#yeah i said stunt; handle emotions with care

[damianwaynerocks]

the funniest thing about the batfamily is that they're so smart but they all have zero introspection skills.

the batfamily is smart. so smart. and they deal with the mentally ill population all the time. and most of the time they treat them good! they help them!

i find it absolutely impossible that bruce isn't educated on psychology. there's no way he isn't. no way he hasn't studied psychology, whether it was to understand the joker or any other villains, whether it was to learn how to instill fear, practice for going undercover, hostage negotiation, how to tell the difference between mental health issues and just violent criminals (because he wouldn't know which ones he could talk sense into without understanding why they were doing it), whether it was to learn better methods of interrogation, or even just an interest in how the brain works.

and i guarantee most of the other batkids are too. bruce had to have taught them that so they could learn how to go undercover or how to tell whenever violence is necessary or if you can just talk them down.

dick has a law degree, which means he had to do undergrad. i think it's insane to think that he wouldn't have taken a psychology class. he also was able to understand damian and how to handle him, and he wouldn't be able to do that if he wasn't aware of how his upbringing would've shaped his neural pathways.

tim has a genius level iq. no way he doesn't understand how the brain works. also, he was able to tell that bruce was in a terrible mental state just by observing him as batman, where bruce does everything in his power to hide his emotions. he's also, several times, shown to be one of the only if the not the only batfamily member to understand why jason acts the way he does.

damian likely isn't terribly empathetic to mental health issues. probably a little more now, but not very. but like. he might not be empathetic to it but there's no way he doesn't understand how it works. how the frontal lobe works. how the amygdala works. how to manipulate someone.

stephanie was in college, and just like i said with dick, i find it hard to believe she wouldn't have taken a psychology class.

cass is cass. enough said.

also!! they all have a pretty good relationship with leslia thompkins!! a psychologist!!

all this to say: how on God's green earth do none of them realize they need therapy.

and like i get why. bruce has suppressed his emotions so much that he genuinely think he's fine. dick is too focused on being a support for everyone to worry about himself. jason and stephanie push it all down. cass, and this is not a diss because i love her, would realistically be very emotionally stunted. damian wasn't raised to be empathetic to the mentally ill and even if he was, he's 15. his frontal lobe is so not developed. plus the trauma they've all endured? the training they've had from bruce, who probably wasn't that concerned about teaching them self care and most definitely taught them to put their emotions aside. so like i get it. but also.

they know all this stuff and??? don't for a single second (except for tim that one time) be like "hmmm i could benefit from CBT and EMDR"

except duke.

how is duke the only one who's like "yeah. you guys aren't okay." duke knows. he tries to reason with them and has several times been like "you guys are crazy. why are you chill with this."

which is all to say. i'm convinced that at some point duke is going to try to sit them all down and be like "you guys need therapy. please go to therapy. I'm begging you."

[yanderenightmare]

any more writing advice? the last one was so helpful!

oh yeah, for sure!

I covered improving language and wording in the last post.

In this post, I'll first focus on constructing balanced sentences and text and then move on to more fundamentals of story writing, mainly the power of persuasion.

Alternate the length of your sentences. Here’s an example from an old post of mine: “He’s bad. He doesn’t try to be, but he’s lost count of how many times he’s promised to be better, only to break someone's heart. He’s controlling and possessive, prone to jealousy and harsh words. He can’t handle seeing something that’s supposed to be his with someone else—be it a friend, a coworker, or even the fucking cashier at the supermarket. He just can’t accept it. In his rational, he knows it’s beyond stupid, but his gut still fizzles with rage, and his heart twists and hardens up like a fist—he just can’t help it. His emotions are stronger than his reason.”  Notice how the sentences alternate from short to long, then longer and short again? This gives it that rhythm that makes it smoother to read. If all the sentences were long, it would be tedious and tiring to read, and if all the sentences were short, it would feel bumpy, like someone was constantly hitting the breaks.

Additionally, if we take the same example and you’re like me and enjoy running sentences, you’ll want to create this rhythm with pauses such as em dashes and commas to help the reader slow down. Em dashes are also perfect for introducing a character's thoughts, like this: “Manicured hands tussled in his pretty white locks, pulling on him while sucking each other’s faces, leeching off the feeling of his hands grabbing your waist—oh god, it feels good to be wanted again.”

Another standard piece of advice is to avoid starting your sentences with the same word. Especially when you’re writing actions, it’s easy to fall into the habit of “He did this. He did that. He said this. You reacted like this. You responded like that. You then did this.” but as you’re getting annoyed reading this, it’s safe to say it’s not a very good habit. Example:  “C’mon—you’re angry, aren’t you?” he asks with a quirked brow. He pauses for a moment, then states, “What better way to stick it to him than fucking the hottest guy around?” You’re stunted by this. You suppose that had been exactly what your objectives were tonight, unknowingly and much to your shame. You can at least find some mediocre solace in your next words. “I’m not that kinda girl,” you confess. It’s kind of awkward to read, right? Here it is again, fixed: “C’mon—you’re angry, aren’t you?” he asks with a quirked brow. “What better way to stick it to him than fucking the hottest guy around?” It stunts you. Suppose that had been your exact objectives tonight, unknowingly and much to your shame. At least you can find some mediocre solace in your next confession, for as it turns out, “I’m not that kinda girl.” It’s smoother, isn’t it? It’s essentially the same sentences relaying the same actions and inner thoughts, but with rearranged words making it just the right amount of different.

