#teens shoulder just before the video becomes useless

[mutteredmadness-ninjapanda16]

This takes place not too long after that post with Tucker and Riddler on the train.

(He got away from Red Robin and that teen -and Red Hood when did he get there?!- when the train has a minor derailment)

So yes, The Riddler is expecting it to be the bats and birds to be after his tail, he wasn’t expecting that teen to appear.

(Gotham sees The Riddler be interrupted in his speech to the bats and birds. Sees The Riddler freeze at the sight of a teen. Red beanie, battered bag, scuffed shoes, people think the teen’s an Ally kid, they don’t think outsider. At least not until neon green 1′s and 0′s start running across the feed.)

Short DPXDC Prompts #638

The Riddler thinks this might be his best puzzle yet. Clues are scattered through out the city and everything is put in place. He expected Batman to burst through the door, not a handful of civilians holding his riddles and armed to the teeth with green and white weapons.

[valleyrunearchives]

Binary

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences Fandom: Boku No Hero Academia/My Hero Academia Pairings: Aizawa Shouta/Yamada Hizashi Warnings: Graphic Depictions of Violence

Chapter 25/?

“Binary code is a series of zeroes and ones strung together in a specific sequence. On paper, it’s useless. Annoying. Worthless. But put that same string of zeroes and ones into a computer, and suddenly it’s a language far more complex than the human mind can comprehend. I was the same way. The world decided I wasn’t good enough in the physical plane, so I went digital. That’s why I chose the name Binary. And you should be very,” He smirks at the underground hero on the screen, “Very afraid of the reach I have here. Aizawa Shouta.”

Or

Midoriya Izuku is tired of the world treating him like nothing. So he decides to becoming a hacker to show the world that nothing can be anything.

Featuring Midoriya Izuku as the Genius Hacker Aizawa Shouta as the problem child wrangler Yamada Hizashi as the moral support to his husband Tsukauchi Naomasa as the man who needs a long vacation PLEASE Shinsou Hitoshi as the intentionally adopted one Toga Himiko as the unintentionally adopted one Dabi as the really didn’t want to be adopted one but he guesses this is his life now and Nedzu as the Rat God of UA

Previous | First | Next

Click here to Read on AO3!

They’re all in the living room with Izuku playing video games on one of their handheld consoles while Himiko paints Hitoshi’s nails black like he asked when it happens. Dabi comes in from picking up a few groceries at the nearby market holding three envelopes. “Yo,” he calls to them, “You guys all got letters. Return addresses all say they’re from UA.” 

Izuku freezes before he tosses down the console - gently, of course - onto the coffee table to jump up from the couch, screaming, “THEY’RE HERE!”

He snatches them from Dabi’s hand - who takes no offense and just heads to the kitchen to put the groceries away - and takes them over to Himiko and Hitoshi, tossing each one their respective letter. He flops down on the couch next to them, staring at his own letter reverently. He’s still staring at it when he whispers, “You guys go first… I want to stare at it for just a bit longer…”

“You know you got in though,” Hitoshi tells him while still opening his envelope. 

“Yeah but… I just never thought I’d get to this point. I’ve always hoped I would but I didn’t think it would actually happen. I just want to bask in it for a bit longer.” 

Hitoshi shrugs and shakes the envelope to empty its contents into his hand. He makes a noise of confusion as a small disk falls into his hand instead of a letter. “It’s a holorecorder. Nedzu prefers to send acceptances through them because they’re more personal. Place it on the table and hit the button on the top,” Izuku tells him without looking away.

Hitoshi follows his instructions. When he hits the button on the top of the holorecorder, All Might pops up on it. “Ew,” The three teens intoned at the sight of him. 

“Greetings, Shinsou Hitoshi-kun!” the number one hero exclaims loudly on the recording.

“EW!” Dabi shouts from the kitchen as soon as he hears All Might’s voice. 

Izuku listens with half a mind as All Might tells Hitoshi’s score and lets him know he got into class 1-A. Himiko shrieks happily and shakes the purple haired teen’s shoulder excitedly. Meanwhile, Hitoshi’s grin is so wide when All Might welcomes him to his ‘hero academia.’ Himiko and Izuku cheered loudly in congratulations as Dabi shouted from the kitchen, “Way to go, Toshi!” 

He mumbles thanks to all of them. Izuku then nudges Himiko, telling her it was her turn. She agrees and tears open her envelope using her teeth. A bit unhinged of her but go off, Izuku guesses. She tips the holorecorder out onto the table immediately and presses the button. All Might once again shows up. “Still Ew,” they all intone again.

The same thing is basically a repeat of Hitoshi’s message with the exception being that she got into class 1-B. It ends again with All Might welcoming her to her ‘hero academia.’ She squeals happily and turns to Izuku, “1-B, Izuku! I got into 1-B! Just like you hoped! I get to learn from Vlad King!” 

Izuku grins and congratulates her. Dabi’s hand comes from behind the couch to ruffle her hair fondly, “Good job, Himi! Alright, Zu. Your turn now, Mister ‘I got first place to spite my bully.’”

Dabi comes to sit in the armchair next to the couch as Izuku tears open his envelope. His holorecorder is also set onto the table and Izuku presses the button to play it. It’s still All Might but his face has a much different expression on it. 

“Must I do this, Nedzi-san?” All Might asks wearily. 

“Oh yes! It was insisted upon with your hiring that you do all acceptance recording for the applicants!” Nedzu’s voice comes from off screen.

All Might winces and says in a less enthusiastic tone, “Greetings, Midoriya Izuku-kun. It is with great joy that I let you know you passed the UA entrance exam with one hundred and nine points, giving you first place over all applicants who participated in the exam.”

“Not to mention the highest written score on the first part of the exam ever seen!” Nedzu added in from the side again. 

“Yes… That too…” Both Hitoshi and Himiko snorted a laugh at the face All Might pulled at that. 

“So it is with great… pride-” 

“Oh woooow pride for someone who isn’t himself or someone who has a powerful destructive quirk… Shocking and totally believable…” Himiko mutters sarcastically with a roll of her eyes. Hitoshi snickers at it. 

“-That we offer you a spot in UA’s class 1-A. And even though I think it’s a highly irresponsible idea to allow you into the hero course at all given your... Status-”

“Quirkest,” Dabi snarls angrily.

“Stick to the script you were given, if you please,” Nedzu’s voice warns with a strict tone which All Might winces at. The smile returns, still just as false as the first time, “Allow me to welcome you to your hero academia.” 

The holorecorder shuts off shortly after that. Everyone is quiet before Izuku lets out a tiny laugh, then another, before bursting into continuous giggles. “He-He HATED that!” He giggled out. 

Himiko bursts into her own set of giggles, “He really did!” 

“But he didn’t have a choice!” Hitoshi wheezed out.

With that, all four of them were laughing at the ridiculousness of the number one hero’s act. When they calmed down from their laughing fit, three eldest congratulated Izuku on also getting into 1-A and with first place. He smiled at them in thanks before asking Dabi about his job interview, “Do you know yet if you got it? And also who you’d be working with?”

Dabi groans in unhappiness, “No, not yet on both accounts. They said they really liked my interview but they were going to discuss it first and get back to me. I tried to ask about which hero I’d be working with for this job but they adamantly refused to tell me. Said they ‘didn’t want to get my hopes up’ if I didn’t get it. As if that matters to me. I don’t care which hoity-toity hero I have to work with - well, as long as it’s not En-dick-vor or All Shite - I just want a little extra pocket cash and something to do while you guys are at school.”  

“Best Jeanist is pretty nice. He donates a lot of his clothing line’s proceeds to those in need of clothing in places like homeless shelters,” Izuku says before turning his eyes away, “But he might try to do something like comb your hair… or make you wear denim jeans.”

“Edgeshot’s pretty nice too!” Himiko tells him, swinging her legs a bit, “He bought me a cupcake shortly after my parents kicked me out when he saw me eyeing it in the window of the bakery shop!”

“I don’t think Edgeshot would need someone like me to play secretary for him. He’s pretty well put together,” Dabi gently explains.

“Well, what about Present Mic? I’ve heard that he sometimes runs his mouth a bit too much at press conferences,” Hitoshi suggests.

“Doubtful,” Izuku shakes his head, “Present Mic’s act is just that: an act. He’s actually really level headed and everything he talks about in interviews and things like that are premeditated in advance by him and his PR crew as a way to take a bit of heat off of the situation. Everything he’s ever ‘let slip’ to the public while in a press conference was entirely intentional and has never actually been fully about his true private life. Not any part of it that wasn’t already publicly available anyway.”

Hitoshi hums in intrigue at that. Dabi shrugs in response, “Well whoever it ends up being, it’ll sure be an interesting time if I do get the job.”

They all laugh again. CATRA watches them fondly and quietly from the monitor in the living room before turning her attention back to her inner processes. Her code races a bit as the conversation she found between Detective Tsukauchi and Aizawa Shouta progresses. Her processor focuses on the words Binary, identity, and surety in a way she doesn’t like. This conversation of theirs isn’t going the way she currently hoped it would and she could only hope that her plan, Operation Zero Zero, doesn’t have to come to fruition. She still hasn’t told Izuku about it and thus far Hitoshi is still the only one who knows about it. There isn’t any mention about an arrest warrant or a search party yet so she’ll just continue to monitor quietly for now.

[i-am-bitterly-jittery]

They Call Me Wicked (That Makes Me Glad) (pt 5/?)

[<<First],,[<Prev],[Next>]

Word Count: 2604

Rating: Teen

Pairings: none in this part (future Moceit, Analogical, Rosleep)

Warnings: perceived transphobia (? I guess), B&E, magic

~~~START~~~

Logan was absolutely fuming.  

Where does that dwarf get off? He thought balefully.  

During their tour of Auradon Prep, Remy had taken him aside while the others were distracted by the useless electives offered by the school. He’d asked Logan if he felt safe and comfortable sharing a dorm room with one of the others.  

Safe and comfortable!  

Logan wondered if the Prince and princess also thought so little of him; he may not be as obviously strong as Remus, or as intimidating looking as Patton, but he was hardly incapable of defending himself. He’d come out on top of the few fights he’d been in on the Isle using either his superior wit or agility.  

Safe and comfortable, bah! 

What he wouldn’t give to see Remy spend a day on the Isle of the Lost. The poor sap wouldn’t even last an hour.  

In fact, Logan had yet to see a single person in Auradon who’d last more than a day on the Isle.  

Safe and comfortable indeed.  

Logan ended up sharing a room with Remus — not his first choice, but a significantly better option than his twin, at least this one had a brain (it was significantly lacking compared to Logan’s, but still miles ahead of Roman’s).  

The dorm room ended up being bigger than Logan’s whole house on the Isle. The beds were soft and covered with more pillows and blankets than any one person could possibly need. There was a large bookcase already full of — completely undamaged — books, two large and well-stocked desks, a seating area complete with a leather sofa and two armchairs, and the absolute largest television screen sitting above the fireplace. They’d even each been given computers — an item that never made it to the Isle.  

It was large, it was opulent, and it was only a dorm room. No wonder Auradonians were so soft.  

As soon as the Prince and company took their leave, Remus overturned his satchel, and dumped a pile of stolen items onto his bed.  

“I see you waste no time,” Logan observed, glancing distastefully at the pile. “Is that the princess’s ring?” 

“Yeah, you want it?” Remus cackled, holding the black band out to Logan, who simply rolled his eyes.  

“No, I think not.” 

“Your loss,” Remus shrugged, tossing the ring over his shoulder. It made a plink when it hit the bare wood flooring, but neither boy paid it any attention.  

Logan surveyed Remus’s bounty for a moment before selecting a bookmark with a blue tassel and a gilded tree on it.  

“I am taking this,” he informed his roommate. He didn’t particularly have need for this specific token, but Remus hardly had any use for it.  

“Sure,” Remus replied dismissively, too busy trying on the different accessories he’d pilfered.  

Patton and Roman didn’t join them until after sunset, in which time Remus had become bored of his treasures and had discovered some sort of interactive game on the television, and Logan had set upon himself to figure out how the computer worked.  

“You’re going to get us caught!” Patton hissed, taking in Remus’s pile. “If they send us back to the Isle before we find that wand because you can’t help but steal anything that so much as sparkles–!” 

“Chill, boss man,” Remus sighed, pausing his video game. “These rich kids probably misplace things all the time; I doubt they’ll even waste the time searching for these; they’ll just buy new ones.” 

“You don’t even need these things! What’s even the point of taking them?” 

“Uh, fun?” Remus laughed. “Because I can? Since when do I need a reason?” 

“SINCE YOU'RE PUTTING THE ENTIRE PLAN IN JEOPARDY!” Patton yelled before forcefully reeling himself in. “This is our one chance to prove ourselves to our parents; our one chance to prove that we are evil, and vicious, and ruthless, and cruel!” He seethed through his teeth. “You can take anything you want after we take over Auradon.” 

“Spoilsport,” Remus muttered. “We don’t even know where the wand is. Fairy Godmother certainly isn’t just carrying it around with her.” 

“That’s what mom gave me this for,” Roman said, waving the little mirror around before taking a seat at the table. “Mirror mirror, on the table; show us Fairy Godmother’s wand– er, if you’re able?” 

“‘If you’re able’?” Patton mocked, coming up behind him to look at the mirror.  

“It had to rhyme!” 

“Did it though?” Logan asked, taking a seat across from Roman at the table.  

“Yes! I–” 

Remus snatched the mirror from his brother while he was distracted and held it aloft. “’Sup Mirror, where did my dumbass brother hide his diary?” 

“HEY!” Roman jumped to his feet, trying to take the mirror back before Remus found what he was looking for, resulting in a tussle between the two.  

“If you break the mirror before we find the wand, I will make both of you regret it,” Patton hissed. “Do you understand me?” 

“Aww, what’re you gonna do?” Remus teased, allowing Roman to take the mirror back from him (though Logan had no doubt that he’d gotten what he was looking for first). “You gonna spank us, daddy? Spank our bottoms like the bad little boys we are?” 

Patton’s face turned from green to red. He tried valiantly to make it look like the change came from anger, but Logan could tell that it was more from embarrassment than anything else.  

“Magic Mirror, where is Fairy Godmother’s wand?” Roman asked in an attempt to move on from this subject completely.  

The mirror displayed an image of the wand that Maleficent had shown them earlier. It was on a golden stand, but other than that, the image was too close to display any indications of where it was.  

“Is that the best it can do?” Patton asked.  

“Magic Mirror, not so close,” Roman tried again. 

The image zoomed out until it showed a large building with a sign above the door that read “Museum of Cultural History”.  

“Where’s that?” 

Logan typed “Museum of Cultural History” into the search bar of the computer and clicked on the “Map” option.  

“It is less than three miles from here. The building is closed for the night.” 

“Great, then no one will notice us stealing it,” Roman reasoned.  

“We have to get in first,” Logan pointed out. How were four teenagers — who were vastly unfamiliar with the technology of Auradon — supposed to break into a museum and steal the wand, surely there would be complex security systems in place.  

“That’s what I have this for,” Patton said, holding up his mother’s spell book.  

Logan wasn’t particularly convinced — seeing as how Patton had just gotten the spell book and had absolutely no experience performing magic and all — but he was outvoted and ignored as the four VKs made their way quickly and discreetly out of their dorm building, across Auradon Prep’s campus, and through Auradon’s capital city of Beladam to the Museum.  

The museum thankfully was surrounded by a wooded area that, according to a plaque on site, was “dedicated to an interactive history experience.” Regardless of whatever that meant, the remote location of the museum gave them room to move without too many chances for witnesses.  

“Check the mirror,” Patton ordered as they approached the building, keeping to the shadows as much as possible.  

“Why?” Roman asked. “Is my mascara smudged?” 

“The wand, Roman!” 

“Oh, yeah. This way.” 

Roman led them around the side towards a back entrance labeled “EMPLOYEES ONLY”. Through the windows of the doors, they could see a security guard sitting with his back to them in front of a bank of monitors.  

“Now what?” Remus asked. “We’ll never get in without him noticing.” 

“Hold on a sec.” Patton pulled out his mother’s spell book, flipping through it quickly. “Okay here. Prick the finger, prick it deep; hurry now, it’s off to sleep.” 

On the word “sleep” he drew a “Z” in the air with his pointer finger. Almost instantly, the security guard’s hand drifted over to a pencil, his finger pressing slightly over the sharpened point; a moment later his head was lulling to the side, and a loud snoring started up.  

“Wow,” Remus commented, impressed.  

Truthfully, Logan was rather impressed himself. Growing up on an island without magic, he’d never seen anyone actually cast a spell before; he wasn’t aware that they could work so quickly, and with such little experience from the spellcaster.  

“Now we just need one to open the door,” Roman pointed out, pushing uselessly at the door to emphasize his point.  

“Leave that to me,” Remus cackled, taking a few steps back in order to charge the door.  

“Door that’s closed, undo the lock; open up without a knock,” Patton recited quickly as Remus began his charge. The door flew open right as Remus was about to make contact, causing Logan’s roommate to fall, unceremoniously, onto the floor of the museum.  

“I could’ve done it,” Remus complained, picking himself off the floor.  

“Yeah, sure you could’ve,” Roman rolled his eyes, giving his twin a shove, which dissolved into a shoving match between the two.  

“Roman!” Patton hissed, growing impatient.  

“Right, right, the wand. Y’know, he started it.” 

“Did not!” 

“Did so!” At Patton’s glare, Roman got back to the matter at hand. “This way!” 

The fourth of them took off, running through the tile halls of the museum at the direction of a tiny hand mirror. Down the hall, up the stairs, down a different hall and finally through a room displaying… 

The statutes were larger than life. The intimidating poses and artistic interpretation casting them as the malicious powerhouses they had once been.  

The Hall of Villains.  

Maleficent was in the center of the room, cloak black as night, dragon wings spread out behind her, acting as arches over the walkways of the display room; her scepter in one hand, faintly glowing and raised to strike. Above her, suspended from the ceiling, her trusty crow, Blight; as big as an eagle, and with his talons ready to grip and tear anyone who got in the way of his mistress.  

Next to the door stood Evil Queen, young and beautiful, and dressed in only the finest robes made with the most expensive pigments. She held a box in her hand — the box that the huntsman had given her, claiming it held Snow White’s heart — and faced away from a large, ornate mirror-frame that hung from the ceiling. on the other side of the frame, an old hag was hunched over, with her back to the frame and holding out a bright, delicious looking red apple to the audience in front of her.  

On the other side of the door, Jafar was coming out of a lamp; his legs were but a tail of smoke ascending from the spout, but his torso and above were extremely human. A giant cobra had its tail curled around the entire display, its head coming up from behind Jafar, its eyes perfect rubies. The parrot, Iago, sat perched on the lamp’s lid, watching the scene before unfold with malicious glee.  

In the back of the room, visible past Maleficent's right wing, Gaston stood, his left leg on the ground, his right on the carcass of a bear. His gun was drawn, and it was aimed directly at the door. Even though he was only a statue (and likely created by someone who had never directly met Logan’s father) the look of pure loathing in his eyes was so painfully familiar, Logan couldn’t look away.  

Peripherally, he was aware that the others were having similar reactions to the statues of their parents. There had to be at least a dozen statues in The Hall of Villains, but none were as terrifying as their own parents.  

“We should,” Logan said eventually, never breaking eye contact with his father. “We should go. We must be nearing the wand by now.” 

“Right,” Roman agreed slowly, still staring at his mother. “Right. It’s, uh, it’s right through here.” 

He pointed hesitantly towards the back of the display room, where Logan was certain a door must be located, hidden from view by Maleficent’s form.  

Logan followed Roman slowly through the room, never taking his eyes off of Gaston as the less logical part of his brain whispered that he might be real. He might not be just a statue.  

He breathed a sigh of relief once they were finally out of that room, away from those terrifyingly life-like statues.  

The twins continued on, but Logan noticed that Patton had failed to make it through The Hall of Villains.  

“Patton!” He called into the display room as loudly as he dared.  

No response.  

“For the love of all things evil,” Logan muttered under his breath as he steeled himself to go back into that room.  

He avoided even so much as glancing in Gaston's direction this time as he walked back through, rounding Maleficent’s statue to where he had last seen the woman’s son. Patton had drifted into the hall, but had stopped directly in front of his mother’s statue, staring at it with the same level of awe and fear that Logan was sure he had sent his father.  

“Patton,” he tried again, placing his hand on the other boy’s shoulder.  

Patton’s wing shot out to defend him, but luckily it just missed hitting Logan.  

Slowly, Patton came back to himself, eventually turning to look at Logan.  

“If we fail,” he said quietly, almost as if he were afraid of Maleficent hearing him. “The punishments will never end.” 

“We will not fail,” Logan assured him. “Auradon has grown complacent in our parents’ absence; they will never see us coming.” 

“Because we’re rotten,” Patton recited, still somewhat in a daze.  

“To the core,” Logan finished.  

“Right,” Patton said, his resolve visibly strengthening. “We’ll get this wand, and then we’ll show Auradon exactly why they should fear us.” 

He brushed past the statue without further ado, leaving Logan to trail after him.  

By the time they caught up to Roman and Remus, the twins had already located the wand.  

The wand was in the center of a room that had other, lesser, magical artifacts lining the walls. It was resting on top of its golden stand which stood on a pedestal with a glass bell over it. Surrounding the whole pedestal was a barrier that was reminiscent of the one around the Isle of the Lost.  

There was some serious security to deal with before they could access the wand.  

Patton, to his credit, immediately began flipping through his spell book. Remus on the other hand… 

“Stand back,” he grinned, walking right up to the barrier and raising his fist. “I’ve got this.” 

“Wait!” 

“Remus don’t–!” 

But neither Roman, nor Logan’s words could stop him before his fist connected with the barrier.  

The force of Remus’s punch was redirected back at him by the barrier tenfold, sending him flying back through the door towards The Hall of Villains. At the same time, a piercing alarm rang out through the museum to alert security to the breech.  

They ran.  

Roman asked the Mirror how to avoid the security guard, who’d been awoken by the cacophony, so at least they were able to make it out without being caught. Logan even shut off the alarm using the codes that the guard had conveniently left by his station before someone higher up the chain was alerted to the break-in.  

“Nice going, Remus,” Patton groaned as they ran back through the streets towards Auradon Prep. “Now we actually have to go to school tomorrow.” 

