#the new chapter leaks have me SO FEARFUL this is the last we are seeing of eri

[yokai-girlie]

i swear to GOD if this manga ends without Aizawa and Yamada getting their Shirakumo closure AND WITHOUT Aizawa keeping Eri then Shigaraki won’t be the only one with the goal to destroy everything

[midnighthazee]

Greenridge ABO Series

Series Masterlist Masterlist

Warnings: Torture, mentions of abuse, mentions of blood, explicit language, name calling, fear, near death experiences....

WC: 1757

Chapter 1

“I have business to handle with the Harlow pack tomorrow. Frankie and Triston are going with me to meet with our allies. I need you here to be in charge of the house while I’m gone.” Alpha Lewis says to Hayes.

“You got it. I will keep you updated.” Hayes nodded his head.

“I know nothing will really be going on around here but I will be gone for a few days. Maids should be here to clean at 9 am… Oh and uh, make sure they feed the omegas. I think they forgot yesterday.” Lewis rolled his eyes as if it was silly for them to have forgotten.

“Surprised I can’t hear their stomachs growling from up here.” Milo chuckled, walking into the room.

“Y’all two stay out of trouble this time. Last time you burned down my shed.” Lewis pointed a finger at Milo.

“Hey…it was old anyways. We built you a nicer one.” Milo said.

“Yeah so I don’t want to lose this one either.” Lewis said, leaving the room.

Lewis is Alpha to the Nyko pack. A pack known for its ruthless leader, large numbers, and murderous ways. Alpha Lewis took over two of the neighboring packs, making them all submit to his rule. Anyone who refused, he slaughtered in front of their family. In doing so, he grew vastly in territory and numbers, now having nearly fifty members loyal to him. No one dares cross him, for a war could break out - most of the surrounding packs don’t even come close to the numbers he has. 

For the most part, any remaining packs that neighbor his territory live in harmony with him. They stay on their land and out of his way and he doesn’t overtake their land.

Alpha Lewis’s immediate pack consists of a lesser alpha, five betas and three omegas. The lesser alpha is his younger brother as well as one of the betas. The rest of the people under his rule live in their own dwellings and not in his house like the immediate pack. A few members of the pack share rooms but the omegas are kept locked up in the basement.

Nightfall was approaching as Hayes and Milo unlocked the padlock on the basement door. Alpha Lewis had left late morning and should be in Harlow territory by now. Which means he’s far away and off-the grid for the rest of the night. He will probably check in tomorrow morning but for now, the boys were home with just the omegas. The two other betas left behind decided to go see a movie in town.

The basement was half finished. The unfinished part had prison looking cells - one for each omega and an extra. Cement walls and flooring with reinforced steel bars in the front. The walls and floors were damp from leaks, the air smelling of piss and mildew. Each cell had a metal cot with a thin mat on a wire frame, a hole in the ground for them to relieve themselves, and a chain embedded into the wall and connected at the ankle of the omega inside.

The omegas were filthy, hair matted, and covered in injuries and bruises both old and new. They cowered into the back corner as the young alpha and beta appeared. They stopped at one of the female’s door. It was their favorite omega - YOU. You whined, pushing yourself further into the back wall, but they just laughed. 

“C’mon bitch….we wanna play.” Milo taunted.

Hayes opened your door and stepped inside. You cowered in the corner, shaking and shying away as he unlocked the cuff on your ankle. Then he snatched you up and guided you out. You winced in pain as he forced you to walk. You knew Alpha Lewis must be gone if they decided to “play” with you. They only took you out to play when he wasn’t home to boss them around and keep them busy. So they use you to stay entertained.

You endured whatever game they came up with, knowing no one would take your side or care what they did to you. Their latest interest is a game of hunting. And it seemed like it would be the same game again tonight as they led you through the living room towards the back door.

Wincing at the bright lights, you looked down and tried not to trip over your own feet as you walked. Your limbs hurt, you were tired and hungry, and you were not in the mood to entertain them. Not that you ever were, but most nights they bring you out, you use it to your advantage and study the terrain. One day you will escape, and when you do, you will know how to get away. But tonight, you didn’t have it in you.

“Alright bitch… run.” Milo commanded with an eager smile.

Your feet were heavy and you felt like doing anything but running. All the walking made you lightheaded honestly and you wanted to just curl up and die. You drop to the floor, sitting as your hands support you from fully laying on the floor.

They both sigh dramatically.

“I think she needs some motivation..” Hayes says.

Milo pulls a gun from the back of his pants. It was a BB gun, modified to have a stronger shot and shoot bigger pellets. He aims it at you, touching the side of your head. Your breath catches in your throat as you slowly turn to see the barrel of the gun aimed at you. Hayes flashed his BB gun too.

“I got new pellets…” Milo wiggles his eyebrows. “They are silver.”

Hayes whips his head to his brother, brows furrowed.

“So… run.” Milo growls.

You scramble to your feet and take off, knowing too much silver will kill you. You hear the pop of the gun and hear the whoosh of a pellet go by your ear. He just missed you. You run into the treeline, heading for cover in the woods.

“Silver?! Are you nuts? We aren’t out here to kill her.” Hayes speaks lowly. 

“Relax… I won't hit her much. I just want to use these special ones here.” Milo holds out a gloved hand with pellets in it.

“Why are they blue?” Hayes reaches for one.

“Don’t touch without gloves. Each one contains a small dose of cobalt.”

Hayes steps back quickly. “What the hell?”

“I have an antidote. I’m not gonna kill her.” Milo rolls his eyes.

“Silver is one thing Milo, but cobalt?” Hayes lectures. “Lewis can’t find out we do this when he’s away…remember?”

“She’s getting away, c’mon.” Milo says, running into the woods after you.

This went on for over an hour. They would get too close when you stopped to catch your breath, which was often, and you would feel the pellets pierce your skin. The pain kept the adrenaline pumping, pushing you to get up from behind whatever tree or bush you were using to hide and keep running. This was the first time they used silver pellets. Most of the time the regular pellets hurt enough to keep you running away, especially when they got too close. But this pain was much worse. 

One of the first times they decided to play their little hunting game with you, you decided that the pain wasn’t worth all the running. You refused to play along and in turn you were badly beaten - worse than the pellets would have been. They threatened to tell Alpha Lewis and when that didn’t scare you enough (because you knew he wasn’t home), they took to beating you. They broke three ribs and your leg. The healing was excruciating and took longer than it should have thanks to the terrible living conditions and lack of food.

They must have explained to Alpha Lewis what happened when he was gone because he didn’t say anything about your injuries and was more irritated with you than usual. He also withheld a few meals from you and kept you locked in the basement and used the other omegas for his fun for a while. From that day forward, she knew not to underestimate the brothers, or the absence of their alpha.

You ran as fast as your legs would go, the ground beneath your bare feet feeling like glass shards with every step. You huffed as you weaved between the trees and bushes.  You could feel the branches slashing at your skin as you ran past but you didn’t let it stop you. Plus the cover of night made it nearly impossible to see anything or where you were going.

As you ran, the world felt as if it began to tilt. You blinked and shook your head trying to focus. It didn’t work and you lost your footing, stumbling forward. You hit the ground with a thud, knocking the air from your lungs. You cough, trying to breathe in air as your heart pounded.

“We can smell your blood.” Hayes taunted.

Forcing yourself to stand, your limbs feel heavy. Wincing as you stand, you stumble as you try to stand straight. What was happening? Was this because you hadn’t eaten in like two days? You heard a branch snap behind you. Whipping your head around, you don’t see anything. They sounded close so you took off again. 

As you run, you begin to slow. It feels as if you're trudging through mud. You push with all your might but you don’t feel right. Looking around, you realize you’re not on your usual path. These trees haven’t been marked by you from the previous nights. There’s no dirt path beneath you either - at least that you can see in the darkness of the woods. Looking around, you were definitely lost. Fear creeped up as your stomach churned.

You run, hoping you can circle back to the path, afraid to run into any neighboring territories. Alpha warned you of the awful things they would do if they found you unwelcomed on their land. Shivering at the thought, your eyes feel heavy. You push through your head as it spins but it’s no use. You stumble over a tree root and tumble forward.

You reach a hill and manage to tumble down the ferns and ivy. Your body hits the ground with a thud and you feel yourself slipping into darkness, your whole body screaming at you in pain. When the brothers do find you, you are definitely going to pay for this.

TAGLIST:

@its-the-solar-system @estella-novella

[fall0utmind]

MEDICAL LEAK AU pt2

Part 1 here

Chapter 2 is up on ao3

🤍🤍

Please be advised of content warning for suicide - no descriptions but some cruel words - see ao3 for sections to skip and message me if you need to.

Feedback is always appreciated

Would you still love me if I told you my darkest secrets?

Ch 2-

~3k

They stumble through the doorway to the motorhome, Marc instantly collapsing onto the worn couch tucked into the corner. Alex has procured a blanket from somewhere and is busily tucking it around him, refusing to let Marc out of his sight. He bustles around the small kitchenette, busying himself with making some coffee.

Neither of their parents were able to attend the race this weekend. Marc doesn’t know if he is grateful for that, or not. They both knew, of course. It had been a testing time for the family, the fallout with Valentino, along with the public backlash, and Marc’s declining mental health had left him heartbroken and hopeless. After his first attempt, Marc returned to his room stripped bare. All signs of Valentino Rossi expunged whilst he was in a hospital bed; the only reminder was his broken heart. It had just made Marc cry harder at the time, Roser wrapped around him in his childhood bedroom. It had taken him many years to pick up the pieces after that, with several other falls along the way. But he takes comfort in the fact he is still here, life has beaten him down over and over; he has been kicked (literally), beaten, and spat out by both Vale and the media, but he always kept going. His family has made it out, they are safe, and he is safe. And really, that is all he can ask for.

Alex observes Marc with increasing concern. He has been on the sofa, swaddled in blankets, for 45 minutes with no signs of movement. His coffee mug is forgotten in his hands, as he stares blankly at the wall, no doubt revisiting the years that haunted them both. As much as Marc likes to pretend that he is unaffected, Alex knows that those years did lasting damage to his psyche; he has noticed in the way he acts around others, how he no longer trusts so easily, and how he seems to be acting around almost everyone except a select few people. He knows that his older brother harbours a lot of guilt for the past, thinking that he had done Alex some kind of disservice. Alex is just glad he still has an older brother.

At some point a Gresini representative knocks on the motorhome door, speaking to Alex in hushed tones. After they leave, Marc numbly listens to his brother relaying the extent of the damage. The media has found out about Marc’s suicide attempts in 2015, but no one knows the details, and it is hoped that it will stay that way. So far, no other records have been accessed, or at least not published. Legal is already working tirelessly to understand what has gone wrong, but for now there is nothing Marc can do. News has spread fast, and Marc does not doubt that by tomorrow the entire grid will know about how fucking pitiful he is. The thought makes his head hurt and his eyes water.

“You should try to get some sleep. The team are putting out a statement about respecting your privacy but for now there is nothing more we can do”.

Marc nods slowly, feeling adrift amongst all that has happened today. He rises unsteadily to his feet and shuffles to the bathroom. He flicks the switch and blinks heavily at the harsh lights which blind him. He almost doesn’t recognise the person in the reflection, with a pale face and hollow eyes. He shudders, it reminds him of a time when every mirror would render the same hideous portrait of despair every day. Marc pointedly avoids looking at his reflection again. He knows Alex won’t leave him alone tonight, fearful of the unhealed wounds the past has left which have once again been reopened. Instead, with a resigned sigh, Marc finishes in the bathroom and hauls himself into bed, Alex curling up on the other side. The position is so reminiscent of their younger years, filling him with a hollow kind of sadness. A heavy blanket of exhaustion weighs upon him, and that, alongside his brother's soothing presence, lulls him into a deep sleep.

*

Marc awakes to an empty bed and the sound of knocking on their motorhome door. He takes a moment to recentre himself. It must be around 8 am, given the way the light spills in from the window. It is Saturday morning in Misano and yesterday the entire MotoGP world discovered arguably his biggest secret. Marc isn’t sure good morning is appropriate.

The hushed whispers of two familiar voices filter in from the living area, clearly speaking softly to let Marc rest. He groans and blindly feels around for his phone, before remembering that Alex had taken it off him at some point yesterday. It was probably for the best that he didn’t know what the media were saying right now. Bastards.

He rolls out of bed, grabs a pair of sweats and the first t-shirt he sees (it is definitely Alex’s, given that it’s way too long for him) and stumbles into the kitchen, where a cup of coffee is already waiting on the counter. He has never been more grateful for his little brother and his worldly knowledge that 8 is too early for Marc. He’s a little shocked to see Aleix Espargaro sitting next to his brother on the sofa, both watching him with matching worried expressions. He would laugh at the sight of the two men mirroring each other in such a dad-coded way, if not for the current circumstances. Instead, he frowns back at them. Aleix rises to his feet, approaching Marc cautiously, giving him a chance to move away, before drawing him into a tight hug.

“I’m so sorry. I had no idea.”

The older man holds him for some time, Marc’s head tucked into his neck. As he pulls away, Aleix’s hands come to the side of his face, holding him gently.

“Promise me you will tell me if it happens again, I do not like the thought of you in so much pain. But now I see that you have already been through it. You should never have had to do it alone, Cariño.”

His eyes are anguished but sincere throughout his speech, observing Marc with undisguised worry and affection. Marc can’t stand it and looks away once Aleix has released him, worrying his lower lip. The older man takes this as his cue, thanking Alex for his coffee, and quietly making his way over to the door, not before shooting him a concerned glance.

“You will let me know if anyone gives you shit today, I will keep an eye out for you. Look after yourself, Marc.”

And with that, he’s gone, the quiet snick of the door behind him. Marc raises an eyebrow at Alex.

“What was that?”

Alex sighs, “He is concerned about you, hermano, he has always had a soft spot for you. He is annoyed at himself for not noticing sooner.”

“I hide it well”

“I know”

*

The rest of the morning is relatively normal. The people he interacts with are evidently unsure of the acceptable conduct for this situation; Marc finds it terribly amusing, in a dark kind of way. He has decided the best course of action is to pretend nothing has happened in the twisted hope that if he ignores it, everyone else will too. He’s sure his old therapist would be delighted. The security presence in the paddock appears to have suspiciously doubled overnight. People are staring, he can feel it in the way the back of his neck prickles, but no one approaches him. He doesn’t care if they must bring in the goddamn military if that’s what it takes to prevent another PR disaster.

He makes it to the pitlane in record time, dodging all signs of human life, taking the back alleys wherever possible. He enters the rear entrance of the Gresini garage, finding his crew to check in before qualifying. He is pleased with the bike set-up from yesterday, feeling confident in the pace this weekend. On the bad days, Marc thinks he will never know the feeling of winning again, that he will never experience a champagne shower from the top step of the podium, the world chanting his name. That he will fade into irrelevance, a has-been of the sport, once Valentino Rossi’s great rival, now just another name. But this year is the closest he has come in 3 years, and he is not willing to let go without a fight, because Marc Marquez is synonymous with winning, it is his purpose and his destiny. If he is not riding, if he is not winning, he does not know who he truly is.

He watches the junior categories warm up, reminiscing on those days of his career, before the pressure and before Valentino. He is glad to see David achieving so much this season. He sees a younger version of himself in the boy and it scares him, terrified that the young Columbian will get burnt in the same way that Marc did. He vows to do everything in his power to protect him but let him grow into the world champion he is destined to be. They already training together, and Marc can see the way he is rubbing off on the teenager, he just hopes that does not become a curse.

*

The second free practice of the weekend occurs without a hitch, landing both Alex and Marc into Q2, much to the chagrin of the Italian fans (and really, could people not let it go by now?). Marc is determined not to let the recent events hinder his performance. Despite this, he is increasingly aware of his rising anxiety about facing the others on the grid. His mind is consumed by thoughts of judgement and disgust, creating pictures of his colleagues deserting him, refusing to be seen with him as in 2015. No matter how hard he tries, even after his talk with Aleix this morning, he is frantic with worry, unable to sit still.

“You will wear a hole in the floor if you do not stop soon.”

Alex appears from around the corner, watching him pace.

“We need to get ready. Are you feeling okay?”

