#this is very targeted against iron fist mains

[arisoups]

who cares if im goin 15-9 every game at least im having fun as star-lord are you having fun???????? playing ur stupid broken character to win????? hmm??????? exactly. we are not the same

[brightresearchers]

Barry's Pokémon - Main team

#392 - Infernape ♂ Name: Simon Type: Fire/Fighting Ability: Iron Fist

Original Trainer: Professor Rowan Met on Route 201 at level 5.

Hasty nature. Highly curious. Likes sweet food. Dislikes sour food.

Held item: King’s Rock

Preferred moves: Fire Punch - The target is attacked with a fiery punch. This may also leave the target with a burn.  Aura Sphere - The user lets loose a pulse of aura power from deep within its body at the target. This attack never misses.  Acrobatics - The user nimbly strikes the target. This attack does massive damage if the user isn't holding an item.  Fake Out - This attack hits first and makes the target flinch. It works only on the first turn each time the user enters battle. 

Barry’s first Pokémon, given to him by Professor Rowan when they first met. Much like his trainer, he’s very impulsive and likely to take action quickly and decisively, which among the other Pokémon raised by the professor makes him act as a sort of leader figure even though his decisions usually get questioned. He’s very physically affectionate and as a Chimchar had a habit of climbing into people’s shoulders if he trusted them enough, but now that he evolved into a big fire hazard that habit is no longer advisable. Simon’s also surprisingly well-versed in geography and likes to show off his knowledge.

He’s a classic representative of Barry’s preference for all-out offense and hit-and-run tactics, overwhelming his opponents with his superior agility and then unleashing devastating fire-based attacks to end the fight as soon as possible. If he does have to worry about opposing attacks in a battle, what he lacks in defense he makes up for in sheer nimbleness, so instead of taking hits head-on he’s much more adept at dodging with acrobatic maneuvers that only add more momentum to his hyper-aggressive fighting style. The flame at the top of his head also makes for an excellent makeshift campfire.

His name’s derived from a certain video game character from an investigation series that Barry really likes. He didn’t realize it at the time, but the reason why he thought the name was so fitting was because it sounds like simian.

#398 - Staraptor ♂ Name: Falco Type: Normal/Flying Ability: Intimidate

Original Trainer: Barry Met on Lake Verity at level 2.

Serious nature. Quick tempered. No food preferences.

Held item: Shell Bell

Preferred moves: Fly - The user soars and then strikes its target on the next turn. This can also be used to fly to any familiar town.  Close Combat - The user fights the target up close, inflicting damage without guarding itself. This also lowers the user's Defense and Sp. Def stats.  U-Turn - After making its attack, the user rushes back to switch places with a party Pokémon in waiting.  Uproar - The user attacks in an uproar for three turns. During that time, no Pokémon can fall asleep. 

At the very beginning of Barry’s journey, when he was searching for rare Pokémon at Lake Verity, he ended up getting attacked by an extremely territorial Starly, which he caught right there after seeing the potential for greatness in such a reckless Pokémon. Compared to most of the other Pokémon on the team he’s not much of a talker and usually keeps to his own devices, but when he does talk he shows a surprisingly mean personality with a strong preference for edgy humor. Barry, of course, thinks that his Pokémon being an emo kid is absolutely hilarious.

In battle, he’s well-known for preferring rushdown tactics without much regard for his own defense, usually dodging attacks by flying really high up as a way to give himself longevity in a fight instead of trying to parry or resist any attacks thrown his way. He’s great at punching holes against enemy teams, causing as much damage as possible in close quarters and going down relatively quickly, but if for some reason he doesn’t get to close the distance in a fight he instead tends to rely on sound moves to blast his opponents from afar. He has one hell of a shrill cry, so being on the receiving end of his sound blasts is quite painful.

His name’s a reference to a famous singer with a very popular old-timey song that Barry’s mom regularly listens to. The fact that it sounds like the word falcon is coincidental.

#419 - Floatzel ♂ Name: Miles Type: Water Ability: Swift Swim

Original Trainer: Barry Met on Route 205 at level 11.

Relaxed nature. Mischievous. Likes sour food. Dislikes sweet food.

Held item: Punching Glove

Preferred moves: Liquidation - The user slams into the target using a full-force blast of water. This may also lower the target's Defense stat.  Ice Punch - The target is punched with an icy fist. This may also leave the target with frostbite.  Dig - The user burrows into the ground, then attacks on the next turn. It can also be used to exit dungeons.  Swift - Star-shaped rays are shot at opposing Pokémon. This attack never misses. 

Miles was caught shortly after the incident on Valley Windworks, as one of the Pokémon that got disturbed by Team Galactic’s actions and ended up lashing out against humans that crossed his territory. After Barry managed to calm him down, he actually turned out to be surprisingly well-behaved, acting as a voice of reason in this otherwise extremely chaotic team. With that being said, he also has a mean streak and likes to sneak around and misplace objects just to mess with his trainer and teammates, as they’re overall pretty easy to rile up. He’s a big fan of contests.

Being an agile Pokémon in land and water, Miles has the usual fighting style in Barry’s team of overwhelming enemies with speed and then laying the smackdown on them, but something unique to him is that he has a preference for jabs and parries, fighting at close range not unlike a boxer without relying on constant dodging maneuvers. His tails essentially function as extra limbs when he’s up close, and when they’re spinning to act as propellers they have a surprising amount of cutting power. Miles’ fighting style is heavily influenced by Barry’s wrestling lessons with Crasher Wake, and he also looks up to the gym leader as a mentor.

His name is derived from a certain video game character with similar colors that also has two tails that can spin. Barry’s actually really into video games.

#421 - Cherrim ♂ Name: Cheri Berry Type: Grass Ability: Flower Gift

Original Trainer: Dawn Met on Eterna City at level 14.

Bold nature. Somewhat stubborn. Likes sour food. Dislikes spicy food.

Held item: Heat Rock

Preferred moves: Petal Blizzard - The user stirs up a violent petal blizzard and damages everything around it.  Weather Ball - This move's type and power change depending on the weather at the time the move is used.  Endure - The user endures any attack with at least 1 HP. This move's chance of failing rises if used in succession.   Rollout - The user rolls into the target to deal damage, then becomes fixated on using this move. 

Cheri was originally caught by Dawn during her visit to Floaroma and later on traded with Barry so that they could help each other as trainers and add more variety to their teams. He’s a bit of a temperamental Pokémon, being very energetic when the weather’s nice and he can get his fill of sunlight but getting far more reserved and even a little impatient if he has to spend a lot of time in the dark. His mood shifts seem to align very well with his trainer’s own temperamental attitude, so if one of them is feeling happy the other will probably be in a good mood as well, and the same is true when one of them is down in the dumps.

Like any Cherrim, Cheri draws power from sunlight to activate his fully-bloomed form, becoming faster and stronger while also being capable of sharing that energy with his allies. Unlike most members of his species, however, he’s able to transform at will without necessarily requiring strong sunlight or even exposure to daylight due to extensive training, but apparently that ability can be rather exhausting if he overdoes it. When his petals are folded he can save up energy, but since that form is actually pretty resilient and can take hits well he can also switch back to it in order to protect himself.

He’s very obviously named after the berry, but his name is also a reference to a song that Barry’s dad really likes. Also, it has a nice rhyme to it.

#214 - Heracross ♂ Name: Samson Type: Bug/Fighting Ability: Guts

Original Trainer: Barry Met on Route 210 at level 15.

Jolly nature. Very finicky. Likes sweet food. Dislikes dry food.

Held item: Honey

Preferred moves: Megahorn - Using its tough and impressive horn, the user rams into the target to inflict damage.  Revenge - This attack move's power is doubled if the user has been hurt by the opponent in the same turn.  Spikes - The user lays a trap of spikes at the feet of the opposing team. The spikes will damage opposing Pokémon that switch into battle.  Thief - The user attacks and steals the target's held item simultaneously. The user can't steal anything if it already holds an item. 

Samson was caught after Barry lured him with honey on Route 210, but before that he was known to harass the workers at a café in that area so that he could steal their food. He’s an avid foodie with a strong preference for sweets, and as such he can be very easily bribed with honey, but if left unchecked he’s also known to have an incredibly malicious streak and complete willingness to bully and coerce others into getting what he wants. Thankfully, Barry seems to have this situation under control, as he can somewhat relate to his Pokémon’s questionable moral compass.

His strongest trait in combat is his lifting strength, so he’s well-known to toss his opponents around with his horn even when they’re much heavier than he is, but even beyond that he can lift objects like boulders and tree logs to use as blunt weapons, so he’s a surprisingly brutal fighter. If an opponent assumes that getting out of grappling range will keep them safe, however, they’ll be in for a nasty surprise as his horn can also be used as a piercing weapon and he’s much faster than one would expect, being able to close the distance in a matter of seconds when he’s in the air.

His name is, of course, taken from the mythological figure. Barry took suggestions from Dawn, and she thought that Hercules would be a bit too obvious.

#143 - Snorlax ♂ Name: Elmo Type: Normal Ability: Thick Fat

Original Trainer: Barry Met on Route 221 at level 5.

Docile nature. Proud of its power. No food preferences.

Held item: Leftovers

Preferred moves: Rest - The user goes to sleep for two turns. This fully restores the user's HP and cures any status conditions.  Covet - The user endearingly approaches the target, then steals the target's held item.  Heat Crash - The user slams into the target with its flame-covered body. The more the user outweighs the target, the greater the move's power.  Darkest Lariat - The user swings both arms and hits the target. The target's stat changes don't affect the damage inflicted by this move. 

Elmo was caught near the end of Barry’s journey in Sinnoh, after a long search all over the region for the elusive Munchlax that led him to a strange seaside route surprisingly close to his hometown. He’s a very sleepy Pokémon, usually not having many words to say, but there’s a certain confidence to him that shows he’s extremely powerful and aware of it. Very cooperative as long as he’s being bribed with food, Elmo will eat just about anything with no distinctions, but if he’s on an empty stomach he’ll sulk and complain about it, so he constantly needs to be pampered.

Unlike most of Barry’s Pokémon, who rely on speed because they can’t take hits very well, Elmo is an absolute juggernaut, charging forward slowly but surely and smashing anything on his path. He’s so hard to break through that sometimes he’s known to take naps during battles to restore energy and wake up completely unfazed, but his trainer doesn’t really like that kind of strategy because it takes up too much time. He’s had some wrestling lessons from Wake as well, so he’s known to throw some mean punches, and his favorite strategy is to overwhelm his enemies with his sheer size and pin them down until they have to tap out.

He’s named after a kids’ show character because Barry saw a certain resemblance when he was still unevolved. The reference’s not as obvious now that he’s fully grown.

[theferricfox]

[[A/N: this puked its way out of my brain after @levmada mentioned they were looking for some hurt/comfort. I think I hurt myself writing this...]]

Content warnings: character death, illness, grief

ALL THAT’S LEFT

You stood in your house, pacing. Trying not to pace. The wood floorboards creaked in places with your steps, reminding you to stand still. The silence when you stood was too much, too loud. You paced.

You hated when Levi went outside the walls. You hated that Erwin lauded him as Humanity’s Strongest, making it impossible for him to bow out of an expedition. You hated that you had agreed to leave the Corps, leaving Levi to himself out there. 

You knew he was strong. You knew he could slay Titans all day and barely break a sweat. But still, you worried. How long would it be before his anchor didn’t seat and fell uselessly away from its target, leaving him to fall into the jaws of a monster? How long before he made a mistake? How long before he got injured?

You paced. You coughed.

You remembered the blood. There was always so much of it, everywhere. You couldn’t say you missed being out there, surrounded by the screams of the doomed and the stench of broken bodies. But you’d had each other’s backs, and that made it bearable. Now you could only wait. And pace. And ignore the spot on the floor you had scrubbed until your fingers were rubbed raw. You could still smell the iron as though the wood was impregnated with it.

The door flung open, startling you from your thoughts. Levi stood completely still for a moment, taking in your disheveled hair, your wrinkled nightgown. There was no greeting, no “I’m home.” He simply grit his teeth, stepped inside, and closed the door. Three locks clicked into place. 

“Levi, welcome ho-” you started, relief opening your arms to embrace him. 

But he walked past you, eyes glued to the floor, never uttering a sound. You stood, mouth still open in greeting but feeling stuffed with cotton. You stared at the door he’d just walked through, your arms slowly sinking back to your sides. You heard the shower sputter on and turned, confused. Levi always showered at headquarters before coming home.

The sound of water splashing filled the silence in the room for long moments that stretched into eternity, broken suddenly by a piercing scream ringing through the house and a slam against the floor so powerful it skittered up your nerves and into your heart. The scream, long, pained, and raw died and was followed by another, and by more pounding to the floor.

You rushed to the bathroom door, placing a hand to the wood, fear tracing spiderwebs down your spine.

“Levi? Honey?” you called.

“FUCK OFF!” came the reply, sharp and aching.

You paused, a flare of anger swelling in your chest that you forced yourself to squash down. He’d never spoken to you like this. You squared your shoulders and made your voice even and commanding.

“Levi, I’m coming in.”

When you opened the door, a plume of steam burst into the main room, enveloping you and clouding your vision. You stepped in slowly, searching through the haze for Levi.

You found him on the floor, one leg drawn to his chest, the other splayed out in front of him. His right hand covered his face, the fingers pressed into his hairline. The left was fisted against the floor, the board underneath cracked very slightly from his assault. Head hung low, he tightened his jaw and whispered through gritted teeth.

“I told you to fuck off.”

You walked to the shower and turned off the water, silence instantly invading the room except for the soft drip drip of water from the showerhead. You knelt by Levi’s side and waited. No touches, no words. You waited. The steam made you dizzy. In your mind, you paced. You cleared your throat to suppress a cough.

Levi sat quiet, rigid, for minutes that seemed to stretch into days. You sat quiet, waiting, watching his partially obscured face. Tried to focus on him as your head swam. Watched as he clenched and unclenched his jaw.

You slowly reached out a hand, delicately placing just two fingers on his knuckles. He recoiled, just slightly, hissing through his teeth. You kept your hand in place, slowly adding a third finger, then the fourth, finally settling your thumb on his wrist. You felt gray eyes peer at you through a shield of fingers, but you didn’t avert your attention; you watched his jaw. You carefully rubbed your thumb on his wrist, slow and absent, like an afterthought. You forced your mind to focus even as your vision started to get fuzzy around the edges.

Levi let out a heavy sigh and opened his mouth as if to speak. His lips closed, then opened again. It hung open. You waited.

“My whole squad is dead,” he said at last. 

Your thumb halted, your breath seized in your throat.

“You mean…” You couldn’t find the words.

“Yeah. They’re all fucking dead.”

You thought of his squad, remembering all of them as cadets. How eager Petra had seemed until her first time in the field, when fear had gripped her upon seeing a titan for the first time. How clumsy and awkward Oluo had been, his accent belying his rustic roots. Eld and Gunther, for all their confidence and charisma, had hesitated just long enough to nearly get killed on their first expedition. 

You remembered watching them grow in confidence and ability. You remembered when Erwin and Levi announced the formation of the Special Operations Squad, and how you had invited them all to the house for dinner in celebration. Petra had written to you often after your retirement, updating you on the squad, letting you know when Levi hadn’t been sleeping in the days prior to an expedition when he spent all of his time at headquarters. They had been like your adopted children. And now, they were dead.

You leaned forward and pulled Levi over into your arms, settling his head into your shoulder. He remained rigid for a long moment before melting into you. The hand that had dug into the floor fisted in your nightgown. 

“What happened?” you whispered. You felt Levi shaking against you, struggling to keep his composure.

“I wasn’t fucking there, I don’t even really know,” he said quietly. “I was filling up on gas and blades. The fucking female titan she–”

“A female titan?” you asked. Your mind spun.

“Yeah. Another shifter, like Eren,” he said. “She’s trying to capture him for something. We don’t know what yet. She killed them.”

“Levi, I’m so sorry.” You wrapped your arms around him more tightly and pressed your lips to his head. 

A sob broke into the room, followed by another. Your shirt started to grow damp. Your vision blurred. 

“It’s my fault,” Levi said, choking on tears. “I left them. It’s just like before. I left them and they died.”

You didn’t need to ask what he meant. You rocked gently, somewhere between an effort of comfort and losing your balance.

“It’s not your fault, Love. You were following orders.”

“If I had been there, I could have–”

“If you had been there you probably would be dead, too,” you interrupted. You grabbed his chin roughly and pulled his face up to force him to meet your eyes. “And then Erwin would be the one who came to the door with your death notice. And then what, huh?”

Levi stared into your eyes, fierce despite the haze. His own were liquified, mercurial in his grief.

“I shouldn’t have left them,” he said at last, but his resolve was gone. He was trying to convince himself of his guilt. Just like he always did.

“Maybe not,” you conceded softly. “But it’s done. The best thing you can do is honour them and make sure their lives weren’t lost for nothing.”

Levi pressed his head back into your shoulder and loosened his grip on your nightgown.

“We didn’t even capture her,” he said bitterly.

“You’ll get her,” you replied slowly, pressing a shaking hand into his hair. You hoped he wouldn’t notice. 

“You okay?” he asked, face shooting back up into yours.

Of course he noticed. You struggled to focus your vision and smiled, hoping it looked reassuring.

“Yeah, just exhausted from worrying if you’d come home,” you said softly. 

Levi’s eyes studied you for a long moment before he slowly pushed away from you and stood.

“Let’s get to bed then,” he said, holding out a hand. “Sounds like we both need it.”

You brushed his hand away.

“I’ll come to bed in a second,” you whispered. “Let me clean up the water that’s on the floor first.”

“I can do it–” he started.

“You’ve had a long day,” you said, waving a hand at him. “Go. I’ll just be a minute.”

Levi stepped out of the room carefully, eyes settling on you for just a moment before he turned down the hall and to the bedroom. You heard him shuffling in there, pulling open the dresser drawers in search of something to wear to bed.

You got onto your hands and knees, the breath you had been forcing yourself to control suddenly ragged. Your lungs felt like they were full of water, heavy and threatening to drown. You coughed, feeling your chest rattle with each one and watched tiny specks of blood paint the floor underneath you. Now you’d have to scrub this floor, too.

Your vision swam. Your cheek met the humid grain of the wood. You coughed again, struggling to cover the sound so as not to alert Levi. You didn’t want him to worry. You didn’t want to lay more onto his already heavy burden.

You felt yourself being lifted by strong arms. Levi’s voice came to you distantly, as if through water.

“Hey! What happened? Are you okay?” 

You forced your eyes to focus on the face looking down at you, concern etched deeply into a furrowed brow and heavy frown. Fear welled up in silver eyes.

“Mmm,” you mumbled. Your lungs clawed for air, the pain creeping in. “‘m okay. Just a cold.”

“Like hell it’s a cold!” Levi shouted. He scooped you up, carrying you to the bedroom and laying you gently on the bed. He sat on the edge, a hand placed to your clammy forehead. “How long has this been going on? Why the fuck didn’t you tell me?”

“S-sorry,” you whispered. Your body shuddered with another cough. “You were so busy with meetings for the expedition and I just… I didn’t–”

“Sshh,” Levi crooned. He pushed strands of damp hair from your forehead. “It’s okay. You’re okay. I’m going to go get a doctor. You’ll be okay.” 

The trembling of his voice betrayed his fear. You coughed again, rolling onto your side, heaving with each breath. Blood sprayed onto the bed sheets, onto Levi’s pant leg. You grew limp, breaths shallow and sparse.

“Hey. Hey!” Levi called. His voice became so small and far away in your ears, like someone calling out to a boat as it drifted down the river. “Stay with me! Open your eyes!”

You felt him lift you and press your head to his chest. You felt him grip you tightly as his voice drifted away into the distance.

“Please open your eyes! You can’t leave me too! I need —”

***

Gentle morning light filtered in through the windows, marking the end of the third night Levi had gone without sleep. Despite the doctor’s assurances that you were going to be okay, that the infection in your lungs was caught in time, that you just needed rest, he couldn’t relax.

He’d seen and heard all this before.

An extensive cocktail of antibiotics was pumped into your veins several times a day, and your fever had finally broken last night, but you still hadn’t woken up. Levi couldn’t stop himself from reaching and holding his hand above your mouth four or five times every hour to feel your faint breath on his skin. The doctor said you were stable. You were strong. You were, ‘out of the woods.’ 

He hated that analogy. Outside of the walls, ‘out of the woods’ meant nothing to grapple onto, no height to gain above enemies fifteen meters tall. ‘Out of the woods’ meant vulnerability and for some, death. 

He continued to reassure himself with the soft puffs of your breath on his skin.

The nurse brought Levi breakfast, as she had for the last three mornings. He ate guiltily, knowing that you were wasting away without food under the sterile cream coloured sheets. He’d been told that you would be fine without food for just a few days, but part of him was convinced he could already see your collarbone more sharply than before. He tried to shake the impression away.

He didn’t want to confuse his ghosts with what he still had left.

As he finished his morning tea, you started to stir, a soft whimper escaping your lips.

“Hey,” he whispered urgently. The tea cup was hastily discarded on the nightstand as Levi went to your side, leaning one hand on the bed. He used the other one to caress your cheek. “Hey, I’m right here.”

Your eyes fluttered open, bleary and confused as they adjusted to the light. Your mouth opened and closed, a soft and dry rasp escaping your lips as you sought to find your voice.

“Levi?” You focused your gaze on the dark mop of hair hovering over you, haloed in the morning sun.

“Yes!” Levi exclaimed with a soft, incredulous laugh. “Yes, it’s me. I’m right here, Love.”

He kissed your forehead, his lips trembling, lingering against your skin for a long moment before he pulled away with a weak smile.

“Don’t try to sit up, okay?” He turned towards the door before spinning back around and kissing your forehead again. “I’m going to get the doctor, you just stay there.”

You watched Levi leave and heard him calling out for someone as your vision fully came into focus. You found yourself in a small room, a couch under the window to your right, a chair standing sentinel next to the bed you lay in. On the nightstand near your head, an oil lamp kept company with an empty tea cup. You pushed yourself into a sitting position, grabbing your head as the room spun around you. You reached for the teacup and brought it to your nose, inhaling the scent of black tea. A small smile crept onto your lips as you leaned back against the headboard of the bed.

Levi came rushing back into the room with the doctor in tow and frowned to see you sitting up.

“I told you not to try to sit up!” he chastised gently as he hurried to your side. He took the teacup from your hand and placed it back on the nightstand. “You’re still really sick. You have to take it easy.”

The doctor, a tall, broad man with a salt and pepper beard and shaggy hair, stepped to your left side and listened to your chest and your heart. He looked into your eyes and mouth and tested the strength in your arms and hands. He listened to your stomach and wrote notes in a book.

“You’re recovering well,” the doctor said, his voice like cooling caramel. “You’ll have to take it easy for another week, but I think we can send you home tomorrow if you’re feeling strong enough.”

“Tomorrow? Are you sure?” Levi asked. “She just woke up.”

“Well, like I said, if she’s feeling strong enough, she can go home tomorrow. Otherwise, we’ll keep her another day.” The doctor wrote something else in his notebook. “It’s important for you to check in with us every other day over the next couple of weeks though, alright? Your infection is severe, and although we caught it just in time, there’s a chance you could relapse or have long term damage to your lungs or heart. We have to run tests to make sure.”

You nodded and the doctor left the room. The nurse reappeared with a bowl of porridge and a cup of tea. Levi took the bowl and fed you slowly and only allowed you to sip from the tea when he knew it was cool enough.

“I’m sorry I scared you,” you whispered after your breakfast was done. Levi had climbed into the small hospital bed with you and held you, one thumb tracing absent patterns on your shoulder.

Levi only shook his head and pressed a kiss to your hair.

“I’m sorry,” you repeated. Your voice shook as you fisted the sheets in your hands. “To do this to you when you’re already grieving. I made you worry and you’ve been sitting here this whole time and–”

“Ssshhh,” Levi hushed. He turned your face towards his and captured your lips in a soft kiss. “Don’t apologize. You’re okay now; that’s what matters.”

You hummed in response, settling your head back against his shoulder.

“Are you okay?” you asked. 

“I will be,” Levi said quietly.

You and Levi let hours pass you in silence, enjoying the warmth of each other’s company. Despite himself, Levi drifted into sleep as he leaned against your shoulder, his even breathing keeping you company through the night as you read a book brought to you by the nurse. 

***

At the end of two weeks after your release, you walked with Levi to your last check-up. You’d recovered well, although a queasiness settled into your gut most days after eating. Levi’s limp, which you’d only learned about on the walk home when he had to stop to rub his ankle, was better. Autumn was starting to inch into the air, bringing a crisp wind with it.

Erwin had given Levi the last two weeks off, and he’d spent the time taking care of you: cooking your favourite foods at your direction, making sure you took your medications, getting you out of the house for some fresh air each day. Now, as you found the odd golden or brick-red leaf floating to the ground, you realized you’d miss those days when you’d had Levi all to yourself. 

In the doctor’s office, you detailed how you’d been feeling and mentioned the nausea. Levi commented that he’d bought a mint tea to help, and the doctor wrote something in his notebook in response.

