter wonder if he’d missed a compartment, because the tone of the note suddenly changed.

I’ve said it before, but I love your intelligence because it challenges me, and keeps things interesting.

A quick inspection had him pretty sure he hadn’t missed anything, so he continued on, finding one more compartment that opened the whole box. Nestled inside was a note sitting on top of an arc reactor core. 

But the thing I love most is your heart, because it’s my heart too.

Peter felt like his heart would burst, and was trying to wipe away a few stray tears when his hand was tugged gently away.

Tony knelt in front of him and Peter wasn’t even sure when he got there. A strand of nanites wiped away the tears even as Tony tugged Peter’s arms so that he was facing the older man.

“You’ve always been my heart and the very best of me,” Tony said, his hands holding both of Peter's. Peter’s heart stopped when he saw the small box Tony drew out with another tendril of nanites. “And I was wondering if you’d do me the honor of making it official. Be mine, forever and for always?”

Peter croaked out a yes and flung himself into Tony’s arms. Later, he would admire the beautifully crafted ring, made of shrapnel, nanites, and vibranium. Later he would truly appreciate the thought and effort Tony put into the proposal. But for now, Peter could only cry from the all consuming love he felt for his beloved, and the love his beloved made him feel back. 

[stillness-in-green]

Why Deku's ultimatum to Overhaul is bad and he should feel bad

This is a bit outside my normal character wheelhouse, but I really need to get a rant about it off my chest, so here goes:

The Deku and Overhaul scene in Chapter 316 is terrible. It is fucking terrible.

I took a whirl around Overhaul's tag up through when the leaks first started dropping, but didn't immediately see anyone talking about why it's so fucking terrible, only concerns about letting Overhaul see Eri (understandable, but baseless, I think), some empathy towards Overhaul's current state (totally warranted!), some snark about Deku being So Done with Overhaul (haha because who cares about Deku's stated goal of trying to understand villains, right?), and, worst of all, some cooing about how Deku was being so compassionate and noble by offering Overhaul that olive branch.

Deku was not being compassionate and noble there. Deku was being arrogant, small-minded, and so shockingly cruel that it leaves me speechless that anyone could think his stunted and hard-hearted "offer" reflects well on him.

Deku's entire motivation in this arc has been wrestling with the realization that he might have been able to avoid some of the desperate battles of his past if he'd understood more about the villains he fought. He thought of three very specific people--Stain, Muscular, and Overhaul--as he reflected, "Maybe it wouldn't have had to go that way if I'd understood them better." He then thought of Gentle Criminal and La Brava, people who he’d come to some understanding of, who he’d been able to soften the conclusion of his battle with by going along with Gentle's fiction downplaying what had happened between them. The whole line of thought was intended to contextualize his newfound desire to save Shigaraki.

It soon became apparent that Stain, Muscular and Overhaul were, in fact, encounters that he would be revisiting, as a chance to see how he'd grown since he faced them, and as a dry-run on reaching out to villains that would give him a chance to practice ways he might reach out to Shigaraki when the time comes.

Well, based on his performance so far, the idea that Deku might be able to reach Shigaraki is laughable.

Firstly, his tentative questions to Muscular were ill-timed, all wrong for the middle of a battle. Muscular laughed him off, and I don’t think there’s any version of that scenario in which he would have done otherwise. Muscular was a huge threat, gleefully violent, disinterested in conversation about his history. Obviously, right in the middle of a fight was no kind of time to try to figure out what made the man tick! But Deku didn’t get the luxury of choosing the circumstances of that encounter, so yes, that battle probably was unavoidable, certainly if Deku wanted to stop him from doing further damage. But the idea that because Deku couldn't reach him right then and there, it's impossible for Deku--or, indeed, for anyone--to reach him at all is fallacious. Not every person has to be able to like or understand every other person. If Deku couldn't reach Muscular, so what? That doesn't mean it's impossible that someone might. And that means an obligation to treat Muscular like a human being, to afford him human rights, to not stop trying to find a way to rehabilitate him, even as you safeguard other people against him.

Deku's battle with Muscular being unavoidable was not some great triumph, for all that the narrative used it as an opportunity to let him show off how far he’d come in mastering One For All. In the way that matters, the way that Deku himself is currently trying to better, he hasn't advanced at all. Imasuji Goto represented his first test in the lead-up to saving Shigaraki, and Deku failed it.