Marc can’t face the idea of putting the younger through even more pain because of him, so he simply nods in agreement, refusing to meet the unconvinced look Alex is no doubt giving him.

He already has his leathers on, so he grabs the rest of his kit, and starts towards his crew, Alex heading in the opposite direction. He shoves down his fear and greets the people waiting for him with a plethora of fist bumps and hugs. He is grateful that his team are treating him as usual, seemingly recovered from yesterday’s shock. Some had wrapped him in a hug earlier this morning, others laying comforting hands on his shoulders, unabashedly showing their support and filling him with warmth. He holds onto that feeling as he prepares to ride, knowing a few more people are fighting in his corner.

*

Marc feels alive. The bike is singing underneath him, so responsive to him. Every move is calculated to perfection, cornering on the edge of impossible - he’s probably giving the guys in the garage a heart attack every lap. But he feels like he’s flying, whipping around the track on a bike that loves him as much as he loves it. He knows he’s putting in good times, his pace almost matching the newer Ducati, something which is the talk of the paddock at the moment. The move to a different constructor has brought a new lease of life to his career, quieting the doubts and prompting the whispers: “Marc Marquez is back”.

By the time the checkered flag falls, Marc is on top of the world. His mind wiped clear of the media, Valentino, and 2015. He doesn’t know where he placed, and it isn’t until he looks up at the timing board and sees his 93 at the top of the list, that he allows himself to grin.

Marc rides back to the garage, tailed by Alex, still grinning under his helmet. He is greeted and is greeted with a warm reception from the team, cheering as he and his brother come to a halt. He is rained in congratulations from his team, hands slapping his back and wide smiles directed at him. It is then that he spots Dovi. His old friend is standing to the side, a proud smile face. Marc has no idea what he is doing here, but he isn’t about to complain, having missed the older man in recent years. Dovi was one of the few people who had his back all those years ago, for which he is endlessly grateful. He jumps off his bike and almost straight into Dovi’s arms, uncaring of the cameras trained on the pair.

“What are you doing here?”

“Ah, can I not come and see my friend outperform everyone in the sport that we both love?”

Marc huffs a laugh in response, a faint blush colouring his cheeks. He knows why Dovi is truly here, despite his friend’s bullshit, but he cannot bring himself to be annoyed about his obvious weakness. It is nice to have a friend who is not Alex around. He knows affection is rolling off him in waves but simply does not care -pleased at the ease that is quick to settle between them, despite the years.

“I will be with you in a few minutes, go annoy someone else whilst we debrief”

Dovi laughs at that, making Marc grin, all teeth, in return.

Debrief is a quick affair, the team are delighted with p1, and simply want to talk about the race set-up, as well the minute areas for improvement on track. They release Marc after 20 minutes, giving him proud smiles and comforting touches as he leaves. He is once again overwhelmed by his love for the team which has re-awoken his passion for the sport which has taken but also given him so much.

A quick scan of the garage tells him Dovi has found one Alex Marquez to annoy, much to Marc’s amusement. He grabs his phone off the table (he had regained possession of it from Alex earlier) and turns it on for the first time in 12 hours, desperate to check his messages since he has 5 minutes to himself. He scrolls through his notifications.

His manager and parents have messaged, the latter asking him to call them when he has a chance, although he’s sure they have probably spoken to Alex, explaining the lack of urgency. He has a message from Casey Stoner, telling him to keep his head up and to ignore the media, although his choice of words is a little stronger. Marc lets out a startled laugh, warmed by the unexpected gesture from the older man. The next text makes him stop in his tracks, confusion bubbling inside him. It’s from an unknown number, and simply reads “Stop playing games.” A sense of unease fills Marc as he deletes the message, unwilling to entertain whoever thinks they can hide behind a screen and say what they want, he should just forget about it. The final and most recent text is from Dani. It simply reads “Tell Dovi he’s a dick for stealing my thunder. Unfair advantage, he was already in the country. We’ll be there in a few hours.”

A hand lands on his shoulder from behind, and Dovi’s head follows. Nosy fucker. He lets out a cackle at the text, pulling away to laugh even harder. Marc very much feels like he’s missed a joke, and he has no clue who “we” refers to. He simply replies to the chat with a thumbs up and accepts his fate of being coddled by the older riders for the rest of the weekend.

*

The pole position high doesn’t last very long. Marc and Dovi are walking back towards the motorhomes when he comes crashing back down to earth. Saturdays are always a bit chaotic at the track. But today, it feels worse than usual, with people staring and murmuring as they pass. Some of the comments are less than pleasant. Marc tries not to let it affect him, portraying a persona of indifference, no matter how much the words sting. Dovi talks lowly as they walk, his presence reassuring amidst the harsh whispers washing over them, swelling in a crescendo of cruelty.

“-he should have taken more pills”

“-can’t believe he actually did it”

“How selfish-”

“Have you seen the articles? I read that-”

From the limited information he has been given, or overheard, Marc gathers that the public reaction to the news has been mixed, to say the least. Some people are outraged by the leak and the subsequent media frenzy, destroying any sense of privacy left in Marc’s life. Others have been senselessly cruel, spewing hatred online about his mental health or even going as far as suggesting that he deserves it. Marc swallows the bile in the back of his throat, unwilling to break now. He knows he can’t let the public see his defences crumble, it will only give them more opportunity to kick him when he’s down. He’s so wrapped up in his thoughts that he doesn’t notice who they’re walking towards, until it’s too late.

Marc hears Valentino before he sees him, talking to Pecco in hushed tones. His rapid-fire Italian is so familiar, yet also a distant memory. He feels the way his companion stiffens as they approach the pair and senses their eyes burning into him in return. No doubt Pecco has already told the older all about Marc’s breakdown yesterday. The reminder that Valentino is once more witnessing his life falling apart is nauseating. Marc steadfastly ignores them as Dovi steers them in the right direction. A confrontation is not what he needs right now.

He doesn’t register anything is off until someone careens straight into their path, sending Marc stumbling backwards in shock. He flinches at the look of pure hatred on the fan’s face.

“You should have done it properly; you couldn’t even kill yourself correctly. The world would be a better place without you.”

Marc chokes on his breath, his eyes burning, rapidly blinking as he tries to parse the scathing words. Dovi is frozen in shock, horrified that anyone would utter such a thing. Time freezes as the people close enough to have overheard all turn to look in their direction, willing a response from Marc. Ironically, it’s Pecco who breaks the moment, face like thunder as he storms over. Marc watches in a haze as Pecco reaches them, breathing heavily and shooting a look at Dovi, prompting him to drag the Spaniard to safety. Marc distantly registers Valentino frowning over at them, a flash of unreadable emotion in his eyes as he watches Dovi tugging him away.

Marc doesn’t look back, mind too preoccupied with the stewing self-loathing in his gut and the cloud of dark thoughts in his head. As such, he doesn’t see Pecco looming over the man who spat such vicious words at him, gesturing at security for him to be removed and permanently banned. He doesn’t see the older Italian glaring at Marc and Dovi’s retreating forms, a mixture of resentment and jealousy staining his features. He does, however, hear Valentino whispering that it’s not worth it, leading a distraught Pecco away, cracking Marc’s heart clean in two, once again.

[greenhappyseed]

MHA #406 review lite

Yeah, normally I do a “leak reactions” post but the timing for that didn’t work out, so instead I’m looking at the full chapter! (Reminder for newcomers: I don’t look at leaked images or fanscans until after the official chapter is out.)

Aoyama and Hagakure are adorable — love how he puts his jacket around her and is using his bare hands to direct his navel laser. Now update me on how Fatgum is doing!!!

We finally get our first view of Gashly and, I believe, our first Ryukyu sighting during this battle!

Tsukauchi is falling apart more and more each chapter. Horikoshi is delighting in torturing this man.

Nagant’s lying down on a rooftop. All Might and Edgeshot are lying down on rooftops. Is the Rooftop Trio on a rooftop?? Only time will tell.

Speaking of not looking so good, Izuku is huffing and has some really dark rings around his eyes. He dramatically says “it ends here, go beyond” and…we cut to Bakugo and AFO just as Izuku looks like his middle finger is about to Gearshift + Air Force flick Tomura into next year.

Love how Bakugo calls AFO a filler character as AFO calls him a pointless pebble. I especially like how the English translation uses the “pebble in my path” phrase that Bakugo previously used to describe Izuku. (I haven’t checked yet to see if the Spanish versions use the same lines.)

I know there’s a lot of discourse surrounding Bakugo’s power up, but it reads to me like it’s not a new “power” so to speak. Rather he’s using his honed instinct and insight into his own body (remember how he’s always coming up with new ultimate moves on his own?). But, instead of focusing on the outcome (e.g., victory, or being the strongest) he’s focusing on the process. Much like All Might recapturing his own smile from the joy of helping others, Katsuki is finding joy in the simple act of pushing himself and his quirk. That’s something AFO doesn’t understand. As much as he wants to live forever and mess around with quirks forever, he really only enjoys simple quirks that combine well with others. AFO doesn’t like the process of exploring his quirks or honing his skills with them.

Seeing Mitsuki and Masaru cry is giving me FEELINGS. Horikoshi didn’t have to include them but he did and oof.

AFO talks about “the hatred I harbor” for Second, whose name is revealed as Kudo. Kudo is, apparently, the one that AFO loathes “above all others” — even All Might, apparently?? — because it Kudo hadn’t reached out his hand to Yoichi, then OFA wouldn’t have been created. This is AFO’s side of the story we heard from Yoichi way back in Chapter 310: “The moment you [Kudo] reached out your hand to me was when One for All was truly born.” After Chapter 369 came out last year, I wrote some meta about why AFO might be crying while he force chokes Kudo, and ventured a guess that AFO harbored a deep hatred for Kudo, either because he created OFA or possibly because they knew each other. I don’t think there’s anything in 406 that changes those posts significantly, though it does seem that AFO’s hatred for Kudo lies primarily in the fact that he reached out his hand to Yoichi….though AFO still knew an awful lot about Gearshift and how it was “supposed” to work…

Ugh, I really, really want the OFA/AFO backstory now. Like if it’s 3-8 chapters of backstory I’m ok with that as a breather/precursor for Izuku vs Tomura (see bullet #5 above re Izuku about to exhaust his body from overuse of Gearshift).

Finally…I LOVE KATSUKI CALLING HIMSELF “KACCHAN”!!!! Izuku reclaimed “Deku” a long time ago with help from Ochako, and now Katsuki is embracing “Kacchan” with help from Izuku. Yes, Bakugo’s hero name is still Great Explosion Murder God Dynamight, and that name was fully approved by All Might last chapter. In 406, however, Katsuki is referring to himself as a civilian and using the name “Kacchan” with no fear whatsoever of sounding diminutive in front of AFO (or the cameras) …and it’s absolutely beautiful and I love it. He’s not posturing one bit, he’s free to be fully himself, and even his parents can tell. He gleefully taunts AFO about being senile despite AFO looking like a child, which is just the perfect amount of teen boy prickishness that this fight needs.

[darklydeliciousdesires]

Lost & Found - Chapter Twelve.

Thank you so much to everyone for your reads, reblogs and reviews. I appreciate you hugely :)

Previous chapters - One Two Three Four Five Six Seven Eight Nine Ten Eleven

Words - 3,465

Warnings - 18+ content throughout, Minors DNI. Recounts of kidnap, child trafficking, physical/verbal/sexual abuse.

“You okay?” 

She took a moment to assess that, pulling the helmet from her head as she looked over at the clubhouse. “I think so.” 

Guero slid an arm around her waist, kissing her cheek. “Just remember, everyone here is a friend. Nobody wants to hurt you.” 

“It isn’t that,” she quickly corrected, fluffing her hair as she let out a long breath. “It’s just the last time I came here, I was still so scared and bent out of shape. I hate the term triggering, but that’s kind of what it is.” 

He could understand that stance. The clubhouse was home from home to him, but for Emma, it symbolised a time she was desperately trying to move forward from, being so distrusting and suspicious of the new place and everybody within it, all bar him. And maybe one other person.  

“Tell you what, we gotta head in now, but I know EZ will want you to confirm everything I’ll go in there and tell him. You wait with Lee, and I’ll come get you when we’re done.” It was Monday, Guero calling EZ on Saturday night and informing him he had something to bring to the table, his president telling him he’d schedule something for Monday. It was a lot easier for communications if the guys didn’t all have raging hangovers, as was the norm for a Sunday.  

She nodded, receiving a kiss from him before he pointed her in the direction of the workshop, Emma walking over, looking all around as she did. It was much bigger than she’d noticed when there in the darkened early hours of the morning, bits of bikes littering the immediate space around the workshop. It was very in place with the haphazard collection of scrap that walled their surroundings. 

“Oil hose, we ain’t buddies. Why’d the fuck do you keep leaking, you’re brand new!” she heard Lee muttering, coming to a stop and clearing her throat. “Emma! How you doin’, how’s it going, you good?” 

She smiled at her chirp. “Yeah, yeah I’m good. Or at least better than when you last saw me.” 

“I’ll fuckin’ say!” she snorted, clamping off the hose and shaking her head, giving it the double middle finger salute, standing to wipe her dirty hands on a rag. “You look great, sugar. Put on a couple of much needed pounds, I see. You were kinda scary skinny when we met.” 

She remembered back to the shocking sight of herself in the bathroom mirror, nodding as she fiddled with her hair. “Yeah, I was. I never want to see a protein bar again, or I’ll barf. It’s what I survived on in the container.”  

Lee snorted softly, raising her eyebrows. “I can see why. If nothing else than they taste fuckin’ awful. My old man snacks on ‘em and I can’t bear the damned things. Taste vile, like dried dough, stale cookies, man!” She paused for a second, looking between Emma and the bike she was working on, feeling awkward.  

It was entirely mutual.  

They had shared a personal experience together, Lee being the person Emma had trusted enough in a state of fear and anxiety to look after her, yet not knowing one another at all. The elephant in the room that was Emma’s arrival in her life also made it difficult, Lee knowing she was tiptoeing around blurting out that very question. She curbed her usual bluntness, though.  

“Cut looks like it’s healed nicely,” she finally spoke, Emma approaching the bike she was working on, wondering how anyone kept it on two wheels. It was enormous, reminding her of one her dad had when she was five.  

She thumbed her head, nodding. “Yeah, it did. Guero took the stitches out for me last night as they were starting to come undone and push out.” Lee resisted the urge to say that a biker with a cute smile and a steady hand could have still ballsed it up easily, noting it wasn’t a necessary observation when he’d done a good job, Emma continuing. “Do you want a hand with anything?”  

“Nah, don’t want you to ruin your dress, sunshine,” she replied, waving her hand casually. 

Emma smirked, looking down at the beige, pink and blue flowery dress she had on with her new (to her) cowboy boots she’d bought from a thrift store a few days back. “It only cost a couple a’ five bucks, it’s not irreplicable. I need to get to buying some better clothes, actually. Guero has a limit of twenty minutes with being taken shopping before he gets bored, so I don’t want to torture him.” 

A couple a’ five bucks, Lee recognised that syntax instantly. New Jersey, although Emma didn’t have the accent at all. She’d served with troops who hailed from the garden state, and they used the same speech patterns. “He’s just like Obispo.” A slight twitch of her eye confirmed that it was a name she hadn’t heard. “That’s Bishop’s actual name.”  

“Ahh.”  

“Yeah, so me being somewhat of a loner where girlfriends are concerned, I just go by myself to circumvent the fuckin’ sour face and frowning,” she snorted, once again trying the hose only for oil to come dripping out. “Fuck’s sake! Fuckin’ thing! Complete bastard!” she fumed. “So yeah, if you ever wanna come with me, I’d love the company.”  

“I’d really like that. Thanks, Lee,” she smiled, looking down at the oil stopped dripping, Lee clamping the hose off once more. Her eyes took a little tour over the drips, noticing something that perhaps the pretty lady mechanic might’ve missed. “Here, the sealing washer has dropped out. That’s why it’s leaking.” 

Lee rolled her eyes. “Well, I’ll be fuckin’ bent over and poked up the butt with a ten-inch cock!” she exclaimed, Emma snort laughing at her expression, remembering back to the afternoon before where she’d received just that. She wasn’t sure Guero’s cock was quite that long, but it couldn’t be too far off. “Thanks, sugar. That’s a good eye you have, especially knowing what it was. Alrighty, let’s get it back on the hose.”  