~~~END~~~

I love Remus so much and I kinda want to tell you guys why I love him (in this fic) but I also kinda wanna just let it play out

General taglist:

@royalty-of-all-things-snuggly @pixelated-pineapple @knight-shives @misunderstood-shadowling

[barnesandco]

Blame it on the Heartache

A broken woman finds a lost man, and they try to put each other back together.

This is an entry for @star-spangled-bingo​​ 2020. Word count: approximately 2219. Square filled: “Morning Sex”

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: Mentions of violence, warzones, and one brief mention of persecution of LGBT people in Chechnya. Oh and also smut. Lots of smut (18+ only). It was supposed to be just smut, but then angst happened, and here we are. 

A/N: There’s some talk about blame in this fic, and honestly, I blame (and thank) @heli0s-writes​, this post, and this one. Also, there will be a part 2 some time next week.

You find him by accident. Kiev bar just after dawn, with wooden bar tops and table tops all rotting with the steady decay of time and too little money, disguises his head of dark hair and grimy outline in a corner booth perfectly but your eyes lock onto the side profile, the slope of his nose and the bow of his lips arching against the light of the snow outside. The Winter Soldier, or the shell he has left behind, sits with a shot glass clutched loosely in a gloved hand, the other one’s fingers decorated with rings.

They’re intriguing things, that you watch closely from the bar, pounding head distracted by the scent of hot chocolate and the jewellery that is both the manifestation of wishes for a prettier life, and the mark of a roughened man at the same time. The light catches on a round ruby set on a silver band on his forefinger. It reminds you of the red star painted on gleaming gray you first saw smuggling political refugees from one warzone into another. The time you were a spy, before you were an activist, before you gave up all hope of NGO pretenses and took things into your own hands, helping people with only the wind to guide you.

Not that you succeeded much. Now, days after desperate depression and harrowing hopelessness thanks to only having managed to rescue half as many queer Chechen teens from their torture cells as intended, you are aching with the weight of your uselessness. The air around you, the tonnes of the morning sky are pressing down on your shoulders, and the whiskey in your hot chocolate is doing little to relieve the tension.

The sorrow is what you will blame, later. Or perhaps, the alcohol, although there is barely a syringe’s worth of it in your system with less than half your mug still empty and going cold quick. You’ll fault the loneliness of decades helping a world that does not want to become better for how you rise from your stool and sit down across from the man who thinks he is a stranger to you.

You’ve read the stories. Seen the videos of the helicarrier falling apart above the Potomac, the camera footage captured by a daring chopper, and the Smithsonian’s exhibit on Bucky Barnes. The eyes staring back at you, calculating, clever, above cutting cheekbones, are the same as the ones on the wall in the museum. He’s had a century of pain and you only tenths of one, but the hurt rings out and resonates clearly, a sonic bell of a distress signal, captured by wandering eyes and inexplicable want.

You wonder what he will blame for his response to you unbuttoning the top of your shirt, and your hand over his. Possibly, the fact that he’s been on the run for a year. A year out of the cryostasis detailed by the files the Black Widow leaked in D.C. A year of running, of being alone and sometimes worse -- only the haunting nightmares for company. Your sympathy, the same one that pushes you to keep at your job when it is forever hopeless, is what pulls your heartstrings closer to him.

His fingers tighten around yours, and you blame desolation. You blame the flaming burn of want that shines from his eyes when he sees a face that is not just friendly, but maybe familiar, too. Something tells you you ought to be scared, as he rises and drops a hryvnia bill on the table, and leaves, still holding your hand, but the strength of his grip deters you. The hold is gentle, calloused, the rings grazing your palm as he adjusts to intertwine your hands, so each metal band comes to rest against the sensitive skin between your fingers. Tight enough to feel coarse skin and trembling desire, but loose enough that you can easily leave. Run. You are not being forced anywhere.

The streets of Kiev become a shimmering, white backdrop to his face that looks even more stunning in the light. How much of your last encounter does he recall, if any? New Mexico, 2001, protection detail for war scarred children who needed to evacuate, one of which was an heir to a throne. A brawl in a market, sweat-sticky sundress flaring furiously, the heat of the American sun no match for that of his arms around you. A dance, a twirling battle, and the gasping from breath in the aftermath was one hell of a challenge. Something that restored your faith in your job.

But you’re far from Albuquerque, now, and are reminded of that fact as he leads you to the polar opposite of a southern tavern. It’s an inn. A quaint, small place, more wood, this one gleaming brown on the walls and the hardwood floors and the mahogany counter, all well kept. He strides past the burning fireplace in the lobby and climbs the stairs two at a time, as you struggle to keep up. Part of your lust-addled brain thinks to joke about how he has you panting before he’s even gotten you in bed.

All thought of laughter evaporates when he shuts the door and presses you against it with his human forearm pressing on your neck. Tight enough to threaten but loose enough to let you breath. Your heart beats faster, the pulse of your veins thrumming a little closer to the surface. 

Who are you? he growls in Ukrainian, eyes shifting between threatening and offering little hints of fear. When you do not answer, he asks, who sent you? 

The material of his jacket is rough where it pushes into you. You have to fight to speak. “Nobody.” The English makes his eyes widen, and you barely have time to question whether this move killed you or saved you, when he takes his arm off your neck and replaces it with his mouth.

Heavenly heat, hellish white light, blinding ecstasy erupts like a volcano where he begins to devour you like he hasn’t for centuries, for millennia of loneliness, and there, in the innocent hotel room, your head fills with images of everything but. Hands find his hair, knock the woollen hat off his head while his teeth trace a pleasure-trail down your neck and to your collarbone, his fingers clenching on your hips. 

You push back, off the door and into the room, standing now, supporting your own weight on weak knees and shaking breath. He steals the last of it you have left when he leaves your collarbone -- a bruise blooming ripely in the color of a plum -- to find your lips, and this, this is what salvation tastes like. Vodka and whiskey and chocolate, on lips chapped but lush and soft beyond the rough exterior. A gasping sound of want released in a hurried exhale between kisses makes him growl from somewhere in his chest. 

The vibrations reach your heart, heavy and loud and beating a march of deathly desire on your rib cage. You hold onto him with tight fists, like he will float away, because this is the only way to let go. There is a reassurance, in his hands clutching your jeans tighter, that he isn’t leaving. His fingers slip under your sweater, and then under your shirt, and you break away with a gasp as cold metal -- full hand on one side, and slim rings on the other -- meets your skin.

Then you press his hands to you tighter, let him tear your upper layers away, tug his jacket and sweater off his shoulders as he becomes well acquainted with the tops of your breasts, the parts visible above your bra. Head bowed in sacred confession, he finds rescue in your body, skin shining in the light of the beginning day behind you. A new start.

A new hiding place, he goes down on both knees, laving at your belly button, leaving you spit-shiny and cooling in the chilly air. He takes your jeans off slowly, a contrast to every other step made so far, and mouths at your mound, soaking your underwear further with slow, maddening movements of his tongue. You’ve had enough. This buzzing heat has turned to forest fire in your pulse, and you take your bra off and pull him up and towards you. 

His chest is warm against you when you fall back against the bed, his weight recognizable. The Soldier -- James, you think, for now -- buries himself in your neck with a renewed vigor. Begins to move down your body to the apex of your thighs, where you are wet. Dripping, soaking wet, just for him. The first touch of his tongue to your honey-sweet slick is an electric spark, and he lights you up like the fourth of July with every touch after. Fireworks in your irises mirror the flames licking up your spine, and his eyes meet yours when he opens them in moments of reprieve from enjoying the taste of you.

Purgatory, this limbo between right and wrong, is the closest you have been to joy in as long as you can remember. It aches in your limbs as you inch closer to the cliff’s edge of delectable joy. 

“Enough,” you say, when you ache for more, when you are empty and wanting only him inside of you, all of him, and he moves away. Trepidation in his eyes at the thought of being pushed away evaporates when you pull him back, the flow of your pushes and pulls echoing with the power of the moon, and how it brings the waves to lap at the land a reflection of how James’ chest meets yours when you have opened the buttons of his shirt.

It hangs open, a curtain around you, and you dexterously strip him of his jeans as well, toes pushing at the waistband and belt falling off the bed with a clink that sounds like the final nail in the coffin. You’ll gladly die a little death here, if he’s the executioner. 

His cock is leaking with arousal, hard against the lines of his abdomen begin to smear a shiny trail against you as well, and you take him in hand and he groans. Throbbing hot in your hand, velvet heat over solid steel hardness, and you spit in your hand before slicking him up a little more, his moans louder and unreserved in your clavicle, teeth grazing the spots he has made tender. 

Desperate man. Lonely, sweet, sad man. Your heart aches for him, and you want to give him more than his cruel lifetimes have so far. You want to give him warmth, starting with the warmth of your silk body, as he slips inside of you, slumping, his forehead pressing into your shoulders and murmuring what you think is a prayer into you. 

His hands are moving with feverish intensity over you, metal warmer now, as he throbs and pulses and then adjusts to your heat. All that while, you hold him. Hands first over his shoulder blades, then moving your right hand to his left, slipping under his hold on the sheets to entwine his fingers with yours the way he did in the street that feels miles below wherever you’re flying.

He’s so big, and you are so full, nerves prickling with electrostatic lust, that you have to focus on the swell of him above you, the hand holding yours and the shape of the rings on his fingers not to lose it right there. Then he starts moving.

And you’ll swear you’ve never felt true bliss before this moment, because James moving inside you, with slow thrusts, stretching your walls in delightful pain, is a luxury you’ve never lived before. Stealing your breath, his pace picks up, and you feel every ridge along his length on the inside of your body. Fire pools in your belly, and his hand is drawn to it. He supports himself on his metal arm, and trails the other down your torso. Obsidian shimmers on his ring finger and there is the unmistakable wink of vibranium on his little finger, as his hand dips lower to your clit, and you watch the spot where he moves in and out.

Lascivious eyes watch you watch his fingers circle your nub, tracing the path to your gratification, and they shine when you mewl, arching up, circling your hips. Climbing higher and higher, he moves faster, hits a spot in you that burns brighter than the Sun rising in the sky, and everything explodes in a supernova of heat, color behind your eyelids and warmth flooding your insides as he spills deep, growls against your throat, hand clutching your wrist when he falls forward. 

You are marked up in his artistry, a painting of pleasure in the mouth-made bruises on your neck and the fingerprints on your hips, and the circular indentations from his rings on your neck. He softens inside you, as you overflow with your combined pleasures, and you hum against the crown of his head, as you run your fingers through his scalp. Sated man, grateful man, miracle pleasure, purring in your arms, too dangerous to keep, but too comfortable a weight to let go of so soon.

[awrestlinggirlwholoves80sbands]

We are married now! ( 2019! Slaxl)

A/N: Here’s the sequel to this oneshot about Slash proposing to Axl. Because let’s be honest, current Slaxl deserves love too!

1992

Slash was smoking a cigarette, absently looking in the distance. They finally had a break from shooting, so he sat on the stairs of the church, frustration and tiredness rising in his chest.

He was so annoyed by Axl’s perfectionism, and by the whole storyline of that freaking music video. They were a rock band, they came from the streets, they were supposed to represent that, not filming about a love story and a wedding in a church in the middle of a desert!

But what irritated Slash the most was that he had to marry her!  He had to stand to watch Axl and that girl kissing over and over, watching her walking down the aisle and seeing the smile on his singer’s face. Even if he didn’t want to admit it, he knew he was supposed to be the one looking at the redhead like that, he should have felt Axl’s lips on his, held his hand or call him his husband.

Slash was the one to deal with the other man’s mood swing, he was the one taking care of him when he couldn’t get out of the bed, he comforted him after a nightmare, or made him feel safe whenever they were in Indiana.

Usually he wasn’t bother by things, but all of that really was testing his calm. Because deep down, he knew he was in love with Axl.

He was in love with Axl fucking Rose!

“Can I have one?” His singer’s deep voice said, sitting next to him.

Slash handing him one, not even looking him in the eyes.

“Are you angry Slash?” The redhead asked.

“No, I’m not.” The guitarist answered with a neutral tone.

“Oh fuck you Saul, I know you! I can see when you’re angry.”

“Yes, I’m fucking annoyed, okay?! You know how I feel about music videos. Plus we are a rock band, born from the streets and we are shooting a video in a stupid church in the desert.” Slash didn’t sound pissed, just tired and indifferent, or at least he tried to look like that.

Axl took a drag from his cigarette, then he looked the curly man into the eyes.

“It’s not just about that. I know that you hate music videos but you never behaved like an angsty teen!”

Saul laughed dryly, moving his hair out of his face, so Axl could see him better.

“I hate her. I freaking hate that backstabber witch so much. But most of all I hate the fact that she has to be the bride, that she is the one to kiss you!” He admitted, biting his lip.

The redhead seemed surprised by his confession,  but happy at the same time.

“It is about you, do you know that? November Rain is about you, I wrote it thinking about you. Not about Stephanie or Erin or any other girl.”

Now it was Slash’s turn to look surprised and confused.

“Bullshit! Then why is she here? Why you look like a freaking puppy around her?” He replied, bitterly.

Axl took a big breath, clenching his fists. Slash thought he was about to hit him or scream, but the other talked in a quiet tone, surprisingly.

“If I could I’d let you be the one. Fuck… if I could I’d marry you! You know what? I’m going to marry you, one day I’m going to fucking take you to the aisle, Saul Hudson! You’ll be my husband.

Slash felt a warm sensation in his heart, however his thoughts quickly water it down. He knew that Axl was still scared, still ashamed of liking him, he knew how he was still tormented by his religious past. He would have never

his hand in public or kissed him, and certainly he would have never married him.

He didn’t matter how many times he could have said “I love you” after sex, it was not possible for them to be together. Did he even really love him? So he just laughed.

“Well I hope you can manage to do that before 2020!” He said sarcastically, stomping on his cigarette, then walking away.

But before he could, Axl grabbed his wrist.

“I know it’s not a real one, but that’s my promise!” He stated firmly, he took a ring from his pocket and put it on Slash’s finger, the one he used in the wedding scene.

The guitarist gave in and brushed his lips against Axl’s, but then he walked away with a sad smile.

A part of him really hoped, that the other keep his promise.

2019

Slash was playing with the same ring Axl gave him years ago. He kept it with him after all this time, even when they hated each other or so they have thought.

Usually he was hardly nervous, but today he felt on the edge, probably the fact that he was about to marry the man of his life didn’t help.  But it was so useless to get worried : Axl loved him, most of the fans were supportive and even his two kids, London and Cash, were more than happy to have also “Papa Axl” with them!

Duff was his best man, and like the old times, he seemed to know the exact moment he needed to comfort somebody. He got in the room, and put his hands on Slash’s shoulder, feeling the other man tension.

“What’s wrong buddy? And don’t lie to me, I know you too well!”

“What if everything will go wrong, after we get married? Slash answered, still playing with his ring.

“Why should that happen? You both wanted to get married, and even your kids agree!” Duff said, calmly.

“Maybe I can’t be in a marriage? I’ve been in two and everything went to shit!”

“Yeah but your last one lasted 20 years! The point is that you two always loved each other, you probably wanted to do this since the early days! I know your brain is making you think shit but that’s not the truth!” Duff said firmly. “ Now just breathe and think about all the sappy things you two can do, as soon as you become husbands.” He added with a smile.

“We both want that and he loves me, everything will be okay. God, I bet Axl is so chill about this, while I’m the one freaking out this time!” Saul said with a laugh, ready to drive to their wedding location.

---

Axl was totally not chill. He was pacing the room, he felt anxious and worried, biting his lips.

“C’mon Ax, you’re being unreasonable right now. He proposed you! How couldn’t he want to be your husband?!” Izzy stated, sounding a bit annoyed.

Yes, Axl asked Izzy Stradlin to be his best man. Time passed and they were on good terms, at least enough to make Izzy accept to do this.

“What if it doesn’t work out? Fuck we haven’t spoken to each other for decades! We’ve been together for only three and a half years, what if it is too early?” The redhead shoot back.

Izzy sighed, rubbing his temples. Axl may have changed but some things about him didn’t.

“Look at me! You love him and he loves you, he proposed to you because he wanted you as his husband. He talked about you all the time, he was such a pain in the ass and we both know how your man is, if he doesn’t want to do something he won’t do it first!” The black haired man said, holding Axl’s shoulders steadily.

“Are you sure?”

“Fuck, yes Axl I’m sure! He came all the time in my hotel rooms, drunk as fuck, talking about how you were an asshole but also perfect and how we wanted you so bad! Now stop freaking out or I’ll call Beta.” He smiled and the redhead relaxed a bit.

“ It’s better if we go, because I don’t want to show up late this time too! And also because if I show up late, Slash I’ll say I’m the bride!” Axl said with a laugh.

---

Axl didn’t arrive late, however Slash was already there.

He stopped a moment to look at the beautiful  garden where they choose to marry, surrounded by red roses bushes, who made everything cheesy as fuck, but Axl loved it nonetheless. It was simply but also eccentric, just like him and Slash.

Then his eyes were fixed on his soon-to-be husband talking to Duff :he looked so good with his wild curls and his half open shirt, a little smile on his face and the ring he gave him years ago around his neck. They decided to use a replica of that as their wedding rings, because the redhead was that sentimental!

Somebody had to say something about the groom being there, because Slash turned around and he spotted Axl, his mouth slightly open and his eyes full of joy.

“You look stunning, my love. I really dig this suit!” He said smiling widely, eyes full of love.

“ I was very tempted to put on the same suit I had on during “November Rain” but unfortunately it doesn’t fit me anymore.” The other man replied, blushing and with a sad smile.

He was very self-conscious about his appearance, considering that Slash was still so fit and sexy to him. However his boyfriend wouldn’t never let Axl’s insecurities eat the man he loved.

“I like you better this way and if I wasn’t about to get married, I’d ask your number!” He joked with a smirk.

“You’re the same idiot I fell in love with. And your ass is still as great as it was in the 80s!” Axl whispered the last part, making Slash hiding behind his hair for a split second.

“Maybe we should go, or post marriage sex will become pre marriage sex!” The curly man grabbed his hand and led his almost husband  to the justice of the peace.

There were not many people, just their closest friends ( including Steven you was more than happy to join) and families. It was strange for two rock stars to save such a modest wedding, but they didn’t care, they just wanted it to celebrate their love with the people who accepted them.

“We are here today to celebrate the union of Axl and Saul, two men who decided to consolidate their love through marriage. Now you shall say your votes.” The judge said.

Axl stared it, taking a deep breath.

“I don’t think many of you know this but I promise to Slash that we would be married. It was 1992 and we were filming November Rain, and he was upset because he loved me too much to see him with another person. Little did he know that I was also totally in love with him, and if I could I was ready  to marry him right on the spot, and actually I said it to him but he was very stubborn that day, so he left me standing in the desert. Now almost 30 years later, he asked me to get married, with the same song I dedicated to him. Saul Hudson, you’re the love of my life. I’ve never been so happy until we got reunited and you decided to stay, you show me what a happy life was, you loved me with all my flaws, you never judged me but you were always there to help me. Sure we did some very stupid things back then, but I’d want nothing more than just be your husband and be at your side, in health and sickness and all that bullshit! Because me and you can’t be apart even if we want to!”

The redhead was trying his best to not cry, and honestly Slash started to have some difficulties with that too. He looked at Axl’s beautiful eyes and smiled softly.

“I thought that I wanted to marry you when I saw your smile during our concert in Austin, but that’s not the truth. Maybe I’ve always wanted it, or maybe when I saw you in that pirate style jacket, my heart went “marry him” while my head was “ he kind of looks like a douche bag”, but still I’ve dreamt this day for a while. People always think that I’m the one who saved you, that I tamed the angry and crazy beast named Axl Rose, but that’s not true. Axl Rose saved me too, he showed me how it was wonderful to be loved, because I didn’t know what love or happiness really was, until I met him, and not a single drug in the world can give me what my boyfriend gives me! So yeah, I will love you too in health and sickness, even if you don’t like much my snakes!”

Slash tried to laugh but he really felt the emotions taking the best of him, especially when he laid his eyes on the crying redhead in front of him.

“You can exchange your rings!”

Saul took Axl’s hand in his, and gently he put the ring on, a simple one but full of meaning for them. The other man did the same, kissing his future partner in life.

“By the authority vested in me by the State of California, I pronounce you husband and husband. You may kiss!” The judge said with a smile.