His next trial was Overhaul.* Here, again, was someone who Deku was explicitly trying to understand. So what was the one thing that was most key to understanding Overhaul's current motivation? What was the one thing that Overhaul was ranting about out loud, incessantly? And what did Deku conspicuously fail to ask about? Overhaul's relationship with Pops.

This was so easy. So obvious. And Deku didn’t even try. All he could think about in the moment he was faced with that broken man was the little girl that man hurt--all thoughts of trying to understand where the man himself was coming from went right out the window, flown away in an instant. Instead of asking about why Overhaul feels the way he does, he demanded that Overhaul feel the way Deku wanted. He was essentially holding the only person Overhaul cared about hostage for the remorse he wanted Overhaul to feel.

I'm not going to try to armchair diagnose Overhaul with mental conditions. I don't have the educational background, and I'm positive Horikoshi doesn't. But it seems pretty clear that asking Overhaul to feel guilt about Eri was asking for something that he might not be capable of feeling, at least not without years of therapy that he was plainly not getting in Tartarus. And if Overhaul is not capable of feeling that guilt, then what does denying Overhaul his meeting actually solve? Who does it help? It doesn’t help Eri. Doesn’t help the old man. It certainly doesn’t help Overhaul himself. The only person who gets any satisfaction out of demanding remorse from Overhaul is Deku. And even Deku didn’t look like he found it very satisfying!

Another failure. A meaninglessly cruel, petty failure. A failure that served only to hurt a man who was already a live wire of agony, to sentence an old man to a coma he might never wake from without Overhaul's expertise, and to deprive Eri of the only actual family she had left.

And look, Pops might very well not be the ideal guardian for Eri, and I'm not saying he should get to "keep" her just because of the blood connection, but it's not like he cheerfully handed her over to Overhaul and walked out the door! He turned to Overhaul because he trusted Overhaul, because he wanted someone to help Eri and thought that maybe Overhaul could. And when Overhaul's thoughts about Eri took a very dark turn, Pops first denied his request about using her to further his research and then, when Overhaul kept pushing it, chose Eri over the kid he personally took in from the streets by telling Overhaul that he needed to leave the Shie Hassaikai if he couldn't muster any more respect for human life than that.

But, you know, Eri is so cute with Aizawa and stuff. And Pops was a criminal. Probably. Maybe? I mean, he was yakuza, anyway, so he obviously must have been a criminal even if the police never actually arrested him. Apparently, this means it's okay to just leave him in a coma forever! Even though Overhaul absolutely has enough medical expertise that letting him talk to a neurologist about what he did to Pops might enable them to figure out how to wake Pops up even without Overhaul being able to use his quirk to undo the damage. Hell, Overhaul is also the person alive who has the best handle on how Eri's quirk works. He might even know what her accumulation condition is. Maybe a better thing to ransom his access to Pops with would be Overhaul telling Aizawa everything he knows about Eri's quirk so Aizawa can use the knowledge to help her get a better handle on it.

But no. Obviously undoing some small part of the concrete harm Overhaul did was less important than how Deku felt about that harm.

And there's more! Oh, is there ever. I called Deku arrogant before; let me circle back to that.

Deku said that if Chisaki would feel the way Deku wanted him to feel, then Deku would uphold the promise to let Overhaul see Pops. But where in hell did Deku get off making that claim? Deku is a student. He's not a pro. He has no authority, medical, legal, carceral or otherwise. He has no say in where Overhaul goes or who he's allowed to see.

What the fuck? What the actual fuck? What kind of strings did Deku think he could pull that he could just casually make that claim without so much as going into a huddle with Hawks and Endeavor about it first? How inflated has this kid's sense of importance gotten that he made Overhaul that promise without even stopping to think about whether it was something he was in any position to ensure? It was such a bullshit ultimatum, not only because of how needlessly obstructive it was, but because it was so formless.

"If only you would feel a wish to apologize to Eri…" Okay, so what if Overhaul goes back to prison and, three days later, calls out to say, "Okay, I thought about it and I really feel like I want to apologize, now can I see Pops already?" Who gets to make that judgment call? Deku? Is he going to drop his faux-vigilante act and come visit Overhaul in prison just so he can squint at the man really hard to see if he's lying? Is Deku going to delegate the call to someone else? All Might? Hawks? A prison warden? A psychologist? Who? Who gets to be the one to say, "Okay, I think his remorse is genuine."

