#where's dust in this comic. did killer try something like this with dust too. did it end up in the same ending

[bleachcakes]

MouseTrapped - FanFic Advertisment

Fic Chapter Excerpt - Read in Full on Ao3 

Forest Nash isn’t in a horror movie, that’s his callers. Forest is the background character who survives because he’s to far away from the action, just someone thrown in to spice up the plot while characters get slashed.

But when he’s sent to retrieve Dawns lost song he realizes he might just be the final girl in a new movie. One where his stalker never got the chance to dwell on crushes until right now.

A/N—Aka, In this one, Marie is way more focused on the killing part of her revenge then the truth telling and wants to stop the 911 help from the radio, so she sends her son to keep him quiet. Forest accidentally catches a different and less murderous kind of attention from Henry Barrow simply by existing and having a nice voice.

(Current) Entire Fic Word Count: 31,290

(Current) Number of Chapters: 11

Chapter Word Count: 2,930

Pairing: Forrest Nash / Henry Barrow -  Killer Frequency

Fic Warnings: Graphic depictions of violence, unhealthy relationships, obsessive behavior, one sided attraction,, multiple endings

Chapter 1 [Rough Introductions]

Excerpt: 

Forrest had never noticed how big the radio station was considering the small size of the town until it felt like every corner had someone lurking in it. He had felt safe in his little Dj booth right across from Peggy in her room. Like a little kid hiding under their blankets, nothing could get him as long as he was in there.

But as redirected 911 calls mounted and he was forced to continue to venture outside his office the more uneasy he got. The staff room and bathroom were easy enough, they weren’t very far and he even found a pair of scissors which he carried now as an added precaution. But then Peggy told him he needed to go downstairs, to the front lobby. 

The doors were locked but their clear glass could easily see in, and the lack of noise aside from his footsteps was eerie. It was just him and Peggy after all, and she made it clear she wouldn’t be stepping foot outside her booth. Maybe she wouldn’t even realize it if something happened down here to him… 

Farther back was even worse, rummaging around in the kitchen until he found a pizza box that clued him in on the likely frat house close by to the caller Virginia. Alone in the far back corner rooms… Forrest couldn’t help but let his imagination run wild on all sorts of gruesome deaths that could be achieved through the kitchen equipment. He made sure to get out of there fast.  

Although, he did take a bit of a souvenir with him from there. A mouse trap he had found. Sure, it wasn’t exactly a deadly weapon, but he thought it might serve to be a good defense, at least for his comfort. (He of course knew the trap was likely to catch nothing more than dust). But throughout the night, as he was forced to continue to venture out of his office he made a habit of picking up the traps. 

He set them outside his door as well as by Peggy’s and the stairwell, creating an almost comical defense barrier. Peggy called it silly, saying they were perfectly safe as long as they stayed inside but Forrest had other thoughts. 

What if the Whistling Man found out that it wasn’t 911 answering lines, but the radio station? It would be all too easy to cut off help from the source. Especially considering their pretty good success so far, aside from one very unfortunate mistake trying to save Maurice… if the Whistling man really wanted to take care of business they just needed to come down to KFAM. 

And they did just that.

Forrest couldn’t believe he was really going to have to go outside to get the record Dawn wanted. But Peggy insisted they didn’t have a choice, but she said that she had information, she just needed to hear her song first. 

After taking the key to the exit door (safety hazards out the window apparently, who locks a fire escape door?)  he was suddenly even more aware of the potential dangers. The alleyway behind the studios was extremely creepy. Littered with trash he was constantly spooking himself when accidentally kicking a bottle or lightly tripping over rocks from the broken-up concrete. What really made him shiver was the slight rattling from the chain link fences that sectioned off the alleyway. The way the wind whistled through the holes, gently shaking the metal links made shivers run down his spine.

It was all too ominous, even more so when he realized the exit door had locked behind him, trapping him outside. Thankfully he could get back in through the ground elevator, but seriously, who wouldn’t be terrified getting into a ground elevator?

Forrest clutched the scissors he carried tightly, taking a deep breath as he pulled down the handle on the fuse box, laughing in giddy relief when it sparked to life. He went back to the elevator, looking down into the open doors. Yeah, he could probably survive that… just as he was about to jump down a slight movement from the corner of his eye drew his attention. 

Forrest turned, staring at the fence down the way from him, breathing growing a little heavier. But he didn’t see anything more. Didn’t hear anything either. His mind must be playing tricks on him, his paranoia was through the roof after all. Turning away he cautiously hopped down the elevator, ducking into the basement. 

Keep Reading on Ao3

[parkers-gal]

masterlist

requests | closed to complete current requests <3

last updated | aug 5th, 2021

do not repost my work anywhere !! respect this please. | fics are not ordered in any particular way. these headers are mine so pls don’t use/take them

tom holland

insomnia - reader can’t get to sleep; tom finds out why

driving in the rain - fluffy dinner date and rainy drive back home

workouts and warmth - when all tom wants is some after-workout cuddles

from across the living room - announcing your engagement to your families

the one - you want to move out and get your own place as a couple, but tom doesn’t. nikki talks to him. 

anything for the twins - tom massages reader’s boobies during her period

moms, makeouts, and mishaps - nikki walks in during your makeout sesh

simple acts of intimacy - a fluffy 3.1k words worth of blurbs

silver surprises - the reader surprises tom at a premiere

twenty questions - questions ensue after tom & reader get stuck in an elevator

my gut - spinoff of twenty questions with claustrophobic!reader (tw/ anxiety + attacks)

stealth mode - tom & reader scaring each other

unicorns vs pegasuses - tom shuts the reader up by kissing them

a good story - tom meets reader at a meet & greet — friendships blossom to lovers

deal breaker - tom wants kids, but the reader does not

his lap - reader asks for help in overcoming an insecurity; tom misreads the situation

pool day - pool day w/ tom + the boys

hot - the reader picks a certain song that reminds her of tom - the boys go wild

grounded by rocks - tom talks about you in an interview for cherry

your hands - when all he wants is a simple head massage

late flights - in which tom takes too much time with the fans

nobody wanted to - where only one person makes it out alive

way more than 50 - the hollands trick the reader into thinking they did something they weren’t supposed to 

why [ pt ii ] - sweet cupcakes, and a not so sweet breakup

what looks suspicious - nikki doesn’t exactly approve of tom dating the reader

something sweet - reader drops off small gifts while tom’s on set

he remembers - when tom finds the letter

missed you - reuniting w/tom after four long months

soft gangsta - tom tries to dress edgy; the reader is unconvinced

the shoe game - reader & tom play the shoe game at their wedding

too much - when the reader has a rough time with work, tom comforts them

losing grip [ pt ii ] - a losing battle between the reader and a hereditary disease causes heartbreak

your captain america - protective!tom holland of young reader (age gap)

sexy genius - reader is a fan of (and meets) jake gyllenhaal

teddy bear cuddles - tom wears an oversized hoodie

nonsense - the boys think the reader is meddling with tom’s work

circles before yourself - rule #2 - osterfield!reader gets caught with tom

seventeen times - when the reader is having a hard time in lock down, tom tries to help (TW // depression)

pixie dust hair - tom assures insecure!reader that the pixie haircut looks good <3

a few more months - reader passes out during a run; tw // excessive exercising

tiktok au’s

body ody ody - tom gets a little jealous over a few social media comments 

sweats in the supermarket - getting tom hard when he wears sweats

put your records on - trying not to kiss each other first

mood killer - saying dirty things into tom’s ear

say it back - pranking tom by not saying ily back to him

two different ways - tom choking the reader to get two different reactions 

brutal - doing the “did you mean to post this?” trend on tom 

worst thirty minutes of my life - playing a drinking game with tom to see who gives into cuddles first

my girl’s cuddles - crawling into tom’s lap 

even - buying hot leggings & taping tom’s reaction 

goofball - a silly way to reveal reader’s pregnancy to tom 

end the debate - “i found out why my boobs are small” trend

slam the car door - doing the car door prank on tom 

water bottle wars - the boys ask you and tom questions about each other. wrong answers result in sprayed water 

get you back real good - you & the boys prank tom after watching a scary movie 

peachy - sighing / moaning in front of tom playing video games to get his reaction

my princess - tom does a tiktok where he guesses all your answers to everyday questions

dad!tom

needles and needs - when scarlet has to get shots, you realize she may not be the only one that needs comforting

all my girls - scarlet meets her baby sister for the first time (dad!tom)

everything i love about u - tom is afraid baby red might hate him for leaving home too much

a little extra help - stepdad!tom being the best dad to your daughter

through the tears - pregnant!reader goes into labour, and baby holland meets the family

first feed - tom watches you breastfeed for the first time

warmth from the love - baby holland’s first Christmas

first words - baby holland speaks for the first time

breaking the internet - when your pregnancy announcement crashes multiple apps/websites (pregnant!reader)

breaking the internet... again - when baby holland breaks the internet

boyfriends and brunch - when jade brings home her boyfriend (aged!up)

big sister + how are babies made - telling scarlet about the baby on the way (pregnant!reader)

too many kids - the reader’s dad has some commentary about the twins

mumma’s girl - tom gets jealous when scarlet isn’t a daddy’s girl

angels - a little skin to skin time with his best girl

family man - after a nasty breakup, tom finds out you had his child

cheesy uncles - telling paddy he’s going to be an uncle

ag!reader (more to come !!)

y’all really get nasty - tom and the fans discuss ag!reader’s songs

my favorite things - ag!reader performs in front of the mcu cast at the grammy’s

34 + 35 - the boys react to reader’s new song(s)

34 + 35 remix - the boys reacting to the remix

his remedy - the boys react to positions deluxe

neglected - AG!reader breaks up w tom because of their job; tom searches for answers

low-key wants him - reader talks about how much nonna (+ her fam) loves tom

see u soon - reader interacts with tom while on stage for the swt

a few spilled secrets - AG!reader performs on jimmy fallon’s show.. tom and her confess a few secrets

for the first time - when the reader breaks down crying while singing about her ex, tom is there to comfort her

dance with me, rain on me - reader has a hard time on set, tom to the rescue

every tomorrow - the first album release night after your breakup

here we go again - introducing tom (+ the boys) to your celebrity friends

condoms or safety nets - the boys react to AG!reader’s song “safety net”

we’re not engaged - AG!reader announcing to the world why they no longer have a fiance... (fluffy)

the late late show - AG!reader & tom do spill your guts or fill your guts

pain from pleasure - dad!tom goes through a birth simulator — controlled by the reader

never have i ever - tom & the reader play a game on the late late show

fluffy hair - ag!reader has a zoom interview with zach sang. tom makes an appearance

fighting off the haters - ag!reader and older!tom holland (age gap) attend an award show after going public

run your hands thru my hair - tom reacts to ag!reader’s song “my hair”

stick to acting - tom tries to make a beat for ag!reader

practically twins - reader meets sebastian & anthony at comic con

damn lucky - black!reader wears her hair naturally during an interview

what a piece - reader talks about tom related songs & tattoos

flip it - tom talks about reader in an interview

at the door - older!reader & tom fight off haters

a headcannon of ag!reader being a marvel cast member

a headcannon of tom & the reader attending the avengers endgame premiere

styles!reader (more to come !!)

bathroom kisses - makeout sessions with tom and styles!reader in the bathroom

yeah, he is - tom holland x styles!reader meet the styles family; protective older brother harry makes an appearance

unparalleled love - older brother harry styles makes a speech at reader’s wedding

grilled - date night for tom & styles!reader is a bit difficult with two kids; older brother!harry to the rescue

baby showers and brothers - dad!tom & styles!reader are going to be parents

potential boyfriend - tom has a crush on the reader when they first meet

ts!reader (more to come!!)

trust me - tom & the reader defend her after nikki doesn’t approve

your london boy - tom & co. + the world reacts to “london boy”

boy of my dreams - tom being proud of the reader for winning a grammy

rapper!tom

tom records your sounds during sex for his music (hc)

tom talks about you in an interview

concepts: one , two , three

professor!tom

my pretty girl - tom gets jealous when reader gets many valentines

other reader tropes

cherry - reader is a screenwriter for tom’s upcoming movie

no shouting - singer!reader needs some help after paparazzis are too much (based on a video of tom)

pregnancy belly - actress!reader has to wear a pregnancy belly for her role, and the boys tease tom about when it’ll be real

we march - actress!reader being a huge feminist

passions & pediatricians - pediatrician-to-be!reader meets tom

politics - reader’s granpa is joe biden (requested) and tom meets him

extra support - psychiatrist!reader helps tom on the set of cherry

you made it big - tom holland x actress!reader at the after party

partition - the boys react to famous!reader singing partition

senorita - singer!reader makes a music video with shawn, who’s tom’s new best friend

miniseries 

boomerang: one , two , three , four [completed]

peter parker

making amends

➢ enemies to lovers ; college!peter x super soldier!reader ; 30k words ; sorta slow burn

cheeky guy, favorite thighs - college!peter doing a tik tok challenge — between the reader’s thighs [tik tok au]

a little nicer - doing the prank on peter (”you could’ve been a little nicer to me today”)

start searching - first make out sessions with our best boy :)

hidden hickeys - the avengers think innocence of peter, until they’re proven wrong

the team - part two of hidden hickeys; reader meets the avengers

all of you - late night talks about your future with peter :’)

like you wouldn’t believe - reader tells mj about her & peter’s awesome sex

slip from my hands - roommate!peter comforts the reader after a nightmare

i’d wait for her - college!peter parker needs to come to terms with you and your boyfriend

shut up and kiss me - soft make out sessions with peter :)

all the good things in the world, and i get you - insecure!reader needs a little reassuring 

modern chivalry - peter being a gentleman on the subway

eggnog and mistletoe - peter helps you love the holidays

the force awakens? it sleeps - a little extra comfort & care from our favorite baby boyfriend 

a prince - wonder woman!reader meets spider-man (& avengers) in a mission

steve rogers fics - peter finds you reading fanfiction abt steve rogers

fanboy!peter

fanboys and bracelets - fanboy!peter parker goes to famous!singer!reader’s meet and greet

fanboys and phone numbers - fanboy!peter parker continuation 

showing around - fanboy!peter gets VIP access; some dancing ensues

stark!reader + avengers!reader

if you knew feelings - the avengers want you & peter to break up

sleeping - peter misinterprets a few important questions

the may to your ben - college!best friend!peter parker x stark!reader fluff

race ya - peter confesses his feelings for rogers!reader after a mission — on comms

frat bathrooms - stark!reader joins the avengers where she sees college!peter, the boy she slept with at a frat party

rainy days - reader doesn’t like rainy days, a certain wall-climber changes their mind

already got her - jealous!peter makes a public confession

flustered!peter

a nervous one - flustered!peter parker sees cheerleader!reader in her uniform

one day soon - flustered!peter parker x affectionate!reader

all better - flustered!peter parker does some lab flirting with reader

dad!peter + pregnant!reader

unplanned  [ part ii ] - reader gets pregnant... breaks up with peter to avoid it all

burrito wraps - reader worries that baby parker might be cold

a name to remember - latine!reader & peter give their girl a special name

you’re magic - a certain wall crawler hears two heartbeats

sgt. bucky barnes

first cuddles - bucky asks to cuddle for the first time

harry holland

golden light, the love of my life - the boys tease harry —on a live video— for being whipped

it won’t f^cking open - harry lends a helping hand

how much i - those three magical words are exchanged for the first time

cuddly koala moments - time the reader just needed harry’s warmth

anything for hands - the reader cuts harry’s hair on instagram live

your other best friend - the reader is sam’s new friend, but harry thinks they like tom instead

you’re my anchor - harry has an anxiety attack, but the reader knows what to do

what’s his [ pt ii ] - when everything thinks the reader should date tom instead, harry snaps

whipped fries - harry brags about the reader winning the pub quiz for them

tell me, show me - the reader makes harry flustered by playing w/the strings from his sweatpants

keep your cool - tom setting u up with his brother // nikki being wary

ag!reader

you’re such a dream to me — ag!reader writes r.e.m. about harry

harry styles

intoxicating - soft bubbles baths with long haired!harry 

frayed braids - reader braids long haired!harry’s hair

others:

harrison osterfield

not anymore - when harrison comes back from filming, he’s determed to win the reader’s heart

irreversible - when relationships fall apart, people fall apart. (infidelity)

circles before yourselves - rule #1  - harrison x osterfield!reader (sister) when brothers talk, bad things begin

think of her - harrison asks your family for their blessing [holland!sister]

steve harrington

together not never - steve discovers the reader is pregnant

[fandom-imagines]

Please.

Fandom: Friday the Thirteenth

Pairing: Jason X Reader

Warnings: Toxic relationship, non-con (not graphic, just mentioned), murder (of course).

Summary: Jason was ready to kill, but then he met her. 

Words: 1.7k

Camp Crystal Lake, the supposedly cursed lake, that’s where Y/N and her friends were currently headed. Not that she wanted to of course, her supposed friends, along with her boyfriend, often forced her to do things she didn’t want too.

They were around half a mile away from Damons, Y/N’s boyfriend, cabin that resided close to the camp. The five of them had never been there before, except Damon, and they were all excited; all except Y/N that is.

She couldn’t deny the fact that the place was beautiful, it was very beautiful, but she didn’t want to be here. Had it not been for the fact she had been threatened into it, she wouldn’t have come.

Damon was incredibly toxic, along with his three friends that she had been introduced to after their first date. He started off kind, but soon turned into a toxic piece of shit, to put it politely. He would often force her into doing things through threats of telling people secrets about her that she had trusted him with before he became toxic. She went from liking him a lot, to hating him a lot. A quick change.

“We’re here,” Damon’s voice sounded, striking a feeling of hatred in his girlfriend’s chest, “isn’t it amazing.” He said, signaling towards the cabin as he did so.

Narcissist too.

The rest of the group cheered in agreement, all except Y/N.

She watched as the other four clambered out of the van, waiting for them all to rush up to the cabin before following.

~

Jason was aware of the intruders the second they arrived. His body filled with uncontrollable rage, hand gripping his machete tighter than ever before.

He had been having a good day.

He knew what he had to do, and how he was going to do it.

~

“Babe,” Damon speaking ripped Y/N from her thoughts, “why aren’t you laughing?”

The two of them were currently seated on the porch outside, legs dangling over the edge.

“Huh?” She asked quietly, “What do you mean?”

Damon let out a deep sigh, “I mean I’ve been talking for the past ten minutes and you haven’t even responded.”

“I’m sorry.” Her voice was merely a whisper, being genuinely afraid of his reaction.

She heard Damon climb to his feet, not daring to look up at him.

“Whatever.” He spat, turning and walking away back inside to his friends.

She merely sighed.

~

Jason watched from outside the cabin as night-time grew closer.

He stared through the open windows as two of the group were drinking, the other two making out on the couch which simply made his grip on the machete tighten, anger rising up to his chest.

He was ready.

~

Y/N was still seated on the porch outside, this time nursing a bottle of alcohol, something that she rarely drank. She usually only drank when she was depressed.

Her Y/E/C eyes glanced up at the moon as she recalled all the good memories she had with Damon, tears filling her eyes as she did so. Closing her eyes, she did her best to conceal her sadness, not wanting to show weakness as she knew that he would take advantage of her sadness. That was something he did a lot.

She just wanted it to end; she needed it to end.

~

Jason observed the cabin once again, waiting for somebody to leave the building so that he could start his killing spree.

That was when he spotted her.

A Y/H/C-haired girl sitting alone outside. She was holding an alcoholic beverage tightly in her hand, something that disgusted him. As he observed her closer, it seemed as though she felt the same way he did about alcohol, face pulling into one of disgust when she took a sip, clearly not enjoying the taste.

Then why is she drinking it?

His thoughts wouldn’t be answered of course.

He was going to kill her. He was going to kill them all.

Or so he thought.

~

It was around 11pm when Damon’s girlfriend finally joined the party.

Everyone was drunk by now, dancing wildly as they continued to drink.

Y/N wasn’t though, she had only had one bottle and that wasn’t very strong. She was completely sober.

“Hey babe,” Damon reeked of alcohol, making her cringe, “where’ve you been?”

“Out.” Her words were quiet, something that happened often around him.

“Want a drink?” He asked, shoving another bottle in front of her face, basically demanding that she takes it.

“No, thank you.”

“Take it.” He spat, tightly gripping her hand, and forcing the drink into it, lifting it to her lips making her gulp.

~

It wasn’t long before his first victim left the cabin.

He was heading towards a small shack down from the cabin, by the river.

Jason observed the tall man as he entered the shack, searching for whatever it was he was after. Jason followed him, being as silent as possible despite his tall figure that lead to him nearly headbutting the doorway.

The victim found what he was looking for: more alcohol.

As he turned to leave the shack, the door slammed shut causing dust to fall onto both Jason and the unnamed man as it did so.

“Who’s there?” Jason cringed at the high-pitched voice which almost hurt his eardrums.

It was clear he was scared.

“C’mon, Damon.” His voice shook, “This isn’t funny man.”

Jason walked towards him, footsteps echoing throughout the small room.