Also, trust your reader! In the same example, you can see that unnecessary sentences and words have been scrapped as they’re already implied by context. Let your readers read between the lines! Too much explanation becomes tedious, especially when that information isn’t all that important.

Additionally, in the same spirit, you need to be careful where you put your details. Of course, you can approach a scene by vividly explaining everything, from character A’s freckles to the tiny scar they have on their chin or the fact that they have pierced ears but aren’t wearing any earrings. All of that detail is nice, and there are times to get into it, but if it serves no purpose to the current scene then it shouldn’t be brought up. If said character A is being observed by character B, then those descriptive details serve a purpose. But if character A is at home, then those details become redundant. Your reader is always looking for clues, so when the writer throws in details and descriptions that serve no value, it’s only going to confuse the reader—worst case, even pull them out of the story. “Character A is as kind as she is beautiful—everybody who knows her loves her. Oh, and she has a dog.” Unless that dog serves a purpose in the story, it’s an unnecessary detail. The same goes for giving your characters specific outfits and such. Facts without further value should be taken away. They only serve to distract the reader and distort the writing.

This next tip is kind of complex, but it pertains to a story’s power of persuasion. It goes without saying that any story’s main goal is to convince the reader of its characters and plot integrity and credibility. In layman's terms, shit has to make sense. For example, you can’t introduce character A as a bully without reason, nor can you suddenly give them an unexplained or inconsistent soft side. Even though we enjoy bullies with a soft side. You need to sell us the narrative and answer our curiosities. Why is he a bully? Why is he nicer to character B? What makes character B special? Try to fill as many plotholes as you can, and if not, then address their absurdity or try to avoid making them in the first place. Examples of this: Filling the plothole—A bullies because of his inferiority complex caused by his obvious lack of academic skill, but B is A’s childhood friend and is therefor the only one spared. (Here, everything is given a reason behind it.) Addressing the plothole—B doesn’t know why A bullies the way he does nor why he’s different with them… he’s just always been that way. (Here, things are still shrouded in mystery, but since we’re seeing it from B’s perspective, it makes sense that we wouldn’t know the whole story.) Avoiding the plothole—A’s a born bully. Growing up the way he did, it would be surprising if he ended up any different. A doesn’t treat B any different—they’re just another loser making themselves an easy target. However, unexpectedly, B fights back. A is flabbergasted by this new development. An interest in B blossoms in A. (This one is similar to filling the plothole, but instead of providing backstory, it makes a plot out of what would have been a pothole.)

I tend to see plotholes like this in a lot of character-x-reader fanfics. They usually stem from a writer's decision to treat the reader as someone special without giving them any characteristics or extraness that would make them special in that universe. “Character A was captivated by readers beauty in a single glance,” isn’t very convincing or satisfying or any amount of original. Of course, it depends! Though there are exceptions, usually, banking the entirety of character A’s obsession with reader on their looks is relatively boring and questionable. Again, in laymen’s terms, it just doesn’t make much sense—after all, there are a million other fish in the sea. What makes the reader's beauty any different from any other person on the street? This is the unanswered question readers will be left with. Even though it would be nice to believe my beauty trumps everyone else's—it isn't very believable. As such, the story loses it's power of persuasion. So! Make the reader special in ways that would make them different in the universe you’re writing—and not something so superficial or unconvincing such as their unmatched looks. That being said, it doesn’t need to be anything groundbreaking and nor should it, as that as well can break the fragile element of believability we’re trying to maintain. Don’t make reader the most special person in the world—that’s cringe and otherwise unconvincing. Avoid this by lowering the bar and making them special to character A specifically, not the entire universe.

Here are some examples of this with characters from fandoms:

BNHA To Bakugou, Deku, and Overhaul, a quirkless reader would be special. To Shinso and Aizawa, a reader with a cat quirk would be special. To Shigaraki, a reader with a nullification quirk would be special. To Hawks, a reader with a bird quirk would be special. To any of the characters, a reader with a quirk that compliments, contrasts, or is similar would be special.

JJK To Gojo, Sukuna, and Mahito, for different reasons, a reader with a nullification technique would be special. To Geto, a reader without cursed energy (monkey) would be special. To any of the characters, a curse reader would be special. Especially if you make them compliment the characters. Example text here.

Here are some other classic examples:

Childhood friends Rivals Roommates Neighbors Brother or sister's friend Classmates Coworkers B works at a place A frequents Assignment partners Arranged marriage

Also, dynamic contrasts work well:

Royalty x commoner Jock x nerd Boss x secretary Beauty x beast

More examples of tropes here

Now, I’m not saying a reader has to be made special. Character A can like them for any dull reason, such as accidentally bumping into them on the street. But! If you’re going to preach about how special the reader is, then there had better be a better reason than “they’re prettier and kinder than everyone else,” as that feels superficial, boring, and most importantly, unbelievable.