He listened to your lungs and heart again, and then to your stomach. You felt the queasiness swell as he pressed the instrument to your navel.

“Is everything okay?” you asked.

The doctor wrote something else in his notebook and smiled warmly.

“Yes, everything is just fine. You’ve recovered fully. You’re very lucky that the little one was unaffected by the infection.”

“I’m sorry, what?” your eyebrows pinched together. In the corner of your eye, you watched Levi stiffen, all of his attention fully focused on the doctor.

“You mean you didn’t— oh. Well.” The doctor straightened his coat with an air severity. “You’re pregnant, my dear. I’d say you’re about twelve weeks along by now.”

Your mouth hung open and your hands instinctively went to your stomach. Levi stood stock still, eyes wide, unmoving.

“I’m pregnant?” You rubbed your stomach through the cotton of your shirt. “But the infection–”

“Didn’t cause any harm, as far as I can see,” the doctor reiterated. “Very fortunate, honestly. But we’ll keep an eye on things as you progress and make sure everything’s okay.”

Silence filled the room. The doctor cleared his throat and reached to pat Levi on the shoulder.

“I’ll give you two some time. Congratulations, you two.”

When the door clicked shut behind the doctor, you turned to Levi and saw his face, wet with tears, mouth agape. His eyes locked with yours, and his mouth moved without sound.

“Levi?” you whispered, suddenly afraid.

The reply came in the form of Levi rushing to where you sat and sweeping you from the chair in a broad arch. You squealed in surprise at the motion. A laugh, tearful and joyous echoed into the room. Levi stood you in front of him and cupped your cheeks, a hopelessly gleeful grin on his face. He pressed a kiss to your cheek and another and another, small chuckles bursting like soap bubbles against your skin in between each one.

“A baby,” he said. He pulled you away from him and looked at your face, his gaze full of love. “We’re going to have a baby!”

“Yeah,” you said, awestruck. “I guess we are.”

“I can’t believe it,” you both said in unison, and then burst into a fit of giggles. 

Levi pulled you close, pressing his nose to your neck, kissing the soft skin beneath his lips.

“I’m the luckiest bastard in the whole Survey Corps,” he whispered into another kiss.

“You’re the luckiest father in the whole Survey Corps,” you corrected with a laugh.

“Yeah.” You felt tears soak into the collar of your shirt. “Yeah, I am.”

[comfortbucky]

Hey! Can i request a cold, lonely ex-hydra reader × bucky who falls in love with her. Adding some panic attacks and nightmares of the reader.

i love this idea!!! thank u for submitting🥰

𝗼𝗽𝗲𝗻 𝗶𝗻𝘃𝗶𝘁𝗲 ⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆ ｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚ ⋆

pairing: avenger!bucky x ex-HYDRA!fem!reader

tags: enemies(?) to lovers, angst (if u squint), soft!bucky

warnings: canon level violence, description of injuries, blood is mentioned, panic attacks, anxiety, nightmares

A/N: i just came up with a random name for the HYDRA leader the reader is after🤣 so just ,,, ignore // also!!!! i tried out a different writing style than what i’m used to! hope u don’t mind🥺 just been feeling like a lot of my writing is the same and wanted to try something new!!!

word count: 3.5k (this is so long LMAO sorry 😭 literally why am i like this)

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The suit that you once considered a second skin, now felt uncomfortable and constricting, like a python squeezing the life out of you. Although, it made sense since the very organization of the uniform you were wearing did exactly that.

HYDRA.

For so long you were just another mindless pawn to them, just doing without every actually thinking. Unlike your younger brother, Alex. They indoctrinated him as well, getting a hold of both of you from a young age, but he was there when Captain America took down S.H.I.E.L.D. and it changed his entire worldview. You found everything he said about “freedom” to be stupid, naive, and dangerous. And you would later prove yourself correct.

You pull yourself from your thoughts as a group of HYDRA soldiers walk past the shrubbery you hid behind. Quickly and quietly, you get up and join them as they march towards the HYDRA base. As soon as you get inside, you manage to slip away from the rest of the group to search for your target.

Since HYDRA took the possibility of you ever having a normal life away, as far as you were concerned, your only purpose in life was to kill the man who was at the center of it all, Viktor Cross. And after months of tracking him down, formulating the perfect plan, that’s exactly what you were going to do today.

You make your way towards one of the main lab facilities, gun in hand when you see several unconscious guards lying on the floor in front of you. Shifting your gaze up, you see that the door has been ripped open, grip marks on the sides.

This was not part of the plan.

As you squeeze through the open door and enter the lab, you come to a halt, frozen in shock. There’s your target, Viktor, shoved against the wall by none other than Captain America himself. You almost let out a chuckle in disbelief at the irony of the situation. Instead, you take a step forward, and the glass cracks beneath your feet, alerting the men of your presence.

Shit.

Immediately, both sets of eyes are on you. Viktor’s lips curve into a smirk as you make your way to them.

“Agent- Miss Y/N,” he corrects himself. “What a pleasant surprise.” You ignore him and look to address Steve Rogers, AKA Captain America.

“Let him go and give him to me,” you start, Steve eyeing you cautiously. “So I can kill him,” you snarl, quickly turning to Viktor to see that his smirk had been wiped off his face.

“Aren’t you HYDRA?” He questions, nodding to your suit and eliciting a cackle from Viktor.

“Not anymore,” you mumble, before lifting a leg to kick Steve in his side. You hit him across the face with the end of your gun for good measure. He stumbles over, giving you enough time to grab Viktor’s collar, before he falls to the floor, and slam him back against the wall. His eyes are full of desperation and you felt nothing but pure, burning rage. You shove the barrel of your gun under his chin and place your hand on the trigger.

“You were such a gifted agent, Y/N. Don’t throw away such potential, come back.”

“Go to hell.”

Before you could pull the trigger, a force propels you to the ground and you feel a sharp pain in your side. Silence and then ringing fills your eyes as you squint your eyes to try and visualize the situation. Your vision is blurry, but clear enough to clouds of smoke engulf Viktor’s figure as he escapes. A muffled voice from behind you speaks, but you can’t make out any of the words they’re saying. You look down to see red. Just crimson red, staining your abdomen. Hands land on your shoulders, shaking you gently as your vision fades to black.

Viktor is in front of you, the barrel of his gun directed right at your head. He smirks as he moves his hand to the trigger.

“Hail, HYDRA.”

A gunshot goes off, forcing you to shoot up in bed, gasping for air. As you start to regain your senses, you realize you’re surrounded by a group of strangers. Well, not complete strangers, the Avengers to be exact. Part of your job required you to study their files, learn everything about them. You could recite from memory where and when they were born, their greatest strengths and weaknesses. Suddenly, your side starts to burn with pain, and you carefully lean back in bed. There’s an array of wires and tubes connected to you and you hear the rhythmic beeping of various machines. You’re in a hospital, or some sort of medical facility.

“That, is exactly why I said we should use restraints.”

You’re staring at the ceiling when you hear Iron Man, AKA Tony Stark, speak.

“Tony, she lost a liter of blood, she’s not going anywhere.”

Steve appears in your view, looking down at you.

“Hey, you’re okay. You’re safe.”

You shift your gaze away from him. The last thing you expected to come out of this mission was to meet the Avengers, let alone them save you.

Steve sighs, “We’re not gonna hurt you. We wanna find Viktor too.”

There’s nothing he could say that could get you to speak. Your hatred for HYDRA didn’t mean you suddenly liked the Avengers. If anything, they were part of the problem too, so you stay silent.

“Told you, she’s not gonna talk,” Tony quips. From your research, you had come to learn that he was an arrogant man, and his statement only proved you right. “Maybe you should get Manchurian Candidate to come down, give her an ex-HYDRA buddy,” he says sarcastically.

Upon hearing “ex-HYDRA buddy,” you furrow your brows. Maybe it was the lack of blood in your body, but it took you a second to process his words and understand who he was referring to. Your eyes dart back to look at Steve’s but he’s gone.

“I’ll be back.” His voice trails off as he exits the room.

You’re still staring at the ceiling when you hear footsteps return and then several others departing.

There’s only one other person in the room beside you. Without even looking up, you already know who it is. His breathing was slow and steady until you started to shift in bed to reposition yourself. His breath hitched for a moment, before returning back to his normal breathing pattern.

“Killing him isn’t gonna make you feel better.” His comment makes you roll your eyes as you slowly sit up to look at him. There were no logical thoughts in your head, all you could feel was pain and fury. Anger swelled within you, your emotions boiling over.

“That’s rich, coming from the Fist of HYDRA,” you spat out. As soon as the words left your mouth, you felt your stomach drop. It was an unfamiliar feeling, one you hadn’t felt in a while. What was it? Regret?

Bucky’s face fell but he kept his eyes on you. It was a look that made you feel worse, worse than the searing pain in your side.

“I’m not a killer anymore,” he said in a tone so gentle, you felt another strange, new emotion but couldn’t quite label it. You quickly shift gears to avoid addressing the uncomfortable feelings swirling around in your stomach.

“Are you keeping me hostage to lure Viktor in? Because it's not going to work." Bucky shook his head.

"We want..." he trailed off, causing you to tilt your head in curiosity. “We need your help finding him.” You scoffed.

“What do I get out of it?” Bucky’s silence gave you your answer. Shaking your head, you start to disconnect yourself from the multitude of wires attached to you and get out of bed.

“You’re gonna hurt yourself,” he started, as you threw off your blanket and sat on the edge of the bed.

Standing up quickly, the blood from your head pooled in your legs, causing you to feel dizzy. Your head spun and your arms reached out for something, anything stable to grab onto. It was a metal hand. Despite it being cool to the touch, it ignited a heat to rise to your cheeks. You look down and mumble a thank you as Bucky helps you back into bed.

Letting out a sigh, you realize with the condition you’re in, you can’t leave. Definitely not well enough to go after Viktor alone. Shutting your eyes and pinching the bridge of your nose, you curse under your breath.

“Fine,” you finally speak, keeping your eyes closed. Bucky nods, even though you don’t see, and you hear him walk off.

After a couple days of rest, you were cleared by Bruce to get discharged. Viktor had gone deep in hiding, making your job to find him a lot harder. Tony had so graciously given you an extra room in the tower, right next to Bucky’s. He was probably the one person you saw the most, purely due to location, and the fact that everyone else cautiously kept their distance from you. It made sense though, since you rarely spoke to anyone and spent most of your time in the lab looking for any clues of Viktor’s location. When you weren’t searching for him, you were training in the gym. Bucky was there a lot too, both of you waking up at ungodly hours of the morning. No words were ever exchanged between the two of you, and yet, there was some level of comfort you felt being around him. Must’ve been an ex-HYDRA thing.

“What’s on your mind?” You walk over to Alex and sit on the edge of the bed next to him. He sighs.

“What if,” he starts, furrowing his brows. “What if freedom is good?” He speaks quietly, fearful of HYDRA listening in on your conversation.

It feels like you’ve got the wind knocked out of you.

“Alex,” you grab him by the shoulders. “What the hell are you talking about?” You’re searching his eyes, trying to understand what’s gotten into him.

“Captain America.” The biggest threat to HYDRA’s existence. He looks down at his hands. “He was willing to risk his life for it. It has to be worth something right?” Alex looks back up to you with a look in his eyes that you haven’t seen since you were children. Uncertainty. You sigh and pull him into your chest, stroking his hair.

“I don’t know, kiddo. Maybe.”

You wake up in a cold sweat, panting. Hot tears fall from the corners of your eyes. It’s the same dream you’ve had for the last week. Although, you wouldn’t consider it a dream necessarily, but it wasn’t a nightmare either. Just a bittersweet memory.

Bucky could tell that something was up with you for the past week. Despite having gone through a bit of therapy, Steve’s idea, the nightmares still came to him. So Bucky was already wide awake when he heard your weeping on the other side of the wall. It didn’t help that he was also a light sleeper with super-soldier hearing. He didn’t know what was causing you to be so upset, but he didn’t want to intrude and ask. Neither of you had spoken to the other since you first arrived.

But this night was different from the rest. Usually, you would flip endlessly through channels on ur TV until you eventually fell asleep, but it wasn’t working this time. There’s a tight pain in your chest and suddenly, you’re suffocating. You rip off your covers and spring out of bed, tripping on your blankets along the way. At this point, you don’t even register the pain of slamming down, face-first on the ground. Panic has taken over your body, tears now streaming down your face. You squeeze your eyes shut, hoping for relief.

He wasn’t planning on doing anything until he heard a loud thud from your room. Immediately, Bucky gets up and arrives at your door. It’s rude to just barge into someone’s room, his mom taught him that from a young age, so he settles on knocking. You don’t hear it though, the only sound you hear is the sound of your rapid breathing as you hyperventilate. Bucky hears it too and ultimately decides on inviting himself into your room.

“Y/N?”

You’re lying on your side, curled up in a fetal position with your hands covering your face, when Bucky opens the door. He quickly arrives by your side, kneeling beside you, as he examines you for any injuries.

“Are you hurt?”

You manage to shake your head in response, anxiety still flowing through your veins. Unfortunately, Bucky’s familiar with panic attacks, having had them himself. But he also knows that everyone deals with them a bit differently. Guess he did manage to learn some useful things from therapy.

“Can you try breathing with me?”

He starts to take deep breaths in and out until he sees you start to follow along with him, your hands still covering your face. There’s a part of you that feels stupid for keeping them there, but they help ground you, so you continue to shield your face. After what feels like an hour, but was probably only 10 minutes, your panic subsides. That’s when a wave of embarrassment hits you, realizing that it had been Bucky with you during your panic attack.

Slowly removing your hands from your face, you’re greeted by piercing blue eyes. You blink a couple times, realizing that Bucky had taken a spot on the ground, lying on his side to face you, his hands pressed together under his head like a pillow. He smiles and you feel warm. It’s terrifying, the new feelings that Bucky has caused you to feel and yet, you don’t mind.

“You feelin’ better?” You nod and smile back, something you haven’t genuinely done in a while.

“Thank you, Bucky.”

You stare at each other in silence, lying side by side. There’s no physical touch involved but somehow, this moment, it feels intimate. Bucky breaks the silence.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” He speaks in a voice so soft, it almost sounded like a whisper.

It might’ve been the fact that he just calmed you down from a panic attack, but as you looked into his eyes, you felt the walls you had built up for the last year slowly come crashing down.

“He killed my brother,” you reply, maintaining your eyes on Bucky. You searched his eyes for any fear or pity, but all you could find was a look of understanding. His eyes were starting to become a safe place for you.

“Alex was there when Steve took down S.H.I.E.L.D., HYDRA along with it. He wanted out, out of the organization.” Taking a deep breath, you continue. “Word got around about a “rat,” so I took the blame. Viktor was about to shoot me when Alex’s dumbass ran in front of me, sacrificing himself.” You let out a chuckle, your vision getting blurry as tears swelled in your eyes. “He was a goddamn idiot, but he also had a heart of gold.”

As you start to cry, Bucky hesitatingly extends an arm to hover over your body, trying to gauge your reaction. Physical touch was something he struggled with during the beginning of his recovery, and he didn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable. He’s reassured when you grab onto his shirt and pull yourself closer to him, and wraps an arm around you, his other hand softly stroking your head.

You hadn’t cried like this since Alex died, bottling up all of your emotions to focus on finding the man responsible for his death. But as you sobbed into Bucky’s chest, you realize that your love for Alex had transformed into an ugly, burning hatred for Viktor. He wouldn’t want this. You didn’t want it, at least, not anymore. The only thing you wanted was your brother back, and that was impossible.

Bucky held you in his arms until you fell asleep, listening to the sounds of your slow, rhythmic breathing, dozing off shortly after.

That night with Bucky had softened your cold, hard exterior that you initially presented yourself with. You would willingly spar with Nat in the training room and join the team for breakfast or dinner. Everyone noticed and, while at first thrown off by it, happily embraced it. Especially Bucky.

Initially, he got up to work out in the early hours of the morning as a habit. Now, he woke up to see you. His heart did flips in his chest every time he walked in the gym and saw you. Since that night, you started to acknowledge his presence, turning to smile and wave as he walked through the doors. It was something he looked forward to every day.

During the day, you were focused hard on tracking down Viktor and Bucky knew that. But he also knew he wanted to spend more time with you. He looked for reasons to enter the lab, whether it was offering snacks to you throughout the day or helping Bruce or, even Tony. Anything to see you again.

Bucky realized that there was a deeper, stronger emotion that he felt for you when he would wake up in the middle of the night from a nightmare. The first thing he thought about was you. Specifically, how you were the only thing that could possibly calm him down. Although he’d come in that night to help you with your panic attack, you ended up helping him as well. He hadn’t slept as soundly and peacefully as he did with you. And you hadn’t either. There were several nights when neither of you could sleep and ended up running into each other. It slowly became a routine that would begin in the kitchen, exchanging life stories, and end on the couch in the common area, entangled in each other’s arms.

Tonight you didn’t show up and Bucky panicked. He stared at the kitchen clock. It had been 20 minutes and you still hadn’t shown up. Bucky racked his brain for anything he could’ve done to scare you off, but came up with nothing. It wasn’t like you two had been officially together, Bucky had no idea what you were to each other. All he knew is that he wanted to be with you, always.

You were soundly asleep in bed, passing out as soon as your head hit the pillow. It was a particularly physically exhausting day for you, training with both Nat and Steve.

Bucky was so caught up with the thoughts racing through his head, he hadn’t noticed that his feet had taken him right to your door. He stands there for a moment, silently debating what to do. Grumbling under his breath, he musters up the courage to knock on your door. Right as he was about to turn away and shuffle off to his room, your door opens. You greet him with a yawn and a tired smile.

“Oh, hey Bucky.”

He looks at the bags under your eyes and feels instant regret wash over him, realizing that you weren’t avoiding him, but just getting some sleep.

“Sorry,” he looks down at his feet. You frown and place a hand on his cheek to lift his head up.

“Something wrong?” He avoids your gaze, partially because he’s embarrassed and partially because his cheeks were turning red because of your touch.

“No.” You cross your arms and let out a sigh.

“You’re a bad liar.” It’s his turn to sigh, as he scratches the back of his head.

“You didn’t come to the kitchen,” he lets out, in almost a whisper. It hits you. You were so tired, you had completely forgotten about your nightly tradition. “It’s stupid, sorry. I shouldn’t have woken you up," he mumbles. Bucky begins to walk off but you grab his hand. When he turns to look at you, his brows are raised at your touch.

As you start to speak, you pull him close, facing you. “It’s not stupid.” His hands move to hold your waist as yours move to wrap around his neck. You pause, an idea popping into your head. “I’m kind of tired from training today, wanna just come sleep with me?” He nods and you drag him to your bed, nestling into his arms as he holds you to his chest, his chin resting above your head. You tilt your head back to see him looking down at you. There’s a fluttering feeling in your chest and you smile.

“Just for future reference, you have an open invitation to cuddle with me, anytime.” Bucky chuckles at your offer.

“I’ll keep that in mind, doll.”

Bucky cups your face in his hand and you nuzzle your cheek in his palm. His eyes dart down to your lips before returning to your eyes.

Then, the most delicate, sweetest kiss you’ve ever received is on your lips.

You flutter your eyes open as you both pull apart. He quickly kisses your nose before pulling you back into his chest, speaking softly.

“And you have an open invitation to kiss me, anytime.”

[in-tua-deep]

Hufflepuff Five is so good! Are the Hargreeves lives as students as adventurous like the main crew from HP? What about the Ministry of Magic? Would they get involved if someone caught wind of the sibling’s powers that weren’t just magic?

Their lives are SO wack honestly like, they just vibe. They just are going through their magical youth being absolute feral children who don’t trust adults as far as they can throw them while trying to hide their weird funky powers and also ravenously going through magical feats like they’re going out of style

Luther is every sibling’s go-to practice partner because apparently durability extends to being like? Slightly magic resistant? Basically if you hit Luther with a spell it will only be like, maybe half power? So the siblings use him as a magical shield half the time and an experiment the other half and Luther just Suffers Through This until it all goes wrong and he ends up as a werewolf, oops

(But at least Ben is alive! Honestly the only reason Luther wasn’t straight up mauled to death was a combo of his durability, Ben’s proficiency in healing magic, and Ben managing to befriend the acromantulas)

(Luther eventually gets a sense of humor about this after long years of working on accepting himself and constantly threatens to bite his siblings or makes comments about them looking extra tasty when they irritate him)

Allison is a quidditch star, super popular and athletic as all hell. She probably ends up being the Slytherin team captain, honestly. Allison is all glamor and charisma and in her later years of hogwarts has an absolute blast. Allison is very much functional passing so she’s usually the front man to get the professors off their backs, but she also is the front man for a lot of the shit that the family sell for extra spending money. Five and Ben might make potions, but Allison rules the underground black market in slytherin with an iron fist (which gets them into shenanigans involving other kids who Owe Debts)

Diego is on the gryffindor quidditch team and so him and Allison are constantly at each other’s throats on the pitch (Allison sometimes rumors him during matches when she gets within earshot which makes all of the siblings yell at him but she maintains that he gets to use his stupid powers to score points so she should get to as well). Diego gets roped into everything because he’s super soft. He starts a lot of fights because he has vigilante genes so he serves a lot of detentions. His house tolerates him losing them points because the man is a wizard with a quaffle

(Diego and Allison actually practice a lot together, which their respective teams are like HMMMM over but they’re siblings and slytherin knows that Allison would never hesitate to knock Diego off his broom and wave cheerily as he falls to his death, and gryffindor is aware that Diego can, should, and must throw a ball directly at Allison’s dumb face if she gets too close to him because of the Cain Instinct)

(Honestly Allison and Diego do a LOT for interhouse unity, showing that you can still be ride or die for each other while also wanting greatly to kill each other uwu)

Ben is too independent for his own good, which is what gets him into trouble. He likes gardening, and he likes herbs, and sometimes he’s just GOTTA go into the forbidden forest on a full moon to gather these very specific ingredients, c’mon. He also just. Likes spending time in the forbidden forest. He’s Hagrid’s favorite student because he doesn’t bat an eye at all the weird magical creatures, bc homeboy got an eldritch horror in his navel. Ben makes friends with the acromantulas (who have a healthy respect for him after the Horror ate a few of them), patiently avoids the centaurs, and bribes the pixies into giving him their shed wings through liberal application of jam stolen from the Hogwarts kitchens. 

You know what Allison is functional passing and Ben is distinguished passing, all their teachers assume that Ben is the most put together of them but they’re WRONG. They haven’t seen Ben at two in the morning yanking Vanya out of ben because if they don’t break into greenhouse four and help those poor fucking plants the first years are tending to they’re all going to DIE and that’s not fair??? ben is single handedly going to save all those poor plants (and all those first year’s grades)

Vanya is just VIBING, he ends up coming out as trans in fourth year and gets to be roommates with Ben which is pretty sweet. If only Ben didn’t drag him into shenanigans?? All the teachers are like “ah yes Vanya, such a quiet boy not like his siblings at all” but Vanya can will should and must climb onto the roof of the astronomy tower to play his violin because He Just Likes To Be Tall. Vanya once punched a snobby ravenclaw kid in the nose and then stared them down saying “the teachers will never believe you.”

Vanya steals Luther to practice his powers with in unused classrooms the most?? he’s durable. he’ll be fine if Vanya blasts him into a wall with his powers lol

Vanya’s solution to all their problems is “do you want me to blow it up with my powers?” or “do you want me to kill them for you?” 

(All of the siblings now refuse to duel with Vanya except for Luther bc Vanya is RUTHLESS. He WILL murder his siblings (almost) given the chance. They’re all so lucky that Ben is so good at healing and carries extra vials of healing potions on his person otherwise Madame Pomfrey would be VERY CONCERNED)

Five and Klaus probably get into the most shenanigans? Klaus gets less and less afraid of ghosts the more he runs into nice ones like Fred Weasley. Fred also lovingly nurtures Klaus’s absolutely terrible sense of humor and encourages him to prank the whole school. Klaus knows ALL the secret passageways thanks to Fred, a previous owner of the Maurauder’s map, so he’s just like. Constantly in the walls. He once dropped out of the ceiling to get to transfiguration in time and nobody even commented on it because Klaus is just Like That.

(A few people see Klaus’s boney elbows and knobbley knees and thinks he’s a good target for bullying just because he’s a slytherin and interhouse awfulness absolutely it at an all time high so recently after the war. YEAH his siblings step in and put the fear of god into any bullies, but Klaus fights like a cornered raccoon.)

Five is just way too smart and curious for his own good. He likes to poke around, figure things out, and also make money. Five does people’s homework, charges them for potions or rune work, tutors, dismantles shit in the chamber of secrets, ALSO explores the secret passageways (and finds some that weren’t on the map), is lovingly bullied into Friendship Activities with his housemates, breaks into the other houses’s common rooms for funsies, and keeps getting fed by the house elves who found out he can ‘apparate’ like them (without a wand) and have apparently adopted him against his will

Five is the sibling who has his fingers in like. ALL the pies. and just constantly pops up and drags them into things. Five will be helping Klaus with potions homework then glance up and tell Diego he’s cashing in the favor he’s owed for carving runes into Diego’s knives and that Diego now gets to break into Douglas Eddington’s room to steal back Lana Delwich’s diary so that Five can trade it to Lana for her rare Solomon Babik chocolate frog card which Five can give to Barnaby Beeson in exchange for a Large Distraction of Five’s Choice and a sketchy book on ward breaking which Five needs so he can break into the headmaster’s office to get a confiscated dark magic book that has some information Five needs to alter a potion that he’s probably going to make Luther drink later

Five is the sibling who is like “Ugh, I thought I was trading for some nundu ingredients but now i have a Whole Baby Nundu in the basement :/”

Which, of course, Klaus wants to keep despite the poison breath.