“D-dude st-“his sentence was cut short with a scream as the killer shoved him against the wall, lifting him from his feet using the grip had around his neck.

He simply stabbed him, ignoring the desperate pleads for Jason the release his tight grip.

~

Y/N stood silently in the corner, witnessing her boyfriend flirt with his friend.

His hand was placed on her shoulder, his free hand holding a bottle of beer which he placed against the blondes’ wine glass, both raising their drinks to their lips quickly afterwards. She watched as the other girl laughed at, what she assumed to be, Damon’s joke.

It’s probably shit.

A sigh left Y/N’s lips as she noticed him lean down to the girls’ ear, whispering something that she couldn’t hear. She knew what it was, however. An invitation to join him in the upstairs bedroom. But the girl refused, shocking both Damon and his girlfriend. The taller boy simply nodded, stalking back towards the girlfriend that he had forgot he had, or simply didn’t care that he had.

“You okay?” Damon’s words were slurred as he pulled her tightly against his body, hands travelling down her back before reaching her ass, groping it much to the owners’ dismay.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” She gulped, trying to remove herself from his grip but the hold he had on her was too tight.

“Let’s go upstairs,” his words were demanding, leaving no room for refusal, “now.”

She simply nodded.

~

Jason finished up with another victim, dragging their body to his own cabin to use later.

He stalked back up to the cabin where he knew his last two victims were residing. He noticed that the upstairs light was on, lifting himself with ease to reach the platform beneath the open window of the room.

A male’s moan was the first thing he heard, shortly followed by some filthy and degrading words through another moan. He noticed that the other person wasn’t responding and, as he looked through the window, he saw that her body was stiff.

He dropped through the window, finding it comical when the man quickly moved from his position on top of her to face the killer.

“What the fuck?!” He screamed, jumping from the bed despite his naked form.

The girl remained on the bed, seemingly frozen in shock as she watched the masked man force Damon against the wall, pinning his body to it with his machete before turning to his final victim, ignoring the blood that was dripping onto his feet.

“Please…” He expected her to beg for mercy, beg for him to not hurt her, but her response left him shocked. “Please kill me.” Tears leaked from her eyes as she begged him to end her life.

Jason hesitated, noticing how she had moved towards him, moving her hand to grip his last machete before placing it in his hand which she then lifted to hold the weapon to her chest. He was about to push it through her chest when his mother’s voice stopped him.

“Save her, Jason. Don’t hurt her.”

That was enough to prevent him ending her life, dropping his arm to his side.

The girl in front of him let out a sob at the realisation that she was still alive and it placed a heavy feeling in Jason’s chest, something he didn’t like.

“P-please!” Her voice was strained, and he assumed that she was trying to not completely break down, “Please kill me, I don’t want to be alive.” Her words trailed off gradually as she spoke, eyes casted downwards as tears slipped down her cheeks.

Jason shook his head, despite knowing that she couldn’t see him.

“W-why not?” She asked quietly, glancing up at the taller man.

“Comfort her.” His mother spoke again.

Jason did what his mother said, sitting beside the girl whilst making sure that she was unable to reach his weapon in case she tried.

He wrapped his arm around her, doing his best to unstiffen his body. He was, once again, shocked as she leant into him, beginning to sob into his shoulder.

“Please.” She whispered, tears soaking his jacket. “I can’t do this anymore.”

The dead body of the man causing her pain behind them was forgotten, Y/N relishing in the killers’ gentle touch, gentleness being something foreign to her. Even though he was tense, she still appreciated the man’s gesture and attempt at comforting her.

Jason shook his head, releasing her from his arm to stand up.

She watched as he held out a hand to the seated girl, one she gladly took and stood beside him. She felt an odd sensation in her chest as he led her outside of the cabin, leaving the body behind as she was taken to his cabin. The cabin where she would learn true happiness, where she would learn true love.

(Kinda wanna write another part on this to show their relationship grow, but I don’t know.)

[aconstantstateofbladerunner]

101 Open MHA Gen Prompts

I had a very long ask game where people gave me fake titles and I came up with fic ideas to go with them.  Multiple people asked to use some of them as prompts, and some of my friends have lately maligned the lack of gen prompts out there, so I decided to compile them all into a single post.  Almost all of these are gen, aka not shipping, but you can do what you want I’m not your boss.  Everything is free and open to use WITH CREDIT, so have fun with my word vomit.

1. In Dreams I Had the Sun - Being the number one hero isn’t all it’a cracked up to be, Toshinori realizes early on

2. The Chainlink Fence that Held the Ocean - In his new book post-retirement, All Might opens up about his regrets, struggles with mental health, and his issues with the hero system as a whole.  The backlash is swift and intense.

3. Welcome to the Loud Silence - After an injury, Izuku is rendered deaf.

4. Water Since Turned Red - After a villain attack nearly kills All Might, the beach where Izuku used to go to find comfort now feels tainted.

5. all scrap left untouched is bound together - A group hero students who failed the provincial license exam for the third time, effectively ending their careers before they start, get together to take revenge on UA’s first years who beat them out.

6. You’ve saved more more times than you know - Times All Might saved people without his powers, just by being a cool, nice dude.

7. No Amount of Tragedy Can Justify Your Actions - A dying All for One tries to justify his centuries of cruelty to an uncaring Toshinori.

8. To Leave a Cage Locked - One for All is conscious and has a will of its own, one that doesn’t always line up with Izuku’s wellbeing.

9. Okay, who let in the Kraken? - Izuku is the reincarnation of an ancient eldritch horror.

10. keep us alive up above - Izuku and Shigaraki get trapped together somewhere.  Izuku knows he needs the villain’s help to survive and escape, but the other would rather they both die.

11. The world will revolve around me neither less - The ebbs and flows of AFO’s influence over the years.

12. More Roulette, Not Russian - Kids get their quirks swapped.

13. Patron Saints - Toshinori teaches a class about pre-quirk superhero comic characters and their influence.

14. Don't Come Back - Touya Todoroki’s first few weeks after a severe injury resulted in his father abandoning him.

15. The Blessed and the Fool - Toshinori meets up with a few of his ua classmates after retiring.

16. Not Your Sacrifice - Some of the other kids have started adopting some of Izuku’s self sacrificing habits and the teachers are concerned.

17. Break in the Storm - Villains use a power outage as an opening to break into ua.

18. One Day Those Consequences Will Finally Catch Up - Even though the teachers don’t take her concerns seriously, Inko saves every piece of evidence regarding people hurting her son.

19. a garden in their eyes - Izuku meets a fan who got injured after trying to step into a villain fight, just like he did, and it makes him question some things.

20. what could have been, if not for you - After Inko divorces him, Hisashi’s goes to the press to say All Might stole his wife and son.

21. Promised Misery - All Might finds out the severity of Bakugou’s bullying, and warns him he’s on thin ice with him.

22. Fly Up Higher, Blossom Brighter - Izuku has to write a paper for middle school about being positive, intercut with all the bullshit he has to deal with.

23. Libre Me from Hell - One of Izuku’s new quirks is spiral related.

24. No One to Blame but Yourself - Izuku’s kindness doesn’t extend to murderers, tragic backstory or not.

25. At Its Finest - Izuku accidentally gets involved in a hero commission coverup.

26. A Rising Issue - Izuku starts developing more severe side effects of his injuries.  He’s convinced he’s under the influence of a quirk, while the adults thing he’s finally gone too far hurting himself.

27. What you are in the Dark - Izuku usually keeps most of his anger to himself until he can’t.

28. nowhere to go - Inko moves into UA after their home was destroyed.

29. Something Without - My theory about the 2 OFA vestiges that are blurred out is they don’t approve of izuku as a successor.  Izuku tries to figure out why. 

30. Walking with a Ghost - Toshinori joins the OFA dreams while he’s in a coma.  He gets to reunite with nana, and is more open to Izuku about his past and feelings.  Part of his starts to wonder if it’s worth waking up, since he will die and join the others eventually.

31. Death By Crying - Izuku is affected by a quirk that will suffocate him if he expresses any emotion.

32. Justice is Subjective - The hero commission gets to Shigaraki before AFO does.  

33. Undo / Underdog - Death loop fic.  Izuku keeps reliving the day he met all might after being killed by the sludge villain.  he has to find a way to break the loop and survive, but he gets s little weaker every time he restarts.

34. Like Wildfire - A rumor that Izuku is All Might’s bio son picks up steam, and the characters have to decide whether to deny it but risk suspicion or play along and add a new layer to the lies protecting one for all.

35. Once Upon A December - All Might and Inko actually met in the past trope.

36. Some Legends Are Told - All Might’s first interview post-retirement.

37. Will The Real Mentor Please Stand Up - Aizawa considers himself the better teacher, but a lot of the kids seem to like All Might more.

38. I don't want the cure, I want the POISON! - Inko is killed in a hit and run, and Izuku becomes desperate to find the killer.

39. I will kill my heart before I dance on stage for these bigots - Izuku is interviewed as a rising star of UA, and the interviewer brings in some of his old bullies because they claimed to be his friends from middle school.  Izuku does not play along.

40. Split Ends - A quirk gives Izuku brief visions of what would have happened if he made different decisions.

41. Dreamless Sleep - A One for All dream leaves Izuku with a cryptic half-warning, and he desperately experiments to try and figure out how to trigger the visions to get the rest of it.

42. toxic flowers and pretty blades - Young Inko escapes the constricting life of her cruel wealthy family by becoming a vigilante.

43. The Suns we Orbit - Some of the other teachers believe Izuku is too codependent on Toshinori, and separate them for a time.

44. Submerged - Similar to those buried alive fics only someone’s in a box at the bottom of the ocean.

45. Deprive - Izuku also loses his stomach to an injury, and struggles to adjust to the necessary lifestyle changes.

46. The ashes fall like snow - Post Kamino cleanup.

47. Home will always be here - Inko cares for Izuku after he’s sent home due to “trouble at work study” but he refuses to clarify what that means.

48. Playing Favorites - A look at several times where Izuku was punished, while Bakugou got off scot free.

49. Elusive Dreams - Some kind of training or issue forces the kids to stay away for several consecutive day, and they start losing it.

50. Fracture - Izuku struggles through physical therapy after a severe injury that leaves his hero career in question.

51. Starlight, Starbright - Space cadet au

52. Someone in Your Corner - Gran Torino looking after Nana, Toshi, and finally Izuku through the years.

53. I cast magic missile into the darkness - Generic “the gang plays d&d” fic.

54. One Month At A Time - Izuku breaks a limb, and has to let in heal naturally over the course of several months.

55. Head Above Water - Izuku runs out of his pain meds and can’t get access to more doses for a while, so he has to endure not only the pain, but the withdrawal symptoms.

56. Are you going to leave a path to trace - All Might uses a new strategy to try and get Izuku to be less self sacrificial: what about all the young kids who are going to look up to him?

57. The View from Halfway Down - Izuku realizes that a risky move has just landed him with a potentially life threatening injury, but the fight it still going.

58. The Dust Bites Back - A villain All Might defeated early in his career is back and out for revenge.

59. The Absence of your Worth - Nighteye thinks he’s put together a rock solid case for why izuku isn’t worthy of One for All.  All Might’s response is to ask if he has something against quirkless people.

60. Behind the Screens Nobody is Afraid - All Might explains some of the context of his most popular hero videos to Izuku.  They are much more tragic than the media has spun them in hindsight.

61. Under the Light of the Moon - Someone gets turned into a werewolf.  And I ain’t talking the wattpad piss shit.  I’m talking full-on back-breaking monstrous transformations into a bloodthirsty abomination set to Bad Moon Rising.

62. some dreams were made to be broken - Bakugou crosses a line and finally gets expelled.

63. You Say You're Into Closure - Izuku finally beats Bakugou in a one on one fight fair and square, but Bakugou is a sore loser.

64. Something or Someone Missing - AU’s memories of Izuku get wiped, but those closest to him can’t help but feel an absence.

65. Too Little Too Late - Izuku’s father returns to find he’s been replaced.

66. Collecting Dust - Inko goes through the stuff Izuku didn’t take to the dorms.

67. Where the souls of wanderers go - Toshi meets up with a retired hero support group.

68. Fragility of Trust - Suspected traitor au

69. no one answered - Izuku is trapped in a cell in a building that’s collapsing in slow motion due to a quirk.

70. Eye of the Storm - One of the other kids has a panic attack for the first time between public appearances.  izuku has never seen from from the outside.

71. To Whom It May Concern - The kids find a mysterious collection of letters from previous students hidden in the ceiling of the classroom.  Some are ominous, some are incomprehensible.  Aizawa has no answers.  They enthusiastically go to try and solve the mystery within, but that excitement quickly diminishes the more they find out.

72. Of Popsicles and Ponytails - All Might gets in a discussion with the other teachers about whether the Clark Kent glasses thing would actually work.  All Might bets them it does, so he goes around town with no disguise other than his hair being up, and no one bats an eye.

73. All Men are Not Born Equal - Word gets out to the public that izuku used to be quirkless.  Everyone finds out just how deep anti-quirkless sentiments run when some begin to question whether a quirkless kid should be at ua, regardless of whether or not he has a quirk now.

74. Childhood is the kingdom where nobody dies - Something about encountering death in person for the first time being the dividing line between child and adult.

75. Sins of the Father - All for One has had many children over the centuries, and has made numerous attempts to groom them into the ideal heir with several different methods.  None of them worked though.

76. Where The Dead Come To Rest - The kids come home after a long, grueling mission where they saw some shit, and are too tired to process what they went through.  They take off their gear for plain clothes, then sit in the common room in silence long into the night, not wanting to open themselves up but also not wanting to be alone.

77. Rivalry - Nighteye tries to pit Izuku and Mirio against one another.  It goes right over Mirio’s head, but Izuku becomes convinced the other boy is in on Nighteye’s plan to wear him down until he gives up One for All.

78. A Subtle Language - All Might and Nana never said out loud that they loved each other, but little things told them that they did.  All Might hopes to pass a similar love down to his own successor.  But Izuku is very different than himself as a kid, and he needs to learn a new subtle language of affection.

79. It’s Gone - One for All stops working one day.

80. A Sight For Sore Eyes - All Might looking after Izuku in the aftermath of the second movie.

81. Loose Lips (sink ships) - Bakugou blurts out something about One for All during a rage, so the rest of the class jump on him and Izuku for answers.

82. No Expectations - Word gets out that All Might is going to choose a successor.  None of the theories or speculation online resemble Izuku in the slightest.

83. Eden was Only a Garden - Izuku gets hit with a quirk that erases some of his most traumatic memories, but in doing so loses part of who he is.

84. Run it Down - With all Izuku’s new quirks and his incredible skill, some of the other students with similar powers (Iida, Sero, Uraraka) start to feel like izuku is upstaging them.  And it affects their friendship.

85. Fool's Gold - Bakugou grows even more jealous of Izuku having One for All, and his relationship with All Might.  He thinks that if he could just prove himself to be more worthy, All Might would change his mind and name him his successor.  But in reality, he ends up jeopardizing the relationship they already have.

86. somewhere down the road - The final deadline for Nighteye’s predictions passes, and All Might lives.  He debates telling Izuku, as even though it would be a weight off the boy’s mind, he doesn’t want to jinx it.  He will still die eventually after all.

87. Just For You - All Might has certain rules and boundaries for fan interactions that he completely ignores for Izuku.

88. if these walls could talk (their whispers would be maddening) - Montage of training accidents in a ‘cursed’ ua gym

89. If Only I Could... - Nighteye tells Mirio about One for All, including that he thinks he’s more deserving than Izuku and he plans to pressure him into giving it up.  Mirio struggles with the knowledge that his mentor, someone he respected more than anything, only saw him as a replacement for All Might, meanwhile watching Izuku strain under the pressure of that mentor’s impossible expectations.

90. This is a Test Designed to Provoke an Emotional Response - shameless Blade Runner AU

91. Once and for All - Retelling of the Superman story “What’s So Funny About Truth, Justice, and the American Way?” with All Might.  Some new heroes use much more aggressive and violent tactics against villains while also upstaging All Might.  That, and there general approval from the public cause All Might to question his moral code.

92. Sitting In The Rain - Tsuyu likes to just sit out in the rain sometimes.  Not do anything, just sit there.  Some friends decide to join her.

93. At Sundown - Mysterious creatures start attacking ua every night.  The gang works tirelessly during the day to find the cause and a solution, while defending their school and each other at night.

94. The 1000th time's the charm - Uraraka has been practicing a new move in secret but they just can’t get it right.  She wants it to be perfect before showing it off.  But one attempt gets her seriously hurt while training alone at night in one of the gyms, and she’s too hurt to get up to the phone to call for help.

95. Sunflower Seeds - All Might attempts to start a garden as a new hobby.

96. What It Means To Be Human - Sun god Toshi starts living among people.

97. Eyes on Me - All Might teaches Izuku some unarmed fighting moves to defend himself from bullies.

98. one remains - Izuku has developed all but one of the quirks he’s slated to, and he has no idea what it will be.  Anxiety ensues.

99. Come Back Home - Izuku vanishes from campus and everyone assumes he was kidnapped, but in reality he ran away to try and clear his head after a depressive spiral.  He goes by train as far away as he can until he comes to his senses and calls the others.

100. I Won - Izuku accidentally managed to kill Shigaraki during a skirmish, and while everyone around him praises his heroics, he struggles to deal with the fact that he killed someone.

101. Ivory Tower - All Might grapples with how much izuku suffered as a quirkless person, how he could have done more for quirkless rights in his time as a hero, and how now people may not care as much because he’s retired.

Reminder to credit me if you use any of these prompts, and a special thanks to everyone who submitted titles!

[etherrealoblivion]

Chapter Five: The Something In His Eyes

Table Of Contents

Fic summary: Owning a bookstore in downtown D.C. came with its fair share of downsides. You never thought that being the target of a serial killer would be one of them. Luckily, a nice FBI agent by the name of Spencer Reid is assigned to watch over you. What's the worst that could happen?

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Words: 1,963

MASTERLIST

~

Over the next few days, you fell into a rhythm. You’d work on schoolwork remotely from your room. It was pretty easy to keep up with all the free time you had. 

So, obviously, the remaining time off was spent getting to know the enigma of a man 

that was Spencer Reid. You formed a rather strange acquaintanceship with him, not quite friends but more than a protector and protectee. The real question was who was protecting who?

You discovered many things about him, some quite apparent, others not. For example, you assumed he was very into technology as most nerdy types were. In fact, it was quite the opposite. He despised all things electronic, from e-books to computers themselves.

“Do you even own a cell phone?”

“Yes!” he insisted, driving you to work for the third day in a row. “Sure, it’s not a fancy smartphone, but I can dial numbers so much easier, anyway.” He handed you his old-school flip-phone.

“How do you text people on this thing?”

He laughed politely.

“I don’t.”

You took the time to interrogate him on the nuances of text language, something he lovingly referred to as ‘dreadfully impractical’.

Maybe this wouldn’t be too bad.

Being constantly watched wasn’t as disconcerting as you’d expected. Well, being watched by Spencer wasn’t. You pretended you didn’t notice the dark blue honda with the tinted windows following you all the way to work and parking nearby. Strange that the FBI seems to need lessons in being covert.

Fortunately, rude customers and the smell of books managed to take your mind off your current situation.

What didn’t help was having to constantly stop Spencer from rearranging all the books in the shop.

“They’re categorized by the Dewey Decimal System,” he said, disgust in his tone making you stifle a giggle. “What? Everyone knows that the Library of Congress Classification System is far superior.”

“Maybe, but my workers have memorized the Dewey Decimal System. It’s easier.”

“But it’s too vague! When you’re categorizing books you need to work from all sorts of classifications. For example . . .”

It was amazing to see how passionate he was about sorting books. You’d never met a man that didn’t just throw a novel (or, more realistically, a comic book) back anywhere on the shelf when he’d finished it. Spencer treated each book like a separate piece of artwork, carefully placing them back in the correct spot without fail. He’d run his hands over the leather bound covers, caressing them as delicately as possible. You couldn’t help but notice the swiftness and gracefulness at which his hands moved.

“You okay?” you snapped out of your stupor and found him standing much closer, a gentle hand on your shoulder.

You took a step back and cleared your throat.

“Yes, ahem, sorry. I need to get back to work.”

Quickly, you walked back over to the front desk, starting to update the book index.

Maybe I should have requested Emily as my protector, you thought to yourself, dusting off a returned copy of Fahrenheit 451. Spencer was super nice and a huge dork. Maybe that was the problem. It was easy to start to think of him as a friend rather than someone just doing his job. Maybe if you’d met under different circumstances you might have been . . . friends. 

But that wasn’t the case. Spencer was there to protect you. Any teasing or joking around was just a formality. But why did he have to be so damn enticing?

Around nine o’clock, customers started to peter out. Soon, the only people left in the shop were you, Caleb, your co-worker, and Spencer, who’d been sitting on the window sill reading book after book.