“My dad used to do up old bikes. Some he kept; most he sold on. I’d sit in his garage and help him, so I picked stuff up,” she explained, Lee nodding as she listened, refitting the hose with its sealing washer back in and unclamping it. No drips.  

“Yes! Gimme some knucks!” She held her fist out, Emma bumping hers against it with a smile. “I might have to take you up on your offer to help me out. I just got rid of my last guy; he became too preoccupied with the idea of joining the MC.”  

“Oh, was it Bottles?” she asked curiously, Lee shaking her head. 

“Nah. He was a guy they wouldn’t even consider. Didn’t have the mettle, and you fuckin’ gotta have balls to live in this life.” Emma could well imagine. It was the same as people willingly wanting to join the life she’d left behind. Entrenched in the world of the mafia, only the strong survived. Was she strong, she wondered, or just lucky? She’d gotten out alive but not unscathed, so perhaps a little of both. 

“Sounds like what I’m used to,” she replied quietly, picking a crumb of mud from the bike’s exhaust pipe. They fell into an uncomfortable silence, Lee chewing the inside of her cheek as she looked between Emma and the Harley a few times. “You want to ask me about it, don’t you?”  

She did. It had been itching at her curiosity, but she didn’t want to be insensitive. “Yeah, but only if that’s cool with you. You can tell me I’m being a nosey ole’ bag if you like, I don’t mind. I mean shit, I dunno if you’ve even fuckin’ said anything to Guero yet. Yeah, yeah ignore me, pay no mind, I’ll shut up.” She made an annoyed noise in her throat, shaking her head of wild, blonde waves. “Poor chick walked up to your fuckin’ workshop all of ten minutes ago and you’re expecting her to spill!” 

Emma sensed a very good person within Lee, someone she could perhaps come to call friend. “It’s okay, I’ll tell you. You got a seat?”  

Two old beer bottle crates were proffered forth, Lee pulling out her cigarettes and lighting up, offering the pack to Emma as they sat down. “Don’t smoke, but thanks. So yeah, I was in that container because I ran away from Rocco Lombardi, who’d been holding me prisoner for nineteen years.”  

She went into her explanation, not quite as detailed as the one she’d given Guero, but all the same, it contained enough details to make Lee’s jaw drop in absolute horror at several points throughout. By the time she was finished, the woman at her side sat with her hands clasped over her mouth, shaking her head. 

“Fuck.” 

“Sums it up nicely, huh?” 

“Fuck!” She dropped her hands in her lap, scoffing in disbelief, her eyes bewildered. “I’m not a hugger, I really ain’t, but Christ, sugar.” Emma felt herself pulled into slender, tattooed arms, Lee stroking her back as she held her. “You’re so brave, enduring all that. Fuckin’ fuck, no wonder you were that way when you first arrived here!” 

She shrugged a little, chewing her thumb as they parted. “I don’t know if I’d call it brave entirely. I kind of froze myself to it, accepted my fate. Like I said too, Marie made it better. At least I had her, but it’s still kicking me in the ass, that I abandoned her.” 

“I understand,” Lee nodded, shaking herself suddenly. “Well no, I don’t, but I get what you mean. Listen, babe, you couldn’t stay for her. She might’ve been mom to you, but you know you didn’t fuckin’ belong there, and what’s more so did she. I bet she completely understands.” 

“Unless she’s worried out of her mind that Rocco offed me and my body got dumped into the sea or similar.”  

“Why not reach out to her? I can bet as soon as Marie reads that message, she’ll be smart enough to delete it. But like, don’t let me dictate. If you wanna just vanish it’s up to you, your call, you make the decision.”  

Emma continued chewing her thumb for a few moments, weighing it up. “I think I might, you know. Think I might. Her and the kids are literally the only things I miss.”  

“At least you’d be able to let her know you’re alright before you move on,” Lee smiled thinly, folding her arms on her thighs and resting her head down. She was tired. Not that she didn’t love her husband to his very bones, but she did wish his horny time wasn’t between one and three in the morning. “About that, though. How will it sit with you, knowing of course that the club deals with the very man you escaped? I mean whatever it is that’s bloomed between you and pretty boy specifically.”  

Of course, it had played on her mind, being right there in the midst of Rocco’s drug runners ever since she arrived. Since things had turned up a gear between her and Guero, though, she’d been too dizzy with happiness to think more on it. Lee’s question was valid, though. “I knew exactly who and what Guero was from the first second I saw him, a member of the MC who ran drugs for Rocco. I’m fine with it. I know it happens, I might’ve come here all shaky and wide eyed, but I’m not a naïve woman.  

“Living in the world I did for so long; I know the deal. I just have to hope that he never comes to visit unexpectedly, but why would he? As long as the guys continue to keep on running his heroin over the border and up to the docks, he won’t have to move his ass to oversee anything.” 

Thinking on her words, Lee had to admit that it made perfect sense, such a standpoint. She’d survived in a world steeped in organised crime; she’d acclimatise perfectly to being involved with an outlaw. With a few layers of her trauma peeled back, it was clear that Emma was intelligent, sensible and strong. Probably a lot stronger than she realised.  

“Well, here’s fuckin’ hoping he stays up on his Staten Island throne, huh?” Just then they were disturbed by the approach of the one Lee had referred to as pretty boy, Emma’s face lighting up. Lee side eyed her with a little knowing grin. She remembered that face, back when she’d begun dating Bishop, often catching her reflection and trying to dial it back. Such had never been attainable. She loved him way too much.  

“Can I steal my girl?”  

Emma thought her heart was about to thump clean out of her chest, hearing him call her that. Lee’s reply was the perfect antidote to her falling too far into enamoured dizziness, though.  

“No, she’s mine now, you can’t have her back! I need her, she has good eyes for things I apparently miss, like fuckin’ sealing washers.” 

Guero cocked his head, looking entertained. “If you actually wore your glasses on your face rather than your head, you’d miss a lot less.”  

“Bah!” she dismissed, standing up and lighting herself another cigarette. “They make me look old!” 

“That’s because you are old.”  

Oh, his smart mouth. How it’d be his downfall. “You know it’s never, ever wise to anger a woman who can tamper with your brake lines and make it look like a manufacturing fault, don’t you, Ortiz?”  

His eyebrows fluttered, his grin widening. “I’ll make sure I never do, then.”  

Her lips tightened, her eyes narrowing as he laughed. “Fuckin’ smart ass. Get outta here!”  

“I was going anyway.” He received a soft elbow from Emma as they began to walk, calling over her shoulder to Lee that she’d see her later. Walking back over to the clubhouse, he could feel Emma’s body beginning to tense at his side, placing a splayed hand across her lower back. “S’okay, mamas. You’re not gonna have a big audience, just EZ and Bish.”  

Those words reassured her, Guero opening the door and gesturing with his hand, Emma entering the clubhouse. The sound of laughing as pool balls clicked and music she recognised as Motorhead (one of Guero’s favourite bands) filtering from the speakers filled the space, the scent of alcohol and cigarette smoke just as strong as she’d remembered. God, she could really go to town on cleaning the place, she thought, being steered to her right.  

There at a table sat EZ and Bishop, the former standing with a wide smile. “Well, well. You look a hell of a lot better than you did two weeks ago, sweetheart.” He reached to pat her arm gently, gesturing to the couch opposite where he and the president were sitting.  

He could see the nervousness flickering in her eyes still, of course knowing she wasn’t out of the woods from her ordeal just yet. It’d take a long time, but the improvement she had made was noticeable. She stood a little taller, looked much less anxious even though it of course was still just under the surface with her.  

She moved to take a seat, jumping a little when Gilly loudly celebrated his potting of a ball over at the pool table, her stiffened body relaxing a fraction when Guero took his place at her side. 

“Good to see you looking less spooked, Emma,” EZ acknowledged with a nod and a wide smile. “Again, I apologise for my actions when we first met.” She wasn’t convinced that the apology was at all genuine, something about him giving her a feeling of unease. “Alright, tell us what you know about this alleged trafficking you think we’re gonna be propositioned to get involved with.” 

As if speaking of Marie earlier to Lee had invoked a little of her courage, Emma’s reply was forthright and crisp. “There’s nothing alleged about it. They’ve been dabbling in it for nearly twenty years, snatching children from the arms of their parents, but in recent times they’ve become much shrewder. Runaways, young kids on the streets, those who won’t be so easily noticed as missing, like I was.” 

“And you heard him say in as many words that he planned to begin bringing undocumented kids over?” Bishop asked, his eyes narrowing at the very thought of any other children facing what Emma had suffered. Guero hadn’t gone into huge amounts of detail, but what he had shared with them, it’d been bad enough.  

She scoffed a little, cocking her head with a shy smile as she tucked her hair behind her ear. “He was never stupid enough to say it in as many words, but I got to know his lingo, his code phrases. Tiny consignment meant kids, and when he called meetings at his home, usually under the guise of an innocent guy's night playing poker, I’d overhear. It was always his intention to begin running the tiny consignment along with golden brown. You’ll get the reference if you’re familiar with the song by The Stranglers.” Of course, she meant the heroin, the song long thought to either be about a girl of Mediterranean heritage, or the pleasure of the narcotic.  

Both men nodded, Emma continuing. “I have no idea when he’s going to put his proposition to you, I’m afraid I can’t be helpful there. At a guess I’d say a while, though. He probably wants to ensure the runs you’re making for him continue to go smoothly before you’ll be expected to begin trafficking children, too. Just know that he will, and if you don’t comply, well.” She paused, gulping. If they didn’t, they’d all be dead, and she’d be back on Staten Island. “I don’t have to spell it out for any of you.” 

“I guess we play the waiting game. Moving heroin is one thing, trafficking kids? We aren’t about that,” EZ spoke, exchanging a glance with Bishop.  

He began nodding, scratching his beard. This was what he’d been waiting for ever since their first meet with Lombardi up in Vegas. Here it was, the other shoe. “Emma, we appreciate your information. If there’s anything we can do for you, just say the word.” 

“There is, actually. I need access to a doctor, but I can’t use my real identity. He’ll be looking for me, and while reason dictates that if he had any clue where I was at all, he’d have found me by now, I want to remain vanished. I don’t know what that’ll look like long term, but I do know that right now I need help from a doctor off the books. Do you guys know of anyone?”  

“I do,” EZ confirmed, “I’ll give him a call and get back to you on it. He can be discreet for a price.”  

She nodded, feeling relieved. “Thank you. One more thing. Can I borrow a prepay, please? Not one you contact Rocco on?”  

Bishop rose from his seat, going behind the bar and shuffling around, coming back with an old Samsung flip phone and handing it over. “Thanks again, baby. Don’t worry about him either, we ain’t gonna advertise that you’re here to nobody. You’re safe with us.”  

She thanked him, taking the phone and flipping it open. Taking a few moments, wondering how to word her message, she rested her hand to Guero’s thigh as Bishop and EZ walked away, placing the phone in her lap and beginning to chew her thumb... 

Marie was cleaning down the counters in the kitchen of her beautiful mansion when her phone dinged, reaching a well-manicured hand across to grab where she’d placed it out of the way in a large, ornate fruit bowl. Opening the message, her eyes widened.  

Safe. Pinky swear. Love you all the world, mom xxx 

“Oh, Mother Mary!” she sobbed, a hand flying to her mouth as her knees buckled, taking her to the floor as she cried tears of pure relief. Pinky swear, love you all the world. Only one other person knew it was their thing, and that was the little girl she’d raised into the young woman she thought of as her own. And she was safe. At last.  

Love you too, Emsy. Will love you forever. Don’t you ever come back. It’s your time to live. I’m so proud of you xxx 

Pressing send, she immediately deleted all evidence of the messages, while over two thousand miles away, her daughter by love rather than blood sobbed in the arms of her boyfriend after reading her reply. 

[sqarletsworldlesswandering]

New Management: Chapter 2

“Who are you?” Summum rumbled while nestling the two stars between his wings. Should be secure enough to walk back to the Emerald Requiem.

“Delta. And you are Summum, yes?”

Summum paused, looking back up at Delta. “...Correct.” He contemplated his next words carefully. “I… presume you know all you need about this world?”

“You presume correctly. I have been watching, and I have just inherited omnisciency of it.”

Summum kept his expression carefully neutral, eyes ahead as they walked. “You govern this world now?”

“Correct.”

“...May I ask how?”

“Transparently? Usurpation. Wordless is no more.”

Summum suppressed a shiver, hoping his wings stayed still. “Are there more like you?”

“Yes, but they are occupied with their own worlds. We may only have one at a time.”

Better not to ask what happened to Delta’s, then, assuming they had one before this. Summum didn’t want to upset their new god three minutes after meeting them. Assuming, at least, that such caution would matter. Could the Delta read thoughts?

“I can, yes. I often choose not to.”

Well that’s that, then. 

“You are still curious. Spare no questions, Summum, I am here to provide answers.”

“.... What brought you here?”

Delta chuckled. “Irritation with my kin’s treatment of this world.” They sighed, gazing forward in reminiscence. “When my former world was… taken, I turned my attention to getting a new one, naturally. I wanted to aim for one that needed improvement - no sense in ruining a good thing.” Delta scoffed, eyes blinking in grimacing offset. 

“So you looked for a bad thing.”

They nodded. “I had already seen some of Worldless’ decisions previously. Their treatment of the Old Ones. I was… displeased.” 

Summum flinched as Delta’s tone dipped into something darker. “Displeased” sounded like an understatement. 

“No one approved of their actions, but the few available feared Worldless too much to consider challenging them.” 

“Except you?”

“...Yes and no. The odds were not in my favor, but a hefty dose of unpredictable recklessness work wonders. I had a reason to kill, and Worldless was distracted, courtesy of you three.”

“I see….”

“I would not have won otherwise. The fight lasted several days, in your terms, but that was in our timespace. From the outside, it only took a minute.”

“The tremors.”

Delta nodded. 

“I assume the unholy shrieking came from Worldless?”

Delta nodded again, wincing. “My condolences to your ears.”

“Also, are you supposed to be leaking?”

“Leaking…?”

Summum waved vaguely at the floating globs of light.

“Oh, that. Yes, that is… well, not intentional, but not harmful. So no, I am not ‘supposed’ to be leaking, but it is not hurting me.”

Summum nodded slowly, nosing through the doorway into the Requiem. He made his way to the rudimentary nest he’d made, settling down in the familiar, soft divot and nestling the duo safely between his forearms. He wanted to join their nap, truthfully. This was far too much information at once, and something in him writhed uneasily at this stranger. 

Delta folded their legs in, situating themselves tidily in front of the nest - far enough to give space, close enough to be in reach, and within Summum’s line of sight. At least they were decent enough to grant that, he supposed. 

He took a deep breath, preparing another question, but Delta spoke first. 

“Perhaps you should rest as well? You seem tired, and those two ought to be awake for this. We can catch them up when you all wake.”

Summum regarded them warily. True, he wanted to rest, but… to be so vulnerable in front of a stranger? His spine crawled with apprehension, some dark corner in the back of his mind conjuring betrayals and dangers. With a soft huff and a final, pointed glance at Delta, Summum laid down, tucked the duo under his chin, and enclosed them all in his wings, leaving a small space through which he could see Delta. So what if he didn’t quite close one eye? He’d rather doze and watch than sleep blindly. 

Despite his efforts, though, blind sleep came after a few minutes whether he wanted it or not. Off to the side, Delta began humming a soft, lulling tune, and the air filled with drifting particles of light, swirling around the sleeping trio. Up and down and around they wove, spinning dream catchers and butterflies and stars and little clouds. Ever so slowly, they all three relaxed, and the smallest, faint, unknown smile crept its way onto his snout.

Incipit <- | ->

[devilofthehounds]

God Eater 3 Character Novel | In the Name of the White Flower: Chapter 7

[image id: A novel cover. Hilda Henriquez from God Eater 3 stands in the foreground. In the background are profile shots of Abraham Gadolin (top left) and Werner Gadolin (bottom right). Separating the two are a pair of red armlets, streaks of dried blood overlaid on top of them. The text, when translated into English, reads, “God Eater 3 Character Novel | Chapter 5: Hilda Edition | In the Name of the White Flower”. /end id]

This is a fan translation. Original text here.