Slash’s lips softly smashed on Axl’s one, as all the crowd erupted in a round of applause. But for the both of them time seemed to stop, what mattered was only the feeling of their lips linked and their hearts joined.

“You’re my husband, you are really my husband!” The curly guitarist said smiling.

“Told you I’d make it before 2020. You didn’t believe me, but I could never let you go away from me. Maybe for 20 years you did, but now we are tied!” Axl joked, but then he got serious again. “ Thank you so much for being the love of my life, Saul Hudson.”

“Thank you for have let me be the one, Axl Rose.”

---

In the big ballroom where they would eat, cut the cake and do their first dance, friends and family were already sitting down, talking happily to each other.

The married couple finally arrived, and they find Steven, Izzy and Duff talking at their table. Beta and part of his family was there too, along with Slash’s kids, while the rest of the current band sat at a near table.

“Yeah man, he was a pain in the ass. He was constantly talking about him when he was drunk, always saying that he hated him but he couldn’t stop loving him!” Izzy explained to Duff.

“Yeah, well also Slash was like that. He would complain that he didn’t understand him, that  he was a fucking psycho but he loved him and he would make him go crazy, one day!” Duff replied, rolling his eyes.

“Hey, fuck you Duff, that was supposed to be a secret!” Slash shoot back, annoyed.

“No no, I want to know. I was always so oblivious until 91!” Steven said, very excited.

Axl laughed, then he felt somebody getting closer to him.

“You know at first I wanted to punch him in the face, but now I can see how much you love each other. But if he breaks your heart, I’m going to really hurt him!” Beta said firmly, and Axl couldn’t help but smile at her over the protectiveness of his adoptive mom.

---

The light were turned a bit down, and the familiar notes of “Love of my life” by Queen started playing.

Slash took Axl’s hand in his and led him in the center of the dance floor.

“Are you nervous, my love?” Saul asked, surprised.

“I think this is the first ever slow dance we two had together” He answered nervously.

“Wrong. ’88 in that weird hotel in Florida, we danced in your room listening to the radio.”

“ I was drunk and you were high and we fell on the floor before we could finish the song!”

Slash laughed and brought his husband closer to him, so that the redhead could rest his head on his shoulder.

“I know you love Queen and we like this song, but why you have chosen this one?” The guitarist was curious, he knew that November Rain was not their song to dance, it was for the more intimate and important moment, when they needed to tell the other how much they loved them, like he did during his proposal.

“Sweet Child O’Mine was not an option, one because you hate the riff and two because it was not about you. Like well maybe it was a bit about you, but still it was not our song, while this one used to be the one that would make me think about you all the time!” The singer confessed, playing with the other man’s curls.

Slash led him, even made him spin a bit, then he gulped and looked him into the eyes.

“When I thought I had four weeks left of living, I left you a letter at the bottom of your door. I begged Izzy to tell me where you lived and I left it there, I thought that I was dying and I wanted you to read the letter where I explained everything, but then the next morning I took it away.” Slash blurted out nervously, feeling vulnerable and exposed.

“I read it, I read it and I thought it was a joke, that it was not true. I cried and almost smashed something and put it outside. Then the next morning I read the news and I understand it was true, you were dying and that letter was yours, but it was already gone. Fuck we are such two idiots!” Axl laughed but he also started crying.

Slash quickly wiped his tears, hugging him tightly.

“Shhh don’t cry baby. It’s okay, it’s a happy day!” He soothed him.

“You could have been gone, and I was suck a prick. You could have died and I was too resentful to give you a proper goodbye! You loved me even if I was broken and I did that!” He cried.

“Shhh babe, I’m here and I’m not gone. And it’s okay, I was a prick too, but what matters is that we are together and married. You were not broken baby and you deserve my love!” Saul kissed him, feeling his eyes tearing up a bit, too.

It was a slow and passionate kiss, all their love, passion and insecurities were in it. They held it for a while, before they started noticing people coming to the dance floor.

“You two are so in love, it is almost sickening!” Duff stated with a laugh.

“Leave them alone Duffy, they are so cute!” Steven chimed in.

“Thank you so much for coming here guys, this mean a lot to me, to us.” Axl said, squeezing Slash’s hand.

“Don’t get all sappy on us, Rosie. But yeah we love you too, and I think you guys should cut the cake now.” Izzy observed, pushing them lightly.

---

When they finally arrived at their home, they were tired as hell much so much happy.

“Well, this is our wedding night…” Slash started, laying on the bed.

“And?” Axl knew exactly where his husband was going, but he wanted to tease him a bit. Also, he was trying to feel less insecure about his body.

“Oh c’mon Rosie, you know what happens on the first wedding night! And before you even think about it, you’re so fucking hot in that suit, that I feel almost bad to want to take it off. Almost.

The redhead smiled, and got on top of the guitarist.

“Let’s do something before you fall asleep, Mr.Rose!” Axl teased, taking off his shirt.

“But you have to promise that you’ll be quiet, Mr. Hudson!” Slash shoot back with a laugh.

Married life never felt better for both men.

[danddymaro]

Before I Go | Jean Pierre Polnareff x Reader

Set during Part 5. AU Where sweet Baby Polnareff doesn’t get fucked and instead gets a happy ending, surviving Diavolo.  

Kind of, sorta angsty (???)

Thoughts are italics in quotations = ‘Example’

Flashbacks are in italics = Example

Word count:  2395

Before I Go

“ How was I supposed to tell him?” She said quietly as a soft, little look of remembrance touched with sadness melted onto her features as she remembered each and every time the question went over her head,

‘How Polnareff? How could I have even stood before you ?’ She asked herself, not knowing how she could ever come to face him again.

By then, the stark night was illuminated by the large glowing moon, the only light that could lovingly touch her now, something she detested with a passion, because it just reminded her of how seldom her life would remain while stuck lurking in the darkness.

Furthermore, it reminded her of  her loss of humanity,

“ How was I supposed to admit that the entire time we’d been together, I had been nothing but a monster,” She revealed, her (e/c) eyes glaring down at her open palm, her overgrown nails, both pointed and black coming into perfect view as she brought her fingers down, forming a tight, shaking fist.

“Every time he’d look at me, he'd know I was just as revolting as those two…” She said while sucking in a harsh breath, “ Those...two…” She added through her tightened teeth, unable to finish her sentence, woeful tears leaking from her (e/c) eyes as she recalled the events which took place many years ago.

Suddenly calming, she then let loose of her tightened fist, her shoulders coming down in a slacking state during the process,

“It's been years and I haven't heard a word from him,” she started, continuing to speak to the golden haired teen to reveal all of her truths, “ But to be fair, I hadn’t really searched much,” she admitted, “Because...well... I was too afraid he’d know I was still around. ”

It was then that she cracked a small smile, a very minuscule one that showed tenderness,

“ He'd no doubt found a wife,” She doted, certainty in her (e/c) drops. “... someone to share little moments with, just as he'd always dreamed of. - All like he said he would one day.” She said with a touch of amusement, remembering how everyone would roll their eyes at his flirtatious nature,

‘ He was such a romantic...’

“ And of course....I can imagine him with so many children,” she said smiling, her voice cracking in between the sentence, because she’d always wanted to have children as well.

“ I can see him playing with them, both arms outstretched as he spins them around,” she added with a hiccup, shaking it off with an unsteady chuckle instead to try and drive away the unbearable pain in her chest,

‘ Just like with sherry...like you said you'd done so many times…’ She recalled with fondness.

“ I miss those days, those few days we knew each other, because while they hadn’t been the longest, I can admit without a shadow of a doubt that I'd never been happier than I was at that point in my life!” She confessed, her arms tightly hugging her own figure.

‘Every day we struggled to make it to the next, and even then I’d never smiled so much. I’d never been so damn happy than when I with all of them... Especially you Polnareff,’  She thought while thinking back to all of the men she’d traveled with. 

She missed jabbing Jotaro until he grew annoyed, physically poking him out of boredom until he fought her back, doing just the same out of rebuttal. Occasionally, she’d catch his scowl take a turn, twitching into a smile during his own attack.

“Good Grief,” He’d mutter, “You’re so annoying!” He huffed in between his assault.

She missed hearing Kakyoin jabber on about his gaming strategies, promising they’d one day play together. There was a smugness to him during his talks that she found funny, because he was sure no one could really beat his technique, no matter what video game they’d pick. 

“You know,” Noriyaki started, “I’ve never really played against anyone else,” He admitted, “Not with a friend,” He added, smiling at her with appreciation for even bothering to take interest in something he had a passion for.

She missed Avdol’s calm, warm air, and the ease she had when she was around him. Out of all of them, he felt the closest to family, being the wise one, the level headed one she could ask for advise and trust with her life, 

‘I never had a doubt you’d give yours for one of ours,’ She thought as she remembered him with fondness, appreciating his sacrifice, the very one that kept her from falling into Vanilla Ice’s mercy. 

The same one that kept Polnareff out of danger more than once...

She missed Mr. Joestar’s pleasant company, always beaming as he’d lay a hand over her head as a little act of affection he’d grown accustomed to doing. She also enjoyed his stories, listening on attentively to them with amazement, 

“You know...” Joseph said while looking down at his prosthetic, feeling just a smidge bashful at his admittance, “ Sometimes I feel like no one listens to this old fool,” He confessed to her. “For a long time now, even Holly seemed to grow tired of me, focusing more on her own life,” He said while offering (f/n) a soft smile, “ Thank you for listening (f/n). Thank you for taking the time,” He added, laying his hand over  her head, scuffling up her combed (h/c) strands while she responded with a happy smile, truly at peace.

‘I even miss that gas machine Iggy,’ She mused, loving the tenderness he showed when they were left alone,

“Why can’t you be this sweet all the time,” she asked the creature while pouting, touching the little sensitive spot behind his ear, “It wouldn’t hurt to stop acting so tough,” She suggested, watching as the Frenchie scoffed, nonetheless staying still to keep being caressed.

And then there was Polnareff, the man who she simply could not let go of, no matter how much time progressed. 

- The same man who currently hid from her, the entire time sitting in disbelief as he heard her voice.

Listening on, the silver-haired male closed his eyes tightly, keeping himself hidden away from her, listening on to the woman as she poured her heart out to Giorno.

‘I hadn’t forgotten you either.’ He thought to himself, having spent nights with the same heartache, yearning for the woman he thought had died back in Cairo at the hands of the golden-haired fiend.

“ Is that why you helped us?” Giorno asked, his voice soft as he stared at the woman with interest, finally having understood her strange behavior. "Just to find him again," He added with a soft smile lifting up his features, truly taken by the dedication that existed within her.

With a somber nod, she confirmed it.

“It’s also why you only showed yourself during the night,” He added with understanding.

“Precisely,” She said with a soft blow of air coming out from her nostrils, “I did all I could to aid you,” She said lowly, " Just know, I’m sorry I couldn’t do more,” She added with regret, knowing there were none but three of them left.

"Yeah," he responded back with the same gentleness.

In the end, he couldn't blame her for what happened, especially not now that he understood her restrictions.

“ I  just wanted to see him one last time,” she admitted, “ One last time before…” stopping herself, she swallowed thickly, instead, trailing her eyes up to the full moon where in the morning the sun would soon arise,

“ Before?” Giorno asked her, urging her to continue.

Looking at him straight on, the woman smiled wholeheartedly, her eyes shut tight as  a large grin itched over her face, painfully being forced to stay,

" Before I let the sun rise over me. Before I turn to nothing but ash," She revealed to him.

" I wanted to see him one more time before I go.

 I haven't found happiness in all this time, and I doubt I'll ever come to hold it within my chest again." She added.

“ I don't mind him looking away from me, not when even I can’t stand the sight of my own figure.” She spoke with the same melancholy,  “ At this point, I don't care if he detests me, because I've lived with that thought every day for years.

I know he’d despise me.

The only comfort I have from that is that I know that once he finds out what I've become, he'd be much happier knowing I was dead. And then...then I could make him happy just once before I die. "

The teen’s Green eyes open wide as he heard her, his  mouth opened up to speak before another voice cut him off,

“Tch! Are you insane?” Polnareff said out loud, barking at her as he revealed himself to her, his arms straining to push his chair forward.

“P-pol…” she couldn't finish, her eyes grazing over the filthy murky silver of his chair, and then his artificial limbs that were now useless.

Stopping, she held in a breath, her heart stilled at his miserable sight,

"I don't care about any of that !" He cried out to her, having willed himself right to her, his two hands tightly grasping hers to pull her down.

"Pol-" she couldn't finish her surprised outburst before she fell down to him, his lips immediately latching onto  hers.

Through his shut eyes, crystal droplets escaped, mixing with her two falling streams as they traveled down, their paths once again coming together to taste bittersweet,

“I could care less...” He murmured between their mashed lips,  “Mon amour,” he muttered softly, drawing back slightly to gaze into her (e/c) colored eyes,  the pad of his thumb brushing over the flesh of her lips, both top and bottom, relishing in the softness of them, something he hadn’t been able to do in the past, despite all the overwhelming desire he'd had during those days.

“Do you know what my life has been without you?” he asked her, moving his hand to take a hold of the side of her face, collecting her tears and gently  wiping them away,

“Do you know how many pieces my heart shattered into?” he added, a shuttered breath leaving him as he thought back to the last night he'd seen her,

He moved too slow, his royal blue eyes watching with horror as her body curled onto the large arm impaling her, clean going through her.

Frozen, he watched while she was then  thrown aside, her beaten body rolling across the concrete ground. A trail of red was painted upon the empty road, starting from the woman’s carcass, and leading back to DIO.

"(f/n)! " He cried out, crawling towards her, his vision blurred as he stared at her longer.

Pushing himself he cried out in lament as he stopped, his sluggish body unable to move further,

"I couldn't help Jotaro," He mumbled, his cheek pressed against the chipped , concrete ground,

"I couldn't save Avdol.

I couldn't  save Iggy.

I wasn't there for Kakyoin.

I couldn't even reach out to Mr. Joestar .

And now....Now... (f/n)… I can't even make my way towards you,"  

He said while tightly shutting his eyes, the smothering embrace of slumber taking over, his last thoughts on the woman  slain a few feet before him.

Silently signaling both Trish and Mista, Giorno took his leave, deciding it best to leave the other two to themselves, sparing one last glance at them with a placid smile, wishing them the best. 

"- I searched for you," Polnareff  told (f/n), "The first thing I did was look for you when I woke up in the hospital," he revealed to her. " But by then you were gone. Jotaro said that you were gone when he went back, and we didn't know what to think of it." He went on,

"Last I knew you'd been struck by him... You'd been beaten bloody...

After that, I would have never imagined you alive," he said with relief.

"But here you are," he marveled at her, seeing how little she'd changed, retaining all of the beauty she possessed in the past, and in fact,  growing even more stunning now.

"I am, "she said back to him, " I am here...but I'm a monster nonetheless," She told him. "He'd given me his blood and whether or not I knew of it, it doesn't change the fact that I -"

"That I love you." he interrupted her, " It doesn't change the fact that I love you.” He flat out told her, “ It doesn’t change that I'd thought of you every day since then. That no matter how much time passed by, I could never find it in myself to even look at another woman." He went on,

"(f/n) ," he started, his face soft and uncertain, a gentle, rosy color rising over his face as he continued to look up at her, reminding her of the past version of himself that was still young,

"You're nothing like him.” he assured her, “ You're no monster, because all in all, you're still (f/n). You're still my dream, " He admitted.

Grasping both her hands, he took them up to his lips, kissing them sweetly, his blue eye gazing up at her with unwavering love,

"I've spent years without you, having been unable to tell you in the past how much I loved you.

I know I'm only a fraction of the man I was before, and so much time has gone by. 

But...

But (f/n), I'd still love to spend the rest of my days with you. Grow old at your side. " He told her.

Her hand rose to take hold of his cheek, caressing it tenderly before drawing in towards him, answering him with a sweet kiss in return,

'I can't grow old.

I can never live a normal life...but even so, even while knowing,

you still propose such a thing to me,' She mused.

"If you still love me the way I am... If you'll still want to spend the rest of your life with me, then I want nothing more than to live in that future,

With you Polnareff,"  She said with happiness.

The warmth of his body radiated to hers, and for a fraction of a second she felt the same as she did before, 

Alive and human… 

Happy and accepted...

“I love you,” He said while not taking his eye off of her, never wanting to go another day without his love.

“Forever... and always,” He said with evident adoration.

[oh-for-fic-sake]

I Just Move Things

Whilst looking through luthors drives the league find a new metahuman who is to powerfull for her own good.

Masterlist

Warnings: swearing

A/n:So this is a new series of imagines with Justice league/ teen reader obviously no smut but fluff angst and everything in between i know that the pic is starlight but that’s there more for the eyes.

(not my gif/pic)

I Just Move Things

"Seriously this girl, shes incredible, Lex didn’t have much on her he only just got the footage a day or so before the whole supes vs bat thing but we are soo lucky she wasn't involved, if she uses her head she could probably wipe all of us out, we need to get here to join" Barry was giddy as he started gushing over the new mysterious metahuman who was a prime candidate for the justice league. Arthur sighed crossing his arms

"Oh really? I'm sorry but I don't see how that tiny thing could do much damage wheres her weapon?" He said unconvinced Bruce and Clark agreed somewhat looking at the photo victor had pulled up on the screen a girl who looked around sixteen sitting at a table outside a Starbucks reading a book, she looked like a typical teenager, no muscle definition to her small form, so obviously had no combat training she looked like a regular man could snap her in two, easy to over power. Victor sighed at them.

"Looks can be deceiving every thing you see in that photo is her weapon, the ground, the air, the glass in the window behind her even the chair she's sitting on she could use all of these to impale you if she wanted to ,its quite incredible watch her here look at this video." The clip was grainy showing the inside of a corner shop, she was standing by the counter blowing bubbles in her gum paying for a small bag of groceries when a man came in holding a gun screaming at the girl at the register who quickly turned around to the cash register fumbling trying to open the cash draw as he shouted pointing the gun at her making her scream and struggle even more. The teen in question moved only to be ordered to put both her hands on the counter, she did so but as soon as she did looked over her shoulder to the door blowing yet another bubble letting it pop she was very calm for a young girl who had a gun in her face she huffed took a deep breath you could see her eyes light up a little and the metal frame above the door caved in enough to hold it closed trapping them inside, neither of the others noticed to preoccupied quickly she slid a tin can into her hand and looked at the gun tilted her head to the side eyes flickering once again and the barrel caved in on itself looking like someone had pinched the end closing the hole completely making it useless, no bullets would be firing from the weapon the man when to scream confused but was struck in the temple by the can of beans dropping to the floor in a crumpled heap she kicked the gun away in case he got up. The cashier looked around crying in relief as she saw the thief had been knocked unconscious and with a quick look the metal frame quickly snapped back to its original state. She exchanged a few words with the girl who was now on the phone to the police nodding towards the security camera  the surprised she looked up you could see her curse as she looked into the lenses a grim expression eyes flashing and the video cut off, she had broke it trying to cover herself. Silence washed over the group as they came to terms with what they saw. Clark was the first to break it

"That was, different she helped tho that is a good thing she wants to do good. To protect people" Bruce spoke up next

"She didn't take chances, but that ability, what she can do its not something to take lightly, we don't know the extent of it can she do other things?" The question was directed at victor who had been scouring the cities surveillance for her.

"I've caught her a few times on cctv doing things, she practices at night around Gotham docks. And its amazing to watch, so far from what I can tell its molecular based, solids liquids and gases. I've seen her change the shape of containers, fix broken glass, she can't fly but seems she has just started to make invisible platforms to stand on and climb and when she fell she managed to make the ground sort of turn sand like to make her fall softer and she doesn't even seem to do it consciously it just sort of happens once she got up it settled like water becoming regular concrete again. Where ever she got the gift it hasn't been long, she is still trying to control them, small things are easier, like the gun and the door, but the first time she made the invisible stairs she got a nosebleed and passed out I lost her for a few weeks but when I found her again she did it again, must have practiced somewhere else as she only got a little nose bleed and didn't pass out just got dizzy" Diana sat there contemplating

"So basically this incredible power is wrapped up in a hormonal teenager  who doesn't know how to use it yet, she is still trying to figure out what she can and cant do? And no doubt soon will start testing her limits? Bruce we need to pull her in now we can't waste any time she could hurt herself or someone else" Barry nodded they all shared a look agreeing. Time to bring her in.

"Where is she?"

"She will be at the docks again tonight around nine o'clock, she has a pattern its like clock work, docks ,chemical factory and just recently started down under the main bridge towards Metropolis playing around with water". They nodded she seemed shy Clark showing up could scare her same with Diana, Barry wouldn't be a good idea he tended to fumble his words and Arthur was well Arthur. In the end it was decided Bruce would go do the talking, after all Gotham was his turf.

