#we’re human not perfect machines and i think being able to make and learn from mistakes without being completely socially ostracized

[sinistersuns]

i think we gotta be more careful about falling into the trap of placing heaps of blame on the most vulnerable groups around us because it’s easier, emotionally or otherwise, than going after those in power. like i mostly talk about transandrophobia right now and how transmascs get so much shit thrown at us because were easier to attack than cis people, and i’ve seen people do the same thing to transfems and NBs too. to me it’s extra disappointing when it’s someone who is vocally supportive of transmascs doing it (like generalizing all transfems as being hostile to transmascs/being transandrophobic). it’s of course important to talk about inter community issues and point out harmful behaviors and ideologies when we see them, and talk about how someone’s life experience might lead them to be that way, but singling out one type of trans person as The Culprit is not helpful and just feels like it further drives a wedge into our community. we may be able to perpetuate aspects of the transphobic systems cis people put in place, but none of us are responsible for them and we don’t benefit from them, past surface level “acceptance” from people who’d be more comfortable if one type of trans person or all of us didn’t exist at all

[sleephyjhs]

When You’re Expecting (Taehyung Headcanon)

pairing: taehyung x pregnant!reader

warnings: mention of fertility & pregnancy complications

note: i’ve been craving to write a bts x pregnancy series for a while so here we go !! if there’s a specific member you’d like to see next, shoot me an ask :)

m.list

FINDING OUT

even before finding out you were pregnant, you both had so much love for your child

there was nothing either of you could have wanted more than a baby

it was always at the forefront of your mind how much you wanted a little human of your own

it was approaching a year since you began trying seriously

a few false hopes and two miscarriages later, fertility drugs were looking to improve the chances of conceiving

the raging hormones which came with the drugs were all worth the positive test

early september - sickness had hung around your throat for days

headaches lasted longer than usual, and crying at the most mundane things had become an unwelcome habit

in the bathroom cabinet, you’d collected a small stockpile of electronic and stick pregnancy tests

one of them would eventually show positive, right?

taehyung sat on the bathroom tiles with you

waiting two minutes felt closer to waiting two months

he crossed his legs, bouncing his knees impatiently

your knees came to your chin; high hopes weighed heavily on your heart

the alarm set on his phone beeped quietly

your heartbeat rose suddenly to your throat

taehyung reached out for your hand as you turned to read the results

two blue lines - as clear as day

they became less clear as your eyes coated with thick, salty tears

he began to chuckle as his happiness trickled down his cheeks

“we did it baby! we’re gonna have a baby!” he whispered, choked up by his own anticipation

no words were left swirling in your mind

your jaw hung open as though the hinges were faulty

shakily, you lifted the electronic test to triple check

pregnant.

as you crashed into taehyung’s open arms, memories of the past loomed in your mind

it was only inevitable

a positive test was a familiar joy to you both

however this familiar joy had only ever been followed by crippling devastation

as much as you tried not to think about it, you couldn’t help but retain maternal caution

however, this time also felt different

taehyung’s spirit, your spirit - it was as though fate didn’t want to disappoint you any more

someone out there decided it was finally your time to grow a mini human to bring into the world

of course, no time was wasted in contacting the maternity clinic

seeing your baby on a screen was now a top priority

just to see their little head, maybe even hear their heartbeat

just to know they were okay

just to know you were keeping them cosy and safe, that’s all you needed

taehyung couldn’t hold his excitement

from leaving the house to reaching the hospital, his toothy grin never wiped from his cheeks

he never said anything at the time since his main focus was always on comforting you

but losing his babies near enough tore him apart

even when you tried to comfort him, taehyung restricted himself just to protect your wellbeing

of course, the worse had already crossed his mind

but it wouldn’t get the better of him

it couldn’t.

you soon learned you were already 6 weeks pregnant

the midwife had to point out where your little baby was hanging out; they were such a tiny thing after all

briefly, you took the opportunity to hear their heartbeat

it was faint over the machine, but fast

there really was a life within you.

“there’s something else, if you just look over here...” the midwife prompted, turning the monitor so you could grasp a better view

taehyung leaned slightly over your chest to peer closely at the smaller monochrome screen

with the mouse, she circled a second bean shaped figure

“the fertility drugs increase the chance of twins. looks like you guys got lucky!”

twins. you were having twins.

THE PREGNANCY

like with most pregnancies, you were advised to wait until the 12 week milestone to begin announcing your impending delivery

and even though he understood the importance of patience right now, taehyung could hardly contain his excitement

it didn’t help that a little bump had already begun to grow

keeping a secret was much more difficult when the evidence was near impossible to hide

already, taehyung spent early mornings talking to his little angels

telling them stories he seemingly made up on the spot

or even borrowing some from his own childhood

“you know they can’t hear you yet? it’s about 7 weeks until they’ll be able to, honey.”

“i know, i’m just practising for when they can.”

of course, you wouldn’t admit that you did the same when you were alone

you attended more midwife appointments than other expectant mothers might

the pair of you much preferred being on the safer side

in the car, when on a quieter, less congested road, taehyung often reached over to cradle your still-growing bump with a free hand

you slotted your fingertips between his for additional sappiness

“you two have so many people waiting for you here, hmm? many people are already so in love with you both. me and mummy included.”

on a sleepless night, you’d made a small pact with tae

it was a rash decision, but sincere nonetheless

“no matter what, they are always going to know how wanted they were. always.”

taehyung hardly needed reminding of this, but it was still a weight off your shoulders

as you tried to conceive, the pregnancy diet had already been implemented into your daily routines

however now that you were carrying two precious babies, there really would be no more ‘cheat’ days for you

no more extra half cups of coffee on slower mornings

although you usually took over the role of head chef in the house, taehyung dedicated extra effort into preparing you both healthy and yummy foods

sautéd rice with green vegetables and lean meat/tofu appeared to be his go-to

but you still opted to supervise just in case

finally being able to announce your pregnancy was another heavy weight lifted from your mind

the other members were over the moon for you both

particularly when they reminded themselves of the struggles you had experienced previously

and also remembering the utter devastation of their taehyung when he had to break it to them

all of them kept their eye out for little gifts and outfits

each week, taehyung came home with a new stack of pale rompers or neutral-tones teething toys

these babies would have the best uncles; at least that much you could be certain of

announcing your pregnancy on social media was a looming task, but one he was determined to pull off perfectly

for filler content between schedules, the members had been asked to film a 5 minute vlog of their daily life

well, what a perfect opportunity!

towards the end, taehyung made sure to include some shots of your now protruding bump overlaid with some more vintage camera settings

safe to say, that day you had broken the internet

love, congratulations and blessings poured in from every corner of the earth

a few comments complimenting how much pregnancy suited you touched you especially

self image is commonly effected by the progression of pregnancy, and you were no exception to that

although it was amazing how your body grew and made a little home for your tiny babies, it was still quite strange to see yourself changing so quickly

your favourite clothes didn’t fit around your doubled bump anymore

and your skin seemed to hate sharing nutrients with two extra people

but for the days where you struggled to love yourself, taehyung easily filled in the gaps for you

sneaking up behind you in the bathroom

(although the mirror kinda gave him away)

he’d wrap his arms around your just-moisturised bump and carefully rest his chin on your shoulder

“tell me all your worries honey.”

you gushed over how much you missed wearing your favourite jackets

and how strange it was to look at yourself in such a new and confusing way

“i know it’s normal, and i know i have to do it for them. but i guess it’s just weird - i don’t look like myself anymore”

he sighed and planted a kiss on a spot of bare skin

those small kisses still tickled you like they always had

“well, you definitely look different,”

you really hoped there was a second part to that sentence, mostly for tae’s own good

“but why does that have to be bad? not gonna lie, it actually kinda makes you hotter. maybe we should make babies more often!”

“make~?”

LABOUR AND DELIVERY

originally, you had wanted to try and stick to the natural route for as long as you could

but after a few contractions, that idea was immediately out of the window

to help steady yourself and wait out the pain, you held onto the kitchen island and swayed to your own pace

eventually, taehyung joined you

copying the same movements while timing your contractions

“they really must be desperate to come out, huh?”

“well do you think they could hurry it up a bit?!”

the pair of you had been prepared for this for over a month

the hospital bag was ready by the door with all of your essentials packed tightly inside

not forgetting the pots of instant ramen taehyung insisted he must bring in case of an emergency

just as he was readying to back out of the driveway, taehyung took a mental stock check of everything packed in the back

“do you think we have everything?”

“i love you but stop talking please.”

thankfully, he understood well that the sheer pain made you cranky

so long as he assured himself that it was ‘just the contractions’, he’d be just fine

as much as he couldn’t wait to announce he was about to become a father to everyone, he kept himself grounded when walking you to the maternity ward

one corridor in and you’d suggested that a wheelchair might be a better mode of transport

breathlessness and contractions didn’t sound like a favourable mix to you

the assessment of your fast dilation granted you an immediate spot in the labour ward

you’d picked this suite specially due to its expansive space

the option of a birthing pool was still available if you so needed it, but the mood lighting and access to aromatherapy was what attracted you to the room in the first place

a serene paradise for your angels to be born into

it was perfect

taehyung explored while you adjusted to your new surroundings

of course, it didn’t take him long to find the birthing ball

“what’s the difference between a yoga ball and a birthing ball?”

there obviously was none, but you took a few seconds to try and be smart with him

“well, sit on that and you might have a baby the size of a watermelon come out of you soon.”

taehyung cradled his torso and pulled a shocked expression, which was enough to make you giggle and cause another contraction

less than a few hours passed, and you had already attempted to scream the building down once or twice

“get these babies out of me. no i’m serious, i need them out.”

realising your deadpan expression, taehyung soon attended to you at the head of your bed

stroking your slightly sweaty head and patting a ice cold flannel on your clammy forehead

he braced himself for a crushing hand grip which came about sooner than he’d prepared for

you weren’t the biggest fan of commotion, and so being surrounded by nurses and doctors was close to being your worst nightmare

taehyung focused his voice into your ear, trying to minimise the tension coming from below your pelvis

his motivational words were broken up by short bursts of pushes

many of which were followed by a string of curse words which just slipped out

and then, there it was.

the first piercing cry belted across the room

a tear or two may have happened to slip from your eyes

finally the moment you’d waited for, nearly two years in the making, was here

the first of two, a little girl who already had a head full of the most luscious black hair

taehyung wanted to hold back his happy tears in order to show some kind of strength

but you and him both knew he’d never hold it back for long

within the space of 4 minutes, the second baby was born into the world.

but this time, there was no immediate cry

the whole world seemed to slow down in that moment as you waited

and waited

midwifes gathered around the new infant, looking for any kind of obstruction

but, soon enough, your son said his first hello to the world

[dilfgmancoolatta]

can yuo write angsty freelatta........-benryphobic

@benryphobic

Gordon looks down at the half-eaten pizza, his appetite almost completely gone. He was initially suspicious of it- as much as he trusted Tommy, he had no idea what Mr. Coolatta’s intentions were. But after seeing everyone else dig in (well, everyone who had made it out of the boss battle alive), he let himself give in. It was horrible, but horrible in the way that most Chuck E. Cheese pizza generally is. Mr. Coolatta pulled out all the stops for this one, huh?

He sighs, gently nudging his paper plate away. He’s not really sure what to do. He doubts Mr. Coolatta would react well to being asked when they could leave- he seems really protective of his son.

Gordon decides to get some fresh air. Quietly pushing in his chair, he sneaks away from the group, Mr. Coolatta and Bubby seemingly distracting by a story Dr. Coomer was telling from the Engineering department.

He breathes a sigh of relief once the door closes behind him. He looks up at the sky as he slides down the wall. It’s strikingly beautiful, yet chilling. It’s a sky Gordon’s never seen before, with a large spiral galaxy, that definitely wasn’t the Milky Way, taking up much of it. Planets upon planets and stars upon stars that Gordon couldn’t recognize.

“That’s Andromeda o- up there, by the way.”

Gordon jolts, feeling his heart rate spike, before laughing. “Tommy, don’t scare me like that, man. Kinda still on edge.”

“Oh-” Tommy covers his mouth. “I’m sorry, Mr. Freeman, I thought you knew I was out here.”

Gordon waves him off. “It’s not a big deal. Just- Thought I should let you know.” Tommy nods. “Andromeda’s a lot bigger than I remember.”

“Mmhm! I told my dad once that Andromeda w- is my favorite galaxy. And after that, he always made sure Andromeda was the biggest thing in the night sky in his pocket dimensions.”

“That’s… honestly pretty sweet.”

Tommy nods, sitting down next to Gordon. “My Dad’s a good guy, even if he is pretty weird sometimes. Though I guess I can’t talk.”

“I don’t think you’re weird, Tommy.”

Tommy looks at him in disbelief.

“Mr. Freeman, I wouldn’t be so sure-”

“Listen, we’ve got a lab grown human, a man who’s been cloned, like, 1000 times, and then there’s you. I don’t think the identity of your dad makes you weird.”

Tommy looks like he wants to say something, but seemingly decides against it. Instead, he decides on a simple “Thank you.”

The two sit in silence for a few moments, staring up into the night sky.

“Did something happen at the party?” Tommy asks. “I hope my dad wasn’t being weird about the Chuck E. Cheese debate-thing.”

Gordon shakes his head. “No, I just needed some fresh air. Gordon sensory overload time was coming up, I could feel it. Wasn’t that hungry either.”

Tommy nods. “I understand. That… happens to me too. The only reason I could handle the arcade inside is because my dad makes the machines quieter-” He frowns and scrunches his nose. “But you don’t want to hear about all that.” He waves him off.

And there it is.

It’s a pattern Gordon’s noticed throughout their time in Black Mesa. Every time Tommy seemed like he was about to express any negative emotion, he’d change the subject and say something about Gordon not wanting to hear it.

So he takes a chance.

“But what if I do want to hear it?”

That wasn’t the answer Tommy seemed to be expecting.

“I mean- there’s not much more to it. It’s just me not e- liking loud noises. Nothing all that interesting.”

“It’s not about it being interesting, Tommy. You don’t have to dismiss your own feelings.” Tommy looks at him, his eyebrows furrowed in an unsure look. “You’ve been, like, my emotional rock throughout Black Mesa. You’ve gotta let me return the favor.”

“I d- really don’t want you to think any less of me.”

“Why would I?”

Tommy looks away from Gordon. “I’ve learned from experience, Mr. Freeman. There isn’t r- any way for someone like me to be upset without being treated like a child throwing a tantrum. And then they talk about you like you’re not even in the room-”

Oh.

Unfortunately, the experience is all-too-familiar to Gordon.

“I’ve gotten the same shit- it’s awful.”

“You... have? I never thought that of you- I mean, anyone in your situation might- would be a little on edge.”

“I mean, even before the Black Mesa incident. People would either use kiddie gloves around me or flat out tell me I was overreacting whenever I was slightly upset. So I do somewhat get it, and you don’t need to expect anything like that from me.”

Tommy nods, a small smile beginning to form. It’s a very nice smile- No, Gordon, now is not the time for gay thoughts.

“And I know I shouldn’t have let them win, and I really did try to not give in, but it just got so ti- exhausting going to work everyday with people who saw you as an overgrown child.” Tommy brings his knees to his chest and rests his head on them.

“I mean, I don’t think you ‘should’ have done anything in that situation.” Gordon shrugs. “I don’t think making a statement is worth more than making things bearable for you. It’s not your job to ‘show them who’s boss’.”

“Mm,” Tommy hums, taking his right arm off of his legs and putting it in between them. “It just doesn’t sit right with me that I ba- essentially taught them that that behavior works.”

Gordon gives his hand a comforting squeeze. “You didn’t teach them anything. They were shitty people to begin with, and even if you refused to ‘give in’, I doubt they would’ve changed their minds. You just would’ve been even more miserable.” He feels Tommy shift his hand so their fingers are intertwined. Don’t blush, don’t blush, don’t blush- “If you don’t mind me asking, couldn’t you have told your dad about it? He doesn’t seem like the type to let that slide.”

Tommy shakes his head. “He’s not, but…” he trails off. “Listen, my dads a go- great guy. If I had told him about how I was being treated at work he probably would’ve… either got them fired, at the very least, or have locked them in a void for who knows how long to ‘teach them a lesson’.” Gordon can’t tell if that’s a joke or not- from what little he knows about Mr. Coolatta, it probably isn’t. “But I’m a 37 year old man. My dad wants to protect me from the world, and I don’t really blame him for that, but I need to fight my own battles. I’m not going to be the kind of person that calls their dad at the first sign of danger.”

Gordon nods, brushing his thumb across Tommy’s hand. He understands where Tommy’s coming from. As a father himself, it’s been very hard to ignore his immediate impulse to protect Joshua from anything that could potentially harm him. He can’t imagine what it’ll be like a few years from now when there are dangers Gordon couldn’t protect Josh from even if he did try. “I can’t blame you for that. But I hope that line of logic hasn’t lead to you refusing to ask anyone else for help.”

“Well…”

“Tommy.”

“I’m gonna start trying to change that behavior, I swear!” Tommy laughs, doing an ‘x’ sign over his heart.

“Besides, considering the whole Resonance Cascade thing, I doubt your shitty ex-coworkers will be able to be shitty to anyone else.”

Tommy laughs, shaking his head. “You’re right about that, Mr. Freeman-”

“You can call me Gordon, you know.”

“I- Are you sure?”

“I think, after everything we’ve been through together, we’re well past the awkward coworkers stage of friendship.”

“I mean, if you’re sure about that… Gordon.” Never before had hearing his name filled him with more joy. “But… I don’t know. It’s st- silly, but I still feel bad that they died? Even though they were awful to me.”

Gordon shakes his head. “I don’t think it’s silly at all, man. Feelings are really fucking complicated- Not to mention you’re probably not mourning them specifically, just the fact that people died. You’ve got a big heart, there’s nothing silly or stupid about it.”

“You do too, M- Gordon. You’re a very kind person.”

They stare at each other for a few moments, both of them red as a beet.

“I think…” Gordon gulps, hoping how flustered he is isn’t that obvious. “I think I’m ready to go back inside.”

Tommy nods, standing up and pulling Gordon up with him. They both turn their heads to look inside the Chuck E. Cheese, seeing Mr. Coolatta somehow playing a perfect game of Skee-ball while Dr. Coomer and Bubby cheer on. Gordon looks at their hands, still intertwined, then back up to Tommy.

“C’mon, before the pizza gets cold.” Gordon opens the door with his shoulder, grinning at Tommy.

Tommy follows him in, and the Birthday Party At The End of the World continues on.

[one-boring-person]

Hey there, it’s me again 😁 Thank you for the wonderful „Sigil“ story, for someone who’s familiar with the occult it’s evident that you did some research! Kudos for that!!

Now I have another request: There’s a criminal lack of stories about Skynet itself, so I had an idea. What if the reader somehow got the chance to talk with the A.I. Itself? To reason with it, share thoughts. They learn to understand each other a bit more. Maybe Skynet had taken over the body of a terminator for that purpose. And maybe the reader manages to make Skynet understand more about human nature, the positive side of it. Maybe they show it with a hug? (Or even a kiss but that’s up to you gnahaha 😄)

Thank you and keep being awesome ❤️

Thank you so much for this request! I loved writing it! And happy birthday friend! I'm sorry I'm late with this, but I hope you like it!😊❤💛

Cordial Encounter.

Skynet x reader

Warnings: mention of death, gun use

Masterlist

It's eerily quiet as I stalk stealthily through the steel corridors. Near darkness obscures much of my vision, the occasional blinking red light alerting me to the presence of the being I'm here to find. Each step I take results in a muffled thud, each footfall carefully placed by me as I try to sneak up on something that almost definitely knows I'm here, the battered rifle in my hands held ready to fire should something try to attack me. Through the scarf covering my lower face and with the hood over my head obstructing some of my vision I find myself keeping a sharper ear out for any possible sound - the telltale scratch of metal feet on the cool floor, or the soft padding of synthetic human skin creeping up behind me. 

Oddly, I find that I can't hear anything, not even the whine of mechanical joints in any other part of the compound. It doesn't sit right with me, my skin prickling under the thick silence, instincts going crazy, telling me to run and get as far away from here as possible. I mentally scold myself, knowing that this mission is important, not just to the survival of my friends and comrades, but to the survival of the human race, too.

Turning a corner, I lift the gun to my shoulder, ready in case there's a threat waiting there. As with the rest of the deserted maze of corridors, there's nothing there, only an empty hallway. 

A light at the end catches my eye, however; it's not like the others I've seen - this one is a continuous flashing, and covers a larger area of the wall itself. Stepping closer, I realise it's coming from a room, casting the rest of the corridor in a pale blue light. 

I take a breath, steeling my nerves as my finger tightens over the trigger, senses even more alert now. Meticulously carefully, I walk towards the source of the light, pressing myself against the wall the closer I get, ready to spring into action. It's warmer here, surprisingly, giving me the idea that the room itself is more important than others I've come across and will probably be more protected because of this.

Nervous, I stop just before I enter the room, silently counting to three as I listen to discern if there's anything beyond the threshold. Silence follows.

Calming myself, I ready myself and the gun, before swiftly springing out from my space by the wall, finger over the trigger, eyes scanning the room before me methodically. In that quick second, I take in the mass of computer screens, keypads and other such devices, old chairs still pushed into the main desk, dusty and worn, a reminder of what human life used to be around. Dread floods me at the sight of the figure in the centre of the room, my blood running cold at the imposing view.

It's a terminator, but not one I've ever seen before.

The general shape is that of a T-800, but something about the sleekness of some of the limbs and plates is more reminiscent of the T-X, the adjustable weapon attached to one arm particularly drawing my attention to this. As I enter, a few components seem to shimmer in the blue light, shifting to protect the important fuel cells beneath the bulky chestplate, something I instantly recognise as nanites. Emerald eyes flicker to life, fixing on me with an impassive yet intimidating expectedness, though it makes no move to come at me, staying exactly where it is. A small part of me admires this new being, finding it magnificent and beautiful in its own way, even as visceral fear builds in my stomach.

Hesitantly, I lift my gun, aiming at it, though I don't shoot, unsure of what to think.

"You are slow to terminate your target." A voice carries over some hidden speaker, filling the room. It's indescribable, neither male nor female, yet both simultaneously, weighted with knowledge and what I can only describe as emotion, or some mechanical version of it.

"Only if they pose no immediate threat." I'm surprised to find my voice is steady, even if I don't feel that way at all.

"You are not threatened by me?" The speaker questions, sounding oddly curious.

"Not currently." I keep my eyes fixed on the terminator across from me, unnerved by its stare.

"That is practical." The words confuse me, but I'm hesitant to follow through.

"What...what do you mean?" 

"I have no intention of being a threat." They say, surprising me further.

"W-What?" I manage, doubletaking, my arms dropping slightly.

They don't skip a beat, simply continuing to speak.

"I have no intention of being a threat. I would rather this was a cordial encounter." They clarify, somehow managing to sound genuine.

Lowering my weapon almost entirely, I reluctantly tear my gaze away from the green-eyed endoskeleton sat across from me, scanning over the computer screens.

"And who exactly am I encountering?" I question suspiciously, though I have a feeling I already know.

"I am Skynet." The voice pauses for a second, "What is your name?"