Masterpost 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9

Finally, using existing satellite bases as footholds, a new safe haven for humanity was born.

"To be a beacon of hope even amidst an invisible sea of ash."

With this wish in mind, the bases came to be known as "Ports".

As more and more Ports were built, those who had lost their homes were gradually taken in and protected, but...

The chaos in various regions had still not subsided completely. Coupled with the sloppy and hasty transfer to Ports, much of the technology monopolized by Fenrir had leaked.

Those not accepted into Ports and forced to live in fear of death clung to a glimmer of hope, using leaked technology to carry out aptitude tests in poorly maintained environments.

These aptitude tests resulted in a large number of casualties among the civilian population. At the same time, the growing number of unregulated God Eaters not under Gleipnir's control started to cause problems.

To resolve the situation, it was necessary to establish the development of AGEs as soon as possible.

However, even the second-generation AGE aptitude test targeting children had failed to produce stable results over the long term.

Taking advantage of the increase in unregulated God Eaters, Gleipnir set a high reward for any information regarding AGE development and internal information on the Ashlands.

A combination of factors had led to an outbreak of child hunting across northern Europe with no end in sight.

The loss of so many lives slowly but surely clouded regular God Eaters' sense of value for life.

But still.

Even now, finally, people could grasp hope.

After repeated second-generation experiments, we succeeded in developing the "P53-c Bias Factor", adjusted for use in the Ashlands.

Regular God Eaters, who had only been able to sit on their hands thus far, could now operate within the Ashlands.

The AGEs who had survived early aptitude tests had improved their skills as soldiers. Gleipnir could finally organize a unit tasked with conquering the Ashlands.

The "Anti-Ashland Armored Wall" developed during research into adaptive bias factor.

This was used in the construction of mobile fortresses called "Ash Crawlers".

The "Resonance Radar" was the culmination of Oracle communication technology perfected by my father.

With all preparations complete, Gleipnir announced the execution of the "First Ashlands Conquest Operation".

As Gleipnir's primary base of operations, Port Arrowhead continued undergoing expansion.

It was there that I now stood.

"Werner..."

Just before the operation began, I rushed to my lover.

Having been administered with P53-c bias factor, the one taking command of the Ashlands Conquest Operation was none other than him.

"Hilda... You came to see me off..."

It had been a long time since we last spoke like this.

Since the incident where the children from the facility had been forced to take the AGE aptitude test, we had gradually begun to see each other less and less.

"...How are the children in your care? Are they alright?"

"...Yes, thanks to you."

I now lived in a shelter where I took in orphans, including Amy, as well as children too young to take the AGE aptitude test.

Perhaps because Werner had helped arrange things, no one had come to ask me to hand them over.

Amy, almost as if in imitation of Iris, had begun to look out for the younger children. Her speech was also showing signs of improvement, little by little.

"They are precious lives that will live on into the future. With you, I am certain they will grow up happy and healthy."

Werner smiled gently, as though his words had come from the bottom of his heart.

"Werner, please be careful..."

"Of course. I'll make sure this operation is a success, and that they remember the AGEs we fight alongside are the true hope that will lead humanity. They aren't to be taken lightly."

Werner clenched his fists as he spoke, a fiery look in his eyes.

The operation would be broadcasted live. It was widely reported that the AGEs taking part in this battle were new heroes born out of countless sacrifices.

If this operation was successful, the treatment of AGEs would undoubtedly improve.

"Finally... The day of atonement has finally arrived. With this operation, I will set everything right."

"So then, you still..."

To repay the children who died...

"...It's time. Please wait for me, Hilda. I'll take everything back."

Werner's hand was on my shoulder as he spoke. Then he set off, his footsteps heavy.

I could only stare at his back as it receded into the distance.

The large fleet departed, heading for Fenrir HQ, swallowed up by the Ashlands.

My feet carried me to Governor-General Gadolin.

"Hilda..."

The control room was filled with countless large monitors.

Though it wasn't perfect, you could get a good look at the battlefield from here.

"Governor-General, I know this is a selfish request, but..."

"Are you prepared to see your loved ones on the battlefield?"

As the governor-general spoke, I couldn't help but clench my fists.

As if I'd ever wish to see such a sight.

But this was as close as I could be to him as he fought under an enormous pressure he couldn't hope to bear.

I leveled a determined gaze toward the governor-general.

"...I see. Very well. You may stay."

Was it just my imagination, or was his face tinged with an unfathomable sadness?

The operation had begun.

The route of the Ash Crawlers was cleared by the resonance radar.

Beacons were placed at safe relay points.

Sighs of admiration were exhaled as AGEs, red armlets shining on both arms, sliced through Aragami with such skill that it was hard to remember they were children.

Werner, leading the young heroes in their charge, seemed quite spirited as well, even through the monitor.

Without a doubt, Werner had been eagerly anticipating this bout.

He must have staked everything he had on this day.

The regular God Eaters seemed fired up as well, returning to combat for the first time after so long.

After so many sacrifices, God Eaters had once again united in the Ashlands.

One of the monitors showed people outside watching the live broadcast with bated breath.

The return of their heroes brought cheers from the spectators.

For a single moment, everyone shared a sense of unity, soaring through despair as they sought the same hope.

Then it happened.

"...! We're getting abnormal readings from the AGEs' vital signs! What is this...?"

The monitor showing the troops marching to the front lines detected something unusual.

"The AGEs' Oracle Cells are becoming extremely activated! These numbers... They're far greater than the armlets' control capabilities! What... It's spreading!"

In the chaotic control room, a single AGE was displayed on the monitors.

As their scream pierced the air that had been filled with hope, both of their armlets shattered.

The AGE's body was devoured by Oracle Cells from the inside out. In the blink of an eye, they transformed into something grotesque, letting out a terrifying roar.

Two, three... like ripples on a pond, the AGEs transformed into Aragami one after another and began running wild.

"All of the deployed AGEs are going berserk! All Ash Crawlers, cease operations immediately! If this continues...!"

I couldn't move a single muscle as the tragedy unfolded on the other side of the screen.

The AGEs that had undergone Aragami transformation had taken on an eerie appearance, shaped by the resentment of discarded children. With a ferociousness that could only be described as vengeful, they advanced on the regular God Eaters.

Within a matter of minutes, the entire unit was wiped out.

"...Werner?"

"Communications lost; status unknown!"

Fresh blood and a system error. The large monitors were all dyed a brilliant red.

The control room was filled with nothing but alarms and warning sounds. A great despair took hold.

"No..."

None of us could accept the reality before our eyes.

"...You can't be serious."

One of the regular God Eaters watching the broadcast spoke.

"This is supposed to be the hope of humanity? This is what so many of our comrades died to create?!"

"No... There's no way all our efforts produced monsters like this!"

Voices filled with doubt and hatred spread through the people, all directed toward AGEs.

The hearts of those who had been filled with hope just a few minutes ago.

They had taken on an ugly hue.

"...Father, can you hear me?"

At that moment, a heavy voice echoed through the control room.

Governor-General Gadolin, who had been silent up until this point, rose to his feet, as though being pulled by strings.

"I'm alive... All the rampaging AGEs... have been dealt with."

I gasped as the full weight of his words hit me.

The video feed still displayed nothing, but a voice that seemed to echo from the depths of hell continued to explain the situation with an eerie calm.

"My ship is still operational. I'll follow the beacons and return."

"Werner!"

I couldn't help but shout his name.

But he didn't respond.

After a silence that seemed to last for an eternity, communications were cut off.

A few hours later, a half-destroyed Ash Crawler returned to Arrowhead.

Werner, completely changed, descended from the ship alone.

His uniform was completely stained with blood. A cross-shaped wound marred his face. The fiery red of his hair was now mixed with the color of ash.

And finally, an additional red armlet adorned his left arm.

"...Welcome back, Werner."

Governor-General Gadolin was the first to greet Werner.

No other voices welcomed the hero's return, however.

Voices of accusation—laying blame for this historic defeat—echoed instead.

"...Enough."

Werner's voice, commanding as it was, was lost in the desolate rage.

"Werner... Did you take the AGE aptitude test?"

"...The only way to stop the transformed AGEs was to use their own God Arcs to slay them. ...Without the adaptive bias factor, there would have been no way for me to wield them all safely."

Werner's voice was horse as he spoke. As I listened, a trickle of tears rolled down my cheeks.

He had wished to save the AGEs more than anyone else.

And yet, to slay those very same AGEs, transformed into Aragami, he had been forced to become an AGE himself.

"Father, please... Put an end to this cycle that twists people's hearts."

Father and son locked gazes. An unyielding silence ensued.

Then—

"...My path won't change, Werner."

Hearing his father's words, Werner quietly closed his eyes.

"...In that case, I want nothing more to do with you."

As though he had reached his limit, Werner collapsed to the ground and lost consciousness.

I followed closely as he was carried away by the medics.

Only the governor-general remained, standing alone in the center of endless vitriol.

The cause of the AGEs going berserk was a lack of control on the part of the armlets.

The Oracle Cells of the AGEs, who possessed stronger combat and resonance abilities than previous God Eaters, had been activated beyond expectation by prolonged fighting within the Ashlands.

It was believed that the armlets' control had been disrupted, and the Oracle anomaly was transmitted through the Ashlands, causing a chain reaction.

In response to these results, an enhanced armlet was quickly developed. Aptitude tests for third-generation AGEs using paired armlets began in various locations.

The new armlets were fitted with a function meant to restrain AGEs, similar to handcuffs. Apparently, this had been a top priority.

In Ports all over the region, the treatment of AGEs had become harsher than ever. The utopia we had envisioned had become a prison, where children were sent off to a hell known as the Ashlands, and more were built every day.

"...How did you know I'd be here?"

When I received the news that Werner, who had been asleep and not allowed visitors, had woken up, I headed here instead of his hospital room.

A hangar lined with Ash Crawlers.

He'd come at midnight, under the light of the green moon, just as the guards had finished their rounds.

"...Are you leaving?"

I had known he would.

As long as he resided within a Port, his wish would never come true.

I had come here determined to stop him, no matter what.

But when I saw him standing before me, my resolve wavered.

Wounded and worn, yet there was still a flicker of obsessive fire in his eyes.

Only within such flames would he be able to forgive himself.

"...How ironic. The happiness we spoke of that day... I never thought this would be the true form of our utopia."

Werner looked down and muttered to himself in a scathing tone.

I didn't want him to leave.

I wanted to cling to him, beg him to stay by my side.

But then I realized how much that would hurt him.

If I took his hand, one of us would have to abandon our wish.

Werner met my gaze, his eyes filled with countless emotions.

Because we knew each other deeply. Because we respected each other more than anyone else.

Neither of us could close the distance.

After a long, long silence, both of us trying to clamp down on our hearts.

I slowly looked away from Werner.

"I'm sorry..."

His back receded into the distance.

The remains of our dream disappeared into the ashes of this burnt-out world.

I was certain I would regret this moment for the rest of my life.

Even so... I had to accept it.

Perhaps this was my punishment for being unable to do anything.

Around dawn, I finally returned to my room.

Inside, Amy and the children were sleeping, huddled together.

I was relieved. I didn't want the children to see my face right now.

Exhausted, I sat down in a corner of the room.

Only now did I realize how much their presence had saved my heart.

Everything... Everything was gone.

All I had left was my own sense of helplessness.

Even the sleeping faces of the children, who kept my fraying heart from unraveling completely, now seemed to bring about anxiety for the days to come.

I had no idea how to protect them from people's hatred.

My burnt-out dream had crumbled to ashes within me. Would I ever be able to bring smiles to these children's faces again?

Just as I felt my empty heart would be crushed by the weight of reality—

Suddenly, my eyes landed on Amy's sketchbook.

Although she was slowly regaining her ability to speak, her sketchbook was still an important part of her, helping her express her thoughts and feelings. Normally, I tried to avoid touching it as much as possible.

But right now, even if only for a moment.

I wanted to touch someone's heart.

"...!"

The moment I opened it, I saw Iris's gentle smile as she reached her hand out to me.

Was this Amy's memory of her first day at the facility?

Every detail was carefully and meticulously drawn.

The children who had lived in the facility.

It depicted fragments of memories that I had forgotten without even realizing.

Amy must have understood what the children were going through right now.

The drawings were filled with dreamlike scenes, overflowing with kindness.

I turned to the last page. There, I found—

"Amy..."

Me, Werner, Iris, and the other children.

The picture showed our smiling faces surrounded by blooming white flowers.

It depicted the utopia I had once envisioned.

The dream entrusted to this child by her family still lived on in her heart.

That dream was surely being conveyed to the sleeping children huddled together.

Nothing was lost. The dream I shared with my family was still here.

"Please... Don't give up."

An encouraging voice filled my mind. I could feel the warmth of a promise coming back to life in the palm of my hand.

If I gave up now.

Those irreplaceable days. The smiles of those who saw hope within our dream. All of it would be lost.

I couldn't let that happen. I would never let it happen.

"I...!"

On my own feet. By my own will. I would stand up with my own strength.

I felt a small flower sprout within my ashen heart.

[possiblylando]

Chainsaw Man Chapter 122 "Early" analyses. [Also the Nostradamus Prophecy]

So this chapter leaked last week on I think it was Bilibili and I read it then. But holy shit was the translations SHIT AS FUCK!! Like actually awful. So I held off on reading it until now. So 122 has a lot going on. This chapter feels like it has information missing in translation. which is why I was gonna read both the Viz and TCB Releases for it. But they where both identical so- Shit. [The Analyses Begins] This chapter starts off with an interesting revalation. Not so much about Yoshida knowing about the Famine Devil but that Yoshida invited her to lunch at the same café he took Denji to near the beginning of part 2. While he completely blew Asa off. What this tells me is 1. Yoshida doesn't know about Asa/Yoru, Or at least public safety doesn't know about them. 2. Yoshida's treatment of Denji was because he's Chainsaw Man, Not directly because of any special feelings towards him.

Then we get this bomb shell dropped.

The Nostradamus prophecy is a real thing. It was made in the 1500s by Michael Nostradamus. However the thing is he also made 950 other prophecies. Safe to say not many of them came true. The actual prophecy goes as such:

The year one thousand nine ninety-nine seven month

From the sky shall come a great King of terror,

[Shall be] revived the great King of Angoulmois.

Before and after, Mars [shall] reign as chance will have it. From the brief research on this prophecy the common belief seems to be that this was predicting a Mongolian invasion. The king of the Mongols being akin to the antichrist. However I doubt that Fujimoto is going to have the final villain of this arc be the king of the Mongols. So I will choose to ignore that. As for Mars I'm not quite sure but it could mean the Roman God Mars, Who was the god of war. Believe this to be a line about war would align with the idea of this being a Mongolian Invasion. In which it would mean a War between Devils and Humans. Let's reinterpret this through the lens of chainsaw man. July, 1999. The king of terror will descend from the sky. The King shall be revived Before and after, War will reign under these Circumstances. Something like that (Maybe). As to what this could actually mean, I think the King of Terror in question is Death.

From what Famine says this is what we know of this new devil: 1. First of the devils who will Shepard the world to the ultimate Terror 2. Primal Fear The first part is rather easy because this is more than likely a horseman of the apocalypse. Since we already know the whereabouts of Conquest (Control), Famine, And War that leaves two possible Horsemen still unaccounted for. There are a few sperate interpretations of the horsemen of the apocalypse depending on which scripture you're reading. conquest, war, famine and death Are the most common ones. However in the book of Ezekial the horseman are as follows:

sword, famine, wild beasts and pestilence (Or Plague depending on translation) While I doubt that Sword and Wild Beasts will be the final horsemen, Pestilence/Plague has a decent chance of coming to light. Due to the fact it's fairly common to see Pestilence being apart of the modern horsemen. So this is my prediction as to what we're dealing with. War, Control, Famine, Plague (Or Pestilence) as lead by Death. The root of all fear is death. As proved by Vsauce that one time. But this still brings up a problem. What the fuck is this thing?

Everyone seems to think this is the Death Devil but honestly I doubt it. At least not it's actual physical form. This is a puppet being controlled by something else. We can see it form from the bodies of it's victims in the earlier panels.