I suppose, especially when it pertains to this, believability is a lot related to what's relatable. If your reader-character is the kindest, most beautiful person in the world, then your readers' relatability to that character is most likely drastically stretched. And maintaining the power of persuasion becomes hard.

Again, there are exceptions to this! Sometimes it works! Sometimes, that's the fantasy, and it's done perfectly!

But! Just food for thought, you can always ask yourself, “Is this convincing? Do the characters and their actions make sense? Are there any details that are there just for fun? Do they serve a purpose? Does anything feel out of place, awkward, or cringe?”

Asking these questions and altering your story depending on the answers will help you maintain your story's power of persuasion, which tends to separate good writing from unfinished writing riddled with plotholes and tedious information.

[smoshers-comment]

▶ I Had A Breakdown (Smoffice)

In all seriousness though, good therapy does help a lot of people!

[ereawrites]

Dick Grayson x Reader - Mania

this was requested by: anon

word count: 10.5k / rating explicit

a/n: sex pollen so auto dubcon (?), but both reader and dick are affected so idk

taglist: @daddyissuesmademe @idkmanicantenglish

It's your fault, really. You should never have got involved in the first place, but the temptation was just too great to resist. How could you pass up the opportunity to investigate Poison Ivy's pollen? This was the first decent sample any of you had ever managed to get - even Bruce, though you suspect there have been a few times he's managed to get up close and personal with the pollen - and normally Tim would handle it, but he's away on business with Bruce, and Damian's too young to deal with intensive research, and Jason just can't bring himself to care. So, that left Dick, and you could've left it at that. You should have. Then again, Tim did text you to recommend that you helped Dick: actually, you would never have left your room if it hadn't been for his intervention. It's Tim's fault.

The thing is, everything was fine at first; you've, perhaps, been harbouring the slightest crush on Dick for a while now, and it's always nice to spend time with him. He's fun to be around, even if his classic charm sometimes borders on teasing flirtation, and he's got such an incredible mind. You forget that, at times - he has a bad habit of putting himself down as the 'kind one' of the family, the emotional support or the comic relief, and he forgets to let himself be brilliant, too. He doesn't realise you've noticed that. Or maybe he does, but he doesn't say anything, and you've happily spent the past two hours studying Ivy's pollen together.

"It's definitely pheromonal, but I've never seen a chemical composition like this before-", you say, eyes glued to the computer screen. Dick is leaning over the back of your chair, one hand on your shoulder and one hand on the desk beside you, and you shouldn't feel as tense as you do. "-look, this section doesn't occur naturally in any species we've seen. She's synthesising these pheromones somehow, it's not like she's injecting them, but I just - I don't get how."

He pushes off from the desk, grabs the back of your chair, and spins you to face him with a half-smile. "I hate to break your train of thought, but I think we need a biochem specialist.", he says, and you suddenly notice how tired he looks: his eyes are still vibrant, warm, but exhausted. "We've done as much as we can on this, right? No shame in calling in the big guns."

"Tim?", you reply, knowingly, relishing in the way Dick's smile grows into a full grin. He's still gripping the edges of your chair, effectively caging you in: you are not looking at his arms, and you can be certain of this because you are looking very, very intently at his face.

"Having a genius brother has its perks, I know. I'll call him now. It's late in Tokyo - he won't be in a meeting, he'll probably just be awake in his hotel room, tapping away at his laptop.", Dick says, finally moving away to fetch his phone, and his voice trails off into a mumble that he clearly doesn't mean for you to hear. "God, he worries me. He really does."

It's much too warm in here: you sigh, and shrug off your jacket, slinging it over the back of the computer chair before calling out,"You're such a mother hen sometimes, Dick."

"I care. Sue me.", he replies with a faux scowl. "You don't complain when you're ill and I bring you hot soup."

"You're a good cook, what can I say?"

"Husband material!", he chirps. You feel your stomach leap and your cheeks heat up at his words. He's only teasing, but the truth of it is, it has more effect on you than you would like to admit. Thankfully, he's quickly distracted by the crackle of Tim picking up the phone. "Timmy! How's things?"

Tim's voice is dry, as always, but with a noticeable undercurrent of frustration. "Shit. I hate it here."

"Hey, Tim. Bad day?", you say with sympathy. You feel a little bad for bothering him, now; as hard as everyone in the family works, Tim definitely pushes himself the hardest.

"I'm the youngest person here by at least twenty years, and my stomach can't handle sushi. Plus, Bruce gets separation anxiety from the rest of you. The one upside is that I've been able to practice my Japanese.", Tim replies. You feel bad for him, of course, but the image of him having to comfort a homesick Bruce has you suppressing a snicker.

Dick shoots an amused smile at you - he's too beautiful when he smiles, it isn't fair - that starkly contrasts the comforting tone he uses to respond to Tim. "Don't worry, darling brother - I've got something exciting for you! Check your emails - wait, only the most recent one, though, I sent you a link to a Red Hood fanpage-"

You interject with an accusatory wave of your finger. "Why the fuck didn't you send me that? Red Hood is sexy." If Jason were here, he would probably threaten to shoot you, but as it is, Dick's amusement only grows. His smile is so infectious, like it spirals out into the air and right into your chest, and you can't help but smile back at him. You don't know if it's the warmth of the room or simply from Dick himself, but you feel as though you're going to need to step outside for some fresh air soon.