Then, once that call has been made, how many people have to arrange for Overhaul to be escorted out of prison and to whatever hospital Pops is in? Will Deku get to oversee that visit? Does he think he can overturn a warden declaring, "The scum doesn't deserve a visit, and the old man probably doesn't either," or a doctor protesting, "I'm not letting that man anywhere near my patient!"

The hell of it is, I think Deku could do all of that. He's got a close personal connection to All Might, who was basically a demi-god to this society for decades; he has the ear of the current top three heroes. Everyone is apparently convinced that the power to save this society rests solely in Deku's hands; I'm sure he could ask for anything he wanted. But the fact that that is the case suggests that this society is not even slightly turning away from its dependence on heroes dictating its morality. A hero having the sole right to dictate, out of hand, based on his personal feelings, the fate of people designated "villains" while the rest of society turns away is exactly what Shigaraki is angry about.

The only thing worse than Deku perpetuating the worst problems of hero society in an arc that's supposed to be about him finding a better way is that he didn’t even stop to think about it. It never even occurred to him that that was what he was doing. He thought that what he was asking of Chisaki was just and fair, and thus, he didn’t need to ask for any second opinions or permissions; he didn’t need to think about what would actually be feasible, about what was best for the people involved. He'd made his judgment call about a villain, and that's all there was to it. The villain could fall in line or--nothing. There isn't actually another choice. Hero's way or nothing

I hate it. I hate it. I don't care about whether Overhaul "deserves" to suffer; heroes making the cold decision that they will make him suffer is antithetical to everything a carceral system intended to rehabilitate prisoners stands for. And yes, Japan does at least claim on paper that the goal of incarceration in state hands is rehabilitation.

Restorative justice is superior to retributive justice. It's better for society and it's better for individuals. It is kinder, it is more compassionate. Retributive justice poisons people. It perpetuates suffering for no reason but moral grandstanding. Individuals are allowed to forgive or not forgive anyone they want, but a society should conduct itself with an eye to the long-term welfare of all of its people. That means that even the worst kinds of criminals still have human rights. It means not inflicting pain that serves no purpose.

I've gotten off-track here. Yes, I think that if Overhaul could feel regret about Eri, that would obviously be a positive development for his character. It'd hurt like hell, but it would be a hurt that indicated he was becoming a better person, a person who wanted to do more good, less ill, with his life and efforts. But you can't mandate that someone become a better person. No ultimatum handed down from on high is going to change Overhaul's heart. Telling someone, "I'll help you, but only if you only feel the way I want you to feel. Otherwise, you can just stay there and suffer," is not reaching out to help people who are suffering in the dark, which is, again, what Deku claimed he wanted to do, what he begged for Nagant's help in doing, the way he insisted to the vestiges that OFA should be used.

Deku writing people off because they don't conform to his expectations, because they can't be "good" the way he wants them to be, nor even "bad" in ways he can understand, is him failing to live up to his own expressed ideals. "I wish you'd feel bad about hurting people," wasn't enough to reach Muscular or Overhaul, and it damn well shouldn't be enough to reach Shigaraki.

Cruelty does not beget kindness. You cannot treat people with only callousness and severity, then condemn them for not taking the opportunity to grow. You have to give them opportunities to better themselves. For Overhaul, giving him an opportunity would be letting him help the man he wronged and then moving forward from there. Telling him to feel regret about Eri or else? That's doing nothing but sweeping his pain back under the rug.

---

*I have more or less exhausted my outrage over Lady Nagant in chats with friends, so I'll spare the rant on how disjointed, contradictory and ludicrous her turn was; the gist is "very, on all counts."

---

P.S. Anyone who says that Overhaul "has nothing left to live for" is being a level of ableist that defies description. Prosthetics exist. Assistive devices exist. Speech-to-text software exists. Overhaul is intelligent, driven and highly educated. Even if he never got prosthetics at all, there would still be things he could contribute to the world if he were motivated to do so. The better thing to do, though, would be to get the man some damn prosthetics, hook him up with the neurologist consulting on Pops' case, and let the two of them get on with the matter of waking up the old man.

