#when a kid confides in me unless it is something actively dangerous I don’t feel the need to go behind their back and break their trust

[im-vibin]

Something I’m realizing now that I’m in my twenties and becoming an Adult is that a lot of the authority in my life simply didn’t have to be Like That.

[meesherbeans]

Baxter MC Week: Day 3 (Dance)

hey do you have any plans tonight?

I was planning on seeing a movie, would you care to join me?

ooh, a movie would be fun, but I wanted to ask you to do something else

Well, color me intrigued. What activity did you wish to invite me to on this beautiful evening?

huh, what color would ‘intrigued’ be? anyway, I know the prettiest place in town by far, and it’ll be even prettier at night, wanna go?

Prettiest? That’s a bold claim! I certainly must see this location if you claim it’s that beautiful.

awesome!!! I’ll pick you up when the stars come out!

And I shall await your arrival.

------------------------

Yukino kept peeking out the windows that faced the hill, hoping that the fireflies would make an appearance tonight. Her patience was finally rewarded with the sight of little lights floating in the distance, and she clapped her hands together once. Excellent. Surely, Baxter would think it was as magical as she did.

She threw on her sandals and half-pranced across the street to the condo where he was staying. Her finger gingerly pressed the doorbell, and she couldn’t help but excitedly glance over her shoulder while she waited for him, anticipating his reaction.

Don’t go away yet, fireflies, please!

“Well, fancy meeting you here, of all places, Yukino,” Baxter said as he opened the front door with a sparkle in his eyes and a smirk on his lips.

Her hand shot out, and she offered it to him with no hesitation. “Since I’m interrupting your very important plans, I better make up for it. C’mon!”

He looked at her with curiosity for a second, then placed his hand in hers; he started to snort-laugh when she began to tug him along.

“I hope they’re still there,” she mumbled to herself.

Baxter cleared his throat and reaffirmed his grip on her hand, gently pulling her to walk alongside him rather than half-drag him across the street. “I’m unsure what or who you’re expecting wherever we’re going, but it will be a good excursion regardless of the outcome.”

Yukino briefly glanced to the side, catching his eye before she continued to watch their footing. “And why’s that?” she prompted curiously as they stepped off the sidewalk and onto the grass.

“Well, whatever it is, we will inevitably enjoy it together, correct? That is the most important part of any event: the attendees.” He gently squeezed her hand.

Butterflies fluttered around in her stomach at the feel of his fingers tightening around hers, and Yukino giggled happily. “Okay, okay, that was a really good one. I’ll give y— ah! We’re almost there. You’ll have to close your eyes now.” She stopped and pulled his hand insistently.

He let her halt his forward momentum and turned to look at her with an astonished expression. The reason for his reaction was made clear when he asked her the most unexpected question in a gentle voice. “…Do people actually do that?”

It was all she could do not to melt whenever Baxter showed her that face; it was so ridiculously cute, and she could tell just how adorable he was as a little kid. But that expression also meant that he was clearly out of his depth and thought that these things only happened in stories. It’s exactly how he reacted when she told him about her volunteer work with ORCA.

“What, tell their boyfriend to close his eyes when they have a surprise?” She smiled and nodded, gently squeezing his hand before she moved to gesture for him to put his hands over his eyes. “Of course! Now, c’mon, unless you’d rather I cover your eyes for you?”

His teeth flashed white in the evening light as he laughed freely, something in his demeanor relaxing. “Understood! Would you prefer to cover my eyes, or do you trust me? A dangerous question, hmm?”

Yukino grinned and shook her head. “You’re not the kind of guy to ruin a surprise for himself,” she answered with confidence. “Just keep them closed and trust me this time.”

When her hand clasped around his again, he dutifully closed his eyes as promised. The smile on his face only widened as he carefully shuffled his way up the incline.

She knew this hill like the back of her hand, and she made sure he avoided stepping in the small little dips in the ground. “Almost there,” she assured him.

“I look forward to whatever it is.” He chuckled.

They finally arrived at the right spot. Yukino paused to turn and admire the sight she held so very dear. An endless expanse of stars twinkled in a rich, dark sky, mirrored by the slowly blinking lights that floated around them as they stood on the grass. She took a deep breath and slowly exhaled, squeezing Baxter’s hand. Her eyes drifted over to watch his face, both thrilled and a little nervous to share this with him. Poppy Hill was as much a part of her as the ocean itself.

“Okay,” she whispered. “You can look.”

Baxter slowly opened his eyes and blinked a few times, letting his sight unblur. When he finally began to take in the hill and all of the swaying white flowers as they danced in the evening sea breeze, his lips curled into a softer smile. “This is almost as charming as you,” he murmured appreciatively.

She huffed a laugh and gently pushed his shoulder. “It’s not flattery time. It’s ‘admire the amazing view’ time.”

“I am able to multitask, I would argue.” He reached to wrap an arm around her waist, pulling her against his side in a warm hug.

Yukino giggled and snuggled into him, lowering her head enough to try to rest it on his shoulder. They were the same height, though, so the top of her head ended up nestled into his neck instead – good enough.

Whatever thoughts ran through Baxter’s mind, he kept to himself. But she noticed that his arm tightened around her, and his head leaned to rest against hers with a gentle sigh that she could feel.

Time seemed to slow as the two of them stood there silently and enjoyed each other’s company. If anyone ever asked her to describe that moment in time, “magical” would be the best she could articulate.

Just as she started to feel the siren call of sleep, Baxter cleared his throat. “If I may be so bold, is the ground even enough for a dance?”

“A dance? Here?” The mere thought of it filled Yukino with delight, and she turned her face toward Baxter, her nose brushing his cheek.

He smiled indulgently and briefly nuzzled her nose with his cheek before slowly extracting himself from their embrace. “I can hardly think of a more fitting location or time, my brave knight Yukino,” he murmured with a wicked, teasing glint in his eye.

The jest was well-timed. Yukino stared at him with wide eyes, then burst into laughter. She had to quickly clap a hand over her mouth so that no one would know they were there.

“May I have this dance?” Baxter smirked and lifted his palm expectantly, ready to sweep her into a wonderful waltz once more.

They hadn’t danced together in years. The last time was when they first met for one magical number and parted as strangers. Now, they knew each other’s names, and they would meet again; if their track record thus far this summer was any indication, it would likely be tomorrow.

Yukino paused to take in the sight of her mysterious stranger, her temporary neighbor, her boyfriend, standing in this most special of spots, offering to complete the loop that started five years ago. She smiled softly and placed her hand in his as their eyes locked.

“Always.”

[fedzkun]

Villain Hunt Arc Meta: All For One’s Horrific Guide to Methodically Breaking Down Your Local OFA Holder

Ft. Turning the ‘Overpoweredness’ of OFA into a Setback, and AFO’s Successful Manipulations Of Midoriya Izuku

In which I also give AFO too much credit for all the pain he’s probably caused, and theorize that his plans to break Izuku actually started getting enacted even before he’d escaped Tartarus.

(A.k.a. me loving the angst because this is really good angst writing, but also hating it because the manga doesn’t come with a Angst with A Happy Ending tag unless you count Izuku’s ‘this is the story of how I became the greatest hero’ which isn’t really a guarantee of happiness )

So. What an arc! In the span of ten chapters (starting from the end of the War arc) Hori delivered a full-on Villain-looking, Vigilante Midoriya Izuku. Congratulations, Horikoshi, for finally introducing Akatani Mikumo!

The fast pacing and lack of breather panels are so fitting for this arc truly. AFO never gave them a moment’s rest. Yes, from henceforth as he’d promised... It’s always going to be his turn.

Izuku is making amazing progress with unlocking the full power of One For All. In his words, his abilities might as well already be on par with what a healthier All Might could do, and with no recoil to boot. Plus, there’s only one last quirk to unlock. For villain fights, I don’t think we need to worry about him losing, or him breaking anymore bones at this time.

Which, some might argue, makes Izuku too ‘OP.’

To start with, I want to talk first about the ‘overpoweredness’ of the One For All quirk. It’s a wonderful quirk truly, having inspired and amazed so many because of its sheer power. Used well, it could grant instant victories and restore the people’s wavering faith to the heroes. Because with a quirk like that on your side, everything’s going to be alright, right? There’s always gonna be that bit of hope that something is still strong enough to stand against the looming evil...right?

Yeah. That’s what the people who’d lived under All Might’s Era of Peace thought so too. History repeats.

OFA’s ‘OP-ness’ is both a great blessing and a great burden.

Here are some points on how the narrative has made OFA's 'overpoweredness' a setback:

1. All For One—that bastard—exploits the urge that comes with OFA. Just as ‘AFO the quirk’s’ goal is to steal OFA, OFA’s job is to defeat AFO, and Izuku is sacrificing himself to its cause.

Here’s another thing I want to point out: The conclusion that the heroes drew about AFO planning to capture Midoriya Izuku alive? In rereading, I’m starting to believe it’s nothing but a mere assumption of his plans. Aside from the deal made with Lady Nagant—of which I think AFO didn’t take seriously anyway and set her up for failure— (and while we as readers are already aware of his true intentions to wear Izuku down) it’s weird that nowhere had AFO directly mentioned to Izuku that he’s going to kidnap him and take his quirk from him.

2. OFA made Izuku so brilliant (e.g. Pros and former Pros alike going “This kid...”) that they really can't help but place all their hopes on him. Sighs. In an ideal world, this would be a dream come true of Izuku getting his due credit for all his heroic achievements Pro heroes have started to do to Izuku what they’ve done all their lives to All Might--which is to put him on the pedestal, while they fall back to cover him like guards/safety net. Hence, falling back to the One Pillar Model mindset.

3. OFA makes Izuku untouchable, not only to the villains, but also to his allies. Prime material to reinforce isolation. And if Izuku doesn't want to be caught, he won't make it easy for either side.

4. OFA IS SUS AF, OKAY? What are the Holders doing?! While gaining access to them makes it easier and convenient to have personal trainers in handling OFA, the vestiges prove to add a lot to Izuku’s mental load. If they’d allowed Izuku to come to the point of being caked with blood and filth, they’re not doing very well at guiding him. Realize that most of their arc interactions with Izuku is Quirk Talk. They, of all people, should know how AFO’s machinations work! Hey First, for the love of god, warn Izuku! He’s showing so many signs of being manipulated that you should be picking up on. please /sobs ;;

Tbf, like, I’m pretty sure that the Holders haven’t been as mentally okay either, which would feed into Izuku’s current mindset.

Now that the setbacks have been listed, let’s dive in to AFO’s plans to toy with Midoriya Izuku.

PHASE 1: Pre-Tartarus Breakout

Speaking of OFA being sus, there’s something that has been niggling at the back of my mind.

All For One basically tells Izuku: “You were my main interest that entire time I was in prison”. So, to pass the time in Tartarus (since he can’t use any(?) of his quirks), AFO has been doing nothing but apparently daydreaming and designing a personal hell for the Ninth Holder during that entire period. HOWEVER, it also made me wonder…

…Even before he’d broken out, had AFO made any moves at all in enacting his plans to break Izuku?

Yeah?

And here’s the kicker: he says that before Blackwhip bursted out.

AFO is a master manipulator. Assuming that Izuku doesn’t have any latent AFO quirk (for whatever reason *coughs* maybe dfo if you're a believer) or that Quirk Singularity has anything to do with it, what is the trigger to Izuku suddenly having access to Blackwhip?

I’d argue that it is All For One himself.

Why? What’s his goal? If you notice during the Joint Training arc, Izuku is feeling pretty confident about his progress. He’s rather happy and feeling blessed, and he is making leaps and bounds with base power OFA.

AFO can’t have that. He can’t allow the Ninth Holder to become too emotionally stable, or else he’d have a stronger will. So by somehow activating Blackwhip, AFO makes Izuku feel like he hasn’t made any progress with his quirk at all. During the evaluations, Izuku mentions that he still needs a lot to work on, and while not all of it is visible, with the way he behaves, it’s pretty evident that his self-confidence has taken a rather large hit.

But, wait! If AFO had tampered with OFA during the JT arc, paving the way to unlocking the rest (like he’d also done during the War arc when he tried to ‘steal’ it then), then wouldn’t AFO be sabotaging himself since he’d be making Izuku a more formidable opponent?

Sure. Except that the quirks inside OFA are mostly useless when it comes to the mental part of the fighting. The only thing they’re useful for is for the current Holder to be able to play keep-away in the physical realm. And AFO could easily just find counters for those through his work on Tomura.

You know how else the situation becomes advantageous for AFO? With every quirk unlocked, Izuku’s goalposts keep on getting away from him, and Izuku will always feel like he isn’t ready or prepared enough. Izuku will push and push himself to master OFA to its fullest, to become more powerful, at the cost of his mental/emotional stability and physical wellbeing as he wears himself down.

And every time Izuku grew more powerful, and became more ‘OP,’ he is burdened with all the aforementioned setbacks that came with it. He could be the most powerful person in the world, but it’s all for naught if he doesn’t take care of himself. This plan is both a high risk and high reward on AFO’s part, and as of the moment, with a bloody Izuku staggering all over, AFO is visibly reaping these high rewards.

PHASE 2: Post-Tartarus Breakout

He’s going to toy with Izuku until Izuku fucking breaks. What follows is his series of actions that instills the desired responses from Midoriya Izuku. Let’s see how the master manipulator plays this game of chess, shall we?

Izuku’s plan: Reach out to villains and try to save them.

AFO’s counter: Kill off those who turn their back against villainy and/or acknowledge Izuku as a true hero.

Izuku’s resulting response: Stop reaching out to villains. Gain an instant victory and move on.

After all, what do you get when you block a hero from showing sympathy? You get an unfeeling living weapon.

---

Izuku’s plan: Work with the top pro heroes to bring down AFO.

AFO’s counter: Make plans that will serve to highlight how the top pros are just slowing Izuku down. (e.g. Making moves while it’s raining, so as to divide them, but also to bring out No. 1 Hero Endeavor’s "slowness" in the rain. Nope, I don’t think that’s a throwaway line at all.)

Izuku’s resulting response: Grows more reckless, often leading the charge.

---

Izuku’s plan: Track AFO down.

AFO’s counter: Lead them to dead-ends. Or when they do supposedly reach something, endanger them.

Izuku’s resulting response: His tunnel vision worsens, as he grows more desperate.

---

Izuku’s plan: All Might following him around is okay since it would help All Might from worrying so much, and Izuku could simultaneously keep an eye on and protect All Might.

AFO’s counters: There are a lot to really fuck with this bond, damn you AFO.

Taint that passing the torch memory of ‘You’re Next.’

Declare that All Might no longer interests him. Liar. He outright stated before that he’s one for keeping a grudge

Send another assassin to Izuku [Underlying Message: You yourself are a walking danger zone to those whom you dearly care for.]

Izuku’s resulting response:

Interpret that memory of ‘You’re Next’ as taking up the position of being AFO’s shiny new plaything, and therefore supposedly sparing All Might from the torment (Unfortunately, making Izuku push AM away is just part of the torment ;A;)

Think that AM is no longer in the direct line of fire as long as AFO focuses on Izuku

Finally, push his last line of morale support away, and completely isolate himself.

Btw, I wonder how All Might feels about Izuku using Nana's quirk to get away from him.

---

The suffering doesn’t end.

Izuku’s plan: Save people.

AFO’s counters: (possibly offscreen) Send more villains and assassins to torment Izuku some more with the knowledge that he can’t save them. Sending villains out also puts innocents in danger.

Izuku’s resulting response: He won’t stop for anything. He won’t sleep, won’t eat, won’t slow down. He will always do his best to save as long as someone is in danger.

His body will keep on moving and moving and MOVING on its own.

--- All For One is very effective as a supervillain. He has managed to make the heroes think that his only goal is to capture Izuku alive for his quirk. He has Izuku right where he wants him: dancing to his tune at the palm of his hand, utterly toyed with, left with no escape in sight.

Psychologically vaulted.

.

.

.

PHASE 3

And so, if Izuku is being manipulated to drive himself further and further into self-destruction, what then is there left for All For One to do?

So much more. Because, my god, I think AFO has mastered the art of traumatizing the OFA Holders.

All For One once told All Might, “I will destroy all that you’ve protected.” And boy, is he delivering. He's definitely not done with AM btw.

First, he destroys All Might's image. And he is manipulating Izuku to drive himself to that point. To looking into his absolute worst.

And when that point arrives, AFO will hammer the final nail home.

Something like...

BEHOLD

JAPAN’S SYMBOL OF PEACE.

And oh, how it'll hurt. To see All Might's pride and joy be flaunted about as looking nothing like a hero to the masses, for him to be so utterly humiliated.

"See what I did to All Might's successor."

AFO will be banking upon the possibility that the angry masses will not want to be saved by whom they're tricked into viewing as someone that's the cause of all the pain. Izuku might have the willpower to stay true to his resolve, but with him on the verge of total breakdown, what would happen when he is shunned by the very people he is trying to help?

I once wrote a post about how the current events seem to be a bastardization of Izuku's wildest fantasies: he's working with the top pros, he has the most powerful quirk, and he's working with All Might (whom technically acts as a sidekick to him rn).

AFO has warped all that into a never-ending nightmare. And Izuku...

Izuku is really in need of saving.

Last thoughts:

Let me just say that it shouldn't be a competition about who gets to get through to Izuku. Right now, he’s gonna need all the help he can get, and it can’t be delivered by only one or two people. Saving Izuku is going to be a team effort, a solid support system that sees Izuku as their classmate/friend/student/actual person that they care about. And there’s sufficient space for that.

More hands reaching out means more chances to catch him if he falls.

[mythicalmongoose]

You know what? Let’s go. I’m a big, brave girl. Let’s go ahead and get my most controversial meta out of the way. A while back I made a post I did not tag, wherein I sheepishly touched on Daniel and his relationship to trauma. I’ve had a few people message me about that with their 10 cents and experiences, so it’s been on my brain since then.

So, yeah, unpopular opinion on Daniel, trauma, and bullying in 3... 2... 1

I want to make it clear, first and foremost, that I’m not trying to invalidate anyone. I’m talking about a fictional character and only a fictional character. If you can relate and identify with Daniel on some level, please don’t think I’m trying to take that away from you.Your experiences are your own. How you feel about them is how you feel about them. Trauma isn’t a dick measuring contest. You’re valid.

C-PTSD is on my super cool little list of things I’m diagnosed with, and I have clocked many, many hours in psychiatric hospitals with folks that also struggle with trauma, so I’m something of a psychologist myself I only have anecdotal experience with this shit. Take anything I say with a grain of salt, my dudes.

It kind of bugs me how focused some people are on the show exploring Daniel’s trauma, the assertion that there’s PTSD going on there, ect. I feel like the show does okay with that already because, unless confronted directly by something or someone he recalls from his past as dangerous he’s, like, super well-adjusted for a dude that was targeted by a couple of unhinged senseis as a teen and got dangled off a cliff once.

Seeing Cobra Kai reopen? Nope. Cobra Kai’s only student showing up to a dance in the iconic skeleton onesie. Nope. Nope. Next Silver and Kreese show up at Cobra Kai? Nope. Nope. Nope.

Now I’ve never, as the kids say, “coped” with many things “well.” But being deeply troubled by dangers from your past showing up on your doorstep is something literally anyone would be triggered by. I think that’s pretty normal and healthy. It may compromise Daniel’s decision-making, but I feel like that’s because active threats often do for most people and, historically, he’s an impulsive hothead with questionable decision making skills.Which, to be clear, is a flaw that I love. A+ Wouldn’t change a thing.