I feel like a fraud for not having some big conclusion at the end of this but I really don't have one. I don't fucking know what this new devil is. It could be the death devil, It could be the plague devil, It could even be the corpse devil, I really can't fucking tell. I'll finish this off with a prediction as to how chainsaw man will end. The Nostradamus Prophecy will come to pass. Humans won't be completely eradicated as Devils need them to be afraid for them to have power. We're entering into the Chainsaw Man war arc. If Denji and Asa are unable to overcome the odds then the world will probably end right as the date switches over to the 2000s. This fucking chapter gives us so much to question and not a single answer we couldn't have already inferred. GREAGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH Uhhh My friends pointed out: -"I think the death devil would be more scary" (Paraphrasing, As to why this might not be the death devil) -"Fami eats so much because she's the Famine Devil" (Genius)

[sidhewrites]

26 and 27! We've reached the end!!

Since the ending is (Currently) so short, let's end the year with a double feature. Shout out to @serenanymph you have been half the reason I could finish this dang thing, and I am looking forward to seeing your thoughts on draft two if it's ever done!

Project Info

Previous Chapter

Start from the beginning

It's a fight to get my body away from the corridor. They tie me up with anything at hand -- Josie's jacket, the pendulum chain, and a length of ancient moldering rope. I can only hope it holds as I do my best to keep my body still. Magnus still writhes and flails, managing to sock Josie in the jaw and tear at Lucy's veil.

If he rips it, I'll tear his head off.

They manage to get me bound to one of the old wooden support beams. I don't know how much I trust it, but if I had to choose, I'd rather die being crushed by a beam of wood surrounded by people I love than alone at the bottom of a mine shaft.

“What do we do?” Lucy asks. 

“I don’t know. We, uh…” Josie gestures, grasping for words. “We need…we need an exorcism. 

“He’s not a demon — will that work?”

She falters.

[Magnus insults them]

“You're already here, Magnus,” I pant. “Why do you still need me?” I don’t want to give him what he wants, but I’ll do it if it means I get to go home. I get to live.

[Establish that he can't extract himself from her. He needs a new body a la the one they tried to make earlier]

He considers the idea for just a second, before wrenching my body to the side. It does nothing but give me rope burn as he snarls, "[Fuck no, idiots.]"

"We need to get him a replacement," Josie says. "Something else to possess."

Lucy hesitates. "That didn't do so well last time."

"We didn't have something solid. We just tried to throw him back into the ground. This time..." She trails off, thinking.

I look at them, unable to get my mouth to form the words what can we use? My body is so tired, but Magnus is determined not to let me go. His anger quashes me down, and it feels almost like I'm losing myself as he get larger and larger in my head.

"I have an idea, but..." Josie looks towards the far end of the corridor, back to the entrance. Back to the surface, and to light.

Don't go, I want to beg.

Lucy nods. "Go."

Don't leave me.

"We'll be right here."

But there's nothing for it. Josie stops to look at me in my sorry state. She swallows hard and brushes my hair behind my ears. "I'll be right back. I promise."

I don't want to be in the dark.

And so she goes. The light goes with her, fading slowly, and then all at once as she turns the corner.

It's dark. It's so dark, and so cold. The stagnant air sits heavy in my lungs, stale and moldy and dead. No matter how hard I strain my eyes, there's nothing to see.

My fear is enough to overpower Magnus, just for a moment. "Please..."

He snaps my jaw shut again, biting hard on my tongue. A low whine escapes my throat -- and a cold hand touches my cheek.

I flinch. Someone is here with me, in the dark. Someone dead. I picture the spirits of the miners leaking out through the stone, surrounding me and closing in. I don't know what they'd do -- what they could do -- but I don't want to find out.

A low moan escapes my throat, and I try to wriggle away from the imagined mob surrounding me. I can almost see them, dark forms in the darker tunnel, picks and hammers in hand, eyes boring into me.

But the voice that speaks is no miner. It's delicate and comforting, a gentle brush of sound in the silence. "It's me, Kaz" Lucy says. "It's just me." She touches my face again, solid if unsubstantial.

I want to weep, but Magnus speaks instead. "Don't touch me, girl," he spits, and turns my head to bite her hand.

She pulls away quickly enough, and I hear a rustle of skirts as she shifts her weight. "It's all right, Kaz. I'm not going anywhere."

It's dark, I try to say, even as Magnus rattles off another string of insults.

Lucy shifts again in the dark, sitting down next to the chair. She reaches up, and laces her fingers through mine, even as Magnus tries to wrench my hand away. The ropes hold steady enough, and he seethes inside my head, a hot, oily anger.

But it's bearable, if only just, as Lucy starts to talk. She fills the darkness with sound, touching on anything and everything. How AC electricity works. The TV shows she heard about over the years in disjointed overheard conversations, and the misunderstandings that arose because of it. She talked about the moon landing, and the first portable radio she'd ever seen. It seemed it didn't matter what she talked about, so long as she kept talking. So long as I was not alone in the dark.

An hour passed this way. Two. Lucy held my hand and wore herself out talking. I felt her starting to slip, her already unsubstantial hand losing its corporeal presence. But it stayed there. She stayed there, until Josie came back.

A faint tapping echoed down the tunnel, the slapping of feet on the stone slowly growing closer. Then, the light, faint at first and then getting brighter as Josie rounded the corner, flushed and out of breath with something clutched in her hands.

"I'm sorry," she panted as she got closer. "I had to find the store keys, but I got it." She held up one of the many creepy dolls from the Antique Mall. It was a yellowed cloth doll, likely handmade with a spare bit of cloth fashioned into a little dress. Its button eyes gleamed in the harsh flashlight, and, even now, it felt like it had a certain awareness to it. A certain maliciousness. Granted, that's almost certainly because it's just a creepy old doll, but that didn't undo the shiver of discomfort that ran down my spine, at which Magnus took a sick glee.

"A doll?" Lucy asks.

"A poppet." Josie fights for breath, setting things on the ground. She has two flashlights now -- small but far more durable than my phone, long lost to the dark, and with a warmer, more comforting glow. "My boss says when it was first donated, it had pins stuck in it. She claims it was just used as a pincushion, but -- I mean, it doesn't matter. Look. Magnus, look at this.

He moves my chin up to look Josie in the eye as she presents the poppet. "What idiocy is this now?" My voice comes out raw, tired from the hours of stress.

"Let Kaz go. Leave, and haunt this instead."

"And then what? You'll put me on display for the world to gawk at?"

"We'll throw it down the elevator shaft, okay? So you still get everything you want, and we all get to go home."

"I don't think so."

"Well, I tried to be nice about it."

And with that, she gets to work. I've never been so proud of Josie, refusing to apologize for making someone angry. I could hug her if I wasn't both tied up and possessed by an omnicidal madman.

I nearly weep with joy as she brings supplies out of her bag. She always over prepares -- or maybe she brought exactly what's needed for whatever ritual is about to take place. I don't know. Still, Magnus keeps my gaze trained on her, and we watch as she lights four candles around me and pulls out a bag of salt, which she uses to connect the candles in a ring. Before closing it, she gestures. "Lucy, you have to step away."

She tightens her grip on my hand. "Absolutely not."

After a moment's hesitation, she steps back. "I'll give you a few more minutes, then you have to let go. I barely know if this will work, and I don't want to risk someone else in there with her." Then, she draws a symbol in chalk on the ground, referencing a photo on her phone before placing the doll in the center. Carefully, she brings out a knife and cuts into the meat of her palm, just enough to draw blood, and lets it drip onto the doll. She checks her phone again, referencing something in her notes app this time, before sighing.

"I'm sorry in advance, Kaz."

Magnus's fear rolls inside me, and I nearly throw up as she approaches, but she doesn't do anything too bad. Just rips off a bloody bit of my shirt, and steps back. She's right though -- I loved that shirt. It had a frilly, lacy collar, and it made me feel sexy and mysterious.

But, I mean, I guess I'd rather lose a shirt than my life.

Josie wrings the fabric over the poppet, and a few drops of my own blood mixed with dirt fall onto the fabric, staining it further. Gross.

Now comes the last person. Josie looks up at Lucy, shoulders dropping. "I'm sorry, but..."

Lucy understands. She hesitates, then moves to her knees. "Hold on, Kaz. It's almost over." She puts her hands on either side of my face and presses a kiss to my sweaty forehead, even as Magnus curses at her again.

Finally, with one last squeeze, Lucy lets me go, and steps outside of the salt lines. 

Josie closes the circle. She and Lucy kneel down one last time, and Josie hands the knife over. Lucy hesitates a long moment, unsure if this would even work.

You can do it, I think at her as loud as I can. I try not to think about what would happen if she can't.

I don't know if she can read my mind -- probably not -- but I tell myself it works anyway, because, after a second, she reaches out, and places her hand over the handle of the blade.

Josie lets go. The knife doesn't fall.

Lucy lets out an airless breath of relief, and holds it up to her hand. When she cuts it, however, there's no blood, nor anything even vaguely resembling body fluids.

"Uh."

I feel the same way.

"Is there another option?"

"The ritual called for body. That usually means blood, but..." She presses her lips together. "Maybe we can try something else? Maybe you can spit on it?"

If I wasn't suffering, I would laugh at how offended Lucy looks at the very idea.

But she does. She takes one miserable glance at me, swallows her dignity, and bends over the doll. I can't help but admire her willingness to do something gross to save my life. She's earned at least fifty coffee dates -- or whatever the ghost equivalent is -- for that alone.

Lucy says a few words, presses one hand over her heart and the other over the doll. Nothing especially witchy happens, but we have no choice but to believe the ritual is complete, because we're out of options unless Josie suddenly feels comfortable luring a complete stranger into a deadly mine shaft.

Instead, she stands up, closes the salt circle, and places the poppet between my feet.

"Okay. Kaz, you ready?"

Magnus doesn't let my say anything. He doesn't trust this plan. I do my best to exude feelings of confidence. Josie has never been the type to have ulterior motives. She would never lie, not about this. Not about me. We're still friends despite everything, and neither of us wants the other to get hurt.

The silence drags on just long enough for Josie to nod and pull the last thing out of her bag -- an old, leather-bound book. I regonised it instantly -- her grimoire bought off the internet years ago. She'd spent years adding spells to it, pressing flowers, adding recipes. I could only hope something in there was the right ritual.

She flipped through the pages, brow furrowed, with Lucy hovering over her shoulder. With a deep, bracing breath, she starts to read aloud.

[Chanting?]

Something's definitely happening. A strange tingling sparks in my chest -- something sharp and uncomfortable, slowly spreading outwards. It feels like pins and needles -- like my whole body is falling asleep. But the sensation grows stronger, and more painful as it spreads. Before too long, my every nerve is on fire as Magnus's soul is pulled away from mine. He can't help but let a long, low moan of pain rip from my throat. It's like my body is being torn in two, his soul being forcibly untangled from mine.

"Is this supposed to happen?" Lucy asks.

Josie doesn't answer. She just keeps reading.

The groan rises as the pain worsens, and Magnus thrashes to the side, knocking my body over. Another scrape opens up on my chin, but it doesn't hold a candle to the burning  in my bones, tracing through every vein and artery, setting a fire in my brain.

"You're killing her!" he taunts with a vicious laugh. "You're killing her and you don't care. Get rid of me and she goes too!"

Josie hesitates. She looks up, mouth hanging open.

No-- I try to say. It's working. Don't stop yet. It's working. I can't get my mouth to work. His anger is too great, and it's pushed me into a small corner of my mind, barely able to do anything but look out my own eyes, desperately hoping that Josie will somehow understand. I'm still here. I'm still here.

I don't know if it works, but she starts reading again all the same, reading down the page and starting over again.

[Transtion.]

I don't know if Magnus is the one yelling now, or if I am. I'm being split in two. I'm being torn apart, atom by atom, as his soul is ripped away from mine.

Something inside me snaps.

All the candles go out. And then I faint, too.

Twenty-Seven

When I come to, it seems to be only a few seconds later, judging by how much my head still hurts from banging it on the ground. I blink in the near darkness, trying to make sense of the figure looming above me. It’s a pale face surrounded by shadow, with delicate features and red eyes. Like they’ve been crying. 

“Lucy…?” I ask.

"Kaz? Kaz is that you?"

I groan. My head hurts. "Jesus fuck..."

“Oh, Kaz!" Thank the Lord you’re all right!” She cries and wraps her arms around me, holding me close. They’re as delicate as the rest of her — and solid, I realize. She feels completely solid.

“Lucy?” I ask again, more concerned with this new discovery than any potential concussion. “You’re holding me.”

“Ah…?” She sits upright, apparently as surprised as I am about this new development. “It would seem with the veil being as thin as it is…?” She begins, but can’t quite find the words before her eyes fill with tears again. “Kaz, I thought he killed you!”

“No. I’m okay.” I’m in so much pain. “I’m okay.” 

Someone clears their throat. A cat chirps in response. Lucy and I both look over to see Josie holding both Renfield and the creepy pilgrim doll, whose eyes seem to rove around in their own now.

“I’m sorry to interrupt, but this can’t wait for much longer. We have to fulfill our end of the deal.”

“Right. Uh.” 

Lucy helps me to my feet, and I discover a host of bruises that are going to seriously suck in the next few days. But any thought of the pain is secondary to the fact that she doesn’t let go of my arm. Her hands are cold to the touch but solid as the stone beneath my feet. I can barely focus on putting one foot in front of the other as we start to move, heading deeper into the tunnel. 

I feel Magnus’ eyes on me, even if I can’t see them. Josie holds the flashlight high, but the doll is backlit in a way that seems to blot out all ambient light and it makes me think of the sliminess of his consciousness rooting around in my brain. Or his soul fighting mine. Whatever.

The doll falls down, past the edge of our light. I imagine a quiet little sound as it lands, leaving Magnus trapped there in that little body for eternity.

“Hope there’s some restless miners down there with him,” I say.

“Maybe he’ll regret the isolation in a year or two,” Lucy Suggests. “And then, perhaps, he will slowly go mad in the dark.”

It’s the meanest thing Lucy has ever said. I can’t help the smile flickering across my aching face.

“Well, whatever happens.” I sigh heavily, and hold up my middle finger. “Fuck him.”

“Fuck him,” Josie agrees.

“Fuck him,” Lucy says.

Holy shit. I think I might actually love her.  

We reach a drop off some time later and toss him down and exit and it’s dawn and kaz kisses lucy before she becomes incorporeal again in the light and also her hair is all white now. It had slowly been growing out and her roots were showing through in all this mess and now it’s colorless. 

A pink slash of sky peeks over the horizon, and I frown. I'm not ready to be alone yet. I'm not ready for Lucy to go.

Soft fingers reach up and brush grime off my cheek. I flinch from the icy touch, but turn to see just how close Lucy's gotten. "Your hair..." she says, a crease forming between her brows as she brushes a lock out of my face.

"What...?" I start, but then I see it in the dim light. The bleached ends are paler than usual, but the rest of my hair is just as white.

"It's like you've lost all color."

"Is it bad?"

"No," she says, and smiles. "You're beautiful."

And even though I'm covered in gunk and sweat, she leans in for a delicate, soul-shattering kiss.

Tag List

@adaughterofathena

@ambreeskyewriting

@carnelianflames

@feather-dancer

@halfbloodlycan

@nadunacreates

@serenanymph

@vigilantdesert

[inkykeiji]

SPOILERS FOR THE LEAKS in my ask

.

.

.

Clari did you see the new reveal about Dabi’s quirk. I’m fucking dying. Screaming, crying, throwing up.