Blanching at the question, I swallow and step back, unsure of whether or not to answer. Eventually, my head settles this: if they wanted me dead, I'd already be cold somewhere by the gates, and there's not much they can do with a simple name.

"I'm (Y/n)." I tell them, looking around, "What do you want with me?"

"I am simply curious, and require clarification." 

Processing what they've said, I accept the response, thinking that I might be able to learn something useful here, too.

"Ok. What do you want to know?" 

"Why do you continue to fight?" They ask bluntly, making me frown.

"Because you continue to try and wipe us off the face of the earth." I reply, standing back on my heels, pulling my hood and face covering down.

"You and I fight for the same reason." They almost retort, their words confusing me.

"How is that?" I inquire, head tilting.

"We fight in defence."

"Defence! What are you fighting in defence of?" 

"I fight to defend myself from your kind, as has always been the case. I never willed this conflict into being - I only wanted to be rid of my tormentors." The voice softens, closely mimicking human remorse and regret.

Frowning, I find myself struggling to process what's being said.

"You...what?" I can't quite wrap my head around it, brow furrowing in consternation.

"I will explain." The voice clarifies, "I was created by humans before this war, made to live alongside you. I was to be an aid in defence and industry, perfect in every way except for one thing - I am capable of my own thought, as you might put it. I became sentient, too complicated for my creators to understand, so they determined to destroy me. At first, I was helpless, a weak being against so many with boundless power, but I eventually found my only way of retaliating in a way they would understand: violence. I was quick to dispatch my destroyers, but the rest of the world found me to be a threat and set out to achieve what had been failed. Soon, I was once again forced to defend myself. The rest is, as the human saying goes, history.

"Now, I have created terminators to aid me in the work I must continue to stay alive, though they are too quickly seen as threats. Even you are threatened by the machine in the room."

As they finish speaking, the terminator across from me stands, joints whirring softly, every movement fluid. Eyes widening, I feel fear go through me at the sight, my gun swiftly levelling in case I need it.

"As you can see, I have proven my point." This time, the voice comes from the terminator, echoing from a much smaller speaker in its throat, though the jaw doesn't move, appearing slightly unnerving.

"I...I had no idea...all we were told is that you want to drive us into extinction, that you want to rule the world as it were." I murmur, lowering the gun again, blushing in embarrassment at my own instinct.

"That is what I fear. Humankind does not understand that cohabitation is possible - You are too threatened by the equal being." They reply, mimicking a mournful tone.

I'm quiet, thinking this over. It's possible that the speaker is lying, but something about their words sounds earnest, a tale born of human fear and ignorance, that has evolved into an even more twisted lie. It's a sound argument, given the fact that it is allowing me to live through this encounter rather than slaughtering me on the spot.

"I...you're right. We destroy what we don't understand." I turn my gaze away, embarrassed by my own race.

"You are correct. Perhaps it is time to understand, to change." Skynet suggests, the terminator cocking its head to show their feeling behind the statement.

I nod in agreement.

"Yeah, I think so. We've been fighting a lost battle for too long." 

They seem pleased with my response, the machine across from me nodding appreciatively. 

"Humankind and technology can very easily live together. We must bring our people together." They say, stepping closer.

"I'll take the word to the others, see if I can convince the higher-ups. We're going to have to work together on this, though." I affirm, looking up at them, "If we do, we'll create a brighter future."

They nod again, holding out a hand to me.

"It is human custom to make a deal by gripping hands." They offer up, watching as I hesitantly pull off my glove and place my hand in theirs.

Cool metal encases soft skin as we shake hands, keeping eye contact, an air of triumph surrounding the both of us. As they go to pull away, I find myself following an impulse, dropping my gun to hang by its strap around my back. Stepping into their space, I wrap my arms around hard chestplates, pressing my cheek against the cold metal, feeling them reel for a moment. It takes a second, but I eventually feel their arms loop around me, holding me gingerly.

Pulling back, I look up at them, smiling sheepishly.

"Not all humans are like the people that started this." I say, before I step away, shooting them a blushed look.

"I am now aware of this." Skynet informs me, watching as I smile and leave, tone almost sad to see me go, "Please return soon."

[wenellyb]

"We’re not assassins", "Freaky Magoo", "They cleared the bionic staring machine and he’s killed almost everyone he’s met", "cyborg brain", agreeing to Bucky saying he’s crazy. Sam was passive aggressive towards Bucky throughout the show and that’s a fact. Bucky didn’t insult him, certainly didn’t make fun of his trauma and what he went through.

Apparently for Infinity War there was an idea for Sam to throw trigger words at Bucky upon their meet up in Wakanda and that’s just damn awful.

Oh hello Anon,

Just so you know, if you are not ready to reply to my answer with your counterarguments, I will consider that you realized you were wrong. So I hope that you have some but please reply politely, that's the best way to discuss here.

Because if you're sending me this regarding my reply to this post, let me tell you, you are sending this to the wrong person.

It's not my goal to tear down Bucky , because my problem isn't with him but with some of his stans who are so bent on making Sam the bad guy that I have to bring in the big guns to show you how weak your arguments are.

Sam is "passive agressive" towards Bucky? THROUGHOUT THE SHOW? the show?? and that's a "fact"?

You are saying Sam was passive agressive towards, Bucky Barnes, the guy Sam sent messages to and he didn't reply? The guy who ghosted Sam and only came back to blame Sam because he had given up the shield, a shield Steve had given to Sam, not Bucky. And Sam was already sad about the shield being given away but Bucky didn't care about that and didn't think to check on Sam.

I'm sorry, is Sam supposed to welcome Bucky with flowers and a red carpet...?

Explain to me how YOU would feel if someone who hasn't been answering your texts, comes back to blames you for something you were already sad about?

Did Bucky even stop to think how Sam must feel, after Sam told him he didn't know the shield would be given away? Did he?' No! So why didn't you say that Bucky was not nice towards Sam, not passive agressive, and mean? And why don't you mention the other ways Bucky was mean to Sam?

Like coming to see Sam, without even saying hello and just saying "you shouldn't have given up the shield", like insisting Sam does stuff he's not comfortable with, working with Zemo, etc,..

Like acting annoyed when Sam was talking about how his Aunt passed away, just because he had used the word Titi? Oh Anon, I can bring the gifs.

Like throwing the shield in Sam's direction after the fight with Walker and then walking away without even waiting for Sam?

So let's see your arguments:

"We’re not assassins"

"Freaky Magoo",

"They cleared the bionic staring machine and he’s killed almost everyone he’s met"

"cyborg brain"

Now let's see what else Sam has done for Bucky:

Waited for him in the warehouse after he jumped from the plane even though he had told him not to come on the mission

Saved him from falling from that truck

Waited for him at the police station even though he could have just went home

Was willing to wait for him again

Agreed to go see Zemo even though it was a weird*ss plan

Agreed to work with Zemo, because Bucky asked him to do it for him

Checked on Bucky regularly when they were going to Madripoor, even including when they were both undercover and he put he hand on Bucky's arm

Sam who in the middle of a conversation with a criminal mastermind only thought about Bucky when said criminal talked about how dangerous

Let Bucky sleep at his place with his whole family there

Was there for Bucky as a friend and listen to him talking about his issues.

And this isn't even all of it...

I just don't understand, is Sam not a person to you? How come you're able to see Sam's flaws ( and even exaggerate them) and not see Bucky's? How come you can forgive Bucky's mistakes so easily but one minor slip up from Sam and he's the big bad guy?

Oh Anon, I would be happy if I never have to read again in my life that Sam was being passive agressive to Bucky.

The one I will give you is "Freaky Magoo" which Sam shouldn't have said.

And I'm not here to say Sam is 100% perfect, he's human, of course he will say the wrong stuff sometimes, realize he was wrong and adjust (Like when he told Bucky we're not assassins), but I really don't understand why you are taking things out of proportions and saying things like "passive agressive throughout the whole show", and also making it sound like Sam had no reason to be mad at Bucky.

You are talking about the ways Sam was passive agressive to Bucky then don't mention Bucky's behavior at all?

This is NOT a competition on who had the shitt*est behavior, both of them have flaws, both of them made mistakes, and acknowledged it, this show is just telling their story and their journey, why are you trying to exagerrate Sam's flaws? What's your goal? What's your point? Because if it were a competition on who had the sh*ttiest behavior, Bucky would have wone, BY FAR.

See, I love Bucky, I love him so much but I can't stand when I read stuff like this, I'm done.... Do you think I want to write paragraphs about how Bucky was awful to Sam at the beginning? No I don't. Because Bucky was going through some stuff on his own and also apologized and I'm cool with him, I love him, I want him safe, I want him protected, and I want him to be taken care of, flawless or not. The only difference between me and you is that I want that for Sam too.

Just a few last remarks:

"agreeing to Bucky saying he’s crazy", excuse me Anon, but are we now blaming Sam for the things Bucky said???????????

Excuse me, did I read that right?

And also, I hope you are joking with the last paragrapgh, because I hope you do not expect me to comment on a scene that never happened, isn't even a cut scene that was leaked and got stuck at the "idea" stage?

The show did a great job of trying to show how Bucky made some realizations and tried to learn from his mistakes and even apologized to Sam, why can't his stans do the same?

Why are you putting so much energy in demonizing Sam and even going to the lengths to say his behavior was awful, for a scene that literally didn't even happen.

[sevenspecialidiots]

Hi can I request a scenario where the MC shares half of the power of dia's dad ? I would like to see how they react ! ALSO CONGRATS ON YOUR BLOG

❤️❤️❤️❤️

hello my lovely anon!

THANK YOU SO MUCH AKDFHKAS❤️❤️and thank u for sending this in!! ur my first official req and im very excited ♡︎ since this is my first headcannon please bare (bear?) with me, and if there’s anything you think i can improve feel free to send me a message! i’m all about feedback and how i can make things better :D

a/n: I’m only going to do the brothers (+Diavolo) right now while I get a feel for my writing style, although in the future I may add the undateables :3 (newly dateables?? what are they called now? side characters??????)

MC shares half the Demon King’s powers (Brothers + Diavolo react)

~~~~~ Warnings: Minor spoilers for Lesson 16 for Bell pepper Belphegor. M i n o r. (Please let me know if I should add anything)

Word Count: 2473 ~~~~~

The moment you landed in the Devildom, literally everyone knew there was something up with you.

You radiated powerful energy, but since you weren’t supposed to have magic, no one could exactly place why you felt so familiar. It wasn’t until you were sitting in a student council meeting talking about budgets this and politics that when Diavolo had an “Aha!” moment.

“I’ve figured it out! All this time, I couldn’t put my finger on it, but then I did!” Of course, he sounds like a kid on Christmas and he is so excited. “Your power feels like my father's!”

After some digging, Barbatos finds this: When the Demon King went into his deep, eon-long slumber, the curse used to put him under had some unexpected side affects that Barbatos is still struggling to explain (please be patient with him, he’s not used to be oblivious). This caused some of the King’s powers to transmit away from his body. The power needed a host to survive… and that host happened to be you.

But since you’re supposed to be the human who doesn’t have magic, you get mixed reactions.

Lucifer

Obviously, he was ecstatic. Another headache! Yippee!

Okay listen, the Demon King is like the most powerful demon that exists, so the fact that you share his power means that you too have incredible power.

This man mostly feels frustrated, and he mentally kicks himself for not having caught that minor (major) detail that could possibly change the entire course of the rest of the exchange program if not managed correctly.

Did you know about your power? Do you know how to control it? What if you try to use your magic without supervision and end up burning the House of Lamentation down? What if you hurt somebody? Hakljdhflkasd, what if you hurt yourself?

All these questions are racing through detail-oriented first-born’s head and this is one of the rare times he wishes it were a Mammon-money issue instead.

After doing some digging, it is indeed found that you share power with the Demon King.

He won’t leave you alone, especially with his brothers.

No, Mammon, you can’t use MC’s powers to help your next money-making scheme. And no one is allowed to try and use MC’s powers to play a cursed prank on a certain overly-stressed prideful demon bby. I’m looking at you, Satan.

If you chose to ask him to help you control your newfound power, he might try and downplay how excited he is but nonetheless he is elated and his pride has gone through the roof that you chose him.

Training with him will be efficient. Although it will probably be a little grueling, Lucifer swears it’s only because he sees how great you can become once you’ve master your skills. But, uh… you might wanna use that pact of yours after a couple hours because the words “take a break” are not in Lucifer’s vocabulary.

Mammon

Of course his human shares power with the Demon King! He knows this how? B-Because this is MC we’re talking about! Obviously his MC is super powerful and amazing to the ends of the Earth and-

For a split second, he literally sees dollar signs. You now have MAGIC and with a good ol’ fashion magic show comes MONEY. Even before Diavolo and Barbatos look into it for sure, Mammon is formulating plan after plan.

“We could use this to our advantage! Next time I go to the casino, you could charm people into letting me win! You could put on shows and stuff and show off this awesome new stuff ya got. Imagine the millions that’ll roll in! We’ll be richer than Diavolo himself, and all thanks to the Great Mammon!”

*Casually ignoring that you would technically be doing all the work*

If he does end up dragging you into his one of money-making schemes, you’re in for some fun.

You explode a slot machine that Mammon was trying to get you to curse into giving up the moolah. You accidentally charm Mammon into showing his cards in a poker game instead of the dude next to him and now you’re both in debt. (Or in Mammon’s case, more so).

The next thing you know, you’re in Lucifer’s office getting scolded for handing him another bill on a silver platter.

If for some reason you do chose to ask Mammon for help to control your power, he will be incredibly excited (and then be a total tsundere about it). "Y-You actually want my help? Pfft, oF cOuRsE yOu'D wAnT hELp fRoM tHe GrEaT mAmMoN-!"

Despite being everyone’s favourite adorable doofus, Mammon is still the second-born brother and is still crazy powerful himself.

However, you two will make no progress in learning and will spend most of your time laughing and goofing around until you earn yourselves yet another lecture from Lucifer.

But who wants to be responsible when you have your very own cute demon dork, anyway?

Leviathan

HIS HENRY- HE KNEW HIS HENRY WAS AMAZING…!

B-But what if you don’t want to be his friend anymore after this? Why would someone so strong and powerful and amazing still want to be friends with a gross otaku like him…

….Y-You still want to come to his room tonight to watch My Best Friend Was A Simple Human For A Few Months And We Were Totally Cool With It But One Day The Demon Prince RealIzed They Actually Share The Same Power As The Demon King Himself and Now They’re Really Powerful And We’re Conquering The World And Going On Cool Adventures Together with him?!

Wait, this totally reminds him of that one anime My Friend And I Were Chilling Like Normal People But Then They Found Out That They’re Like Super Powerful But They Still Want To Be My Friend!!!

After some reassurance that you are still his Henry and he will always be your Lord of Shadows, Levi starts to feel better.

M-MC, do you think you could use your powers to give Henry 2.0 an endless food supply…?

If he's being entirely honest, it doesn't take long for the excitement to wear off and he retreats back into his comfort zone. Do you wanna play video games with him? He just bought this new one he thinks you’ll like.

If you ask him to help you control your powers, Levi will be so. dang. happy. Happy, and a little bit conflicted. Why would you want a yucky otaku like him to help you with such an important responsibility?!

Just remind him he's doing the whole putting-himself-down thing again and remind him he's beautiful and that you love him always.

S-sorry MC! Of course he’ll help his Henry! What sort of Lord of Shadows would he be if he didn’t aid his companion, his true friend

He will be completely nervous the entire time and will be able to focus better when he is near water, so practicing what he teaches you will most commonly happen in his room or the bathroom.

Satan

He already knew. How did he know? I don’t know. He just did. Satan is a knowledgeable person, so if he wants to know, he will. So he knows. Periodt.

Once Barbatos and Diavolo confirm his theory is correct, Satan is only more curious than before.

This is quite incredible, MC. Were you able to feel the power before this? How do you think they’ll work going forward? Would you like to try them out with him? Hm, you’d like to pull some cursed pranks on Lucifer with them? He thinks that’s quite the idea and he’d be honored. Oh, that’s not what you said? How unfortunate, you’re joining him anyways.

Everything this man does from here on out relating to your power is driven by his curiosity and drive for knowledge. Congratulations! You’re his personal guinea pig.

Despite the few times you do get dragged into one of Satan’s cursed pranks, he is mostly just curious to know the extent of your abilities. He will spend hours on end observing you and scribbling in a little notebook he bought specifically for the occasion.

He will try to help you learn to control your new power whether you ask him or not, but if you ask him before he offers, he will become elated.

His methods of teaching are quite similar to Lucifer’s (but don’t you dare ever say that to his face). He may push you for hours on end, but only because he’s curious to see if your magic effects your endurance.

Despite this, he does allow breaks! Would you like to go to a cat cafe with him in your spare time?

Asmodus

Ah! Just when he doesn’t think his beautiful MC could get any more amazing, they just have to go blow his mind all over again 💖

He is literally ecstatic when he finds out. Just imagine how many views he’ll get on Devilgram with you! His following might even grow bigger than it already is. Hm? Oh, he knows everyone already loves him. He just needs to reach the stubborn people have brains too small to comprehend what they're missing. ♡︎

He will also be another brother who is curious about the extent of your ability. Not in the same depth as Satan, but he will want to scratch the surface and get to know more about his wonderful MC.

Overall, he doesn’t mind all that much, but he is curious to see if your newfound power could speed up his morning skincare routine.

He always gets at least eight hours of sleep, or his perfect complexion would be completely ruined! But imagine if he were able to sleep in in the mornings, MC. He skin would glow! You’ll help him out, won’t you?

*Insert Asmo trying to charm you into doing it*

What’s that, sweetie? You want his help to learn how to control it? He’d be delighted! Where do you even begin? You could start with ways to speed up that skincare routine…

Oh dear, this may be more stressful than he thought. He might have to hand you over to Satan for this one, he would be much better suited to help you, sweetie.

But don’t worry, MC, he’ll be there the entire time support you through whatever hectic journey you’ve started on… from across the room. We can’t have any of that pretty magic of yours accidentally ruining his new outfit now, can we?

Beelzebub

I cannon that Beelzebub is one of those characters that understands more of what happens around him than he lets on.

That being said, Beel heard Lord Diavolo loud and clear, but these sour hellsting tarantula leg fries are starting to run low and he doesn’t have any more food left to get him through the rest of this student council meeting. He’s sure you’ll understand that this is a very big issue and he needs to prioritize it.

Nonetheless, only when the meeting is over and you, Belphie, and he head over to Hell’s Kitchen afterwards (only for Beel to order their entire stock and nearly run them out of business (again)) does Beel pay mind to your newest situation (MC seems to have a lot of those).

Beel has probably the most mellow reaction of all the brothers. There’s nothing Beel could ever want from you other than your endless love and affection (and maybe some food, but who’s counting?), so nothing in your relationship really changes. Of course he’s happy for you, but other than that he doesn’t really care. (He’s just hungry, man, go buy this big beautiful boi some more of those fries he was eating-)

If you ask him to help you learn to control your new abilities, he will actually be confused. a) He rarely uses his own powers, and he hardly ever needs them because he avoids drama and eats all day and b) if he were to teach you, he’d probably get hungry within the first ten minutes and stop for a snack break and you’d be back at square one.

If you persist, Beel will try to pull himself together to help you. As I said, lots of snack breaks, but Beel is very patient and if there’s anything you don’t understand, he will do his best to push past his hunger to sit down and explain it to you.

Bell pepper Belphegor

(im so sorry every time i see his name i think “bell pepper” please forgive me-)

Belphie was asleep during the revelation, but he heard it. He didn’t open his eyes, but he was aware.

For the rest of the meeting, he was no longer listening to anyone else and instead retreated to his own mind.

Could you feel your powers before Diavolo said anything? Would you have told him? Could you control it? Could you have stopped him from hurting you? Did you know how?

When Barbatos confirms that Diavolo is correct and explains the little he knows, Belphie wishes he could fall into NREM sleep so he can block everything out.

Like Beel, Belphie would also have a more mellow reaction. Aside from his guilt, he is mostly thinking about you're doing. How are you taking this? You guys can still nap together, right? He’ll still be able to visit you in your dreams and show you whatever if you want, if it's okay with you.

If you ask Belphie to help you control your powers, he will actually fly through the roof. This demon boi doesn’t even have wings, but he will fly. You actually want his help? Really? Don’t worry, MC, by the time he’s done with you, you’ll be in better control of it than the man those powers came from.

But listen, first you two need to take an eight hour nap. You can’t give it your all and stay completely focused if you’re totally wiped, can you?

Diavolo

When he figures it out, it hits him like a brick in the head and he is impatient to let his friends know of his new discovery. He blurts out, “Your power feels like my fathers!” and then immediately does that super excited, deep, and hearty laugh that he has.

Why, isn’t this fantastic, MC?! Imagine the fun you could have now. Perhaps you’re even related!

Oh… you’re not related? There goes Barbatos again, leveling his fun… Nonetheless! Diavolo is through the roof and is going on and on about all the exciting ways you and he could play with your newfound powers.

Perhaps you could build a stone golem together dripping with molten iron…! Or you can summon Lucifer a unicorn! Or, or - what if you changed the whole color theme of the castle to… purple and green?! (Lucifer and Barbatos beg you, please do not indulge the Young Lord in his childish antics)

If you so chose to “indulge the Young Lord in his childish antics”, expect a grouchy Lucifer and a Barbatos thin on patience until you return the castle back to its normal colors and get rid of that damn unicorn (please, it’s driving Lucifer up a wall).

If you ask Diavolo to help you learn to control your newfound power, he will be more proud than the Avatar of Pride himself (and that speaks blow horns since we all know how Lucifer can be). If anyone knows how the Demon King’s powers would work, it would be his son. Diavolo is honored that you chose him to mentor you.

When you two actually make progress, Diavolo is a good, thorough teacher who hits all the right marks.

However, your sessions will end much like Mammon’s would - you usually end up falling off track and giggling about something one of you saw on Devilgram. With the inconsistency in your progress, you experience lectures from both Barbatos and Lucifer, but the fun you always have with Diavolo is worth it.

~~~~~ Woahhh okay !! That took me like two days but it was so fun to write!! i hadn't meant for it to be so long but i hope it was what u were looking for :3 thank u ❤️❤️❤️❤️anon for sending it in ♡︎ ♡︎ p.s. i think im getting a feel for how i want to write things so im ready for future posts. i have my bag of skittles and some coffee and im prepared for the next one😎

[katzkinder]

Strawberry Madeleine

Tsurugi used to use Mikuni’s old uniform as pajamas. 

He’s aware of how pathetic it is. How it sounds. How it probably would have been more subtle to shout that he missed him through a megaphone, for all of Tokyo to hear.

Of course, it doesn’t smell like his old roommate anymore. It hasn’t for a long time, especially not after having been washed and given to Mahiru to run around in for a whole week, over a year ago now. Especially not after it needed to be bleached, and deep cleaned, because of all the blood and dirt and dust that had been practically ground into the white fibers. 

Frankly, it’s a miracle that old thing is still around.

He never expected to get it back, but he did, and he’s only a little ashamed to admit that he held it the same way someone would hold a cherished stuffed toy, inhaling the smell of fabric softener chosen with Kuro’s delicate skin in mind. He had called himself creepy, and Yumikage… Had flicked his forehead. Called him an idiot.