“Hey, I’m gonna clock out,” Caleb said, stripping out of his work shirt. God, that man took any excuse to take his shirt off. You didn’t blame him all that much. D.C, even in the dead of winter, was hot as hell. And when you had a chest like that, one couldn’t be blamed for showing it off.

“Okay, be in tomorrow at ten. I don’t trust Claire to come in on time.”

“No prob,” he waltzed out the front door into the illuminated street, the bell tinkling lightly.

You stood and stretched, glancing over to the windowsill Spencer had been sitting in.

Shocked, you saw Spencer exactly where he’d been about an hour ago, slumped up on the windowsill, fast asleep, using a book as a pillow.

Strange, though it was, that this man was an FBI agent, you couldn’t help giggling at the sight of him sacked out like a toddler.

“Spencer?” you hated to disturb him but you knew that he’d want you to wake him up. “Spencer, wake up.”

He moaned uncomfortably and stretched, jumper lifting up slightly to expose his lean stomach. It took all the self control you had not to stare.

“Whasitgonon?” he mumbled, rubbing his eyes and sitting up.

“You fell asleep,” you walked over to the loveseat in the center of the store and plopped down, sighing.

“Oh god. Sorry,” he stood, shaking himself awake and walking over to you, staring at the pile of books he’d devoured. “I guess I over-exerted myself.”

You scoffed. 

“Oh, come on. I thought you were a genius,” you teased, tossing a pillow at him.

With a little fumble, he caught it and sat down next to you, smiling.

“Yeah, but after a night of restlessness, anyone’s an idiot.” 

He said it with a sad smile, looking straight ahead. You decided not to ask about the restlessness.

“‘Care keeps his watch in every old man’s eye, and where care lodges—“

“—sleep will never lie,’” Spencer finished the quote for you. “Shakespeare.”

Without thinking, you looked at him, shocked to find he was already looking at you. There was something behind his eyes that made you freeze. Something curious. 

And suddenly, in that moment, that split second, something shifted. You knew it and Spencer did too. You could tell by the sudden dilation of his eyes and the sharp intake of breath he let slip.

He recognized his mistake and broke eye contact, glancing away and clearing his throat.

“What, uh, what time is it?” he said, looking for a clock while nonchalantly moving farther away on the loveseat.

“Nearly eleven,” you said, glancing at the grandfather clock, smiling at the fact he didn’t wear a watch. Why is that so endearing? “We can leave now if you like?” You grabbed your purse and started locking up.

“Isn’t it closing time?” 

“Well, usually customers stop coming in at around ten, but we close officially at eleven.”

“Then why stay? Why not just leave at ten?”

“I guess I like to think that if someone has a book emergency, it’s comforting to know that I’m here.”

You blushed. You’d never really told anyone that. Claire and Caleb probably had no idea that you stayed as late as you did. What was it that made you tell Spencer?

He hadn’t said anything so you looked at him.

The darkness of the shop made it so you could only see his silhouette. A tall figure against the light of the street lamps, he was poised and solid, staring out into the empty street. 

“Spencer?”

“Get behind me,” his tone scared you. He spoke with urgency and you could see his hand on his hip where he’d concealed his gun.

Without hesitation, you stepped behind a bookshelf, slightly peeking around it so you could see what he was doing.

He moved like a shadow, slipping out of the shop and moving onto the street, towards the dark blue honda down the road.

Why is he sneaking up on the undercover car?

There was a screech and the car zoomed off and Spencer leaped into a sprint, running after it.

It finally clicked in your brain and you scolded yourself for not realizing it earlier.

That wasn’t an FBI car.

Becoming quickly aware of the danger you were in, you moved from behind the bookshelf to behind the loveseat, crouching as low as you could and trying to slow your breathing.

Your breath froze in your lungs as the soft sound of the bell by the door tinkled, alerting you that someone had entered the store. You snapped your hand over your mouth.

Praying it was Spencer but not actively believing it was, you stayed silent, waiting for the person to make themselves known.

“Y/N, it’s me. Are you here?”

It was Spencer.

You stood up from behind the sofa and ran to him, throwing your arms around him, hugging him tight and finally letting the tears fall from your eyes.

Feeling Spencer tense against you wasn’t the best feeling, but it was worth it for the way he melted into you after a moment, sliding his hands around your waist.

Breathing in deeply against his chest, you started to relax. His chest was harder than you’d thought. There were definitely some muscles he was keeping hidden.

Before you could enjoy the embrace too much, Spencer pulled back and looked at you.

There was a flicker of something in his eyes when you separated, but it was gone before you could analyze it, turning back to his professional demeanor.

“M-nine-L-D-G-seven,” he said robotically.

“What?” you said, removing your arms from around his neck and wiped the tears from your eyes, worrying that your brain had just short circuited.

“I got the plate but i’m sure he’ll replace it. It’s unlikely he’ll use that car again but I still need to report it.”

“I should have said something,” you murmured to yourself.

“What do you mean?” he said, whipping out his phone and typing rapidly.

“I saw the car following us earlier today. I assumed it was the protective detail.” Then, upon seeing the shocked look on his face: “I’m sorry, Spencer, I should have—“

His phone started to buzz and he answered it.

“Hotch? . . . Yeah just now. . . . Okay, I'll bring her in. . . . Yep, see you soon.”

He hung up and looked at you, a guilty expression on his face.

“I have to take you back to Quantico — uh — headquarters.”

“Okay.”

You stayed quiet the whole car ride. Spencer kept looking over at you, trying to be casual. Nothing felt casual. The way he held you in the bookstore wasn’t casual. The way he ran after a speeding car to protect you wasn’t casual. The way he’d stared into your eyes not long ago was . . . well, something, but not casual. You weren’t quite ready to explore that something yet. 

The ride up in the elevator to the BAU was dead silent. Another instance where elevator music would come in handy. 

Your reflection in the elevator doors was strange. Alien. It wasn’t you. It was as though a ghost was in your body, keeping you upright as you watched from behind your eyes, unable to do anything. It was terrifying.

Then, warmth flooded your hand, Spencer’s fingers intertwined with yours, squeezing gently.

Without turning your head, you glanced at his reflection. He was staring straight ahead, no expression, but his thumb was drawing soft circles on the back of your hand.

Before the doors opened and Spencer’s hand slipped out of yours, you caught a glimpse of yourself again in the reflection, only for a split second. It was still not a you that you’d ever seen before, but for an entirely different reason. There wasn’t fear or worry in your eyes, but something more. The same something you’d seen earlier in the bookstore in Spencer’s. 

Stepping out of the elevator and into the bullpen, you found yourself wondering when this would all be over with.

And definitely, totally, not wishing it might never end.

~

Taglist: @aperrywilliams @mjloveskids666 @dolanfivsosxox @criesinreid @fanficsrmylife @racerparker @sammypotato67 @lukeskisses @reidcrimes @you-had-me-at-hello-dear @l0ve-0f-my-life @thatsonezesty13​ @yourmisosoup

[velveetacrackncheese]

I remember you talking about Angel a little bit ago and how you didn't think he was as bad as everybody else was saying. What makes him appeal to you, I can't really get behind him in all honesty.

So I keep getting asks regarding to clarify my stance on Angel, and while I don’t mind this despite getting asks about it even now from HH fans and non-fans alike, receiving charitable and uncharitable asks and takes simultaneously from both, I might as well answer because I’m getting a bit tired of it. Not on here that often and every time there’s a new ask regarding it and I don’t understand why people want my take on this, despite me having already given one, or the clarification. That being said, my mind has changed a bit on the subject, and I kind of wanna give a small analysis on Angel and how I feel about him now, so here we are.

 Firstly, the debate surrounding Angel Dust is off-putting to me because while I seemingly see both sentiments, I also feel as though they’re both simultaneously wrong. The positions are usually “Angel Dust represents a harmful stereotype that contributes to our marginalization and is a literal walking sex joke and nothing else.” and “Angel Dust is a hooker. A sex worker, prostitute. He’s supposed to be in hell. He’s supposed to be bad and awful. Moron” and really, I dislike both of these takes for rather similar reasons. Reason being is that I feel that it’s addressing the wrong thing here, which is the characterization of Angel, and not really what the over-arching narrative and well, show itself has to say about Angel, and I also feel that the issue here isn’t homophobia as much as it involves vilifying sex work potentially.

My issue with the first take is that obviously, we’ve barely scratched the surface with this character. I will say that the way he was introduced in the pilot was left to be desired. Not that he was offensive or meant to be a major middle finger to the gay community, but simply because we typically see big, larger, main traits of a character in a pilot. In Angel, we primarily see him embodying those things that many of the “HH hate crowd” disliked about him. Upon first introduction, he genuinely does come off as a stereotype, something that was written solely for the purpose of being “the gay” and nothing else admittedly. While said analysis is probably inaccurate, I don’t blame anyone for initially feeling that way, and coming to their own conclusions. Recognize that everybody’s opinion on Angel is all pretty much based on first impressions, because we only have so much to say about him at the moment. There isn’t even a show. It’s the pilot. Things even now can still change greatly. However, Angel in the show, being a prostitute, and a sex worker, seem very much rooted in his character primarily because many of his own personal struggles also lie in the fact that he’s someone who’s also victim to sexual assault, exploitation, which obviously has connections to his occupation. We can say that many of his actions are rooted in not only his job, and experiences, but also the mask he wears to hide his pain. I feel like to simply look at that and say “Fuck Angel Dust, he’s harmful.” is simultaneously neglecting a silent minority in the gay community that genuinely deals with the hardships of sex work in real life. You don’t see that type of humanity brought to the forefront in regards to gay sex workers in media. They’re usually there to be mocked at, and while you could say Angel comes off that way initially, additional context in the comics and Addict suggests otherwise. He’s not Alastor. He doesn’t have all these special abilities aside from being able to manifest guns and bombs, and probably shoot webs out of his anus or something. Angel is in pain, and in a situation where he feels stuck. He feels like he’s on a leash and only copes in the way he knows how, that being hedonistic actions and such. As to what the general narrative and world of Hazbin might have to say? We don’t know, and that could vary. We don’t have a conclusion as to what the world of Hazbin has to say about Angel, and whether or not he needs to be “redeemed” which is an issue I take on its own. I will get into that shortly.

I take issue with the second take for similar reasons as previously stated, but it has less to do with the analysis coming from the people who say this sort of thing, and more about what it reveals about the people saying “He’s a prostitute. He’s supposed to be in hell. He’s baaaaad.” Because it shows a type of reactionary sentiment that justifies the villainizing of sex workers, and also goes to show that they probably appreciate Angel’s character for the same reason those who despise Angel, are critical of. They find him funny potentially because in their mind, Angel is something to be mocked. Because he’s a “freak” in the sense that he’s this awful, slutty monster, seemingly missing the intentions behind writing Angel the way he is, as a way of potentially showing a sign of sympathy towards the livelihoods of real life sex workers. Instead these people probably don’t think too highly of people who work in that industry and view them as a circus act, the same way they might view Angel as the funny token gay man, and it shows that people appreciate this character for very different reasons. Not to mention, this take is not a very good defense. Does someone being in hell necessarily necessitate them to be “offensive?” A very non-offensive, non-confrontational, seemingly polite person could be the most awful person when the optics of civility are stripped away... Like a politician.

However, I end up pondering about what the narrative itself has to say about Angel needing to be redeemed. Because of the pilot’s highlight on his hypersexual manner, I end up asking myself what he needs to be redeemed from. His sex work and sexual nature certainly doesn’t make him a bad person. His violence probably does, but there’s so much emphasis on the sexual side of him and not the “gangster” side of him, and suggesting that people who are exploited by the industry they work in need to be “redeemed” almost insinuates like they’re doing something wrong. As if it potentially shares the same reactionary sentiment about sex workers that those who view Angel as a laughing stock do. Now, if “redemption” is a euphemism for “rehabilitation” then I would view this differently. However, in the pilot, the term “rehabilitation” and “redemption” are both used, seemingly interchangeably, despite both of these terms having different meanings. In terms of Hazbin, since we’re in hell, which is based on the Christian mythos (most likely also inspired by other cultural interpretations of a bad afterlife) “redemption” here is probably referring to the absolving of sins and what have you, although we don’t really know what Hazbin’s criteria for being worthy of Hell is, and said criteria is also never questioned. We just know that everybody there in hell is supposed to be bad as the latter say, and that’s that. They’re all “sinful”, all worthy of being considered bad people despite some clearly not being so... awful. Vaggie isn’t so awful. She’s a bit angry, but for a good reason. Why is she in hell with literal murderers, homophobes, gangsters, etc? Of course we don’t know much about her yet, but she seems substantially more innocent than say Alastor, who’s a literal serial killer. But according to fans, she’s in hell. So she’s bad. Bad people go to hell, and hell is where the bad people reside in, and all are in need of rehabilitation or “redemption” in order to achieve/attain heaven. (obligatory jojo reference heehee) Issue being that what’s good and bad is subjective, and despite nobody being morally perfect, they’re just in this place together with no real chance of redemption, while being told by the dominant structure and culture in hell that nobody really even wants to be “redeemed”, despite nobody wanting to be there, and probably housing some regret, only to be chained down by a culture of doubt, and many of these inhabitants probably not even really needing to be “redeemed.” There are people who are there for probably very irrational reasons, like stealing some stuff from a grocery store or something. Hell, even if someone is a murderer, what if they murdered in self-defense? Or trying to protect their family? Are they, a sinner, in need of being absolved, and to confess their sin of wanting to survive? Many “sinners” are probably people who come from unfortunate circumstances, and are forced to adapt to certain conditions that force them to do things that are considered “sinful.”

Of course, this is all very assumptive. For all we know, Hazbin could very well go into detail about this type of thing, and I’d be all for it. I feel like a lot of the former critique I’ve mentioned would be cleared away and people would be able to actually make a formed opinion on characters like Angel instead of the typical surface level takes I usually see. I’d be highly disappointed if the writers of Hazbin didn’t go down this route and question the very nature of this Heaven and Hell dichotomy and the moral code and structure presented. I have to clarify though. I’m not “behind” Angel. I acknowledge his character and how he’s written, and honestly thought the way he was shown initially was sub-par, and still believe that. My irritation revolves around fans and non-fans alike thinking they have a finalized idea of what Angel is, when they don’t, and then you have Youtubers making videos pretending it’s flawless while making statements about how stereotypes are apparently not harmful at all while making the assumption that every harsh criticism is a result of people wanting to ALL destroy Vivienne’s career when that’s just as reductive as saying that Viv is evil for shit she did years ago.

Aside from this, there’s still other things about Hazbin too. Vaggie even now I still can’t really see how she’s in anyway offensive or purposely off-putting. She’s angry because she has to react to a world who wants to take advantage of her, and her girlfriend. I’d be pissed too. She isn’t angry because she’s written to be the angry latina (despite Viv’s dumb tweet about “I’M A FIERY LATINA TOO WEE”). Alastor is a subject of discussion too because of the whole voodoo thing despite him passing as very, very caucasian and white, while also claims of cultural appropriation due to the certain iconography used when Alastor exhibits his power while playing into that “spooky voodoo” stereotype. I don’t have much to say on this because I’m simply not that familiar the religious practice aside from it having origins in Western Africa, and the Caribbean. Some say Alastor is biracial but that isn’t confirmed I don’t think. Some people say Hazbin is bad because of a Jeffery Dahmer joke, and saying that Katie Killjoy is proof of homophobia despite her being pointed out as an actual piece of shit with zero standards.

It’s all crazy. I look forward to what the Hazbin crew do with Hazbin, Helluva Boss, and especially Zoophobia. My mind is still open.

[grilledcheem]

prompt : teen richie does something minor to piss eddie off and eddie gives him silent treatment all day but richie keeps annoying eddie to get him to talk to him which angers him more

this got away from me so uh it’s almost 2k. enjoy!

support me on my kofi

read on ao3

“Eddiebear has a teddy bear!” Richie’s voice rings out as he enters the clubhouse one summer afternoon, Eddie close behind him. The other Losers look up from the board game they were playing to watch the two friends argue.

“You asshole!” Eddie shouts, pushing Richie away as he tries to hug him from the side. “You said you wouldn’t tell anyone!”

Richie pouts a little, lip quivering in false shame. He sweeps his left arm in front of the two of them, gesturing to their friends. “It’s just us Losers, Eds, no need to get worked up about a silly toy.”

The look in Eddie’s eyes makes Richie regret his words as soon as they come out. There is anger there; blazing, heated, constant. There is anger and there is something that Richie could swear looks like sadness. He tries to backpedal, to apologize for teasing him but Eddie won’t look at him anymore. Eddie’s moved to sit between Bill and Mike, forcing his way into the circle. None of the other Losers say anything; they’re used to the two arguing but it’s never been this serious.

They all agree to start a new game so that Richie and Eddie aren’t just sitting there watching Stan win Monopoly. Richie suggests Twister and everyone groans; everyone except Eddie. Eddie is silent even though he usually speaks up against Richie’s insistence on playing that game. Richie sees this as his chance to tease Eddie, tricking him into speaking with him.

“Aw, Eds,” he coos. “No complaints about Twister? Guess you’ve finally succumbed to my charm.” He says this with a wink, wiggling his eyebrows at Eddie. Eddie’s face stays neutral as he turns to Bev and says, “I was thinking we could play Clue; does that sound alright?” Bev smiles, knowing that Eddie doesn’t want to talk to Richie right now, although she doesn’t know why. She agrees and soon the rest of the group, except for Richie, are all arguing over which character they want.

Richie hates Clue. He hates how he has to sit and think when games shouldn’t make you think, they should just be fun. There aren’t even enough characters for the whole group to play. He points this out and the look Eddie gives him tells him that that was the whole point of him picking it. A little hurt but mostly confused, Richie resigns himself to watching the game but it’s hard to focus when his mind keeps wandering to thoughts on why Eddie is so mad at him. He thinks back to when he saw the teddy bear, not seeing how anything that they talked about last night when he had snuck over could explain why Eddie reacted to weird. He wants to talk to Bill or Stan about it but they’re both so engrossed in the game and Richie doesn’t want to spoil their fun. To entertain himself and keep his thoughts from focusing on Eddie for too long, he starts commentating the game.

“Oh ho, my good chap,” he says, putting on a terrible English accent as Stan, who is playing as Colonel Mustard, brings Eddie’s character, Mr. Green, into the library. “Thank you for joining me in this wondrous library as we hunt for this mysterious killer who, by the way, is not me.” Bev and Mike chuckle under their breath as Richie carries on. “Quite right, quite right. Now would you do me the honor and the privilege of allowing me to bore you to death with a recitation of the facts?”

Eddie slams his hand down on the floor, startling the group and jostling some of the pieces. He doesn’t say anything but Richie can tell that it’s taking all of his willpower to not yell at him. Bill looks at Richie and gives him a sympathetic smile. “M-Maybe it’s best that you d-d-don’t commen-com-commentate, Rich.” Richie looks at Eddie for a moment, his hands shaking slightly as he realizes just how mad Eddie is with him. “Yeah, I guess you’re right, Bill.” He sits there for a moment, looking down at the board, at the game that had no room for him, and he sighs. “Actually, I’m just gonna head out. I, uh, just remembered something my mom wanted me to do.”

Everyone but Eddie murmurs their goodbyes as Richie leaves the clubhouse. Some part of him thinks Eddie will climb up after him, tell him to come back, tell him that he wasn’t really mad, he was just messing around. By the time Richie is on his bike and pedaling away, that part of him is gone.

It’s 7pm and the Tozier’s have just finished dinner; on any other summer evening, Richie would be running out the door to go sneak into Eddie’s room. Sometimes they’d just sit and talk for a while, maybe play a game or two. Sometimes Richie would spend the night, setting the alarm on Eddie’s clock so he can leave before Mrs. Kaspbrak finds them tangled in bed together. Platonically, of course, Richie’s mind reminds him and a hollow feeling takes over. He had been trying to decide whether to go over to Eddie’s tonight despite their argument earlier. It might give him a chance to apologize for real. It might set Eddie off again and he’d never want to see Richie again.

He’s washing the dishes from dinner in the sink, something that he does every night before heading to Eddie’s because he may be crass and make terrible “your mom” jokes but he loves his mother and he loves helping her out around the house. It makes him feel useful. Once the last plate has been washed, dried, and put away, Richie decides that if he doesn’t go over to Eddie’s tonight, he may not go over ever again. Dramatic, yes, but Richie knows it’s true. He hugs his parents before he leaves, being careful to not slam the door on his way out.

He gets to Eddie’s in just a few minutes, despite walking slower. He is nervous, more nervous than he’s been in a while. Eddie is his best friend and, somehow, some way, he really hurt him today. Richie bends over and picks up a small pebble, holding it gently in his palm before throwing it at Eddie’s window. At first, nothing happens. No one comes to the window; no noise comes from the house. Then, just as Richie’s about to grab another pebble, the window slides open. There’s no greeting, just silence and Richie takes that as his cue to climb up.

Once he’s inside the room, he looks around, eyes still adjusting to the slight difference in light. Eddie’s room is just like it was the night before; clean, not a speck of dust or a sock out of place. The only thing missing, Richie notices, is the teddy bear that had been sitting on Eddie’s quilt the night before. In its place sits Eddie, a scowl on his face.