"Because of your raging crush on Nightwing, probably." Tim cuts in, and you could fucking kill him. Dick gives you a pleased wink. "I'm looking at a pheromonal compound, right? Ivy's special formula?"

You muster as much venom into your voice as you can, without pissing Tim off so much that he leaves you to deal with this on your own. "Fuck you, Tim - and yeah. It's a newer version, though - I think she's evolving, if that makes sense? Her physiology is definitely changing." Tim gives a thoughtful hum in response to your words: you imagine it's in agreement.

Dick continues your train of thought. "We think she's working with someone else, or she's been experimenting on herself, maybe. Do you have any ideas about how she's making the new chemicals?"

"I'll need a few hours. Send me all the data over. You're right about it evolving, though - it's definitely airborne. Shit, this is actually really interesting - the molecules are more compact, smaller, so she doesn't need to rely on physical touch through her plants anymore-"

The rest of Tim's words are lost to a wave of horror. Airborne, he said - you'd doubt it if it wasn't for the similar shock that's written over Dick's face - and you have not been treating this sample as airborne. Ivy has always relied on physical, tangible contact to use her chemicals: you couldn't have known, there was no way you could've known, neither of you are experts on this kind of thing - you've fucked up.

"Airborne? How... airborne are we talking? Like, don't-sniff-the-test-tube?", Dick asks, cautiously, maintaining eye contact with you all the while. *Please, God, let it be don't-sniff-the-test-tube and nothing more than that. Please.*

"Shit, you haven't been wearing respirators - have you?". Tim sounds positively horrified. It does nothing to allay your fears, the worries that you've both been infected with Ivy's pollen; in fact, he all but confirms it. Everything is beginning to fall into place now. The tension around Dick - more so than usual, at least -, how warm you're feeling, the mental sluggishness that had you calling Tim in the first place.

You're angry at yourself, for your own stupidity - not Tim, but you're panicked, you're so unbelievably freaked out, and so you can't help but snap at the phone. "How were we meant to know, man? Ivy's never even hinted at having something of this level before!"

"You're working with chemicals, unknown chemicals, I hate-"

Dick cuts in before this can turn into a full-on confrontation. You've got no idea how he's managing to keep a level head. Perhaps the pheromones are already taking a more severe effect, or maybe it's a placebo effect, and you pray that it is, but you can already feel your heart beginning to pound against the confines of your chest. "It's just pheromones, right? We know it's not toxic, at least - Ivy's victims only take a few days to come around, at most. They're just kinda fucked up for a few days."

You admire Dick so, so much. He's right, he's always right, he always manages to keep you calm and make you feel safe: you'll just have to stay with him, and you'll be okay. If you stay here, he can comfort you, and maybe the impacts of the pollen won't even be that bad. And, if they are, well, there's no one else in the manor tonight, and Dick's so handsome and kind and strong, and maybe he'll - fuck.

Tim snickers. "Fucked, indeed. Only when Ivy's in a good mood, though. You guys better get ready for a tough night. I've heard it can get really bad, especially if you're deprived of - oh, fuck, I can't talk about this, this is too funny but it's so weird, oh my god-", and he dissolves into a fit of awkward, stunted laughter. Dick fixes you with an apologetic look, but you swear his golden cheeks are tinged with red.

"How long until it kicks in?", he asks. It's a stupid, stupid question, because you feel like you're close to dying already. You know what he means, though: when will it get bad? You've seen Ivy's victims before. They're entirely without dignity, practically begging to be touched, sobbing from the pain of it all - and you've only heard rumours about the depraved things they let Ivy do to them. What they ask her to do to them.

The huff of Tim's breath crackles through the phone. "Uh - I don't know, maybe an hour? A little less, since Bruce never opens the windows in there. Just seal the sample up, drink plenty of water, and try not to freak out. It'll pass. You won't die."

///

You thought you could do it - stay in your room, deal with this alone, avoid any potential awkwardness with Dick -but you can't. It's barely been an hour. Sixty-seven minutes since you left the cave, to be exact. Sixty-seven minutes since Dick grabbed you by the waist to halt your speedy departure, touch light but insistent, and said if you need anything, come to me. His eyes were dark when he said it. Deep, dark blue, an ocean that you could get lost swimming in; but pupils already dilating, breath already speeding up. He meant it as nothing more than a kindness. Still, though, that hasn't been enough to stop you from coming onto your fingers with the image of those eyes burned onto the backs of your eyelids.

Ivy's pollen is designed to induce lust, yes, but only for the first person you see after you're infected with it. This means two things: firstly, that you need Dick more than anything right now. Your head is pounding, your lungs feel like they're on fire - the sensation between your legs isn't aching, it's agony, and you've spent fifty-two of the past sixty-seven minutes trying, and failing, to fool your body into believing that your fingers are his. The first thing you know, is that you need him, because you saw him right after you were infected. The second thing you know - there was no one else in that room. You were the only person Dick could have seen.