Well shit gonna be hard to explain this one.... you looked down sighing it was very typical tho well for you any way. You see you had a problem, or should you say gift, you could move things not just the whole abracadabra Matilda floating thing, you could move things on a molecular level..... like clay everything is clay. After practicing you now know that you can break down solids into teeny tiny grains like sand using it as sinking sand or putting it back together in a new shape and recently discovered you could pull all the teeny tiny molecules in the air together really tight it becomes an invisible force field type thingy like an instant piece of bullet proof glass, or like a platform to stand on . It was cool but difficult to control some things more then others, for instance solids where the molecules are pack tighter are easier to manipulate then water where they are all moving then air that was tricky they were fast and hard to control. And there was limitations you couldn't change anything living or growing, no plants, no animals and consequently no people. You cant heal people which you learned the hard way after cutting yourself for the sole purpose of sewing it back up nope didn't work and you wished you'd don't a shallower cut knowing it was going to leave a scar. Which sucks, but you can control the air in their lungs technically it wasn't apart of them. Loopholes, there is always a loophole. But you can fix things, like a crack phone screens burst pipes you just had to stretch things a bit or zip them up. Which brings us to this little mishap. How the fuck can you explain this, you had been trying to feel the air. You felt with your powers you liked to think of it as ripples you know like when you wave one hand under water you can feel the ripples hit the other? It was like that except you felt what the ripple hit. Kind of strange but that was the best you could come up with. So hear you was scratching your head looking at a half sunk boat, now you may be thinking boats sink all the time whats the problem?.... well normally boats sink in water not solid concrete, you had been trying to feel your ripples and pull the air below a small boat making it 'levitate' but lost your cool dropped the fucking thing panicked tried catching it and wham bam thank you ma'am boat is now half sticking out of the dock floor with a broken window. You looked up into the sky.

"Really? As if my life wasn't already a joke you gotta throw bad luck in the mix to?" You quickly closed your eyes willing the glass to reform feeling each the large pieces lift joining them selves back together slowly setting them back into the frame concentrating in 'zipping up' the seams at such a microscopic level no one would know any better. Once finished you opened your eyes, boat was still in the ground but the window was back in place. 'Yay go me' You smiled, you may not have achieved your goal of safely moving the boat but you did fix the window you broke. You sighed trying to pull the thing up again but stopped when you heard a large ominous crunching sound coming from the hull. You jumped growling pulling at you hair near your scalp.

"No no no no no this is not meant to happen just fucking move! Move up damn it!"

"Need some help?" You screamed jumping  turning around as the ground flicked up around your feet creating a small knee high spikes pointing between you and Batman?. You took a step back quickly stomping the small barrier away

"Err no no I err just out for a nice stroll haha." He hummed unconvinced looking at the boat sticking out of the ground you followed his gaze chuckling nervously scratching at your chin

".....that was like that when I got here....... I mean you see some weird shit in Gotham huh?" He looked back at you.

"I already know about your gift, you can't control it yet?" You gasped taking another step back

"Gift? What gift nope no sir-y no gifts round here."

"So I didn't just watch you drop a boat into concrete and fix the window on it?" You blinked slowly at him then heaved a heavy sigh stuffing your hand in your pockets.

"Y-you saw that? Shit I didn't mean to, I promise its just hard and i just want to stop doing things on accident....then other accidents happen a vicious cycle really" You said waving over the little accident. He nodded

"I believe you, but you were panicking, concentrate try making it sand again then harden from the bottom push up like layers like your filling in a hole go from the bottom up" you looked at him a little shocked but nodded looking at the boat feeling around beneath it with your 'ripples' making the concrete go lax hearing the hiss of it as it became loose grains before pushing up hardening thin layers from the bottom finally bringing it to the surface. You smiled happy at fixing your problem. He smirked seeing you giddy from your achievement.

"Wow thank you that helped a lot I would have been here all night before figuring that out." He nodded

"Your welcome, I'm glad I found you, we have been watching you for a while, we would like to talk to you"

"We?" You asked not really understanding

"The Justice league, you have a strong ability that we think would be useful and we wanted to see if we can help you control it we can give you training in combat weapons and hand to hand which ever you prefer." You looked at him jaw hanging open

"Your joking? You've gotta be, I just move things not really worthy of being up there with you guys,but I don't want to be used then thrown away but thanks for the help" you said turning to walk away he frowned

"We wont please you can trust us" he said reaching out quickly holding an arm dragging you back a little making you gasp and jump he then winced hissing as a thin spike quickly pierced the side of his hand that held you, you panicked.

"OH MY GOD! I'm sorry I didn't mean to! it just happens when I get scared or startled!" You quickly pushed the spike down grabbing his hand and twisting it with trembling hands hope he didn't beat the shit out of you, you'd basically just attacked him.

"Erm please stay still there are a few bits in there" you said before pulling at the little pieces of debris from the small puncture hole, when you react on instinct it doesn't end up as put together as when you actively control things hence little bits falling off and such.

"Your powers are strong I don't think your fully aware of what your capable of crushing a gun with a look is just the start, just give us a chance trust us"You let go of him hugging yourself taking a step back you felt bad you didn't mean you stood looking down waiting to see if he was angry, he seemed more sympathetic.

"Its not that I don't trust you, fuck how can I not I'm just....scared, you don't know the things I've done.....I could accidentally kill one of you then what? Be hunted down by you guys? I'm not indestructible I'm human and I haven't got control of it.... I don't even know what it is.....but its probably about time I found out I suppose I just simplify it so I don't you know....loose my nerve, bad things happen when that happens , its always frightened me... if-if I did come with you what do you guys get out of helping me? There’s always a price" he regarded you carefully he could see the fear the uncertainty in your voice it made you seem younger ,smaller lost he could tell you wanted to find somewhere to go, to find a home base and people who understood a bit like Barry in that sense he sighed smiling softly before speaking.

"Hopefully a team mate, one day someone will come and pick another fight and when they do we need to be ready, to have people we can call on to help, your strong a lot stronger then you realize this gift it-its probably made you one of the strongest metahumans on the planet,even superman was a little concerned of  encountering you that's why I'm here he chickened out." You giggled a little and he smiled relaxing, you were a good kid he could tell just scared and lost the league would be good for you give you direction.

"Really? I'm pretty sure I've got more reason to be wary of him" he smiled a little "The point is your strong and will only get stronger ,your still just learning about it we want help you, give you a safe place to learn how to control it, test your limits. Your a good kid I can see you want to help and we will give you the opportunities to do that." You nodded it did sound good, the chance to practice using this gift away from people, in a safe and controlled environment the only people around would be able to dodge and escape if things did go wrong you looked at your hands for a moment.

"...You'd really help me?"he nodded

"Not just you but we will also help protect those closest to you" you looked away

"Don’t have anyone." He stopped at that

"What? Your alone?" You shrugged nodding throwing your bag on your shoulder

"You mean family right? Don’t have one I told you bad things happen when I loose my control, I just have foster homes well had I left,better off on my own" you held his gaze you were testing him, letting him know exactly what you'd done with out saying the words guard up and waiting to see if he'd try to over power you or change his mind. He didn't know what to say to that, he could hear the others through the comms warning him to back off asking if he wanted back up, he ignored them you had killed them accidentally that much was clear. You had no one he couldn't imagine just what you had been through, but he also knew this was a test he had done it himself when he was younger, you were waiting to see if he would judge you or leave you here alone, the others wont understand that’s why they were panicking telling him to leave if he did  you'd never trust them again something none of them could risk, but it was also your way of trying to push them away. He shook his head coming closer slowing when your eyes began to glow and the floor rippled beneath his feet he raised his hands slowly the others were shouting down the line at him but you was getting defensive not readying for an attack.

"That’s why we want to help you, so nothing like that happens again I cant imagine what you've been through or what it was like but you don't have to be alone anymore or be scared" you believed him, something told you he understood pulling back from the concrete, he had plenty of time to attack you but didn't.

"And you wont be mad if I break something?" He shook his head releasing a breath he wasn't aware he was holding

"If you break something you can keep practicing until you fix it" you contemplated for a second.

"Okay then but just to see if I can fit in, don't let them make me jump.....I don't wanna shank them....you got off lightly it was aiming to go straight threw to your face... I sort of caught it a little" Bruce tensed but quickly controlled himself, the last thing you needed was to see he was slightly afraid of your gift it could feed your own fear.

"They already know, they've been watching in case they needed to help if things went bad its up to you" you gulped and nodded a little as he began walking away you hesitated looking the opposite way you could run, forget this whole meeting and leave, you sighed watching his back you had no doubt he was giving you the chance to leave you took a deep breath they could help and if it does become a con you would find a way to leave and disappear nodding you quickly jogged up behind him following him to the bat mobile he opened the back revealing two seats.

"This thing has extra seats?" He smirked down at you

"Well this one does some of the others don't." You tilted your head

"How many of them do you have?" He chuckled as you slid into the seat

"Quite a few buckle up and hold on" he said nodding the the strategically placed grab rails the shut the door a few seconds later you were moving. You shivered a little nervous you didn't think it was a bad thing to go and train somewhere more secure but one mistake and you could easily become an enemy and contrary to what they may believe you couldn't take any of them on you was still a human you still bled. You sighed leaning back a little resting your head on the seat behind you as he drove you god knows where.

[melchron]

Nightmare Time Episode 3 Thoughts

I usually save this for the end of my thoughts but I have to say this now. OMG MATT DAHAN!!! I WILL NEVER NOT BE IMPRESSED BY HIM! Usually with the episodes I catch 1 or 2 motifs but I swear I caught everyone this time. And they all fit so well. My attention was evenly split between the music and the story this time. It was so freaking good. Matt deserves all the awards like omg.

I think this is the least laggy the theme has been. Good job going all out for the last one!

I said to my mom "Did Shashona record this video?" and she did!! Great cinematography Shashona!!

I also pointed out the Tim's daddy mask. I said "Aww he's wearing a mask for his son!". I guess my mom got confused and forgot Tim's name because she thought I was talking about Dylan's (nonexistent) son.

THE DRILL PRESSES!!

LEX AND ETHAN

I kind of already knew this but I love that Ethan knows cars. I just likes that he has a hobby.

Lex cares about Tom so much I love it.

WHY DID JANE TRY TO KILL ETHAN?!?!?!? TOM DOESN'T WANT TO MAKE LOVE TO HIM!!!! DID SHE HAVE SOME PERSONAL REASONS LIKE WHY!?!??!

That Lexthan interaction was so cute. I love how he saw she was super sorry and scared and he just stopped being mad and comforted her. They are so cute I can't handle it!!

KENDALL!!! Ok so through out this whole thing I know everyone was excited for their favorite character to come back but I really just wanted to see Kendall again. I guess after BF I assumed we would never see her again because I couldn't see them working with children becoming a normal thing. But when the original cast announcement came out I got so happy to see her name. So I was super excited to see her.

Her covering her hair with a beanie looks better than the wig

UNCLE PAUL I'M SOFT I CAN'T HANDLE THIS!!!!!

Cineplex Teen is like Larry from tawog. I guess we should start calling him Obnoxious Teen then. Until we get a name.

I love that Tim immediately likes Becky. Wish I could say the same for my stepparents.

Santa Claus Is Going To High School bb. Also I want to hear the rest of that song. Also also how many wigs does Lauren own?

TONY GREEN

Why must they make love to this movie everytime? Can't we simply just watch it and make fun of like normal people? That way Tim can enjoy it too.

Good for Jane for making sure her son doesn't have to eat disgusting school lunch. She gets good mom points.

Aww Becky reassuring him he's not a Dummy

Becky is like really horny this episode. Honestly Tom's into so go ahead girl

JAIME IS JANE

OK OK OK SO Jane said they were driving home from her parents house. Which means they were still alive when Jane died. That was only a year and a half ago so the Perkins parents might have died more recently than we thought. It's like Spring of 2019 right? So Jane died around Fall 2017. I don't remember if this was said in the show (it probably was and I'm saying nothing new) but I think Black Friday takes place about a year after her death. Tgwdlm took place October 2018. They have to have died only a few months before then. How long had Emma been in Hatchetfield before tgwdlm? Maybe there is a possibility we can see a flashback of an interaction with her parents depending on how long it's been. Also that means Emma lost her whole family in the span of a few months omg. And Tim lost his mom and his grandparents in that time. I want to see how they grieved with all of that. Also I know I'm crossing universes here but Emma also almost died the same day Jane did. Some strange force must really have it out for the Perkins family. Good on Emma for surviving like a champ.

Ok so I thought they went scouting for girls because Jane didn't want the man she loved to have to devote the rest of his life to a car. I thought she was trying to help him move on. She was getting good lover points but those have since been redacted.

Jane is definitely bi and I love that for her. I don't care if she tried to kill her new crush. It was new enough for it to mean nothing.

GREENPEACE GIRL

Tom does look like a creep ngl

Jane reminds us she's a car a lot. Like girl we get it.

No. No. No. NO NO NO NO NO NO NOPE! We're not talking about it. I don't want to. I stared at James the whole and honestly same dude. I saw Nick in my peripheral vision and loved/hated that he was laughing. RIP to me watching this with my mom. RIP to Kendall. Actually rip to everyone who had to sit through that. RIP to Jaime and Dylan for having to perform that. RIP to the cursed rehearsals. Matt and Nick seriously took the time to sit down and write that. What the heck you two?!? This made me more uncomfy than the entirety of mamd and Ted's character combined. I wish I was exaggerating. Maybe this was just me but it felt longer than it needed to. The relief and worry I felt when Tim walked in is a feeling I can not explain. Glad he was clueless.

Tim sweetie I love you but SHUT UP

Jane is crazy and Jaime is doing such an amazing job at portraying that.

Yes Tom. Because grave digging is way crazier than possessed cars.

I asked my mom why the didn't just go grave digging for Jane's body but my mom said the body is probably all rotted and gross so that explains that.

Why didn't Becky just go inside? If she went far enough I doubt Jane would have been able to hit her even if she managed to break into the house. Also let's assume Becky's house had an upstairs. There, perfect safety.

Did Becky seriously die in the same woods as Stanley?

Ok so I thought the tree thing was a reference to little Irish girl Becky from the Black Friday sk10 stream. But now it seems like something more serious and bad happened so I'm curious.

DID JANE GET TOM ARRESTED?!?!? It seemed like she could drive herself at that point. Why not let him get out and get Becky yourself? Is this that self confidence thing Tom talked about?

Is she really about to have her son be obsessed with Ms. Becky for the rest of their lives or is she gonna tell him?

This next episode made me physically jump twice. I say literally a lot but I promise you I'm using it correctly when I say I literally jumped.

KENDALL'S SINGING

I saw the thing about the ukelele being a bday gift from the cast so this was super sweet

Ok personal time. My grandmother's name is Pamela and my mom decided to permanently cut ties with her a few months ago due to her abusive behavior. Me and my sibling are still allowed to talk to her whenever we please but we haven't seen her as much as we used to. I got kind of scared watching this with my mom because I was scared this would trigger something. She didn't say anything and I didn't want to bother her about if she was fine so I didn't say anything. Anyway this just kind of hit different for me.

JAIME'S RANGE OMG

"I want to be alone with my man." Ms what are you about to do to your Tv?

DON'T GIVE HER BEER

Duke seems chill. I like him.

LEX AND ETHAN GOT ARRESTED!?!?!? FOR SELLING HER PILLS!?!??! THAT SHE TOLD THEM TO SELL!?!?!? I HATE HER!!!

Does Ms. Foster have a type or is being male good enough?

Hannah's 14? I thought she was the same age as Tim. I could have sworn in the BF commentary track they said she was 9 or 10. Did my brain make that up?

How does Kim change her hair so quickly? She did this in episode 2 too? I could never. I am very impressed.

Curt and Kim talking over the phone while standing shoulder to shoulder was funnier than it should have been

Ms. Holloway is cool. YAY MOSTLY GOOD WITCHES

How does Ms. Holloway know? I need a backstory please!!

Ok so I saw Jon in his cape and thought he might be the with. But then I saw James in his cape I y'know stopped thinking that. Anyway I'm obsessed with Jon and James in capes. Kind of wish Corey had one too.

OH I JUST THOUGHT THIS AS I'M TYPING NOW ok so that tree she was talking to at the beginning was one of the tree people. I'm embarrassed it took me this long to realise it.

Hannah is way too calm about these talking trees and sometimes spider ladies. I respect that.

There was a lot of black and white theming in this episode. More than normal. It makes me more curious about what exactly Hannah's connection to it is.

Hannah almost died in her own mind. I was kinda hating Ms. Holloway in this moment because she forced Hannah to go into her mind. But I know she had to so I'm cool with her again.

THE STARLIGHT THEATER

Did she really say just don't be scared next time? Like miss some actual advice would help.

CAN MS. HOLLOWAY'S MIND LEAVE HANNAH ALONE?? Like I know you didn't get the reaction you wanted out of her but you're seriously gonna give up and go for a little girl instead. Pathetic.

"What's shakin', Banana?" That was the first time I jumped.

WIGGLY

What exactly is that 6-legged girl? I wish we had a visual. Also how couldn't Ms. Holloway help her? What was her issue? Npmd you got anything for me?

Wiley. Just seeing him come up. That was the second time I jumped.

Also everyone already said this but props to Joey for his commitment. Shaving in between episodes like omg sir you didn't have to go all out for this. But you did and I appreciate you for it. Also HE KEPT THE JACKET?? WHAT!??! Just fully committed to this character go off Joey!!

Usually I would laugh at stuff phasing through the green screen but this just made it creepier.

HOLLOWAY AND WILEY/WILBUR BACKSTORY PLEASE

But also I love how the script had him listed at Wilbur above his lines. I remember Nick called him Wilbur once in the commentary track (possibly by accident) but it's nice to have it in cannon. I don't remember I any of the characters called him Wilbur because I'm so used to seeing Wilbur and Wiley used interchangeably but this was just nice to have canonized.

DUKE PAY ATTENTION!! FREAKING USELESS RIGHT NOW!!!

Dang Wiley she was already being choked in the physical world you didn't have to choke her in her mind too calm down

YAY MORE DOLLS

NICK I WAS KIDDING ABOUT AN APOTHEOSIS DOLL

Is the mouth one (I see we've named him Nibbly. Good because his full name is too long to type out) gonna be the npmd villain? The pick color theme seems cool.

ANGELA'S TRANSITION THOUGH!!! Omg she switched roles seamlessly. And her voice too!! Go off Angela.

MARIAH IS WEBBY

This is random and unrelated but I never noticed how big Mariah's eyes were before.

So Webby and the Doll Gang are all siblings? I find it interesting that the were described to all where black. And Webby's color theme is white. Like how the good and bad ukeleles were white and black. This might sound really dumb see as we don't have a 100% accurate visual of the black and white but I wonder if Webby ever left would it be 100% black? Like if Wiggly went through the portal would it become a little less black? Does this make sense? Also I'm starting to see the black and white as less of a bad place. Its starting to see more ominously neutral.

Hannah's favorite show is He-Man no I do accept criticism.

Ms. Holloway is a nerd. She saw Hannah make the reference and was like "Huh. I f she likes He-Man maybe making this hat a reference will make her like me." She would only know if she watched the show. But then again she seems to be stuck in the 80s so maybe she just thinks that's what's popular with the kids.

MS. HOLLOWAY PLEASE GET LEX AND ETHAN BACK

AND ANOTHER GREAT SONG TO END IT OFF

This episode was......a lot. So much happened. Loved all of it. I am scared of Nick and Matt's minds but also incredibly grateful for them. As usual everyone's acting was top notch.

I love this episode.

Also I'm just gonna say it. Jon ruined Nick's season one reveal.

[breyito]

Brittle

TITLE: Brittle  AUTHOR/ARTIST: @breyito (read also on AO3) PROMPT DAY : Day 4: Hurt/Comfort for @geraskierweek SUMMARY: Post- Ep. 6Jaskier is on his way to being mostly allright, when an unexpected meeting with Geralt tears all his efforts apart. WORD COUNT: 2.1 k BOOKS/NETFLIX/2002 SHOW/VIDEO GAME: Netflix show TRIGGERS/WARNINGS: Angst. Hurt no Comfort. Emotional pain.   RATING: Teen and up ADDITIONAL NOTES: Yeah...I chose hurt. Ooops? ñ.ñ  I couldn't help it!!! I just love Jaskier and his angsty-potential!!! Tbh, I've read some amazing post-ep.6 fix-it fics, but I'm of the opinion that some things you just don't forgive; at least not without effort from the other part. Hence, this was born. I knoooow that Geraskier Week is ending, but RL is a bitch and writing (even if I've written more this week than the past semester, jeez) is hard. I plan to finish all the prompts, even if it takes me another week lol. Tho I'm having a hard time to come up with ideas for the last two days, so...help?? Enjoy the pain!!

When they find the bard, he is singing in a small tavern. This far North the Nilfgaard army has not being able to reach, yet; but refugees have been traveling and passing through, and it is noticeable. The place is fairly full, the ambient warm from the fire on the hearth and the ammount of bodies. The mood of the people, though, is solemn and gloom. The usual joyful tunes and bawdy lyrics that make most of Jaskier's songs would not be welcome; but his most recent works, full of longing and despair are listened to with the aumost attention; people eager to feel conected in their grief.

~I need time to replace, what I gave away~

He is singing with his eyes closed, the melody pouring out of him without effort; and he does not see them enter: the sorceress, the princess and the two Witchers.

~Though I try to resist I still want it all ~

The four of them sit in a corner, willing to wait until the performance is over; but the white haired witcher does not take his eyes away from the bard for a second.

~I see a little house on the beach and children's names I see quiet nights poured over ice and the sweetest ale~

Geralt tries really hard not to think that the song is about him, because surely it can't be. Neither of them are built for a quiet life and a settled home; and yet he can't stop hearing the hopeful proposal of 'lets go to the coast for a while' that he never responded to, which was on itself an answer of its own.

