#this traveling portion of the job has been hard but not terrible

[dalekofchaos]

Things I would change about the Mafia Trilogy

The Mafia trilogy is one of my all time favorite game series of all time, but if I could change anything about the game, this is what I would change

Mafia Definitive Edition

I would basically add in the ability to extort shops and take over and build on rackets like in The Godfather games.

Fast Travel by train/tram cars like in the original game

Keep in the Knuckles Duster

Keep in Yellow Pete

The ability to go on dates with Sarah, show a sex scene and show Tommy and Sarah's marriage and actually give names and show Tommy with his kids. I just feel like not enough was shown.

Show more of the Salieri-Morello war. I feel like not enough was shown. Sure we killed Sergio and Ghillotti and eventually Morello himself. But we never got to see the full scale war. It felt small. So my proposal see the Morello family hitting the bar and eventually Tommy, Paulie and Sam hit them back. The mission would end with Tommy, Sam and Paulie wacking Lou and Dino and torching Morello’s bar to the ground. I think this is something that should have happened cause we never got to see Lou and Dino again after the second mission and I think it would be Tommy properly paying them back for trying to kill him.

Show us Tommy Angelo's testimony against the Salieri Crime Family. Make it like the Goodfellas trial scene

Mafia 2

There is an entire cache of cut content that shows us a better game we almost got, but I'll just share a select few.

Respect & Reputation. In the beta version of the game players would experience Empire Bay differently based on the level of respect Vito gained from completing missions.

Monique. Vito's cut girlfriend that Vito could take out on dates

Fast travel via Taxi before you get made and via Limo after you get made

Gun License

Fight Club and Hound/Horse races

Side missions doing jobs for Derek, Harry and Mike

Keep in the cut content suggesting that Henry would be revealed being set up and not a rat. My two pieces of evidence. Evidence 1. Evidence 2. Also it was originally intended to have Henry be framed.

Mafia 3

Keep in the cut prologue

Replace Cassandra with Laveau or Lincoln rules the Black Mob. I feel like Cassandra had promise, but her execution was terrible and she just ended up becoming unlikable. Cassandra is hypocritical, self-righteous and endangers the people she claims to protect. She gives all this talk about protecting black people, but she endangers them the most and pretty much made New Bordeaux a ghost town in her ending. As for why Laveau? Laveau is a man of principals and honor. Black revolutionary and Black Panthers vibe. Plus the fact that Lee Everett himself voices him makes me like him all the more. I'm not sure how Laveau's ending would go, most likely New Bordeaux would've been turned into a safe haven for black people, something like that. I also like to think he could voice his own ending and say "Remember, when New Bordeaux speaks, you better listen." I feel like if Laveau was one of the underbosses, then I actually would feel conflict about choosing who to run New Bordeaux instead of just always choosing Vito. Or the simple solution is for Lincoln to recruit the survivors of the Black Mob and rule the Hollow by himself and further cements his rule by rebuilding Sammy's.

Make Agent Maguire apart of the story. My pitch is that he is on the hunt and would be leading the feds against Marcano and Lincoln respectfully. At some point, I don't know what mission, but Maguire has Lincoln right where he wants him, but chooses to let him go and his reasons were that Lincoln was the only one who did a damn thing against Marcano and thought letting him go was best for New Bordeaux as a young and foolish agent. In the documentary portion of the game, he later reveals he was wrong. It was so weird that this random FBI Agent had such a hard on for Lincoln when they never even crossed paths, so Maguire feeling guilt about letting Lincoln go would work imo

Give Lincoln a crew. Simply put advancing with Vito, Burke and Laveau or the Black Mob would give Lincoln individual crew members from The Movement/Black Mob, Italian and Irish Mobs. You can send them to accomplish the list of shit you need to do, fight with you and even send them to collect the collectibles in the district.

The ability to divide up the Bayou to give to your Underbosses. A way we could add in more earn for the Underbosses is to add in rackets in the Bayou. Enough for all 3 Underbosses

Use Signs Of The Times, Faster Baby and No Stone Unturned locations as territory to give your Underbosses. You'd be giving Sinclair Parish, the Sanitarium and the Island to your Underbosses. By doing this and the Bayou, you should have enough to give your Underbosses enough earn to unlock their perks if you are looking to keep everyone loyal and unlock everything

Cancelled Vito DLC makes it in. Not sure what the specifics of this cut DLC were or could've been, but most likely we would've found out Joe is still alive, maybe find out that Eddie was the one who was killed instead of Joe and maybe Vito would see Frankie again. Maybe it could've ended with Vito getting Joe free from Leo and killing Frank Vinci since that was cut from Mafia II. And at the end, perhaps Joe could tell Vito that Lincoln is his son and thanks his old friend for looking out for him.

[hungrydolphin91]

X2 continues

Last we left off, my sister and I were about to get the final waymarker! ...Or so we thought, but Maxwell seems to be blocking the way...

On the GHS, Riddeaux tells Spirius HQ to 'get those Exodus scum on the line.' Sis: "And then Alvin's phone rings."

After learning about the hostage situation on the ship, Jude supposedly texts Gaius to bring him up to speed, assuming Gaius didn't accidentally delete the message. Me: "'Oops, hope that wasn't important.'"

I totally forgot that theres a timed part of the rescue mission, no idea what the consequence of failing is but we did get pretty close

In the end, my sister chose to hold onto fractured Milla as long as possible. Hoesntly, who wouldn't? It does give me hope about her accidentally getting the bad ending later, the same way I did >:)

Ch 10: Milla Maxwell The End Me: "It sure was."

My sister got me wondering, how the heck does Rollo stay so fat when he's always walking behind Ludger??? He's almost never shown being carried, and with all the world traveling they do he should be super trim

Leia has the one end of battle quote, "Strength is power! Wait those are the same thing." Which seems like a quirky Leia moment but became relevant later because...

I was arguing with my sister, who has insisted multiple times that she's gonna pay off the whole 20 million gald someday, to maybe give the bank more than 10,000 at a time so theyll stop nagging us for having over 200,000. Her: "But I need this money to upgrade our equipment! I just think it's wise to be prudent." Me: "Those are the same thing!"

The game gives you notifications when characters outside of the party learn skills, like Gaius for example. Me: "I hope the skill he learned is how to charge his phone."

Alvin will NOT stop telling Jude his terrible dad joke ("Job well done" "Eh, I prefer medium rare"). He needs new comedy material so badly.

Anyway this new joke somehow got combined with our old inside joke of every empty tunnel being an 'Alvin' for betraying our hopes and long story short I was asked to draw this nonsense:

We made it to the end of Gaius's second chapter (why did they put 2 hard boss fights in that one smh) where Gaius tells Tanner about the deaths of his 4 subordinates, who he only realized were actually his friends 10 minutes ago, then leaves, saying "This is the end of my story." Sis: "He's become self-aware, he knows his chapter is ending!!"

The last portion of debt has been paid, and Bisley wants to speak with us at Spirius. I'm reaaaaally hoping we get to Victor next time :)

master post here

[laomelettedufromage]

Oh boy guess who has to make decisions about their short term future soon😳

[infinitethree]

For Day and Dream Prime: how do you both feel about techno and badboyhalo???

Day blinks a few times. He’s sitting on a bench out by the lake next to the flower field in the area he lives in with his family. It doesn’t look like anyone else is out with him, at least not right now. “That’s…an interesting two to ask about,” he says slowly. “Bad is…was…one of my closest friends, in my first life. In the second…” He trails off, his wings fluttering slightly at his back.

“In this one, he took Schlatt’s place. I’m not sorry Theo killed him for what he did.” He doesn’t like to think about that day, not even a little. It marked when he couldn’t deny that history was repeating itself, when he gave in to the grand designs of fate and let Dee convince him that killing him was in any way worthwhile.

He paid for that choice in so many ways, later on. He regretted it as soon as he did it, but he wasn't able to undo it–not with how he had done it.

Swallowing and trying not to focus on one of the darkest days of his life, he shifts his attention to the other one. “Techno is…sort of hard to explain. He’s always been someone I could relate to on a level that not really even my best friends did. I don’t think I’d be here if not for him in at least a dozen ways. He was the only one I thought might be my ally when I made my deal for a second life. Then in this life, he became my son. Atlas isn’t Techno, true, but they have enough overlap that I tried to make sure he was happier, this time. Despite everything, I think he is.”

He’s quiet for a long moment before he continues, “And now Techno Prime is the therapist I share with Dream Prime. He sees mainly just the two of us, but to be fair…we both have so many issues. Dream Prime is a child, an idiot, and a bastard, though he seems to have realized that about himself. I’ll keep reminding him just in case it hasn’t sunk in yet.”

Then he gestures at himself. “Meanwhile, I have all that plus some…other stuff. Horrific torture, ripped out part of my soul, got a second life, watched history repeat itself with the sons I was parent-adopted by while I was too much of a coward to breathe a word about the knowledge that would have made everyone happier, fought a god, got conscripted into traveling the multiverse with my eldest son and also a doctor-alien, regularly come face to face with versions of myself that decided that putting Loyalty on a person is a justifiable thing to do, kill said versions of myself alongside aforementioned eldest son while our doctor-alien coworker tries to convince the Tommys of those worlds to come with us to undo the tethers. You know, that very normal trauma that everyone has.”

A shrug follows that list. “But sure, Dream Prime gets to have a cozy little cabin in the snow with eight cats and the world that still speaks to him. Meanwhile, I pull a few pranks and I’m the one who has to compromise.”

It’s purposeful that he doesn’t mention that ‘dozen’ should be there after ‘few’, or that he had started the trend of people fucking with Dream Prime as therapy. If he’s lucky, maybe he can get at least some benefit from this terrible new facet of his job.

===============

Dream Prime squints up at his ceiling, head tilting slightly to the side. He’s in his living room and being used as cat furniture again; none of the cats seem bothered when he starts talking. “...Weird combo, gotta admit. Bad is my friend, Techno is my friend and my–wait is the common factor that they’re both therapists? Because I’m just now realizing that a not insignificant portion of my friends are therapists. Bad, Techno and George all decided to start doing that even before we got an influx of people arriving. That’s a depressing train of thought that I’m not following any further for several reasons.”

He sighs, looking down right when Dre looks up. The cat immediately turns away as though he planned to do that all along. Dream’s tone turns contemplative as he asks himself, “...How many of my friends aren’t therapists, actually? And does Theo count as one of them or not? If so, how weird is that, since I’m sort of, kind of his dad? Or, his adopted one at least. He and his brothers joke about me being their Uncle because of it and I still don’t know how I feel about that. Uncle is better than the other one, though.”

His eyes narrow slightly. “As glad as I am that Day gets to be fucked with, I’d really rather it didn’t happen through causing me headaches. Saying that because the world both is literally a part of me and that they decided to adopt Day’s kids that it then means that Day and I are co-parenting a literal child version of ourselves still makes me tempted to revisit learning water breathing without a brewing–”

Lemongrass and pine are all he can smell for several long moments. He sighs. “No, I’m not being rude about Day’s kids, I’m being rude about Day. There is a difference.” His eyes roll at whatever response he gets, and he says flatly, “Him being sad sometimes doesn’t mean he’s not an asshole!”

The sound of wind whistling through trees and fire popping makes him scoff. “He is, though! He’s an asshole who can’t cope with his own life so he–”

Dream abruptly stops, surprise and then guilt coloring his expression. “...Oh.” He’s quiet for several long moments, one hand finding its way into the familiar fur of Za, who is somehow balanced on one of his shoulders and head. As per usual, it’s the most inconvenient place the cat could find to sit.

Tone gentling, he says, “...You know he doesn’t like it when you show me stuff like that, right? It makes him feel watched. It makes everyone feel watched. I try not to ask to see things for a reason. It’s not on purpose, but…” he trails off, insect wings and guilt brushing against his skin. His tone softens even further as he says, “Please try and remember that, okay? People come here for sanctuary. It can’t be that if they feel monitored.”

[midnightrooftops]

Batfamily: My Hero Academia AU

Done before? Probably. I’ve become obsessed with bnha (better late than never) so here’s my headcanons for a bafamily in the bnha verse. This was with the help of a friend.

Bruce Wayne | Batman Quirk: Shadow (not widely known) Bruce’s quirk is actually highly debated by the public. His name suggests he has a “bat” quirk and he leans into that as the playboy billionaire he is. But really, his quirk is a shadow quirk that allows him to hide and travel in shadows. 

He’s a unique hero in that even his personal identity is a mask. “Bruce Wayne” is a public face for Pro Heroes. Rated #2, he uses his wealth and prestige to do a lot of work outside hero work. Anyone that knows him knows that he isn’t the playboy he plays up for the press. People have a hard time remembering that his persona is a fearsome hero and many of his arrests go without proper credit. If he does make a public debut as “Batman”, it’s a campy, played up version that supports his personal identity. 

The way his false “Bruce Wayne/Batman” identity encourages heroing is a direct contradiction to the way he really is. He tries to minimize the message but after his parents were murdered by a villain, he attempted to the vigilante style. However, he found it wasn’t plausible with the way the world was evolving. He then turned to using his fame and wealth to make sure that any hero was better equipped. He has the leading company of support gear and will often gift gear to anyone in need of it, hero or not. 

Dick Grayson | Nightwing Quirk: Low impact Dick’s quirk makes him light on his feet, able to maneuver quickly over any terrain. It took years, but he’s been able to apply his quirk to any part of his body, not just his feet. The bounce his quirk gives him makes him hyper-reactive and able to spring into action faster than most anyone else.

Dick grew up in a circus, exploiting quirks for amazing physical feats but when his parents were killed, there wasn’t any place Dick could go. Taken in by the pro hero Batman, Dick learned from the best of the best at a young age and often accompanied his teacher on cases as young as twelve years old. This put him on the top of the charts when he got into hero school and he quickly rose to the “Top Three” of the school. By the time of graduation, he, Wally West and Donna Troy, had broken pro records. 

He has since made his own agency and brought on many sidekicks the media calls “titans”.

Barbara Gordon | Oracle Quirk: Information Gathering By look or touch, she can gather a huge amount of information about someone and their activities. She also has a perfect memory.

The daughter of the chief of police, Barbara sees the difference between “heroes” and police and hates it. She’s dedicated to bridging the gap between public law enforcement and the private job of “hero”. Somewhere along the way, she’s starting to understand the difference. She has a pro license but she stays out of the spotlight these days. She prefers to bring in the bad guy and doesn’t care who gets “credit” for it. 

Jason Todd | Red Hood Quirk: Phoenix (Unknown to almost everyone) Every time he’s burned, that portion of his body gets temporary stronger. Total regeneration results in partial mental instability.

Jason was thought to have a useless quirk - he was immune to fire. That didn’t stop him, however, from using it to the best of his abilities. Jason grabbed the attention of pro Hero Batman by stealing the tires off his car. As Dick had just graduated hero school, Bruce was looking for another young sidekick to mentor and teach. Jason was brash, hot-headed and, to put simply, not liked. The press tore the poor kid apart for his poor behavior, the hero community wouldn’t defend him and, while he DID get into the top hero high school, he was ostracized from the beginning because of his origins. 

Tragedy struck when, during an internship, Jason ran off to protect his mother and he was captured. A vote was submitted to the public, asking them to vote for his fate. While there was massive amounts of cheating and it was rigged from the start, it was still a terrible shock when the vote decided his death. Batman was not able to save the boy. 

However, the explosion made to kill him actually activated his quirk. While he burned, his body regenerated, stronger and he returned as the villain, Red Hood. Batman, after discovering his adopted son was still alive, kept his identity a secret and they have a public back-and-forth about heroes-verses-villains. Many don’t see Red Hood as a pure villain, but instead an anti-hero, taking out the worst of the worst. Have Batman or Nightwing teamed up before? Not publicly, but that’s neither here nor there.

Tim Drake | Robin/Red Robin Quirk: Memory Replay Touch activates memory of an object or person. The duration or clarity is dependent for how long that person/thing was touched and how connected it was to the events around it.

Tim never set out to be a hero. With the neglect of his parents, he had a lot of downtime and he saw the downward spiral of Batman/Bruce Wayne before anyone else did. Yes, a death of a sidekick was bad but Tim was predicting this years beforehand, seeing beyond Bruce’s public persona. His natural knack for information gathering had him saving the pro hero from doing something horrific. In exchange for his heroic deed, Bruce offered to train him. Always eager to learn more, Tim accepted and was eventually accepted into a hero academy.

This new path on the road to becoming a hero would eventually lead to the death of his parents and being adopted by Bruce. But for the time being, he’s trying to find his place in the “hero” world as a relative outsider. 

Cassandra Cain | Black Bat Quirk: ???

The daughter of villains, breed to be the best assassin in the world, Cassandra was raised in isolation, taught by killers and knew little of the world until coming to Gotham. After her first kill, she fled her teachers and sought something better.

She was one of the most important people involved in the earthquake of Gotham, saving two-thirds of the survivors by herself. The press never knew she existed so she went unrecognized. Bruce adopted her secretly and keeps her hero activity away from the press. He worked with the police to clear her past crimes. Now, she’s focused on understanding the world around her and making the best of her quirk. 

Stephanie Brown | Spoiler Quirk: Deconstruction Anything she touches can be deconstructed, depending on the size of the objects and how long she holds it.

Nothing disgusts Stephanie more than villains. Her father has been in and out of prison her entire life and the news knows him by name. She hates it. It’s made her life a living hell. She hates it more that she shares his same quirk. 

She knew she would never be a hero. Despite her submissions, no hero school would take her and she was forced to a regular public high school with the same bullies as before. But she’s made it a habit to spoil her father’s plans. After being let down by heroes in her past, she takes it upon herself to make sure none of her father’s plans work. Call her a vigilante. This, of course, spiraled to ruining his villain-friend’s plans and, well, being in the wrong place at the wrong time may be habit for her now.

She met Tim and Cass while doing her very illegal night activities and, despite their warnings, they haven’t turned her in yet. She’s learned how to be a better “hero” from them and they, in turn, seem to appreciate her tips about the underground. 

Damian Wayne | Robin II Quirk: Regeneration He can regenerate from wounds. Total amputation may take time to regenerate but will grow back slightly stronger. 

Unknown to the press, Damian is the son of Bruce Wayne and the villain Talia al Ghul. While his parent’s relationship is complicated, he has been nothing but tenacious when it comes to fighting evil, even at the age of twelve. Much of the public regards Damian as the next “Jason Todd” but Damian is adamant about proving himself. Even with his “older brother” at hero school, Damian isn’t interested in waiting for regulations to let him do what he was trained from birth to do. He’s been known to cause problems for local police and heroes alike more than once. 

[sakuratragedy]

Emperor’s Consort | Chapter 1

Fandom: Genshin Impact Pairing: Zhongli / Childe, #Zhongchi Tags: R18, A/B/O Dynamics, Royalty AU Summary: aka "Emperor's consort doesn't know the difference between being a concubine and being a consort" Tsaritsa wants her child to have a good life after serving her on the battlefield for so long, so she makes a deal with an old friend. In exchange for her military might, he will marry her son. Childe who has no formal omega training has to do his best to cover up the fact he has no idea what he's doing. Do your best to be a good omega Childe!

“If we are the last two left, I’ll give up and let you be the Tsar.”

“‘That is only if we are the last two standing. We need to think of who to take down first.”

She had her back against the wall, listening to her brothers through the slightly open door as they sharpened their weapons while whispering quietly amongst themselves. The sound of blade being polished against whetstone echoed through the room.

“Yelena’s strike is the fiercest. She should be dealt with first.” she hears her brothers when the blade lifts from the stone before another sharp sound is heard.

The succession rites to become the next Tsar hosted by her father started tomorrow. The Tsar was an old and terrible tyrant, taking eight wives and will be making his children slaughter each other for the sake of tradition. She hated him and his rancid smell, the same stench he used to command his court by exerting his alpha pheromones and bringing them to their knees. She especially hated when he would use her mother as a means to torment her. She would feel the spikes of rage and the flash of red in her vision when he would threaten to humiliate her mother in front of the court to get her to do what he wanted.

The succession rite was a chance to change all that. She could fix decades of ugly rituals, dismantle the corruption and burn it to the ground, raising a new court from its ashes. She'll get rid of the corruption with her own two hands.

If she survives the succession rite as the true heir.

First, she had to survive the night. She moved away from the wall, making sure her footsteps were light so her brothers would not hear her.

-

The dawn came quickly with few casualties. Two of her eight siblings were missing during the morning ceremony. It was right to assume her other siblings had started early by eliminating some competition before the rites. They were surrounded by spectators from the court, their mothers cry and sob as their children were cut down and their father, watching them with a smirk on his face.

She was fast, she had to be to survive the slaughter. While her brothers and sisters were stronger, she was swift to cut deep and fast at their necks before avoiding the rest of the fight.

As she held her dagger to her dear older brother’s neck, his words echoed through her ears.

“Yelena’s strike is the fiercest.”  

She hesitated for a split second when he smiled at her and closed his eyes, giving up the fight and giving in to his death.

“I’ll give up and let you be the Tsar.”

Perhaps he knew that she was there that night. She frowned. She swore for her brothers and for her mother that this ugly methods of succession would die along with them. She landed a swift killing strike to make his death painless before a booming laughter filled the court. Yelena got off her brother's corpse and turned to face her father behind her.

“Who would have thought.” she turned to her father, who had a smirk on his face, overlooking his five dead children and his sole heir bathed in the blood of her beloved.

“My littlest won the succession rites all on her own. It is as true as the court says,” her scowl deepens at his show of pride. “You do have my good traits.”

-

That night she killed the tyrant that was her father.

-

It had been 40 years since she was 15 and living the nightmares of her succession rites. The ghosts follow her as she burns away the old world for her new one. One where her children do not have to cry from the heartache of losing their families. For 40 years, she had destroyed her fathers empire and built it back up with her own hands the way that she desired. Everyone in Snezhnaya are her children, as long as they were born in this frosty land of ice and snow they would be cared for by her.

Her children always did say that she loved too much. She loved too hard and that made her soft.

She had never been married, but she had adopted 11 children from different family situations to be her official princes and princesses, her Harbingers as they liked to call themselves when they assisted her in her endeavours. The fights are long and tiresome but after 40 years of fighting for her ideal world she can finally rest peacefully with her family.

Unfortunately, she had spent the last 40 years hardening her 11 children for battlefields and life in shadows, so suddenly wanting to have a loving relationship with her children was less than fruitful. Especially with her older children, which was understandable since Pedrelino and Dottore had been with her longest and since they were young she hadn’t been treating them like children. They were forced to oversee missions from the shadows, travelling Teyvat for her and lengthy battles away from home, so she understands when they couldn’t receive her motherly love very well.

Her younger children however were very welcoming to her attempts at affection.

She sat on her throne, she watched her only daughter approach her along with two fatui skirmishers by her side.

“Your majesty.” La Signora did a low curtsy before her. She nodded and the two skirmishers dismissed themselves, leaving her and her daughter alone together.

“Signora. How was your trip to Mondstadt? I trust you had a wonderful time.”

“It was alright.” she glanced over to the side, making a face the Tsaritsa couldn’t really read, but she could guess that it was distaste. The reason for the distaste was unknown, but according to the intel that reached her ears before Signora did, it could have something to do with that mysterious traveller and that omega bard she had encountered in Mondstadt as she was leaving.

“I’m glad you’re home.” she started before hesitating, clearing her throat behind her fist before shyly admitting. “I’ve missed you.”

“I missed you too.” Signora responds shyly, her neck and ears flushing red clearly unused to the outright affection. The red flush made Signora look like a young maiden in the moment, you could have forgotten that she was one of the Tsaritsa’s coldest killers. The Tsaritsa smiled behind her hand at how cute her daughter could look before she decided to move on to other matters.

“Signora, an old friend of mine would like support from our military might regarding a ghost from his past.” she started with a serious voice as she leaned into her throne. Signora’s expression changed immediately to her usual stoic expression as she listened to her mother speak.

“Don’t support him.” she says sternly without hesitation. She understands why her daughter feels that way. A foreigner having control over their old and great military might unsupervised would be an unwise decision for both Snezhnaya and her old friend. While the Tsaritsa knows that her fatui agents have good independent action and work in a team, sending them to a foreign land two weeks away from Snezhnaya without supervision for a friend could turn dangerous.

“He is a dear friend and I owe him a favour.” she continues. “When Pedrelino was very young and I was rebuilding Snezhnaya, he lent me a hand in terms of investigation of the court. I feel the need to return the favour.”

Signora still looked against the action, but Yelena was determined to convince her daughter.

“We both know how I feel for those who have ghosts.”

“Your majesty, I’m stepping out of line when I say this but you love too hard and too deeply. It is my job to make sure you don’t get hurt and by making such a bold decision to send our agents for this person... It is just unreasonable, especially if they are unsupervised.” Signora has her hand on her hips as she borderline lectures the Tsaritsa.

“We could send a Harbinger if supervision is your concern?” Tsaritsa says as she avoids her gaze. She knows her daughter is glaring at her. She hears Signora give in by her sigh and her fingers rubbing at her temple.

“Who is your friend? Let me get Dottore to run a background- ”

“He is the emperor from Liyue.”

“Tartaglia spent a year in Liyue, didn’t he?” Signora said as she thought out loud. Perhaps they could send a portion of their military might if it is under the supervision of their youngest Harbinger.

Then again… it is Tartaglia they’re talking about.

“Yes. Tartaglia is familiar with foreign languages to a certain degree as well, is he not? Perhaps we could send him as a consort?”

“Mother.”

“Yes?”

“Did you say consort.”

“Yes.”

A long silence filled the throne room.

“Your majesty.” she let out another heavy sigh. “Harbingers are not marriageable. Especially Tartaglia.” Signora knows her mother is a kind hearted woman, but attempting to marry off Tartaglia as a favour to the Liyue emperor was mind boggling. Surely, Tartaglia was the only omega of their siblings, but he was still a Harbinger. A nasty, cold hearted killer with blood on his hands.

Not to mention his pheromones that smelled too strong of withered roses, a result from years on the battlefield fighting through his heats by literally fighting enemies, muddying his scent by surrounding himself with bloodshed. No high class alpha let alone an emperor would be in their right mind to want to mate with him.

“Do not say that Signora.” Signora’s posture straightened at the appearance of her stern voice, perhaps automatically out of fear or respect, or something between those lines. Regardless her daughter had reverted back to actively listening rather than roasting her brother.

“Tartaglia has worked hard for years for this country. Nevertheless, he is an omega forced to live like an alpha for years on the battlefield for me. Snezhnaya is entering an era of peace, I would like him to start living like his age.” Signora still looked against the suggestion of sending Tartaglia to be married. She understands that perhaps it would be troublesome for her as well, since they were close in age and she would essentially be losing her closest sibling.  

“I think this would be good for him.”

“Mother… Tartaglia has no formal omega training for a supposedly ‘high class omega’, considering he’s a prince. If the emperor takes a whiff of his scent, he’d be sent back in a crate to Snezhnaya like an animal.”

“There’s no harm in letting Tartaglia try his chances. If he turns out to be the emperor's concubine, it would not be too bad, would it?” she says softly. She watches as Signora’s expression softens as well at her tone.

“Alright. I’ll let Tartaglia know and make the preparations.”

“Thank you Signora.”

-

“Childe! Be reasonable!” Signora yells as she chases her half naked brother through the palace gardens, passing by agents and maids who were forced to avert their gaze in fear of being beheaded for looking at the prince half decent.

“Advert your eyes!” Signora points at the oncoming squadron who were heading in their direction. Their faces turn to all different directions to avoid seeing the prince and princess racing each other through the palace grounds.