So, stupidly, you seek him out. You go back down to the cave, without even taking the time to wash your hands, because that's what your body is telling you to do, and you're acting more and more on instinct. Potential awkwardness be damned. He'll fix this.

Dick's facing away from you, reclined in the computer chair: his posture seems almost relaxed, just almost, legs sprawled out and left elbow visibly sticking out from around the back of the chair, like he's got one hand close to his head. You'd assume he was still looking at the computer, if you weren't so hyperaware of everything right now, but you are, and you notice more. From what you can see of his body - it's low-blue-lit from the computer screen, enough that you can make out the muscle of his legs through his sweatpants if you squint, but it's not enough, you need to see more - he seems tense. Too tense. Normally, you'd sneak closer, but your head is practically spinning now and Dick will help you. He'll make this better. Your voice is hoarse and dry when you manage to call his name.

He immediately jolts in his seat, spinning to face you, and now that he's backlit by the computer, you can barely see more than the outline of his body. God, he looks so lean, so tall - "Are you okay?", he asks, and he sounds almost as bad as you feel. You swallow thickly before responding - and, through the fog in your head, you realise that your jacket is clutched in his left hand.

You, miraculously, manage a weak smile. "I just - I thought maybe it would, you know, be better to... be together, during this. In case - if one of us needs help, or something. I don't know.". You sound stupid. Dumb. You feel it, too, and you can't even bring yourself to care. The mere sight of him is helping: it doesn't remove the pain, or any of the physical sensations, really, but at least the panic of not being near him is being soothed.

"That's - yeah, okay. How are you feeling?", Dick replies. His voice is barely more than a whisper, but you hear it as clear as if he were right up against you. Chest pressed to your back, lips on the curve of your jaw, that voice going right through you and into the pits of your stomach.

It's wrong, to think of him like this, when all he's doing is trying to check that you're alright. He knows you aren't, but he's trying.

The best thing you can think to do is make a weak attempt at a joke. "I've got a newfound fear of Ivy." Dick even huffs out a laugh, but it's just as half-hearted as your words. "I didn't think it was going to be this bad at first, Jesus - but it keeps getting worse, and, it just-"

"-it hurts. I know.". Dick nods. As you take a step closer to him, you realise that your eyes have finally adjusted to the relative darkness of the cave, and you realise that you can see his cock straining against his sweatpants. He's hard. What's more, there's a distinct wet patch leaking through the material.

When you entered the cave, you couldn't see one of his hands; the chair wasn't moving enough for him to be stroking himself, and you're not sure whether you're glad he wasn't, but now that you think of it, there was definite movement. Like he was palming himself through his sweatpants, maybe. And the hand that was close to his head, it's clutching your jacket, he was holding your jacket close to his face while he-

"Dick - were you...?"

He sighs, halfway between embarrassed and resigned, and sinks back down into the computer chair. He keeps your jacket clenched in a white-knuckle grip. "I had to take the edge off somehow, right? I'm sorry, I didn't think you would be coming back down here, I never meant to make you uncomfortable or anything-"

"I'm not uncomfortable.", you blurt out before you know what you're saying. Dick's expression visibly shifts - you don't have the mental clarity to figure out into what, exactly - but you can feel your own eyes widen as you process  the implications of what you just said. "Oh, fuck - I didn't mean it like that, I - sorry."

Dick just shakes his head. He must mean for you not to worry. You stand in silence for a while, not exactly awkward but certainly thick with tension, before he pats a hand onto the desk beside him. "God, this is worse than I thought. Do you wanna come sit down?"

Do you? Although being closer to Dick sounds like the only thing you want in the world right now - god, you can't help but think about how good he would look, if you were close enough to really study him, now that you're beyond giving a fuck about etiquette - you're also acutely aware of how difficult it'll be to control yourself. Undeniably, you want him. You've wanted him for months, really - but the pollen has taken that desire and multiplied it tenfold, made it so that it's all-consuming and painful. In your room, nothing more than imagining him, it was bad enough. Now, now that you can see his fucking cock, now that the image of him rubbing himself with a blissed-out look on his face, it's almost impossible to control.

You move to sit next to him. You can't help yourself. Once you start moving, you feel like it's all in slow-motion: Dick's watching you, dark eyes trained so closely on your form, and you're wearing nothing more than a tight-fitting pair of leggings and a thin t-shirt. After what feels like an age - too long to be apart from him - you reach the desk, and upon clumsily perching yourself on it, you see Dick looking as though he's about to pass out.

"Fuck, did I - did I do something wrong? I'm sorry-", you say hastily, but he instantly shakes his head and trains his eyes on yours. The blue is nearly gone. It's all blown-out pupils now, so much that his eyes are nearly black.

He licks his lips as if to wet them. "-no, no, but - when you were in your room - when you were alone - did you do anything to take the edge off? Did you touch yourself?"

You could say no, if you wanted to. You could lie. He would know, but he wouldn't press it, and you could save yourself the shame. For all that Dick must be struggling just as much as you are, he's exceedingly kind, so much that no amount of fucked-up drugs could change that: he's still your Dick, underneath all of this.

"Yeah.", you admit after a heartbeat, and your stomach lurches when you see his cock twitch through the sweatpants. Still, you're embarrassed, and you feel the need to explain yourself just a little. "It felt like my skin was on fire unless I did. It still feels like that, though - like it just wasn't enough, I guess."