~But everything is shattering and it's my mistake~

Vesemir notices the moment the lark sees Geralt, because his body fills with tension, his shoulders go back and his eyes fill with something else: anger, pain, hurt. He feels the sharp inhale Geralt takes of the man’s souring scent, and hears the aborted whine that climbs up his troath.

~Only fools fall for you, only fools Only fools do what I do, only fools fall~

The sorceress thinks to herself that there is no way the dumb Witcher can miss the song being about him. The bard is practically singing it to him, not looking away once. The rest of the place might not notice, but the four of them on the table know. Even without the enhanced senses she thinks she can smell the betrayal and the hurt the bard pours out in every exhale. She did not know things were so dire between the two men, or she would have insisted on Geralt aproaching first, with an apology at the ready; instead of ambushing him to ask such a big favour.

~Only fools fall…~

As soon as the song finishes the bard jumps into action; throwing the few coins in the floor into his lute case and sprinting for the back door. Obviously, they follow. Or, Yennefer and Geralt do, leaving Ciri with Vesimir inside, to protect her.

~*~

Jaskier has never believed the saying that Witchers have no emotions; that they can't feel and only care for killing and coin. Because if that were true, then why would they help?why would they risk their own lives for the ungrateful little beings that humans are? They are hated, spat on, cursed, stoned...and yet they continue to travel seeking for monsters to kill and people to save. Surely it would be easier to just take whatever they want, instead of getting barely what they need? They could stop traveling, live in the woods or the mountains, hunt and plant and live quietly; until people grew desperate enough to seek them out and pay whatever amount they demand for killing whatever creature is tormenting the pesky little humans. Or become bandits, roaming the roads and stealing and killing as much as they want. It's not a big secret (just something people like to forget) that they can control the minds of people with their magic (similar to the way mages can, but they don't, not usually). They could take over a city, a kindom. They could do so many things; things that would turn them into the monsters people already treat them as. But they don't. They just keep picking themselves up after a badly payed hunt, a stoning, a beating for just exhisting; and they go back to the Path. So no, Jaskier has never believed the rumours about Witchers not having feelings. Traveling with Geralt only proved him right.

But right now he wishes it were true.

Because if the lack of emotional conexions was something biological, something they did to Witchers on those cursed Trials; if love and care and affection was something they forced them to erase, this would be easier. It would mean Geralt doesnt care for him because he literally can't. But knowing he has such a bottomless heart; that he cares, so deeply; having seen first hand how far his affection goes...and yet know none of it is directed to him? Know that he's just an annoyance, a passing amusement, some silly human the man took pity in? That's torture. Jaskier doesnt know what to do now. What do you do when you realize (when someone literally has to spit it to your face because you just won't get it) that the person you built your life around despises you? How do you keep moving on, when you have linked yourself (your sense of being, your sense of worth) so fully to another being and that other is no longer there? When you have spent more of your life by their side than alone? How do you manage without them?

Somehow, he endures.

It takes time, and acting skills, and ale and some new-found interest in weapons and fighting to release all that anger coursing through him; but he copes. He stills feels brittle, like all his pieces were put in the right order but not glued back together, and a minimal shift can break him apart again. There’s nothing to do about the pain, not really; just wait for it to dull until it’s an ache and not searing pain (like the throb you feel in a broken ankle when it’s going to rain years after it happened; not the excruciating pain of the exposed bone through ruptured flesh). He’s not there yet; but he feels like he could be, in a few more months (or years, being realistic, but realism has never been his strong suit, has it?).

There’s a war going on, after all, and he can’t give himself the luxury of pining when people are being killied left and right. He stops singing about White Wolves and monsters; because Princess Cirilla is still unacounted for, and people are starting to remember (after years of a heavy silence imposed by Calanthe) that Geralt of Rivia was to claim her by the Law of Surprise. He has made a name for himself and the last thing he wants it’s to be taken hostage on the missguided notion that Geralt would give a rat’s ass about him and come to his rescue. He is not that stupid. 

So he crafts another identity, another name and life and repertoire (he’s lucky that enough songs from Jaskier are being sung by other minstrels, so he doesn’t runs out of ballads and dittys while he composes new material), changes his image to fit in rather than stand out (more earthy colors with minimal embellishments, embroidered by his own hand), grows a beard (still carefully maintained) and lets his hair reach his shoulders. He sings more about longing and loses, homesickness and heartbreak; but still tries to end the performances on a high note, a cheerful tune (people respond better, when they can sing their woes but still feel hope at the end of another dark day).  

Or at least that is what he usually does. It only takes Geralt to show up once for all his careful work to come tumbling down. He can feel his grief start to choke him and barely manages to finish the song (and of course it’s about Geralt, because all his songs about heartbreak are about him) before he’s gathering his things in a hurry and running for the door. He just wants to get to his room at the inn before he starts to unravell. Of course he doesn’t get to, because the damn Witcher and the fucking witch follow him and cut him off.

“Jaskier.”

“That’s not my name.” he answers in a lower registry. It’s useless, he knows, but he still tries to side step and continue on his way. A hand grabs his forearm and the strenght behind it stops him short. He can feel the heat of his palm scorching his flesh even under all those layers and he starts to shake.

“Jaskier.”

“What? I’m on my way to the inn, I’ll be gone by morning. You-”

“Jaskier”

“-don’t have to see me or talk to me-”

“Jaskie-”

“-or even acknowledge me so-”

“Jaskier!”

“-what do you want!?” he screams, and his voice carries into the darkness around them. “What could you possibly want from a shit-shoveling useless minstrel, uh!?” 

He can tell that both the Witcher and the sorceress are shocked by his outburst; and he takes advantage of this by shaking the hand off and walking a few more feet away from them.

“Jaskier. We need you.” Is what he hears next, and the words make him stop. He lets loose a bitter short laugh.

“Oh, haven’t you heard, woman, that he doesn’t need anyone?” he hears steps behind him and continues walking, “And I wouldn’t go depending on him very much either. He tends to bite and run the other way when that happens, you know?” The Witcher gets ahead of him and grabs his shoulders, thightly and pushes him against a wall.

“Don’t do that.” he growls, shaking him, impatient. “She’s done nothing to-”

"How is it, Geralt” Jaskier interrumpts, finally looking into Geralt’s eyes “that you go out of your way to respect, protect, love” he spats the word out “people that  curse your name, spit on you, wish you dead and use you so badly that you have nothing left when they are done with you;” he doesn’t even try to pretend the words aren’t about certain witch that has apparently deemed the Witcher’s company good enough again, he sees her flinch at the quick look he shots her but pays it no mind “but show nothing but disgust towards the one person who has always stood by you?" he sees the way Geralt recoils at that, but honestly, if he can lash out when he feels hurt then he deserves to hear the pain he caused others.

"Jas-"

"What did I had to do; what did I had to change; what else did I had to sacrifice for you to give me a sliver of your affection?” He can’t hold his gaze anymore and just looks over his shoulder, tears escaping uninvited. “Just a morsel, a fucking crumb of yourself?" His voice breaks and fuck, he wanted to finish this conversation with the last dregs of his dignity intact, but he doesn’t even get that, does he?

"Jaskier, I'm so-" despite the fact that Jaskier has spent the last fucking year wanting to hear an apology from the man that destroyed his heart; right now he can’t. He suddenly feels so tired. Brittle, like that single word could make him crumble and disperse his very core to the winds. He swallows a moan and starts begging.

"Please, leave." he pauses, to see if the other man will, for once, heed his request. He doesn’t, of course. " Geralt, please, leave." he pleads. The Witcher lets go of his shoulders, but opens his mouth. But Jaskier won’t let him speak, not if he doesn’t want to end the night reduced to more pieces. "You are no good to me witcher. You wound me; it hurts. Everytime I think of you a fucking hole opens in my chest and threatens to consume whole.” he starts wheezing, but keeps talking, trying to explain his pain, to make him understand how badly those scarred hands have wounded him. “Seeing you here... Listening to your voice? It’s ripping me to pieces."

"Ja-" the bard feels like puppet whose string was cut. He falls to the floor in a crouch, hugging himself, trying to contain the void growing in his chest.

"Geralt, have mercy." he sobs, desperate. He hides his face between his knees, tears and snot being absorved by the dark fabric.

Finally, Geralt leaves. The keens and sobs of pain follow him all the way back to the tavern.

"Good gods, what have you done to him, Witcher?" Vesemir asks when they return to the table. The piercing cries continue on in the night.

~*~

Mmm, are those reworked lyrics from Troye Sivan?? Yes, yes they are. I just love this song and I had to tweak the lyrics a bit so they fit better, but I love the result, tbh. Thanks for reading!!! Ideas for day 6 (destiny) and day 7 (free day) are accepted ;P

Kisses

[mhatails]

Deku

Summary: Izuku Midoriya.Short. Timid. A mumbling and bumbling mess of green locks and viridian doe-eyes.

Katsuki Baukgou. Cocky. An ego that can fill a small room. Can't form one sentence without snarling, or barking at whoever is on the receiving end. Let alone not adding the word 'fuck' too every threat he spits out

Now how do these two polar opposites meet?

Website: [Fanfiction.net] [AO3] 

An AU where Izuku doesn’t know Katsuki before attending U.A.

Izuku Midoriya.

Quirkless.  

Nothing in his life made him feel more numb than that realization. Growing up with the dream of becoming a Pro Hero never hindered him, it made him more bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. Little doe-eyed Izuku zoomed across his quaint apartment he shared with his Mom; Inko Midoriya.

Jumping over the couch, ducking under the dinning table. Petite little hands grasping unto the All Might cape tied around Little Izuku's neck. A toothy grin on full display, not a single care in the world for this young boy. These shenanigans were a daily occurrence in the Midoriya household. Inko held pride and fullness in her viridian eyes, stealing longing glances at her sleeping son. 

Who majority of the time would be out cold laying on the living room couch, wrapped-up in his All Might cape. Draping over his petite frame, engulfing his torso. Tiny legs and feet hanging over the edge of the couch, sometime during the night Inko would scope up the limp body from the couch, bringing Little Izuku to his bedroom. All Might posters littered the walls- floor to ceiling- All Might figurines lining the selves of all variations.

Paused on the desktop in Little Izuku's room was an old video of All Might saving three civilians, two under each arm and one thrown over his left shoulder. 

Fire dances across the screen, grey smoke hanging in the corner of the computer screen. All Might's infamous ear-splitting grin in full view splayed across the screen in 1080p, this three minute video was Izuku's pride and joy. 

Every day without hesitation, Izuku would be tugging on his Mom's hand, "Mommy! It's time! I want to watch the video!" dragging her to his bedroom.

Izuku sat at the same desk chair, staring into space. With the same All Might video echoing in the background, blank expression plastered to his face, tears spilling over, new tears staining the already wet rounded cheeks. Inko pressed into Izuku's side, her arms encircled around Izuku's frame. Face buried into the crook of his neck, mumbling, with choke sobs wracking her small frame.

"I'm so sorry baby," is all she could choke out between the waves of sobs overtaking her.

Quirkless.

Izuku knew from then on out, he was the center of attention. Not the typical attention most middle schoolers craved, praised. For succeeding in getting a complicated equation right, or finally making a change in one's actions. Izuku never craved any of that useless attention from anybody, he was not a complicated boy. 

He just wanted to be a Pro Hero.

Huffing a deep sigh, Izuku shut his locker after collecting all his school books from the day. Shoving all the textbooks in his schoolbag, one strap over his shoulder. Shoulders hunched in, not breaking eye contact from the stark white tiled floor. The curly green strands of hair, hang over Izuku's eyes.

Sounds of shoes scuffing the floor echoed the hallway. "Quirkless! Are you ever going to get anywhere in life? I for one will admit- cause one else will- think you should just jump off a building! Maybe then your quirk will actually show up!" 

Izuku didn't even flinch at the insinuation, in his daily life at school it was bound to happen sooner or later. Banter's between fellow students, 'quirkless? No way?! I have never even thought of that,' and 'that little bitch has nothing, why is he still here?.' All of it was resonating in Izuku, none of it mattered to him. He never asked to be quirkless, nor did he want to be quirkless.

‘Shit, I'm crying?’ When did that start? 

Izuku's fingertips brushed his freckled cheek, gently. Tears to normal people were a sign of weakness; disgrace, broken. To Izuku tears was a sign of courage, pure strength. These tears were shed time and time again, over Izuku being "weak".  Tears embodied the hurt Izuku suffered for being quirkless, always being belittled. 

Izuku clenched his fist, knuckles turning white. Blunt nails pressing crescent shapes into his palms, blood was trickling in slow paths down the side of his clenched palm. Izuku brought his bottom lip between his teeth, chewing on it, mercilessly. 

Being quirkless will not define him, just because he doesn't have quirk, will not mean he can't become a Hero.

                                      ___________________________

U. A. Highschool

Izuku Midoriya prevails in one thing, attending the top hero school in Japan. If somebody told him that he would be attending U.A. a month ago he would have keeled over in the fetal position. Not even a month and a half ago, did he mindlessly run headfirst into a brawl between a person with a sledge type of quirk, and a boy his age. Being choked from the inside by that crazy bastard, a futile attempt at saving the teen.

“You crazy bastard! What the fuck?! W-what..?” crimson eyes wide, with shock.

Clawing at the slime that bound the teen, “I may not know you, my leg’s just started running all on their own! Damn it! I won’t let you die!” Izuku barked, raw determination laced with every syllable escaping the greenette’s lips.

That is the fateful day Izuku Midoriya received One For All. All Might sought out Midoriya that same day, bearing him the chance of being his Successor. Izuku was a bumbling and mumbling mess, a flushed face. Tears staining his freckled cheeks, snot induced. 

His typical soft features now wore the fire of a new life. Shifting his viridian eyes, to All Mights blue inferno ones.

“I shall be the next One For All Holder.”

Now here he is, staring up at the expense building of U.A., three years of hero training and real-life experience. One step into a new life-

Izuku face planted straight into the concrete in front of every first year.

“That is a great way to make first impressions, Midoriya.” Mumbling to himself, his cheeks flushed a soft pink. Racing back to his feet, a somewhat futile attempt at a tight lip smile. Scratching the back of his neck, a tiny sigh.

There go any chance of making a good impression on his fellow classmates, shutting his eyes to try to calm his erratic heart rate. Opening his eyes, he came face-to-face with crimson red ones.

Yelping, taking one step back. Completely breathless, Izuku placed his hand over his heart. “W-what are doing?! You nearly made my heart leap from my chest!” Izuku fretted, hand still on his chest.

A devilish smile spread across the blondes face, “why the fuck would I care? You're that idiot, who was trying to get to me that day of the attack?” he asked. Izuku did a once over the blonde, the same crimson eyes.

Izuku’s hand fell to his side. “H-hold o-on, your him?” Izuku sputtered, eyes going wide. The blonde scoffed in response.

“The fuck is it to you, nerd.”

Izuku’s mouth felt like cotton, dry. No words were forming, or his mind just completely shut down. 

“Izuku Midoriya.”

One blonde eyebrow quirked up, arms crossed over a broad chest, the same stone cold sneer evident on the blondes face.

“Katsuki Bakugou,” he says, a gentle tone intertwined in the introduction. 

Shoving both hands into his uniform pockets. Katsuki's stone cold sneer,  the corner of his mouth tugged up into a small smile. The sneer plastered to the blondes face, smoothed over.

Midoriya nodded his head, “Bakugou…” Izuku whispered to himself. 

“Tch,” Katsuki grunts in response, rolling his eyes.

“Deku,” Katsuki smirked, crimson eyes bore into the viridian eyes of Deku. 

[pappywankenobi]

My thoughts, 8/29/2020 This year....has been the most confusing and frustrating year I have ever had. Let's roll back time and start at the beginning.

I grew up during the space race, a war, and the bicentennial of this country. Living on the east coast of Florida I watched men go to the moon....and then as a teen a movie came along and changed my life. Star Wars....and the dreamer in me saw so many possibilities. Growing up I wanted to either be a pilot ( planes or helicopters ) or an astrophysicist. Strange but yes if i couldn't fly among the stars I wanted to fly around this planet.

My influences were obviously my parents ,family, and the things you could do at the time which were books and comics. My love for the military came from my family and parents. My faith ,and wonder for the possibilities the world offered came mostly from comics....some DC but the majority was Marvel. Stan Lee and the tales he told subconsciously taught me about respect and love for my fellow humans. Trust me growing up when I did things were very angry....people were not happy with the Vietnam War, race relations especially in the south were very contentious.

So my great escape was reading, whether it was learning about the universe and the technical aspects of flying the best place I was able to find balance was comics. Batman was a double edged sword, I understood the need for vengeance but also saw the repercussions of seeking it. Loving archery Green Arrow was the same as the Bat but also a bit of a Robin Hood tossed in. My favorite though was the Flash. I loved to run....so yah he was cool. Now on the Marvel side let's start with Spiderman...he was a kid with great power thrust upon him...who looked for glory but found out that ignoring the responsibility of how you lived your life could come back and destroy you.

So I grew up with love in my heart, seeing people not color, gender, religion, or country of origin. At times I paid the price for this from family, and friends. I kept myself closed off. It was at this time in my life that my world took an unexpected turn, my parents divorced, and my father who was always my hero was going to be able to spend more quality time with me. My sister moved out with my mom and I felt like this was a chance for us to really connect. But it wasn't to be as a few months later he remarried. That year I went to my mom's for Christmas and never left. I was 15. Many strange things and events later I was 16,disillusioned, and was mentally done. I took my high school equivalency test,passed it and moved out on my own. At 17 I was working full time and taking care of myself and paying for rent and everything that came with being a grown up. Then at 21 I found a job where just under 20 years I grew and had a good career. I was married for 10 years,but was not happy and not wanting to be like my father I just accepted my fate.

Video games became a big source of escape, and one game in particular was huge source of fun. Our clan was Boba Fetts, and we had shirts made. While in the local mall a young man approached me and asked if I was a Star Wars fan, laughing i assumed he noticed my shirt and replied of course, he guided me to a web site Yahoo World of Star Wars , a place where you could hangout, discuss and write about the Star Wars universe. I loved to write stories so I looked it up and it would wind up changing my life forever.

It was during this time of being around people with the same likes and beliefs i had,opened my eyes. These people were more family to me than most of my blood. So big changes occurred, I told my father I was done with him treating me like a kid, after all I had retired from a job with just a few months away from 20 years so yah I was a man thank you very much. I also told him my issue with him was that not once in my life did I ever remember him ever saying to me I love you son. All he had to do was say those 3 words and all would be forgiven. He couldn't bring himself to say it, his loss in the end. So emboldened I relayed my feelings about my marriage and was told that I should give up the things that I enjoyed, but my spouse could still do whatever she wanted and quit being dramatic. I had at that moment had enough and began the process of getting a divorce and moving away from my home state. On a whim I had a friend in Michigan that suggested I come stay with them, it was the best choice I ever made. We became close and 2 years later we were married, a few years later our son was was born, and a few years after that our second son was born. Life was good, I had a decent job and things were great.

Then two years ago my life changed forever, while at work I lifted a box and stacked it on a pallet like I had done many times before but had a terrible pain in my shoulder. Turned out I tore my rotator cuff, during the time I waited for surgery it became worse and I suffered tremors. Surgery was done and it was pretty much significant damage, a 90% tear and the detachment and reattachment of my bicep. During rehab, I still suffered tremors, fearing it was nerve damage I saw a neurologist and was hit broadside with a diagnosis of Parkinson's disease. I was devastated. I was moved to a job that was less physical but I still suffered from pain and tremors to the extent that my doctor prescribed the highest level of medication for the treatment of the tremors and short term disability to give me a chance to heal and get my body in a place that allowed me to get back to work. So I returned to work, but I just couldn't keep up at the end of each day I was in pain and by the weekend I was useless. This year in March I went back on short term disability, and 1 week later Covid hit, and the world turned upside down. Here i was at home, understanding i was in bad shape and with my sons out of school and asking all kinds of questions and trying to answer them without scaring them. Now I'm sitting here, getting ready to transition to long term disability,becoming a stay at home dad, teaching my kids at home this year because of my health, including the fact I have type 2 diabetes along with my others issues and my kids are afraid that if they go to school they may infect me and I will die of covid, thank God school is offering virtual learning, then last night, one of my favorite comic characters, who was perfectly portrayed by Chadwick Boseman, T'Challa, The Black Panther has passed away at 43 of cancer, 11 years younger than me....has hurt me to my core. Not to mention the fact that 40 years later since Star Wars came out and my feelings that we are all humans and that race would not be an issue anymore sitting here seeing no change has led me to one hope, hope we can end the hate, end the fear,become the caring,loving, people not only that we can be but have to be. The sooner we put away our fears and accept that we are one people, humans of earth, and realize that 98% of us are good and that no matter what 2% of us are bad, but the good ones of us are the majority and we have to stop letting those that are the minority stop controlling us and say we are not taking it no more, the sooner we will be the great people we can be and this world will be a better place.

[ckcker]

Unpaid Intern

Watch, as eagle mistakes abandoned diaper for baby dall sheep carcass on video.  Giggle, divided into thirds.  Watch in a room that smells of must-see.  An unrelaxed giggle, a well-placed giggle.  Giggle for two.  