“Childe!” she lets out a shrill scream as she continues to chase him.

“No! I’ll never marry! You can’t make me!” he jumps over mother’s marble fence and lands behind an unfortunate fatui agent, making him jump from the scare. It doesn’t phase Childe and he continues running. Signora looked down from where Childe jumped and looked at the heels she was wearing ‘ah… my 500 thousand mora heels...’ and decided against it.

“Don’t treat me like a fucking omega!” he sneers at her. She rolls her eyes. In her vision Childe is nothing more like a hissing kitten.

“News flash genius, you are an omega.” Signora managed to catch up to him and successfully cornered him in his room after a long chase outdoors that lasted approximately two hours and forty five minutes, not that she was counting to spite him later. Her angry pheromones leak and overpower Childe, bringing him to his knees. If he were in his prime state, he would be able to resist her pheromones without flinching, but this version of Childe had taken a short break from the battlefield and has started to enjoy living the life of a spoiled prince.

“I’ll make him kick me out in a week if you keep this up.” Childe gasps with his mouth before pinching his nose, trying not to breathe in too much of her scent.

Signora rolls her eyes at how dramatic her younger sibling is being. In a palace full of boys and her being the sole princess, she lives in a house of stubborn alphas. Somehow, Childe being the only non-alpha had caught their terrible personality traits.

“Get up off the floor we have to start going through basic training now.”

- “Ow!” Childe whines when Signora pushes the dildo into him. His ankle rested on one of her shoulders as she stood at the end of the bed, monitoring how much slick he produced.

“Come on, you’ve got to be better at producing slick than this .” she says with a mixture of disappointment and irritation. Firstly, she had to chase her brother through the gardens and now she was in charge of his training?

Well, she did promise the Tsaritsa that she would handle it. But it doesn’t mean she couldn’t complain about it.

“It’s not my fault. You don’t turn me on.” Childe mutters into his pillow below his head, crossing his arms across his torso. Signora smiles, irritated before pushing the dildo further in harder than she should have. He flinches violently before sitting up.

“Ow!”

“The Tsaritsa wants you to go to Liyue and play nice with the emperor, and you know that whatever mom says goes.” Signora ignores the high pitched whine that Childe makes when she gently pushes the dildo further into his cunt.

“Mom just wants to marry me off to some old geezer. Isn’t the emperor supposed to be a 40 year old man.”

“Don’t call her mom. Refer to her as ‘her majesty’.” “You literally just called her mom.”

Childe feels a knot form on the base of the dildo, expanding uncomfortably against him while hitting all the wrong places that made him uncomfortable. One particularly hard thrust caused him to flinch violently again, arching up against the bed in discomfort.

“Ow, ow, ow! ” He complains as Signora finishes pushing the knot into him.

“You’re such a crybaby. How are you going to withstand those dreadfully long hours of mating when you can’t even handle a fake knot.” she pushes his ankle off her shoulder and they fall limp onto the bed below them. She throws her hair behind her shoulder before moving across the room and sitting on the sofa in his room, lying herself across it as if she’s done some terribly hard task. Childe sits up to look at her, irritated at how dramatic she looks.

“Mom should have gotten you a proper trainer years ago rather than this ridiculous last minute coaching.”

“News flash genius .” Childe bites back at her. “I was away on the battlefield ever since her majesty adopted me as a Harbinger? How long has that been, hmm?” he taps his chin, ignoring the shiver that ran down his spine from feeling so much of the knot against him.

“One? Two? Three years?”

“So you’ve been away for six years. Big deal. All of us travel around for her majesty’s missions.”

“None of you alphas need whatever this ‘formal omega training’ is.” he makes air quotations with his fingers. “Cause none of you are omegas.” he glares at her. He knows she can feel the glare, but it's making him angry how easily she ignores him in favour of closing her eyes and sinking her head into the plush pillow on the sofa.

“Most high ranking omegas from across Teyvat go through formal omega training. It teaches you the basics from how to control your pheromones to the importance of heats and proper mating rituals.”

“I’m not most high ranking omegas, if you haven’t noticed.”

“You’re right.” Childe feels some sort of pride with being agreed with.

“You smell like smelly roses and you’re not soft or cute at all.” He made an unhappy noise at his sister. How typical of her, unable to compliment him at any time. He feels the knot soften inside of him and thinks that it was the perfect opportunity to work the dildo out of him before aiming for his sister's head. The dildo misses Signora by two inches before falling on the other side of the couch.

“Tartaglia!” the shrill scream echoed throughout the palace.

- The day he was sent away, the Tsaritsa and Signora stood out at the front gates to bid Childe goodbye. He kisses her majesty’s knuckles before meeting her eyes.

“I promise I’ll do well.”

The Tsaritsa smiles at him, gentle and motherly while a step further behind her Signora is glaring at him with all her might. The wind blows harshly, little flakes of snow sticking to Childe’s red hair. He smiles mimicking the gentle one she gave him.

“I know you will. Even if he does not choose you to be his mate, as long as you are happy,” she hesitates and bites her lip. She knows that she would be lying if she continued. “I will be happy.” she finishes.

In her heart she is hoping that it does not come down to that and that her old friend would treat her son right, but the possibilities are endless when it comes to Zhongli. If he was similar to her image of him when they were younger, he would still be an unpredictable enigma, coming and doing as he pleases like an outdoor cat. Then again, Tartaglia was a hurricane in a human shaped shell, with the ability to sweep everything in his path off their feet, dragging the air from their lungs with the chaos he’s capable of leaving in his wake.

“Even if you come home, I’ll take you with open arms.” she says softly, unsure if he heard her over the harsh blowing of the Snezhnaya wind. He turns back to look at his mother (and his sister who caught his eye, and looked away) and the palace he could be leaving for the rest of his life before he boards his carriage that would take him to the docks to board his ship to Liyue, this time with no predicted date of his return.

If he would even return. He was unsure.

The carriage left the front gates of the palace, but the Tsaritsa continued to watch until it was out of their sight.

“I wonder if it was a good idea to send Tartaglia.” she puts a gloved hand to her mouth and another on her stomach. “He has no formal omega training. I’m afraid if he were to lose out to any other potential omega the emperor had his eye on.”

‘I literally told you that.’ Signora thinks, but she gives her mother a sympathetic look and places a hand over her shoulder, pulling the Tsaritsa close to her body. Tsaritsa’s eyes widen in surprise as she feels herself being pulled closer to her daughter's body. Signora is taller than her and blankets herself over her mother, sharing their warmth. While she’s proud that her daughter isn’t as afraid of her as she was years ago, she’s still worried about Tartaglia.

“You worry too much, your majesty. He will be fine.” Signora says as she brings a gloved hand to the Tsaritsa’s back and strokes fondly, comforting her.

[longitud-de-onda]

nothing to loose

pairing; the mandalorian | din djarin x female reader (but i don’t think there’s any pronouns or explicit body references so it’s pretty gender neutral) summary; after a brutal shoot-out, you and mando are back on the razor crest, injured but all patched up, when he asks you to lie down with him as he rests.   rating; nc-17, but like a soft nc-17 warnings; soft smut, dry humping, blaster injuries word count; 2.5k requested; by anon “hello I hope my request finds u well but I was wondering if maybe u could do sum touch starved mando and the reader asks to see his face but he blind folds her and that’s how they feel each other thank u !!”

What exactly happened, you weren’t sure. All you knew was that one second all you could see was plumes of dust and the red streaks of blaster fire, and the next second the dust cleared and every one of the fifteen people in the bar was dead on the floor and Mando was struggling to get up, making some sort of pained noise. You had dropped down to his side, wrapping an arm around his chest to help him up.

Once he was standing, you had knelt back down to grab your blaster, which you let go of upon seeing your partner hurt on the ground. It was still hot from the fight, but Mando was clearly injured past the usual point, so you slipped it back into your belt, wincing as the hot metal singed your pants.

You had returned to Mando, holding his arm and helping him out of the establishment. He was silent. When he was hurt, he would normally complain and make some noises. Completely silent wasn’t anything good in your mind.

Now that you were back on the ship, you set him down on the floor, knowing there was no way he was going to make it up to his quarters like this. You spent the entire walk here rambling, hoping he wouldn’t pass out on you. Not only were you relying on the man to help you complete the job and get your share of the bounty, but you had started to care a lot for him. Your feelings were edging into a romantic territory, one you’d never admit to him. But if he died? That would break you.

“Mando, are you with me?” you had returned to where he was lying with the medpack.

“Yeah...” he said, his voice weak and floaty. “It’s my... side.”

You took a deep breath. Medical situations were never your strong suit. You could hardly stand the sight of blood.

“Okay, I’m going to take off your armor, alright?” you asked.

He nodded, and you reached around his chest to undo the straps and pull off the metal chest plate. With only his shirt covering his torso, you could now see what happened.

A blaster had hit him a centimeter beyond the edge of his armor, burning a small hole in his shirt. The skin below was bright red and burnt. It didn’t look terrible, but you couldn’t see how wide the wound was, and you knew blaster fire damage went deep under the skin.

“I need to take your shirt off,” you said, trying to keep calm.

There was no response. You said his name again a few times to no avail. Placing a hand on his chest, there was a steady breath, but that didn’t do much to calm your panicking mind.

Fuck it. He’d do the same thing for me. You struggled to remove the rest of his armor and you pulled the scissors out of the med pack to cut his shirt off.

You gasped as you peeled back the cloth, revealing an ugly wound. It was going to take a while to fix things up.

After 20 minutes of frantic first aid, you looked over your work. Mando’s skin was cleaned up and properly bandaged, and there was enough numbing cream that he probably wouldn’t feel the pain for another 12 hours. You were exhausted. Collapsing on the floor next to him, you began to feel the burn on your thigh from where you placed the hot blaster.

With Mando knocked out, and all the burn care supplies out and available, it only made sense to take care of it now. You slipped out of your boots and undid your belt. Your pants came off shortly after, leaving you in your black shirt and underwear. It wasn’t a bad wound or anything, just a long line, red and hot to the touch. And it stung. That had to be the worst part about burns; they were so much better when they were worse. The light ones weren’t bad enough to singe the nerves.

You winced at the ointment on your skin, but the cooling effect began shortly after. A few spritzes of bacta-spray and a large bacta-patch later, and you’d probably be fine.

“Thank you,” Mando’s voice startled you and you looked up. His mask was pointed in your direction, and you were very aware of your state of undress.

“Oh, you’re awake!” scrambling to his side as he attempted to push himself up to a seated position. “You took a pretty nasty blast there, but it’ll probably heal without any scarring. I hope.”

“I’m sure it’ll be fine,” he said, “You’ve done more than I would have.”

You looked up at him. How did he survive before you came along? That patch covering his chest was the bare minimum. It was your best attempt at shitty first aid.

“You need to rest,” you said, reaching over. “I’ll help you up to the cot.”

“No—we should go,” he said.

“We can stay here for the night. The ship’s pretty well hidden, it’s not like one night’s going to make that much of a difference,” you said, “If things get bad, I can fly us out.”

“You’re not touching my ship,” Mando said and you laughed. He had tried to sound aggressive but the pain in his voice muted anything he said.

You let your gaze linger on his chest, taking a moment to admire. He was larger than the armor let on, muscles bulky and softly defined. If you weren’t in so much pain, the visuals might have gone straight to your core.

“Come on, up to your cot,” you held your hand to help him get up.

Climbing the ladder up into the quarters was no easy task. Whenever Mando tried to use his left arm the bandage would pull at his skin and he’d freak out that he was going to further hurt himself. You settled for climbing the ladder first and helping by pulling him up. It wasn’t the best solution, but it did the job.

You got him situated in the cot, and after helping him out of the armor covering his legs and the remaining rags of his shirt, you stood in the room, still not wearing pants, but hesitating to leave.

“I, um, sorry about your shirt,” you said. “I didn’t want to ruin it, but I couldn’t take it off with the helm—”

“It’s fine. I have others,” he said, and you weren’t sure, but he could have been eyeing your naked legs. You had both seen each other in various states of undress, the past couple weeks of traveling together in a small, bare-bones ship not lending much privacy, but this felt different.

“You should sleep,” you said, needing to pry yourself from his gaze. You couldn’t see his face, his reactions. And that scared you. You turned to leave. “I’m going to go rest up in the cockpit.”

“Don’t go.”

“What?” you glanced over. Mando tilted his head down.

“I, uh, I like it...,” he said. “When you hold me. No one has—”

He froze as if he had said too much. It was too late. You understood perfectly, and it hurt. He must have spent so much time alone. Mandalorians weren’t exactly known for much beyond fighting, and you couldn’t imagine them being much into relationships. Such a large portion of their young was adopted, it couldn’t have been a life with much sentimentality.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked,” he continued at your silence.

“No. I can stay,” you breathed out. You weren’t thrilled at the idea, it was too innocent. You didn’t just want to climb into his bed if you weren’t going to get to give him everything, like you wanted.

You returned to the side of the cot, sitting down before hiking your legs up onto the bed, getting comfortable next to Mando. His arm wrapped around your waist, centimeters away from the edge of your shirt. It felt like your skin was on fire. If only he would just slip his hand under the fabric, you would explode.

You slipped an arm around him, hoping it was okay. He made a sound, muffled by the mask, but you thought it was good. It was so easy to feel comfortable, wrapped up with Mando, the guy you had come to care so much about. You wanted to imagine it was something more. Something better. But you would take what you could get. It wasn’t like you could enter a relationship. Both of you were bounty hunters. You worked alone.

His thumb started moving in circles across your abdomen and holy shit, that felt good. You wanted him to keep doing that for as long as you could get.

“Mando,” you breathed, and he stopped.

“Sorry, I didn’t—”

“Please, don’t stop,” you said. Nothing happened. You were convinced you had completely ruined it. The rest of the job would be painful longing glances. If he didn’t kick you out first.

Then it started again and you exhaled. You were leaning into his every touch. His hand slipped down further, coming into contact with your skin and you let out a filthy moan you really hoped wouldn’t come back to bite you in the ass later.

You pulled him closer as carefully as possible, as not to disturb his wound, and your heads crashed together, the hard beskar hitting your skull with a painful thunk.

“Fuck!” you leaned back, hand flying to your forehead, feeling an already developing bump. Mando pushed back, distancing himself from you.

“I’m sorry I—”

“It’s fine, can you take that off?” you just wanted his hands back on your body, you wanted to feel him close, and you knew he felt the same.

“I can’t.” Shit. The creed.

“Right, sorry, I didn’t—”

“Wait right there,” he said, sitting up with a groan and leaning over you. He reached down to the ground where the pile of his armor was.

When he lay back down again he was holding the remains of his shirt. Ripping a strip from it, he held it up in front of your face.

“Is this okay?” he said.

It took a moment for you to understand what he was asking, but once you knew, you nodded. He set it in front of your eyes, carefully wrapping around your head, tying it into a smooth knot. It smelled like him: the cold of the beskar and the warmth of leather and sweat.

You heard a soft hiss and then the sound of another person breathing in front of you. You were pretty sure you could sense his arm reach around you as he placed his helmet on the ground before he was back onto you, hands running across your waist, underneath your shirt.

You tried to pull him in again, this time successfully, holding his hips against yours as you rolled into him. He moaned, an unfiltered sound that you hoped to commit to memory.

“You have no idea how much I’ve wanted to do this,” he said, “to feel you, to touch you, to be right next to you.”

“Mando, I—” you started before he reached a hand around your ass, squeezing gently and you gasped into his neck. His voice was so perfect. It came from his chest, husky and deep, and its sound settled deep in your core. You pushed your hips up into him, throwing your injured leg over him to obtain more friction.

He ran his hand around and underneath you, trailing down your thigh and back up, over the bandage and you flinched. He moved his hand back up to your waist and you whined. You took the hand that was on his waist and reached it lower down on his body, bringing him somehow even closer to you.

“I know we can’t,” he was breathing heavily now, long pauses punctuating every word, “I know we can’t do more, you’re, you’re injured. I’m injured, but—”

He stopped to let out a noise you knew would be etched into your brain years later as you rolled your hips into him, the friction hitting you just as hard. He began to rut his hips into yours, and you could feel his erection poking at you.

You let him set the pace, your heart rate steadily increasing as you felt an orgasm build up, and moved your hands up to his face. You had no idea what he looked like, and you knew it didn’t really matter. You had fallen for him back when you hadn’t even seen more than a small patch of skin. But now you could feel the soft curve of his jaw, his smooth lips, and the light stubble of a few days without shaving.

He must have liked your hands roaming across your face, because he moaned again, thrusting harder against you. The friction of his erection and the cotton of your underwear was setting you on fire, and you knew you were seconds away from an orgasm, you hips bucking into his involuntarily.

“Mando, I—fuck, Mando—I’m gonna, I’m gonna cum,” you could hardly keep your voice down.

“Fuck, you’re so hot under my hands,” Mando breathed out, and that was just about enough to push you over, “Cum for me baby.”

And the feeling washed over you, white-hot and uncontrollable, flooding through your body, causing your head to throb with pleasure and you pressed into him. He kept moving against you, and even though you were spent, you rolled your hips another time, and you felt his body shudder, his motions stilling as he groaned.

You wished you could see his face as he orgasmed, jealous of his ability to see you moments ago in the heat of things. You held his back, feeling the rise and fall of his chest against your stomach.

“That was—” Mando breathed, “That was good.”

You chuckled. “Good? I, oh fuck, I loved that. I’ve been wanting to...”

“Me too,” he said, dipping his head into your chest. You reached a hand up into his hair, tangling your fingers in the soft strands which were longer than you had expected.

“Wish we weren’t all bandaged up,” he mumbled.

“Oh yeah? Why’s that?” you asked.

“I want to take off that shirt and your underwear. Want to feel you. Want to be inside you,” he said and you felt the stir of arousal start up again.

But you were exhausted. The fight earlier today leaving you with little energy beyond the adrenaline needed to perform first aid. It was a miracle you were able to manage what you did with Mando.

“I want that too, Mando,” you said, “Please promise me when we’re better, you’ll do that.”

“Fuck, I can promise you so much more,” he said.

“Can you promise me that we can fall asleep right here in each other’s arms?”

He raised his head from beneath your chin, and his lips brushed against yours. You leaned in, his soft lips catching yours between them. It was over all too soon.

“I don’t want to be anywhere else.”

taglist; @pascalisthepunkest​, @turquiosenights

[tamakiamajikistentacles]

To Die For {Katsuki Bakugo}

A/N: This has been in the works for months and I made sure I’d have it done for Blasty’s birthday 💥 After all, what better way to celebrate than with like, 9.1k of dad-to-be Bakugo? So ayyy happy birthday Katsuki, 4/20 explode it 💥💥💥

"Who would be stupid enough to come after us? We're the Bakugo's!"

He wished she had never said it, even if it was a joke at the time. He wished the thought had never even crossed her mind. The stupid woman was too optimistic for her own damn good and of course the universe had decided to give a huge middle finger to their little family in the worst way.

It was somewhat astounding that it had taken that long for something terrible to happen, really. Seven years together, three of them married, but the eighth month of pregnancy was the tipping point. Of-fucking-course.

Any other time in their lives she would be able to protect herself, no doubt in his mind, but now? She couldn’t use her quirk because there was no telling if the life energy it drew from to create her weapons and shield would harm the baby and neither of them were willing to risk that in any way. Her quirk, Ki, allowed her to harness her own life energy and transfer it into the shape of tangible objects, bursts of offense, or to another person for energy restoration; it was as useful as it was dangerous.

With a huge stomach she couldn’t just rely on her physical strength alone, and a miniscule part of him wondered if she thought it was the only way, would she use her quirk to try and fight back if the only other option was death? No, the overwhelmingly large part of him knew, she wouldn’t. She would fight physically without her quirk as a last resort but she wouldn’t endanger the tiny life inside of her in such an unknown way. She had been out of action of damn near a year now, her quirk dormant since the day they made their decision to start their own family. The doctor’s assessment of how her quirk could affect pregnancy was horrifying and she had resolved not to use her quirk from that moment until after their child was swaddled safely in Katsuki’s arms and at least ten meters away.

Her dedication to having a family was what made everything worse in his opinion. She had taken time off from hero work to get pregnant, be pregnant, and would take even more time off for the beginning of their daughter’s life. The highest ranking she had held was 22nd and it was just as she had announced her leave from active duty as a pro, and realistically both she and Katsuki knew that ranking would never recover; it couldn’t once she took her pre-planned schedule of reduced patrols and days on call for villain attacks.

Everything had been planned and there were backups to backup plans because they knew that not everything could go according to their plans despite how well-thought out they were but this was just sickening.

He had been on desk duty at the agency with both Kirishima and Sero which meant it was more relaxed, and even Bakugo could appreciate that every once in a while now that he wasn’t foaming at the mouth to prove himself as a hero. He was ranked 4th and it was the highest he had ever been, but he was the youngest person in the Top Five, just behind the old, aging bastard Endeavor, the still annoyingly plucky Hawks, and his personal favorite of those ahead of him, Mirko. Despite his pride in his current position, he was still determined to make it to Number One, and he knew he would, especially when he would have a little one all his own to inspire; “I did this for you,” a phrase he had at the ready for the day that ranking would be announced.

Desk duty was a part of that journey to the top whether he liked it or not. The good part about desk duty days, especially with Kirishima, were that lunch could truly be an hour long and spent at the ramen bar a block away from the agency. Their spicy miso ramen was his favorite and it made the jabs at his palate worth listening to as his mouth watered at the visible heat that could be seen rising from his bowl.

It was after lunch that he and the others were pulled aside into one of the affectionately named war rooms, all three expecting to be told to suit up and head out to respond to a call for backup. The last thing they could have ever predicted, though, was to be greeted by a solemn-looking man in a uniform with a corrections logo on his lapel.

The man stumbled through apologies and excuses as he explained that three high risk villains being transported from their correctional facility to a higher security institution had managed to disarm and disorient their escorts which allowed them to escape. A folder with profiles on each of them was slid in front of the three heroes.

Metal Morph – Quirk: Steel Claws – Retractable steel claws extend from his cuticles at will.

Harpy – Quirk: Avian – Has the beak, talons, and wingspan of a bird while maintaining some physically human characteristics.

Star – Quirk: Drain – By touching another living thing with all five fingers, he can drain their energy to whatever degree he wants, ranging from sleepy exhaustion to death.

Bakugo recognized them immediately from the takedown roughly two months prior. He had been the one to work out their plan of attack since the ringleader Star’s quirk acted similar to his wife’s whose own weaknesses he understood well. All in all it had been a quick and efficient job, the usual threats spewing from the defeated thugs as they were led away in quirk cancelling handcuffs. Generally those threats didn’t bother him, and at the time they hadn’t. “I’ll get you for this, Ground Zero, just you wait,” was pretty standard, but breaking out of custody was not and that’s what had him internally panicking.

Getting him back didn’t necessitate harm to him directly, not when it was a well-known fact that he was married to a fellow hero who had publicly announced her plans to step away from hero work to start a family.

Midway through the more in-depth recounting of the escape, he abruptly stood up. “I have to make a phone call.”

Several of the suits in the room began to protest when Kirishima snapped, “Three villains who threatened to get back at him just escaped and his wife is eight months pregnant, I think he has the right to make a damn call to see if she’s alright.

Bakugo heard him as he continued out the door and into the hallway, grateful that he didn’t have to dignify the idiots with his breath. He was too wound up, his heart pounding as he first texted Jiro to go to his apartment; his old classmate lived in the same complex and he knew she was home that day, so having her go as backup for his wife was only logical. Then he called his wife’s phone, every fiber of his being on edge as he waited for her usual greeting, a playful threat to get back to work that never came.

Pure unfiltered panic coursed through him when he pulled the phone from his ear to hang up only to find a text from Jiro asking why she should be going to his empty apartment. When he called her, she explained that she’d stopped by ten minutes earlier with no answer, assumed his wife had set out to satisfy a lunchtime craving, and gone back to her own apartment. He explained what had happened with the villains and she went back to his apartment, her spare key in hand. She didn’t even get a chance to finish her sentence when she told him of the broken balcony window and his wife’s cell phone still on the kotatsu before he ended the call and ran back into the conference room.

They knew, just based on his expression, that the worst possible scenario had already begun to unfold.

As soon as the briefing was over, Bakugo went into his office and sat down at his desk. His first instinct was to go in blasting anything that moved but he had to think it through, this wasn’t the time to go in and rain explosions without thinking. His wife and his daughter were at stake, and he had to be rational or it could mean that they wouldn’t…

The open-ended thought alone had him grabbing the small wastepaper bin and shoving his head into it so he could vomit his meal back up.

Panting hard, he made the decision to fight. He didn’t trust anyone but himself to head a rescue operation but that would take time to coordinate and he didn’t have time, he had a wife and unborn child being held hostage by villains with quirks that could do nothing but harm to the both of them. He’d taken out more than three villains on his own before and with the addition of who he was fighting for he knew he could sure as hell do it again.

He gathered the last pieces of his hero costume and shoved it into its carrying case that had been its travelling home since UA. Desk days meant being on call so he was dressed in a decent portion of his costume already, needing only his knee pads, gauntlets, mask, and neck piece to be ready for action. Pulling a hoodie over his head, he drew the strings tight and slid a pair of sunglasses on.

Ignoring the shouts of his friends and other agency members he breezed out of the building with his phone in one hand and his costume case in the other. He headed towards the train station, his destination only a thirty-minute trip.

Sitting in a deserted section of the train car, he kept his eyes glued to the open tracking app on his screen, his own orange dot updating coordinates every few seconds as he rocketed across several neighborhoods. The other dot, his wife’s, was stationary.  

When they were married, they agreed that given the nature of their hero work there would be times where they could potentially be held hostage or transported via quirk to different locations. Neither of them wanted any sort of repeat of Katsuki’s experience during the training camp of first year; they hadn’t been together at the time, but it was hard on both of them nonetheless. So it was decided that their wedding rings would hold tracking devices so small that no one but them knew they were there. It linked up to an app that showed their locations to one another and could then be used for rescue and extraction.

In the three years since their wedding it had only been used by him to tease her about how often she went to the bakery four blocks west of their apartment building on her days off. Now he was thanking every star in the sky that they had decided on the small backup plan.

When the stop came he moved quickly to follow the tracker towards the dot that hadn’t moved since he left the agency. The coordinates led him towards a more suburban area that tapered off for two blocks before a large billboard advertising a new housing development came into view—move in date for next spring, applications being accepted now.

At the billboard is where he added the last pieces of his costume, the case and his civilian clothes set aside like so many times before; they always made their way back to him. Tightening his mask, he heard footsteps approaching him and he whipped around, palms crackling as he readied for a fight.

“Hell of a hello for someone here to help,” Kirishima laughed through hardened features, well aware of his partner’s potential reaction. He was dressed in his full hero costume looking every bit as ready for a fight as the blonde.

Bakugo relaxed his stance, a hard look set on his face. “How did you find me? I disabled the location on my comm when I got on the train.”

Kirishima held up his phone as his hardening retreated, his features back to normal. “Your wife gave me the tracking info for both of you. Great idea, honestly. Backup is coming too, we’ll probably just need to send out the exact info once we find where they are in this development.”

“The fuck you follow me for?”

“To have your back like I always have. And just like I always have before too, I’m ignoring you telling me that you don’t need me. So tell me your plan so I don’t get in your way.”

“I blast them to hell, you get her out,” he said simply. “Don’t let them touch her.”