“H-Hey, Eds,” he whispers, wincing when Eddie’s scowl hardens. “Look, man, I just wanted to apologize.” At this, Eddie’s gaze softens just a little bit. “I shouldn’t have told the others about the bear. I guess I just didn’t realize it was such a sore spot for you.” Richie chuckles, hands awkwardly hanging at his sides. “I still don’t understand why you got so mad but I won’t talk about it again, I promise.” He holds out his pinky, an offering of sorts. A pinky promise isn’t as sacred as a blood pact but it was the next best thing. Eddie sighs and grips Richie’s pinky with his own, pulling him close enough that Richie can see the wetness in Eddie’s eyes.

“There’s some things you don’t joke about, Trashmouth,” Eddie says, his voice thick and wet as if he had been crying before Richie arrived. Richie nods, smiling because damn, he had missed Eddie’s voice. He had heard it earlier today, when he was talking to the others, but there was something special in Eddie’s voice whenever he spoke to Richie, something different that wasn’t there for anyone else.

They spend the rest of the night playing games and reading one of Eddie’s new comics, each of them holding one side of the book so they could read it at the same time. Once they’re finished, Eddie sneaks Richie into the bathroom so they can get ready for bed. Eddie hides a toothbrush for Richie in his room so his mother doesn’t find out and this makes Richie feel special. Eddie is willing to risk making his mother mad just to be with Richie, one-on-one and outside of view of everyone else.

They’re in Eddie’s room now with practically no space between them where they lay, shoulder to shoulder, on Eddie’s bed. Their hands are resting at their sides and Richie fights down an urge to reach that one inch over and hold Eddie’s hand. He can tell that Eddie is still a little tense from earlier that day and he thinks about bringing it up again but before he can say anything, Eddie brings it up first.

“My dad gave me that bear,” he whispers, his voice so quiet that Richie almost doesn’t hear him. “It was right before he died so it’s the last gift I have from him. I just, it’s embarrassing but it’s the last piece of him I have so…”

Richie wants to roll over and hug Eddie tight, squeezing him until he can’t breathe. Of course Eddie would be upset about being teased for having the bear; it wasn’t just a bear, it was a memory of his dad. Richie felt more like an asshole than he ever had in his 17 years. “I’m sorry, Eds, it was really shitty of me to make fun of you for it.”

Eddie turns onto his side, facing Richie with a melancholic smile. “It’s okay, ‘Chee. You didn’t know.”

“That doesn’t matter!” Richie sits up now, too worked up to stay laying down. “It was shitty of me, no matter what. I-I don’t, I don’t know why I did it. I knew it would upset you but I was like ‘oh, but it’ll be funny and he’ll end up laughing too.’ Bullshit. I, god, Eds, I’m such a shitty friend.”

Eddie pulls Richie back down to lay beside him, gripping his face between his hands. “You are not a shitty friend, Richie. You made a mistake. People do that, you know.” He says this with a small smile, eyes soft and warm. Richie finds himself leaning forward on instinct, nose brushing against Eddie’s. “Thanks, Eds.”

Minutes pass by as they lay there, nose to nose. Richie’s almost worked up the courage to kiss Eddie when he yawns, mouth stretching wide. Eddie pushes him away, laughing quietly. “God, your breath smells even after brushing your teeth!” They both giggle and then Eddie yawns, making Richie snort with laughter. As they’re trying to keep quiet, hoping that Eddie’s mom is asleep already, Richie thinks about the bear again.

“Hey,” he whispers. “You know, if you want to go get your bear, I, uh, that’s okay with me.” Eddie tenses for a moment before hugging Richie tight. He gets up and goes to his closet, sliding open the door and wincing when it squeaks. A few seconds later, Eddie is climbing back into bed beside Richie, bear securely in his arms.

“Goodnight, Richie,” he hums, eyes already fluttering shut. Richie, his courage from earlier not quite gone, leans forward and kisses Eddie’s forehead.

“Goodnight, Eddie.”

[scaryscarecrows]

Before You Put My Body in the Cold Ground (Take Some Time to Warm It With Your Hands)

AN: ‘Roots and Leaves’ related. Title from Brand New’s ‘Sowing Season’.

* * *

Bruce does not allow himself to speculate on the nature of the Light. Gordon turns it on for anything from ‘take this piece of evidence’ to ‘we have a new serial killer’ to ‘there’s been an Arkham breakout. Again’.

It isn’t, at least, an automatic warning sign of mayhem.

Gordon, as per usual, is standing near it, soaking up the warmth, when Bruce lands silently on the rooftop behind him. Contrary to popular opinion, he doesn’t come in from the back to be dramatic. He comes in from the back to avoid taking blinding, agonizing light to the eyes.

“Commissioner.”

Gordon jumps and swears.

“Every time…Dove Marquis wants to see you. Says she’s got temporary custody of one of your-and I’m quoting, here-‘fifty thousand children’, and would like you to come and get him.”

Well. This is unexpected.

Dick and Tim are accounted for on the way, Dick covering the night shift for a friend and Tim…interviewing…some of Harley Quinn’s on-again-off-again henchmen. Which leaves Jason.

Jim had not implied it was anything imminently fatal. And Jason, the last anybody knew, hadn’t actively picked a fight with anybody overly dangerous. It’s likely that he’s got some sort of mild, but unpleasant, injury that’s preventing him from getting home. 

That sounds weak to Bruce’s own ears. With Marquis calling Gordon about this, it’s because it’s serious or because Jason asked, and if it’s the latter…

Marquis is on her balcony with a cigarette when he arrives. There’s no sign of Jason, but surely that’s not a bad thing. Surely. It’s pouring rain, it’s late…

She looks rattled, and she keeps twisting around to glance through her doors. The feeling of unease grows, and he scans the building. The only figure in the apartment is curled up on the couch, asleep. He deems it safe to land on the balcony railing.

“Jesus-!” Her cigarette lands in a puddle with a hiss! “Good God, that’s creepy…are you socially awkward, or just an asshole?”

“Why did you tell Gordon to contact me.”

Marquis rolls her eyes.

“Asshole it is...because he asked for you. So you have to take him.” As though he wouldn’t. “I don’t know what happened. I don’t wanna know. I found him wandering around a few blocks away. He was throwing up dirt a-and fucking worms, and I spent a good forty minutes pulling shards of wood out of his hands.”

Sounds like someone thought it would be a good idea to bury him alive. Bruce will disabuse them of that notion as soon as he gets Jason home and under Alfred’s care.

“Hn.”

They go in. Jason’s scrunched up on the couch with an electric blanket over him, face smushed into a pillow. His hands are wrapped from fingertip to wrist, and he’s shivering, just a little. Bruce is more concerned about the fact that he’s not waking. He’s a light sleeper, always has been, and for him to be uncaring, unknowing, that he’s not alone…

What happened to you tonight?

He whimpers and scrunches up under the blanket, hands jerking, and Marquis says softly, “Want me to try and wake him up, or do you want to risk it?”

Neither, preferably.

The whimpers stop and he goes still, sniffling softly. Bruce sighs, calls for the car-it’ll be here by the time he gets downstairs-and pulls Jason into a fireman’s carry.

“Thank you,” he manages to say. “For. For watching him.”

“Take it up with Harley,” she says shortly, fishing out her cigarettes and heading for her porch. “Tell him I hope he feels better soon, huh?”

Jason stirs, a little, when he settles him into the Batmobile, but when Bruce tries to talk to him, his face scrunches up and he closes his eyes again. He’s tempted, he really is, to go after Harley now; Jason’s clearly all right, not even a hint of a low-grade fever, but…

But. He could have inhaled something, he could have been drugged. Bruce needs to take him home and have Alfred look at him. Harley can wait.

And this way, he’ll be more likely to keep his temper when he tracks her down.

He tousles Jason’s hair, covers him with the cape-he’s shivering now that he’s away from the electric blanket-and makes sure he’s secure before hopping into the driver’s seat and calling Alfred.

“I need you to prep the med bay,” he says. Alfred does that thing where he doesn’t really sigh, but he may as well.

“What happened this time, Master Bruce.”

It isn’t always his fault. Arguing will get him nowhere, but it really isn’t always his fault.

“I’ve got Jason,” he says, narrowly avoiding a fire hydrant that really is located too close to the curb. “He’s. It appears that somebody attempted a live burial.”

Alfred is silent.

“I will be ready and waiting for you, Master Bruce,” he says at last. “Drive safely.”

He does. Mostly. He takes care, anyway, not to come screaming into the cave in a cloud of dust and burnt rubber. Jason’s still unconscious in the back, but he wakes, a little, when he’s picked up.

“B…?”

“Hn.”

“You came.” The surprise in his voice hurts. “You really came for me.”

“Yes.” He sets him on a gurney. The clothes aren’t his, and they don’t fit him well. There’s small cuts on his face and neck, and his hands are all but mummified. “Jay—”

“My fault, I should’a—”

What?

“Jason—”

“She said it was safe,” he whispers. “She said. She said.”

And then Alfred is there, shooing Bruce out of the way and humming, “Let’s see what’s happened, Master Jason…”

Jason blinks at them for a minute before his eyes roll back. Bruce has no idea what happened. He doubts Jason would have trusted Harley Quinn. Pitied, almost certainly, but trusted? No. Somebody else was involved, somebody he doesn’t know about.

Bruce doesn’t like not knowing about things.

There’s a bump on the side of the boy’s head, and when Alfred unwraps his hands...they’re not a pretty sight. There’s a few nails missing and the remaining ones are badly broken. They’re riddled with cuts and punctures and oh. Coffin. There must have been a coffin, or at least a large wooden crate.

How did this happen?

“--ce. Master Bruce.”

“Sorry, Alfred.”

“Move aside, please...thank you. It’s a miracle his fingers are still intact.”

Bruce often thinks it’s a miracle Jason’s alive at all, after...after everything. And now, under the stark light of the medical bay, that idea comes back in force. He can’t place most of these scars, even though he knows what caused them. That one’s from a crowbar; he’s got a few of those himself. They’re a cheap, easy weapon. Or that one, there, that’s from a knife. There’s more than a few gunshot wounds, far more than he ever had from his time as Robin, and…

“There we are, Master Jason,” Alfred says, forcefully cheery, even though Jason’s not awake to care anyway. “I’m sure your father will take you upstairs.”

Some father he is. This is his fault, none of this should have happened.

He wants Harley Quinn. And once Jason’s settled in bed, he’s going to find her.

* * *

Bruce decides, when he’s back in the car (he isn’t hiding from Alfred’s disapproval, he’s just…), that he’ll start his hunt for Harley after getting what he can out of Marquis. He’s hoping she’ll be more cooperative about this than she’s been about past cases, given the circumstances. Besides, Penguin’s not involved (theoretically), so she doesn’t have any reason to withhold information, not really.

She’s still outside, but no longer smoking, when he lands on the balcony.

“Why are you here.”

“What happened.”

“Get lost.”

“I need to find Harley, but I need to know what happened.”

For a minute, he thinks she’ll just go inside. But she sighs, mutters something about too many goddamn vigilantes and never thought I’d miss the weirdo with mommy issues, and gets up off the bench.

“I don’t know,” she says. “I found him wandering around a few blocks away, and he said Harley did it, and he was really, really upset about some woman named Sheila, but I don’t know who that is and at this point, I don’t care.”

Sheila, Sheila...Bruce knows of a Sheila, but...no, that’s too much of a coincidence...there’s no such thing as coincidence...and Jay’s always had near-comically bad luck. Rather like the Baudelaire Orphans.

“Where exactly did you find him.”

“Ah...over in Sunshine Plaza.”

Bruce has always wondered who, exactly, named that plaza. And why.

“Thank you.”

“Now are you gonna go?”

He can take a hint. And also there’s nothing else he needs here.

He brings up his file on Sheila Haywood on the glide over. She’s still living exactly where she was the last time she was on his radar, when he’d been desperate. He’d thought that maybe...either Jason had found out, somehow, and gone after her, or that her connections to the Joker would…

He’d been desperate.

Sheila’s apartment isn’t far from here, and Bruce’s unease only grows. The odds of there being another Sheila are...low...and Jason…

He lets himself in through the bedroom window. There’s a body lying in the front hall, but no other signs of life.

The body is Sheila Haywood. Bruce sighs-he doesn’t know why he expected otherwise, really-and sets up a virtual crime scene.

Sheila died from a bullet to the head, maybe...five hours ago, give or take. The shooter was waiting for her; she’s still wearing her raincoat, and her purse is sitting on the ground where it fell when she died.

There’s a gun near her hand. It hasn’t been fired-it’s not even loaded-but hers are the only prints on it.

Hm.

There was a struggle, at some point. The end table by the couch is tipped over and there’s blood on the carpet. The blood is both Jason’s and an unknown-likely a hired hench-and there’s a hint of Quinn’s perfume still lingering in the air.

So. Harley-or her goons-probably shot Sheila when she pulled the gun. That doesn’t entirely explain her involvement, but Bruce wonders if Harley wasn’t trying to get her to come back. She didn’t take Joker’s death well, and he knows she’s been grasping for any last connection to him. Sometimes he feels sorry for her.

But not today. Today, her insanity killed a woman and could have cost Jason his life, and Bruce is not happy about it.

He calls Gordon about Sheila before following the perfume outside. There’s not enough to track over a long distance, but it does lead him to the parking garage...and a set of tire tracks.

The first place the tracks go is a park, maybe two blocks away. Reasonable; Jason was either unconscious or restrained, but keeping him in a small car would have been risky. The car was parked, and…

Oh.

Oh, dear God.

He doesn’t need to track anything to see the tear in the earth, the thick wooden shards and the torn roots. The scanner says the disruption goes down six feet, to a cheap coffin.

Oh, Jay-lad, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.

His ear crackles and Alfred’s voice hits him, colder than Freeze’s gun.

“Master Bruce.” Oh no. “What do you think you are doing.”

“I need to find Quinn.”

“You need to be with your son, who has asked for you twice tonight.” The uncomfortable feeling in his stomach is a response to the grave in front of him, and that’s all. “Now.”

Alfred uses-really uses-the No Argument tone very rarely. That’s probably why it’s so effective.

That said, Harley’s likely gone to ground for the time being. Big to-dos aren’t her style, not anymore. Besides, he can put feelers out from home. And maybe Tim will find something.

* * *

Jason’s asleep when Bruce nudges his door open, face buried in the pillow. Looking at him now, Bruce can almost convince himself that none of the last few years has happened, that he’s just...home from college for the weekend. But then he rolls over, bringing the brand into the low light, and the illusion’s shattered.

“Has he woken up at all?”

“Once,” Alfred says, apparently happier now that Bruce is here. “He wasn’t terribly happy with the room being so dark, hence the pineapple lamp.” Bruce can only imagine. “He wondered where you were, but then decided to go back to sleep.”

“I’ll watch him, Alfred.”

He’s sure he’s imagining the it’s about bloody time aura Alfred is radiating. It’s been a long night, that’s all.

“Very good, sir. Call me if you need me.”

Jason doesn’t stir when Bruce sits down on the edge of the bed. Good. It’s...it’s better that he get some sleep.

(Bruce doesn’t want a fight tonight.)

How did this happen, Jay? What am I missing?

He’ll find out. He’ll find Harley, he’ll make this...well, there’s no making this right, but...he’ll find her.

God, he’s tired of clowns trying to take his son.

THE END

[loveafterthefact]

Love After the Fact Chapter 57: Wasting Time with a New Friend

Lotor makes some new friends. Together, they discover that word of Lance and Keith's union has reached video game developers in the worst, best way.

Featuring Leakira in the role of comic relief (Not to offend Leakira fans, this is meant to be a fun, happy place. I just thought it might be funny little detail) XD

First  Previous  Next

Lotor finds them sleeping in a hallway. A much-needed distraction.

More specifically, it’s an adolescent Olkari with orange feelers, dressed in green and white garb stained with red dust. They’re incredibly small, even for a smaller species. Pretty adorable, like a wolf cub.

So obviously he nudges them with his foot.

“Can I help you?” the kit growls, amber eyes glaring up at him.

“You’re sleeping in a hallway.”

“And? What’s your point?”

“... You know what? I’m not really sure.”

With a groan, the kit sits up, tugging on their feelers. “So what are you up to, Mr. Prince?”

“Oh not much. Wandering around, looking for trouble.” He’s actually looking for a distraction, but that’s almost the same thing as trouble.

“Trouble, huh?” The Olkari smirks. “I’m Pidge. Lance’s resident tech genius and vent crawler- I mean spy.”

“Ah-haha, I see. You’re one of his ‘associates’.” Lotor grins, helps Pidge to their feet.

“Yes. Working for Lance usually involves some level of trouble. What are the princes up to today, anyway?”

“Lance is with Allura. She’s having a hard morning. Keith is with Thace, our emergency medic and reproductive specialist.”

“Oh, really? Making sure his junk works?”

“That’s the idea. Why?”

“It’d be awesome to have some dirt on Keith. He’s just so perfect.” Pidge skips down the hallway, a curious prince following behind them. “The worst thing he’s done is drink a bit too much, find his happy place at a party, and get really snuggly with Lance.”

Following Pidge into what should have been an old, empty storeroom, Lotor’s eyes widen in surprise. The typically ignored room is set up with monitors and a work table covered with Balmeran crystals and a few other tools.

“Where did you get some of these tools?” he asks, eyeing a choice laser of Galra design.

“I crawled through the tunnels underneath the actual labs and stole them. I’m welcome in the labs, of course. I just don’t want to share my work with them. The field of science is rife with thieves.”

“You found the tunnels already?” Lotor stares. There are tunnels all under the mountain, his ancestors making the massive peak into an insect hive. There are escape tunnels and hidden caches and underground pools and even a forge made of volcanic glass that he discovered as a small boy.

He still likes to go down there on the rare occasion he can find the time. Someday, he’ll take his children down there, and tell them all about the stories carved into the ancient walls.

“Yep! Anyway, let’s see if I can hack into Thace’s equipment. And by that I mean give me like, thirty ticks because I can definitely do it.” While Pidge types away on their computer, Lotor sits himself on the floor, eyeing a faint square cut into the stone. Most people don’t notice, don’t know to look for the fine edges carved into the floor. “Ooh… Interesting.”

“What’s interesting?” Lotor asks. “Is Keith okay?”

“You really care for him, don’t you?” Amber eyes smile at him, intuitive.

“Of course I do! He’s my cousin! And my friend!” And he has more than his fair share of health problems. Lotor himself was not a healthy kit, so he understands the worries that his cousin might have.

“Aw-w. You’re just a big ol’ sweetheart, aren’t ya?” Pidge turns back to their computer. “What’s interesting is that Keith is… surprisingly healthy. His weight and body mass index are good… Thace is optimistic about a successful pregnancy.”

“Why is that interesting?” Lotor scratches his head, frowning a little.

“Because our boys requested contraceptives, probably due to health concerns.”

“Miscarriage risks are higher for him. That’s partially due to his sex, and partially due to his condition. Do you think they’ll use contraceptives?”

“Pfft. No. They’re young, they’re stupid, and they both want pups. I doubt Lance can keep it in his pants.”

“What about Keith?”

“He’s shy.” Pidge shrugs like that explains everything. It kind of does. Keith’s priorities are probably more of the cuddling variety than the ‘aggressive hugging’ variety. “Can I have some of your blood?”

“Hm? Uh… How much blood?”

“I dunno. A few vials? Maybe I’ll swab your cheek too? It might help with my experiments.”

“And what might those be?”

“I’m trying to invent Altean-friendly prosthetics. It’s not going well. Alteans are stupid inside and out.” Pidge gathers their tools to stick him, and Lotor stares. This tiny little Olkari is far more than they appear. “Who do you think will kill Lance for getting Keith pregnant? Krolia or Shiro?”

But they're young, still playful and carefree.

“Hm… My money’s on Krolia. Or the creepy friend.”

“Adam? Oh, he’s softer than he looks. More likely he’ll live vicariously through their children and terrorize anyone who tries to mess with them.” Pidge sticks a swab in his cheek as they fill a second vial with his blood. “Your fangs are adorable.”

“Thanks?” Lotor regards them. “So you do science, you do people… What don’t you do?”

“Relationships.” Pidge cleans the crook of his arm, bandaging the spot where they bled him. “And genders. Those are for more primitive individuals.”

Lotor laughs. “More highly evolved, are you?”

“Exactly. Unlike Alteans. Stupid, scaley assholes with stupid, cranky cells.”

“I don’t get it. What exactly is the problem?” Lotor peers over Pidge’s shoulder as they examine his cells under their microscope.

“Not sure, but Alteans have some odd properties that make their biology incompatible with metal, coral, bone, wood, and other prosthetic materials. When used, the Altean’s cells refuse to accept the forgein material, even if it’s biocompatible. Hence, their cells are stupid.”

“So it would seem. How are my cells?”

“Hm… I'll have to run some of my own, secret tests. I may try to culture your skin cells to figure out how it all works.”