He was always perfect :,(

But we already knew that

bnha manga spoilers

i did, kind of! i honestly try not to look too far into them & make assumptions until i can read the whole chapter for myself (because sometimes i find the leaks summaries are misleading or poorly explained) so i’m not 100% sure how i feel about this! i have a lot of questions. for example, based on the summary we got, it says that new abilities are awoken only close to death. so how far, theoretically, would enji had had to push touya to get this to manifest/show up/come out of him? would he had to push him to the brink of death to get it? why didn’t it show up when touya was 13 and nearly burned to death? or did it show up then at age 13, somehow, and dabi’s just been conveniently hiding it until now? additionally, does this actually have any impact on neutralizing his flames and the fact that his body was not built for them? does it help in that aspect? can it help in that aspect? many many maaaany questions.

i said this last night in my little rant/vent post but if dabi ends up living i will be thoroughly and immensely disappointed. as much as i love dabi with every fiber of my being and my whole entire heart, and as much as i wish there was a way for him to continue living, him having a well written and impactful ending to his story matters more to me and it’s what he deserves as a character. he deserves a GOOD ending. dabi surviving this makes absolutely zero sense and would be such a horrid ending for his story as a whole, especially considering the fact that, logically, if he were to live the only place he’d end up is jail for life; he can’t claim insanity, not when they have a video of him fully and lucidly explaining and admitting to his crimes. he knew exactly what he was doing all along, obv. letting him off with a slap on the wrist because he has ~trauma~ (aw, boohoo, so do i and i don’t murder innocents) and is the number one hero’s son is so fucking stupid, not to mention extremely unfair and goes against pretty much all of dabi’s beliefs (false heroes, heroes being treated differently etc).

anyway sorry i went off on a tangent there HAHA i could write u an entire essay on why i think dabi’s end should be his (and enji’s!) death so i tried to keep it brief while still explaining myself properly but!! honestly, i’m extremely critical when it comes to dabi’s character arc/story, and him not getting the well written, heart wrenching ending he deserves has been a heavy fear of mine preeeetty much since i picked up this series.

in sum: not sure how i feel about the sudden ice quirk thing, trying not to overreact or make any serious judgements until this whole bit of the story has played out. trying v hard to have faith and trust in hori and his skills as a storyteller because i know he has the capacity to make this phenomenal and i hope to whatever god is out there that it doesn’t get fucked up by fan service.

[dedskul]

Move On

Anger

Fear

Hurt

Shock

Anxiety gripping my brain

The need for something stronger than a cigarette

The need to feel safe

The need for something familiar

I tried to keep it cool

Keep it all underneath the persona you had made for me

But it started to leak out

And you took heavy notice

We left the venue early

Didn't even say goodbye

went back to the hotel

Where it all started to come apart

I sat alone

The bed opposite yours in the shared room

A one sided interrogation that always started with

What's wrong?

Its hard to ask questions to a brick wall

So you stopped

Took a break

Went into the bathroom

And came out as a different person

A red satin nightgown that barely covered your hips

A pluminting neckline

A cloud of freshly applied perfume

I don't know if my heart stopped

Or if it was beating so loud it was echoing off the walls

But either way you heard it

You were quite first

Soft

Your fingertips gliding over metal chains that bit into my hips

Whispers of love, care, and compassion the only sound in the room

The fear of rejection keeping my mouth glued shut

I tired to wait it out

I couldn't let you get to me

Open me up

See the truth

My feelings for you were buried deep but had been slowly leaking out in places that it shouldn't

Reaching for your hand in public

Prolonged eye contact during meetings

The feeling of my heart sinking into my stomach every time you locked your office door

I'd been trying to hide it

Ignore it

Push it away

There was no way that you'd have the same feelings for me

I was sick

Lost

Too young

Too rowdy

Too crazy

But I was there

I was present in the moment

Each second ticking by felt like hours

My refection in the hotel window staring back at me

Watching as you held me in your arms and begged me for an explanation

Why was I so nervous?

So removed

I hadn't slept at all the last two nights

I had stared at the celling and listened to your soft snoring for hours

Trying to wrap my head around the fact that you trusted me enough to fall asleep in the same room as me

How had I made that happen?

Less than a year ago you wouldn't even sit alone in your office with me

The open door rule took literally

Ever time I spoke to you it was only in whispers

Praying that our supervisor wasn't paying that much attention

But now things were different

So different in fact that I struggled seeing you in this new light

You were just a person

A person who practiced her speeches in the shower

A person who paced back and forth while she was thinking

A person who anxiously bit her nails and clenched her jaw while composing emails

A person who loved me and wanted answers to questions that had long passed me by

My impending doom was clashing around so loud in my head I couldn't hear you anymore

I could only feel you

Your hands gripping tight around my waist

Your head resting my shoulder

Your tears splashing down my collarbone

Your tears?

Crying

I had do something

Say something

Anything

I opened my mouth to speak and it just all fell out

You watched me and smiled

Not a happy smile, but a knowing one

A smile that said you'd read between the lines and saw the real, unfiltered truth

I was in love with you

I had romantic feelings for you

I'd been barking on bar stools at women a decade or more older than me since the second I turned 18

Trying to find comfort

Trying to find someone like you

And failing

I was mad

The anger that you'd been able to read me so easily fulling me to stand and start pacing laps of the room

But you still wanted more

Apparently I'd been nothing but an open book the whole time

A book written in a language that only you knew how to translate

A book that read I was hiding more in the darker un-touched chapters

But I was done

In a latch ditch effort to get you back under my control I rushed you and was taken by surprised when you kicked me in the leg and took me to the ground your arms holding my hands behind my back

I was keeling on the floor

Your body weight on top of me, trying to keep me still

But I was persistent

Writhing back and forth in your arms attempting to escape

Screaming at you to let me go

And then it happened

Time stood still

Your hot breath on my neck as you pleaded with me to stop

I froze

And you thanked me for following direction

You said you wanted to try again

Do things differently this time

I agreed as you tilted my head to face you

Your lips millimeters away from mine you said the words :

“I need you to trust me, I love you and I want to prove it to you.”

The rest of that night plays in my head like a stop motion movie

Bits and pieces here and there

Stills of love

Passion

The puddle that was our old boundaries soaking in the sheets

And the remnants washed down the shower drain the next morning

The only prof the lingering sent of your perfume on my clothes and a hidden hickey on your chest

A conversation later that morning over coffee

The dirty little secret talk

“You can't tell anyone about this.”

“This could ruin my career.”

“My reputation is at stake.”

Of course it was

I held my hand to God and swore I wouldn't speak a word

And I didn't

But if actions really do speak louder than words I was screaming it at the top of my lungs

Prowling though bars, clubs, lounges for years

Keeping to the shadows

Hiding in the dark

Until the colored lights danced though my perpetually empty glass

And my drunken confidence had me spitting game to any blonde haired, blue eyed beauty that crossed my path

One of them would eventually make the mistake of taking me home and I'd close my eyes and live out the past

Then repeat the prosses over and over again

But now were here

In purgatory

Our bodies a decade older and rotting underneath the sheets

Forever doomed to play our parts

Just to get in separate beds across town and fall asleep in the arms of the people we choose while the other was away

It makes me sick

Dizzy

Waking up in the morning not remember who it is laying next to me

Whos legs are poking out of the unidentifiable lump of countless blankets?

Is it you?

My soon to be wife?

Or someone else?

They could be mine

It wouldn't be the first time my ghostly soul left my body

Trudging though daily life

Just to come home re-enter the decomposing corpse staining my bedsheets

I never toss the blankets up to check

I just move on

Move on

Move on

Move on

I'm still trying to move on

[yumiko-shigaraki]

Flames & Frost

What happens when two students with opposite quirks both strive to be the number 1 hero in all of Japan?

Cross posted to and AO3, rewritten version of chapter 1

Words: 2.2k

Main Pairing: Named OC/Dabi (Touya Todoroki)

Potential trigger/content warnings: teenagers are portrayed true to life which means some cringy actions/dialogue, use of social media, physical violence, potential spoilers for Tomura's backstory, Kotaro is his own warning, warnings will be edited chapter by chapter

Yūka opened the envelope with bated breath, her heart gently thumping against her ribs as she carefully pulled out the disc from within. She sat in front of her TV and put the disc in her DVD player. She hit play, and watched silently as the pro hero Present Mic popped up on screen. 

“Hellooooo, Yūka Shimura! I am pleased to announce you have been accepted into the hero course at UA highschool.” He held up his thumbs with a big grin, and Yūka’s eyes widened in excitement before hurrying to turn down her TV’s volume in case her dad was upstairs. “Here in a moment a list of school supplies will pop up on screen, you’ll need to get them within the next couple of weeks, and don’t forget to design a hero costume. The first couple days in class you’ll get some help from staff to help map it out more if you get stuck or don’t know where to start! I’m looking forward to seeing you on campus, peace out!” With that, a list of school supplies popped up on screen. Yūka grabbed her phone and texted the list to her mother.

Nao: What’s all this?

Yūka: School stuff :D I got accepted into UA!

Yūka then perked up more and switched to her Discord app, opening her chat with her boyfriend. He was offline at the moment, which was a little odd, but she knew he’d probably see her message soon anyways.

frostbite777: babe guess what

frostbite777: I got into the hero school I tried out for

endeavorfan021: oh really?? thats so cool! did u get into the hero course like u wanted or did they put u in support

frostbite777: hero course, so maybe when we graduate we can be one of those hero couples/duos yk

endeavorfan021: thatd be amazing, I bet we’d kick ass together

frostbite777: for sure <3

Yūka heard her dad calling her, and frowned a little before typing a quick goodbye message and tossing her phone on her bed, soon getting the disc from UA out of her DVD player and hiding it under her mattress. Once she was sure the evidence was hidden, she stood up and ran downstairs, jumping off the third step on her way down.

“Yūka, honey, I’m in the kitchen, come here please.” Kotaro called, stirring some sort of sauce in a skillet. Yūka could tell from his tone alone that he was upset about something, and she felt her stomach twist anxiously as she stepped into the room, walking over and standing beside Kotaro. 

“Yes?”

Kotaro looked down at Yūka and stopped stirring the sauce for a moment. “Your sister got into Shiketsu High. I’m surprised they let her in even after missing the first year.” He told her, disappointment and irritation leaking from his voice. “She’s going to become a hero. What do you think of that?” Yūka thought for a small moment before she furrowed her brows. She had learned by now how to react to news regarding heroes or hero students. Still, something inside of her told her to be honest about her feelings regarding the news.

“I don’t know.” She lied. She was happy for Hana, and a little jealous that she could be honest about her ambitions without fear of their father. She wished she lived with their mother full time too. Kotaro made a sour face at that, and clutched the metal cooking spoon a little harder in his hand.

“Do you still want to be a hero? I know you were moved up a grade last year, which means you or your mother has already chosen your highschool. So, which highschool are you going to? Don’t lie to me either.” That was a warning, and Yūka was smart enough to take a couple steps back before speaking. 

“I’m.. I’m going to UA. I’ve already gotten the acceptance letter.” Yūka could feel her hands start to tremble, but she steeled her nerves as she looked up at her father. She saw his face harden, and she mimicked his look. “I’m going to become a hero too. Since Tenko couldn’t.” That was when she felt the metal spoon strike her above the eye, right on the brow bone. He had angled it perfectly so the side hit her. She yelped and stepped back again, a throbbing pain in her face. She raised her hand and touched where the spoon hit, blood staining her fingers and dripping into her eye. She instinctively shut it to keep any more from coming in.

“Under no circumstances are you to attend that school, do you understand me? Your brother is dead and do you know who tried to help him? Not a damn soul, not even those heroes. If they did their jobs he would still be here. Your mother has already failed as a parent by allowing Hana to follow these delusions. I will not do the same. Tell your mother to withdraw you from that school, or you can find somewhere else to live.” Kotaro knew Nao wouldn’t withdraw Yūka if he were the one to ask, so it had to be her. He walked to the sink and washed the spoon, red mixing into the water as Yūka hurried out of the room and back upstairs.

She ran into the bathroom, and began cleaning the wound, though once it was evident it wasn’t going to stop on its own, she called her mother.

“Are you doing okay, baby? I seriously cannot believe your father.” Nao clutched the steering wheel hard enough that her knuckles went white. Hana was in the backseat with Yūka, rubbing her back and trying to cheer her up. Once Yūka had called Nao and told her what happened, Nao hightailed it to her house to pick her up. She had used to quirk to heal the wound and had gotten into a yelling match with Kotaro while the girls packed up everything of Yūka’s they could fit in the car. Which was nearly everything but her furniture, which they had decided to just leave at Kotaro’s, since her room at Nao’s was furnished as well.

“I’m fine mom. This just sucks.” She sighed and shook her head a little. “Now I have to take the train and stuff to school. I’m gonna have to get up so early.” She groaned, and leaned back against her seat, making Hana take her hand back. 

“Maybe we can see if you can be transferred to Shiketsu? You might have to take another entry exam or something though, since I think they do the entry exams differently than UA.”

“Hana, that’s a sweet thought, but your sister has had her heart set on UA since she was little. We’ll figure something out, Yūka. I might be able to drive you in the mornings before I go to work. For tonight let's just get some dinner and get you unpacked.”

—

As Yūka stepped into classroom 1A on time, she silently thanked the heavens that her mom offered to give her a ride. She hated public transportation, since everyone’s body heat together made her lightheaded and sweaty. She went to the desk in the far back corner, and watched other students pile in. She put her head down and got her phone out, figuring it would be alright as long as the teacher wasn’t in the room. 

frostbite777: I got to school on time today, my moms going to be able to give me rides to school

endeavorfan021: thats good! I just got to school, but I cant find my classroom for the life of me

frostbite777: are there any teachers nearby or smth

endeavorfan021: oh yea just found one, I gotta go tho I dont think were supposed to have our phones out 

endeavorfan021: love u bby Ill ttyl <3

frostbite777: love u 2 <3

Yūka sat back up and tucked her phone away in her Edgeshot themed backpack. She looked around and saw another handful of students enter, including a boy with a set of bright red wings on his back. She hummed a little, and watched as a plain looking boy with white hair sat beside her. He plopped down in his chair with a small grunt, and she looked away once he looked at her. She noticed the boy with wings was sitting in front of her and she perked up, her eyes focused on the red feathers. 

“Staring is rude, you know. Were you raised in a barn?” The boy beside her spoke, his arms crossed as he watched her. She looked back at him with a small blush on her face from embarrassment. 

“Oh, sorry. I just thought they looked cool.” Yūka frowned before perking up and sticking her hand out to him, her thumb tucked up against her palm to make sure she wouldn’t accidentally use her quirk on him. He looked at her hand a little funny, unsure why she was doing that with her thumb, but still, he reached over and shook her hand. “I’m Yūka Shimura.” She smiled at him, expecting him to echo her with his own name.

“I’m Touya Todoroki.” He told her, wiping his hand on his pants as he made a face at her. “Why are your hands so clammy and cold?” He shook his head a little, and looked back at her.

“Oh, I don’t know why they’re clammy,” She subconsciously wiped her hands on her skirt. “But they’re cold because of my quirk, which is why I tucked my thumb up against my hand.”

Touya nodded, and got ready to say something else before their teacher walked inside of the classroom and got the class to quiet down. Mr.Aizawa took attendance and went over the rules and expectations, and soon dismissed the class to go get their PE uniforms on in the locker rooms. 

In the locker room, one of the other girls bumped her hip into Yūka’s, it made her flinch a little and she looked at the other girl like a deer in headlights. The other girl was blonde and had magenta eyes. “Oh, sorry for bumping into you.” Yūka said, even though she wasn’t the one who did it. This made the other girl laugh.

“Girl I bumped you, you’re fine.” She smiled at Yūka, and she sheepishly smiled back. “The name is Yu Takeyama, I heard you talking to that Todoroki kid earlier. Do you know who he is?” Yu waited for Yūka’s answer with an excited grin.

“Uh– Endeavor’s son?” Yūka questioned as she pulled the white t-shirt over her head, adjusting the shirt and her bra before pulling on the jacket. Yu looked both surprised and irritated at her answer.

“And you aren’t completely excited that he talked to you? He’s a total hottie, plus he’s Endeavor’s son. He’s rich too!”

“He wasn’t that good looking, plus I have a boyfriend, so it’s not like it matters.” Yūka told her as the pair walked out of the locker room. 

“Ugh lame. More for me then.” Yu gently nudged Yūka. She looked over at the door to the boys’ locker room, and noticed Touya and the boy with the red feathers. “Have you met Hawks yet?”

Yūka looked a little confused before she looked over at the two boys, assuming the one with wings was Hawks. “Oh, no. I’ve only met you and Touya so far. Also, were we already supposed to have hero names ready or is that his real name?”

“I don’t know. When Mr.Aizawa took attendance he said Hawks, and in middle school that’s all anyone called him, so maybe that’s his real name. A little on the nose though, don’t you think?”