Daniel has had a pretty great life since the movies. The support of Miyagi and MVP single mom Lucille. A wonderful wife, the love of his kids, gorgeous house. He owns his own business that’s doing great, has financial stability. We don’t see him associating any bad memories with his karate days. It’s something he brags about and uses as a gimmick to sell cars pays tribute to through his work. The Kill Bill sirens only go off when he sees a Cobra Kai dojo in a strip mall which is a totally reasonable reaction. These aren’t small and innocuous things that are getting a reaction out of him; they’re, again, very real threats on his doorstep that need to be handled.

And, oh God, I’m not even at what might be my most controversial of opinions:

I don’t think Daniel is a victim of bullying.

Okay, now please hold onto your pitchforks and torches. Hear me out:

Daniel is charming, confident, and never especially unpopular. None of this takes place over an especially long period of time. What the Cobras do isn’t so much bullying as it is, like... two counts of assault?

Which is also very bad and potentially traumatic but, in this instance, different. Not objectively better or worse but apples and oranges... Or oranges and grapefruit, maybe. Still in the citrus family.

I was bullied all throughout grade school. I imagine many people reading this were as well... No offense. It’s just that you’re reading overly long meta over-analyzing a silly karate show right now. It feels like a safe guess.

Daniel isn’t really afraid of the Cobras at any point. He openly antagonizes them after Miyagi brokers a truce. At worst, he’s just fucking done with their bullshit. And then the Cobras realize he’s 10x cooler than them at the tournament and that’s that.

He was never vulnerable like Miguel or an Aisha. He’s not socially awkward or easily intimidated. I’m not even convinced that he wasn’t more well-liked at that school than the Cobra clique was.

Ironically, it seems like, between Sid and Kreese, Johnny has more experience with being bullied. And is a pretty good portrayal of C-PTSD, imo. Johnny being so stuck on the bad in his past that he can’t move forward while Daniel draws on the good in his own is a nice parallel. But I’m getting off topic.

Anyway, I dunno, I just feel odd about people insisting the show isn’t showing us his struggles with what he’s experienced. Because I feel like it does. (With the caveat that you’ve watched the movies.) It’s fine in self-indulgent fics, but getting mad they aren’t giving a character more angst feels kind of... I dunno. Is romanticizing the right word here?

Like, Daniel has been through some shit. Maybe some of it was even genuinely traumatizing for a time. But I’d kind of like to normalize the idea that people can move past it without any lingering scars and live a bomb ass life?

Also, I’m way more invested in the show tackling the problems Daniel actively has. (imo) Like complicated grief over Miyagi and his struggle to really find his own identity without feeling like he’s dishonoring his memory. The lessons Miyagi taught him being at odds with his car salesman nature is just *chef’s kiss* some juicy angst the fandom is sleeping on in favor of pushing for PTSD.

[ganymedesclock]

a thing about your headcanons that really intrigues me is that, much as Knuckles seems to have originally been done as a contrast or rival to Sonic back in the Genesis days, your take on them has a opposite approach to the responsibility they feel, but done in opposite ways. Sonic runs from responsibility and doesn't want to think about it, while Knuckles feels guilty about NOT being responsible to an extreme, and since people don't often deal with how they're similar, i really like this

Honestly, this is a thread that is not exclusive to Sonic and Knuckles, but actually ties in heavily to a major theme I'm considering and working in Worlds AU.

Basically, "freedom" has always at least nominally been a theme associated with Sonic. It's in his motifs, it's in his attitudes, it's the quality that people tend to envy when they compare themselves to him- whether that's Knuckles who feels bound by fate and obligation, Tails who feels like he might not be enough or can only keep up, Amy who dreads the drudgery of her ordinary life by comparison. Hell, one could say it's even in the many one-off characters who are introduced with Sonic blowing into their life, changing things, inspiring them to grow, and then leaving- Elise, Merlina, Chris Thorndyke, Chip, Shahra.

But it's a theme that's kind of been weakened in the direction that the games took.

In Sonic SatAM, the concept of freedom vs. tyranny was rife in the setting. Robotnik had his boot down on 90% of the world and the remaining pockets are either actively dwindling, or struggling along as best they can through limited resources. All characters are- at any time- in danger of losing specifically their freedom; not their minds, but control of their bodies. And it's a compelling hook.

But the gameverse has very long not been that, and since Sonic Adventure, the world of the games has been very metropolitan. There's a bunch of cities and countries and everybody's going about their daily lives and Eggman's still a wannabe conqueror but he's now become abstracted, a supervillain, who might have this big scheme or that, but- basically until Sonic Forces- we have never had Eggman really decisively in control. And in his absence, there are not really ever any consistent or clear threats to freedom except that, yeah, we guess if we let someone like Solaris or Perfect Chaos or Black Doom run wild long enough that would kill people and then nobody would be free, but... that's an abstract and inelegant way to speak to one of your main center themes.

(and I personally don't like Forces basically trying to reinstate- even if temporarily- the SatAM status quo, even if I think some people like the IDW comics have done interesting things with that, but that's my personal relationship with the character of gameverse Eggman and how I view him distinctly from SatAM Robotnik, as absolutely iconic as the latter is)

I don't think you need an encroaching dystopia per se to make a meaningful discussion out of freedom- I think using the modern gameverse's more colorful, populated world opens up a lot of possibilities for that. So, a major thematic thing I've landed on is that abject tyranny- while the easiest 'threat to freedom' to scan and oppose- and an important one!- is not remotely the only thing that challenges freedom.

A big thing is responsibility.

Responsibility is the thing that most of us sacrifice our freedom to on a daily basis. That may sound dramatic, but it's true; we may have other reasons for it, but we don't just run off somewhere else or go have an adventure or leave our job because we feel responsible to things. And responsibility isn't a bad thing- it's good to feel reliable or trustworthy. If you enjoy your job or your coworkers, you want to do well at it. Having a house is a responsibility, we take care of them. Having a relationship of any kind is a responsibility; so is having kids. If none of us were ever responsible, society would fall apart and we'd all live lonely lives. Moreover, we'd have very little power- ironically a lack of responsibility can lead to a lack of freedom in some regards.

But also, it's very easy to give too much of yourself away and not have any left. I mentioned before that many characters are consistently depicted, across many continuities, idealizing Sonic- because Sonic's free! Sonic doesn't buy groceries or pay taxes or do boring stuff, he certainly isn't stuck in a frustrating or isolating situation, and this can even tie into one of Sonic's major themes- he refuses to be talked into accepting lesser evils.

In Sonic and the Black Knight, Merlina tries to explain to him why she's using Excalibur's scabbard- why she's doing bad things, trying to justify it that she can't just let the kingdom end, even if that means needing to twist it into a horrible place to live- to which she at one point, in frustration, asks if Sonic understands, to which he responds, "No, and I don't want to."

While it's not exactly a perfect moral stance (those don't exist), there is something to be said powerfully for the idea that Sonic as a person has a certain rejection of responsibility as a chain to let bad things happen. He rejects loyalty to a thing that drives you into cruelty.

And this is really interesting, when we consider- specifically in the very first game that featured Shadow and featured him explicitly as a dark antithesis to Sonic- that is exactly what happens to Shadow.

Shadow is not, by default, an amoral person. Pre-trauma, we see that he doesn't want to hurt others, and frankly, as much as "ow the edge" circles (and is somewhat warranted), we can often see that he's standoffish but fairly civil; someone who is dealing with a lot of stresses and problems, but doesn't often relish hurting others unless he's already desperate, frustrated, or looking for an outlet or solution. And in adventure 2, Shadow is led into nearly ending the planet on account of loyalty; to the idea of Maria, to what he believes she asked him to do (and what he believes is owed to the people who killed her)

It's kind of conspicuous that if you think about it, most of Shadow's arcs in various games that focused on him are about questions of what's owed- to him, or to the world. Does he owe a debt to Eggman? Rouge? Black Doom? Gerald? Maria? Does the world owe him a debt of anger and pain to be paid back in vengeance, or, is he the one who owes the world a chance? Does he owe himself a chance? These are questions of Responsibility.

So to bring this back to Sonic and Knuckles, I think that's an interesting context to set them apart, because both of those two definitely have a special relationship with the Chaos Emeralds. Knuckles is the guardian of the shrine that doesn't just have positions for the Master Emerald, but all seven smaller ones as well; and Sonic... well, Sonic consistently and regularly does stuff with the chaos emeralds nobody else does. He transfers super forms to other people, or even awakens them in people who haven't done it before (as implied with Burning Blaze in Sonic Rush). And at least according to Sonic 3&K, his arrival (?) was foretold.

But Sonic... does not feel responsible about the chaos emeralds. If something's happening with them he wants to know but it's about curiosity. When the chaos emeralds are corrupted, tarnished, and lose power, Sonic... juggles them, while he's confused about his own (related) corruption. It's weird, it's concerning, but it's not an obligation. He gets distracted buying ice cream in the same scene.

By contrast, the only time Knuckles feels confident shattering the Master Emerald, it's as an obligation- he has to protect it from Eggman even if it creates more work for himself, and he later freaks out and nearly crashes the shuttle he and others are on when a near-miss scatters the master emerald pieces he's collected across the ARK. I can only imagine half of the plot of Sonic Unleashed would've given Knuckles an ulcer if he'd been around for it. You did what to the Chaos Emeralds, Sonic????

Basically, I think while freedom vs. tyranny is definitely Sonic's brand, you can have a lot more fun and shore up the thematic strength by also factoring in "responsibility" as a secondary theme and this strengthens or illuminates many characters and their arcs.

[writingindulgence]

Painting Nails with Gojo Satoru (x reader)

Pairings: Gojo Satoru x (unspecified-gender) reader

Genre: Good friends with some mutual pining, a bit of fluff and a bit of uncertainty, reader has their mind in the gutter for a split second 

Lmao, how long can someone write about painting nails T.T 2800+ words

When you recently mentioned that you had no free time to refresh your nails due to the influx of odd jobs here and there, you didn’t think that it would lead to your long time friend, Gojo Satoru, sneaking into your room at the Tech with a bag full of nail polish.

He was in the middle of laying them out haphazardly onto the coffee table. Colours ranging from neon bright to the darkest of shades stood before your very own eyes on full display. Their shapes were as varied as the palette. Standard round, rectangle shapes, funky stars and fragile butterflies just to name a few. 

The shock of what was transpiring had yet to register in your mind, a dumbfounded look creeping onto your face.

It wasn’t even the first time that this has occurred. Once in a while you would come back from a mission in another city, ready to fall down onto your bed in the one place that you could call home, only to have this excuse for a friend barge in on your time of relaxation. Sometimes, you didn’t inform anyone when you would be back in the hopes of being left alone but he always seemed to find out the best time to annoy you. When you were tired. 

“What the actual fuck are you doing in my room Gojo-san?”, you drop your tattered bag onto the ground before closing the door. 

The feeling of his incoming whines and guaranteed pout had become something of a sixth sense to you now. You thought that maybe he would grow out of it after his teenage years but the gods weren’t as merciful as you once believed them to be. 

“(Y/n)-channnn, why are you so mean to me? I haven’t done anything for you to call me that”, he dramatically groaned out before flopping onto your bed. 

Glancing at the table, you notice that his sudden movement knocked over some of the bottles.  

You also know what he meant by that. You only ever call him ‘Gojo-san’ when he screws up or when you are both in the presence of his students. 

As much as he likes to tease you in front of important people, you aren’t that unprofessional as to disrespect him as an educator in front of the students that he teaches. The kids already make fun of him and if you were to join in at the same time then you would begin pitying the man. 

You walk over to the sprawled lamp post of a human and indicate with your hand to scoot over before proceeding to throw yourself down beside him. 

“What is this about, Toru-kun?”, your eyes lazily scan over the nail polish. Of course you know what is going on but Gojo Satoru is a man that enjoys being humoured. 

Poor Ijichi-kun ends up as the victim of a lot of his whims when you’re away. Scratch that, even when you are around the unfortunate fellow gets bullied like a kindergartner at a playground.

“So~ I’ve noticed that your nails-,”

“I mentioned it.”

“.. have been looking rather-,”

“I mentioned it.”

“..duller than usual so-”,

“I-”, 

His body flew up from the lying position and a hand suddenly came into your view. Before you could do anything, Gojo clamped it over your mouth, an unseen eye-roll definitely going off under his blindfold. 

He wasn’t really irritated but you took it as a win for all the times he irked you in the past month.

“I NOTICED YOUR NAILS LOOKING DULLER THAN USUAL SO I WENT OUT OF MY HUMBLE WAY TO BUY THESE,” he finally lets you go after finishing what he wanted to say.

The sheets under you have become disheveled, your thrashing around to get away and shut his loud mouth in case Principal Yaga hears brought about no results. There was no rule against being in the same room, you weren’t some silly teenagers and even if you were, the Tech wasn’t that strict anyway, but the thought of his disappointing gaze burning into your soul…

Your thoughts are disrupted when Gojo throws two pillows onto the floor. Knowing that there is no escaping this, you dust down your clothes and gracefully sit down. 

Who knows? This may actually turn out to be relaxing. Even if you’re wrong then spending time with friends is precious, no matter the activity. Especially in this line of work. There is no telling when one might hear the news of their comrades’ death. 

Gojo sits on the other free pillow and smiles. “Any colour pulling you in? If not then I would love to recommend, you know, I’m sort of an expert at this.”

You laugh slightly at his confidence before agreeing to his proposal. As long as it’s not too ugly then you really don’t mind what he ends up picking. 

In fact, you trust his judgement when it comes to fashion. His casual outfits always end up taking your breath away. You’re forever glad when he forces you to go along with him to the shopping district. You know your style and what you’re comfortable with but Gojo presents you with something unique every time.

“Hmmmm...then, what about this one?”, the hand that was under his chin as he was contemplating leaves its position and he quickly picks up a (f/c) nail polish. 

The container is cute too, a glass cat face. Though how did he figure out what colour this was with that blindfold? Only Gojo knows. 

You reach out for the item but he leans back and pulls it to his chest. Your eyebrows scrunch in confusion. 

“(Y/n), (Y/n), (Y/n)...,” he creates an X with his arms before continuing, “Bzzzt! Did you really think I would be so rude as to leave you alone with that tedious job? Who do you take me for?”. 

He grasps the fabric where his heart is located and fakely sniffles. Oh, so he wants to paint them for you. Figuring out that you may as well indulge in a little care, you extend your hand for him to hold. 

Gojo twists the nail brush open and dips it into the bottle a few times. His tongue is poking out as he tests how much of the liquid is on the brush. You don’t even question how he will paint your nails without seeing properly. Understanding his infinite capabilities has become second nature to you. 

Instead, you focus on the feeling of his hand when it grasps yours. 

It’s bigger and somewhat rougher, though not uncomfortable. Really, it feels secure to have around your own.

Jerking back at your line of thinking, you can feel the heat growing on your face by the second. Calm down there, no need to get ahead of yourself. You’ve held hands many times in the city before so that you don’t get ‘lost’, how is this any different?

“Hey now!,” Gojo grips your hand more firmly than before. 

“Sorry, sorry. I had an itch,” you come up with an excuse and double down when you scratch your shoulder with a free hand. 

He doesn’t say anything in return, there are none of his usual comebacks. That’s suspicious, he always needs to have the last word in no matter what. 

Instead he applies the first stroke of nail polish on one of your nails. 

His movements are steady, no shaking, and he doesn’t miss any spots. The process is...pleasant, being attended to by another. 

He moves on to your second finger, repeating the action from the previous one, applying just as much attention. 

Now that you are sitting still, barely breathing as you look on, his hold has become almost airy. Unless you focused purely on the skin to skin contact, it was as if your hand was levitating. 

Ah, technically he could be using ‘Infinity’ and keeping your hand away but...it made you feel weirdly unhappy. Your mouth tugged down in dissatisfaction unconsciously.

At the same moment, Gojo grasped the next finger on the list, the sudden feeling coming as a surprise. You barely held in the shocked gasp, tingles travelling up your arm. 

He didn’t say anything and continued the procedure. 

You peeked at his face to see if you could read him but there was nothing at all to go off on. No smile, smirk, pout or frown. 

Sheer concentration. 

It wasn’t unwelcome, in fact it was peaceful without the usual banter. And it wasn’t unbearably serious either. If you had to put a word on it then it felt...intimate.‘Wow, what the hell? Chill, he’s only a friend and this is simple nail painting’.

The clock in your room ticked continuously until eventually your fingernails were all finished. It took extra long because Gojo insisted that the proper way to do it was to paint two layers. So in the end you had to sit through another few minutes that honestly felt like an eternity. 

You hoped that you hadn't sweated with how warm it had gotten on your end.

“Alright! It’s your turn (Y/n)-chan,” he made finger guns and pointed them at your bewildered expression. 

“It isn’t fair if only you get this spa worthy treatment, no?”.

“Satoru, I think you overestimate my ability to paint nails. Of course, I do a fantastic job on myself but I am hopeless when it comes to others,” you explain. 

You may have over exaggerated a bit but if this goes on then your thoughts will enter dangerous territory, not that they haven’t already.

Distractions aren’t helpful when you are a jujutsu sorcerer, particularly in the romantic scene. 

Have you daydreamed about such scenarios? Yes. 

Would you like to experience them? Definitely. 

However, what you want and what you can have are at odds with each other.

“Don’t be a bore, come on, come on,” he sticks out his own hand before thinking up something and reaching towards his blindfold. “Let’s make it a challenge. I had such a difficult time so you have to suffer too”. 

He frees his eyesight and stands up. You’re about to follow but he shakes his head and kneels behind you. 

The smooth fabric covers your eyes and the pressure as he tightens the blindfold rubs against the back of your head. This feels like the beginning of a dirty situation-

A resounding smack travels in the enclosed room as you slap your cheeks simultaneously. This isn’t the time nor place.

“I’m accepting my resolve,” you throw out before Gojo can ask you why you hit yourself in the face. 

You hear him shuffle back to the pillow as well as glass tapping against glass. A nail polish bottle is shoved into your unprepared self. “I’m in your hands now,” he laughs stupidly to himself at his own pun. You can’t help cracking a small smile too.

Blindly, you fiddle around in front of you, wanting to start this. Clicking your tongue, you’re about to give out but Gojo finally decides to stop being a prick and gives you his hand. His shakes from laughter make themselves known but you ignore him. 

Unscrewing the bottle cap, you get to work. 

Only, you have to feel around for his fingernail. It’s impossible to hit the target without searching around first. 

You become overwhelmingly aware of the close proximity yet again and your heart skips a beat. The fact that you can’t see anything makes it far worse as your sense of touch becomes more sensitive. Your shaking hand dabs the point where you think the nail polish goes and you begin painting. 

Gojo’s amusement must have stopped too since you don’t hear him chuckling anymore. Is he looking at you? Or is he looking at his poor skin whenever you miss the fingernail? He doesn’t have his blindfold on so his eyes have to be focused on something. 

But what?

The silence becomes unmanageable and the constant skin against skin friction twists your insides. Is it just you? Or does he also think the same way?

“You know, you have pretty eyes. If you start an Instagram page with photos of them then you’ll get a following in no time,” you offhandedly mention to start a conversation. Knowing Gojo he’ll take the compliment, tease you a bit and move on. You shift around in the pillow before progressing onto the other hand, having speedrun the first, before he starts talking.