“Have at it. Can I interest you in a secret?”

“Always!” The young Olkari’s eyes shine, eager to learn. To know. A person after his own heart.

“Most of Altea’s technology is rediscovered. Thousands of decaphoebs ago, there was what’s known as The Forgetting. The Altean’s powers were quite suddenly drastically altered, and their society descended into chaos. Much of their technology was lost, then rediscovered within the last few milophoebs.”

“No fucking way!”

“Way. This includes their lauded Teludav technology.”

“Those fakers! How have I not heard of this?”

“I know! It’s their best kept secret. Also, beneath Mount Sil’brana is a petrified forest.”

“Oh, that’s so cool!” Pidge makes a note on their datapad. “I wonder… I don’t know if I could interface with that or not. Probably not, since it’s no longer organic, but then again perhaps I could reach the echo?”

“Echo?”

“All organic life leaves behind an echo. Sometimes, I can reach that echo. I’d be great at solving murders!”

“Well, if ever I am murdered, do find my killer. I’m sure my wife would appreciate it.”

“Unless she did the murdering,” Pidge snickers.

“Some days, it wouldn’t surprise me at all. She’d say it’s my fault, but…”

“Pregnancy.”

“Yeah. How do you think Keith will be when he gets pregnant?”

“He’s relatively mild-mannered as long as Lance keeps him happy, so either unbelievably psychotic or unbearably sweet.”

“He is really sweet. I honestly didn’t expect it when he first arrived. Lance is a little… He’s reserved, but also high-strung at the same time?”

“He definitely can be. But he can also be very playful. Those two are either quiet and reserved together, or cutting up and goofing off together. But Lance is the high-strung one, for sure. Keith just wants to know whose head to crack open. Lance wants to know every single little detail about everything.”

“So he’s a control freak.”

“Little bit, yeah. We’ve all got our thing.” Pidge smiles. “But Lance gave me a home when mine was lost. He had no reason to do that. He didn’t know what I was capable of.”

“I had assumed you were on Altea for research?” Lotor's curious, but won't push.

“No. Though I do enjoy research. For example, I have the new Phantasm Killbot game. I just got to the first visual novel part where they introduce the characters and their little side plots and all. Wanna help me out? For research?” The Olkari holds up a controller.

“Yeah alright. Anything for research.” Lotor takes the controller, waits for the character introduction screen. He’s played this game before. “Player one… Leandro.”

“Player Two… Akira.”

The screen loads.

“Uh… That’s… Interesting. Is that- Does that look like Lance to you?” It really does, at least to Lotor. The only difference is that ‘Leandro’ has brown hair and his scales are a very pale blue.

“Wow, that’s weird. Okay. Let’s see where this goes- Oh my fuck, this is going to be good.”

Lotor can’t help but agree, staring at a screen of a smirking ‘Leandro’ lounging with a wide-eyed Galra presumably named ‘Akira’. The Galra has purple hair and golden irises, dressed in what might loosely be referred to as clothing.

It’s exceptionally weird, even weirder given that Akira is the name of Keith’s father, Lotor’s uncle.

“I cannot wait to tell my cousin about this,” Lotor breathes, coming to the realization of exactly what’s before him.

“Yes! We have to! Right now!” Pidge stands, tugs on his arm.

“Well, let’s not be too hasty.” Lotor stares at the screen, that mischievous part of his brain clicking and whirring. “I mean, we have to do our research, right?”

“You know…” Pidge taps their chin. “You might be onto something.”

“I mean it’s just courtesy, right? Making sure we can give them all the information we possibly can?”

“You’re absolutely right. Okay, so you get first choice for dialogue and it looks like Not-Keith has a prompt for us.”

“Oh, gods. Okay, I am so sorry, Keith… Let’s see, here.”

…

Akira: We can’t keep meeting like this. What if people find out?

Leandro: I’m a prince, my sweet. I do what I want.

Akira: But you could be killed!

Leandro: You’re worth dying for.

Leandro: It’s my fault, anyway. I just couldn’t resist you.

Akira: It’s not your fault. I let you have me.

Leandro: You should let me have you again.

Akira: Please… I need it…

*Kiss Passionately*

Leandro: Oh, my sweet. You’re in season!

Akira: Make love to me, and I will give you a son.

…

“I feel dirty,” Lotor mutters. “This is what’s passing for entertainment right now?”

“It’s so bad! I love it!” Pidge snickers.

“Lance is going to be mortified.”

“No, he won’t.” The two new friends turn to see Adam leaning in the doorway, smirking.

“And why, pray tell, is that?” Lotor asks, one eyebrow almost reaching his hairline.

“Lance is bigger than that. He’ll be filled with a sense of… well-being.”

“Oh, gross! Adam!” Pidge chucks a wrench at the Altean’s head, the trio laughing as he dodges, then retrieves it for them. “I don’t want to hear about my friend’s dick!”

“Am I wrong?”

“No, and I hate it.” Pidge drags Adam to the floor, sits in his lap. “Okay, you can help us. What should Leandro say next? ‘A daughter would be fine’ or ‘Honor me with the gift of your flesh’?”

“Who the quiznak wrote this?” Adam mutters. “And we want ‘Honor me with the gift of your flesh.’”

“I don’t know, but I will find out. And kill them,” Lotor mutters.

“Easy on the instincts, Mr. Prince.” Pidge continues to the next cut scene.

“It’s nothing to do with instincts! I just hate that I had to read that!” Lotor sighs. “At least that cut scene is over. Now we have… Brothers, Sven and Kuron? Lots of new characters for this one.”

Adam blinks, gaping at the screen. “What. The fuck-”

...

Allura sighs, running a hand through her loose curls. It's been a rough morning, one that doesn't promise to get easier. A howling chorus of laughter cuts through her stressed thoughts. Cracking open a storeroom, she spies her husband, Adam, and Pidge laughing away at a video game.

"I wOuLd DiE fOr AkIrA," Pidge mocks, cackling.

"Leandro, please!" Lotor laughs, cutting through a false simper as he pretends to swoon. "I couldn't live without you!"

"That's such a toxic sentiment, honestly." Adam shakes his head, but his eyes are glittering bright.

Shaking her head, Allura leans in the doorway, settling a hand on her slightly protruding stomach. Life is never perfect, not for anyone. But seeing her husband playing around and having fun with their friends -his new friends- suggests that everything might still turn out alright. Or at least, not as awful as it sometimes seems.

[jojovelier]

ShuYuka Week, Day 5

S.E.E.S. prepares to face their greatest challenge yet. But Minato might have bitten more than he could chew, and Yukari is not happy about it one bit.

Prompt: School/Tartarus

Rating: T (Some Violence)

Reaping The Reaper

Adamah Block, Dark Hour

Cling…Cling…Cling…Cling… The sound of rattling chains echoed across the room.

Despite the darkness, Minato could feel its presence slowly coming closer and closer, like a serial killer taking their time approaching their next victim, relishing in the fear as the victims dreaded the inevitable.

Minato clenched the handle of his sabre tightly, so tightly that he was sure that his fingernails would end up drawing blood from his skin. A bead of sweat trickled down his brow.

They were approaching the ‘promised day’, January 31st. The whole of S.E.E.S. was exploring the remainder of Tartarus, in preparation for the inevitable conflict against Nyx.

It was then Minato proposed to the group something that could gauge their limits, to see if they could overcome this final hurdle. If they couldn’t, then there’s no way they would be able to defeat Nyx. Everyone knew what their field commander was referring to. And it was terrifying to think about it. Normally, whenever they explored Tartarus, they would always go in teams of four with Minato leading the charge. This was so the rest could conserve energy and provide backup whenever one of them is in no condition to fight. But this was a different case. They needed all the effort they could muster. Everyone was vital for this battle.

Throughout their time exploring Tartarus, Yukari recalled the warnings of staying on a single floor for far too long. She remembered killing intent that she had felt once those chains started clinging.

Emerging from the shadows is a truly terrifying being. It was a colossus, towering over them. It was dressed in a tattered black robe decorated in chains that seemed to be hovering over its torso; a bloodstained burlap sack completely covered its head with the sole exception being an eyehole on the left side of its face which glowed a sinister golden light. In its hands held dual revolvers, the barrels alone were almost as long as its own body.

Yukari froze as she saw the approaching abomination. Throughout her time in S.E.E.S., she had faced down many of the shadows that lurked in Tartarus. But this…! This thing was on a completely different level from anything they had faced. Even the 12 Shadows felt like pleasant daydreams compared to it.

The monster, the Reaper, let out a demonic roar. But it was a sound that no Shadow she had ever encountered could make. It was filled with anger, hate, and above all, a wanton desire for death and destruction.

“Watch out!” Fuuka cried out. “It’s charging an attack!”

As if on cue, the Reaper had started with a Mind Charge, surrounding itself with a glowing aura. It pointed one of its revolvers at the ceiling, firing off a burst of purple energy.

Megidoloan…!

“Scatter!” Minato shouted, though it did not take much for the rest of S.E.E.S. to comply and all of them leapt out of the way as the energy orb crashed on the very spot they were standing on.

“Holy shitballs…!” Junpei could only gape in horror at the smouldering crater formed on the very spot they had previously stood on.

Minato gritted his teeth. This was going to be far more difficult than he had expected, even with Elizabeth’s warnings back in the Velvet Room.

He turned to Yukari. “Yukari! You and Ken-kun stay back and provide healing support! The rest of us will go on the offensive!”

“Are you serious?! I’m going in as well. Against that thing? You’ll need all the help you can get!” she protested.

Minato shook his head. He knew how stubborn Yukari could be, but now is not the time. Not against something like this. “You’re our main healer, Yukari. I need you to keep everyone alive, that’s what’s important!”

“No!” Yukari wasn’t having any of it. “I can still –”

However, she was soon cut off by a nearby explosion. The Reaper had fired another powerful almighty spell that had narrowly missed Junpei.

Minato firmly gripped Yukari’s shoulder. “I think your point is now moot! Look, if one of its attacks hit any of us, it’s over!”

Yukari bit her lip, but she knew that Minato was right. “Fine. But be careful, okay?”

Minato nodded and prepared to re-join the battle when Yukari called out to him. “Oh… and Minato?”

He turned around to look back at her, only for him to yanked by the hem of his blazer into a passionate kiss. As quickly as it happened, they both pulled apart.

“For luck.” Yukari simply said, flushed.

Despite being momentarily caught off guard by his girlfriend’s sudden kiss, Minato gave another nod before charging at the Reaper.

~.~

The battle dragged on for quite some time now. The entire floor had been reduced to smouldering ruins.

Even with its stats lowered, the Reaper was still a force to be reckoned with. It was able to use all the elemental spells, deliberately targeting the weaknesses of each one of them. Yukari found herself repeatedly using her healing spells just to keep the team alive even as she started to feel the fatigue kicking in. Even Ken had to join into the fray just for an extra hand. But no matter how much they threw at it, the Reaper still stood strong.

Nonetheless, the rest of S.E.E.S. gave as good as they got, managing to score good hits on the monster. At their head was Minato, sword in one hand and his evoker in the other, desperately trying to catch his breath.

“Michael!” Minato summoned a bronze-skinned angelic being. The archangel lunged forward and brought down its spear on the Reaper.

The Reaper, however, pulled backwards and narrowly dodged the blow. But the spear nonetheless managed to collide with one of its revolvers. As sparks flew from the clash of metal, the barrel of the revolver was sliced off clean like a hot knife does with butter. The sliced-off barrel clattered harmlessly to the floor.

The monster emitted what seemed to be a growl of frustration as it held up what was left of its revolver, glowering at Minato. It let out another violent cry, enveloping itself with the same aura as before.

“Watch out! It's charging up another spell!”

The blue-haired field commander of S.E.E.S. however had prepared a Mind Charge of his own, concentrating as much energy as possible into one final spell. His finger delicately hovered over the trigger of his evoker, biding his time. He had no other choice; he had to seize the opening just before the Reaper could fire its attack, it was kill or be killed.

The Reaper levelled its remaining revolver at Minato, its finger ready to pull the trigger. Minato tensed up and raised the evoker to his temple.

But its single eye then glanced sideways, to Minato’s horror, where Yukari was standing. However, she was too preoccupied healing Akihiko who had earlier been hit by an ice spell to notice the Reaper’s attention had now been focused on her instead.

Damn it! Minato cursed inwardly to himself. The monster somehow knew that Yukari was the one healing them. He had to act fast or else it’s too late.

“Yukari-chan!” Fuuka cried out. “It’s aiming at you!”

Yukari’s widened in horror as she saw the Reaper levelling its revolver at her. But Minato knew that even if she ran, the blast radius would still be large enough to hit her.

No time to switch Personas! Minato thought. He summoned Michael once again. The archangel charged at the Reaper and thrust its spear forward.

Jamming it right into the muzzle of the revolver.

Time seemed to stop at that moment. The barrel of the revolver suddenly contorted and ballooned with pure energy; had it not been for the dire situation they were in right now, it would have seemed comical.

And a mighty explosion immediately followed, engulfing both the Reaper and Michael. But that was not the end of it. The resulting shockwave spread across the entire floor. Everyone quickly braced themselves against the shockwave, but the overwhelming force quickly flung them backwards like leaves in a hurricane.

Yukari wheezed as she staggered back to her feet, leaning against one of the toppled pillars to support her exhausted body. She glanced around her; to her relief, the rest of S.E.E.S., despite being hit by the shockwave, were relatively unharmed as they got back up on their feet as well.

“Takeba!” Mitsuru called out to Yukari, coughing as she waved away the dust. “Are you okay?”

“Y-yeah!” she answered.

But her heart briefly stopped as someone was not among them. Minato…! Where is he?! He had been the closest to the explosion. As the dust cleared, Yukari squinted her eyes to where the explosion had occurred.

Yukari’s stomach lurched as she saw the sight before her. Minato lay motionless on the floor. His S.E.E.S. uniform is in tatters, either ripped from the force of the shockwave or singed by the explosion.

“Minato!” Yukari screamed out, desperately hoping that he would respond.

“Don’t worry! I can still feel his signal. It’s still strong!” Fuuka said. “But so is –”

He’s still alive… Thank God!

But her relief was short-lived as a figure emerged from the crater of the explosion. The Reaper was still alive. But it definitely did not come out of there unscathed. Its already tattered robes were completed charred, wisps of smoke indicating that it had been severely burned. Black shrapnel were pierced all over its body, probably fragments of its revolver. But the most obvious sign of injury was its arm, or rather, what’s left of it. Black ooze, which reminded Yukari of the shadows, dripped from the stump.

Another blood-curdling shriek came out from the Reaper before it lunged forward, remaining arm outstretched.

It charged towards Minato’s crumpled form, ready to grab and crush him in its grip.

Only to find an arrow pierced into its eye.

The Reaper shrieked as it halted its charge, clutching at the arrow embedded into its socket in a desperate attempt to yank it out to no avail.

“Get the hell away from him!” Yukari seethed in fury as she lowered her bow.

With her evoker in hand, she summoned Isis. A gust of green wind enveloped the Reaper, pushing it back away from Minato.

Glaring with an intensity to match Yukari’s own, Mitsuru declared as she fired her evoker, “You’ve done enough harm, monster! Artemisia!”

The green wind soon turned into a blizzard, encasing the Reaper in ice that left the monster unable to move.

With the force of a runaway freight train, the combined force of Athena and Trismegistus collided into the Reaper that pushed it back even further.

But the assault was not yet over. With a furious howl, Koromaru summoned Cerberus. The three-headed dog casted an Agidyne, fire bursting from where the Reaper stood. It flailed helplessly as its body became engulfed in flames.

It was then Minato staggered back to his feet. It had to take as much willpower as he could muster just to stand up. Despite his wounds and the throbbing of his head, however, his mind was still concentrated for that final spell he had been planning to unleash. With the Reaper preoccupied with the flames, now was the right time.

“Akihiko! Ken! Now!” Minato screamed as he pointed his evoker at his temple. Akihiko and Ken determinedly nodded as they stepped forward alongside Minato and summoned their Personas.

“ODIN!” Minato bellowed as he summoned the head of the Norse pantheon, Gungnir held proudly in his hand.

“Yaaaaah!” The three of them shouted as the combined forces of their personas prepared their final attack. A massive bolt of lightning, far bigger than the Reaper itself, crashed down on the monster like a bolt of divine retribution.

The smoke cleared. Minato gritted his teeth as he saw the monster lay crumpled at the centre of the crater. It was still alive, but its body was crackling with electricity, twitching helplessly and struggling to stagger back to its feet.

“It’s paralysed now! One final blow should do it!” Fuuka called out.

It was now or never.

“THANATOS!”

Minato had summoned his ace, his trump card, to deliver the coup de grace. The demon-like monster, with an ear-splitting howl, charged forward. In a split second, Thanatos had appeared in front of the Reaper, its glistening blade raised in the air before swinging the killing blow.

In a single stroke, Thanatos sliced into the Reaper’s neck and cleaved through the rest. The Black ooze sprayed like a freshly opened bottle of champagne as the Reaper’s head flew from the rest of its body. The severed head toppled to the floor, bouncing harmlessly like a basketball.

The body hadn’t even touched the floor before it evaporated into a wisp of black smoke along with its head. All that remained was a single bloodied button.

Thanatos let out a triumphant roar before fading away. Minato panted heavily, his body slouched forward as he lacked the strength to even stand up straight, more exhausted than he’d ever been. His body was too tired to even tremble. He had given everything he had, but in the end, they had done it. They had overcome the final hurdle.

As the wave of exhaustion overwhelmed him, Minato’s body fell backwards, but he was caught by Akihiko before he could hit the floor. “Hey!” He heard Akihiko’s voice call out to him. “Just hold on a bit longer.”

“Minato!” Yukari screamed. She along with the rest of S.E.E.S. ran towards them as Akihiko gently lowered his body to the floor, his free hand supporting Minato’s head.

Yukari put her hands to her mouth to suppress a scream as she saw Minato’s state. Blood, dirt and ash coated his uniform. The sleeves were completely burnt, exposing most of his arm which were similarly caked in dust. Blood dripped heavily from his temple as the result of an open gash there, and he was soaked in sweat.

Aigis rushed forward to Minato’s side, her scanning Minato’s form as she helped Akihiko support him. Her hands trembled as she held the back of Minato’s head.

“Minato-san is okay.” Aigis said. Despite her usual monotonous tone, Yukari could easily detect the quavering in the android’s voice. “He has sustained major bruising all over his body due to the shockwave, as well as some major cuts. But his condition is stable nonetheless…”

Thank God… Yukari choked as she suppressed the tears in her eyes.

“What are you doing, Yukari?!” Akihiko’s voice snapped her out of her funk. “We need to heal his wounds before he bleeds out!”

“R-Right!” Yukari nodded as she rushed to Minato’s side. Now was not the time for weakness.

Summoning Isis once again, Yukari cast a Diarahan spell, enveloping Minato in a divine glow as the cuts and burn marks slowly faded away. As the light finally dissipated, Minato’s eyes opened despite being hazed over by sweat. Slowly, his arms moved to help prop himself up.

Only to find a pair of arms wrap tightly around him.

“Yu-Yukari…! You’re crushing me!” Minato wheezed. He sometimes forgot that Yukari had surprisingly strong arms due to her use of the bow.

“Oh, I-I’m sorry!” Yukari yelped concernedly as she pulled away from Minato. But she quickly fumed and proceeded to swat Minato on the shoulder. “Wait! No, I’m not sorry! What the hell were you thinking?! You’ve could have gotten yourself killed!”

“She’s right, man!” Junpei chimed in, rubbing his eye. “What you did was batshit insane!”

Even Mitsuru joined in, giving Minato her signature icy glare, though her eyes seemed to mist up as well. “It was reckless! If you pull another stunt, I would have to revoke your position as field commander!”

“I-I’m so glad you’re okay, Minato-kun!” Fuuka choked.

“Still…” Mitsuru frowned. “We shouldn’t stay here any longer before any more shadows appear. I doubt any of us, much less Arisato, are in any condition to continue fighting. And I believe we won’t be exploring Tartarus until we have sufficiently recovered.”

She was right. They had all been so caught up in the adrenaline of the fight that they had neglected to notice their current state. While still better off than Minato, they were completely caked in blood and dust, all battered and bruised.

The rest of S.E.E.S. nodded. Once they collected their trophy, the bloodied button, they prepared to depart to the nearest teleport terminal. Yukari volunteered to help Minato, slinging his arm over her shoulder so he could stand upright. Although his wounds were healed, he was still completely drained from the fighting and could barely stand on his own.

As they walked, Minato murmured something.

“Yukari…”

Yukari stopped and turned to look at her boyfriend, a sombre expression on his face. “Yes?” she asked concernedly.

“I’m sorry… for making you worried.” He said. “When the Reaper was about to attack you… I stopped thinking. All that came to my head was to protect you... If anyone, especially you, got hurt… or worse, I –”

“Damn it, Minato…” Yukari cut him off. Tears trickled down her face, but despite that a smile appeared on her face. “You don’t always have to be the hero. This isn’t something you should bear all by yourself. We’re your friends, and we’re girlfriend and boyfriend… we’re all in this together.”