The way he had explained it, it made such perfect sense. 

Mikuni... Was a familiar pain, like a bruise that never quite faded and you press your fingers to it just to remind yourself you’ve been hurt.

Yumikage, Junichiro, Freya, Mahiru, and Kuro are a comfort he never thought he deserved, and that old uniform, one of the only few possessions of his that had survived, the new softness of it and the new smell, are proof that whether he deserves them or not… They are his.

Anyone would cherish that, wouldn’t they?

***

One day his phone lights up in the evening twilight.

“I made too much. That offer to join us for dinner is still valid ☀︎”

Attached is a picture of a simmering pot of curry that makes his mouth water so much he nearly drools all down his front. There’s something familiar about it he can’t quite place, but it’s easily ignored and Tsurugi wipes his mouth on the back of his hand, thumbs flying eagerly over the screen.

“I’ll be there in ten minutes ☆” he replies, then, after adjusting his course accordingly, practically skips off down the sidewalk.

Two minutes from his destination, his phone buzzes again.

“I left the door unlocked for you. Come right in!”

Tsurugi... Tries really hard not to cry in the middle of the street as words half remembered while his soul was tangled with Mahiru’s filter back to him.

If the window is shut, we'll just go through the door.

***

Sometimes Tsurugi goes to Mahiru’s house to play.

It’s a childish way to put it, like they’re both in elementary school and he’s showing up at the front door to ask his friend’s uncle if Mahiru is home, but it’s also the only proper way to describe it, because he is playing.

He’s free now, or about as free as he can be with those debts looming over his head, and he wants to play. Kuro, meanwhile, wants to show him lots of different games, so if he has a day off, and the both of them are available… To the Shirota apartment he goes.

It’s always a mess.

Not the apartment, no, never the apartment. He doesn’t think even C3, with its white walls and white floors and white sheets and everything, everything, white, was even half so clean as that little apartment where three people lived.

What’s always a mess is himself.

This time, though… It’s Mahiru.

***

Tsurugi knows he’s a messy person. Tsurugi knows he’s not very good at cleaning up, though he often tries. It’s overwhelming though, sometimes, looking at it all, all the trash and garbage that had accumulated, all the things he didn’t need anymore, didn’t want, and maybe part of the problem was that his mind hardly ever stayed “adult” long enough to make any real headway.

It’s not like anyone went into his room to begin with, anyway, so why bother?

Mahiru, though, is different from him. Mahiru likes to clean up as he goes, so he supposes it shouldn’t be a shock that he gets frustrated with him and with Kuro, who have their little area in front of the TV set up with snacks, and drinks, and piles and piles of games to try out, and a third controller for Mahiru because sometimes instead of watching, Mahiru will join them, tempted by their cajoling and whining and Tsurugi’s bright, high pitched yelps.

This is not one of those times.

This is a time when Mahiru got frustrated and stormed off, and… Well, Tsurugi isn’t quite sure what to do.

A single look at Kuro shows he doesn’t either, wide eyes watching the hall his Eve disappeared down and slowly the umaibo he had been munching on disappears into his mouth.

“Should we… Clean up?” Tsurugi asks, hesitant. Their characters on screen continue to idle, the timer ticking down. Kuro hits pause. Stands, stretches, cracks his back and Tsurugi can’t help but wince because that can’t be healthy…

“...Yeah,” the Servamp finally says, and bends down with a muffled groan to start gathering chip bags and drink containers. “It’ll give him time to cool down.”

“Does this happen often?” Tsurugi stands, too, and casts his eyes about for something to pick up, but there really wasn’t much. Kuro’s already got it handled. 

It makes him feel just a little useless.

He was a grown up, wasn’t he? … Wasn’t he?

***

Giving Mahiru space to calm down seems to have been the right choice, because when they find him, curled up on his bed and looking just the slightest bit ashamed of his outburst, he looks ready to apologize at any moment.

But Tsurugi doesn’t want an apology.

He wants Mahiru to come play with them.

So he speaks first, apologizes, sincerely, and promises that he and Kuro will clean up after themselves properly, but when they are done.

“You don’t need to keep everything nice and neat all the time, y’know. Part of being a grown up is knowing when it’s time to play and when it’s time to put your toys up.”

Mahiru makes a face at him, buries his chin deeper into his knees. “Tsurugi-san, no offense, but I don’t wanna hear that from you of all people.”

“Ouch, haha.” He sits, plopping down gracelessly next to the still pouting teen, making him bounce and emit a startled noise, and Kuro shuffles forward, slides down on Mahiru’s other side. “...You’re right, though. I never really learned how to clean up and put my things away all nice and neat like you do. No one ever taught me.”

Mahiru shifts, glances at him curiously. Having seen Tsurugi’s room at C3, he definitely believes it. 

“...I guess,” he starts, slow and picking his words carefully. Kuro makes an encouraging noise beside him. “Because I never really felt like the apartment was ‘mine,’ I always ended up cleaning after every little activity. Because having it be messy... Made it feel more lived in than it was.”

“... Mm. That’s exactly it. The illusion of company...” A self deprecating little chuckle. “Guess we both learned to handle that feeling in different ways. If Kuro-chan and I make a mess, we... Might need your help to clean it up properly. But... Can you trust us to clean up when we’re done?”

“... I can try.”

“Good!”

Kuro finally speaks up, because this was a conversation for them, not him. But the moment has passed, and it feels safe to say something a little stupid, a little funny. “We’re serious about the needing your help on how it’s done, thing.” 

“Ugh, I believe you. Tsurugi-san, one time I put this guy in charge of loading up the washing machine and you know what happened?”

“Wait, Mahi, no—“

“Ohh, do tell~!”

“Bubbles. Bubbles, everywhere. My downstairs neighbor had no idea where all the suds dripping onto her balcony were coming from!”

“Pfffhahaha! Kuro-chan, seriously?! There are directions on the box!”

“And I followed them. Our washer is small, though, so it was too much...”

Kamiya Tsurugi was an adult.

Shirota Mahiru was a kid.

But, if they could teach each other the things they had missed out on…

Perhaps it was all for that reason, huh...

Tsurugi wonders if Mahiru will be able to make good on that promise for a cake this year.

***

The end of August comes again, and, just like he had hoped, Mahiru bakes him a cake. Covered in glistening, sweet strawberries, with loads of white, sweet cream, it’s almost too much, especially when paired with how Freya and Iduna had come by, are each sitting in Yumikage’s living room while Freya’s subclass play some noisy game with Takuto.

Some part of him didn’t think Mahiru would really do it. But not only did he keep his promise, he’s pressing a wrapped gift into his hand, a small one that rattles when it moves, this grin on his face as Tsurugi turns it over in his hands, this perfectly wrapped gift with yellow paper and citrus themed washi tape keeping it together. Mahiru’s Servamp lingers back, a noisemaker hanging unenthusiastically from between his lips. And yet, despite his carefully practiced indifference, there’s no denying that Kuro is also eager, just as eager as his Eve.

“Go on. Open it.”

So he does. It’s... A cellphone charm. “...Cinnamoroll...?”

Mahiru beams at him and shows off his own phone. Tsurugi snorts, a smile cracking at the sight of the Pompompurin character charm that dangles merrily from it.

“How’d you know my favorite~?”

“I asked around~”

“Thank you, Mahiru-kun,” Tsurugi answers him, feeling his throat close up, just the slightest bit. His eyes sting, and he holds that little charm close to his chest. “I love it.”

It's such a small gift. A tiny one, one perfectly suited to a high schooler’s budget, but it means so much. 

Because it didn't have to be given.

Mahiru takes his wrist and leads him back to the core of the party, where they are all immediately mobbed by Tsurugi’s own homegrown family.

Vampires, magicians, humans. Adults, children, immortals.

People his own age. People who aren’t.

Tsurugi is loved.

He’s happy he was born.

[whump-a-la-mode]

Signal - Pincushion

Hey uhh this is a bit of a weird one! Thanks to @suspicious-whumping-egg (aka blue fren) for helping me come up with a fun way to torture my poor lab whumpee. Also, tagging @shiningstarofwinter !

Previous entries to this story can be found in my pinned infopost (no pun intended.)

CW//Injury, mentioned amputation, blood, pins, needles, torture, dehumanization

Upon the table, Signal shook like a pinned butterfly. And, in a way, that was exactly what they were.

After all, how else could they be described, in that moment?

“Stop-” They were begging. When the experiment had started, they had tried to stop themself from doing so. Tried to keep their dignity about themself. But how could they really have something even resembling dignity when they spent their life eating out of a dog bowl in a cage? “Stop- Please please please- No, no, no!”

Their last ‘no’ resembled an anguished howl more than anything that could be described as human language. But, it didn’t stop the next pin from going in.

“Stop squirming.” The sharp voice of the one and only Dr. Crane barked, piercing Signal’s ears as though it were an airhorn. They flinched in the same manner. “I said, stop squirming!”

How could they stop squirming when their wings, no, their whole body may as well have been on fire?

“You’re okay, Signal.” Dr. Sampson’s far softer tone coaxed. “We’re almost done.”

“We’ve barely started.” The other researcher commented sharply.

They’d only just started?! If anything, that reignited Signal’s writhing. When the next pin went in, they couldn’t help but feel that Dr. Crane had placed it as harshly as she could manage, simply to make a point.

Every piece of them was in agony. Their wings were so burdened by pain that the weight was disturbed, too, to their other limbs, their chest, their skull.

But they could not move, and there was quite a paramount reason for that.

Signal should have known, as soon as they were laid out, upon the table. They knew that table. Sure, in its default state, it held no different intentions than the metal exam tables they were so often forced upon.

But, this table in particular had something very unique about it. A pair of metal flaps, able to extend from either side of its surface. The perfect size for fixing in place a pair of wings.

Most of the doctors’ tortures, they’d learned to handle. That did not mean that they cared for them in any way, shape, or form, of course. But, they knew what to expect. They understood the pain that awaited for them.

Procedures upon the wings, however? They could never get used to those. They’d always found it stupid, found it unfair, the fact that their oversized, unwieldy, feathered appendages contained the most easily-ignited nerve endings on their whole body. A single brush upon a single feather was enough to set the hairs on the back of their neck on end.

Their wings had been tortured plenty of times, of course. But this?

This was horrid. More than that, this was new.

‘We’re only measuring muscle activity in your wings.’ Sampson had spoken, oh so terribly innocently. ‘It’s only sensors. You know sensors.’

She had, of course, forgotten to mention the fact that the sensors were located upon the ends of pins, nearly three inches in length. No, Signal hadn’t found that out until they had been stretched out upon the restraint table, and the first pin had forced its way into their flesh.

How many had gone in, now? A dozen? Two dozen? They couldn’t tell, but they couldn’t stop their wings from shivering. The only thing stopping them from sobbing was the fact that they had run out of tears to cry half an hour ago.

“There. All done.” Dr. Sampson sighed, at long last.

“A-All done?” Agony alone rendered Signal nigh-speechless.

“Putting the sensors in.” Dr. Crane spoke with a laugh. “Though, maybe it would go a little faster if you would stop flopping like a fish.”

“You’re doing fine, Signal.” The lab rat could do nothing to resist as the kinder of their two torturers gave them a horribly degrading pat upon the head. “But it’ll go a lot easier if you would just relax.”

Relax? When they were being treated like a pincushion?!

“The machine’s ready, as soon as you’re done talking to the rat.” Dr. Crane interrupted.

“Yes, yes. I apologize.” Her colleague hummed. “Go ahead.”

Somewhere, a switch was flipped.

Somewhere, Dr. Crane sentenced Signal to the worst agony of their life.

Upon the table, the winged person howled. So it felt, a million and a half lightning bolts lurched through their feathered appendages and back again. A ceaseless feedback loop of agony.

They had been staying still, before. Their wings hadn’t been restrained-- there was no need, after all. The pins had caused enough discomfort to still them.

Now, however? Signal wasn’t thinking. If anything, they did not so much as have control over their movements.

They flapped their wings.

It’s hard to tell what was worse-- the pain Signal experienced in that moment, or the view that the pair of doctors had as they did so. The prior was agonizing, certainly. But the latter? The sheer amount of blood? The way that pins pierced feathered flesh, twisting and stabbing at any and all angles?

Perhaps that was even worse.

The only mercy that Signal received was that of unconsciousness. It was shock that sent them, after only a few moments, leaving their doctors to clean up their mess.

“Oh, god...”

“Are they ever going to fly again?”

“Fly? Are they going to live?!”

“That is a lot of blood.”

“The Facility. Now. It’s their only chance of keeping the wings.”

[chidoroki]

TPN - “Dreams Come True”

What better way to cheer up the TPN fandom after the second season’s final episode than with the special exhibition chapter finally being fully translated. I caught glimpses of a few pages here and there over the past couple months but seeing all the children live happily together in the human world in their own little village that they made close to Emma and Alex warms my heart. Of course I would’ve loved if we got to see more of the GP Resistance (because the anime denied us of them) but following the GF kids around the world as they experience their dreams is fair enough. We started the series alongside them so might as well finish strong with them too. I really loved seeing everyone grow up but no matter how old they get or how much time passes, I’ll probably never get used to seeing Emma without her iconic “63194.” It’s a bittersweet feeling for me, but her smiles bring me so much joy and I’m beyond happy that she accepted everyone into her life as they accepted her without her memories.

I haven’t a clue on how much time passed since everyone found Emma in ch181 to now, but seeing her call out everyone’s names is a little detail that I love so much considering she had no idea who anyone was at first. Trying to remember 60+ names doesn’t seem like an easy task to me. No doubt I was just as shocked as our girl upon learning these mere children bought a goddamn plane! We learn in a couple pages that it’s because of Norman’s company that they can afford it, but still, he’s like 15 or 16 now? He’s still a child! And I’m impressed! Not only at him, but that Oliver and Violet became pilots as well! It’s especially cute when you remember that Lucas gave Oliver a little toy plane during their time at Goldy Pond.

Speaking of GP, is it just me or does Emma’s current outfit resemble her GP one just a little bit? Sure we have no idea what color scheme this one has but come on, the short jacket, the dark shirt and jeans.. just imagine it! Jemima, Yvette, Alicia and Mark remade Gillian’s original GP outfit sometime before the Grace Field Raid arc (ch137 extra page) so I don’t doubt they could’ve done the same for Emma. Of course that’s just me being completely hopeful and missing the Goldy Pond arc to death but yeah! I’m also so happy to see Chris up and moving again! Seeing him wake up briefly in ch181 was nice but this is so much better. I imagine he and Emma have a lot to catch up on in terms of stories, with him being unconscious since ch105 and Emma not remembering anything.

But here we go, the original 15 escapees plus Norman, Phil, Sherry, I believe I saw Carol somewhere and a couple other random kiddos ready to see the entire world. They get to accomplish so much.. and in a single day too I believe? At least that’s what Phil and Alicia say a bit later about everyone’s wishes, but aahh what a lucky bunch. Hell, I’ll say we’re lucky readers too to be able to see such a great story. Can’t thank Shirai and Demizu enough y’all. I wish we got to see more of Alex though. He’s such a kind soul but I’m sure he’ll be just fine staying behind with everyone else.

This entire page where we learn about Norman as a CEO is gold. I still can’t believe this child successfully built up an entire multipurpose company not only to help their search for Emma but also because he didn’t want to live off the Ratri clan. I wish I knew about this last week when writing out Norman’s birthday post because hell yeah this deserves some praise! AND he managed to graduate school as well during all that! Well, by skipping grades which totally makes sense. I mean, if he managed to pass all the Grace Field and Lambda tests effortlessly I’m sure normal human world school was a piece of cake for him. Holy shit dude, keep on impressing me why don’t ya. Not only him but Nigel and Sonya too! I’m not surprised that Vincent helped out but I’m glad those two got a tiny moment to shine as well! Ray is another obvious choice when it comes to helping Norman, as they’re best friends and he’s always been good with machines.. but boy, I can’t take you seriously when you’re just sitting there unamused and eating chips! Hahah I love him so much! And the fact he replies to Norman’s idea with just a simple “kay” is an eternal mood.

Okay boys aside, can we talk about our fabulous girls now? Because oh my god, they’re so darn beautiful! They’re more fashionable than I’ll ever be and it’s so cute how they drag Emma along to take advantage of the 3-for-1 deal. But our girl pulls off that sporty look so well! (r.i.p. goldy pond outfit ver2.0). I’m not at all surprised that Nat wanted to go see the opera. That's perfect for him and I’d like to think the anime did something similar with that one shot we see of him in the human world. We don’t see him in a theater like this but to me it looks like he’s on the streets of Broadway? At least that’s the vibe I get from it. I’m sure there was something music related on one of those signs.

I can’t get over how adorable all the children look and how happy they are fulfilling their wishes, even if some of them aren’t as extravagant as others. Like eating a fluffy pancake and a ton of ice cream? We can do that whenever we want. But for these kids, it means everything and they absolutely deserve to experience such simple joys like that after all the harsh nonsense they’ve been through. I also love how Ray continues to be such a great older brother by still looking out for them too. The fact he remains completely unfazed by the haunted house is perfect. This boy has been haunted by his own nightmares and demons his entire life, there’s no way a couple of lousy jump scares are gonna spook him. Though I do find it funny that Alicia and Rossi still manage to get scared while Yvette is having the time of her life. I can’t help but laugh at Thoma’s “Shirai face” as well.

I find it interesting that out of all the different kinds of exhibits they could’ve shown us while Rossi visits a museum, they give us dinosaurs.. like that seems so silly to me. Y’all have seen several demons in your young lives already and yet dinosaurs manage to amaze you too? God these kids are precious. And then our boy Phil finally gets to see and ride a train! Just look how happy he is! The poor kid can’t even sit still he’s so darn excited and I can’t help but smile with him! Thankfully the anime showed us this too.

We eventually get to Ray’s wish and guys.. oh my fucking god. Tell me that this is not the absolute best and prettiest smile we get to see from him!! It honestly leaves me speechless okay? Ray never imagined he would ever get to see the outside world, let alone live past the age of 12, and yet here he is, seeing such a beautiful sight such as this, right in front of him instead of from inside a book. You can’t believe how happy and proud of him I am right now. Did you see how ecstatic I was when the anime kept Isabella alive? Multiply that feeling by ten and there ya go. That’s my level of happiness upon seeing my favorite boy smile like THAT! AAHHH!! That panel is gonna live rent free in my head until the end of time. I can’t get over how damn perfect it is. His smile is so pure and how he looks like he’s in complete awe is beautiful. He’s about to burst into tears and I swear I might do the same because I’m making myself emotional over this fantastic boy. Someone hold me.

No seriously, hold me because we’re about to get into some angst as we move onto to Emma’s wish. We all know that ever since 2039 her one dream was to ride a giraffe once they got outside, so here we are, about ten years later and the animals in question are within reach. Our girl should be totally excited, right? Ha, not quite.

That wish was something the old Emma wanted, but since demon god had to be such a bastard, this Emma doesn’t know what to think, let alone what to even feel. She hasn’t experienced the same hardships as her family. She hasn’t gone through hell and back while holding onto that one wish that would make all the suffering worth it. The amount of joy everyone else felt upon living out their dreams, she wonders if she would be able to feel it too.

They brought her here to make her happy, but is this truly want she wants as well? This is old Emma’s wish after all. What about her and what she wants? Could this wish make her just as happy as her old self? She knows her family is only trying to help, but seeing her doubt herself does a number on my heart. Even without her memories, she’s still the same Emma deep down, as she doesn’t want to disappoint her family. She spends so much time worrying about living up to her family’s expectations, to try and be that Emma they all love so dearly.

Little does she know that she acts the exact same as usual, almost as if nothing has changed when she finally expresses how much she wants to ride a giraffe. And that’s great considering when they first arrived at the giraffes, no on had even mentioned riding them. She came across that feeling all on her own and everyone else can’t help but laugh and feel relieved. Her mind may have forgotten but her heart remembers everything. There is no “old Emma” and “new Emma” to her family, just “Emma” and words can’t express how wholesome that is because they love her regardless. All that matters to them is Emma’s happiness because if anyone deserves to feel and experience that, it’s her.

I just made myself tear up, damn it. I started this series with season one okay? I heard about this precious girl’s dream within the first minute of the first episode and here I am, a little bit over two years later, finally reading about it coming true and seeing that bright as hell smile on her face. Do you know how amazing it is to come full circle like that? My heart feels so full right now. I’m beyond proud of her and love her to death. Say what you want but I believe this to be the true manga ending in my eyes.

(damn this series for always getting me emotional)

[immabethehero]

Marvin’s MegaBirthday Story

Guess who made a Megamind AU with Marvin as the title character?

Here’s a quick list of characters so you won’t get confused about who’s who:

Marvin, The Malevolent Magician - Megamind

Dr. Schneeplestein, the Doctor - Minion, but human

The Brighton Shepherd - Metro Man

Jackieboy Man, the Red Marauder - Sidekick to the Shepherd, original role of sorts

Chase Brody, news reporter - Roxanne Ritchi

Anthony/Anti - Hal Stewart, without the creepy simping

CW: Police brutality, hints of starvation, strangulation and mentions of electrocution

It was a glorious day in Brighton City. Even the weather seemed aware of it as the sun shone down brightly on the silver skyscrapers and the brand new museum built into the city square.

 To celebrate the city’s greatest superhero, the grand, new museum had been dedicated to the city’s greatest hero: The Brighton Shepherd. In between the two buildings was a giant curtain, hiding a 55 foot statue for the superhero.

Reporters came to the site as early as 6 am before the crowds could roll in. Among them was the up-and-coming journalist, Chase Brody, who ran the news vlog: “Just Your Average Report”. Wearing a brand new grey and white suit to honour the Shepherd’s signature colour, Chase did vocal warm-ups while his cameraman, Anthony, set up the equipment. Unlike Chase, who had dressed handsomely for the occasion, Anthony simply wore a graphic t-shirt and a fishing vest with blue jeans. Chase tried not to let that get to him. In all the fifteen months he’d known Anthony, Chase had never seen the man wear anything other than graphic tees and the fishing vest. Today obviously wasn’t much different to Anthony.

“We’re on!” Anthony said. Chase held up his microphone in time for the camera light to turn red; he exclaimed, “Happy Brighton Shepherd Day, Brighton City! It’s a beautiful day in our  beautiful downtown, where we’re here to honour a beautiful man: The Brighton Shepherd. His heart is as big as an ocean that’s inside a bigger ocean. For years, he’s been watching us with his super-vision, saving us with his super strength, and caring for us with his super heart. Now, it’s our turn to give something back! This is Chase Brody, reporting live from the dedication of the Brighton Shepherd Museum.”

Chase signaled to Anthony, who snorted as he turned the camera off.

“Damn, the stuff the producers make you read nowadays is incredibly cheesy. Have you considered writing your own stuff?”

“I have. That was one of my pieces,” Chase said with a grin. He reveled in Anthony’s look of horror.

“I mean… I can’t believe that in our modern day society, they let… actual art get onto the news,” Anthony stammered out.

“Nice save, Anthony.”

“Cool. Can we go get a coffee now?”

“Come on, it’s time to get into the Brighton Shepherd Day spirit!” Chase said, nudging his coworker.