“That’s not a bad idea. You can do the eyeshadow and we can make some money,” he hums in agreement. The sound of extra cash nearly makes you drool but then a realisation hits you, like a truck an isekai protagonist. If you were to do the eyeshadow then you will no doubt have to be very close to his face. No way.

“On second thought, I don’t think we have the time,” you laugh it off. 

His disagreement comes soon after. 

“Haaaaaaah?! Then why did you mention it?”. His muscles tense, about to pull back to cross his arms but he remembers that you’re in the middle of painting his nails. 

After that, you both fall silent again. 

In the end, you get through the last finger and close the nail polish bottle. You tried your best, having taken your time despite it making you feel a certain way whenever you had to touch him longer than is necessary. 

You get up and reach out to unhook the blindfold but larger hands stop you in your tracks from behind. They pull yours away and drop them at your sides. 

“Allow the amazing gentleman, Gojo Satoru,” he gently takes it off as you stand unmoving. 

When light from the window hits your face, you scrunch your eyelids shut, waiting to adjust to the bright atmosphere. A hand patting down your hair makes them shoot open and you turn around to complain. 

Whatever you were going to say gets caught in your throat as you look up into his light blue eyes. His expression is serene, free of any worries but his eyes seem to be trying to speak a thousand words. 

They too look composed but you get the feeling that he’s trying to communicate something to you.

Swallowing, you clench your hand (conscious of the recently dry nail polish), and place it over your chest. “Satoru..um,” you pause, not fully comprehending what you want to say, or rather, how you want to say it.

Your eyes widen when you notice his hand traveling towards yours. 

Clumsily spinning around, you head for the pillows and shake off the dust that accumulated on them. 

“Thanks for today. I’ll have a nap, since I’m still tired from the flight.” 

You show your gratitude but hide the words your heart wanted to really express. 

You don’t turn around to see his expression. The sound of his blindfold going over his eyes is what you hear first. Then, 

“Don’t worry your sleepy head over it! Sweet dreams, (Y/n)”.

The door opens and closes gently behind you. 

Once you’re sure that he is far down the hallway, you throw yourself onto your bed, put the pillow over your face and scream. Feeling a little foolish, you stop and look over your nails. 

He really did a great job.

-Next Day-

The sun is shining brightly therefore there is no better time to take a walk. Which is why you aren’t surprised when you stumble upon Sukuna’s vessel, Itadori Yuuji. 

The teenager has a tub of ice cream with him. Maybe you should get some too? Gojo is bound to have some in his mini freezer.

“Ah! Hello, (L/n)-san,” the boy waves his hand in greeting and jogs over. 

“Itadori-kun, is it alright for you to be outside like this?,” you ask with concern. 

There are only a few people that know about his current state of being alive. When you heard that he died, you came as fast as possible to comfort Gojo. 

“It’s fine! Everyone is gone and Ijichi-san is on the lookout at the front gate. He’s meant to give me a ring you see”. He looks down.

“Oh! You’ve got some nice nails there,” he points out as he takes a bite out of the dessert. “You match with Gojo-sensei,” he adds after a second.

You pause your appreciative smile at his compliment. Excuse me? 

“Excuse me? Match?,” you prod him to elaborate.

The teenager scratches his cheek. 

“Ehh, but he said the plan was to match all along. Though they don't exactly look the same”.

Your eyes tear up in embarrassment at the turn of events. You’re matching nails? You thought for definite that he would wash them off when he gets back to his room. Not only that but putting the blindfold over your eyes must have been his sly way of making sure that you don't notice they're the same colour. 

Itadori shakes his hands in front of him before bowing. “I-I’m sorry (L/n)-san! I did not mean to insult the way you painted Gojo-sensei’s nails. They are a bit tactless compared to yours but that’s okay,” he apologises profusely, mistaking the root of your shame.

‘That dumbass Gojo Satoru’

[exn0bisstudios]

As a preface: no need to answer if you don’t feel comfortable with it,I know people sometimes don’t like these questions so no pressure if you’re one of them! Who likes kids, who would like to be a parent (if their partner also wanted that of course!), and who is good with kids? Thank you!

Well, firstly, thank you for your concern! I'm okay with these topics so long as it's not about me personally, so don't worry! That said, though, I'll put this under a cut since the topic might be uncomfortable for some people.

CW for: talk involving conception, infertility, pregnancy, miscarriage

Edited 5/16 - Changes to include more inclusive language. My apologies! 

Since we're talking about the ROs and kids, let us talk about MC too for a sec.

It should be noted that it is typically challenging for a Seer to bear children/impregnate someone. The corruption that comes with their Void powers usually renders them infertile, or at least close to. However, it's not unheard of for a Seer to have children. Still, it usually results in a difficult pregnancy and can be dangerous to both the carrier and the child. Additionally, any child born from a Seer (either parent) would be Dream-touched.

That said, as we know, MC is a very special Seer. Canonically, their powers have not rendered them infertile, though their kid would still end up Dream-touched. However, I will be leaving it up to players to decide if their MC can or can't have biological kids for other reasons. And, obviously, adoption is also very much an option!

Now on to the ROs!

Mira

Mira likes kids well enough, and they're usually very good with them. They struggle a bit with dealing with noble children. Still, Mira's kind and empathetic nature tend to have children warming up to them regardless. They used to help take care of the young recruits back at the Order, both daily routine stuff and some training.

They would absolutely love to have a family one day, but it's something they kinda push to the back of their mind and try not to think about. Their lifestyle doesn't lend itself to the stability and safety necessary for raising children, considering they could be killed in action any day. They think it would be grossly irresponsible to have a family, then end up dead somewhere and leave them hanging. Mira was an orphan themself, and they know firsthand how hard life is for kids on their own. They have no desire to contribute to that lifestyle or put their own potential child through that.

If there ever came a time where they could lay down their weapons for good, though, then yes. They'd want to start a family in whatever way they could. Though not opposed to having biological children, both masc & fem Mira would prefer to adopt. Again, being an orphan themself, they would choose to take in a child. Mira would ideally like 2-3 kids so they can have a big family to grow old with, and they'd be a very supportive and doting parent. They'd probably struggle with discipline.

Nova

Children confuse the absolute shit out of Nova, and the way mortals procreate admittedly terrifies them. Nightmares are not born in the same sense that mortals are; they just kinda pop into existence fully formed. When Nova first learned about mortal procreation, they had a minor mental breakdown. The idea of another, smaller living thing growing inside someone strikes them as distinctly horrific. They've done their best to accept the idea at this point in their life, but mainly they cope with it by ignoring its existence. They see a pregnant person and basically go, 'suddenly I have no eyes.' Babies and children continue to confuse them despite their best efforts, and they have no idea how to interact with them. You put a child around Nova, and you're liable to hear them genuinely asking the kid why they are so small and dumb.

Nova's mortal body is also infertile by design. They chose this shortly after they realized they actually enjoyed sex and would do it again. They don't know if it would be possible for them to become pregnant/impregnate someone, considering they're not actually mortal. Still, they didn't want to risk it.

The only time Nova would consider starting a family is if it was something their partner(s) really, really wanted. They'd sit down and have an honest talk about how it's something that they know nothing about, that the process scares them, and that they are absolutely going to need help learning how to handle it all. But, if their partner is willing to accept all that, Nova would be willing to try. Though again, they don't know if they can procreate with a mortal, so they'd probably recommend going for a surrogate or adoption. Eventually, Nova'd grow into a good parent, very supportive, and surprisingly level-headed.

Stella

They don't have too much of an opinion on children, which shows in how they don't really know how to interact with them. Stella feels super awkward around kids, and they're more likely to tell them to shoo. Their own childhood has tainted their views, and being around children brings up things they'd rather not think about. Honestly, the fastest way to make Stella disappear is to put a child nearby.

Deep down, though, they like the idea of starting a family. It would take a lot of encouragement to get them to admit that. It'd take even more to help them process long-ignored family-related trauma and unlearn a whole lot of unhealthy habits. With the proper support from their partner(s), though, they'd really like to give things a try. Fem Stella wouldn't mind carrying a child. Still, both fem & masc Stella generally don't care if their kid is biological or adopted.

Stella would make for a very nervous parent, and they'd be absolutely terrible at discipline. They'd probably helicopter and be overprotective and would have to be reminded by their partner(s) that things will be okay.

Désiré

So a bit of history: Dez is one of the only two ROs who already has child-rearing experience. His best friend and second-in-command, Alix, was born and raised in the brothel with him. While he grew up to be an errand boy and bodyguard, she became one of the courtesans. He took up smuggling and worked his ass off to get them out of there, but unfortunately, Alix became pregnant before they could escape. Alix's son, Dimitri, was born in the cabin of the first ship Dez ever owned.

Alix eventually married Catarina, the crew's healer, who has acted as Dimitri's other mother. Thus, while Dez is 'officially' Dimitri's uncle, he has always been his only father-figure. Dimitri is 14 by the time of the game and is still a very active part of Désiré's life. You'll actually get a chance to meet him in-game since he's got a place on Dez's crew (he's the cabin boy)!

Now that history is managed, it's safe to say that Désiré would love to start a family one day. It doesn't matter to him how, though going the biological route, let it be known he's excellent at tending to pregnancy needs. He's a wonderful parent, generally gentle while supportive and encouraging, and is comfortable being stern when it's called for.

Vittore Simone

Sadly I can't get into the specifics of Vittore Simone's thoughts on kids and family without it becoming a spoiler. However, I can say that he vowed when he was young that he'd never have kids and has never thought of it since. Going forward, it would never be something that crossed his mind unless brought up by his partner and would be something he'd defensively refuse at first. Later, he'd come back with apologies and to have a more open conversation on the matter to express his reservations and fears.

Suffice to say that the idea of being a father absolutely terrifies him, and he has always taken great pains to avoid it ever happening. Even just the thought is enough to send him into panic attacks. His partner will need to be patient with him and accept that this is something he may genuinely never be able to do for the sake of his own health and any future child's. It would take a lot of time, reassurance, work, healing, support, and understanding before Vittore Simone ever agreed to give parenthood a shot. It will not be an easy road for him or his partner. It would likely be a road that never truly ends, and he'd need to be sure that they can both accept that without damaging their own relationship. He would try, though. He would do his damnedest. And, thankfully, there will never be any doubt that he genuinely does love his kid.

As a father, initially, he would constantly be terrified he was hurting his kid somehow. He would struggle with being overly permissive & overprotective at the same time. He's liable to have a panic attack any time the kid cries for the first several years. His partner will have to help him get through 'I'm a terrible father, this was a mistake' breakdowns periodically. Slowly, though, he'll build some confidence and be more comfortable interacting and expressing himself with his kid. He'll always be supportive, and he'll work his hardest to be sure his family knows he loves them unconditionally. His partner will have to accept the role of disciplinarian, though. That's never going to be something he'll be able to do on his own (but of course, he'll be there to support them in those conversations. He doesn't want to make them the 'bad guy' by any means).

Andrai

The other RO with child-rearing experience! Andrai has 15 younger siblings (yes, you heard me correctly) and absolutely adores them all. They're all grown now, but he loved taking care of them when they were little, and he still dotes on them whenever he can, in his own way. In general, he loves kids. He just thinks they're adorable. And, despite appearances, he's excellent with them. Kids love this man, they flock to him, and he has no problem with that. It confuses most onlookers.

The idea of starting his own family turns him to absolute mush. And, he'd love to, so so much. Adoption, biological, and surrogacy are okay with him. It would be up to his partner to limit exactly how many kids they have since Andrai would just say he wants them all. He makes an excellent dad, albeit quiet, and is unwaveringly supportive. He's comfortable with discipline and is the type to encourage self-assessing behavior. He's excellent at giving advice and genuinely just likes spending time with his kids and being involved in their lives.

He's probably not the one you would peg as the 'domestic bliss' type, but he absolutely is.

Vzridmi

She's very comfortable with kids since communal rearing is very common in ork communities, and she'd love to have a family one day. Some kids unused to orks might find her a bit intimidating just because of her size, but in general, children think she's fun to be around. She doesn't necessarily think about it too much, though, at this point in her life. It's not something she sees as being on the table for quite some time - she has research and exploration to be doing, after all.

Whenever she was ready to settle down for a family, she'd be comfortable with carrying a child herself, surrogacy, or adopting. She would really like to have at least one biological child if possible, though. She would make for an entertaining mother, excited about her child's life and ever-supportive of their interests and pursuits. She's comfortable with all the aspects of child-rearing. Still, She would definitely need her partner's advice if they ever discovered their kid was dealing with bullying. She'd need to be reminded by her partner not to be overprotective - she's not above threatening others with her war-hammer if they upset her baby.

[boop-le-snoot]

skin starving

tony stark x f!reader fluff. no warnings, just a few f-bombs. touch starved tony’s third person pov. words: 2,5k. no beta because i just really needed to get this off my chest.

recommended music to go with the story: two feet - 'love is a bitch' & 'quick musical doodles'. Or any lo-fi hip-hop radio really.

It started as an itch. At first, a small but bothersome thing, that kept him up at night, steering the already unreasonable hours of wakefulness into dangerous territory. The cold of his bed was unappealing and more often than not, he’d started passing out on the flat surfaces nearest to him: workshop, lab, common room couch, the lazy boy in Bruce’s apartment.

The team noticed, of course, they weren’t blind. They all had been on edge the first few months after Pepper left him. They expected him to act out, lock himself up in his lab or go back to his old habits of boozing and bringing home a different girl every night. And he had tried that, once or twice, but airheaded twenty-somethings weren’t appealing anymore. Most of the time their ass kissing and blatantly flattery annoyed him further into self-loathing abyss. He simply couldn’t step up to be the kind of man they described him to be - it seemed as if every woman on planet Earth had a whole list of expectations he specifically could not meet.

With Thor off planet, not one remaining person on the team was particularly touchy-feely. And that was the thing with Tony Stark: as an engineer, as a mechanic, he made his way through the world hands-first, every approach he had was hands-on. During late nights and early mornings, he laid in bed, sleepless and dreamless, desperately refusing to admit his own touch starvation.

Whenever Rogers threw an arm around his shoulders during a particularly successful team bonding activity, it took every ounce of willpower Tony had to not lean into it and purr like a cat. He hadn’t truly forgiven Steve for his cold, cruel words of criticism shortly after Pepper’s departing. He wasn’t going to chummy up to a man who thought him selfish, opportunistic and self-absorbed.

Tony became irritable and withdrawn. He simultaneously craved and avoided even the casual, friendlier attention his teammates gave him on a daily basis. His usual snark became that much more biting, having caused several people to storm out of team meetings.

On a cold autumn morning, Tony had found his way at the tower’s Starbucks on the employee floor. He had squeezed a generous five hours of restless sleep and he was sick of the plain black coffee in his kitchen. A spontaneous desire for something sweet and creamy and caffeinated led him to the place in line at the cafeteria, only a few early birds ahead of him.

Tony’s brain was hazy as it had been past few weeks, dull from the lack of rest and the hyperfixation of his own skin feeling alien to him. For once, he wasn’t typing away on his StarkPhone as he usually did to avoid being bothered; Tony stared straight ahead, unseeing, nothing but white noise in his usually racing brain.

Two women stood in front of him and he couldn’t help but overhear a part of their conversation.

“… Are you really horny or just lonely or touch-starved, though? I mean, Tinder? It’s not really your style.”

“Eh, I dunno. Probably the second but it’s not like men go on Tinder to find a cuddle buddy.”

“Well, maybe? I’ve heard about arrangements like that.”

“No offense, babe, but it’s probably kids in their early twenties. Those gen-z’s, babe, are weird. I’m not really up to date on all of that.”

The topic of the conversation was what piqued Tony’s interest; the world liked rubbing salt into his wounds and hysterically laugh at his misfortune. Bleary-eyed, he briefly scanned the two women: both appeared to be interns or junior techs in his company, evident by the purple employee badges hanging from their bags.

“So what are you going to do?” One woman asked the other as their turn to order took Tony one step closer to obtaining his desired caffeine.

“Unless someone normal magically appears with an offer of no-strings-attached, good ole’ snuggle fest, I guess I’m getting dicked down on Saturday,” The other replied with a teasing tone. The lack of excitement in the last part of the sentence was obvious.

“Gross,” The first one shook her head and hurriedly rattled off her order to the barista who looked about as disgruntled as Tony felt.

Hours and three coffees later, Tony’s overactive brain was still stuck on that woman from the cafeteria. Her back, her purse stuffed full of colorful manila folders, her neatly gathered hair - Tony Stark had nearly perfect memory and he remembered every single detail despite his brain fog. Objectively, she was attractive, no more no less than a different dozen of women he’d seen at any point in his life before. So why was he hung up on her?

It didn’t take him a long time to find her file, faster than he’d liked to admit. Manually sorting through hundreds of interns, lab technicians and various second-tier employees wasn’t exactly considered productive but with Pepper and her nagging out of the picture, Tony could afford to slack off a little bit.

So he found her name and her e-mail address, skimmed over her performance report with satisfaction, finding her to be a busy bee in the 90-th percentile. Her superiors considered her trustworthy, hard-working and communicative, all good traits.

Pepper’s absence meant he’d have no one to cover his ass should he get slapped with a harassment suit; however, he was the Tony Stark after all. He had more money that he’d cared to count and an army of lawyers at his disposal 24/7.

Amidst the jumbled mess of wires, circuit boards, tablets, empty coffee cups and the occasional piece of paper, Tony typed up an e-mail to the woman sharing his… Condition.

“I heard you and your friend talking at Starbucks. I could use a cuddle buddy. Wine and Netflix at my place? What’s your takeout preference?”

No. That came off way too creepy, like he was some kind of a dirty eavesdropper.

He contemplated some more, typing up and erasing multiple e-mails with various proposals: his penthouse, her place, a three Michelin star restaurant, a walk in the park. Almost all of it screamed ‘date’, like he’d drag her off to bed the very moment an opportunity wouldn’t present itself. It wasn’t so: Tony Stark, the playboy genius, had his dick firmly tucked into his pants. The thought of fucking her crossed his mind only briefly, quickly being chased away by the thought of her fingers running through his hair. Her warm, soft body in his arms. Just laying on his couch, eyes closed, reveling in each other’s arms.

Tony hit send on the least obnoxious option. He baited his breath, clicking his fingers in anticipation as the message showed itself to having been delivered.

“Mary, is this you trying to be funny? Stark is going to fire you if he finds out you’re impersonating him to stop your friend from going on a questionable date. Grow up.” Came the very prompt reply, ending with a short string of angry emojis. Tony could totally trust a person who used emojis unironically and generously.

“For the record, I wouldn’t be mad if somebody pretended to be me for the sake of saving their cute friend from a creep. The problem would be making it look credible.” Tony typed up the answer without thinking, quickly snapping a picture of himself holding the Starbucks cup with his name written on it, throwing his usual sloppy peace sign. He attached it to the email and hit send.

“WTF” Came the reply not a minute afterwards. He let it sink in, giving the woman some time to gather her wits. She did not disappoint. “Okay, even if we pretend this is real - which I doubt - what’s in it for you? If you heard our conversation, you surely know my stance on the matter.”

“I’m always glad to prove you wrong. I’m a genius - comes with the territory.” Tony simply couldn’t resist adding a generous dose of snark. “You’re welcome to meet me after clocking out. Use the private elevator, my AI will beam you up.”

The reply took a considerably long amount of time, seeing as previously, she typed back rather quickly. “Please don’t be a creepy rapist, Scotty. Fingers crossed.” Tony managed to almost break his stylus twice. His hands shook, and he had to tell himself to breathe - still, he laughed at the clever way she replied.