“You can count on me,” he assured him, and Bakugo knew that he could. He knew that if anyone was going to come after him and watch his back, it would be Kirishima. He knew the redhead would sooner die than let him down, especially with a mission like this. To die for his best friend’s family would be a manly way to go—a hero’s way.

“Let’s move.”

They continued follow the tracking app deeper into the housing development, the wooden signs staked in the front yards bearing the lot numbers. It was eerie almost, the cookie cutter western style homes looking like something out of an American teen movie but still and quiet, no traffic noise or general sounds of habitation.

It was at lot number nineteen that placed Bakugo’s dot almost directly over his wife’s, and he tilted the phone screen towards Kirishima, nodding towards the door of the house. Moving closer, there were still no sounds from inside, and the quiet continued when they entered the building, quickly and methodically clearing each room one by one. When they found nothing in the general living spaces they descended into the basement, and still they didn’t find her.

Seeing Bakugo’s growing frustration and panic, Kirishima leaned a hand against the stone wall of the small basement, the cool, rough texture grounding him enough to try and think of what they may have missed. Until he felt it shift.

Eyes wide, he caught Bakugo’s attention and pressed harder on the wall to move it even more. He realized it was a door, the break in the walls not visible in the limited light, and it led to a small corridor towards what had to be an offshoot.

“Me first,” Bakugo told him lowly, a hand on his shoulder as he passed him. “Stay out of sight until I attack, then do everything you can to get her the fuck out.”

He nodded, determined. “They won’t touch her.”

Voices could be heard on the other side of the short corridor, the angry feminine one bringing relief like no other to the both of them. She was alive and she was pissed by the sound of it, insults flying from her mouth like bullets from a gun.

Kirishima hung back in the shadows just beyond where the dim lights of the other room could reach as Bakugo entered, completely visible to two of the villains standing around his angry wife across the room had they not been watching her. The ringleader only a few steps to his right had yet to notice his presence either.

“You’ve got a mouth on you,” he said, a grimace on his lips.

“And guess where the fuck she learned it from, shithead.”

All eyes turned to him, his wife’s looking relieved as a hand raised to push her hair out of her eyes.

“Well look who found us,” Star said airily.

Bakugo snarled, provoked by the indifferent tone, and prepared to strike. A body knocked into him as he moved to rush the cocky son of a bitch, sending him into the wall hard. He could taste iron on his lip but his resolve to kick the shit out of the one responsible for taking away his wife and daughter was stronger than a little bit of blood.

“None of you are walking away from this,” he said, spitting to the side as he regained his footing. “I’ll blow each and every one of ya straight to hell.”

With a shake of his head, Star met his gaze. "I'm going to make your life hell, Ground Zero."

The pro hero chuckled, thumbing at the trickle of blood from the corner of his mouth.

"There's only one person allowed to make my life hell and she's gotten pretty good at it over the past seven years. You've got no chance, asshole."

The villain hummed sinisterly. “It’s going to be so satisfying watching your face as I drain the life out of her and that little leech in her stomach. I can drag it out, too. It’s usually more fun for me that way.”

Bakugo’s lips curled into a sneer, and he launched himself straight at Star with a quick burst from his palms. He’d have to be careful to avoid full contact with five fingers but he was versatile in battle, his attacks varied enough to be suitable for any range. He’d keep close but just out of reach, his midrange moves likely to be more than enough to blow the asshole away.

His issue came in the form of the bird one, Harpy, that was running interference to keep him away from Star who had no offense other than close range. Fine, he could keep two of them at bay.

Across the open area Kirishima was now in the room, entering into a stare down with the villain called Metal Morph, the blue haired man ready to keep him away from Bakugo’s wife who sat back against the stone wall, hands wrapped protectively around her stomach.

“If you surrender now, you can walk away unharmed,” Kirishima offered the villain. “No matter what you choose, you’ll be taken into custody. Make it easy on yourself.”

With a chuckle as the only response, the villain leapt towards him with steel claws drawn. He hardened his upper body easily and crossed his arms to block the slashes, digging his heels into the packed earth floor to stay balanced from the blow. He then charged Metal Morph, his arms taking on his Unbreakable form, having managed to master the move to the point where he could harness it in certain areas instead of his whole body.

Each of them being close range fighters, they were fairly even in terms of intensity, but Kirishima’s skill was unmatched. Within moments he was able to subdue him after a hard hit with an Unbreakable fist sent him flying into a wall, knocking him out as his head bashed against the stone and his body slid down to slump onto his left side.

Releasing his quirk, Kirishima turned to Bakugo’s wife and held out a hand to her, helping her up from her place on the ground. “Are you alright? Are you hurt? Is the baby okay?”

“We’re okay,” she said hoarsely. “They’ve barely even touched me aside from when they took me from the apartment. No hits, no falls. I’ve played nice to make sure nothing happened.”

“Good, that’s good,” he murmured. “I’m gonna take you out of here, backup shouldn’t be far out. Bakugo can handle those two. Do you mind if I pick you up? It’s probably faster, no offence.”

She nodded with a grin. “Get me the fuck out of here.”

He smiled as he scooped her up, careful to hold her steady but not too tight. Turning to the corridor he started towards it, glancing to Bakugo who was flung backwards, and he was fighting himself not to hesitate. He had his orders, he had to get her out—

The villain Harpy crashed into him and made him stumble, but he kept his hold on her and regained his footing. He couldn’t harden his entire body without cutting her with the way he held her and if he let her down the villain could take her. His mind raced with his next move as he felt her shift her legs off of his arm and to the ground, freeing his left side as his right kept her shielded.

Kirishima swung his arm back as he felt the shift in the air from Harpy flying towards him again, hoping to knock him away or off balance. He managed to hit the birdlike man in the temple which caused him to crumple to the ground, but not before he had sunk his talons over his shoulder and dug them in deep.

Pain exploded in his shoulder and he cried out, his hold around her waist dropping as he doubled over to clutch at his shoulder. His knees gave out and he sank to the ground, shock creeping across his skin as blood flowed from the cuts with each beat of his heart.

She knelt down next to him, guiding his head onto her lap. Basic first aid wasn’t much to wounds like this but it could slow the bleeding and buy them time until backup arrived. She just hoped it would be enough.

"Shit, Kirishima, you gotta be okay," she said, ripping the bottom of her dress to create a bandage to help stop the bleeding. "Fuck fuck fuck fuck!"

She wound the ripped pieces of cloth around his left side, his eyes hazy and unfocused. Little whimpers of pain escaped his lips as she pulled the fabric tight against the wound and pressed down firmly.

“Baby girl B,” he breathed out, wincing as he registered the pressure against his shredded shoulder. “Are you both…?”

She nodded, biting her lip. “We’re okay, Kirishima, we’re okay. You took the hit, and they never even touched us.”

He swallowed, nodding as his face scrunched in pain, his eyes closed. Sharp teeth bit into his bottom lip and his right hand balled into a fist.

Bakugo, who had seen the hit, froze at the sight of all the blood on his partner from where he had landed from Harpy’s last attack. It took only a beat for him to see his wife go to the redhead and begin tending to him, but it was a beat too long for him to have lost focus.

Five chilled fingers pressed against his exposed bicep and immediately his entire being felt like lead, his body leaning heavily against the wall. With all his strength he turned his head to see Star’s hand dropping from his arm, a self-satisfied smirk painted across his face. He stepped a few paces back, head cocked as if admiring his handiwork, and Bakugo decided in that moment what had to be done to end this.

“Real shame about Red Riot,” Star said in mock sadness. “Willing to die for his partner’s little whore wife to be saved only for her, the parasite you put in her, and him all to die right in front of your eyes.”

Bakugo’s heart picked up speed, his blood pumping the anger through his veins as he slowly uncurled his right palm and turned it out towards the monologuing villain. It never failed to get them into trouble, fuckin’ amateur.

“I won’t kill you, though, Ground Zero,” Star continued, “no, I’m going to make you watch them die. The three people you care about the most all dead and it’ll be on you.”

“None of them are dying today,” he ground out, palm heating.

Star smirked. “You heroes are all too—”

An explosive stream burst from his palm—a smaller version of his AP Shot designed to work like a blowtorch—and hit the villain in front of him in the thighs causing his knees to buckle, pitching him forward onto his hands and knees in front of Bakugo.

“You villains are all so fucking stupid.”

He shakily raised his right arm, fatigue crawling over his bones and his muscles screaming at the weight of his gauntlet.

“You came into my home, kidnapped my pregnant wife, made your cronies injure my partner, and had plans to kill the three most important people in my life—the three people who make up my fucking family.”

He opened his extended palm, aiming for the now pleading villain in front of him.

"You come after me and I'll kill ya," Bakugo breathed, his left forefinger hooking into the pin of the gauntlet, "but you come after my family and I'll fuckin' destroy you."

On his final word, he pulled the pin.

A massive explosion rocked the open space, the heat being felt on her cheeks as she turned away from the blast, curling herself around Kirishima to shield him from debris without taking the pressure off of his wounds. It would do no good for Katsuki to win the fight but lose his best friend.

Her ears were still ringing when the smoke around them began to clear, and she leaned harder into Kirishima’s shoulder. He gave a soft grunt at the pressure and his jaw twitched as he clenched his teeth. His eyes were still closed, and she could feel the tight coil of his body relaxing, panic running through her at the realization that he was slipping into unconsciousness.

From across the room she heard a shout of her name, “Are you injured? Is the baby okay? What about Kirishima—"

"I’m fine Katsuki, but how far out is backup?" she replied, hands slipping against bloodied skin. "He's in a bad way, Katsuki. I... I don't know how much more blood he can lose!"

His eyes widened as he finished snapping the capture cuffs onto Star, abandoning the crumpled villain and sprinting the short distance to her, dropping down to his knees beside her.

“Fuck! My comm was wrecked when I first came in, where’s his? He usually keeps it in these stupid gears,” he rambled, opening the compartment of his shoulder piece, careful not to jostle him or bump her hands.

Practically on cue, Kirishima's communication device radioed that teams were arriving at that moment and needed a pinpointed location. Bakugo grabbed it from within the compartment and brought it up to relay the info, his hands shaking slightly as he pressed the button to speak.

"This is Ground Zero, current location is an offshoot of the sub-basement of lot number nineteen. Red Riot's down and needs medics fucking stat, he's lost a lot of blood. The villains have been handled with use of potentially deadly force to protect all parties. Hostage is safe and unharmed."

She looked toward him, panic evident in her eyes as Kirishima's head lolled to his right, breath shortened to small puffs against her thigh.

"C'mon, Shitty Hair, don't do this," he muttered, gloved hands cradling the redhead's face. "You don't get to die today."

She continued the pressure on the wound, her heart hammering against her ribcage.

"You listen to me and you listen good, Kirishima," her husband continued, his teeth gritted, "I'll be fucking damned if you bleed out on my wife and don't get to meet my daughter. The hell am I supposed to tell her, huh? That you saved her and her mother but your stupid ass got killed doing it?"

"Katsuki," she whispered, eyes starting to sting as the sound of reinforcements arriving began to grow louder.

He glanced up at her, eyes wild and desperate. "No! He needs to know he's an idiot if he dies!" He looked back down to the redhead. "The day I got married you were so excited to be my best man and there's more I need you to do, you asshole! You gotta be here to-to be Uncle Ei for my baby girl! And I want you to be her godfather! I don't fucking trust anyone else to take care of my kid if something happens to us!"

Tears tracked down her cheeks as she watched his head bow, blonde hair obscuring his masked face further.

"You gotta fight," he murmured so softly she almost didn't hear amidst the shouting beyond the corridor. "You got me back at Kamino. You got my wife and daughter back now. You gotta fight so my daughter can meet the best friend I've ever had. C'mon, Ei. Just fight."

His words faded into the air between them, still for only a moment before the first responders appeared around the rubble and broke into smaller groups to tend to both Kirishima and the villains. Two others approached the couple once they moved back from their friend, Bakugo’s arms wrapped securely around her and hugging her close to him.

“I’m fine,” she started as one of them opened their mouth to begin a verbal assessment. “My forearm is a little scraped up so that will need tended to but other than that I’m unharmed. I just want to make sure the stress hasn’t had any adverse effects on the baby.”

They nodded, pulling out supplies to start treating the scrape and asking some follow up questions. Their partner turned to Bakugo and was also cut off before they even began.

“Cuts and scrapes. Gonna have a few bruises. They can patch me up at the hospital,” he said, tone final. As far as he was concerned, his wife, daughter, and best friend were much more important to be tended to.

His eyes slid over the responder’s shoulder to where a small crowd was around Kirishima, four men and one woman. The men were assessing him and applying more pressure to the wound, muttering flowing between them. The woman was calm in comparison, rigging up what Bakugo recognized as a small, portable transfusion apparatus to her own arm before working on fastening the other end to Kirishima’s.

“Blood type?” she prompted as she worked.

“O,” one of the men responded. It was common practice to send all relevant medical information to the responders heading towards a scene where pros were involved, a useful trove of information that allowed quick, informed decisions to be made when there were serious injuries.

“He’s high risk with this sort of trauma as a type O,” the woman informed them before finishing the setup in his arm, “but you know I’m not the type to lose a cute redhead.”

Bakugo wanted to snap at her to do her damn job, not flirt with his unconscious, possibly fucking dying if he was so damn high-risk partner, but a squeeze to his hand brought him back to the fact that he had his two girls to look after.

“He’s gonna be okay,” she assured him with a steady voice.

“He sure as fuck better be,” he grunted, fingers intertwining with hers as they were approached to provide statements. Neither of them were eager to stay back for them despite only needing ten minutes max between the two, but they both knew that Kirishima needed to be taken immediately and it would be easier in the long run for him if they provided everything they could now.

So as the redhead was taken out through the corridor and to the local medical facility, they ran through their accounts quickly, her abduction, hours held captive, and the fight between the heroes and villains that had one in critical condition pouring out as clinical and thorough as possible. With promises of a formal report once Kirishima was released from the hospital, Bakugo began to lead her out of the area, frustrated that they weren’t with Kirishima and afraid that something could be wrong with the baby despite his wife assuring him that nothing had physically happened to cause damage.

The fear didn’t melt away until they were at the hospital in an exam room with the strong, steady heartbeat of his daughter echoing through the small space. It calmed him down exponentially to hear the doctor tell them that everything was alright, that mom and baby were both just as they should be. So with that knowledge and the fact that Kirishima was in surgery to repair his shoulder and ensure there was no further damage, he allowed himself to be treated, the few cuts and scrapes he had sustained cleaned and bandaged.

Once he was finished, they headed towards the private recovery area to wait for Kirishima to be out of surgery, Bakugo’s knee bouncing for the entirety of the half hour leading up to a doctor asking if they were there for Eijirou Kirishima. They were told that he was stable and would recover just fine, but physical therapy would likely be necessary. The scarring he mentioned with a grimace made the couple snort—Kirishima had always thought that scars from hero work were “the manliest badge of honor a guy could receive!”

They were granted permission to wait in his room for him to wake up, something the doctor said could take a while based on how much blood he had lost. The immediate transfusion at the scene had definitely helped, but his body needed time to heal from what it had gone through.

While Bakugo understood that, he was still anxious when two hours later Kirishima’s eyes remained closed and his breathing even.

"He should've woken up by now," he muttered, arms crossed tight over his chest as he stared at his unmoving partner.

"Katsuki, he lost a lot of blood. His body's been through a lot, so I think it's okay that he's still out. The doctor said he's stable."

"Until he's awake and giving us that dumbass smile of his, I won't be happy."

"You know, I think Kirishima would prefer you focus on other important things while he's lying here in stable condition."

He fixed her with a hard stare. "What in the fuck could be more important than my best friend and partner not waking up after almost bleeding out in your lap?"

She shrugged. "I mean, I'm pretty sure I'm in labor so I figured you may want to deal with that."

"What the hell did you just say?" he whispered, voice soft.

"I started having contractions when they came to tell us he was out of surgery," she admitted. “They weren’t that close together and I knew you’d want to try and wait for him to wake up, so I didn’t mention it. But now, I think it would be best to get me admitted because they’re way more intense and have been slowly getting closer together for about half an hour now.”

Bakugo closed his eyes for a moment and blew out a breath. “With the amount of pure fucking chaos today has been, I’m not even surprised.”

“You’re not mad?”

“Babe, I don’t think I have any room for anger in me right now with all the fucking worry,” he chuckled darkly. “But I’m the one who needs the least amount of attention. C’mon, you need a room and one of those baby heartbeat belt things, right? Let’s go.”

She watched him stand up and head for the door, throwing a glance back at Kirishima’s unconscious form one last time, and stood to join him, her hands clasped beneath her belly as she reached him. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and guided her through the off-white hallways. His calm demeanor was surprising, but more helpful than she could imagine.

As she was set up in the maternity room he stood by her side waiting for instruction from either her or the doctor, very unsure of what he was supposed to be doing at this stage. All the parenting books and articles he had (secretly) read just advised to do as he was asked but no one had asked him to do anything. He hoped that over the course of her labor he would be given a task, something to do to feel useful.

And they did, the tasks asked of him over the next few hours being small: calling friends and family, helping her into and out of bed as she walked around the room, fetching her cold compresses, massaging her sore legs. Whatever made it easier on her, he would do.

Her contractions had built in intensity throughout the night and into the early morning hours, her whimpers of pain tearing at his heart, but she continued to grit her teeth and keep calm. He was relieved when she was able to sleep even if it was only for an hour or two. It was at least some time where her discomfort wasn’t at the forefront of her mind. It also allowed him some time to begin outlining the report on the previous day’s events, a task he had no desire to complete but one he would rather finish as soon as possible if it meant he could begin his paternity leave quickly.

By noon she was dilated eight centimeters, in an intense amount of pain, and practically foaming at the mouth with the desire to start pushing. He tried to comfort her, reassuring her that it would soon be time to start pushing and they would meet their daughter which she found endearing more than anything; it wasn’t often that he was the one trying to calm her down.

To keep the time passing and her attention focused on him instead of the pain and waiting he talked to her about anything he could think of. He talked about the lunch he had with Kirishima and Sero the previous day and brought up memories of their days at UA when they were younger and dumber but not blind to the evils of the world. At one point they discussed names for the baby, a topic that up until then had been volatile at best. The same conclusion was drawn every time: “I have to see her to know what her name should be.”

Finally, at almost three o’clock in the afternoon, it was time for her to begin pushing.

For over an hour she pushed, her refusal for any help with pain something she resolved to revisit for any future children. Katsuki didn’t leave her side, his hand clasped tightly in hers and giving her all the encouragement she could ever need with curse words peppered in just as expected. She would’ve been disappointed if his coaching was anything else.

And suddenly it was over, her body belonging only to her again for the first time in nearly a year. It was over and another Bakugo had entered the world, her volume easily betraying her heritage as Katsuki cut the cord with a dazed expression on his face. He was speechless, watching as the little girl was taken to the other side of the room to be cleaned and weighed and swaddled while his wife continued with the delivery of placenta and receiving her stitches. While he didn’t leave her side, his eyes remained on the small baby as if he was afraid that she would disappear if he wasn’t looking at her.

As quickly as the room had filled with doctors and nurses, it was empty just as fast once everything was over and the tiny child was placed in her mother’s arms.

His wife let out a choked sob of a laugh as the last nurse exited the room with a reminder to buzz if they needed anything, glassy eyes trained on the little girl in her arms. She repositioned the edges of the blanket around her with shaky hands and a wobbly smile.

“Look at her, Katsuki,” she whispered, her voice wavering. “Look, she has your eyes!”

He couldn’t stop staring at the blotchy-faced little blonde in his wife’s arms, her nearly-too-light-to-see brows furrowed as she stared up at them wailing. She definitely had his eyes, the bright red even looking indignant at the fact that she wasn’t as warm as she had been for the last so many months.

“She’s… she’s finally here,” she continued. “We have a daughter, we’re parents.”

He felt emotion bubbling in his chest and he wasn’t sure if it was purely the exhaustion from being awake for a day and a half or the fact that his child was safely swaddled in the love of his life’s arms or the fear that his best friend was so close to never being able to meet his daughter, or likely a combination of everything. Regardless, he knew that this was a day he would never forget for the rest of his life, for both the good and the bad it had brought.

“Can I hold her?” he asked as he finally found his voice, rough as it may be with the emotions swirling beneath his skin.

She sobbed out another laugh, eyes misty as she beckoned him closer. “She’s your daughter, of course you can hold her.”

He didn’t respond, only wiping his nervous hands on his pants before leaning forward and allowing his wife to gently set the newborn in his arms. Hyperaware of how his hands supported her, he sat back in his chair and looked down at the slowly calming child in his arms.

His child, he reminded himself, his daughter with the woman crazy enough to stick by him for so many years. Somehow he had ended up with the both of them in spite of the unforgivable words he spoke as a teenager, the anger had used as a weapon for so long, and all the other mistakes he had made in his life.

A small huff of a laugh escaped him as he moved a hand to rest atop the blanket bundled around her. She was fascinating to him, red eyes and just a smidge lighter than his ashy blonde hair so easily traceable to him but surprising nonetheless. It was surreal to be holding her, finally, after so long watching her mother’s belly grow and speaking to the taut skin that was her first home, and he could only continue to laugh quietly in disbelief.

“I’m your dad,” he managed to tell her between giggles. “I’m your dad and one day I’m gonna be the highest ranked hero to all of Japan, but I’m always gonna be your number one hero, yeah? You and your mom gotta be my biggest fans.”

Having been discreetly taking pictures of the moment, his wife began to tear up again at his words. Never once had she imagined a scene like this when they were teenagers and began dating during their second year at UA, but watching it unfold right before her eyes was more than she could have ever hoped for. Katsuki would be happy when they finally met their daughter, she’d always known that throughout the past few months, but this was better than any other reaction she could dream of.

“We’ll always cheer the loudest,” she said with a watery smile.

He looked up at her, the grin still on his face. “You damn well better.”

They were both in awe at the little girl and the influence she held over them already, the next hour being spent still in disbelief at the fact that she was finally with them and able to be held close, kissed, and fawned over.

It was soon after that Bakugo’s parents arrived, excited to see the newest member of the family and eager to hear the fine details of the previous day’s ordeal with the villains. They fit right into their roles as doting grandparents, Masaru taking on an even softer tone than usual to speak to the tiny girl in his arms and Mitsuki cooing affectionately how much she looked like her daddy. Bakugo held so much pride in the little family he had built for himself, watching his parents interact with his daughter stirring within him the desire to be different, be better with her than they were with him. She would be great, but she would be humble.

He was happy that his parents could see how far he’d come, from explosive little brat to a hero with a family, explosions still prominent but saved for work alone. It was nice too for him to see them happy and proud of him, the phrase not something he had heard from them in a long time. Everything felt right, at peace, except for one obvious missing piece.

His parents stayed until visiting hours were over and left after many hugs and promises to help whenever they needed. That was also comforting to know they were near and able to help them if the need arose, her own family from much farther away and unable to come as quickly should they need grandparents’ intervention.

Bakugo blinked sleepily as he finished changing his daughter out of one tiny white hospital onesie and into another, grateful that his parents had been able to grab their hospital bags and bring them in so he didn’t need to leave the hospital himself. A day and a half with no sleep was beginning to catch up with him.

“Katsuki, you should sleep,” his wife said as she watched him scoop the baby up. “You didn’t nap when I did while I was in labor which means you’ve been awake for nearly 36 hours straight. You need to rest.”

He shook his head as he cradled their daughter close. “S’okay, I can stay up with her tonight, you’ve been through way too much in the last two days. Plus I’ll be able to get news about Kirishima as soon as there is any.”

“Baby girl is tired, I could probably get her to sleep if I feed her. She’s due to eat anyway so why don’t you go sit with Kirishima for a bit and if he’s not awake soon, come back up and rest.”

He sighed, glancing down at the wriggling little blonde in his arms. It felt like no matter what he decided he was going to be away from someone he cared about and feeling guilty.

“Gimme that baby,” she playfully demanded, beckoning him closer. “Sit with Kirishima then get your ass back up here to cuddle us.”

“I… yeah, okay,” he relented, moving to set the baby in her arms. He ran a hand through the tufts of hair on her head, one finger drifting down to run over a chubby cheek. “I’ll be back soon okay? I’m taking my phone so if you need me, text me.”

“Say bye to daddy, baby girl,” she giggled, taking her little hand and waving it cutely at him.

With a smile and a kiss to his wife, he headed out the door and to the elevators, the distance he put between himself and the maternity room feeling so much larger than he could ever anticipate. But still he walked, intent on at least seeing his best friend and hoping that he would be able to bring the happy news of his daughter’s birth.

He entered the room quietly and took a seat in the same chair he had been in when his wife had said she was in labor. That moment a day ago felt like another lifetime entirely. In a way it was, it was a life where he didn’t have his daughter in his arms, when her life in the outside world had yet to begin.

Alone with his thoughts, he watched Kirishima’s steady, even breaths, the bandages over his shoulder crossing his chest and having just enough give to ensure it wasn’t constricting his breathing. Surely he would see the bandages as another one of those manly badges of honor he always spoke of, and Bakugo would readily agree. His decision to go into a three-on-one fight wasn’t the best and without Kirishima, things would likely be very different. He didn’t want to dwell on it; it wasn’t what happened, and it could never happen again.

So he settled in to wait, slowly sliding down in the plastic chair as time ticked by on the clock above the door. He didn’t expect his partner to be out this long and he was worried. All of the good he had experienced in the last day wouldn’t feel complete, not truly, until he was seeing the goofy, sharp smile of his best friend. He wanted, no, needed him to wake up. And within forty minutes, when he saw red eyes open tiredly, he felt like he could finally breathe fully again.

When Kirishima regained consciousness and heard the distinctive beeps of hospital equipment, he didn’t even need to open his eyes to know that he and Bakugo’s mission had more than likely been successful. The soreness in his left shoulder was bearable so he’d been healed and if he was in a hospital bed then that meant that reinforcements had come and retrieved them.

Slowly blinking, he let out a sigh at the brightness of his room.

“Nice of you to finally wake your ass up.”

Turning to his right, he spotted a very exhausted Bakugo slumped down in a visitor’s chair.

“How—” he cut himself off, voice cracking weakly. He cleared his throat and tried again, “How long have you been here?”

Grunting, he sat forward. “In the hospital, a little more than a day. In your room, this time, about an hour.”

Kirishima furrowed his brows. “This time? Where else were you? Shouldn’t you be with your wife? Wait- is she here too? Is she hurt? Did something happen after I went down? Is the baby—”

“Shut up, Shitty Hair,” he groaned, rubbing a hand over his face before levelling the redhead with a tired look. “I took care of the villain after you passed out and reinforcements came in time to get your ass here to get your shoulder taken care of. We were both treated for minor cuts and we came here to wait for you to wake up, but she ended up going into labor, so I was with her for that. She’s fine and so’s my baby girl. They’re both asleep right now up on the third floor.”

“Baby girl B is here?” Kirishima whispered.

Bakugo’s lips quirked up into a soft smile. “Yeah, she’s here safe and sound. Little bit of a lighter blonde than me but she’s got my eyes without a doubt.”

“Bro, congrats, I can’t believe she’s here!” he said happily, his eyes stinging with the threat of tears. “What did you guys name her? When can I visit her? Did your parents already stop by? Have—”

“You gotta slow down with the questions, Kirishima. I’ve been awake for almost two days straight,” he grunted, no heat behind the words. “You can come up and see her as soon as you’re discharged which should be quick if you call in a nurse. My parents were here for about two hours after she was born but they headed home already. Visiting hours ended at seven but you get a special pass to come back with me for a bit tonight.”

Kirishima had never hit the call button for a nurse so quickly in his life.