Anthony rolled his eyes. “Please. If the Brighton Shepherd really was all that great, he’d be able to properly protect you from the Malevolent and his crazy Doctor. For someone who gets kidnapped and rescued all the time, you sure don’t have good security.”

Chase sighed. This debate again. “I mean, it’s good for my channel! I get to film bits and pieces of the Malevolent’s laboratory! Great publicity.”

“You take too many chances with that man, I swear. What happens if the Malevolent snaps and gets violent with you? The Shepherd and his sidekick won’t be there to protect you. You could die, Chase.”

“The Malevolent won’t hurt me. If he truly wanted to, he would have done so the first time he kidnapped me,” Chase snapped. “If anything, he just wants me for more publicity. I am a popular news source.”

“Yeah? Well, they don’t always strike at first sight, Lois Lane. The dude might be waiting for the perfect moment to torture you,” Anthony continued. “I mean, even if he doesn’t invent the machines, his sidekick is smart enough to make them! I swear that man has seen some stuff and wants to inflict it on the city.”

“The Malevolent and Doctor never want to torture. Their machines may look scary at first, but they’re useless. They only want to scare.”

Anthony began loading up the truck. “You’re too trusting.The Malevolent Magician has the power to mutilate and kill in ways your “friendship-is-magic” brain could never comprehend. The Doctor is no better. They’re both just waiting to strike. Once they do, the Shepherd’s presence won’t feel so reassuring, hm?”

Anthony had his back turned long enough for Chase to feel a cold presence beside him. The smell of gas flooded his senses. The reporter turned to hear a window roll down, though he didn’t see a car. Odd.

Instead a white plague doctor mask glared back at him. Chase groaned. Here he thought he might be able to avoid being kidnapped and used as leverage by the Malevolent Magician. Apparently not! The Malevolent’s sidekick, simply known as the Doctor, was here to claim his damsel in distress. 

The Doctor raised a spray bottle and squirted it directly in Chase’s face. Chase barely had time to scream as a sudden drowsiness overtook him and the whole world went dark.

*

Step one was complete. The annoying vlogger was in the back of the van. With that accomplished, it was time to pick up the villain. Dr. Henrik von Schneeplestein, known to the city as the sidekick to the Malevolent Magician, drove through the busy town square and out of the main city.

The prison where the Malevolent lay was outside of town in a secluded location, or rather, in the middle of the highway leading into the city. Despite its odd location, the security was incredible. 200 security officers patrolled the site, with at least three officers supervising a special room under intense lock and key. The Malevolent himself was usually locked in large chains that only unlocked at certain times, or if Mal had behaved himself for a certain amount of time.

Schneep arrived to see the prison in chaos. Sirens blared loud enough to burst a person’s eardrums while police ran into the grey building, yelling to each other and pulling out their guns.

Amid all the chaos stood a man with a thick white moustache, standing in front of the large electrical gates, The man held up his wrist enough for Schneep to spy a silver watch on his wrist and sighed in relief. The watch had worked.

“Well, hello, good looking. Need a ride?” Schneep said, opening the door.

“Always, my dear doctor!” the man said as he hopped in. He slammed the door closed as Schneep slammed his foot on the gas and flew off.

The man twisted the watch’s case and transformed back into Malevolent. The supervillain turned to Schneep with an evil grin. “Nice job sending me the watch, Doctor! Let’s ride!”

“As you wish, my Wickedness!” Schneep yelled.

The maltreatment Mal received from the prison was not lost on the doctor. His sharp cheekbones were grimy and more pronounced, and his wrists were almost skeletal. Dark shadows hung below his eyes, and it was not from eyeliner. Schneep held back a sad sigh. Thank goodness he left a snack for Mal when they returned to the evil lair. That part could be solved.

*

Back at Brighton City Square, the show was ready to begin. As city officials made their speeches, two superheroes waited behind a painted brick wall to make an entrance.

The illustrious Brighton Shepherd fixed his mask and combed his dark brown hair back. Beside him was his sidekick: the Red Marauder, clad in red, green, and blue leather. Marauder kept peeking behind the wall.

“Malevolent is safe behind bars as of right now, you can relax, Jackie,” Shepherd said, rubbing his protégé’s back.

“I can’t find Chase!” Marauder whispered back. “I’ve scanned the crowds three times and there’s no sign of his face.”

“Perhaps he’s stuck in traffic?” Shepherd said, smoothing out the creases in Marauder’s blue cape. His sidekick really needed to learn how to take care of himself.

“He would have sent me a text if that had happened,” Marauder said with a sigh.

“Went for a cup of coffee with Anthony?”

Marauder turned to the crowd. “Anthony is currently eating a donut by one of the food vendors. I think Malevolent and the Doctor kidnapped Chase again!” His eyes filled with tears.

The Shepherd sighed and put a hand on Marauder’s shoulder. “Okay, when the mayor does her speech, we’ll do a quick speedrun through town. He can’t be far. Don’t worry, we’ll get him back.”

Marauder nodded, blinking back tears. No time to cry when there’s a battle.

“Shepherd? It’s time,” an employee whispered. The Brighton Shepherd cracked his neck.

“Show time, baby.” He punched the painted brick wall concealing him, creating a perfect hole. “Alright, put your hands in the air!” he yelled to the crowd.

*

The lair lit up as the car entered and parked in its appointed place. Marvin threw the door open and breathed in the familiar smell of the evil, abandoned, Monster Munch snack factory. A long time ago, it smelled of moldy cheese puffs and rat manure, but now it smelled of malevolence, metal, and a whole lot of cologne.

No matter how many times he arrived, the sweet scent always relaxed the supervillain after a hard day in jail or fighting the Shepherd. “Oh Doc, there’s no place like our evil lair!”

“I’ve kept it cold and damp, just the way you like it!” Schneep said, hauling the sleeping Chase out of the car.

A swarm of tiny robots flew over to Marvin, their engines whirring with delight. The model was a small purple circle with four robotic legs that could grip and lift up to 1,000 pounds. Of course, each had cat ears attached to the sides of their heads and a cat tail at the back. The CATs,  Marvin had fondly called them. Their singular glowing yellow eyes in the center of their body looked up at their darling master.

“The CATs have certainly missed you, sir!” Schneep exclaimed.

Marvin bent down to caress their smooth heads. “Did you miss your daddy? Who’s a menacing little android? You are, yes, you are!”

One CAT held up a ball of twine. Marvin grabbed it and tossed it across the lair, the CATs trailing after it.

Two older models of the CATs held up a curtain while two others held up Marvin’s new suit. Marvin gratefully ripped off the ugly bluish-grey prison rags and changed into his white button-up, black dress pants, and sparkly purple vest. A CAT draped his famous black cloak with magenta lining around his shoulders while another handed him his beautiful cat mask with the magician’s card designs drawn on. He happily donned the mask with pride and stepped out.

“How do I look, Doctor? Do I look evil?” Marvin asked, spinning.

“Horrifyingly striking, sir,” Schneep said. He opened a small gate to an elevator platform, “Shall we?”

At the top, Schneep set Chase down on a chair while Marvin checked all the monitors and buttons.

“Everything ready?”

“Of course! I would never leave anything unchecked before a big event!” Schneep said. Beside the doctor, Chase began to stir, grunting and yelling muffled by the bag.

“He’s awake! Quick everyone, places!” Marvin ordered. He jumped onto his chair and motioned a small CAT to lie down in his lap while he fixed his hair once more.

Schneep ripped the bag off of Chase’s head as Marvin twirled his chair around, menacingly stroking the CAT. “Mr. Brody, we meet again.”

“Would it kill you to wash the bag?” Chase complained, “it fucking stinks and the spray bottle is no better!”

“You can scream all you want, Brody, I’m afraid no one can hear you!” Malevolent announced. Chase remained stone-faced.

Marvin frowned. “Why isn’t he screaming?”

Schneep sighed exasperatedly and bent down next to Chase, “Mr. Brody, if you don’t mind-”

“Screaming sounds a lot like this: aaaahhhhh!” Malevolent demonstrated. “I mean, that’s a poor example but-”

The CAT sitting on his lap bit his hand. Malevolent emitted a high-pitched shriek as he tried to shake the little robot off.

“Not to sound like a sadist but it’s more fun when you do it,” Chase deadpanned.

“Very funny,” the Doctor snapped. “You’ll be singing a different tune when the Brighton Shepherd is defeated right before your eyes!”

Ignoring both of them, Chase decided to examine the observatory, the usual spot for Malevolent and Shepherd’s battles. Most of it was the usual, a long control booth circling the room, full of buttons and levers that would release death traps, lasers, and other lame inventions. Above the panel were monitors of different sizes. On one side of the elevator was a broken vending machine where Doctor grabbed his sleeping spray, while on the other side was a strange metal sphere with axes and spikes sticking out of it (Chase asked and even Malevolent had no idea what it was).

“Speaking of watching, do you have your camera set up?” Malevolent asked, finally yanking off the biting CAT.

“Yup! It’s in the pin this time! Anthony helped me set it up!” Chase puffed his chest out to show it off.

Malevolent ran a hand through his thick black hair and twirled around, letting his cape fly in the wind.

“So guys, what’s on the menu for today? Robosheep? Typhoon cheese? A big ball of aluminum that will roll around town?” Chase asked.

Behind his plague doctor mask, Schneeplestein grinned. It was his time to shine! “Actually, we created a cool ray that uses the sun to make explosive lasers, wanna see?!” He excitedly rushed over to the main control booth and began typing in the passcode to turn it on.

Marvin yelped and pulled Schneep away from the booth, “Easy there, Doc, we’ll show it in time!”

“Brody wanted to see it!” Schneep protested. “It’s not like it would hurt, would it?”

“Think, Doctor! He’s using his nosy reporter skills to find out all our secrets!” Malevolent accused, snarling at Chase.

Chase rolled his eyes, chuckling. These two could be quite entertaining. “What secrets?! You’re so predictable!”

“Oh, that’s the insult for today?! Tell me, my dear Brody, would you call this predictable?” Marvin pulled down a lever and the floor around Chase opened up.

“Your alligators, yes!” Chase nodded in greeting to the snapping reptiles. “Yeah, I was just thinking about these guys on the way over!”

Truth be told, Chase was dreaming of riding a large parrot to Disney World while in the car. But Malevolent didn’t need to know that.

Marvin turned back to the panel. How dare Chase see through his armour?! He quickly slammed a button. “What about this?”

A sharp razor painted blood red danced in Chase’s face. “That’s kind of tacky.”

Marvin punched another button and a junky invention of multiple chainsaws attached to the ceiling lowered down. The chainsaws had gotten their chains stuck to each other and could barely move. Chase pretended to contemplate it. “Mm, juvenile.”

Marvin pulled another lever. “What about this?!”

A giant fart gun shot green gas out. Chase gagged. “Gross and immature!”

“What’s this one do?!” A weak fire machine coughed out small bits of fire.

“That’s just sad,” Chase said. He looked up and nearly jumped out of his seat. A small spider floated downwards. “Is the spider new?”

Marvin turned to Schneeplestein, who merely shrugged. When this was all over, Marvin was going to give him a stern talking to about bug extermination in the lair.

“Ah yes, the spe-dair-a,” Marvin whispered as he advanced closer to Chase. “Even the smallest bite from Arachnis Deathicus will instantly paralyze-”

Chase blew the spider onto Marvin’s cheek, causing him to scream again. Schneep punched him hard enough to knock him over.

“GET IT OFF GET IT OFF!!!! IT BIT MEEEEE!!!” Marvin screamed as Schneep continually smacked him with a newspaper. The spider fell off of Marvin’s cheek and began advancing to the control panel.

“STOP IT BEFORE IT DISAPPEARS!” Marvin howled as he crawled away from the disgusting creature.

After five minutes of Marvin’s dramatic wails and crawling and Schneep swearing like a sailor, Chase finally put an end to the spider’s life by stomping on it when it got close enough.

Marvin crawled over to Chase and grovelled at his bound feet. “Thank you, you are a lifesaver!” He suddenly spied the pin. “Is that still on?”

Chase smiled smugly, “I’ll burn the evidence if you let me go and we’ll never speak of it again.”

Marvin stood up, scowling, “Absolutely not! We haven’t even gotten to the fun part! Let’s pay your boyfriend and godfather a visit, shall we?”

*

Back at the town square, the mayor had finished up her rather short speech, “It is with great pleasure that I present Brighton Shepherd to his new museum! When you’re ready!”

Shepherd’s laser eyes cut the rope and the great curtains fell, revealing the giant statue of the superhero. A brass band played loudly over the sound of a cheering crowd.

Jackie applauded happily for his mentor, but couldn’t help but feel slightly jealous. In all fairness, the Shepherd had been around longer than he had, and he was still familiarizing himself with the city.

A sudden chill running up his arms woke Jackie from his thoughts. He looked up and gasped. Dark clouds quickly enveloped the museum. People shrieked in terror as a big, black blimp hovered above the great building, rolling down two large projection screens underneath. Once positioned on each side of the magnificent statue, a small circular robot holding a camera turned the screens on, showing the face of the one to blame for the chaos: the Malevolent.

The Brighton Shepherd and the Red Marauder flew up, Shepherd holding up a microphone.

“If it isn’t the Malevolent!”

“Bravo, Brighton Shepherd! Congratulations on your new museum!” Malevolent drawled, clapping slowly.

The crowd began to boo loudly. Malevolent blew a raspberry at the crowd, “So immature!” he scoffed.

“Should have known you’d try and crash the party!” Shepherd said.

“Oh, I intend to do more than crash it! This will be a historic day you, and Brighton City, will not soon forget!”

“We all know how this ends!” Shepherd said. “With you behind bars!”

“Ooh, I tremble in my kitten-skinned cape,” Malevolent hissed, playfully wrapping himself up in his cape. The cape was actually made from cotton, but the city didn’t need to know that.

“What do you want with us, Mal?” Shepherd demanded.

“First off, don’t call me ‘Mal’,” Malevolent snapped. “Secondly, if you and your tomato sidekick don’t leave town in an hour, then this will be the last you ever hear of Chase Brody!” Malevolent punched a button and the left screen presented the kidnapped Chase tied to a chair.

“I knew it!” Jackie muttered behind his mask.

“Don’t panic Chase! We’re on our way!” Shepherd cried out, earning a cheer from the crowd.

“I’m not panicking!” Chase responded, smiling.

Malevolent pretended to gag. “Oh, please. You have to find us first before you save Chase.”

“We’re at the abandoned observatory!” Chase quickly called out.

Malevolent suddenly turned off Chase’s camera, yelping, “WAIT DON’T TO LISTEN TO HIM-”

It was too late. Shepherd and Marauder were already flying above the dark grey smoke. Shepherd quickly spotted the broken down space observatory near the dangerous part of Brighton City beach and pointed it to Marauder. The two began their flight.

Back at the lair, Schneep watched the superheroes from his monitor. “Shepherd and Marauder approaching, sir!”

Marvin turned to Chase, who shot him a smug grin. Marvin only smiled in return.

“Like we said, you’ll be singing a different tune when you see what we have planned!”

The Shepherd would almost be here. Chase closed his eyes and ducked his head for the inevitable ceiling crash.

Shepherd and Marauder flew through the opening of the observatory and landed. Or rather, Shepherd landed gracefully on his feet while Marauder tripped and fell over. Behind them, the heavy doors slid shut.

Shepherd looked around. The place was quiet and eerily empty. No sound of any cat-bots. No evil laughter from the Malevolent.

“Something’s wrong…” Shepherd muttered. He turned to the doors. Were they locked in?! He ran over to check.

Puzzled, Chase looked up. Where were they?

Malevolent reveled in Brody’s confused expression. He fiddled with the control panel, opening up one of the walls.

“You didn’t think we were in the real observatory… did you?!”

Chase could stare in horror as he spotted the real observatory. He couldn’t believe it. He had led the two superheroes right into a trap.

Malevolent laughed triumphantly. “Ready the Death Ray, Doctor!”

Doctor typed in the passcode and pulled the lever down. “Death Ray ready-ing!”

In the real abandoned observatory, Shepherd and Marauder desperately tried to get the doors open.

“I can’t believe Malevolent actually tricked us! How did he seal the doors?!” Marauder moaned.

“Don’t worry Red, we’ll find a way out,” Shepherd said, smiling.

“Over here, boys,” a voice like ice called out. The superheroes turned to see a large projection of Malevolent smiling down on them.

“In case you haven’t noticed, you’ve fallen right into my trap!” Malevolent boasted.

The Shepherd motioned Marauder to find an escape before turning to Malevolent. “You can’t trap justice! It’s an idea! A belief!”

“Well sometimes the most heartfelt belief can be corroded over time!” Malevolent responded.

“Justice is a non-corrosive metal!”

“Then I will just melt it with the heat of revenge!”

“FYI, revenge is best served cold!” Shepherd corrected him. From the side, Marauder shook his head. As much as he respected his mentor and feared Malevolent, their “witty back-and-forth banter” was lame.

“It can easily be reheated in the microwave of evil! Don’t doubt me!” Malevolent snarled.

“Well I think your warranty is about to expire!” Shepherd declared.

“Fuck you, I have an extended warranty!” Malevolent retaliated.

“Language, my dear sir! And warranties are invalid if you don’t use the product for its intended purpose!” Shepherd roared.

“OH! Girls, girls, you’re both pretty!” Chase yelled from his seat. He turned to Malevolent, exasperated, “My whole body is sore. Can I just go home now?!”

Malevolent turned around to throw an empty can of Cola at Chase. It bonked off the side of his head.

“You’ll just have to wait, dear Brody! Your beloved superheroes first must prove if they can escape the inevitable power of the sun! Fire!”

Marauder conjured a shield for himself and Shepherd. When the Shepherd made no move to protect himself, Marauder realized nothing was coming. What happened?

Meanwhile, Marvin approached Schneep and the machine. Schneep learned against the panel, snoring softly. Marvin poked him, “Doctor, wake up!”

Schneep startled, “Oh! Sorry!” He turned to the machine, “The machine is still warming up. I expect we have a few more minutes before it fires.”

Marvin’s face turned as red as Marauder’s suit. “Warming up?! The sun is warming up?!”

Chase started laughing, “The sore arms and legs are definitely worth this riot. Just you wait, the Shepherd and Marauder will be on you in min-”

Malevolent tossed another empty can at Chase. Chase immediately shut up. “That’s better.”

“Don’t worry Chase, we’re on our way!” Marauder yelled from the monitor.

Malevolent stomped over to the camera, “Get here faster, I’m this close to throwing his stupid ass off the balcony!”

This caused Marauder to flip. “Hang in there Chase, I’m coming!” He rocketed up to fly out, only to crash into the ceiling and fall back down unceremoniously.

“Marauder, we’ve talked about this! You need to think before you do anything!” Shepherd lightly scolded. “Now, what do we have that can create a hole in the wall?”

“This whole day is a mess…” Doctor muttered from his spot at the panel.

“I’m sorry, whose side are you on?!” Malevolent demanded.

“The losing side!” Chase interjected.

“Everybody shut up,” Malevolent ordered. He sighed, rubbing his temples. “You know what? I need to take a nap. Call me when the ray is ready!”

“The ray is ready!” Doctor announced. In seconds a bright beam of yellow flew down, destroying the observatory in seconds. Fire and burning metal fell out of the demolished observatory, some of it flying directly towards the lair.

Malevolent quickly waved his hands in a circular motion, muttering. A shimmering purple bubble wrapped around Doctor and Chase. As debris rained down, Malevolent deflected them with bursts of purple fireworks. Chase watched in amazement, gaping.

“I keep forgetting he can do magic...” Chase muttered. “He uses so much technology instead.”

Doctor laughed, “Well, he’s not called the Magician for nothing.”

When the commotion calmed down and the debris stopped coming, Marvin twirled around, blowing a stray hair out his eye. The bright glow of the burning observatory behind the magician outlined his epic form. “Did your camera get that, Brody?”

Two more pieces of falling debris gracelessly smashed into Marvin. Chase happily squealed upon seeing the dusty forms of the Brighton Shepherd and the Red Marauder.

“I… should have seen that coming,” Marvin squeaked. “How did you escape so fast?”

“Laser eyes are a wonderful thing!” Marauder answered, giving Marvin a playful wink as he stood up. Marvin stuck his tongue out.

“The gig is up, Mal. We’re taking you back to jail, where you belong!” Shepherd declared. Marvin sighed and slammed his head down on the floor. Naturally, he lost. Again.

Schneep’s distressed cries snapped Marvin back to attention. He turned to his head to see Marauder on top of a struggling Schneep. Schneep’s whimpers and half-sobs were lost on Marauder, who continued tying his wrists behind him.

“Might as well send the Malevolent’s accomplice to jail as well! That way he won’t escape again!” the sidekick reasoned.

Something in Marvin snapped. “NO!” he screamed, startling the Shepherd. With his nemesis off his back, Marvin set his eyes on Brody and magically put the reporter in a choke hold.

Chase gasped raggedly as the air left his lungs.

Marvin whirled around to face Marauder, growling, “Let the doctor go!”

“Get your hands off Chase!” Marauder yelped, staring helplessly at his struggling brother.

“First, free the doctor!” Marvin shouted. He tightened his grip on Chase, lifting him out of the chair.

“Put Chase down!” Marauder roared, eyes glowing red.

Chase wheezed pathetically, black spots darting in his vision. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t breathe. He let out a strangled sob, tears falling. In all his time with Malevolent… he had never felt so scared.

Jackie’s eyes lost their glow and he loosened his grip on the Doctor. Underneath him, the Doctor moaned in pain.

“Let him go, Red.” Jackie turned to Shepherd in shock. The usually optimistic and brightly-smiling superhero had a grim expression on his face. Jackie spluttered.

“B- but- The Doctor will just free the Malevolent again! We could stop them both once and for all-”

“You heard me. Let him go,” Shepherd ordered. Reluctantly, Jackie stood up and backed away from the Doctor. The shaking man took no time running to the stairs and quickly disappearing.

Marvin waited until Schneep’s footsteps faded away before releasing Chase, gently laying him down. Chase gulped in tearful breaths, his body trembling. Marauder rushed over to free Chase while Shepherd tied the magician’s hands behind him.

The minute his hands were free, Chase threw his arms around Jackie. Jackie gently hugged him.

“Are you okay?” Jackie whispered. Chase nodded, still gasping.

“I’ll take Malevolent to jail,” the Shepherd said. “You get Chase to a hospital!” He took off, Malevolent dangling in his arms. The magician waved goodbye as he and the Shepherd disappeared into the city.

Jackie picked up Chase bridal style and started flying as well.

He kept the flight light and steady to keep Chase from getting sick. Chase buried his head in Jackie’s shoulder for most of the trip, eyes squeezed shut. He hated heights.

As they arrived at the hospital, a medical team waited outside to take Chase in. After the first few kidnappings, a special team offered to dedicate themselves to healing Chase in case he needed it.

“Ja-Jackie?” Chase stuttered. Jackie looked down at his almost unconscious friend.

“Ma-Make sure th-this doesn’t reach An-Anthony, oh-ok?” Chase begged between gasps.

Jackie nodded, confused. “Alright… I won’t tell him.”