Several more hours later, during which Tony had nearly paced a hole through various floors on the residential side of the tower, he took a quick shower, dressed in a flattering but comfortable designer sweatpants and polo combo and made himself at home on the obscenely large living room sofa on his own, private penthouse floor.

He was up and running towards the elevator when Friday’s voice notified him of the woman entering the elevator on the employee floor. Tony tousled his hair, adjusted his glasses, fiddled with the drawstring of his pants.

The woman was wearing casual office wear, pants and a loose blouse, a lab coat loosely draped over her arm and her purse hanging off the shoulder on a thin strap. Her hair was loose now, a little frizzy as if she continuously ran her hands through it. Tony quietly rejoiced at not being the only nervous one.

Clever eyes scanned the room with unhurried interest before finally landing on him. “Not too shabby, if I say so myself,” The corners of her mouth tilted in an attempt at a smile, it was obvious she was studying him.

“Thanks, I try my best,” Tony smirked. Humble he was not. “So, how do you want to do this?”

“I see a comfortable couch,” She looked to be grateful for being given the opportunity to lead this interaction. “Let’s park our behinds on it, bicker for ten minutes about a movie choice and settle on one none of us really like. Then we can tell each other our no-no zones and, well, yeah,” She started out confidently. Probably practiced in the elevator. But towards the end, her shyness took over.

For Tony, it was kind of cute. A nice change from suck-ups that flocked him at every social gathering in hopes of getting something out of him. The woman that had tossed her bag carelessly on the far end of the couch and untucked her blouse looked and felt like the exact opposite of those people. She looked willing to give.

Tony sat next to her, keeping a couple of inches of free space between them. “Food preferences? Food allergies?” He asked, tapping the food delivery application.

“Nope, and I will eat just about anything.” He felt more than saw her side-eyeing him. Both of them were jittery. So uncharacteristic for Tony, to be blushing and stammering like a high school boy. Sex was easy, but intimacy? Complex. It was addictive and eventually, painful.

Movie decisions were surprisingly easy and she said so. They settled on a Tarantino classic, an old flick neither of them had watched in a long time. As the discussion progressed, Tony used his wits to find out more about her without making it seem like an interrogation. He had run a background check on the woman and her family but those only went that far, besides, it was a great opportunity to practice the tips Natasha had shared with him at one point or another. Being friends with spies had it’s perks.

They ate their food until their bellies were full. A comfortable, relaxing stupor, being warm from the inside out.

Tony noticed when the woman spoke, she spoke with her hands. She had caught herself grasping his forearm multiple times when they’d got more passionate about their discussion. And what Tony loved the most was that she refused to apologize. He saw a kindred soul in the woman; quiet until something struck her fancy. Then, she became a whirlwind of ideas and opinions.

In no time, it became a natural action to extend his arm and wrap it around her shoulders, reclining backwards. There was little grace in laying belly-up like a dead fish but the woman didn’t seem to mind. Watching him out of the corner of her eye, she laid down sideways, throwing a leg over one of his own.

Her palm traced the outline of his arc reactor when something on the screen caught her in a moment of intense interest. Tony preferred to avoid the cursed thing - scars around it definitely did not do any favour to his aging, marked body - but he found himself exhaling the tension when it was obvious the woman really did not care. An occasional quiet hum of satisfaction was the only noise that came from her: he noticed the sound escaped her lips every time his thumb began fiddling with the sleeve of her blouse and rubbed against her arm.

He was quite content. It was warm, he was surrounded by so much warmth.

The hug was mutual when she left home, both of them comfortable with the gesture for people who had met in a rather unconventional way.

She started coming over a couple of times a week, a quiet evening of the best takeout in NYC and (mostly) interesting movies. A solace, always a single e-mail away.

Tony saw her in the cafeteria once or twice; he appreciated the brief, tiny secretive grin she gave him out of her friend’s eyesight. She never approached him. He was grateful for that. He didn’t want to deal with all the drama and all the fuss surrounding incidents between him and his employees. It was nobody’s business what any of them did after clocking out - and him and his cuddle buddy, they weren’t even fucking, for Thor’s sake.

Maybe they would get there someday. Or maybe they won’t. It was only now for Tony. The rare free Saturday night he had, he truly took a vacation from all the bullshit and lured her in with promises of very expensive wine, her favourite New York style pizza and the willingness to entertain watching a few of those funny YouTube videos she liked.

They did watch them and Tony didn’t mind. He stepped over the irrational fear and the initial discomfort and curled up around her, hiding his face in the soft cotton of her worn hoodie, his own breath tickling his face in warm puffs. The hand running through his hair was tender like it never was with Pepper - his ex was far too preoccupied to baby her grown-up boyfriend. But the woman moulded to his body like an extension of himself was happy to do so. Tony’s hair was longer now and it glided perfectly along the woman’s palms.

His heart was steady, thumping in his ears, overshadowing the noises coming from the TV. He exhaled and felt her other hand begin tracing circles on his back, as if she saw the stress and the bitterness leave his body with every caress, every brush of their bodies. Maybe she did?

He held onto her, held her back like she’d held him. Safekeeping the warmth inside of him. Guarding his peace.

[murderousginger]

Cops and Robbers

Peaky Blinders story Chapter 1

Masterlist

Warnings: none. General fluff and sass.

Word count: 4,020

--- Note: I blame @blinder-secrets for her thirst photos and @imagine-that-100 for her general amazingness and telling me I have to write this. Enjoy. 😂 ---

You had been calling them your boys since you were 8. At seven, your mother had taken you to have a playdate with Ada while she talked to Polly about grown up business. Much to your mother's and Ada's dismay, you were much more interested in playing cops and robbers with the boys. 

At first, Tommy would only let you be the damsel in distress, because even back then Tommy made all the rules. You grew tired of being the damsel quickly, and had no problem voicing your opinions. 

"I could be a robber!" You insist, stamping your foot down one morning after church. 

"No you can't, robbers don't wear pretty dresses," John said, earning an elbow in his side from Arthur. 

"John's got you there, (Y/N)," Arthur said. "And why's you wanna play with us, anyhow? I bet Ada's got another doll for ya. Playing with boys is dirty work."

Tommy nods as Arthur puts John in a headlock and the mass of them get into a wrestling match.

"Robbers can wear fancy dresses if they steal them!" You exclaimed, jumping into the fray. 

Arthur let up on his grip on John once he realized you had joined the tousle and did his best to back away, but you gripped onto Tommy's shirt and went rolling on the grass, kicking and hitting until you rolled on top of him and pressed him into the dirt.

"Let me play, Tommy Shelby, or I'll tell everyone I won," you said. 

Arthur chuckled and John let out a loud laugh as Tommy's face went red.

"I only let you because you're Ada's friend and we're not supposed to hurt girls," Tommy huffed as he dumped you off of him. "If you want to play, fine, but you get to be a copper with Arthur."

"I want to be a robber!" You yelled, upset that you weren't getting your way.

"I have to be a robber, you see, because I'm too smart to be a copper," Tommy said, losing patience. "And I want John as my robber. So you get to be a copper. Maybe next time if you don't go crying to Pol."

And after that day, they were your boys. You played with them. You fought with them. And you loved them with the fierceness of your heart. They stopped Timmy McKee from bullying you at 11, and you helped them in little ways here and there, like helping Tommy get a note to a girl, or sneaking Arthur his favorite candy after he got in trouble for a fight, or even helping John with his homework a time or two. You even got Ada to join in the games a few times and became better acquainted with her. She became your confidante in things you weren't willing to tell the boys.

Your mother was unimpressed, voicing her worries to Polly about you being "boy crazy" at such a young age, but Polly just smiled and brushed her comments off.

"She's not boy crazy," Polly said before taking a drag of her cigarette. "She's power hungry. Dangerous ambition. I like that one."

Your mother had huffed but let you be, and stopped fighting it after a few choice words from Polly through the years. Your father shrugged and decided that if you wanted to adopt more brothers, you were allowed to do so. 

Polly quickly became Aunt Polly, and you became another rowdy body at the table, dirty feet and mouth wide.

The years went on and you stuck around, helping the boys with their mischief and gossiping with Ada about boys and the girls fawning over the Shelby boys. You were just as much a sister as their own blood, and they tormented you as such.

When they went off to the war, you decided to help with Finn and help run errands for Polly. With the men folk fighting, Polly was running the small illegal business Tommy had started, keeping contacts open and illegal activities flowing through Birmingham.

Before the boys returned, you had found a nice job in London working at the Sabini club. You filled drinks and kept your head down. The club was filled with drugs and debauchery but as long as you filled drinks and kept your mouth shut around the right people, you were a blessing. You were always on time and kept away from the extracurriculars that occupied and ruined many a barmaid before you. 

Sabini had gotten so fed up with barmaids being found unconscious or otherwise preoccupied with a gentleman in a dark corner that he made a rule that no one could drink on the clock. All drinks bought for the girls were to be given once their shift was over. Like drinks were the only problem. 

You kept in touch with Polly, asking about the family and letting her know how you were doing. The money from the club paid for a modest flat in Birmingham near your mum that you mostly visited when you had multiple days off and could find a ride. Otherwise you paid one of the other girls, Liza, a small fee to sleep on her couch. 

You knew the boys were back from the war, and that Tommy had reclaimed his business from Polly. You knew Tommy wanted to expand his presence and power, and his brothers were all too eager to help him along. You even knew that they must have been doing something right, because you could hear the whispers about "those Peaky Blinders" and "that gypsy Shelby family" all the way into London. You hadn't properly seen most of the family in years and yet people in Birmingham gave you respect you otherwise wouldn't have had. You talked to Polly here and there, checking in like, and you talked to Ada when you caught her. 

Ada was always busy, with her head in the clouds and a man after her heart. You left her to her daydreams and followed yours to the money that could fix almost anything. Money may not buy happiness but it helped with comforts, and that was as close as a girl like you could imagine you'd get to being happy.

The night at the club started like any other. You wore your flapper dress with gold and maroon and your matching maroon heels. You took drinks to the patron tables; quick to slink away with a smile before a hand wandered. You were getting surprisingly good at staying just out of reach and keeping a confident smile on your lips even when you wanted to hit a man with your tray.

There was never a scarcity of available girls or men, and so any wandering eye moved on rather quickly if they determined any amount of work was required. So if you smiled and slipped through the crowd confidently, you were safe from most wandering hands. 

As you went to put an order in at the bar, you noticed another set of girls gossiping while they waited on their drinks. 

"What's the news tonight, ladies?" You said, joining the two to make a circle. "A regular find a new victim? Sid skip out on his tab again?"

"How about those Blinders taking a seat in the middle of the club?" A brunette named Grace said. 

"Blinders?" You said, "In London? What are they doing here?"

"No one's asked," she giggled. "They haven't been served yet. Once Sabini finds out, I'm not sure they'll be walking out on their own two feet."

"Well then," you said with fake contemplation, "I guess I'll have to go see if I can get a tip before that happens." 

You winked at the girls as they gasped and giggled. 

"You wouldn't!" Grace said. "Oh you're so bad!"

You took your tray and with a wink and a smile you backed away from the girls and made your way to the middle of the room. You found three men sitting at a table, coats and hats still on, looking very uncomfortable as they watched the show around them. 

"John, stop gawking," Tommy's voice rumbled. "Arthur, calm down." 

You slipped past a woman sniffing drugs off of her hand and another man pressing a different girl against a nearby table as her hand inched toward his crotch. 

"If you missed me so much, you could have just asked Pol when I'd be back in Birmingham next," you said dryly. "What are you drinking before you start this fight?"

Arthur squinted at you before he tapped his hand on the table. 

"(Y/N)!" He exclaimed, "Why, I haven't seen you in years. You were just a kid."

"We all have to grow up sometime," you said, patting him on the shoulder. "Tommy, John, causing mischief as always?"

Tommy was frowning, looking at you closely, and John was frozen in his spot as you moved around the table. 

"What are you doing here, (Y/N)?" Tommy finally said. "Pol didn't mention you worked for Sabini." 

"She wouldn't have, though, would she Tommy?" John said. "Not unless there was good reason." 

"A girl's got to make a living," you said. "If you taught me anything, Tommy, you taught me nothing comes in the way of money or family." 

"Unless it is money or family," Tommy said. "How long have you been hiding in London?"

"About a year," you said. "Running for Pol introduced me to plenty of people, and Sabini liked that I keep my mouth shut when business comes through."

"Well then," Tommy said. "How about you get us all a round of whiskeys, and one for yourself, for this unexpected reunion?" 

"I can do that," you said evenly, "but my drink won't be able to be poured until I'm done for the night. House orders." 

"House orders?" Arthur murmured. "They got fucking in the aisles and snow in every corner but a barmaid can't get a drink?"

You shrug. John still hasn't stopped watching you, so you move closer to his side of the table.

"You're being awful quiet," you nudged, "that's not the John boy I know." 

"I can't tell if I see any of the (Y/N) I know," John said. "That dress doesn't look like anything I remember." 

His eyes move over your figure slowly, and you feel your eyebrow raise in defiance. You shimmy slightly as his eyes go from your hips to your heels. 

"Robbers can wear fancy dresses, if they steal them," you said with a smile. 

A wide smile spreads across John's face as he recognizes the statement. 

"So is that what you've been up to, (Y/N)," Tommy rumbled. "Have you been playing cops and robbers without us? Find better partners?"

"You'll always be my boys, Tommy," you said. "I think aunt Pol would tell you if I got myself tied to another wagon."

"Pol only told us not to bother you," Arthur said. "That you had your own life going and you were doing fine at it."

"Seeing as you're big enough to work for Sabini, you're big enough to answer for yourself," Tommy said, a spark in his blue eyes as he leaned his elbows on the table and lit a cigarette. "How about you come back home and be our robber again? You can barkeep at The Garrison and keep us company in the back. You'll make better than here. If Harry can't keep you, I'll pay you myself." 

"But I thought I was a copper, Tommy," you said playfully. His jaw ticked as you moved your dress to sparkle in the low light. "Remember?" 

"I'm starting to think you're too smart to be a copper, too, (Y/N)" Tommy said as he pressed his hands together and pointed at you, "but don't get a big head about it." 

"I might be amenable to that," you said, smile widening into a Cheshire grin. "Only girl to best Tommy Shelby might finally get recognition." 

Arthur chuckled, opening his arm to you. You walk over to him and he moved his hand to your waist and pats your hip as he looks over to Tommy. 

"I missed this one, Tom," he said. "Finally found a mouth that gives you a run for your money."

"That mouth still get you in trouble, yeah?" John said, leaning back in his chair and putting a leg on the table. "Hard to believe Sabini could muzzle you." 

"No one muzzles me, John boy," you said moving out of Arthur's reach as you point at John. "Is your dick still doing all your thinking?" 

John turned red and sat up as he started to scowl. Tommy and Arthur both chuckling low.

"Right, well, before too long I suspect we're going to get a visit from your boss," Tommy said, smacking the table for attention. "So you need to go quit. Don't fight me now, (Y/N), just go quit. Arthur and I have some business to attend, but John, you can take the car and take (Y/N) home in Birmingham. She's done in London. I'll talk to Harry in the morning and you can start tomorrow night. Don't," he waved at your dress, "wear that. Dress how you like, but not that."

You open your mouth to fight Tommy, only to see Sabini's men whispering in the back. You close your mouth and nod, gripping your tray. 

"Looks like you have less time than you thought. I'll be outside in ten minutes, John boy." 

You walk quickly back to the bar and find Liza, the girl you stay with, and let her know you won't be staying any longer. You say goodbye to a few of the girls and with a few hugs, you slip into the back to get your coat and bag. You stop at the bar and tell bartender Jack that you quit, deciding to let him tell whoever else needs to know. 

"I'm done, Jack," you said. "I'm going back home." 

Jack looks confused before getting angry and raising his hands. 

"But you're my best girl, (Y/N)!" He tells over the music as he throws glasses into the sink. "You're the only one that's not distracted by snow or dick."

"You'll find a new best girl, Jack" you say walking backwards toward the door before turning your back and walking away. "Get 'em off the snow and they're all your best girls!"

You shrug your coat on the rest of the way before looking around the exit and noticing three men surrounding the Shelby table and voices getting louder. 

"Now's not the time to test your fighting skills, (Y/N)," John said as he hooks arms with you and walks you out of the building at a dizzying pace. 

"What's the rush?" You asked, being towed along in your heels. 

"Tommy's about to take over," John said matter of fact-ly, ushering you toward a car parked near the front. 

"I'd get your door but you're not a girl," John teases, opening his own door and jumping in. 

You open the door and barely slide in before he's turned the car on and started moving forward. 

You jump as a loud crash comes from the club and the music stops. All you hear is Arthur yelling into the mic "by orders of the PEAKY FUCKING BLINDERS." 

John laughs as you slam your door shut and you take off into the night to return to Birmingham. 

As the club got farther away, John settled into his seat. He cleared his throat. 

"I didn't even ask if you needed to pick up anything…" he said, leaving the statement open.

"I don't have much at Liza's, and she can keep most of it," you said, planning your purse on the floorboards and opening your long coat. "Anything I'm missing too bad I can always write or come get."

"Hmm," John sounded. 

"Hmm," you mimicked back.

A silence filled the car. 

"Alright, John," you said as you took your coat off. "I'm still me. You're still you. It's been a few years, but for fucks sake, relax." 

John exhaled a chuckle before bumping your shoulder. 

"Still read me like a book, I see," he said. 

"Still haven't picked up a book, I see," you said as you bumped back. 

"I let Tommy do the thinking," John shot back. "Tommy's the brains, Arthur's the brawn…"

"And you use your Shelby blues to whore any girl that'll have you," you sang back, crinkling your nose, "I see things haven't changed."

"You have," John huffed back. "When did you become a girl?"

"I've always been a girl, John boy," you spat back, "you've just been too dumb to notice." 

John laughs and you lay your head on his shoulder, squeezing his arm. 

"Might've missed this," you whisper right before you let out a yawn. 

"Yeah? Well curl up there and take a nap," John said. "I'll get us home." 

"Okay, John boy," you said as you curled your legs up on the chair and leaned on him more. "I am a little sad I couldn't get that drink with my boys. Maybe tomorrow."

"Maybe," John sounded.

---

"(Y/N), wake up," John whispered as she gently shook you. "We made it back to the garage. I need to walk you home."

You whimper and try to dig yourself more into his shoulder, not wanting to wake. John chuckles and lightly taps your jaw.

"Rise and shine," he sung playfully.

"Why couldn't you have just driven me home?" You whine, finally moving off of his shoulder. 

"Because," John said and stepped out of the car. "Tommy's got a bottle of whiskey hidden in the garage. Thought you wanted that drink."

Your eyes shot open as you tried to wake up.

"Whiskey?" You murmured.

"Thought that would wake you," he said, pulling a half empty bottle from behind some things and shook it at you. 

"Just one," you said, trying not to rub your eyes and ruin your makeup. "One. Then home."

"Ohhh," John razzed. "Spoil sport. That's not my fun (Y/N)." 

"Last time Harry saw me I was a teen getting my da from the Garrison because he was too drunk to walk home by himself and mum was a mess," you said, getting out of the car with your bag and fixing your dress. "I'd prefer I be a little put together for my first day working for him."

"How is your da, speaking of?" John asked as he held the bottle out to tease you, "and your mum?"