Within twenty minutes, he had been checked over by the attending physician and officially discharged with orders not to return to the field for three weeks, a recommendation for physical therapy, and a bounce in his step as he followed his best friend to the elevators. He had been given a special visitors badge that allowed him in the maternity ward despite visiting hours being long over and not having a wife and child of his own to be with; generally he wouldn’t let his pro hero status be used to bend the rules like that, but considering he was about to meet his best friend since high school’s newborn daughter for the first time after a dramatic rescue, he decided that one time couldn’t hurt. Bakugo had been the one to ask for it anyway, so it wasn’t entirely on Kirishima in the first place.

His excitement was bubbling beneath his skin as he walked behind Bakugo towards the room his little family was assigned to. When they stopped at room 304, a quick but soft knock on the open door was all that needed to be done to announce their presence.

“Look, honey, daddy’s back,” his wife cooed to the small bundle gathered in her arms as she sat on the bed. She looked tired, but her smile never faltered as she glanced up to the two men. “Kirishima, I’m glad you’re alright. C’mon in, you’ve got someone who’s been waiting to meet you.”

The redhead cautiously walked forward with Bakugo who reached out to take the baby from her. Turning back, Bakugo gave him a wide grin.

“Alright, baby girl,” he murmured, tucking the blankets away from her face, “open those pretty eyes for me, there’s someone here to see you.”

Kirishima caught his first glimpse of her face, smooth skin and chubby cheeks surrounded by the minty green of the blanket she was swaddled in. Just as he’d been told, her hair stood out as paler than her father’s, but when her eyes fluttered open and he could see the bright red he’d always associated with Bakugo, he had to hold back the tears.

“’S a little Bakubaby,” he managed to laugh, his voice caught in his throat at the sight of the tiny child.

“Hold out your arms,” Bakugo instructed, placing his daughter in his hold when he complied. He watched proudly as Kirishima cradled her to his chest, then started to speak, his eyes on his friend but his words to his daughter, “Now, baby girl, I want you to meet your Uncle Ei. He’s the one who helped me make sure you and mama were safe, because he’s my best friend and has had my back since we were teenagers. He’s always gonna have your back too, you know. That’s what godfathers do, after all.”

That was the breaking point for Kirishima’s tears as he whispered out a choked, “Really?”

Bakugo nodded, chuckling. “Yeah. No one else I trust to look after my kid if something were to happen to us. You’d raise her right.”

He sniffled, then smiled back down at the tiny blonde. “Yeah, I… I’ll do my best for her no matter what. Did… did you two decide on a name for her yet?”

Bakugo glanced back, bringing his wife into the moment.

“We did,” she said, catching Kirishima’s attention. “We wanted to give her a name with meaning, and we decided that the most meaning we could find was in the man who helped make sure that she made it into the world. So, Kirishima, meet your goddaughter Kira Bakugo.”

[angryhausfrau-writes]

I Travel Troubled Oceans: Chapter 5 - In Which Jack Attempts to Become a Semi-Respectable Member of Polite Society and Charles Succeeds in Becoming a Completely Disreputable Trophy Boyfriend

Max and Mr. Scott – probably mostly Mr. Scott, who still has his finger on the pulse of London real estate in a way that's almost frighteningly omniscient - somehow land Jack and company a lovely house that's been subjected to a series of absolutely atrocious renovations and sat empty since the late nineties. So Charles and Anne spend the first few weeks of laying low pulling out all of the hideous carpeting and knocking down the terrible wood paneling – and in one case, an entire (non load-bearing) wall, which they attack with sledge hammers and far, far too much glee. And Mary, bless her, spends the week sweeping and scrubbing and peeling wall paper. Until the house sits an empty shell, stripped down to the stately bones that lay beneath the shag carpeting and twee plasterwork.

Jack spends his weeks learning to play tennis.

He hadn't had much chance to learn growing up, being an impoverished guttersnipe and all, so he's got a lot of ground to catch up. Because, see, the counselor – the one who'd sided with the Spanish over Lord Hamilton, allowing for his final downfall, the one who controls all of London's planning permission, the one Max needs an in with. He absolutely adores tennis.

He adores it with all the fervor of a middle class man who'd seen it as the gentleman's game growing up. And now that he's a gentleman – by wealth and importance, if not by birth, which still stings him, bitterly, and is the reason for his overcompensation – then by God, he's going to play tennis.

And since Jack's first job from Max is to get the counselor on side, he's got to learn to play tennis too. Well enough that whatever skill level the counselor actually has, Jack can play to it, keep the games close. Just barely beat the counselor or just barely lose, but keep it close enough that he keeps coming back for more. Which takes considerably more skill than simply learning the game and playing to the best of his ability.

So Jack practices and practices and practices, all with the help of a draconian ex-professional instructor Max found for him at a mid-level club nowhere near where the counselor plays for the entire month his house is torn down around his ears.

Meanwhile, in the real world, Eleanor and Woodes Rogers's world is coming down around their ears as well. Anne pays Max enough visits that she's always flush with the latest gossip – the sort of thing that goes beyond the polite, antiseptic description that has been in the papers. And the long and short of it is that Woodes Rogers is ruined. Fired from his job, disowned from his family, and, most importantly, the rich person version of penniless.

So he just doesn't have any resources to come after them, if he even suspected anything. And he'll be lucky if he doesn't end up in jail because apparently Eleanor's creative approach to accounting has been helping him evade taxes for a good long while as well. And now that he's too poor to be protected – and his reputation too tarnished – he's looking at the possibility of a five stretch.

Eleanor will probably avoid seeing the inside of a cell, mores the pity. She's too cunning to be taken down with her husband. But her social capital is destroyed, along with a good portion of her money, used to bail out Woodes Rogers with the various criminal elements he was indebted to. And with this new revelation of her less than legal exploits, it means that she's been let go from her position as well – not because she'd done anything they hadn't asked her to do for them, of course. But because they can't bear to have even a whiff of scandal or people might stop trusting in the sanctity of the British financial system. And we can't be having that.

At any rate, all of this means that Jack is able to move in the open again, which is good because he needs to start establishing himself as a quasi-legitimate member of polite society sooner rather than later. So that second month, in addition to playing tennis, Jack starts an Instagram account detailing the renovations on his house.

There's pictures of Jack choosing furniture and wallpaper and fabric swatches and rugs. There's pictures of the interior of the house, featuring Anne as Jack's PA, scowling and holding a clipboard menacingly. And Charles appears frequently as Jack's muse/boytoy, posed artfully shirtless and oiled up and muscular.

Mary, as his new social media manager, has had a lot of good ideas about how to sell Jack as a flirty and flighty and nearly terminally stupid fashion designer and she and Jack and Max have worked hard to make him appear harmless. Someone with money and influence but who was too wrapped up in pretty clothes and pretty boys to ever use it. Someone who could approach the counselor – and offer him valuable access into the upper echelons of society – without appearing threatening to him like Lord Hamilton had been.

And the bitch of it is is that it works.

Jack applies for and gets a membership to the councilor's exclusive health club – and the approval committee explicitly comments on the settee he'd had reupholstered in yellow silk for the upstairs sitting room in his induction hearing, so at least someone's looking at his Instagram. And he begins playing tennis there, familiarizing himself with the layout and the staff and the other patrons. So he can just ever so coincidentally grab the court opposite Councilor Featherstone during his weekly Saturday morning game.

They don't talk much during the game itself, but afterwards. Afterwards...

There's the usual handshakes and good games and shows of good sportsmanship from both sides. Jack had just narrowly, ever so narrowly, eked out a victory. But the councilor had more than made him work for it.

So Jack gets invited to a rematch next week – a rematch he'll make sure the councilor wins, just as narrowly. Because you've got to leave them wanting. You've got to leave them hungry for it. And they won't be if they win the first time. But they'll give up if they don't win the second and third. So you've got to walk that fine line of wins and losses until the whole thing's a habit and they couldn't walk away even if they wanted to.

That's what made Jack such a success as a pusher – not his product, but his approach. His way of knowing people. And the councilor is so very eager to be known.

Certainly he starts off with polite inquiries into how Jack's settling into London. Questions about the house and the neighborhood and the progress of the renovation.

But Jack is quick to talk about how difficult he's finding London to navigate, compared to the Bahamas, where they've decided he'll be from. How stand-offish people can be. How it feels like they snub him every time they hear him speak, or they find out that he doesn't know so-and-so from such-and-such school.

Oh, he doesn't come out and complain about it or anything. Just hints at it. Plants little seeds for Counselor Featherstone's own complaints to blossom forth.

And he has complaints aplenty. How it's such an Old School Chums crowd. How many incompetent idiots run various departments based on legacy rather than any actual ability. How put upon Featherstone is by all of them. How they all ask him for favors and expect to give nothing in return – because he should be overjoyed they're even deigning to talk to him and why wouldn't he want to do things for them, everyone wants to do things for them.

And Jack makes the appropriate noises of understanding and commiseration without actually volunteering very much about himself. Because that's the other half of the sell. Make the mark think that you're their friend. That they know you as well as they know themselves so they'll spill all the dark – or in Featherstone's case, mildly frustrated – parts of their soul. Make yourself their confidant, the one they can always turn to, because you think just alike on all the important points. So if you ever disagree, well, it must be my dear friend Jack in the right, he would never steer me wrong.

Of course, you can't do it all at once. It has to be done slowly and carefully, so that the mark never cottons on. But, as born out by Jack shaking Councilor Featherstone's sweaty hand and promising same time next week, he's certainly made a start on it. So that ought to make Max happy.

Jack wipes the sweat from his brow with an obscenely high threadcount towel provided by the club and goes off to assess Charles's progress on the other half of Max's request. Because while Jack has been honing his tennis game and scoping out the club, Charles has been there as well, spending mornings in the gym and afternoons sunbathing by the pool in the smallest bathing suit they'll allow him to wear. Which is quite small indeed. And it's therefore no surprise that Charles has accrued rather a crowd of rich bored socialites around his little flotilla of deck chairs, drawn like moths to a sexy, sexy flame.

Charles just dangerous enough to be interesting. But safe, because he's taken and (presumably) gay. Just a sexy backdrop to their boring, catty lives. Able to blend right into the scenery.

Meanwhile, Charles listens to - and dutifully recounts to Max – all the idle gossip he becomes privy to due to his position as living ornament. Because, to Max, information is worth its weight in gold. And you wouldn't believe what kind of things you can overhear simply by being ignorable.

Plus, Jack thinks as he sets his bag down next to Charles's deck chair and he looks up at Jack from behind his knock-off Coach sunglasses, Charles is having far, far too much fun playing Jack's boyfriend.

As evidenced by him sprawling his thighs even more obscenely open and practically purring, “Hello, darling.”

An obscene mockery of Jack's own favored greeting. And a slight that will not stand.

Jack kneels between Charles's spread legs. “Hello yourself, Chaz.” Jack tilts his chin up for a brief peck on the lips. “Have a good day, dear?”

Charles further escalates things by pulling Jack down onto his lap and nuzzling against his ear. “Better now that you're here, darling.”

And Jack's going to have to do something drastic if Charles keeps this shit up.

But before Jack can retaliate, escalate, they're interrupted by tittering laughter.

“Aren't they just the cutest?” one of the rich ladies coos.

There's general agreement amongst the ladies. “And so fashionable,” one of them says, giving Jack's tennis outfit a once-over.

“Perks of the job darling,” Jack says lightly.

And then one of them – the leader, if the obscene amount of designer and diamonds she's wearing – says, “You both simply must come to my bachelorette party.” She studies her nails faux casually. “It's going to be a real rager.”

This is exactly the kind of thing Charles has been waiting for since Max assigned him this stupid job. And getting on Max's good side is infinitely preferable to even her neutral regard. So Charles'll be damned if he lets it slip through his fingers  – even if he has to play some boring bitch's gay best friend for a whole night.

He tips his fruity umbrella drink in her direction and looks at her over the salted rim. “Sounds like my kind of party.”

Jack resigns himself to a night of drunken socialites vomiting in the back of a limo. “We'll be there, darling. Never fear.”

It'll be an opportunity to move some blow, if nothing else.

[jojosbizarreadventur]

Time’s Crusade: Chapter 3 (03)

also available on AO3 (under emih)

This chapter: A love-hate relationship with an Arrow, served with a side of flesh.

warning (just in case): canon-typical violence (it’s Dio for God’s sake)

Summary: Yesterday in 2011, your husband Noriaki and close friend Jotaro were both murdered together just months before your university graduations. The day before yesterday, you discovered that your nerve-wracking IUI procedure was successful. Two months before that day, said close friend made a proposition to the both of you due to your husband’s recently-discovered infertility.

Today in 1988, you’re over 20 years into the past of an alternate universe, suddenly tasked with trailing after different versions of your late husband and close friend as they travel with unfamiliar faces to Egypt, determined to confront the man you now work for.

And in the following days, you discover how easy it was for your sentiments to change.

03

The Wife of an Important Man, Part 1

November 1988 || Cairo, Egypt

It’s a little after midnight now. 

Vanilla Ice can tell when Lord Dio awakens to go about his night, based on the faint yet resonating sound of his footsteps down the halls, or even the various screams of pain and pleasure erupting from his chamber. Admittedly, there were times when even the long-haired man fantasized that he be the one to let out those screams, to experience the might of Lord Dio firsthand. 

He could only dream, however, as a mere servant.

Recently, Lord Dio had taken the time to feast on two French women simultaneously, but it hadn’t once occurred to him that they’ve already been here before. Vanilla Ice knows this— it wasn’t every day that he saw a woman with pink and black hair, or a woman with a terrifyingly hideous face. Strangely enough, they both bore slight silver stretch marks on their lower abdomens, though Vanilla Ice scoffed at the absurd thought he had right after.

He trained himself to remember everyone who steps onto and into the premises, including the ones who have willingly given their blood and bodies to the man that reigns over them… over him and every other lowly human in this very mansion.

Because during most nights and days, Vanilla Ice patrols the hallways. 

Actually, he insists that he be the one to do it. It’s very important. 

There’s been an influx of traitors recently, with many of them recklessly throwing accusations of low pay and terrible trade-offs— as if! These old henchmen were the same ones to calmly head inside the mansion and approach Lord Dio with murderous intent, not knowing that he’s a… night owl of some sort. 

Nevertheless, Vanilla Ice had always been successful in dealing with a good portion of them in such a clean fashion. He’s been grateful for his Stand, which had ensured the walls and floors to be spotless when he’d get rid of them. The rest of these traitors would either be handled by Pet Shop— the falcon that guards the outer gates— if they were unable to get inside, or Lord Dio himself if they somehow manage to get past the falcon and him.

To Vanilla Ice, at least, what he does around here is certainly more useful than what the other servants have been tasked to do inside. 

There was Kenny G, who literally only casts illusions to the mansion’s rooms when guests came over. He liked to work with the college-aged butler with the beehive hair and strange facial tattoos, who often played video games with him or asked him to cast illusions around the mansion just for ‘fun’. Vanilla Ice usually ignored him in particular, thinking that he should be back home getting drunk at college or fucking his girlfriend or something. He shouldn’t be here, messing around in a mansion as sacred as this one. 

Yet, Lord Dio himself still seemed to tolerate him, and Vanilla Ice had no clue as to why.

Then there was Nukesaku, the little shit who kept trailing after him and the others. Vanilla Ice couldn’t believe that someone as idiotic as him was a vampire like Lord Dio, but here he was being an absolute nuisance. It was insulting.

In fact, one of the rare traits that Vanilla Ice had in common with the others was the intolerance for Nukesaku’s presence, tasking him themselves to only do the janitorial work. Should he interfere with what they do, whether it may be Vanilla Ice patrolling or Kenny G and the butler playing that stupid baseball game (it sucks, by the way), they had no hesitation to end him right there and then—

—he’s already there at the source of the thud and crash… and the groan.

No one else had bothered to come down. 

Lord Dio was presumably still in his chambers at this time of night, though he knew the mansion inside out. Surely he’d be aware of an unwanted presence in his own house, even if he was stories up. Vanilla Ice scoffs— it’s no surprise that all of the other servants wouldn’t come down at a time like this. They clearly did not have the dedication that he, Vanilla Ice, had for their boss.

Vanilla Ice’s eyes dart around the living room, ready to use his void when he sees… her.

There’s a woman moaning and expelling coughs, but he knows it’s not one that has been with Lord Dio as he doesn’t recognize her voice. 

She’s on the cold, stony ground beside the embroidered sofa, arms trembling as she attempts to hold herself up. One arm proceeds to carry her upper body weight as best as it could as another reaches for her own throat. He isn’t sure what she’s trying to do; the general darkness of the room actually obscures most of her altogether, especially with the slit of moonlight refusing to shine anywhere near her. What he’s able to make out is some medium-sized lump, with one of its straps wrapped around her supporting arm. It’s most likely some sort of bag or backpack.

The heels of his boots click against the stone floor as he approaches her with caution. Even though her body continues to tremble and half-ass in supporting herself up, her head starts to tilt up at him. He isn’t able to see her face as her head suddenly dips, letting out a series of dry coughs again. Her body sways ever-so-slightly afterwards; her supporting arm shifts across the floor and causes the bag to move with it. Vanilla Ice swears he hears the jarring sound of broken metal hardware pieces.

This intruding woman is just hacking and coughing on the floors in front of him— who the hell is she? 

…how did she get past Pet Shop? 

…how did she get past him?  

…lastly, how did she get past Lord Dio?!

“[—Don’t kill her, Vanilla. She’s meant for Lord Dio.]”

Vanilla Ice freezes in his stance. The second he recognizes the other voice, he lets out an irritated sigh.

Right. He forgot to mention this piece of shit— servant. 

Of course.

He maintains a frown as he witnesses the man in the orange robing sauntering in from the small space between the tall bookcase and the stone wall. Vanilla Ice makes no effort to conceal his growl at the sight of the man blatantly pushing the bookcase aside to make room for himself as he enters. Sure, its placement could easily be fixed by Nukesaku later, but to disrespect Lord Dio’s belongings in such a fashion… 

Anyway, that doesn’t matter right now. Neither does the small, flat, and strange ‘flashlight’ that he had in one hand as he walked towards him. 

Vanilla Ice’s attention averts back to the woman who remained in her spot on the floor.

Who are you?

——

The man in the orange robing knows he’s already ticked him off by not using his full name, Vanilla Ice. He admits— for someone tasked for a generally-important job around the mansion, it seems like the guy’s just never satisfied.

Nonetheless, the long-haired man lets out a low chuckle at the sight of him.

“[Goodness, you’re back already?]” he sneered.

If there’s one thing that’s true, it’s that Vanilla Ice despised him the most. Initially, the man in the orange robing was oblivious to his hatred. He wasn’t aware that he’d have the talent of acquiring a dedicated hater so early on in his ‘career’, but once they were out of Lord Dio’s sight, Vanilla Ice ensured to display his contempt for him as much as possible.

Heels softly thudded against the stone floor as he approached the man with the orange robing, whose clothes shone from the small slit of moonlight in the room.

“[‘S not like she was hard to find],” he shamelessly confesses. The flat… flashlight continues to be twirled around in his hand, its projected light moving in a small circle. “[A park in Tokyo at night; very close to an area of a recent crime scene… heh. Doubt you’re going to find anyone willing to go near that place besides her.]”

“Her?”

The man in the orange robing tells Vanilla Ice your name. 

Yes— it didn’t happen at first, but he recognized you. He’s unsure about whether to tell you or not.

Vanilla Ice repeats your name, tone dripping with utter disgust. Whoever you were— he thought— you were the outcome, a product of Lord Dio’s growing preference for the man that stood before him… the man who should have no business with Lord Dio.

Nevertheless, he feels the need to pry. There’s no way in hell he’s letting the two of you stand before Lord Dio without any background, without any context to your sudden appearance in the mansion.

“Hm… where did you travel?”

Questions like these are a common occurrence; he isn’t stupid.

“Another dimension.”

Vanilla Ice grunts at his vague answer. He takes one glance at where you sat.

“How old is she?”

“Well, she was going to graduate university next March.”

“Oh, she’s quite young, then,” Vanilla Ice snidely comments, narrowing his eyes at the man with the orange robing.

The man with the orange robing turns away to roll his eyes at his colleague’s passive jab at him. He wasn’t even that young; hell, he’s actually older than you. He wasn’t even as young as the nerdy butler that got hired right before him, and he thinks you two are closer in age if not a year apart. In Vanilla Ice’s presence, it always seemed like some sort of covert dick measuring contest to see who had more worth around here in the mansion. At least Vanilla Ice was a lot closer to the mid-life crisis age than he was.

Sourly, the man with the orange robing replies, “I suppose.”

Vanilla Ice then asks with haste, “What is her business with Lord Dio?”

“That… I cannot tell you.”

He gave him a pointed look in response.

“It’s confidential,” the man hissed, abruptly stepping closer to his fellow servant. “If I spill info, and any word of our conversation spreads, I will know you’re the source. But obviously, Lord Dio will know that I revealed his objectives, and our heads will be displayed to rot.”

Vanilla Ice tsked. The man fumed.

“Of course you’d care about your own outcome,” he retorted, now eye-to-eye with the younger man. “You do this— all of this— to acquire riches and respect and reputation like all the other servants. You do not care about anything but yourself. You are not worthy of doing errands for Lord Dio— you are not worthy of being in his presence, you—!”

“—wh… wh— what…”

Both Vanilla Ice and the man whip their heads to you.

You’re finally starting to get up— shakily, at that. The backpack you hold almost falls out of your grasp, though you manage to grab it. Your attention currently isn’t on the two men in front of you. 

With a trembling hand, you slowly unzip the bag before distress contorted your face.

Everything that you knew was there remained, and— shit. Out of everything you didn’t want to be damaged, your laptop got fucked up beyond repair. Not only did it absorb the impact when you got thrown and tumbled into the room, but the textbook inside your backpack had also crushed it. You mean, you spent an extra shit-ton for the better processor, more RAM, and two SSDs— there’s no way in hell you wanted that to go waste—

—okay, not the point here. As long as you have other necessities such as your phone, it’s fine. You’re not sure why the laptop was the first thing you worried about.

“The journey wasn’t that bad, don’t you think?”

Your eyes shoot up to the speaker, the man in the orange robing. Seeing the strange flat flashlight in his hand— wait.

When did this fucker find the time to take your phone out of your backpack?

Gaping at him, you nearly drop said backpack again.

“Are… no, no, are you— fucking— kidding me?” you shout with a strained voice. His grasp on your neck had left quite the influence on your vocals.

The sight of this dark room of worn stone, the unlit fireplace, the walls covered with bookshelves (save for one, which was out of place), the… dated embroidered sofas with bullion skirts, the large imported Ghalitcheh-format rug beneath them, the… everything. You’re having a bit of a sensory overload— you don’t fail to quickly observe all of these sights, these… smells.

By the way, it smelled faintly of… 

Well, you start to wonder if there are any carcasses nearby. You resist the temptation to retch.

Your other hand travels down to your lower abdomen, quietly sighing in relief when you don’t feel any pangs of pain or discomfort there.

They’re fine.

But… you’re not. No, you’re… somewhere— you haven’t a clue where— and not of your own free will. You’ve been forcefully dragged through the space of a goddamn hedge and tree trunk and now you’re here. You stand before the American man— the man in the orange robing with his stupid crotch-high boots— but it’s not like the other guy looks any better. The guy’s wearing a blue leotard under a black waistcoat, you mean, come on.

“Where— where am I? Tell me, where am I?” you now demanded, facing them directly. You step forward— into the moonlight’s luminescence from the open slit— and it’s the first time Vanilla Ice sees your face. At the very least, he thinks you’re better looking than that hideous French feast of Lord Dio’s.

The man in the orange robing says as if it’s obvious, “Egypt.”

Already knowing that you would like your phone back, he simply places it in an inner pocket of his robe. Okay, you’re not sure what it takes to get your phone back from him unless you want to die, so you reluctantly put that aside for now. What you focus on is that single response.

Egypt.

And you’re sorry, but what?

The transcontinental country simultaneously located on the corners of Africa and Asia… Egypt. 

Egypt… where a revolution had happened months ago— there was coverage about it on NHK World that time. 

A place that is, geographically, not Japan. Which is where you actually live, and have been living in for nearly seven years— not Egypt.

“...what?”

He rolled his eyes. “You heard me the first—”

“—no shit I heard you,” you interject, scowling at him. You began to collect your thoughts as you continued speaking— babbling, really. “What— what do you mean I’m in Egypt? Why am I in Egypt? There… the… there’s no reason I… husband said… parliamentary elections…  what the hell…”

Late husband.

You conveniently forget that last string of thought.

Vanilla Ice blinked at you. “What?”

You turn to the towering man, briefly astounded by his sheer height. Who was this? Was he a part of this plan too? What was this plan, anyway?

“What do you mean ‘what’? I mean, if you’re here in Egypt, I figured you’d know what’s going on in the country you live in… didn’t you all have a constitutional referendum back in March and everything? Or is this not really Egypt, and you all are just screwing with me?”

Noriaki visited the country with his family some years ago. The topic of international travel always induced him to bring up that trip— he used to point out how memorable it was for him. So of course, he’d take the time to know what’s happening in a place that he associated with good memories. And then proceeded to tell you everything he found out.

Suddenly, you were snapped out of your reminiscing when Vanilla Ice responded to you in a tactless manner.

“What in the actual hell are you talking about? Egypt has not had a constitutional referendum since 1980. That was eight years ago.” He resorts to facing the man in the orange robing, who had his arms crossed over his chest. “Pray tell, why is this woman reserved for Lord Dio? She is as dumb as a post.”

…1980.

“Are you describing yourself? I told you, Vanilla, it’s confidential.”

That was eight years ago.

“I assume you’re only saying that to get me off your back and leave you be. Let me tell you—”

You turn away from them.

“A little over 77% of people voted ‘yes’ on the constitutional referendum. That’s over 14 million voters.”

“Oh, seriously? When did these results come out?”

“Eh… on Saturday, the 19th. They haven’t had a referendum since 2007, the year my parents and I visited for summer break.”

Luckily, you would remember most— if not all— of what Noriaki tells you.

“—you’re lying,” you denounced, facing Vanilla Ice again.

He deadpanned. “I, Vanilla Ice, can tell when people don’t make any use of their brains—”

“—that’s ironic—” the man in the orange robing grumbled.

“—no! You’re a goddamn liar! Egypt had a constitutional referendum this year, eight months ago— not years ago,” you snapped, stomping your foot in front of the long-haired man. “What type of shit are you trying to pull?”

“I hardly understand you in—” Vanilla Ice countered, glaring down at you.

Abruptly, he pauses. His magenta eyes avert from you to the man in the orange robing, who only donned a look of suspicion for his fellow servant.

“Does she not… know?”

What do you not know?

Your eyes dart back and forth from Vanilla Ice to the man in the orange robing. It occurs to you both that he’s been staying unusually silent during this conversation.

“Know what?” you asked slowly, though your glare at the man in the orange robing doesn’t do much.

To Vanilla Ice, the lack of explanation only comes off as incompetence. Or perhaps, was he keeping his motives a secret from you especially? In order to have the ‘suspicion’ reach a crescendo?

Oh, hoh. If anything, his ‘task’ sounds like a shitshow waiting to occur. Vanilla Ice mentally notes to ensure his own presence when it happens.

The man gives him a pointed look, which is enough of a response.

“This woman is your responsibility,” is all Vanilla Ice says as a reminder before he steps back and storms away, heels loudly clicking against the hard floor. 

It starts to become obnoxious after the first few steps. 

