#sometimes i think too hard about how codependent they probably were before everything happened and make myself ill

[incineraryperiphery]

think they should be more insane about each other, actually

[serenheist]

What Jungkook is like in a relationship/ Jungkook as a boyfriend Tarot reading

I was gonna put Jin up first but I finished Jungkook quicker so oops but I’m finally back after 200 years of adulting things

1. How long does it take Jungkook to get into a relationship? 8 of pentacles, 2 of cups, the world Do he prefer long or short term relationships 7 of swords, ace of wands Nelys the alchemist 27 reversed, 5 of swords, 9 of cups reversed 

For an actual relationship and not just dating I think he can take a while if not a long ass time because he’s too much of a perfectionist and will work hard at making sure everything is right before getting into a relationship. I don't know why I’m getting like before things would get “steamy” he would never let them see his body until he worked out enough for his own standards like everything has to be perfected and mastered beforehand. There’s also a reoccurring theme of work getting in the way and even in the beginning stages it’s like he meets up with them does whatever then has to hurry and run back to work and is like “hey I gotta go but I’ll text you later” type of shit. Big focus mostly on career though so it’s hard to tell. But I still think he’s not just sleeping around with just anyone I mean they have to be important if the 2 of cups pops up. I don’t think he’ll get into an actual relationship with someone unless there’s a strong connection. Or at least to him it seems like an important connection.

I gotta say too that the 7 of swords usually screams fuckboi to me but in this case I think the lying and trickery aspect of the card can be taken literally to mean of course he has to lie and sneak around when fans would legit doxx and slit his partners throat if they knew they were together. But anyway in a relationship there’s definitely gonna be extremely strong sexual chemistry I don’t know why this keeps popping up but alright. But one annoying thing is that in a relationship jungkook seems to like fighting in a way. He doesn’t like to lose to anything and will want to win an argument even if it’s petty. There’s also a kind of energy of the other person feeling inadequate sometimes with how much praise he gets from the entire world. It makes the other person feel as exposed since they’re not doing as “well” in the grand scheme of things. And will sometimes not want to compliment him on things because he gets compliments from the entire world this is just day to day petty shit. Another thing is getting into a relationship thinking this person is the one but then realizing over time and all the work you put in was useless cause this is emotionally unfulfilling.

2. Past and present love life king of pentacles, wheel of fortune reversed, queen of pentacles 

Past: bruh his love life in the past is similar to the present. He was mostly focused on building his own career and wealth and love was on the back burner tbh. I think since he has huge goals for himself there was really no time to even do other things. But his love life right now seems like it’s a external long term problem affecting it. And I think he’s learning how to balance his love life and work life right now and just letting things happen and trying to take care of his body and mind.

3. What is he like in a relationship Tobaira of the waters 37 reversed, The glanconer 62 reversed, mother of dawn, knight of pentacles, flashover 11, 6 of swords reversed, addiction 11, envious gluttony 9, is this me? 4

When Jungkook is in a relationship he doesn’t fully feel like he can be emotionally vulnerable and instead will act mischievous and play around to hide behind vulnerability. It can tend to make the other person mad because they never know when he’ll actually be serious because he plays too much sometimes. There’s also playing up to peoples ideas of him. It’s not outwardly tricking people but allowing them to believe what they want and project their fantasies on him. It’s like a weird energy of wanting to rebel but also you feel stuck and want to please them so you don’t let them down. I think he overthinks legit everything and makes things a bigger deal in his mind than what it really is.

Another thing is he could have a tendency to stay with someone even if it’s toxic because of a mix of remembering the good times and also insecurities. There are big vibes of being emotionally stunted like I feel that he’s mentally a teenager still and even though he’s physically different and projects something different. When he’s in a relationship; he still feels like that insecure kid in his head and he can’t escape it. It’s like a false bravado thing going on. There’s a hole that leads to darkness and from that another one that leads to even more darkness. That's dramatic but that’s what it’s like for him. It’s like this emotionally starved monster in his head but in reality the monster is this scrawny young boy who wants to let go and open up but is blocked by himself and running away from his shadow aspects. I do see him though slowly moving towards becoming more open, honest allowing his vulnerable and passionate side out in a healthier way but it might take a while (unless he’s already been working on this) since the knight of pentacles is the slowest knight but he’s also the most stable and loyal.

4. What is his "type" the sage 19 reversed, knight of cups reversed, Jeanne the maid, golden empress, the lovers reversed, 3 of cups reversed 

His ideal type is someone who can come across as aloof, cold, excessively critical. Hey I tried to give him the benefit of the doubt but when I pulled a clarifier I got the knight of cups reversed lolll. Dude likes toxic people apparently. On the surface they might look “normal” but on the inside their inner world is overflowing and they have an abundance of charisma and sexual energy. Honestly that could be a big reason why he likes that. There’s a big dualistic energy in them and appearing the best on surface level but underneath is really unpredictable and has the energy of unrequited love. I think he likes those types of people who don’t fawn over him like he’s the second coming of Jesus tbh. This person doesn’t give 2 fucks and they don’t tell everything up front they’re mysterious and it’s more of a challenge for him. They’re really good at appearing humble and maybe innocent even but that’s just because they know how to woo people really. They’re confident and can convince people of almost anything especially around those in power they know how to present their best self to get what they want.

At first I was confused why your ideal type would be someone that seems manipulative af but it makes sense when Jungkook has a lot of deep dark shit he needs to work on from the other cards. I think it’s a big codependency thing and excitement that someone toxic can bring also the fact that this person is down for anything in the bedroom they’re not ashamed or shy about it. His idea of love is pretty distorted he thinks he needs someone who is as intense as he is but really it would be a bad combination especially with the lovers reversed. I’m getting especially that as long as he keeps going after these types of people, he’s never going to be with his “true love” for a lack of a better term. Basically not be with someone who is actually good for him. There could be third party bs but I’m getting more of an overindulged and addiction energy between both of them. Even if he knows they’re no good it’s just so intoxicating it’s like a damn drug to him and it feeds into his more animalistic side (I have no idea how to articulate this lmao) it’s like possessive nature. This reminds me a lot of the attachment types since there’s a lot of people like this who love a more avoidant person and I feel that Jungkook is probably avoidant himself so this is like home sweet home to him. It puts him in the cat chasing mouse position instead of the other way around. That emotionally unavailable energy is very appealing to a lot of people I guess especially when you’re used to everyone bending over backwards for you.

5. What is his love language: Ta’Om the poet 29 reversed, the bodacious Bodach 59 reversed 

He likes when someone actually does helpful things for him that is useful and not like the annoying meddling energy of just doing stuff for him that he doesn’t want you to do. He also does this for others. So acts of service mostly but you already knew that.

[supercorpkid]

Stronger together.

Supercorp, Kara Danvers x Daughter!Reader, Lena Luthor x Daughter!Reader, Alex Danvers x Niece!Reader

Word count: 2410.

“Starting today, Superkid doesn’t exist anymore.”

The look you get from everyone is of absolute horror. Like you just told them you decided to become a supervillain and you’re going to destroy planet Earth in thirty seconds.

Funny enough, that’s the amount of time it takes for one of them to be able to say something.

“Wait a second.” Aunt Alex is the first one to react. “You’re telling me that the best superhero in National City is quitting? No offense, Kara.”

“None taken, I agree!” Kara jumps right after. “I thought you loved supering?”

“Yeah…” You shrug. “But I love my life a little bit more, so-”

“Baby, shouldn’t you give more thought to this? We’ll support you no matter what, but this is a huge decision.” Lena adds with a concerned tone. You smile.

“Dear Rao, you guys are turning this into a bigger deal than it is.” You roll your eyes with a reassuring smile. “It’s not like I’ll stop existing. I’ll just be a normal teenage girl from now on. Y’know, like Jamie over here.”

“Yeah, well, but-” It’s not hard, but rendering Kara speechless is always exciting.

“Ok, good talk.” You get out of the living room and Jamie follows you into your room.

“Oh wow.” She throws herself in your bed. “That was so dramatic. Thanks for texting me a heads up, I would be shocked if I had found out like that.”

You smile, dismissing it with your hand. “They’ll get over it. It’s not like I was always a superhero anyway.”

“That’s true!” Jamie agrees with her head for a while. “You did save a bunch of people while you were at it, though.”

You shrug.

“Lena was saved so many times, I wonder if she would still be alive if it weren’t for you.” Jamie adds and you look back at her furrowing your eyebrows.

“Supergirl would have saved her.” You don’t even believe your own words.

“Really? Last time I checked Supergirl was unconscious next to her in the Fortress.”

“Well, I-” You squint your eyes. “Stop it. I know what you’re doing. You want me to quit quitting. Well, it’s not going to work. I won’t quit! Quitting, I mean. I won’t quit quitting.” You growl. “Whatever, just stop it.”

“What are you talking about? I’m not trying to make you quit quitting. Especially because, apparently, you can’t super without almost killing yourself. And I don’t like the feeling of losing you every time.”

“You never actually lost me.”

“Ok, standing beside your bed at the DEO not sure if you’re going to wake up is very close to losing you. I don’t think my brain can make the distinction.” Jamie mumbles and your heart squeezes on your chest. You hug her without saying a word, and she lets out a breath that looks like she was holding it for a while.

“I’m sorry for almost dying several times. I promise that things will be easier now.” You shrug and she agrees with her head.

“At least until the next time your hero complex kicks in.” She jokes and you roll your eyes at her. “But you did save me, so… I don’t know. The idea of you not being a superhero is sort of bittersweet.”

“Yeah.” You sit next to her. “To me too.”

“But we will make do.” She throws her arm around your shoulder, hugging you sideways. “Because we are stronger together.”

“Yes, we are.” You agree with a smile.

It’s late at night when the game downstairs ends and Alex shows up at your door to call Jamie. Before leaving, aunt Alex hugs you tight.

“I’m gonna miss saving the world with you.” Alex says with a smile. “You are much better at that than Kara.”

“HEY!” You hear Kara’s interjection downstairs.

“Stop listening to our private conversation!” Alex yells back at her. She puts her hand on your shoulder. “I’ll step up my game of saving people, in your place.”

“That brings me peace of mind.” You smile, earning a reassuring squeeze on your shoulder.

“I’m here for you. You know that, right? Stronger together.” Aunt Alex asks and you hug her in agreement. “Great. I love you, kiddo. You’re my favorite Luthor-Danvers.”

You both stop talking and wait to hear Kara’s reaction. It doesn’t come.

“I’m shocked she obeyed.” Alex says making her way to the stairs and you wave at her.

“I love you too, aunt Alex.”

“Knock, knock.” You hear on the other side of the door, a little before you go to bed. You smile because Kara is such a dork.

“You know, you can actually knock on the door instead of saying it, right?” You say on the other side and Kara opens the door with the biggest smile on her face.

“HA HA, I didn’t know I had raised such a comedy expert.” She jokes, making her way to where you are on your bed. “How are you, little one?”

“I’m great.” You smile at her, sincerely. You are great. Deciding not to be Superkid just took off the biggest weight you’ve been carrying on your shoulders. You feel lighter.

“You know I completely support you.” Kara says, putting one lock of your hair behind your ear. “Whatever you want to do with your life, I’ll be by your side.”

“Thanks, momma.” You smile at her. “I support you too, in case you want to quit anything.”

She chuckles. “Thank you, that’s very sweet of you.” But her expression turns serious after a few seconds. “Being a superhero is-” She sighs, looking for words. You have a bunch to offer her. Exhausting, emotionally draining, insane, traumatic. “Weird.”

“To say the least.”

“Yeah.” Kara lays her head on your lap, looking at you from down there. “It’s weird to describe it because it’s a mix of things. Sometimes-” She smiles looking excited. “It’s the most thrilling feeling in the universe. When you’re up there, wind blowing in your head, and that powerful feeling that you can do and go anywhere. And sometimes you save someone, and oh man!”

“You feel invincible. Like you can take on the world.” You add, and Kara agrees vividly with her head.

“But sometimes, for the lack of a better word, it just straight up sucks.” Kara crinkles her nose, and you smile at how cute she looks. “Sometimes you feel like, yeah you know, I could die for these people because I love them with all my heart.”

“I know that feeling.”

“And they love you so much too! It just feels worthy, right?” She asks and you agree with your head. “But sometimes it doesn’t feel like that. It feels the opposite. There were a few times when I was this close to dying, and I kept thinking ‘but why Kara? Why are you leaving everyone you love behind to die for people who don’t even appreciate you?’”

“Why would you?”

“Kid. I-I don’t know.” Kara lets out another chuckle. “You know what it's like. You’re up there, and you know it has to be you because no one else can do what you’re doing. And there’s something inside that just stops us from turning away and letting it all play out how it was supposed to.”

You also know that feeling. That’s how you ended up in outer space in another reality to save people you didn’t even know that well. To save a reality that wasn’t even yours. And you had the chance to turn your back to it, over and over again. Yet, you never took the easy path.

“What I came here to tell you, is that I get it. I get the feeling. I’ve had it a million of times. When I was giving everything to the world, and it kept taking things from me. I thought about giving up so many times it’s ridiculous.” Kara sighs again. You put your hand on her hair, stroking it gently for support. “So, yeah, I understand.”

“But?” You ask with a tiny smile.

“But if you ever want to do it again, I’ll understand and support you too.” She gets up from your lap and kisses your forehead. “And if you ever need to talk to anyone about this superhero stuff, you can always come to me, cause I’m sure I probably felt the same thing once or twice in my life. Ok? We’re stronger together.”

“Ok, momma. Thank you.”

“Momma got you, little one. Always.” She hugs you tight, and you breathe deep, feeling her comfort. “If I’m being honest, I’m sort of excited that I won’t have to go fish you in outer space anymore.”

“Me too.” You chuckle on her chest. “It’s exhausting, almost dying all alone in a pitch-black dark place with no air in your lungs.”

“It sounds like it.” Kara lets go of you and looks at you, adoringly. “I love you so much, you’re my heart.”

“And you’re mine.” You smile, getting another forehead kiss from Kara.

“Ok, go to bed. It’s late.” She moves to the door but stays there watching you for a little bit. “You’re the best kid in the universe, and we’re so lucky to have you.”

“Thanks momma.” You smile, thankful. It’s good to hear that. In normal circumstances this would make you happy. But where you find yourself right now, it’s even better. It’s good to be reassured that you’re understood, and you’re loved no matter what, and that even though you just gave up being a superhero you’re still the best kid for her. Rao, you love Kara so much.

“Hey.” You hear a soft knock on the door. You don’t use your x-ray vision. You don’t have to. Kara just left so it’s obviously not her.

“Come in, mom.” You say and Lena opens the door, softly. She puts her head inside your bedroom and smiles at you.

“Oh, great. I just wanted to check on you, but you’re going to sleep, right?” She asks and you agree with your head. “Great. Good night, babygirl.”

“Mom, can I ask you something?” You ask and Lena goes inside your bedroom, agreeing with her head. “Can you, um, stay a little?”

“Yeah!” Lena agrees excitedly, like that was exactly what she was thinking. She makes her way to the bed next to you, getting under the comforter with you.

“Sorry for being so codependent these days, I just-”

“Stop.” Lena says pulling you closer. “Come hug me.” You toss your arm over her, and she kisses the top of your head. You can’t see her face, but you know she’s smiling. “I’ve been feeling very codependent too. Actually, if you would have me, I would have been sleeping with you since you were five. But I guess you wanted your independence.”

“Not anymore.” You sigh, hugging her tightly. “I’ve missed you.”

“You know, I went to L Corp after what happened. There were pictures of you everywhere.” You can genuinely hear her smile. “I just kept thinking how crazy that was, but how hard I needed it to be true. Your little face. I mean don’t get me wrong, Kara’s face is beautiful, and I really wanted her to be my family too. But you. I wish I could explain the feeling.”

“It’s like-” You start. “Like this feeling that nothing would make sense. And that, yeah, you would have other people you love around you, but that missing piece is so fundamentally meaningful for the bigger picture, for your life, to make sense. Without it, all of it would fall into pieces and fade into a life you wouldn’t want to live.”

Your ear is so glued to Lena’s chest that you can hear her heart skipping a beat, without having to use your super hearing. You lift your head to look at her, and she’s crying silent tears with a smile on her face.

“Was that how you felt without me?” She asks and you nod, biting your lower lip. “Oh, my baby!” She pulls you into the hug again. “My baby.”

Lena just spends a few minutes stroking your hair, gently. It feels so nice you feel yourself dozing off to sleep. But you wouldn’t want to keep her stuck under you, so you fight it.

“Listen-” Lena calls you and you change position so you can look at her. “I know I wasn’t always as supportive as I should’ve been about your supering. It’s not that I don’t appreciate it. I mean, I have to appreciate it more than anyone because you keep saving my life. It’s just, when you’re out there, I get so scared.”

“I know.” You agree softly. “But momma is out there too, and you-”

“Almost die every time she gets just the tiniest scratch. Yeah.” She smiles, and you furrow your eyebrows. “But I sort of, oof, this is hard to say. When I married your momma, I knew who she was, what she does, I knew how saving the world was important for her. I knew I could lose her to it, eventually.” Lena breathes deep, wiping her tears. “But you? I can’t fathom the thought that one day I may lose you. I just-I just can’t.”

“Well, I’m not a hero anymore so you don’t have to worry.” You reassure her, but Lena bites her tongue, definitely not reassured.

“I’ll always worry. And you know why?” Lena asks and you shake your head, disagreeing. “Because you are my baby. And even when you’re forty you’ll still be my baby, and I’ll still be terrified just to think about you not being in my life anymore.”

“What if I get married and have kids and move somewhere else?” You ask and Lena smiles at the thought.

“That will happen! And then-” She whispers to you, so Kara can’t hear her. Which is ridiculous because if Kara is listening, she can hear her breath, let alone her words. “I’ll leave Kara in the middle of the night, and go to your house, kick your wife to another bedroom, and snuggle in with you like we’re doing right now.”

You chuckle at the thought. God, you love Lena so much. “You promise?”

“Of course.” Lena kisses your forehead. “We’re stronger together.”

You smile at her words, and close your eyes again, feeling like you can finally fall asleep. But you still hear, somewhere far away, before you sleep completely, Lena’s voice reassuring you. “I love you, babygirl. All of you. Always.”

Notes:

Hope this count as the fluffiest of fluffs @lonelydiary cause I thought they were so sweet here 💙

[nohoney]

Hi hi! I love your Us series so much! It’s been a while since I came across it and I remembered how much I love it! 💕

2 questions I wanna ask about something’s I’m wondering about and your take on them.

Do you think there will come a time where MC comes to their senses and decides to leave? It doesn’t seem realistic for the series because they are so rooted there, I think it would be extremely hard to leave. They don’t treat them bad but they’re also not healthy for them.

What would happen or more like what would Keigo and Touya do if MC ever decides to leave?

Anyway, thank you for updating and taking the time to write. I really appreciate it 💕

Aw I’m glad you love it, it always gets me all flustered when the us series get appreciation 😖

So to answer...

1. the reader definitely has the sense in her that what she’s in is not exactly something completely ‘healthy’ and she knows when she’s in a particular situation it’s because of touya but then Keigo kinda swoops in to cover everything up until everything feels like it’s calmed down. as much as Touya is the source of her love & devotion, he is definitely the main stressor sometimes when she worries more about his reaction to things rather than her own well-being. And touya knows that he can only do so much to make her stay so having Keigo around offsets the chances of her leaving since he’s more sensitive & gentle with the reader. I think the chances of the reader leaving are very very low...

2. But on the off chance she reaches that small fraction where she does try to put her foot down to leave... i think we all know there’d probably be no way for the boys to accept the reader leaving. She hopes it could go down a peaceful way. So maybe... an honest face to face break up?

Scenario below the cut!

Warning: drug use/drugging, unhealthy relationship, codependence, manipulation, slight dubcon

You just have to be uncomfortable just for a moment while Keigo goes to fetch drinks from the kitchen. Touya keeps a straight face while you speak across from at the dining table, trying to reassure him that you don’t want to part on bad terms and that you just need to do what’s best for yourself, you’re talking about wanting to find your independence again and needing to figure things out on your own and all that stupid crap. Words of conviction that neither of them are going to accept from you, that you don’t know what you’re talking about and you need them.

They could tell immediately when you had started to try to pull away, could see that glazed off look in your eye as your mind wanders. Your smiles more reluctant, your affection waning, that sad look you had looking off into the distance, they thought it was depression at first. Keigo counts himself fortunate to have found you sitting with a friend a week ago on the patio dining of a restaurant, hiding himself just in time before you or your companion could see him. He had leaned in a little closer and his heart broke upon hearing you tell your friend, “I think I need to get away from them... Dabi and Keigo.”

Oh how Touya threw a fit when Keigo reported back to him, having the good sense to take him to an abandoned lot to tell him what he heard. Touya yelled, saying that he’s giving you everything he could give and you have the audacity, the motherfuckin’ audacity to think you could leave. His sanity is all on you and you leaving would make him lose his fucking mind. But Keigo was calm, he hushed Touya who damn near breaks down and is about to punch through the window of his car and tells him that he’s got it figured out.

“She’s ours, she just needs to be reminded.”

Your tolerance had gotten better with what you’re willing to take but that doesn’t mean that being careful is thrown out the window.

You’re banned from mixing ever since that first party where you locked yourself in a room with half a gram of coke and an ecstasy tablet, but Keigo is careful with you because he cares about you, he loves you. Just a sprinkle, like a pinch of salt, added to your drink and Keigo gives you a little extra pour of sweet syrup in your drink.

Ketamine which makes you trip and MDMA which makes you roll, and a trip plus a roll makes a flip. Your first flip ever was molly and coke and you don’t even know that you’re about to get your second; you’re about to have your first kitty flip.

Touya could have been mean and just gave you rohypnol but as angry as he was at you for wanting to break up, he still wanted you to feel good.

You finish half the drink when your eyes get the tranced over look and your voice drifts off, Touya reaching for your cup so that you don’t drink anymore. He drinks from his own cup, just the virgin version of what Keigo served you and he asks, “What were you talking about doll?”

“I uh... I don’t know what I...” you sway a little in your seat and you try to recall what was the subject you were speaking of a few minutes ago. “Touya... I don’t...”

They wait patiently as you struggle for your words.

And Keigo knows exactly what to do, gently cupping your cheek to direct you to look at him. You’re a helpless little doe at this moment and out there are the wolves wanting to feast on you, but not them, not Keigo or Touya... they’re not your predators.

They’re your protector.

“Pretty dove, do you love us?” Keigo asks you, watching carefully how you try to process his question.

“C-Course I do... never said tha’ I stopped, I just’ want...” you slur out as you reach one hand out to touch his cheek, trying to make sure he’s real. He wonders what you’re seeing right now and how he looks in your eyes. “Can I lie down?”

You collapse in Keigo’s arms, whining about some dress you should have bought at a boutique you visited not too long ago and then you stare at your own hands when Keigo lays you down on the floor, though you don’t bother to describe what exactly you’re seeing as you stare into your palms.

And Touya kisses you tenderly, just barely skims the tips of his fingers over your arm and you purr in pleasure. Unlike your first hallucinogenic trip which left you in an extremely anxious state, you seem to be perfectly balanced this time. Keigo is grateful that he mixed the right amount and you consumed not too much and not too little. You crawl to different areas of the room, muttering to yourself and can barely keep a conversation with either of the boys while they keep watch. But it’s not necessary for any conversation to be had, there’s no need for any talking because there’s nothing to talk about.