"Passed," you said flatly, reaching for the bottle. John's smile faultered, letting the bottle dip into your hands. "Pa, at least. The war. Mum works at the washer. I help out." 

"I'm sorry to hear that," he said. 

You shrug, taking the cap off the bottle. 

"We all lost something in the war," you said before taking a long drag from the bottle. 

"You're still as wild as ever," John said, nudging the bottle up until whiskey splashed down your chin. You gulped and lowered the bottle quickly as you dabbed the whiskey with your wrist.

"And you're still as much trouble," you said, licking the whiskey from your lips. 

John tilted his head, watching you closely for a moment in the dark garage. You watched him back, eyebrow quirked in a question. He squinted before taking a step forward and reached out to wipe a bead of whiskey from your chin and put his finger in his mouth. 

"Only as much trouble as you're willin'," he said in a low tone before taking the bottle from you and taking a big swig himself. 

"John boy," you said, taking the bottle back for another swig. "What are you doing? I know all your tricks. I helped you make a few of them."

"Thought you said you just wanted one drink," he taunted back, a boyish grin spreading across his face in triumph.

You take a deep drink and hum as you hand it back to him, watching him take one last drink before putting the cap back on and setting it on the ground near the car. 

"I need to be drunk if you're going to try me," you said smiling as you walk backward out of the garage, motioning for John to walk you home. 

"So's you're giving me a chance," John said as he tried to keep a serious face before laughing and looking down. 

He kicked a rock at his feet before looking back up at you. You raised your hand, beckoning him to come to you. Every step he moved forward, you stepped back, grin widening as you let out a giggle. 

"How about this," you said, a finger raised to stop him as you stepped out of your maroon heels. "Take your boots off. We do this as we've done before. First to the street wins."

"Wins what?" John asked, already leaning down to untie his boots. 

You pick up your heels to place them in your bag and realize you left your coat in the car as a breeze outside of the garage makes you shiver. 

"Wins the choice of if you get to kiss me goodnight or not," you said, watching John's eyes light up as he struts to your side with his boots in hand. 

He gives the slightest nod and you're already running down the gravel driveway, laughing far too loud in the dead of night, but you don't care because John is right behind you laughing just as loud. 

You both race on the gravel, too busy laughing to complain about the pain. You can hear him right behind you as you feel a warm hand circle your waist and pick you up, spinning you around so he's the first to the road. 

"No fair!" You shriek, kicking and twisting in his arms.

"You didn't give any rules!" He laughs back, putting you down once both of his feet are flatly on the road. You pout as John sets you down on the gravel, a big smile on his face. 

"I win," he said in the cocky tone you've heard him use on so many girls before. 

"You cheated," you retorted.

"You expected more from a Shelby?" He said, eyebrow cocked as he mocked you. 

"Shut up and take me home," you said, defeated. 

John laughed and took off his coat, encircling you in the smell of tobacco and warmth. He held his arm out for you to take and begin your walk down to your home. 

"I'm just a few down from mum," you said. 

"Why don't you live with her?" He asked, chewing on his lip.

"After I started taking more jobs with Pol, she decided what I was doing wasn't 'lady-like' and would hurt my chances at a husband. Said I couldn't live under her roof if I wanted to work like a man, so aunt Pol found me a spot down the road." 

"Yer mum can be a right bitch," John said, causing you to laugh. 

"You don't know the half of it," you say, squeezing his arm. 

"We all turned out alright," he said. 

"We did," you agreed. 

You walk in comfortable silence until you get to your doorstep. You let go of his arm and go to give him his coat but he stops you. 

"I'll get it 'morrow," he said, shuffling his feet. "Gotta get yours back, anyway." 

You nod, not sure what to do. You fumble your bag, reaching for your keys. John clears his throat, stepping forward.

"I think I won a choice earlier," he said, nose to nose with you. 

"You did," you said breathlessly. John smirks, looking you in the eye before licking his lips and looking at yours. He leans in and you freeze to the spot as his lips barely graze yours.

"Goodnight, (Y/N)," John whispered against your lips, raising every hair on your body. 

John turned around, shit-eating grin on his face as he trudged back to the house. You exhale, frustrated. 

"Goodnight John!" You yelled. 

All you hear is his deep chuckle somewhere in the dark.

[writing-fool]

mlqc | talk to me, baby

This is a short, straightforward love language analysis. It’s mostly for me to remember what they are and how to portray the boys, but if you disagree or want to add something to the characterisation, I’d love to hear it. I’ve elaborated on Lucien’s before, but I’m doing it again because he’s my darling. If you read my previous post...it’s two in the morning for me when this is posted so technically this counts as the next day...right?

As always, enjoy reading!

Love,

R.

Victor

giving: acts of service

receiving: quality time

I’m pleasantly surprised I don’t have to put ‘receiving gifts’ as a primary love language for our very favourite capitalist. As seen in the ASMRs and a recent CN server karma, Victor takes care of you a lot. He’s not honest with his words and often comes off as a bit strict and harsh. However, he shows how much he cares about you by making you your favourite pudding, though his gentle hands moving through your hair with the brush and by carrying you to bed when you get tired. He does get protective, so that’s another reason he does things for you. But honestly, we all knew he worships the ground you walk on.

On the other hand, Victor knows how precious time can be, and values every single moment he gets to spend with you. The fact that you decide to stay even after his harsh scolding and all the tough challenges he puts you through, means a lot to him. Victor is completely at peace when you two are in the same room, working together in each other’s presence. It’s nothing special, but you giving him the time of day is already a blessing.

Lucien (slight spoiler!)

giving: physical touch

receiving: physical touch

I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again: Lucien is a whore (for your touch). I’m partially kidding, but physical touch as a love language kind of goes both ways. Lucien has learnt through Black Swan to never do things without intention, without purpose. He did things for you so you’d trust him, he seduced you with sweet words and flowers, he spent time with you to fulfill his mission. All of it was a tad tainted. 

But touching you on your shoulder, kissing your lips, hugging you, holding your hand. None of that had to be done for a mission. If anything, those touches were the only autonomy he had to show you his actual feelings, even when you didn’t know the difference between his real feelings and the facade he put on for Black Swan.

On the other hand, your touches are a sign of permanence to Lucien. Besides giving him the gift of colour, they also remind him that he’s a human being. He grounds himself through your touch. Your touch is a sign that he is worthy of love, of you, even when he’s done some questionable things, and it baffles him every day.

Gavin

giving: acts of service

receiving: words of affirmation

Gavin actively seeks you out and helps you with ANYTHING. He’ll carry your groceries, make you tea, help you with a show, save you from danger (or an uneven stone on the street). He knows how important it is to be there for a person, and he’ll never let you face danger alone again. Gavin lost his chance to profess his love to you back in high school, and he’s damn well not losing it again. All his thoughtful actions are signs that he’s grown up into a reliable man, and they show you that he’s capable enough to take care of you. Forever. 

Gavin never grew up in a loving, caring family, which means he didn’t ever hear compliments in his youth. It seems like he doesn’t care about your little compliments, but when you praise him, his cheeks flare up and his heart beats just a little faster. He strives to be a better man every day, and your words of encouragement push him to work harder.

Kiro

giving: receiving gifts

receiving: quality time (+ words of affirmation)

As shown in the Cape Holiday event, Kiro’s that one person who likes giving gifts to his loved ones. He gives you souvenirs from his travels, but also isn’t afraid to gift you something simple, like a plushy or a shirt. Why? Because he wants you to think of him. Kiro’s a little selfish in the way that he wants your environment to be so filled with his things...that you can’t help but think of him every second of the day. After all, Miss Chips, it’s revenge for making him think of you all the time...

I’d say Kiro likes you to go out of your way to spend time with him. You’re both incredibly busy people, but you planning a hotpot date or a fun fair visit with him fills him with glee. Actually, he even likes playing video games with you at home. Sometimes when he’s abroad, Kiro gets a little love-deprived and will become sulky. For those moments, a phone call is all he needs to fire him up again. He’ll work even harder to make sure his biggest fan is proud of him.

Shaw

giving: quality time

receiving: acts of service

Shaw barely ever shows it, but the reason he takes you around town so often is not simply because he’s bored. He enjoys spending time with you, even if he doesn’t show it. You’re the only person he’d ever want to roam the streets with.

This troublemaker knows nothing about love, so he probably won’t recognise the feeling for a while. He’ll tease you and find out that he treasures and remembers every little expression you make. In the time that follows, he’ll make sure to uncover all of your interesting expressions.

Another new thing for him is acts of service! I thought of appointing words of affirmation to him, but in fact, he’s the type of person to disregard compliments most of the time. He’s confident, cocky, and he knows that he’s hot. In clubs, many people try hitting him up with shallow compliments and flirty looks. So most of the time, unless you compliment him on something more profound, he brushes off compliments. Going the extra mile for him to, say, take care of him when he’s sick though? This man does not know how to handle the situation (I do feel bad for the brothers, honestly), but he’ll grow close too you far faster than you’d ever anticipate. 

[earthstellar]

More TFP Deep Thinking: Transformers and Road Safety

So, we have two episodes in TFP that touch on road safety concerns in regards to humans using/driving/riding in sentient vehicles: 

Road Safety Themed Episode Summaries: 

1) Speed Metal - Jack gets into street racing to beat a bully. Arcee initially enables it, Bumblebee does later after Jack and Miko both pressure him into it. 

This ends badly, with the bully being injured and needing to be rescued after being knocked out by Knock Out. 

2) Legacy - Smokescreen fails to care for human road rules in any way despite Jack trying his best to teach him how to drive on Earth; Because Jack is a teenager, he gives in to Smokescreen’s peer pressure and screws around after the bully returns. 

Smokescreen then gets called out for a mission, but not caring about human safety (probably due to an inability to internalise or appreciate just how dangerous this whole situation is for humans in general), he brings Jack along and it doesn’t go well. 

This is a long post, so I am putting it below a cut to spare everyone having to scroll for a mile: 

General Concerns About Sentient Vehicles in Practice: 

Because this is a kid’s show, ostensibly anyway, the bully is mostly fine at the end of Speed Metal, and Legacy depicts dangerous driving in a way that a young audience can internalise as “oh, that’s bad” as the episode ends with Arcee being furious with both Jack and Smokescreen. 

But they raise some pretty good points about just how dangerous the entire concept of being in a sentient vehicle actually is. 

I’m only going to focus on two main points here to prevent this from being the world’s longest post ever, but I do want to talk about them because they are common Transformers media themes and I think it’s interesting to think about the ramifications of some of this stuff in-universe as well as from a more realistic point of view. 

The Humans Involved are Mostly Children and Teenagers

All of the humans involved in these episodes are children/teens, which adds a new level of horror to all of us who are watching it as adults. 

I used to work in education and social care for at-risk youth, and we did actually have some cases of kids getting hurt in reckless driving/illegal driving situations, so I’m naturally a little more sensitive to this whole topic altogether. 

We do see Fowler and June get thrown around a bit, but I’m going to focus on the kids, because doing this kind of shit with children involved is inherently more dangerous and scary. 

1) Being children, they don’t have any driving experience. 

Jack does, but primarily/only on a motorcycle from what we see on the show as far as I remember, and even then, he’s a teenager in high school and we can assume he hasn’t been driving for very long overall. 

So to kids/young people, who are overwhelmingly more familiar and comfortable with being passengers rather than drivers (even Jack only has probably a couple years of driving experience due to his age regardless of how much confidence he has behind the wheel), the idea of being in an uncontrollable vehicle able to do whatever it wants with you inside of it is sort of a nightmare! 

When something goes wrong and you lose control of your car in real life, it’s scary as hell even with years of experience driving. 

For example, when hitting ice on the road, your car starts to spin out or starts drifting, there’s no traction, and you have to get your shit together quickly. 

I have experienced that several times myself, and it sucks. It is massively scary, every single time, and that is when you still have some modicum of control over your vehicle. 

Now imagine if your car instantly became totally uncontrollable and no input or activity you could possibly perform would resolve the dangerous situation, because your vehicle itself is the dangerous situation. 

Now imagine you are also a child with zero driving experience, who implicitly trusted that your vehicle would drive safely and via the intended route, suddenly thrown into a situation where shit has changed and the vehicle is now doing things that you cannot predict and cannot alter or prevent in any way. 

There’s no way they could ever touch on this seriously in TFP or any other Transformers media because it has potential to be genuinely frightening to the target young audience demographic if depicted in certain ways, and it would sort of be show-breaking because of the potential impact of that kind of fear on the human characters within the show (at the very least). 

But this shit is scary, and even moreso for young kids. I was in a pretty terrifying couple of car/road incidents as a kid, and I remember the feeling of being completely shit scared while the windows cracked and shattered, the muffler was ripped out of the bottom of the car, and we were pinned between two big rigs (cargo and oil tanker) on the highway at 65 MPH at night. 

I can’t help but think of the TFP kids being put in a situation where they’re all driving convoy style away from Decepticons for whatever reason, and while they are in their respective guardian’s alt-modes, they get shoved up against Optimus at high speed... 

I’m telling you, it’s a trauma factory. 

2)  A Transformer could just decide to do anything. Whenever. 

This is obvious, but let me break it down in more detail: 

A particularly unsettling moment in Speed Metal is when Jack is riding on Arcee, and they pull up to a light-- And Jack’s school bully makes some snide comments which set off Arcee, so she peels out at high speed from what looks to be a four way intersection. 

It’s worth noting that Jack is more level headed than Arcee about it here, for the most part. He even questions her actions, calling her out for violating her own road safety rules. She disregards him, saying “just this once”. YIKES. 

I’d like to point out that she does some seriously dangerous high speed manoeuvres in that scene, including a left side overtake while accelerating to attempt to mitigate wheel skipping and any lost speed from lateral drag that puts Jack inches in front of a high speed car: 

Now, arguably, if need be she could have transformed and prevented any major collision/injury, but keep in mind the bully is a civilian and having to remain secret is a consideration; Any hesitation here could result in casualties, and that concern may well cause hesitation in deciding to transform or not. 

And on top of that, is putting Jack in this position in the first place a good idea, even knowing a Transformer is extremely likely to out perform a human vehicle even without transforming? Hell no, and here’s why: 

He is riding Arcee like any other motorcycle; He’s just holding on and hoping for the best at this point in the street race. 

He could easily fall and roll off, because he’s not able to tilt his weight into any of the turns or effectively prepare for anything Arcee is doing. Look at the angle in that one screenshot above; Jack’s doing a hell of a job just trying to stay seated, and the sudden strain on his left leg/hip has to be pretty uncomfortable. 

Motorcycles do not have seatbelts, unless they are specialty gear, and even if Arcee’s alt-mode does have some way to secure a rider, Jack absolutely did not have them engaged as this ride did not start out as a street race and I do not recall seeing anything that suggests Arcee has engaged any type of seatbelt or other additional rider safety measure here.

I’ve both ridden and driven motorcycles before, and the idea of doing so at high speed with an uncontrolled, unpredictable motorcycle (or driver if I am passenger) is frightening. There’s no way to know when to adjust your position/balance, grip, or anything. Jack isn’t manually controlling anything, his hands are off the controls on the handlebars because those are Arcee’s functions. 

So she just hauls off, high speed, and does extremely sharp weaving turns in close proximity to another high speed vehicle-- Because a human teenager was talking shit to them at a stoplight. 

It’s not responsible guardian behaviour, and this is somewhat called out in this episode and again more heavily in Legacy, but uh, there’s a lot of reckless Transformer driving with humans involved in this franchise in general, and this is a more blatantly unnecessary example.

And the thing is, Arcee is fairly serious and strict. She is a mature person and typically handles road safety well when it comes to Jack and the other children. Yet, she still ends up encouraging street racing. 

Cybertronians don’t typically fully seem to grasp humanity or our realistic limitations as a species, and while most of them do generally try their best to avoid problems or injuries of any humans they work with, there are plenty of situations and conversations throughout all Transformers media that sort of emphasises as a running theme that they really don’t 100% internalise that yes, this shit is wildly dangerous for humans. Like, all of it.

Arcee was doing manoeuvres that I’m sure she could recover from if they went poorly. But could Jack? No, and she wasn’t fully considering that in this moment.

Unfortunately, although Arcee handwaves it as “just this once”, it only takes once for this to result in serious injury or death. A dumbass teenager managed to goad her into risking Jack’s safety for the sake of beating said dumbass teenager.

Even the most mature and strict Cybertronians are prone to screwing around now and then. 

The more familiar they are with humans, the more lax they generally seem to get about keeping an eye on measuring out what they do in accordance to human tolerances and limitations. 

We sometimes see this in reverse, which is kind of how this is handled in TFP; After this episode, in Legacy, she digs into Jack and Smokescreen brutally. So at least she learned something. 

But Cybertronians are people, and they are still people in alt-mode, and no person is ever perfect.

Sometimes, your giant space robot guardian is going to turn into a car, let you get in, and then ten minutes later you are going at brutal speeds barely missing instant death every other second because another space robot called them a weenie or something.

Everyone gets mad sometimes, and does dumb shit. The thing is, “just this once” is not acceptable when driving with a much more delicate human. 

The same thing applies in real life; No adult worth shit would ever risk driving dangerously with a younger person in/on the vehicle with them. 

But people are people, and people still do dumb shit sometimes. And sometimes that dumb shit has a body count. It is unfortunately human, and apparently Cybertronian, nature. 

Conclusion!

I’m leaving this as it is for now because I have to get ready for work. lmao

I had other stuff I also wanted to say/touch on here, but I write a lot and I know nobody wants to read a million pages about this. (Although if you do, tell me, because I absolutely could do that write up.) 

If you read all of this, thank you! 

[americasass81]

Make Her Mine - Chapter Two

Tony Stark x Reader Warnings: Dark!Tony, mostly just mild swearing and stalker behavior here.

A/N:- Also re-editing this chapter from original female character to reader. 

Word count: 2000 approx.

Letting yourself into your room, you locked the door behind you before heading towards the bedroom.  Sitting on the bed, your accountant's brain began to work through your survival plan for the next seven days.  You knew a week wasn't a long time, but since credit cards could be tracked, you knew that cash was the only safe way to stay under the radar and you were now woefully low on that.  You also figured your sister might be the first port of call for tracking you down, so that left your best friend.

Calling Sabrina, you gave her a very brief account of your predicament and that if she was willing to help, she really only had until about four o'clock to get what was needed from your apartment.  Being better to you than your own sister, you told her where to find your getaway bag and also asked for some basic workout gear, figuring you didn't need anything fancy to outrun an Avenger.  Then you told her where to find you and the name you were using before hanging up to wait for her arrival.

One hour later, a text message told you she was outside your room, and upon opening the door you checked to make sure no one else was there before you pulled her inside and locked the door again.

Dropping your bags, she pulled you in for a warm hug before stepping back to give you the once over.  "Angel, what exactly is going on and why do you look like crap?" she asked, taking your hand and leading you to the nearest couch.

Sighing heavily as you sat down, you stared at your hands before speaking.  "Do you remember the reservation I had Monday night for La Scala?"

"Is that the Italian place you've been going on about for the last three months?"

"Yes.  Well it turns out that when they were switching over reservation books, they lost my booking and the best they could offer me was a seat at the bar until a table became available.  Obviously I was fine with that, until I drew the attention of Tony Stark and had to turn down his offer to join him."

"Wait, are you telling me you said no to THE Tony Stark?  The same Tony Stark who probably doesn't even know the meaning of that word."