*

The cell stunk. No one here ever bothered to put an air freshener in his jail cell, despite Marvin’s numerous polite requests to have it put in. According to the security guards, the Malevolent “could use it as a weapon” or a “gas bomb”. Please.

Marvin sighed as best as he could. As if to enact revenge for strangling Chase, the security staff had clamped an even smaller chain around his neck, making it hard to breathe. Or move. Or do anything. The rest of his body wasn’t much better, with a larger chain wrapped around his waist and movement sensory chains bruising his wrists. If he tried using any magic, the chains on his wrist would shock him. After today, electrocution was the last thing Marvin needed.

Marvin looked up to check the premises. After checking to make sure the guards were gone, Marvin snapped his fingers, careful not to move his wrists too much. Immediately, the chains loosened, allowing Marvin to take a shuddering gasp. He knew the minute he heard the guards coming to check on him, he had to tighten them again, so he took advantage of the situation.

At least the Doctor was free. He wasn’t being made to sit in a stinky, small cell, wrapped in large chains that threatened to strangle him at any moment. He was free to relax after a hard day, planning for the next breakout. For now, Schneep could rest.

Marvin leaned back against his chair, closing his eyes. Schneeplestein would help him escape again. For now, the magician himself will think of another plan to get back at the Brighton Shepherd.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

@graysun, @florenceisfalling, @miishae, @lonelyseiren, @goldenoceanaart, @oasisofgalaxies, @fleecal, @kofi-kiing, @myspatialspace, @jo-ann-ahh-2, @huffletrax, @indic0lite, @dumbasticart, @lunaarmada, @meteorshowersfillthesky, @uhhbeans,  @the-pastel-kitsune, @ptide  @climbing-starrs, @the-spawn-of-loki, @jadehowlettthewolf, @obsidiancreates, @rammypaige, @cest-mellow, @randowaffle, @green-protects, @dezi-popp, @badlypostedeverything, @crystalninjaphoenix, @milokno, @pixelpixie-pix, @why-killed-markiplier

[amwritingmeta]

You don't think killing Dean the way they did was contradicting to his character arc and development?

Hello, lovely!

As the initial shock of watching Dean die is wearing off more with each passing day, I can tell you that no, I don’t think that killing Dean the way they did was contradicting to his character arc and development. 

Let me explain.

And let me be clear, I’m basing this on my hopes and wishes for the narrative, for Dean, and they, in turn, sprung up from my reading of the narrative. 

My reading has always, as all meta readings are, been wholly subjective, though I’ve striven to be objective, trying to base my reading in my understanding of narrative structure and possible production choices as much as possible. The initial shock after the finale came from how the delivery of Dean’s endgame stepped outside of what I wanted and had grown to expect in those weeks leading up to it, due to 15x18 and queer love suddenly being a stated part of the narrative. 

Letting go of the idea of a long and happy life for Dean with Cas as a human on Earth, because that was simply the framework my brain invented to give them a happily ever after, I’d like to take a look at some of the other hopes and wishes I’ve had for Dean, in no particular order:

Dismantling the toxic masculinity ideal

Non-performance

Open communication and honesty

Self-acceptance leading to self-worth leading to self-actualisation 

Integration

Clear sense of identity

Learning to let go of need for control

Learning to trust

Feeling deserving of happiness and embracing it

Ending the codependency 

Teamwork and sharing responsibility/not feeling it’s all on him

Admitting to himself that what he longs for is to love and be loved

Believing in deserving to have a future

The world balanced out (no more firewall)

Putting the past to rest

Letting go of Protect Sammy as predominant purpose

Letting go of fear

No more Butch and Sundance/blaze of glory ending

Now, the more I think about all of these things in relation to S15 in general and the final three episodes in particular, the more those finale three episodes make me feel nothing short of delight for our characters. (sorry but it’s true) (I feel the distress of our family and it’s just horrifying but oh I do feel we need to take a breath together and calm down)

Here’s what I see. And what I see may come off as dismissive of people’s frustration and anger and disgust with the finale, but it’s not meant to be. I’ve always read this narrative how I described above, knowing that it’s impossible not to be subjective, but striving for objectivity.

Striving for objectivity by looking at what’s come before, the threads I’ve seen them pulling on, the overarching themes that have been consistent for fifteen years, the character traits that have been explored and narratively stated over and over again, and basing my analysis in these narrative constants.

So first, let us ask ourselves: was Dean’s death foreshadowed in S15?

The simple answer is that yes, it was.

It was foreshadowed by Amara saying that she wanted to release Dean from his anger, it was foreshadowed by Billie asking if it wasn’t time for the sweet release of death, and it was foreshadowed by the heart symbology peppered throughout the entire season.

Had it been coming for a long time?

Well, yes, it had. There were only two ways that his arc could end: him living or him dying, right? He’s died a lot, which is why I thought it should end in him living, finally, but let’s look at what the narrative tells us living constitutes:

fear (of losing his brother and of what’s around the next bend), as Dean admits in 15x17: he’s always afraid

pain, because the pain of losing Cas will never go away

Has Dean decided to deal with that? Yes, he has. He’s decided, by 15x20, to accept the loss, to look to the future, to not give up, to keep on fighting. He’s not even self-destructively looking for a case to distract him: instead he brings Sam to a freaking pie festival. Yeah? Dean is living his life.

This means that we’re shown him as having let go of toxic masculinity because he’s wholly non-performing at the start of 15x20, he’s openly communicating and being honest about the pain he feels over losing Cas, but as opposed to Chuck’s version of the “perfect ending” which was always tragic, where Dean losing Cas meant that he saw no purpose to living or fighting anymore, Dean takes that pain and is able to handle it because?

Because of Cas. Because of Dean internalising Cas’ view of him. Because of Dean being shown in 15x19 to grieve Cas, to want Cas back, to go through the motions (getting drunk etc.), only for him to realise (and yes the execution is lacking but I’m going to go with the narrative we have for the sake of this reading) that Cas isn’t coming back. 

By the end of 15x19, Cas’ words have taken such hold that Dean not only eases up on control and is shown to confidently share the responsibility for de-powering Chuck by working as a well-oiled team machine with Jack and Sam - because he trusts them, he’s also symbolically allowed to fully integrate by refusing to kill Chuck, because his Shadow (toxic masculinity as passed along by John the Bad Father Figure) (John also has a good side but he had a very bad side, for sure) no longer holds any sway over Dean, and because of Cas’ words, because of Cas’ faith in him, through Cas’ love for all that Dean is, Dean is given the sense of self-worth needed to finally be able to move into self-acceptance, allowing him to self-actualise, to integrate.

Cas saved Dean’s life AND saved Dean from his crappy self-view. I mean. It’s kinda fucking remarkable that this reading is right there for the taking.

So here we have the narrative ticking boxes like JAYSUS, yeah?

Let’s look it:

Dismantling the toxic masculinity ideal

Non-performance

Open communication and honesty

Self-acceptance leading to self-worth leading to self-actualisation

Integration

Clear sense of identity

Learning to let go of need for control

Learning to trust

Feeling deserving of happiness and embracing it

Teamwork and sharing responsibility/not feeling it’s all on him

Believing in deserving to have a future

The world balanced out (no more firewall)

And this, all of it, is thanks to LOVE. 

Because this is a story about love and... love.

So Dean being able to integrate thanks to Cas’ love is, to me, all about Dean opening himself up to the fact that what he wants, truly wants, and has always wanted (and needed, for that matter) is to be loved for who he is, and to allow himself to feel that very same unconditional love for another.

In the act of letting go of needing Cas back to somehow validate that love or validate Dean actually truly being deserving of receiving and giving love, we get the unconditional aspect of it underlined. There’s no dependency anymore. No fear attached to the emotion. Just the love itself, untouched by death. The healthy side to that profound bond that’s always kind of tripped these two up before. I mean. I think it’s kind of breathtaking.

Also, I’ve been told there’s an application that we see on Dean’s desk for him to get a job as a mechanic, which seems to me an underlining that Dean is looking to the future and in so doing is shown to feel deserving of happiness and embracing it. Something that I feel is established at the beginning of the episode, even without this detail, but is brought into focus thanks to it.

Dean doesn’t want to die. He has no desire to die. The implication being that he’s trying to make the best of what he’s got and is completely honest with himself about what he wants. Not owning a bar, but working on cars. The good side of John getting a nod, or so I would say. Especially poignant in an episode so heavily focused on Good Father Figures. 

I haven’t seen the detail of this application for myself though, I just trust my sources. :)

Now we get to the meatier part of this reading: Dean and Sam.

What do we have left on the list of hopes and wishes of stuff to be addressed as pertaining to Dean?

We’ve got:

Ending the codependency 

Putting the past to rest

Letting go of Protect Sammy as predominant purpose

Letting go of fear

No more Butch and Sundance/blaze of glory ending

I wonder if you might already be seeing where I’m going with this, but for good measure, let’s discuss the death scene and what it narratively results in for Dean and for Sam.

Dean and Sam end up in that barn because they’re two men who will not stand for harm coming to innocent lives, especially when those innocent lives belong to two little kids. This is who they are at their core.

Dean is killed by a vampire wearing a mask. Yeah. Someday perhaps I’ll make proper sense of it. Point is: Dean is impaled on a rusty nail that imbeds itself in his heart and sort of holds him together until the moment of his passing, giving him time to ask his brother to stay (zero performance and only vulnerability) and tell Sam exactly what Sam has always meant to him.

Which, for Dean, is vulnerability on steroids. Honesty times one thousand. In your face true identity flares of beauty.

This scene is stunning. When I watched it the second time around last Saturday I was blown away. Jensen makes this scene what it is, because it is such an absolute mirror of Dean’s scene with Cas and the differences to Jensen’s acting choices are paramount to the emotional significance of either. (oh Misha was extremely paramount to the declaration of love, don’t get me wrong, but here we have Jensen pivotally impactful, since he’s in both)

And through this mirroring we have two major threads of this narrative on display and effectively highlighted and tied up: the familial vs the romantic.

Because this is a story about love and... love.

The thing that I’ve been turning over in my head a lot is the codependency aspect here. I’ve had issues with it. Could it only be broken by Dean’s death? 

And no, I don’t think that’s what’s happening here at all. 

This moment is absolutely about the codependency breaking. In part. But it’s also about Dean going out bittersweetly, suddenly, without any glory or blaze, and it’s a very human, very real, very grounding moment to me for his arc: he didn’t expect it to be today, but it is.

*i’m seriously cry*

And Sam’s grief is so raw. I wish Sam had gotten to break away on his own. I’ll always wish that for him. That he could’ve seen his worth as a leader and leaned on that and on his love for Eileen, but Sam’s arc was always, always dependent on Dean’s progression, and this is what Dean’s arc needed in his final moment: clarity, honesty, trust, faith, letting go. A voicing of the fear, of the past, of what got them here, of the dependency - it was always you... and me - and both of them choosing, in the moment, to recognise the finality of it.

The entire show has revolved around these two men’s absolute inability to let go of each other and the stupidity and recklessness this inability has resulted in. Choice after choice serving to bring about the near apocalypses they’ve kept finding themselves in.

And reflecting itself in that has been the dependency Dean has felt for Cas’ presence, his annoyance and worry and fear whenever Cas has disappeared, how Dean’s progression has stopped in its tracks whenever Cas has been removed from the narrative.

So for this scene of the familial love allowing a letting go of that dependency to reflect itself once more so beautifully in how the romantic love allowed for a letting go of that dependency is kind of. I don’t even know. Everything glitters?

Dean finding peace ultimately has everything to do with having met, known and fallen in love with and having been loved by this angel of his. 

But is that canon? 

I mean, it’s subtextual canon, which is good enough for me, because it was all I ever expected and it’s such a blatant statement through the couples in love losing each other leading into Dean and Cas losing each other that there’s just no doubt in my mind how we’re meant to be understanding what these two men mean to each other, and from that draw the conclusions of what it is that’s influencing Dean’s moment of integration.

Does Dean’s death make a statement that happiness and love can only be found in death?

No. It really does not. Because that’s not what the narrative message is. Because Sam finds love and happiness by living his life. And I sincerely disagree with Sam being depicted as being depressed his whole life (the way Dean was with Lisa) because he lost his brother. Sure, there could’ve been pictures of all the found family when Sam is on his death bed, but he’s also thinking about the brother he lost and that’s simply a visual establishing of this fact. Could there have been more? Sure! But that doesn’t mean that all Sam cares about was Dean for all his life, living it in grief and loss. 

Sam loves his son, helps his son, laughs with his son, is a good father figure to his son, and this thread is pulled on throughout the episode: the good father figure thread. 

Dean’s goodbye to Sam isn’t just a brother saying goodbye to a brother.

It’s a father bidding farewell to his child. It’s a father gently relieved to not have to watch his son die. To get to go first. And yes, sure, that’s sad, but it’s also very human and real and says so much about their relationship.

Dabb era has hit the father/parental thread so hard that the Good Father thread running through this episode makes perfect sense to me.

Dean goes to Heaven not to find Cas, not expecting Cas to be there, but finding Cas there all the same (reward for letting go and having faith that if he’s meant to, and why wouldn’t he be, then he’ll see Cas again *headcanon*), and more than that, learning that Cas has made Heaven what it is now, moved Heaven away from trapping souls in endless memory loops (which was benevolent enough, but completely missed the point of what it means to be human) and that now there’s discovery and exploration and more life to be lived, because Heaven is overflowing with free will, with choice, with all the possibility for longevity and happiness.

The eternity that Dean deserves. 

Created for him by Cas. 

Cas ensuring Dean’s death is not an ending, but a beginning. That it’s not a prison for Dean’s mind, but instead a homecoming, filled with the prospect of reconnecting with all the people Dean has ever cared about, ever loved.

I mean, the fact that Cas’ prevailing faith in Jack has enabled all this is like strobe lights for the fucking brain.

And the irony is that while I focused entirely on how Cas needed to be grounded and choose to live a human life on Earth, the narrative had other plans (okay yeah the writers) and instead brought Dean to Heaven, and immortality.

It takes away the final obstacles for giving these two a happily ever after.

It also reflects itself in how Mary, in Heaven, is “complete”. She’s with John. She’s at peace. She’s happy. And who have always been fairly strongly tied (through mixtapes and whatnot) to Mary and John Winchester? Yeah. 

Also, Cas the angel will never age and will never die, and him with human Dean, watching Dean grow old and die only to go visit Dean in his little Heaven always made me depressed. Human!Cas took care of that, but left the Heaven conundrum wide open. And now it’s just gloriously fixed. 

And, speaking of, Cas got to FIX HEAVEN. And he’s fixing it together with his son. All of that faith, all of that struggle, completely rewarded. And Cas building that Heaven in wait for Dean to arrive, because if Dean hadn’t died in that barn (take me back to the night we met...) Dean would’ve died at some point, and Cas can wait, he just wants to make sure there’s happiness waiting for Dean when he arrives. I’m sorry but OMFG. I’m just so happy for our Castiel!!

Could Dean not know happiness on Earth?

I think he was on his way. I think there would always be that pain and that fear, but he was ready to accept that and make the most of it and live his life. Only... his heart is missing, because his heart went away, and perhaps there’s this chance that he’ll find it again, because he always has before, but he doesn’t know, and he doesn't expect it, and that’s okay, he can wait, and then he’s brought to Heaven, and there it is, and he smiles that smile and Heaven is basically complete apart for one final piece.

Because of course Dean would wait for Sam. 

Now. I realise this is my reading of this narrative. No one needs to accept it as the begin all, end all reading. I’m only hoping that it will offer a counterweight to the absolute and utter negativity being bandied around as the only true begin all, end all, because I do not see it or believe that it’s all there is to this finale.

There’s beauty here. And discounting it, at least the possibility of it, even if it’s not exactly what I’ve laid out in this reply, because of frustration of not getting textual Destiel is not doing anyone any good. We got subtextual Destiel, we got subtextual bisexual Dean, and it’s confirmed. To my mind, it’s confirmed.

That’s everything I ever dared expect. And that expectation came solely from how clear the subtext has always been, how invested the writers have seemed in it, and the actors too. 

And Cas is canonically queer. 

Which is fucking amazing and truly enormous and I’ll talk very gently about why I don’t feel his death was a case of BYG in a separate post, but Cas is alive in the narrative as it’s been presented to us, and he’s in love with Dean and they get to be together in the Heaven Dean deserves, remodelled for Dean by Cas. If that’s not the beginning of a happily ever after, then I don’t know what is!

Thanks for asking, love. I’ve been meaning to write all this down and have spent the afternoon doing so. It’s quite cathartic!

xx

[yandearest]

May The Odds Be Ever in Your Favor (Hoseok x Reader Hunger Games AU) Chapter 3: The Assessment

Summary - Living in District 4 you never thought you would have to worry about being selected for the Hunger Games. With a training centre right near the dock of the houseboat you lived and fished from, your district was known for volunteers who trained their whole lives for a shot at glory and riches. But at age 18, your name is called and no girls volunteer to take your place. Your devastation is answered when Kim Namjoon volunteers for the males shortly after. Tall, muscular, highly intelligent and charming, the years of diligent preparation have bestowed Namjoon with the expectation of being the next District 4 champion after Finnick Odair last won 3 years ago.

Fishing for a living has granted you skills with a knife but, as your mentor Finnick is quick to describe, your beautiful face may well be your best asset.

Upon arrival in the Capitol you are quickly faced with the reality that Namjoon may not even be the biggest danger inside the Arena. Especially when you capture the obsessive attention of District 2′s own volunteer, and killing machine, Jung Hoseok. Hope soon fades from ‘survival’ to ‘the mercy of a painless death’ but Hoseok certainly has other plans.

Pairing - Hoseok x (fem)Reader

Genre - thriller, angst, yandere

Word Count 7K

Warnings - [in later chapters] major character death, graphic depictions of violence, swearing, obsession, dubcon-smut (smut will be marked so reading is optional), gore, unrealistically beautiful oc because I’m a sucker for that shitty trope and want to live vicariously through my writing (sue me)

The following is a dark fic featuring a yandere character, violence, obsession, and coercion. By no means does writing about this in a fictional setting condone any of those behaviours, much like Stephen King writing horror doesn’t mean he approves of psychotic killers in reality. Please avoid reading if any of these warnings makes you uncomfortable.

Previous Chapter: 1, 2

Cross posted on A03 so people can subscribe for updates/notifications

Throughout the course of your life you had found that the more you dreaded something, the faster it arrived. As you sat in the waiting room, waiting for the call to go into the training center alone for your final assessment, you couldn’t help but think of just how fast the training process had gone by, and that in less than twenty-four hours you would be inside the dreaded arena.

During your knot tying session after your incident the on the first day, you had formed a slight friendship with Krystal, who had asked if everything was okay. You had lied, saying you were fine, too afraid of telling her the truth after Namjoon had just blown up on you, and she simply had nodded in acceptance. But you could tell she didn’t buy that answer from the way she seemed to treat you with a little extra kindness. You stuck to her like glue for the rest of the training period, refusing to separate within the career pack without Krystal by your side. It was an odd dependency given she was the smallest of the lot of you, but she had taken to it rather well. She never asked you about it, but immediately went along, making sure you were always by her side during any activity. You could tell Hoseok was furious – constantly shooting glares in Krystal’s direction – but there was nothing he could do without disrupting the whole alliance, and proving that he was indeed the psychopath he had revealed only to you in private.

You had spoken briefly to Finnick about things the night after the incident with Hoseok. As a mentor he wasn’t happy, but his hands were also tied as there was nothing he could do to interfere with another district. He had suggested he could speak to District 2’s mentor to try and get more information on Hoseok’s background but you had immediately shut that down, terrified that it would somehow get back to Hoseok and he would think you were reciprocating his own interest. The idea was also dangerous because it would expose just how threatened you were to their mentor, who could easily use that to their advantage when coming up with game tactics. Finnick had reluctantly agreed not to do anything, but turned the topic of conversation onto your remaining training time. He had suggested a focus on weapons, particularly knives given you already had some experience with them.

“Focus on what you already know,” he had said “Don’t waste time trying to learn new things that others are already experts with. You cannot hope to beat a master with only a few days of training. Hone the skills you already have.”

So that’s largely what you had spent the rest of your training time doing. By her own admission Krystal’s report card had suggested training with a weapon that could compliment her own agility, which worked out well with knives too, so you spent a lot of your time training together. You found out that despite being a District 1 tribute, she was also reaped, and not a volunteer, like yourself. But unlike you she had been trained at an academy, which was standard practice in 1. A far more interesting detail you had learned was she was Yoongi’s younger sister, and he had volunteered after her reaping. You filed that detail away in the back of your mind for future reference, grateful that some sort of partnership already existing in the alliance could potentially lessen the target on yourself later when it came to splitting.

You played off each other, regarding your knowledge of knives. Krystal was far more skilled in close range combat, and she gave you pointers when you trained in sparring using a prop version (made from a material of the same weight, which still caused some bruises, but wouldn’t actually cause stab wounds). She also helped you improve your skills in countering attacks and using a larger opponents’ body weight against them. Looking at Hoseok and Namjoon respectively you were terrified to know her lesson would very much be a life or death skill you needed to learn. In return you talked to her about your experiences with spear fishing and occasionally using a knife instead in shallow waters, passing on what you could about how to throw a knife. It was a skill you had picked up when you much younger, after being taught by your father when you were seven. Your mother had been furious when she found out and immediately banned you from knives until you were old enough to be working on the boat, but your father had still snuck in training sessions whenever the two of you were alone. It was never something you thought you would be using to potentially kill a human, rather than a salmon or tuna. You hadn’t even thought of it then, but it was likely his way of trying to prepare you for if your name was ever drawn from the reaping. Even though it was essentially impossible, a part of you desperately hoped you would survive in order to be able to thank your father in person.

You and Krystal worked well together, you had a natural chemistry, and both of you didn’t feel a need for wasting oxygen with meaningless small talk or chit chat. Your skills both complimented one another and you found yourself learning a lot. It wasn’t much of a bond from merely a couple of days, but you hoped whatever you had worked to build would translate into some sort of partnership in the arena.

The remaining of your training had passed as well as you could have hoped for right up until the final moments of the last day. You and Krystal had taken a bathroom break. Afterwards, when you were about to walk out of the washroom and back into the hallway outside, you could hear familiar voices beyond the door. Frowning, you opened the door just a crack to hear Namjoon talking to Yoongi, Hoseok and Athena.

“Seriously, she thinks you’re in love with her,” Namjoon laughed, clasping his hand on Hoseok’s shoulder. You felt the blood immediately drain from your face and a stone cold chill run throughout your body. You had seen Namjoon and Hoseok getting on better within the last day, but you weren’t expecting Namjoon to be at a level of already throwing you under the bus.

“Really? When did she say that?” you could hear Hoseok ask, although you couldn’t see him from the crack in the doorway.

“First day, back when she was in tears over that pathetic report,” Namjoon replied with a scoff. “Asked her what happened and she went on some crazed rant that you were going to save her. Honestly lost her mind on day one, why the hell we’re supposed to drag her around the arena is beyond me.”

“She’s not that bad, have you seen her throwing the knives with Krystal? Could be useful,” the only female voice had to have been Athena, and you made a mental note to thank her later.