You ask for kisses, you ask to be touched, you ask if you’re loved, all requests that they’re willing to fulfill but on one condition: “You gonna stay with us (Name)?”

“Y-yeah, wanna stay with... be with ya, just c’mere... ‘M lonely.”

“Oh now you’re lonely? What happened to all that independent talk?”

“I don’t... Not s-sure, jus’ come here now.”

Needy little moans fall from your lips as they touch you, kisses to your neck and further down, despite your glazed eyes your fingers reach for one of the boys’ belts but they stop you. “You’re not getting fucked baby.”

“I want it!” You whine, almost ready to throw a tantrum but all it takes is just a hand in your hair, grabbing at the roots and slowly it clenches into a fist and tugs at the roots. A pleasant pull that makes your eyes roll to the back of your head and your back arches. Just a little hair pull and you’re so compliant. Your reaction is tempting but they know better than to fuck you when you won’t remember it the next day.

They would never.

All they want is for you to stay right where you are.

And you wake the next day in between Touya and Keigo, recognizing the symptoms of a come down but with no memory of the day before and you know that your memory loss has something to do with them. “What happened?”

Your body is exhausted, your brain is fried, you remember sitting down with the boys yesterday and talking about breaking up and then... nothing.

When you try to get out the bed, Touya’s hand reaches out to grab your arm and you’re pulled back down on the bed. He’s awake and making you lie back with them, his hand gentle as the pad of his thumb strokes your cheek so lovingly. Keigo nuzzles right next to you, a soft mumble of, “Stay baby bird...”

“You guys... what did you give-” you start to speak but Touya cuts you off.

“If it were anyone else, you probably would have woken up behind a dumpster ya know.”

Be grateful to us, we treat you better than anyone ever could.

You should be angry at them, furious that they’d violate your trust and lace your drink or food with whatever they gave you, that they gave you the ultimate reason to leave because if you love someone you don’t fucking drug them. And yet you know that whatever they gave you yesterday is a warning, probably the kindest warning you’ll ever get from them.

“Still love us?”

You play it over in your mind, that any other person probably would have taken advantage of your vulnerability but not them. Not Touya and Keigo who love you most ardently and have always looked out for you no matter what. There’s no talks of breaking up, there will be no talks of breaking up, they know you’re smart enough to understand the meaning behind their actions.

So you accept the cage they’ve put you in.

“Yeah... I love you.”

“We love you too.”

[thisnoodlewritesao3]

Untitled | Iwaizumi Hajime/Reader

Characters: Iwaizumi Hajime, Reader, Oikawa Tooru

Pairing: Iwaizumi Hajime/Reader

Word Count:  2571

Summary: "At first, he thought you sent him those videos (by mistake) as a prank. And he got annoyed. But as started to text you, he realised how sweet you are, how kind and lovely. And he fell, hard." This was the prompt, tho I didn't follow it completely

A/N: This is very much so self-indulgent, so no judging me. This is based off of a matchup I got from @forgetou that I absolutely adored, and just had to write. Thank you for giving me permission to use it, absolutely angel

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It wasn’t that Iwaizumi had anything against you - he didn’t really have any feelings one way or the other - although if he had to choose, he definitely wouldn’t keep you in his life for long. He didn’t even know much about you other than that you were smart (being in the same class as him told him that), but your personality was a bit… much? Extremely immature? Carefree? Naive? A lot of things. Definitely not his cup of tea - he already had enough trouble coping with Oikawa - but at least him and Oikawa had things in common.

From what he could see, you felt the exact same way, never offering him a second glance when he entered the classroom.

So, why had you sent him a video?

The only reason he had your number to begin with was because of a project you’d been forced to work on last year with him; you hadn’t messaged him since, and neither had he.

He hesitated before opening the video; you were smiling so brightly, awkwardly looking around your room for some sort of escape from whatever you were about to say, “okay, okay, you finally convinced me!” You cheered, squeezing your eyes shut and smiling brighter. “This is for all my lovely friends-” Oh, so it’s just a prank. He huffed at his own thoughts; the idea that you were just pulling a prank on him pissed him off “-since you guys say that my singing makes you happy? I don’t get it… especially since I can’t sing,” you rubbed the back of your neck. “I- I guess I’ll just get this over with.”

You reached over to the side, grabbing a pair of headphones, they were ridiculously too big for your head, but you didn’t seem to care. A large intake of breath before you pushed away from your desk; your hand shook as you turned on the music, it was a split second before you started singing.

You’ve been such a jerk

since you left last week

You were staring at something off camera, eyes dancing over, what he could only assume to be, the lyrics as you sang. He had to admit you were right, you couldn’t hit a single note, making it almost painful just to listen. Then your smile slowly brightened again, shining within your eyes.

You’re careful with your words

but I’m pulling teeth 

you said this wouldn’t hurt

Bobbing your head and swaying, finally letting any anxiety and ease wash over you. Right now he was more concerned that he could hear each lyric blasting through the headphones, like you were trying to drown yourself out - surely you were going to damage your ears.

Give me cavities

And all of your apologies are only empty calories

You smiled brightly, squeezing your eyes shut but facing the camera. You put your hand on your chest; the impact made him wince, but you didn’t falter in your words.

After all this time

I start asking why I’m staying

were you ever mine?

You pointed at the camera, quirking up one brow as if it were an actual question. The more you wriggled and danced the more your hair flew around; such a pure enthusiasm in every movement. There it was. The childish nature he was used to seeing from you. The one that pissed him off so much.

Are we something that’s worth saving?

every conversation puts me back on medication sometimes

sorry’s just another word you’re saying

He must have been going crazy when he saw some actual sadness twinkle into your eyes; he decided that he was just reading far too into it.

Do I look like her

Does she talk like me?

Your brows furrowed together, staring off camera again. As you sang (read: yelled) the lyrics, there was something more to them. Something more fiery. Maybe you just related to the lyrics. He couldn’t know.

Been feeling insecure

Codependency is hard to break

You wrapped your arms around your body, that sadness trickled in again, there was no questioning it this time. Not even a second passed before you smiled brightly again, acting like there was nothing to be seen. Acting like that was all for show.

When you never make it easy

Reconstructive surgery can’t fix my anxiety

You squished your cheeks together, mumbling the words. He watched you intently as you repeated the chorus. Pumping your fist and spinning around lightly in your chair - a strange mixture of emotions erupted on your face when the wire to your headphones wrapped around something out of his vision, forcing them off of your head. The music blasted freely as you broke out into a fit of laughter, snorting and cackling like a hyena.

You turned back towards the camera when you finally stopped laughing, “so that happened, um, thank you for listening! I love you guys so much.” You winked at the camera, lazily blowing a kiss before the video ended.

Iwaizumi was almost in shock - though that was quickly brushed away by the anger from the obvious prank. You couldn’t really think he was that stupid, could you? He pondered the idea of shooting you a text, telling you that this was ridiculously childish behaviour; that was probably exactly what you wanted, so he chose not to give you a reaction at all.

That wasn’t the last time you sent him a video of you singing.

In fact, you sent one every single day for a few weeks. He listened to each one of them - definitely not feeling more positive and self-assured after each one. There was a theme; they were all mostly upbeat, something you could easily jam and bob your head to, something that gave you a lot of energy. Sometimes you were out of breath after it.

Still, after that wave of happiness came the storm of anger because, despite the fact he hadn’t given you a reaction to his prank, you were still trying to prank him.

Yet there was something so endearing as you cheered and smiled - sure, you were childish, but maybe he could see why people liked you after all. Something so pure about your reactions. Something so unfiltered and contagious (he’d never admit it, but he had started making a playlist of the songs you sang).

Eventually, he stopped seeing them as a prank and started looking forward to them. It was weird; he’d be in the middle of studying and suddenly remember that you’d probably send a video soon, his heart would flutter.

Nothing about your in person relationship changed; you rarely looked in his direction, too occupied with your own head space to even realise he was there. He couldn’t help but feel jealous as you laughed with classmates, brushing their arms, patting them on the head, comparing hand sizes - it was strange.

Even Oikawa seemed to notice the way he flickered his eyes over to you, often teasing him - until Iwaizumi smacked him over the head - that was always enough to stop the setter.

Slowly, he realised that maybe you weren’t as childish as he thought. Sure, innocence was a big part of your act, but there was so much more underneath the surface that he hadn’t realised. You took notes like your life depended on it; you’d nibble at your nails when you were deep in thought; sometimes that concentration led to your tongue poking out between your lips, very cat-like. You had horrible balance but a love for climbing things - that was how you’d ended up with a lot of injuries. You weren’t too good at sports, when they’d played volleyball in gym you fumbled through receives, failed at sets, serves were just as worse, not even talking about your spikes - they were laughable. Even when you face-planted roughly, earning worried cries from friends, you still got back up and asked to try again. He was worried, and intrigued, you had a lot of energy and he admired it.

For two months, you sent a video every single day.

Until one day you stopped.

Maybe you finally realised that the prank wasn’t going to work; or maybe it was something else. Any excitement Iwaizumi had felt for them quickly faded.

You seemed to act differently, too, still smiling sweetly to anyone who greeted you, but past that… everything seemed unnatural. He wanted to ask you what was wrong, to figure out what was going on in your mind; one day, he expressed those worries to Oikawa, “I thought you hated her.” The setter hummed running his hand through his hair.

Iwaizumi shrugged, “I- maybe I judged her wrong, I don’t know.” He glanced back over at you, noticing how you absentmindedly traced the back of your hand. “She… when she gets really happy, it’s… cute. And seeing her like this?” He didn’t like how much he cared about her, it was frustrating. It felt like how he felt for Oikawa, but more intense - like he wanted to protect her from something, but he didn’t even know what it was.

He wasn’t paying much attention, not until Oikawa started walking in your direction, looking over his shoulder and tossing the spiker a wink. He listened intently, “hey, L/N, right?” Oikawa mused, looking around nonchalantly.

A wave of indifference flashed over your eyes before you smiled brightly, sitting up straight, “yep. What can I do for you…? Sorry, what’s your name?” Suddenly, everyone gaped at you - Iwaizumi had to physically stop himself from bursting out laughing - it only got harder when Oikawa looked like you had crushed his whole world.

“Y/N! That’s Oikawa Tooru,” your friend called out. You turned to look at her, then back at him, “you know, the volleyball team's captain?” You raised a brow again, still confused. “How have you not heard of him?”

“This school is massive, you can’t expect me to know every student’s name,” you huffed and rolled your eyes, “what can I do for you, Oizawa?”

That was another low blow; you could have heard a pin drop in the silence, people were still staring at you, “...kawa.”

“Hmm?”

“It’s… Oikawa.”

“Okay, but that still doesn’t answer my question,” even though your face was cheery, the indifference had worked its way into your tone.

“My friend, you probably haven’t heard of him,” he turned and looked back at Iwaizumi - the spiker didn’t think he’d ever seen Oikawa so defeated, “that’s-”

“Iwaizumi Hajime?” You locked eyes with the brunette, smiling slightly, “why wouldn’t I have heard of him?”

Your friend smacked your arm, “Y/N!”

“What? He’s literally in my class and I did a project with him last year. I don’t get what the confusion is.” You pointed out, waving an enthusiastic arm at him - you really knew how to crush Oikawa’s ego - the setter almost looked offended, but also relieved.

“He wants to talk to you.” Oikawa sighed, turning away.

“He couldn’t say that himself?” You laughed, standing up and walking with Oikawa over to Iwaizumi. “What is it?” You asked when you reached him, fingers interlocked in front of you.

“Um… Can I- in private?” This was more unusual, the fact he couldn’t find the words to say to you.

The smile reached up into your eyes, not fully taking over, but enough to show your own intrigue. You nodded, letting him lead the way - your friends were gawking at you, but you simply waved them off.

He led you through the maze of halls until he reached the roof - he was right to think it would be quiet this time of day - only one other person sat up here, and even they were on the complete opposite end. When he stopped walking, you chimed, “well, I’m listening.” You looked so expectant, watching with such intensity as he pulled out his phone, getting up your contact.

“Are you okay?” He asked, trying to find the right moment to turn around his phone.

“Yep,” you cheered, “now, did you really bring me up here just to ask that?” You rolled your eyes but the action was counteracted by the playful smile on your lips.

“I just… it’s- you stopped sending videos.” He passed you his phone, giving you a chance to examine his screen. Your eyes opened wide, confusion and shock danced in your expression. “I was just worried, because you always looked so happy during them but-”

“You were worried about me?” Your voice was soft, almost unsure.

“Well, yeah, I mean,” he awkwardly chuckled, “I thought it was a prank at first.”

“Why would I prank you?” You looked up at him quickly.

“When we did our project together, you seemed like you didn’t like me…” he admitted. “And you reminded me of Oikawa, and it sort of pissed me off.”

“You were pissed off at me for acting like Oizawa?”

“Oikawa.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” you waved him off.

“Then you sent me the videos and- I just realised that I was wrong… about you! And I really looked forward to seeing them.” He was uncharacteristically awkward, his heart fluttering slightly when you smiled. Warmth rose to your cheeks, eyes sparkling at the idea of him getting excited to see you sing.

“I… I never actually meant to send them to you, but you never complained, so… I just kept doing it.” You admitted, rubbing the back of your neck nervously, passing him back his phone. “And!” You called out, eyes wide again with an overwhelming passion, “I never hated you, or whatever it was you said. I thought you hated me so I just… I guess… kept away?”

That news hit Iwaizumi like a truck. The reason you avoided him was because you thought he hated you? He certainly never hated you, though he would admit he hadn’t always been the nicest. It all made sense, why you never gave him a second glance, why you didn’t greet him like everyone else. He had never felt more stupid in his life.

“That and I really liked you before so I was super nervous,” you avoided his eyes, a rush of confidence had overtaken you before you could even think about the words.

He blinked at you. Once. Twice. Three times. Mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. “What?” That came out a lot quieter than he wanted, but you heard it nonetheless.

“I liked you.” You nodded, punctuating the sentence with a hefty ‘hmpf’ while crossing your arms under your chest.

Again, shocking news to Iwaizumi. By the time you two did the project together, Oikawa had already had the heart’s of every girl around him stolen. Yet he could never see the way you blushed at him, the second glances you took (though those were all before the project). Damn, you didn’t even know who Oikawa was, not even now when his name was in the mouths of every girl - every girl except you.

“I… I still like you.” You stepped away, running the pads of your fingers over your knuckles.

You could have sworn he short-circuited right there.

It took him a few minutes to get his composure, you just stared at him awkwardly, humming occasionally to try and ease the awkward silence.

“I… like you, too.” He muttered, covering his mouth with his hand. Of course you heard it. That soft smile was enough to make his heart thunder in his chest.

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Y/N eventually asks Iwaizumi on a date to a volleyball game (because even if she knows nothing, she wants to see him happy)

When Iwaizumi gets to take her on a date, it’s obviously to a karaoke place, because despite her inability to hit any notes, he’d do anything to hear her sing again

Y/N still refuses to call Oikawa by his name (Oizawa all the way)

She starts sending him singing videos again, under the pretence that he sends them back

He complies

Oikawa started to send him singing videos, but Iwa just blocked him for a week

Because how dare he

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[ronsenburg]

Hi! I wanted to ask you something about Klapollo. What topic/argument do you think could possibly cause them to break up or take a break from the relationship? I live for the drama and was thinking about maybe writing a fic but like I dont want to make either of them assholes, like Apollo bringing Kristoph up to hurt Klavier, for example. I don't think he would do that but I struggle to come up with something else.

Oh boy, I hope you’re not upset about this, but I wrote you an essay. I’m sorry.

Overall, I really like the klapollo relationship timeline because, compared to, say, narumi/su they have a much more normal, organic story. They meet, flirt, share a mutual trauma, get together! Totally normal! But I also think that they would have a much harder time than narumi/su finding the balance you need in a serious relationship and I can see them calling it quits for perfectly practical reasons that aren’t really anything to do with one being a jerk, you know? Here are my top things that I think they would have to navigate and maybe struggle with before a real happily ever after:

1. Money. You’ve probably seen my post where I talk about Apollo feeling uncomfortable with displays of affluence. I don’t think that this is an easy one to get past. AA6 Spoilers, but Dhurke and Datz literally raised them in hiding on the run in the mountainous jungles of Khura’in. They sent Apollo to the states as a nine year old. We don’t know what he did when he got here, but my money’s always been on the foster system. That doesn’t typically breed a sense of stability, financial or otherwise. 

From my experience (so take it with a grain of salt), children who grow up with very little tend to behave in one of two ways when they reach financial stability and/or achieve wealth: first option, they’re really bad with it. They spend it nearly as fast as they make it on things they didn’t get to have or experience when they were growing up. Second option, they never spend it. They know what it’s like to be without, so they save as much of it as they can so they have the security of knowing, if something happens, they won’t have to go back to the way it was before. I will always put Apollo in the latter category. He works hard for what he has and what he gets and, I think, things that signify extravagance make him uncomfortable. On the other hand, I think that the Gavin’s have always had some sort of wealth. Klavier and Kristoph have very different aesthetics to their spaces that we get to experience (Klavier’s office and Kristoph’s cell) but they’re both pretty lavish. Now, we can assume they each made their money individually in their respective careers but, honestly, Kristoph’s cell is so gaudy. To me, it screams “this is what I’m used to and I refuse to accept any less” which is an attitude that I feel comes more from a lifetime of that treatment. 

So if we accept everything that I’ve said above as true, trying to put a person who saves every penny they get and feels bad treating themselves with a person who spends money freely because it’s been a constant throughout their life? It can go poorly. Casually dating, maybe it’s not such an issue once Apollo says “please no more presents and can we just get takeout for once?” but if you’re talking about something more serious, where you have to live in the same space and pay joint bills and be confronted with the other person’s spending habits constantly, it’s a whole other thing. Please take it from me as a person in a long term relationship who loves their partner tremendously—everyone fights about money. Everyone. It would be very difficult for Apollo to feel comfortable, even if he knew that finances were in good shape and there was savings, etc. Things happen, people leave. Nothing gold can stay. Changing that line of thinking takes work. It would also be easier said than done for Klavier to just do an about face on his own habits for Apollo’s comfort. Being a celebrity makes money, but it costs money, too. There is a certain amount of lushness that people expect. That can’t just go away. These are things that become bigger problems overtime, no matter how much you love each other. 

Anyway, I would be really surprised if—even if you’re writing them as really happily married—Apollo doesn’t have a ‘emergency fund’ that even Klavier doesn’t know about. It’s a ‘just in case’. Just in case Klavier leaves him. Just in case he needs to get away fast. Just in case the world ends. It’s not a logical thing, something that he sat down and rationalized doing, it’s just there because it feels better to have it than to not. But that can be kind of hurtful if the other person finds out about it, so. There you go, a whole minefield of money related drama.

2. Apollo’s Abandonment Issues. He’s got them! What do you call and orphan twice over who also lost his very best friend? I don’t know, but if capcom doesn’t stop picking on my boy I’m going to kick them in the teeth. I will still never get over AA6 for telling us that Dhurke took Apollo in when he was orphaned as a baby, then abandoned him in the USA, then came back for him and got his hopes up, and then was actually dead the whole time! Hahahaha! What a trip! 

Anyway, you don’t come back from that super easy. People who suffer this kind of trauma usually have a really hard time trusting others, which is understandable. They also can have unrealistic needs from their partners, become codependent, or even just self-sabotage their relationships, pulling away first to try and avoid the pain because they think the other person will leave them. I think that last one is most likely for Apollo, especially given the disparity in circumstances I mentioned above. If Apollo can’t trust that Klavier actually loves him, can’t trust that he won’t leave him like EVERYONE ELSE HAS, then they can’t have a healthy relationship. Drama.

3. Klavier’s Emotional Trauma. Kristoph is a pretty big jerk to Klavier in the last case of AA4. He criticizes and undermines Klavier, threatens and admits to manipulating him. In the anthology, Klavier shares an “lol so funny!” story about Kristoph accidentally breaking a window while he and Klavier are playing ball. In it, he convinces Klavier that it was his fault and that he should take the blame and apologize for breaking the window! And Klavier does! That’s gaslighting, baby, and since the Anthology is supposed to be canon, we can take that to mean it’s been happening since Klavier was a kid. Think about that. An entire life of gaslighting and manipulative behavior! You don’t come back from that easily, either. 

People who experience emotional abuse can, among other things, suffer from depression and low-self esteem. They need affirmation from their partners and can have a hard time with letting people in or being honest (though not from a malicious mindset—more a “I’m going to say what I think you want to hear because if you���re happy, bad things won’t happen!”). They can also always be waiting for the other shoe to drop, so to speak. Sure things are good, but when will that end and the bad time start? It’s a self fulfilling prophecy: if all you can do is worry about things going wrong, then you aren’t actually enjoying when things are going right and you will cause the issues you’re so worried about. Drama.

4. Fame. Klavier has been in the spotlight since he was a literal child. If the Gavinners were already hits when Klavier was 17, they likely formed and starred their rise some time before then. A year, maybe two? Klavier spent his formative years in the spotlight. He quite literally doesn’t know any other way. Apollo, on the other hand, has never experienced the kind of scrutiny he’d be subject to when dating someone like Klavier. It can be really stressful and hurtful and just overall not a good time. And I’m not saying that Klavier wouldn’t be sympathetic, but I don’t think he would really understand how difficult it could be to have been thrust into that position out of nowhere, because he’s had years of dealing with it and was in a completely different place in life when it began for him. It’s not unreasonable to think that Apollo might not be able to take it. You can love someone and want to be with them but if you can’t adapt to their lifestyle, it’s not going to work. They could walk away rather than risk what might happen to Apollo if they kept it up. Drama.

5. Careers. They both have very demanding jobs. While sharing a similar profession can mean there’s a mutual understanding, it can also cause issues if you... never get to see each other? Schedules can be out of alignment (which could easily happen; their cases can’t always line up and they seem to require a lot of time investment outside of just normal hours). If Klavier goes back into music, that’s an additional time constraint. Why be in a relationship when you can only see the other person for moments here and there? What about the stress that comes with those jobs? That can cause drama.

6. Klavier looks like Kristoph. They are very different people, yes, but similar enough in some ways that it could cause tension. Maybe Klavier is tired and stressed and snaps at Apollo, and suddenly, all Apollo can see is Kristoph and all he can feel is the uncomfortable churning in his stomach that goes along with the memories of him. Someone he trusted, someone who let him down. That’s a difficult subject to broach, and it can fester like an infected wound if left intended. 

But Apollo sounds like Kristoph sometimes. We saw it in AA5, which is, of course, an extreme circumstance. But it can come out from time to time in other ways. A phrase that slips out, the way he intones certain words, the way he signs off in his emails—little things that are harmless, but can still act as triggers. 

Sometimes you need to get away from things that can remind you of your past in order to work on getting over them. If you are in love with someone who shares a similar trauma, who brings those issues from the past to light frequently just by being themselves, it might not be a healthy situation. I don’t think they would need to throw it in each other’s faces for it to become an issue. Drama.

There are more, but I probably took this more seriously than you intended. Whoops! Anyway, I hope that helps??? Maybe???? I hope you get them back together in the end because they deserve to be happy though!!!!!!!

[forasecondtherewedwon]

In the Arms of the Anus

Fandom: Spider-Man, Thor Pairing: Roger Harrington/Grandmaster Rating: T Word Count: 8883

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, @spiderman-homecomeme!!!