"Exactly, and whether or not he knows the meaning of it, he definitely doesn't like hearing it.  Apparently he's had Happy Hogan trying to find me since then, which was made kinda redundant when my boss sent me to deliver reports to one of his meetings this morning."

"Well damn, Y/F/N, that must have been some shock.  What happened, if you don't mind me asking?"

"No, it's fine.  I mean you have a right to know, since I may or may not have put you in harm's way."

"You what now?"

"Look, I think it's safe to say that Tony Stark is not the hero he appears to be and I think I may have pissed him off a lot more than I should have."

"Y/F/N, what did you do?"

"I barely gave him any information when he questioned me before the meeting, and when he had me threatened and brought to his office afterwards, I said I'd report him to Human Resources."

"Wow, you never do things by half, do you?  But that doesn't explain why you're hiding out here or why you think I might be in danger?"

Refusing to look at your best friend, you took some deep breaths before continuing.  "Well because when a meeting with Steve Rogers interrupted us, he told me to go back to work and then wait for Happy to drive me to his place afterwards.  Obviously I didn't do that and I don't know if he's willing to let this go.  If not, I don't know who he's willing to hurt to get to me."

"Fuck Y/F/N, all this because his ego couldn't handle the word no."

"I know right.  I'm so sorry for putting you in the middle of all this, but I didn't know who else to trust.  I love my sister, but you and I both know she'd sell me out in a heartbeat."

Wrapping her arms around you once more, Sabrina held you tight as she thought through the situation.  "You know Y/F/N, this situation might not be as dire as you think.  Considering who my husband is, do we really believe that Tony Stark is willing to go up against New York's mob boss just to get to you?"

"I don't know, Sab, and that's the worst part.  I don't know what he's capable of.  I mean Happy threatened to have me arrested for stealing money from the company if I didn't go to his office.  You really think Sebastian can protect you?"

"Oh Angel, I know beyond a shadow of a doubt Seb won't let anything bad happen to me.  But what about you?  Should we see what he can do for you?"

"No Sabrina, you've done more than enough.  Hopefully I'm just overreacting and this will all blow over.  If not, then I have my getaway bag and more than enough cash to start over.  Your husband would be proud of me." you finish with a chuckle, hoping to ease the tension lines you could see appearing on her forehead.

The next hour was spent with a bottle of wine and some girly chit-chat until Sebastian texted Sabrina to let her know he was in the lobby.  Giving your best friend a smile and a hug, you said goodbye and decided to head for a relaxing bath, not knowing the shitstorm that was about to kick off at Stark Industries.

*************

No pun intended, but upon arriving at your desk ten minutes before clocking off time, Happy was not a happy camper.  After finding your desk empty, he made enquiries from Melinda who informed him that you weren't feeling well and had gone home early.  Deciding that it was best not to upset Tony unless absolutely necessary, he brought up your employee file and got a hold of your address.  Getting in the car and driving to your place, he was pissed to discover that it was locked tight and no one had seen you all day.  Swallowing his anger, he headed off to Tony's to relay this development and see if he really was serious about pursuing you.

Upon walking in, Tony told him to take you to the living room and he'd be right out.  However, on entering said room and seeing only Happy, Tony was full of questions.  "Happy, would you care to tell me what is wrong with this picture?"

"I know Tony, I can't explain it.  From what I've been told, shortly after you sent her back to work, she complained about not feeling well and no one has seen her since."

"No one?  Are you fucking kidding me?  Nobody just disappears without a trace.  F.R.I.D.A.Y. I want a trace put on all credit cards in the name of Stark Industries employee 2474789, back timed to two months ago.  I want to know where she's been and where she might go."

"Tony, don't you think all this might be a bit excessive over someone who clearly wants nothing to do with you?"

"You know I was kinda resigned to not knowing who she was, but my god, when she walked into that meeting room and I discovered that I've technically been supporting her for three years.  I can't explain it, Happy but she's awoken something in me.  F.R.I.D.A.Y. what's the status of recent activity?"

"Nothing Boss.  The last credit card purchase was Tuesday at the cafe in the lobby of Stark Industries.  Mint flavored hot chocolate with whipped cream, around lunch time."

"Damn, how does one disappear and go over twenty-four hours without financial support?"

"Um Tony, I don't want to state the obvious, but do you think she might be using cash?"

"Cash?  Seriously Happy, people still do that?"

"It would explain how she's getting by, while staying off F.R.I.D.A.Y.'s radar."

"Ingenious.  My little girl's a clever one, it seems.  Thanks Happy, but I think I can handle her from here.  You can show yourself out?  F.R.I.D.A.Y. pull up any footage you can for Y/F/N's apartment for the last forty-eight hours." Tony ordered, as he headed towards his lab.

Sitting at his workstation, Tony combed through all available footage from your apartment, starting from half an hour before he knew you left work.  Noticing nothing out of the ordinary, he was prepared to try some other approach when he saw a young woman exit your building carrying what appeared to be two black duffel bags.  Watching her deposit them into a black SUV, he waited to see if her face became visible.

"BINGO!  F.R.I.D.A.Y. freeze frame 17a and run facial recognition on that individual."

"Facial recognition scan identifies the young lady as Sabrina Stan.  Wife of Sebastian Stan.  Current head of the New York mob."

"New York mob connections, huh?  Well that could explain her ability to fly under the radar.  Still, let's try this without starting a war.  F.R.I.D.A.Y. I think it's time I stopped fooling around, run Miss Y/L/N through facial recognition and let me know the second you find her."

"Will do boss."  Fifteen minutes later, he heard a beep and looked up from his desk to see footage of you walking through the lobby of the famous Waldorf Astoria towards the elevators.

"Well I'll be damned, either my girl has expensive taste or her mob connections go deeper than a passing acquaintance.  F.R.I.D.A.Y. do a complete, deep data scan.  Cross reference everything to do with Y/F/N Y/L/N, the Waldorf Astoria and the New York Mob.  I need to know if I have to mobilize the Avengers."

Two hours later, having torn himself away from his pet project to play Iron-Man, Tony barely gave himself enough time to rehouse his nanoparticles armor before harassing his A.I.  “F.R.I.D.A.Y. do you have the results of that search?"

"Indeed Boss.  It appears the connection is nothing more than an acquaintance.  Mrs. Stan and Miss Y/L/N were both part of the same book club and writing group a year and a half ago.  It seems a friendship developed out of it."

Though it bugged him, all the bother you were putting him to, this new information coupled with you appearing to be somewhat of an introvert, gave him renewed confidence in his plan.  Having so far found you utterly fascinating, he knew that once he had you, he would make sure you never said no to him again.

[ksfnmoments]

~Friday Headcanons~

Today’s Topic: Skye (after the little blurb down below)

y’know what i miss? Posting headcanons, so what am I gonna do about it? FRIDAYYYYY

Still deciding whether or not to do it twice a week (Tuesdays), though knowing me that’ll probably happen. Either way, I love incorrect quotes but I genuinely miss headcanons and I have so many I want to write down that I just never know what else to do with. Since I got a lineup of quotes that are queued for every other day atm, I get so impatient on the days in between but I don’t want to keep going on daily posting sprees and then becoming nonexistent for like three weeks in between-

They’ll mostly be about Chapter 2 battle pass skins since they’re the ones I’m most comfortable writing about (especially 1-3 and 5, won’t include the marvel pals because i really don’t know crap about them lmao), but I’m open to requests on others and will definitely be writing out scenarios for groups! Only thing I won’t really do is ships since I generally just don’t play around with pairings, other than Jules and Fade.

Anyway, onto the headcanons! Today we’re starting with my favorite girl :)

Skye

Gonna go a bit into the backstory I have for her for any newcomers or anyone who doesn’t remember, basically her dad worked for A.L.T.E.R and her mom worked for E.G.O, but her mom was a double agent which was how her parents met. Long story short, someone from A.L.T.E.R found out and killed her mom, then started threatening Skye so her dad handed her off to someone and thus began her story. Skye was only two years old at this time.

She stayed at Camp Cod for four years, back before the loop it was a normal camp (the loop in my universe is a whole different timeline that i’ll have to explain at some point, but the basis is that C2 has been going on for about 10 years in my storyline, but the island existed like a normal place for at least 25 years beforehand.)

When she was six, she was handed off to another person away from Camp Cod due to a safety issue concerning the person who threatened her before she was sent there.

Skye picks things up fairly quickly and usually has an easier time adapting to situations. She takes this with pride and it’s one of the reasons she enjoys camping and adventuring so much. (Speaking of pride, happy pride month! ❤️)

At Camp Cod she was defo one of those kids who more or less says “I love you” to everyone she talked to more than once.

Before Midas took her in when she was eleven, she had four caretakers. Aside from her first at Camp Cod, the longest she stayed with one was two years (age 8-10). After the loop came around, she forgot the names of her first two.

Before she was ten, she had never been past the southern side of the island, or past Misty Meadows.

Weeping Woods is her favorite location and one of her places of comfort. If she really wants to be alone, she’ll go there.

She didn’t stay with Midas at first when he took her in, but with Journey (because Journey wouldn’t let him hear the end of it for literally bringing a child to a dangerous spy base).

Journey would take her to the mountains a lot and Skye absolutely loved it.

Journey taught Skye the basics of handling a grappler, needless to say the adventurer definitely had her gear of choice.

Midas decided to start teaching her tactical skills and stuff sometime after she turned 14. She had already been really interested in the whole agent thing for a while. About five or so months before C2S2, age 15, he officially activated her.

One of the first things she convinced him to let her do as an agent was travel as much as the island as she could, this first adventure being where she got most of the photos you found on her bulletin board. (photo source: reddit)

Her disappearing every so often for a couple days at a time quickly became a normal thing. At first though she’d just kinda leave while forgetting to tell anyone, until Midas got on to her about it so she made extra sure to tell him whenever she wanted to go off again.

One of these little expeditions was where she found her sword, on the hill to the right of The Grotto.

Her third caretaker (age 8-10) had a keyboard lying around and taught her how to play piano. Skye would practice at least every other day and learned a handful of songs.

One day Midas showed her around The Yacht for the first time when she was twelve. The whole tour was a bit of a blur to her, until she saw the piano. Being the little excitable ball of energy she was, she instantly ran over and started playing. She was rusty of course for not playing in a couple years but she remembered most of the things she learned before.

She organized a birthday party for Journey on The Yacht (Midas can’t say no to her at this point) and played Happy Birthday for her on the piano.

A month before C2S2 is when Midas decided to officially make her in charge of The Shark. She had help running the place of course for the first month by various agents and top henchmen, but the day the season started was the day she decided she was ready to handle it on her own.

She especially loved being at The Shark because of the piano; in between missions and patrols she would play it, and sometimes if she really wanted to play but was busy she’d do it in the middle of the night.

In between The Device’s aftermath and the move to The Fortilla, she’d play more often because she couldn’t find much else to do. It was one of the activities she used to cope with the despair GHOST faced after Midas’ and Jules’ supposed betrayal, before the flood took over The Shark for good (in The Tide Rises, The Shark doesn’t fully become the prison version. Only some aspects of it).

Skye loves motorboat rides. Her father took her on them around Rapid’s Rest and Camp Cod often and the exhilaration was something that stuck with her even after forgetting aspects of her past due to the loop.

She absolutely hates seeing others in a bad mood and always offers a shoulder to cry on or an ear to vent to. Always open about her feelings and encourages everyone to be as well.

On the other hand, she’s completely stubborn when she’s sick and tries as much as she can to not admit when it’s the case.

She always tries to see the best in people, unfortunately leading her to be a bit too trusting and naive. Upon becoming an agent, this has been one of her biggest flaws, and it even almost cost her her life after a certain incident (which I will post one day =>)

Unless it’s utterly life-threatening or harmful, can’t keep a secret to save her life. She has to tell it to someone (in this case Ollie doesn’t count) or else, in her words, she’ll literally die. Luckily for her, Fade’s the same way, so when he came along the two would confide to each other what they couldn’t tell to anyone else.

All in all, Skye is absolutely a kid at heart.

[alonelytinywriter]

Excuse Me?

Anonymous said to alonelytinywriter:

Can I have a Hawks x reader where she's in japan and she's homeless and she steals Hawks coffee outside a coffee shop and he just - "EXCUSE ME?"

Ooooooo, Darling, you better bet. I still don’t do readers, though, sadly. It just doesn’t flow well with my writing style and makes it where the stories just don’t sound . . . good? I hope you’ll forgive me! If you like what you read don’t forget to drop a big fat heart on this fic (Support your local fanfic writers!), and let me know what you’d like to see next.

Warnings: There be soft smut here. And Hawks actually being a soft guy, and some heavy language because OC is a 2 kool 4 skool. Very soft Hawks. Warm Hawks. Gentle ball of . . . feathers doesn’t sound as good. Lets be honest, this prompt got me feeling a certain kind of way, and I really just wanted some self indulgent comfort.

Soft Yandere! Takami Keigo (Hawks) / Original Female Character

Playlist - Hitohira No hanabina - Stereophony

Name: Sato Ichika ~ Birthday: April 21st ~ Age: 19 ~ Hair Color: Blue ~ Eye Color: Green ~ Gender: Female ~ Height 5’0’’ ~ Quirk: Specter ~ Occupation: Subway/Train Musician

Appearance ~ Ichika is a fairly short girl with a rather full physique despite her willowy appearance. She has dark blue hair that falls just below her collar bones and crystalline green eyes that point slightly outward, which seems to resemble a cats. Due to her Quirk, Ichika’s skin is ghostly pale, almost stark white; using her Quirk causes her skin to fade to transparent at her hands and feet, while her hair begins to float about her head and face as if she has her own personal breeze. ~ Ichika’s appearance has always been a bit of a sore spot for her, making her an outcast at an early age. After becoming a teenager she began to dress to suit her appearance, adopting a punk/grunge style with lots of fishnets, oversized sweaters, dark colors and darker makeup. Now she wears next to no makeup, unless you count chapstix, but she still dresses the same.

Quirk: Specter ~ As her name-sake suggests Ichika, when activating her Quirk, can float, as well as permeate any solid object. - It should be noted that while she can permeate through another living thing, the effort is nearly enough to make her pass out. - She also has the ability to manifest and maintain ghostly images that have been known for their ability to produce sound, though not their ability to interact with the corporal world, something which many thought as the hindrance which held Ichika from becoming a Hero. Ichika uses the ability to preform on the subways and trains to earn money throughout the days and nights. As mentioned before, while her Quirk is activated her hands and feet become transparent and her hair floats - the longer her Quirk is activated, the farther the transparency will travel up her limbs. This can be dangerous for Ichika, as it becomes harder to control her Quirk and once 100% transparency has been archived, Ichika has been known for blacking out and even attacking those she considers friends. Due to this, Ichika refuses to use her Quirk for longer than 1 hour at a time, at which time the transparency will only reach her elbows and knees.

Power - 2/5 ~ Speed - 2/5 ~ Technique - 5/5 ~ Intelligence - 3/5 ~ Cooperativeness - 3/5

~Excuse Me~

~ The first time Ichika stole she thought she was going to throw up. Or maybe that had been the fact that she hadn’t eaten anything in four days and only drank stagnant water from a broken fountain. It had been three rice balls shaped to resemble cat heads from a small grocery market and when she had walked through the doors after slipping the plastic wrapped food under her sweatshirt, she had been sure that the nearest employee would appear and scream THIEF into her face before calling for the police. She would go to jail or worse - go home to her parents and their cross expression as she turned out exactly the way they believed she would. But they didn’t. No alarms sounded, no one tried to drag her back into the market, no one seemed to notice at all. They had tasted amazing - even the one she dropped on the sidewalk and had to fish from the gravels - and the glow of victory had stolen over her like a living thing. Each stole item felt lighter in her fingers as she took them, her natural dexterity and knack for misdirection making her a perfect pickpocket. The fact she could use her Quirk to preform on the train - simple musical sets as she danced and allowed her ‘Ghosts’ to make the music - helped to distract the silly sheep around her and she danced and slipped past. Fingers found wallets, watches, an elderly woman’s bracelet, a single diamond hoop earring, a cup of coffee -

~ “Excuse me? What do you think you’re doing?”

~ Now. Now, Ichika knows she’s going to vomit. She can feel the bile churning in her stomach as she turns towards the voice - Gods above, why did it have to be his coffee? - and confidently meet the bright golden eyes of the Number Two Hero - Hawks. Of fucking course. Of course there was a Hero on the train. But she stamps down the rising horror and smiles brightly. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” But the Hero isn’t stupid and he snags her wrist before she can skip away, turning it so that the hand hold the large coffee showed the name scrawled across the front - HAWKS <3. Him turning her wrist does something worst, though. It rattles to hidden pocket in her sleeve and makes several of the stolen items to rattle to the floor of the train. A man to her left quickly recognizes his wallet at the top of the pile and frowns, looking for all the world as if he might attack Ichika at any moment for having dared stolen his belongings. 

~ “Shit.” Ichika activates her Quirk without thinking, her hair whipping about her face so quickly that it surprises the Hero into letting her go and she rushes to go above the others heads, straight up and through the roof of the train and into the sky above. Her heart is racing painfully against her chest as she slips through the metal as if it’s no more than water, thumping so quickly that she can feel the pulse beating against her sternum when she lays her hand there to calm herself. There was no way the Hero wouldn’t know what she had been doing. He would come looking for her soon, if he hadn’t already called for the train to stop. She needed to leave, and fast. It wasn’t the first time she had been caught in the act of taking what wasn’t hers, and normally it didn’t bother her to know that people knew what she did but there had been something in the Hero’s eyes as he stared at her in disbelief that set Ichika on edge.

~ She landed three miles away panting and covered in sweat from the effort of keeping her Quirk active for so long. Her vision was blurry, and she could feel the Earth swaying beneath her feet, rocking like a ship during a typhoon. She was still holding the damned coffee. Sighing, she allowed the transparency to fade from her skin, until she was whole again, until she was her again, and then she took a long draft from the coffee quickly cooling in her hand. It was intensely sweet, chocked with sugar and caramel until it reminded her of a milkshake instead of a coffee drink. Crinkling her nose at the intense taste of sugar on her tongue, Ichika forced herself to take another swallow before she started walking. She was only a few blocks from the grate that would lead her to the abandoned platform she used as a hideout, and she needed the energy to make it on foot since she had pushed her Quirk so far. Her heartbeat was still beating in her ears, a steady thwump thwump thwump . . . that didn’t match the beat of her heart at all.

~ This is all the time Ichika has before a dark shape hurtled from the sky above her, a laugh as dark and rich as honey sounding through the air. Hands clutched the back of her shirt and her feet her jerked out from beneath her as she was lifted forcefully into the sky. “Well, well, well, look what we found here.” Hawks voice is just as smooth as his laugh. “What do you think you’re doing, kid? Taking things from strangers is dangerous stuff, don’tcha think?” Ichika screamed, her Quirk flaring to life and sending her slipping from his grip. But it was too much. She had used her Quirk too much, since first thing that morning in fact, and the transparency had already been working well up towards her elbows and knees and she was too tired and she really hoped the Hero would at least take the time to make sure she didn’t die when she fell. Between one heartbeat and the next she slipped unconscious, her eyelashes fluttering to hide her sea-glass eyes and putting and end to the chaotic string of thoughts racing through her mind. 