You don’t even consider what you do next. The man beside you only stands in his spot, scowling at Vanilla Ice’s back as he walked and walked and walked.

Because of his long legs, he’s able to extend his distance from you and the man in the orange robing even further, but you could hardly care less. You begin to go after him— backpack on your back again— and you’re close to him, you’re ready to pull at his large-muscled arm, you’re going to interrogate and demand answers from him because there’s no way the orange-robed guy is telling you anything—

“Do not follow me.”

Vanilla Ice abruptly turns around to face you once you catch up to him. He’s already standing in the vast corridor, a large runner rug beneath his boots. You freeze in your stance— he’s still tall and a bit terrifying— but you know you can do this. It’s not like you have any other person to resort to speaking with. What’s the worst that could happen?

He glares down at you.

“Did you not use your ears either when I said that you were his responsibility? If you were mine, there wouldn’t be anymore left of you to approach me in the first place.”

“But, I just…” you trail off, turning your head to see smoke slowly wafting towards the both of you. Strangely enough, you couldn’t smell it. “I need…”

Vanilla Ice tsks at you.

“I don’t have time for this—”

“—I need you to explain all of this to me!” you bellow at him. “What the hell is going on?!”

Stepping towards you, your breath hitches at the sudden proximity with him. He’s still glaring down at you, and it only occurs to you now that you’ve rightfully pissed him off. So… now what? 

As you thought earlier while you were still in Japan, were you going to die tonight? Not by the man in the orange robing as you assumed, no, but by Vanilla Ice? What was he going to do to you? You can’t call for help because someone stole your phone, you can’t run to anyone because you don’t know anyone here, so what…?

He turns around in a way that makes you get a face-full of his hair. Dumbfounded, you find yourself practically rooted into the runner rug as you stare at him. Vanilla Ice gives you one more sour glance before he disappears.

You don’t see him at the end of the corridor or anything. He hasn’t opened a door and left. As far as you know, there aren’t any secret openings that you can see.

He’s just… gone.

For some reason, each line of smoke seems to split into two as soon as it reaches the area in front of you, though the lines vaguely reconnect and drift in your direction. It’s as if there’s some obstacle before you, but it’s invisible. When your eyes glance downward and upward, you realize that the obstacle has to be floating. The smoke beneath and over it traveled normally.

There has to be something there, but you can’t see it. Your brows furrow, continuing to watch the ‘sight’ in front of you for signs of movement or of Vanilla Ice. Nothing. You felt cold all of a sudden, but nothing else.

Then, without thinking, you decide to step forward and reach out to… it.

It only occurs to you afterwards that that was a shit idea.

Out of nowhere, you abruptly find Vanilla Ice’s glaring expression open up out of the nothingness, and only that. It’s as if the rest of his head and body are covered by some invisibility cloak, because you literally only see his face. You yelp, you hurriedly move in a fashion that nearly makes you trip, your heart starts to palpitate—

—and you feel yourself being yanked by the forearm.

As if he had gotten caught, the view of Vanilla Ice’s face had shut again and vanished. In the corridor stood you, and now the man whose grip you vaguely recognize. The drifting smoke returned to normal.

“No,” the man in the orange robing bluntly tells you as you tumble backward. “You think I’d let you get out of this so easily? You think Lord Dio would allow that?” 

…who?

You’re struggling to get away.

“Let me go—!”

“—he’d have my head, and he already has loads of donations, so please … just wait patiently— you are not going to commit suicide! You are not going to die in my supervision!”

Giving up on your search for the disappeared Vanilla Ice, you manage to jerk your arm out of the man’s grasp. As you take deep breaths, you scowl up at the man that resorts to crossing his arms over his chest.

“Wh— who is ‘Lord Dio’? What did that guy mean by ‘1980’? Where the hell did he go? Why am I in Egypt— you never even answered me!”

The man in the orange robing irritatedly sighed.

“…I have no obligation to tell you.”

Is he serious—

“But I know that you will pester me. That’ll disrupt my concentration, and if I end up doing anything out of line because of that, we both die. I’ll answer all of your questions, provided you don’t try to leave.”

He never promised that you wouldn’t get harmed or die.

You frowned, unsure of how to feel about this. “I… wasn’t trying to leave— I don’t know where or how to leave anyway. Nor was I trying to commit suicide like you suggested for… some reason. I was just trying to talk to him because I thought you weren’t going to tell me anything.”

Calming down, you realize that you might have a chance of leaving all of this behind alive if you cooperate with this. Said chance might be slim, but you hope that there’s a sliver of sympathy from him. Maybe this was just some huge misunderstanding.

These thoughts were only a foul attempt at making yourself feel better. 

There’s still a better chance that you’ll die than live to get the hell out of here. At this point you were still wondering what you’ve done in your lifetime for something like all of this to happen to you. Everything you’ve done so far since you’ve been thrown into this place was done out of tiredness and desperation, even what you decide to do next.

He sighed.

“What Vanilla Ice used is called a Stand. It’s a physical manifestation of a person’s ‘life energy’ or ‘fighting spirit’,” the man explained first. He gestured for you to return to the room with the dated embroidered sofas. “Thing is… you couldn’t see him use it because you’re not a Stand user… you don’t have a Stand.”

Actually, forget if you were going to die tonight.

You’re probably already dead based on his bizarre explanations. There’s no way any of it is real.

——

It’s as if you’ve taken a freezer bag full of psilocybin mushrooms before having this conversation with the man, and that stuff’s not even legal back in Japan.

Nevertheless, you try to tolerate his presence as you both sit crisscrossed on the Ghalitcheh-format rug.

“You came from a dimension where Stands were shamed,” the man with the orange robing revealed. “Every method of obtaining a Stand later in life was damaged and disposed of as a result. The only remaining way to receive a Stand was through genealogy, but even then, the ability was treated as a mutation, a disease.”

According to the man, you’ve apparently traveled to a different universe as a result of his Stand. If you were a… Stand user… you would’ve been able to see the ‘pathway’ between yours and this one. It was more of a blink-and-you-miss-it trip to you.

Oh, and when Vanilla Ice said ‘1980’ being eight years ago? He also wasn’t kidding. This universe was 23 goddamn years into the past compared to yours. You weren’t even born yet. The specificity of traveling to 1988, however, wasn’t explained any further. Said he was under Lord Dio’s orders.

‘Lord Dio’ was apparently a man that he and Vanilla Ice worked for. Reportedly, he never went out during the day, so his ‘servants’ ended up doing a portion of the less-important work when the sun was up. Nighttime was a different story, the man in the orange robing commented, as Dio would partake in tasks he thought was only fit for himself. This included going through rounds of ‘candidates’, either sexually or murderously. 

You didn’t need that last detail. The last thing you wanted was to imagine his faceless, godlike (his words) boss pounding into someone before torturing them.

“Now, I need to tell you this,” he starts, staring into your eyes. You realize that his eyes are dark blue. “But if you react negatively in any way— as in attacking me verbally or physically— I’ll divert from my task’s objectives and beat you to death and, subsequently, risk my own life. But I can get out easily. So‘s your call, really.”

You deadpanned. “I’ll try not to. And… and what is your ‘task’, exactly, I’d like to know—”

“—your husband, Noriaki Kakyoin, was born with the ability to use a Stand.”

…what?

“No,” you immediately deny, brows creasing. For some reason, you don’t question how or why he knew about your husband. “You can’t be serious.”

“I am,” he insisted, resting his elbows on his knees. How he managed to sit crisscrossed with his crotch-high boots was a mystery to you. “You’re not a Stand user, so it’s not like you’d be able to know.”

Frowning, you argue, “Well, yeah. But… but, I mean… he would tell me. He’d tell me that he’d have one. He wouldn’t keep… we made a promise…”

“It’s practically a death wish to have a Stand in your dimension,” he reminded impatiently, though it didn’t curb your confusion. “Also, your friend, Jotaro Kujo, had one as well. We Stand users tend to be familiar of other users, and in my case, even the ones who are in different dimensions.”

You didn’t know any of this.

To be honest, Noriaki and Jotaro did an excellent job hiding that aspect of them then. You hadn’t suspected anything different— they just seemed so… normal. If anyone else there had known that they had ‘Stands’, then they might’ve thought the same. Those two were the least expected people to possess something so otherworldly.

And you met and knew both of them.

You start to wonder if they made some pact to never tell you. Granted, they must’ve decided on something of the sort since they became friends in high school, vowing to never tell another soul about it for fear of ridicule. Especially considering how close you got with Noriaki and… well, what happened, it was definitely a secret that he took to the grave. Despite both of you promising to be transparent with one another after the first fertility clinic visit months ago, you didn’t feel upset or betrayed in the slightest anymore. He didn’t have a choice. He didn’t choose to have a ‘Stand’.

In the meantime, the man in the orange robing was sitting in contemplation. His eyes were focused on some corner of the room. Once he spoke up, you got snapped out your thoughts.

“What has started to preoccupy my thoughts is your predisposition to being in proximity with a Stand user,” he disclosed, crossing his arms over his chest. He then proceeded to lean forward to you, causing you to lean back with a sheepish face. “Meeting one Stand user is one thing, but… meeting two is a whole ‘nother can of worms you haven’t exactly opened yet.”

You blink at him. “So what if I meet… two ‘Stand users’? Why does it matter?”

The man in the orange robing abruptly straightens his back, hands resting on his knees.

“Because,” he stressed. “Back in 2011 in your dimension, there’s roughly seven billion people living on Earth. Here in 1988, it’s only a little over five billion— two billion less— but even in both populations, the likeliness of a non-Stand user getting pulled into a Stand user’s mess is rather slim… and I don’t mean as a mere casualty. No, it’s more complex than that.”

“Mess…?” you repeat, trailing off with a raised brow.

“Yes— mess,” he confirms. “It can be difficult to live a quiet life as a Stand user, because there will always be another user inexplicably attracted to any Stand-related predicament of ours. I’m not aware of any coherent reason; it’s just how our fates work. We’re bound to get into a little trouble from time to time.”

You scratch the back of your neck.

That could be another reason why Noriaki never told you about having a Stand.

“Anyhow, you would think there’s no reason for you— a non-Stand user— to be pulled into… this, right?” he inquired, now staring at you again. “Involving two Stand users, then… me, another Stand user, making three.”

“Maybe it’s just a weird coincidence,” you challenged. Honestly, this guy was about to go lengths to mind-fuck you with whatever he’s spewing at you right now.

Immediately, he shakes his head as he chuckles. He looked a little too pleased with himself, and you didn’t know whether to be worried or not.

“As far as I know, there are no coincidences with Stand users.”

His words eventually sink in.

You stiffen.

Time came to a standstill as you stared at him, dumbfounded.

Is… 

Is he insinuating what you think he is?

“In 2011, I was traveling to Tokyo to… uh, see someone. I don’t go to Tokyo often, so I actually got lost afterward. However, while I was there… there was something in me that compelled me to traverse a particular route, even if it initially made no sense for me to go there. That particular route… lead me to you, in front of the apartment complex.”

There’s no way.

You scoff in disbelief.

“Last time I checked, I’m clearly not a… ‘Stand user’,” you say with a deadpan expression. “I don’t have one, like you said. You told me that you had one, Noriaki had one, Jotaro had one, and… I don’t. I can’t see yours and couldn’t see theirs. I don’t even know what a Stand is supposed to look like, I—”

“—no shit, I know you’re not a Stand user,” the man interjects, narrowing his eyes at you. “At least… not yet.”

“…not yet,” you flatly repeat.

“Not yet,” he reassures.

That’s all he says.

“But, why… ‘not yet’?” you ask.

Before he could respond— probably with something vague— he’s interrupted.

Out of the blue, a new male voice echoed off the walls and floors.

“You did not inform me that the woman with the Joestar child had no Stand.”

Joestar?

The man and you lock eyes for a moment. You swear you see a hint of fear in him, considering how his pupils dilate. Though, you could also feel your heartbeat getting faster for some reason.

Your brows furrow and your eyes dart around, trying to find the owner of the voice.

Shooting up from the floor, the man smooths out wrinkles from his robe and fixes the top hem of his crotch-high boots.

“I didn’t think her lack of a Stand was relevant,” the man in the orange robing admitted with partial confidence as he fixed himself.

The new voice let out a low hum.

“If I’m not mistaken, the father of the child had a Stand, correct?”

…uh, last time you checked, you were not showing at all. How did they even…

The man in the orange robing glances at you before responding, seemingly talking to the air.

“Yes, that counterpart of Jonathan Joestar’s great-great-grandson had a Stand, though it seems to be genetic. I don’t believe he got it by… any other means.”

You don't recognize the name.

“I see. You shall see yourself being rewarded within the next day or so, Piper.”

Hm.

So that’s his name.

“Kenny G already prepared the place. Escort her.”

After he gestured for you to stand up, you did as you were instructed. The sound of your broken laptop continued to clink and screech in your backpack as you walked out of the living room with him. You both return to the corridor, where you both stand on the runner rug once again. It’s strange to think that about an hour ago, Vanilla Ice’s Stand would’ve consumed you right here. You weren’t given any description as to what his Stand looked like, so that was going to be a missing piece of information in your memories.

“So,” you start, raising a brow at the man beside you. “Uh, where are we go—”

—the end of the corridor.

The aged stone walls are now directly in front of you two, and two sets of high double doors were on the left and right. 

You slowly blink in confusion; you turn around to see meticulously-carved archway entrance to that room with the embroidered sofas. 

That was all the way on the other end of the corridor. Though, it quickly became obscured by the recurring wafts of scentless smoke, and you couldn’t see it anymore.

It’s as if you’ve been teleported to a different part of the mansion. You blink and poof— you’re not in that end of the corridor. You’re on the other side.

Piper rubbed his face with one hand before tapping your shoulder. You returned to face him, which at that point he stepped towards the double doors on the left. He stares at you with an expression you can’t exactly pinpoint, but you follow him.

“This may or may not be the last time I see you,” he says, pursing his lips.

You donned a look of puzzlement. What did he mean by—

—again, he abruptly opens one of the double doors, shoving you through the space once again.

Fuming, you realize that you had almost forgotten that he did that to you when bringing you here. Hell, if you were insane enough, maybe you would’ve forgiven him as well.

Abruptly, you turn around to face the now-white door to bang your fist on it several times. The dark handleset door knob was no longer there; instead, it was a silver lever door knob. Much higher than the key lock was a door chain, also both silver. When you ‘knocked’, Piper never answered. You tried to unlock the door, but it was as if it was locked from the outside. The door chain just seemed redundant if that was the case.

The walls beside the door were white too. Beside your shoes is a small weave basket filled with house slippers. The flooring beneath that and your feet reminds you of a genkan, despite your location. But… it looked like yours.

Furrowing your brows, you turn around.

Holy shit.

You’re back at your apartment.

Narrowing your eyes at the familiar place— which was oddly clean, considering Friday— you take the time to see if this is really your place. Taking off your boots, you head into the cramped semi-open kitchen on the left. The cabinets and drawers are all the same style and placement as you remembered. Hell, even all of the appliances were the same.

Once you look past the open wall, you jolt backwards in shock. Your backpack nearly hits the back of the counter as your heart pounds.

Sitting at the round glass top table was a blond burly man. His sharp golden eyes locked with yours; a hint of fascination was in his look. Back straight against the chair, he continued to watch you as you slowly exited out of the kitchen and walked over to the dining table. There in the center was a crystal ball, though the small potted houseplant that was once there was now moved to sit on the floor beside his bare feet.

“Please, you must sit,” the blond man offers to you, gesturing to the chair across from him.

It’s the same voice as before.

Could he be…?

Eyeing him in suspicion, you pull out the chair and sit after taking off your backpack. He continues to stare at you, though you start to become a little uncomfortable. Not only by his eyes— which seem to never leave you— but by the fact that he’s also shirtless. Every muscle on his body seems to be bulging; you didn’t think that it’d be possible to get this muscular, but here he is. Luckily, he still had his pants on, which were golden with unused green suspenders.

His ridiculously long legs nearly intertwine with yours under the table. You notice the somewhat-faded scar that circled around his throat.

“I give my utmost sympathy to you,” he starts, expression softening. “I imagine that you are not coping well since becoming a widow, correct?”

Your brows furrow. 

How did he know that too? What the fuck?

You feel the need to ask, but there's a part of you that thinks that it's a bad idea to do so. So you don't, as much as you want to.

“Before you assume otherwise, Piper had been the one to inform me of such matters. I take it that you are… aware of his abilities?”

“Uh, yeah,” you say offhandedly. “The dimension-hopping, the… ‘knowing-about-other-Stand-users’ thing. I guess that explains how you knew my… status, and all.”

“Yes.”

For a moment, you both continue to stare at one another. Neither of you say anything.

You clear your throat in awkwardness. 

In response, he lets out a low hum.

“You’re… Dio, aren’t you? ‘Lord Dio’, as Piper calls you?”

Dio nods.

“Okay, anyway, um… what’s with the crystal ball? It’s just been sitting here, and uh, well… you moved my plant.”

He tittered.

“What your heart desires will appear here,” Dio says, gesturing to the crystal ball that sat before the both of you. His large, oddly smooth hand hovers over the sphere for an unusual amount of time, and you feel the hairs at the back of your neck stand up. There’s a look of uncertainty plastered on your face; you’re not really getting the purpose of him… showing what you ‘desire’. But there’s one thing you ask yourself.

Would… would your husband appear?

Inside the crystal ball was only fog for a few seconds. There wasn’t any distinct shape— it kept twisting and twisting and you lean forward in anticipation. Your eyes continue to watch the crystal ball, and they continue to do so until you start to make out an eerily familiar sight. Your breath hitches.

Noriaki, now alive and well, appears in the lens of the sphere as hypothesized.

He’s radiant as you remembered him, cherry earrings shimmering from the light he stood under. The second he turned around, a wide smile was plastered on his face. It’s as if you lock eyes with him again, his lavender-grey eyes glinting and its outer corners crinkling. From the neck down he seemed to be nude, but that was the least of your worries. You watch him bring a hand up to his red hair to comb the voluminous side bang.

It suddenly occurs to you that this is the last time that you’ll ‘see’ him, but yes, you desperately wanted him alive again. There’s a part of you that wanted you to disregard all of this, to think that this was just an intricately gruesome nightmare all along. You wanted to deny the fact that your husband would no longer stand beside you, and only now does it really and fully sink in. 

You will never see him again. 

You will be alone.

You felt the sting of your eyes starting to water.

Dio had been watching you the entire time with creased brows. He asks with a gentle tone, “Do you see… him?”

Silently nodding, you wipe your eyes with your sleeve. His hand— the one not hovering over the crystal ball— now resorted to holding your other hand, his thumb lightly brushing your skin. His golden eyes lock with yours as you look up at him; you see his sadness, his sympathy. Though you haven’t known him for very long, you somewhat appreciate his unorthodox form of consolation. Dio must’ve known deep down that you desired Noriaki’s return some amount of time before you did. There was a part of you that started to feel useless for not noticing from the get-go.

“You are a woman burdened with grief,” he whispered, calmly lifting a hand in between you two. The sight of Noriaki in the crystal ball immediately disappeared like mist. “It would be inconvenient for you to live the remainder of your life without meaningful direction.”

Yeah, it does seem pretty inconvenient… 

Dio’s eyes briefly avert from yours; in fact, he turns his head to the corner of the apartment, to the window beside the television. You’re not sure what he was trying to look at.

His hand seems to be reaching for your face now. Was he… going to stroke your cheek or something? Honestly, that’s a little weird—

—gah—!

Dio decided to go for a more… direct approach.

Everything during and after this happens so quick you can barely comprehend what’s happening.

First of all— what the hell— his fingers dart to your forehead, and the second you feel your skin being stabbed through by the tips of his fingers, you scream. It’s like needles, yes, it’s a small bundle of godawful needle-like things that pierce directly into the layers of your skin down to your skull and what—

—you scream even louder, and your hands immediately move up to grab onto Dio’s forearm. His fingers don’t budge; it’s as if they’re cemented onto your forehead, and you feel like you’re going to pass out from the intrusive pain that he unleashes. As you attempt to pull his arm away, your fingernails create deep scratches into his otherwise flawless skin. You see the skin swell up directly under the scratches as his blood starts to spill out of the thin slits. The feeling of light-headedness starts to surge through you, and you feel the slow ooze of blood from your forehead down the bridge of your nose.

What… what is he doing?!

You have to resort to your other senses, which in that case you hear footsteps rushing away and slamming the ‘bathroom’ door.

Out of nowhere, everything starts to fall. 

The white walls of your apartment are slowly eaten by the dark walls of the mansion, the brown hardwood floor beneath you vanishing piece by piece in replacement of the stone floor. The windows slowly disintegrate and no longer are you or Dio being illuminated by the fake light ‘outside’. The two sofas, the television, the coffee table, the rug, and the rack of video games all disappear from the living room. The glass-top dining table and wooden chairs beside it transition into the cracked wooden table and cushioned high-back chairs— you feel it, in fact— yet the crystal ball remains. That’s all that remains, and you remember where you are again. Everything had been an illusion.

In your peripheral vision you see… flesh-colored tentacles of some sort. One of your hands reaches up to your forehead in an attempt to grab it, but your hand is struck and smacked. No, not by Dio, but by the tentacle-thing itself— its attack creates a thin slice on your hand, the sound of you gasping at the cut and the slow rush of blood makes Dio simper. The tentacles return to where your skull had been practically drilled in, swiftly rushing through your head like a series of mini bullet-trains.

His fingers continue to hold onto your forehead, restricting any possible movement. You can’t even move your own legs to kick at him or get up or anything . It’s as if you’ve lost all feeling to the lower half of your body— you’re stuck. You’re stuck for heaven’s sake. Your eyes are wide, helplessly darting from the high ceiling to the walls to the floor to Dio and his too-satisfied smirk to… the corner of the room.

One of your senses still works, at least.

You hear quiet footsteps.

At a distance behind Dio was a short elderly woman, face embedded with wrinkles. She’s approaching slowly, though this might be due to her old age. Your body remains paralyzed as your eyes attempt to focus on her.

Who is she?

Was she part of this too?

“You are fortunate to be in the worldly presence of Lord Dio,” the old woman compliments, sadism seeping from her voice. “If potential is what he sees in you, then as his most loyal servant, I must take his beliefs to heart. Hehe! As such, there has been a change in plans.”

...potential?

“You will be thankful for I, Enya Geil, for this, should you live.”

Your face contorted in anger— what the hell did she mean by that? What the hell did you get roped into? Why—

The sight of her expertly drawing a Bow and Arrow in your direction made you squirm, but Dio’s hold on your head restricted all other movement. You wanted to scream, swear, shriek but goddamn for some reason you couldn’t bring yourself to do so, it’s like Dio was controlling your mind and controlling every one of your thoughts and words and processes and… and… 

Before you realize it, you got thrown back, the chair you sat in toppling over with you.

Lord Dio’s fingers were no longer cemented into your forehead, but you were on the floor. The back of your head is throbbing from the sudden impact with the stone.

You’re… choking.

Holy fucking shit — did… oh my fucking God…

The fletchings of the Arrow is all you can see, but barely.

You feel the searing, sharp pain of the Arrow’s head stabbed into the start of your trachea— your neck, it’s paralyzed— you’re paralyzed even more— though you’re not sure if it’s the nerves getting hit or your emotional shock from being hit with the projectile. There’s no way your desperate need to scream again is getting fulfilled anytime soon.

The Arrow’s intrusion causes your gag reflex to trigger, but it’s lodged well into your throat. You feel a long vertical cut on your tongue and on the roof of your mouth from the Arrow’s intricately-carved head— you hack up blood, the warm and metallic-tasting liquid splattering and dripping down your mouth and chin due to its short trajectory. Tears start to build up and flow down your cheeks with little effort. You’re getting blinded and the darkness of the room isn’t helping one bit.

This old bitch fucking shot you. 

You mean… who in their right mind decides to shoot someone in the fucking throat with a Bow and Arrow out of nowhere? Why did Lord Dio not react like a normal person? No shock, no attempt to help, he’s just… watching you slowly bleed to death. His chair screeches as he slides it back to stand up. Your blood continues to spurt and drip, staining the Arrow’s head and that half of the shaft. Beside you on the floor is your backpack, still containing the broken laptop parts. The hardware’s edges through your barely-durable bag start to make marks on your legs. You’re waiting, you’re waiting… you’re waiting for the onset of death, for your eyes to stop darting around, for your head and arms and legs to stop slightly twitching, for your heartbeat to come to an end.

…either dying is taking up much more time that you expected or… you don’t know. But you’re not getting dead for some reason.

Suddenly, you feel the upper half of your body being hoisted up from the floor.

With one of his large, smooth hands, Lord Dio firmly grabs the side of your face and keeps it still. Your pupils shift to see the alabaster skin the best you could in your position; his thumb is right under your lower eyelid, fingers buried in your scalp. His hand is surprisingly cold.

Then, with the other hand, he wraps his fingers around the Arrow’s shaft. 

He tugs.

A wheezed scream erupts out of your vocal cords. Your body tenses up at the feeling of Lord Dio trying to pull the Arrow out of your throat. You feel the cuts on the roof of your mouth and your tongue getting deeper— it’s like he’s trying to make the slashes worse. Yet, your body continues to betray you. You still can’t move. What he does is hurting you, fuck, why is he struggling, why is it taking Lord Dio so long to pull a fucking Arrow out of your throat, you mean, he has the muscle, he should have the capability to do so… goddamn he is taking way too long to pull this piece of shit out of your throat and… and you know what? 

You know what?

An… android’s hand… forcefully grabs onto the shaft of the Arrow, aiding Lord Dio in the effort of pulling. Once he successfully yanks it from your throat, he steps back, grasping onto the Arrow as he stared down at you with wide eyes. There’s a genuine look of surprise on his face as he watched you fall forward. As you fall, you see Enya with the Bow, you see the table with the crystal ball, you see Lord Dio’s long legs, you see the floor, you’re ready to smash your face into the stone.

But you don’t.

You hear the clank of metal. You feel your limbs— your entire body— enveloped with the metallic material. Your clothes are no longer on your body, and it’s as if they weren’t under the metal either.

Their voices become mumbles to you as you continue to rest face-down on the stone floor, unable to move your body. You can’t bring a hand to your lower abdomen to hold in a motherly fashion. During that whole situation, it just seemed like you’ve lost all strength. Were you ever going to be able to move again? Did they just incapacitate you? What… what exactly have you done to deserve this?

If only Noriaki could see what was happening to you.

“She…  wears  her Stand?”

——

[STAND NAME]

???

[STAND MASTER]

You

——

--> To Be Continued -->

Up Next: Plane tickets, Polaroid photos, and yours & Jotaro's response to Noriaki's infertility.

Link to the Table of Contents

[fivegoldpieces]

Talks Machina at Gen-Con Q&A Highlights

Note: This only has the audience q&a portion. Cast answers are transcribed, side-comments and banter are only included if they are relevant to/answer the question posed. Apologies in advance to mobile-users if the read-more doesn't work - this is tagged as #long post if you want to blacklist it.

[[MORE]]

Q: For Matt; might we expect any possible homebrew releases coming out in the next year or so, like dunamancy?

Matt: I have plans. I can't say anything because I want things to be cool and surprising. But I have plans don't worry. It's not that I don't care, it's that I don't have time, but I'm working on it.

Q: For Taliesin; what would make Caduceus really angry?

Taliesin: I will say that he can get angry. It does happen. Juvenile disrespect does eventually get to him. Not a fan of pranking. I mean, you know, everybody's got some layer - there's some stuff. No one's that serene all the time. No one.