Summary: While people all over the world are finding their soulmates, Roger Harrington can barely find time to grab a sandwich. Clumsy, anxious, and stagnating in a mediocre marriage, it's a miracle that he still believes in love.

Today's the day the universe rewards that belief.

Three things about Roger Harrington: he’d just tripped on the sidewalk, he worried daily that he was developing a bald spot, and, at the age of 36, he felt he still believed in love as strongly as did the little girl in his building who’d made all the residents Valentine’s Day cards the year before.

The cards—which Roger had found endearing while his wife had been baffled to the point of annoyance—had been wedged into everyone’s mailbox sometime on the afternoon of last May 19th, and maybe that was why he thought of them today, exactly a year later.

It was helpful, he found, to consider love in markers of time passing, or just numbers. The anniversary of those Valentine’s cards would always be 271 days early, leap year or not. Roger had been married twice, longer the second time. He had zero children, and that was alright with him because he wasn’t totally sure that he did want kids and, anyway, he was too profoundly stressed about the welfare of the teenagers he taught at Midtown to comfortably imagine himself as a fulltime parent.

His wife was cool. Significantly cooler than he was. She drove out of the city to hike every other weekend (he had never joined her and hoped to never be called upon for woodsy companionship), had once performed an emergency tracheotomy on a friend at a dinner party, and had a tattoo on her hip that predated their relationship, which made it consequently, eternally, enigmatic, no matter how many times she told the objectively trite story of its acquisition. Also, she was a casual shoplifter, which made him very, very nervous in a way that he found difficult to differentiate from how he felt when he was turned on.

He was the kind of person who consistently forgot to take his glasses off before stepping into the shower. She was the kind of person who would run into and recognize a famous race car driver at Whole Foods (that had happened) or fake her own death (that had not happened—knock on wood!). Essentially, what and who his second wife was was the natural successor to his first wife (the reckless young bride to his insomniac young groom), who had in turn been the natural successor to the only other romantic encounter of his life worth mentioning: a kiss on the cheek at a birthday party on the day the Berlin Wall fell. Roger had been seven.

So his romantic history was speckled and, in two out of three cases, spoke a little too loudly of a need for legally-recognized codependence. So he didn’t feel like a man anyone would ever get a tattoo in honour of. So his wife had been a little unkind in the long pause before her negative when he’d asked her if she thought he was getting a bald spot. Roger still felt that love was going to happen for him. Hopefully sustained in his current marriage, but if not, there was always what Julius Dell had taken to (highly unscientifically) calling the Love Wave.

If Roger decided to be really delusional, he could pretend that the Love Wave was to blame for his stumble over uneven concrete on his way to grab lunch. That he was finally feeling its cosmic tug. Not that he would be the last to sense it—the inexplicable force that had lately begun guiding people the world over to their new partners—but every day that he didn’t, he feared his wife would feel it first and go careening out of their life together in a Thelma and Louise-style launch that somehow left her intact and him feeling like he’d plummeted to his death at the bottom of a canyon. Sometimes, when he thought about it, he imagined feeling that impulse to go to this destined soulmate and pictured it leading him home. Not in some metaphorical way, but literally home, to the apartment he shared with his wife, to find her arriving at the same time, the two of them matched up, the universe endorsing their marriage.

The reality was that he was a man with clumsy feet (and knees and elbows) who’d forgotten to pack himself a lunch and had just enough self-awareness (though probably not dignity) not to believe that eating in the cafeteria with his students was something he would be able to socially recover from.

He thought about a poorly-cut-out pink heart glued to a fold of red craft paper. He went to buy a sandwich.

At the deli, Roger waited in line and didn’t so much allow his mind to wander—like a dog off-leash in a dog park—as feel his mind jerk insistently away—like a dog on-leash, trying to snap a dropped slice of pizza off the sidewalk. He was violently not present as his thoughts migrated from Valentine’s Day cards to lesson plans to the anxiety he always felt over the fact of never seeming to have enough power to go with the tremendous sense of responsibility he felt for all situations in which he was even remotely involved. He would have, should have, continued to shuffle vacantly forward in line, except that the man ahead of him grumbled something that drew his focus.

What he grumbled was: “Even the Sorcerer Supreme should be able to spare a minute to decide what kind of sandwich he wants.”

Now, Roger Harrington was a man of science, but he was also a man who had previously enjoyed a close friendship with the Hulk (and if anyone challenged him on specific parameters within that assertion, Roger knew that he would cry). Aliens swarmed the sky like clouds of bees. There were compilation videos of Spider-Man nearly getting hit by city buses that could’ve been designed expressly to see how hard Roger could flinch. For a clumsy man with the unathletic, knock-kneed gait of Pippi Longstocking, Roger did his best to roll with the supernatural punches. Hey, this was how science worked too: just because there wasn’t a precedent yet didn’t mean there never would be. Just because he couldn’t explain something didn’t mean no one could. Sorcerers? Alright. There could be sorcerers.

“Sorcerers?” Roger blurted to the man, overeager to expel the word.

All other words had fled to the back of his mind, twitching in an agitated cluster, leaving just the one to be snatched frantically from the surface. Like fishing. (Roger had never been fishing. One of his greatest fears was having a live fish somehow jump into his shoe and stepping on it by accident.)

“Uhhh,” the man droned. He looked uneasy. If Roger knew how to make his eyes a little less wide in situations like these, he would’ve done it.

“No, yeah, sorcerers, sure,” Roger swiftly backpedaled. “I’m a teacher.”

As if being a teacher equaled knowledge of sorcerers. As if that were a normal unit of the high school curriculum. Roger’s understanding of sorcerers began and ended with Mickey Mouse in a blue wizard’s hat. He wondered if that was sort of the standard look.

The man did not appear reassured. Roger thrust his hand forward.

“Roger Harrington, Midtown Tech.”

Face still wary, his deli companion shook hands.

“Wong.”

“So, this sorcerer of yours didn’t pick a sandwich?” The line shuffled forward and, now in reach of the long glass case of food, Roger attempted to lean his elbow casually against it, misjudged the distance, and jerked back upright again before he could fall over.

“No… You heard that part too?”

“If I could hear the part about the sorcerer, why wouldn’t I be able to hear the rest?”

“I think most people would’ve been so fixated on the sorcerer thing that they wouldn’t really absorb the part about the sandwich.”

“Just got sandwiches on the brain, I guess,” Roger said.

God, if Wong knew a sorcerer, odds were that he was a sorcerer too. (Roger based this on being a teacher with almost exclusively teacher friends and acquaintances.) He was making it sound like he cared more about sandwiches, he knew he was. He stared silently at Wong for a few painful seconds and wondered if the man could tell that he had worked for a sandwich shop as a teenager—the role of wearing a full-body sandwich costume and standing on the sidewalk, trying to attract people into the shop.

But Wong surprised him by nodding.

“You could get one of everything,” Roger heard himself suggest.

He was not typically one to make suggestions, but rather one to panic when other people did and he was in the position of having to choose between them. He could never decide on a restaurant for he and his wife’s now few-and-far-between date nights, or provide straightforward feedback when she asked for his opinion on her clothing choices… which movie they should see… what they should buy for her friend’s sister’s housewarming gift...

Oh god, she was probably going to fake her own death and his biggest anxiety was knowing that someone would ask him to choose the casket!

“I have like…” Wong jingled his pockets and extracted a fistful of coins that, when he opened his hand, Roger saw belonged to several different currencies. “…six bucks.”

Like a mirror with a delay, Roger patted his own pockets to locate his wallet. He flipped it open to reveal something promising and terrifying: he’d forgotten to return the school credit card after the last field trip he’d chaperoned. He shouldn’t, but… sorcerer.

“I think this’ll cover it,” Roger said. “It’s for emergency expenses.”

“Like lunch?” Wong asked doubtfully.

“I could be very hungry.”

“They sell seventeen different types of sandwiches here.”

“I could be very, very hungry.”

Wong shrugged in evident acquiescence and Roger marvelled that it was so simple for him to accept this act of generosity. Roger couldn’t recall the last time someone had been as generous towards him. Wait, yes he could. The Valentine’s Day card. Well, handing over a credit card that wasn’t technically his didn’t exactly equate to presenting his ticket at the Love Wave gates (not that there were such things—not that he’d know), but he was hoping to trade this generosity up for a different magical experience in the near future.

When they reached the front of the line for service, Roger ordered a total of eighteen sandwiches. (And received an undisguised groan of complaint from the people still in line behind himself and Wong.) While they waited, Roger buzzed like the posterchild for over-caffeination, doing his best not to let his excitement translate into erratic movements.

Of course, once the sandwiches were presented and paid for, it only made sense for Roger to help Wong carry them all. His own ham-and-Swiss was stuffed into one of the three bags and they were all bulging, threatening to spill. If one of them ripped on Wong’s journey back to wherever he had to take them, who would be there to gather the sandwiches into their arms so that Wong wouldn’t have to leave them on the ground? Roger was clearly the best (only) person for the job.

And if they talked on the way? That would be natural. If Wong stared at him with abrupt, unyielding suspicion the instant Roger attempted to negotiate a visit with this ‘Sorcerer Supreme’ in exchange for buying his lunch? Yeah. Yeah that suspicion would be fair.

“Not for my sake!” Roger defended as Wong blinked back at him. “For the kids!”

“The Sorcerer Supreme isn’t a birthday party magician.”

“No, I would never imply that! These are bright kids. They’d be there to learn, respectfully. They’ve had their own traumatic encounter with Spider-Man already so there wouldn’t be any clambering to meet another person with superhuman powers!”

“What did Spider-Man do to traumatize them?”

Wong looked interested now, in an entertained sort of way. Meanwhile, Roger was having a flashback of his life flashing before his eyes inside the Washington Monument.

“Actually, he saved us,” Roger explained. “That’s not the point. It would be purely educational. You and the Sorcerer Supreme would call the shots. As long as it wasn’t anything dangerous.”

“Dangerous? We would never put children at risk!”

Roger was about to clarify that he hadn’t meant to imply that they would when he realized Wong seemed to be taking this as a reason to prove himself, or to make the other sorcerer prove what he’d just said.

“I would hope not,” Roger said carefully, “because not all of the children I’ve taken on field trips have come back alive and that haunts me.”

“Well, what haunts me is everything I’ve seen and learned from in order to become someone who could now guarantee a safe field trip environment.”

“Well, that would be great.”

“Well, good,” Wong concluded.

Roger looked down at the bag he was holding as he dug out his sandwich. His wrist twisted and he caught the time on his watch. Oh wow, oh no, his lunch break was almost over.

“Ok, deal,” he said quickly. “We’ll come by next Tuesday!”

“I’ll be out here to let you in!” Wong agreed with a parting wave.

Roger took off running in the direction of Midtown and when that got too awful, he wheezed like an asthmatic and waited at the closest bus stop.

—

Roger had expected Principal Morita to say there was no room in their budget for this trip. That they were nearing the end of the school year, that parents and guardians would be reluctant to sign another form for an excursion that Roger could only give a vague, stammering explanation of. At the very least, he’d anticipated the journey via school bus in lurching, stop-and-start traffic to take so long that the kids would revolt; Flash Thompson would lead the complaints that they could’ve walked to their destination faster than the ride took and Roger would feel the primal horror of a confrontation with a self-possessed teenager who wielded the kind of peer influence Roger could only have dreamed of when he’d been Flash’s age.

But no.

Highly improbably (Roger didn’t like to consider it miraculous), things went smoothly. The trip cleared the budget assessment on zero notice because, besides renting the single bus to transport the students, their outing didn’t actually have any costs. Permission slips came back signed. Traffic was light. And dear, dear Flash—who usually gave Roger so much anxiety—slapped the hand Roger raised to shield his eyes from the sun as his students disembarked from the bus, rewarding him with a surprise high-five for getting them out of the classroom on a Tuesday afternoon. It almost knocked Roger’s glasses off.

They were ushered inside by Wong, who was now laying the mystical solemnity on pretty thick. He certainly wasn’t talking about sandwiches or complaining about the Supreme Sorcerer under his breath.

Before Roger could feel too good about himself though, he realized he’d had time to run through his headcount of the students three times without interruption. Normally, something would happen partway through his first count and he’d be uneasy for the rest of the day, sure that one of the kids had fallen down a manhole or been stampeded by a dog-walker’s unruly canine swarm. The universe shoved teenagers into the path of bike couriers with one hand and paired up soulmates with the other. That was just how things went! However, inside this house (or, no, Sanctum, Wong had called it), the air was still and quiet.

“Do you think he’s gonna make himself appear out of thin air?” Roger heard Ned ask at a whisper. “Or out of a wardrobe, or a trapdoor, or one of those boxes people get in to get sawed in half?”

“Those are cheap tricks,” Wong said loudly. He stared unsympathetically at Roger’s motley group, hand closed around his opposite wrist to maintain a serious pose. “The man you’ll be meeting shortly has capabilities that far outstrip those of the kind of magician-for-hire you’d find in a phonebook.”

From behind him, Roger heard Peter ask Ned what a phonebook was.

“What kind of capabilities then?” Flash demanded.

Roger sighed and was turning to reprimand his student when Wong said, “Like this!”

The man faked a sneeze of horrific volume and range, doubling over and cupping his hand around his mouth and nose. When he straightened up and presented his open palm, there was a raspberry sitting in it.

Roger closed his eyes for a moment to collect himself and his teaching career played on a fast-forwarded film reel behind his lids. The Sorcerer Supreme was a no-show; all Roger had accomplished was taking the kids to a weird building to witness a man pretend to sneeze out a raspberry. Midtown Tech was going to fire him. His wife would recognize his unemployment as a reason to leave him. Depressingly, Roger was thinking about how that would almost be a relief—an end to his incessant worrying that they were really kind of a mismatch—and he was thinking it while he blankly watched Wong eat the raspberry he’d just feigned dislodging from his nasal cavity.

He was really unprepared for a different man to come sweeping down the stairs, motion with his hand, and have a red sheet come whizzing down after him to settle itself on his shoulders. Roger blinked. He heard the mixed noises of fright and appreciation from his students.

Then Flash piped up with, “That’s just a trick. It’s wires or something.”

Roger backed into the cluster of his charges and, without taking his eyes off the obvious Magical Guy in front of him, reached over and placed his hand across Flash’s mouth.

Unfortunately, his censorship seemed to be too late. The Sorcerer’s narrowed eyes zoned in on Flash.

“Oh yeah? How ’bout this? Is this just a trick?”

Fingers splayed, the man moved his hands in a precise, practiced way and a window opened up in the middle of the room. No, not a window, but Roger was having a tough time wrapping his head around it. What this non-window showed was something that wasn’t the room, that wasn’t a view of the street, that wasn’t anyplace in New York, if he had to guess.

“You can’t just do it like that,” Wong said wearily. Roger felt himself and his students look from one of the men to the other as though watching a tennis match. “There should be a little more finesse.”

“Look,” the Sorcerer told him. “You don’t get to spring this on me and then expect me to ham it up for the kids. This isn’t a David Blaine show.”

“Maybe you should watch one. You might learn something about showmanship.”

“So, it’s fake, right?” Flash checked.

Dammit, Roger had dropped his hand, distracted as he tried to make out what he was seeing through what he was becoming increasingly comfortable with calling a ‘magic portal’ in his thoughts. He scrambled to take hold of Flash’s shoulder—yanking him back would be bad, but dealing with the fallout of him pissing off somebody who could make magic portals would be much worse—but Flash dodged him, swaggering forward to inspect the Sorcerer’s work.

“What is it? Mirrors? Greenscreen? You buy your tech from Stark?”

“Stark?” the Sorcerer spat out derisively.

Overcome with the terrible feeling that he was about to find out what it looked like when a wizard put a curse on a child, Roger sprang forward. As he did, three things happened: the Sorcerer rotated his wrist slightly, the scene on the other side of the portal changed, and Flash turned to the side.

Without a student to grab onto and pull to safety, Roger’s momentum sent him hurtling through the gateway currently connecting Midtown to parts unknown.

Of all the times to trip, he thought.

—

The world was bright and fast and bad. Actually, Roger was almost positive that what he was seeing wasn’t the world at all, but he couldn’t put a name to where he was any more than he could think of better adjectives to describe it. Unless the Sorcerer Supreme owned a magical slip ’n’ slide that operated at speeds designed to train prospective astronauts for space travel, Roger was no longer in his building.

The colour of the tunnel of light surrounding him turned from something like the intestinal track of a unicorn who ate lightning and nebulas to a dangerous, broiling red. Roger kept waiting for his skin to bubble, his face to melt off. Maybe he was the fabled frog in the pot of boiling water and had failed to notice the heat steadily increasing. Because he didn’t feel hot. He couldn’t tell whether or not he felt cold either and before he could work it out, he finally landed.

It was rough.

He curled his arms up around his head, protecting his face. He hit and tumbled, hit and tumbled, banging his shins and elbows, setting off a series of metallic clangs and thwumps like his body was playing drums made of the contents of somebody’s recycling bin. Roger could see—once, shaking, he was able to lower his arms and open his eyes—that his imagination hadn’t been far from the mark: he was lying in a heap of trash.

Trembling like a baby deer, he got to his feet and assessed his surroundings. There were piles everywhere. Piles of stuff. Roger could identify some of the battered objects, but most were utterly alien to him. This was like the time he’d found his wife’s sex toys all over again.

“Hello?” he called out, because he seemed to be alone. “Hel—”

His throat closed off abruptly when he swiveled in place and noticed the sky. His mouth fell open. Was that what he had just come through? That furious-looking, billowing, volcanic, enormous… disturbance? Weather pattern? Entrance to hell, if hell were a mountain of trash?

Oh man. Where was Spider-Man this time? Roger didn’t know which would come first, but if something distinctly reassuring didn’t happen in the next 30 seconds, he was going to either burst into tears or pee his pants. His cool wife was going to be so bummed to have to declare him dead instead of faking her own death. And his students would be traumatized, having just witnessed their teacher disappear before their eyes. He spent a frantic 17 of his 30 seconds wondering if this were Jumanji and he’d started a game without realizing it; being sucked into a board game was another of his greatest fears, ever since he’d watched the chilling horror film Jumanji in his teens.

“Hello?” Roger croaked a final time.

Some other scientist—a Tony Stark type—would thrive in this scenario, Roger knew. They would scavenge the surrounding mounds of metal, collecting and assembling pieces into some sort of technology that would either get them home or enable communication with a rescue team. Would there be a rescue team for Roger Harrington? Would anyone even try to get him back?

The cry/pee conundrum was looking more like cry with each passing second until suddenly, amongst the broken things Roger was aggrieved to consider the lone sentinels of his demise, some kind of spacecraft touched down. Based on his recent luck, whoever was at the helm was likely here to kill him, but he immediately elected to throw himself on their mercy, whether that meant rescue or just a swifter snuffing out of his life than he would otherwise experience on this sad island of garbage as he died from dehydration, starvation, and exposure to that infernal gateway in the sky.

He mouthed the word “help” more than said it as he staggered forward on legs he could hardly feel. A door in the side of the spacecraft slid smoothly open and party music blared out. Roger flinched back as though he had not heard the sounds of civilization in years.

A woman exited the craft. She wore an expression about as kind as the murderous upside-down mushroom cloud in the sky and when their eyes met, she barked, “Back!”

Roger executed an awkward reverse lunge, pleading hands raised. Ok, now that his time had come, he didn’t want a quick death. Put out of his misery? No, he would learn to live with his misery, the way he’d learned to live with his college roommates, or his wife’s collection of handmade bowls! With food and water to sustain him, he was suddenly confident that he could be successfully miserable for years if this intimidating woman would just leave him to his own pathetic devices.

But then, like a visitation from a tan, eye-liner-wearing angel of indeterminate age, a man in gold robes emerged from the vessel. He beamed like he had always been beaming, and always would be.

Just like that, Roger Harrington got it. He got what Hot Chocolate meant when they sang that they believed in miracles. He got the meaning of Kylie Jenner’s year of realizing stuff. He got why a child would send out Valentine’s Day cards in May and why his wife was so dedicated to her hiking group and why he was here.

“Now, what did I say about that before we left?” the angel seemed to be asking his companion, though he’d locked his eyes on Roger. “Did I say to harass our visitor or did I say to be nice?”

The woman narrowed her eyes at Roger, which he felt more than saw; it was possible that he was crying after all. Tears of joy.

“Harass,” she answered flatly.

The angel chuckled.

“You know, I do like having you around. Before you, I said to myself, ‘Next time, get an enforcer with a sense of humour.’” He sighed as his laughter dwindled. “But you can, uh, skedaddle back onto the ship now. That’ll be all.”

“What if you want to melt him?” she queried.

That was enough to tear Roger’s gaze away from the man and send it zipping nervously to the threatening almost-smile the woman was now directing his way. He’d preferred the murder face.

“Melt him!” the angel said, in a tone that implied her suggestion had been ridiculous. (Roger relaxed. A little.) “Topaz, don’t you realize who this is? Don’t you know?”

She shrugged.

“Trash.”

“No, he’s not trash! Do you think I would’ve left the Grand Arena to retrieve a new gladiator by hand? All those Scrappers don’t do my bidding just so I can dig through the garbage looking for fresh challengers for my champion! I wouldn’t even assign Scrapper 142 this task, and you know she’s my favourite!”

When the woman only grumbled, the man pressed, “You have an unbelievable poker face. Do you really not know why I flew all the way out here for this guy?”

“I’m his soulmate,” Roger blurted, because that was the one thing he did know.

He had no idea what a Scrapper was, or whether the man in front of him was more or less important than the ‘champion’ he’d mentioned, or how his homicidal sidekick planned to melt Roger, but he understood what was happening here. Forget the Love Wave—what had come for him had yanked him violently across solar systems, maybe galaxies. He’d been sucked under by the Love Riptide.

The angel pointed at him and proudly proclaimed, “Correctamundo!”

Then he strode forward and folded Roger into a hug. Roger thought this must be what it was like to be a piece of antique furniture, tenderly wrapped in gold leaf.

“I’m the Grandmaster,” he said.

“Roger Harrington,” Roger offered, feeling that his life was entirely surreal as he cautiously returned the hug.

“As soon as I felt you land on my humble little planet here, I came looking. My orgy guests were disappointed, naturally, but I had to put my interests first. What was I, elected? If they wanted a leader who would pretend to care about everyone equally, they should have organized themselves into a viable political party capable of rivalling my dictatorship, am I right?” He drew back slightly and laughed. “You should see your face! I’m kidding. I would’ve had anyone involved in such a thing put to death. Don’t you worry, Hairball.”

Roger cleared his throat. He’d learned so much in the last few sentences alone. Death. Dictator. Orgy. Any one of those things was a lot to confront and yet… he was calmed by the Grandmaster’s presence. He was alive and unmelted. He’d managed to find his soulmate—a man he’d been almost certain to never meet as things stood with Earth’s individually-impressive but cosmically-insignificant progress with space travel. At long last, the universe had smiled on Roger Harrington.

“Just Roger is good,” he said. If last names ever came up again, he would tactfully correct his soulmate, but with a name like ‘the Grandmaster,’ he doubted they ever would.

“Roger. Anything you say.” Gripping Roger’s shoulders, the Grandmaster leaned in and planted a sound kiss on his forehead with a loud, “Mmmwah!”

He asked Roger if he would like to go aboard his ship, apologizing that it wasn’t the one where he’d just been having the orgy and appearing to check Roger’s face for disappointment. Roger didn’t know what the Grandmaster saw in his expression, but he knew it wasn’t that.