"I can smell it on you.", Dick says lowly. Oh, God. That's hot. That's so, unbelievably hot - especially when you see his cock twitch again - but absolutely mortifying. You're torn between wanting to jump on him, right here and now, and retreating back to your room. You compromise by burying your face in your hands, and letting out a pathetic whine to signal how fucked-up you are right now. Maybe you can calm down, now that you don't feel on the verge of a panic attack from being away from him, if you take a few deep breaths.

Naturally, Dick hardly gives you the chance. You feel his hand come to rest on your knee out of nowhere; it's a gentle touch, but you can feel him trembling, and the touch sends a bolt of electricity through you that's strong enough to make you jolt. "I want to help you. The whole point of these pheromones is to make it so that you need touch - it only hurts because we're not getting that. So, I can-", he says raspily, punctuating the pause with a reassuring squeeze to your lower thigh, "-touch you, just... platonically, if that's what you want. What you need."

His voice drops down an octave with the last sentence - you whine again, involuntarily, but you just about manage to turn the sound into words.

"Dick, you don't have to - we can just push through this, I know it'll be uncomfortable for you - I mean, I know it's not like we haven't hugged and stuff before, but this is different, I don't want you to feel forced because you feel bad for me."

Dick must lean forward, closer to you, because his palm slides further up your thigh. The pain that prickles insistently under your skin is beginning to turn into fiery heat: not unpleasant, but desperate, hot, and you're starting to feel like you're not going to be able to stop if he asks you to touch him. "I don't feel bad for you.", he insists, reaching up with his free hand to peel your hands away from your eyes. He curls his fingers around yours as he continues. "I just want to make you feel better - both of us feel better. See, it's already helping, right? Just relax. This is bad enough as it is."

His thumb starts to trace circles on the inside of your thigh. It's nowhere near high enough to be considered sexual, but the movement has your legs almost trembling. You wonder if he can feel the tension of your muscles. "It's... it doesn't hurt anymore. Thank you.". And, technically, you're not lying: it doesn't hurt, in fact it feels fucking incredible. You spent fifty-two minutes trying to replicate this sensation. He's only touching your thigh, it has no business feeling this good, but each little beat of his thumb has waves of pleasure crashing through you. God, how good would it feel to fuck him like this? You're shaking, and you know it, and it only makes him tug you by the hand to stand up.

Even the loss of his touch on your thigh feels devastating, but Dick's next words are more comfort than you could have imagined possible. "Here. Come sit, if you want.", he says - whispering again, voice so low and so deep, but it's just the effects of the pollen, you tell yourself - and gestures to his thigh. "You can lean back into me, don't worry, it'll be better for your back."

This has to feel as good for him as it does for you. Logically, it has to. You've both breathed in the same pollen, his skin has the same sheen of sweat that you can feel on your own skin, you're both trembling in every part of your body, and he's still rock hard. You can feel yourself leaking, god, enough that it might have dampened your leggings and left a wet spot on the desk. What would Dick do, if he saw that? He's clearly turned on, but maybe he still has the good sense to avoid fucking: maybe his view of you as 'just platonic' is so deeply ingrained, he would never touch you down there to feel how wet he's made you. Or, maybe he wants you like you want him.

"Are - are you sure?", you stammer. You can't stop looking at his lap. His cock, painfully obvious (and he mustn't care, because he blatantly drew your attention to it), and the corded muscle of his thighs, spread out straight to form you a perch.

"Mhmm...", he hums from somewhere deep in his chest, and suddenly you're grateful that he's still holding your hand, because the sound almost makes your knees buckle. He tugs gently. "Only if you want to be close to me, though."

He says that like an afterthought - like he knows exactly what you want, and like he's hungry for your touch and doesn't want to consider the idea that you don't want to give him it. You can't bring yourself to look at him before you move to sit in his lap, because you know he'll see the desire, and for now, you're still pretending that you don't want to push him down in that chair and ride him for hours. He'd like that, you think. He'd like it if you pulled his hair while you did it.

Dick lets go of your hand so he can take your waist in both hands, guiding you down onto his lap and gripping harder when your ass inadvertently brushes over his cock. You don't mean to do it, of course, and you jump like you've been shocked: you shuffle further down his thigh to avoid another mishap, but the movement causes your pussy to just barely drag against the hard muscle - you hardly manage to control your moan, forced to sink your teeth into your lip. Thankfully, Dick doesn't seem to notice, and he helps you lean back so his chest is pressed to your back, before lifting his arms to rest on the armrests. From here, he begins to rub soothing lines up and down your arms, and he tips his cheek down to rest against your shoulder with a relieved sigh.

"Fuck, that... yeah, that feels better.", you practically gasp. Feeling him pressed up against the entire length of your body, as torturous as it is, is the most relief you've gained all evening; his legs are shaking just enough that you can feel it in your core, though, and you're forced to tilt your head back to rest on his shoulder. You'll lose your fucking mind if you don't start to relax, he's right.