P.P.S. Overhaul spent six months in solitary confinement. The United Nations considers solitary confinement exceeding 15 days to be a form of torture. Solitary confinement creates severe mental health issues and exacerbates existing ones. It frequently leads to a deadening of empathy, something Overhaul has in little enough amounts as it is. It is absurd to ask a man who's just come out of these conditions to "feel sorry for what you did to Eri," especially if you're planning to turn around and send him right back to solitary. Tartarus is inhuman, and the only reason more of the escapees aren't total wrecks like Overhaul is because Horikoshi clearly didn't bother to do the reading on the wide array of problems that those characters should be experiencing physically, mentally and socially.

[sleepy-belphie]

I have a request if you’re up for it. An MC who just arrived in the Devildom who’s lover just dumped them the day prior. The bros know MC isn’t emotionally or romantically available at the time but the bros still fall in love regardless. How will the bros handle the situation? Thank you! 🙏💗

Hi! I sort of took this idea and ran with it and wrote basically a headcanon short story for each bro lmao. Sorry I got a bit carried away but I hope you like this and it satisfies you! :) 

Also thank you so much @midnight-dome for the help with Asmo, you’re a lifesaver

Tags: @kawaiiblack

~~~~~

Lucifer:

The success of the program depends on your wellbeing

So he checks in on you every other day like clockwork 

“Is there anything you need to make your stay more comfortable?”

You always say no

At first, he’s glad you’re staying in 

Because it means less trouble for him

But when you skip all of your classes one day, he comes to your room ready to give you a firm reminder of your tasks here

He’s about to knock when he hears you sob 

Now, Lucifer has heard a lot of crying in his life

But he’s never heard someone sound so completely broken

He shocks himself when he turns on his heels and walks away

He shocks himself even more when he texts the group chat and demands everyone leaves you alone for the day

That evening he comes into your room with a small plate of food

By then you were are least on top of your sheets

You knew he was gonna ask the same question as always

But this time, his words were different

“Is there anything I can do to help?”

“Help?” 

He simply nods

And though he didn’t outright say what he meant by help, you knew

“I...don’t know?”

“Hm, okay. I’m going to listen to some music in my study. The door will be unlocked should you wish to join me.”

Then he’s gone

The few precious moments Lucifer isn’t working, he prefers to not be disturbed

So why on earth did he invite you to join him in his study?

He doesn’t have time to ponder it because the door opens and you come in with a blanket wrapped around you

The first night you both listen in comfortable silence

A few nights in, you start asking Lucifer about the records he puts on and he has no qualms educating you on it

On night 10 you tell him about the breakup

Once you’re done he, again, asks the same question

“Is there anything I can do to help?”

‘You’ve done more than enough to help me Lucifer, thank you.”

He finds himself blushing from the sincerity in your eyes and the warmth in your smile

That night you fall asleep before the record finishes

Surely you’d wake up aching if he left you in a chair

So he picks you up, carries you to your room, and tucks you into bed carefully

He tells himself he’s doing it for Diavolo

It’s for the program, this is his job

He’s gonna need time to accept his own feelings before he can tell you anything

For now, he’ll keep doing his “job” and spending evenings with you

Mammon:

He didn’t want to be your babysitter

He was a busy guy! He had stuff to do, money to make, things to steal

Some days he gets Beelzebub to keep an eye on you so he can do what he wants

One night in particular he heads to your room to make sure you won’t interfere with his plans

“Yo! The Great Mammon has things to do so don’t-”

He pauses when he sees you sitting on your bed with your headphones plugged into your laptop

He would have assumed you were just watching a sad movie by the tears streaks on your face

But the pain in your eyes…

He’s seen that look before

His brothers held that same look the day they fell from Heaven and lost Lilith

Mammon sits on the bed and you jump, finally noticing him

You expected him to make fun of you but instead, he grabs the tissue box on your bedside table and hands it to you

He glances at your laptop to see what you were watching and sees a paused video of you and someone else

You tell him about the breakup and Mammon listens closely

“What a jerk! Ya deserve better than that! I’d teach ‘em a lesson if they ever showed their face around here!”

You smile for the first time since he came in the room and he feels like he’s done something right

“How about we get some late-night food? I know a 24-hour restaurant with the best baked newt ever. Your treat.”

He’s shocked when you agree

He makes a point to hang out with you more often

He can’t recall exactly when you went from “a human” to “his human” 

Maybe it was when you held his hand while you erased all your photos and videos of your ex from your computer