Template: Eerie Light — an unrelaxed dreamer.  Broken-hearted moobs, real under a giggle.  Real and rancid as a crushed Peep between mattress and wall. Memories of a crushed Peep en route.  Unglanced moobs of a dreamer.  SNAFU of crushed Peep.  Mold untold, heartpinged violence for an air-bulged dreamer.  Thin sneeze of a repressed dreamer, pining for an evil attitude.  FUBAR of indolence.  Stare into a SNAFU and sprint at a reckoning.  

The moobs are prepared for the group.  The giggle is prepared for the moobs. Watching a story of the body.  

The giggle is released.

On what the past several years of drifting have taught me.  Fear can take up a lot of time, drifting has no built-in revelations.  My unpaid internship.  A long pause for no revelations.  I would not want to watch a horror movie where the protagonist is already enlightened and so does not care if they live or die.  No reason for an audience to follow along.  But, good for the protagonist, that is a very mature mindset.  When it comes the gore will feel very peaceful.  As a young child walking with her mother says “hi” to me on the sidewalk and she walks by.  I smile involuntarily and say “hello” back.  The progression of knife-picked thoughts is, under this sudden sweetness, compressed and stowed.  The child has ordered me to engage with the surroundings and respond and smile.  I continue to walk home and for four of those five minutes continue to feel this way, reeling with the pleasant surprise.  Shivering with the undreamt-of giggle.  

Under such conditions did I find myself thinking of Rob somewhat rapidly as I turned the block of my apartment building; it felt like a moment to agitate some details.  He was a hedonist of indeterminate sexuality and indeterminate politics.  He had multiple young friends who were fond of wearing very specific t-shirts.  He worked as an unpaid intern for a company with an indeterminate name, maybe, Personal Options?  He had trouble explaining the tasks of this unpaid internship.  He arrived at a term he made up that one notices him to believe is professional enough: Visual Indexer.  He would say this in a way that communicated an unforeseen weakness to one day appear to others as “professional.”  Beyond this tragic motive, there was no indication anywhere else that entering a realm of prepared hierarchies and the collection of strangers’ respect was at all an interest.  He had the impulsive life pus flooding a young person who has that corrective obsession with the massacre of all infectious traditional boundaries.  Often this had taken the form of the most cheerful defenestration.  As if Rob and his friends regularly made the plan to collect any abandoned objects in the neighborhood of a certain base weight on their way back to our apartment complex and, come drink time, freely pirouette-launch the janky wares from the balcony.  

The neighbors did not seem to care, how could I not be jealous, I was one pathetic moan too old to feel that form of relief.  I touched the extreme upper bridge of my nose which was sore from having accidentally planted it at high speed on the top edge of my slightly angled-in laptop when reaching beyond it to grab a 4 x 6 photo of myself from my late teens.  I thought it a good sign that I was so unconsciously prepared to pummel my face — could it mean that, when that liberating moment finally trembled my way, I would have 100% lack of regret in the irreversible ripening of my useless young flesh?  I could only hope so.  I could also only hope it was as irreversible a procedure as I had imagined it, I often needed to remind myself that I had absolutely no understanding of science.  Indeed Rob’s friend Q.C. had once worn a black t-shirt with a graphic of a beretta on it and underneath it the writing, “ONE SIZE FITS ALL.”  I could not know the tone with which he wore it.  Rob was a Visual Indexer, I did find the term interesting.  The 4 x 6 print of myself was one of many laying on my water-stained table.  Portraits of myself at various ages, alone, printed at a very popular national pharmacy that also sold algae-encrusted vegan turmeric chips and had wine tastings every Friday from 5-7. Portraits at 16, 23, 25, 19, 26, 19, 21, I had the idea to tape them on my wall, sit against them with my eyes closed, and take photos of myself, to try to trace a timeline.  I would close my eyes to perform that I was feeling deeply.  In this photo of myself at 16, I had just a few questions about what is possible.  In this photo of myself at 23, I am apparently cross-eyed.  In this photo of myself at 19, a noticeable uptick in moobs.  

One of Rob’s friends, Bianca (who once, in my presence, and against the seeming silent contract between Rob and his other friends, asked him how he had enough money to live alone when he didn’t make any money at his internship and had no other job, and to which Rob did not even try to respond but only left the room mimicking an animatronic Halloween decoration witch laugh) had told a story of her teen years where, emboldened by some older users in a chatroom she compulsively frequented, used to scream non-white racial slurs at white people shopping at Target and Kohl’s and yell “dyke” and “faggot” at hetero couples holding hands in the street.  Though she told these anecdotes in a withdrawn and ashamed performance, she must have recognized how they might impress her group of friends who could only laugh at the altogether untraditional, societally unacceptable and, bottom line wacky behavior of their friend, who now seemed to be a reverent, committed radical anarchist that, when waiters weren’t looking, ate leftover food from plates less committed people abandoned at various restaurants.  How would I ever save enough money to look peerless and decrepit?  In this photo of myself at 21, a genuine smile, so wild it would seem I am kidding.

With some cheap make-up also bought at the pharmacy that had wine tastings, I had begun to stealthily repair my thriving fat eyebrows with highlights of white, probably only noticeable to me but done in the hopes that the powerful undertone would inch towards a different reception of my face when it was in conversation.  “Nice to meet you” the young video director had said to the middle-aged CEO, they shook hands and the CEO said, “it’s nice to be met.” Upon being introduced to Bianca one afternoon — despite my control system being against the idea of leaving my eremitic pouch, increasingly I found myself accepting invitations to Rob’s apartment — I had carefully prepared these brows blanched in the white of the faintest melting snowflake and so felt just a smidge-stain more futurist and directed.  Just one look at my altered face and people could conclude, “there is nothing different” though I hoped for, “there is nothing different?”  Bianca had looked at my face, I assumed she had never seen it before, we shook hands and her grip was severe.  Her face smiled.  Perhaps one of these elements was meant as a distraction from the other.  There was no comment from Bianca or even lingering-and-falling eye pointed towards my one-sixty-forth-assed aging attempt.  Though he was not there that day, I surprised myself by pulling up badly remembered thoughts of Q.C., as Bianca and Rob discussed the new urban development of a neighborhood that was a couple miles away.  I thought I had remembered the shape of his face and at least the shade of brown in his eyes.  But inevitably, my attempts to display a likeness in my mind were shaved down, and major facial characteristics uncontrollably replaced with the swiftly recalled appearance of a now-grown-and-unsuccessful child star I never had the option not to know or recognize.  I thought, ‘the more I see of Q.C. the more I will be able to remember of him when I am alone.’  Such projects brought their own gore, pah, the gore of worry, the worry I will be derailed.  It wasn’t my place to let myself get in the way of my own revenge.  The most grotesque escape.  This is the strategy, sadness reappears as logistics.  

I was not here to re-engage the viability of my young-ish body for the scarfing of others, I was here to become a vibe-threatening vision of near-death for the rest of my burgeoning life and also I was here to watch the yearly romantic elder comedy starring actresses and actors such as Meryl Streep and Jack Nicholson.  I was just bent by the way his shoulders filled out the black t-shirt with a beretta on the front, when glanced at with his face turned away.  There is no choice but to notice.  “A new condo with several stories is being built just down the block from where I am taking improv classes,” Bianca tells us.  “And next to it I think there’s going to be some big retail store with a giant parking lot.”  “Ok,” Rob suggests, “let’s just say ‘that’s fucked up’ and continue.”

[mama-m1na]

Welcome to the Game: Chapter 1

                                                      ~~~I~~~

The ravenette sighed as she rolled out of bed to turn off her alarm.

It was hard for her to breath as her nose was stuffed, her body was hurting all over, and it hurt to move her mouth because her lips her so dry.

Throwing her blankets to the side, the seventeen-year-old stood up with difficulty as pain rang out in her knee.

Limping over to her closet, the female picked out an outfit for the day before going into her bathroom.

After washing her face, brushing her teeth, getting dressed, and taking care of the raven locks that fell to her butt, the teen walked downstairs to grab an already prepared breakfast made by her grandmother as she headed to the table by her kitchen window.

She spent fifteen minutes eating while watching Youtube videos as the local news played in the living room.

“Now, as of last night it appears that someone has broken out of a prison located in San Diego and police are saying they have no clue who it was. Their records have been completely wiped from the system; however, the guards there all remember his face,” the news anchor spoke causing the breath of the ravenette to hitch as her eyes widened and slowly panned up to the television, “Police are saying that the inmate was not that dangerous but to please keep an eye out for a male who is about six feet tall, with a lean build, with pale skin, shoulder length brown hair, looking to be about in his early twenties.”

Just as the story changed an older Filipino woman walked into the living room to take a seat while the ravenette placed her plate by the sink before rushing back up to the safety of her room.

‘There’s no way it could be him,’ she thought, scratching at her neck while looking outside her window before closing the blinds, ‘Even if it was him, there’s no way I’d ever see him again. I made sure of that.’

Ting!

The text tone cause the girl to jump as she shakily reached out for her phone, scared to find something linking back to the incident she’d so desperately tried to forget only to sigh in relief when she saw a text from her friend, Lyle.

“I woke up late,” it read, as her still shaky hands gripped onto her phone, “So I’m going to get there a bit late.”

“No problem, Hun,” she replied with a smile on her face, “See you when you get here and don’t do anything illegal.”

“Who do you take me for? Kerstin?” came the immediate reply causing the ravenette to snort as she curled into herself, almost forgetting the troubling news she had seen mere minutes ago.

About twenty minutes later another text alert told the ravenette that her friend had arrived at her house to take her to school.

“Sorry for having you do this everyday, Lyle,” the teen sighed as she slipped into the passenger seat of her friend’s car, keeping her stuff on the floor, “I’m getting the Kia when my mom goes to Washington, but until then my license is basically useless unless I’m driving my grandma somewhere with her car to keep my skills there.”

“I honestly don’t care,” the male snapped as he brushed his hair out of his face before glaring at the ravenette, “Where the fuck is your jacket? It’s freezing.”

“It’s only…” the teen pulled out her phone to check the weather before continuing, “66 degrees. I’ll be fine.”

The male only glared before opening his door and stepping outside.

“What are y-” “Stay the fuck there,” he barked, as he went to the trunk and came back with his letterman jacket, throwing it at the female’s face before getting back in the car.

“The fuck?”

“Put it on, you can’t afford to get sick this week if you have a competition,” he replied, finally beginning the drive to school.

“I think they’ll be fine, I won’t be missed- ow!” the ravenette’s head was thrown forward as the male smacked her.

“Rhamina,” he hissed, keeping his eyes on the road, “Do I have to take you to a therapist?”

“You know, I’m going to miss borrowing this,” the female chirped as she slipped on the jacket stereotypically bestowed upon jocks, “but at the same time I can’t wait till mine is done!”

“Why would you miss borrowing it?” Lyle replied, “To make me suffer in the cold without it?”

“You have extra jackets, eat my ass,” Rhamina huffed before buttoning the snaps on the slightly larger jacket, “No, it just feels like you’re always there giving me a hug… It’s comforting.”

“Wow, I really do have to take you to a therapist, don’t I?” the male asked earning a smack on the shoulder.

“Lyle!” the female whined with a pout, “You always do this when I try to be genuine. You know emotions are weird for me.”

“I can always kill him you know.”

“You say that but I actually know people that will,” the ravenette muttered under her breath as she turtled into the wool and leather jacket.

“What was that?”

“Nothing,” the female sang with a giggle before scrolling through tumblr on her phone.

The rest of the drive was filled with small banter between the two before they eventually pulled into the male’s parking spot.

“I don’t know why the janitors don’t ever open these gates,” huffed the male as the pair stood locked out of the gates of the performing arts hallway.

Rhamina placed her hands on the gate’s handle just as a gust of wind blew by while the golden flecks in her brown irises made themselves prominent, just for a split second, and when she pulled back the gate opened, no longer locked.

“What the fuck? How the hell do you always do this?” Lyle asked, standing still in shock, “I know it was actually locked this time.”

“And like every time I’ve told you before it was magic, Lyle,” the ravenette said with a small smile, “When are you going to believe me?”

“I am a legitimate witch afterall,” she continued after placing a trash can to make sure the gate stayed open.

The two then walked in before taking a seat at the random lunch table left in front of the bandroom, talking or in Lyle’s case, finishing homework.

“Dude, I for sure failed my AP Gov exam!” whined Rhamina as she leaned on the male’s shoulder, “There goes my 4.28.”

“Shut up, I’m sure you did fine,” the brunet said before lifting up one of his papers, “now help me with this.”

The brown irises of the female scanned the piece of math homework, similar to the paper she had finished in class the previous day.

“Ah, you did the same thing I did,” she said noticing the mistake in his work, “When you factor out the rad. 5, this part becomes a 1, so that leaves 6+1 in the parentheses and 10 on the outside. When you multiply that, it becomes 70.”

“Thanks,” the male nodded, understanding his mistake and fixing his work.

“You know, it makes me really happy to see you caring about your future and grades,” Rhamina spoke with a smile, “It really is a turn around from freshman year. I’m proud.”

“Same goes for you. You actually give a shit about your life now and you act proud of yourself.”

“Lyle, you’re going to make me cry,” the ravenette squeaked with a hand over her heart, “That is one of the nicest things you’ve ever said to me!”

“I remember when I first started trying to talk to you, you would threaten to deck me in the face,” she continued, reminiscing about their first year of high school.

“And you would annoyingly keep coming back no matter what threat I threw at you,” he huffed with a smirk.

“Yeah… I am annoying aren’t I?” she chuckled as a silhouette came into view, “When and why did you start tolerating me exactly?”

“I don’t know, why did you start talking to me?” he asked, stopping his work to look down at the girl with curiosity.

“Because you had just moved here and everyone already made assumptions about you,” she explained with a frown, “They said you had frequently gotten into fights and that you weren’t safe to be around.”

“So you started talking to me for the thrill?” the brunet asked with a raised brow.

“I started talking to you because those rumors pissed me off,” the ravenette huffed, “These trash people were judging you based on rumors without getting to know you… they were judging you for just… Existing.”

The male just sat in awe at his friend’s explanation, never knowing why the extremely quirky and anxious female had started coming up to him, the delinquent from another state, in the first place.

“Plus, I know you don’t believe in this stuff but, I heard you.”

“What?”

“That first time I walked passed you and stopped for a few moments, the first time you told me to ‘screw off’ or you’d ‘make me regret it’. I heard your soul saying that you didn’t want the image you had, you didn’t want the cards you were dealt, and to be honest I was just starting my downward spiral so I didn’t fully understand, I still don’t because I’m not you, but I couldn’t help but empathize,” Rhamina spoke, fumbling in a few places as she tried to find the right words, “I didn’t want anyone to suffer in anyway similar to what I was going through, not feeling worth it, not feeling as if they had anyone to just… listen, at least. I didn’t, and I still don’t, wish true loneliness upon anyone.”

“I’m sorry, you probably think that’s weird right?” Rhamina chuckled, after realizing she was going off on a tangent again, “I just wanted to be your friend is all. I just collect weirdos, I guess.”

“You really do, it’s called being in band,” a male spoke before sitting on the opposite side of the table.

“Good morning, Son,” Rhamina spoke before stretching out her back, releasing a few squeaks in the process.

“Good morning, Mother,” the boy spoke as a blonde sophomore arrived as well, “So did you see the news this morning?”

“About what?” the ravenette asked, silently praying that it wasn’t about what she thought it was.

“The prisoner escaping from prison in San Diego,” the sophomore explained, “apparently they were one of the higher security prisoners but police can’t find any of their records.”

“Oh, yeah,” the female chuckled nervously as she leaned forward on her left elbow, her nails just brushing the side of her neck, “You better not be walking home by yourself, Lee.”

“Wait, the fuck?” Lyle asked as he looked up once again from his paper, “Someone broke out of a San Diego prison? They could be anywhere by now.”

“That’s why it’s so concerning,” Lee replied, “It doesn’t help that San Diego in itself can be really shady.”

“Yeah, have you seen Convoy Street after sundown?” Rhamina chuckled as she began to scratch at her neck once again, “But we should be fine, nothing ever happens in Temecula.”

“Rhamina, for someone with a 4.28 GPA you sure are stupid,” Lyle huffed as he turned to the seventeen-year-old, “Temecula is a quiet, boring, little town only known for making wine. It would be the perfect place to hide, especially since we’re so close to San Diego… You’re taking the bus home today right?”

“Yeah, what does that have to do with anything though?” Rhamina asked as she checked her nails, noting that she’d have to cut them within the next few days.

“How far is your house from the bus stop?”

“Lyle, it’s only two streets away, I’ll be fine,” the ravenette groaned, “Plus you have practice today.”

“You say that, but watch you get kidnapped or some shit,” the male scoffed causing Lee’s eyes to widen as he met glances with the blonde next to him.

“Hey, Lyle, can we talk to you real quick?” the blonde female asked.

“In private?” Lee added, causing the ravenette to stand.

“I was just about to use the bathroom so go for it,” Rhamina shrugged as she made her way down the hall.

Once she was out of sight, Lyle turned to the two sophomores and asked, “What did you want, Jamie?”

“You can’t bring up kidnapping around Mina, like at all,” Jamie said with her arms in an ‘X’ in front of her body.

“Why? She jokes about it all the time?” Lyle asked with a raised brow.

“Has she actually used the word ‘kidnap’ or has she said ‘surprise adoption’?” Lee asked, “There is a huge difference and as to why we can’t say it… I’m not surprised that you don’t know, you just came here four years ago after all.”

“Oh yeah, he doesn’t know!” Jamie realized which took away some of her surprise at the fact that one of the ravenette’s closest friends would say something like that.

“I don’t know what? Can you guys just stop being dodgy?” the brunet scoffed with annoyance written all over his face, though he couldn’t stop his rate rate from accelerating slightly.

“You see when Mina was in sixth grade she went missing,” Jamie explained in a hushed voice, leaning in so the male could hear her easier.

“Yeah, the last place she was known to be at the park near her house, she was supposed to be hanging out with some friends,” Lee added, “A week later the police found her in some guy’s basement in Corona. When police found her, she wasn’t like physically abused or anything but she was really anxious and on edge.”

“They caught the guy that did it as he was coming into the house so, yeah,” Jamie finished.

Lyle was speechless for a few moments but thought back to their previous conversation.

“Do you know which prison the guy is in?” he asked as others started arriving.

“She didn’t tell us that.”

“Guys, why are you talking about this?” a shorter female with dark braids asked as she sat down, looking around for the ravenette, “You know we can’t.”

“We needed to explain to Lyle!” Jamie defended, “He didn’t know and could have accidentally said something to trigger her!”

“No offense, Lyle,” the blond said, quickly realizing what she said could have been taken the wrong way.

“I can understand why she hasn’t told you though,” the Mexican spoke as she took a seat, “I don’t even want to imagine how traumatic that was.”

“What are we talking about?” Rhamina asked as she popped up from around a corner near the table.

“Mina, where the fuck did you come from?!” the darkette exclaimed in surprise.

“The restrooms I normally use are still locked so I used the ones near the gym,” the ravenette explained as she took her seat, “But what were we talking about.”

“Uh, how Eli was being gay in third period yesterday,” Jamie spoke earning a frown from the senior female.

“How about we don’t?” she said as the younger students laughed.

After about five more minutes of conversation, Rhamina turned to Lyle and asked, “Hey, you good?”

“Hm? Yeah, I’m fine,” he spoke being jolted out of his thoughts, “What do you want?”

“Robert just did something retarded again and you didn’t yell at him, what’s up?” the ravenette asked while looking up at her friend.

“I said that I’m fine,” the boy huffed earning a small glare from Rhamina as a cold gust of wind blew past.

“Do you want your jacket back?” she asked while wrapping her arms around the brunet’s arm.

“No, you can keep it for now,” Lyle sighed as he patted the female on the head with his free hand.

When the bell rang the pair walked together until Rhamina came to her classroom and they parted with a quick hug.

“So, Rhamina, how’re you and the boyfriend?” asked the teacher sitting at his table in front of the ravenette’s desk.

“Huh? I don’t have a boyfriend,” the female replied as she set down her things.

“Then who’s that boy that drops you off in the morning? The one who’s jacket that you’re wearing?” the Ap Government teacher questioned.

“Lyle?” Rhamina asked glancing down at the oversized jacket, “We’re not dating, just really close friends is all. No one really sees me that way.”

The teacher only gave a single raised brow and a look that read, ‘I don’t believe you,’ before greeting other students as they walked in the classroom.

When the ravenette’s sibling walked into the room just as the bell rang the male teacher looked up and asked, “Kerstin, can I talk to you for a moment?”

“Shit, am I in trouble?” the darkette asked as Rhamina and their seat mate deadpanned at their friend’s reply to a teacher.

“No, I just need to ask you something real quick,” Mr. Slow said as he opened the door to the pod, a small room connecting four of the classrooms in a wing.

Once the door closed, the teacher sighed before saying, “I know it’s inappropriate of me to ask this as a teacher, but as a bystander this is getting pretty confusing.”

At this point Kerstin was feeling pretty uncomfortable and getting extremely worried.

‘What did he find out?’ she thought, ‘Was it the vape? Or the weed? Please don’t let it be the weed.’

“Is Rhamina really not dating that boy?” the male asked after taking a deep breath, “Because the staff has been seeing them hang out together since their freshman years but there’s a debate over whether they are a thing or not.”