With your neck exposed, though, you can feel Dick's hot breath tickling your skin when he speaks. "Good, right? It feels good?". For the first time, you really hear the tension in his voice. So much so that you can't pass it off as your own projections, or a trick of his tone - he's just as desperate as you are, holy shit, he sounds halfway to begging, he sounds like he's dying to know that his touch is making you feel good. Your hips twitch of their own accord.

"Yeah... Dick?", you whisper after a few moments. He nods in response against your shoulder, a slow, dragging movement that feels like honey dripping through your veins from the point of contact. "Are you really warm, too, or like - is that just me? I - I feel like I'm burning up... Do you mind if I..." - you trail off, instead opting to tug cautiously at the hem of your shirt.

He sucks in a deep, rapid breath that you feel press against your back. For a moment, you worry that you've gone too far - it feels so good, but it's too weird, too strange for him even now - but then he slowly curls his fingers around the hem, replacing your own hands, and starts to pull upwards at a torturous pace. His knuckles drag over your lower abdomen for just a second and your hips twitch again, and he definitely felt it this time but he says nothing, and his breathing is warm and fast against the skin of your neck; with the shirt discarded, you're left in nothing more than a thin bra. Although the room feels warm, furnace-hot, you're all too aware of the blatant hardness of your nipples, and you tell yourself it's okay, he won't notice, because you're facing away and he won't - his palm drags against your breast on the way back down and it feels so good, too good, and you can't help but whimper, "Fuck, yes-"

Three things happen in quick succession. Dick freezes, you realise what you've done and move to jump up and run for the hills, and then Dick grabs your hips and pulls you back into him, right over his cock, this time. The friction makes both of you let out a breathy sigh, but where you clap a hand over your mouth, Dick follows it up with a hoarse proposition. "I can touch you properly, if you want. It'll make all this go away, I promise - do you want me to?", he rasps, pressing one, quick kiss to the skin where your neck meets your shoulder. "Do you want me to touch you?"

His grasp on your hips is tight, wanting, but gentle enough that you know he wouldn't stop you if you tried to leave again. When you make no move to do so - you're frozen, you can't believe he's just offered to do what your body is screaming for - Dick pulls at your hips, slowly, dragging your ass over his cock and then pushing you back down. He repeats the motion a few times, rolling his own hips up into you a little more with each motion, and soon your muscles start to work so you can grind down onto him. Dick rewards you with a quiet moan - oh, you want him to do that again, you're going to make him do that again, louder and louder - and then, with a touch so light you could cry, he traces one hand over your hipbones and down to your pussy.

One finger traces your slit through your leggings, and you hear yourself moan, but you're hardly aware of making the noise - just this simple touch feels almost as good as the orgasm you had earlier, even just this feather-light pressure through two layers of fabric, and every nerve ending in your body sets alight at once. This is what you needed, more than anything, for Dick to touch you and drag you down onto his cock, and you're so overwhelmed that every muscle in your body goes lax, leaving you to collapse into his chest.

Dick rubs gently at your pussy a few more times, like he's exploring you, and then suddenly he taps right where your clit is. You cry out, and he sighs against your neck. "God, I can feel how wet you are already. You should have told me, I would've done something sooner, you know that - fuck, you're so wet, let me - let me finger you, huh? Please?"

"Yeah - please, Dick.", you whine, and when you say his name, he moans and shoves his cock up against you again. He mumbles something into your skin that you don't quite make out, and then his hand is fumbling with your waistband, clumsily slipping into your underwear and then he's there, his fingers are brushing right against your clit, you sob out a broken cry - you're so wet that his fingers brush right through your folds, gliding like silk, and by the time he reaches your hole, two fingers easily sink in right to the knuckle.

Your pussy instantly clenches down, hard, and you feel more full than you thought could be possible. Dick moans into the skin of your neck and gives you a moment to calm down, to soothe the desperate jolting of your hips, before he starts to pump his fingers; slowly, at first, but soon picking up into a faster and more urgent pace. With each movement, he scissors his fingers a little, spreading you wider every time, and he starts to mouth at your neck with hot, wet kisses. "Do you like that, yeah? Am I making you feel good? Is this what you need?"

You fling an arm behind you to grasp at his hair, and when you tug after a particularly delicious curl of his fingers, he bites down hard onto your shoulder. "Fuck, yes, yes - please don't stop, please, Dick, don't stop-"

"I'm not going to stop, don't worry, I've got you - I'm here, I'm not gonna stop, you sound too pretty for me to stop, fuck - I knew you would sound pretty, keep making those noises for me."

Your body feels like it's going through the most intense orgasm of your life, especially now that he's given up on pumping his fingers in favour of curling them in rapid beats against your g-spot, but you know that you're not even coming yet: you're close, though, judging by the way the room is spinning around you, and the pressure building in the pit of your stomach - "I think I'm close, Dick, - oh, oh, oh my god, I don't - it's never felt like this before, I don't - fuck-"

"I know, I know, baby-", he croons, and the pet name has you tugging at his hair again, the other hand white-knuckled on the armrest, "-it's okay, it's gonna feel different - it's gonna feel better, I promise, it's going to be so good, I'm going to get you there, baby, come on."