“This is literally one of the most dangerous magical creatures, we are not keeping it.” Luther says, unimpressed. However, he definitely has it cradled in his arms and makes kissy faces at it when he thinks no one is looking. (Apparently baby toxic nundu breath only makes Luther sneeze, so there’s that?)

“If you guys are arrested for smuggling I am not bailing you out.” Is Allison’s only decree about the matter.

Honestly I wouldn’t be shocked if someone DID eventually find out about one of the siblings’ powers - however, they would come to entirely the wrong conclusion about them?? Because this is a world of MAGIC and so everything magical has to have a magical explanation, right???

Luther is durable as all fuck???? Uhhhhh maybe he has some like. Troll blood or giant blood something back in his family line, obviously not something he would ever want the world to know about bc of species-ism

Allison can make you do whatever you want with her words????? Maybe she’s part veela? With that charm appeal?

Five is doing. Wandless apparation?? I mean, that’s rare as FUCK but wandless magic is,,, grudgingly accepted though it’s usually only used for small or very familiar spells and not usually something as complex as apparation but OKAY just sit him down and forbid him from doing it anymore bc boy boutta be SPLICED or some shit

Klaus can. Klaus can talk to ghosts. Who are not full ghosts. Hmm. huh. Maybe it’s?? A family ability??? a super rare one? like being a metamorphagus? (What the fuck??????? what the FUCK???????)

Primarily the kids started off paranoid because they believed that their abilities indicated that they weren’t the same type of magic, and they didn’t want to be returned to their father, and then it progressed into “these abilities might make people scared of us (looking at you allison, with your imperius-ass abilites)” or “we can’t afford that kind of scrutiny or curiosity about our powers (they might find out luther is a werewolf or something idk)” and “if we are ‘desirable’ children with ‘rare abilities’ the government might try to split us up and adopt us into weird pureblood families or something OR might try to lock us up (like where would they even put Ben??)”

honestly if ben ever got found out he’d just deadpan “it’s a curse, hand me the black wormroot would you?” and be like “oh yeah it’s under control i just go vibe in the woods every so often and rip up a tree or something. I think the horror wants to be the whomping willow when it grows up actually, so just don’t get too close when i’m in the horror zone. if you can live with a murder tree on campus you can live with me on campus”

someone sees vanya fuck something up with his powers and is like ???? and Vanya is just like “accidental magic lol” 

“aren’t you... a bit... old for accidental magic...”

“accidental. magic.”

[yurtletheturtlehenderson]

COSMIC - S3:E4; Chapter Four, The Sauna Test - [Pt. 5 - FINAL]

A Will Byers x Reader Series

𝘔𝘪𝘬𝘦, 𝘓𝘶𝘤𝘢𝘴, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘞𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘳𝘶𝘪𝘵 𝘌𝘭, 𝘔𝘢𝘹 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘠/𝘯 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘱 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘯 𝘸𝘩𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘔𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘍𝘭𝘢𝘺𝘦𝘳'𝘴 𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘪𝘴 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘦 𝘙𝘰𝘣𝘪𝘯, 𝘚𝘵𝘦𝘷𝘦, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘋𝘶𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘯 𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘳𝘶𝘪𝘵 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘯𝘦𝘢𝘬 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘓𝘺𝘯𝘹.

📝: you have... NO IDEA how long i have been sitting on this one. Just... wow okay. And this is just the beginning, wait till you see the cabin scene 👀 Edit: tell me why I had the main chorus of Timber Feat. Ke$ha in my head on infinite loop while writing the fight scene 🤦‍♀️ LMAO

⚠️: asphyxiation [aka suffocation], several mentions of blood, and graphic (?) depictions of violence throughout. Also, long chapter

||𝟑𝐑𝐃 𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍 𝐏𝐎𝐕||

"MAX! LET ME OUT OF HERE!"

Everyone watched stilled, with pounding hearts as Billy's billowing cries echoed out across the weight room. No one more so than Max. He had barely taken his eyes off of her and his voice fell into a weakened plea.

"Let me out,"

And then it was gone. Replaced with a malice-filled hiss that was beginning to feel a little too familiar for their liking. One by one his eyes flicker between the party members with a twitch in his eye as he began to shift, eyes darting past their shoulders and sweeping the room before his next glare.

"You kids," he pants, each breath like swallowing smoke. "you think..." he was swallowing embers. "this is funny?"

Mike and Lucas share a nervous glance.

Another heaving breath, the flames now licking his lungs.

"You kids think this is some kind of sick prank, huh?" With a snarl, he rears his head back and spits on the glass. "YOU LITTLE SHITS THINK THIS IS FUNNY?!"

Anxiously, Max eyes Will from where he stands beside El and he meets her gaze. The two seem to share the same thought. It was working.

But the sauna's prisoner had caught on, and as the fire was rekindled in his veins, he shifted nervously again; eyes darting once more around the room before landing on the two.

"OPEN THE DOOR!" They all flinch when he throws himself against the window in a fury. He was growing more frantic. And he wasn't stopping. "OPEN THE DOOR! OPEN THE DOOR!" He pressed his nose against the glass, showcasing his darkening eyes. "OPEN THE GODDAMN DOOR!"

The fire was now ablaze, the blood in his veins felt as if it was actually boiling, cooking him from the inside out and he finally collapsed on the sauna floor with a groan. Will took that as his cue and raced to the thermometer on the wall where the needle rested at the end.

"We're at two-twenty,"

When he returned to El's side, a great wail reverberates from within the sauna followed by a great many thumps.

"It's not my fault," he weeps, catching them all by surprise. "It's not my fault, it's not my fault, Max. I promise it's not my fault."

With a pounding and aching heart, Max crept towards the sauna door. Many eyes darted after her, fearfully, dealing between her and the only barrier protecting her from what lay inside.

"What's not your fault, Billy?" She asks.

When she peers behind the foggy glass, her heart threatens to split in two; he sits before her on the tile floor, beads of sweat blending with his tears and his hands glued together in plea as he looks up at her.

"I've done things, Max," he sobs, his voice threatening to break. "Really b... bad things and I didn't mean to."

As Billy peers up at his sister now, he can feel himself slipping again. He tries so hard to hold onto that sliver of himself, drifting away into the dark. His hands wring together as he pleads, his nails raking into his skin to stop himself - to stop Him - from winning.

His sanity was slipping and everything in him was screaming for him to do violent, inhumane things to the girl before him but he fought it. Billy knew he didn't have much time, and it was getting harder to think. And Billy spat the words from his tongue before he considers the repercussions from the shadow.

"He made me do it,"

Max was certain she knew the answer now. She knew it even as she stood in the living room facing her brother just twenty-four hours ago. But she had let herself believe the tempting lie over the bitter truth that the Shadow Monster had not gotten Billy. But she knew she had to. And so she asked.

"Who made you do it?"

Fear flashed in his eyes as he wept. He looked as something was trying to stop him, and Max knew very well something was, but he managed the words anyway; unknown to all, his final warning. The words that confirmed all their darkest fears and chilled their bones.

"I don't know, it was like a shadow. A giant shadow,"

Y/n's heart leaps into her throat, and her brows knit together in a curious frown when she sees El and Will meet eyes in matching grave expressions. They share a knowing look and nod, and silently they form a wall, herding Y/n behind them. It was likely they had made a prior agreement, she realizes, but her worries still remained on her other best friend inches from the glass.

"Please, Max," Billy weeps.

"What did he make you do?" Max asks through a wavering voice.

"It's not my fault," He cries suddenly, sinking into the sauna bench. "okay, Max?! Please! Please!"

At the sound of his broken cries, Max's eyes squeeze shut, and hot tears slide down her cheeks as she faces the small window. Her heart is torn, but she tries to remain strong.

"Please, believe me, Max! I tried to stop him, okay? I did."

He's trying even now, but the darkness is closing in. Her tearful face is blurring from his vision and he's losing the grip on his body without realizing it. He can already feel the shadow breaking free from his hold when his arm creeps across the tile floor without his permission.

"Please, believe me, Max. Please believe me,"

Swallowing the lump in her throat, she reaches out to Billy; her hand on the glass and speaks through her breaking voice.

"Billy, it's gonna be okay,"

The darkness was spreading to his vision, closing in on his sister and he knew he had only moments. They had only moments. There was no telling when the shadow would let him resurface. As Billy disappeared, he spoke what little warning he could before the shadow stole his voice.

"Max please..." -get away, his mind screams. But the words didn't come. Go away. Get out while you can.

She hadn't heard him. It was too late. The hand that lied hidden beneath the sauna bench, had already found a weapon.

"It's gonna be okay, we want to help you," Max swears through stinging tears.

His fingers curl around the broken and jagged tile.

"We want to help you. You just have to talk to us, okay? You have to talk us."

All too well indeed. He felt it even now.

Will's eyes had never left the sauna door, drilling holes through the glass even when the man had collapsed to the ground. Billy's haunted cries had reached Will in a way it never could the others. He knew the feeling all too well.

An unnatural chill zapped the air despite the muggy atmosphere and his whole body seized up. His hair stood on end and the skin over his body tightened, goosebumps breaking out out all over his skin.

He's activated.

-"What?"

-"What?"

Will has little time to look at Mike and Y/n and realize he had uttered the words aloud before looking back to Max.

"Max, get away from the door," he cautions.

Taken by surprise at his sudden request, Max hesitates. "What?"

"GET AWAY FROM FROM THE DOOR! NOW!"

Max had barely heeded Will's warning when the glass burst inches from her face as Billy hurled his arm through the window. El jumped back, sweeping both her arms in an effort to protect her friends. And with miraculous timing, Max had dove to the left just in time to escape the confetti of glass shards but her arm had not been so lucky.

While he had dropped his tile shard his hand had caught her bandaged forearm in his iron grasp and yanked. She yelped in pain, using the traction of her shoes against the linoleum to keep herself away.

"LET ME OUT, YOU BITCH!" He howls, tugging her arm as she attempts to pry and claw her way free. "I'LL FUCKING GUT YOU!"

"NO!" Came the sudden angered cry of Y/n Henderson as she forcibly broke free from the wall El and Will had created. She pushed their shoulders aside and sprinted forward, throwing her hand out before her. "LET HER GO!"

A powerful blasts burst forth from her palm and Billy cried out, yanking his hand back. He withered for only a moment, a loud hissing breath sucked in from between his clenched teeth as he visibly shook in anger. His hair was still dripping and it hung like a dark curtain over his eyes, but she could see it - they all could. The whites of his eyes were harder and harder to see as he looked upon his festering arm.

Max had scrambled away from the wall, back into the safety of El and Y/n's protection but Y/n didn't flinch.

He was pissed, but so was she.

In an instant, he throws his head up to look at her, his drenched curls landing on top of his head and draping over his seething face. His darkened eyes locked on her, his gritted teeth clenched so hard his entire body shook with fury. His expression finally matched his eyes from the previous night and confirmed to Y/n it had been the Mind Flayer to have spoken to her at Heather's. Never Billy.

What followed next, had unfolded all at once.

His screams return and he bangs his fist against the door once before yanking out the lead pipe and chucking it at Y/n.

She ducks just in time, and El swipes it out of the way, sending it flying into the wall with the flick of her head before it could hurt any of the others. And Lucas releases the pull on his wrist rocket he had trained on the man since he scrambled to load it when the glass first broke.

With an audible snap, the ammo was released and sent flying into its target; crashing into Billy's forehead.

A second time he was sent tumbling to the sauna floor, disappearing from their view with an even louder thump.

"Y/n, come on!" Lucas cried.

She wasted no time, scurrying back to the safety of her friends who engulfed her into their surrounding figures. Their heads all snap towards the ceilings when the hum of the lights grow stronger and everything begins to flicker.

Billy's insides churn with a disgruntled choke, his mouth spitting out fluids as he comes to. With a groan, his body spits and writhes on the floor. The icy storm in his veins spreading. And festering.

Joined shoulder to shoulder, the huddled party backed up in one circle. Each of them faced away from one another, looking around worriedly as the rows of florescent lights flicker violently above them. They all close in on Y/n in a protective stance.

Billy's body twisted and thrashed on the tile floor as he attempted to heave himself up to his feet. The grip of the Mind Flayer had broken free from the barriers of his mind and was coursing all throughout his body, the dark mass staining the very blood in his veins and poisoning his system. Dark lesions broke out all over his back and arms, and black veins rippled out under his skin, all across his body as he clutched the wall. Throwing back his head, Billy released an inhuman, agonized wail before charging for the door.

A second time they all jumped, and a second time El's arms swept out to protect her friends - finally including her Max. Their horror-stricken eyes were fixed on the door as Will inched closer to Y/n, and Max spoke through a fearful waver.

"He can't get out, can he?" She frets as he barrels into the door a second time, the chains testing the pipe anchored to the wall.

Fear gripped his heart and Lucas shook his head, voice filled with doubt in his own words. "No way. No. Way,"

"Y/n, get back," El orders in a flat voice, her tilted head unblinking on the door. "Go with Will."

Y/n gawked over El's shoulder, frantically looking between the door, her best friend, and a pleading Will who grabbed for her hand.

"What? No! No, bullshit! We agreed!"

"Y/n, come on," Will urged, tugging a little harder on her hand.

It grew hot under his touch and she ripped it from his grasp. "No. I need to do this," Y/n cried, her head whipping back and forth between her boyfriend and the fraying thread that was the bowing sauna pipe; the last defense holding back the Mind Flayer's newest host.

The door stopped moving and one split, heart-stopping moment a thunderous cry barreled out deep from within Billy's chest.

The door was thrown open, the pipe bursting from the wall and expelling puffs of steam as Billy tumbled through the open door. The Party jumped back in shrieks, El on the front lines pushing everyone behind her, even still.

With a lumbering breath, the fluorescents still flickering madly above them, Billy rose to his feet to meet eye to eye with the wrong girl. With a fear-inducing glare and an overpowering sense of protectiveness, El had forcibly barricaded herself in between the Mind Flayer and her best friend.

He curled back his teeth, a growl growing in the back of his throat. He was ready to wring her neck but she simply rose a single hand in the air, and the nearest barbell rose with it. In the blink of an eye, Billy was pinned against the brick wall by his neck, gasping for breath.

Everyone watched on in a mixture of shock and awe as El threw another arm up, and the weights sunk deeper into the brick, crumbling them near his head. She was panting for breath, nose dripping with blood but she was determined.

And she wasn't the only one.

"Y/n-!"

But she ignored the Party's cries, as well as the pleas in her gut screaming for her to turn tail and run. But she couldn't stand by and do nothing as El faced it all alone - nor could she sit still when she saw the very monster she had faced the prior year, wearing the very face that plagued her dreams in her last sleep. Y/n Henderson didn't walk away. She couldn't.

Y/n stormed to El's side, throwing her arms up in sync with two large and billowing waves of heat that filled the entire room. Billy howled as the heat consumed him completely, the black veins festering underneath his skin. Across the sauna, Mike and Will watch on in a mixture of awe and worry as El and Y/n stand side by side, their arms extended as they fight with great strain and their guttural cries begin to blend.

Tears pricked Will's eyes as he watched the scene unfold, frightened not only for Y/n's life but El's. He truly feared what the Mind Flayer might be capable of in someone like Billy Hargrove. And already he had every right to be.

What came next stole the breath right out of his chest.

With a husky grunt and a terrifying spur of adrenaline, Billy heaved and broke El's telepathic hold, sending the barbell flying for their heads. With matching screams, they throw themselves to the floor, avoiding the otherwise inevitable blunt force trauma by a hair's width. He stormed to their bodies piled together on the floor. Learning his lesson and counting every precious second, Billy grabs a fist full of El's hair and drags her to her feet and off of Y/n's body. She yelps out in pain, clawing to get free but he had already thrown her into the wall she had just pinned him to. Her head collided with the brick and she sunk to the floor, fighting to keep her eyes open and vision clear but she was losing her battle.

Mike and the others cried out to her, unable to reach her but her blurring vision was fixed on the sight of Billy closing in on Y/n's body. She threw her arms up with a vengeful grunt, her skin beginning to glow. The ground begins to shake and all their hopes rise with Y/n as pulls herself onto one wobbly knee. The spidery veins adorned her eyes, lips, and ears, heat pulsing from her palms as her light began to illuminate the weight room.

And like a candle's flame, it was extinguished under Billy's hand.

Her grunts died in her throat when his hand encircled her throat, cutting off all her air. What strength he possessed as Billy Hargrove had doubled with the Mind Flayer and lifted the young girl above his head with ease.

Y/n tried crying for help but her voice was lodged in her throat with the rest of her breath, leaving her no choice but to claw at Billy's arms as she fought for air and freedom. Her legs were finally listening to her brain's signals, kicking and squirming as she tried to reach him or even the ground but they never did, no matter how close she got. Just as she had foreseen.

"Y/N!" The others cried.

She gasped and choked for breath, any whisp of air she could possibly manage between his fingers as she tried to conjure a fight, but she was losing concentration. She was losing air.

All she saw beside the white spots swallowing her vision were the seething eyes of the Mind Flayer peering up at her. And as he watched the life drain from her eyes, he hissed to the one he had been waiting in agony for all these months his final greeting.

"You."

Y/n could barely hear him over the cries of her frantic friends, nor could she barely register the repetitive snap of Lucas's wrist rocket as he sent rocks flying into Billy. But this time, Billy resisted. Out of spite, or with the aid of the Mind Flayer's mutation, none of them knew but with El out cold on the floor and unreachable without crossing through Billy, little options were left.

And Lucas was already running low.

Y/n's hands latched onto Billy's wrist, at first, seemingly trying to pry herself away as she sucked in as much air as she could capture. And as her bulging eyes began to flutter, she manages to speak through choking, gasping breaths.

"Fuck... you."

Latched hands had locked on and began to glow and Billy's eyes fell to her grip. The skin beneath her palms began to sizzle and a agonized cry grew deep within Billy at her searing touch. And yet still he held, but the same could not be said for Y/n. Like El, she was fighting to remain conscious.

And Lucas had run out of ammo.

Lucas and Will seemed to share the same thought as everything had unfolded within an instant. And with an angered cry, Will charged forward just as Lucas chucked his metal wrist rocket at Billy's head.

His grip still iron clad over Y/n's throat, Billy's head whipped to the party as fast as his other hand stopped in front of his face, catching the wrist rocket mid-air. And just in time for Will to reach him. Billy reared his arm back and smacked the butt end of the wrist rocket into the boy's head, knocking him to the ground without ever blinking.

"Will!"

Those that remained stood back, watching terror-stricken as Y/n begins to grow limp, her eyes rolling back in her head.

Tears prick Mike's eyes as the sights surrounding him become too much; one of his best friends dying before his eyes, and the two people he had probably loved most in the world, fading on the floor. And he snaps into action.

He looks around wildly, thanking whatever force was out there that the burst pipe from the sauna was near his feet. He picked it up in an instant, charging forward with a sudden surge of adrenaline, and crashed it into Billy's skull.

Y/n dropped to the floor, gasping for breath as she rolled away from Billy's fallen body. Mike towered over the man as Y/n came to, a vengeful look in his eyes as he swung the pipe back above his head.

"GO TO HELL YOU PIECE OF SHIT!"

With all the force he could possibly muster, Mike threw the pipe down at Billy's back but it had stopped inches from his face. In the blink of an eye, Billy had turned, catching it in his single fist with as much ease as the wrist rocket.

Mike gasped in horror as Billy seethes up at him, much too frightened to even flicker to the sight of Y/n wobbling up onto her hands and knees and risk giving her away. She was coughing on every wheezing breath, her lungs and throat burning but she still felt a spark big enough to hold onto.

Will had just started to come to, the sideways vision of the weight room floor showing to him two things: Billy chucking the pipe against the wall with an earsplitting clang and Y/n's heaving chest swallowing desperate, gulping breaths, the blood steadily draining from her face.

He tried to move to her, but his limbs were heavy. All he managed to do was hoist himself up onto his arms as tears fell from his eyes, slowly pulling himself along as the world began to steady. But he never reaches her in time. Billy had begun to rise, and yet the beginnings of a smug smile curled Will's lips as his eyes trailed her across the room.

Anger battled impatience within the Mind Flayer at the unrelenting children, but killing this one - the Wheeler boy - would be easy. At least, it would have been had it not been for the young girl emerging with the two hot blasts of searing heat raining down upon his exposed chest as Y/n unleashed her fury upon him.

A primal scream grew from deep within her belly, ripping up her throat as she circled back around to face him, arms outstretched before her in two taut claws. What little space he had created from himself and the weight room floor had vanished as the blasts intensified with her screams.

The fluorescent lights about their heads were flashing violently now, enunciating the matching veins each opponent bore. The buzzing of the lights was nearly as loud as the rumble of the shaking room and the cracking of the tile that sounded eerily like thunder. The two blurring bursts of energy were pouring from her palms and pinning Billy into the tile so hard the tile floor cracked beneath him.

His screams blended with hers, the light pouring from her skin illuminating his agonized face and she pushed harder. her arms dug closer to his chest and the deep and inhuman voice returned; the voice of the Mind Flayer cried out in pain.

Y/n felt the sudden force of Billy's untouched leg sweep under her own, knocking her off her feet. The Mind Flayer coughed and hacked once more, and threw himself over her as she lied on her back. His hands were around her throat again, yanking her up before slamming her back into the ground.

With the strobing, flickering lights disorienting their already obscured vision the others could barely make out Billy hunched over something on the floor. His haunched, vein painted back nearly in ribbons as blood drizzled down his back like rain on a window. It didn't take them long to put together the pieces, Y/n's name on their weeping tongues as Billy repeatedly threw her back into the tile until she steadily lost consciousness. Finally, after one last gust of power, he thrust her into the tile and releasing her throat. But only to raise one darkening, blistering fist into the air, ready to strike...

Horrified screams tore from their throats, each of them prepared to tackle Billy. Will had finally stumbled to his feet for the first time without falling, ready to do just that but something had stopped him.

Billy froze, growing horrified as he himself began to choke.

A body hidden away in the shadows that had finally fought her way back into consciousness for the sake of her loved ones

There she was in all her glory.

El, rising to her wobbling knees; the sound of Y/n's broken cries and gasping pleas for help that broke through her subconscious mind had been the final push of adrenaline she needed.

Like Y/n, El's grew from deep within as she pulled herself to her feet, arms outstretched. Steadily, Billy's body was pulled off of Y/n's until even his toes had left the ground. He was pulled far away from the young girl's body as El circled him, once again placing herself in between the Mind Flayer and the girl she couldn't lose.

Will took the advantage El had bought for them and closed the remaining gap, collapsing at Y/n's side. He breathed a sigh at unimaginable relief when he saw her chest moving with labored breaths. She was alive. Hoisting Y/n's bloodied head into his folded legs, he returned his worried sights to El just in time to see her give a great roar, hurling her clawed hands to the side and watching as Billy was thrown through the brick wall in an explosion of dust.

El's knees buckled beneath her, and she collapsed to the ground in exhaustion beside Y/n's limp body. Mike rushed to her side, steadying her arms and looking on with pooling eyes at his waking friend.

Y/n lays in Will's arms on the grounds of the cracked and broken sauna floor, her bloodshot eyes popping out of her skull as she coughs and chokes on what air she hopes to regain. Strenuous marks circle her throat from where she was previously held captive, and specks of blood drip from the back of her skull onto Will's leg. The others begin to crowd around in worry and fear as they jump in to help.

Will cradles her head softly, brushing away the stray hairs from her face as he weeps, desperately wanting to ease her pain though he does not know how. He's doomed to watch her lay suffering, her wails of anguish are strained and hoarse from the Mind Flayer's grip. A similar, deathly grip squeezed the hearts of the rest as they watched her suffer.

With flooded eyes, Will leans down and plants a shaky kiss on her forehead before resting his own against it. Her left hand comes to wrap around his wrist as it still holds her head in place. He breaks away to examine her once more, the puffiness of her swollen cheeks had already subsided a great deal but it was clear she was still in pain. Trembling, she looks out to each of them, her eyes watery and thankful. Reaching out her other hand, it finds El's, and they both let out a sob knowing the other was okay. Each sniffle tore right through his heart, and as if asking for help he looks up at his friends hoping for answers.

But they all stare at her, glassy-eyed and frozen, and that's when it dawns on them; Billy. Each of them, Will included, look frantically to the broken brick wall through which he was thrown. Everyone apart from the young couple on the ground rushed to see the young man, singed and bleeding making his escape into the trees far across the field and into the squalling storm.