Q: For Taliesin; at the end of the Call of Cthulhu oneshot, you mentioned that you had a lot of mouse traps set up. I was just wondering, were the shadow people the most dangerous thing they could've released, or was there a more dangerous horror waiting that they managed to avoid?

Taliesin: I mean, if the cats had been released first, that would have definitely been an interesting thing. The cats would have been a problem. Also, if somebody had died really early, I was setting up a series of rules for dead players to continue to interact, which would have been really really unhappy and bad. And terrible rules for the things that were living behind the glass, and if you were stuck behind the glass, you were right there with them and they could really mess with you. Thankfully none of that happened.

Q: For Matt; you have the Tal'dorei Campaign Setting - I was wondering if you were going to do one for The Mighty Nein campaign?

Matt: I don't have a lot of time. Campaign settings are extensive. I'd like to eventually do something like that. I have materials, it's just assembling them in a way that can be legible by a non-crazy human being that I am. Hopefully! We'll see as time goes on. At the moment, we're consumed with this animated series that you guys helped make happen. Super excited about that. Keep an eye out as time goes on, because hopefully I'd like to get around to that. That'd be awesome.

Q: For Matt; what the hell was up with the undead vibe on Jamedi Cosko?

Matt: Yeah, that's crazy huh? That's a pretty weird thing. Yeah, there was something about him that gives off an undead vibe. Wonder what that means? I appreciate the question, but I don't know if that'll come back into play in some time. Let's see if it gets explored at some point, and if not at least I could tell you at the campaign wrap-up.

Q: For Travis; for the animated series, a lot of the characters have iconic catchphrases so I was wondering how you're going to translate "I would like to rage"?

Travis: Are we going to "translate" that? I think he's just going to say "I would like to rage". Yeah, we are definitely keeping iconic lines, moments, interactions, all those things will be there just as they were.

Taliesin: I'll also add to that - if you want to see somebody doing that and taking things that shouldn't actually work in-game and making them work in-game, Jody Houser is doing a great job in the comic book series of making you feel like somehow Matt is intertwined in everything that happens, it's kind of cool. Check it out!

Q: For Taliesin; a lot of comparisons have been thrown around between Fjord and Percy, and something that I noticed was Uk'otoa is being much more insistent than Orthax was - do you think if Orthax was as insistent and as keen on punishment, Percy might've gone a similar direction as Fjord?

Taliesin: Honest to God, and this is just from watching, I don't think Percy had nearly as strong a will as Fjord does. Watching Travis play Fjord was definitely like, "I did not have the balls to pull that off, oh my God." Percy was never about the hard choice, it was always about "what's the option C that I haven't figured out yet, there's a way to game my way out of this, if I just keep talking I can get everything to work" until the very end. Like chicken? Percy doesn't play chicken.

Laura (using Vex's voice): From firsthand knowledge, Percy does curtail very easily.

Matt: If you actually recall, Percy didn't even make the choice. Scanlan did for him.

Q: For Laura; when can we get a Caduceus tea set?

Laura: Oh, I heard a lot of "ooh's". Who would buy a Caduceus tea set? [audience applause] Well, shit, maybe I should look into it.

Sam: That's so many more people than who voted for me.

Brian: Not to be That Guy, lets just see how long his character lives, before we start making merchandise around him.

Q: For Sam; you are kind of the king of over-the-top and ostentatious whether it be with your character design, or your flasks, or things like that, and especially your outfits at the live events - how do you come up with these over-the-top creations and also how on earth do you plan on topping last night?

Sam: That last part will be hard. I think next year, I'll either come out totally naked or I'll just be so basic - pleated khakis, a polo shirt, I don't know. That outfit last night, it was pieced together from several different stores, I'm sure CritRoleCloset will figure it out at some point. But it was a challenge putting that together. And then, my fellow cast members, like two weeks after I bought all that weird stuff I wore, they were like, "hey let's go goth". So. Fuck you guys.

Q: For Travis; with Fjord's recent decision, do you see him changing outfits to fit his new or old persona?

Travis: I don't think so. Most of Fjord's armor was very piece-mail stuff that he got either from working on the docks, or stuff that he got from Vandren, or items that he was given just as he sort of accrued time and responsibility where he worked. I think that stuff's very dear to him, especially coming from an orphanage where he didn't have any possessions, so all those things that are actually his are very dear to him. He might add to those things, but I think underneath they'll stay there. He might augment them or change them a little bit, in the same way you would draw on your jeans in school or whatever, but that stuff's his so it means a lot to him.

Q: For Travis; after Fjord severed his pact with Uk'otoa, was there a larger fear in telling Beau and Jester what had happened, since he had been traveling with them the longest out of the Nein, or did his journeys with the Nein make that fear equal across all of the party?

Travis: I think actually he was worried about telling Beau and Jester the least, and maybe Caduceus in there as well. He knew he would hear about it from Nott, and Caleb had already sort of started to call him on his shit and saw through a lot of that stuff. He also regards the group as very powerful, so I think a lot of it is turning to his very powerful and talented friends and saying, "I don't have any of that anymore, I hope I can still play with you guys." Legit though, the response was amazing. It was absolutely incredible. Jester is so gregarious and loving and joyful and exuberant that I don't think he was worried about that, I think he was actually looking forward to telling her as one of the first people to know. And Beau is second-mate, so like ride-or-die or right?

Q: For Taliesin; I can totally be wrong for this, but just reading body language and facial features, there do seem to be moments where you're kind of just like, "I'm done with this" - I just kind of want advice, like how do you keep playing when your energy level might be low or you don't like where the story is going?

Taliesin: Oh, that is never "I'm done with this", what you're seeing is the "I'm trying to make sure no one notices that I'm reading my backstory notes". That's me reading, frantically. I'm a big believer in terror, terror is a great way to keep me up. "Oh God, I don't remember anybody's name, oh God how many siblings do I have oh God."

Marisha: Well, also you write your backstories like the Silmarillion, it's like, so intense. I'm like "my dad was mean to me" like that's my backstory.

Q: For Sam; based on the amazing reaction we've had to your DnDBeyond theme and the Critical Role theme, when can we expect a parody version of the 2010 hit "Like a G6" by Far East Movement as "Like a d6"?

Sam: Oh wow, that's good.

Marisha: Not to be that person, it already exists. The Library Bards did it. So, you should check it out. I mean, do a cover, Sam, I don't know.

Sam: There are more songs incoming, just so you know.

Q: For Matt; you say dunamancy can alter the reality and the fate of the person that wields it - is this an affront to the Raven Queen?

Matt: I would say, given the fact that elements of dunamancy deal with the manipulation of probability, destiny, things like that, the Raven Queen is probably not that cool with dunamancy. Just throwing that out there. One of the few things she's probably like, "Really, guys?" So yeah, I'd say you're on the right track.

Q: For Laura and Travis; do you talk to Ronin about your campaign?

Laura: So, Ronin, every Thursday night he stays with a babysitter at home, but he watches the opening of the show. Like, he loves the theme song so much. I sing it every time I change his diaper.

Travis: Same, like I know there's songs that parents sing to their kids - he's heard the damn theme song every day of his life.

Brian: But do you guys change the lyrics though, like "You shit your pants, I'm cleaning it up now", you know what I mean?

Liam: My kids bust into that song constantly. We cannot play a board game or anything. Someone goes "it's your turn" "TO ROLL" every time.

Q: For Marisha; I'm a huge fan of Jocks Machina and hopefully we'll get to see them on the channel one day - will Beau ever join Jocks Machina?

Marisha: What are the requirements, are there prerequisites for joining Jocks Machina? You're kind of the authority on this.

Travis: Guns. Abs. Likes to lift heavy things. Likes to break a sweat. Likes to whoop that ass.

Marisha: Check. Check. ...Check? Check. Hell yeah.

Q: For Matt; this is a rather involved conspiracy theory question, so excuse me - last year when the party was in Shady Creek Run at the Landlocked Lady Inn, they first arrived and there was a doorman named Champ who Keg knew. The next morning, they went down and there was a new doorman who said he'd been working for the Marduns for a few months and had bright red curly hair and vibrant green eyes and acted rather enigmatic and shady and shifty and was saying they should listen more and that he hoped that whatever they were after, they were on the right path. Later, once they recover everyone, Jester is asking the Traveler where he was, and he says he was always there. So my question is this: was that character the Traveler in disguise?

Matt: [several moments of silence]

Matt: That'd be pretty interesting, huh? That's a unique observation. I will confirm nor deny.

Q: For Matt; now that Fjord has effectively broken up with Uk'otoa, what do you think would be a more compelling storyline, or what are you most interested to see: him continue to take levels in warlock, possibly with an Archfey patron, or paladin...?

Matt: Part of what I really enjoy about this game is how the players continuously surprise me. I'm down to see what journey Travis wants to take. I'm curious to see how he takes this next path in his journey and which elements he wants to maintain, what direction he wants to go - he seems to be really finding interest in the Wildmother and talking to Caduceus about that, and that's kind of been an element of breaking that pact at the time, so I'm curious if he's going to continue down that path or see this as a blank slate to continue to grow. I'm interested to see the different decisions that Fjord takes, and Travis does through Fjord, and kind of adjust and build the narrative for that character around that. I can't say I have a specific path that I'm hoping for, because I have no idea what Travis's direct interest is, beyond just the actions he's taken in the game. Yeah, I'm just excited to see where it goes. I really love the idea of not knowing that as the Dungeon Master. As much as it's me building and world-planning, many of you out there who run games as GM know the most exciting part of the game is after all that prep, coming to the table and the players completely surprise you, and you kind of have to think on your feet and go with it. That's the best part of the game for me.

Q: For Marisha; what inspired you to play Beau a bit more shaken about her near-death than some of the other characters?

Marisha: Well, I was at 2 hit points the whole time - Liam can attest to that. So you know, I was kind of role-playing that. Shit's crazy man.

Q: For Liam; so you play your characters, both Vax and Caleb, very emotionally without any hesitation, and you're an experienced actor. What I wanted to ask was, something that people who try to emulate Critical Role don't realize that can happen when you try to put yourself into the character and get emotionally invested is character bleed. I was wondering how you deal with that, if you do at all. Like, if something really emotionally devastating happens to Vax or to Caleb, how does it affect you and how do you deal with it?

Liam: These feel like synthetic memories, so any time the superimposed fantasy friend gets killed or has to leave or whatever happens - that shit we carry around and get upset about. Every time we leave on a cliffhanger and someone's gonna die, we think about it constantly. Vax helped me sort through things, but made me more loyal and determined and willing to take chances - which in life I generally try to avoid conflict. Caleb, I still kind of drive around and think about him and still go, like "why did you do that?" He's really messed up, if I just think like, fireballs and cats like it's fun, and we can make dick jokes and it's fun. But if I really take a minute, I just go "Oh". I feel bad for him, I feel really bad for him. I have fun playing the game, and I love these guys, and I feel bad for my character.

Follow-up Q: Do you have ways that you learned to process that, like if you're at home feeling bummed about something that happened on a Thursday night, and you're like "man I need to get out of this funk"?

Liam: Yeah, I pull my head out of the game. I'll play a game with my kid, or watch a movie with my wife, or go running. Running is great. Not for your knees, but everything else. Or spend time with these guys out of the game. There's lots of ways. We're really invested in their stories, so it sort of drags along like coattails wherever we go.

Matt: To give you examples too, when he says "hanging out with friends", the group that's there, your friends that are in this game that you trust enough? You should all also support each other when those dark moments happen outside of the game. Whenever we lose a character in the game, we have like a wake. We go to an Irish pub that we go to often in Burbank, and we all get drinks and we have a wake for that character. And it's part of that process too. Even though it's imaginary, there's a part of that experience and journey that's come to an end and that deserves its respect as well, and we're all there to support the player. As a playing group, be there for your friends who may be going through that experience, because even though it is make-believe and it's a game, that is still a loss. And that's not a bad thing either. Loss is an important thing to process, because life comes with loss. Part of the wonderful experiences of role-playing games is that it allows us a safe space to explore very positive and very negative emotions in a healthy way and make us better people for it. So just be there for them, be supportive, and be the best friends and co-players you can be.

Liam: Part of the reason, I think, that we get upset when these fictional characters are killed is because we're playing this game of imagination together, and we form a chemistry together where we're like "we get to do this together, and it's always like this, and you're always funny like that, and you're always intense like this" and we really love that chemistry. Then somebody gets killed and they're gone, and that chemistry, which is something that we're like addicted to and love, that chemistry is gone. Like, when Molly was gone. Beau and Molly had this great "fuck you" "fuck you" butting heads thing - that's gone. We're actors, but anyone who plays this game extensively, you love the sort-of second life that you create for yourself and then when the character is gone, you don't have that unique mix anymore.

Q: For Laura; I really love how you play Vex and Jester, even though as two characters, they're pretty different from each other. But sometimes, you have an instance where like, your Laura shows. So I actually just wanted to ask, what was the biggest disconnect you've ever experienced between player versus character? If you've ever felt like, you as a person, as a player, would never ever make a choice in a situation versus what your character would do in that same situation.

Laura: I feel like everything my characters do, I wouldn't do in real life. Like, especially Jester. Travis and I have had these conversations: the joy of playing a character like Jester or like Grog, where you don't have to filter yourself - everybody, I assume, has these random really stupid things that pop up in your brain and you don't say them because everyone would judge you, and they're weird - and as these characters, you just embrace it, and it is so much fun. Talk about character bleed - it is an issue that I deal with now, because Jester has had that effect on me, and so I tend to say stupider things in real life now. No, but I would never deface anything in public, I would never steal anything.

Travis: You're not gonna attach any dicks on the walls.

Laura: I would not attach a dick to a wall in public. Or anywhere. I do eat a lot of donuts though, that's on me.

Q: For Matt; we've explored several places in the multiverse in your games, like the City of Brass, the Feywild, places like that - are there any places in the multiverse like the Astral Sea or somewhere that you, either as a player or as a GM, would have liked to have gone but have never had the time or resources to do?

Matt: Interesting. I do have some places that I really would like to explore, whether in this campaign or campaigns down the road. Astral Sea is interesting, it's a really weird amorphous plane, and I just love the prospect of one day throwing an Astral Dreadnought at these poor guys. He's my second to the Tarrasque. Oh they're fun, they're a good time. I've always loved Planescape. The City of Sigil would be great for obvious reasons of course. So I can be like, "no guys, this is where I learned my wrong pronunciation". But the City of Doors is awesome. Lady of Pain is a great element. Those who watched the Search for Bob oneshot, there was a Lady of Pain reference dropped in there. If you missed it, you can go back and look. Maybe there's a few doors in Sigil that lead to Exandria, who knows. Think about that for your home campaigns, huh? I want to go into some deep Abyssal planes too. We've been to the City of Dis, we've seen a little bit of the Nine Hells of Baator, though maybe not the harsher places. There's so many to explore!

Q: For Sam; Matt has said on Twitter that one of the ways you guys handle the pressures of the Kickstarter and the intense dramatic moments in the campaign is by checking in with each other and checking in on each other's mental health. I know you take on a lot of responsibilities with doing the DnDBeyond ads and the songs that you write and also your characters are often joking around with other characters and giving them a hard time so I was wondering, from your perspective, if you could give some details, without giving away anything too personal, on how to properly mentally check-in with your fellow players and just help everybody and check that everybody is doing okay.

Sam: Well, I'm learning from these guys, as we go, how best to do that. I'm weird in that, as weird as I am on-screen, I don't really talk very much when we're off-screen, or I keep my stuff to myself, more than some of these guys do. But they have, in the last few years, helped me sort of connect more with my best friends here. You know, we do check in a lot with each other, thanks to Matt and thanks to all of us. For instance, yesterday morning we all had breakfast together. It was really nice - we just talked about stuff, and it was just great to just sort of reconnect with everybody. I'm not an expert at this in any way, and in fact, on this stage, I am the least good at it, but I have endeavoured to become better at it. Opening yourself up to your friends and feeling comfortable enough to share your past or your worries for the future with your friends and not getting any judgement back is like, the greatest gift. If you have that with one person, it's amazing. If you have that with all of these people? Holy moly, it's the greatest thing in the world. I've tried to be better at sharing my stuff with them and being there for them. That's all I can do.

Q: For Marisha; in campaign one with Vox Machina, there's a lot of powerful badass lady NPCs, so if by chance, it all worked out timewise, who do you think Beau would be most likely to have a crush on?

Marisha: Kima. Yeah. Keyleth very much emulated Allura, and really looked up to her and kind of looked at her as a powerful female figurehead and took notes for leadership through her. Beau would just wanna fuck.

Q: For Liam; what do characters do in the campaign that you find funny no matter how old it gets?

Liam: Everybody throw in on this one. I'll never get over Laura waggling her eyebrow every third word in the game.

Taliesin: Slow snicker every time there's even vaguely a possibility of a dick joke.

Travis: I'd say every time there's a pain reaction out of Nott. It is hysterical to me.

Liam: I like any time, just the concept of death comes up or Molly - anywhere, in the game, out of the game - one of these people would be like, "Like you, you're dead!"

Laura: Uk'otoa.

Q: For Laura; do you think the volcano would be a good spot for Traveler on?

Laura (using Jester's voice): Okay here's the thing. Like, I totally did at first and I need to talk to him, because I think that now it's probably not, because it wasn't very expansive really, as big as I thought it would be, and there wasn't like a lot of beds, and like, no real good food. So, I don't know how many people are coming, but like, even just getting to the nearest hotel was really difficult, you know?

Matt: I love the idea that half of your sketchbook is Jester's tiny Yelp reviews of locations in Wildemount.

Q: For Laura; with all of the throwback to Vox Machina and Whitestone in the week before, how are you feeling with all of it?

Laura: I'm feeling very nostalgic.

Laura (using Vex's voice): Also, I would love for everyone to come visit.

Marisha (using Keyleth's voice): Me as well.

Laura (using Jester's voice): And also, if we did, I think we would cause a lot of problems.

Marisha: New pitch - Travelercon at Whitestone. We know the food is good, lots of lodging and room and board, no dead people in trees anymore.

Laura: All of the residuum that you could ever hope for.

Brian: And endless booze.

[Panel end]

[spaceorphan18]

SO’s Guide to JAM (The Office)

And no, I don’t mean preservatives.  ;)  For @redheadgleek - because she wanted to know.  

So - the thing about the Office is that, unlike lots of sitcoms where you can jump right in during the middle, The Office (at least at the beginning) benefits from character development - and a lot of things later on don’t resonate as well if you don’t have the context and backstory to set them up.  There are plenty of things to skip, but it’s worth sitting through some of the uncomfortable things to appreciate the story.  That said - hopefully, this guide will help you decide if you want to pass or not.  

I am going to use a ** to designate episodes I think you should watch.  

Season 1

I think Season 1 is the hardest for people to get through.  They were very much trying to model the British version, but the British version is very dark at times, and the American version just won’t allow itself to get that way, so season 1 feels really weird tonally -- and honestly different than the rest of the series.  Plenty of people skip it all together, but there are some things worth watching. 

Pilot - They used the script from the British pilot, and even that was kind of bland.  I find this episode boring, and while it introduces Jim and Pam, it’s entirely skippable.  

Diversity Day - So, there’s a lot of cringe here, but this is what made me really enjoy Jim and Pam, because Jim’s entire day sucks, and then at the very end, he and Pam have a special, sweet moment.  This worked for me, but I can understand wanting to move past all the Michael. 

Health Care - There are some fun Jim/Pam hijinx against Dwight in this one.  The Michael plot is entirely skippable if that’s too much.  But not huge in the Jam story. 

**The Alliance - I would recommend this one, if only because the show comes back to it a lot.  Jim and Dwight form an alliance, which is really Jim messing with Dwight.  Again - the Michael portion of this episode is entirely skippable - so you can fastforward through that if you don’t want to endure it. 

Basketball - Everyone plays basketball.  It’s not really that interesting - but there are some flirty moments between Jim and Pam. 

Hot Girl - I think this is the funniest of Season 1.  Amy Adams shows up to sell purses at the office.  There are great little Jam moments, but the only thing to really take away from this one is that Jim ends up asking Amy Adams out, which sets up season 2.  

Season 2

Season 2 gets rid of a lot of the cringiest stuff from season 1, and lets the show be itself.  While there are definitely Jam heavy/focused episodes, a lot of why the story line works is that there are little moments that build up in each episode that make it worthwhile. 

**The Dundies - This is a great introduction to the show.  Michael is more tolerable than he usually is.  A ton of great Jam stuff in this one.  Really a must see. 

Sexual Harassment - There is a lot of cringe in this one.  However, Pam’s mom shows up, and there are a few smaller Jam moments. 

**Office Olympics - Michael (and Dwight) are out of the office and everyone goofs off.  It’s a fun episode, and the Michael subplot is entirely skippable (though it’s not really that bad) 

The Fire - There’s a fire in the office, so everyone goes outside and they play games.  Lots of fun Jam stuff, though nothing life changing.  The Michael/Ryan stuff is a little awkward.  But the episode is good at expanding all the side characters so it’s recommended, even if it’s not a must see.  

Halloween - Michael has to fire someone, so it is cringy in that regard.  Jim and Pam have a subplot of getting Dwight to go to another job, which leads to some delicious angst.  

The Fight - Michael and Dwight physically fight.  Jim and Pam kind of parallel with a mini-fight of their own.  The episode as a whole I’m a little meh on, but if you just watch the Jam scenes, you’ll get what you need. 

**The Client - Michael goes on a sales call - and is actually a good salesman.  Meanwhile, the office reads a script Michael wrote.  It’s great, classic Jam stuff in this one. 

Performance Review - I personally find this one funny because it’s fallout from The Client, but not Jim/Pam heavy.  They have a minor subplot where they prank Dwight. 

**Email Surveillance - Not entirely essential, but Jim throws a BBQ at his house, and there’s some good development here.  The Michael plot at improv can be completely fastforwarded through. 

**Christmas Party - I actually used to find this episode difficult (until I became really desensitized to it), but it is sitting through the terrible Michael stuff to get to the Jam stuff that will be relevant for years to come.  

**Booze Cruise - The office goes on a Booze Cruise.  Yes - watch this, feel angst, feel joy, feel all the things. 

The Injury - there’s really zero Jam in this, however, it is incredibly funny and Pam and Dwight become friends, and I love that.  Oh, the plot is Michael cooks his foot. I do recommend it, even if it’s not essential.

**The Secret - Jim tells Michael his feelings for Pam. Yes, lots of Jam-y stuff in this. 

The Carpet - Someone puts weird stuff on Michael’s carpet forcing Michael to work in the office.  I like it - there’s a lot of good Jim stuff (and a lot of angst) but not a lot of Jam.  The ending is classic, though. 

Boys and Girls - Jan throws a women in the workplace seminar.  There’s some good Pam development in this one, so I recommend at least watching the women scenes. 

Valentine’s Day - There is zero Jam stuff in it, but that’s the point.  I think it’s really cool what they do with this - but not essential.  However, it does have one of my favorite Pam/Dwight scenes. 

Dwight’s Speech - Dwight wins salesman of the year.  I’m a little meh on this one, too, tbh.  Jim decides he’s not going to Pam’s wedding, but that’s the only Jam stuff in the episode. 

Take Your Daughter to Work Day - People bring their kids to work.  There’s some tiny bits of Jam in this one, but another I’m slightly ‘meh’ on.  

Michael’s Birthday - No one pays attention to Michael on his birthday.  Jim and Pam take a shopping trip that’s kinda cute, but there’s a lot of Michael pouting in this episode that makes it difficult. 

**Drug Testing - Dwight finds a joint and grills the office.  Has one of the best Jam subplots of the show. 

**Conflict Resolution - Michael decides to resolve all the office conflicts.  Of course this goes over well.  Not a ton of Jam, but some relevant stuff, and some fantastic Jim stuff.  

**Casino Night -- Yes, watch this.  Enjoy this.  One of the best Jam episodes, and one of the best episodes in the series hands down. 

Season 3

The thing about Season 3 is -- while Season 2 was kind of Jim’s story, Season 3 is Pam’s story - and it’s one of my favorite arcs of any TV show.  Again, while not all the episodes are essential, Pam (and Jam) get developed in every single episode - so I do recommend seeing all of Seasons 2 and 3, but it’s not required. 

Gay Witch Hunt - Michael finds out Oscar is gay.  Jim and Pam miss each other.  Not essential, and does contain one of the most cringy moments of the show, but it does show the resolution of Casino Night, and you’ll probably end up watching it anyway, even if I don’t mark it as essential. 

The Convention - Michael and Dwight meet up with Jim at a convention.  Pam goes on a date.  Good episode, little things sprinkled throughout. 

The Coup - Dwight tries to get Michael fired.  This one is dark.  Pam gets new clothes, Jim plays Call of Duty.  It’s well written, but again, very dark. 

Grief Counseling - Michael is upset that his former boss has died, and so Pam helps him grieve.  Great Pam development in this one. 

**The Initiation - Dwight takes Ryan to his beet farm.  I love this episode, it’s hilarious.  There’s also a huge Jim/Pam thing at the end, worth watching. 

Diwali - Kelly invites the office to her Diwali celebration.  This one is a bit cringy.  Some good bits, though, with Pam coming out of her shell a bit. 

**Branch Closing & The Merger - kind of a two parter. I recommend both of them, because they’re both good episodes (though The Merger has some high cringe) and some good Jam development going on. 

The Convict - Michael finds out one of the employees has been to prison.  I don’t think it’s as cringy as it might seem.  Jim gets Andy to hit on Pam by using all the things she hates - it’s classic, and the main plot can be skipped if you only want to see the Jam stuff.  

**A Benihana Christmas - It’s hard to explain - lots of Xmas things going on - and possibly the best Xmas special they do, so I do recommend it. 

Back from Vacation - Mostly about Michael trying to cover up the fact that he sent a nude photo of his gf to the company.  It’s not that bad.  There is an essential Pam moment where she breaks down and is comforted by Dwight, but the rest of the episode isn’t essential at all.  

**Traveling Salesman & The Return - All the salesmen pair up to go on sales calls, and Oscar returns to the office.  Another 2 parter of sorts.  Andy gets a bit much, but otherwise, they’re really solid and entertaining episodes across the board, with a bit of Jam development.  

**Ben Franklin - Michael throws a bachelor party in the office, and to even it out, throws a bachelorette party for the girls.  Their stripper is Ben Franklin.  Some cringy stuff here, but not too bad - and I think the Pam story line is worth it. 

Phyllis’s Wedding - this has some of the most cringy stuff in the show.  However, if you skip the wedding and go to the reception, there’s some great stuff -- including some delicious angst for Jam. 

Business School - A majority of this is Michael going to Ryan’s business school, and Jim convincing Dwight he turned into a vampire.  Not a lot here - but the ending with Pam’s art show is great in Pam’s arc. 

Cocktails - Michael, Dwight, and Jim go out to a corporate party while Pam and the rest of the office go out for drinks.  I’m a bit meh on the episode, but some good Pam development in this one. 

The Negotiation - A lot of it is focused on Darryl wanting a raise, and therefor Michael asking for a raise.  This ties up some Pam story loose threads so worth it for that. 

Safety Training - Like the Injury, this is not essential at all, but I think it’s one of the funniest episodes, and I do recommend it on that merit alone. 

Product Recall - the office deals with having to recall a product.  There is really zero Jam stuff in it.  This is really the only one of seasons 1-3 that I have a tendency to skip when I’m just wanting to watch for Jam related stuff.  But it’s not that bad (comparatively to stuff later on). 