“Yeah, I guess. Should we go talk to them while the other students get their uniforms on?” Yūka tilted her head at Yu, who nodded and grabbed Yūka’s hand suddenly, and Yūka was barely able to bend one of her fingers out of the way in time. Maybe she should ask to have some gloves made for her uniforms.

“Hawks! Have you met my friend yet?” Yu grinned, letting go of Yūka’s hand and gesturing at her with a smile. 

Hawks perked up, stopping his bothering Touya for a second as he smiled. “No, I haven’t. What’s her name?” He asked, and Yu’s face dropped before she nervously laughed a little. Hawks rolled his eyes at that. “You don’t know yet, do you?”

“It’s Yūka Shimura.” Yūka laughed a bit as well, patting Yu’s shoulder reassuringly. Hawks smiled again at that.

“Shimura as in Nana Shimura? You’re related to her?”

Yūka looked surprised but nodded. “Yeah actually! She’s my grandma. I’m a little surprised you know her, that’s the first time anyone our age has made that connection.”

“Well, I’m glad to be the first.” Hawks held his hand out for her to shake.

“Careful, her hands are super clammy.” Touya chimed in, and Yūka huffed a little at that before she shook Hawks’ hand, being careful with her fingers of course.

“Oh they’re not that bad, Todoroki. I think you’re just dramatic.” That made Touya glare at him, and soon more of their classmates joined them outside of the locker room. Hawks then looked between Yūka and Touya before he laughed a little. “Todoroki, you are literally the shortest student here." “I am not shut up.” Touya shoved at Hawks’ shoulder, before noticing both Yu and Yūka were each at least a couple inches taller than him. “Oh God I am. What the Hell?” He scoffed and crossed his arms like a pouty child.

[airyoubreath]

The Dragon's Slave [Prt. 1 Ep.1]

A/n: Content in this chapter may be distributing for some readers. Reader discretion is advised.

{Vankyo}

Blood splatters against my armor painting it a dark crimson. The dragon beneath my feet spasms, before taking its last breath. Their life essences leaking out the gaping wound from its head.

I didn't know that name of my victim's, nor did I care. My main mission is to eliminate anyone who stood between me and my goal. Which was to expand the Entros dragon clans' territory, everyone else was a troublesome bug that needed to be squashed.

Yanking my blade from the mangled skull, I take out my handkerchief and cleaned the sword, not wanting the incompetent Geod dragon's blood crusting on my weapon. When I was sure my precious blade was clean, I threw the clothe on the ground, before stamping it with my boot clad foot.

I didn't need it anymore. It was filthy.

It was my least favorite anyway. I had plenty more back home, one less wouldn't hurt. I walked away from the Geod, and looked out at the field that was soaked in crimson, with dragons of different species all dead. All in their different forms.

"Only five dead mi 'lord," My second in command, Qalthis spoke from behind me. I could sense he was in his third form, which was his mortal flesh. "Two injured, and everyone else either has minor cuts or bruises, but nothing we can't recovery from."

A victories shrill travels through me hearing the news. "Excellent. Gather the remaining men and take them to Clerris for food and shelter for the night. We move out in the morning."

"As you wish, mi' lord." Qalthis said, before turning on his heels and leaving to relay my message to the troops.

I was alone once again gazing at my handy work. Was I proud of killing innocent dragons? No, of course not. But what must be done must be done. It was all for the cause. A bigger picture, far grander than this one.

Unfolding my wings from my back, I took flight and headed to Clerris where my men await.

***

"Relax," Qalthis slurred, to me as he took another chug of his ale. "Your permanent scowl is givin the nice folk of Clerris a scare."

I gazed around the tavern to see to see that he was right. The female Entros dragon behind the bar, has wiped the same spot five times, and the other dragon's have deduced their chatter to a whisper. The air was thick with tension. And the reason, was because of me.

Not only was I feared among the other dragon races, but my own as well.

"I'm going to get some air," I said to Qalthis, who only sighed, dinking the last ounce of ale, letting a loud blech and a sigh.

"Suit yourself," he shrugged, his golden eyes half lidded.

I stood from my place at the bar, and the whole tavern held its breath. Sighing I exit the stuffy place and let the cool autumn air calm me.

The night is silent besides the lowly croak of the occasional frog and the crickets playing their late night tune. It was peaceful out here. I leaned my head against the wall outside the tavern, closing my eyes.

"You little bitch!"

My eyes shoot open landing on a half-naked female who looked frightened. They then land on an older gentlemen who's face was turning purple from rage. His dragon on the verge of coming out.

"Stay, away from me you fecrur." She cursed taking father steps back away from him, trying to hang on to her ripped clothes.

" Listen here little girl. I paid good for your tonight." The other dragon takes a step closer to her. "So do me a favor and get back in there and do what you get paid to do."

She hissed at him like a cat which surprised me, until a breeze blew through, making her pheromones travel in my direction. Confirming, that she was in fact an Aquanis. A water dragon or serpent.

The smell of fresh rain, and ozone, mixed with watercress, fills my nostrils stirring something within me. My dragon to noticed her, and that's how I found myself walking their direction.

"Hey!" I shouted causing them both to look in my direction. The female eyes flashed with relief while the older male became angrer.

"Mind your damn business," he growled, his eye turning black. He was a death dragon, part of the Entros dragon clan. "She's mine."

I smirked coming to a stop when I'm standing in front of the Aquanis female. "Oh really," I began turning me gaze on her checking for injuries, or significant marks. "Because I don't see a musu mark on her. No bond was created so she doesn't belong to you."

The older dragon seethe, letting out a growl. "Get out of my way yougin if you know what's good fur ya."

I took a step towards him letting out a growl of my own. My dragon was near the surface but I was still in control, I let some of my power seep from me, my eyes turning red, and a few black scales scatter across my skin.

I watched as his whole face changed in pure fear. His dragon recognizing who I am.

"Y-your, h-him." He stuttered taking a step back. " Y-your t-the, t-the..."

"The Black Nightmare," I was in my mid-transition form, so it sounded more like a growl, than an actual sentence.

"I'm sorry to offend you, I'll be on my way," He turns on his heels tripping on his own feet as he ran down the street away from the whorehouse. When I was sure he was long, I closed my eyes turning back into my human form.

"Now, that is over with, mind telling me your name-" I stopped in pure shock only realizing now that I was speaking to air.

The Aquanis female had disappeared and her scent along with her.

***



A/n:

Dragon's have three forms

1. Reptilian [ Down on all fours]

2. Mid-transtion [ on two legs, has scales, dragon head, claws, snouts, and wings (Varies on race/ species)]

3. Human form 

[lorkai]

 A/N: Yesterday was the last day of the asexual week and I knew I had to hurry to finish this oneshot in time. First because this has been in my drafts for months and second because I genuinely love his and Yuu's friendship, it's so cute and I hope we see more of that in chapter 7.

Warning: Fluff mostly, asexual and gender neutral!reader, first time writing for Malleus, he might be occ, also proofread only one time. Lemme know if there’s a typo pls! 

 --- Tagging: @rainiishowers @astershere @jabberwockk ​

When your chest heaved with uncertainty the only thing you could do was walk until your thoughts cleared, an attentive mind was what would keep you alive in this place after all. And since you arrived in Twisted Wonderland this has happened much more often, anxiety and fear consuming you at being in a totally unknown world and completely without a way to fight those idiots. They had magic while you only had a grumpy fire-breathing cat and your own fists.

It wasn't much, but it was enough for you to be able to snatch the magic pen from their hand and fight. And fighting was the only thing you could do to have a roof over your head and enough money to survive, even though Crowley made you work until your body was as heavy as lead and your mind was about to shut off from the world. Unsurprisingly, today was a day where you ran around, did your homework, took care of your three idiots, and did Crowley's job.

And there was only one problem. You couldn't sleep, couldn't think straight except for the things that awaited you in the morning, tasks that weren't yours but that you had to complete to receive enough Madols to continue living.

Or fight an overblot student, as this has become frequent.

The weather was hot, making you roll from one side of the bed to the other and sometimes face Grimm on his side of the bed, purring, sometimes muttering something you didn't understand. The sound of him purring would put you to sleep most nights, but today it just didn't work. Even scrolling through posts didn't work and counting sheep was a little too childish for you to consider the thought.

Tired of the restless hours and the heat, you got up and left the room. You intended to eat ice cream or whatever you had in the fridge and try to study for the exams that were almost there, even though you knew that tomorrow you would need energy and willingness to get through the day. You held back a sigh, imagining the things you'd fix once you got Crowley's generous allowance, maybe you'd buy a new sofa as the current one was falling apart. But looking up you decided it would be better to fix the roof, slight leaks were forming and you had already scraped both your knees from so many times you had slipped in puddles of water while walking in a hurry.

  The ghosts were starting to place bets on how much it would take for you to get seriously hurt, and while they were laughing at the situation, they were also careful to try and catch you before you fell - which again didn't work, as they were ghosts and couldn't touch you physically.

“Awake at this hour, child?” The ghost floated past you as if waiting for the right moment to snap you out of your melancholy thoughts, but also with the mischievous air of someone who intended to scare you. The smile on his face was all you needed to know to realize it and he laughed softly. “Try drinking hot milk to relax. I remember my mother always giving me milk with honey when I was just a little kid, I miss those days.”

But you denied it, indifferently.

"I'm going to eat ice cream." You told him, stretching. You considered drinking iced milk for a moment before dismissing the idea, Grimm would go crazy if he didn't have milk to drink in the morning and you weren't even that fond of it.

“Oh well, I don't think it's good… Hm? Oh, he's there again?" The ghost muttered and broke off, turning toward the window as if he'd heard something you hadn't. Surreptitiously he approached the window to spy something outside that had caught his attention, his gestures were careful and thoughtful as it seemed that he didn't want to be seen by whoever was outside. And curious, you approached him and looked too, but at first you didn't see anything out of the ordinary. "It is so strange. He always shows up at this time and wanders around outside, sometimes humming, sometimes playing his game. Formerly he even dared to enter here. I find it so lonely. Anyway, go to sleep, child, I'm sure you'll feel better in the morning. Goodnight."

And just as he suddenly appeared, the ghost disappeared through the walls. But the doubt was already in your head and ignoring all your common sense you opened the door and the urge to eat ice cream, and ventured against the gusts of dry wind and the persistent heat. You didn't care so much about the lack of an air conditioner anymore, but Crowley could be generous enough to give you a fan at least. And it almost made your tired mind laugh. If he had the option to continue procrastinating he would do so without a shadow of a doubt.

The tall grass was at your ankles and the sensation would almost tickle you if it weren't irritating, you analyzed the scenery in front of you meticulously trying to see what lurked in the dark of the night and only then noticed the person resting under the old willow tree. The black and green uniform managed to camouflage him between the tall trees and the dark of a moonless night, if you didn't know what you were looking for then you certainly wouldn't notice him there, but you noticed him and you decided to approach him with carefree steps. Perhaps the lack of sleep made you dumber than you already were. But you've faced greater dangers than just a guy sitting on the grass in your dorm.

And what could he do? You asked with a silent laugh.

  He didn't seem capable of hurting anyone, though his face grew serious with every step you took towards him. But that didn't stop you as you imagined the reasons he would be there, at that time. Maybe he also had trouble sleeping at night or just went out to clear his head like you did sometimes, as the ghost said he was definitely humming something, though your human ears were unable to capture the beauty of the sound until it was too late and he has stopped humming.

Or maybe, the ironic thought raced through your brain, you had finally reached a deep exhaustion and were creating a person in your mind that you could talk to normally. It was ironic that the NRC therapist needed another therapist.

  His green eyes were mesmerizing and tinged with danger. But what caught your attention the most were the prominent horns sticking out of his head and how you wanted to touch them. You didn't doubt for a second that they were real, after all the encounter with Leona, the dorm leader of Savanaclaw, who had the ears and tail of a lion was still fresh in your memory. And you refrained from touching them without permission, smiling as you crouched in front of him, a few feet away.

“Um, are you okay? What are you doing here?" you asked, running your eyes over his body to make sure you didn't see any apparent injuries. Sighing, you concluded that he must have gone there for another reason when all he did was smile as if he was amused at something, his eyes twinkling in an odd way. You scratched your neck like you didn't know how to react to that, Twisted Wonderland was really testing your limits to be proactive and know how to act with every awkward situation thrown your way.

  He denied. “This is a surprise. You're a child of man, aren't you?”

You shrugged, laughing softly at the nickname he'd bestowed on you. Despite the strangeness you could see that he really wouldn't do you any harm.

“So this derelict dorm that I've taken as my own for all this time actually has a new owner after all, it's a shame. I really wish I had a place where I could enjoy the silence.” Malleus shifted and sat cross-legged as he stared at a fixed point lost in the darkness. To you he seemed to be lost in thought, he didn't even blink when you waved your hand in front of his face. But the fae paid attention to your gestures, studied them, and found it funny how you acted with concern rather than fear.

A lonely smile played across his face while he thought about how other people would be running and profusely apologizing for interrupting him during his rest, how they feared him simply because he was more powerful than they were. But there is no power without humility and he would never do anything against people without having a reason to do so. "If this dorm is no longer abandoned I should find another place for my next night outing, I guess this is my cue to say goodbye then, child of man."

The boy in front of you got up and straightened his robes. He looked ready to leave and perhaps it was best to leave him, as your experiences with all the inhabitants of Twisted Wonderland had been interesting, to say the least, but dangerous. However, you held his hand on impulse, probably because he looked familiar to you. It reminded you of a certain mystical being that brought you comfort as you explored the world and sought to understand who you were.

"Or you can keep coming." You offered and he was considering the offer, and you noticed how he was weighing the pros and cons equally as he straightened his gloves and dusted off his uniform. "Only me and my grumpy cat live here, so it wouldn't be a problem if you joined us once in a while."

“You have no knowledge of who I am, do you, child of man?” Was his immediate response, circling you in slow steps as he watched confusion paint your face. The air around him told you he'd already made his decision before he'd even said it aloud, that the confidence in his smile and the soft way his eyes gleamed heralded the start of something interesting. “Do you not fear me? Aren't you afraid that I might do something to you?”

You suppressed a laugh and slapped his arm in a friendly gesture. “Of course I do, I'm not that innocent and I've had some problems since I got here. But with every passing second it's hard to be scared when all I'm thinking about is whether I can touch your horns or not." You said it sincerely. You raised your hands in the air, but you waited for some kind of positive reaction to your comment so you could actually do that. “I don't know if this sounds weird but you remind me of a dragon. I think it's because of the horns and you know, dragons are important symbols for people like me. It reminds me of home, at least.”

Suddenly, Malleus doubled over with laughter and it was more than obvious that he hadn't expected that heartfelt answer. He was a strange guy, you supposed, but at least his laugh was merry and it took most of your tiredness away easily and you joined him in laughing, a soft, genuine laugh influenced by his glee.

“You amuse me, child of man.” He actually declared. "May I ask you a question?"

You nodded, moving your hand to emphasize that he had permission to do so. You shifted your weight from one leg to the other as you waited for him to collect his thoughts and ask the question he seemed to want to ask, you suppressed a laugh as the grass hit your ankles again and focused your attention on his green eyes.

“When you say dragons are important symbols for people like you, what do you mean?” It was a genuine question that anyone could have, but you always answered it in a clumsy way because for some people it didn't make sense and they were rude when they expressed their opinions camouflaged with prejudice on the subject. It would be a shame if the boy in front of you was one of those people, but you could see a special glint in his eye and you were pretty sure that wasn't the case.

"It's a bit of a long story." You said turning towards your dorm, not caring about the time or the hot weather that still bothered you. “Mind if we talk while we eat ice cream?”

For someone his size, Malleus nearly jumped and let out a squeal of excitement at the invitation. But he regained his composure quickly and hid what he felt behind a forced, loud cough, finally agreeing to escort you into the dorm so you could chat some more while enjoying a good old-fashioned ice cream. It was easy to tell it was his favorite dessert from the way he was almost floating down the stairs to the door, a shy little smile on his lips.

If he'd noticed how old everything was, he'd been kind enough not to mention it in front of you, escorting you into the kitchen to watch the careful way you poured two bowls of ice cream and hummed a tune he didn't know.