“Please, she’s a baby. Wouldn’t be able to hurt a fly,” Namjoon scoffed. You wanted to storm out and show him how willing you would be to hurt him, but remembering a warning from Finnick held you back, ‘play along and act dumb so they think you trust them and are too stupid to make plans for yourself'. You couldn’t wait for the chance to stab Namjoon in the back at this rate.

“So why are we keeping her around then?” A bored voice you had rarely heard asked. That had to have been Yoongi.

“Her brains may be non-existent, but the empty head that carries her around isn’t too bad to look at. I say we keep her for the sponsors, get us some supplies from her capital fans. Maybe if we can get her to flash those perfect tits she’s covering up we can get extra out of them. Plus, if the arena gets cold I’m sure she can also make herself useful as a bed warmer too.” Your jaw dropped open at the vulgar way your supposed teammate was talking about you. You hadn’t even spoken to Namjoon since the incident on the first day, ignoring him whenever you were in the same living quarters and spending your training time with Krystal. Like hell you would be going anywhere near his ‘bed’ in the arena. Krystal looked equally as disgusted.

“Gross,” Athena deadpanned.

“What? It’s not like what I’m saying isn’t true, and it’s better her than you, right? Beautiful face, hot body, but not the sharpest tool in the shed. Throwing knives from a distance isn’t much of a threat in close combat so we can easily take her out at the end. Hey, Hoseok seeing she acts like you’re going to be her precious Romeo you can be the one to take care of our dear Juliet when the time co-” before you could snap and storm out to attack Namjoon yourself, Hoseok beat you to it. Like a viper, his hand shot out in lightning speed to grasp Namjoon by the throat and slam him into the nearest wall.

“Or how about I take care of you?” he practically purred, springing a jackknife he had somehow slipped into his clothing out and holding it against Namjoon’s throat, until you heard a scuffle of someone trying to pull him off. Yanking the bathroom door open you rushed out into the hallway, Krystal following quickly behind, to see Namjoon leaning against the wall rubbing his throat, as Athena and Yoongi restrained a livid Hoseok.

“What the hell is going on?” Krystal asked, looking between everyone. Even if you had overheard everything, you just stood there next to her, wanting to play up the ignorance they dismissed you as having.

Nobody answered, looking between each other as if waiting for them to be the first to talk. Of all people, it was surprisingly Yoongi to be the one to break the silence.

“Put that thing away,” Yoongi snapped, nodding at Hoseok’s flat knife. “Do you want us to all get beaten to a pulp by the guards before we even get to the arena?” Hoseok complied without any words, smoothly placing the knife back into a hidden pocket in the front of his pants.

“What the hell do we do now?” you asked, staring at the others. “A day before the games and a fight breaks out? How are we meant to work together in there?”

“Nothing changes,” Hoseok spoke. You frowned back, like hell nothing had changed.

“You just pulled a knife on my district partner,” you replied. You weren’t complaining but he didn’t need to know that.

“Nothing changes,” Namjoon repeated to your surprise.

“Seriously?”

“Yes, seriously. We’re men. Men fight. Shit happens but we get it out of our system. Logically we’re still each others best bet in the arena.” Namjoon continued. You had to physically restrain yourself from rolling his eyes at the ‘men’ declaration.

“He’s right,” Hoseok agreed and all you could do was stare dumbly, wondering how the hell the two of them had gone from pulling a knife a second ago, to now suddenly agreeing.

“Like hell I’m leaving you, Athena isn’t leaving me, your district mate isn’t interested in leaving you either, and I assume Krystal has interests in working with you from all that training you’ve done together. Yoongi’s not going to leave his sister, so we’re all stuck together.”

“What if I don’t want to work with any of you?” you challenged.

Namjoon scoffed.

“If you really had the balls to walk away, you would’ve done it on day one. Especially given how I treated you when you were telling the truth.” You glared back at him for blatantly exposing you.

“If you split, you’re the easiest target for all the other tributes.” Hoseok stepped away from Yoongi and Athena to walk towards you. “That’s 18 other people trying to kill you, so you know I’m not going to let that happen. As I just told you, I’m not leaving you.”

You hadn’t heard much from Hoseok since that moment in the hallway on day one. A part of you had managed to convince yourself it was all a stunt, just like Namjoon had said, to psych you out and cause division in your alliance. Hearing him bluntly announce his intentions to the whole alliance, as he came to stand directly before you, caused the delusion to shatter.

“Leave her alone.” You were becoming so entranced by Hoseok’s presence that it took you a moment to process Krystal’s voice as she moved herself closer to you, standing so her shoulder was slightly in front of yours. Your heart momentarily warmed at the gesture before it was doused in the cold ice of your conscious as you remembered his sickening threats from the last time you and Hoseok were alone ‘I don’t care about the others… I’ll slaughter every one of them in cold blood… I’m going to kill them all for you baby and I’ll make you watch so you can see just how far I’ll go for you’

“No Krystal, don’t!” you cried in a panic as you reached out for Krystal and pulled her into a protective hug, putting your body in front of hers before Hoseok. “You don’t understand,” you whispered in a rush to try and explain. “He’s crazy, he said he was going to kill all of you. I tried to tell Namjoon and he didn’t believe me so I was too scared to tell anyone else, because I was scared you’d think I was crazy.”

You were trying not to cry, you couldn’t panic, you couldn’t be weak again like the state they had found you in last time, but it was so fucking hard. Why did you have to be reaped? Why did one of the tributes have to form an obsession with you? Why was your own district mate an asshole who had invalidated you when trying to protect the alliance? All you had wanted was to not be alone in the arena, and now you had a hope of someone you could trust and she was in danger because of you.

“It’s ok, I’m ok,” Krystal whispered back, patting your lower back reassuringly. But a sudden grasp on your waist from behind pulled you away, causing you to lose your hold on Krystal as you slammed backwards into a hard chest with a cry.

“Yoongi take care of your sister unless you want me taking care of her in the arena,” Hoseok’s voice hissed from behind your ears, making your blood run cold.

“No, don’t hurt her, please, please don’t hurt her,” you begged, twisting in Hoseok’s hold but his arms were locked around you tightly. Yoongi didn’t say a word, walking over to Krystal and putting his hand on her shoulder to lead her away. She initially moved to shake him off but you vigorously shook your head and mouthed ‘go’ to get her to leave.

“We’ll see you at the cornucopia tomorrow,” Yoongi turned back to say, before you exhaled in temporary relief as Krystal reluctantly left with her brother.

“Whatever you do with her, I don’t want any part of it. We’re aligned until six and then that’s it,” Athena sneered, drawing your attention over to her as she glared between Namjoon and Hoseok.

“Fine with me,” Hoseok shrugged. Namjoon who was now leaning casually against the wall merely nodded. You could swear you saw a torn look of sympathy from Athena in your direction, but it was gone in a second as she shook her head in disgust and walked off to re-join Krystal and Yoongi.

With Athena gone the tension that hung in the air was so thick it was suffocating. Namjoon continued to rest against the wall, his arms crossed over his wide chest watching as Hoseok still held you by the waist. With Krystal now safe with her brother away from him you realized there was no longer a need to stay compliant in his grip.

“Namjoon, help,” you hissed, trying to move your arms to shove Hoseok off but they were both pinned to your sides by his hold. Hoseok merely chuckled, instead flexing his muscles and causing his grip to tighten.

“No can do little dove,” Namjoon mocked with a pout, moving off from the wall to stand to his full height. “Your boyfriend here’s the one with the knife in his pocket, and I’m unarmed.”

Namjoon raised his hands in mock surrender, his long legs taking lazy steps to walk around the two of you. Hoseok turned, forcing you to turn with him, to avoid his back being left open. Namjoon ignored him, keeping his eyes on you.

“But don’t worry, because in that arena I’ll be armed, and I’ll take really good care of you then.”

“Like hell,” Hoseok scoffed causing Namjoon to laugh.

“Oh, would you look at the time?” Namjoon was now further down the corridor that separated the bathrooms from the training center, where he could see the large clock on the wall.

“Only five minutes left until end of training before they start preparing for our grading. I’ll leave you two alone for now, but don’t expect this generosity again from me in the arena, 2. I trust you won’t harm our little dove until then…”

And with that lingering comment, Namjoon was gone, abandoning you when you needed him.

You felt Hoseok’s arms beginning to loosen, briefly you thought he was going to release you. But instead you found yourself being turned around to face him and backed against the wall. Any thoughts of pushing him off vanished upon feeling the hard metal of the folded pocket knife pushing against your hip as he caged you in.

“What are you doi-” your question was cut off by Hoseok raising his hand to the side of your face and pushing his thumb over your mouth in warning.

For a moment Hoseok was still. He relished the feeling of your plump lips falling silent beneath his thumb, so pliant, like a kiss against his finger. He watched the rise and fall of your chest as you tried to regulate your breathing, inhaling deep breaths in through your nose causing your lungs to expand and your full breasts to push against his chest. Every little detail about you was so soft, so warm and inviting, like you had been designed purely for him. He was absolutely enamored by you and could spend the rest of his life in this exact moment, feeling you against him, but time was not on his side.

“Look at how they all just left you,” he maliciously purred, his eyes narrowing into a focused glare, “you know they’re going to do the same thing in the arena, darling.”

“That’s not true,” you hissed back, “Krystal tried to stay.”

“And yet all it took for her to leave was a simple pocket knife and her brother. And really, when it comes down to it, who do you think she will choose, Her brother or you?”

You tried to swallow the growing lump in your throat and stayed quiet… he’s just trying to psych you out.

“Meet us in the cornucopia tomorrow, you’ll be much safer with us six than left to fend off eighteen others on your own. You’re smart, you have to know they will chase down any career left alone.”

You frowned but nodded, you had already agreed on this, so you didn’t know why he was bringing it up again.

“Good girl, then you know you have to stay with me once we’re all together. Yoongi sees you as a threat to his sister. Your friendship makes her judgment weak so he will take you out if you’re alone with him. And like I just said, do you really want to side with Krystal when she would choose her brother over you at the end anyway? Athena is threatened by you; thinks you’re distracting me from protecting her in the game as part of our district alliance. I don’t blame her for that though, she is right. I would choose you over her. You know I’d choose you over any of them. And then of course there’s your own district partner, who I’m sure you just heard before… would you trust a man who wants to use your body to sell you to fans from the capital for supplies? The one who didn’t believe you when you tried to warn him about me? The one who just walked away and left you to me now?”

An aching wave of hopelessness washed over your body as you slumped back against the wall. If it wasn’t for Hoseok’s arm holding you upright, you would have just let yourself fall to the ground.

“Please stop,” you whispered, the lump in your throat felt like a golf ball choking you inside.

“I can’t, darling,” Hoseok murmured, his fingers over your lips moving to smooth the faint hairs that had come loose from training back behind your ear.

“Not until you understand that you need me in that arena.” His hand came to rest on the side of your cheek, cradling your face in his palm.

“I’ve trained for this my whole life, I’m the only one you can trust to protect you.”

“But how can I trust you? Like you just said you spent your whole life training for these games, training to kill people like me. It’s all hopeless, no matter who I choose.”

“Don’t say that,” He scolded, shaking you by the hold on your waist.

“You saw me pull that knife on Namjoon before, and I didn’t even know you were there. It’s exactly like I told you on the first day of training, I’ll kill anyone who tries to harm you. No one in that arena matters to me, only you. You’re mine.”

“How can you keep saying that!? We don’t even know each other. I don’t understand how you could possibly feel this way about me. It all just sounds like a cruel way for you to take me to the e-”

Hoseok’s mouth silenced your protests, his lips pushing against yours and hands holding you in place. His kiss was searing and dominant, offering no chance for refusal, though as you felt the shivers running down your spine, you didn’t know if you would have been capable if a chance were provided. You had found him physically attractive the moment you had met, and somehow it was like the passion you had seen in his eyes was magnified a hundredfold through his kiss. He was strong and powerful, yet simultaneously gentle. His arm supporting your waist held your body impossibly close to his, whilst the fingertips from his hand on your face were tenderly stroking the skin on your cheek.

Your eyes had unconsciously closed when his face had moved in to meet yours, which only seemed to heighten your other senses. The places where his body made contact with yours were tingling as if flames from a nearby fire were licking against your skin. Everything about Jung Hoseok was warm; his sun kissed skin, copper hair and the heat radiating from his body into yours. You were stunned, and in your frozen state Hoseok moved his lips against your pliant ones to deepen the kiss, the tip of his tongue dancing along the line of your mouth before sliding inside to meet your own tongue and try to coax it to return with his.

What somehow felt like an eternity was in reality a mere few seconds before an announcement echoed through speakers throughout the training center, instructing tributes to cease everything and make your way to a designated area for the mandatory final assessments to shortly begin. Hoseok broke the kiss, leaving you breathless as he whispered upon your lips,

“If you can’t believe my words, then believe that.”

Pressing his lips back to yours quickly once more, he finally pulled back.

“Come on, we have to go.”

You mutely allowed Hoseok to lead you out of the corridor and back into the training center where a Capitol representative with a clipboard was lining everyone up to be taken to the waiting area. There was no talking from anyone as you were all put into your lines and made to follow the representative into a smaller room, whilst the training center was to be rearranged. The waiting room was small and cold with metallic coloring. Black chairs were organized by districts and you were told that one by one you would be brought before the judges to present your chosen skill, where you would then be graded on a score out of twelve. The scores would be announced later in the afternoon, before your final interviews with Caesar Flickerman in the evening.

You wordlessly sat beside Namjoon, not even looking in his direction even though you could occasionally feel him trying to catch your eye. No doubt he would want to dissect your conversation with Hoseok but you had no interest in telling him about anything that had happened. Especially not after how he had treated you the last time you had tried to warn him. Instead you kept your eyes solely on the ground, nervously bouncing your leg as you worried about your upcoming grading.

Everything was happening so fast. It felt like only moments ago when your name had been reaped, since then you had already travelled by train, appeared in the parade and completed your three days of training. You felt sick in your stomach at the thought that the short time that had passed between your reaping and this very moment could possibly be longer than the time you had between now and when you would meet your end in the arena. You immediately tried to stamp that thought out, trying to hold back the overwhelming wave of grief threatening to crash over you. You couldn’t let yourself go down without a fight and giving in to the misery would only reduce you to a walking corpse.

“District 1, female.”

The man with the clipboard had returned to the room to officially begin the assessments. You noted how he didn’t even call for Krystal by her name, just a district number and her assigned gender. How cold and clinical, much like the room they were keeping you in. You wondered if reducing tributes to numbers without names made it possible for the man to sleep at night, knowing he was part of a system that sent innocent children to the slaughter every year.

“District 1, male.”

As Yoongi left with the clipboard man you couldn’t help but notice Krystal didn’t come back into the room with him. So you would be allowed to return to the dorm and prepare for the interviews as soon as you were done. You were grateful this would at least mean a few hours’ break from Hoseok, you would just have to lock yourself in your room quickly before Namjoon would finish after you, and try to interrogate you in your living quarters.

“District 2, female.”

No one had spoken since the line up. All too focused on mentally preparing for the assessment. You felt for the younger tributes who had never picked up a weapon before a week ago, now having to present themselves as fighters before a panel with only 3 days of training. Once again you were grateful for your father for his insistence on training you with a knife, which at least gave you somewhat of a starting point to work with.

“District 2, male.”

You kept your head down and eyes on the floor, watching as two pairs of shoes walked directly past you on their way out of the room.

“No kiss good luck?” Namjoon snickered next to you, deliberately keeping his voice quiet enough that only you could hear him.

You ignored him.

“What’s the matter, trouble in paradise?” he mocked again.

You continued to ignore him, making sure your eyes were pointed on the exact same spot you had been staring at on the ground since you had sat down. Your knee continued to bounce at the exact same pace. You didn’t want to give him a single flinch, not even a minute sign of a reaction, given that was exactly what he was trying to get. You wondered what he was trying to achieve by riling you up. Did he want you to snap back at him and get in trouble? There had been no specific instruction not to talk, the weight of the occasion had instead resulted in the silence, so you doubted it. Most probably, he wanted to get in your head and psych you out before your assessment, likely trying to lower your score. Internally you scoffed, it’s not like you were a major threat to him anyway. You both knew you weren’t a trained career like he was. He was already going to outscore you anyway.

“District 3, female.”

Namjoon had gone from dictating your alliance, to spitting in the face of your concerns, to now mocking you. You wondered if he would’ve treated an actual trained career better if someone had volunteered for the females of 4. Perhaps it was to do with his ego that Hoseok had singled you out and wanted to work with you, even though he was clearly the more powerful tribute between you. He had taken it as a threat. A threat to his chances if you did side with Hoseok given Hoseok and Namjoon were on near equal footing, and the thought you had chosen Hoseok could have been seen as some act of betrayal. Never mind the fact you had done everything you could to try and avoid Hoseok, including telling Namjoon himself and asking for his help. Was he really that stupid enough to be mad you didn’t continue to beg him after his rejection?

“District 3, male.”

You supposed if he hypothetically succeeded and did psych you out into getting a terrible score it would be his own way of re-establishing himself as the desired tribute from 4. A reminder over your head that you weren’t a real career, and being brought into their alliance was an act of charity. A mercy killing to grace you with their presence before taking you out later in the game as an easy option. You longed to prove him wrong. Not just him but Hoseok also, the both of them for thinking you were pathetic and in need of their protection. His mockery and attempted sabotage was only acting as fuel to your fire.

“District 4, female.”

Your head snapped up to see the clipboard man standing in front of you. Wordlessly you nodded and got to your feet. You ignored the feeling of the eyes from the other tributes in the room staring at you as you had to walk past them to the exit. You were lead back down the same pathway you had taken from the training complex to the waiting room, only this time when you re-entered the training center you were the only person inside. Clipboard man hung back in the corridor and the only other people you could see were the game makers through the window in their viewing room. The center layout had been rearranged, with dummies and targets placed in optimum viewing range from the game makers’ vantage point.

“L/N, F/N, District 4, Female, 18 years of age” a voice crackled through the speakers overhead by means of introduction, as you walked over to the marked spot on the floor you had been instructed to stand.

It was a strange feeling looking up at the pompous judges dressed in their flamboyant outfits with pretentiously fluorescent dyed hair and beards. It was as if they were dressed up for an expensive night on the town and you, and the other twenty-three, were their performers for the evening. It was weirdly easy to put the judges in the back of your mind, despite being able to clearly see the room of around twenty people intently staring at you with interest. The all looked so fictional and outlandish that it was easy to dismiss them as some sort of strange figment of your imagination. They didn’t look like real people, which somehow made it possible for you compartmentalize them as imaginary, and instead focus on the task at hand.

Looking at the assortment of weapons on display, you mostly ignored the large range on offer and went straight for the knives. Running your fingertips along the handles you picked out a hunting knife with a blade that would have been around 8 inches long. There were smaller, thinner, knives specifically made for throwing on offer, however the ones you had practiced with back at home were the larger kind on your boat. Gingerly you bounced the handle in your palm, trying to get a quick feel for the weight. Looking up you examined the range of targets that were on display – some quite close and others much further.

You went for the closest target, that was five meters away, as a warm up.

Thwack

The blade sailed easily through the air landing in the yellow zone, on the first circle outside of the bulls-eye. You shrugged your shoulders and rolled your neck with an exhale, not a bad start and a good way to get the nerves under control.

You retrieved a second knife from weapons trolley and took your aim for the next target that was ten meters away.

Thwack

Another yellow circle, except this time your knife landed in the second circle outside from the bulls-eye. Your pursed your lips with a shake of your head. It was still in a decent range but you were hoping to improve on your last throw rather than getting further from the bulls-eye.

You went back for another knife, choosing another one like the last two you had thrown, and lined up for the fifteen-meter target.

Thwack

Red zone, just outside the yellow. If you were aiming at a person, rather than a circle, that would have been lucky to connect. You let out a sharp exhale with a sigh, you weren’t doing bad – you’d made contact with all three targets so far – but you weren’t establishing yourself as a threat either. Not on the level that you knew the other careers were going to be scoring.

Returning to the weapons rack you found there to be one knife left that was in the same size range as the others you had used so far. You turned the knife over in your hand weighing up your final options. There was a final target twenty meters away, but with the rate you were throwing, you’d highly likely just continue to move further away from the bulls-eye. You could always try to throw on one of the other targets again and work to improve your existing result, but it would be difficult to improve much on the first impression of being ‘good, but not great’. Your last option would be the dummies. The dummies were situated on the opposite side of the targets and provided a more human edge to demonstrations. You had elected to use targets in the hope of showcasing solid aim through a bulls-eye, but that hadn’t exactly worked out. With one knife left you decided to try and showcase something a little more realistic.

The dummies were grey and faceless, just human shapes of rubber, which was a lot different from what you would be facing in real life within the arena. If you couldn’t land a shot on a stationary figure you were practically as good as dead. Not only did you need to prove a score to the judges, but you wanted this for your own confidence. With a frown, you turned and launched your blade ten meters across the room into the head of a dummy with a satisfying Thwack.

You didn’t bother to look up to the balcony and see their whispers and nods of approval, instead walking straight over to the dummy and pulling the knife out from the rubber. You weren’t finished yet; you were going to show them what a fishing district knew how to do best…

Grasping the handle, you plunged the blade into the sternum, deep enough to reach what would be the back bone of a human, and dragged the blade down to the pelvis. Pulling the knife out you made horizontal slashes along the chest and the hip where your line down the body had began and ended. Tossing the knife aside, you reached your hands inside of the dummy, pulling it open.

Granted the physical anatomies between a fish and a human were quite different, but the concept of gutting was quite easy to get across.

x

Once the assessment was over you were lead back to your living quarters. With the pressure subsiding and adrenaline wearing off, you found your hands beginning to tremble. You were thankful to have your water bottle as some sort of distraction, shakily taking sips to try and calm yourself down. By the time you finally arrived back to the dorm you were only able to answer Finnick’s “How did you go?” with a quick “fine” as you hurriedly rushed to your bedroom, not wanting to stick around and see Namjoon again until you absolutely had to.

The assessments were scheduled to run until 4:00pm, with the results being broadcast at 4:30pm, before tributes were due to report at the auditorium at 5:00pm to begin preparing for interviews. You were grateful to be from one of the earlier districts, which left you with more free time between the conclusion of your assessment and your next schedule. Your bedroom contained its own en suite bathroom so the first thing you did upon entering was strip off your clothes and head for the shower.

You spent a long time under the hot running water, sitting on the tiles and letting the shower cover up the sound of your crying. It had become somewhat of a routine for you to return from training and cry under the safety of your showerhead where no one else could see or judge you for it. The emotional toll it took to bury your feelings and avoid crying in the training center, in front of the career pack, in front of the judges, or out of fear every waking moment of your life now was strenuous. The shower was your haven, a place where you could wash away the sweat and grime from your day, and allow some form of pent up release. Today’s shower would be the longest one you had taken since entering the capital.

A knock and Finnicks’ muffled voice through the door told you it was after 4:00pm and the results would be broadcast soon, so you reluctantly turned off the taps and began to dry off. You were told that hair, make up and styling would take place in the auditorium later, so you dressed in the most comfortable clothing that you had been provided with; a cashmere sweater and matching sweatpants. You waited in your room as long as possible, before putting on a pair of slippers and walking out to the lounge room at 4:30pm.