Will's gaze is torn back to his lap when he feels Y/n begin to rise. Eagerly, and without hesitation, he helps Y/n to sit up. Tracks of thick tears stream down her face, cleaning her bloodied and dirtied cheeks in their path. His hand finds a home on her back, reflexively trying to run soothing circles into her muscles but she immediately whimpers, flinching. Her back had taken most of the damage, which he realized was preferable to her skull. But still, a plethora of apologies spilled from his lips, his eyes are filled with nothing but worry and heartbreak.

Y/n takes a moment to steady herself, the blood rushing to her head combined with the powerful forces inside her still hard at work as they desperately try to repair the gash in her head. She tries to smile, silently telling him it was okay, but it hardly showed. But Will still knew.

As she attempts to stand - one arm hooked around his shoulder, the other over Lucas's - the energy drains from her quicker than anything she had felt in a long while and when she blinks she realises she is resting her head on Will's shoulder.

Her sobs are weak and drawn out in her taxed state, yet they still demand to be heard even buried in Will's chest. The pain of seeing her this way makes him feel as if he has been torn in two, and yet worse, he knows it's dwarfed in comparison to whatever she is enduring. All he can do is hold her close, and hold her gently, assuring her safety.

Will wishes more than anything to take her pain away, and how cruel of fate to deprive him of this.

With the aid of Will and Lucas, Y/n hobbled to the gaping hole in the brick where Billy had disappeared. Her shoulders rose and fell as she attempted even know to even her breathing, her haunted glare stretching out across the dark and stormy night where the Mind Flayer had made his second escape.

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

"The girl, was it her?"

Heather's voice cuts through the silence is Brimborne as she sat opposite Billy.

"Yes," he answers with a hiss, eyes darting to the handprints seared into his skin. "Yes it was her, and she knows now. She knows about me. They both do."

Heather's hand and the cool wet handkerchief it holds reaches for his blistered wrists but finds her own entrapped in an instant but neither of them blink.

"She could have killed me." He asserted.

"Yes," she says. "But not us."

She looks out onto the darkened sea of the warehouse, where the very rot of the Mind Flayer had seeded and spread and multiplied. And the numbers were still climbing. Waiting, out in the shadows for their noble sacrifice to the monster of flesh bone known as the Mind Flayer.

Or more specifically, the Mind Flayer's army.

"Not us."

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Balan Wonderworld Review: Favorite Costumes Part 2

Before we get started, I like to say something. I ABSOLUTELY DESPISE TIM TRAPS. If you don't know, there is a specific plant that tends to appear in certain levels called Tim Traps. A carnivorous orange flower that's favorite meal is TIMS. If you kick the plants, you can free your Trapped Tim or prevent one from getting trapped for a short period of time. Problem is if the Tim is trapped for too long, your baby is gone for good. Chapter 3 and Chapter 5's Act 3 are loaded with these annoying plants. To the point if I can't find the trapped Tims, I exit out of the game just to save my poor fluffballs. Ain't sacrificing my little birds for Drops and Trophies! Mini rant over.

Rules are the same as before. I'd be ranking both a Common Costume and Rare Costume. Common Costumes are easily to find whether it be in multiple levels and Rare Costumes are those that rarely appear or are difficult to get.

I'll be doing my favorite Secret Costume after playing all Act 3s for each chapter. Now let's begin.

Chapter 7

Common Costume- Floaty Flower

The Flower Fairy and greatest glider found in the main story. Floaty Flower is a costume that can be found in the Act 1, 2 and the Boss Act, it offers a slower descent but faster movement than the hover for Soaring Sheep.

I love this costume not for its aesthetic but a cute Easter Egg I found in Chapter 7 Act 1. On rare occasions, this costume is an NPC that actually flirts with you! Some NPCs in certain chapters act differently from their standard counterpart. They often try to disguise themselves or runaway. Catching them grants you a free costume of the one you caught.

Floaty Flower will appear and follow you, similar to a shy school girl with a crush. If you go to her, she will run which is a similar action to any shy person getting approached by their crush. Also... I think there is some lore hidden in this one that might be quite sad if it's directly linked to Cal, the human whose heart created this particular world. If so then... OOF.

Rare Costume - Paladin Puncher

A knight fights with his fists than a sword. This costume can be found in Act 2 and is a stronger version of the Pumpkin Puncher that can break iron or ice blocks. He's a bit slower than his Chapter 6 counterpart but perfect breaking the more blocks and defeating spiky enemies.

I also love the fact this costume goes against the traditional tools of a knight. Knights often fight using swords, shields, lances and rare occasions bows or axes. If you give me one who PUNCHES or straight uses martial arts to fight then you got my vote in seconds.

Chapter 8

Common Costume - Snow Fairy

Elegant dancer of ice and snow. The Snow Fairy costume allows the wearer to walk on air for a short period of time and can in found in Act 1 and Act 2. This costume does have a shorter usage time than Air Cat but makes up for it with the added elevation.

I absolutely adore how elegant and beautiful this particular costume is. You can compare the Snow Fairy to myths often related to fae or hidden in the freezing mountains. An otherworldly beauty that makes any hardship worth seeing just a being before your eyes. Being a reindeer type Faun just adds to the mystique and creating snowflakes to walk on is a perfect extra touch.

Rare Costume - Amadeus

Sophisticated pianist. A costume that can only be found in Act 1 and is a performing costume. Now I am a big fan of piano covers, whether it be covers of game osts or actual songs, there is rarely any piano music I don't like.

I love the fact he's wearing piano keys as a collar and even has a tutu made out of those very keys. A very creative take to a normally grounded instrument. And the big white wig is a nice touch since it's often portrayed with pianists in various media.

Chapter 9

Common Costume- Iron Panda

Adorable crusher. Iron Panda is a costume found in Act 1 and Act 2 with the ability to break iron blocks using both its jump and weight. This costume is surprisingly fast for a rather large and heavy form, perfect for fast stomps on enemies or quick getaways if you have rare costumes you don't want to lose.

This costume reminds of a rolling Russian Doll with a panda theme. Very adorable, the bluish purple color suits the white very nicely and I love that sleepy look on its face. The large blue dots on its sides are actually the arms too, they mimic panels! Only thing that unnerves me is when the costume turns their head by a 90 degree angle. Super creepy when using it.

Rare Costume- Merry Ghost

Cute and Spooky! The Merry Ghost is a costume that can be found in Act 2 and gives the ability to constantly float. It's main purpose is to avoid ground hazards like poison swamps and has a larger slightly floaty jump. The only downside is that you can't harm enemies with this, it's only for quick mobility.

Very adorable especially with the stitched rag cloak covering the body. It has this Mimikyu sort of vibe but also a Casper the Friendly Ghost aura too. Friendly spirits are often tossed aside for more vicious or antagonistic ones in a lot of media. Getting an adorable friendly one just adds points in my book and a good pal for Casper.

Chapter 10

Common Costume - Inky Blaster

Yuji Naka's take on a squid kid. This costume can be found in Act 1, Act 2 and the Boss Act. She allows the wearer to throw fast globs of rainbow paint at opponents or targets and is decently agile.

Love that her hands are paintbrushes and is based on the octopus. Tentacles mimicking the frills of a dress and used for hair and feet? A very creative take and splattering rainbow paint on the annoying types of Negati (looking at you ya divebomb happy Pelican and destroyer of most of my good costumes) is very therapeutic.

Rare Costume- Air Unicorn

The first unicorn I like?! This costume can only be found in Act 1 and allows the user to walk on air farther than Air Cat. The practical godfather of mobility, and recovery. You won't believe how many times this costume has gotten me to very difficult areas and saved me from death via falling into the abyss.

It is a very tricky costume to find but if you turn around, there's a large paintbrush on the wall. You need the Double Jumper to get on top but you'll be able to see a hidden mirror. That is where the Air Unicorn is located.

I won't lie that unicorns are not my preferred mythological creature. I live in America where unicorns tend to be oversaturated to oblivion and don't get me started on My Little Pony. The show isn't my cup of tea but I do have some followers and friends who are fans. People have their own opinions and it's rude to question them about it.

I honestly love the elegant but cute design, the purple, pale pink and cyan just fit well with the white, I also love that the mane mimics a paintbrush tip and the large light purple collar of fur is a perfect touch to this fine design.

Chapter 11

Common Costume - Bulldozer

A man's punny best friend! This costume can be in Act 1, Act 2 (?), and the Boss Act. It lets you push special construction blocks and you can boost the push speed by button mashing.

They definitely took a lot of creative for costumes in Chapter 11 amongst the other ones in my opinion. Fire Stations tend to have some animal companions with dogs being the most common but instead of a Dalmatian for the design they used a Bulldog! 😍

Like the aforementioned machine, this good boy is bulky, has the appropriate color scheme and even the hands turn into bulldozer's shovel when using the ability! I love the fact his tail is wagging when you push a block and it wags faster if ya button mash!

Also the name is a pun!

Rare Costume - Fiery Blaster

Pyromancer of Lions. The Fiery Blaster costume can only be found in Act 2. It gives the wearer that ability to throw large fireballs alongside fire and lava immunity. If you hate lava levels or have difficulty with this Chapter's boss then I recommend getting this Costume.

First thing I like to say about this particular design is how they use the colors. Looking at the mane, you can see how the red and darker red are patterned in a way to mimic flames. The dark red fur on the feet are even in fire like a pattern. The outfit such as the yellow and brownish kilt alongside the gloves spewing fire around the wrists just reminds me of a fire dancer.

I can see this fella wielding one of the torches a fire dancer uses and just put on a spectacular show.

Chapter 12

Another loveable version of a beloved icon. The Invisible Man costume can be found in Act 1, Act 2 and the Boss Act. It has the power to turn the wearer invisible for a period of time and become undetected to enemies that aren't bosses.

Agile and perfect to deal with enemies who are very annoying or are difficult snipers. You don't know how satisfying it is to give the more aggravating Negati an invisible middle finger by sneak attacking them. I have lost many costumes whenever enemies got the drop on me so it's fair to dish out payback.

I love how this design takes aspect from the popular icon but also have it relate to their human counterpart. Bandages were used by the original Invisible Man to cover skin his normal clothing couldn't cover in public and made it easier for him to disappear when needed.

The shoes and arms being covered in bandages and some of the bandages being used as bangs for the hair is a nice touch.

Rare Costume - Jolt Tiger

Immovable Taser. This costume can only be found in Act 2. It grants electricity immunity and create a barrier when you stand still. One of the better costumes for baiting particular enemies. You do have to be careful because a single itch will stop the barrier.

If you don't know, the Tiger is my Chinese Zodiac and electricity is one of my favorite elements. Love the yellow lightning bolt flairs and even the black stripes mimic lightning too! I also like the will o' wisp pattern on the stomach and the large tuft of grayish fur around the chest. The design puts it above the Sun Walker.

And that is it! The next thing I will cover is the level design and it's music. The bosses will be done last since it's good to save the best for last!

Until next time folks, see you back in Wonderworld.

[meetthetank]

Beast Code Chapter 1: The Twilit City

Rating: Mature Archive Warning: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Category: F/M Fandom: NieR: Automata (Video Game) Relationship: 2B/9S (NieR: Automata) Characters: 2B (NieR: Automata), 9S (NieR: Automata), Original YoRHa Characters (NieR: Automata) Additional Tags: Transformation, gothic horror, Android Lycanthropy...sort of, Inspired by Bloodborne (Video Game), Everyday i get closer to just writing a Bloodborne AU

Summary:  Break the vicious cycle with tooth and claw. Unleash the beast within and destroy your chains. But the strength to defy fate comes at a grave cost. Will it be enough, little doll? Or will you succumb to despair once more?

Ao3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/31546982

The assignment to the Twilight Belt comes as a shock to 2B and 9S. Rarely, if ever, are YorHa units sent to this border of perpetual daylight and eternal night. Conditions are always reported as unstable by the infrequent scans by one of the other satellite bases that orbit earth, too dangerous to deploy scanners by themselves, and too depleted of resources for the Council to care about. The mystery surrounding the strip of permanent twilight goads curious operators and scanners alike to comb through files searching for nuggets of data, image or video files, anything they can get their hands on. All but a few pieces of data reveal tantalizing scraps and clues to the puzzle of the Sunset Belt. Photographs of dead machines with toothy, gaping maws that split their spherical heads in two and minerals warped in peculiar shapes. According to one of the situation reports from a scanner that had been sent there, there was an eerie, foreboding feeling about the place; that strange and frightening sounds would echo across the landscape and that he felt close to a forbidden barrier that separated this world from another. Though the file and its contents are now treated as a human “ghost story”, many androids, including 2B and 9S, believe at least some portion of the tale.

9S relays this story to 2B as they descend to Earth’s surface, his chattering easing some of 2B’s trepidation. The pair had fallen into an easy rhythm over the course of several assignments to Earth, most of which involved retrieving data from lost servers buried in rubble or clearing out an area of machine lifeforms. Despite her outwardly cold demeanor, 9S wormed his way past all of her defenses, forming a strong, solid relationship with the battler android. His voice is a centering point for her and assists in ignoring the gut churning possibilities of what could be waiting for them below.

“...What do you think, 2B?” his voice crackles from the comms system inside her flight unit.

“Hm?” she shifts her head to the side, glancing at his jet black flight unit cruising beside hers.

“What do you think made the target go rogue?”

She bites her lower lip. There are a thousand possible answers as to why a normally punctual, efficient YorHa Battle unit would suddenly stop responding to command and not checking in at required times. Only a few of those options were machine lifeform related complications.

“We’ll find out when we arrive, 9S.” she says curtly, eager to shut down the conversation, “Focus on landing protocol.”

He sighs, a sound of annoyance and frustration, “Yeah, yeah.”

“One affirmation will-”

“Fiiiiiiiine.”

The final phase of their descent is spent in silence. They pass through the Earth’s atmosphere in streaks of fire and light towards the border of day and night, and a continent that humans called Europe. Even as they descend, the outlines of ancient, massive structures come into view. Both androids are used to the thick vegetation eating away at the remains of human structures, but here the trees are gnarled, twisted, and void of leaves or blossoms. Their branches reach to the crimson sky and permanently setting sun like bony hands in prayer or a stag’s antlers. As 2B and 9S set their flight units down a few miles away from the outskirts of a sprawling, ancient city. It amazes 9S, as he exits his own unit, that the buildings are in such good condition considering the millenia that have passed it by. Great spires of countless cathedrals pierce the heavens, casting an ominous, looming shadow over the otherwise barren landscape. A well worn cobblestone road, lined with rusted iron lighting fixtures long since burnt out, leads into the city proper. 

2B and 9S stand at the precipice of this ancient beast of stone and metal in awe of its size, and terrified of what might lurk within. A hoarse bird’s caw, jolts the androids back into awareness, 2B drawing her katana and prepares for battle.

“Heh,” 9S laughs, trying to calm them both down, “Just a raven, 2B.”

“What?”

“A large black bird. Harmless to us.” He doesn’t tell her about the chill he gets down his spine as he watches the corvid gaze down at them with beady black eyes, or how humans saw these birds as ill omens or prophets of death.

They begin the trek into the forgotten city. 2B doesn’t put Virtuous Contract away.

Pod 042 alerts 2B to the presence of an unidentifiable android signal, marking the location on both hers and 9S’ map. Since the area has yet to be properly mapped out by satellite imagery (as inaccurate as that process is) only a vague street layout is available through a very low power scan. They have no way of judging what might block their path to the target beyond featureless grey masses depicting buildings, rubble, large trees, or whatever else may lie in wait. Their target, represented by a small orange dot on the map, appears to be near the city’s main gate and inside one of the larger buildings. 2B refuses to admit it to herself, but she’s relieved to not have to delve too far into this labyrinthine city.

“I’ve never seen the sky this color…” 9S muses as he stares up, transfixed by the blood red sky and orange sun hanging low.

Though hauntingly beautiful, she won’t deny, 2B keeps her gaze fixed on the wrought iron gate ahead of them. The heavens disturb her; they are the color of death. Of war. And the sun is… wrong. 

She snaps at 9S to keep focused as they approach the gate to the city. Though scans indicate there are no machine lifeforms, or any lifeforms beyond their target, she’s learned from countless combat assignments to not rely totally on what the support unit reports. She’s encountered and seen machines that mask themselves from scans or camouflage themselves in the environment, and in a place like this anything could be hiding in the shadows just outside of view. 

The iron gate lies ajar, worn from millennia of neglect. Clouds of rust particles burst from the hinges as 2B shoves it open further, the metal grinding against itself with a horrible grating shriek. The sound makes them both wince, and they slip through the partially opened gate as soon as they can.

Standing inside the city gates, 9S can’t shake the uneasy feeling that claws at the back of his mind. The great ancient human structures loom above them, and though he knows that the buildings themselves aren’t alive, he can’t shake the notion that he’s being watched by them. The windows are dark, but when he passes by the light of the setting sun reflects off of them, giving them the illusion of intelligence. Suddenly, 9S feels as if he’s inside a cave, or locked in a room with no exit. Suddenly… He finds it hard to breathe. 9S tugs at the collar of his jacket as if it's tightening around his throat. His synthetic lungs fill with air as much as he can take, then he releases it moments later. It calms him, if only a little.

2B’s gaze is fixed ahead on the building Pod 042 marked as the rogue android’s hiding place. It’s a much smaller structure than the others that choke the sky, but its reach stretches across the streets like a tree’s roots. Judging by the well preserved signs that hang from crumbled doors it looked to have multiple uses. 9S commands his own Pod to run scans on the words and symbols for later analysis. 

“The target’s in here…” 2B murmurs, holding her free hand up in a tight fist, signaling 9S to stop behind her.

This portion of the sprawling building is similar in structure to the massive spires above. It has the same pointed section on the roof, but much smaller in scale, and similar symbols decorate the exterior. A cross, winged humans, various flowering plants, and a number of human figures bowing their heads or supplicating themselves to the winged humans.

“This must have been a place of worship,” 9S muses aloud.

“Focus.”

He nods. Typically 9S argues with his partner about the necessity for recording data like this, or excuse his wandering attention to his designation as a scanner, but he knows the danger within the house of worship, or rather, he doesn’t know. Neither one of them knows what this rouge android is capable of. 

2B presses her hand against the wooden doors to the chapel and pushes it open as slowly as possible. It groans in protest, dust falls from its hinges and frame, but it swings inward. A rush of warm air washes over them carrying the scent of stale incense and dead machines. Clouds of smoke billow out of the doorway, rising into the red sky like twisted fingers. 2B enters first, sliding in sword arm first. She motions for 9S to wait for a moment, then commands Pod 042 to switch on its flashlight. 

9S peeks his head around the door, keeping a few paces behind his partner. He switches on his own Pod’s flashlight to illuminate more of the pitch black interior. Long wooden benches are pushed up against the walls, opening up the center space. Ornate candle holders, rotting books, charred incense burners, and pieces of artwork among other things 9S has no name for are scattered across the ground, each one a priceless human artifact that could fuel hours of study. Yet it’s not these that hold 9S’ attention, but the statue at the far back of the chapel, and the figure kneeling in front of it.

It looks to be made of some kind of marble, a pristine white stone that has been sheltered from time and the elements. The subject is another winged human, this one wearing splendid armor and wielding a great spear. Beneath them, a grotesque, writhing beast bares its teeth and claws at the warrior as the blade pierces its throat. 9S has never seen anything like it in person, and very few records of these kinds of sculptures remain at all. It’s both horrific and beautiful at once. He wonders what the human who made this saw that inspired it. Did creatures like these roam the world during their time?

2B steps in front of him, Virtuous Contract at the ready. The figure in front of the statue rises to their feet as the Pod’s flashlights center on them. A cloak made of feathers conceals most of their form but they appear to be a female android, perhaps a YorHa model. Though, if that were the case it would have been in the mission briefing. That is, unless... 

The android turns her head to the side, glaring at the pair over her shoulder.

“So, Command sent the wolves, did they?” She asks, a distinct rumble in her voice.

2B raises her blade and keeps her gaze steady. She hears 9S also ready his weapon, the golden katana Cruel Oath. 

Lazily, the android turns her body to face them. Her clothes confirm her origins; there’s no mistaking the sharp white embellishments and black velvet of a YorHa uniform; however each piece is ripped, tattered, and stitched together with other scraps of clothing or… animal hide. 

The rouge android drags the blade of a bloodied top heavy sword between her fingers, cleaning the gore from it. “It doesn’t matter, dog.” Her eyes shine with a strange, purplish light that refracts around her collapsed, twisted pupils. “You will fall like the rest.”

It isn’t until the rogue android rushes forward, sword raised, that 2B sees the corpses of YorHa units piled in front of the statue, and the blood that soaks it.

She dashes backward and shoves the bewildered 9S out of harm's way. The android’s bloodied sword crashes into the stonework floor, sending thousands of years of dust into the air. 2B lunges, her katana poised to take advantage of the enemy’s opening, but she sidesteps much quicker than anticipated. The rogue’s fist slams into 2B’s chest, distorting her internal sensors and throwing her off balance. 2B watches in horror as the rogue drives her sword towards her, but a golden flash knocks the blade away. 

“2B!” 9S shouts, brandishing Cruel Oath. “Are you okay?!”

She shakes her head as if it would clear the internal errors from her vision, but she assumes her battle stance next to her partner. “Fine.”

Both androids launch into an assault on the rogue, attacking in tandem. Despite 2B’s scrambled sensors, she and 9S have an undeniable synergy that comes with countless missions. 2B forces the rogue back with singular, powerful blows, while 9S jabs at any opening he can reach from the sides. However, even with their combined might the rogue deflects and maneuvers out of the way of each attack as casually as one would flick away an insect or step around a puddle. She looks to be expending no effort at all as she dances around the two YorHa. Anger and frustration rises in 2B, culminating in a harsh growl. She mimics the rogue’s tactic from earlier, rushing forward and feinting with a crushing overhead strike that is easily dodged but allows no time for recovery. She slams her fist into the rogue android’s face, sending her stumbling backwards. Before 9S can dive in with a horizontal slash the rogue dashes backward, putting crucial distance between her and her hunters.

The rogue android lowers her gaze at the pair, sizing them up, taking stock of their abilities and assessing their weaknesses. 2B watches her eyes dart back and forth between her and 9S, then linger on 9S. Sensing the rogue’s motive and deciding at that moment that the outcome is unacceptable, 2B dives in front of the strike meant for 9S. The rogue’s sword slices cleanly through her chest, coating the rogue’s clothes in splatters of fresh blood. The battler falls to her knees, clutching the wound with one hand while supporting herself on her sword. 

“No!!” 9S screams and lunges at their target. “2B!!”

“Hm. Interesting.” The rogue murmurs, easily deflecting the scanner’s wild strikes.

2B watches through blurred, error obscured vision as 9S drives the rogue back. If she didn’t know any better it’d seem that he has the upper hand, but the rogue’s eyes glint in a way 2B recognizes all too well. She’s baiting him. 

9S slams his blade against the rogue’s, pressing all of his power and weight into the strike. It’s the moment she had been waiting for. Suddenly she pulls back, letting 9S’ weight fall forward and forcing him off balance. She kicks his legs out from under him then shoves him into the floor. 9S lets out a startled, choked gasp as his weight and the force of the rogue’s attack cracks the stone floor, sending up more clouds of dust into the air. 

Clutching her chest, 2B roars and charges at the target with blinding speed. When she sees the smirk twisting the rogue’s lips and the pointed iron rod in her grip, it’s too late. With a flash of her crowfeather cape, the android meets 2B’s charge with her own, the skewer aimed at her wounded chest. 2B tries to divert her body away, but the momentum is too strong. It’s just enough to roll her body to the side so that the spike pierces clean through her shoulder, clear of critical systems. 

The pain, however, is agonizing. 

It’s different from the injuries 2B has suffered in the past. Countless machine swords, spears, and axes have torn through her body and of course all of those injuries hurt, but they were manageable. When the iron bar rips through layers of cloth, skin, carbon plating and frame, and synthetic muscle fibers it's as if her shoulder has been set on fire. She clenches her teeth, muffling a scream to a low growl. Her hand wraps around the skewer, close to the wound itself. Instinct tells her to tear it out immediately, but she knows that without treatment doing so would only worsen her condition. 2B doesn’t get to make that decision, unfortunately. The rogue grabs hold of the end of the iron rod and twists it side to side, driving it further into 2B’s shoulder. 

2B sinks to her knees and tries to hold back the cries of agony. Her injured arm stops responding to commands and lies limp and useless against her side. She swats at the rogue android with her weakening other arm, desperate to escape from this torment. Her strength fades along with her vision; it becomes impossible to even hold herself upright.

She must not fall, she must not… she must stay strong, she must stay alive.

She will not allow him to die… 

Not for the sake of a monster like her….

9S leaps into the fight as the rogue android prepares a killing blow. A flurry of Pod fire, sword strikes, and furious movement all blur together into a white, gold, and black haze. She fights to stay awake, she fights to stand, but her body begins to shut down non-vital systems and conserve as much energy as she can. First her tactile sensors switch off, leaving her in a numbing cold. Then her hearing, quickly followed by sight. A warning flashes across the last vestiges of her vision that she is entering a forced shutdown state, and despite her audio sensors being deactivated, she swears she hears 9S cry out for her.

….

….

…….

………

……….

……..

….