Inside the spaceship, Roger looked around with huge eyes. He hadn’t felt this kind of wonder in a room jammed with so much beyond his understanding since the first time his mom had taken him to the New York Hall of Science as a kid. Everything was bright and white and immaculately clean, and Roger could concentrate on all of it because the Grandmaster had Topaz drop the volume of his party playlist until it was just a low pulse of background noise. Seemingly amused by his awe, the Grandmaster allowed him a peek at the controls before gently herding him into a chamber with seating arranged for socializing. A pneumatic hiss sealed them safely inside and away from the woman’s scowl.

“I really just wanna sit here and, uh, just look atcha, but that look on your face tells me you’ve got about a million questions.”

The Grandmaster settled back into the bench seating, resting his long arms along the top of the seat. Across from him, Roger fidgeted, experiencing sensory overload. Soulmate. Spaceship. Alien planet. He found it hard to decide what to ask first. Was that even polite? Was the Grandmaster just saying that Roger could ask questions when he really wanted Roger to say or do something else? There was an awfully flirtatious look in his eye, the likes of which Roger hadn’t seen directed towards himself in several years.

“What is this place?” Roger asked before he could stop himself. “Where am I?”

“Oh! This is Sakaar! Are you saying you didn’t come here on purpose? I figured you weren’t aiming for a pile of trash, but you really didn’t know where you were going at all?”

Roger shook his head so hard that he had to nudge his slipping glasses back up his nose.

“It was an accident. I fell through a wizard’s—uh, I mean, a sorcerer’s—magic portal. That kind of clumsiness must sound pretty farfetched to someone who’s so obviously…” Roger motioned spastically towards his soulmate, the dictator, with both hands. “…in control of their life.”

The Grandmaster laughed, transparently pleased and preening.

“Oh, Roger, you flatter me.”

He stretched out his leg to playfully tap his shoe (gold) against Roger’s (plain, brown, frayed shoelace). Roger jumped, giddy from an alteration in sea level, possibly, plus life-changing events.

“But it really isn’t so uncommon for people, beings, things… to end up here without meaning to,” the Grandmaster went on. “A lot of junk passes through the Anus. Not that you’re junk, obviously.”

With a winning smile, Roger’s soulmate leaned forward and patted him on the knee. He was a touchy-feely guy, it seemed, and it made Roger cognizant of how very lonely he’d been in his marriage, in the last year especially. How skittish around strangers, how unaffectionate with his friends. This was what he needed, and the universe had understood that.

It took his brain a few seconds to catch up with what his soulmate had said, distracted by the comfort he was taking in his easy warmth.

“The Anus?” Roger asked in a choked voice.

“The Devil’s Anus, to be exact. That enormous, horrifying wormhole out there in the sky!” the Grandmaster explained, gleeful. “Best I can guess, it acts as a funnel for accidental travelers, like yourself. And boy, are we ever grateful for that thing. I’ve never had to post any ‘Help Wanted’ flyers, I’ll tell ya that. We need more people serving drinks? Boom. More entertainers? Boom. More lubricators for the orgies? Boom, the Anus provides, baby.”

Roger didn’t inquire what the duties of a person with the job title ‘orgy lubricator’ entailed; it seemed sleazily self-explanatory. He just nodded.

“And now,” his perfect, golden match continued, “the portal brings me my soulmate. I love that thing. It’s really somethin’, huh?”

“It’s really something,” Roger agreed. “Really, really something.”

“You’re looking just a little stunned there, Rodge. Can I offer you something to eat? A drink? I promise, I’m usually a much better host. I feel like I’m positively, uh, bumbling right now.” He beamed.

This man was so many things at once—possibly too many—but bumbling was so far from being one of them that Roger actually laughed weaky in his state of happy, semi-delirium. He accepted the cold glass that was pressed into his hand, the brush of the Grandmaster’s warm palm across his forehead. He had moved to sit right next to Roger.

“You can get used to this place at your own pace, within reason.” His soulmate chuckled. “Heck, we can stay right here a day or two. My plans are cancelled, and when I stop, the world stops. That’s how it is, being the Grandmaster, and that’s how it’s gonna be for you too. You can give all your worries a big, wet kiss goodbye, my love. You’re living a life of luxury now. A court of sycophants, fights to the death in the evening, orgies on a lazy afternoon. I’m talkin’ a life of pure class—”

“Class!”

“Yeah, baby, that’s what I said.” The Grandmaster was wearing a languid smile as he traced the back of his fingers along Roger’s jaw.

But Roger was suddenly too alert to be lulled by welcome caresses and delicious, exotic beverages.

“I was teaching a class before I fell through the portal,” he said. “I’m a teacher. My students are probably terrified. Some of them might be messed up for life after watching me disappear right in front of them. What have I done…”

“So you gave them a cool story to tell their friends! You don’t need to think about that anymore. Now that you’re living here—”

“I can’t live here!” Roger said, seizing the Grandmaster’s hands in his as he tried desperately to explain. “I have responsibilities as an educator! Jesus Christ, I’m married!”

“Roger. Rodge. Rodge. Hey,” his soulmate said, finally disrupting Roger’s spiral of panic. “That’s all in the past. Do you know how many creatures from just, uh, every darn corner of the universe I’ve made slaughter each other for my entertainment? Thousands, Roger, ok? Thousands. And it’s taught me oodles about life. What I’ve learned is that love is the only thing that matters. What all of those poor bastards scream for in the end is their mom, their partner, their best friend. Now, that doesn’t help them, but it helps us. It helps us understand that we’ve done it—we’ve achieved the one thing in our lives that was worth a damn to achieve. I’m not gonna, gonna now be parted from you, sweetheart. You are the point of me.”

Roger felt himself growing teary at the speech. Yes, this had been a whirlwind—they’d met no more than 15 minutes ago—but he was feeling something just as deep as the love the Grandmaster described. It was a fantasy in the best way, the life his soulmate pictured for them (most of it… maybe not the part about slaughter). But it was a fantasy in the worst way too, something so impossible that Roger felt sick for getting as attached to this man as he already had.

“I can’t,” he said softly. He let his head hang down, solaced when the Grandmaster guided it onto his shoulder and wrapped a protective arm around him.

“Can’t you? For me? Roger, if I put you on a ship and send you back through the Anus, we may never meet again.”

Roger squeezed his eyes shut. He wanted to be selfish, but there were people he couldn’t leave in the lurch. People who maybe didn’t care about him in a way that was equal to how he cared about them, but that was how any kind of relationship was, apart from soulmates. There were imbalances. He knew he might not be the most brilliant scientist, the most inspirational teacher, the husband a woman would prefer over the outdoorsy hunk in her hiking group, but he knew who he was: he was someone who couldn’t just walk away.

“We’ll be together again,” Roger said, clutching the Grandmaster’s robes. “After.”

Though he didn’t yet know what ‘after’ would mean.

—

It wasn’t as unexpected as it could have been—Roger had always had a feeling he’d die on a school bus.

The difference between his fears and reality was that he wasn’t departing this world in a fiery crash or zooming out of control between the steel trusses and into the East River. There was confusion, there was chaos, there were screams and the violent honking of horns, but there were elements he couldn’t have predicted. Primarily, the giant alien spacecraft hovering over the city. The ship immediately moved into first place of the most ominous rings in his life (he and his wife were not in a good place). Since its sighting, things had quickly spiraled out of control. Julius had radioed Roger from the other bus of students they were chaperoning to MoMA to report that Ned Leeds had ‘flipped his shit’ and Peter Parker was currently missing. Roger had nearly passed out. The only thing that had kept him conscious was his jittery concern for the rest of his students.

At Midtown Tech, they had drills for almost every eventuality. As of 2012, hostile outer space invasion was actually part of their repertoire, but it had always been assumed they would be at school when it happened, not out on a field trip. The most Roger had been able to think to do was get the kids to a secure location. Which meant getting the buses to a secure location. But the buses were on the bridge, and all over the bridge drivers were panicking, mindlessly stomping on the gas and attempting to swerve around the rest of the vehicles. Above the blood rushing in his ears, he’d heard crash after crash, until their bus was hemmed in and, through the smoking, crumpled hoods of their fellow commuters, the alien ship hung stationary in the sky. Disturbingly tranquil as New York City went to pieces to the tune of apocalyptic dissonance just below.

In the end, the spaceship hadn’t stayed put, but Roger had. The lanes around them were crowded with smashed cars. Glass from shattered windshields glittered on the pavement. Still, more vehicles surged forward as drivers attempted to use the bridge to flee the city; this wasn’t NYC’s first alien rodeo. He hadn’t attempted to force any of his students to remain on the bus—they were some of the smartest and the best of their generation, and he trusted their survival instincts far more than his own—but he did direct the ones who fled to first climb up onto the roof of the bus instead of dropping directly down onto the street and risking injury. Yes, he worried about minor cuts and bruises. Even now.

He thought that Flash was staying with him, and was touched. But then he realized Flash was just gripping his shoulder for leverage as he jumped and grabbed for the emergency roof hatch with his free hand. Roger knew the boy was somewhat neglected by his parents, and so, for the first time, he was happy go hear ‘Hotline Bling.’ It was Flash’s ringtone and it played incessantly as his phone rang and rang until the song, and the sound of Flash running, faded into the distance. Somebody wanted to see that he was safe. Somebody cared about him.

Alone, Roger hunkered down between the seats, knees bent in front of him. He scraped one hand anxiously through his hair and gripped his phone in the other.

He should call his wife. He knew he should. Only, he was afraid that she either wouldn’t pick up or she’d answer and be with the guy from her hiking group. Roger wasn’t even upset; he was glad she had someone, if this was it.

Ever since he’d returned from Sakaar, he’d been different, he was aware that he had. In the past, his wife had been largely responsible for the sundering of their marriage, but Roger knew that he was now pulling away too. It had begun inside him—the tear. He wanted to be with two people for two different reasons. In two places, on two worlds. Commitment clashed with longing. Logical rightness fought emotional rightness. He’d been weak, persuading himself daily to tough it out with his wife (even as he slept on the couch every night because lying beside her made him unhappy), when, for once in his damn life, he wanted to be fulfilled. Somewhere out in the stars, there was a man with blue eyeliner and an entire planet at his capricious command and he was the person for Roger.

If only, he thought, picturing the face he shouldn’t have been able to recall so clearly for the brevity of their encounter months ago. Roger shut his eyes to better remember the Grandmaster, and so he wouldn’t have to see his phone clatter to the bus’s dirty floor when the hand that held it turned to dust.

—

As with his life on regular, non-apocalypse days, not much happened to Roger. Despite his paralyzing breakdown on a school bus, he wasn’t among the billions scattered to the wind like sentient dandruff. He picked himself up and went home. Sure, he was shivering almost out of his skin from the shock, but he didn’t collapse into wracking, snotty sobs until he was safely in his living room, listening to his neighbours’ wails through the condo’s walls.

Roger’s wife wasn’t there, didn’t answer when he called her, and, three weeks later, still hadn’t made contact. It took another two months to hold her wake; the funeral business was booming. Never had so many words been spoken over so many vacant graves. Some members of his wife’s hiking group attended, some had even helped him select the right music and flowers beforehand. They knew her preferences. It felt surreal to be burying a person he couldn’t prove—in any meaningful way—that he’d really known.

With a queasy sense of being very lucky, he accepted that, apart from his marital status, his life hadn’t been upended. His windows weren’t broken, his car wasn’t stolen, the few family members he was out of touch with anyway had also survived. He went back to work before anybody called him in. There weren’t any students at first, just the echo of Roger’s clumsy footsteps tripping over the rug in the staffroom, half-solved equations on the whiteboards in the math classrooms, and the unholy stench of unwashed pinnies when he poked his head into the gym storage room to see if Coach Wilson was around. One day, Roger tipped back in the chair at the front of his own empty classroom and spotted a gigantic cobweb in the corner of the ceiling. It made him think of Spider-Man. He guessed that guy was gone too.

The most important thing for keeping sane was establishing a regimen. Work was a big part of that, but Roger also traveled daily into Manhattan to visit the Sorcerer’s place. It became a kind of pilgrimage. Early on, Wong would come out to say hello, but it was eventually less about commiseration and more of a perfunctory thing. Roger knew (assumed, hoped) that if the Sorcerer ever did return, Wong would let him know and welcome him inside. And then… a portal? And then the Grandmaster? He tried not to think about it too hard. Yearning took up a lot of energy and, when his students began to come back to school in distressingly low numbers, Roger needed to reserve that energy for teaching.

Everything was the same, every day, until it wasn’t.

For a reason he couldn’t rationally explain, Roger knocked on the Sorcerer’s door. While he was waiting—just a few seconds, he planned—a man materialized on the sidewalk right next to him. He tottered and Roger reflexively said, “Whoa!” and grabbed his shoulder to keep him on his feet. Before Roger could hypothesize or ask the man any questions, a teenage girl returned to existence a few feet away. Then a woman holding a toddler tightly in her arms. A little boy. A man with a dog. A bicycle-less bike cop, still wearing his helmet. Releasing the man, Roger spun and pounded against the door with his fist.

Still, no one answered.

Fighting the urge to show up at Midtown Tech, Roger made himself stay put, right there on the Sorcerer’s doorstep.

He waited a long time. As the sun set, New York City rose around him. He watched people hugging, running home down the middle of the street. He fielded unfinished questions as the newly returned began to ask him what had happened, what time it was, what year, before jogging away, more purposeful with every step they took. Roger’s foot began to bounce on the sidewalk and his clammy hands twisted fretfully. It was still another 12 hours before the door opened.

Roger fell backwards into Wong’s shins, delirious from the sickening seesaw between urgency and exhaustion. Everywhere, people were reconnecting. He scrambled to his feet because he wanted to be one of them.

“Is he here?” Roger demanded.

Wong narrowed his eyes slightly, holding the door so it couldn’t be pushed open further.

“Might I remind you that it’s me you’ve been seeing here the last five years.”

“Yeah,” Roger agreed, trying to see past.

“I thought we had developed a rapport.”

Finally, Roger met Wong’s eyes, his own pleading.

“No, yes, you’re right, we have,” he babbled.

“We’re friends.”

“Yes, of course, we are friends. Definitely.”

“So when is my birthday?”

Roger’s mouth hung open as he searched his brain for a piece of information he knew wasn’t in there. A few seconds later, Wong turned mirthful.

“Did you spend the Blip hiding under a rock where there are no jokes? Come inside. We just got back.”

None of the thousands of times he’d come to the door mattered—Roger hadn’t been inside the Sanctum since that first time. He hoped the Sorcerer remembered him.

When he saw the man, Roger’s steps stuttered. The Sorcerer appeared grim and wiped out. He was dirty and he looked older, though Wong whispered to Roger that the Sorcerer had been among the Snapped. Roger understood that, for something to go right and bring everyone back to life, something else had gone wrong. He could dwell on that and awkwardly bow his way back out of there, or he could convince himself that things had gone wrong for him too, and that he’d like them to be righted. He remembered that his soulmate was a dictator and tried to channel that sense of entitlement.

“What do you know about the Anus?”

The Sorcerer blinked.

“What.” The word came out perfectly flat.

“The Anus.”

“I wasn’t that kind of doctor.”

Roger strode eagerly towards him, hands gesturing before his words caught up.

“When I was here about, um, five and a half years ago, I fell through your magic portal—”

The Sorcerer snapped his fingers in recognition and turned to Wong.

“Oh, that’s who this is. I always wondered what happened to that guy.” He looked at Roger again. “How did you get back to Earth?”

Roger hadn’t been prepared to answer this question, just make his demands, and he began to explain what had happened to him, all out of order. The words ‘orgy ship’ had barely left his mouth when the Sorcerer was waving him into silence. His expression told Roger he was sorry he’d asked.

“So you went through the portal…” he prompted instead.

“That’s right! And for a while, I was just falling. I don’t know where I was.”

The Sorcerer stroked his chin.

“The connection must’ve been unstable. I know—one of your students distracted me.”

“That’d be Flash,” Roger said.

“Jesus. This is why I prefer not to be a field trip destination. Normally, the portal would allow you to pass cleanly through one place and into another.”

“And instead he passed cleanly through the Anus,” Wong summarized.

“…Yeah.”

Roger glanced from one man to the other.

“So,” he said, “could you do it again?”

The Sorcerer stared at him.

“The short answer is no. The long answer is also no, but it contains a great deal of vernacular to do with the Mystic Arts, so I’ll save us both some time.”

The last time Roger had defended his intellect and qualifications had been years ago, and he was out of practice. Anyway, he didn’t want a lengthy debate.

“Can’t you just open a portal and shove me through?”

“If you haven’t noticed, I’ve got a lot going on today. I’ve only entertained you this long because you and Wong seem to be friends. I’m not just going to mess around to humour you.”

“What if you had to do it?” Roger asked quickly, beginning to feel desperate and preparing to metaphorically jam one of his clumsy feet into the closing window of opportunity.

“Uh, let me think about that,” the Sorcerer droned disinterestedly. “No.”

“What if I attacked you and you opened a portal in self-defence?”

The Sorcerer squinted at him in disbelief and befuddlement.

“What?”

But Roger was already gracelessly throwing his weight into a wild, uncoordinated punch.

For once, he didn’t think critically of himself; he told himself that the Sorcerer’s portal sparked up between them because he was intimidated by Roger’s tenacity. And that it didn’t show a clear destination because the Sorcerer’s reaction speed was no match for Roger using the element of surprise. And that he dove purposely through the portal—on a mission for love and science and the unknown—instead of tumbling into it sideways because the momentum of his unpracticed punch had gotten the better of his balance. It didn’t matter. His feet went out from under him and he was on his way.

Roger had forgotten how intense the trip was, but he completely recalled the rough landing, bouncing down through a stack of the universe’s lost garbage. He shut his eyes to the whooshing and the brightness and braced himself (probably too early, but he didn’t think he could be too careful on this reckless endeavor).

He felt his body hit open air and gasped as he fell, trying to keep his limbs tucked in. The hat he’d been wearing was torn from his head. Didn’t matter; it wouldn’t have offered much protection anyway. At any moment, his poor elbows and knees would be battered by space junk. Between his velocity and his fear of the coming impact, Roger could hardly breathe.

Music. A familiar voice singing, It’s my soulmate! made his eyes fly open. Right in time to land on his back. Whatever was beneath Roger was soft, but he’d still had the wind knocked out of him and was struggling to fill his lungs. His eyes clamped shut as he began to cough.

“I have no idea how you survived that thing twice, but I sure am glad I caught ya.”

Finally sucking in a stronger breath, Roger opened his eyes and looked up. His glasses were askew. Above him was the opening in the ceiling of a hovering spacecraft, but closer than that, leaning over him, was the face of the Grandmaster. He was beaming.

“Any trouble with the Anus?” he asked.

Roger grabbed for the hand his soulmate had rested on his shoulder and moved it to his chest, right over his heart.

“The asshole who got me here will probably be thrilled to never see me again, but the Anus treated me just fine.”

“Ha!” the Grandmaster barked. His free hand lovingly patted Roger’s windblown hair back into place. “Welcome home.”

[babybatscreationsv2]

A King on a Leash ch7

Marvel | Starker

Tony Stark is a powerful man with a beautiful husband and a loyal crime family, but it looks like he didn’t keep his husband on a short enough leash. After turning Peter lose on a Cuban gang leader, Peter’s life is  in danger. The real trouble is that Tony now realizes that Peter is the  only thing in this world that he cares about and he never meant for that  to happen.

Sequel to A Doll on a String

Rating: Explicit

Full Fic

A Doll on a String

Warnings under the cut*

Warnings: mafia au, codependency, choking, unsafe sex, extreme breath play, referenced murder violence and torture

The sun came in through the thin curtains, waking Tony from his sleep. He opened his eyes and the first thing he saw was Peter. He was still asleep, laying on his back, softly snoring, mouth open, always the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

He checked the clock. They had two hours still before they needed to be up. At least today, they could take the drive into town together. Tony could pick Peter up from the performance hall. Maybe they needed some distance between them, but with Harry Osborn stepping up to bat, Tony wasn't comfortable with the idea of distance. Peter certainly didn't mind when Tony got clingy. It seemed to make him happy, in fact.

He laid there and watched Peter sleep until his body ached to get up and move. Then he carefully pulled himself from the bed, trying not to jostle his husband. He went to the closet and pulled on some sweat pants and a t-shirt. Then he heard Peter stirring on the bed.

"Tony?" he mumbled.

Tony went to the bed and caught Peter's searching hand. "Right here, angel."

He smiled. "Good morning, daddy. Did you sleep well?"

Tony smiled, too. Peter was a sight with his eyes barely open and his hair frizzy from the pillows. "Of course. How are you, darling?"

"Still missing you."

Tony chuckled. "I'm right here. Don't miss me."

Peter sat up and slipped down from the bed. He wrapped his arms around him. "Come shower with me."

"Sounds great."

He followed Peter into the bathroom and stood checking his reflection while Peter warmed up the water. He shot Tony a coy smile before slipping behind the frosted glass door. Tony shucked off what little clothes he wore and followed him into the shower.

Peter didn't offer any pretense of wanting to bathe. He turned and press his bare chest against Tony's. His hands held the back of his neck and pulled him down. Tony wrapped his arms around him, soaking up Peter's kisses.

"Missed you so much," Peter breathed between kisses.

Tony smiled. "I was only gone for a day."

Peter shook his head. "That's too long."

"What about when you left me for a week?"

"It wasn't a whole week... and I still missed you. Speaking of... can we talk about that now?"

Tony stared at his face. The situation with Suarez's people would be handled soon enough. If they had just waited a few more days for Happy and Natasha to finish gathering intel, Nat could have warned him before they broke into his home.

"Let's wash up and then we'll talk. I promise."

"Okay." Peter kissed his cheek. Then he turned and stepped under the water. Tony helped him wash which led to more kissing, but they were both too busy thinking to be distracted by sex.

They dried and dressed then went to the kitchen. Tony didn't feel much like eating, but that didn't stop Peter from making him a waffle away. Once they were both sitting, food steaming in front of them, Tony finally started talking.

"Rhodey got word that Suarez has people after you. I didn't want to worry you. I'm handling it." He waved his hand to express that this was all very much not worth worrying over.

Peter nodded, poker face on. If Tony didn't know any better he would think he was truly unfazed. "What do we know?"

"Suarez has a cousin or something, he's pissed, and he knows that you're connected to me somehow. Or at least, that's what we knew yesterday. Obviously, they figured out who you are and where we live." He reached across the table and took Peter's hand. He didn't look very hungry anymore.

"I have everyone looking into it: Happy, Rhodey, Natasha. We're gonna find an in and then we're going to make this cousin disappear along with anyone else who's got a problem with you."

Peter nodded. "I know we will. But not if you keep secrets from me."

"I never want you to be afraid."

"It's you I'm worried about," Peter said.

"It's not me than they came for."

Peter squeezed his hand. "If something happens-"

"Peter don't-" Tony shook his head, but Peter wasn't to be stopped.

"I want you to know that it's not your fault. You're doing everything you can and it was my choice to handle it the way I did. You said it yourself, I never needed to kill Suarez or any of his men. I wanted to. So I only have myself to blame." Peter gave him a shrug and a smile like it was no big deal.

Tony picked up Peter's hand and pressed it to his lips. "I'm going to take care of it."