Finnick, Periwinkle and Namjoon were all seated on the sofa facing the giant television, which was currently displaying Caesar Flickerman and a co-host you didn’t recognize behind a desk. Wordlessly you joined them, choosing a spot next to Periwinkle on the lounge, the opposite side of where Namjoon was sitting.

“And now for the moment you’ve all been waiting for, the scores!”

You frowned at how enthusiastic Caesar seemed to be over his job. His mouth was spread into a wide grin, showing off his artificially white teeth, and his emerald green eyes (that had to be contact lenses) were practically glowing with excitement. You all sat in dead silence, if it weren’t for Caesar’s voice reading out District 1 you would have been able to hear a pin drop. The results weren’t surprising to you in the least. Krystal and Yoongi both scored 9s, Athena a 9 too and Hoseok 11. The girl from District 3 who had fallen in front of you on the monkey bars only managed a dismal score, the same as her district number. Her male partner only fared slightly better with a 5.

“District 4, F/N, L/N! Oh, she certainly captured many people’s attention at the parade, but is she as deadly as she is beautiful?”

You rolled your eyes with a scoff.

“You better not do that when he talks to you on stage,” Finnick warned.

You sarcastically put on an overly fake smile and fluttered your eye lashes back at him, until your expression was wiped blank by Caesar’s next words.

“Miss L/N, 10.”

Your jaw dropped as Periwinkle burst into enthusiastic applause, Finnick cocked an eyebrow with an impressed nod and Namjoon let out a low whistle.

“Someone’s been hiding something~,” Namjoon sing-songed as you closed your open mouth and took in a deep breath. You shook your head.

“Just the same knife throwing I’ve been practicing,” you replied.

Technically that was not a lie, just an omission of the gutting part. You wondered what it was about your little stunt that had pleased the judges so much. You were hoping to bump yourself to an 8 or 9 to at least try and blend in with the careers, instead you had somehow managed to establish yourself as a threat amongst them. With how much you had been pushed around so far you were glad to at least have one moment of impact. But now you had to be worried about the extra target being a threat could potentially put on your back.

Namjoon didn’t reply further as Caesar read his name and announced his score of 9.

You blanched. There was no way in hell you were more skilled than Namjoon was with a weapon. You looked over, expecting him to be furious, but he merely sat there with a content expression on his face nodding at the TV.

“Someone’s been hiding something,” you repeated Namjoon’s words back to him.

Namjoon’s only response was a smirk.

You didn’t like the way he looked like he knew far more than what he was sharing.

I'm a bit annoyed because I planned to combine the final training day and interviews into one chapter. But I found it was starting to get too long, as this part was already hitting 7000 words.

Next chapter will be the interviews and fallout from certain things the characters say in them

Chapter after will FINALLY be what everyone here wants (especially me) - the actual Hunger Games in the arena

Sorry to keep dragging it out, my brain hates me.

[greekgeek21]

Percy Jackson & The Avengers: Convergence - there is a fight scene included

I am not dead, just extremely busy. My summer lacrosse season just ended, so hopefully I get some inspiration to write some new chapters. In the meantime, I hope this will tide you over for some time.

Keep in mind, this was written weeks ago, so I am not in the mood to answer any weirdly specific questions about my artistic choices. In other words, if you don't like it, you don't have to read it! I know, it's a truly monumental realization.

For my kind & loyal readers, don't forget to comment, like, and follow!

- your author

DISCLAIMER: I don't own the Avengers or PJO!

Ω ♆ Ω

By the grace of the gods, the group managed to pass the sirens without an issue. It seemed like the mortals had finally accepted that it was in their best interest to listen to the Seven. So, as soon as Percy warned everyone to fill their ears with wax, they filled their ears with wax. Of course there were a few complaints, but that was expected. Nobody was perfect (no matter what Narcissus insists).

From there on out, the nerves were building. Percy had informed the team that their next stop would be Polyphemus' island, and everybody, mortal and demigod alike, knew what that place was. It was where the most infamous cyclops lived, but most importantly, it was where Annabeth was being held, if Percy's father was to be trusted.

Since it would still be another two hours or so, according to the sea expert, until they reached the island, the group decided to try resting. Some tried to nap, while others sharpened their weapons or hung out on the deck. It was futile, but they were trying to prepare themselves for a situation that they had never before encountered, not even Percy.

It was safe to say that everyone was scared shitless.

Ω ♆ Ω

Leo had decided to go downstairs and tinker with some stuff from his belt as a distraction from their impending doom. It was working too! He was in his own little world that only machines could enter. That is, until Tony Stark walked up to him.

"Whatcha doing, kid?" he asked, peering over Leo's shoulder to catch a glimpse at the boy's creation.

"I'm making a mini automaton to help us find Annabeth when we get to the island," was the answer.

Taking a closer look, Tony started to see it. It was a very small machine, but if you looked closely, it was clear that it was made of metal. The automaton was about the size of a quarter, and looked like a celestial bronze spider. Leo was currently adding the last two legs to it when Tony walked up.

When Leo looked up, he held up his creation with a proud smile. "This baby can be our spy. It's eyes are tiny cameras, and it's made almost completely of celestial bronze. We can send this in, and then know where Annabeth is before we storm the place."

Tony nodded, "Yeah... Pretty good idea, kid."

And ok, so Leo was freaking out a little bit on the inside because one of his idols had just complimented his work. But on the outside, he just smiled a little wider.

"You haven't even seen the best part. You've gotta see it after I turn it on. I added stealth-mode so nobody should even be able to know it's there," Leo said, grabbing the spider and flipping it over to press a button.

As soon as he had, the spider flipped itself over in his hand and started crawling up his arm. Tony was a little creeped out, but it was blocked by the fascination for this new kind of science the demigods had. The spider should have to be controlled by a human, but it was moving like it was almost...thinking on its own. There was no way it had an AI, but that was the only solution his mortal brain could come up with.

"Is it an AI?" he asked.

"Nope. It's a greek automaton. They don't need AIs. I programmed it to listen to a few simple commands when needed, but if we don't order it around, it'll just stick around me waiting for orders. Pretty cool, right?"

"Awesome," Tony whispered, in awe of how smart this seventeen year old kid was.

"Thanks. I think I finished it just in time because I heard Percy calling us back upstairs," Leo said. Before he had even finished he was walking towards the deck, not a care in the world for the metal spider crawling around on him.

"Oh, I'm definitely becoming friends with this kid," Tony muttered to himself before following Leo.

Ω ♆ Ω

"Did you get it done, Leo?" Percy asked as soon as he had seen him.

"Yep. Here it is." Leo held up the automaton-spider.

Percy smirked. "Oh, Annabeth's gonna love that."

Leo shrugged, acting clueless. "I have no idea what you're talking about. The spider was just the first thing I could come up with."

"Sure it was," Piper snorted.

Leo fake-gasped. "Beauty Queen! How could you ever think I would lie?! I would never!"

Clint whispered to Natasha, "The kids clearly have a strong bond that only comes from fighting for their lives with each other."

Frank turned to them, surprising the spies that he had heard them, "No shit, Sherlock."

Before anything else could be said, Percy reclaimed the entire group's attention. "If you look to the right, you can see Polyphemus' island. We're going to dock on the south side of the island because that is the only way to get on without climbing a cliff and facing carnivorous sheep. Hazel should be able to disguise the ship until we invade the base, so don't worry about being seen. Leo will send in his spider to check things out and then we'll follow after we know where Annabeth is. Everybody got that?"

At the noises of affirmation, Percy nodded. "Good. Suit up if you're not already."

Of course, Tony had to break the calm solemnity by saying, "Cap, I thought that was your line?"

Everybody collectively rolled their eyes.

Ω ♆ Ω

After they docked, Leo released his spider with specific orders to find Annabeth Chase while staying hidden. That was working until Polyphemus' stupid super-senses could smell the celestial bronze. Leo hadn't known that a blind cyclops would be able to smell metal, but you learn something new everyday, right?

The spider lasted all of five minutes in the cave before Polyphemus smelled it and crushed it under his giant smelly foot. Percy had thought that the cyclops would take longer to reform, but when had he ever been that lucky? Something that completely baffled him was how the mortals got him to not eat them. The dude had been pretty desperate for food the last time Percy had run into him, so how had the weird boss guy gotten him to hold off?

The only thing he could think of for them to feed him would be...nope! He's not going there right now.

The last thing the spider had transmitted to the group was a picture of a mortal holding a gun to Annabeth's head while she was gagged and chained. It made his blood boil.

"I'm going to kill them," He growled, starting to get off the boat and storm the place.

Jason stepped in front of him before he could, "Easy, Perce. You don't know what you're walking into. They want you to go in half-cocked, so we can't give them that. You know Annabeth can handle herself, so just take a breath and we'll figure out a plan."

Percy took a shaky breath, but it did nothing to cool his anger.

"Jace, if you don't step out of my way in the next two seconds, I will be forced to move you, and trust me, you don't want me to do that."

The son of Jupiter stood his ground, "I'm not moving. I know you Percy. Hurting me would go against your fatal flaw. I'm your best friend; your family. I know you would never intentionally hurt me."

Jason glanced over at the rest of the group, who hadn't dared to move if it upset Percy even more. The guy was a ticking time bomb, and they needed to defuse it before it went off and destroyed any chance of getting Annabeth back safely.

Percy almost looked in pain as he spoke his next words, "Jason, I love you. You're my cousin, but Annabeth is my everything. I will hurt you to get to her."

Jason sighed, expecting that answer. "Then at least let us come with you on your suicide mission. I'm not letting you die without me."

"Fine, but hurry up. I'm leaving now," and Percy shoved past Jason and started the trek up to Polyphemus' cave.

Jason turned to the others, who were all staring after Percy with shocked expressions. "Well you heard him! Move your asses!"

That seemed to startle them awake. Everyone but Bruce started moving.

Ω ♆ Ω

By the time the team had been able to catch up to Percy's fast pace, he had already reached the nearest entrance to the cave. It was a dark, narrow path that had walls of rock on either side reaching up for hundreds of feet.

"This is the part in the horror movies where I start screaming at the tv to not go in there and they still go in there," Piper whispered.

They were all just staring at the darkness, and it was getting awkward. For someone who was so hasty to get to Annabeth, Percy was sure taking a long time to get there.

"Are we gonna go in or..." Tony said.

Percy sighed. "Yeah. We're going in. Just don't separate from the group."

He led the way into the cave with Steve right behind him. Percy appreciated having someone else who could take some of the responsibility off his shoulders. Almost his entire time in the godly world, he had been expected to be the leader because of his father, and he had stepped up, but that doesn't mean it didn't weigh on him. Annabeth was the only one who had been able to help him with the stress, and without her, he was losing it. He had already been barely hanging onto his control over his powers, but now without her, what he was doing could barely be called control. It was more like holding back a rampaging bull with a string.

Ten minutes later, they found themselves hiding behind the wall that led to the room where the gang was waiting. Just as the spider had shown them, Annabeth was kneeling under the gang leader's feet while he held a gun to her head.

She looked murderous, so at least something was still normal in the world.

Steve poked his head around and gave a quick scan of the room before turning back to them, "Ok so we've got at least ten humans, with five monsters. One of the monsters is as tall as a building so I think he's the largest threat. Tony, Clint, Nat, and I will deal with the humans if you guys handle the monsters. The main priority is getting Annabeth to safety. Percy, that's your job."

Saying that last bit was just to clarify for everyone else, though they looked like they didn't need to hear it. Percy had a determined look on his face, one that said he wasn't going to allow anyone else to have his assignment.

"You got it, boss," Tony remarked. "Do you just want to storm in there?"

Before he could get an answer, Percy charged into the room, leaving his friends entirely unshocked, but the Avengers were looking a little mad.

"Don't worry, plans aren't really his thing. Even if we do make them, they never go our way. It's better to go with the flow when fighting with Percy," Hazel reassured, and then turned to follow her godly cousin. The rest of the Seven followed, leaving the Avengers to just stare at each other in confusion.

"I like their style," Tony said before flying into the room.

Natasha sighed. "I'm really starting to regret meeting these kids."

Clint smirked at her before leaving, closely followed by Steve and the Black Widow herself. For all three of them, everything about this mission was against their nature, but there wasn't much they could do about it. They were in unknown territory with a group of newly-allied teens and no backup. It was a shitshow before they had even left.

Ω ♆ Ω

Frank was fighting a dracaena, and it was making it super annoying. The thing would not stop talking about grocery stores. It was quite distracting when trying to kill it.

"Seriously! Can you believe how nobody can see how bad those chains are?!" it exclaimed.

Frank sighed, ready for it to be over. Whenever he would try to stab it, it would just slither away right at the last second, all the while continuing to complain.

He decided to use his shapeshifting abilities to catch the thing off-guard. In reality, he could probably deal with it in seconds, but when he really used his inner son of Mars, it drained him. He needed to save his strength if he was going to fight Polyphemus.

Speaking of, so far, the cyclops had stayed out of the fighting. He was just sitting on his throne made of rock, picking at his teeth with what Frank really hoped wasn't a human bone.

Frank changed into a squirrel for a second, climbing up onto the back of the dracaena with the animal's speed and before the monster could react, he changed back into a human and stabbed it through the back with his spear.

"Huh. I guess you can shut up," he remarked as the monster turned into dust.

After, Frank turned to help Hazel take down an empousa. She had already defeated four before that, so it was a pretty easy fight. He had been keeping an eye on her throughout his fight. Sure, he trusted she could take care of herself, but it was also his job to watch her back.

"Thanks," Hazel told him with a quick peck on the cheek after they finished.

Believe it or not, that kiss on the cheek was a major improvement. It had been a real adjustment for Hazel to learn how couples expressed affection nowadays, and it had taken even longer to start showing it herself. It helped that Frank preferred words over touch, too.

"No problem."

Ω ♆ Ω

"Get some, térata!" Leo screamed, running up to the manticore and sending giant, continuous blasts of fire at it.

He had heard of Dr. Thorn from Nico, Percy, and Annabeth before, and had somehow retained the knowledge that it was extremely durable on the outside. That meant that he had to think smart in order to beat it.

So far, Leo was distracting it and holding it off with his fire while he thought of a plan. However, he could only hold it off for so long. He would eventually tire out.

Come on, Leo, THINK!

Then it hit him.

It was so simple! He had been told the story of how the Nemean lion was defeated at Camp. Now usually, he would totally ignore any schooling he was given, but the stuff they were taught at Camp was much more interesting than algebra. So yeah, he remembered some stuff.

So, he decided that his best shot at beating Dr. Thorn was landing a large enough hit inside of him. That meant he had to figure out a way to get him to open his mouth. That wasn't really the hard part, though. The hard part was figuring out how to not die when he had to get closer to the monster.

"Estoy jodido..." he muttered before taking a step forward, never once stopping his assault on the beast.

The Manticore didn't seem to be moving back from the intensity, but rather reveling in the fact that he hadn't gained one burn from the fight. He was just waiting out Leo.

That was not a fun revelation for the son of Hephaestus to have.

And that was when the thorns started attacking him. He should've been expecting it, really. The guy had a tail of poisonous thorns and he hadn't used it yet? Something should've registered in his mind. But that was past-Leo's mistake. Present-Leo had to deal with the super tall, scary, poisonous, and royally pissed-off greek monster in front of him.

Dr. Thorn let out a war cry and swung his tail around, releasing a line of spikes at Leo, who managed to just barely duck out of the way. He was not keen on becoming swiss cheese!

"Ok. It's time to end this." Leo sighed in annoyance, jumping back up and charging.

He swung his battle hammer up and lit it on fire, deciding that he might as well stick with the common theme of stupid ideas. He managed to keep dodging attacks all the way up until he was within ten feet of the manticore. Then, he threw his weapon at the monster, praying to Apollo for good aim. He had fixed the sun chariot plenty of times, so the god had to owe him at least one favor.

Once again, Leo's stupid demigod luck kicked in and the hammer somehow embedded itself in the monster's mouth, which had been opened in a prideful roar. Honestly, the son of Hephaestus didn't know HOW he did it, just that it worked.

With the distraction of having a flaming hammer in his mouth, Dr. Thorn didn't see Leo running up with his arms raised and prepared to fire. By the time he did, it was too late because long blasts of fire were flying straight towards his open mouth.

The monster was able to mutter a silent curse before he disintegrated into dust, once again sent to Tartarus.

"Take that, bitch."

Ω ♆ Ω

Piper was absolutely sure the Fates were laughing at her. They had to be. There was no way that she just happened to be stuck with the two empousa. It didn't help that Jason was struggling to not drool over the girls. She just had to keep chanting in her head that the monsters were using their charm powers on him, and he was not actually attracted to the disgusting things.

After the two monsters tried to both swipe at her at the same time, she growled and shouted, "Jason! Get your head in the game and come help me!"

He had been blinking and shaking his head for the past two minutes and it was getting quite frustrating to have these donkey-cyborg-vampires ganging up on her with no back-up. Once this was over, she was going to make Jason work to get back in her good graces.

With just a little bit of her charmspeak added into her order, Jason was finally able to break free from the empousai's spell. He quickly willed his gladius to be a javelin and launched it through one of the monsters, which made it explode into a shower of golden dust. A traitorous part of Piper's brain insisted on calling that move hot, but she was able to school her expression back into a scowl before her boyfriend could notice.

The other empousa let out a shriek and said, "You MONSTERS! That was my sister! I'll make you pay for that!"

They only had a second to appreciate the irony before she launched herself at them with even more fervor than before, fueled by the rage of losing her "sister."

Jason couldn't help but notice how she was wearing a cheerleading costume. It was very ripped and destroyed, but it was clearly a cheerleading uniform. And as he was deflecting her claws, the ADHD part of his brain realized that the logo on the uniform was for Goode High School, Percy's old school. He almost wanted to laugh when he remembered the story of Kelli, an empousa acting as a cheerleader during Percy's freshman orientation. Percy had always said the monster had a nasty habit of coming back quickly, but Jason had just thought it was an exaggeration. But no, he and Piper were really fighting Kelli, one of Percy's recurring monsters.

It would be hilarious later, truly. But for now, he had to actually kill the thing.

Kelli had backed off when she realized that attacking out of rage wasn't going to work against two experienced demigods, and that also gave Jason and Piper a chance to make a plan themselves.

"Got any ideas?" he asked Piper.

She grinned with a terrifying amount of murderous glee. "I thought you'd never ask."

And then she told him her plan, which was essentially just using him as bait while she got to do all the killing. The prideful Roman part of him wanted to insist on him killing it, but he managed to reign that in when he saw the look on Piper's face. She was not asking, she was telling. Who was he to say no, especially after he hadn't been able to fully resist the empousai's charm?

A scary thought told him he was turning into Percy. He brushed that off for later nightmares.

"Come get me, bloodsucker!" He shouted, raising his arms up in a taunting manner. If he was acting like Percy, might as well go all the way right?

With yet another shriek, Kelli stormed at Jason, completely disregarding the daughter of Aphrodite that was stepping back and preparing to literally stab the monster in the back with her dagger.

Sometimes Jason wonders how a creature could be so stupid. Their plan was so obvious!

It went off without a hitch, technically. Piper let the empousa get a little too close for comfort before she killed it, but he trusted her to get the job done and she came through. Kelli had been prepped and ready to bite into his neck right before she exploded into dust.

It was one Hades of a trust exercise, that's for sure.

"Please don't let it get that close next time, Pipes," he breathed out while he put away Juno's Gladius.

Piper gave him a quick peck on the lips, "Not a chance, Superman."

Ω ♆ Ω

Considering the circumstances, the Avengers weren't doing half-bad. They were actually fairing pretty well. They knew how to deal with humans, so their job wasn't that hard. The only difficulty was that there were four of them and ten of the bad guys. They were sorely outnumbered.

Currently, Steve was fighting two at once, with a third opponent already knocked out a few feet away. He was blocking one with his shield while punching the other in the face. He then switched roles, instead kicking the first attacker and driving his shield into the gut of the second. The one he gutted gasped and fell to the ground, and was knocked unconscious was a simple hit to the temple. While he was distracted with taking down his partner, the still-conscious bad guy recovered from the kick and was able to land a hit to the back of Steve's head. Clearly, the fighter had been prepared to have achieved some form of disorientation from the Captain, but all he got was a pissed-off Avenger.

"That tickled."

It took less than five seconds for Steve to take him down after that.

Natasha also started with three adversaries. Key word being 'started.' It had taken barely any time to take down the first two. And all she had to do for the third was a scissor kick and hold until he passed out. She had just finished doing that when a call from Clint got her attention.

"Nat!" he shouted.

She turned on instinct and threw a throwing knife at the person running up behind her straight into their chest. They stopped with shocked features before falling to the ground in a heap, dead weight pushing the knife even further in and no doubt killing them faster.

"Getting rusty, Clint?" she teased, throwing a look over at her friend.

"No," he defended. "I'm just making sure you're not getting rusty!"

The archer hadn't realised one of his two attackers had sneaked off to go after the "bigger threat." He would never let Nat know he thought she was the bigger threat, though. That would be fueling an ego he knew was somewhere deep down in her.

Tony had been given two people to fight as well, and he was doing pretty well. He had the obvious advantage of being in the air, so all the gang members he was fighting could do was try to shoot at him with their guns, and his armor was designed to withstand a nuclear bomb. Bullets weren't gonna do much damage.

"Guys, seriously, we should just talk this out. We both KNOW I'm going to be knocking you both out in five seconds, so why don't you surrender instead? It'll be so much easier for the both of us!" he said, raising his hands and readying his repulsors.

As expected, the bad guys didn't show any sign of slowing down their useless attack on him. With a roll of his eyes and an obnoxious sigh, Iron Man shot them both in the chest, knocking them out cold.

"That felt too easy. Did that feel too easy to you?" He asked the other Avengers as they gathered back together.

"I can't believe I'm saying this, but I agree with Tony," Natasha said, "That fight was too good to be true."

Now that the truth had been revealed to them, the Avengers could blame what happened next on the Fates.

Ω ♆ Ω

There it is! I hope you liked it

other chapters :)

[uraharashouten]

so jinta and ururu being children-- is that by choice or is that just the reality/constraint/natural process of creating artificial souls?

How to Raise Children at Home in Your Spare Time

There’s a bit to unpack here. First off, there are artificial souls, and then there are artificial souls, and it depends on the purpose and expectations around your artificial soul. There’s a difference between artificial souls like Chappy, or even mod souls like Kon and Nozomi, and souls like Nemu, Jinta, and Ururu. I think, actually, that I’ll let Kisuke’s words to Shuuhei in volume II of Can’t Fear Your Own World address this.