**Women’s Appreciation - Phyllis is flashed, so this leads to Michael wanting to appreciate women more.  It’s actually very good, and a great Pam story line.  

**Beach Games -- Yes, watch this episode, it’s amazing, and possibly one of my favorites -- plus one of the best Pam moments on the show. 

**The Job -- also yes, watch this, it’s kind of the conclusion of the original Jam arc.  

I can’t stress it enough, though, in order for The Job to land, I really, really recommend watching all of seasons 2 and 3.  

Okay, so because there are a lot of episodes here, and seasons 4+ are a little different, I’m gonna change up this guide a little.  

Season 4

Season 4 is shorter because the writer’s strike happened then.  There are a lot of delicious Jam moments, and the show is still functioning pretty well as a sitcom (though it steers into more cartoonish when Michael drives literally into a lake).  I recommend watching the whole season, but highlight episodes are ---

Fun Run (not the best - but great Jam stuff, and resolution to The Job); Money (Jam visits Dwight’s farm); Local Ad (it’s just a fun episode); Dinner Party (Michael and Jan host a dinner party - considered one of the best episodes of the show, but I think that hinges on knowing the characters, so don’t start here, lol); Chair Model (Michael is annoying but great Jam stuff); Goodbye Toby (season finale, lots of good Jam stuff.  

Season 5 

Season 5 I also recommend watching all of.  Jam stuff in pretty much every episode, and it’s still a funny and solid show.  However, highlight episodes include --

Weight Loss; Crime Aid; Customer Surveys; Business Trip; Frame Toby; The Surplus; Stress Relief; Lecture Circuit; The Michael Scott Paper Company Arc (Eps 5x20-5x25); Cafe Disco (one of my favorites), and Company Picnic. 

Season 6

I feel like if you reach Season 6, you know whether or not you want to keep going.  This the first season where I think you can really see a decline in quality.  It’s also the first season that doesn’t heavily feature Jim and Pam as earlier seasons, (they are still main characters, so they do get things in every episode, even if it’s not much) and while there are some great episodes, a lot of this season (to me) feels a little meh and boring.  However - essential episodes -- 

Gossip; Niagara; Murder, Sabre (if you want to understand what’s going on in the rest of the show); The Delivery. 

Okay, I guess that’s not a whole lot.  However -- this season also features an episode I do not go back and watch -- that is the infamous Scott’s Tots.  The less said, the better. 

Season 7 

I like Season 7 a lot better than season 6 - the episodes are better all around, and it’s Steve Carell’s last season.  There’s not a ton of Jam stuff here, but more than season 6.  (I also like Jim and Pam’s dynamic in this season more than season 6′s).  Essential episodes -- 

Nepotism; Andy’s Play (it’s a musical!); The Sting; Costume Contest; Viewing Party (for the Glee!); Classy Christmas; The Search (if you want to know where my URL comes from); PDA; Threat Level Midnight; Garage Sale; Goodbye Michael (minus the subplots).  I don’t really recommend the season finale - Search Committee - but it does set up season 8.  

Season 8

Season 8 isn’t very good.  It’s not that Steve Carell left, it’s that the show didn’t know what to do because he left -- and despite having some great characters to work with, they end up focusing on Ed Helms and James Spader, too much.  You can probably skip to season 9 without missing much, however, there are a few half-way decent things.  I wouldn’t call these essential, but in case you want a taste of season 8

The List; Pam’s Replacement (which is really the only Jam stuff this season); Special Projects, Test the Store.  

Yeah, that’s kinda it.  The post Florida episodes are really terrible (Get the Girl-Fundraiser), and are possibly the worst episodes of the show, so I recommend burying them in the sand and not thinking of them. 

Season 9

I think season 9 is a little underrated, and while a far cry from its heyday (and still way too much Andy), I think overall it’s rather enjoyable.  Also, Jim and Pam get a story line spanning the entire season for the first time since, maybe, season 5 - which is a nice change.  It’s a little hit and miss but it’s nice to see them treated as main characters again.  Honestly, it’s hard to recommend just a handful - so, really, just watch all of it and skip the Andy stuff.  

[caps-lockdown]

Sweater Weather Part Two

Here’s part two of this fun series. Full Steamy! Steve ahead!

Pairings: Steve Rogers x PottsRelativeFem!Reader

Ratings/Warnings: Hard R

For everything from language, crude jokes, ADULT situations/impure thoughts, booze (because it’s pretty much a staple in my fics at this point.), arguments, and an extremely overprotective Tony Stark. Very little angst, as I try to keep most of my fics light humored. But of course there are some insecurities/unsure feelings, as well as sad feels from everything with endgame/ the decimation. Also dead parents.

Also AU in the fact NO ONE DIED during Endgame/Steve didn’t go back. Also as much as I adore Morgan Stark, she isn’t around yet. I didn’t know where this would fit timeline wise, so just ignore the timeline. Kay? Cool.

Slow(ish) burn. Lots of pining

Words: 3,422

Summary: You’ve just moved to New York after a long 3 year stint travelling the world and helping with various charities, taking a new job with Stark Industries thanks to your cousin Pepper. A trip out to surprise Tony and The Avengers for the weekend turns from good to terrible when the a/c at the compound breaks. How will you beat the heat for the record breaking weekend?

Part two

“Toss me the salt will ya Short stack?” You lazily passed the salt to Tony who sat at your right of the dinner table, everyone digging into the massive roast chicken you and Pepper had made.

You had to admit the two of you were unstoppable in the kitchen. You danced around each other with ease, almost in a creepy silence save for the music you had picked out. You were positive it would have been awkward, getting back into small habits with your two closest family members but it had been like a warm hug instead. It was like you had never left. Conversations flowed easily and not just with Pepper and Tony, but the rest of the team as well. You found your sides hurting after laughing yourself silly due to Bucky and Sam’s married couple-esque bickering, not to mention Tony’s constant glares at Steve whenever he so much looked at you. You didn’t realize until you were halfway through your meal just how much you had missed everyone.

“You two should cook more often together, this food is incredible.” You smiled warmly at Thor’s compliment, Nat reaching to spoon another large portion of mashed potatoes onto her plate.

“I agree, you dames do pretty amazing work in the kitchen.” Bucky nodded at you, your heart swelling in pride.

“It’s all Pepper guys. I just follow instructions and hope she doesn’t stab me if I fuck up.” You nodded to your cousin, who chuckled in between bites.

“I’m just glad you’re back home where you belong Y/N. This table just wasn’t the same without you these last few years.” Tears threatened to prickle your eyes as she raised her wine glass up, the rest of the team following suit. “To Y/N!”

“To Y/N!” Everyone shouted, a large smile breaking out over your face as you sniffled away the tears of happiness away.

Dinner plates were soon cleared after that, the Avengers assembling in the kitchen for dish duty.

“I can help!” You tried moving past the walls that were Steve and Bucky, only to have them shake their heads at you.

“Not how this works Doll.” The captain smirked, his best friend giving you a light shove backwards.

“Yea Y/N. You cooked, we clean, no exceptions. Now go run along and get comfy, we’ll be in there to watch movies soon.” Bucky playfully wagged his finger, “You’re not gonna get past us, so don’t try it.” You threw your hands up in mock surrender, turning on your heel and slowly walking away.

You paused for a beat of time before running back at the two men full force, personally driven to get past them. Using your momentum you easily flung yourself to slide gracefully over the island countertop on their left, landing snugly between an impressed Tony and Natasha. You took the plate Stark had meant to hand his teammate with a smirk, grabbing the towel off of Nat’s shoulder and wiping it off before grabbing the other plates to take to the cabinet they belonged to. Sam couldn’t stop laughing as he offered you a high five for your efforts, the sound of your joined hands echoing throughout the kitchen.

“I thought you two were supposed to be super soldiers. Not super slow-pokes.” You jabbed, catching the dirty napkins Bruce tossed you with ease. Steve tried to hide his smile behind a very fake glare while Bucky clicked his teeth in your direction. “Dishes are done! Can we please go watch movies now?” You placed your hands on your hips as you stood again in front of the two large men. “Should I give you two time to move out of my way? Your old age and all I wouldn’t want you to break a hip.”

Steve deadpanned, not giving you a second to rethink your words as he effortlessly gripped your waist and promptly threw you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. Your hands shooting to grip his strong back as you let out a high pitched squeal, everyone laughing while the blonde mountain took off in a quick gait down the hall. Your cheeks felt like they were on fire as he casually dropped you on the couch, his arms coming to rest on either side of your head. You subconsciously licked your lips as he moved to bring his face close to yours, his voice a mere whisper on your skin as you tried in vain to calm your breathing.

“I might be old but the only time I’d ever be slow is if I was alone with you Doll.”

Your eyes widened at his piercing blue ones taking in his bold statement, the loud voices coming into the room causing Steve to straighten up his stance. He offered you a wink before placing his hands in his pockets, looking completely normal and as if he hadn’t just gave you a heart attack.

“We’ve decided Y/N should pick the movie.” Nat clapped excitedly at you, your pulse lowering to normal as you swallowed hard at what just happened. Where the hell was the nice sweet Steve Rogers you had remembered from years ago? Why was he acting like his life goal was to ruin you for all other men? Not that you would mind in the slightest, but where was this behavior coming from? You didn’t recall seeing any Asgardian mead anywhere during dinner.

“Right um…how about The Princess Bride?”

“That’s a great pick Y/N! Bucky still hasn’t seen it.” Sam agreed brightly, the winter soldier nodding before taking a seat on the love seat to your left. You shook your head smiling as Tony rushed to sit next to you on the couch, sticking his tongue out at Steve. If you had blinked you were sure you’d miss the flash of disappointment in his features before he stalked off to sit next to Bucky. You felt bad for exactly two seconds before Pepper handed you a bowl of kettle corn, Bruce moving to put in the movie.

“It’s a shame Clint couldn’t be here. How’s he been?” You asked, stuffing a handful of popcorn into your mouth and handing the bowl to Tony.

“Probably busy making baby number four with Laura I imagine.” You snorted at the man sitting next to you, shaking your head as the movie started, Pepper telling F.R.I.D.A.Y to turn out the lights. You got sucked into the film instantly.

“I want to see my face shining in it by morning.” “As you wish.”

“WHATEVER YOU SAY JEN-NAY!” You shouted at the screen in a terrible Forrest Gump impression that had Sam laughing his ass off on the ground.

“The only comfort she found was in her daily ride.”

“Man I’d kill for a woman who rides daily.” Sam’s remark later had you in tears, reaching over to high five the man as the rest of the group chuckled. Tony wasn’t having any of it.

“Hey Waldolf and Statler? You mind? Trying to watch the movie here.” You made a lip zipping motion to your cousin, bringing your eyes back to the movie and eating more popcorn to keep quiet.

“So, did you lip lock with Y/N yet?” Bucky whispered to Steve, internally chuckling at how he kept stealing glances at you in the dark. You were too engrossed in the movie to pay attention to anything else, and he was beyond grateful the lights were out, your features only lit by the T.V screen.

“No Buck. I’m trying but she’s so perfect I don’t want to come on too strong. I mean it’s been a long time and..”

“Woah woah hang on a second!” Sam shot his head over to look up at the two men from the floor with a shocked expression. “You’re trying to land Y/N? Like Tony Stark’s cousin slash adopted sister Y/N?! How long have you carried a torch for this woman?”

“Too damn long.” Bucky’s echoing of Steve’s words from earlier rang in his ears as he proceeded to fill Sam in of their earlier conversation and bring him up to speed.

~~Earlier while you were prepping dinner with Pepper~~

“Let’s go Stevie, you and I are going to have some words.” Bucky grabbed the confused Captain by the elbow, not giving him any room to escape as he all but dragged him into an empty hallway, away from everyone else currently waiting for food to be finished. “What’s the deal with you and Y/N? And don’t try to lie to me. You’ve been watching her like she’s the end all to your existence. Spill.”

“I didn’t expect to see her Buck. She’s the last person I would have ever pegged on coming back to New York after everything.” Steve leaned against the wall of the hallway, smiling as he remembered what the two of you used to be like. “We were close once, back before I left to find you, back before everything went to hell. One of my biggest regrets in life has been not telling her how I feel. How she makes me feel.” The man sighed, running a hand through his hair at the sound of your laughter coming from the kitchen.

“I’ve never wanted anyone so bad in my entire life. I always hoped that maybe she’d come back, and maybe I could make up for lost time somehow. She’s incredible! So gorgeous even when she isn’t trying to be, funny, and wicked smart. She sucks the air right out of my lungs every time she even looks at me. She makes me feel like I’m going to die from an asthma attack. What’s worse is I wouldn’t even mind as long as I got to call her mine. Even if only for a moment.”

“That bad huh? Why don’t you just ask her out? Or just push her up against the wall and make her forget her own name?” Bucky asked, Steve’s upset gaze turning to the dining area.

“Easy. You know her cousin.” He sighed defeated, his best friend giving him a tight lipped smile before bringing his fist up and socking him in the arm. Hard.

“Bullshit Steve Rogers. Y/N is single, you’re single! Screw Tony!”

“I’d rather screw Y/N Buck, have you not been listening?” The admission made the winter soldier’s eyes damn near fall out of his head.

“Damn Stevie” The brunette chuckled, watching how flustered his friend became when Y/N poked her head into the hallway.

“Soup’s on gentlemen! Don’t make me wait!”

“Wouldn’t dream of it Doll. Smells great!” Steve called, looking at Bucky while the woman beamed and disappeared again from view. “You gotta help me man, She’s going to be here all weekend and I’m going to go crazy!”

“Then go crazy! You never know unless you try Rogers. She seems into you, so why not just go all in? How long have you carried a torch for her?”

“Too damn long.” Steve responded as they began their walk to the dining table.

Now

“So we’re gonna call this Mission Getting America’s ass a piece of Ass or Operation Raising America’s flagpole?” Sam asked out loud, Tony getting fed up with their talking and throwing a few kernels of popcorn at the men.

“Shh!!!!” Steve rolled his eyes as Stark shushed them loudly, his heart squeezing as he watched you smack your cousin’s arm, clearly not caring about their hushed tones.

“Man you had to pick Y/N? Dangerous waters man, respect. Count me in.”

“Yea Pal, we’ll help you avoid the overprotective ass so you can get closer to Y/N’s ass. No problem.” Steve smiled as his friend clapped him on the shoulder, only to get hit square in the back of the head with more popcorn. Turning his head to glare at Stark, he was surprised to see you holding the popcorn bowl, a playful scowl on your perfect face.

“Shhh!” You raised your finger to your lips, the men instantly shutting up so you could enjoy the rest of the film.

“I have no idea what’s going on.” Everyone laughed at Bucky’s statement, his confusion warranted by the sheer fact he hadn’t been paying attention the first hour and was consequentially lost. You jumped at the sudden sound of your cell phone interrupting the film, groans of frustration leaving everyone as you went to dig out the noisy device from your pocket.

“Shit. So sorry everyone!” Your face paled upon seeing you had four text messages from the same person calling you. Your best friend Kate. “I’ll be right back!” You looked apologetically to everyone while you scramble off the couch, catching the now empty bowl Tony had tossed you.

“With more popcorn Short Stack. First one up gets the snack refills.”

“Yea yea, keep your shirt on Snark.” You skipped out into the hall, pressing the green accept button and bringing the phone up to your ear. “HEY BOO THANG!”

“Don’t you fucking dare hey boo thang me Y/L/N. Take a wild guess where I am.”

“Um….Antarctica?” You tried, hearing your angry friend huff in annoyance as you re-entered the kitchen, trying to remember where Pepper had put the box of popcorn.

“Nice try smart ass. I’m in your apartment.” You stiffened, pulling the small box out of the cupboard and opening it.

“How’d you get in hoe?”

“You’ve kept the same hide-a-key gnome since college.”

“Right. What brings you by? I thought you were in Canada til Monday for a car meet?”

“It was a total drag. Cops showed up, handed almost everyone a VI, it’s no fun after that. I came back early, decided I’d surprise you with a welcome home pizza and some wine. I climbed SEVEN flights of stairs Y/N. SEVEN. You ignored my texts so I thought you fell asleep. BUT NO. So where the hell are you?!”

“Avengers compound. A/c is broken for the weekend so there’s a hundred percent chance of shirtless hot men.” You pulled your phone away at the sound of Kate’s loud girlish squealing.

“MY BAAAAAABE.” She screamed into the phone, you chuckling and placing a new bag into the microwave. Tony could learn to have some patience. “Steve is there isn’t he?! You gonna jump him?! PLEEEEEASE tell me you’re going to jump Steve Roger’s fine ass?!”

“I think he’s trying to jump mine Kate.” You quickly filled her in on the previous events from the day, her loud cheers and “My Girl”s spurring on your confidence. She was always your best hype woman, always in your corner and the best person at cheering you up. You guys had met in writing class during College, the two of you became thick as thieves by the semester’s end. She was the one that told you to get out after the Decimation, she could see how much you wanted to help. You let her take over writing for your article in the small paper you wrote for so you could jump on the first plane to the U.K, promising to give it back when you returned. You’d never tell anyone how happy she was when you told her you would not be coming back to the paper upon returning back to New York. She had thrived writing it, and you knew she didn’t want to give it up. You’d never stand in her way with something like that.

“SWEET JESUS THAT MAN! The thirst struggle is real as fuck huh Y/N?” Her voice snapped you out of your thoughts along with the loud beeping of the microwave. You tore the bag from the box and immediately dumped its contents into the bowl, throwing another bag in to heat up.

“I promise I’ll sneak ya some pics whenever I can. As an apology.”

“You dangerous bitch,” You laughed openly at that, watching the timer count down to avoid making any more noise. “I’ll let you go. Call me tomorrow?”

“Of course. Love you, bye.”

“Bye babe!” Her singsong voice ended the phone call, you putting it back in your pocket before shoving the second bag into the bowl and returning to the living area. You hadn’t missed too much of the movie, settling in again next to Tony and him wasting no time at taking the popcorn off your hands.

“You’re welcome.”

“Mphmph Thanks.” Stark muffled out, not even looking at you.

The movie ended a little while later and you glanced up at the clock on the wall. You had exactly six hours before the compound would start changing temperatures. Stretching your arms up over your head you smiled lightly at the sight of Pepper and Tony cuddled up together and asleep on the couch. It was sweet to see them together, no world saving or stressful missions to plan. Just them being them. You almost felt jealous in a way, wondering if you’d ever find that kind of relationship.

“Penny for your thoughts Y/N?” You blinked at Bucky as you came back to reality, shaking your head and offering a smile as he offered a hand to help you off the couch.

“I’m fine Bucky. Just happy to be back. I’ve missed everyone so much.” You gushed, taking his hand and standing on your feet. The rest of you walked away from the living area, into the long hallway to exchange goodnights and well wishes of sleep before hell hit in the morning.

“Can I walk you to your room Doll?” You smiled warmly at Steve as he offered his arm, you taking it and starting down the hallway together.

“I don’t know can you Rogers? Or would you prefer to carry me again?” Pride ghosted your features as a blush creeped over the blonde’s cheeks.

“Sorry about earlier, I shouldn’t have acted that way...” He started and you cut him off with a short laugh.

“Don’t be sorry Steve. I’m sure as hell not.” You shrugged, slowing your steps down as you neared the door to your room. “Which one’s yours?”

“Oh umh, well it’s this one.” He pointed to the door right next to yours and you let out another laugh.

“I see now, you were just walking me to my room because it was on the way.”

“Wrong. I just wanted to spend some time alone with you. I haven’t gotten you to myself for longer than a moment all day.” Steve muttered, you looking up at him with calculating eyes as he stared back at you.

“Well now that you have me, what will you do with me?” You challenged, his gaze going dark before he wrapped you up into a giant hug. You giggled as he seemed to melt into the embrace, you bringing your hands around his neck to pull him closer, snuggling into his shoulder and breathing in his scent.

“I’ve missed you Y/N. God I’ve missed this.” A blissful sigh escaped your mouth as he only hugged you tighter against his chest. You could hear his racing heartbeat under your cheek as you stood there, gripping onto one another seemingly for dear life. You had missed him too, more than you currently cared to admit at the present. You reluctantly pulled away from the amazing man when you heard a small cough behind you, finding an amused looking Natasha.

“Don’t mind me, I’m just waiting to get to my room.” The two of you sheepishly moved out of the way for the red head, her small smile and knowing wink causing your face to flush. “Goodnight you two, don’t stay up too late.”

“We should probably...” He started

“Call it a night.” You finished, looking at him with a small smile. “Keep your door unlocked? Just in case I have nightmares and need someone to snuggle with?” You baited, it having a clear affect on Steve as he huskily chuckled, bringing your knuckles to his lips. Your body sparked as his soft lips grazed them, your vision a bit blurry as he stared at you with those perfect blue eyes.

“As you wish.”

You thought you’d die right then, watching him smirk at your cheeks reddening before turning into his own room, giving you a quick once over with his eyes and shutting the door. Oh buddy if he wanted to be a tease, you’d show him who was the reigning champion. You quickly went into your room and changed into pajama’s, placing Mister Stuffins on the pillow next to you before drifting off to sleep easily. You couldn’t wait to wake up in the morning.

Tag List: @kaytizzle @cuffski @giggleberts @pies-wands-and-more @chrisevansfanfic

[alycat411]

Covid has kicked my ass. I lay here at 3:05am on April 2nd waving my white flag. Today was probably the worst day since March 12th. Can I put into words why? I can try, but the experience is hard to capture. It’s the culmination of 3 weeks of self isolation; my spirit feels like it’s been snapped in half, and we have so much more to go.

I woke up to Pawel telling me he tested positive. I can’t count the number of times I’ve vacillated on attempting to get tested myself. It’s completely inane of me but I want some form of proof so I feel slightly less crazy. I went for a run. The fresh air was nice, but my lungs are recovering and I have to adjust to that. At the start of all this I was amused that I could see the grocery store parking lot from my window. I thought, “how convenient! I can time my trips.” It’s turned into a nightmare. I’ve managed to limit my Twitter/news exposure but I now have a compulsion of checking the parking lot. The line was terrible today. I had planned to do a big haul. I thought we were past the panic buying stage but I’m starting to lose my grip with reality and I felt genuinely worried today that there may be a shortage. I waited in a socially distanced line at Walgreens for an hour today so I could enter the store and pick up my thyroid medicine. There’s nothing like standing in a line to enter Walgreens and then see that you can’t stock up on anything to freak you out.

I’m realizing during this quarantine that New York City residents are definitely among the fucked, well depending on your social class too. Domestic living never looked so good. I shaped my life around accessibility to “doing things” and meeting new people. I curated my dream work schedule of a mere 20 hours a week. It has now become my hell with all other forms of structure removed. I can’t fill my time in a meaningful way and I don’t know what that is meant to say about me. Apparently I coped by going to the gym, getting a green juice, seeing my coworkers and clients, seeing New Yorkers on the train, having dates, going out to dinner, seeing shows and planning things. As I panick-sobbed on the phone to my mother tonight and she screamed at me get a grip about twenty times, I realized how crucial it is to be anchored to things during a pandemic. Prior to all of this I was already suffering from bouts of existential depression. I achieved my dream. Work was pretty ideal. My life was pretty ideal. It left me asking myself: now what? So I decided on a year of hedonism after years of restriction. I’d finally travel and allow myself to spend money. The irony now is that all of this has thrown me into budget mode more than before I became licensed. I’m so fortunate to still have clients but I don’t feel a sense of certainty. Each day this unfolds more people lose their jobs. How much do my clients need me? I ask myself everyday. And my mental health has never been in such conflict with being a therapist. I have never felt so out of resources, so depleted, so ill-equipped to be a space for anyone right now, and at the same time, I need to do therapy to maintain my sanity, so I don’t fall off the face of the earth.

Clients share with me new stories and data I hadn’t heard. My job has morphed into something insidious for my mental health. Where I used to have distance and had mastered not taking anything home, I can’t now; I am in my home. And my clients are transferring panic onto me. A client I’ve been seeing for 2.5 years is now furloughed at her job. She had the worst birthday she’s ever had as she battled with her partner on a decision to stay or leave the city. I express empathy. My heart breaks for her. And it’s too close to home for me. All of them are struggling more than normal, and I’m feeling it.

My partner John has been my only in person contact since the 16th. We’ve shared similar emotions but the problem with that is constantly draining one another. There are pockets when one of us is doing “well enough” to let the other process. But this has undoubtedly flared up our anxious/avoidant dynamic. I imagine the same for many couples. It’s a high stress time. I need more security and therefore closeness right now to be calmed. He needs more security and therefore more alone time to be calmed. And being polyamorous has been pretty breezy up until now. And now it’s my worst nightmare. Just like my job and freedom has become too. I never thought I’d wish to be anchored to things so badly.

I’ve reflected a lot on the meaning of life and best approaches to it since January. I’ve recognized since before the pandemic that I need something to struggle against, to push back against. Freedom is so lovely most of the time. But that small portion of time it’s really uncontaining, like you’re free falling alone in a galaxy that never ends. The pandemic has made all of life now that small portion of free falling. I’m not sure where to go from here. I’m pretty positive this is why most people have children by this age. How else can we continue to shuffle along without an anchor telling us to keep going?

Everyday is Groundhogs Day. I started off week 1 of quarantine with my usual optimism. My home workouts felt life changing. I was a supportive space to all. Like my MCMI pegs me, I flipped to my dark burnt out side. When I run out of fuel I am completely depressed and empty. Getting corona obviously stopped the home workouts. It also knocked the wind out of my “it will be okay sails.” Starting last Tuesday I began experiencing shortness of breath. My initial encounters with it were resolved with my calm demeanor assuring myself that I could definitely breathe. But by Friday it got harder. I couldn’t even talk without getting winded. I sat across from John and just began to cry as I felt my lungs struggle to expand so that I could get a good breath in. I’m so lucky that the shortness of breath has since stopped as of Sunday. I’m hearing about people’s cases taking a turn for the worse. I’m not taking my health for granted anymore. I could easily be one of the unlucky ones. I don’t think I’m healthy. I can breathe fine today, I just can’t stop crying.

I haven’t cried this frequently since Pawel and I broke up. It hits me instantly. I get a thought and boom I’m crying. A sign of how fragile I feel? Am I really that worn down? And is this all it took? It’s amusing for me to see how emotionally weak I am during something like this. I’m the individual metaphorically and literally in the fetal position wanting to wake up when this is over. I am not the therapist posting guides for her clients. I am not the colleague sending positive emails. I’m just a girl, sad and alone in her New York City apartment holding herself, hoping this will end soon.

[another-sonic-blog]

The Dark Prince: Chapter Four: Believe In Him

"So you what you are saying is that you came from the future because something happened in our time that causes your future's destruction?"

"Yes! That's exactly what I am saying!"

Amy and Shadow looked at each other and then at the white boy in front of them. Excitement on his to eyes to finally have found someone who took interest in his mission.

"Sorry to inform you boy, but you are a few days too late," Shadow confirmed.

"What do mean?"

"G.U.N's Commander was found dead a few days ago. I was the one who found him."

"No, that's not possible. The Phamton Ruby sent me here on a specific time in which I can stop the tragedy. If he was dead, I would have been sent back to another time to try again...are you sure he is dead?"

"Are you calling me a liar?"

Amy felt Shadow's anger raise up as she found his voice more annoyed than usual. "Well, have you thought that maybe the dead of G.U.N's Commander is not really the cause of your future' destruction?", Amy jumped into the middle of the two boys to prevent anything else from happening.

"Well...it could be a possibility." Silver looked into the flames in front of him. Fire, the thing that reminded him the most about his future. Destruction, annihilation, fear. But this place wasn't like anything that reminded him of that.