Or when you texted him at 3am because you couldn’t sleep and before he could even think about it he was up and on his way to your room

Or when he spotted you in one of his jackets while walking home from RAD

But his greed was kicking in and he wanted you to be his and only his

However, much like he puts himself first, he knows you need to do the same

So though his nature and mind wants to kiss you silly and have you for himself

Part of him knows he’ll ruin things if he lets his greed take over

So he’ll fight his nature and try his best to be patient

Leviathan:

He had been playing one of his games online

He’s on a big winning streak and feeling a bit cocky

He sees he’s been matched with someone else so he gets into gamer mode 

Then he loses the first round

He’s a bit shocked and pissed that his streak was now broken but he has to prove his superiority to whoever this opponent was

So he rematches them

And loses again

And again

He loses 7 rounds in a row

By this point he is fuming

So like any salty gamer he sends a very lengthy, angry message to their inbox

Accusing them of using cheats and hacks because there was no way anyone was more skilled than him at this game

He gets a reply a few minutes later

“Um.....is this Leviathan? Avatar of Envy? It’s MC…”

You knew it was Levi because his username is the same across all his social media platforms

Cue Levi barreling into your room a minute later

“How are you so good!? You’re cheating, aren’t you!? You cheater!’

You weren’t cheating, you just had been playing games day in and day out to distract yourself so you got really good at it

Levi all but demands you to come to his room and show him what you know

You were already playing all night anyway so why not play with someone? 

Initially, Levi would have you come over just to show him your tactics 

(Also to get some team wins on his stats because he never has anyone to play with)

But you were actually pretty chill for a normie

Maybe if he exposed you to his otaku ways you would take to them and he wouldn’t be the only one in the house anymore!

You don’t become an otaku but you do get invested in almost every anime he shows you

He starts inviting you over for midnight premieres of new episodes

He starts buying extra merch because what if you wanted one?

He was used to disproving looks from his brothers when he mass buys stuff from Akuzon

But you only smile and listen when he tells you about his new special edition item

You never once judged him and his unconventional ways

This epiphany makes him extra nervous for your weekly hangouts

It was only a matter of time before you came across a break up in an anime

When the episode ended you told him about your break up and how the protagonist reminded you of yourself because they also were taking a break from love

Levi has seen this anime before actually

He remembers how the protagonist reacted to a side character confessing to them and it went bad

So while he knows he likes you, he holds off on saying anything because the last thing he wants is to be a bad story arc in your life

Lucky for him he’s always a flustered blushing mess so you shouldn’t suspect a thing

Satan:

He is the Avatar of Wrath so whenever there is rage, he is aware

He feels anger radiating through the house one day and thinks his brothers are just fighting again

Imagine his surprise when he realizes the source of the anger is coming from your room

He walks in and sees you throwing things around and screaming, your room was destroyed

He sees you’re about to step on some glass and instantly swoops in and picks you up so you don’t hurt yourself

But then you curl up against him and burst into tears

He stands there, not quite sure what to do 

He ends up sitting on the bed and letting you cry for a while

You word vomit about your break up and he listens carefully and notes the anger welling up inside you as you speak

He knows all too well what anger can do to someone and a fragile human shouldn’t have to go through that

“Would you like some tea?”

He can spare 30 minutes for some small talk with the human if it meant that you wouldn’t be left in your thoughts

You look at him like he has three heads but agree because your room is a mess and you don’t wanna deal with it right now

Tea time becomes a daily occurrence and soon enough it escalates to full-on hangouts

Going to the bookstore, going to cat cafes, going wherever you wanted to really

One time you both took a day trip to the human world

Lucifer wasn’t happy to find out his brother and you were gone for an entire day but he lets it go when he sees that you’re smiling genuinely for the first time in weeks

What Satan didn’t expect was how these outings made him feel

He finds himself distracted from his books because he can’t stop thinking about how cute you looked holding that black cat at the cafe

Or how happy you looked when you took him to that ice cream shop in your hometown that you really love

He wakes up and you’re the first thing to pop into his mind

He’s not dumb, he knows he’s fallen in love

But he also knows this isn’t the right time, you aren’t ready

So he’ll keep being there for you as a friend

And if you ever want him to be there as something more, he’ll happily oblige

Asmodeus:

There was a movie night at the House of Lamentation

Today’s movie was an action movie, courtesy of Mammon