2B opens her eyes to the blinding, sterile white of hacking space. This itself is not shocking. Oftentimes she would run diagnostics on her critical systems when in a forced shutdown, both to manage critical systems and to keep herself busy. 

But now, in the distance, there is an anomaly.

A single figure, black as night, approaches her. It’s shape is human up till its head, which sports pointed ears and a long snout like that of a dog or wolf. It looms over her and leaves a black, fragmented mist in its wake. But most troubling of all in this world of stark monochrome is its eye…. or what 2B believes is an eye. In the center of its lupine face is a strange geometric sigil that emits a highly saturated purple light. It feels… malicious. The thought itself is insane to 2B. Light cannot possess intent or emotions, and yet… 

“This is an unacceptable outcome.” A voice booms in her head. Somehow she knows it is the entity speaking. 

2B opens her mouth to respond, but instead of words, thick crimson fluid leaks from her throat.

“You will die. He will die. You cannot abide by this.”

She shakes her head. Droplets of blood fall to the pristine floor. The entity is right. If she has any strength left, 9S will live.

“Stand, little doll,” the entity commands, “Stand and unleash y-...Be——…..d.”

The entity’s voice becomes warped and distorted with audio glitches, yet 2B understands its words with frightening clarity.

“Take-......l-...s within.” 

It holds a hand out to her, offering her something she can’t quite make out. The shape in its palm is amorphous, colorless, and flickers with lines of jumbled code. Somehow, she knows this piece of herself in intimate detail, yet cannot remember what this does or what its relation to the entity is. 

But it promises strength enough to save 9S.

2B reaches out and takes the code in her hand… 

….

………….

…………………………

………………………………………………………..

Her eyes snap open. A current of raw energy runs through her body, electrifying every nerve and sensor within her. She shakes with each pulse of her circulatory apparatus as a new, terrifying strength takes hold. 2B rises to her feet, flexing her hands, legs, arms. One arm’s movement is restricted by the iron bar still stuck in her shoulder. She tears it out with little effort, casting it to the floor. The rattling, hollow sound echoes against the stone chapel. 

The rogue’s head snaps up from her combat with 9S, who is barely able to hold his sword. Something in her expression changes. She kicks 9S and points her sword at 2B, her arms shaking in a way they had not before. 

2B lunges forward, her sword raised high. The rogue raises her own sword to deflect, but 2B’s newfound strength breaks her guard with one mighty strike. With blinding speed 2B slices through the rogue android’s body. Her crowfeather cape flutters to the floor, soon followed by her arm. The rouge android staggers back, an expression of shock and horror twisting her face. 2B drives her sword through the rogue’s chest, forcing her back further. Instead of drawing her sword back for another strike, a terrifying feeling takes over 2B. She leaves the sword inside the rogue’s chest and tackles her to the ground. With her bare hands and horrible strength, 2B delivers blow after blow to the android’s chest, shoulder, arms, head, and abdomen. Each piece is reduced to a pulp of flesh and metal one after the next until nothing remains but scrap. 

2B throws her head back as she straddles her victim, a horrible, twisted grin plastered across her face and arms outstretched. Her body feels wrong… horribly wrong, yet for the first time since she can remember, her chest is light. She gazes up at the morbid sculpture with an emotion she can’t quite describe. It isn’t the same as a combat high, she is intimately familiar with that heady rush. This is something akin to… euphoria. A laugh begins to bubble up in her throat-

“2B?”

She’s forced back to reality by the 9S’ voice, right beside her ear. Suddenly, the terrible strength from moments before fades from her body. Her arms go limp by her sides, and it becomes hard to sit upright. Even breathing is laborious. 9S wraps his arms around her shoulders and tugs her gently, laying her head and shoulders against his chest.

“I’ve got you. We… I think we’re safe.” His breathing is uneven and ragged, much like 2B’s. He swivels his head back and forth, searching for any lingering threats as quickly as possible. “Pod, run a scan for machine lifeform or android signals in the immediate area,” he commands.

Pod 153 is silent for a moment, then emits a grating, hideous garbled noise. Words try to break through the audio distortions but neither 2B or 9S is confident it isn’t simply what they wish to hear. 

“Alert:” Pod 042 begins, “Interference from unknown source is preventing accurate scans of the surrounding area. Proposal: Relocate to an elevated aaaaaaa…..a-r-....rrr……”

The same audio distortions come from 042, mingling with 153’s until they both cut off, leaving the androids in silence. “Pod?” 9S calls to the floating support unit. “Pod, respond. ... Pod?”

2B mutters weakly to her own Pod, but it's the same as 9S’. No response at all.

9S pulls up a small data screen, map data, from what 2B can tell. Or… where map data would be. Instead, there’s a blank, grey screen and a little message box that reads No Data. 

“What the-...” 9S whispers, flipping through different screens at a frantic pace. “Where-... There’s… all the data is gone!” he shouts, “No map, no signal scans… I can’t even connect to the Bunker…”

“We’re stranded…” 2B muses aloud.

Silence passes between them. Only the ominous wind passing through ancient wood and stone reminds them that the world hasn’t stopped moving around them. 

“We should move to a higher area, like your Pod said.” 9S suggests, rising to his feet. “Can you stand?”

When 9S offers a hand out to her, 2B takes it without thinking. His touch, even through his thick gloves, calms the beast pacing inside her. 

Beast? 

…..What does that mean?

2B rises to her feet, her hands lingering in 9S’ for a moment longer than she normally would. There’s a fog in her head that distorts her equilibrium. She leans on 9S for support, to which he wraps his arm around her waist and positions himself under her shoulder.

“I got you.” He says with a small smile.

2B feels just a bit lighter.

They exit the chapel and make for higher ground. 9S rationalizes that if they simply continue up stairs or inclines they would find a space clear of whatever is interfering with the Pod’s satellite connections. Perhaps it’s the fog that creeps across the cobblestone streets or the odd angle of the sun (not that it makes sense to 9S or 2B but they have to consider all possibilities), or perhaps it’s something beyond that. There’s a strange, eerie feeling about this city that neither can explain, and neither want to talk about. As if there’s a presence constantly watching over them.

They climb the stairs of one of the massive sprawling religious buildings. From what 9S assesses, it seems to have one of the tallest spires in the city. Only a larger time-keeping building looming in the distance is larger. If he could reach the top he should be far enough above whatever is interfering with the Pods. When he relays his plan to 2B who only nods, her eyes unfocused and breathing shallow, worry starts to lace its icy fingers through his chest. Something is wrong with her. 

9S’ first instinct is to prepare a data backup with the bunker, but the Pods are both out of commission for the time being. His next is to contact command and ask how they should proceed, to the same conclusion. Climbing the spire is the only course of action he can take, but first, he has to make sure 2B is safe.

He leads her through the castle of worship, now supporting most of her weight. That… frightening show of strength must have exhausted her power supply. There are plenty of well preserved wooden benches that stretch across half of the main worship chambers, at least it would be more comfortable than the stone floors. Under watch by the countless grotesque statues that sit in the rafters, 9S helps 2B onto a long bench, laying her on her back. She hisses and grinds her teeth as she moves. She must have sustained internal damage from that fight… 

“I’ll be right back,” he promises, “I’m going to go to the roof to get a clear signal.”

All 2B gives in response is a slow nod. He lingers by her side before leaving, a moment longer than needed.

Now alone in this spacious, hollow, human structure, 2B takes stock of her condition. There’s pain in her shoulders, particularly her right arm. Her legs are tight, most locking up from the strain of the previous battle and trekking up to her current location. Her back, as well, is tense beyond discomfort. It spasms and jolts if she breathes too hard. At least these are injury related, explainable. The black wolfman with purple eyes lingering in the corners of her vision, is not. 

She sees the entity in the shadows, lurking just out of view. 9S walks right past it, not even sparing a glance at the tall, gangly creature. It doesn’t respond to 9S either, instead focusing on 2B and only 2B. 

The sight of it makes her stomach turn. She tries to close her eyes, but the glowing, purple sigil is burned into her vision. With a groan she digs her knuckles into her eyelids as if she could carve the hallucination out of the air. Defeated, 2B lets her arms down once more. One hand touches the cool stone floor, decorated with elegant mosaics, and she suddenly realizes how warm she is. According to the warning messages displayed in her vision her body temperature is ten degrees above normal levels. 

“Pod,” she groans, forcing herself to sit up, “retrieve water from storage-”

“Report: Mail notification received from Command.”

The monotone voice of her support unit shocks her. Pod 042 had been silent up until now due to whatever interference was in the area, and now it’s getting messages from Command? 9S must have established a connection from the roof.

Her heart sinks. If that’s the case he would contact her. The first thing she’d hear would be his voice.

She opens the message, dreading its contents.

Subject has accessed confidential records. Eliminate the Target.

At the top of the spire 9S takes in the view of the entire city, the wind rushing through his hair. It’s breathtaking. It’s unlike anything he’s ever seen. The sky dyes the entire urban sprawl red, as well as the mountains on the horizon. His pulse races as he drinks in the terrifying awe of what the ancient humans were capable of, hoping to remember every last detail of the buildings, the streets, and the magnificent sculptures that litter the city. It’s all so well preserved that he feels as though a human might appear, walking down the cobblestone streets as if nothing were wrong. As if they didn’t go extinct. 

Reluctantly he draws his attention away from the splendor of humanity’s ruins, and shakes away the creeping emptiness that comes with that line of thought. He can’t think about that now. He and 2B are stranded. 9S produces a holographic terminal that mirrors Pod 153’s settings menu. Pod’s diagnostics on his end show buildup of foreign material in and around certain receivers, something that 9S expects, but that is only part of the problem. It seems that the atmosphere in this place is clogged with various chemicals and particles that make satellite transmissions more difficult. Considering all of the decaying metal and stone it’s no wonder that there’s so much particulate in the air. Once Pod’s receivers are clear 9S has Pod 153 hover just above the spire’s tip. It stays suspended in the air, the small light on the top of its body turning on and off at regular intervals.

“Connection established.” Pod 153 announces moments later. “Proposal: Contact the Bunker for support.”

“Great! Set up a relay connection for Pod 042 as well.”

“Affirmative.”

9S opens a data screen laden with information and begins composing his message to Operator 21O. With an unreliable connection a live call would be too risky, a simple text based message won’t be distorted or cut out. He records a brief message, attaches a transcription of his words, and sends it to the Bunker. Hopefully 21O would send something quickly-

A flash of movement in the streets below catches his eye. Something running on all fours... “Pod… run a scan for machine lifeforms…” He says, a chill creeping up his spine.

Pod 153 floats down to his side. “Alert: Multiple machine lifeforms detected. Proposal: Regroup with Unit 2B.”

“But-” 

That thing didn’t look like a machine…

“Alert: Anomalous signal detect-”

Pod 153’s words are drowned by a horrific, mournful howl that reverberates through the entire building. 9S clings to the ornate decorations on the spire and covers his ears with his free hand. His body runs cold. He’s never heard a sound like that before. Nothing the machines make comes close to that. The pain and sorrow in that noise is something that no animal could produce either. That left only one possibility…

Another roar wracks the building from within… 

2B clutches the sides of her head, the data screen long dismissed.

No…

Her chest strains under her panicked breaths. 

No.

She hadn’t been watching him. She hadn’t been keeping track of his questions and behavior…

No… No.

And now she…

No no no no no .

She has to…

no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no.

NO.

She will not do this. Not again. 

Her skin feels… tight. 

She will fight off every single goddamn android Command sends until there are none left but her and him. She will not be a part of this cycle again. Her hands curl into fists as a surge rushes through her body, alighting her nerves with energy. With power.

A shadow moves across the stone floor of the castle of worship. The entity, its form inky black, its sigil emitting a baleful purple light, glides towards her. It bathes her in the highly saturated light, a light not even shielding her eyes can diffuse. It bores into her core, it peers into her mind. It speaks into her mind.

“You will not allow this to happen.” Its voice echoes off the hollow shell of where humans once sought God. “But strength comes at a price, little doll.”

The entity plunges its claws into her chest. Heat explodes throughout her body to the point where she fears she might self-destruct. The boiling tendrils of this ethereal monster sink into her artificial heart and her Black Box. Something activates, or… unlocks, and suddenly she feels… confined. Her body… it’s too small….

“Time to pay the toll…”

It rips its claws, now writhing shadow-like whips, out of her chest, then vanishes. 2B’s vision is obscured, but not by warnings and error messages, by blood. Red veins pulse on the edges of her sight in time with her heart. Each beat sends waves of heat, electricity, and agony through her body.

“Stand, little doll. Stand, and unleash your beasthood.”

A scream forms in 2B’s throat, but it cannot break through her swelling throat and gritted teeth. She takes frantic, shallow breaths. Her limbs shake, her fingernails dig into the stonework floor. It’s so hot… 

2B rolls onto the floor and rips away her tight uniform. Far too tight. Parts of her dress were already beginning to tear as her muscles swell. Blood trickles from various wounds where her skin has split, revealing the thick, synthetic muscle cords that lie beneath. Her blindfold is next, but removing it does not help her vision. One eye is unfocused, blurring all of her vision.

She drags her fingernails across her body and lets out a deep, animal snarl when she tears into her own flesh. Looking down at her hands, she recoils at the sight of long, black claws that split her fingers down the center. Skin falls from them in long strips to the point where the mechanical joints of her hands are exposed.

Something snaps inside her, somewhere in her upper back. She howls in agony, in sorrow, as her spine lengthens, twists, and grows too fast for her body to maintain. Her insides are compacted and grind against each other, sending sickening vibrations throughout her. Her throat finally opens up, allowing her to breathe. She watches as puffs of steam escape her mouth into the warm twilight air. 

Another crack and something explodes out of her lower back. Her balance is thrown off and she falls forward, smashing her face into stone. Another snarl, this one combined with the gnashing of fangs. Her mouth warps, splitting out of her face into a muzzle. Eyes follow, one swelling to fit its now spacious socket while the other stunts and refuses to change. She claws at the peeling skin of whatever she can reach, spilling more of her blood in the process. Everything hurts, everything itches, but oh god the power feels so good.

A growth springs from above her unchanged eye, weighing her head down and hunching her body over. She supports herself with one enormous hand, the other scooping the wires and tubing that spills out of her torn stomach and forcing them back inside her abdominal cavity. The twisting extension of her spine, a tail, thuds against the floor and counters the weight of her head. 

2B shakes the mane of bloodied, white hair from her functioning eye, turns her head to the sky, and roars.

[dreamdropxoxo]

Omg if you're still taking prompts, i would LOVE an omegaverse au where damen realizes laurent is pregnant during kr!! Can be either right before the okton, right after, at the trial, whatever, just smth w pregnant laurent during kings rising and people realizing it

Hello and thank you so much for your prompt. I had a blast writing this short story. Honestly, I almost forgot how much I liked writing Omegaverse :)

I hope you like the result :) I was very happy that I could write it, so thank you for that! I also think it has the potential for a longer story but unfortunately I am to tied up by my other long-term projects that I won’t be able to start another one soon. :( 

Whatever, here is what I came up with (please keep in mind that the original work is written by the incredible C.S. Pacat and I don’t own any of the characters or of the universe (I also pilfered some of the original lines)):

Damen couldn't really explain his sudden urge to smoother Laurent in his arms. Half of the time, he wasn't even sure if he liked the git. It made absolutely no sense to him, but his instincts screamed at him to not let the blond man out of his eyes, or even better, his reach.

True, Laurent was damn attractive, gorgeous even, everybody would agree with that. Even Nikandros, who hated him even more after he had realized what Laurent had done to his king, had admitted in a drunken stupor that the omega was beautiful beyond measures.

Damen's back looked horrible, he knew it himself but he could also admit that Laurent had had his reasons. Cruel as they might be.

However, the instinctive urges explained at least why Damen's blood froze when Makedon demanded for Laurent to ride in the okton. Was the man out of his bloody mind? Damen couldn't really justify the wish for Makedon's swift death, but it was undeniably prominent in the forefront of his thoughts as he scrambled for words, a reason for Laurent's absence on the field, anything really.

"Veretians do not train in the okton," he said finally, it sounded weak an argument even to his own ears. Yet, he couldn't really reason with the fact that Laurent was an omega, because if he did, he didn't know how Laurent would take retribution, but it was undebatable that he would. Damen wasn't fool enough to risk that.

"In Akielos, the okton is known as the sport of kings. Our own King will take the field. Does the Prince of Vere lack the courage to ride against him?"

Damn it, Damen wanted to place his fist in smug visage of his general. Makedon knew that it was impossible for Laurent to refuse now. He was already looked upon with condescension from most of the alphas in their joined forces, he couldn't afford to refuse.

And he wouldn't. Damen needed just one look at his face and he knew that Laurent would agree, out of his foolish pride, and sharp mind. Because Laurent knew better than anyone else what they had to loose and he knew that the people gathered needed to acknowledge him just as much as they did Damen.

Suddenly, he wished for a different world. He wished for a world, where Laurent wouldn't need to prove himself worth of following and recognition just because he was not the warrior Damen was or his brother had been. A world, where Laurent's secondary gender wouldn't limit him in the ways it did.

He risked a glance at Laurent, hoping that his outstanding mind would be able to somehow sidestep, he didn’t want him on the field. He would give almost anything to keep Laurent here, keep him safe and that was rather startling an insight. 

The omega beside him, though, didn’t even try. “Why not?” said Laurent and this made Damen’s stomach lurch. He needed all of his self-restrain to stop himself from dragging the blond man to the side and just straight out tie him up to keep him away from the course. 

He couldn’t pinpoint the source of this feeling exactly. He just knew that there was a very faint, sweet smell in the air. It was mouthwatering to Damen. It came from Laurent. And it was the main reason he wanted Laurent nowhere near the okton course.

He balled his hands on his thighs. He had scented the sweetness coming from Laurent before on another person and it confused him. He couldn’t remember when exactly that was. The implications lost on him. The only positive thing was that he would be there too. Maybe he could keep Laurent from the worst. It was just wishful thinking, if something happened, he had no choice but to watch it happen.

***

Laurent’s spears were tipped in blue. It was fitting. Damen tried not to think about what they were about to do. He was nauseates, his inner alpha pushed him to keep Laurent back, to not let him ride. His skin itched with the struggle from keeping himself back.

Laurent, he knew, was good at riding. He was not only good, he was outstanding and Damen knew that. This knowledge didn’t keep him from fretting. What if something happened to Laurent? The alliance would be over, all their struggles would have been for naught, he would never be able to explore the potential of their tentative relationship. 

This last thought was something that surprised Damen in its vehemence. He realized that he wanted to get to know Laurent better, he wanted the chance to court the other man properly, he wanted a future with Laurent. The one night together was not enough. 

All of that meant nothing in the face of the okton. Men died during the okton. Damen almost sickened up, only the focus on the impending challenge kept him from swaying on his horse.

Suddenly, he remembered Laurent’s scent with such a vividness it caught him off guard. He had smelt the mouthwatering omega scent only once, Laurent’s control otherwise impenetrable. Through their night it had surrounded him, made his head swim and convinced him of their compatibility. He knew that Laurent could bring him to his knees with a whiff of his scent. 

He was almost grateful that Laurent kept his scent under iron control. He wouldn’t be able to talk to him without thinking of fucking him, otherwise. Not that it wasn’t already challenging enough without Laurent’s scent added to the mix.

Damen’s focus was almost forcefully dragged back to Laurent. He catalogued every single micro movement from the Omega at the front of the line. The blond man sat relaxed and securely in the saddle. He didn’t look fazed or nervous. His face was concentrated and self-assured. 

However, there was something else, he couldn’t put his finger on. He couldn’t keep himself from breathing in deeply, although he knew that he wouldn’t smell Laurent in the slight breeze. But his nose caught something else. There was this sweet scent again, coming from the omega. It made his head spin.

He saw Laurent assessing the course. He was clinical in his observations and Damen wished he knew what Laurent was thinking in that moment. His whole focus on the other man. 

Then it hit him. He almost bolted towards the omega. The urge to leap out of the saddle overwhelming and desperate. He wanted to shout, demand that they stop. He wanted to rage and imprison Makedon for even suggesting Laurent should ride today.

But then Laurent already rode out on the field. Damen couldn‘t admire his prone form, his flawless control or his effortless grace, because he felt so faint he almost fell from his mount. Gods, he felt the bile rise. The cold terror had him almost missing how Laurent hit a perfect bullseye. 

He missed entirely how Pallas rode out. The fear gripping his heart incapacitating him of rational thought. But he needed to concentrate. He couldn’t afford a single slip up, not when it could mean that he somehow hit Laurent. 

When the third horn sounded he flung his horse into a gallop. Trying to block out the noise, earsplitting in its intensity, trying to forget that on one of the horses sat Laurent, the omega he wanted to court, the omega pregnant with his child.

As soon as he thought it, it was as if someone had his heart in an icy grip. The coldness spread through his body. He felt numb and he almost looked at Laurent. Only the danger of accidentally causing a mishap kept him from doing so. 

After the first course he allowed himself a glimpse towards the omega. He was still just as composed as when he sat at the dais with him some hours before. He also realized that Laurent dealt with the danger of the okton by simply behaving as though it did not exist. 

Damen admired him for it but at the same time he wanted to drag him from his horse and shake him before snogging him senseless. He wanted to wrap him up in silk and satin and keep him save. He wanted to worship his body from the tips of his toes to the top of his head. 

He compelled his focus back to the course. Pallas, Laurent and he himself had yet to miss a shot. Aktis and Lydos were no real competition. It was extraordinary enough for three riders to ride a flawless okton. 

They thundered into the final circuit. The mistake, which finally broke their graceful ride, was one that anyone could have made. It was a simple miscalculation and it stopped Damen’s heart. Aktis threw his spear too early, which caused the target to collapse.

Lydos and Pallas both lost their spears. Time seemed to stand still as Damen watched Lydos’ spear soar through the air in Laurent’s direction. It was going to hit either Pallas or Laurent and Damen couldn’t tear his eyes away from the blond omega. Even when he realized that Pallas’ spear aimed for him.

Instinct reacted before thought. He caught it out of the air, his hand closing hard around the shaft, the momentum of it wrenching his shoulder back. The crowd exploded into noise as he absorbed the force of the throw and tightened his grip with his thighs to stay upright. 

However, his whole focus was on the other end of the field, on Laurent and the spear flying towards him. The blood froze in his veins. The only thought he had was that he couldn’t loose this, couldn’t loose Laurent, not now. The blind panic immobilized him, forced him to watch what would inevitably happen next.

He could see Pallas shocked face and he knew the impossible choice the younger alpha faced. Either he saved his own life at the expense of Laurent’s, a Prince and more importantly an omega or he died right there and would be celebrated as a brave and honorable alpha. And, worse even, Pallas didn’t even know that Laurent carried the next heir to the Akielon and Veretian throne. Damen, however, knew, he knew and he prayed to every deity out there that Pallas wouldn’t move out of the way.

He knew it was a horrible thought to have. He also knew that it changed everything. He realized that Pallas wouldn’t ever move out of the way because it’s what they were waiting for their whole life. Fighting to protect others and giving their lives for the greater good. Pallas, who was one of the best, despite his young age, would never be able to put Laurent in danger.

Damen could see that Laurent knew it too. It shouldn’t surprise him anymore. He already knew that Laurent was exceptionally perceptive. He had seen the collapse of the target early on, and that had given him the time necessary to react. 

The prince acted without a seconds hesitation. Laurent leaped from his horse, a feat almost impossible with the momentum he still had from the ride, and jumped into the path of the spear as he launched himself for Pallas’ horse, stirring their course to the left. 

Laurent pushed Pallas down as the spear sailed past them. Damen watched in stunned amazement how Laurent picked up Pallas’ last spear and threw it at the last target. Hitting bullseye. He completed the okton with a perfect score and Damen couldn’t really decide if he wanted to fuck him right there, in the middle of the arena or if he would prefer to drag him away to his chambers and have his wicked way with him.

When Laurent’s eyes met his gaze across the course with an obvious challenge in them, Damen grinned. Dizzy with relief and overwhelming confusion. He threw the spear he had caught across the full, incredible length of the field. Sent it flying right into the centre of the final target, where it rested, quivering.

Pandemonium.

[grailfinders]

Fate and Phantasms #132: Mordred (Rider)

It’s surf’s up on today’s Fate and Phantasms, but instead of CGI penguins we’re making Rider Mordred! We’re bringing the big waves and some fancy footwork to keep you afloat while your enemies all sink to the bottom.

Check out his build breakdown below the cut, or his character sheet over here!

Next up: Isn’t it super weird seeing your teacher on vacation?

Race and Background

 Mordred’s a Variant Human, giving him +1 Dexterity and Constitution, Nature proficiency so you’ll know when a big wave’s coming, and the Martial Adept feat for your first surfing tricks. Evasive Footwork adds you superiority die (a d6) to your AC while you move, and a Pushing Attack lets you lean into the wave when you strike, dealing 1d6 extra damage, and forcing a strength save (DC 8+proficiency+your dexterity) on the target, or they get pushed up to 15 feet away. You can use either of these maneuvers once per short rest.

Taking up surfing makes you an Athlete, giving you proficiency with Acrobatics and Athletics. (You also get land vehicle proficiency, but you could easily argue for sea vehicles instead.) You also get the Echoes of Victory feature, giving you a 50% chance of finding a fan in a city within 100 miles of your hometown who’ll give you shelter or info.