Peter pressed his hand to cheek. "I know you'll protect me. You'll make them all regret fucking with the Starks."

Tony smiled. "That's right, angel. We're the kings of this city."

"You're the king of the world."

The love in his eyes was blinding, reassuring. Tony got lost in it, forgetting his usual insecurity. If Peter wouldn't protest being late he would make love to him here on the counter top. Slow and deep until they felt merged into one. For a moment, Tony believed that Peter's love and admiration were unbreakable.

"I love you."

Peter smiled. He would swear his eyes twinkled. "Love you, Tony."

Tony watched, moony-eyed, while Peter finished his breakfast. He fed Tony bites off of his plate. Tony didn't eat anything that Peter didn't feed him. He didn't honestly care what that said about him. They went back upstairs to finish getting ready. The bedroom was starting to smell from the gore splattered around the room. Or maybe, he just hadn't noticed it until the smell of waffles cleaned out his nose. He'd have to call his cleaner to handle it while they were gone. Some of the boys would sit and monitor the process. It wasn’t safe to trust a single soul. Not even the hunch backed Korean man who liked Tony's money more than morals.

They got into the car and Peter snuggled into his side. They usually did their own thing after leaving the house, but he seemed needy. Maybe he was afraid. It made Tony want to grind his teeth. The only thing Peter should ever be afraid of was him. Not that he was anymore, he knew Tony was wrapped around his finger. Sometimes he missed scaring him. Maybe he'd do something just for fun.

He wrapped his arm around him and kissed his forehead when he looked up. He let that hand come up to wrap around Peter's neck. He watched his pupils widen in response. He squeezed. Angel that he was, his legs spread. Probably didn't even realize what he was doing.

Peter was in leggings today. Tony could see that bulge in the fabric beginning to grow. Perfect. So perfect. He squeezed until he couldn't breathe.

"Daddy-" Peter gasped. Tony smirked. He looked afraid. It felt good.

Tony carefully pushed him down onto his back, hand still on his throat. Peter let himself be guided even as he struggled to take in air. They had surpassed a point of danger where Tony usually stopped. He never fully stopped Peter's breathing, but he had such a craving for fear and violence. And Peter was so beautiful when he was scared or in pain. He wasn't even trying to push Tony away.

He touched Peter's cock through his leggings. "I'm not going to let go until you cum."

"Please-" he rasped.

"Don't waste your breath, sweetheart. You need all the air you can get." Tony kissed his open mouth. His hand rubbed hard and fast against Peter's cock. He pushed his hips up against it. He wasn't sure Peter would be able to cum before his lips turned blue and some horrible little part of him wanted to stick to his word regardless. He can't leave me if he's dead.

No, worse. He can't love me if he's dead.

Peter choked, his eyes rolled back in his head, his body shuddered. Tony felt wet under his hand and he kept rubbing, but he let go of Peter's neck. He sucked in a rush of air, gasping and moaning, little tears caught in his eye lashes.

"Daddy- daddy, so good," he moaned. "Thank you, daddy." He sounded near delirious.

"Good boy."

Peter moaned, his grip was weak on Tony's shirt. "That's my angel."

Peter smiled. He blinked away tears. "My daddy." He sat up and gave Tony a kiss. Then he frowned. "Ugh." He looked down at his lap. "Seriously, my leggings?"

"Tell everyone you spilled coffee on your lap." Tony grinned, all teeth. "Or, tell them your daddy made you cum in your pants like a little whore."

Peter sat with his legs squeezed together and his arms crossed until the car parked in the front of the performance hall. Then he sat and scowled at him.

"Aw, what's wrong, sweetheart?" Tony cooed. He adored the look on his face. "We both know you have a change of clothes inside."

"You're so mean."

Tony caught his chin. He gave Peter a quick kiss on his pouting lips. "Have fun, angel."

Peter wrinkled his nose. "You have fun," he grumbled, climbing out of the car.

Tony sighed and relaxed back into his seat, straightening his tie. That felt good. But of course, the feeling wasn't meant to last. His phone began to buzz in his pocket. He pulled it out and checked the number

Natasha.

He answered the call, but didn't bother to speak. The fewer words spoken the better. At least, that was what Natasha believed.

"I've got a lead," she said. Then she hung up.

Tony tapped the seat in front of him to get the driver's attention. He had been pointedly not looking in the backseat for a while now. "Back to base," he said.

"You got it, boss."

Tony's hands were fisted on top of his thighs. He stared ahead at passing buildings and saw none. He hoped what Natasha had was enough for them to end this mess. It wouldn't do for Peter to be afraid, to feel powerless, to feel that Tony were powerless.

"If something happens," he had said. Did he already believe that Tony was weak? That he couldn't protect him?

The car pulled straight in to the open bay of the warehouse, an extra precaution since Peter's life was threatened. He waited for the bay door to close before stepping out of the car.

"Where's Romanof?" he asked an associate, Jefferson. He runs heroine for Bucky, but is also afraid of Bucky, which meant that Bucky was not in the warehouse. Hopefully Nat had sicced him on a lead.

"In the back, sir," he gestured down the hall.

The back rooms were both extra storage and a place to hide kidnapping victims. If she didn't have someone with her, she would have waited in his office. He felt hopeful. This had to be good.

He walked a pace too quickly down the hall, guards following him like shadows. Another associate waited outside of a room to direct Tony in. He took in only one guard, just in case. He didn't need him.

Natasha had a guy tied to a chair, way too tightly by the purple of his fingers. He was already shaking, but not yet crying. They still had work to do.

"What's this, Nat?" Tony asked as if he didn't know.

"This fella says he doesn't know anything about Los Tiburones, but I just don't believe him, Boss."

Tony looked at the man. Latino, late twenties, shaved head, dirty, stained clothes. One arm of his red flannel shirt was cut open revealing a tattoo of a shark bite.

"You don't run with the Tiburones?" Tony leaned against the wall, a hand against his chin.

"N-no, sir. She- she- the woman, she grabbed me! I just deliver sandwiches!"

Tony ignored the blatant lie. "Your English is good. You raised in the states?"

"Yes, sir. By my mother in Texas." He was somewhat soothed by the conversation.

"Must have broke her heart when you joined up with a Cuban gang. One would think she was trying to protect you from that."

"She's dead, sir."

"Is she?"

"Yes, sir, she was murdered."

"By the Tiburones?"

"No, sir, by-" he stopped.

"By a rival gang?" Tony quirked an eyebrow. He didn't say anything. "Let me guess. You joined the Tiburones to get revenge?" No. "You owed the Tiburones for avenging her for you?" No. "She was killed because you joined the Tiburones." Yes. There was a little flash of panic in his eyes. Better than a lie detector.

Tony stepped away from the wall. He leaned down into the man's face. "You know who I am?" He nodded. "Then you know why you're here?" He nodded, hands trembling. "Don't play any more games with me."

He didn't offer a consequence. It didn't matter whether he cooperated or not. They would get what they needed out of him.

[madexinxheaven]

@whoxyouxhate said: 💊 - Is your character on medication? If so, why? @ the mains

"In this line of work and after everything we've been through? How could I NOT?"

Seriously, no one saw the kind of things Caitlyn had seen without developing serious cases of PTSD, SEPARATION ANXIETY & PARANOIA. She couldn't even HUNT these days without being hopped up on meds. After all, the last time she went out on the hunt, she'd come back to a BLOODBATH; With every last servant DEAD and her parents MISSING. Since then she'd risen up the ranks of the L.G.D as far and the way most prolific SNIPER they had. And from INFECTED to MURDER to RAPE to THIS VERY WAR, well... They hadn't made the nightmares any easier... The meds did, though. (Kinda...)

"This world breaks people. One way or the other."

"I, uhh... Texas says I SHOULD..."

Hyperactivity, blunt impulsion and a struggle with maintaining her own attention had LONG been problems that had cast Exusiai into danger TIME & TIME AGAIN. The youthful Sankta had a whole list of bad run-ins, mistakes, REGRETS, to her record. Yet, still, for the most part, she remained UNBOTHERED -- UNBURDENED. Fact also remained that she'd grown RECKLESS, CARELESS & IMPULSIVE in many things. Definitely didn't get enough sleep at night. And had a tendency for getting herself KNEE DEEP IN SHIT. But she meant well, and had fun, and only hurt the BAD PEOPLE, right? So it couldn't have been THAT IMPORTANT... -- RIIIGHT??

"But... What's the WORST that could happen?"

"I... What exactly are we counting as medication here?"

Did they count the CANDIES & TREATMENTS that protected against FROSTBITE? Did they count the various ways she'd tried over the years to actually feel some level of WARMTH? To warm the CHILL that was in her deathly rattling bones? Or were they just talking about the medications that Rhodes Island filled Infection with to pretend like they were actually making a DIFFERENCE. Then again, maybe they WERE making a difference... And it was all just so much harder for FrostNova to see from so far away. Irregardless, the answer was: No. she DIDN'T take any official medications. But she had her own self-medications. For what they counted for. 

"I make do."

"Mmh? Oh, no..."

Shake of her accompanied her simple answer. Sometimes she wondered if she should have. Mostly whenever her personality PISSED OFF Blaze, but in truth she spent more time ADMINISTERING medication than TAKING IT. After all, she may have been a designated SNIPER, but she still was an operator working for Rhodes Island. And every last INFECTED in the world NEEDED medication. In fact, the more she thought about it... Maybe they should've been screening people more closely on a PSYCHOLOGICAL basis rather than observing their levels of ORIGINUM CRYSTALIZATION, no? Not to say they didn’t. They absolutely did. PRTS was surprisingly adept at it. But... But just like with treating the Infected, couldn’t they always do a better job at that, too?

"It's surprising, really. Or... Or maybe we're just not thinking about that kinda stuff? Maybe it's just become the new normal, y'know?"

"Medication? Me? Oh, no. I'm not any medication."

Granted, for every pill Makoto DIDN'T take she had a line in her contract with JOHANNA that all but unshackled her from the constraints of her greatest mental battles. Including her OBSESSIVE COMPULSION, PERFECTIONISM, CODEPENDENCY & INABILITY TO SAY NO BORN OF NO SMALL AMOUNT OF SELF-DEPRECATION. But then, didn't Johanna make everything in Makoto's life turn monochrome? Flirting in that moral grey area, caught between her duty as a Lungmen Guard and her own INFECTED VIGILANCE. In many ways, she supposed she was LUCKY for that. Every last inch of that self-deprecation came with another inch of herself she GENUINELY didn't like. And since Johanna had come into her life, Makoto had step-for-step came closer & closer to someone she could be PROUD OF.

"But I don't blame people if they need it. This... This world is... It's hard... So very hard..."

"Huh? Medication? What on Terra possessed you to ask a question like that?"

For once, Swire was NOT acting out of self-defence but, rather, asking very genuine questions. Albeit... She still didn't exactly ask them WELL. Confrontation was Swire's life. The bitch wore her heart on her sleeve, and her heart was big but easily wounded. To answer: Swire was not presently on any medication. She'd had her BOUTS of issues and therapies, usually when those insecurities ADDED UP, and she stopped being able to SIT ON HER FEELINGS, but largely she remained clean. At her standard, she liked to think she was HANDLING IT WELL... ALL THINGS CONSIDERED... But deep down? Well... Her episodes DID speak for themselves. (And it was usually Ch'en picking up the pieces.)

"Not right now. But sometimes life just gets to ya, y'know?"

"Medication? Hm. Sounds almost novel at this point, in all honesty. One might say, NAIVE."

If ANYONE was a poster-child for SHOULD BE ON MEDICATION, it was far and away TALULAH ARTORIUS. The girl had been broken for one or two decades far too long. & now she was FAR TOO FAR GONE. Pretty sure anyone who rallies together a radicalized group of freedom fighters to take over Lungmen & Ursus through TERROR TACTICS with a central goal of enacting revenge on the friends and family that HURT THEM as a child most certainly qualified for needing therapy. (Or maybe an ASYLUM.) Maybe if people had cared back when she was still BREAKING, all of this coud've been avoid. And, no, Ch'en DIDN'T count. How could she? What was her baby sister SUPPOSED to do about her abused sister who had been driven to psychosis by their very own family?

"We're far beyond the point of no return by now. Sometimes tells me I'm going to die before even taking one pill."

"Kee-Ahaha... Haha... Ahahahahahaha... Oh... That's cute."

Holy. Fucking. Shit. They really had to ASK that question? No. Of course she wasn 't on MEDICATION. The psychotic bitch didn't even let Rhodes Island treat her for Oripathy and she'd SIGNED ON AS THEIR MERCENARY. Of course, being feared by every last motherfucker in the galaxy kinda had some BENEFITS in that sense. Now, should she have been? Of course she should have been. Girl had one of the highest Originum densities in all of Rhodes Island. Oh, and there was the little tid bit of her being a PYROMANIACAL, MURDEROUS LITTLE PSYCHO. Yeah, that level of destructive psychotic mania PROBABLY needed a maximum security INSANE ASYLUM, let alone anti-psychotics and sedatives. But as they say somewhere else in the world: Y.O.L.O!!

"I'd like to meet the doctor that can actually make me take my pills~~!!"

"..."

Silence spoke louder than words, as they always say. And the truth was... Yuhsia was on SEVERAL medications as a result of the youth she spent alone in Lungmen after the disappearance of TALULAH and the abandonment of CH'EN & SWIRE. Would anyone really be surprised to learn that? Probably NOT, in all honesty. Mafia girl was left alone with some of the corrupt narcissist this side of the Ursus border and later forced to do all of the Rat King & Wei Yenwu's DIRTY WORK. Not to mention the sting of BROKEN PROMISES. To this day, Yuhsia had never EVER let anyone get remotely close to her. Most of all, Ch'en & Swire. Though they persisted like nagging little GNATS. But back to the question at hand... Yuhsia had developed a certain... TEMPERAMENT that she liked to keep on top of. The Rat King saw the worst of it. But she'd be damned if she EVER let Ch'en and Swire see it in the slightest. Meds HELPED with that.

"You should be careful asking questions like that to people like me. Who knows what might happen to you..."

[backtobackbakubabe]

I am the Alpha Now Part 2

Bakugo X Reader 

Words : 2797

Reader is from America and somewhat of a delinquent with an alpha quirk that allows her to turn into a wolf as well as bond with dogs. She is sent to UA to straighten out her attitude. She ends up in a power struggle with none other than our favorite hot head. Words in Italics are words said telepathically

*****************************************************************************************************

You tossed and turned all night much to Mercy’s annoyance. He huffed every time you rolled over. He was usually a pretty heavy sleeper but it seemed even he was a little on edge. 

Before you knew it the sun was rising and there was a loud pounding at your door. There’s no way you slept through your alarm. You would have had to actually be asleep to do that. You rolled over and peaked at your phone and saw that it was 5:30 in the morning. A whole hour before you had originally planned to wake up. 

You tried to ignore the man outside your door but no matter how tight you pulled the pillow over your head you still heard his fist banging on your door. Finally, you gave up and rolled out of bed. You dragged your feet to the door and threw it open. Bakugo had been mid knock and was thrown off balance at the door being suddenly swung open. He caught himself on the door frame his eyes scanning you from head to toe. You were in an oversized t shirt, big fluffy socks, and your hair was in a messy bun with your hair hanging out in multiple places. You knew you looked rough, but you couldn’t find it in you to care before 6 am. 

You rubbed the sleep from your eyes and leaned your sleepy head against the door, “Dude what the fuck. Iida said you’d be here at 7…” 

Bakugo’s crossed his arms over his chest, “No he said I would be here no later than 7… now get ready and for shits sake put some fucking pants on.”

You quirked an eyebrow as the tips of his ears turned a little pink, “Oh? Do my bare legs seduce you?” You tugged on the collar of your giant t-shirt exposing your bare shoulder, “How about my shoulders? Do they really drive you crazy?” 

Bakugo rolled his eyes before turning his back to you, “As if I would ever be tempted by an extra like you! Now hurry up! I run on a tight schedule. I need to get my morning workout in before class!” 

You scoffed, “That’s why we’re up this early? So you can workout? You could totally do that without me… Come on man seriously!” 

You saw the muscles in his back tense up, “Listen here idiot! I’ve been instructed to help you until you acclimate or whatever so if I’m working out, you’re working out. If I’m studying, you’re studying. Now get your ass into some gym clothes and let’s fucking move!” 

You slammed the door and stomped over to your closet. There were two gym uniforms and two regular uniforms. Your eyes lingered on the skirts… you didn’t usually wear skirts, especially skirts that short. You packed one uniform in your school bag and quickly dressed into the gym clothes. 

You threw a pillow at Mercy on your way out, “Come on bud. Time to get to work..”

He slowly stretched before walking up next to you at a snails’ pace. “Do we have to? I was finally starting to get some real sleep.”

You grabbed his collar, leash, and collapsible water bowl as you opened the door again. “Take it up with sparky out here. He’s the one who is insisting we have to go.” 

Bakugo rolled his eyes as Mercy just gave him a bored stare, “Are you guys just going to talk shit about me all day?”

You shrugged, “Yeah, probably. It’s what we do best.” You reached for Mercy and went to put his collar on. He stiffened for a bit before mumbling at you. “I know you hate it, but you have to, now quit your whining.”

Bakugo tilted his head, “He doesn’t like his collar?”

You shook your head as you finally got it clipped into place, “He hates it. I can’t really blame him though. Collars are for pets. He’s not my pet, he’s my beta. He’s a pack member. But people tend to freak out when a huge wolf-dog walks by and I feel like the collar lets them know he’s not wild or something.” 

You were following him out of the dorms now. He nodded, “That makes sense I guess. So is he going to be with you all the time? I get that he’s kind of like an extension of your quirk but even when we’re in class?” 

You started to take your messy bun down so you could braid it later, “Well usually he’s with me pretty much 24/7. He really is smart. I think he could really benefit from being in class. If nothing else it’ll help him with his social skills.” You looked over at Mercy who was busy walking ahead of you sniffing everything he possibly could. “He doesn’t really like many people. I think it’s just because people tend to treat him like a dumb dog and it bothers him. I’m hoping if I can get him around other people he can actually make friends.” 

“Tch. You act like he’s an actual person..”

You gave Bakugo’s shoulder a shove, “Just because I was born a human doesn’t mean I am not also a wolf. The same can be said Mercy. Every day his mind grows and evolves. For me it’s like having a brother.” 

You thought Bakugo would have some mean comment about treating Mercy like a human but instead he shrugged, “Well just make sure little brother keeps those massive teeth away from me. He may be evolved or whatever but he’s still an asshole.” 

You giggled, “You got that right. But that probably has a lot to do with the fact that his personality is somewhat influenced by mine.” 

Bakugo nodded as he opened the door to the training facility, “That could also be why he doesn’t get along with other people. Seems like you two are kind of codependent.” 

Your shoulders tensed. That wasn’t the first time someone had said that. You ran your fingers through you long thick (h/c) hair, pulling out the knots. “I’ll admit we do live in our own little world sometimes. But until you’ve experienced the kind of bond we have being in a pack its hard to explain.” The watch you were wearing got caught in pretty bad tangle and you winced. 

“Dumbass. Do you ever brush your hair?” Bakugo was behind you now helping you free your watch. His fingers were surprisingly gentle and if you were being honest it felt kind of good. You couldn’t let him know that though.

“Of course I brush my fucking hair. I just have a lot of fucking hair!”

Mercy was now trying to put himself in between you and Bakugo, “He is too close. Tell him to back up. I don’t like it. Too close.”

When Bakugo didn’t budge Mercy gave him a nudge.“Seriously why does he hate me so much?”

You put your hand on his shoulder, “Why do you care whether he likes you or not?”

Bakugo leaned in and put his hand over yours, “I don’t.” He shoved your hand away, “Now let’s get started.” He turned to look at Mercy, “Go take a seat over there by the wall. You’ll have plenty of time to train with her later but right now it’s my turn.”

Mercy just cocked a head at him which lead to Bakugo narrowing his eyes, “Listen y/n already told me you’re fucking smart, so I know you understand me. Go sit by the wall and take a nap or whatever…”

Mercy gave you a quick look to make sure you were okay. You nodded and he trotted off to the side. 

Bakugo started to stretch, “So was he ignoring me to be an asshole or is your whole alpha thing really that deep?”

You started to braid your hair, “Actually I think he was just taken a bit off guard. Like I said most people treat him like a dumb animal. You spoke directly to him and in a normal voice. If anything I’d say you probably earned some brownie points.”

You could see him trying to hide a smile. He may not be as rough as you thought. 

Bakugo then sent an explosion your way with absolutely zero warning. Just kidding. He’s a dick. 

You could hear him cackling, “Gotta stay on your toes if you’re ever going to catch up.” 

When the smoke cleared he was met with your wolf form. Your bright blue eyes glaring at him. “Mercy whatever happens stand down. I need to prove to this crack head that I’m not the one who needs to catch up…”

Mercy nodded, “If only I had a snack to watch the show. Kick his ass.”

You lunged for Bakugo, pinning him under your full weight, baring your teeth and letting a feral growl rumble from your chest. 

“Damn! Someone needs to go on a diet! How much do you fucking weigh?”

You pushed harder into him before he faced him palms towards the floor and set off an explosion that sent the both of you flying. 

You scrambled to regain your footing and whipped your head around. Where the fuck was he? 

“I know you said to stay out of it but he’s sneaking up from-.”

Bakugo tackled you wrapping his arms around your large neck.

 “….Behind you.” 

You had to give it to him. Bakugo was a lot stronger than he looked. He had you in a tight choke hold and no matter how hard you tried you could buck him off. 

“Just submit already!” He was all you could smell. His sweet, sweaty, burnt caramel smell. It was driving you crazy. You needed to get away from him. 

You stood up on your hind legs and threw yourself backwards. Trapping him underneath you once again, but even then he didn’t let go. “Just submit! Shit!”

You thrashed around, bringing your back feet up to kick and scratch at his arms. You could smell the blood you drew, but somehow he still didn’t let go. Who the fuck was this guy the terminator? 

You could feel your vision going blurry. If you didn’t shift soon you’d run out of air. “Come on don’t be proud!”

Right before you blacked out you shifted back. Gasping for air you were now laying on top of Bakugo. His arm now loose around your shoulders. Your back against his chest. You were sucking in breath coughing now trying to get air back into your lungs. 

Bakugo sat you both up slowly but made no attempt to move you away from him. You were leaning on him now. “Oi! Mercy, there’s a water bottle next to my gym bag. Can you grab it and bring it here?” 

To your surprise Mercy did as he asked and brought the water over. Bakugo took the cap off and immediately handed it to you. “Get some water you stubborn woman. Seriously what were you thinking? You almost passed out?”

You chugged some water before handing it back to him. It was then you noticed the deep gashes in his forearms. “You could…. Have… let go.” 

“Tch, I’m not the one to tap out of a fight.” 

You turned to face him and picked up his arm examining the gashes, “Clearly…” You snapped your fingers and pointed to his bloody arms and Mercy reluctantly started to lick them. 

Bakugo hissed, “Oi! What the fuck! Get him off!”

You thumped him on the nose again like you did last night, “Relax dude, look.”

When he looked down he saw that his wounds had started to heal. “It doesn’t work on all injuries. But it’ll help. It only stings for a bit.”

He huffed, “Yeah thanks for the warning. It stings like a bitch.”

You just shrugged, “I figured if you could let me tear into you without letting go then you could handle a little pain.” 