Amidst all the face punching and explosions, there was a budding romance between the main characters

After the third obnoxious makeout scene, you leave the room claiming you need to go to the restroom

But you leave just a *little* too fast and Asmo can feel something is up

And he thrives on gossip so he intends to find out what is it

He leaves the room a few minutes later and catches you in the hallway, determined to get you to spill the tea

You tell him about the breakup

He wasn’t prepared for the tea to be so bitter

“Oh. Well, you know what’s good for that? Face masks!” 

He had to save face somehow and beauty was his default

He’s a bit shocked when you agree but you both ditch movie night to do face masks and talk a bit

He decides to share a couple of bad date experiences he’s had to make you feel better

“Trust me, you haven’t felt embarrassment until you have someone vomit Enfield brains on your new pants and shoes while at one of the hottest clubs in the Devildom.”

You spent the entire night giggling and listening to his stories

Devildom products are surprisingly effective on your skin so you keep asking Asmo to show you new products

Plus his company is nice

Self-care days become a common occurrence

Then those self-care days become self-care sleepovers

He starts intentionally waiting to try anything new because he wants you to be there when he does

He buys more of those scented candles you told him smelled nice

A few weeks later you’re having a self-care sleepover again and you have this really cute focused look on your face while painting your nails

He knows he likes you, but this was different than his usual attraction

He didn’t want to fuck you

Well he did but not just fuck you

He wouldn’t mind if there was something more

But you routinely ended your self-care nights by yelling ‘Fuck love!’ at the top of your lungs and laughing

So he knows now isn’t the time and he’s actually okay with that

You were a sight to behold regardless of his relationship status with you

But he hopes you’ll indulge in him one day

Beelzebub:

Mammon keeps pushing his human watching duties on Beel

But he doesn’t really care because he’s being paid in cheesecake

After his third day of keeping an eye on you, he notices you aren’t eating much

Being the Avatar of Gluttony, this is basically a crime

He starts bringing extra snacks with him when he hangs out with you

“I think the chocolate flavor is better than the vanilla. What do you think?”

He actually doesn’t have a preference 

He just wants to know which snacks you like more so he can bring more of them

He makes a game out of it so you don’t think about how much you’re eating

“It motivates me to work out longer when I get a snack, could you help me?”

You sit on his back and after every pushup, you both eat a bit of whatever snack he has

He keeps going until he thinks you’ve eaten a decent amount

Or you say you’re getting full

Belphie notices that Beel is refilling his snack stash more often but he doesn’t say anything

Beel feels an immense sense of accomplishment when you finish your plate at dinner a few days later

Soon after you tell him about the breakup

“It hit me hard but you made it easier to cope, Beel. These hangouts are the highlight of my day so thank you.”

There’s a certain pang Beel gets in his stomach when he’s really hungry

Somehow your words made that pang happen in his chest

But this didn’t hurt him, quite the opposite actually

He felt good, he felt happy

It was strange for his stomach to be the quiet one while his heart went wild

But this wasn’t a change he minded too much

He wasn’t sure what to make of it but he knows he wants to figure it out with you

And he’ll take his time doing so because he liked how things were now

Belphegor:

He’s intrigued by you after the first week of your stay

He’s never seen a human who slept as much as he did

Frankly, he was impressed

Until Lucifer informed everyone about your recent breakup and made it clear to not upset you

That’s when Belphie realized these were not the leisurely naps he takes, but depression naps

One day he sees you sleeping in the living room and you looked so distressed

Sleeping was meant to be a peaceful state but you looked so unhappy

So he wakes you up

“You’re in my sleeping spot.”

You weren’t in his sleeping spot.

“Oh sorry, I’ll move-”

“You’re already here. We can both fit.” 

Before you can protest he’s all comfy next to you and falling back asleep

Having another person next to you was kind of comforting so you let it go and go back to sleep

What you didn’t know was Belphie could partially influence your dreams

He can make them more pleasant but he can’t control what you dream about

He knows it works when he wakes up and you have a relaxed expression on your sleeping face

You wake up soon after looking confused

“Good dream?”

“I think? I had a dream I rode a unicorn to the moon then carved my initials into it?”

Napping together in the living room becomes a routine

And every time you woke up you told him about the dream you had with a small smile

A few weeks later he notices he no longer has to influence your dreams for them to be good

So he leaves you be and instead curls up in the attic for his afternoon nap

He wakes up a bit when he feels someone lay down next to him

It’s probably Beel

“Why didn’t you tell me you moved napping spots?”