Ability Scores

If you want to stay on a surfboard for any amount of time, your Dexterity has got to be top notch. You also need a good sense of balance- that’s Wisdom. Your Constitution is also pretty good, because let’s be honest, wiping out hurts. Your Charisma isn’t bad, though it might be hard to hear you over the waves. Your Strength is pretty low: you’re not weak, but it’s hard to get leverage on a floating piece of wood. Finally, dump Intelligence. I don’t even need an excuse for this, int was your dump stat normally too.

Class Levels

1. Monk 1: If you want to fight people while also balancing on a piece of wood, monk’s probably your best bet, let’s just be real here. At first level you get Unarmored Defense, giving you an AC of 10 plus your dexterity mod plus your wisdom mod so you can still duke it out in a bikini. You also get Martial Arts, now all your monk attacks deal at least 1d4, and that grows as you level up. You can also use dexterity instead of strength when you hit people with monk weapons or your fists, and you can make an unarmed attack as a bonus action if you attack as your main action. There’s no rule saying you can’t kick them as you surf over them, so freestyle a bit. I hear judges love that.

You also get proficiency in Strength and Dexterity saves, as well as two monk skills. History and Religion are kind of vanilla servant skills, but you already got all the physical stuff you need from your background.

2. Monk 2: At second level, monks get Ki points each short rest equal to your monk level. You can spend these to dash, disengage, dodge, or attack twice as a bonus action. You also get Unarmored Movement, bumping up your walking speed by 10 feet. I’m not entirely sure how that affects your surfing, that’s something your DM has to figure out. 

You also get a Dedicated Weapon at the end of each rest, letting you turn a nonmonk weapon into a monk weapon for your martial arts, as long as you’re proficient in it and it isn’t two-handed. I’d argue a surfboard is versatile since you can wield it no-handed, but we still need that proficiency. We’re working on it.

3. Monk 3: If you want to surf good you gotta be able to sway with the waves, and there’s no monk better at swaying than the Drunken Master. You get proficiency in Performance for cool tricks, and you also learn the Drunken Technique. When you use your flurry of blows (that’s the attack twice thing from last level), you also disengage, and your walking speed increases by 10 feet. 

You can also Deflect Missiles, reducing the damage from ranged attacks and possibly throwing it back as a reaction, but that’s not really relevant.

4. Monk 4: Fourth level monks get their first Ability Score Improvement, and we’re grabbing the Tavern Brawler feat. Honestly, this feat is almost completely useless to us. The +1 to constitution or strength probably won’t help either, your unarmed strikes already use d4s, and you spend your bonus actions doing a lot more than grappling. But it does give you proficiency with improvised weapons, meaning your surfboard is a go for monkification!

You can also Slow Fall as a reaction to make your wipeouts a bit less painful.

5. Druid 1: Surfing is fun and all, but you can’t expect a wave everywhere you go, especially not inland.

Or can you? Druids can tip the scales a bit thanks to their Spells, which they cast and prepare using their Wisdom. Also, they learn Druidic. It’s a language.

You get the cantrips Frostbite and Shape Water for some early wave control (more of a splash really) and you can also cast first level spells now. Create or Destroy Water will continue the liquid theme we’ve got, and you can also cast stuff like Protection from Evil and Good and Cure Wounds if you want to play paladin.

6. Druid 2: Second level druids pick a druid circle to join, and if you want the gnarliest waves you gotta head to the Coast, brah! Specifically, the Circle of Land, which gives you a Natural Recovery, letting you regain some spell slots on a short rest once per short rest. The combined level you can gain is half your druid level, rounded up.

You can also use your Wild Shape twice per short rest to transform into a non flying, non swimming creature of CR 1/4 or less. That’s not very in character though, so you can also use it to summon a Wild Companion without using components or spell slots.

You also learn Guidance for slightly better wave riding. Turn off your targeting computer, Mordred...

7. Druid 3: Third level druid, second level spells. You also get new circle spells that you don’t need to prepare, Mirror Image and Misty Step. Copying yourself isn’t in character, but you could probably flavor the latter spell as a really cool surfboarding trick though.

You could also cast Enhance Ability for even better tricks, Pass without Trace because it’s hard to track a piece of wood, and Heat Metal. You have a history with iron and heat, and it’s not a peaceful one.

8. Monk 5: Fifth level monks get an Extra Attack each time they attack as an action, and they can turn an attack into a Stunning Strike, forcing a constitution save (DC 8+proficiency+Wisdom) or the creature they hit gets stunned for a round. You might think not being able to do stuff and giving your enemies advantage on all their attacks would make it hard to stay alive. 

You’d be right.

9. Druid 4: Back in druid for a bit, your wild shape gets a bit better, giving you swimming options and creatures of CR 1/2 or lower. I mean, you can’t prove Mordred can’t turn into a frog. You also get another ASI, so bump up that Wisdom for more AC, stronger spells, and better stunning strikes.

You can also cast Create Bonfire for a summer cookout!

10. Druid 5: Fifth level druids get third level spells, and this is the level you really come into your own. Your circle spells are Water Breathing and Water Walk, which do exactly what you think they do, and they are useful, but we’re here for some other stuff. 

You can also get Tidal Wave to create a 30′x10′x10′ wave, forcing a dexterity save for all creatures in that area. On a failure, creatures in the area take bludgeoning damage and get knocked prone. Also, the water spreads out afterwards-an attack and an escape route all in one!

If you’d rather a more permanent swell, Wall of Water gives you a wall. Of water. Ranged attacks through the wall are at disadvantage, fire attacks deal half damage, and cold based attacks can freeze the wall.

11. Monk 6: Sixth level monks get Ki-empowered Strikes, making your fists magical against resistances. You also get more acrobatic on your board thanks to your Tipsy Sway. You can Leap to Your Feet after a wipeout, going from prone to standing in only 5 feet. You can also Redirect Attack by spending a ki point when a creature misses you with a melee attack, spending it at another nearby creature instead.

12. Monk 7: Your boarding’s gotten fast enough you can outrun explosions. Your Evasion means failed dexterity saves deal as much damage to you as successes would, and successes deal no damage at all.

You also gain a Stillness of Mind, letting you end a charming or frightening effect as an action.

13. Monk 8: Use this ASI to bring your Dexterity even higher, for a better AC and stronger attacks. Who knew monks like dex?

14. Druid 6: Bouncing back to druid one last time gives you the Land’s Stride, letting you ignore difficult terrain that isn’t made by magic. You also ignore damage from regular plants, and have advantage on saves caused by magical ones. That’s great, because going around on a deserted island with just a bikini on would otherwise be a terrible idea.

15. Druid 7: Your fourth level circle spells are Freedom of Movement and the reason we’re still in this class, Control Water. As long as the spell lasts (up to 10 minutes with concentration) you can control a 100 foot cube of water, causing it to flood, part for your nonsurfing friends, change the flow of water, or create a whirlpool. Flooding is particularly powerful- if done it water, it instead creates a 20′ tall wave that passes through the entire area, with a 25 percent chance of capsizing any Huge or smaller vehicles it catches, and carrying them to the other side. The wave even automatically repeats each turn, so yeah, you can basically shoot down any boat in the game with this.

16. Druid 8: Your last level of druid lets you fly with your wild shape, and you get another ASI for a stronger Wisdom score. You’re kicking up some serious waves now, so you have to make sure your balance is top-notch.

17. Monk 9: Ninth level monks get an Unarmored Movement Improvement, letting you walk on water and walls. Paddling’s for dorks, just run out to where the action is! (You do have to get to solid ground before the end of your turn, but your board probably counts)

18. Monk 10: Tenth level monks have a Purity of Body that makes them immune to disease and poison. Nobody wants to get sick during the summer.

19. Monk 11: Your last Drunken Master goodiebag contains Drunkard’s Luck, letting you spend 2 ki points to do a cool flip, negating disadvantage on an ability check, attack roll, or save.

20. Monk 12: Your capstone level is another ASI, maxing out your Dexterity. It’s not a flashy way to end things, but it is pretty useful.

Pros:

Like a lot of monks, you’re pretty hard to hit, with an AC of 19, the ability to disengage while still hitting people, and a solid +30 to your movement speed while in combat. It’s not even a matter of  your armor being good when people just can’t keep up.

Tidal Wave and Control Water are honestly just really good spells, albeit you need a water themed adventure to get the latter’s full power. Also, if you try to surf on your own wave your DM is legally required to give you inspiration, that’s just science.

Not only is your mobility good in combat, if you’re willing to bend canon a bit you can also combine it with your wild shape for utility. A +30 to movement plus being a bird can make moving around much easier.

Cons

Waves are cool and all, but that still means you have a heavy focus on water. If you’re going up against something that resists cold damage, or you’re in a setting that’s landlocked, you’re going to have a bad time.

Taking those druid levels slows your monk progression, and it doesn’t really pay off for this build until you get third level spells. That means you’re dumping a lot of resources into payoff way in the future, while slowing down your AC and martial arts growth.

Using a surfboard as a weapon is really cool, but how effective it is will depend entirely on what the DM makes it. If you have confidence in your DM, this isn’t an issue, but we like to make builds with the least amount of DM caveat as possible here.

[luxuriq]

Cold | Alpha!Hanzo & Alpha!Genji

> NS/FW warning < | > NON-CON WARNING <

Part 2 [coming soon]

Summary: On a cold night, an Omega takes shelter in a garden shed of a mighty estate. Little does she know that the owners are still awake.

Words: 5,123

A/N: Why is it that some of my fav kinks have to be popular in a fanfic trope that I generally dislike. (ノωヽ) Anyways, this is my first attempt at writing abo, let me know how I did. c:

❀ — ❀  — ❀

The sky was heavy with clouds, the moon and the stars hidden, making the night appear much darker. The sound of rain falling and the rustling of leaves blocked out any other noises. Her breath fogged �� it was unusually cold for late spring.

She pulled her coat tighter around herself as she ran down the empty street, hugging the wall fence like a shadow. She tried to suppress the shudders, but her clothes were almost entirely soaked through and the chill of the night was becoming really sharp. Moreover, the rain was getting stronger. She had to find shelter soon or risk hypothermia.

A batch of trees materialized out of the darkness ahead of her. Their branches reached over the wall fence, entwining with branches of the trees on the other side of the wall. That sparked an idea in her head. She’d been following this fence for a while now and she knew that the main compound building of this estate was all the way on the other side. Meaning this area here had to be a backyard. Hopefully, the owners were keen on gardening and had some kind of a shed back there.

She adjusted her backpack straps a little and swung onto one of the lower branches. The wood was slippery and her fingers almost numb from the cold so it was slow going, but she eventually managed to reach the height of the wall and peek over it. She strained her eyes to see through the dark of the deserted garden and— there! Luck was on her side. There was indeed a shed at the end of a gravel path coming from the direction of a huge mansion that was a pretty safe distance away.

She was well aware of the fact that this was risky. But her body was aching from the cold and there was a very slim chance of some rich and pretentious owner of this mansion deciding to garden at such a late hour on a rainy night. And the low trees with easy to reach branches on the estate’s side of the fence would provide a great escape route should anything go wrong.

She climbed down the branch, over the wide wall fence and dropped down into the garden. She silently landed in a crouch and sneaked through the neatly cut bushes and small trees towards the shed, ignoring the lingering feeling of dread. Her life was risky enough just because of the way she was born – there was really no need of increasing that risk by taking shelter in a garden that most certainly belonged to a powerful Alpha. And yet here she was, freezing cold and in desperate need to get dry.

After she slipped through the door, finally protected from the wind and downpour that just began, she only felt relief. Therefore, she needed a moment to process what she was seeing. There were some gardening tools in one corner, but most of the shed was filled with archery targets, bows, arrows and wooden swords.

A new wave of anxiety flooded her, but she tried to reason with it. Kyudo and kenjutsu were quite popular, especially among more traditionally oriented people. Maybe their hobby wasn’t gardening, but archery and sword-fighting – it didn’t really matter. All of these things are better performed during the day and when it’s  not raining, so no reason for anyone to come in here during the night. And tomorrow, she will be gone before sunrise.

She picked the far corner where she was hidden behind some archery targets that conveniently obstructed the view. Taking off her wet coat, she hung it to the back of one of the targets, where it could hopefully dry until tomorrow. The hoodie underneath was mostly dry, as well as a small blanket in her waterproof backpack. Her jeans were a different matter, cold wet stains uncomfortable against her skin, but she decided against taking them off. It felt too much like exposing herself.

She dug into her backpack again, pulling out a small bottle and a bar of chocolate. She took a sip of her home-made concoction, completely unaffected by the taste that once made her gag and the burning sensation down her throat. She was just glad it worked as well as it did – her nerve-wracking, anxiety-inducing heats were a thing of the past, which meant she was in control of her body at all times, and although some Alpha might still sniff her out … well, she never stayed in one place long enough for that to happen. She wasn’t exactly sure about all of the side-effects of her home-made suppressants, but the recipe she based it on might have warned about bad things happening to one’s reproduction organs if used without break. Maybe that was the reason she used it so excessively. She refused to let whatever twisted fate that made her what she was define her life even more. Like being completely out of control once a month wasn’t enough, she would not have any Alpha – or anyone else for that matter – control her for the rest of the time when she was sane enough. She refused to be someone’s private pup factory.

And so she took one more little sip, silently cheering to possible infertility, and then stuffed her mouth full of chocolate. Pulling the blanket over her, she curled into a ball, adjusting her position on the floor in an attempt to find the most comfortable one.

She barely managed to close her eyes when she heard the sound that immediately flung her into a state of panic.

Footsteps. Getting closer.

As quickly as she could, she freed herself from the blanket cocoon and tugged on her dark coat. She pressed herself against one of the targets, fishing a knife out of the inner pocket of her coat. She didn’t have to wait long for the door of the shed to slid open.

“Man, what a downpour!”

It was a man’s voice. She gripped her knife tighter.

She couldn’t see what he was doing, but there was a sound of wood clattering (maybe the practice swords colliding?) while he was humming a catchy tune. She stayed behind her cover completely still, although everything in her head was screaming to either fight or run. Her knuckles were turning white from the tight grip she had on the handle of her knife and she prayed to whatever deity that might be listening for the man to go away.

Then the humming stopped. She held her breath. There was no sound of the door closing. What was he doing? Her eyes frantically searched for an escape route.

The footsteps – slower this time – heading towards the back of the shed.

Her body was tense as a bowstring, ready to leap at whatever came around the line of targets. Briefly, she realized that her hands were shaking.

A man appeared before her, his short green hair drenched in rain or sweat she couldn’t tell. She didn’t pay much attention to his appearance because as soon as the stench of an Alpha filled her nose, she flung herself at him like a feral cat. Her knife connected, cutting down his forearm, and he let out a surprised yelp. Almost at the same time, his other hand reached after her and she stabbed her knife in the direction it was coming from. He pulled away just in time to avoid the blade, taking a step back and crashing into some gardening tools.

With his hands finally at his sides, she leapt away from him, but in a different direction than the one she charged from – towards the door, towards freedom.

“Don’t try to follow me,” she snarled, her knife still pointed at the man as she retreated towards the door.

The green-haired Alpha was just staring at her like he couldn’t quite process what was happening.

She took another step back, already feeling the breeze coming through the open door. Almost there. A smile was threatening to surface and she had to bite her lip to keep it under control. Her wide eyes were reflecting a mix of panic, terror and a manic feeling of being victorious, which made for quite a terrifying sight.

And then her back bumped into something hard, stopping her dead in her tracks. Her heart sank. She was almost too afraid to turn around and face the new threat.

“What is the cause of this commotion?” came a deep voice from behind her.

The decision was made in a split second. She swiftly spun around and stabbed at whoever was standing behind her. A hand caught her wrist and held it in an iron grip, forcing her to drop her weapon. She slowly looked up into a pair of cold, dark eyes.

She wanted to scream in despair, but she was completely frozen by his watchful gaze. His Alpha scent was both haunting and intoxicating, and she resented her body for betraying her so easily.

“An intruder,” the newcomer said in an icy tone. “You will be punished for trespassing.”

He inhaled deeply through his nose and blinked. He leaned a little closer and sniffed the air again.

“What is it, brother?” the other one asked, taking a step closer and sniffing the air as well.

His eyes suddenly turned predatory, “Oh. Is that ...”

“Luck favours us, Genji. We must go and tell Father to cease the negotiations immediately. A stray Omega just waltzed right into our home. For free.” The dark-haired Alpha in front of her was watching her intently.

“Wait, you mean we can’t have her right now?” the green-hair – Genji – asked, staring at his brother in disbelief. “It’s been so long since we last touched an Omega! C’mon, Hanzo! You know Father doesn’t like to be disturbed during the night. We can tell him tomorrow and in the meantime, get acquainted with our new little Omega here.”

Hanzo thought for a second, then nodded. “We have to make sure she is worthy of carrying an heir to the Shimada clan.”

They were talking about her like she wasn’t even there, like she was just some object free for them to take. That’s what pissed her off about Alphas the most. And before she could think it all through, she punched Hanzo in the face.

He moved just enough for her to miss his nose, her fist connecting with his cheekbone instead. The grip on her wrist loosened up a little and she tried to yank it free.

It didn’t work, however. He gripped her even tighter with both hands, fury flashing in his eyes.

“How dare you,” he growled.

“Let go of me,” she demanded, but her shaky voice betrayed her.

“Omegas were made to be claimed by the Alphas. It’s in your nature,” Hanzo was saying through his gritted teeth as he hoisted her up and threw her over his shoulder.

She kicked her feet and banged at his muscular back with her fists, “In my nature my ass!”

“We are doing you a favour. You have gone completely feral without a proper Alpha to take care of you. Once we knot you, you will calm down,” Hanzo continued and started walking away from the shed.

“Let me go!” she screamed again and again, but the dark-haired Alpha was deaf to her pleas.

“Well, at least she’s got spirit. I think she will be perfect for us,” Genji commented in a light conversational tone as he trailed behind his brother and the Omega. “This late-night training session really paid off, isn’t that right, Hanzo?”

~

She didn’t see much of her surroundings as the Alphas navigated through the estate, her vision blurred by the tears of despair. A sound of doors sliding open and then she was falling. A rather comfortable futon eased her landing and she quickly scrambled onto all fours and looked around.

They brought her into a smaller tatami room, traditionally decorated and mostly empty. The sheets smelled faintly of flowers – more importantly, they didn’t smell like any of the Alphas, which meant that this was probably a guest bedroom or something similar. And there was only one escape route: through the door blocked by both of the Alphas.

She didn’t want to just sit on the futon and be an easy target, but she also didn’t want to back away. Where to? Being caught in a corner seemed even less appealing.

Before she could really commit to anything, Hanzo was crouching beside her, tugging her coat off her. She pulled her arms closer to her body, glaring at him in defiance.

“Cooperate or I will cut the clothes off your body,” the dark-haired Alpha growled.

She felt that Alpha growl all the way down in the pit of her stomach, her Omega instincts slowly awakening. At that moment, she hated herself, her body for responding to what she did not want and the twisted fate that made her this pathetic, submissive creature. Finding a nice Alpha mate who would take care of their Omega? That was just some fairytale bullshit. All Alphas were assholes, thinking they owned every Omega they came across. There were no happy endings for the ones like her in this world.

Her body was screaming to submit to the Alpha in front of her and yet she continued to scowl at him, her arms crossed over her chest.

Suddenly, Genji appeared on the other side of her, crouching down and caressing her cheek with the back of his fingers. She jerked away from him, surprised by the gentle gesture.

Hanzo took advantage of the distraction and grabbed the hem of her hoodie, pulling it up. She quickly put her hands down, keeping them pressed to her body and refusing to let him lift the fabric. But then Genji grabbed her wrists and with combined strengths, they unceremoniously stripped her of her clothes.

She shivered as the cold air enveloped her bare skin, pulling her knees to her chest and wrapping her arms around them. As she moved, the feeling of slickness between her legs became more apparent and it was mortifying. Wide-eyed, she stared at the Alphas, waiting for them to pounce. Hanzo was watching her with a focus of a predator, despite in the middle of taking off his clothes. Genji was also maintaining eye-contact with her as he brought something to his nose, inhaling deeply. She recognized the bunched-up fabric as her underwear and she grimaced.

“Your scent is delicious, Omega,” he purred as he dropped the fabric and began stripping his clothes as well.

Hanzo was way ahead of him – already naked and advancing on her. Her gaze involuntarily trailed down his muscular body and to the hand stroking his almost fully erect Alpha cock. This was the first time she was seeing one in person and it made her both terrified and wanting. Even in this state, it was already bigger than any of the silicone replacements she had been using to ease her heats.

“Brother, wait,” Genji said, placing his hand onto Hanzo’s shoulder.

For some reason, a little spark of hope that he will stop this horrible thing and let her go appeared in her head.

“I found the Omega,” he continued in a rather neutral voice. “It is only fair that I get to breed her first.”

“And I caught the Omega,” Hanzo growled at him. “If it were only you, she would have gotten away.”

Dismissing him, the dark-haired Alpha turned to face her again.

“Open your legs, little Omega. I can smell your arousal,” he growled, but it was a different kind of a sound, one that made her core throb.

She tightened her grip around her legs, glaring at him with silent hatred.

His face darkened. With no warning whatsoever, he grabbed her ankles and pulled her legs towards him, making her fall onto her back. As an immediate response, she started kicking and flailing her arms.

“Let go of me!” she screamed, trying to aim her kicks at his face but with little success.

Hanzo held her ankles in a painfully strong grip, no signs of it letting up. The hopelessness of the situation was demoralising, but she didn’t stop squirming in his grip. He lifted his hands, pulling her legs up and in turn bringing her body closer. She twisted around as best as she could and gripped the futon in the final attempt to escape.

Another pair of hands gripped her wrists, forcing her to let go and flipped her back around. She knew it was Genji who now had her hands pinned down to the ground above her head, could see the flash of his green hair as he moved into a better position, towering above her.

“Hush, little Omega,” the younger Alpha purred. “We’ll make you feel real good, I promise.”

She looked at Hanzo with tears in her eyes. There was no way she could escape them.

“Please,” she sobbed, finally going limp in their hands.

Begging was her last resort – not that she had any hopes for it.

Silently, Hanzo gripped her ankles in one hand, using the other to guide his hefty cock to her weeping cunt.

“Please, I don’t want this,” she whispered, the image of the Alpha in front of her blurred due to her tears.

“Your body is telling me otherwise,” Hanzo said in a low voice. “Begging me to fill you, to breed you, give you the knot it so desperately wants.”

The head of his cock pressed against her slick folds. Her whole body tensed up in both anticipation and fear. She closed her eyes, the thought of watching him do this to her unbearable. She wanted it to hurt, she wanted her body to hate it. But when Hanzo’s girth finally entered her tight channel – the penetration practically effortless due to how wet she was, it was anything but painful.

The way his cock filled her up, reaching deep and stretching her walls so perfectly, was better than anything she’d ever used during her past heats. Another wave of pleasure raked through her body as Hanzo thrust into her again, her body reacting in a completely opposite way than her mind. She tried to hold on to that little bit of sanity she had left, tried to convince her body that this was not what she wanted; and yet, her pussy clenched down on the Alpha’s cock like her life depended on it, her back arching as every snap of his hips sent a sweet sensation through her body.

“No,” she whimpered quietly.

Hanzo changed his grip again, holding her by the back of her knees and keeping her legs slightly spread apart up in the air. This position gave him more access and he immediately set a punishing pace. His cock suddenly felt thicker and more filling, especially around the base, teasing her tight entrance even more intensely … With horror, she realized that his knot was already forming and she was fairly certain Hanzo wouldn’t be pulling out.

As an automatic reaction accompanying her urge to get away, she started wriggling in his grip again, which resulted in a situation quite the opposite of what she wanted. The Omega responding seemed to motivate Hanzo even further and he started pounding into her even more ferociously. She could only cry out and she wasn’t even sure if it was in protest or pleasure.

She barely even noticed Genji adjusting his hold on her wrists, now doing it with only one hand.

With his free hand, he gently petted her head and murmured soothingly, “You’re taking him so well, Omega. You’ll be perfect for us.”

She jerked away from him, startled by the tenderness of his touch.

“If you promise you will not kick, I will touch you. You would like that, wouldn’t you, Omega? Me playing with your clit while I breed you and make you come,” Hanzo purred, seemingly unaffected by how fast he was thrusting into her.

Her body screamed for some attention on that part of her body; wanted it, craved the high it will bring.

Mustering up all of her resolve and courage, she spat in his face, “I don’t want you to touch me. Anywhere. At all.”

She had thought he would be pissed, had mentally prepared for it and was willing to accept the consequences. However, the dark-haired Alpha only chuckled darkly, his thrusts suddenly slowing down to powerful snaps of his hips all the way in and all the way out. His knot had grown and was now harshly pushing and tugging at her cunt every time he moved, sending little jolts of pleasure through her body.

“Oh, I will enjoy breaking you into submission, my feisty little Omega.”