"Silver...are you alright?"

"Yes... it's just that, this place is so quiet. It's been a long time."

"What happens in the future? , if I may ask."

"Everything was going well until a weird diseased began to spread. It was spread by touch, and whoever had it would become kinda like a zombie. They would only follow orders from the Superior."

"The Superior?" Shadow asked this time as he calmed down.

"Yes, he controls everyone but nobody knows how he or she looks like. He wears a mask whenever he shows up to do his "Public Speeches." Silver looked up to the stars above him and he wonders when was the last time he had seen a clear sky.

"How come you are the only one here then?"

"The Rebellion* of the future decided I was the best candidate to travel back in time... I am their last hope."

Shadow stood up from his place and walked around Silver's space. Silver knew what he was doing and so Amy. He was inspecting him as if to try and see if he was worthy.

"Really? You were their last hope?"

"You don't know what I am cable of", Silver reply as he stood up, he had gone through a lot of things and he wasn't gonna let anybody doubt him of his capabilities.

"One on one... just you and me on a fair fight."

Amy knew that Shadow wasn't the type to pick up fights just because. That was more like a thing Sonic would do but she knew that you can learn a lot from a person just by fighting with them. Shadow didn't want to know how strong he was, but if he was worthy of his trust.

Silver took a moment to look at Shadow, up and down and he just sighed as he went back to his seat next to Amy. "Sorry I don't fight with old people."

Shadow was ready to smack that kid on the head right then and there. But Amy's sudden comment interrupted his action.

"Oh, well technically Shadow is more 50 years old!"

"Amy!"

"That explains why he is so grumpy."

"I was time frozen! I didn't develop-mentally nor physically! I am still young!"

Amy has never seen Shadow fume so bad as to this moment. And to be honest it was actually kinda funny.

"That explains why you are so short then."

Ouch, that hurt.

Silver had won Amy's respect. She had to admit that he was pretty optimistic for someone whose future was destroyed. It must be horrible to live in a future where you see your friends being zombified and can't do anything about it.

Wait a second.

"Hey Silver...did the ones who have a diseased in your future... did they looked, I don't know... kinda metallic for you?" Amy interrupted the boys. Silver took a moment to look at her. "Yes... how did you know that?"

Click.

"Years ago, during the time of the Resistance, Dr. Eggman created a biological weapon. It was a disease that just by contact with it, the subject would be "zombified" on the moment. Their most stand out characteristic was their metallic fur."

"That's probably it then! I just have to find it the substance and destroy it!" Silver said with relieve in his voice as his course of the route was finally taken the right place.

"It's not as easy as that." Amy began. "We tried everything to destroy it, but nothing worked. We couldn't even find an antidote. So we decided to hide all the substance we found in a remote place. Somewhere no one knows about but...Tails."

"Tails? That fox boy?." Shadow said but he turned around to face a bush. He could swear he had heard something coming.

"Wait a moment. Tails? Fox? You are not talking about Tails Miles Prower right?" Silver looked at Amy then at Shadow who was still looking toward the woods.

"Yes, that one."

"I can't believe it, he is a legend! I would like to meet him very much!" Silver grabbed Amy's hand as to beg her, he looked like a small child which Amy found extremely cute.

"So as to right now, we should look for Tails and ask him where the substance is. I am almost sure that whoever wants to find it, is also somehow invoked with the death of the Commander, Amy."

"Wait, Amy?-" Silver wanted to continue but was terribly interrupted by an explosion on their bonfire.

Just like that, the three hedgehogs were surrounded by more than 15 G.U.N agents, all ready to take them out. Shadow was sure that he could recognize most of them if it wasn't that everyone was wearing something to cover their faces. Shadow was never really found to do that. All though if his supervisors would ask him to, due to safety reasons, he always denies it. But right now it wasn't the time to think about the past. If they decided to become his enemy, then he will fight like he always has.

Silver noticed how Amy made a hammer appeared out of thin air and he almost lost it. The inner fanboy in him took over.

"YOU ARE THAT AMY ROSE? YOU ARE THE LEADER OF LEADERS? GREAT HAMMER HOLDER AND EVIL SLAYER?! YOU ARE THE ONLY WHO WE ACTUALLY HAVE HISTORY RECORDS OF!"

And that when everyone attack.

"Wow the future really does like to blow out everything out of portions" that's what Amy wanted to say but was more worried about the G.U.N who was in front of him.

And then he wasn't.

He had flown out of the scene, landing on a three. Amy turned around to find Silver hold three soldiers on the air.

"WHAT KIND OF POWER IS THAT, ARE YOU CRAZY? PUT THEM DOWN!" Amy screamed at him as she rubbed towards him.

"Yes man!" Silver saluted Amy in a militia manner and as he did, he left all three soldiers land on each other, hurting themselves more than their target.

"We got no time for this!" Shadow grabbed Amy and picked her up. "Follow me!" He said to Silver and in a flash, Shadow was out of sight to him.

"WAIT I AM NOT AS FAST!!!" Silver used his psychokinesis on him to try and fly faster and although he could spot a black figure in the distance, it was still really hard to keep up, especially during night time.

If there was one thing Silver hated the most, was to be left behind.

"AAAHHHHH, FUC-"

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.

.

Now what? They had ended up in somewhere that Shadow knew about. They had been running all night, for Shadow it wasn't a problem but he was starting to get worried as he hasn't seen any white figure following from behind. He stopped for a little to let Amy stretch her legs as well.

"Where are we heading to now?". Amy asked as she stretched.

"Pavlopetri. G.U.N's elite Mechanics team resides there. No doubt that fox boy is there."

Shadow then felt a presence coming. "Talking about boys." He turned around and there he was, Silver giving his last push to keep up with the black hedgehog.

"Don't ever. Do that. AGAIN." Silver threaten as he landed on his knees, he would kill for a cup of water and some food right now.

"If you can't keep up, then don't tag along. Don't worry we will save your future." Shadow walked away as he kept an eye on Amy who was helping Shadow to get up.

"No! I must do it myself!"

Silver stood by himself, refusing Amy's aid. Shadow had to admit that his boy reminded him of someone. He sighed, "We are 30 minutes away from Pavlopetri. If you still want the hero's job well...it waits for you over there."

Pavlopetri was one of the biggest city in Mobius. With more than 7 million in population, it was no wonder why G.U.N had decided to put one of their biggest team in the city. It was going to hard to get into the tower and the three hedgehogs knew that. Before going into the city they needed to make a plan. However, the best they could at the moment was to sit down on the outskirts of the city.

"I am going in," Shadow said as he stood up from the grass. The strong wind coming their way.

"But Shadow-"

"I am the only who knows how their system works. I am the best spy G.U.N has ever had. I am sure I can a couple of minutes to talk to Tails."

"But I want to meet him!", Silver whined. "Besides we are a team! We have to stick together."

"I run better solo." Shadow turned around and looked at Silver. At this point, Shadow wasn't playing any games.

"Well, I won't stay here and do nothing! I am coming with you whether you like it or not!" Silver stood up and smiled at Shadow, but what he got instead was a dark look.

"If complications happen, I might not be able to take care of you."

"I can take care of myself."

"I had many trained agents tell me those same words...must of them are dead now." Shadow looked at Silver's disappointed face and continued. "Your time to shine would come, don't pressure it."

"Its alright Silver, you can stay with me! Actually, I think I have an idea on how to keep us busy while Shadow is gone!", Amy said as she comforted him.

"So," Silver looked at Shadow one more time, "I have to stay and take care of Amy, uh?"

"No," Shadow gave him an empathetic look. "Amy is gonna stay here and take care of you."

"Wait, what?"

"Don't misunderstand the situation kid. I am not taking Amy with me because she is staying to take care of you."

Silver thought that that was more like it. Even if there was no clear record of what happened 200 years ago, the orphanage and the friends he made there would always talk about the Resistance Heros. Amy Rose, Resistance Captain, one the strongest. Rumors have it that her hammer is so powerful that her enemies would fear for their eyes whenever they encountered her. Of course, there were others like Sonic the Hedgehog, Tails Miles Prower, Knuckles the Edquina and Shadow the Hedgehog who later on would become the-

"Anyways, I should get going. I'll ask for information and leave as soon as I can. If I don't come back in two hours, then leave this place as soon as you can. Look for Rouge or Omega."

This time, Shadow looked at Amy. Wind blowing on through her quills, the lights of the city shining on her head. "Will you wait for me?"

"Always."

Shadow smiled and was about to take in for a run but stopped as soon as he felt Amy grabbed onto his arm. "Thank you, Mr. Angry."

"Don't thank me yet, Mrs. Angry.", Shadow smirked, and gently removed his arm out of her grasp.

"Um... am I interrupting something.?"

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.

.

It had been ten minutes and Silver and Amy were only appreciating the fact that Shadow had left. "Well, I think we should start looking for some provisions, or something." Silver turned around and began to look at his surroundings.

"No, we are gonna do something better," Amy said.

"What do mean?"

"We are stealing a Chaos Emerald."

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.

.

"Didn't your friend said to stay on the outskirts of the city?"

"If we get this Chaos Emerald, then it will be easier to travel around and for us to defend ourselves." Amy and Silver were currently on the air conducts of a top security area. Last time Amy checked, all seven Chaos Emeralds were placed in different locations around the world. One of them and the only one she knew its whereabouts was the green emerald that lied securely on the northern outskirts of the city of Pavlopetri. How did she know? During the time period of the war with Eggman when Sonic was presumed dead, Amy decided to embark on a solo adventure to find the Chaos Emeralds to help revive Sonic somehow. She found three and after the war, she gave them to G.U.N. to take care of them. As a thank you, G.U.N. gave her the location of them.

"I can't believe that the Chaos Emeralds are real. I would only hear stories about them when I was a kid." Silver added.

"How come you came back to the future if not by the Chaos Emeralds?" Amy asked as she tried to talk as low as she could.

"We used something my people called the Phantom Ruby... We inserted that into an old time machine, we didn't it was going to work. But it did and here I am."

Amy noticed a bright light coming from the end of the air conduct and headed towards it.

"Anyways, I don't see the point in getting the Chaos Emerald. Legend says that only descendants of the Dark King are able to control the power of Chaos. And of course Sonic the Hedgehog but he is just a children story."

Alright, Amy had to stop Silver on his tracks. " Does the future ever say anything accurate about the past?"

"Don't blame me! Before I was born, there was a period of time in which the Superior declared all history records as illegal and they were all burned into ashes. Teachers aren't even allowed to teach history." Silver whispered in hopes that Amy would be able to hear his voice.

"That sounds horrible...who ruled before the Superior took over?" Amy asked as she looked back to him. She was right in front of the ventilation door but waited for the last guard to leave the room.

"We don't know for sure. But people say that out the first ruler was The Dark King and after that, his descendants took over. Some say that the Superior killed all of his descendants during the Great War. But honestly, the only thing my people have ever know is as 'Leader' is The Superior."

Amy could see how Silver's voice had changed on perspective. She felt sorry for the boy, she held his hand to try and give him some type of comfort. "We will fix this Silver. I promise."

"You know," Silver began. "My people have the hope that one day, one of the descendants of the Dark King will come back and claim his rightful place as the King and with that, bring a new era of peace. I used to believe that when I was a kid, but eventually I lost hope on that ever happening. Instead, I wanted to become a hero and take the matter into my own hands."

"We won't fail."

Amy then opened the ventilation door with a kick. and landed softly thanks to Silver's psychokinesis.

"Oh, but by the way, "Amy added quickly as she walked towards the Chaos Emerald. You were right, Sonic the Hedgehog can use the power of the Chaos Emeralds. But so, can Shadow."

"WAIT A SECOND, ARE YOU SAYING THAT SONIC AND SHADOW THE HEDGEHOG ARE ACTUALLY REAL?!"

With that, the alarms went on. Amy didn't think much, as she was fast to break the glass in which the Green Chaos Emerald was inside of with her hammer.

"You really need to learn how to control yourself, you know that!"

Silver had to admit that she was right. But he couldn't control it, hearing that his childhood heroes were alive and actually real was too much for him to handle. He smiled as they both began to climb up the air conduct again.

What a great time to be alive.

.

.

.

It was pretty easy to enter the base. He had to admit that the lasers in the air conduit system was a nice touch but he honestly expected more of the 'elite' Mechanic Team. Maybe he was just getting too good on this.

But one thing Shadow couldn't do was to know where everything was. He knocked down one the G.U.N agents and took his uniform to go by unseen. After all, there was a lot of security cameras and if one of the officers were to see a black hedgehog with red stripes on the building, well... it will be pretty much end game for him.

"This new project we are working on is killing me." Shadow heard an employee say as he walked onto the employees' dining room. Firstly, to get information about the whereabouts of the yellow fox and secondly, to get a small cup of coffee.

"Tell me about it. I don't know what Mr.Prower is thinking to do what that travel machine." Said the employee to his coworker who was eating as well.

Shadow grabbed a plastic cup from the dispenser and waited for his black coffee to come out of the machine.

"You gotta admire him tho, spending all day on the F-5 must be a pain in the butt. I mean come on, he is the Mechanic's Team main director! You have a nice office on F-7, use it!"

Sometimes Shadow thought that his job was way too easy.

The black coffee came out of the machine successfully and he didn't hesitate even a second to take a big gulp out of the still boiling liquid. Just how he liked it.

He was about to walk out of the room but the two friends caught his attention. "Hey, you!"

Shadow turned around, hoping that he was covered enough to not show any indication that he was Shadow the Hedgehog.

"This is the dining room for the Mechanic's Team members ONLY... Agents are on F-2"

Shadow took a moment to look at the black wolf in front of him. His attire similar to the one Tails was so known for. Googles, boots, a belt around his waist that contained every key possible and of course that dirty look.

"I am sorry I just got transferred, I'll leave now." Shadow turned around to face the door just to once again to be interrupted on the act. "Transfer from where?"

"Capital Mobius."

"You are from the Capital? Oh, have you met Shadow the Hedgehog? I heard he is located there, he was the top spy until he switched sides and helped that pink hedgehog kill G.U.N

He wanted to just nod and keep going on his day. However, it had been a while since he had heard any news about G.U.N's current stance. Maybe it wouldn't be a bad idea to make a little bit of conversation about the topic.

"I saw him a couple of times, he was always busy so I never talked to him."

"Maybe it was better that way, I always thought he was too edgy. Now it turns out he is crazy too...Don't surprise me too much actually."

This was going to be a long talk.

And it was.

Strangely enough, Shadow had made two friends that day. And he learned two important things. G.U.N had ordered all intelligence theme to work on a new project, a Time Machine and experiment a new-found rock, which they did not know anything about.

Also that Amy and he were now topping the list of the most wanted criminals by G.U.N.

But he already knew that.

Shadow jumped into the elevator and pressed F-5. While the elevator was going up, he thought of the first thing he would say to Tails. He knew that they didn't have the best relationship.

Right now, the best bet he could get is that the Rabbit girl had told him about their situation already. With that, earn his trust enough so he tells Shadow the information he needed.

He stepped out of the elevator and walked himself around the hallway. He looked left to right, trying to spot behind the glass doors the famous two tail boy. Weirdly enough, there were no other workers passing by the hallway. Shadow didn't give too much thought about and kept looking. A few minutes passed and finally, he found what was looking for.

Tails was looking diligently on something that Shadow couldn't tell what it was. Moving back and forth, reading papers, screwing nails again and again just to unscrew them and start again. He didn't notice Shadow's presence until he made himself known.

"We need to talk."

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.

.

"I already have enough trouble as it is... now you are asking me to give the location of a biological weapon that doesn't exist?"

Tails closed with the key the door to the lab and went back to his seat, where he began writing again on a piece of paper.

"I know it's too much to ask, but you have to believe me when I say this is all for Amy." Shadow placed both of his hands down on the table, mask down to his chin to show that he was being serious about all of it.

"Your worst mistake has always been underestimating your enemy."

Tails then pointed at his ears and that when Shadow knew it. It was already odd enough that they didn't have security cameras around the room nor the halls, but one thing they had for sure was mini microphones, hidden in all over the building probably.

"I think I know how far I can go." Shadow tried playing it cool, as he saw Tails passing down the paper he was previously writing on before. A clear note was written on it:

"I pressed the button that's under the table to call G.U.N agents to come to this floor already. You have less than 2 minutes to get out. Sorry that I am not able to help you directly, but they have Cream, and I must finish this time machine as soon as possible so they can release her. If you really with Amy then tell her this:

"There's nothing we can do but watch"

Shadow looked up to Tails to let him known that he had understood. He folded the paper and made his personal mission to deliver it to Amy as soon as possible.

The only thing now was to get out of that place as soon as possible.

Piece of cake.

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.

Shadow looked around and panicked as he didn't see a clue of Amy and Silver. Just where were they? He was close to starting screaming their names but soon approaching footsteps followed.

"Shadow! You are back!"

Amy run towards him and wanted to hug him but decided that right now it wasn't the time. They were being followed by G.U.N for stealing the Chaos Emerald and she still didn't know how to tell Shadow without him getting angry.

"Tails gave me this, he said you would know by reading this."

He handed over the letter to Amy and he gave a look to Silver. Who shakes nervously at the sight of him staring.

"I can't believe it! They have Cream!."

"We have to hurry up and decider who's behind all of this if you want her free. So remember, what did the fox boy meant by "There's nothing we can do but watch."

Amy handed over the paper to Silver who began reading while Amy was in deep thought. It was one of these days that he wished he had paid attention to ancient literature. Although he could understand Amy and her black friend, the writing system and grammar were a bit different from the one in the future. He thankfully could understand the message within.

"I got it!"

Silver and Shadow turned to face Amy as they waited for an answer.

"Tails told me that the first time I saw him after Sonic 'died'. It must be there somewhere."

"Where?"

"Well I don't remember exactly, it's been a long time but we have the Chaos Emerald! That should work right?"

"You have what?" Shadow said surprised.

"I'll explain later, we have to leave. I'll think of the place on my mind, Shadow you conduct the Chaos Control."

Amy could have sworn that she heard Silver's neck break in two at how hard he looked at Shadow.

"WAIT! HE'S THE SHADOW THE HEDGEHOG?"

"All right, everyone grab into me," Shadow said as Amy handed him the green Chaos Emerald. Amy held his hand and Silver's as well.

"ARE YOU JUST TWO GOING TO IGNORE ME?"

"Chaos Control!"

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.

The place was dusty and rusty, just liked Amy remember but older. The three hedgehogs successfully tele-transported to the place Amy was thinking of.

"This was Tails' first laboratory after we thought Sonic was dead, I came here to see how he was doing. Eggman had begun his attack on us and Tails just told me "There's nothing we can do but watch."

Shadow walked towards the big containers. And saw them carefully being stored and labeled as "extremely dangerous."

"So you began the resistance?" Silver asked still admiring the pink hedgehog. "Well, me and a red echidna I know."

"I found it, track Communication system, I'll be waiting."

Amy and Silver looked at each other then at Shadow, confused.

"Shadow, to who are you talking to?"

Amy's voice began to break, she didn't want to believe what her eyes were seeing.

"I think it is obvious enough...Chaos Control!"

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.

Amy and Silver had lost track of time. The last thing they can remember was being knocked out by Shadow's Chaos Control.

Amy saw blurry at first, and let a few seconds pass to let her eyes adjust to the present darkness. Everything was just like before, but Shadow who was looking at the now tied up couple in front of them.

"So everything was a lie?"

Amy turned her head to look at Shadow, still not believing that the black hedgehog had indeed betrayed her.

"G.U.N needed the location of this forgotten biological weapon. We were aware that Tails was the only one who had that information, but we couldn't falsely accuse a G.U.N member of good reputation of murder. People would lose faith in us. So we trusted that in the right circumstances, Tails would eventually speak up about the location to someone he trusted...that's when you come into place."

Shadow then laid his back on the coldness of the metal wall, very close to the containers that had that very dangerous liquid inside of them.

"So, everything...from the very beginning...you wanting to help me, your kindness, everything was a lie?"

"I had a mission to complete, I am just doing my job."

"So, even the murder of the G.U.N's Commander...you planned everything,"

"Absolutely, all of that was fake...he is actually on his way over here to claim the containers."

Amy felt her throat going dry as all the tears were begging to let out. But right now it wasn't the time, she looked at Silver and checked if he had any serious injuries. He was breathing, his head down, at least the fact that he was alright made her feel calm.

"If you start crying, I'll end you."

Amy looked one more time at Shadow, she breathed and maybe right now it wasn't the perfect time to say it, but she did.

"I like you Shadow."

Shadow's eyes widen in surprise at the sudden confession. He waited for Amy to continue and she did.

"You kind acts, the way you worry about others, the way you make me feel when I am around you...All of that made me fall in love with you...but everything was a lie. And so, my love for you as well."

Shadow relaxed his hands and very confidently began to walk towards the pink hedgehog. For the first time in her life, Amy was afraid of Shadow.

He bent down in one knee and forcefully grabbed Amy's cheeks, making her look directly at his eyes. Her skin shivered by the contact, and Amy really thought that Shadow was about to steal a kiss from him. She closed her eyes waiting for it to happen...but it never did.

Instead, a dash of blue flew across the room. Amy could recognize those green eyes anywhere, and if looks could kill, Shadow would be dead by now.

There he was, the known world hero, the old blue friend...

Sonic the Hedgehog.

.

.

.

Next Chapter: https://another-sonic-blog.tumblr.com/post/185967108465/the-dark-prince-chapter-five-fake-it-until-you

The Dark Prince: Chapter Five: Fake It Until You Make It

Previous Chapter: https://another-sonic-blog.tumblr.com/post/185966895240/let-amy-go-shadow-it-was-raining-heavily-in

The Dark Prince: Chapter Three: My Old Blue Friend

*The Rebellion is a group of people who haven't been "zombi-fed" in the future. They try their best to keep themselves isolated while they try to raise up an army to overthrow the Superior.  

A/N: wow almost 5K words!

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Acoustic Guitar Can Be Fun for Everyone

www.melodiamusik.com/gitar Introducing Acoustic Guitar Yamaha guitars are excellent performers the majority of the Yamaha guitars are in fact excelling greatly in every area of performance. They are descendants of stringed instruments that were found in a variety of cultures thousands and thousands of years ago. If you wish to find some special and top superior guitar, then Yamaha is the correct alternative. The point is, gibbons are the very best. Repair or replace any terrible wires if you're able to achieve that. The cost of the guitar doesn't determine its worth. The string quality gives you the ability to play comfortably. A couple of the strongest reasons to get an acoustic guitar are user-friendliness and price. You are also able to get a steel string acoustic that has allowed around and it's better for experienced guitar players. Blues and country arrive at the fore. You will be far more likely to practice and play it if you prefer it. 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Attractive pickups demand a perpetual magnet to get the job done. Yes, it truly is generally agreed they are simpler to play, mainly simply because the strings are a lot simpler to fret. Go from gentle to digging and it'll respond. Its string length is ideal and there are not any sharp ends on the fret that makes it a cozy instrument. Then you need to learn where you need to be putting your fingers. The droning sound Soloing can be especially challenging once you are it, and there is absolutely no band to back you. You'll also be taught on how best to guarantee the sound is crystal clear and precise when employing the greatest acoustic guitar for beginners. Doing this will create a really muffled, choppy sound. Some models have it stamped on the interior of the cover of the guitar, close to the neck. Great tuning machines make tuning easier and will help save you a little time and trouble whenever you are tuning your guitar. Modern-day guitar shaped instruments weren't seen until the Renaissance era where the human body and size started to take a guitar-like form. You'll also learn a great bit about notes and scales in the practice. There's always a feeling of confusion for each beginner when it comes to deciding on the very best guitar for themselves. Also, a great technique to become used to is pressing back on the strings with enough force to acquire an excellent, clean sound. Acoustic Guitar Help! Getting familiarized with your guitar is the very first step towards getting better. With the most suitable option, you can make sure that you have guitars that could match your financial plan. The great thing about purchasing a guitar is you can have a lot of sites for research. 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You must always change all your strings at the exact same time, so that they're about at exactly the same age and high quality of sound. All you have to do is upgrade the strings from time to time. When it would be low, it would be simple that you press on the strings so you would have the ability to touch on the fret. The way by which a guitar string vibrates is actually a bit more complicated. Acoustic guitar strings are definitely the most important portion of the instrument. You also ought to replace old guitar strings and wash the fretboard at regular intervals to make sure that the guitar proceeds to sound good. Type of Guitar The form of guitar, obviously, is vital in deciding what sort of strings you need to buy. Virtually everybody can learn to play acoustic guitar. Acoustic guitars are excellent for learning especially for beginners. Versatile in design, the electro acoustic guitar is famous for its smooth sound and highly effective projection. The guitar and the ukulele have the exact same shape, and the ukulele resembles a little guitar. When you first start out to learn to play acoustic guitar, you'll probably see that your fingers hurt. When you learn to play acoustic guitar, expressing yourself using the music you adore can be accomplished. The acoustic guitar is among the most well-known instruments on earth. He is the most important instrument that you'll need. Among the very best travel and recording acoustic guitars you can purchase. Perhaps you have some guitar abilities and simply want to make some excess cash on the side. Finding out how to play the guitar may be fantastic and intriguing experience. It is essential that you check it out physically so you may have a feel of what the guitar appears like and feels like when playing. You could look at Acoustic Guitar Money from a distinctive discounted link below. Parlour-This manner of guitar is one of the smallest in body size that you can get. The option of guitar you get is based on the form of music you wish to make and still you mean to have. The Secret to Acoustic Guitar If you are a newcomer to shopping for guitars, then it's even more critical that you learn everything you can before you make your very first purchase. So you have finally made a decision to put money into your fantasy guitar. Actually, the guitar is similar to an ensemble! Acoustic guitars are exactly what you have to unlock your musical talent. Many acoustic guitars are in reality electro-acoustic, meaning they may be employed with an amplifier. If you wish to get a decent acoustic guitar at a very low cost. If you're obtaining a guitar for a beginner, it's important to realize that you want to take into account several things. Probably the main component that you would need to take into consideration when deciding on a guitar would be the action. You do not actually need to have an expensive new guitar. When it is after 1975, it's an Asian guitar. If you would like to find some special and top high quality guitar, then Yamaha is the proper choice. Now, it's only up to you to choose which guitar to select and make it your next musical companion. As you start to learn to play acoustic guitar, your ability won't be quite as polished and your very first guitar will probably take a little abuse since it's still true that you have to learn much about playing strategies. If your initial acoustic guitar isn't the ideal option for you, then it can dramatically decrease the enjoyment you will receive out of your instrument. As guitars can be played by kids and adults alike, a selection of sizes are readily available. Acoustic guitars are normally simple to transport, but if you want to travel with your guitar frequently a three-quarter sized instrument might be more manageable. The Yamaha FG800 Solid top acoustic guitar proves you don't have to spend a lot to produce great music.

It's true, you are going to need a guitar. Actually it is best to use a used guitar. Whether you're on the lookout for an acoustic guitar to learn on or would prefer a replacement or upgrade, you will discover thousands of new and secondhand choices. Deciding on the most effective acoustic guitar is contingent on the individual player and their requirements. Many people believe the guitar and the ukulele are similar, but they're also different. Clearly, a guitar which has an ebony neck is likely to cost over a rosewood neck. Determine the money which you are eager to spend on the guitar as it also impacts the form of guitar you become. Have a look at our toy guitars so you can receive the kids involved too! Although selecting the best acoustic guitar under 500 bucks appears to be a difficult call, it's really very tricky to go wrong.