His eyes lit up a little, “Oh I can handle a little pain you brat. The question is can you?”

Before you could respond Mercy was behind him shoving his nose deep in his hair sniffing him. “I still don’t like him. He’s cocky. But I like him more than other people I don’t like.”

You expected Bakugo to yell and push Mercy away but instead he just sat there looking like a grumpy cat, “Is this necessary?”

You stood up and held out your arm for him, “It can be helpful later if knows your scent. He can track down a scent for miles. He usually doesn’t care enough to remember people’s scents but you seem to be slowly growing on him.” 

He pushed Mercy’s face away from his, “Alright dude, I need to get up. If you don’t mind, please refrain from sniffing my ass when I do.”

Mercy snorted a few times which made Bakugo freeze, “Did he just laugh at me?”

You pet Mercy with you right hand and Bakugo with you left, “He sure did! Look at you guys becoming friends! It’s so cute!”

“Tch, don’t pet me like one of your dogs.” He looked at Mercy, “Do you seriously like that? You don’t like a collar but you like being pet all the time?”

Mercy jumped up and down barking with excitement, “Uh yeah! It feels nice. Is he dumb? Who doesn’t like a good pet?” 

Bakugo reluctantly reached his hand out and gave an awkward pat to the top of Mercy’s head, “I’ll take that as a yes.” 

You were still a little light-headed as you walked towards the girl’s locker room. “I’ll leave you two bros to it. I’m going to go shower and change.”

You could hear Bakugo protesting behind you but you just didn’t care. You needed a shower. You didn’t bother washing your hair. There was just too much hair and not enough time. It would be air drying the rest of the day. So your shower was pretty quick. The hang up came when it was time for that damn skirt.

You pulled it on and immediately felt so exposed. You much preferred shorts. At least with shorts you didn’t have to worry about accidentally leaning over too far and flashing everyone. 

“Hurry up in there we’re going to be late for class!” 

You blushed and grabbed your bag on your way out. You had put on a little bit of makeup to hide the fact you were running on fumes. You were exhausted. 

Bakugo turned to face you when he heard you approaching. You watched his reaction and he didn’t seem to see anything wrong with your uniform. Maybe all the girls looked like this. 

The whole time you followed him to class you were tugging on your skirt trying to make sure it wasn’t riding up. Eventually Bakugo caught on and sighed, “What’s wrong with the skirt? Does it not fit?”

You blushed, “I don’t know… does it? I don’t really wear a lot of skirts. You can’t really fight in a skirt…” 

It was Bakugo’s turn to blush, “You want me to look at your ass… on purpose… to let you know if your skirt fits.”

You threw your head in your hands, “Ugh well when you say it like that I sounds crazy!”

He grabbed you by the shoulders and turned you around, “Just don’t fucking tell anybody alright.” 

He went silent for a while which did nothing good for your anxiety. He finally cleared his throat as he reached down and tugged your skirt down just slightly. “I will say it is a little short. I think they gave you one based on your height, but I don’t think they knew how… you know…” 

You turned and saw that his cheeks were almost as red as his eyes, “What? Thick I am? I may be a little on the short side, but I work out all the time and I have the ass to prove it.” You tugged a little more, “Is it bad though? Like will I get in trouble or anything?”

Bakugo could see you visibly uncomfortable, “I mean technically it’s still in dress code, I would just highly recommend not bending over, or even making eye contact with the kid with purple balls on his head.” He gave your shoulder a quick shove, “Now let’s move it before we are late. I’ll see what I can do about getting you a different skirt later.” 

You nodded and gave him a mock salute, “Yes sir! Right away sir!” before giggling and walking towards the classroom marked 1A. 

Bakugo looked down at Mercy who was still standing next to him, “She’s going to be the fucking death of me, I just know it.” 

[lopithecusfanfiction]

We All Wear Masks Sometimes

Author: Lopithecus Pairing: Hatake Kakashi/Maito Gai | Might Guy Rating: General Audiences Word Count: 1674 Alternate: AO3 Summary: Kakashi comforts Gai after Lee gets injured during the Chunin exams Warnings: N/A Author's Note: This is for day 6 of KakaGai Week 2020 ( @kkgweek ).  I have a feeling a lot of the fics/art that are going to use this prompt are going to be Kakashi focused. So, I decided to do the opposite. This is set just after the preliminary round during the Chunin Exams. Also, it’s not made explicitly clear that Kakashi and Gai are together, but it is implied that they are. Please enjoy! Prompt: Day 6 - Mask

Gai has a habit of pretending to be okay for everyone else's sake even if he's not. He'll smile and laugh, say something with poetic prose, and then throw out a thumbs-up with a hand on his hip. Sure, on good days he actually is like that, Gai's personality having been molded very carefully and lovingly by his father, but Gai's father could only do so much. Kakashi knows this.

Sometimes Kakashi thinks he's the only one to know this about Gai.

On days that are hard, the really bad days that all shinobi get no matter how cheerful and optimistic one can be, Gai amplifies the theatrics to one hundred. No one really notices, no one besides Kakashi, because Gai never lets anyone get close enough to him to show his real personality. Sure, the man is close to his friends, closer still to his students, but he can't act weak around them. He can't let his friends' teasing bother him and he has to be the perfect role model for his students.

With Kakashi, it's different.

Maybe that is what happens when you grow up fighting a war together and lose everyone you love? You tend to latch onto the one that never left. You hold onto them like they are your lifeline and if that line were to ever get cut then you would drown.

Or maybe Kakashi is just being overly dramatic and it has nothing to do with that. Maybe it's just a testament of how long they have been friends that allows the two to be open with each other and no one else. Kakashi has never been great at interpreting attachments and he's the last person to try to make it into a healthy conclusion in his mind.

He's always been a little bit codependent on the people he's cared about.

Gai especially. 

Maybe that's why, before he goes to fetch Sasuke from the hospital to begin his training, he sets out trying to find Gai. He checks the training grounds first and finds Tenten and Neji there. Tenten is helping Neji train but Gai is nowhere in sight. Not surprising, considering where Lee is currently and in hindsight, Kakashi probably should have checked there first.

Still, just so he doesn't make a wasted trip to the hospital, he steps out of the bushes and makes his presence known to the Genin. "Yo."

They both turn to him. It's the first time Kakashi has actually interacted with Gai's students in the year that he's had them. It's shocking, really, considering how much Gai loves to challenge him. Although, Gai hadn't interacted with Kakashi's students until the beginning of the Chunin Exams either. It almost makes him want to laugh and he's kind of sorry he missed that introduction. He would have loved to have seen the little brats' faces at meeting Maito Gai.

"Kakashi-sensei!" Tenten greets him eagerly, pink coloring her cheeks, while Neji doesn't acknowledge him at all. He's not surprised they know his name. Maybe the Hyūga is mad at him for stopping him from killing that Hinata girl?

"Is Gai at the hospital?" he asks, getting straight to the point. He doesn't have all day. Sasuke is waiting for him.

"Oh, yeah! You just missed him," Tenten tells him, her smile disappearing. "He's visiting Lee but said he'd be back soon if you want to wait."

It's just like Gai to divide up his time between his students despite his overwhelming worry about Lee. Kakashi waves the invitation off. "I'll go see him there. Thanks."

Tenten slumps in disappointment and Neji crosses his arms, turning away. He waves goodbye at them anyway. He doesn't need them complaining to Gai about his behavior and then Gai giving Kakashi a huge speech about treating young Genins with more respect.

He doesn't go into the hospital once he's there. He'll be back to get Sasuke and going into the building one time is one too many in Kakashi's mind. So, he waits outside, flaring his chakra a little to let Gai know he's there. He doesn't expect Gai to come out and greet him right away and about five minutes later, he is exiting the building with a wide smile.

Kakashi can already tell it's fake.

"Kakashi! My dearest Rival, what do I owe this pleasure?" Gai strolls up to him, arms out in a gesture to hug Kakashi. Kakashi lets him, wrapping his own arms around Gai's solid frame. He has a feeling Gai needs this comfort right now.

When they separate, Kakashi gestures with his head. "Take a walk with me."

Gai's smile twitches, threatening to fall but Gai has always been a master at forcing himself to smile through everything. It stays steady on his face. "Very well."

They walk in silence and they eventually make it to outside a hot spring. Kakashi leans down on the railing of a bridge, staring at the water beneath them. It reminds him that Naruto is probably searching for him this very second to train him and a pang of guilt clutches at Kakashi's chest. He does wish he could train both him and Sasuke. They both have very different skill sets, however, and if Sasuke is going to be going up against that sand jutsu, then Kakashi needs to focus on Sasuke at the moment. He'll have to get someone else to train Naruto and, although the thought to ask Gai to do it does cross his mind, Gai has too much on his plate right now. Plus, Naruto is going up against Neji. It might be a bit of a conflict of interest.

So, instead, he settles on someone else. "Is Ebisu available?"

Gai walks up beside him and leans his arms down onto the railing, much like how Kakashi is right now. "I believe so, yes. Why?"

"I was thinking of asking him to train Naruto before the final competitions in the Chunin Exams," he says.

Gai looks out into the water. "I think that would be a great idea. Ebisu is very capable. I can ask him if you want?"

Kakashi shakes his head. "Just have him meet me at the hospital. I have to pick up Sasuke."

Gai perks up at that. "Has Sasuke fully recovered?"

Kakashi picks his words carefully, thinking about Lee. "More or less."

Gai narrows his eyes at him, suspicion playing on his face. "You don't have to be gentle with me."

"And you don't need to pretend with me." Gai stares at him and Kakashi pokes him in the cheek. "Let yourself feel things."

Gai scoffs, goodnaturedly. "Says the man who is the master at suppressed emotions."

"I think we both are pretty good experts at it, wouldn't you say Gai-kun?" Gai scowls at the honorific. It's not very often Kakashi uses it. It's mostly to try and lighten the mood a bit. It doesn't seem to work. "Gai, what I said during the preliminaries about the gates…" He trails off, biting his bottom lip. He sighs and wonders if he sounds a bit hypocritical. He’s never been a fan of the gates for obvious reasons, after all. "I meant what I said afterward. I was out of line."

Gai shakes his head. "No." Kakashi furrows his brows in confusion. "You were right. I should have never taught Lee it. He's too young."

Kakashi frowns and reaches up to place a comforting hand on Gai's back. "You were even younger when your father started teaching you how to open the gates."

Gai huffs and pulls away from Kakashi. "And maybe he was wrong, too."

"Gai…"

"He died because he used the gates and… and I'm not condemning him for it. He used them to protect something precious to him, to protect me, and that is something to be proud of. But maybe… maybe I was too young, too?" Gai bows his head. "Maybe he should have never taught me it… because now Lee has almost died from using the gates."

"Gai," Kakashi pulls him closer so that their sides are pressed together. "That wasn't your doing. It was that kid from the Sand. He is the one who almost killed Lee."

"Lee would have given up sooner if he didn't have the gates."

"No, he wouldn't have." Gai looks up then, surprise written all over his face. "Gai, that child, is exactly like you when you were his age. You wouldn't have given up, would you?" Gai shakes his head. "Exactly. So gates or no gates, there is no doubt in my mind that Lee would have fought with everything he had and would have never given up."

"So, then you're saying it's a character flaw?"

Kakashi chuckles with exasperation, laying his forehead down onto Gai's shoulder. "No, I'm saying it's admirable." He lifts his head to look Gai in the eyes. "Stupid sometimes but admirable."

It gets Gai to laugh, a real laugh, and Kakashi's heart warms at the sound. He pulls him a little closer, carding his fingers into Gai's hair. He ruffles the strands, messing up the bowl cut and Gai tries to pull away in complaint. "Kakashi!"

Kakashi lets him escape and watches as Gai tries to smooth his hair back down with his lips set in a pout the whole time. It's adorable and he's glad he's managed to make Gai feel a little better. He's not very good at it most times but when he succeeds it makes him happy. Especially if it's Gai.

"Gai." Gai stops his ministrations on his hair, looking up at Kakashi. He's much more relaxed now, genuine seeming. "Lee will be okay. He's stubborn like you. Nothing will keep him down."

Gai stares at him for a few seconds, thinking, before a real smile breaks out on his face and he sticks out a thumbs-up in Kakashi's direction. "Most definitely, Rival!"

Kakashi chuckles again and, with an amused shake of his head, he throws an arm around Gai's shoulders, walking back to the hospital with him.

—————————————————————————————————

A/N: Don't worry. I didn't forget about the fact that Gai needs to have Ebisu come to the hospital. I just didn't write it in. What I imagine happening is, once back at the hospital, Gai uses a messenger turtle to instruct Ebisu to get to the hospital. It probably scares the shit out of Ebisu at first, thinking something bad might have happened to Gai until he gets there and Kakashi explains everything to him. He is not amused. XD

Thank you for reading!

[mavspeed]

First Line Meme

Rules: List the first lines of your last 20 stories (if you have less than 20, just list them all). See if there are any patterns. Choose your favorite opening line, then tag 10 of your favorite authors!

Hey @applesfallingfromblondehair, thanks for the tag love!! likewise i dont usually do this but this feels interesting so lets see if my ass has improved over the last few stories lmfkjgjk

also this will prob be a mix of xmcu fic + kingsman fic bc i think i have a more or less equal number of fics written for both

1.

The first time Charles meets Lucifer Morningstar, actual devil from hell, ruler of the underworld, fallen son of the lord above and god knows what else, it had been after Erik had been sentenced to life imprisonment in the highest security cell in the Pentagon. 

- this is from a professor and a devil walk into a bar, which is kinda a crossover rarepair fic that rose out of me and mutuals on twitter discussing tom ellis and james mcavoy being roommates and kinda... devolved from there. i am proud of this one lmfnjgkj

2.

“Are you okay, Professor?” Hank asks quietly.

Charles blinks. He supposes it’s a valid question. He’s been in a bit of a funk the past few days- scratch that actually, the past few years. He’s just lost so much- his father, and then his mother’s love, and then Raven and Erik and Sean and countless others. Building a school, gaining students he loved to teach and nurture hadn’t helped him in the slightest, and he’s as lost as he ever was, wandering the halls of a drafty mansion alone, feeling like he’s been stranded at sea even whilst surrounded by people.

- from in the belly of the beast, which again came out of me wondering what would have happened if fox had gone w their original plan and charles had been that last horseman instead of erik. this story will prob gain a sequel... sometime in the near future when im not too bogged down by current wips

3. 

The Xavier family hall of the deceased- because of course they’re weird enough to have a cemetery- is full of rows upon rows of holograms. Charles is four and gets bored of his father crying over his mother’s hologram, so he toddles over to the other rows. Unfamiliar names, all of them- Charles is young, and he doesn’t understand death. He doesn’t even know who his mother is, who’d died at childbirth and left him with a father still at a loss when it came to bringing up a kid.

- from tequila on a spaceship, the sequel to a fic that still has some people angry at me i think. this fic never did gain as much traction as the first one but im still proud of it esp since it discusses certain themes of reincarnation that ive always wanted to see explored for myself in reincarnation aus (and i only ever saw it in danveresque’s reincarnation au)

4.

There are cork boards covering every inch of the wall. Red strings, photographs, conspiracy threads, everything. Raven takes it in, swallowing, noticing the picture in the middle.

It’s one of Charles, when he’d been in university. His final year- he'd just been done presenting his year- end project, his fringe a tumbled mess and a bright smile on his lips. Erik had taken the picture, Charles scurrying to his side once he’d been done and demanding to look at the image, his tongue poking out the corner of his mouth. He looks like how Raven had always imagined him to be.

“He wouldn’t want this,” she finally says, turning to look at Erik.

- from tequila on a beach, the first fic to the fic above. this fic is v special to me because i actually wrote this on a spiral after having a very tough visit with one of my parents in the hospital after a surgery for organ removal to prevent the onset of cancer. its simpler than my other fics yet i think more powerful because of what happens. also i think the first time i killed charles off lol (spoiler alert). also idk if ppl were aware of this but this is called tequila on a beach precisely bc charles and erik were tipsy from tequila at a frat party and then went to a beach. its the way they first met (and will continue to meet for all their next lives)

5. 

Erik doesn’t know how it all started. Maybe it was when his insane sergeant had started rambling about imaginary cities, treasures of gold and cursed incantations. Maybe it was when trickles of rumours had started pouring down about the higher ups wanting to investigate unfound territory, disregard the Egyptian government’s feelings on the matter, and put a previously unfound myth on the map for all the world to see. Or maybe, Erik thinks, it was when archaeologist Klaus Schmidt put a bullet through his mother’s head and he ended up going to America armed with dual citizenship and the sole intent of wanting to drive a coin directly between Schmidt’s eyes, joining a division of the American military focused solely on guarding archaeological digs- more importantly, in Egypt, where Schmidt’s interest had shifted.

- from courting the end of the world, another one i’m just insanely proud of! this is the first time i’ve ever attempted a multichapter movie au and it actually managed to work pretty well, i at least haven’t run out of inspiration for it yet lmfjgjg. also erik as himbo rick connell... very rent free in my head

6. 

The day after they murder Shaw and leave his house of horrors, Erik crosses the Canadian border with Charles across his back. Charles had started getting tired while they’d been walking, stumbling and nearly tripping until Erik had forced him to get on his back, ignoring Charles’ protests.

The blood’s seeping out steadily from Charles’ nose, staining his shirt and soaking it through. It’s been leaking on and off, and the effects are already obvious in the dark circles beneath Charles’ eyes. Any more, and Erik knows they’ll have to find him a doctor. He hopes the nearest town in Canada has one that would be willing to treat them.

- from a world built for two. i actually dk where the inspiration for this came from, i think i was once again on a depressive spiral and wanted to break my comfort characters into pieces and put them together again. this also deals with codependency and unhealthy coping mechanisms as a result of trauma which i showed as sweet in the fic but i would def not recommend in real life. pls if u relate to either charles or erik in this go see a therapist

7. 

The call comes in the afternoon, an hour before Charles is supposed to teach his Intro to Genetics class. Frowning, Charles abandons the game of Candy Crush he’d admittedly been playing rather badly and picks it up. “Charles sp-”

“We need you, Prof,” Kitty says desperately into the phone. “He’s been in a temper all morning, and then Alex’s reports missed out a whole subsection, so he’s fired the entire marketing team! Please, Professor, you have to come immediately!”

- from and we can be pirates. i wrote this in like 4 seconds for my friend who wanted professor charles and ceo erik and actually did not expect this to gain the attention it did... its always the fics u write in like 4 seconds lmfjggj. a sequel for this Is coming too probably at some point in the very far future

8. 

Charles Xavier can admit as he sits across from Essex, hands cuffed to the desk, that in hindsight, this had perhaps not been one of his better ideas.

He refuses to admit it as he controls Erik’s mind, preventing him from lashing out and making him close his eyes to the nightmare unfolding in front of him. He refuses to admit it as he gets shoved into the back of a black pickup truck, and the butt of a gun is smashed across his forehead hard enough to knock him out cold for a few hours. He refuses to admit it when he wakes up what appears to be hours later in a cold interrogation room, hands cuffed to the table in front of him, with a suppression collar rendering his mind dark and almost achingly silent.

- from from the land of gods (bring me home). i’ve been struggling w this fic a lot (it didnt come as easily to me as the first one did) but its getting there. also i put charles through hell in this rip sorry mister xavier

9.

In the aftermath, both of them stand at the border of the mansion. The air feels frigid, slicing into Raven’s lungs like a thousand paper cuts. “Charles, please,” she begs, heart in her throat and voice hoarse. “He wouldn’t want you to be like this. He wouldn’t want you to do this. It’s not too late, you can come back.”

Charles gazes back, a brick wall. He hasn’t even cleaned up, still in that damnable yellow and blue suit with blood drying in the corners of his mouth, the bridge of his nose. There’s nothing in his eyes- blank, almost see through. He looks as if he’s a mere shade, a ghost lounging about where he once was. Raven knows better.

“I will raze the world to the ground,” he finally says, his voice free of any inflection, “and when I’m done, no one will be left standing. Not you, and certainly not me.”

- from where all the poets went to die, a dark fic based on what would have happened if moira had killed erik with the bullets. its the first time ive written dark charles and it was v fun if im being honest

10. 

Charles is a light sleeper. It’s a trait that stays with him- all the way from his father and the tests to taking care of his mother to Cain Marko and his fists to Cuba and then now, the dust of Washington settling over him and making the waking world lie an inch beyond his eyelids. It therefore stands to reason that the second the windowsill creaks he’s up in a shot, hoisting himself up and lashing out with his telepathy instantly.

That’s not a trait that had stayed with him. That’s a newly formed trait, bitter and bold, carved into existence by Cuba by his students disappearing one by one in Vietnam by the letters that announce Sean’s death in black unfriendly print by-

The tendrils of his telepathy forged cold and distant meet a barrier and recoil, stunned. He focuses his eyes and then widens them, staring at Erik who stares back, hidden beneath that infernal muddied magenta helmet of his. They stare at each other for a moment before Erik clears his throat.

- from in the valley of kings (you will come home). my first ever cherik fic! im actually also proud of this one even if i ended it horribly and half my mutuals refuse to read it bc of how it ended LMFJGJGJ. i cant believe this was supposed to be a funny and cute kid fic and then i turned it into an angst ridden mess. also leo is actually an oc whose adult version is fancasted as charlie rowe by me and another mutual on twitter and im v proud that readers are willing to die for the baby

11. 

Mike has to google it, finding a crafts shop nestled into the corner of the street right smack in the middle of Louisiana, past a long and winding dirt road and the crumbling farmhouses relics of a time long past. The air is hot, humid, sticking to the back of his neck like an unwieldy parasite as he pushes the door of the shop open to the sound of the bell tinkling above.

He finds the origami paper quickly enough and has a momentary breakdown about what Bill’s favourite colour even is- he had never thought to ask him. Twenty seven years of following every single footstep of his like a dedicated, most definitely creepy stalker, three months of more than a few states traversed with Bill’s laughter now echoing in his ears like a shadow that trails after him, and this is what stumps him. It takes ten minutes, but he finally settles on light green.

- my first and last entry into the IT fandom bc i love these two but to be very fair there isn’t much content out there for him (and twitter content actually intimidates me lmfjgjjg) a thousand paper cranes never got much traction either but i suspect its bc i was horrible at promoting it. also i very much love this fic even if it never did that well bc ive always wanted to write a fic like this after watching the movie in cinemas in 2019

12.

ok nsfw i guess 

Mornings start like this- Eggsy snuffling into David’s neck, attempting to work his way back up to wakefulness as David sleeps the sleep of the dead, the streams of morning sunlight gradually lightening up the room. It’s a while before he gets the energy to sit up, pushing an eager V off the bed- V for Vendetta, a kitten named after one of David’s favourite movies that they’d adopted about a month after moving in together- before stumbling to the loo. He’s already in the shower when David comes in, naked as the day he’s born with his arms entwining themselves around Eggsy’s waist as he murmurs a sleep-soft, “Good morning, love,” as he presses a kiss into the two-days-old hickey on Eggsy’s shoulder. His breath smells of toothpaste, the minty fresh kind he insists on buying from Target no matter how much Eggsy insists that the other brand is much better. Without fail, Eggsy always has a split second thought of thinking that he must truly be in heaven because no way can this be his reality, every single day, before sinking to his knees and allowing David’s cock to hit the back of his throat.

- from that’s the kind of love i’ve been dreaming of. i genuinely wish i had an opinion for this but i don’t remember writing this its been way too long

13. 