“Ah, well, they’re not,” Kerstin sighed in relief, “I can see where you get confused though.”

“Are you kidding me?” Mr. Slow replied, “I can’t believe they actually aren’t dating they act like a couple.”

“I know!” the teen exclaimed, “They do couple shit all the time and it’s obvious that they like each other but neither of them say shit. Mina is just too oblivious to see it and Lyle is a tsundere piece of shit.”

“Well, thank you for the clarification, Kerstin,” the teacher sighed, “I’m going to be frustrated about this for a while.”

“I’ve had to deal with them acting like this four four years, Mr. Slow,” Kerstin replied, “You don’t know my pain.”

When the darkette returned to her seat, Rhamina turned around and asked, “What did Mr. Slow want?”

“Nothing, we were just talking about how I need to stop being late,” the Filipino girl shrugged before her eyebrow twitched at seeing the brunet’s jacket on her sister.

When lunch came around, Rhamina emerged from the band room with her lunch to see Lyle waiting at the lunch table.

With a smile she tossed the male’s jacket back to him before sitting next to him.

“Did you cut class to get here this early?” she asked while opening her lunch box.

“Just the last five minutes,” he replied, “and you took forever to get out.”

“Well, I was being productive,” Rhamina huffed rolling her shoulders, “Conducting is hard when you don’t stretch.”

“Mina, scoot,” a shorter Filipino female said as she arrived bearing a hot pocket.

“Chloe, there’s literally a free seat right across from me,” the ravenette replied.

“But G-Lo’s stuff is here.”

“Move your feet you lose your seat.”

“...Okay.”

 The day passed painfully slow for the ravenette and when it finally ended she slipped in her right airpod to listen to her usual playlist as she sat in the second row of her bus.

As soon as the vehicle started a text notification appeared on the screen of her phone.

Seeing it was from Lyle, Rhamina tapped on it and read, “Be careful going home today.”

She only scoffed with a small smile and shot a text back, telling the male to focus on practice before the coach made him do extra PT.

She received a middle finger emoji in response which made her chuckle before returning to scrolling on her tumblr.

The bus ride almost lulled the ravenette to sleep; however, she willed herself to stay up due to her massive distrust of all the other students on the same bus route as her.

A few weeks prior, the rowdy, mostly freshmen boys, had caused so much trouble on the bus and almost caused her to get home half an hour late.

In a text chat with her sisters, Rhamina stated that she wished for the bus to catch fire… And she hoped it would be with all of said freshmen in it.

She didn’t hate all of the freshmen class, there were a few that she liked as well as a few she hasn’t met yet, but she knew that for sure the ones on her bus were insufferable.

Unfortunately for the ravenette, she got off at the last stop of the route and the freshmen would not get off until the two stops before hers so she would have to put up with them for almost her entire ride.

When it was finally time to get off the female was the only one left.

‘Looks like Gavin wasn’t here today,’ she thought as she hopped off the bus, giving a wave to the bus driver before she walked down the street.

When she was in front of her house the teen opened her mail box to retrieve the multiple envelopes and parcels inside.

Still humming along with the music that played in her ears the ravenette opened her front door to be greeted with complete and utter silence as her grandparents were at a doctor’s appointment and her mother had taken the dogs to the vet for a check up.

The silence didn’t bother the teen though, in fact she was quite content to get the house to herself after so long of being bombarded by social interaction.

With a smile she left the envelopes and lunch bag on top of the kitchen counter before removing her boots and taking the parcels with her name on them as well as the rest of her things upstairs with a small smile on her face; however, her relief was short lived.

As soon as she opened her bedroom door she saw a young man with pale skin and medium length brown hair laying on her bed.

He wore a pair of blue jeans with a green t-shirt, and a black jacket over it.

Rhamina’s breath was caught in her throat and she as she was met with familiar blood red irises.

“Hello, Little Fox, it seems like you’ve been doing well,” the male spoke with a smooth voice and a smirk on his face as he slipped his phone back into his pocket.

The ravenette could feel her heart beat faster as the male stood up and began walking towards her.

‘Move!’ she thought still standing wide eyed, ‘Fucking do something! Why can’t I-?!’

She was finally brought back to reality when she slapped the male’s reaching hand away before hunching forward slightly to let out a long hiss.

“What are you doing here?” she hissed, keeping her eyes on the male for any movement he made, “How the hell did you get out and why don’t they know that it was you who did?”

The smirk fell from the face of the man before he replied, “How did you avoid getting arrested with me back then? How were you able to give me every piece of information on my targets without leaving your own location?”

Rhamina winced at the realization and her head was telling her to run but she was too stubborn for that.

“So you figured out my tricks… well fuck,” she sighed, backing up slowly still keeping her eyes trained on the older male, “Why are you here? You going to kill me?”

“No,” the male chuckled, “Why would you think that? In fact I came back so we could work together again.”

“No, I fucking refuse,” Rhamina spat, “I stopped playing the game a long time ago.”

The ravenette jumped as the door slammed loudly behind her and before she could even say anything she was pinned between the murderer in front of her and the door that had kept her safe from the horrors of the outside world.

“You don’t just stop playing the game, Kitsami,” the male whispered in her ear as he held her wrist in place, “You don’t stop playing until you die.”

“You know that,” he continued as he backed away slightly to look the teen in the eyes, “You’ve helped me get rid of so many other players after all.”

“I don’t get why you need me now though,” Rhamina spoke trying to avoid any eye contact, “You already know how I did my job and could do it by yourself.”

“Oh, the first part is true but the second part isn’t,” the male spoke with a smile, “Because even if you haven’t been active on the deep web, the truth is you never even stopped playing the game, have you?”

“No, in fact you’ve been honing your skills haven’t you? So even if I just say a name, I’m sure you’d be able to give me anything I needed.”

“You’re really overestimating my abilities, you know that?”

Rhamina let out a yelp as she was forced to face the male who was only inches from her face.

“I know your not stupid Kitsami, plus I heard you were having some money issues right?” he whispered while looking down into the female’s brown irises, speckled with gold flecks, “Well, this time around I’m willing to be giving you a 50/50 cut of the payment since you would be more involved.”

Rhamina was silent with that statement. It was true. Her family had almost no money left and with how the district was treating the band program she feared it wouldn’t last.

“I know you’re careful and that you’re going to have just as much fun as I do,” he continued with a smirk, “So what’s it going to be, Kitsami?”

“Fine. I’ll do it with the 50/50 cut.”

“Wow, so it was the money that swayed you, huh?”

“It shouldn’t surprise you, Koda, I am a fox after all,” shrugged the female as the older male backed away, “We are greedy little things.”

“Here,” the male said as he tossed a box at the ravenette who almost dropped it, “a few gifts for you.”

She opened the box as the male laid back down on the bed to see a cheap thirty dollar, touch screen phone and a black cord choker with a purple gem in the middle.

“I suspected you wouldn’t want to keep any of our work conversations on your computer so I got you an untraceable phone,” Koda explained as he stretched.

“So I see someone was confident that I would agree to working with you,” Rhamina commented with a scoff, “What would you do if I said no?”

“I would kill everyone in that little marching band of yours.”

In a split second the ravenette sat on the male’s stomach with both of her hands wrapped around his throat, not gripping hard enough to really do anything but enough to make herself known.

Her face showed no emotion but Koda could see the rage burning as the gold flecks in her eyes seemed to glow and the temperature in the room dropped.

She began to squeeze down on the male’s throat as she growled, “Even think about saying that again and I will break every single bone in your body.”

The male chuckled as black dots began to appear in his peripheral vision.

“You really did grow up to be so beautiful, you know?” he wheezed causing the ravenette to loosen her grip in shock at the comment, “I see why you chose to be called fox.”

“What are you getting at-?!” she was cut off as the male bucked his hips up to throw her off balance and rolled them over so he was the one pinning her down.

“You look so cute with your ears and tails flicking around like that,” he commented with half lidded eyes as the ravenette was pinned once again, “But you’re still really inexperienced… I can fix that.”

“What the actual- Koda!” Rhamina squealed as the male suddenly dropped his full weight on her, burying his face into her neck, causing her heart to beat faster as she became more uncomfortable.

“I missed you so much, you know?” he whispered, tone changing dramatically, “Prison wasn’t fun and I couldn’t talk to anyone there like I could with you. It was so boring but now I have you again.”

The ravenette knew it was a bad idea.

She knew it was only trouble to get herself involved again but in that moment she saw someone that she could trust.

In that moment Rhamina saw someone she needed to protect in the shell of the bloody murderer laying on top of her, holding her as if he was afraid that she would crumble away.