His eyes open and he looks over to see you pouting at him

“I just sorta ended up here.”

“Well, I can’t nap without my cuddle buddy now can I?”

You’re teasing him and he should be annoyed

But he’s blushing

He spoons you to hide that fact, resting his forehead on your shoulder

But while your dreams were getting better, it didn’t mean you were ready to move on

So he just enjoys his intimate cuddling sessions with you and tries not to think too hard about the fact that he really likes how your body fits against his

[river-bottom-nightmare]

Nightwing #80 Review

woot woot i’ve kept it up for three issues lets gooo. i liked this issue more than the last one. there’s a lot of fanon dick characterization peppered in, but not so much that it puts me off entirely. also, i’m getting increasingly concerned about bitewing. but i did like tim in this one, very nice

look at all the blue and purple and pink. honestly at this point, i’m a broken record but come on come on come onnnnnnn. the blue and pink is very pretty though. this cover’s a bit offputting at first, and a bit spiraly, which i’m sure was the intended effect.

this is a genuine concern of mine. dick’s a vigilante, and he doesn’t have the same sprawling network and resources that bruce does. (even if he is a billionaire now, he hasn’t amassed the same collection of crime-fighting equipment that bruce has.) 

i’m not sure if he’ll be able to take care of bitewing. damian’s got plenty of pets, but alfred used to take care of them, and now bruce plus the rest of the batfam is taking care of them. as far as we know, babs only drops by occasionally, and the same goes for dick’s family and friends. will dick be able to give bitewing the love and time and affection that a traumatized puppy like her needs? i really hope so.

she does look adorable in this panel tho.

dick. richard. richie. baby. why are you shirtless.

you have scars upon scars. probably chemical burns. bullet wounds. weird fucking squiggly lines from knives that only psychos with blade fetishes use. no normal person has the body that you do. and you don’t think that showing up shirtless in front of the police is going to raise suspicion? you don’t think that the people accusing you of murder are going to look at someone who looks like they’re a fucking mob enforcer and go hmm that’s a bit suspicious?

put on a SHIRT jesus CHRIST it’s like you’re not even trying to hide your identity.

look at this pompous little princess demanding only the highest quality head pets i’d burn down latvia for her. (no offense latvians it was the first country that popped into my head.)

pretty boy pretty boy pretty boy pretty boy-

no seriously kudos to the artist here. his expression is so human i wanna cry. dick, right now, is sheepishly asking a question. he knows he’s not going to get into any real trouble, he knows that he’ll be able to talk his way out of or somehow maneuver his way off this mess. but he’ll play nice for the police, so he’s asking a friend for a favour, part self-condescendingly and part oh-well-what-can-you-do.

and his expression reflects that. rather than a stoic expressionless face most male comic characters have when asking someone for something (or all the time really), rather than the weird desperate supposedly “seductive” face that most female comic characters plus dick grayson have when asking someone for something (or all the time really), he’s making a face that i pulled like yesterday. or the day before that. it’s kind of silly, kind of casual, very much human. i like it.

thank god. proper (in character) acknowledgement for officer grayson. yea, fuck cops in general, but i like that they included this line.

obviously, he’s not talking about the actual criminals, he’s talking about the police force itself. the bpd was too corrupt, and dick realized that he wasn’t helping. not only does one clean cop not make a dent in an overall dirty force, but dick was putting his allies in danger too. not only that, but it wasn’t good for dick’s mental health either. he was spreading himself too thin, and surrounding himself with some of the worst of crime 24/7 did a number on him. dick’s got a history of self-sacrificing tendencies, and i’m just glad he’s not a cop anymore.

dick has a gotham rogues mug. they make gotham rogue mugs, and dick has one.

what kinda city looks at it’s frankly horrible crime history and long list of certifiably insane serial killers who are all still alive and actively committing war crimes and goes “oooooh yea imma put that on a coffee mug!” gotham, that’s who.

this isn’t important i just like how all of bitewing’s barks are blue

back straight, hand on his hip, cheerful smile on his face as he says he’s being accused for murder. love that for him.

they couldn’t have said “yea it’s complicated” in a better way even if they put the words “yea it’s complicated” right there on the page in bold red letters. literally all the love to the artists.

dick please. you’re KILLING ME what the actual fuck IS THAT???? WHY DO YOU HAVE A MUG OF THAT???

anyway nightwing collects novelty mugs confirmed.

this paneling is so beautiful. 