Hanzo leaned down and pressed his nose against her neck, humming appreciatively. His beard felt all prickly against her sweaty skin and she grimaced. He inhaled her scent again and licked her neck.

She wanted to scream in frustration, but the breathy sound that left her mouth was something entirely different. Hanzo ripped his half-formed knot out of her and she sobbed in a mix of pain and pleasure. Against all odds, she hoped it wouldn’t fit back in, but she had a hunch Hanzo will make it fit. He rammed back into her, knot and all, the tip of his cock hitting her cervix and making her yelp.

Suddenly, Hanzo yanked her up and flipped her onto her stomach, his cock staying buried deep inside of her. She tried to crawl away, but his firm chest pressed against her back, squishing her against the futon. His hips were moving in a slow rock. Her eyes widened in panic as his knot swelled to its final size, stretching her cunt to its limits. She choked out a quiet moan.

The feeling of being this full, this stretched out couldn’t compare to anything she had ever felt before. And beyond all the pleasure, the fear, the throbbing of her tight walls, there was a sense of completion, a sense of accomplishing something she was supposed to do. It was a dreadful feeling.

Hanzo’s loud moan pulled her out of her thoughts and in the next moment, there was an explosion of warmth in her belly as he painted her walls with his thick Alpha cum. A shudder ran down her spine, a more primal side finally taking over and relishing the feeling of this powerful Alpha breeding her so well. She arched her back, her cunt squeezing down on his knot, wanting more.

Hanzo let out a quiet grunt and rolled to his side, pulling her with him. Pushing his legs in-between hers, he kept them spread open while his hand dived straight for her core.

“Milk my knot. Beg me to give you more,” he growled.

When the rough pads of his fingers finally made contact with her sensitive nub, her body ignited in pleasure. It was due to both: Hanzo expertly playing with her clit and that delicious, hefty knot stretching her walls to oblivion. She barely even noticed Genji lying down next to them. He lazily tugged at his pre-come-dripping dick, watching his brother force an orgasm out of the Omega with interest.

It didn’t take long before she was writhing in his arms as waves of pleasure hit her like a storm – suddenly and strong. Too strong. Her pussy clamped down on Hanzo’s cock, making him groan and buck his hips as he released the final drops of his seed into her womb.  She mewled quietly at this peculiar feeling of fullness in her belly, something she has never experienced before.

As the high calmed down, she sagged against the Alpha’s body and closed her eyes. Hanzo silently rearranged her limbs so that she was lying in a fetal position with his hand resting over her belly. It was the middle of the night, she was exhausted, well-bred and wanted nothing more than to fall asleep. And when she woke up, maybe this nightmare would be over.

Her eyes snapped open. She was tied to an Alpha who she did not know, who did not ask if she wanted this, who was most likely intending to keep her after he kidnapped her; and then there was another Alpha who was waiting to have his go with her and was guilty of all the same things. She felt like she was going to throw up.

She wasn’t sure how much time passed until Hanzo’s knot finally dissipated. She stubbornly kept her eyes closed throughout the whole waiting period, not only to make it more bearable but also to ignore the green-haired Alpha lying beside her, giving her the hungriest eyes she had ever seen.

When Hanzo finally pulled out, a copious amount of his thick cum flowed out of her spent cunt. But it was no time for celebrations. Hanzo’s hands hadn’t even left her body yet when she was yanked out of his grasp with ease.

She was on her back again, in the same position as before, but this time with Genji on top of her.

“Finally you’re mine, sweet Omega,” he purred into her ear.

At least she got the big bad out of the way first. Genji seemed nicer compared to his brother, gentler even.

“I wanted to make our first mating special and long,” he continued, “but my dear brother took his time, torturing me with the view. I’m afraid I won’t be able to last very long.”

He pushed back her legs, almost folding her in half. Wasting no time, he pressed the tip of his cock against her entrance. Thanks to her and Hanzo’s mixed fluids, it slipped in smoothly and with a lewd squelch accompanying it. Immediately, he thrust all the way in, making her gasp in surprise.

“Fuck, you feel amazing,” Genji moaned.

Holding her hands above her head, he practically lay down on top of her, keeping her legs spread with his body. There was no warm-up, just a brutal pace right from the beginning. She saw stars every time his massive Alpha cock hit her cervix, but not in a pleasant way. And yet there was some twisted pleasure coming from the fact that he was so close to her womb.

His knot had already started forming – he wasn’t lying about this being a quick session. And yet Genji fucked like it wasn’t even there, pushing it in and out of her sensitive pussy like a madman. She squirmed underneath him, crying out repeatedly.

“I love how you sing for me,” Genji purred.

He nuzzled her neck, inhaling deeply. Then his teeth grazed her skin and she froze. An Alpha knotting her was definitely bad, but Alpha’s teeth anywhere near her neck was a lot worse.

“I would love to make you mine,” he hummed. “A little bite is all it takes...”

“Watch it,” Hanzo interrupted him with a hiss.

She glanced to the side. Hanzo was lounging on the futon some distance away from them, showing off his naked body with no particular care. It was almost like he had been taking a nap until his brother’s words woke him up and now he was glaring daggers at Genji through half-lidded eyes.

Genji didn’t pay much attention to the other Alpha. He only chuckled lowly, dangerously.

“Maybe Father will let you pick your mate. I wonder who you would choose.”

He brought his hand up to her neck and slowly pressed down. Her eyes widened and she started wriggling underneath him in panic. That made Genji chuckle and he pressed down on her neck even more, not enough to completely cut the air off, but enough to make her struggle.

“Don’t,” she wheezed, her hand gripping his wrist. “Please.”

Genji leaned in, his mouth open slightly as if mimicking her; the corners of his lips curled upward in a devilish grin. He was watching her with interest as he squeezed her neck more firmly, effectively cutting off her airways. She opened and closed her mouth like a fish on the land, her eyes wide with terror. She had thought Hanzo was the worse one; that he was the brute. But Genji was even worse, manipulating her into a fake sense of security and then fucking her just as ruthlessly.

The green-haired Alpha let out a breathy chuckle and whispered, “You’re squeezing down on my cock like crazy. I think you might actually be enjoying this.”

Just when her vision started to get a bit blurry, he released his hold on her neck and she sucked in a lungful of air. And yet the relief was short-lived. Genji’s knot had grown considerably, had gotten almost too big to fit in, so when he rammed it in, the mix of pain and pleasure made her gasp.

He moaned loudly, shamelessly, his hips continuing to rock against her despite his knot already locking in. It made her toes curl and she found herself walking right on the edge of another climax. His hips only stilled when he was ready to add to the mess inside of her, filling her up with his thick seed to the point of where she thought she might burst.

Genji ground his hips against her a bit longer, determined to give her everything he had; and in doing so, he managed to push her off the edge again. She moaned when a shock of pleasure ran through her body, sparks dancing in her vision, her fingers digging into the futon. The reaction was purely physical, but the high was so intense that she completely forgot about the reality of the situation, her brain kicking back into primal mode again. And with her mind clouded from all of the different sensations, she simply found it very satisfying – being full of Alpha cum like this.

Genji eventually rolled onto his back, pulling her on top of him. She was exhausted, her womb full of rich Alpha seed, her pussy still gripping a solid knot; she didn’t put up much of a fight. Her head was resting against his chest and she was able to hear his heartbeat, still going a bit faster than normal. His hand found its way to her lower back, his thumb caressing her skin soothingly.

“You did so well, sweet Omega,” the green-haired Alpha purred lazily. “You will be an irreplaceable addition to the Shimada clan.”

A hum of agreement came from somewhere in Hanzo’s direction.

His words caused a shiver to run down her spine, her blood suddenly turning to ice. This nightmare was only just beginning. Despite the proximity of Genji’s body, she suddenly felt really cold.

❀

[of-tatooine]

honor him. | chapter 3 - ready or not

an Empress is killed and a new era of constant guilt dawns upon you.

Gray tiles over the rooftops contrasted the clear blue beauty of the Dunwall skies on the 18th of the Month of Earth. The uneven skyline decorated with the light smoke rising from the numerous chimneys scattered around the peaks.

The Tower stood tall and pristine, overlooking the gloomy city. White blocks of stone reflecting the sunlight, light blue drapes, embellished with the Kaldwin family crest, swaying ever so slightly to the beautiful dance of the wind. Flowers flourishing across the vast gardens of the Tower, the waves of the river licking at the edges of the walls.

It was an unusually beautiful day to be a royal. Years back, when you were fighting off stragglers and gang members in the streets of Karnaca, even dreaming about being this close to royalty had been out of question. You never had time for such useless fantasies when the reality had been proving to be nothing less than ruthless and cold.  

It was quite ironic - in contrast to the deeds your kin would commit, it was as if the Outsider had cursed you with sunshine and warmth to make you never forget the moments to come.

Commotion. A deafening, sickening sound of machinery turning in its cogs and screws, digging into your skull like daggers. Screams, thick boots thudding against the wooden floors, making the entire ground shake. Your younger feet descending the carpet-covered stairs of your apartment rapidly, heart about to burst out of your chest. The usual faint whale songs you would otherwise gladly welcome in your mind then subdued by the creaking music echoing through the narrow foyer - to be replaced with the cries of the one you loved the most.  

Every single little detail about that night was still alive and burning in your mind, just like how the events of the present day would hurt your conscience for years to come. There you stood, up on the rooftops of the tower, leaning against one of the chimneys which concealed your red-leather clad figure, the higher up vantage point giving you an unobstructed view of the gazebo.

So far, everything had been going according to the assault plan Daud had spent a couple of months perfecting - couple Whalers holding up the smaller edge closer to where the target stood, with Daud waiting alongside them for an easier transversal. The remaining Whalers all positions up on the roofs, blending into the navy blue tiles, some setting up lookouts on top of the water lock, and you staying on the lookout on the furthest end of the to ensure a safe escape route. There was no room for error, not even a single breath could be taken out of order.

This was the mission that would change the Whalers, affect every single living piece of soul of the Empire and the blood would soon be all over your hands. Every one of your fellow assassins felt it inside - felt the balances and the energies shift in haste of what’s to come, some sort of dark hunch in all of their souls, yet no one could put it into words nor admit it.

Many of those who noticed you merely guarding the furthest tower away from the gazebo, very much unlike the key roles you had in past contracts, did not dare confront you or Daud about it - they simply knew better than to be scolded by the master assassin to focus on the mission of their lives. Nothing escaped the sight nor the quick wit of Billie Lurk though, you remembered, as she appeared right near you, causing you to shift your position to face her.

“What’d you do this time to make him mad?” she would ask in a tone you could not discern beneath the muffling of the vapor mask, combined with the ringing in your head with the added stress of the mission.

That had caught you by slight surprise - although you were used to Lurk’s teasing intrusions and insights just about everything as you would train together and plan out how to approach missions, you had been silently hoping every Whaler to be so preoccupied about the job at hand as they should have been, that they would not pay attention to one assassin’s uncharacteristic task.  You would only shrug at her, tilting your head slightly and letting out a muffled breath. “Just following the old man’s orders.”

If only she knew. If only she knew the resolve it took for you not to crumble right there and then, how hard it had been for you to sound emotionless and nonchalant.

She would change towards you, talk different and act different, you did not have a single doubt about that. Maybe she would look at you with pity, or she would remove all her trust from you for being such a weak soul unable to get anything done because you were so caught up in your memories.

Either way, revealing the truth was something you could not afford.

The seasoned assassin shrugged with a simple mumble of “fair enough”. Billie knew better not to dive into personal details during high-risk missions, or during anything else - she had been an enigma of her own, ever since Daud had brought her in. You did not mind.

Her, you could look at. You could even sneak glances at the Empress’s silhouette with her famous up-do, her hands against the marble fences of the gazebo as she gazed over her city, unaware of her approaching demise. Hiram Burrows, the sick man behind this litany, talking to her with his hands clasped behind his back, with his crooked face and sneering attitude that spoke of no rainbows and sunshine.

But your covered orbs beneath the mask would not dare sneak a glance towards your master, who stood rigid as ever in his position minus the mask he adorned usually. He did not dare look at you either - after all, you had been two souls who knew this was wrong, so wrong, this entire mission was all sorts of wrong and it must, under any circumstance, be stoppe-

The loud thuds of the water lock bringing in a skiff echoed across the walls all of a sudden.

The hairs on your neck rose in response to the sheer suspense - according to the plan, no guests were expected to the Tower in the morning. The damn water-lock was supposed to be sealed towards any outside traffic from the river. That bastard Burrows himself had assured you no one would intervene when you landed on the gazebo after he was done briefing the Empress. Besides a few corrupt guards and maids, no other key staff to royalty was supposed to be on the premises.

Billie’s alarmed stance found yours, no doubt having the same racing thoughts in her mind as you, whereas the stress of the unknown pawn in your mission made you finally manage to look at Daud. His jaw was clenched as he shook his head at you, sensing your gaze on him, his gloved hand held upwards in a closed fist as he signaled his small army to stand by till someone could identify who was coming. You could feel the nerves of the fellow assassins tightening - it was vital everything went according to the plan, word by word, minute by minute on a mission as impossible as this. The Whalers could not afford any last-minute unknowns into the equation, not this time.

“Corvo! You’re back!” you hear the young girl exclaim in the happiest cute little voice you have ever heard as she ran towards the tall figure waiting to take her in his open arms.

No. No, no, no.

He was not supposed to be here till the 20th. The Royal Protector being away was the main guarantee Daud had made sure when he was taking up the mission. This was not supposed to happen.

When this was all done, if you survived, you would give your heart and soul to the Outsider just to stab one of your sharpest blades into that crooked, scrawny throat of Burrows, for omitting this piece of information that changed everything.

If there had been anyone who deserved to die that day, it would have been that sniveling bastard. But no, he just had to hire you to do his dirty work for him and his forsaken conspiracy. You knew one thing - he would not omit the supposed presence of Corvo unless he had something to gain from it.

Just how he planned to use him in the grand scheme of things was still a mystery to you, one that made your blood go cold.

Transversing closer to the edge of the roof with a clearer view of the lower tower entrance, something inside you was on the verge of breaking as you saw the Lord Protector hug little Emily, the child inviting him towards the back gardens for a quick game of hide and seek.

Innocent and pure, the total opposite of the acts you would commit later on. Of the world the little girl would be thrown into after her mother has died - a world of corruption, hatred, fright and cruelty.

Just like the one you had been thrown into without a choice, all those years ago.

Jaw-clenched, you walked with a certain quick determination towards the chimney Lurk was still holed up near, overlooking the strike point yet her mask was focused on you. The way you approached with a certain rigidness and unease now even more evident in your movements and they certainly did not get unnoticed by the assassin. Your fists clenched as you held onto the tiles, crouching. Waiting,  as well as you could, with your heart beating out of your chest.

Just how many lives would be ruined that day? At that point, you had lost all hope in counting. How many would be stabbed and how much blood would be spilled all over the crisp white marble? Souls left to perish, so one more rich bastard with less than honorable motives could rise to the throne and throw the entire Empire to dust?

The clock was ticking against your favor. The Lord Protector could already be seen making his way towards the gazebo, the little girl trailing just a couple steps in front. The crooked bastard Burrows lingering to exchange some words with him before he reached the Empress.

All of these thoughts, these truthful yet dangerous ramblings in your mind making your ears ring, shots of adrenaline and some sort of determination started to coax through your veins. Something needed to be done, someone needed to stop this right then and there, before Daud sent the first wave of assassins in. Only the Outsider knew what would happen next if you did not intervene - after all, you personally could confirm no one was a match to Corvo in a duel, if the years hadn’t changed him.

You needed to reach Daud and get him to call this entire thing off. Fast.

Suddenly, you caved into your morality as your hand lifted up, engulfed in darkness, and your body lunged forward quickly - only to be stopped by a forceful wind blasting you back, as you tumbled backwards with a muffled gasp escaping your mouth. The blast muting your fall as the sheer power in your hands ceased. Under the skies of Dunwall,  the intimidating mask of Lurk was standing over you, shadows lurking around her gloved hand directed towards your frame.

“This is meant to be. This one, you cannot change, Lieutenant,” she spoke, crouching to your level. The sickening clangs of swords mixed in with screams as your chest heaved with breaths. Daud had sent his first wave in.

“We can only watch.”

So you did. 

Each second passing adding another flame to the frustrated fire burning inside you, you got up with a quiet snarl, leaning against the stones with your sights set towards the gazebo.

You could only watch when Daud slapped the Empress before wrapping his hands around her throat.

You could only watch as she fought him helplessly before the assassin put his blade through her weakened body.

You could only watch when Thomas grabbed the poor little Lady, with the Lord Protector disheveled and damaged on the floor. And you could only watch as Billie gave the signal to head back to base.

It killed you.

It killed you to your core, made your bones go stone cold, your heart break into a million pieces into the Void. The droplets of royal blood leaking on the floors from Daud’s blade felt as if it had been your own blood spilled. It hurt as such.

It was the Void’s parting gift to you that your master ordered to travel back to base before you could witness the corrupted bastards hold the helpless Royal Protector accountable as the one person he had sworn to protect died in his arms.

[darklightsworld]

Hello, I remember you saying some time ago you didn't like how female characters are portrayed in (current) anime because of how annoying and, maybe, misogynistic their archetypes are. Could you maybe elaborate on this point? I feel similar but can't articulate well and always end up feeling like I'm the one being misogynistic whenever this type of subject comes up in conversation x.x Sorry if this comes up as too personal.

Sorry about the late reply, I have been busy with a conference. Also sorry, because my answer is a bit long and all over the place ^^;

This is a difficult question, especially because nowadays people like to think in black and white, and everything is so extreme, like if they don’t like something, then it must be wrong and eliminated, not to mention the policing of every content based to this – which kills diversity and dismisses personal (and gendered) preferences. What I think is really a personal preference and not exactly a general critique of female characters in anime, especially because there are many factors to consider (genre, age and gender or the target audience, cultural background, etc.), and there’s also the audience with its multiple readings.

Personally I dislike most female character types manga and anime has to give, because I’m not really a person for overly feminine and girly things. The Japanese ideal is very cutesy and it’s the standard in both media for men, women and also real life. Not just looks, there is also the behavior side of things, the cutesy, childish, girly ideal, the passivity, helplessness, pretending to be stupid, etc, and I outright hate it when female characters are treated as stupid, clumsy messes. The question is, though, is this ideal really conservative and an embodiment of the toxic patriarchal system? Actually not necessarily. They definitely originate from the oppressive system, but over the decades girls made these ideals their own, and turned them into a weapon to get what they want. Even in real life, fashion is very feminine for me, always with frills, ribbons, flitters, tons of dresses and skirts, and it’s difficult to find plain clothes without any decoration, not to mention all the cuteness in goods and stuff, but as for the behavior of girls and women, the cutesy ideal seems more like a role to be played at a certain age or for certain purposes, like getting things they want and eventually the man. A woman, who didn’t like this ideal herself defined it as “they had to play the wounded deer”. Actually women, who use this role too much and even among women, are usually hated – this is the infamous burikko.

But no matter how they were in their younger years, married women don’t use this role anymore, and they seamlessly slip into a different identity, one that rules the family and the finances with iron fist (I’m stereotyping) – nothing cutesy, helpless or stupid about that. The Japanese themselves are aware of this cutesy role, both men and women, it’s their version of cunning flirtatiousness, it’s just a very different type of flirtatiousness than in the West. For example, there is currently even a tv show enacting certain situations where this cutesy behavior is used to get the man, and the hosts rate how effective the cutesy behavior was. But while I understand intellectually that these are not necessarily misogynistic stereotypes, I have some kind of a visceral hatred for them. The above tv show makes me outright nauseous. It’s a personal preference, and I don’t think I have to like these character types. But I also don’t think they should be erased from Japanese media, and it would be a mistake trying to push my very independent Western values onto such a different culture, so I rather avoid these characters – which is not easy.

So, what does this mean for anime and manga? Both are largely determined by genres (manga more than anime), genres work with clean-cut character types, tropes, traditions and reader expectation, so there is a reason why female (and male) characters are the way they are in different genres. Male-oriented works will obviously have female characters that appeal to men even if the work doesn’t have in your face fanservice shots (though let’s face it, if it’s anime, most of them do). I don’t like these female character types, I don’t think I have to like them, they are clearly not geared toward me, but I also don’t think they shouldn’t be there in a clearly male-oriented media. Sure, there can be discussions about removing overly exploitive situations, harassment and rape or things like that, but I’m not really against letting men have their fun – because I expect to have that same freedom in media geared toward women. There are occasionally unisex anime, but usually they still serve one or the other demographic in a way, and I don’t think it’s possible to create truly unisex anime that everybody will be satisfied with – fanservice for women will always bother men, and fanservice for men will always bother women.

Shōjo manga is a more difficult question, because somewhere in the 70s romance started to focus on imperfect heroines who still got the best guy, because he loved them regardless of their imperfections (“I love you the way you are”), and since then the genre is full of the stupid, clumsy, indecisive, housewife material archetype without any dreams beyond getting the boy (or very old-school women job dreams), which does not appeal to me either, so I usually avoid most romance shōjo manga, especially the high school variant, and even most josei manga, because I don’t care for the adult version of the same with marriage as the end goal *shrug* Actually it’s not even about these things only, like, I disliked Arte too (though not shōjo manga), despite it trying (and failing) to pose as a feminist social commentary, just because the mc way annoying. Fortunately there are a lot of other types of shōjo manga as well, even with more appealing female characters or the best, without female characters (plus the whole BL scene), so it’s not all that bad, at least in manga, not so much in anime. Interestingly, I’m much more compatible with shōjo manga by fujoshi artists. If I like a shōjo manga, usually the artist ends up coming out as a fujoshi after a while by posting BL fanart on her twitter or drawing outright BL manga – it’s been a pattern XD

Anime is more difficult, but I also admit, that my tastes might be extreme. In Japan there are many female fans who love the cute female characters of male-oriented media. Many women like Love Live, for example, because the girls are, I quote, “so cuuuuuute” – while I am fighting nausea… Yeah, Japan is imbued with cute. It’s especially difficult, because I’m usually not willing to watch a series even if there are such female characters in supporting roles or as a second protagonist with male characters I would love to see (Cop Craft was a recent-ish example). And while I avoid female only casts on principle, sometimes there are surprises. For example, the Yashahime anime has terrible writing, but I don’t hate the three main female characters (even if occasionally the anime has some iffy things to say about femininity).

I also mentioned multiple readings. It is important to note that the audience does not necessarily interpret everything the same, especially if there are cultural differences. One of the most famous examples for this is Sailor Moon, which was the incarnation of girl power and emancipation in the West in the 90s, but it has the same “dumb heroine gets the dream guy” trope, and the same conservative message of getting married and giving birth to children as any average shōjo manga, and the same “so cuuuuute” packaging. It really depends on the audience what they get away with.

All in all there are preferences, genre conventions, cultural differences, so the whole thing is quite difficult. But I don’t think you need to be worried about not liking or being uncomfortable with certain character types. And it would be a stretch to consider tastes like mine, for example, misogynistic. Sure, even in real life I make a wide berth around overly girly or feminine women (among others), but it can’t be helped, you can’t like and be friends with everyone, and I guess they wouldn’t like me or wanting to be my friend either. And that’s fine, and I don’t think it’s misogynistic for me to reject certain types of femininity for myself and to interact with, as long as I don’t want to erase or invalidate them, or deem them as inferior – and I don't. Of course, this is the attitude I expect towards myself as well. Live and let live 🖖

[teddy-bear-surprise]

Chapter 9: Exit

Masterlist

|| Chapter 1 || Chapter 2 || Chapter 3 || Chapter 4 || Chapter 5 || Chapter 6 || Chapter 7 Part 1 || Chapter 7 Part 2 || Chapter 8 || Almost The End || Chapter 9 ||

The past three and a half weeks had dragged Spencer through all seven levels of hell and back. All remainders of his sense of identity had been stripped away and then stuck back together with dollar-store duct tape. Even with his eidetic memory, superior cognitive skills, and years of extensive psychological training, Spencer had been susceptible to all of Ophelia’s tricks. Every single vision, thought, and emotion that entered Spencer’s conscious mind was hand-crafted and transplanted deep within his mind by Ophelia. He was stuck in a prison that he would never escape, but that was only half the story.

Ophelia was undoubtedly a bright person, though it seemed wrong to pay someone so nefarious such a compliment, and she had devised a detailed and thorough plan. That very plan was what led to Spencer’s downfall. Nothing could stop her once she had her eye set on a goal, and sinking her talons into Spencer’s mind was no different.

Many scientists liked to say that when a person is exposed to high levels of anxiety for prolonged periods of time, their brains will translate every ordinary experience into a moment of desperation. Every moment becomes life or death. Black and white. Winning or losing. And that was all Spencer could see.

Even if he did not explicitly feel his anxiety in that moment, Ophelia’s methods left him exposed to every one of her schemes. He was unaware of his extensive obedience, not complying intentionally, but with an iron fist of fear wrapped around his heart. But each time he acted in Ophelia’s favor, the fist loosened.

As the days rolled by, slowly at first, Spencer began to feel more and more drawn towards her. His fearful heart palpitations shifted into anxious flutters. When he saw Ophelia now, rather than sensing dread in his gut, he felt a kaleidoscope of butterflies in his stomach. It wasn’t shocking that three extensive weeks with an attractive captor led to Spencer’s strong case of Stockholm Syndrome. It happened all the time, and while Ophelia hadn’t planned for it, it proved to be useful.