~ She has no clue how long she’s been asleep, how long she floated in the inky darkness, but when she opens her eyes she finds a ceiling above her head that for certain wasn’t the ceiling of the abandoned subway station. And there, next to her, laying in the soft bed with nothing but a pair of boxers was Hawks. He wasn’t ugly - not by any means with his  smooth skin and thick hair and his muscles . . . But why had he taken her? She tried to scoot away but Hawks mumbled something in his sleep - something intellagable - and pulled her closer, forcing her front into his side.

Ichika jerked away so hard she fell from the bed, landing in a heap of blankets and sheets hard, making her cry out as her hip connected with the hard wooden floor. Hawks is up in an instant, looming over her, laughing softly. “What’s the matter, kid? Isn’t this a whole lot better than the place you where heading?” Hawks was already unwrapping her from the blankets and Ichika was trying to desperately separate herself from both them and him. She had to get away, get away, get way - why and the fuck was she in a bed with him and not in jail?? - but then Hawks hands are on her arms, hoisting her up, pulling her against his chest. “Don’t bother trying to use that Quirk of yours, kid. I’ve got a Quirk canceling cuff on your ankle, so you’re not going anywhere.” Ichika wants to speak, wants to ask exactly what the hell is going on, but he continues before she can. “I’ve been watching you for weeks, you know. Letting you get away with picking those peoples pockets. Watching you dance and trick your way into getting away with your loot, kid. It was hilarious watching you, knowing you thought no one knew. And you’re damn good, kid.” Ichika was shaking, pushing against his chest, trying to get away, but Hawks just held on tighter. “Awww, c’mon, kid. This is much better than a jail, isn’t it? I might have taken you, but I also made sure you didn’t turn into a pancake on the side of the road, you know?”

~ Ichika could barely remember her encounter with the winged Hero, and as her eyebrows furrowed, her sluggish memory trying to piece together what his words meant, Hawks wings curled around them both, encasing them in the soft red feathers. “It’s not so bad. I can feel your heart beating, you know? So hard, and fast against my chest. You don’t gotta worry, I’m not gonna make you do anything you don’t want to. I have plenty of time to make you change your mind.” His fingers where running across the skin of her back - she was only clad in her bra and panties - and he allowed his nails to drag across her spine, making her shiver. “But I can already tell you, I decided weeks ago I was gonna bring you home, kid. I knew I wanted you. I just had to wait till I could catch you and guess what, kid - I did!” He hugged her closer to his chest, his cheek resting against her hair. “And I’ll keep you here as long as I need for you to want me the same way I want you. See, not a lot of people know this, but I’ve been working both sides for a while. I’ve got enough saved we can go on a nice long hiatus and it won’t bother me a bit. Pus, I’m raking in loads of cash for all the wrong reasons, and I have all the time in the world to be able to shower you with enough affection and attention, and I can make you love me.”

~ Hawks voice was low and rough, like gravel and Ichika couldn’t stop shivering. She was still held against his chest, desperately trying to move herself off the Hero’s - Villain’s? - lap, but the more she moved the more pronounced Hawks attraction became for her. He was still talking, whispering dirty, senseless declarations of love and affection against her ear as his fingers continued to skim across her skin, but Ichika couldn’t seem to find her voice. She was in shock. What was going on?? what was going on?? What was going on?? What was -

~ “I’m sorry.” Hawks cooed into her ear, his beard scratching softly against the soft skin of her cheek before he forced her to look into his eyes. “Didn’t I make it clear enough? You’re mine now. You’ll be staying here with me, until the unforeseeable future, and you’ll be paying me back for that coffee you decided to steal this morning.” Ichika was already thrashing in his arms before he finished, and he allowed her to tire herself out, panting in his arms before he continued. “It won’t be that bad, kid. Look kid, I’m a mess, but I’ll take care of you. I’ll make sure you’re safe and feed and you have a roof over your head. And I won’t hand you over to the police. How does that sound?” Hawks sat there, waiting for her response, knowing that she didn’t have a choice. But for the moment he allowed her to mull over the supposed ‘choice’ he had given her.

~ Ichika’s mind was racing; she could fight - without her Quirk she would loose. She could play along and try to escape but what would she do? What would he do? He would go to the police, tell them everything, and then where would she be? In a jail cell, and there would be no one there to bail her out. Her body drooped as she came to her decision, every muscle in her body going lax as tears pooled at the corners of her eyes. Hawks nearly felt bad as he watched the girl deflate in his arms, and he nudged her cheek with his nose, a teasing smile spreading across his lips. “Maybe you should tell me your name?” It falls from her lips easily, and Hawks repeats it, rolling it across his tongue, enjoying the way it tasted in his mouth. He’s still saying it when his lips begin to brush across her neck, her hair falling across her shoulders like a waterfall. His nails dug into her skin as she shivered, the tears finally spilling. Her skin was so soft, her hair like silk between his fingers. There were freckles scattered across her body, freckles that shone against her skin like fragments of opal when Hawks laid her back on his bed, her bra discarded to the floor. His fingers dipped across her skin, her voice raise’s and falls in sync with Hawks movements, and by the end the blush spread across her cheeks matches Hawks face perfectly.

~ “You’re gonna stay here with me for now on, kid. No ifs, ands, or buts about it.”

[breanime]

Helpess (Part Eight)

This part’s a wee bit shorter (maybe 800-1000 words shorter) than the others have been, but I hope you like it!

*banner by @starkrobb​*

Billy was never the romantic type. He didn’t pine, didn’t lose himself in a pretty girl’s eyes, didn’t beg, but damn…

…You were making him want to.

He was watching you sleep—something he never imagined himself doing—and all he could think about was the last thing you’d said before you’d fallen asleep. Disappear. You were going to disappear on him—again.

“Don’t,” he had said back, his heart—of all things—speaking up before his brain could even get a grasp on what you just said, “Don’t.”

Shit had moved fast when he first met you; Billy went to picking up a pretty girl at a bar to burying himself inside of her for days on end. He never did that—he wasn’t a repeat offender, not unless there was something in it for him (intel, prestige—shit, even bragging rights were enough of a motivation for him). But with you… Man, Billy had just liked being around you from the get, had liked the ease of your relationship. It was just so… natural between the two of you, and he had never experienced that before. He liked it, as much as he tried to downplay it and pretend he didn’t; he did. He liked having you in his life.

But when he left, and came back to find you gone, things had slowed down to a crawl in his life.

He had still been busy—Anvil was just getting on its feet, he had paid his debt to Rawlins, he was his own man—but his life had just seemed so… slow without you in it. Which was ridiculous, given how little he’d known about you, and how little you knew about him. But it was true. And now that you were back in his life, shit was moving fast again. Except this time, he was determined to keep up with you.

He woke up before you, and Billy spent a good fifteen minutes arguing with himself over whether or not to wake you up. He wanted to be inside you, wanted to kiss you and caress you and hold you. He wanted—needed­—to make you stay with him, and the only way he knew how to do that was to convince you with his body, because he wasn’t at all confident that his words could do the trick. But he also wanted you to rest. You’d gone through so much so quickly—and he knew, from the moment you’d propositioned him for sex in the safe house, that you still hadn’t had the chance to properly mourn your brother. He could see it in your eyes, hear it in your voice, and feel it in your touch; you were hurting, and it killed him that there was nothing he could do to fix it for you. All the money and power and success he’d accumulated, and yet he still didn’t have the power to take your pain away.

Newly agitated, Billy decided to let you rest. He got up, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead—another thing he usually didn’t do that he easily did with you—and got dressed.

Frank was already up—not that Billy was surprised. He was drinking a cup of coffee (black, Billy knew), and staring at the monitors. He was watching a woman and two kids, and it took Billy a second to recognize them.

“That Micro’s family?” Billy asked, coming to stand beside his best friend.

Frank nodded. “They have no idea he’s alive,” he said, eyes still on the monitors, “They have no idea who I really am…”

“Ah…” Billy put his hands in his pockets. “They know you as Pete,” he guessed.

“Yeah.”

Billy moved, made himself a cup of coffee, and then came back to stand next to Frank again. The mom was fixing the kids breakfast while they sat at the table, and Billy wondered if that was how things were supposed to be. Frank’s childhood had been like that; Frank’s family had been like that. But Billy never had that. You did, though, for a little while. That was probably worse, Billy thought; having a family, parents who loved and cared for you, and then not having them. He’d never had that, and he was never let down by his foster parents because he had no expectations of them. But you did. And you’d gotten Joe Yakavetta, a man who used you as a tool, putting you in danger and painting a target on your back so he could get rich.

Billy was itching to kill him.

“You never told me about her,” Frank said, breaking Billy out of his thoughts.

Billy took a sip of his coffee. “There was nothing to tell. We were… a thing,” he explained, “and then we weren’t. I honestly didn’t think I’d ever see her again, but then…”

“Then this happened.” Frank nodded. “Small world.” He turned to Billy. “It’s almost like it’s—”

“—don’t say it,” Billy groaned.

“—Fate,” Frank finished, grinning.

“You know I don’t believe in that shit,” Billy said back, turning back to the screens, “You see me being helpless to something like fate? Nah,” he shook his head, “fuck that.”

“I dunno, man,” Frank went on, “only you would pick a girl who was raised by a crimelord and drives like Ghost Rider. And only you would be involved with a girl who happens to be on the shit list of the guy who’s pals with the guy on our shit list.” He swallowed a gulp of coffee. “Seems like fate to me.”

“Kiss my ass, Frankie,” Billy turned to Frank, “You get Madani to see sense?”

“About putting Rawlins and Yakavetta and whoever else gets in the way in the dirt?” He shook his head. “Nah.”

“Eh,” Billy shrugged, “she’s in for a rude awakening.”

“Yeah,” Frank agreed, “This gonna be a problem for you? Workin’ with her? I know things didn’t exactly end well between you two.”

Billy grimaced. Madani had been a fun distraction for a short while for him, but she was predictable. He’d seen her coming a mile away; he knew her type. Self-righteous and born with a silver spoon, a bleeding heart with a strict moral code and lack of life experience. He’d known she wanted something more than sex when she first approached him, but it took him a few days to figure out what. But he did. He always did, eventually. He didn’t mind her using him to get to Frank, he was using her right back, after all. She hadn’t been happy when she put two and two together, and she was really unhappy when she inevitably realized that Billy walked away with much more intel than she had by the end of it. “That ain’t the problem,” he said, “the problem is with Y/N.”

“Fuck Bill, I thought you aged out of love triangles.”

“I did,” he said, smirking despite himself, “but this isn’t that.” He took another sip of his coffee, frowning now as he thought about the way you’d asked Madani about your brother, the hurt and disappointment he’d heard in your monotone voice… “Madani treats Y/N like a pawn,” he explained, “Like she’s just a case, not a person. And if she keeps pulling this ‘pillar of justice, I’m here to protect you’ shit,” he shook his head, “I dunno if I can keep it together, Frankie.”

Frank laughed, and Billy looked at him, an eyebrow raised. “No, that’s… It’s cute,” Frank said, “It’s nice—seeing you like this over a girl. I never thought the Beaut…” He shook his head, lips on the rim of his mug. “Didn’t really know if you had it in you, but Maria did.” His eyes shimmered the way they always did when he was thinking of his wife—not the corpse, but his actual wife, when she was alive and vibrant and his perfect mate. “She said there’d be a girl who could get you like this. She knew.”

“Like what?”

“Like… this.” Frank gestured to all of Billy. “Man, we’re maybe hours away from killing Rawlins or dying trying, and you’re thinkin’ about Y/N. Not yourself, not what happens to Anvil if you die, not what kind of power you inherit if we kill Rawlins—you’re thinking of Y/N and how she’s been treated. I just…” He smiled, the look soft on his face. It made Billy think back on their days in the Marines, that look. When Frank smiled like that, he looked younger, lighter… “I want that for you. I really do.”

“Thanks,” Billy said, looking down into his coffee, “I… Fuck, man. I want that, too.” He looked up at Frank. “I want that with her, and I’m not even sure what the hell ‘that’ even is.”

Frank laughed. “Oh, man, I can help you out with that—it’s love, man. It’s fate,” he patted Billy on the shoulder as he walked past, “It’s letting yourself be helpless.”

It took you a minute to figure out where you were when you first woke up. But when you did, the first thing you did was reach out for Billy, but he was gone.

What else was new?

Sighing, you got up and got dressed, your muscles burning from last night’s activities. You and Billy had… You shook your head—there was no you and Billy. There was Billy, and there was you. And if things took a turn here, if Joe saw you coming and gave you the same treatment he’d given Ronnie… there wouldn’t even be a you anymore. But, in all honesty—you were fine with that. As long as you took Joe down with you, you’d be happy. You opened the door—

—and jumped. Billy was standing on the other side, one of his perfect eyebrows raised as he looked down at you.

“You hungry?” Was all he asked.

You followed him into the main room of the warehouse, and you sat down to breakfast—toast, eggs, and the strongest coffee you’d ever had—with Billy freaking Russo and the Punisher. It was weirdly nice, though, and you enjoyed watching the easy back and forth between the two men. Micro woke up next, and he plopped himself down next to you, much to Billy’s chagrin. For a few minutes, as you sat and talked with the guys, you forgot that you were on the run, you even forgot how hollow you were, and instead, you could pretend you were just having breakfast with your friends and… someone who was more than a friend to you.

Then Madani walked in, bringing the crushing weight of reality with her.

“I can deputize you,” she said as a greeting.

“The fuck does that mean?” Frank grumbled around a mouth full of eggs.

“It means give us temporary badges,” Billy answered for her, frowning, “It would make us temporary Homeland Security agents and her our boss.” He took a sip of his coffee. “It’s a joke, and she’s not authorized to do that anyway.”

Madani’s face scrunched up the way it did whenever Billy called her on her shit. “It would be retroactive,” she explained, “but it would allow you to bring Rawlins and Yakavetta in without—”

“Are you still on that?” Frank shook his head. “There’s no bringing them in, Madani—none of ‘em. At best, Rawlins is getting a bullet in his head, at worst, he goes slow—but either way, he goes.”

“That’s against the law, Castle—”

“You think I give a shit about the law?!” Frank boomed, standing up so quickly that his chair toppled to the floor. “My family’s dead, Madani! Micro’s a fucking ghost, Billy sold his soul—that’s all on Rawlins’ orders! He doesn’t get to walk away! He doesn’t get to rot in a jail cell. He rots in the grave,” his eyes were wide and wild, “and if you want to stop me, Madani, you better make sure your aim is good.”

“You’re gonna have to kill me, too,” Micro declared, standing up. When his chair didn’t fall, he kicked it to the floor.

She turned to Billy, who just continued drinking his coffee. Defeated, Madani turned her attention to you. “I can’t protect you from this,” she warned you, “If you join up with them and kill Rawlins—”

“To be honest,” you interrupted, “My chances of killing this Rawlins guy are pretty low. But Joe?” You shook your head. “If anyone but me kills him, I’m gonna be disappointed.”

She sighed, taking a step closer to you. “Y/N,” she tried again, “if you do this, I can’t grant you immunity. The robberies and heists and everything else—those I can get you immunity for, but murder?” She shook her head. “They’ll put you away for life. Can you imagine that? Four walls and a cement bench being your only privilege? No drag races, no chases,” she took another step, “No more roar of an engine or smell of gasoline. Is that what you want?” She was right in front of you now. “Is that what your brother would have wanted for you?”

Your response was immediate. “Ronnie’s dead. He doesn’t want anything anymore.”

“You can either get on board,” Frank said to Madani, “or get the hell out. We don’t have time for this.”

“I can’t let you—” she started.

“For fuck’s sake,” Billy groaned, whipping a gun out and pointing it at Madani as he stood up, “Let’s just make this easier, huh, Frankie?”

“Bill…” Frank said, frowning.

Madani pulled her gun out, too, and pointed it at Billy. “Put. Your. Weapon. Down, Russo.”

“Madani—” Frank tried.

“C’mon, Frankie,” Billy said, his eyes still on Madani, “We ain’t got time for this. Every second we waste on this same argument is time Rawlins and Yakavetta have to get away. I’m not lettin’ him disappear on us again.”

“She’s a cop, man!” Micro said, eyes wide. “We can’t—she’s—we—”

“Give the word, Frank,” Billy said, his tone even.

You looked at Frank. He seemed to be considering it, but he shook his head. “She’s just tryin’ to do her job, Bill.”

Billy clicked his tongue, clearly unhappy with the decision, but lowered his weapon.

Madani did the same. “I could have you arrested for that, Russo,” she hissed, “How are you gonna run your business from prison?”

“Can we get to the part where the cop leaves and we get on with this,” you drawled, still in your seat, “Because Billy’s right—we’re wasting time here. So, Agent Madani, you’re either with us, or against us. You can come with and try that divine justice thing out for the .5 seconds before we kill them, or you can fuck off and let us do what has to be done. Which is it?”

She tucked her gun away, sighing. “I’m coming with you,” she said, “because I… I owe you, Y/N. I’m want… I’m going to protect you.”

Billy was in front of her in a second, his dark eyes narrowed dangerously as he glared down at her. “I’m telling you right now,” he growled, “you do anything to get in the way here…”

“…She’s dead,” Frank said, stepping over to them and putting his hand on Billy’s shoulder, “she knows, Bill. Don’t you, Madani?”

She nodded, eyes on Billy. You couldn’t see his face, but you knew he was serious. Billy made an aggravated noise and moved away, sitting back at the table with you.

“Let’s get started, then,” he said, voice low.

For the next three and a half hours, the five of you sat at the table and planned out what was going to happen. By the time that it was over, you were ready to go.

“We got one hour before T-time,” Frank said, standing up, “Gear up.”

Madani turned to you, opening her mouth to speak, but was interrupted when Billy stood up, taking your wrist in his hand. “Come on,” was all he said as he dragged you back to your room.

Billy kicked the door shut behind him and turned to you. “I want you to stay here,” he started, “but,” he went on, his eyebrows raised, “I know you won’t. So I need you to at least make me a promise.”

“Okay…?”

“Promise me that you’ll listen to me when we’re out there,” he said, “Just… There’s gonna be a lot going on, and I need you to stay safe.”

“Aw, c’mon man,” you waved your hand in the air, “You’re gonna get paid either way; Homeland’s good for it.”

“I’m serious, Y/N. I need you to be safe, I can’t—” He stopped, taking a step back. “I just need you to be safe.”

Normally, you would have let Billy deflect. Hell, you were a grade-A deflector yourself, but considering the fact that you were only 59 minutes away from a possibly violent death, you figured you’d push. “Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why do you need me to be safe?” You asked. “You told me you took this job because it was personal to you, and I get that, I do, but… The job’s done, man. Homeland is compromised, and even if it wasn’t, Madani is gonna wash her hands of me after this, I know it. So why does it matter to you if I stay safe or not?”

“Because,” Billy answered, glaring, “it does.”

“Yeah, but why? You have your own fight with Rawlins, why are you worried about me?”

“Because.”

“Because what, Billy?” You glared up at him. “Because what? Tell me. Say it.”

“Because I fucking care about you,” he growled, grabbing you by the shoulders, “Jesus, Y/N, I was hypnotized by you from the moment I first saw you, and when we hooked up, I thought that would cure me, but it didn’t. Fuck,” he sighed, “You think I wanted this? To care about you like I do? Cause I didn’t—but I do, so here we are.”

“Billy…”

“And I know,” he went on, dropping his hands, “I know you want to disappear, and I… I get that, but…” He sighed. “Fuck… I don’t want you to.” His eyes were staring into yours, and you felt your chest tighten as you looked at him. “I’m not—I need you to be safe, regardless of what happens, but… If we survive this, I don’t want this to be the last time I see you.”