The first time Eggsy sees her is in Trafalgar Square.

Trafalgar Square is uncomfortably packed on any normal day, but on New Year’s it is quite the hothouse. Sweating armpits and hot bodies plastered against each other, the twinkling lights overhead providing a flash of blue and green and yellow and red, screaming children and giggling teenagers shoving their way through- it’s a recipe for disaster. Eggsy doesn’t know how he ends up there. It happens sometimes- one second he blinks, sequestered in the comfort of his living room, and the next he’s somewhere else, as if he’s been teleported. “Life goes past you,” Tilde had said once, “and you don’t even notice.” Tilde would be right.

- this is a roxy and eggsy friendship centric fic that i abandoned bc i lost my ardor for this world about the same time i got into xmen lmfjgjg. all the king’s horses also had some great fancasts in it with dev patel fancasted too... rip ig

14. 

once again, nsfw

Eggsy, truth be told, doesn’t actually like having sex in bathrooms. First of all, bathrooms generally have an unsanitary air about them. Besides that, the granite of the sinks always feel cold against his hips, there is the ever present fear of being walked in on and unlike what people might say, he actually really isn’t that much of an exhibitionist- and truth be told, he’s never liked the look of himself in the mirror mid coitus.

For David Budd, however, he suspects he might be up for anything.

- from do you ever dream of me. im actually proud of this fic and this series, i never usually write straight up porn or friends w benefits and i think it worked well in here. once again didnt get much traction but that was very of the norm for my kingsman fics lmfjgj

15.

It is on his fifth meeting with the therapist on site that she brings the issue up. The elephant in the room- or the bomb , David thinks morbidly. If asked, he can’t remember specifics about that day now. All he remembers is this- the burn of Julia’s picture in his wallet against his thigh, the Botticelli painting on the far wall and Miss Paulson’s face, severe and unsmiling.

“When you couldn’t reach Julia,” she says, after he finishes describing the feeling of running to Julia, the panic searing his chest as he’d prayed for his legs to work faster so he could do something, anything to reach her hand. “How did that make you feel?”

- from your haunted social scene. i genuinely... do not remember anything about this either helpfkjgjg,,, this has 55 comments tho which. Nice

16.

David brings her home on- in a move far too cliche for it to be reality- a stormy night. It’s in fact storming so hard the windowpanes shudder like leaves in the wind, droplets crashing against the glass in a cacophony so loud Eggsy more than once considers turning the radio all the way up to drown it out. He’d gone scrounging for David’s sweatshirts instead of his own halfway through, wincing intermittently at the flashes of thunder. At a particularly loud one JB had jumped up, squeaked in a very undoglike manner and skidded across the floor to cower beneath the sofa, only coming out when coaxed by Eggsy to do so. Officer Oatmeal had watched the proceedings from her regal place by the armchair, dozy eyed and blinking heavily.

- from a cat named lavender. from what i remember this was also my first try at bringing up trans eggsy

17.

He first appears at the black prince on a cold Monday evening, eyes like Frank Sinatra and lips arresting anyone’s gaze if they weren’t careful enough. He stood out too, clad in a respectable bomber jacket and boots that clicked against the tile rhythmically and loudly, a sort of organised, measured cacophony.

“Go and serve him,” Andrew said, fat and disinterested, seated behind the counter and idly flicking through bills, less than ten percent of which he pays Eggsy. “I’m busy.”

- from trust is left in lovers after all. i never continued this which is sad bc this did get a lot of attention... it was just v hard to keep the story going

18.

It usually rains cats and dogs in London but for some reason, the rain is heavier than usual today. The droplets splatter against the windows in a constant buzzing rhythm, the sound meshing together in a melody not altogether pleasant to the ears. It’s half past five and yet the light has to be kept on because that’s how dark the sky has gotten- thunder rolls like a loud crack, abrupt and deafening, causing Daisy to jump in her seat.

“Just a thunderstorm, flower,” Eggsy says. They’re seated at the dinner table, Eggsy going over her homework while David sits opposite them, hunched over his laptop as he attempts to finish a post mission report. Eggsy is half convinced he gave up ten minutes ago- he’s got his earbuds in and he hasn’t really typed anything in a while, eyes focused on the screen. His eyebrows are scrunched up in a glare that’s too adorable for his own good- and for Eggsy’s.

- from could feel like kryptonite. a lot of my kingsman fics are actually so much happier than my cherik ones... i should prob look into that rip

19.

“When you’re done lazing around you can come in, you dozy dog,” he tells Officer Oatmeal, who butts her nose into his knee. She’s the only one not on a diet in the house, Eggsy deeming her far too healthy and skinny to need one anyway. In fact, she’s under strict instructions by Eggsy to fatten up instead.

Once the animals are done feeding- Eggsy sporting a suspicious scratch on his left forearm- they settle down to eat their scrambled eggs and toast. David’s taken a large gulp of his scalding coffee when Eggsy says, all of a sudden, “So, I have a school reunion.”

- from gonna set this dance alight. don’t remember much about this either tbh

20. (the last one FINALLY)

It isn’t a big event or explosion that makes David realise he wants to see his father’s ring sitting pretty on Eggsy’s index finger. No teary confessions in the rain like in the rom coms Eggsy loves to rent out and sniffle his way through, or a fight that makes David see sense. In the end, it’s breakfast that cinches the deal for him.

The day had started out normally enough. David wakes up at eight like clockwork, the soft downy hair at the base of Eggsy’s neck tickling his nose with his arm locked tight around his waist. He’d yawned, exhausted- mostly because they’d stayed up very late into the night making good use of the bed- before standing up and shucking his shirt off to head for the shower. Eggsy had shifted in his sleep, mumbling something unintelligible, and the sight had been too endearing to resist so he’d bent down, pressing a kiss to his forehead and smiling when Eggsy groaned out loud.

- from lover boy rules. i actually started a lot of my kingsman fics in the same way which is rather awful of me. im glad thats changed with my xmen fics lmfjgjk. also this has 15 comments???? i dont even get that much attention with my xmcu fics these days... which is arguably a more active fandom... Hello

anyway that’s the end of it needless to say i do not know 10 other authors so im just gonna tag whoever i know rn: @hellfre , @queerneto, @ikeracity, @drinkingstars, @zebraljb

[the-evisceration-station]

What do you think book!addy’s feelings are towards beth? Even tho addy is the protagonist I still find her very hard to read. Which makes her interesting I guess Bc she’s very mysterious. I love and hate that a lot of the story is subtext haha

That’s a very interesting question and I’m sure everybody probably has a different answer for it, as Addy is such an ambiguous character and intentionally so, because she lies to readers as well as herself. Particularly book!Addy, who I do not believe is quite identical to TV!Addy, even if I do think the most important beats of her character remain the same. I’m going to answer this under the cut both because of potential spoilers and because this is probably going to get long.

In this essay, I will…

Well, I think much of the way Addy describes Beth is some of the way Addy genuinely sees her, rather than an entire farce. Beth being something almost goddess like, someone who knows all and always has some kind of agenda. I don’t think Addy’s actually lying to us when she describes viewing Beth in those ways, I think there is a major part of her that does see Beth as some kind of nearly divine entity.

I think she feels this way partially because Beth is something of a spooky kid, she’s violently protective of Addy to the point where “protective” crosses over into “possessive” territory. I also think Beth projects a powerful persona on purpose. Beth very carefully guards her vulnerabilities and she is, after all, Top Girl, the thing that Addy secretly wants to be. And that’s where I think Addy kind of confuses Beth with what Beth has, and what she thinks it means to have that. She thinks Beth is more powerful than she actually is, because Beth has the thing Addy wants and she believes she’d be more powerful herself, if she had it.

However, do I think Addy sometimes exaggerates about how powerful she sees Beth as?

Absolutely. Because Addy also reveals she knows Beth has vulnerabilities. She knows that laughing is Beth’s way of crying. She is fully aware of how detrimental and unhappy Beth’s home life is, another vulnerability. When she wants Beth to give her one more day before going to the cops, and asks her for it, she pleads, “for me,” because Addy knows that she, herself, is one of Beth’s weaknesses. So if Addy knows where the chinks in the armor are, chances are she doesn’t always see Beth as infallible as she acts like she does.

The fact that Addy knows she can get Beth to do what she wants with a “for me,” also implies that she’s aware that she’s the one who actually has more control in the relationship, which diminishes how godlike she constantly describes Beth as.

Look, I have seen some takes that describe the Addy/Beth relationship as “Addy has All The Power behind the scenes and Beth is just her pawn,” as well as “Beth has All The Power outright until Addy stands up for herself” and personally I don’t agree with either. I understand why people would come away with such interpretations, but I personally don’t think it’s either. I think Beth and Addy both have power in that relationship, and that there is push and pull between them. I actually feel that to insist one has all and one has none is to cheapen the complexity between them, the depths of the layers of this twisted relationship they’ve woven together like a tapestry.

However, I DO believe Addy has the lion’s share of the power. Not that Beth has none. I certainly think she has some, and she’s too aware of what Addy is like under the surface to ever be described as her pawn. But that I do feel that Addy has MOST of the power. Because Beth has more exploitable vulnerabilities in places Addy doesn’t. Because Beth will do anything for Addy, and Addy knows it, and Addy knows she can use it when she has to. Because when Beth goes too far, Addy can assert her quiet control and reel her back in line. Some of the other girls notice this much. They point it out more frequently in the show, but it’s book!Tacy who point-blank tells Addy that she’s more afraid of Addy than she is of Beth.

Hence, given that Addy has the lion’s share of the power, I think she has a tenancy to exaggerate how all-powerful she sees Beth as, because if she has to, she can control Beth’s power by proxy. Beth’s power isn’t an inevitability for her. Quite often, it’s even her asset.

What I do think almost feels like an inevitability for her, is her and Beth’s relationship. I actually think Addy has more internal conflict about this than she lets on. She is an unreliable narrator. She doesn’t tell us everything. What she does tell us, is what she wants us to know, and it’s dyed by how she wants us to see it. But I think it’s very interesting that after the fight at cheer camp, and the other girls think they’ll never be friends again, Addy’s just…of the mindset that well, of course they would. Because coming back together, being together is just what they are. Like it’s some force of nature, not a conscious choice. Like it is what it is, the same way gravity exists because it exists and when something is dropped, you can count on it to fall to the ground. Because gravity exists and things do not simply float away, it is not good, it is not bad, it is not fair nor unfair, it just fucking is. And Addy dismisses the other girls’ thoughts, because she thinks they could never understand. Well, I don’t think Addy really understands it either!

I think at this point in the book, Addy truly felt like what she and Beth had was an inevitability of a sort. I don’t think she wanted it to be. I think she genuinely wanted to move away from Beth already, but on this point, I don’t think she was lying to us. Relationships are complicated, codependent relationships specifically can feel very contradictory and confusing. And I think she failed to elaborate more on it, specifically because such feelings were confusing and contradictory, and she didn’t want to think about it any more than she had to. She didn’t want to look at it. There are many things Addy doesn’t like to look at.

Major YMMV on this one because it’s left incredibly ambiguous, but I personally do believe there was a point in time when Addy was in love with Beth. Addy is the one who kissed Beth. Addy is the one who initiated their borderline (or even, some people think it went that far, I personally don’t) sexual encounter.

“I started it, but I don’t even remember why or how,” is her input on her motivation. But when is Addy ever honest about her motives? Almost never, not even to herself.

Also, the hamsa bracelet. The story behind the little charm is that it’s the Hand of Fatima. Fatima was stirring a pot when her husband came home with a new wife, let the ladel slip from her fingers, stirred with her own hand, and didn’t even notice the pain because of how brokenhearted she was. Or, at least, that’s the version of the story presented in the book. The one I know of IRL is different, but for the purpose of discussing Dare Me book canon, I am using the symbolism of the version of the Hand of Fatima lore presented to us in the book.

Beth is Fatima in this story. Addy is the husband. The new wife is Colette. Fatima was the first wife. The husband married his first wife, chances are, he loved her at some point.

I think three things play into Addy no longer being in love with Beth.

1) Beth’s possessive behavior began to feel suffocating and drive Addy away.

2) Addy prioritizes ambition over love and accomplishing her goals wins out over any romance, at the end of the day.

3) Addy represses her sexuality and probably even holds some (unfair) resentment toward Beth for feeling attracted to Beth.

My gray faced friendo, I am going to repeat that: this is all just my take. I think in a subtext loaded book like Dare Me, people are bound to come away with over a hundred different interpretations. I am not the authority on Dare Me. That’s Megan Abbott. I’m not here to crap on anyone else’s interpretation if they feel different.

All of this is what I personally took away from the book and since you asked, that’s what I’m describing. I’ve been giving my own personal take throughout the entirety of this answer, of course, but what I’m going to describe going forward is a lot of me reading in between the lines with my magnifying glass, and may seem less coherent than the above. Okay, here we go.

Point #1: I feel like Beth’s possessive behavior began to drive Addy away, because it’s a lot to deal with. Beth gets dog leashes for all the girls on the squad at one point, but goes as far as to have Addy’s name embroidered on hers. Addy goes to another girl’s birthday party and when she gets home, low and behold, Beth is waiting at her house. RiRi outright refers to Addy as “Beth’s girl,” as if Addy belongs to Beth.

I think Addy even begins to feel like she does belong to Beth, in some ways, and becomes comfortable feeling that way. But eventually, she doesn’t want to feel that way anymore. Their relationship is extremely codependent, okay. I think in both the book and the show, it’s more obvious from Beth’s side, because we’ve reached the point in that relationship where Addy is beginning to pull away. Beth reflexively seems to cling on even tighter, because she feels it happening. But it’s absolutely codependent from Addy’s side too.

Throughout the book, there are many moments (I’m not going to comb for all of them, sorry dude, it’s almost 300 pages) where Addy behaves like she and Beth are an entity unto their own. Even as she’s moving away from her as she develops her bond with Colette, there are instances where Addy will describe sensing things inside Beth. There is even a moment where Addy thinks Beth is touching her ear (the ear Addy scarred, mind you) only to discover, no, she’s touching her own ear!

Plus, Addy feels like she needs others to verbalize her thoughts/feelings for her and for a long time, this person is Beth. Implying that not only does Addy rely on Beth to do such a thing for her, but she believes that Beth can know her thoughts accurately enough to do so.

Point #2: I think ambition outranks love for Addy, because her goals are her endgame. Addy is patient, Addy is deceptive. Addy likes the way power feels and I think it’s one of the reasons she gets so high on her relationship with Colette (even if it is an inappropriate and eventually damaging one). Colette makes Addy feel powerful, probably more powerful than she actually is. I’m going to repeat myself a bit here and even copy/paste some of my thoughts about this from a reply I left to a comment on Ao3 (that poor person, I went into a full on Addy rant) because I feel like what I said previously is relevant here.

*deep breath* When we begin the book/series, I personally believe like on some level, Addy does still have feelings for Beth. However, I do NOT think those feelings are as strong as they once were, and I don’t think they are feelings Addy wants to have. I think the remaining feelings Addy does have for Beth are mostly there because they’ve been in a codependent relationship for so long, one that consumes her identity, and in a relationship like that, even if you don’t want those feelings anymore, they’re difficult to move away from. Because at some point, you don’t really know who you are not just without that person, but without those feelings, even if you want to, even if wanting to is part of the reason you want to get rid of those feelings. Codependency is a strange animal, my friend.

Although Addy’s relationship with Colette was never mutually romantic nor canonically sexual, I do believe there was a part of Addy that was ‘killing’ her remaining feelings for Beth through that relationship. “Love is a kind of killing,” is one of the oft repeated lines of the book, and I’d even say it’s one of the themes. It is Beth who says it, and we see that she feels it too, her love for Addy is killing her. She nearly kills herself out of it (though I’d say other things impacted Beth enough to put her in such a state that suicide felt worth it, even if her feelings for Addy were the primary motive, again YMMV).

The Matt/Colette/Will dynamic is another example of love becoming a kind of killing. Matt kills Will for Colette. If we believe what she tells Addy, then he acted on his own in doing so and it was an accident. If we don’t believe her, she might’ve even been the little worm in Matt’s ear who told him to do it. Either way, he killed for love. None of the audience really cares for their hetero nonsense, because Matt is sexist and both Colette and Will are predatory people, but nonetheless, their debacle largely impacts the story. And it supports the idea that “love is a kind of killing.”

I believe love as a kind of killing is something Addy weaponizes for her own development. To her own detriment as well, because it ends up taking her to dangerous places.  Even so, I think Addy had/has some lingering feelings for Beth she uses forming a bond with Colette to metaphorically ‘kill’ inside herself. Like finishing off an already mortally wounded animal, if you will. This would also support “love is a kind of killing” as a recurring theme.

Addy’s relationship with Colette gave her a crutch and a new outlet, and Colette’s encouragement (while the audience knows its manipulation) also gave Addy affirmation for the way she was already feeling about Beth— that she wanted to distance herself from her and come into her own. In addition, Colette seemed to be ‘safer’ because Addy doesn’t have to compete with Colette.

The presence of specifically female socialization is very palatable in the book. The way the girls slut-shame each other. The way other people see them, the feminine appeal of cheerleading. Others take the glitz and the glam of it at face value without understanding the more masculinely-coded things that go into it, like dedication and athleticism. Colette is a villain, no doubt, but you have to give the devil her due, and her circumstances are as miserable and empty as they are because she finds herself boxed into traditional feminine roles she isn’t suited for. Although the show is not the book, and I will maintain that I don’t feel they are identical entities, I do think Willa had a lot of interesting input on this in her Build interview, alongside Taveeta and Abbott. Check it out if you have the time—

Wait, where was I?

Right, right, female socialization in Dare Me. Okay, continuing on.

I feel that female socialization also plays an important role in the relationships between the characters, namely the Beth/Addy/Colette dynamic. We live in a culture where women are socialized to tear each other down and compete with each other even outside of the athletic arena. Combine that with the athletic, cutthroat world of cheerleading and you’ve got yourself a powder keg of an environment where those competitive feelings are going to come out full force. Addy, wanting what she wants, is inevitably going to have to view Beth as a rival, romantic feelings or otherwise aside.  

Colette feels like a ‘safer’ object of attraction because her cheerleading days are over.

Colette does not pose a threat to Addy’s thirst for power, she can only help her achieve it. I definitely think the lack of Colette posing a threat to Addy’s goals plays into how comfortable she feels with her. I also think, to a teenager with dreams of grandeur already feeling suffocated in a relationship with her peer, this is where the age gap appeals to Addy even as it disturbs us readers.

Again, Addy doesn’t have to compete with Colette, because Colette has aged out of ‘cheerleader’ and into ‘coach.’ Colette is a seemingly self-sufficient adult (initially) who doesn’t spin out the way Beth does, and depend on Addy as heavily as Beth does. Colette represents the agency Addy covets, and feels nearer to when with her.

I mean, we all know things change once a dead body is brought into that dynamic and we all know that Colette is emotionally manipulating Addy for her own purposes. But I’m not talking about Colette’s perspective, I’m talking about Addy’s before all the crime scene hullabaloo. What happens after the night with Will changes things, but up until that point, I think this is much of what Addy got out of her bond with Colette, no matter how inappropriate a bond it was. No matter how much it shouldn’t have been happening.

I will say, I don’t believe Addy ever fully realizes the extent to which Colette was manipulating her, although it’s clear as the book goes on, she realizes some of it. She picks up on things that don’t add up, acknowledges some red flags she initially ignored, and refers to her as a liar at one point.

Wait JJ, why are you talking about Addy and Colette? The question was about Addy and Beth!

Yes, but I think you cannot always separate the two. Because I think many of the developments that occur in the book between Addy and Beth, and the way in which they occur, play out as they do because of Colette’s entry into the story. Abbott said herself that Dare Me is a love triangle. A triangle is connected by all three sides, okay, continuing on…

I think there are things Addy deliberately sought out in her relationship with Colette— I will repeat this because again, I personally view this as part of the theme and part of the answer to your question— including ‘killing’ what remained of her feelings for Beth. I think it’s also very clear that she thinks Colette is the key to getting what she wants and accomplishing her own goals.

But I would go the extra mile and say she projects some of her feelings for Beth onto Colette. I’ve brought this up before, but I will elaborate more about that now.

I think Addy is earnestly attracted to Colette, just as Colette. Yes, even book!Addy. It’s more subtle in the book, but contrast the way she describes Jordy to the way she describes Colette. Her fascination with the way Colette looks when Will is fucking her. It speaks of attraction and that’s perfectly fine. It’s normal when teens have crushes on adults, what isn’t normal is when adults indulge those crushes. When adults pick up on the cues Colette does, and choose to fan the flames instead of snuffing them out. That’s the part that’s fucking scary.

But I also think she projects her feelings for Beth onto Colette and I think that helps explain why Addy latched onto Colette so quickly. When Addy messes around with Jordy, she does it because Colette points him out. And when she tells Colette about it later and Colette doesn’t even seem to remember him, Addy is taken aback, almost offended… and yet, just a couple of pages later, she’s disparaging the girls who do similar things for Beth.

“…hitching jeans low and flashing thongs at security guards. Beth likes to make these girls run.”

Colette and Beth also share some notable similarities. Both can be cold, cutthroat, have calculating thought processes. Colette even looks like Beth in the book. Addy also sort of tries to recreate a ‘better’ version of the bond she had with Beth, with Colette and this is where I stop and I’m like, man, what a weird freakin’ kid. Addy, smh. But you see it, right?

Addy flips for her coach like she flips for her captain. Ties the same bracelet Beth once tied on her wrist onto Colette’s wrist. Does the thing with Jordy very comparable to the things other girls do when they’re trying to impress Beth. Uses Colette specifically when she wants to become her own person, but can’t quite do so yet, because she’s so used to her lifelong codependence with Beth.

And you know how earlier I mentioned that Addy can control Beth when she has to? How the control Addy has over Beth is a quiet, deceptive thing?

Well I think that’s something that Addy projects onto Colette too. Addy is so used to being able to assert that quiet control and maintain the relational power (which is not the same kind of power Addy is seeking endgame) with Beth, that when she begins using Colette as Beth’s substitute, she doesn’t realize she doesn’t have it anymore. I think that’s one of the things that gets her into hot water later, because she absently assumes she’s going to be ‘safe’ with Colette the way she is with Beth, have that ability that she does with Beth to reel things back before they go too far…but she doesn’t.

Addy uses Colette as Beth substitute. But Colette is not Beth. Beth is spooky. Addy is scary. Colette is terrifying. Addy can’t take control of Colette the way she can of Beth. Colette is an adept master manipulator, an adult who has years of experience that Addy lacks. Colette is better at her game than Addy is at hers, and Addy gets in deep shit partly because she doesn’t recognize that.

I would actually compare the Colette/Addy situation a bit to the Kurtz/Beth situation in the show. There are things Beth wants out of Kurtz, she talks to him because she plans to use him, and it inevitably has devastating consequences for her. Kurtz is a predator. And he’s better at his game than Beth is at hers.

The situations are not identical. The consequences are not the same. But both are exemplary of teens being naive fools and thinking they have some control in situations they definitely do not, with people they couldn’t hope to.

Addy gets what she thinks she wants in the end. I’ve addressed why I think this isn’t as cracked up to be as she thinks it is in another post, but that’s not really relevant here. Addy chooses to pursue having her own power above all, and it’s Beth who winds up giving it to her, not Colette. But I think Addy needed to eliminate her feelings for Beth to actually get there, or even if she didn’t actually, it’s what she felt she had to do and most of those feelings were deteriorating already because of Beth’s possessive behavior.