“But still…” she continued; her gaze averted as her cheeks turned a rosy pink. “thanks.”

She leaned forward and planted a kiss on Minato’s cheek, causing him to flush as well. She huskily whispered into his ear. “Once you’re better, I’ll think of a way to repay you. Perhaps in a way you know best…”

Minato couldn’t help but chuckle at Yukari’s proposition. “If that’s your way of repaying me, then perhaps I should find more ways to save you.”

“Hey, this is just a one-time thing, okay? Don’t get yourself killed for something like that.” She scolded.

“Dude.” Junpei deadpanned, standing right behind the couple. “Can you both at least wait until we’ve reached the dorm? We’ve got a kid around here, after all.”

“Shut up, Stupei!”

[adarlingwrites]

Absolution

Summary:

noun: formal release from guilt, obligation, or punishment

The Capital Wasteland lauded the Lone Wanderer as a hero, a Messiah, a savior who's willing to give her life for the Good Fight. Beyond the legends, the propaganda, and the mythification that surrounded her legacy, there is only one person who knew her bare soul. She gave him his absolution, and now he will fight for hers.

XI

December 27, 2277.

My mistress’ peers surrounded her and they’re either hugging her or asking her how her life has been since she went out in the wastes. Something stirs in my chest. I feel… happy seeing people care about the mistress. I’m certain that there are people who care for her in the Wasteland; Gob, Nova, Simms, Moira, Three Dog, the kids in Big Town, everyone else she has helped… and me. But there are people who wanted to hurt her too. Here in this vault, she is safe. I won’t be surprised if she decides to stay here after she’s done with her father’s project.

Seeing these teenagers joke around and catch up with each other makes me wonder if I could have experienced that too.

I follow Percy as the other teens her age led her to a jail cell, where they set their former teacher free. He seems proud of them. Percy introduced me to him, Mr. Brotch, and after the initial surprise due to my appearance, he shook my hand. We gathered back in the clinic, where the old lady who gave me a sweetroll held a prayer for James.

Just when I thought the mistress could finally catch a break, Amata drops a bomb on her.

“Percy, on behalf of the vault, I thank you for everything that you’ve done,” she starts, an apologetic tone in her voice.

“I have a bad feeling about this,” Percy half sighs, half laughs. “Let me guess, I can’t stay?”

“Yes. I’m so sorry. But there are a lot of people who still blame you for everything that happened.”

There’s a clamor of protest from her peers. “Wait, but Percy saved all of us!” Gomez’ kid interjected. “Yeah, we can’t just kick her out,” a girl spoke up. From her resemblance with Wally, I suppose this one is Susie. “Percy! You can’t just accept that,” another girl interrupts.

“It’s fine, Christine. I can’t say I’m surprised. I always did stir up trouble in the vault, didn’t I?”

Amata laughs, bittersweet. “You shake things up, and often for the better. But the situation is too delicate for you to stay…”

“I know, Amata. Hell, I met Wally earlier. He’s too taken in by your father’s and his father’s lies. No offense.”

“None taken, Percy.”

“Can I go around the vault, one last time?” Percy asks, her voice cracking. I stand close to her, reluctantly placing a hand on her shoulder.

“Of course.”

And so, I followed the mistress around once more as she explored her home for the last time. I’ve learned her history from the places we went through. The place where she would stash her comic books. The place where her class would sneak off to so they can drink in secret. The place where Stevie hurt her. The place where she would hide and cry. The place where she would practice shooting. I learned so much about the mistress that night.

Our last stop was her and James’ living quarters.

Everyone stopped at the doorway, save for the dog, who still followed her inside. She looks over her shoulder, gesturing for me to follow, and I did. Looking around felt like a violation of her privacy, but then the realization dawned on me. Percy’s sharing this part of herself with me.

My mistress drags her fingers through the surface of a coffee table, dust collecting at her fingertips. “This is where dad used to read his books,” she almost whispers. She moves on to her sleeping quarters, a small room with a bed, a dresser, and a few items lying about. Percy picks up a teddy bear, old and worn with use, a soft expression on her face.

“Mr. Bubbles.”

Percy gives it to Dogmeat, which he happily carries in his mouth. She jumps on the bed, landing face first. “I can’t remember the last time I slept on a soft bed.”

After spending a few minutes on the bed, she finally stood up, shaking the dust off her armor. “Time to grow up, I guess.”

We went back to the clinic and my mistress collected her father’s things, one of which was a picture frame with something written inside. I still have difficulty reading the words, despite my mistress teaching me, but I can read the numbers just fine. 21:6.

A pair of girls her age went to me with apprehension. Christine and Susie.

“Hey, Charon was it?” Susie asks me.

I give her no reply.

“Take care of our friend, won’t you?”

I nod. “It’s what I’m here for.”

The group of teenagers, the old lady, and the teacher accompanied us on the way out. Gomez gives my mistress a nod, taking his place next to his son. The vault door opens, and my mistress takes a step.

“See you on the outside?” Percy tells them.

“One day,” Amata replies. “Goodbye, Percy.”

Percy doesn’t look back. The corners of her eyes are wet.

As soon as we’re out of the trap door, she lets out a sob she’s been holding in for fuck knows how long. And I held her again. I placed a hand behind her head, pressed her to my chest, and she cried.

Dammit.

She doesn’t deserve this. I want to make her feel better. Percy deserves better.

“Percy, remember what I told you earlier?” I speak up, my voice rumbling through my chest.

“Yeah?” she sniffles. A snowflake lands on her hair. It’s getting colder and colder as each day passes.

“I mean it. Contract aside… I’ll stay by your side as long as you will have me.”

“Thank you big guy,” she mumbles, wrapping her arms around my waist.

When we broke from the embrace, the mistress looked me in the eyes. “You’re the best thing that happened to me in months, Charon.”

I swallow thickly, preparing myself for what I’m about to say to her.

“...you’re the best thing that happened to my life,” I tell her.

Percy looks at me with wide eyes, filled with… what is this feeling? Whatever it is, I liked it.

“Charon, I…” the mistress stammers, taking my hand in hers. 

We were interrupted by a damn cough.

“Uh… am I interrupting something?” It’s fucking DeLoria. God dammit all.

“Wait, Butch?! What are you doing out here?” Percy asks him, stepping away from me. Dogmeat looks up to me and whines. Even the dog is disappointed.

“I told ya I’m getting out of that hole, didn’t I? Now-”

“You can’t tag along,” my mistress interrupts.

Sometimes, I wish my mistress would be more selfish, because now, this loudmouth greaser is settling on the couch while my mistress is rubbing her face. He’s bunched up in blankets, looking uncomfortable.

“One day, Butch. I help you for one day, and you’re out on your own,” she tells him, sternly, a hand on her hip.

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll get outta your hair as soon as I can pick myself up. Thanks, Perce,” DeLoria tells her, propping his head up with an arm. “You sure you don’t want me next to you?”

My mistress groans. “No. Now go to sleep. Rivet City’s a long way from here.”

Dogmeat, still holding Percy’s old teddy bear in his mouth, followed us as we went upstairs. I pull Percy aside.

“Percy, are you sure about this?” I ask her. I don’t trust the greaser.

“Yeah. Helping him get to Rivet City won’t hurt. I’m heading there to trade for ammo before we look for Vault 87, anyway,” she tells me.

“But what if he’s just taking advantage of your kindness?”

“What if it works out? Ease up, big guy, Butch is harmless. Compared to what’s after me in the Wasteland, anyway.”

“I just don’t want any harm to come to you, Percy.”

“I know, big guy. But Butch is what’s left of the life I had in the vault. He’s like family now. I can’t just abandon him,” she tells me, placing a small hand on my arm.

A small twinge of guilt blooms in my chest. Right. It’s not even an hour since she was exiled from her home. Of course she’d still be attached to her previous life and the people in it.

“I understand. Good night, Percy.”

“Good night, Charon.”

As I lay on my mattress, my mind wanders to my youth. Seeing where my mistress, no, my friend grew up in made me wonder what it was like when I wasn’t groomed to be the killer that I am yet.

I try to remember what I can.

March 18, 2065.

A little boy was flying to see my aunt on her birthday. I was that boy.

Looking out an airliner window, clouds were breezing by while Mama sewed and Papa was finishing the last of his lunch. I was holding a handmade doll Mama made with me, that I was going to give to my aunt. The sky was still bright and blue, not the ruined, green-tinged one I know today. “Are we there yet?” I asked Mama, impatient. My voice was small. A child’s.

“Patience little one,” Mama tells me. “We’ll be there soon. Excited to see Auntie Katya?”

I nod at her. I can’t even remember my mother’s face and my memory is struggling to fill the gaps. All I know is she had blue eyes, like mine.

“You know, Artyom, we were visiting her when your mama had you,” said Papa. His hair is red like mine. “Your Aunt Katya was there when your mother gave birth. She chose your name, too.”

So that was my name before… before...

“I can’t believe we’re finally back in California after all those years, Ilya. Sometimes I wonder why we stay in Alaska,” Mama said.

“What does California look like, Mama?”

“Hush now, I’ll let you see for yourself when we get there. Get some sleep,” Mama tells me. I remember pouting at her.

“Lullaby, please,” I ask her.

“Oh, fine, fine. Come here, love.”

I settled in my mother’s lap. She’s warm, soft, and smells of baked goods. Like a sweetroll.

“Spi mladyenec, moi prekrasniy, bayushki bayu...”

That lullaby always made me feel better. Sadly, I cannot remember the rest of it.

I’m taken back to the present, more than 200 years later, when the dog whines outside my door. I crack it open, and see Dogmeat outside, the teddy bear still in his mouth. I let him in. I lie back down on the mattress and Dogmeat lies next to me, sniffing his new toy before drifting asleep.

Through the thin walls of Percy’s home, I can hear her soft cries and sobs.

It went on for hours.

I can’t take it anymore.

Three months ago, I would’ve scoffed at the idea. I would’ve told myself that I’m a mercenary, not a babysitter. But I want to make my friend Percy feel better.

“Do you think we should get her?” I ask the dog, who was awakened by her sobbing when it started almost two hours ago. Dogmeat licks my face and sits patiently in front of the door, waiting for me to open it.

We quietly step outside my room. I look over the balcony, and Butch was already fast asleep. Good. I knock at my mistress’ door, and after a few seconds of silence, she opens it, her eyes red and raw.

“Hm?”

“I can hear you crying through the walls,” I tell her, holding my breath.

“Oh. I’m sorry-”

“Percy, you have nothing to apologize for. Do you need company?”

“I- yes. I can’t sleep. Stay with me, please?”

Please. I will never grow tired of hearing her say that word.

I step into her bedroom. Her only bedroom now, as far as I’m concerned. There are sheets of paper neatly stacked on the desk, and a repainted tin can holds her pencils. Her bed sheets smell faintly of Abraxo detergent and a human scent, unmistakably Percy’s. I sit on the bed and she immediately huddles into my chest, face pressed against it. I gather the blankets and wrap it around Percy, stroking her hair. I felt like a depraved old man, cuddling down with a nineteen-year old in her bedroom and touching her hair, but my feelings do not matter at the moment. Percy needs all the comfort she can in this shithole world.

Her sobs slowed into soft breaths.

“Better?”

Percy nods. “Thank you.”

“Anything for a friend, Percy.”

She looks up to me. “Friend?...”

“Is that not what you call me? Don’t overthink it.”

Percy nodded and rested her head against my chest. Dogmeat comes over to give Mr. Bubbles back, and she takes the bear, while the dog lies over our legs. We’re a cozy little pile.

I try to remember my mother’s lullaby, but my brain is failing me. I still remember the melody, however.

I start to hum.

Even in her sleep, she’s crying for her father.

Only when Percy settled comfortably did I allow myself to close my eyes.

??? ??, 2070

There’s a plate of pancakes on the counter, but I can’t have some yet. I look at my fingers, thin and bony, thumbing the page of a book while I sit in the kitchen. Mama is getting frustrated at me. I’m doing my best to understand what is on the page.

Then, we heard knocking at the door.

Papa is in the living room, so he answers it. I go back to learning how to read, but Mama isn’t looking at the book anymore.

“Artyom, keep reading. I’ll just make sure your Papa’s okay.”

She stands up and leaves me in the kitchen. I didn’t stay put. I hid behind the door frame to spy on them, and I saw two men shoving a piece of paper in my father’s face.

“You have the right to remain silent, Mr. Volkov. Anything you say-” one of them tried to say, but Papa interrupts him.

“This must be a mistake. We are not Reds nor we are harboring Reds-” said my Papa. He was interrupted by the men, who attempted to put him in handcuffs, but Papa is big and strong. He didn’t let them touch him.

“Mr. Volkov, please cooperate. We must investigate all reports that go through our 1800-REPORT-RED Hotline. You’ll be tried in court, and should you be proven a Red supporter or ally, social services will take your child into custody in an attempt to rehabilitate him from any indoctrination you might have-”

Papa pushes one of them.

“Do not touch my son. I am not going. That warrant isn’t even authorized! I am not coming with you over an accusation made by some paranoid idiot who called your damn hotline. Annika, call Katya. She’ll know what to-”

I hear a loud noise and flinch, then Papa falls to the floor.

Mama screams as she falls to her knees to make sure he’s okay. He’s not breathing.

They killed my Papa.

Author’s Notes:

I was listening to Daddy Issues by The Neighbourhood as inspiration for this chapter. It'll probably be the inspiration for the next ones too.

I headcanon Charon to be of Russian descent and I'm not the first one to do so, IIRC. His grandfather was a Russian diplomat in Los Angeles, and his father and aunt moved to the USA along with him as children. I wrote this as a shoutout/homage to one of the possible pre-made player characters in the first Fallout, Natalia Dubrovhsky. Stay tuned to find out how he ended up on the East Coast!

If we were to follow traditional Russian naming convention (first name + patronymic + surname), his full name would've been Artyom Ilyich Volkov.

The lullaby Charon's mother sings to him as a boy is called Cossack Lullaby, written by Mikhail Lermontov in 1838.

Also, Auntie Katya will show up in future stories! -wink-

[krinatheladysnake]

Lady Snake (and the Jedi Killer) Chapter 6

Summary: The galaxy calls her Lady Snake- a quick and merciless killer. Kylo Ren calls her a nuisance.Krina, a Commander and the only other Force user of the First Order, despises what the dark side has become and wishes to return it to its true state of power but what she hates the most is the naive man-child ruling over it.

Chapter 6: Reluctor (To Struggle Against)

Words: 2,112

Krina would rather be doing anything else right now- anything. She could make a whole list and organize it accordingly. Kriff, dying would be right at the top- even only a few days after her nightmare. Instead, she was standing beside Kylo Ren on a planet all too new for her. 

Salt crunched against thick, black soles, leaving a trace of Krina’s path through the newly exposed red crystal. It was beautiful, unlike anything she had seen before. The perfect layer of white could be mistaken for snow when looked at from afar but up close it was coarse and rough. She had to be careful of how she stepped, due to the slickness of the planet’s surface, as she followed Kylo’s lead and made her way to the corpse of a battle that had taken place only months before.

Much to her dismay, Krina was ordered to stay on the Finalizer while a small portion of the First Order took to Crait in hopes of cutting off the Resistance and destroying them. She was restless, wanting to be in the middle of it all. She was more than capable of causing serious damage to anything the Resistance threw her way. The First Order knew she was the perfect person to go in and do the job but pride got in the way of seeking true success. And of course Kylo Ren stood in her way, ordering her to stand down. 

The Resistance had grown accustomed to dealing with Kylo. They knew his motives and the way to break him down. It was surely going to be his downfall. They didn’t know Krina in the same way. She was a mystery to them, something of their nightmares that only ended in bloodshed with a devilish smile. It was no secret that the Resistance’s hatred for her exceeded anything they felt for Kylo. Even then, she wanted nothing more than to stand in front of them again and watch fear cloud their judgment.

Krina continuously shifted her gaze between the terrain in front of her and Kylo’s large frame as they trudged on, resorting to using the end of her long, delicate cape as a cover for her face as a strong gust of wind sent flumes of salt spiraling. A small group of stormtroopers followed behind them as a precaution but kept their distance. As the wind-picked salt began to settle, the Resistance outpost and remnants of the battle came into view. The pair took attentive steps into the wreckage.

A few First Order machines were the first to catch Krina’s eye due to the dark grey shading out against pure white. AT-AT and AT-M6 walkers had begun to cover in salt as if it were snow, causing only about half of each walker to be accessible to her. Large chunks of the armored exterior were missing from blasts, the impact of collapsing, and even time. Krina stared down at the AT-M6 beside her, scanning what had remained of it. It was apparent that it had been shot down by something Resistance owned since the wounds were small and plentiful. She took note before she continued to walk towards her destination, trailing a little behind her superior who didn’t need to assess the damage he had inflicted.

Catching sight of a lone skim speeder, a V-4X-D to be exact, is what caused Krina to stop again. The quality of the speeder, what was left of it anyway, showed its age. It was practically in pieces. First Order blasters and cannons were far more powerful than anything the Resistance could dream of making. Krina was surprised this one held up as well as it had. She bent down, landing on her knees. She put one hand on the metal, shivering at the cold, and closed her eyes. She invited the Force to take over and it flooded her senses. 

A slowly moving image played in her mind of the skim speeder losing its balance as it, and its pilot, narrowly avoided First Order bullets and collided with the salted terrain. Fear and a sense of acceptance hit the pilot all at once before their heads lulled to the side as the speeder landed on top of them. Krina didn’t flinch at the sight or the ghastly emotions. The image slowly disappeared and Krina was staring back at the vehicle again. 

“Force echoing?” Kylo questioned as he looked at her from over his shoulder. Krina looked up at him, pursing her lips.

“You’d know I could do that if you actually paid attention to anyone but yourself.”

Years ago, Krina had mastered her ability to use psychometry. Most called it “Force echoing,” much like Kylo did, but it was hardly technical terminology. It was a skill very few Force-sensitives were born with and those who mastered it could acquire information about objects just by touching them. Krina had been one of those few and was the only known Dark sider who possessed such a power. It was just another piece that made her so vital to the First Order. She could feel the jealousy radiating off of the man ahead of her.

Krina straightened out and made her way over to Kylo. The pair walked side by side once again, their eyes on the only real reason they were on this waste of a planet in the first place. The massive, metal mine shaft door was sealed shut with one massive crack running all the way down it. 

“The battering ram cannon only managed to put a crack in it?” Disgust oozed out of Krina’s words.

“It was successfully opened.” The sternness of Kylo’s correction trailed off as his eyes scanned the mysterious door.

“Then, why is it closed?” 

“Isn’t that the reason why we are here?” Kylo snapped and Krina rolled her eyes. 

It made the pair look so small as it towered above. It was quite comical how someone as tall and intimidating as Supreme Leader Kylo Ren seemed so insignificant against it. Krina took a step forward and closed her eyes. 

“You do not truly think you can open this door after it took death star technology to open it the first time?” Kylo snorted, crossing his arms over his chest. Krina kept silent and deepened her breathing, using the Force to will the door open. As the door creaked and began to lift, Krina smirked proudly to herself. She could feel Kylo’s scowl burning a hole in the back of her head. It was an inconvenient day for him to decide to leave his helmet on this ship. As the stormtroopers approached, they all gasped at the sight. 

“Kylo Ren can’t do that,” One of them whispered under his breath, trying to keep his words to himself as much as possible. Krina threw her head back and let out a loud cackle as Kylo threw out a hand and squeezed around the trooper’s throat.

Krina really was a lot stronger than she let on. She was going to have to boast about this when she was back on the Finalizer, tell Hux how Kylo Ren’s blood boiled, and maybe try to impress a few Knights of Ren. If only the First Order would have let her attend the mission the first time around. Whether she was strong or not, the amount of power and manipulation of the Force it took to open the door knocked the wind out of her. She tried her best to not let her newfangled exhaustion show as she very slowly and cautiously stepped inside.

The outpost was a skeleton of what was already a bare bones operation. It had been stripped, forgotten, further abandoned. Dust, grime, and dirt had begun to rest in cracks and on the tops of surfaces. All machines had been powered down or destroyed. 

Truthfully, Krina couldn’t quite understand how the Resistance found a place as desolate and outdated as Crait to be useful to them but then again, they were terrible at making just about any decision. And this time, they managed to get away but their fleet was continuing to dwindle. Had she been allowed to go, the Resistance would no longer exist. Then again, maybe Krina would no longer exist instead. This could have been the very place where she fell. The very place where the Resistance showed her no remorse, where Kylo Ren stood with them as they struck her down.

Kylo Ren. Krina quickly abandoned the crates and searched for him. Stormtroopers, deserted equipment, and no sign of the Supreme Leader. Panic. All that settled in Krina’s bones was unbridled panic. Was this all just a ploy? A way to get her alone so he could put an end to her? 

Had he really left her behind? 