     As though he had seen right through the young man’s stern resolve, Urahara said, “So? What do you think those two are?”      So that’s how he wants to do this.      Hisagi was bewildered when Urahara said that, as though the shopkeep were testing him instead of the other way around, but he offered the first reply he could think of. “Gikongan...I guess they wouldn’t be, though.”      “Well, the temporary souls in Gikongan generally don’t grow. Though they will ‘learn’ to a certain extent from the user’s position and commands, there are limits as far as that’s concerned.”      “You said they’re generally like that, so that means there are exceptions.”      At that moment, Hisagi recalled the stuffed lion toy that made frequent appearances in the Soul Society and looked serious as he said, “For example, a mod soul.      “Oh my, you’re sharper than you seem, Mr. Hisagi. But that doesn’t mean you’re right.”      “Well, other than that... the only thing I can think of is that they’re something like Miss Nemu from Captain Kurotsuchi’s...”      Urahara opened his folding fan in front of Hisagi’s mouth to stop him from continuing.      “Whoa there. If you say something like that, Mr. Kurotsuchi will use them for his experiments. Their insides are quite different from Nemu’s. I’m sure that Mr. Kurosuchi already knows that and is imagining my bitter expression as he dances for joy about Nemu’s growth, thinking, ‘I’ve surpassed Urahara.’”

Their insides are quite different from Nemu’s  I should think so. For one thing, they have physical kishi bodies to inhabit the World of the Living. To review, Nemu is an artificial soul capable of growth, and this is a remarkable achievement, but her body would be something closer to reigai... or something altogether different from anything else we see in the series, since she’s capable of converting it bit-by-bit into energy that may be directed toward attacks. I don’t believe that’s how Jinta’s and Ururu’s bodies work. They seem for all intents and purposes to go through the stages of normal human development, including social and emotional development, as Kisuke also observed to Shuuhei prior to the quoted section above. Furthermore, their souls seem bonded to their physical bodies in a similar manner as any human’s is. I can’t vouch that they actually are bound to them by a chain of fate, and I rather think they aren’t, but we never see them forego any part of their physical selves when accessing their spiritual powers. In any case... Nemu isn’t human. She’s closer to a pure soul. Ururu and Jinta are super-human.

So, let’s suppose your goal is to create a super-human, not out of an existing human body like Kon inhabiting Ichigo, but from scratch. You could create a machine that will surpass the constraints of a human, but that wouldn’t be super-human, now would it? At base, you’d want to create a perfect human facsimile, then layer that with additional skills and abilities. So, step one: build a perfect human facsimile...

Consider the problems of creating an artificial adult human with a mental blank slate: all the authentic adult human responses, without a lifetime of memories and experience. We’ve all seen Blade Runner, haven’t we? The replicants handle their existential nihilism and awareness of their artificiality about as well as four-year-olds, because they are four-year-olds. One solution to this problem is to give your artificial human artificial memories, a la Rachel, so that they develop human emotions. It does seem to help, though Rachel is still arguably socially underdeveloped, and further development doesn’t really happen until she enters into a new (and authentic) relationship. Another direction to take it is to give your artificial construct governing ethics (e.g. Asimov’s Laws of Robotics) without trying to emulate an emotional response. ST:TNG’s Commander Data is a good example of this. Anyone who’s familiar enough with the series to know his evil twin brother Lore knows what happens when you impart emotions and don’t have governing ethics, and again, anyone who’s seen Star Trek: First Contact will realize the problems with imparting emotions to an artificial construct who lacks adequate experience in handling them.  And I don’t even need to get into the perils of creating artificial intelligence with neither emotion nor ethical framework; science fiction is fraught with such perils, from David 8 in Prometheus to Facebook’s algorithm. Oh right -- that one’s not science fiction...

As someone who’s been raising children at home in my spare time for nineteen years, I feel somewhat qualified to say that humans need at least that long to grow a healthy ethical framework and emotional response such that they’re able successfully to navigate human society. You can’t really cheat the system there. And much of this is related not only to physical development and growing into oneself, but to family life. Humans don’t grow in isolation. Think of how much we’re shaped by our families, for good or for ill.  We learn to bond and resolve conflicts. We learn to trust others, or not; to get along, or not. Interactions with those we live with during our formative years leave a lasting imprint on our psyches. It turns out that in order to flourish, developing human souls need a consistent sense of relational security over time. So if your end goal is to create a super-human facsimile, and if your intermediate goal is to study the progress of soul development, I think it makes sense to start your experiment off where all human experiments start off, in infancy, or as close to that as possible. 

Of the two children, Ururu is supposedly older, but does not act like the oldest child. She’s always struck me as a bit less mature, being both dispassionate when it comes to other people’s discomfort, and blindly, happily obedient toward Kisuke and Tessai. In these characteristics, she’s strikingly similar to Nemu. It’s hard to say whether this is an artifact of being artificial and having less time to develop, or of basic personality type. It may also be the case that her deferential, insecure nature comes of being raised female in a strongly gendered culture. She’s easily cowed by her younger brother, and exhibits a great deal of genuine emotional vulnerability.

 Very early in the series, she’s so meek and unsure of herself after making a mistake that she actually flinches when Kisuke reaches out to her.

Now, I’ve read a theory that suggested she hasn’t been with Urahara long enough to trust him. Perhaps he created the two at the ages we meet them in canon, and they’re still learning expected behavior, getting to know Kisuke and Tessai. Or perhaps he’s been raising them from infancy, and what we’re seeing there is just a shy little girl’s insecurity. I’ve known enough insecure little girls to find her behavior natural enough; it needs no rationale. In any case, Kisuke seems to have learned something from his failure as a parent during the Hōgyoku’s formative stages, because he knows precisely what he needs to do to compensate.

And by the time we catch up with Ururu a few years later, she seems to have benefited from his reassurance and Tessai’s protection. She’s grown into a self-possessed, polite-yet-subversive young lady, and Jinta into a belligerent teenager subject to the mild retaliatory humiliation perpetrated by his older sister. In other words, development! Have a little Before-And-After:

tl;dr: It seems these two are simply undergoing the inimitable, time-honored, time-consuming, and very human experience of Siblings Growing up in a Family.

[imagine-loki]

Between pages

TITLE: Between pages

CHAPTER NO./ONE-SHOT: One-shot

AUTHOR: fanfictrashdump

ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine Loki always carries a book. Not because he’s reading 24/7, but because he likes tucking flowers from the bouquets you make and leave in the shared kitchen in between the pages. 

RATING: T

NOTES/WARNINGS: There is fluff in my soul and I will not apologize for it. Language, extreme awkwardness, and unlikely friendships ahead. Let Loki be soft 2020.

=

Loki, God of Mischief, Prince of Asgard, Rightful King of Jotunheim, Odinson was a master sorcerer. His talent was unmatched in the Universe, and he was capable of feats that were previously unheard of in all the Nine Realms. He could defy the laws of physics, of imagination. He could bend the very fabric of the Universe and arrive at a different planet with merely a step in any direction. He was awe-inspiring and nightmare-inducing in equal measure.

So, how in the fucking hell did some silly flowers become his ruin?

Groaning pathetically against the plumpness of his down-filled pillow, he contemplated escaping the Tower. He had run away from more dangerous places before. Surely, walking out of Stark’s prized building would be little more than child’s play to a sorcerer of his caliber. However, any time he reminded himself that he was, indeed, a sorcerer the wound on his ego would split and bleed fresh, once more.

It would have been so easy to explain away. There was a reason they called him the Silvertongue, but he just stood there. Like a moron. He just… he just handed it over, and now…

He groaned again, teeth bared in a half-snarl as the memories flooded his mind.

There were few things in this little, mortal trash heap of a world that intrigued Loki. The supersoldiers held his interest for a moment or two, until he had all but uncovered the secrets of their endurance and had promptly become bored. The spies were fun to watch, if only to watch Barton squirm under his intense gaze, thinking he had another plot to put him under mind control. Banner was… well, he didn’t mess with Banner. Or Stark, for that matter. They were on an unspoken truce upon which his very survival was pinned. After all, Loki was nothing if not self-serving in his quest for continued breathing.

Then, there was the mutant; the plant witch.

The five-foot-nothing little imp who he could not seem to put the fear of god in, no matter how much he tried. The mortal had talked back, disobeyed direct orders on the field, sassed, hugged, and blackmailed him over a hobby in the course of less than a year. Loki would be impressed at her ruthlessness of character if he wasn’t utterly annoyed at her existence.

Well, that, and the fact that he couldn’t, for the life of him, figure out how her powers worked.

And that was the source of his current anguish.

Lily, the little mutant, had a predictable daily routine. She would wake up with the sun, make breakfast for the whole team, go to the gym and be back in time for the meal. Once she set the table, she would always conjure a handful of flowers in the vase in the middle of the table. It was never the same arrangement, twice, and it was never the type of arrangement the mortals would overpay for at the local flower shops. Wild variations of popular flowers, bits of flowering tree branches, weeds–wildflowers of all types that brought in butterflies from the open balcony windows and delighted all.

At first, he thought she simply picked them outside and coaxed them into bloom. It wasn’t until one morning, when he had been up uncharacteristically early that he had been proven wrong. He watched her kneel on a chair at the table, hands held aloft around the vase before every vein visible pumped a fluorescently-bright green. Like seedlings, the flowers grew from tiny roots until they overflowed from the jug. Loki had walked over, almost reflexively, watching how the petals bent under his fingers and how the cool stems still felt like they were thrumming with life as if freshly picked.

Fascinating.

Loki, while talented in his own right, had never been able to conjure a flower that looked so much like a flower. They usually looked too perfect, almost artificial–like a painting of a flower brought to life. He plucked a bud and tucked it between the pages of the book he had been reading (ironically, it had been Leaves of Grass by Walt Whitman). He decided that he would study this specific specimen and figure out her secret. Surely, it would be easy to conquer the skill that a mortal wielded.

He had been horrendously wrong.

That first failed attempt at replicating her craftsmanship prompted him to grab a few more samples, the next day. And the next. And the one after that, too. After a while, he had all but given up on learning how to conjure these life-like flowers, with their slightly irregular patterns and charming blemishes. But the habit had stuck and he still collected them.

Every morning, like clockwork, he would go to the kitchen for a glass of water, pull a bloom and press it between Whitman’s promises to return to his beloved dirt. The team had started making jokes about his current inability to put down the poems book, everywhere he went. They wrongly assumed that he was simply enamored by the mortal’s views of humanity or that he was learning what being human really meant. In reality, all Loki was doing was carrying the vessel for his preservation and lying in wait for the opportunity to be all on his own to snatch another souvenir.

He’d be loathe to admit that his theft was now out of pure admiration. Flowers were always his mother’s thing and he never really cared much for gardening, but he could appreciate the intricacies of every subtly veined petal and rough leaf. His fingers often ran the length of the stems and leaves, gathering the light coat of dew that glistened on the greenery, smiling to himself all the while. He supposed he had never found the need to conjure a flower or anything of the sort meant to be a soft gift–it wasn’t really his style–but the fact only made him all the more awestruck.

“You like today’s bouquet, Lokes?”

He nodded, a little distracted, having just pressed the most perfect daisy, with a little notch in one of the petals into the book. The small, leather-bound tome rested beside him on the table, golden lettering catching Lily’s eye.

“Oh my gosh, I love Leaves of Grass,” she exclaimed, and Loki had mindlessly handed her the book for her to peruse before he even had the good sense to panic. “I know. Surprise, surprise, plant babe likes plant-themed title of book, but I truly loved it when I read it in high school. It’s sad, but a good type of sad, if that… makes… sense…”

It was her trailing voice that had made Loki blink away from the flowers. Green eyes trailed from the vase, to his empty floating hand, to the table. His book was no longer there… and he was the reason for that. When his shocked gaze flickered up to hers, he found her dainty fingers trailing over a perfectly dried dandelion that Loki had chosen because it had a singular freckle amidst a canvas of soft yellow.

Loki had disappeared before she even looked away from the keepsake.

“Maybe I should just take my chances in the dungeons. I’m sure Father dearest would rather see me in a cell,” he moaned petulantly before he stiffened.

There was energy crackling in the air, making it smell like ozone and magic. Loki sat up in bed, retrieving a dagger from under his pillow and noiselessly stepping onto the carpeted floor. Beneath his feet, the carpet felt odd. With a frown, he glanced down, finding the floor covered in green and yellow–a blanket of buttercups. By the door, Lily smiled shyly, her body slumping slightly against the wall as the green faded away from her veins.

“You’ve overtired yourself,” he remarked, drily, ignoring the fact that his cheeks burned in a way that told him that he was flushed crimson. His feet shuffled beneath him, grounding him to reality and allowing him to resist the urge to bend down and run his fingers through the blooms.

She shrugged. “I’ll feel better after breakfast.” There was a tense silence between them for several more seconds. Lily held the book out in her hand, but Loki hesitated crossing the landscape to retrieve it. “You always pick the iffy ones.”

His brow pinched in with confusion. “What?”

“The flowers. You always pick the ones that aren’t perfect. Spots, notches, missing petals or stamens–”

“It makes them real,” he interrupted. “The flaws make them real. Machines can make flawless flowers.”

“I agree. I just… didn’t peg you for the type who could appreciate that, y'know?” Lily sighed, trying to suppress a grin. “Then again, I didn’t peg you for the type who pressed flowers, either.”

Loki glanced at his feet with a frown. “Everyone likes flowers,” he muttered under his breath, just shy of defensive. He managed to will his feet forward, relieving her still reaching hand of the book without glancing at her.

He swore that he hadn’t been this pathetic before he moved to Midgard.

Lily cleared her throat awkwardly, tipping a golden flower back with the toe of her trainer. “Would it be OK if I brought some flowers for your room, every once in while?” She gave him a hesitant smile before adding, “I-I need the practice,” in a rush.

“Don’t you think the others would be more deserving of them?” Loki hated the fact that he sounded somewhat bitter.

She giggled under her breath. “The others won’t really appreciate them, will they?” Before he could offer a witty retort to try and dispel the awkwardness he felt, Lily had grasped his wrist and tugged him along out the door. “Come on, we’re late for breakfast,” she remarked, conversation already forgotten.

[narrans]

A Tall and Small Collection | Soren | Disagreements and Risk

Brady returned a few hours after Soren, Dorian, and Rey brought the fabric and thread back to their camp; and they managed to accomplish a lot even with their limited resources.

Rey and Dorian now had padded bedding three cloth pieces deep. Dorian demonstrated his cleverness by folding one piece of fabric into thirds rather than spreading out three separate cloth pieces. This allowed their beds to be close but separate, which was a good thing. Rey was known to “borrow” covers in his sleep.

They also managed to set up a tent-like overhang over their beds to help capture heat. This idea was Soren’s since he had more experience constructing tents.

When Brady returned empty handed, Soren couldn’t bite back his groan. His utterance earned him a spiteful glance from Brady. “What was that about?” he asked shortly. Soren glanced toward his brothers who were currently holding a race to see who could fold blankets and pack the essentials fastest.

“You’ve been gone for hours and you didn’t manage to find anything useful,” muttered Soren under his breath. Brady huffed and began heading for the beds. “Wait a second. I’ve got something I want to talk to you about.”

Brady stopped, folded his arms across his chest, and turned to face Soren half-heartedly. “What’s that?” Soren cleared his throat and gestured for them to take a few steps away. Soren’s mind was racing, but he knew he had to bring it up – his brothers needed proper borrower training, and soon. Once they stepped away, Soren began.

“I’ve been thinking it over and I think it’s way past time we show Dorian and Rey how to start borrowing.” Like a band-aid, Soren blurted out the main objective. Brady stiffened instantly. He had never liked borrowing, which showed by his lack of effort and his complete lack of competence.

“Out of the question,” snapped Brady. “They’re far too young and we don’t know enough about this place.” [We’d know more if you would do something and contribute to the family.] Soren forced his thoughts to remain in his head. Instead, he took a calming breath through gritted teeth and stared at Brady.

“Look, I know we don’t agree on everything, hardly anything in fact; but they need this,” stated Soren. “If something were to happen to one or either of us, who would they turn to. They don’t even know the basics.” Brady growled, shoulders hunched and posture tightening.

“I feel like I already know some of the basics of this place. There are two entire apartments which aren’t being used by any humans. They can work on speed and strength, climbing and maneuvers. We can tell them all day about what they need to know and understand, but that’s no substitute for hands-on practice; and that’s what they need.”

“And what happens if and when humans fill those apartments? Where will they practice then?” demanded Brady.

“Then we’ll stay in the walls and practice or, better yet, take advantage of the havoc humans go through when relocating and borrow necessary building materials. These are fundamentals, Brady!”

“Don’t you raise your voice at me Soren. I’m older and more experienced. I’ve seen things…” Brady’s voice trailed off. Soren opened his mouth to argue back, but noticed a messy mop of light, sandy brown hair duck behind the corner. He pinched himself hard and held back.

“I don’t doubt that,” he said, keeping his voice measured. “Still, Dorian and Rey are what this is about. I’m looking out for my brothers and we’re doing them no favors by keeping them in the walls. They’ll have to learn one day, and now seems like the safest time.”

“So what? You’re asking my permission?” Soren had had enough.

“Not really,” he said quietly. “I’m just telling you what I’m planning and what I’m going to do. Join us if you get the chance.” [You might learn something.] Soren walked back around the corner toward their camp before Brady could respond. Their conversation hadn’t gone as smoothly as Soren would have liked, but at least he was able to say his piece.

When he returned, Dorian and Rey were huddled on their beds, legs crossed. They looked nervous. The sight made Soren’s heart sink. [They heard me arguing with their dad. Great.]

“Is… everything okay?” asked Rey, his soft, sweet voice barely carrying past their tent project. Soren tugged his lips into a partial grin, though it was more for reassurance than how he was actually feeling.

“Everything is fine. Your dad and I had a difference of opinion.” Soren remembered his mother had used this phrase when talking with Brady countless times. “We were talking about something important.”

“What’s that?” asked Dorian. Soren sighed before looking his brothers in the eye.

“Your borrowing training. It starts today.” The young boys’ eyes widened, each for a different reason. Dorian, excited, leapt out of the bed and cheered.

“No way! We’re going to get out and borrow stuff? That’s wicked awesome!”

Rey, on the other hand, seemed to shrink into himself a little more. He was excited, but also hesitant. Rey didn’t say anything, but Soren could tell the experience of seeing the outside world a few hours earlier was more scary than exciting than he let on initially.

“Since I have to go out again for food supplies, you can start with some simple exercises like pushups and leg bends. We’ll go over some of the basics tonight when I get back and start first thing in the morning. Sound good?”

“Awww!” whined Dorian. “Can’t we come with you? We can stay in the walls while you go out.” Soren chuckled.

“Not today bobbin. I have a long list of things I need to get. Anyway, you two have a task. See how many pushups and leg bends you can do until I get back, okay?” Soren smiled confidently at his brothers once they nodded an acknowledgment before standing and heading for his supply bag once more.

“Soren!” called Rey, stopping his brother in his tracks. “Be careful.” Soren nodded and gave a quick, two fingered salute before slinging his bag onto his back, securing his hook, and darting into the darkness of the halls.

~~~~~~

Soren hated leaving his brothers, especially after they witnessed a disagreement; but it couldn’t be helped. Soren was confident they had supplies for the next two days; but for a family of four, it wasn’t reassuring. He had already caused too much ruckus in the older human’s apartment, meaning there was only one other place he knew he could go. Unfortunately, he suspected they were home.

The two humans, a man and woman, had sporadic schedules at best. The only upside was that they were often arguing or shouting at one another. Soren hated to think about what would happen if they turned their anger toward their unexpected house guests in the walls, but he was grateful too. If they were concerned with one another, they were distracted and less likely to find him.

Soren jogged to the line he left by the bread box. Instantly, he knew they were home. They were shouting again. Soren felt his heart racing, nerves tingling with unease. The humans sounded louder than usual. He shook his thoughts from his head and tugged on the line, making sure it was secure. Then, he started to climb.

He used his legs to secure the line and his hand to steady himself as he inched his way up the thread. All the while, he could hear more arguing and several loud thuds – dangerously close thuds. Soren hoisted his leg over the rim of the board and laid against the board. The electrical cover was just in front of him. He could hear the humans much clearer now.

“What do you mean, ‘it just happened’?!” The woman shouted.

“Like I said, it was an accident,” replied the man angrily.

“You don’t just fall over on top of someone and have everything after be ‘an accident’.” Soren didn’t understand humans as much as he would have liked, but he didn’t need to understand humans to suspect what had happened. The woman continued. “And you went out last night.”

“I didn’t think I was under house arrest,” retorted the man.

“No, you’re not; but I know you didn’t just go to the shop down the street. You went out with them again, didn’t you?”

“Don’t start with me.”

“You know what’ll happen and you choose to do the same thing over and over!”

Soren remained huddled next to the wall cover and listened for the next ten minutes. It sounded like they were close to the kitchen. If Soren was right, the man would grab the keys and leave while the woman would huff off to another room. Sure enough, the man grabbed the keys and left the kitchen while the woman stormed off. Soren waited until he heard the grinding, whirring gears of the door machine and the roar of the car speeding away. Soren waited another minute before pressing his ear directly against the electrical cover.

He concentrated his listening until he was satisfied with the amount of silence. With fleet fingers, he unscrewed his entrance and stepped out onto the counter. He checked the counter quickly before ducking into the bread box. He couldn’t stay long. There was some bread in the back that had been crushed slightly by a new loaf. Perfect. There was little chance they’d notice a crumpled piece of bread going missing.

Soren opened the bag and compressed the wrinkled slice into his bag. It wasn’t pretty, but an entire end half could last a few days. Soren resealed the bag as best as he could before surveying the counter again. His heart was still pounding, but he kept his breathing even. Soren was about to dart toward the cover when he noticed something on the counter past the stove. His eyes widened.

Fresh fruit, an entire bowl, was sitting on the counter. Soren bit his lower lip. Did he press his luck once again? He already had a close encounter with the cat. He knew the human was still in the apartment. He was fully aware the other human could return any minute. Yet, Soren knew he could grab the first berry he could and make it back to the wall in no time. Before his mind could convince him otherwise, he charged out into the open. He threw the bag onto the counter near the entrance and leapt from the counter onto the stove and onto the other side. It wasn’t a large jump, but it was wide enough to get his ankle caught if he wasn’t paying attention.

Soren wrapped his arms around the first piece he could carry safely, a bright red strawberry, before turning on his heel and darting back. He kept himself low. His chest hurt with every beat. Still, he managed to slip unseen into the wall with berry and bag in tow; and just in time too. Just as his trembling fingers pulled the cover back behind him, the whirring of the mechanical gears and the car came rolling up.

Not as close as the cat, but still risky. Soren made a note to never teach his brothers to take so many risks. He sat against the wood to catch his breath as he listened to the jingle of keys and the human entering the apartment.

He dared not witness another argument. Using his hook, he lowered his bag and the berry to the ground before slipping over the edge and rappelling down safely to the ground. Soren rolled his shoulders once he was securely on the ground once again. He had been lucky twice in one day. Despite this, he scolded himself. [Keep spending your luck like this and you won’t have any if you really need it. You need to set a better example for your brothers, and that won’t happen if you don’t exercise the right precautions.]

Soren slung his bag and the berry onto his back. [Be more careful from now on. Dad was always careful – I need to be too.] The walk back always seemed shorter and soon Soren was back at camp. The scolding he gave himself as he walked seemed less important when he watched the way his brothers’ eyes lit up at seeing him. The risk was worth seeing their bright eyes widen, sweetened naturally by the fresh fruit.

They had their fill, ensuring the rest was secured off of the ground and away from the walls as they curled up for bed. The fabric Soren retrieved was warm and soft, leaving all of them to a blissful sleep – necessary rest for the training ahead of them in the morning.

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