Point #3: I personally believe Addy represses her sexuality. And I do think that plays into how she views Beth, both when she had feelings for her, and when those feelings began to die. I feel Addy harbors some subconscious resentment toward Beth along the lines of a “I don’t want to be like this, but you make me feel this way, and I hold it against you” type deal. However, again, I think that’s a subconscious feeling rather than something Addy is cognitively aware of, and actually, I don’t think it’s separate from how she’s fed up of Beth suffocating her. I believe it only feeds into that feeling and makes it stronger, enhancing her frustration.

Addy is often very cruel when she describes Beth. I think there’s a bit more to it than the inevitability of viewing Beth as a rival outside her control and somewhat within it, the possessive behavior Beth suffocates her with.

I think forgetting that she and Beth had a borderline sexual encounter was repression on her part. I also think this line;

“…and who need to talk of such wonders? We nestle them away, deep in the fury at the center of us, where things can be held tightly, protected, and secretly cherished as a special notion we once held, and then had to stow away,”

wasn’t just about Beth. I think it was about Beth and just like, pursuing girls in general. At least openly. I’d go out on a limb and say another one of the things that drew Addy to Colette was because Colette was a ‘safer’ objection of attraction in the sense that the likelihood of something happening between them was very low. Fantasize safely from the closet, kinda deal. But maybe Addy’s less aware of her sexuality, or at least confronting it than I’m giving her credit for. I mean, she looked up RiRi’s skirt and was all like, “why are other girl’s panties more interesting than your own?”

Addy. Addy, baby. Why do you think.

Oh, and I think Addy kissed RiRi without telling us! At the marines’ party, Addy and RiRi are hanging and then this scene happens.

“She’s fumbling with her phone, trying to send a text. Because it’s all okay because these are Will’s men and nothing bad could ever happen, one of them is pressing our heads together, wanting us to kiss.

“Always ready,” he says. “Always there.””

Then RiRi hugs Addy and starts in about how she couldn’t be close to Addy before, because of Beth. But that’s the thing. It just has that creepy ass adult man trying to make these teen girls kiss, then goes into some dialogue, Addy never actually explains what happens in that moment. If the guy made them kiss or if he let go of them. If either of them protested or just went along with it.

I personally believe they did kiss and I believe Addy doesn’t mention it for two reasons.

1) She’s trying to convince herself and us readers that Will is safe to be around, ergo his men must be too. But some grown ass dude physically trying to force teen girls to kiss each other is obviously a fucking creeper. Will is also a fucking creeper.

2) She enjoyed kissing RiRi and doesn’t care to elaborate on what enjoying that was like, because doing so would mean confronting her sexuality. Her sexuality being one of the many things Addy doesn’t really confront.

Wow, that was a long ass essay. In this essay, I done did. So that is my interpretation of Addy’s feelings for Beth. Feel free to take ‘em or leave ‘em, maybe we don’t feel the same way and that’s totally cool. But you asked, so I answered. That is what I feel is going on with all that mess there.

This essay probably has a shit ton of typos and for that I apologize, but I can’t comb through all this now. This long as hell and I’m hungry, I need to go eat. 

[excusetheconfusion]

Day One

It's been a full twenty four hours and I have experienced a whirlwind of emotions.

I've been angry and sad, I've been confused and regretful. I'm not sure what my actual emotions are, honestly.

It's been a long time since I've felt this. Honestly, I've never really felt what this is.

This is different.

In the past, I was full of hate and anger. I was happy to escape because I felt trapped.

That's not what I feel right now.

I think this is what it is to have an adult relationship end, or pause, or whatever it is.

When two adults can actually agree that now isn't the right time.

It is even worse now I think.

Before I was so blinded by infatuation that I couldn't see what was going on around me until it was too late.

That's not what happened this time.

This time was different.

This time there was communication and attempts.

This time, there is still love and no hard feelings...just disappointment.

My chest hurts, it feels like literal heartbreak.

I listened to a podcast today and it said that we would rather have "familiar hurt than unfamiliar pain".

It is so true.

I would rather be in the repeat of the cycle knowing exactly how it will play out compared to this.

This is the unknown.

I don't know what I'll feel next.

I don't know what is normal to feel next.

I'd imagine it is like the stages of grief.

Did you know, that a break up does to your brain what a cocaine addition does?

You get addicted to a person. Your body literally craves them.

Also, did you know that there were studies done on individuals who recently went through a break up? The studies included showing them a picture of their ex and it actually showed functions in the part of the brain that shows physical pain.

Literal heart break.

That feeling in your chest is the flight or fight reaction, but you're standing still so everything expands. Your heart beats fast, your adrenaline releases, and your body doesn't know what to do.

Then it's anxiety.

Women are 60% more likely to experience physical pain after a break up.

There are different phases to a break up.

One of the phases, usually the first one is where you only remember the good. Your brain has a way of shutting out all the not so good memories.

One of the other phases is losing confidence. You tend to lose confidence because you base your confidence off your relationship, well when that relationship fails, you feel like your confidence is gone too.

I've never been codependent physically. As in needed money, shelter, etc from a person. But, you get used to the routine.

Wake up-morning phone call

Through out the day-snap chat, texting, gossiping

Night-dinner, movies, laying together

Repeat

Well, now that cycle is over.

Now you have to find a whole new way to spend your 24 hours.

No more plus one's to a wedding. No more double dates.

It sucks.

It really sucks.

But there is a saying that everyone knows...if you love someone, let them go.

A part to that, that most people don't want to tell themselves is that if you love someone, remember to love yourself more.

Sometimes, you have to love yourself so much that you have to walk away from something that you love.

50% of all couples who break up end up back together.

17% of them split up again.

15% actually stay together.

Who knows what the future holds, but for the alone time that is in-between now and then, there should be reflection.

Being alone is the time for you to learn who you are again.

Learn what makes you happy and what makes you sad.

Learn what your boundaries are and learn what your expectations are.

Learn what makes you tick.

Learn how to control yourself.

Learn what your definition of love is.

It's not easy, it never is.

Change is scary too.

But sometimes change is good.

Regardless of the outcome, you have to make the present count.

Not to waste the alone time you have.

Just in the last 24 hours, I've listened to hours of podcasts, I've googled so much about relationships and break ups.

I've cried, a lot.

I've sat in the hot tub and just drank water and tried to listen to my body.

I've zoned out.

I've vented.

I've made jokes and I've sulked.

I've reread messages that I know will make me sad.

I've looked at pictures that I know will upset me.

I've spent the last 24 hours feeling.

You have to feel before you can heal.

Healing doesn't come overnight.

The average time it takes to get over a relationship is 3 months.

And if you walk away in love, chances are you will probably always love that person.

They say though, to not think of that underlying love as a burden though. To think of it as a gift.

That is your humanity and passion.

That is you allowing yourself to feel and appreciate things for what they are or for what they were or for what they may end up being.

Life is weird.

We meet people and fall in love.

You almost never just walk into love, it's always falling.

One day it's fine and the next day you can't imagine life without that person. You're imagining the American dream.

Wedding, a house, that white fence around the yard.

And then it turns out that isn't the plan.

Part of looking at this like an adult is accepting all the emotions you're feeling. Letting yourself feel and grieve.

Letting yourself heal so you can be a better partner in the future.

Some of it is embarrassing because with today's time, everyone see the profile pictures change, the relationship status change, and the photos that you don't post together anymore.

But, most of the time, we only share the good. We show the highlights to the world, we don't want to show when we are unsuccessful.

This time, I was unsuccessful.

I wasn't able to make things work.

And that's okay.

As humans, we will not win every race.

But, you dust yourself off and try again.

Sometimes you run the same race until you do win, or until you realize that there are too many obstacles.

But you don't know until you try.

Maybe this is another chapter in the book that will continue on, or maybe this is the end and a whole new story will start.

Like I said, we can't predict the future and we won't know until it happens, or doesn't happen.

We are human. We have emotions and needs. We have our own struggles. Sometimes you can lean on the person next to you and work through it together and sometimes you have to step away.

There are no right and wrong choices when it comes to stuff like this.

If there were, then no one would be divorced, no one would be unfaithful, not one would ever be unhappy.

This is trial and error and that's just part of it.

You can't let yourself turn cold.

You have to keep loving and keep giving chances.

You have to try again, or you have to go on that next blind date.

You can't lose faith.

The universe has a strange way of making things work out.

Sometimes, God doesn't answer what you're praying for right know because he knows there is something better in store. Whether it be with someone else, or with the same person but just the better version of them.

Sometimes it's right person but wrong time.

And sometimes it's right time wrong person.

Just remembering that things will be okay. It's going to hurt, but that's part of the human experience. Without pain, we wouldn't recognize love.

[ronsenburg]

i saw this post and IMMEDIATELY started writing an essay, so I moved it here so as not to clutter up someone else’s post...........

it absolutely blows my mind that, today in 2021, i honestly can’t remember what’s canon from the turnabout serenade case, what i read in a fanficition, and what is my own personal HC. like, it’s been more than a decade since i played the case for the first time and it’s probably been 5ish years since the last time i played AJ (definitely forgot to play it again before writing youngblood which is.... contributing to this) so i really don’t know if what goes on in my head is accurate, but, over the years, i’ve come up with a Lot of Thoughts, which i’ll discuss below. 

tldr; it’s all about power (the desire for, the subversion of, the need to maintain), but if you’d like the specifics, here you go:

daryan: i think the explanation that he did it for “the money” is a line. please don’t mistake me, daryan is an asshole and a murderer, im not discounting that, but in court ive always thought that he was playing the part that everyone- especially klavier- is expecting of him. he’s the bad guy. might as well make it a finale for the books.

i’ve always seen daryan and klavier as opposite sides of the same coin when it comes to family and career aspirations. where i imagine klavier came from a well off and well loved family before his parents died, i see daryan from a working class, difficult upbringing. i read a few papers on the psychology of children/parenting style of police officers and decided early on that daryan’s dad was also a cop. his mother is either dead or (more likely) left them early on. dad coped by working a little too hard, gambling/drinking a little too much, and was overall not around a lot and kind of an authoritarian/controller when he was. it left daryan with a lot of anger he had to cope with, about what it means to be a cop, the idea of a “just cause” and the ends justifying the means, and an issue with authority (which is laughable, considering what a bully he turned out to be. sometimes we emulate our parents unintentionally; it’s the only thing we have to model our behavior on). so daryan started off at a disadvantage. klavier started off loved and supported and surrounded by expensive belongings, but the death of his parents and the subsequent emotional and financial abuse by his newly appointed guardian/brother left him in a similar place by the time he and daryan met. i think it was probably the foundation for their bond, and i think it’s why klavier decided to become a prosecutor instead of following in his brother’s footsteps and why daryan ultimately decided to enter law enforcement as well. i think they had a lot of optimistic, idealistic thoughts on being better than the people that hurt them, on utilizing the law to make the world a better place. i don’t think klavier ever conceived that kristoph could have wanted him in the prosecutors office as another pawn to play, and i don’t think he realized how fluid daryan’s morality could be.

shipping alert—you guys know me, im crazy for the idea of a “best friends to on again off again lovers to tenuous coworkers to bitterly disappointed in but still harboring feelings for the other person despite being on opposite sides” dynamic between daryan and klavier. i honestly can’t separate the ship from the case and im sorry about it. if you read youngblood you know that i think daryan started to resent klavier pretty early on, when they were still together, when the band was still successful, because klavier was able to move forward and work through the issues of his past while daryan was seemingly stuck. yes, daryan had made detective and the gavinners were a hit, he’d risen above his initial social standing and thrown off the control his father, he had money and fame and a future. but everything he had was because of klavier. daryan needed klavier, emotionally, morally, financially. but even when klavier was professing his love for daryan, both privately and in the form of chart topping songs, he didn’t need daryan. it was obvious (and of course, healthy, but how do children of abuse learn what a healthy relationship looks like without help? especially when the only relationships you’ve ever had are codependent and, in some ways, just as toxic?) and so things spiraled. daryan got possessive and angry again and klavier got distant and they broke up and got back together and broke up and didn’t get back together but kept ending up back in each other’s arms for comfort and for support and because how the hell do you move on when the person you’ve been in love with since you were 15 is sitting next to you on a tour bus and is also your partner in a homicide case and singing songs he wrote about you on stage in front of thousands of screaming fans?

okay, shipping glasses off, sorry. but no matter how you look at their relationship, daryan’s promotion out of homicide was probably the most distance they’d had from each other in years, as it removed a large chunk of the daily “working relationship” aspect. and without klavier there to act as a moral compass, it was likely easier to slip back into his earlier thoughts about what constitutes justice and his intense hatred of being pushed around by someone who has more power than you. so enter the chief justice with a son who is sick, dying even, but can’t get the medicine he needs because there’s a government out there telling them no. The reasons are arbitrary: the medicine could be used as a poison and can’t be found anywhere else so it might come back to bite the country in the ass if it’s misused by criminals. newsflash: pretty much all medicine is poisonous if it isn’t used correctly, should we stop using penicillin entirely because some people might be allergic to it? they’ve essentially condemned a whole bunch of people to death because they’re worried about their reputation. and that doesn’t sit well with daryan, who is caught up remembering the bullshit justifications his dad would spout when he knocked him around, that kristoph would give when withholding every single penny of money klavier was entitled to until he agreed to do what kristoph wanted. it isn’t right, it isn’t fair and unfair laws shouldn’t have to be upheld, especially when they’re the unfair laws of a country you most definitely did not swear to uphold and protect. it was never about money, though daryan agrees to take it when the chief offers it to him, more for his comfort level than for daryan’s need or desire. it’s about justice and putting a bully in it’s place with a (seemingly) victimless crime that should be so easy given his role in the international division of criminal affairs and klavier’s sudden hard on for the country of borginia. seriously, how could this have been any more straightforward? daryan is capable of murder, though. all cops are. and if it came down to a “them or me” shootout, of course he’d pull the trigger. 

machi: when you come from nothing, the desire to have something of your own is overwhelming. the idea that machi is famous and financially set is disingenuous; he is not individually famous, he is Lamiroir’s “blind” pianist. yes, she views him as a son and seems to care deeply for him, but his main purpose in her life is to perpetuate a lie. machi has been abandoned before; what will happen to him if lamiroir suddenly remembers who she was in the past? what if she has a family and a true son of her own and has no use for him? what if their secret is found out and the public rejects him for his role in it? he is 14. what does he know about being provided for? about contracts and trust funds and royalties? he ended up in an orphanage originally because he was unwanted, and that led to a life of poverty and hardship. abandonment issues are rooted in fear and are rarely logical. i find it far easier to believe that machi did it for the money, but more for the power money might have given him towards independence in an unfeeling and capitalist world.

kristoph: i won’t get into this, because this is supposed to be about daryan and machi and the guitar’s serenade, and kristoph is not really involved in that at all. but i think everything that kristoph has ever done in the game, good or bad, is rooted in a pathological need to constantly be in control. i think that kristoph and klavier both have very intense personalities that they have sought to control over the course of their lives for the sake of their careers. kristoph believes that to be a good lawyer, you need to play your cards close to your chest, that to show your hand is to expose a weakness that the enemy can exploit, that to show no weaknesses at all places you in a position of power. klavier believes that to show his true self, to display his weaknesses and fears to the public, would result only in their rejection. as such, they both wear masks of their own creation even under the most intense of pressures: kristoph as pleasant and calm, klavier as magnetic and dynamic. note the primary difference in their rational? klavier wants to be wanted, while kristoph wants power. and power corrupts, after all. once you have it, what could be more overwhelming than the idea that you might lose it all? it can drive even the most rational people to commit acts of passionate irrationality in the name of holding on to that power. and kristoph has so many pieces involved in his strategy to maintain.  

[kryptidkat]

Now I'm curious. Does ghoul have faves? Kobra? Party? What about the Girl

Oof I spent way too much time on this and then didn’t proofread it….but here u go. (For the rest of the Four I’m excluding the Girl again, because she’s still so young that she has a very different relationship with them than they have with each other.) 

KOBRA

For Kobra, you almost have to exclude Poison from the start, because from being raised together and sharing so much of life, they’re on the same wavelength to where they can have whole conversations without saying a word. However, Poison can be loud — and obnoxious with razor-sharp precision like any good brother is  — so Kobra often needs space, even from him. It literally just depends what mood he’s in, who he most likes to spend time with on any given day. If he’s feeling mischievous, Ghoul is the obvious choice for a partner in crime. (Those two will also rag on each other incessantly, but it’s all in good fun and they’re pretty well attuned by now to when they need to back off before they hit an actual nerve.) And Jet, a man of relatively few words himself, is great for just being in the same room with while doing your own thing. (And once Kobra warmed up to him? Jet quickly became one of his favorite huggers in the world.) If you straight-up asked Kobra, though, he’d just snort, because he doesn’t even have to think about it, and because you should already know. No matter how unbearable his brother can be, it’s always Poison. 

POISON

Of course we have to start with Kobra, here. Poison perhaps has more of a bent toward protective than companionable feelings for Kobra, but he still feels incredibly close to him. They’re so close that you rarely see them physically side by side when they’re hanging out. More often than not, they will be on opposite sides of the room and merely sending occasional looks that will have the other making a face or outright laughing like there’s an actual verbal conversation going on that only they can hear. That said, Kobra can be moody quite often and won’t speak to anybody at all, not even to Poison by telepathy or whatever the hell it is that they can do, and gets even more moody if Poison tries to cheer him up and make him come do something with him. (That or he’ll ramble for hours about something Poison couldn’t give less of a shit about, like lizards or the care and feeding of succulents or different kinds of bike tires and how they respond on different terrains….)  So however borderline codependent they may be, it’s not an end-all be-all and their relationship doesn’t come at the expense of their relationships with other crewmembers. 

It’s nearly impossible to rile Jet. Poison knows, because Poison has tried. This discovery would make most people more comfortable around Jet; Poison finds it uncanny and infuriating. No one should be that unflappable. (He’s determined to find more of Jet’s buttons, so that’s kind of a subconscious ongoing mission of his.) However, if Poison’s feeling unspecifiably fragile, (and therefore acting the most assholeish), Jet is a steadying presence, as big and sturdy and unmovable as a joshua tree. For this, Poison is secretly glad Jet is unofficially the actual leader of the crew. And yet Poison’s never quite shaken the feeling that Jet is always…watching him. Not judging him—just trying to figure him out, see under the Party Poison mask, predict if he’s going to blow up at someone or fall into a panic in a given circumstance. Poison’s never been sure if this is actually the case or just his imagination. 

Ghoul can take whatever you give him and throw it right back. His addition to the crew was actually a godsend for everybody else, because Poison finally had an outlet for what seemed like an infinite amount of pent-up aggression. More often than not, they can be found wrestling on the floor somewhere without check, like they’re genuinely trying to kill each other (the rest of the crew have learned it’s best to just step around them), or screaming insults at each other. What’s more jarring is when they’re both being amicable. They skip making up entirely; there’s nothing to make up. (When Kobra first noticed Poison had started letting Ghoul touch up his hair, the two of them were on the receiving end of frequent horrified, wary side-eyed looks for a full week before he seemed to be satisfied that this was as far as things were going to go.). They were made for cuddling each other — they’re most alike in size of everyone at the diner, so they love hugging and snuggling once they’ve exhausted their excess frustration. 

GHOUL

Ghoul, who’s still trying to learn gentleness for the first time (it’s easy with the Girl, but a little more difficult with everyone else), is grudgingly fascinated how desert-hardened Jet can be so strong and yet remain so in control of that strength. Jet is fucking tough, tough as nails, but Ghoul’s never seen him use brute force on anyone besides a drac. Even at Ghoul’s worse, Jet has never lashed out at him. That’s nice. More than Ghoul deserves, certainly. The other nice thing about Jet is that he lets Ghoul be, much like the crew treats predator animals they encounter when they’re out in the open after dark. A desertborn attitude — live and let live. Jet doesn’t pry, doesn’t ask questions. Doesn’t try to change him. Ghoul’s grateful for that. 

Kobra is like, 12. And what a weirdo. Ghoul doesn’t get him at all. He has to respect the kid, though, because despite his quirks Kobra is a keen strategist, a formidable prank partner, and not scared of getting the shit beaten out of him — whether it’s in a fight or a bike accident or whatever. Not to mention he’s got a helluva pokerface, and a dark, sardonic sense of humor to rival Ghoul’s own. So yeah, Ghoul likes Kobra just fine. 

Ghoul trusts Poison completely, full stop. He’s not sure how much Poison does. There’s a huge, scary amount of trust between them, he knows, but he gets the feeling Poison has many more layers he still isn’t ready to show Ghoul. Which is fair, because some things Ghoul doesn’t want to bring up, either. (Not because it’s Poison. Poison would never laugh, or dismiss him, or judge. Ghoul just doesn’t want to think about certain things, let alone talk about them.) When they first met, Poison saved his life, probably (Ghoul maintains to himself he would’ve been fine even without his help), which under normal circumstances would’ve made Ghoul hate Poison’s guts forever. But Poison never acted like Ghoul owed him anything. As soon as Ghoul was well enough to take it, he treated Ghoul with the same abrasive combativeness he did everyone else. And Ghoul loved him for it. Poison never pulled punches, with him. That was what made Ghoul ultimately come to trust Poison with his softer side, too, oddly enough. 

THE GIRL

Jet is strong and smart and big. He can lift the Girl off the ground with one hand and he knows everything about how to not get killed in the desert, which is really important. Being the biggest means he’s the best for climbing up, which is also important. And even though he only has one eye anymore, he’s a killer shot. He’s super dangerous for bad guys and can even throw whole people across a room! He’s always nice to the Girl and Party and Kobra and Ghoulie, though. 

Kobra is so cool. He even gave the Girl a pair of sunglasses, so she could be cool too. Kobra knows everything about bikes and computers and martial arts, and he’s even started teaching her some sick moves. (She’s still too small to ride a bike, though.) She appreciates how Kobra tells things like they are, even though he still does his darndest to shield her from actually seeing things like they are when they’re out running the zones. It’s hard to tell what he’s thinking sometimes, but she guesses that’s just part of being cool. 

Ghoul is so fun. Which is fitting, given his full name, but yeah — he lets the Girl do the really fun stuff. At least when Jet isn’t watching. He knows everything about blowing stuff up and making things catch on fire. It doesn’t get much funner than that! And yet there’s something about the way Ghoul looks at her from a distance, sometimes. Like he’s seeing somebody else. It’s kind of creepy, but it happens rarely enough that she’s never mentioned it. 

Party is…a lot of things. He’s a really good artist, and a good teacher of it, too. He’s even taken the Girl out to do graffiti before, not just paint on the diner walls. He can be scary sometimes, but never in her direction. When they’re in public and he jumps up onto something and starts talking really loud, everyone shuts up and listens and does whatever he says. His eyes can get scary when he’s like that (if he’s angry, not just excited). However, if he catches the Girl watching him and remembers, afterward, he’ll usually shoot her a wink so she’ll know everything is okay. And he’s never given the Girl a reason to believe he’d ever turn that anger on her. Sometimes after a clap he gives hugs so tight they hurt, but the Girl isn’t bothered by that. The only thing that bothers her about Party is that he reminds her of someone, occasionally — in a fleeting expression, in the tilt of his head, in a smile. She’s never been able to put a finger on who.