tim’s the focus, but he’s not the first thing you see. he’s placed in a way that forces the reader to drag their eyes all the way up the page in order to reach him. it us know just how high up tim is carelessly crouching, especially close to the ledge of the building too. i cannot think of a single better way to introduce a character, and this character in particular: you instantly know this is a version of tim with plenty of experience and training, is comfortable in his body and knows his limits, but still hangs onto that civilian awe of being in a high place and overlooking a brightly lit city.

absolute classic robin. i love it. 

this isn’t even that important but it made me happy. this is how you train surf.

you don’t crouch or bend over when you get to a tunnel, which is oddly enough what most people think (at least from my experience). you bend backward. that not only 100% ensures that you’ll make sure you’re low enough to make it through the tunnel (because you can see the top of the tunnel, unlike when you crouch or bend), but it also makes it easier to get up: all you have to do is push up with your arms into a bent stance, and you’ll be in a ready, moving position. from a bend or a crouch, getting up is more awkward and more slow.

on a meta level, i like that this creative team knows what they’re doing when it comes to the small, almost unimportant stuff like that, because it makes the action more real. (as real as you can get with a guy running around stealing hearts.)

on a in-universe level, it once again drives home both dick and tim’s experience and professional level skill.

regardless of who you side with in the “should tim drake be robin again?” debate, you gotta admit that tim’s rebirth robin suit is r a d as fuck. if i’m not mistaken, this is the same one he was wearing in 2019 young justice for a little bit? it’s cute and hella cool i like it.

remember what i said about human expressions? doesn’t happen as often to tim bc he’s a Child, but it’s still nice to note when someone humanizes him, too. (that’s why i love the duckboy panel so much lol.)

me, at first: that’s not a “good call” dick that’s just common sense

me, now: sprinkled throughout the entire comic we can see dick bending to tim’s instructions if only briefly, joking with him to keep the mood light while still maintaining a serious mood and retaining control over this particular outing. this implies that dick’s doing it intentionally, purposefully leaving places in his sentences blank and offering affirmations, in order to encourage tim and train him in things bruce might not necessarily touch on, such as social chameleoning and misdirection techniques and love/affirmation from a family member. dick is not only a loving and supportive big brother, but he never stops training his younger brother in better vigilante tecnhiques because he wants tim to be better than him. in this essay i will-

d o g g o

also bitewing is getting so many head pats today i’m living for it

look at him, standing on a telephone wire with ease. nice flex, dick.

also look at how he’s silhouetted. the moon’s full bright, bright enough that the sky around dick is light, too. (at least. i’m like 99% sure that’s the moon.) not like most batman comics, where it’s sometimes hard to distinguish bruce from the background, which is entirely on purpose.

gotham is a dark gritty city, and so is bruce. the two of them are one. bludhaven may be a bit of a mess, but it’s being portrayed in all these different shades of blue and purple and pink, that are all light enough that dick stands out from the background. he hasn’t been swallowed up by the city, and chances are that he won’t ever be. also, the colouring helps establish bludhaven as a city too. there’s still hope for it. the light colouring means that it’s not going to sink into a pit as deep as the one bruce wove gotham into. the whole point of this nightwing arc in particular is to turn bludhaven into a better place, and it’s (most likely) letting us know early on that dick is going to accomplish that. he’ll struggle, but he’ll do it.

so dick??? dick designed his escrima sticks with a situation like this in mind? he created his signature and most iconic weapon (other than his chatty mouth), with a built in feature that turns his escrima sticks into tim’s signature and most iconic weapon???? just so that if he and tim ever got into a situation where tim didn’t have his staff, dick could make sure tim had the thing that would give him an edge over anyone he was fighting??? he’s such a big brother oh my goddd.

also tim’s smirk in this is just *chef kiss.* a staff is something he can work with, a staff is something he wields like an extension of his arm, a staff is means that someone’s about to get their ass kicked because tim’s about to beat the shit outta them.

this is my new phone background.

they really made sure we remembered that hey, those first few months when bruce was grieving too much to be any sort of a mentor to tim and was still unwilling to properly train him to be robin out of fear that he would end up like jason, dick was the one who stepped up (once he got over himself and his own fears and hangups with bruce) and trained tim to be robin, trained him how to fight and flip and fuckin fly out there, all while changing his own style a bit to be the more experienced one in the partnership while still trusting said partner to hold their own, so dick and tim have a very unique and cohesive fighting style that makes it hell for anyone who fights them together, didn’t they?