In that moment she couldn’t help but wonder, ‘What happened to you?’

~~~Fin. Chapter 1~~~

[bakudekuficlibrary]

Heelloo! This blog is absolutely wonderful. Before sleep, I always come to look for a fanfic based on the lists and it's very helpful. I can't help but sleep like a bear after reading a good fic recommended in this blog. Hope you continuee! And alsoo I have a request... if there is any fic with a jelly Kacchan, but a frequently jealous Kacchan. Because I love reading that type of scenes. Hope you answer meee, thankk youuu!!! ;;;

Hi! Thank you so much for the kind words, and I’m so sorry for the wait! Here’s a link to the Jealous Kacchan mini-list, just in case you haven’t seen it yet. Hmm… I think possessive behavior fics have a lot of Jealous Kacchan moments, so here’s a mini-list! (Some fics are tagged with both “Jealous Bakugou Katsuki” and “Possessive Behavior,” so you will see some works listed on here that were already listed in the other mini-list!)

-Ellie

20 Works.

Before Midnight by DriftingGlass ( E | 211,528 | 28/28 )

Izuku Midoriya takes the same train to and from school Monday through Friday, morning and night. His only company during these lonesome hours comes in the form of another boy his age—a teen with scarred hands and blood gem eyes, a stranger with ash-blond hair who walks in a shroud of danger and mystery.

“Would you stop with that fucking muttering, idiot?”

And before Izuku can find his footing, his life becomes a full-blown collision course thanks to walking cannonball Katsuki Bakugou.

(And along the way he may have found the missing fuel to his fire).

[Graphic Depictions of Violence | Underage | Implied/Referenced Child Abuse | Emotional/Psychological Abuse | Attempted Sexual Assault]

[Abandoned] Alexithymia by DriftingGlass ( M | 61,246 | 10/11 )

It’s as if he’s inhaling a breath of snow and ashes—a shock and choke in his throat, strangely reminiscent of the day he realized that the birthmark blooming on his shoulder was identical to the drawings on his childhood friend’s desk.

Now, twelve years later, it only confirms Izuku’s impending doubts that, yes, he is now legally claimed by Katsuki Bakugou.

[ THIS FIC HAS BEEN DISCONTINUED. ]

[Underage]

[On Hiatus] Lost Omega by GreyDayMoon ( Not Rated | 36,940+ | 12/? )

Izuku was just trying to take care of himself and his mother but a single slip up sends him into unfamiliar territory where he encounters an aggressive alpha who drags him into tribe life.

*On temporary Hiatus*

[Graphic Depictions of Violence | Underage | Dub-Con]

[On Hiatus] And He Was Magnificent by Skaii, SugarbabyIzuku ( E | 4,134+ | 1/? )

Midoriya Izuku is an omega slave, born into a life of subservience. He’s trapped, never to reach his dreams of something more; until he’s thrust headfirst into the world of Bakugou Katsuki, the crown prince of Incendium Kingdom. Now, Izuku must adjust to a new life as Katsuki’s slave—while a war that threatens to shake the land looms on the horizon.

[Graphic Depictions of Violence]

[On Hiatus] Quirkless by InkHound ( M | 29,444+ | 6/? )

Izuku’s heartbroken at the tender age of four— the doctors have confirmed he is quirkless. But the truly crushing blow is when not long afterward, little Izuku has a chance meeting with his number one hero; All Might, who tells him that without a quirk, he can’t be a hero (it’s just too dangerous).

Later that night, Izuku is watching his favorite All Might video in a daze. He puts the question to his mother; can he still be a hero, without a quirk? He watches as she freezes up, pale-faced and wet-eyed before she rushes to his side and speaks in a trembling, tear-filled voice;

“Oh baby, my sweet baby ‘zuku,” she says through her tears, “Of course you can.”

And everything changed.

[Underage]

The Bonds that Bind Us by DMMegsie ( M | 28,298+ | 5/? )

Travelling with his trading caravan, Izuku is on his way home when they stumble across an already heated battle in the middle of an open field in the dead of night. Being mistaken as part of attacking party, Izuku finds himself fighting off the fabled Demon King of the Mountains of Fire.

However, during the battle, Izuku breaks a necklace on the Demon King that held an unspoken promise from his mother from long ago, which changes everything.

Nothing ever as it seems, nor is it simple. As an omega of elven descent, Izuku has a lot to learn about the greater world and himself. The same could be said of the half dragon lord of the mountain.

[Graphic Depictions of Violence | Rape/Non-Con]

Oubaitori by DriftingGlass ( M | 32,666+ | 4/16 )

From the moment he was born, Izuku understood that he was different. He was a rarity, an omega; not necessarily seen as useful or even desirable. It didn’t take long, however, for his entire future to be placed in the hands of an alpha, one by the name of Katsuki Bakugo.

Through many pitfalls, confusion, and pains of growing up in a city where both are outcasts of their own kind, it takes more than just the threads of instinct and arranged contracts to bring two hearts together.

Love isn’t fate. It’s pure luck.

[Underage]

Mark Me Up by Flightless_Bird ( T | 1,674 | 1/1 )

Katsuki’s gaze cut into him again like a lightning bolt and it took Izuku a second to realize what the tilt of the blonde’s head meant: come here.

Hero & Zero by GreyDayMoon ( Not Rated | 8,493+ | 4/? )

Bakugou was the number one hero, surrounded by fans, and loaded with fame and fortune. So why would he care if a boy from his childhood still watched him from the edge of crowds? He wouldn’t give a shit about Deku who would? Who would even be looking for that stupid messy green hair?

Except maybe he would.

The Only One Who Can Make You… by TitanOrphanAnnie ( E | 898 | 1/1 )

PWP One-Shot about some fooling around after class that ends up fluffier than Kaachan was prepared for.

Possessive fuck by Thetrash ( E | 2,585 | 1/1 )

Izuku has a study date with Shoto and Katsuki decides to fuck him before he leaves.

[Dub-Con]

Aphiemi by DriftingGlass ( G | 9,591 | 1/1 )

[ Aphiemi - “to send for one’s self, to forsake, to hurl away, to disregard, to put off.” ]

Emotions are incredibly difficult to control and formulate the way you want to. For one Katsuki Bakugou, he’s made mistakes and placed assumptions on one person he realizes he cannot bear to live without, no matter how much he simultaneously detests and adores the little shithead.

Gagging For It by sagequit ( E | 3,006+ | 2/? )

Bakugou discovers that Midoriya has a bit of an oral fixation. Shameless PWP.

SeriesPart 1 of Bakudeku Filth

[Underage]

Soft Spots by Saysi ( E | 38,613+ | 18/? )

Midoriya and Bakugou don’t have the best of relationships - except when they find themselves alone.

Bakugou quickly finds himself developing a soft spot for the nerd.

Happy birthday Midoriya!

[Underage]

Fake It Till I Make You Mine by AnimeLoversInTown ( E | 8,514+ | 3/? )

All Katsuki wanted was to get away from people and eat his lunch in peace. How is it that after only two short minutes of blissful silence, he suddenly had to deal with Deku bawling, got suckered into listening to his problems, and wound up with a boyfriend? Ah well, at least he wasn’t bored.

[Underage]

Miko!!! by Hermaphrodite ( T | 30,110+ | 6/? )

Izuku isn’t really sure, but hes pretty certian in his past life he must have been a terrible person, maybe a heretic that had a cult following and went on a mass murder spree that cost people their lives or something, because there is no way that the gods could hate him this much for absolutely no reason besides existing. Firstly, he was born as a Omega, almost a second class citizen at this point if he was going to be honest with himself, and now at the age of four being branded Quirkless by doctors who were giving his mother looks of pity that clearly read that they thought just what society has conditioned them to think. To them, he was a quirkless, useless omega.Just because you live in a world where everyone has superpowers and you don’t doesn’t mean you aren’t any less of a hero! World be damned! They’ll just have to watch me do it!(Quirkless Omega Izuku accidentally summons Tamamo-No-Mae and becomes a DemiServant, and now with her power he will shape the world and show everyone Omegas can be Heroes! and well, Kaachan just wants everyone to stop staring at his Deku)

Where the Stars Burn Brightest by DriftingGlass ( M | 18,467+ | 3/? )

In a world where countries are torn asunder through quests for greed, power, and understanding the realm of industrial technology and ancient magic, only the strongest—and smartest—live a full life.

Every individual is born with a phrase marking their bodies, linking them to their soulmate through the threads of fate and time.

Izuku Midoriya is born with only half of a soulphrase on his wrist, destined to never meet the other half. A cruel omen.

Though this has not stopped Izuku from dedicating his young life to researching soul-born magic and science under his master, the legendary Toshinori Yagi. He is determined to manifest his Quirk, with or without a destined soulmate.

However, his life takes an unexpected turn when he rescues a volatile criminal—a man of savage beauty and many secrets.

And so, Izuku realizes rather quickly that in his dangerous new quest, only the most willful survive, and if his new companion is anything to show for it, nothing will prepare him for what’s to come.

[ Rewrite of The Rhythm of Fire and Wind ]

[Graphic Depictions of Violence | Past Abuse]

I Like You Deku, damn it by AjhayLee ( T | 8,364 | 1/1 )

Bakugou Katsuki dreams about his past self as a prince and liking his attendant childhood friend. The thing is, he couldn’t confess his feelings and he wasn’t able to tell him. Upon realizing that he also like the present Midoriya in the process, he does what his past self couldn’t do the fourth time he woke up from the dream.

[Major Character Death]

class act by savedetonate (neverlasting) ( E | 1,696 | 1/1 )

Katsuki is riled up and feeling petty, and Izuku is looking too good to ignore.

[Underage]

Consumed by youreroad ( M | 5,209+ | 3/? )

Izuku and Katsuki had known each other since they where kids. They have their ups and downs and even had a fall out during middle school but in the end they are best friends. Even with Katsuki’s abrassive personality Izuku knows Katsuki cares for him.

He just has no idea to what extent.

In which Izuku tries to date and Katsuki is consumed by his obsession.

[hikkibu]

It's been awhile since I last tried to fic but I was inspired to start a klance thanks to @i-write-shakespeare-not-disney I don't even have a title for it but I got a chapter. If I get more of it done I'll probably put it up on ao3. Here we go

What was that god awful noise? Keith tilted his head to look over his shoulder not at all surprised to see Lance rolling around on his bed guffawing so hard he was wheezing. “Louder, the whole campus didn't hear you.” Keith made a face turning back around to his computer intending to finish up his report.

“Dude dude no, look at this!”

“I don’t have time for that Lance!” Lance however didn't give him a chance to refuse, shoving his phone between his nose and computer screen. “What am I looking at?”

“Read it!”

His eyed narrowed in scrutiny and concentration on the picture and text. “’This bread tiny…yeast’. Yes yeast makes bread rise Lance, where's the punchline?”

“Nooo, you gotta say it right! This bread tiny! YEAST!” When Keith continued to stare blankly Lance laughed again smiling wider. “Y'know? Like the meme?”

“What?”

“Oh come on! Yeet! Remember like that one time when Matt threw his water bottle in class and shouted YEET?”

“No?”

“Man Hunk would get it, you're no fun.” Lance fixed the elder teen with a disappointed pout returning to his place on the bed. ‘Then go show Hunk.' Keith grumbled in his head just as a knock came to the door. “It's open!” Lance called.

Before Keith could scold him for inviting god knows who into his room he physically relaxed when he saw Shiro's face pop into the doorway looking in with curious eyes. “What was that sound?”

“Lance existing.” Keith muttered typing away. Admittedly inviting Lance into his dorm room tonight wasn’t his brightest idea, or rather allowing Lance to invite himself in.

Shiro turned his eyes to see the giggling teen curled up quite comfortably on the bed. “Ah, could you exist a little quieter?” Shiro grinned at Lance. “Adam thought someone snuck Kaltenecker into the dorms. Again.” Okay Keith couldn’t hold back the sudden snerk but he covered his mouth knowing Lance was giving Shiro his best indignant huff.

“Okay first of all I totally don’t sound like that, and second check this out!” He grinned with pride holding his phone up.

“Oh god don’t bother him with that crap La-“ He turned around just in time to see Shiro bust out laughing.

“Hahaha! YEAST!”

“YES! See? Shiro gets it!” Of course he would. The two shared a good hearty laugh although Shiro tried his best to straighten up first. Keith gave his brother the most disapproving unamused frown he could muster and rolled his eyes when all he got in return were stupid puppy eyes. He turned back around and saved his file muttering something under his breath along the lines of ‘stupid memes'.

“Well I'm going to turn in. Don't stay up too late. Keith.” It was more directed at Lance but Shiro had noticed the dark circles under Keith's eyes as of late. The younger brother gruffed but nodded. “Goodnight guys.”

“Night.” The both of them echoed. It was some time later the both of them sat up on the bed. Lance was content to watch a steady stream of vines giggling girlishly as Keith sat up at the head reading a book casually when he felt the tug on his pants leg. He didn't need to look away from his page to know Lance had that stupid dopey grin. “What is it Lance?”

“Watch this with me?”

“No I hate vines.”

“It's a meme.”

“That's worse.”

“Keeeiiith~” The answer received was a growl, frown and his complete undivided attention. “Kay. This one's cool.” He wiggled over sitting up next to the other holding his phone up for the both of them to watch. Once the play button was pressed Keith was confused on contact though mostly irritated as a deadpan expression locked in place.

“What are we watching?...”

“Forever spinning kid.” Lance bit his lip trying not to laugh, simple pleasures for the simple minded Keith figured. The beat was actually a little catchy, not that he'd admit that.

He never understood the humor behind the memes and vines Lance had no problem finding. Seriously, vines, how the hell was he finding them? If he was contending to be the most annoying human within a stone's throw he was doing a bang up job. It was like he was addicted to the things, like if he couldn't find them fast enough something bad would happen.

Having been away for some time on break he hadn't been filled in on what all he missed during his absence but noticed the first week back that Lance wasn’t himself anymore, he seemed isolated from everyone. Maybe he was imagining it? Keith pulled his eyes away from the screen watching Lance grin. It had been so long since he saw that smile, it was only until recently that he had become aware that it was missing.

“Funny huh?” He looked back at him so quick Keith had to turn away quickly so he wouldn’t be caught staring.

“I guess.”

“Look, there's others!”

He groaned allowing just one more, then one more, then one more. He was letting him get away with so much more than he used to. Here he was, allowing the descent into madness with the Cuban teen leading the way. He couldn't honestly tell how many hours they spent staying up watching silly videos and before long the stupidity was contagious. When they came across one that made Keith crack a grin or even chuckle, it encouraged the younger and made him laugh that much harder. Huh, seeing Lance happy like this? Well, it was almost worth it. Side by side, with Lance's head on his shoulder they both began to nod off.

“Thanks for watching with me.” Lance murmured out of nowhere.

“Hm?” Turning from the montage of videos Keith looked to find Lance still watching but with a far away look in his eyes as he lowered his hand. “Lance?”

He looked back at his phone chuckling despite feeling like utter crap. “I needed a laugh.”

“That bad?” Keith grinned.

“It's just…the family's been busy with other things and with you gone I haven’t had a chance to laugh with anyone. Guess I kinda just now realized how bad I needed to laugh.”

“Your family?” Damn, he started to feel the ice of guilt start dropping down into his stomach. “Are they alright?”

“What? Yeah no they’re alright!” Lance waved his hands animatedly unable to hold back the smile watching Keith relax in relief. “It's just...no one's called me in forever. They're busy I get that. I know I’m just pitying myself but I just miss them you know? And when you went to see your mom I was happy for you but... I still wanted yo- y-you know, someone to talk to.” Lance hugged himself with a small laugh. Watching the way he pulled his knees up like that made him look smaller somehow. How long had he smiled like that, making everyone think he was okay with that painted smile? Keith knew the difference, he definitely wasn't just imagining it.

“Not even with Hunk?”

“I wish. He's been hanging out with Pidge and Matt and you know I don't understand anything they talk about. It's like they're speaking a whole other language I'm too dumb to understand.”

“You're not dumb.” Keith found himself murmuring.

“I feel like it sometimes.” The laugh was a little hollow, and to be completely honest Keith didn’t like the way it rattled in his chest either. “I don't feel like I’m worth the effort.”

“Not worth the effort?” What was going on?

“I don't know…like, not worth the air I breathe.” Shit.

“Lance, if you're-“

“No I’m not hurting myself.” Lance murmured shutting down the thought before it could get started not seeing the wave of true relief wash over Keith's face. “I just feel so useless and alone.”

“I’m here.” He offered quietly, wetting dry lips nervously. God that was a stupid thing to say but he didn’t know what else he could say. He wasn't good at this, he had no idea how to comfort Lance. He didn’t respond to the words only kept his head down as if studying on them.

Keith hadn’t known he felt that way, hell he didn’t know he could feel that way and he felt like he should have. He wanted to ask where it came from, who made him feel this way, who did he have to hurt for putting him down. Instead just like always he remained silent and mentally kicked himself for not knowing the words to say. “Thanks Keith.” He wasn’t sarcastic, or loud with that ever bright grin of his, but peaceful with the tiniest smile on his lips. “I really mean it. Most people would probably pep talk me or get angry that I feel that way.”

“You're allowed to feel things.” Keith remained where he was letting Lance use his shoulder as a pillow.

“I know, but when I feel rotten like this its comforting to know I got someone like you to help me.”

“Even when I say nothing at all?”

“Especially when you say nothing at all.” His blue eyes began to get their luster back. “Because I know you're listening to me.”

That smile on his lips was his undoing. If Lance's addiction was to laugh, Keith's was his smile, the one smile that reached his eyes. He gave Lance a little nudge with his shoulder. “Come on, I'll do one more video.” And there it was in all its glory. It was a crime for that smile to not exist and if Keith could make Lance that happy he would gladly watch as many of these godforsaken videos until that stupidly goofy smile stayed. He watched the phone come back up and a fresh reel of more videos began to play. It hadn't been maybe five minutes after feeling his own eyes grow heavy that he felt the hand drop.

Violet eyes blinked alert turning to watch the other teen’s peaceful sleeping face. It was already way too late to send him off to his own dorm room is what he told himself when he reached over to turn off the lamp at his bedside snuggling down next to him. The glow of the city seeped through his blinds into the dark space just barely illuminating the walls giving his room an almost surreal feel. The soft subtle warbling of some song on his radio he had turned down earlier that evening now distinctively filled his ears adding to the ambiance their combined silence made.

After giving the room a quick sweep Keith turned to look back at Lance unable to stop the smile. He really had no idea how important he was did he? They hadn't been friends long, they'd known each other almost two years now. At first he found the Cuban teen to be absolutely insufferable due to his mouth and incessant desire to pick a fight whenever they were in the same room together. It wasn't until they were forced to work together on a group project that they began to learn about what really made the other tick, then that grew to tolerance. Tolerance grew to respect, then respect to like, and like to… Keith sighed silently scolding himself. He couldn't help the tugging in his chest when Lance smiled at him now. And he wasn't ready to admit to himself how much he missed him.

He pulled his phone from his limp grasp placing it on the bedside table so it wouldn’t get lost in the blankets and turned back to face him. He let his fingers curiously brush his cheek finding the skin warm. Huh, he wondered if those sunny Varadero summers soaked into his skin in his youth. His eyes flickered to his hair giving it a gentle stroke rubbing the strands between his fingers, soft. Closing his eyes he leaned in very nearly burying his nose into the mop of brown hair. A mix of cocoa butter, coconut and something else, maybe something uniquely Lance. “I'm sorry I'm so mean to you…I’ll try to be nicer, I promise.”

His body tensed up when he felt Lance shift and turn in towards him but relaxed and rolled his eyes with a smirk when let out a series of soft snores.

“That's so you. You'd sleep through a hurricane.” Keith chuckled. Deciding to end his explorations he settled down with him resting their heads on the pillows pulling a blanket over them. “Goodnight Lance.”

[rekarra]

Breaking Through Shadows | Chapter 1

Plot: What has started as just a dream would end up changing the course of my life. But what else could I have expected when vampires get involved.

Genre: Fluff, angst, eventual smut.

Word Count: 3.2k+

Pairing: Leaving this blank for now, for plot reasons, or something.

Point of View: First person oc

Warnings: Language, medical talk, nothing too intense

Rating: Teen but eventually 18+

Author’s Note: Well, here’s my first chapter. I hope you all enjoy it. I’m not sure when chapter two will be up as I have some real world stuff going on in the next week, but I’m hopeful I’ll have it up by the middle of next week. A quick shout out to my beta reader, best friend, and my own personal Bunny, @xxfxckitxx, who is also my number one hype woman and my constant support. Thank you for pushing me to do this, even if I drag my feet on occasion.

| Prologue |

Reaching over to my phone, fingertips just brushing the thin piece of glass, circuitry, and metal. I silenced the obnoxious blast of my alarm with a slight thought. I knew what the time was, what the weather was going to be, how a friend from high school had posted a picture of her newborn baby to social media, and several other things from just that one brief touch of the phone. Being a technomage did have its advantages sometimes.

Technomages were the natural evolution of witches. It seemed that as technology advanced in the mundane world, magic needed to keep up. We were no longer bound to the stereotypes of having to brew potions. I still did, though, as a matter of practice. Most everything a magic user needed to be able to do is done through the ever-growing world of cell phones and computers. Most every human interaction, magical or not, had an element of technology to it. Everyone in the modern world either always had a cell phone on them or they are attached to their computer, both for work and pleasure. Magic had to adapt. So here I was, hand hovering over my phone as the dream I had just woken up from streamed on to my private server, just like uploading a YouTube video. It had only taken a small thought for it to happen, but I wanted to be able to reexamine this dream, just like I had the past three nights. Always the same dream. Always ending before I could see their faces. There was a reason I kept dreaming about this, and I was going to figure it out. It had that feeling of a life-changing event, like the way a major thunderstorm can be felt in the air. An almost electric feeling that set my teeth on edge and put a small buzz just behind my eyes. As if on cue, my phone rang just as the stream of my subconscious events ended. I would have known who it was in an instant, even if my magical abilities had rendered caller ID useless, just like if Chyler was not psychic, the fact that she was my soulmate would have let her know that I was awake and slightly on edge. With nothing more than a thought, I answered the phone. “You had the dream again, Mallory.” It was a statement, not a question, as Chyler’s voice drifted from the speaker. I sighed loudly. “Yeah, for the third night in a row. I just got done pushing it to online storage, but I don't have the time to go back over it now. It feels weird though, doesn't it?” I paused, considering why it felt odd. “Like, I should know who they are or something. We are never that hyped for that kind of show. Hell, we don’t even go to shows like that! When was the last time you saw that many preteens with their parents at Slipknot? We’re usually dodging guys wearing too much black leather and metal.” I racked my fingers through my hair, getting out of bed to get myself a cup of coffee, leaving my phone where it was, knowing I’d still be able to hear Chyler, and her, me, from anywhere in my apartment. I pulled a cup from the dishwasher and turned on the coffee maker, not wanting to waste the small amount of energy it would take to turn it on with my magic. “Have you been able to catch anything from it, Bunny?” I asked the girl on the other end of my phone. She didn’t have to see what I had uploaded to my private server to know what I had dreamed about. The bond between our souls and her abilities meant that she didn’t even need to be in the same room with me, let alone touch me the way she had to with others, for her to “see” my dreams. She only had to send out the conscious thought to pick out the dream. Her breathing increases for a few seconds before she let out a shuddering exhale. “No, Mal. Nothing that you haven’t already felt. But it does have a flavor of something familiar. If you could get a look at their faces....” She trails off her sentence. That is how Chyler’s powers work. She either needs to be touching someone, or she must see their face, and with a bit of concentration, she is able to know everything about them. I was the exception to those rules. We had discovered it not long after we had met. We had become friends so fast, feeling like we had known each other forever. Chyler had confessed to being a psychic and had requested to read me, wanting to know herself why we had this instant connection. Agreeing, she took both of my hands into hers and looked up at me, her normally brown eyes turned a breath-stopping shade of blue as she saw my past. And not just my past in this life because when her eyes turned back to their rightful color, she blinked back tears, asking me if I wanted to see too. I had quirked an eyebrow at her but nodded anyway. She had settled her hands in a slightly different place, her middle and ring fingers placed on the pulse points on my wrists. I had just been able to ask her what she was getting at when her eye changed again, and suddenly I was seeing what she had seen. It felt like an eternity, but it was only a few seconds. I relived my life in reverse. From sitting down in the little mom-and-pop cafe we were in, to meeting Chyler for the first time, back to high school and the insignificance it was to my life. Back to when I had learned about my abilities and I had accidentally blown up the T.V. in a fit of puberty induced anger. Back to being a small child and not having a care in the world, back to my first breath. But it did not stop there. I saw my death in my most previous past life, all the things I had carried out then. Seeing all those events, up to the first breath. Then, again, seeing my death in the life before that one, and the one before that, and before that. All of them. And in each one of them, there was one defining spark in each one. Chyler had always been with me. Always there. We had been everything to each other over our lifetimes. Friends, sisters, mother and daughter, lovers. From the moment our souls sparked into existence, the link between them became iron-bound. With tears streaming down my face, I came out of the trance and just stared at the woman sitting across from me, her hands still in mine. She searched my eyes, her own the size of dinner plates. “Well, I guess this explains why we’re so close.” I had laughed as I gently removed my hands from hers to wipe away the remaining streaks of moisture from my face, hearing her own laughter on the heels of mine. “And now you know what I am now and why I’m always so good with electronics, huh?” I had asked her while still laughing. “I’ve actually always known, Mallory. I was just waiting for you to tell me.” She smiled softly at me. “But we know why it seemed like we have known each other forever. We have. Literally! And I think that’s the first time in my life I’ve been able to use that word properly.” She was in full-out belly laughs now, doubling over on herself as she laughed with her whole body. “Mallory!” The voice over my phone snapped at me, snapping me back into the present. “Mal, your focus back with me again? Unless you can get a look at their faces, I can’t do anything other than say it tastes like something I know but can’t put my finger on what it is.” That is how she would describe it when she couldn’t see everything. It “tasted” in some way. “Well, fuck, Bunny....” I whined slightly out of frustration and the need for caffeine. “What if this is something really big? You’ve always been able to see what comes our way. Why is there a block on this?” “I don’t know, Mal, but I’ll keep going back on it and see if I can figure anything out. Also, your coffee is done, you addict,” she chuckled. “Go get ready for work and I’ll come over once you get off, okay? I know I don’t need to touch you to pick everything up, but maybe I’m missing something for some reason” I nodded before remembering that she couldn’t see me. “Sure Chyler, I’ll see you when you get here. Love you, Bun.” “Love you too, Firefly.” And with that, she hung up. I smiled softly at her pet name for me as I finished pouring my coffee, leaving just enough room for the vanilla creamer. This will be the only good cup of sweet, glorious caffeine I will get before getting to the hospital, and I intend to enjoy for as long as I can. As soon as the first sip passes my lips, I felt the buzz of the brew on my tongue, just sweet enough to cut the underlying bite of the bean’s bitterness. I took a few more sips, humming softly to myself before taking my cup with me into my bedroom. Setting the mug down on my dresser, I walked into my modest closet and set about readying for the day, picking out a scrub top that had all the Marvel comic book characters on it and matching teal scrub pants. This was the part that was so off-putting about the dream. There were aspects of it that were real to my life. I was a first-year nursing student when I had first met Chyler, and we both had received outstanding job offers when we had graduated. Outside of the concert and the seven mystery figures that were on stage, that was my life. Rolling my shoulders back, I left the closet, clothes in hand, and reached for my cup. I drained the contents before tugging my scrubs on. Another 15 minutes of getting my hair to look suitable and putting on light makeup, I was out the door. My drive to work was always a curious one, the 7pm to 7am shift means that I leave for when most people are just getting home, their workday ending as mine begins. I had just finished locking my door when my neighbor came walking up the pathway, her 2 kids in tow. She smiled at me as her little boy, who couldn’t have been any older and 6, looked at my shirt and started excited babbling over all the superheroes on my shirt. Bending down to his level, I asked him if he could name them all off, which he did with unexpected speed. I laughed as he started talking about who was his favorite and why. His mom smiled at the exchange before softly telling her son that I needed to get to work, so I could help save people who were hurt, just like all the characters on my top. She picked the small child up while he stared at me in wonder, wishing me a safe and uneventful night. I said my goodbyes and headed towards my car. The freeways heading into downtown were clear, just like they always are for me when I headed into work. It was moving out of downtown that the traffic was bad at this time of day. It would take me an hour or more to get to work if I had the normal 8-to-5 schedule that most people stuck to. As it was, I pulled into my parking stop at the hospital a mere 30 minutes after I had left my apartment complex. I walked into the building, heading to the emergency room staff locker room. As I was putting my backpack and lunch in my locker, the charge nurse for the ER, Mark, approached me. “Ms. Adams.” I cringed slightly at his use of my last name, knowing he was about to stick me with something I probably wasn’t going to like. “I hope you’re ready for this evening. We have a VIP coming in and while I normally wouldn’t assign anyone to it and let whoever gets it, take it, but you are the only nurse I have who knows multiple languages and it seems our patient and his manager only speak Korean. We won’t be able to get a translator here for some time. You don’t happen to know Korean, do you?” I didn’t actually, right now anyway. A simple touch of the phone in my pocket and a muttering of the Romanian word “Traducere” under my breath and I was a fluent as a native-born immigrant. I nod as I look up at my head nurse, confirming to him that I was able to communicate with whoever it is that will be coming in. “Who’s coming in, Mark?” I asked the middle-aged man in front of me. “I really don’t know, Mallory.” He answered. “He’s supposedly come famous rock star or something, on tour with the rest of his group. The whole thing is being treated as quiet as we can. These guys are important enough to garner full security measures. They contacted the hospital director to make sure there were enough guards in place to keep anyone who isn’t supposed to be here out.” The tension in my shoulders pulled them back a little straighter as Mark filled me in, my nerves getting to me slightly as I began to feel the weight of the situation that was about to be placed on me. Trying to relax them, I asked, “What is he coming in for, Mark? What should I be expecting and what all do I need to get prepped?” “It seems he fell off the stage during rehearsals and might have a concussion as well as potential broken bones. He’ll need x-rays as well as a CT scan and a full blood workup. We should also check for any internal bleeding, potentially broken ribs, and if there are, a scan of the lungs just to make sure there’s nothing that’s going to hinder his breathing.” My eyes widen slightly at everything Mark was telling me as we walked on the emergency room floor. “Shit, Mark. How big was this stage he fell from?” Mark sighed. “I don’t know, but the hospital administrators want everything on this guy checked. If everything goes well, this will be an amazing boost of publicity for the hospital. And I don’t even want to think about what would happen if something went wrong while this guy is under our care.” I could understand Mark’s worry. It wasn’t that long ago that an actor had died in a hospital in California and the hospital had taken a serious hit in benefactors for it. I took a deep breath, holding it for a moment in hopes it would help me calm down. Letting it out, I slipped into “work mode” where anything that was not an immediate concern about the patients who would be under my care faded away. “How long before he gets here?” My voice has gone a bit softer with a calming cadence to it. “He should be here in the next….” Mark was interrupted as an ambulance pulled up, the paramedics getting the occupied stretcher from the back, rushing inside. I glanced at Mark with a slight smirk. “You were saying?” Turning to the paramedics, I told them to take the patient into room 7 quickly, a tall man who was wearing a breathing mask following close behind them. I nodded my head slightly in his direction, hoping he would take it as a sign that I was to be the one taking care of his talent. “Well, I guess it’s time to get to work.” I said in Mark’s general direction before heading off after the group that had just passed me. The paramedics had just finished moving my patient on to the examination bed as I approached the door to the room, two security guards heading towards me. Smiling slightly, I showed the guards my badge before they had a chance to even question me. I was waiting for the paramedics to leave, with the stretcher before entering the room. Walking in, I smiled warmly at the two men who were left. “Hi there. My name is Mallory and I’ll be your nurse this evening.” I said in nearly flawless Korean, intentionally making a mistake or two to keep suspicions down. I walked over to the man lying in the bed, my calm and professional demeanor taking over me, pushing the last bits of nerves from me. “What would like for me to call you?” “You can call me Taehyung.” My patient told me in a muffled but surprisingly deep voice. I couldn’t see much of his features as he, and the man behind me, both had on masks that covered the lower half of their faces, but Taehyung’s eyes were among the most striking I’d ever seen. The mop of obviously dyed blonde hair was tousled in such a way that, even with the intensity of his eyes, he had boyish quality to him. Nodding, I quickly reached for the in-room computer so I could start filling in his information. “Okay, Taehyung. Tell me about what happened and why you came in to see me tonight.” I smiled brighter, trying to make him feel at ease so he’d tell me everything I needed to know. He started to recount the fall from the stage, looking at the man behind me as if for confirmation of the events. I turned and addressed him. “Were you present when Taehyung here fell, Mr….?” I trailed my sentence off, waiting for him to fill the bank in. “Mr. Sejin. And yes, I was there. I’m the boys' manager.” He said. “Okay Mr. Sejin, how about you tell me what happened while I start getting Taehyung’s vital signs?” I asked of the man.

Mr. Sejin began to tell the exact same story that Taehyung had started telling me as I turned away from them both to grab the cart that housed the blood pressure monitor. I closed my eyes to keep from rolling them while taking in a deep breath. They were hiding something and I wouldn’t be able to do my job unless I knew everything.

I turned back to Taehyung, reaching out to grab his arm. As soon as I made contact with his skin, I knew what it was they were hiding. My eyes widened as my fingertip touched skin that was much too cold for the ambient room temperature and as I watched, Taehyung’s eyes flashed the pure and blinding green that could only mean he was one thing. Vampire. I sucked in a sharp breath at the realization, knowing my heart rate had increased as a small pang of fear cut through me. Taehyung, however, seemed to be mesmerized by me, grabbing on to my hand with a gentleness that would only be reserved for you had spent a lifetime caring for and loving. I quickly leaned in, whispering, "I know what you are and I know you're not hurt. Why are you here?" When he spoke, it was but a breath and it held the same respect and softness with which he was holding my hand. “I found you again.”

| Chapter 2 |