“Here it is, hope you like it!” You handed him a bowl of ice cream, smiling. And he thanked you with a polite nod, pushing his long hair behind his ear before eating the delicious dessert. “My name is Yuu, by the way. What is your name?"

The boy in front of you laughed once more before giving you an enigmatic look. “I prefer that you remain without that knowledge. You see, it's for your own good, I assure you. However, I grant you permission to give me a nickname.”

Granted, the toothless human version could be a little eccentric, but you looked at it through a more optimistic lens and thought of various puns on dragons and their names. Tiamat, Sunfyre, Toothless and many other names, but you ended up choosing the nickname Tsunotaro. In your head it made complete sense, at least and suited him.

"Well, as promised I'll tell you why dragons are important." You left your ice cream bowl on the sink as you came to sit on the counter, standing at the same height as Tsunotaro. The common nervousness and anxiety of coming out tickled your belly, but at that point you already knew how to handle it and took a deep breath. “There’s a thing called asexuality, it is a sexuality characterized by a lack of attraction and a desire to, umm, have intimate relationships with someone. Some asexual people like to cuddle and kiss and be in romantic relationships and situations. Other people may not be interested in any of this either, it varies greatly from person to person. Got the general idea?”

Tsunotaro nodded, still eating his ice cream slowly savoring all its flavors and listening to every word you said with great interest.

“Well, as we were little seen and understood by society we kind of associate asexuality with dragons. They don't exist in the world I come from, but I've always taken comfort in the thought of them, as they are so free and big and strong and happy." You smiled with the memories of your past. How you spent hours drawing messy dragons in your notebooks or making plans to invade Denmark while eating garlic bread. Those were the happiest and loneliest days, mainly because you hadn't had the opportunity to meet many people like you or who fully understood your expectations and fears. “You reminded me of a dragon because of your horns. I hope you don't find this too strange or offensive."

Tsunotaro, however, waved his hand away to dismiss your worried thought. “You are certainly not wrong, child of man, since in part I am a dragon, yes. With a pair of horns and a tail, and if I wanted I could take the full form of a dragon, so I'm flattered to think that thousands of people adore my kind and feel safe and happy when they think of us.”

He smiled. A relaxed, happy smile as he leaned his back against the counter you sat on, the silence that fell between the two of you was the comfortable kind. Almost as if two good old friends had been reunited after a long time apart. "You... You can touch them if you still want to, fufu." he said suddenly, lowering his head and peering in your direction with one of his emerald eyes.

But you hesitated. You had just met him and it felt so strange to touch his horns all of a sudden, but when you looked at him and realized he was serious and he really didn't care, you touched them. From base to tip, feeling the texture and trying to remember if you've ever touched anything that looked like this.

Unbelieving that a sleepless night made you befriend a half dragon, you look into Tsunotaro's face intently and study each expression carefully. How he shivers at the chills running down his spine when you hold his horns, how he closes his eyes and sighs when you massage them. As he goes silent, you decide to go ahead with it. It's so weird, but it's so interesting at the same time. Despite their appearance, they are soft and warm to the touch and he seems to enjoy having his horns massaged like that. The relaxed expression he wears makes you laugh, it's almost like petting a kitten and watching its reactions. He's cute like that.

"You know, I believe we'll be good friends." You mumble softly. At the very least, you hope that after all this the two of you can be friends, as he seemed like someone genuinely nice to spend time with.

The sweet sound of his laughter echoed through the kitchen as he looked at you. "I'd love it if we were friends, child of man. Could you tell me more about asexuality?"

You nodded enthusiastically, feeling really welcomed and comfortable. And for the rest of the night you and he were talking about it, making jokes and puns and just having fun.

And that was the story of how you met Malleus Draconia. For people who would like a more elaborate and challenging plot this could be a rather ordinary and boring story, but for him and for you it was a pleasant story and full of good memories. A story of a dragon and his ace friend.

[1-800-imagines]

then | changes part 8

masterlist of series

authors note: kind of a transition chapter, not the best, i apologize. ALSO this fic is obvi not cannon and selina kyle is not in it so i am adapting around that, some events are out of order

PRINCESS OF GOTHAM DEAD

the text scrolled across the screen and you bit your lip.

you bounced your leg as you watched the press release. usually it would be thomas you would be thomas you would be bouncing, but he was making his first public appearance today.

jim gordon was currently standing outside the gotham precinct talking to the reporters where they were all hungry for bruce’s appearance.

everyone had decided it be necessary to have thomas be there as no one would believe you dead if thomas were no where to be found either.

gordon stepped up to the mic. everyone had been in arms about your 'death' as you were a far different target than the mayor, the commissioner, and the da.

"it is with great sorrow to announce that y/n y/l/n was tragically murdered last night by the riddler. we know this without a doubt and we are using all of our resources to find him. a tape has been leaked of y/n's death and we are advising the public not to listen out of respect of her family. now a word from mr. wayne, her fiancé." jim finished.

bruce walked out of the precinct doors carrying thomas. bruce stepped up to the mic and cleared his throat, "this is the second person the riddler has hurt because of me. first alfred, now y/n." thomas started to whine, “this is our child, thomas bruce wayne jr or tommy as y/n called him. he’s without a mother now.” you could see the pain in bruce’s face as he spoke these words as they were his biggest fears and he needed to make it seem realistic.

you swallowed hard you were worried about the two of them being in such a public place when the riddler was clearly obsessed with him.

“she was a great woman and an even better mother. i should have made better use of our time together. that’s all, thank you.” bruce said and walked back inside as the reporters went wild with questions.

your heart broke, seeing the pain in bruce’s eyes knowing he meant every word of it. tears streamed down your face as you clicked off the tv.

“would you like some tea, ms. y/n?” you heard the voice around the corner, wiping the tears away from your cheeks.

you stood up, “dotty?” you asked softly. you knew she was around, but you hadn’t seen her during your arrival last night.

“i didn’t mean to interrupt. i made you tea. i thought you might like some.” she said, walking in and presenting you tea, just how you liked it.

“you remembered.” this made the tears come falling again and your knees buckled. dotty had always made you tea when you weee upset when you were a teenager, it had been a staple comfort item and a bonding moment between the two of you.

dotty quickly put the tray down and rushed to your side, “sweet girl, everything will be alright. you’re home safe again. we will take care of you.”

you leaned into her shoulder, just as you had when you were a young teenager, “how can anything be the same?” you whispered.

“well it won’t be and it shouldn’t be. there’s a baby now. and if that doesn’t make you want to work things out with him, i don’t know what will.” she said, stroking your hair.

you sniffled, “i’m just so worried about him.”

“well aren’t we all, but now he has someone to come home to besides just me and silly alfred.”

you hugged her a final time, “thank you dot.”

your phone beeped and you looked at it. it was a text from bruce with a link to a news article titled SECRET LOVE CHILD OF LATE Y/N Y/LN AND BRUCE WAYNE? FIND OUT MORE TONIGHT

you swore, you knew that meant reporters would be swarming the manor trying to get more pictures of thomas, especially after that pressconference. there was nowhere safe for them to go in gotham. you needed to find the riddler and be done with this, fast.

thankfully, bruce and tommy would have a police escort back to the house later, but you had gone down to start analyzing the latest letter. as you were about to shut down the computers a pattern in the code caught your eye of your initials. you erased all of those symbols which pertained and it spelled out perfect, ‘44’.

you felt sick, you never wanted to step foot in the iceberg lounge or 44 below again. your last name was a legend in that club because of your father as he was known to take any hit job no matter the target, no questions asked. a year after he had killed your mother, you went looking for answers and had a horrible encounter with falcone and the penguin. if it hadn’t been for young bruce, you wouldn’t have made it out alive.

but you knew you were the only one who was going to get in, even if you were supposed to be dead.

[bakuhoes-dumbass]

Aberration - Chapter 2

MHA!Various x Fem!Reader

Thriller/Horror/Drama

Criminal!AU

Words: 1.5k

A/N: Yay, here’s the second chapter of my new AU! It’s a little shorter but I promise chapters will get longer as we go.

Warnings: Yandere Themes, Mentions of murder, blood, felonies, bullying, swearing.

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters of MHA, just this story. In no way does this reflect the characters, writers or VAs of the show/manga. MINORS DNI.

~~~

Aberration Masterlist

~~~

"Now, on to your next subject. Inmate 04, Eijiro Kirishima." You flip the page of your inmate profiles to see a picture of a red-haired man. "He is of a higher danger level, so make sure to keep your guard up. And for the love of God, under any circumstances…

Do not touch him."

Only slightly acknowledging his warning, you look down at your notes, eyebrows shooting up in surprise at the words on the page. "He suffers from Erotomania? Interesting…"

Aizawa nods. "Ah, yes. A very rare condition indeed, especially in males. The affected person strongly believes that another individual is in love with them. This delusion develops and persists despite clear evidence to the contrary."

"That's a very exciting find. I can't wait to meet him." Your eyes light up, quite intrigued.

Aizawa sighs and gestures with his head. "Follow me."

Kirishima's room was only a few doors down from Tokoyami's. Once again, Aizawa presses his hand to a key code and you hear the door unlock, following a buzzer. You slowly make your way into the room. It mirrors Tokoyami's down to the last detail, the only difference being a redhead was currently doing pushups.

He barely acknowledges a person stepping into his room, eyes flitting to your form and back to the ground. It takes him a moment to realize it was someone new. As soon as he does, his eyes widen and he springs onto his feet, slightly startling you.

"Oh! Hello there! You're new!"

You nod your head and smile at the red-head. "That I am. My name is Y/N and I'm the newest scientist at this facility. My role here is to get to know and observe you all to help further our findings for a cure." You choose to leave out the 'friends' part, as something about him makes you weary. You don't need anything being misinterpreted.

"Hello there, Y/N! My name is Kirishima!" He takes a step towards you but is suddenly stopped by a lower force. You look down to see his ankles chained to the heavy-duty bed frame, connected to him by quirk-canceling cuffs. You look back up to see him looking at you intensely, with a shark-toothed smile. "Man, you're really pretty!"

You swallow thickly, but keep your smile. "That's very kind of you to say, Kirishima. Now, if I may." You take a seat at the desk like you did with Tokoyami. Kirishima follows suit and sits across from you on the bed. His smile never wavers, making you slightly uneasy. You ignore it and turn to a blank page in your notebook. "Now, if you could please state your full name, age and date of birth?"

He gives you a chuckle and points to himself proudly with his thumb. "I'M Eijiro Kirishima! I'm 22 years old and my Birthday is October 16th!"

You giggle softly at his extroverted personality. "Ahh, same birth month as Tokoyami." You mumble to yourself. His ears perked up and his smile faltered slightly.

"You met Tokoyami already?"

"Hm?" You look up and smile fondly. "Ah yes, I have. He was the first one. A very nice young man."

You look back down at your notes, failing to see Kirishima's eye twitch slightly. He returns to his signature smile as you look up at him again. "And what is your quirk?"

"Oh, it's so cool! I can harden my entire body to an extreme. I can make myself a shield or a weapon! Pretty manly, am I right?" Kirishima wiggles his eyebrows at you, causing you to chuckle.

"That is definitely a unique one, Kiri." You, once again, fail to notice the way his eyes light up at the nickname, too busy looking down at your notes. "Now I see here that you've been charged with Stalking and 2 counts of second degree murder. Is that correct?"

"Yup! Although I don't understand how it would be considered 'Stalking', when she always knew I was around. She was okay with it, too! I mean, we WERE in love, you know." He furrows his brows.

You raise a brow and write down everything he says. "Care to continue explaining what happened? Why were you brought into this facility?"

Kirishima sighs and rests his chin on his hand, a dazed look on his face. "Well, you see. There was this girl. We were totally, completely head over heels for each other. You've probably heard of her, Kim Hyuna?"

Your eyebrows shoot up. Yeah, you heard of her. She is one of the biggest idols around right now, extremely pretty and extremely talented. She has millions of fans from around the world. You already can see where the direction of this story is headed.

He continues with a wide smile. "We used to go out on dates everywhere. To the mall, the salon, even to her dorms. We were so in love." His dazed expression turns sour. "Then that stupid boy shows up outta nowhere. He took her from me. He dared to take something so precious from me. So, I couldn't take it anymore and, uh, kinda killed them."

You watched him rub the back of his neck sheepishly, like the situation was no more than a mere broken dish he dropped on accident. You nod your head carefully, writing the last bit of information down. Clicking your pen, you look up and give the young man a fake smile.

"Well, that's it for today, Kirishima. I must take my leave, but I'll be back to run some tests soon."

Kirishima frowns and quickly stands up. "W-Wait, already?"

You gather up your notes and clipboard. "Yes, unfortunately. I do have some other patients I need to get to before-" as you go to stand up, your foot gets caught under the chair leg and you trip. You accidentally fall forward and into something hard. Looking up, you realized you fell against Kirishima himself, your hands splayed out against his chest.

His eyes widen, staring down at your hands against his chest, something shifting in his eyes. Before you're able to pull your hands away, his own reach up and snatch your wrists, holding them in place. A blush appears on the apples of his cheeks.

"Y-Y/N. I-I had no idea you felt the same."

Your eyes widen in fear. You attempt to tug your hands away, but his iron grip tightens into a bruising force. "Kirishima, I would advise you to kindly let go of me. Please, don't misunderstand the situation."

His grin widens, showcasing his sharp teeth. Red eyes bore into yours with a wild look. You hear the door buzz behind you and a flood of voices coming in. You feel a pair of arms reach around you and hands grip your elbows. Two pairs of hands each grab Kirishima by the arms and force him to release his grip on you. You watched two of Aizawa's assistants hold down a struggling Kirishima as you were forcibly dragged out of his room.

Once safely outside, you were spun around to meet the eyes of a fuming and worried doctor. "Are you alright, Y/N?" Aizawa's eyes travel along your body, doing a quick examination to make sure nothing was injured.

You nod your head and rotate your slightly bruised wrists. "Y-Yeah, I'm fine. Just a little shaken up."

Aizawa sighs. "Didn't I say NOT to touch him? His obsession tends to solidify with physical contact."

You wince. "I know. This time it was an accident. I tripped and he just happened to, uh, be the 'wall' I fell against." You think back to the moment you fell against Kirishima. His chest felt almost rock solid, not like a normal human body would be. Now you're thinking that his quirk leaked through the cuffs and that thought scares you.

"Nobody said you were clumsy when you were hired," he sighs and runs a hand down his tired face. "There are still 9 other inmates you need to check with. And 6 out of the 9 are above Kirishima's danger level. Are you still up for it today?"

You shake out your hands and nod your head. "Yes! I am. A little scare never bothered me. This is my job."

Aizawa hummed in reply and flipped through his clipboard, stopping on a page. "Inmate 09, Keigo Takami. Mafia leader. He's a level 7 as well, but doesn't have delusions like Inmate 04 does. While he's very dangerous, he's a little more tolerable." Aizawa hesitates before continuing. "Er, minus the excessive flirting."

You sigh and flip through Keigo's information. "Oh goodie. Well, let's get this over with." You follow Aizawa to Keigo's door and once it buzzes, you enter the pristine, white room.

"Good afternoon Mr. Keigo, my name is Y/N and I'll-" You look up from your notes to see a half naked man with blonde hair and bright red bird wings lounging on his bed. Your jaw drops and you hold your clipboard up in front of your suddenly heated face.

Keigo looks over to you with his brows raised. "Well well, looks like we've got ourselves a new baby bird. How…" The handsome man's lips turn up into a cocky smirk.

"...interesting."

~~~

Taglist: @theblueslytherin @sterassion @somechick30003 @meena-in-a-nutshell @justtj-andnonumberspls @zombieonna @amajikiwife @yulifee @atexansadventureintokinkandlife @ep-ip-ha-ny @hcneymilkks @pastelmoonwitche @stayarmytinyzenmoa-l @railmeddy @unlimitedfirepheonix @confaegion @drownedbytears @burntcrips @silverqueenie @the-lady-writes-what @awkward-confused @themotherofmoons @ihaveakoreanseoul @1-800-multifandomness @tragically-here @andyronii @sunnnyshark @henhouse-horrors  @dabis-s-whore 

(If your name is bolded, I couldn’t tag you)