Krina pushed past stormtroopers and searched everywhere. Her mind was racing and she didn’t stop for a second to think of utilizing the Force. She was so used to cutting him off from her mind and keeping her distance that searching for him in a way that made them both vulnerable felt foreign and sinister. 

While running a shaky hand through strands of hair that had fallen out of a haphazard ponytail, Krina let out a breath. Pain, manifesting as both physical and mental, caused the sigh to come out as a whine. The whole world seemed to freeze around Krina as she unraveled.

“Kylo.” One simple word came out in a broken whisper. Something tugged at Kylo as he searched the premises in a room that veered off from the main hangar. It echoed in his mind, practically screaming at him. Something was wrong. Immediately, he thought of Krina and all the ways she could be causing trouble.

Krina was so frantic, she didn’t realize Kylo, out of breath and disheveled, had arrived at her side. A gentle touch and soothing voice shook her out of her thoughts.

“Krina,” He practically whispered back to her. She looked up at him, eyes wide. “What have you done?”

“Nothing!” She scoffed, stepping away from him. “I don’t spend all my time causing problems for you.”

“I sensed a disturbance. I only thought-”

“Well, you were mistaken. Whatever you sensed was not from me. If you don’t recall, I tend to keep you cut off. I don’t need to be interrupted by your unbalanced connection with the Force.” Krina’s words were a string of defenses to cover a moment of weakness. Hopefully, that was something Kylo couldn’t sense. He did. 

“The Force does not lie, Krina. I would not have abandoned my search to come to your rescue if it was nothing.” 

“My rescue?! You can do that now when it’s misplaced but not when I was dying?!” Krina’s voice echoed through the bunker as her volume continued to get louder. She was yelling at the Supreme Leader of the First Order with no remorse. Kylo’s facial features twisted in confusion. 

“Dying? When were you dying?” His works cracked and frayed at the seams. The thought of Krina dying struck fear in both of them. Krina’s eyes doubled in size before she tried to normalize her expression and erase any signs of her former panic. This nightmare had continued to seep into moments in her life and blur the edges of reality, which she was losing her grip on.

“Unimportant,” Krina mumbled as she turned on her heels and walked back towards the crates she had been rummaging through. Kylo followed closely behind her.

“I only found pieces of broken speeders and a holopad that seems to be damaged,” Krina kept her eyes on the items as she listed them off. No part of her wanted to explain her words to Kylo Ren of all people. Kylo blinked at the change in conversation. 

“The holopad could be an important piece. If we can get it working, we can essentially come in direct contact with the Resistance.” Kylo commented, keeping his eyes on Krina. Nothing on this planet was worth what had just happened between them. He wasn’t going to let her off the hook. 

“So this wasn’t all for nothing?” 

“No, I suppose not. Although, one holopad hardly seems like a victory. We need to bring this back to the Steadfast immediately.” Kylo barked the orders loud enough for the stormtroopers to hear and marched out of the hangar. Krina hesitated before she followed behind with her head hung low. Silence became a close friend on the trip back.

The sudden echo in the Force, Krina’s broken expression, and her eerie words played back in Kylo’s mind over and over again like a broken record or a dream he couldn’t shake. 

[avengerscompound]

Legacy - Chapter 2

Legacy: A Hawkeye Fanfic

Series Masterlist PREVIOUS //

Buy me a ☕ Character Pairing:  Clint Barton x  F!Reader

Word Count:  1800ish

Rating:  E

Square filled:   @marvelfluffbingo - Neighbor AU

Warnings:  Pregnancy, domestic abuse, post-endgame, angst, developing-relationship, hurt/comfort, smut, Laura and Clint have broken up.  Comic Clint/MCU Clint mix.

Synopsis: Nothing is the same after the events of Endgame.  When Clint has trouble returning to a life where his family hasn’t changed but he has lost everything, he moves back to the city and tries to move on as a single parent. When Nate finds you bruised and pregnant in the stairwell of his building, he decides that there might be another way that he can make Nat’s sacrifice worth something.

Chapter 2

You’d spent the week at Clint’s place before you were able to set the next door apartment up enough that you could actually live in it.  In that week a whole slew of things happened that you had felt would break you but somehow didn’t.

First thing was, was Richard was let out on bail the following morning.  He’d come back to the apartment block fuming and when he saw the notice of eviction and the locks changed he’d come storming upstairs and bashing on the door.  Clint had told you to go wait in the bedroom with the kids.

Richard had bellowed at Clint.  He called him an interfering asshole.  Screamed at Clint that it was none of his business.  That he had no right to lock him out.  That he was a fucking piece of shit nobody and that's why he couldn't cut it as an Avenger anymore.  Clint had just calmly taken it all.  Never once raising his voice.  That's when Richard had snapped and from the spot you'd taken peering through a crack in the door, you'd seen Richard swing at him.

You had then gotten to see exactly why Clinton Francis Barton had been taken on as an Avenger in the first place.  He had stepped aside and using Richard’s forward moment, he elbowed him in the middle of the back and knocked him to the ground.  Richard raised his head and saw you and you slammed the door closed.  There was a fight.  You could hear fist hitting flesh and things being broken.

When Clint called to you, he had Richard pinned to the ground with several of the neighbors there as witnesses.  The police had come and arrested him again.  It turns out, attacking an Avenger - even an ex one - was a lot more serious a crime than attacking your pregnant girlfriend.  Somewhat akin to assaulting a police officer or something.

Which led to the second thing that made you nearly breakdown, this time in relief.   He didn’t get bail.  Reoffending immediately combined with attacking an Avenger meant he had to stay in prison until his trial.

Following that, you had then been set upon by people in the building.  Bringing you things they no longer needed to help furnish your new home.  Just between your neighbors, you received linen, mismatched dinnerware, silverware, and a couch that was a little ratty and worn but still very comfortable.  They also bought food.  Dishes and dishes of it.  Until the small freezer that came with the apartment was filled to the brim and most of the fridge was too and it bled over into Clint’s.

Then Clint had said he’d just buy the other bigger things you might need.  When you had argued with him over it, he said he could always just rent the place as furnished later, or if you really wanted to, you could pay him back but you couldn’t live there with no bed.  So he’d taken you to Ikea and gotten the last few things you needed to move in.

Finally, after everything he’d already done for you, when he didn’t even really know you, he’d organized to have an interview at Stark Industries.  It wasn’t a job, but just that starting point when you’d been out of work for months thanks to Richard, was the foot in the door you desperately needed.  You worried.  You had the experience, but you were pregnant.  You weren’t exactly going to be able to keep working for long.

Which was worse?  Being in an abusive relationship or being completely alone?

It had been a full week and it had led you here, sitting on the couch with Clint.  This near stranger who had just changed your life.

“You can get your bed back tomorrow.”  You said.

“Mmm… that will be nice, this couch has been killer on my back.”  Clint teased.

“I can take the couch you know.”  You said.  “You’ve already done way too much for me.”

He shook his head.  “Laura would kill me if she found out I let a pregnant woman sleep on this piece of crap couch.”

“I don’t… Thank you.  I don’t know what I’d do if you hadn’t decided to help me.”  You said.

He gently touched your shoulder.  It was funny just one week ago if he’d tried that you would have flinched away from him.  Now, it was actually comforting.  You welcomed it and leaned into him a little.  “You don’t have to keep thanking me, you know?”

“I know but…”

He raised his eyebrow at you as if to say ‘seriously’ and you chuckled and shook your head.

“But…”  You continued.  “I just don’t know why you’d do that.  I keep expecting you to hit on me or something.  You know, that this is a transactional help.”

Clint frowned.  “He really fucked with your head didn’t he?”

You nodded.  “Yeah, he did.  But I’ve been with him for a long time.  No one else has ever even asked if I was okay outside of asking me what happened.”

Clint sighed and pulled away from you.  It was almost like he was ashamed of his reasonings and thought if you heard them, you’d judge him for it, even after everything he’d done.  “I guess there’s a couple of reasons.  When I was a kid I was pretty badly abused by my dad.  I guess that’s a big one.  No one ever really did anything to help me when I was trapped with that.  I don’t think I can just look the other way.”

You reached over and took his hand, and he linked his fingers with yours.  It was a reflex action.  At some point in his life, when Clint Barton had struggled, someone would take his hand and now when a hand slipped into his, his fingers closed around it without thinking.  You wondered if that had been his ex.

“You know when everyone died I lost my kids and my wife?  Cooper should be 18 now.  That’s so fucking weird.  Seeing that 13-year-old boy who’s just starting to get the starts of the man who he’ll be when he should be at college or some shit.”

He paused and let out a breath, shaking his head.  “I went crazy.  I couldn’t understand how my three innocent kids and my wife who had done nothing except support me even when I wasn’t the best husband in the world, had died just like that.  I didn’t even see it happen.  I was there teaching Lila archery I turned around and it happened while I wasn’t looking.  I didn’t know what was going on.  And we live in the middle of nowhere.  I thought they were pranking me and I looked and I looked.  I think something inside me broke.  When I finally found out what was going on I was so angry that they could be taken and yet the world was still full of complete scum.  I went around killing as many of the people I decided didn’t deserve to be alive as I could.”

He wouldn’t look at you as he spoke so you just sat stroking your thumb over the back of his hand, hoping that you could reassure him.  Let him know it was okay.  He swallowed and took a deep breath before continuing.

“My friend, Natasha.  Black Widow, you know her?”  He asked.  You nodded.  Obviously, you didn’t know her - know her, but you knew who she was.  Everyone knew who she was.  She was one of the Avengers that was lost.  While Tony Stark had tributes everywhere as large and vibrant as he had been.  Natasha Romanoff had been remembered in quieter ways.  Small shrines set up in cities in dark alleys and secret spots.  “She came and got me.  Pushed me back on track.  We had to … Fuck... I don’t even know how to explain it.  There was a point.  One of us had to die.  I tried to be the one.  She stopped me.  She wanted me to live so I could go back and take care of my family.  Only everything was different for me now.  Wasn’t it?  I’d become this monster while they’d stayed the same.  I don’t know if it was just in my head or what but it was just wrong.  Ya know?”

He turned his head and looked at you, with such pain and guilt written on his features.  You did know though.  Right now half the world existed having lived with the trauma of losing what had felt like everything.  So much had changed since then.  For you, it had meant moving forward.  For many others, it had meant stagnating in trauma.  There were children who had lost parents.  Parents who had lost children.  People had died from fall out.  Planes crashing because the pilot suddenly disappeared.  Power plants exploding because they’d suddenly lost half the people who were manning them.  People died during operations because their surgeons turned to dust on them.  The world had been in mourning for five years and then everyone had reappeared and they were lost and confused because the people they had loved had changed and grown and they were still the same.  You’d kept thinking about people like Clint whose kids had not grown.  Or worse the kids whose parents had come back to find them adults now.  Or twins where one was still small and innocent and the other was grown and hard.  You knew.  Of course, you knew.  A lot of families had not been able to survive people coming back.

You gently rubbed his arm.  “Yeah.  I know.”

“I failed her.  She gave up her life so I could be with my family and I couldn’t keep us together for her.”  He said.  “I mean, don’t get me wrong, I couldn’t have ever just left you, but maybe before I would have just convinced you to go to a women’s shelter.  Now?  I gotta try and do something with my life that might actually mean that Nat’s death wasn’t a huge fucking waste.  And I hate that.  I hate that her death is what’s making me feel like this.  I should just be this person.  I wish I could go back and have it be me.  She would just be good because she was good.”

You wrapped your arms around him and held him as he melted against you.  “Clint, you’re still here with your kids.  The world has changed.  You still get to see your kids grow.”

“I know.”  He said quietly.   “I just… I had to help.”

You pulled back and gave him a friendly shove. “Well just know, I appreciate it and I'm really glad I get to be your neighbor.”

He smiled at you.  “I’m looking forward to it too.  It’s been nice having you here.”

You smiled and curled into his side.  Something you hadn’t felt comfortable doing with anyone in a long time.  He wrapped his arm around you and turned on the television.  You had been wondering this whole week which god you had to thank for sending Clint Barton to you.  Turns out her name was Natasha Romanoff.  You decided then and there you would watch out for him for her.  Her sacrifice was not going to go to waste.

// NEXT

[kojinnie]

The Way It Was

“How come you don’t know The Killers?”

“Haha,” The laughter on your face was faint unlike what your mouth suggested, something told me that you didn’t find it funny albeit the teasing nature in my question, “I have my own taste.”

Maybe I was wrong for not taking it on the first cue as I carried on with my unsuspecting grimace, “You are so uncultured!” which was stopped by the abrupt halt in your faint smile. It had turned cold suddenly when you got up and flicked your cigarette that was not even halfway done on the ashtray. It happens again, I thought, I crossed the line.

I bought the tickets on the simple basis of: I thought it would be fun. Afterall, you had fed me with hours of Chet Baker and bunch of your favorite artists, be it in your home, your workplace, your car. I took your interest as mine and I cherish everyone moment your face lit up each time your favorite tune would come out.

Sometimes, in your slurry drunken speech you would tell me how lucky you were to have met me for we had so much in common – disregarding the fact that it was all the hard work I put in. But I liked the way your curls disheveled across your face and the way your body curled up beneath the hotel’s bedding. I was never bothered.

But for us, the start of the end began when we were at the car following one too many impulsive calls of yours (“Hey, I’m picking you up. I need to buy groceries”), no matter whether I was having dinner with my parents or simply planning to have a quality time of my own, I would go with you. I was checking an Instagram notification when I jolted out of surprise although being strapped to the seat belt of your passenger seat.

You grunted, “What?” sounding annoyed as you oftentimes would by my reactions over things that you’d find ‘too much’ or ‘unnecessary’.

I said The Killers was announced to headline in local festival. I yielded my shriek as you threw me a piercing stare, “Since when do you like them?”, and I didn’t know how to tell you that I’ve always liked them since over a decade ago. I guess over the course of our five years relationship I never had the time to tell you that, amidst all your grandeur ideas about what you wanted to do with your life, although none of it was ever materialized.

             The day of the festival came and you dressed nicely like you always did. I liked that part of you. You picked me up from my home and I leaned over for a kiss as I situated myself on your passenger seat, but you turned your face away, mumbling, “Let’s go home right after the encore.” 

I had imagined a car ride where I would blast The Killers’ songs aloud, as I got you in the mood. But all I got was silence and the shrilling voice of the daytime radio host as we cruised through the interstate highway.

As we arrived, you roughly parked your car in the queue for valet service. Disguising the weight of my heart, I tried to lighten up the mood, “Yeay, we’re here!” And I carried on, talking to myself on how crowded it was, which songs I looked forward the most to – all efforts to conceal any trace of reaction to your elaborate cold shoulder play. But I guess it became quite too much for me in the seconds leading to you taking the valet ticket, when you asked, “What time will this band play?”

             “Well, they’re last on the line-up. They’re supposed to play right after—”

             “—what time?”

             “Um, 9.30.”

             “Then I need to reschedule the call with Mr. Krasinski.”

             “Who?”

             “The potential investor.”

             “Wait, what? For the studio? Why didn’t you tell me?”

             “You bought the tickets already.”

I knew you had expected guilt to arise from me, and you were so good at it because that was exactly the only thing I felt that night.

The festival happened to be so overwhelming because I felt like floating, you were walking beside me a foot away. I’d walk closer to tangle my hand in yours only to be shunned away. I tried to lighten up the mood by pointing out some people dressing up funny, or the neon aesthetics of the festival, or whatever I could lay my eyes on. But all you uttered was haha, oh, okay.

Maybe it’s the age gap, I thought to myself as I saw you walking away to the nearest smoking booth. Maybe we differ in priorities, as I cheered myself on. But it’s tiring, I reminded myself. It’s like walking on eggshells, I confided to myself. It’s suffocating, I confessed to myself.

Ping! – a tootle from my phone took me back. I had been texting a close friend, telling her about you.

[19.38, +628211236****] tbh im getting tired of hearing him being like that

I leered at where you were, standing leaning to the glass partition of the smoking booth, when I saw you being approached by a guy in a cap, tall with hospitable smile. You embraced him in a friendly manner, and I was glad for a second that you had met someone you knew to take your mind off of how much you hated to be here.

[19.40, Me] ikr it’s suffocating

[19.41, +8211236****] hufft he’s years older than you. let him take care of himself for awhile. you should enjoy brandon flowers!!!

I smiled because there was a truth in that.

When I put my phone away, I saw you were walking over with your friend, and I had to put up a smile. As the two of you came closer, I began to realize how tall your friend was. He had such a radiant presence as you introduced the two of us, “This is my girlfriend.” You said, with your fingers latching to my waist in all of a sudden. We shook hands and you rambled about where he was working, how the two of you knew each other from high school, but all I could think of was how I just wanted your hands to stay there on my waist even after he left.

             Maybe it was your ability to make me nervous and anxious even after all these years, but I had to visit the loo, so I whispered in your ears to ask you to hold my phone and purse while I took time to the portable loo. You kissed me in the cheek and said, “Okay. I’ll be here with Joon.” And I bet your friend Joon would think we were perfect.

When I went out you were nowhere to be found. My heart plunged as all my belongings were with you and that this place was huge. I frantically looked around for awhile before what I had not wished to happen was about to happen.

I didn’t know where you had suddenly appeared from, but in all of a sudden, you came back and yanked my arms and dragged me off of the main arena to the back of Food & Beverages tents, where no one was around. I had been dragging my feet to balance your long stride, that when you finally let me go, I lost balance and fell on the graveled terrain.

“What’s happening?!”

But of course, the silence.

From afar I could hear the commotion of scream, and the bass riff of The Killers’ ‘The Man’ setting off. The show had already begun.

You stood there, taking my phone out of my purse, showing me the screen, which displayed the text conversation I had been having earlier on with my close friend. It was apparent that you had been going through my phone while I was at the loo. I should’ve known. It came to me as no surprise.

“Talking about me now?”

“You shouldn’t have done that,” I sighed, and started to get up to take back my phone from your hands, “The show’s starting now, let’s go.”

Maybe I was getting bored by your antics. Maybe I rolled my eyes a bit as well. Maybe it was my disregarding your inquisition. Maybe that was why you started to grab my wrist, this time with your nails dug onto my skin, “Ouch! Stop it, you—”

Mindlessly, you threw my phone right on my face with your free hand. The phone hit my chin then bumped off the ground. For a split second I tried to dodge away from it, which caused me to tumble down.

I was startled. It didn’t hurt, at least not on my face. That never happened before.

Something about the way your chest heaved and the way you stared at me told me you were in disbelief at what yourself had done. Maybe it was seeing me slowly losing any trace of expression as I stared at you piercingly. Maybe you thought it would be better to see me cry so at least you’d know there was still a remnant of me that was anticipating your consolation.

I sat there on the ground for a while, feeling the ground beneath me trembled to the music, and all I could ever think was—funny. Because the guilt, the suffocation I had earlier on?They suddenly vanished, and was replaced by a strange feeling: annoyance. I was annoyed that the gravels hurt my knee. I was annoyed that my phone cracked. I was annoyed by the fact that instead of being on the front row of a highly anticipated show, I was here in the presence of a sorry man, at the expense of my dignity.

I picked up my phone from the ground. Dusted the gravels that had pierced through my knee and walked away.

“Where the fuck do you think you’re going?” You yelled, trailing my steps as you broke down your pretense and I could start to sense a hollow in your patron. You had this deep and stern voice which I always loved, and I was frightened of. But honestly, who would care when all I was hearing was the blasted voice of Brandon Flowers?

“To watch the show.”

“I—” You tried to reached for my hand, but I yanked it off of me, “—didn’t mean it. I’m sorry. Please.”

There was a handful of distance between us by that moment. The band was deep into their second song now. I wanted to watch the show.

“Just watch the show with me.”

“No. We need to talk.”

“No? I’m here to watch the show. I just want to watch it—”

“NO!” You never yelled, but this time you did, although you quickly brought it down and closed the space between us, “I want to talk with you or I’m leaving.”

I thought about it for a couple of seconds, trying to locate the last damn I gave about you, “Maybe you’re not used to hearing this because I’ve always refrained from being honest with you for five fucking years. But I don’t want to. And I don’t need to do—”

“You listen to me now—”

And I just snapped, “You really need to get your shit together.”

It was almost comical to see the pride on your face seeped away, “What?!”

“You need to stop using me as your punching bag. You keep projecting your failures—”

“—you don’t matter to me.”

“—at me. You hate yourself but you’re too proud to admit it, so you put it on me—”

“—I could have had any girl but I chose you—”

“—you hate the fact that I’m doing great at my job while still having the time to like myself—”

“—you’re not pretty. I’m not even attracted to you when—”

“—I FEEL SORRY FOR YOU!” I screamed. As loud as I could be. Which eventually shut him up, “I really do. You think you can use my insecurities against me? Well try again.” And alike to the stream of river that finally makes its way to the ocean, I let go of my final defense. I cried because I felt relieved, it could never get any better than this, “and this is my favorite song. I won’t let you ruin my night.”

The Killers was moving into their third song in the set-list when I finally walked away from him for the last time as they made their way into my favorite verse of the song. It says:

“Maybe a thief you stole your heart. Or maybe we drifted apart.”