For the first week, Ophelia would repeat the same routine every day, only modifying the temperature of the interrogation room to add a little kick to her “game”. And every day, Spencer would look at her with the same scared and confused look on his face. Ophelia, obviously, would just ignore it. Every day she would let him get a bit closer to her, making him feel like there was progress being made, that she trusted him, only to trick him and treat him like scum the next day. She tore down the very structure of his understanding of trust. Eyes wide open with fear, Spencer would learn to be wary of every movement that Ophelia made. He slept lightly, listening for the sounds of her footsteps and mentally preparing himself when they did approach him. Though as much as he tried, he was never really prepared for what followed.

Then the next week came along, and suddenly Spencer was spending every waking moment alone. He sat in solitude, hearing nothing more than the sound of his own breath and fabric crinkling whenever he moved. The closest thing to human contact he got during those days was Ophelia pushing a small tray of food into his room at breakfast, lunch, and dinner and then him pushing the tray back out to her after he had eaten. That was probably the longest week of Spencer’s life. Every day that passed by felt like months, and with no windows or clocks, the only way of keeping time was by counting how many seconds had passed between meals. On the longest day, he had counted eleven thousand nine hundred and twenty-five seconds. For each second that he counted, he made a dot on the wall behind him with a marker that Ophelia had given him, and by the end of the week, his wall had turned a whole shade darker.

During the last week, the third one, Ophelia did the complete opposite. She kept Spencer by her side every second of the day, providing him with the desperately needed attention that he craved. She would order him around, playing into his desire for purpose and fulfillment. Each morning, Ophelia would make him write reports for her. She started it as a way to gauge just how much Spencer would be willing to share with her. Unsurprisingly, the emotionally and mentally unstable Dr. Reid had lost the ability to filter his thoughts. The world-class genius labored away for hours, spilling every secret the FBI had shared with him. He told Ophelia all about her mother, he told her about Hotch’s family, he told her about his lowest moments: losing Maeve and letting Cat slip through his hands. In the afternoons, she would send the mentally exhausted man to do meaningless housework. He scrubbed the floors on his hands and knees until his shoulders grew sore, he replaced lightbulbs until his wrists could no longer twist, and he washed dishes until his hands turned pink and pruned. Reid thought nothing of the work and even appreciated the opportunity to rest his aching mind. Their nights, however, were spent together, truly together. Not the kind of together where Ophelia sat on the couch watching Spencer work, but the type where they were no more than a foot apart at any given time. He relished the praise that Ophelia showered him with. She made him feel an unparalleled sense of pride for sharing his secrets. By the end of the week, Spencer had proven himself to be so trustworthy (or brainwashed) that Ophelia felt comfortable falling asleep next to him on the couch.

Somehow, an institution dedicated to delving deep into the minds of America’s most notorious killers had made a fatal mistake. They failed to look into the minds of their own men, letting the team’s brains and hearts fall through the cracks. The BAU’s useless mandatory therapy proved to be nothing but a bandaid over a gaping wound. Because despite all of his intense FBI training, Spencer had already suffered so much trauma that he became the BAU’s weakest link.

Three Days Until New Year’s

A pair of heavy boots crunched loudly against the rocky, sandy walkway, contrasting the eerie silence that preceded it. The boots were attached to a mysteriously hooded figure that walked with confident strides. It was late at night, or maybe early in the morning– no one could say for sure. Only one thing was certain: chaos would soon have the upper hand.

The black boots continued until they reached Ophelia’s window. Peering in, the hooded figure saw Ophelia lazily draped over the couch, accompanied by a dreaming Dr. Reid beside her. An old television set illuminated their motionless figures and let out quiet dialogue as the movie dragged on. Both were in a deep, deep state of sleep, unaware of the scene that was unraveling beyond their dreamscape. The Unsub abandoned the window, tiptoeing towards the garage. The garage door panel, despite being chosen by a “genius”, took only a minute to hijack. The latch clicked open and the door slowly lifted. It buzzed quietly but steadily, and the hooded head turned towards the window every few seconds to check for any signs of Ophelia or Spencer waking up. They never did. With the garage door open, it would be smooth sailing from now on.

The Unsub quickly slid their backpack onto the empty garage’s floor, opening it slowly. The contents of the bag were highly volatile and the Unsub did not want to be anywhere near when that volatile substance lost its stability. Halfway through unzipping, the zipper got stuck, causing the backpack to jolt violently. The Unsub’s breath hitched and their mouth dried up as beads of sweat trailed down their neck and forehead.

Beginning again, slower this time, they moved the zipper smoothly. Once the bag was successfully opened, the Unsub calmed by a degree. They grabbed the flat, red blocks that lay within, careful to avoid tangling the wires attached to the blocks. These carefully packed and handled blocks were those infamous “plastic explosives” that they always showed in movies. They were highly destructive, yet much too easy to buy– considering you had the right contacts, of course. The Unsub stuck the explosives all along Ophelia’s garage walls, making sure to target the home’s main structure by using a wall scanner. They exited the garage and closed it manually to avoid the whir of the garage door motor. With still a handful of explosives left in their possession, the Unsub moved to the side of the house farthest from Ophelia and Spencer, easily boosting the damage without committing full-on murder.

From afar, the Unsub exiting Ophelia’s backyard just looked like an ordinary citizen going for a calming moonlight stroll. But their fast, decisive steps were far from calm and this citizen was in no way ordinary. They walked rapidly for two long minutes and by the time those two minutes had passed, Unsub was far out of the neighborhood’s sight. The Unsub grabbed the remote detonator from their pocket, entering the passcode and pressing the bright red button. A blast shook the ground with fierce intensity and a shiver ran up the Unsub’s spine as they felt the air’s temperature increase by the slightest degree. They turned around to marvel at the brightly lit sky above Ophelia’s house, basking in the sound of chaos engulfing the few residents of Park Ridge Drive.

Inside the rapidly heating home, Ophelia and Spencer felt adrenaline flowing freely through their bloodstreams. Panic permeated their bodies and all rational thought had been abandoned. But even as they felt the fire nearing and the smoke filling their lungs, they didn’t move. They couldn’t move. Just like two mice trapped in a never-ending maze, there was no way out and the Unsub had made sure of it. They sat in desperation, wondering if the past three weeks had all been for nothing.

About ten minutes from the house, the Unsub approached their car, opening the door as a gust of wind flew by. Their hood fell down, revealing short blonde locks and a familiar face. They perched the hood back onto their head. They could hear the sirens approaching and drove away quickly, even passing a police car a few miles later. But alas, the Unsub was already far, far gone by the time first-responders arrived at the scene.

Author’s Note: I decided to leave this chapter a bit vague at the end so I could pick it up again if I ever feel better, but still have just enough closure to let the story "stop"... I'd love to hear any theories or guesses as to what the ending means (it's kinda obvious lol). I'm also so sorry it's not better, but this was the best I could do considering the circumstances.

[ragnaofazure]

Reasons Why.

(BGM)

It was time to pay a visit to someone he really wished to see. The man had not felt the excitement to have a rendezvous with another person in quite a while, he was outright... Eager. After all, he rarely met with anyone directly anymore. A smile stretched across his face, it was refreshing, he was picturing the whole event...

Ah. To be able to experience this set of emotions put some spring to his step. Given his status in the world, anyone found to have connections with him was as good as getting marked, due to that, he gave up hope to form any sort of lasting connections unless it was possible for the other party to remain safe and unseen with anyone else. It was a true price to pay for everything he has done, an unrestorable status in society, unsurprisingly.

Alas, that was but the price to pay for his path, and he knew it well from the beginning. He continued increasing his pace over the outskirts of the city, getting ever so closer to the big mansion, where he was meant to go to his meeting.

About ten minutes later on top of the half an hour of on foot travel, it finally came into view... And that is when he started to run... And then broke into full sprint, faster than any human should go, aiming for that front gate. That grin on his face becoming wider.

(BGM)

Right over the walls, they were already rushing to give him the warm welcome he was expecting, a hail of bullets that were missing the target by an extremely long shot due to the speed he was moving at. It was literal seconds before he shoulder tackled the robust gate and busted it right open with little effort. As it went flying off the thick hinges, all the way to the big fountain not too long a distance from it right behind, smashing it apart considerably. And before the two thugs that went to welcome him ahead of time could do anything, aside from the couple waiting at the main entrance...

They did not see him leap at their higher elevation on the steps on each opposite sides of the gate. One got skewered by huge weapon before pulling out, the other earned a huge diagonal gash from shoulder to hip, both deep and serious injuries that caused immediate collapses.

After watching them fall to the floor in fatal agony with almost simultaneous thuds, should immediate help not be brought to at least one of them, the other two were witnesses and nothing more to the effortless short and brutal work they made of their fellow cohorts. Shaking hands pointed firearms at him, he was unimpressed as he shook the initial scarlet fluid staining the blade, as soon as he was within arm's reach of the two, he had a simple question as he sighed.

 "Where is he? You all knew I was coming." He looked smug, as if he had just done nothing wrong whatsoever, “And don't even think about lying, no matter if I respect the loyalty that you could have to the piece of garbage, make it easier on yourselves." Giving a chance, it then came.

'He ran away hours ago!' 'The best, most honking office all the way back!'

‘What are you doing?! Traitor!!' 'Screw him! We're all dying anyway!'

"Only one."

Ragna interrupted, kicking the liar down and through the double door with inhuman force before stomping on his chest, cracking noises echoing before impaling his weapon right between his ribcage, finding the heart after small, painful torture. Turning back to face the one that helped and flashed an honest smile again in a full easy mood change.

"Run now. I'm not chasing, better not see your face ever again if you don't turn a new leaf." Allowing escape, he then turned to the mansion standing before him. Echoes and fear of the spared life fading to the distance...

"The Grim Reaper is here! I suggest only the most loyal to the prick step up! The rest? One chance to start escaping!" Making his callout, he waited at the fancy foyer, right in the center after waltzing in.

"..." And sure enough, some devotees sprang up, jumping over the railing of a second story, armed with japanese swords, pipes, chains, more fierarms... The whole classic variety of criminals. "I hope that's not all of you at once..." And right as he was speaking? One of them took the first swing as he was turning around, addressing them, managing a clean cut from the back of his ear down to the carotid artery, causing his blood to begin flowing and making him grin.

...Yet Ragna still stood. And seconds after?

His wounds began closing like nothing. Collective fear took place before he cracked his neck. "...I should have expected one of you assholes was going to try the cheap shot." He slammed the tip of the huge blade on the floor, metal loudly echoing against carpeted tile.

"Come at me then! All of you in whatever manner you want! You're all that brave and loyal?! Willing to die for nothing?! Huh?! Show it to me!" Calling them out, he waited for the next swing, which was a sickle, aimed straight at his chest, which was immediately deflected, he then took it in hand... And crushed it in half. After letting that sink in, "My turn..." He whispered at the shocked thug, raising a fist then smashing it against their face, the rattling sound as he sent the poor bastard packing resounded as he slammed against the wall with decent impact.

Stretching his hand and wrist, he turned to the baffled rest once more, "Next. All at once. Again, if you don't value your life, keep tossing it. You had your chance to be spared." Throwing out the confident taunt and warning, he then waited for the swarm to congregate around him... Which came out swinging. A hail of bullets, many sharp and blunt weapons swung at him, he obviously could not block all of them, yet... No matter the cut or where, it closed almost instantly, even one landed in his eye. And while that was annoying? It was restoring.

A pipe smashed his head? Cracking the skull? Shook it off, everything within rearranging. It was a small massacre of about twenty men or more surrounding him as they were dropping dead, or being blown away... A loud, violent ranbat of one man being surrounded to the very end.

(BGM)

Soon enough, it all was calm as he momentarily caught his breath, lifeless or gravely injured men sprawled at his feet, few more decided to try and attack, so he could only assume everyone in the back came forth. Those were all of them. A bloodbath. There was no other way to call that.

"I ultimately respect your devotion... But it could have been much better placed." He slowly returned his sword to it’s resting place behind him. After a couple of minutes with his head lowered... It was time to find who he came to see. A tour of what was now a ghost house.

Making it through many a kind of hallways, rooms, all the regal household until he was kicking one last door that stood out. Velvet red, gold around the frame, egotistical initial... This was it. And sure enough, there he was. Sitting like it was nothing.

(BGM)

“You didn't run? Facing this like a man?" Immediately, he asked as he slowly waltzed in. The man he was after was the head of a real bad mafia, adhered to no standards. No exception to colaterals, no real grace periods... No mercy even to children, the little ones were outright trafficked or used as bargaining chips. All of this? It was a recipe to absolutely piss off the big bad considered as Ragna, and it was why he was excited all along. To kill him as deserved in his book.

‘You would have tracked me down easily, no matter how far I ran.'

"Heh, I see any big wig has the head right on he shoulders enough." Fake compliment, but still, outrun him? Very few get away. But he was grinning, this bastard was... grinning? To what he narrowed his eyes in immediate reaction, there was literally no reason to be happy about this.

"...What's funny? Proud of the little dirty legacy you're leaving behind? A goddamn pile of unnecessary corpses, and that's due to innocents and those who were never involved, you lack any standards unlike most other leaders, a bad kind of iron fist."

Fist balled in anger as he retold everything, a quiet, clear anger that could burn so much...

'And where do you get off talking to me about morals? Grim Reaper? Your body count is above the goddamn four digits... And that's an estimate.'

‘You figured: “Oh, I'm no longer bad but I don't want to get jailed! I'll just pluck every other bad that will only keep appearing in this world!” ...Give the act a break. Even you know you would make a much better life committing to the underworld all over again.'

"..." No words, which caused the fellow criminal to laugh, it was true... But there were reasons why he didn't. He reaffirmed his gaze, a piercing glare, unbreakable... "There's a difference." He responded, "I know how this whole world works... And you are true evil."

"Your kind normally has standards. They know who is supposed to get what they deserve under any circumstance, you? You don't care. You are greedy, you tossed all your men at me as if they were disposeable, most likely forced because they don't know better." Scoffing, he continued on.

"The only reason you grew was due you having no limits, no matter what, and that... That's exactly why I hate." And what circled back to his reasons. "Evil is unremoveable, after all... I am here. But you? That goes beyond it."

The comment caused the fat cat in suit to grimace, 'That still doesn't make you or anything around you better, you are still the most hated man in the world, the chain of command that comes clean up takes your credit. They outright know your MO.'

“And?" He immedaitely interrupted, “To what he was surprised, "I don't care." Then confused, "I don't give a shit how many times your particular kind reappears either... I'll root you out, our grime and stain will always exist, but you? You have no place in this world..."

“You are not remotely human. And that is what makes us different... You threw that away and became a real monster, and you know what? I GODDAMN exactly knows what it is like!!" It was then he was tightly gripping him by that white, fancy suit, rage coursing his body...

"Evil is necessary, but not you, and if I can cull it to make the right one remain? That's all I need. I don't need thanks, glory, forgiveness... None of that. I only want to do what's right." 

 'You are out of your mind...' Shaking his head, laughed in disbelief, unable to comprehend how could someone just do and accept that... Such selfless, thankless life while treated like scum of the world beyond even his kind...

"...And you lost yours. Just like any heart." It was the moment weapon was raised, pressed against his chest... "...Yet you still can bleed. But not enough to make up for it all." Those being his words, the fear became apparent in his face at long last.

A solid, swift impalement, right in the chest, squeals filling the air. And this time? He could not resist the desire to twist the blade for good measure this time too. Until he stopped moving for good, he never pulled the weapon out...

After the deed was done, he sprawled the corpse on his fancy wood desk, perfect to be discovered by said authorities that would be sure to arrive within hours. Taking deep breaths, he would begin relaxing as the last spill of fresh blood dripped off the weapon.

(BGM)

Looking out the big window to his side, the day was beautiful outside in contrast to the fatality fest that was this whole development. And this was far from the first time as implied.

"...I can't ever go back, but this is all the good I can do. I am the big evil. And I erase what I think should not exist." Repeating that, he finally returned his blade to the resting position behind him. As he looked at the vast sky, opening the window,  gentle breeze blowing from the ocean nearby despite his still messy state from the massacre...

"The monster who kills monsters, one said that one time... I don't care what they call me. I don't care if it's thankless." Determined voice spoke out loud to no one but himself.

"If you want to do what you believe is right, stick to it, don't expect happiness, gratitude, nothing... It is why I will continue calming the raging waves of the vast ocean known as evil... For I am the pushing force from it to begin with."

"Until then... That is also what I can do to counterweight not only what I've done, but what I am." The hint of sadness was heavy, but one of acceptance, he was not truly lost... But determined. Unbroken. The evil itself to keep it's balance.

That was who he was. That is why he chose to destroy other evils he deemed too much worse than himself in terms of morals and threats to life.

All evil began and ended with him, he was the one to judge the evil...

Until his last day.

[aion-rsa]

Mortal Kombat: Why the Movie Created New Main Character Cole Young

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To become a leading martial arts movie star, you must fight your way to the top. And Mortal Kombat star Lewis Tan has paid his dues. He’s a second-generation Hollywood martial artist, with his father Philip Tan being a British Taekwondo champion who’s been acting and working in stunts since the 1980s, eventually rising to be a distinguished action director in his own right. It gave Lewis an early start.

He was only three when he appeared in his first film, China Cry: A True Story. He grew up in the business. His father set him on the martial path too, teaching him how to fight at an early age. Outside of acting, Tan competed as an amateur fighter in Muay Thai and trained in Kung Fu, Jiu-Jitsu, and Japanese sword. Due to his lifelong dedication to the martial arts, he insists on doing his own fights and stunts, just like Jackie Chan did when he was younger. 

Tan’s fighting skills also caught the attention of the martial arts fandom in Netflix’s Iron Fist. The Netflix series was berated for its lackluster fight choreography, especially because the titular character was supposed to be a martial arts expert. However, Tan’s guest appearance was exceptional. Tan portrayed Zhou Cheng, a drunken Kung Fu master, and his fight scene was the only one in the entire series worth watching. Tan followed that with another appearance in a Marvel project with Deadpool 2 where he played the short-lived character of Shatterstar. 

Tan soon really started to show his stuff in two martial arts driven TV shows though. Into the Badlands brought top-notch fight choreography with a Hong Kong approach with veteran martial talent, including Daniel Wu, Stephen Fung, Huen Chiu Ku (a.k.a. Master Dee Dee) and Andy Cheng. In Netflix’s Wu Assassins, Tan landed the lead role of Lu Xin Lee. That series’ cast was also stacked with martial arts actors, including Iko Uwais, Celia Au, Mark Dacascos, Juju Chan Szeto, Katheryn Winnick, and more. A feature length film follow up titled Fistful of Vengeance is premiering later this year. 

In Mortal Kombat, Tan takes on the role of Cole Young, a new addition to the massive fighting game franchise.

“We felt it was okay to have a new character in a game that brings out new characters all the time,” explains director Simon McQuoid. The character serves as a device to introduce the world to a new audience. According to McQuoid, Young’s role is “so anyone who’s not a Mortal Kombat scholar or doesn’t have a PhD in Mortal Kombat like a lot of people do, they’ll be able to enjoy it as well.” 

This puts a lot of burden on Tan. Not only must Tan carry the central role dramatically, but he must also deliver on the fight scenes. After all, Mortal Kombat is first and foremost a fighting game. It’s one of the greatest fighting game franchises of all time, in fact. McQuoid insisted that the fights be as authentic as possible. “From the get-go, I said to Kyle [Gardiner], the stunt coordinator, and Chan [Griffin], the fight choreographer, I want these to feel real and I want to be just there with them. Don’t get too foxy or fruity, or crazy, and I don’t want loads of slow-mo. We’ve got to use slow-mo really carefully. Let’s just see it happen.”

Den of Geek caught up to Tan to chat about his role as our eyes and ears into the world of Mortal Kombat. 

Den of Geek: This is a dream role for you, isn’t it? 

Lewis Tan: Yeah, it’s a dream role for so many different reasons and on so many different levels. For me, personally as an actor, it’s a dream role because I’ve been working for 20 years to get to a place where I can showcase my skills as an actor and as a martial artist at the same time with a project that I like, and with a story that I like, and with a character that has a clear arc, and that it is of value. To have this as my first big leading role introduction is truly incredible.

And then there’s a level of pride as a martial artist that I get to showcase and perform all my fights on a huge scale with a big budget and a big studio behind it. That hasn’t been done in many years. I can’t even think of the last time that that’s been done. Then obviously as an Asian actor, to get to lead a film like this and to see not just myself, but many Asian faces and many diverse castmates being looked at as heroes, that makes me very proud. I think that it’s helping push the boundaries and break stereotypes, and it’s very timely considering what’s happening.

We saw that Mortal Kombat billboard on the side of a building that you posted on your social media. How does that make you feel to see your face as tall as a skyscraper? 

It felt good to see. But at the same time that I was scrolling through that, and I was looking at that poster, I was then also looking at the news about people targeting Asians and the violence towards the Asian community. The contrast of that was very emotional for me. It was a very emotional experience to look at that and to feel the energy of the time and how I can be a part of that. I don’t want to say destiny or anything like that, but it’s just like, it lined perfectly with something that I care so much about. And I don’t know what that is, whether it’s fate or destiny or whatever, but it’s important and I’m happy to be here and I’m grateful for it.

You played the game, right? Who did you play? 

I played the game when I was a kid, played the game with my brothers, played the game with all my friends. I was playing the game since I was 12. I’ve played with every different character, but I played a lot with Kung Lao, a lot with Smoke. I played a lot with the robots, Cyrax. I played a lot with Raiden, Kitana. I played with everybody really, but my favorite character would be Kung Lao and Smoke, besides the obvious two favorites that everybody plays with. I was one of those kids that was like, “I’ll find a different character. Everyone keeps playing with Scorpion.” So, yeah, man. I loved the video game. It’s part of my childhood. Now it’s part of my career.

Cole Young is the only character that wasn’t predefined. How was it for you to find that character?

It was not hard to find the character. It was hard to make the character worthy of being in this world, and make the character stand out because all these other characters have such clear and in-depth backstories, and they already have a big fanbase. So I’m kind of going in against the grain here, fighting against the waves. But that’s nothing new for me. I enjoy this type of challenge.

So I was respectful of how fans were going to feel about having a new character in the movie, but at the same time, there’s been a lot of new characters in Mortal Kombat since the game first came out. Now we’re at like 80 different characters, and I felt like if I earned my spot, then I would be very proud of that. So hopefully I did it enough justice to earn Cole’s place in the Mortal Kombat world.

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How was it to work with all those special effects?

It was great, man. There were not too many visual effects. There was some stuff with Goro obviously, and there was some stuff with different sets, but for a movie of this caliber and where it is, and how it takes place and the fantasy world behind it, there was very little green screen, very little VFX. A lot of it was done practically. A lot of the light effects, a lot of the different special moves that happen. A lot of the lights and everything is all happening on set done by our genius photographer, Germain McMicking, and obviously our director Simon McQuoid. So yeah, it was cool to see.

I liked the idea of doing things a little different than what these big action blockbusters have been doing. They set out to make it more authentic, more grounded, more violent, more realistic, and I think they did a really, really good job. Then the VFX that we do have are really incredible, and those could make or break a project.

I am always nervous about that because I don’t know what it’s going to look like. You know what I mean? So to see it finally on the big screen—when I saw Goro jump up, I was like, “Oh my Lord.” I was so happy. He looks ferocious and our VFX team has done such an incredible job. So yeah, I’m really happy with the work that they did. I’m working with super talented people and that made me confident to take the role.

You’ve had the luxury or privilege to work with several great teams of martial artists before. And here in this film, you’ve really leveled up. Can you speak to that a little bit?

Man, I’ve been so fortunate to get to work with crazy legends from Andy Cheng and Master Dee Dee, and Daniel Wu on Into the Badlands, to Iko Uwais from The Raid. When I was growing up, I was training with guys like Chad Stahelski, who is [now] directing John Wick, and my father who’s a national champion, and many, many, many different people, even champion UFC fighters. All sorts of different people, I’ve trained with in my lifetime. I’ve been so fortunate. To then get to work on this set with someone like Joe Taslim or Hiroyuki Sanada, who are not only incredible artists and actors, but incredible martial artists as well. 

I feel like a lot of people, they get this thing mixed up where it’s like, “Oh, well, he’s a martial artist. He’s not a real actor.” No, no, he’s a real actor. And he can kick your ass. It’s both. And if anything, it’s like even more of a testament to how talented these guys are because they’re performing with every part of their being. 

When you watch Joe Taslim play Sub-Zero, you see his performance. If you put it on mute, you will see his emotion in the character, and that’s the goal. That’s what martial arts is. It’s an expression. It’s a truthfulness. So it was an honor to work with them, and my trainer Nino Pilla, who is a student of Dan Inosanto, who was a student of the great Bruce Lee, and all of these legends have taught me and have a piece of that performance. Some of that performance is dedicated to them.

Mortal Kombat premieres in theaters and on HBO Max on April 23, 2021.

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