“So…” You licked your lips, unsure of what you were feeling, but knowing that it was distinctively related to Billy. “What… What do you want then?” You knew it was hard for Billy to be open like this with you, and you weren’t trying to push him (anymore), but you had to know. So much of your back and forth with Billy was unsaid, and you just… you needed things to be said. Just in case. You didn’t want to die not knowing what you meant to him—especially if you meant something to him.

He shrugged one shoulder. “You,” he answered, “I just want you.”

Once he said that, it was impossible for you to do anything but kiss him. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders and let yourself melt against him. Kissing Billy, being in his arms, made everything else fall to the wayside. “You want me?” You whispered against his lips. “You want me?”

“I want you,” he repeated, his tongue slipping into your mouth, “and I need you to stay glued to my side this whole time, alright?”

You wanted to argue, but how could you when he was kissing you like that, and his hands were on you? You couldn’t. So instead, you just kissed him back, trying to bring him closer.

He was smiling when you pulled back. “I need to hear it,” he said, his lips ghosting over you chin, “I need to hear that you’ll stay safe and listen to me out there…”

“I’m starting to think this whole ‘listen to me’ thing is some kind of secret kink…” You grinned.

He bit your neck, and you squealed. “Say it.”

“Okay, okay,” you giggled, “I’ll listen to you and stay as safe as I can.”

“As you can?” Billy titled his head to the side. “That the best you can do?”

“I dunno,” you purred, “Can you make me cum in less than an hour?”

Billy grinned.

Five minutes later, you were on your back with your pants around your ankles and your chest heaving. Billy was next to you, propping himself up on his elbow as he grinned down at you. “Any other requests?” He asked.

You shook your head, your body tingling from the force of the orgasm he’d given you—using only his fingers.

Chuckling, Billy leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to your lips. “Let’s get you dressed,” he said.

You let Billy dress you—again—and you smiled when he lifted you up and sat you up, propping your back on the pillow. You closed your eyes, still smiling, as he helped you into your shoes, feeling pampered, but frowned when you felt something heavy on your lap. You opened your eyes to see a bullet-proof vest. “Oh.”

“You need to wear that at all times,” he said, all-business.

You pouted.

Billy flicked his tongue out and licked his two fingers, chasing the taste of you.

You put the damn vest on.

Later, you, Billy, Frank, Micro, and Madani stood in the garage of the warehouse. Billy and Frank were armed to the teeth, you’d been given a gun, Micro had his… computers and stuff, and Madani had her guns. Your skin felt too tight; you were excited and anxious and scared and ready; you still had the taste of Billy’s lips on yours—you were ready to get this done.

“Micro’ll take the van,” Frank said, clarifying the plan for the benefit of no one, “Y/N, you’re driving the rest of us. We follow the plan,” he said, glancing over at Madani with a scowl, “and if we die…”

“…We die,” Billy finished for him. He looked down at you. “But we’re not gonna die.”

“Look at Russo, the optimistic!” Micro cheered.

“Alright,” you grinned, running your fingers across the hood, eager to be behind it, “Let’s fucking do this.” You looked over at Billy, a man who you’d met in a bar who was now the only person you had left in the world.

No matter what happened—you refused to be helpless. You wanted a life after this, wanted to work out whatever you were with Billy with Billy, wanted to be a permanent fixture in his life. But more than that—

—you wanted revenge. And if you had to die to get it, well…

…you’d die.

*******************************************************************************************

Ruh roh... things are about to get DARK. And action-packed! Let me know what you think of this chapter, please. Thanks for reading! 

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[katcadecascade]

Road to Home (RWBY fic)

Summery: Rhodes reaches the Glass Unicorn at 11:40pm because someone asked him, “So who’s at home for you?”

Tags: AU - Canon Divergence, Volume 8 Chapter 6

aka my take on Cinder’s backstory AU

-

“So who’s back home for you?”

Rhodes kind of hates his name. It’s almost like cruel irony or a bland destiny to always be traveling, constantly on the move, and never staying too long in one place.

“No one. I don’t really have a place to return too.”

He believed that’s just how his life is as a hunter of Grimm. It feels like he’s always taking one mission after the next, a pattern that takes him across the kingdoms. All alone, it’s easier that way, efficient Rhodes believes.

It’s a cold truth he concluded on after his team parted. Talk about a crossroads.

“Hmm.”

Yet every once in a while there’s a hunt that demands many hunters. An abnormally large nest of Nevermores in Vale. If he had the option, Rhodes wouldn’t have joined. The path he wanted to take is the one that’ll take him back to Atlas, all the way back to Cinder.

She’s a tough kid in a not so good situation. That’s all Rhodes can really say on the matter, what with the loose child labor laws and the old reputation that keeps that hotel running. Look, Rhodes ain’t the man for critiquing ethics and socialism, especially Atlas and Mantle of all places.

Still though, he did what he thought was best for Cinder. Train her in secret, visit monthly if possible, and not take her with him. The life of an active huntsman who’s constantly traveling is not ideal for a kid to tag along. At least in the Glass Unicorn, Cinder is under a roof and away from the Grimm.

Or at least that’s what Rhodes keeps telling himself.

Each day he’s away from the girl, he tries to come up with another reason as to why he should not just up and take Cinder with him. For obvious reasons, it’s kidnapping. Then there’s the whole issue of his entire life is not child friendly.

No home for Cinder to be warm in. No extended family that can keep an eye on her when he’s away. No teammates…

And yet last month's visit, there was hesitation on his tongue, wanting to ask if she wanted to accompany him. It’s an outrageous idea, tactless and unreasonable. Training her for the academy entrance exams is the smarter play, a long one but way smarter than just thrusting Cinder onto the road with him of all people.

Rhodes is not the most upstanding role model to look up to, no less having to travel with. Imagine his surprise when a kid looks at him with starry, wide eyes. He doesn’t deserve any of that, not sure if he ever will, yet he kept training her. He kept returning to Atlas for Cinder.

“What’s that humming supposed to mean?”

There’s not many people for Rhodes to return to, even less if anyone ever wanted him in the first place. Cinder is the exception though, his mind excuses. She doesn’t know the mistakes he made, the suffering or aftermath.

In due time, the academy would give her a better life, not him. Just gotta stay in this waiting game, for Cinder’s sake.

“It means that I think you’re lying.”

That’s a long road he’s forcing Cinder to walk. For the longest time, Rhodes believed that was the only course of action for Cinder when really it’s just the path of least resistance. All because he is a coward stuck in the crossroads.

“...Fine. There’s this kid I look out for, that’s all.”

All the excuses he accumulated began the moment he saw Cinder in that dusty storage room. Of course she’s miserable and of course he pities her. Rhodes wasn’t the strategist of his former team, nor was he the heart. He was just the tank, master of waiting for the perfect moment, and the one who ends up walking a long road all alone.

It’s stupid of him to think Cinder should endure it all alone. It’s collassily ignorant of him to give her attention and leave the next day and think that’s proper teaching. It’s akin to constantly relighting a candle wit. One day there will be nothing left to spark.

“That so? It sounds like you must care a lot about her. She must miss you too.”

It took too long for Rhodes to think that maybe his interference has made Cinder’s life worse. He gave her a direction, a goal to reach the academy, a dream of freedom on the open road. Hope can be a powerful and dangerous thing.

Rhodes knows first hand how devastating it can be when hope ends out. He can outlast a storm, a horde of Grimm, nearly anything but that’s no guarantee for the people around him. This always lingers in his head when he’s out on bigger missions with a group of hunters.

“She’s not mine.”

This particular Nevermore hunt had a few familiar faces for Rhodes, all of whom he’d avoided. Then by luck he was caught by some of the newer graduated hunters, probably with only three or five years of experience. Not the ideal team up but the less he complains the quicker they complete the objective.

If only that white hooded huntress wasn’t so talkative and observant. If only she didn’t dig into his vague words and made him think. If only he had learned all of this months early for Cinder’s sake.

“My boyfriend has a baby girl at home. I might not be her birth mother but I will always see her as my daughter.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

There’s a knowing glint in those silver eyes. “You look like you’re eager to return home.”

Rhodes couldn’t get that line out of his head. Eagerness is a burden on long trips, it’s the annoying sibling to waiting, and it’s the very thing on Cinder’s face whenever Rhodes enters the Glass Unicorn.

Eagerness is in his heart that first night after meeting Cinder. He wanted to return. He wanted to take less missions away. He wanted Cinder to finally leave that place.

Why did he insist on making her wait?

Each and every excuse he came up with nipped and lashed at his ankles on every step he took closer to Atlas. The Grimm hunt was dealt with at a near blinding speed and that huntress said she’ll cover for him on the post-hunt reports that he always hated.

For transportation to Atlas, Rhodes had to suck up his pride and call the only other teammate who’s not dead.

“You wouldn’t ask unless it’s an emergency, Rhodes. An airship will be at the airport in an hour.”

“Thank you Willow, I mean it.”

True to his former teammate’s words, the huntsman was later in a private Schnee jet enroute to Atlas. If he was more reckless he would’ve hand it land right at the Glass Unicorn but attention was the last thing he wanted.

Once on the streets, he was practically retracing his steps all the way back to the hotel. Through the late night streets, up the steps and through the fancy lobby. At the reception desk, perfectly orderly is the woman of the establishment.

Her wrinkle lines move along with her cordially smile, prepared for greeting clients no matter the late hour.

Rhodes never thought of this madame in good graces. Rumor has it that the Glass Unicorn didn’t always have child servants back when the lady’s late husband was in charge. Under new management as the saying goes and the regular clients here didn’t bat an eye when the staff dwindled to one young employee.

It’s hypocrisy that he was a part of the silent crowd and only now does he actually react.

On previous visits, he’d always just booked a room and waited for the lobby to empty to get to Cinder. Right now though, Rhodes doesn’t have the patience to wait any longer.

Once upon a time, he had to brainstorm a myriad of lies to get Cinder out of the hotel. Excuses that range from she’s a missing link in a case or outright threatening to her to hand over Cinder. Well he’s not entirely sure how any of those scenarios would play out but it doesn’t matter in the end.

The mood in the air changes when two blonde girls come running out of the staff door. They’re both frightened out of their perfect composure.  

“Mom, come quick, we found something.”

“It’s Cinder, she has a weapon!”

Their mother glares at her daughters and clicks her tongue once the sisters notice the client present.

“Leave,” she demands lowly, “now.”

The girls scamper off in another direction while the lady smooths down her skirt. One hand lingers inside the pocket.

“Pardon me, Huntsman Rhodes, I have to attend to the matter.”

She takes one step, one loud clack of her heels away from the reception desk and Rhodes knew that this was it. It had to be now or never.

“Wait,” Rhodes didn’t waste his movement, striding past the lady and blocking her path to the door. “It’ll be best if I go.”

Scowling as politely as possible, she argues, “Sir, I assure you that girl is absolutely under my control.”

“You’re awfully confident,” Rhodes snaps. This is taking too much time, who knows what’s Cinder doing right now.

“I am,” she raises her voice, not appreciating his attitude.

It looks like she’s about to lecture him about respect so he cuts her off. “I’m going in there, not you. Got it?”

He’s not sure what kind of expression he’s making. Yes he’s angry and impatient and just wants this whole hotel gone. Something about him must have conveyed his true rage because the madame stands frozen, confusion and fear in her slacken jaw and how she took a step back.

Then he sees how her eyes flicker to something behind him.

On some sort of instinct, she took her hand out of her pocket. Clasped there is a remote with a yellow button, her thumb pressed down.

There’s a scream in his ears, a chilling shock down his spine as he turns around and sees Cinder at the doorway. She dropped the sword he gifted her and has one hand on the frame to support her shaking body as electricity rumbles and bites at her neck.

Rhodes never thought to ask why she had a fancy necklace. He wonder how stupid he is for failing to recognise lightning dust. He’s even more of a failure to be surprised that this is happening.

To add more evidence that Cinder has spent far too long in this hotel, Cinder grits her teeth and lets go of the doorframe. She starts limping over, the shockwaves going up and down her skin. Rhodes watches in horror and perverse awe before he hears a button getting mashed.

He grabs the madame’s wrist, snatching the remote out of her hand in seconds, and crushing it in a steel hand. It’s pathetically small help, clearly everything Rhodes has trained Cinder for was not the help she really needed.

There’s a momentarily delay in the remote’s signal as the shock collar continues. Cinder reaches a shaky hand up and rips the collar off, glaring at the source of all her pain.

“Cinder,” Rhodes interferes with her path but the girl is still glaring at the madame. “Let’s leave right now. You don’t have to stay here any longer.” He knees down to her, desperately wishing that the fire in her eyes won’t burn her up. “I’m sorry it took me this long to get you out.”

She still hasn’t looked at him. Yet at his apology tears start welling up. Cinder marches past him, stalking up to the madame who’s backed up against the frontdesk.

“Without you, I am nothing,” Cinder tells her and her tone sounds odd to the huntsman, like the words are warped around her tongue and teeth.

She thrusts her hand up, still holding the shock collar, and harshly presses it to the madame’s throat. In mere seconds, the metal is superheated in Cinder’s grip and the madame cries out, jerking away and falling sideways on the desk and then falling to the floor.

The madame clasps a hand around her neck but Rhodes saw the burnt skin there, diamond shaped like the collar’s centerpiece.

“But because of you,” Cinder hisses and throws the collar at the madame’s face, “I am everything.”

The girl is a heaving mess, her hands curling up and steaming.

“Cinder,” he calls and the girl’s whole body flinches.

Swirling around, Cinder angrily demands at him, “She deserves so much worse!”

“And you deserve better and you will get it all if we leave right now.” Rhodes begs her, “Please, will you come with me?”

Cinder quietly gasps at his question. Some combination of awe and surprise on her young face as she starts crying more.

He honestly doesn’t know if he can talk her out of murder, revenge realisticly. But if he can just take her away from this place then maybe she’ll choose otherwise. Maybe she’ll always want to kill these people but for right now, he needs to physically get away from these people.

The heat of her semblance dims from her hands as Cinder wipes the tears off her cheeks. She stumbles over to Rhodes and once close he hugs her tight. The girl bawls into his chest and Rhodes wastes no time to securely carry her in one arm.

He remembers to pick up Cinder’s fallen sword as he gets up. The madame on the other hand is still on the floor, trembling and confused but not making any motion to stop them. There’s a frantic wheezing coming from her too.

When she glares at them, Rhodes frowns back. “No one is going to ask about tonight, got it?”

The madame bitterly coughs and manages to croak out, “Leave.”

He lets her have the final word and marches out. Cinder got her breath back and has wide, teary eyes as they approach the doors. She squirms for a bit and he lets her down.

Standing on shaky legs, Cinder pushes open the doors with all her might. The wide swing of the doors shakes the frame but the girl doesn’t care. On her first step out of the hotel, the grandfather clock in the lobby rings twelve.

-

One step outside of the Glass Unicorn and Cinder felt like sobbing, running, and collapsing at the same time. Her hand squeezed tight onto Rhodes’ as she trembled against the midnight air. Its chill is heavenly on her overheated skin, an after effect from the electricity.

It’s all over now. She’s finally free from the madame and her hotel. Cinder just wants to run despite her straining muscles so she leans on Rhodes. He mumbles something about hurrying to the airport, hoping that a plane is still there but Cinder barely comprehends.

She’s actually free and Rhodes had wanted her to leave with him. Each visit, Cinder truly thought that he didn't want her around. The plan was for the academy, where he won’t have to deal with her but instead he actually asked.

Granted Cinder had wished he’d asked like the first night they met. Or maybe years earlier, that would’ve been good too. But here they are. It took her obnoxious step sisters to get too nosey and for Rhodes to finally be there at the right time.

Yet it still feels like Rhodes is late. The madame had one last play with the collar and Cinder wanted to finally end her. She can still feel the buzz in her neck.

Even though they’ve only walked down the street so far, Cinder feels too close and so far away from the Glass Unicorn. She feels like sobbing again.

“Hey, hey,” Rhodes moves his arm to comfortably enwrap her with warmth, “it’s okay now Cinder.”

A sob hitches in her throat and it’s like her semblance is burning her from the inside. Cinder doesn’t think she’s okay right now, she doesn’t believe she’ll ever be okay, but finally walking out of those pristine doors felt so good.

Somewhere in her thoughts, there’s the question on how it would feel like if she actually gave what the madame and her daughters deserved. At the same time, Cinder never wants to enter the Glass Unicorn even if her life depends on it. Which it does not though, she doesn’t ever have to be there again.

She’s finally freed.

That hopeful feeling gets lodged into her throat when suddenly a nice looking car pulls up in front of them. Rhodes holds her close as her heart hammers. Cinder can’t phantom what is going on as the well dressed driver exits and approaches them.

“Mr. Kolossos,” the man nods politely and when he looks at Cinder she flinches but he continues with another nod, “Miss.” He opens the backseat door and waves over, “This way please.”

“I didn’t call for a car,” Rhodes said and walked on, guiding Cinder away from the car.

As they’re passing the open car door, someone from inside scoffs, “Just get in here, Rhodes.”

In the nightlight, it’s hard for Cinder to see inside the car but she sees a feminine figure that matches the voice. Cinder can’t help but shake.

Rhodes on the other hand freezes.

“What are you doing here?”

“Picking you up unless you want to walk all the way to the airbay. The jet’s not there by the way.”

The huntsman huffs quietly but up close Cinder can see his lips barely form a smile. He catches her gaze and he winces. Rhodes pinches the bridge of his nose before whispering to her, “Cinder, I know you’ve been through a lot right now but do you still trust me?”

She doesn’t like the unsureness in his eyes, like she’s the one who will hurt him. Cinder knows there has been nights where she outright hates it when he leaves or his plan to wait seven years in that hotel. But every time he comes back, Cinder can’t help but want to hope that this time, she’ll join him.

And now it’s happening she knows that Rhodes is the only person she can rely on. If she’s on her own, well, she’ll have to be everything she needs. Cinder doesn’t know where that will take her but right now, she wants to stay with Rhodes.

“Yes,” Cinder tells him, squeezing his hand back.

“Thank you,” Rhodes smiles and she doesn’t know how to feel about that. Being thanked and stuff, especially over feelings. He looks back over to the car and huffs, “Fine, we’ll get in.”

Rhodes goes in first, still holding Cinder’s hand and worryingly looks between Cinder and the door closed behind her. Cinder kind of appreciates not being in the middle seat. Feeling trapped in a fancy enclosed position is too soon for her anxiety.

Still though, Cinder peeks behind Rhodes’ bulk to see the lady. The car starts up and when they’re passing under streetlights, Cinder sees white long hair of a woman only seen on TV.

“I never imagined this is what your emergency was about.”

“Well, I didn’t need to tell you Willow,” Rhodes said plainly.

Willow Schnee rolls her eyes and accidentally makes eye contact with Cinder. She presses her lips in a thin line, neither mean or annoyed, simply processing. Eventually she sighs and looks away, “You two need a place for the night. We’ll talk more tomorrow, okay Rhodes and…”

The empty silence has Willow awkwardly glance back to her. Cinder has never seen an elegant lady look awkward before, it’s kind of odd.

“Cinder,” she fills in.

“Cinder,” Willow repeats. “Alright, well,” she sighs again, faces the front, “we’ll be at home soon enough.”

At that word, home , Cinder tenses and relaxes. Any place is better than the hotel. She leans into Rhodes’ side and closes her eyes.

-

Thanks for reading!