[olivay-official]

Red: The Untold Story of a Reluctant Hero

Synopsis: This is the story of Red, a normal college student with superpowers, though her friends call her Jay... and none of them know about the whole superpower thing. Sarcastic, chronically sleep-deprived, and always hungry she's the happy in-between of Deadpool and Spiderman that you never knew you needed!

Prologue: Oliver

I can say with confidence that one of the best and worst things to happen to me happened all in the same night. It's funny how something horrible can lead you to something… amazing.

It was the night I had met her. Our city’s own local superhero. Well, I guess superhero was kind of a stretch. No one really knew much about her and the media couldn’t figure out what to call her. She had a variety of names most of which seemed to pick out the color she always wore: Red. She was called a vigilante by some, a menace by others, it really depended on who you asked. The media often chose to report on her fashion choices rather than the actual criminals she helped put away. Her costume did, however, lack a certain flare you might find in a comic book or movie. She most often wore something you’d go to the gym in, though the colors were always consistent. There was only one resource of decent coverage on the superhero/vigilante, a blog called ‘The Red Underground’. It was the only real resource I had to go off of for what went on in the city. It exposed a lot of real stuff going on that the news hardly ever talked about including the Bone Crew, a nasty gang that the cops and media would rather pretend didn’t exist.

It was all of this that had led me to her.

I had been looking at colleges. It wasn’t so much that I even needed to go to college. My father already had a job lined up for me and I was more than capable of doing whatever I damn well pleased without taking the extra four years. But college to me had always been more about independence. A way to get out from my father’s overbearing thumb. I mean the guy meant well but there comes a time when a kid needs to get his own life and mine had been seriously lacking in the last 18 years. So I snuck out to visit a local college on the other side of town. I had even called and set up a damn tour for myself. 

The school itself wasn’t exceptionally impressive but the location was nice, close enough to home that my dad wouldn’t completely freak and far enough that I would need to get my own place. It was practically a dream come true.

The sun had gone down by the time I finally headed back home. In an effort to enjoy my newfound freedom I decided to walk home. I had hardly made it off campus when I noticed two men following me which wouldn’t have been alarming except for the fact that both men had skulls tattooed to their face. One man was completely bald the details of the skull printed across the shiny skin. The other had a notable crew cut with a strong fade- probably to show off the markings on the side of his skull. I could feel my heartbeat pick up and my palms begin to sweat. Not that I was particularly afraid of them but clearly their proximity wasn’t a good thing. I picked up my pace and noticed the immediate increase in their own. There wasn’t any doubt in my mind that they were following me. In an attempt to lose them I began taking quick turns onto streets I didn’t know very well- not my best move… I ended up making a poorly chosen turn into a dark alleyway. Turning quickly on my heel I ran straight into the two thugs blocking the entrance. I backed up slowly body tensing as it recalculated my fight or flight instinct. The two men smiled wickedly at me sharing a knowing look before pouncing into action. Their moves felt choreographed, the two moving in perfect sync both grabbing a shoulder and shoving me into the concrete wall. I grunted as my back slammed hard against the surface of the building.

“Now pretty boy why don’t you tell us where you keep your wallet?” The bald one hissed as he gripped the front of my shirt tighter. I felt the situation was a no brainer- give them the cash, what did an empty bank account matter when a cut throat was on the line?

“Right back pocket,” I answered dutifully. The bald man smiled as he reached his hand back to slide the leather wallet from my pocket. The man flipped it open greedily with the one hand.

“You got your cash, mind if I have some fun with this one?” Crew cut asked his partner all the while keeping his eyes steadily trained on me a dark glint in them making me swallow hard.

“Do what you want with him, not my type anyways,” Bald boy snickered. My eyes widened at his words, suddenly I didn’t think my cash was all they wanted… Crew cut pressed close to me a sinister grin playing on his lips. He slid something from his pocket and with a flip of his hand a blade was pressed to my throat.

“Try to fight me and I’ll slit your throat,” He cooed moving close to my ear. I could feel his other hand moving down my body. I was in a word: petrified. It’s never talked about, either because it doesn’t happen as often or because the victims are too afraid to admit what happened to them, I idly wondered if I would fall into this same category. After all it was either suffer the traumatic event and its lasting effects or lose my life. There was only one way to find out and I was quickly barreling towards one of the two options. I squeezed my eyes shut as if that could block out the horrors of what was to come.

“I have to admit, he does have a nice face but I don’t think that’s a good enough reason to excuse rape,” A girl’s voice sounded boisterously from above. I opened my eyes to find a small girl sitting on the lowest rung of the fire escape across from us. Her dainty feet dangled over the side as she surveyed the scene. Both men stood frozen staring angry daggers her way. My mouth hung open. This is the vigilante?! The girl was so much smaller than I had imagined. She looked to be about half my size maybe less. Her hair was pulled up in a messy ponytail and her clothes were tattered and stained with blood. Bruises speckled her skin even dotting her pretty round face. She grinned down at the men as she awaited their answer.

“Get out of here little girl before someone gets hurt, and believe me you don’t want that someone to be you,” Bald boy quipped.

“Let me just tell you how this is going to go, I’m going to kick your ass first because well that knife just has to go, and then I’m going to kick your ass while your rapey friend over here watches. And if you two are really lucky you’ll stay conscious through the whole ass kicking ordeal. Hell, I’ll even throw in a pretty black eye while I’m at it!” The girl taunted as she wistfully kicked her feet back and forth. She approached the entire situation more like it was a nice evening stroll with friends than a gang’s mugging and violation of humanity. The two men looked at each other with bewildered looks on their face before turning to the questionable hero with a snarl.

“I think what you need to do is shut-” Crew cut had turned his knife towards the girl but before he could finish his reply the girl had swung off the handle bars flying feet first through the small space. Her feet collided with the mans face knocking him into the concrete next to me with a sickening crack. The knife clattered to the ground. Her feet pushed off his skull and she flipped gracefully backward onto the ground in front of me. She gave me a wink before swiveling towards her next opponent already poised for his attack. He charged her, arms extended as if he were going to take her out by the legs. At the last second, she side stepped his move her hand bolting out to take Bald boy by his neck. Using his momentum against him she sent him headfirst into the concrete wall following his friend’s path on the collapse down. She dusted her hands off placing them on her hips and clicking her tongue.

“I so wish the two of you had stayed conscious long enough to see how pathetic you look,” She sighed before pulling a handful of zip ties from her pocket. I watched as she dragged the two bodies to a storm drain and promptly tied their hands, multiple times, to the railing. Finally turning back to me she smiled apologetically. She strolled over to me and picked my wallet up off the ground.

“I believe this is yours.” She offered me the worn leather wallet. I nodded and hesitantly took it from her. Her hands went back to rest on her hips as she regarded my state. Her eyes were striking, a bright gray I had never seen someone wear before, thickly rimmed with dark lashes.

“Any chance you know where the nearest phone booth is? I gotta call this in.” I blinked in surprise at her words- she was going to take care of everything for me- no statement from me whatsoever, and no chance my dad found out about this or anyone else for that matter (so maybe it really was that men were afraid to talk about being the victim). My previous assumption of her size had been correct, the girl stood nearly a foot shorter than me, and though fit verged on the thin side but that didn’t stop her from single-handedly kicking two guy’s asses as if it were nothing.

“I- I don’t,” I stammered out. The girl frowned a beautiful pair of full lips. Before I could stop myself I found my eyes surveying her. A colorful patch of purple marks about the size of a fist decorated her stomach, a few fading scrapes appeared along her chin and arms. She smirked as she observed where my gaze had gone.

“The rumors aren’t true,” She told me.

“Huh?” My face suddenly felt hot as I met her piercing gaze once more.

“I don’t starve myself, I just have a killer workout routine,” She chuckled and to my surprise I found myself releasing a nervous laugh alongside her. She nodded towards the alley’s opening.

“Try not to run into any more trouble on your way home,” She ordered me. I nodded following her instructions to the mouth of the alley. Before I could completely leave though I turned back around to face her.

“Hey-” I called voice uneven. Her head looked up from the crooks she had saved me from. “Thank you- for saving me,” I finished awkwardly. The girl grinned as she looked at me.

“It’s just what I do,” She said with a shrug but the smile didn’t leave her face. I found myself smiling as well.

It was then that I decided I would do anything I could to help her.

She was a hero.

Chapter 1: Red

Some might say I’m a superhero. Me? I prefer local badass but superhero is good too. And I guess I kind of was a superhero. I wore a mask and stopped crime. Hell, I could do things that shouldn’t be possible.

Yeah screw it I’m totally a superhero.

“Earth to Red, are you in there?” My tech whiz of a sidekick shouted in my ear.

“Yeah yeah I hear you,” I grumbled. He normally only communicated to me through an earpiece. He handled the details of crime-fighting so I wouldn’t have to. Don’t get me wrong the guy could kick some serious ass if he wanted to but it was a rare occasion for him to ever need to.

“Kind of a slow night,” Napster noted.

“Yeah it's boring-” I froze, body tensing as I heard a scream. Finally something good! I ran towards the sound. They were easy to find only two buildings over from the rooftop I had been perched on. A woman fought for her bag from a kid with a green mohawk. I smiled, it was almost too easy. Silently I slid down the drainpipe on the side of the building. On the ground lay your usual alleyway muck and trash. I opted for a sturdy glass bottle. Giving it a light toss it hit its target. Upon impact with his head, the boy let go of the bag and the woman took off running. The boy turned to me growling.

“Sorry man but that purse just totally clashed with that outfit,” I said leaning casually against the brick wall of the building.

The boy glowered at me and without a word his entire left arm morphed into a crystalized blade nearly the length of his body.

“Well, that’s… new,” I said trying to keep my mouth from hanging open.

“Holy shit!!”Napster shouted. Not helpful.

Blade boy came at me fast.

“You know just because you can give yourself a haircut,” I said ducking under his arm as he swung at me, “doesn’t mean that you should!”

The boy bared his teeth and took another literal stab at me. I jumped over his attack plowing my feet into his face and kicking off him. The force knocked him on his back as I did a backflip onto my feet.

“Uh, Red we might have a problem,” I heard Napster in my ear. I groaned in response.

Blade boy snarled as he scrambled to his feet. I scooped up a bent lead pipe off the ground. Taking my own swing this time I went for the arm and his galdamn arm cut through the pipe! He grinned at me. I did not care for that.

“The girl with the purse was working with him, they robbed a jewelry store two blocks over, the purse was full of the loot,” Napster told me.

“WHAT?!” I practically screeched. Distracted I didn’t move fast enough when Sparkles swung at me. A shallow slice split across my stomach.

“Ah!! Fuck- it must be a bitch to wipe with that thing!” I shouted. He sneered.

“Classy,” Napster commented.

“I’m busy can you just handle this?” I asked annoyed. In response, I heard Napster’s bike rev into the earpiece. Blade boy gave me a confused look.

“Voices in my head, they just demand to be heard,” I quipped with a shrug. The boy scowled.

“Don’t you ever hear voices?” I asked as I came at him swinging. He dodged easily and I nearly lost my hand when he came up to block my next punch.

“Fine don’t talk, I like the strong silent type anyways!” I took a couple of steps back and came at him running. He went for the attack but my target was lower. I let my body fall sliding clear under his crystalized blade and through his legs to the other side. I jumped to my feet running up the side of the brick wall to the top of the dumpster. One foot touching down I quickly pushed off crotch slamming into the side of his face as I used my forward momentum to twist and flip him onto his back. Disoriented, I took a moment to punch him in the face… hard.

The blade receded back into a human-looking arm as he fell unconscious.

“Strong silent type huh?” Napster chuckled as he appeared in the alley-way dragging the struggling woman behind him by her handcuffs.

“Better than street-naive tech geek. What the hell are you doing?” I asked eyeing the still very aware girl next to him.

“Well it seemed a little extreme to knock her out,” Napster snorted. Without hesitation, I punched the girl straight in the nose and she went limp, Napster caught her giving me an incredulous look.

“What, don’t tell me you’re afraid to hit a girl in this line of business. Besides if she started screaming someone could be dumb enough to let her go,” I told him.

“How are you going to tie him up. Zip ties aren’t going to work with that arm,” Napster asked as he half dragged the girl over to a drainpipe to secure her to.

“Yeah his arm looked like crystal, could probably cut through anything…. So I have to make sure he won’t want to use it.” I smiled to myself.

Five minutes and 48 zip ties later and I had successfully zip tied the boy's hands into his pants.

“See this is what happens when you try to shish-kabob someone- karma’s a bitch,” I said to the unconscious boy as I finished off the last zip tie. “Alright, Napster you can call it in to the cops. Let ‘em know about the whole arm thing if you can,” I said admiring my handiwork.

“Your problem-solving skills concern me,” Napster muttered.

“Well, he’s not cutting his way out now! This whole super-powered villain thing is getting out of hand. I don’t even know what the cops can do with this guy once they remove the zip ties,” I shook my head.

“Are you sure you can’t tell me more about how you got your powers? It could help me figure out where all these suped-up villains are coming from,” Napster said as I began pulling myself up onto the fire escape.

“You know everything you need to know about how I got my powers,” I said taking a look at him.

“That you have them?” Napster’s sarcastic tone was clear. His dark eyes sparkled with a hint of humor and curiosity as he looked at me. For a moment I wondered what he was like in the real world.

“Precisely!”

I climbed up the fire escape shaking my thoughts of Napster, it was about time for me to return to the real world as well and he had no place there for me.

[hellzyeahthewebwieldingavenger]

Spider-Man: Far From Home Thoughts Part 1 a.k.a. MCU Chapter 23

As I did for Homecoming I’m going to split my thoughts on the film up based on looking at it as a film unto itself/part of the MCU and then separately looking at it in terms of being an adaptation. 

However in trying to write the former section I soon realized it was more practical to further partition coverage of the film.

Because MCU films can be looked at not merely as part of a film trilogy/quadrilogy (or as the latest chapter in a specific character’s arc) but as installments in the wider MCU story. Spider-Man: Far From Home is in essence simultaneously ‘Marvel Cinematic Universe Spider-Man 2′ and ‘Marvel Cinematic Universe Part 23′. And those two lenses do affect how you evaluate the film.

So as such I’m going to have three sections across...however many parts it takes. These posts are something of a stream of consciousness so I’m aiming for 3 parts but we’ll see what happens.

Let’s start with how this stacks up as the latest installment in the MCU Saga.

On a scale of Iron Man 3/The Dark World/Captain Marvel to Winter Soldier/Civil War/Endgame, Far From Home sits comfortably in a middling position, much like its predecessor.

Like Homecoming it’s a mostly entertaining time killer, decent popcorn fun...just not quite as high quality popcorn fun as say Avengers 2012 or Iron Man 2008.

Speaking of Iron Man his post-humorous presence in the film illustrative of a strength and weakness of the MCU’s narrative style, hence I’m going to talk a lot about it here.

Whilst the MCU is often touted (even by Disney themselves) as replicating the comic books’ shared cross continuity nature, in truth it doesn’t.

In Marvel comics one can mostly follow Iron Man or Spider-Man or Avengers runs on their own. The shared universe is there and comes into play at times, but really you don’t need to follow everything.

With the MCU, whilst a lot of the films are accessible you really couldn’t just watch the Iron Man Trilogy and call it a day because Tony’s arc plays out across other films too, it climaxes 5+ years after his last solo film. In essence the MCU is like a TV show wherein you get 2-3 episodes per year and the season finales are the Avengers movies.

This is relevant to Far From Home because, despite what anyone tells you, this is the start of Phase/Season 4 and it feels that way (it more or less states that to you at the start of the movie). As such the film acts as MCU Spider-Man 2 but also MCU Chapter 23/MCU Book 4 Chapter 1 and HAS to address the fallout of the last episode/chapter/season finale.

Thus Peter’s arc in FFH gets hijacked as a kind of Endgame/Tony Stark post-mortem...sorta. We’ll talk more about that in another post, but understand that in so far as Tony’s post-mortem does hijack the movie it undermines Peter’s personal narrative.

However, in regards to the post-Endgame state of affairs it is rather unsatisfying, almost disrespectful.

And by disrespectful I mean that as the Marvel Studios logo opens up we have a rendition of ‘I Will Always Love You’ (the Whitney Houston version I believe) over poorly picked out, low res stills of all Avengers who died or didn’t come back in Endgame; to the film’s credit it does look like something a high schooler would make. That is followed by the first of two clunky exposition drops played for laughs and repeating the unrequited romance joke between Betty and Jason from Homecoming, complete with a focus upon Jason’s bewilderment over now being older than his little brother. Oh and let’s not forget the gag about the high school band turning to dust and then reappearing in the middle of a basketball game to wacky effect. The film even makes a point of not  addressing if the Avengers are even around as a team anymore, which is likely a meta commentary as well.

I’ll give the movie this, it made it’s intentions clear. It was not going to really treat the aftermath of the biggest MCU movie with much weight, it was going to be a superfluous, light, fluffy funfest. That’s a stupid direction to adopt after Endgame but at least it didn’t try to trick the viewers that it would be anything else.

Now in spite of that tone and approach the film could still explore how the post-Endgame world has changed. Maybe we won’t get anything dark or dramatic per se, but at least we’ll get some information right?

In fact, as much as I had disdain for this film going in, seeing the post-Endgame MCU was what I was really interested in. And the film delivered on that...initially...in the very same clunky exposition drop played for laughs.

We don’t talk about the blip again apart from 3 or 4 quick references, one of which explained who Mysterio was and why he could’ve duped Fury.

As for how this affected Peter, it didn’t. Many speculated Aunt May might’ve survived the blip but no, we’re told very explicitly she disappeared too.

This is very much a mixed bag for FFH as an MCU film and as a Spider-Man movie (yes I know I said I was separating those two things but it’s more efficient for this next part).

On the one hand for those who want to follow the broader MCU story FFH gives them answers but brief ones. It’s the equivalent to simply googling the answer to a murder mystery rather than experiencing the story unfold towards that answer. We had a huge opportunity to examine the ramifications of such a globally changing phenomenon but we simply acknowledge it happened and then press on as though it didn’t. The same opening exposition makes that clear too when it says that they’re moving on.

On the other hand were the film to properly explore the ramifications of the blip it would hijack the whole movie, even more than the Iron Man post-mortem already was.

On the other other hand having everyone of relevance to Peter’s life (sans Happy and Tony) die and come back, keeping them all ‘synched’ with him basically, is extremely convenient.

On the other other other hand it’d derail his narrative in a huge way if MJ or Ned or May (who’s still not ‘Aunt May’ btw because fuck this movie) were suddenly in their 20s.

On the other x4 hand the presence of such a massively fantastical event like death and resurrection (along with aliens and space technology) has already derailed the verisimilitude of his solo films which began by painting themselves as comparatively more down to Earth and ‘friendly neighbourhood’ even in spite of alien tech being repurposed. The same applies to having him go on international adventures; yet another inconsistency between this and the last Spidey movie.

So it’s very much a case of pick your poison.

Getting back to this film as a Tony Stark tribute, when viewed as part of the ongoing MCU saga it’s presence and handling succeeds more than it fails.

As I said Tony began the MCU and along with Cap was one of the twin pillars holding it up, so his death demands examination. On a metatextual level we need a film grieving Tony Stark before we can move on to the next step.

So in this regard the film giving so much attention to the hole left behind by him and how that’s really the impetus for the entire primary plot of the film is incredibly fitting.*

This applies to Mysterio in a sense.

I’ll talk more about his place when compared to certain other villains in a future instalment, but in the context of this movie his role as a kind of evil Iron Man/pretender to Iron Man’s throne works well. In fact he’s an exceptionally great villain...for Iron Man.** You see where I’m going with this, but that’s for another post.

Lets switch gears a little and discuss another wider MCU element, Nick Fury. At certain points of the film I felt Fury was out of character and a huge jerk. But twist at the end that it was actual Talos mitigated all that, it made sense. It also addressed another huge problem I was having with the movie up until that point, the absence of other heroes.

Like in the trailers the movie takes strides to address why Thor, Captain Marvel and Doctor Strange can’t help out against the Elementals. But of course this leaves the huge problem of literally everyone else. You could make a case for Falcon and Winter Soldier being of little use against such seemingly powerful foes like the Elementals, but what about Scarlet Witch, Black Panther, Valkyrie, etc? Thankfully the Talos reveal addresses this as Talos is ultimately not Nick Fury so wouldn’t have access to all those heroes.

It also sets up for future films, implying the Kree/Skrull War is far from over and that we will soon be seeing S.W.O.R.D.

Really that’s all there is to say about the movie moving forward into the MCU.

We get answers but they’re underwhelming and unsatisfying whilst getting a movie grieving Tony Stark and making the audience feel his loss.

If only Spider-Man himself seemed to feel as upset...

*Too bad all the comedy and light teen drama crap undermines it.

**In fact the entire villainous crew and villain scheme revolves around Iron Man’s legacy. I guess that makes this film also a.k.a. Iron Man in Memoriam