"Fuck - fucking - Jesus, Dick, keep going, just like that-!", you all but shout, and Dick continues the massaging movement right up on your g-spot: the positioning of his hand means the heel of his palm is dragging over your clit, and your hips are frantically grinding up into his hand - god, you're gonna come, the world feels like it's crashing down around you, you feel the contractions start a few seconds before it actually hits you and it's going to be earth-shattering, you know it, every muscle in your body tenses up and through it all you hear Dick whispering, come on, that's it, I've got you, come on, come on, and then you're coming-

Distantly, you can feel his fingers continue their movements inside of you, unrelenting - and the other hand keeps a firm grip on your hips, grounding you onto his lap - but other than that, all you know is the white-flash across your vision and the pleasure slamming into each nerve in your body, one by one and then all at once: this is better than anything you've ever felt, better than every orgasm put together, and it feels feels for a moment like you're actually going to black out from the sheer intensity of the pleasure.

Then, suddenly, you're back in reality. Dick is heaving for breath against your shoulder, but it's nothing compared to the way your own lungs are screaming for air - god, you think you were screaming, given the scratching sensation in your throat - and his fingers are back to a slow, steady pumping, in and out of your swollen pussy. It hurts, a little, but this one orgasm has done nothing to sate your desperate hunger: in fact, it's only made it worse, only increased your desire for him, and you swear his cock is impossibly harder against your ass now.

"You - you're dripping onto my hand, baby, oh my god...", Dick pants, and there's a heartbeat where neither of you move - then, you feel his breath hitch, and suddenly his other hand is shoving unceremoniously under your waistband and going straight for your clit. He picks up the pace with the two fingers still inside you, matching each curl with a flick over your clit, and the motions are all so frenzied, those of a man possessed with some ravenous desire, like his one purpose is to have you writhing in his lap, and you give a wordless cry - too overcome with blinding pleasure to actually make a sound - that allows you to hear his ragged words. "Please, give me another one, one more - I want to make you squirt this time, it's going to be so good, I promise, just give me one more, pretty girl-"

This time, it's not just one wave of pleasure, spreading from your core and emanating outwards; no, it's wave after wave after wave, violently crashing over you and completely overcoming every part of your body, unrelenting and constant - this one lasts at least twice as long as the last, but you're hardly in the right state of mind to keep track of time, and every wave of pleasure that rushes through you is tenfold stronger than the last. You hear yourself shriek his name in the most pathetic, broken tone, and Dick cages you in against his body as best as he can as he keeps both hands working at your pussy, and you realise you're sobbing when he finally, finally stops.

When his fingers slip out of your pussy and exit your leggings, they're dripping wet. Dick audibly gasps, and then he brings his fingers to his mouth and sucks, moaning around the digits, and through hazy eyes you can see the most fucked-out look on his face just at the taste of your cum. He licks his fingers clean - you feel your pussy clench down again at the sight - before opening his eyes, fixing you with an intense stare, and panting, "You taste so fucking good - baby, I'm not going to be able to stop, I'm sorry, I need this, I need to fuck you - please."

He's asking permission, you realise. Neither of you are in control of what you're doing anymore, and he's still asking, as best as he can, if he's allowed to fuck you. There's a terrified look in his eyes, behind the frenzy and the lust - you clumsily crash your lips against his. He tastes of your juices, but it's one of the hottest things you've ever experienced, and he moans openly into your mouth, eagerly meeting your tongue with his own. You're exhausted, but kissing him renews your energy tenfold. You're suddenly overcome with the urge to feel his cock - inside you, yes, but you want to see it first, you want to make him cry out and moan and gasp for you - so you manoeuvre in his lap, keeping your mouth against his, to straddle his narrow hips and face him.

"Ah - ah, god, that feels amazing.", Dick moans, broken up between sloppy kisses, saliva starting to drip down both of your chins - but it's hot, so hot - as you frantically reach down to palm at him. The instant you finally touch his cock, you're gone: there's no stopping now that you can feel how achingly hard he is, now that you feel how he twitches under your hand each time you kiss him, and it takes much longer than you would like to undo the drawstring of his sweatpants, pull them down, and wrap your hand around the exposed length of him. He hisses as his whole body jerks.

Instantly, you set a frenzied pace of stroking him, relishing in each ragged moan that you rip from his throat; he's leaking into your palm, you realise, dripping over your fingers as you pull him back by the hair and attach your lips to his neck. When you suck a bruise into the softest part of his skin - the salty-sweat-tangy hollow beneath his Adam's apple - he shouts out your name, loud, followed by, "-fuck, fu- let me fuck you, baby, please, I - I'm close, you have to stop-"

"Come on my hand, Dickie.", you plead, and you're granted a thick spurt of precum when you lick a stripe up the column of his throat: he tastes so good, his skin so hot under your mouth, you can't stop, and you croon right into his ear, "It's - it's gonna last for hours, still, you're still gonna be hard - I'm still so needy for you, Dickie, look - come on my hand, let me see it, please. You can fuck me after, just come for me where I can watch it, oh - oh, please." His moans start to pick up in volume and frequency, coming from a place deeper in his throat. He's close, you know.

You've started to grind onto his thigh somewhere along the way. It feels amazing, it feels even better because you know he's twitching and aching for you just inches away - once you finally drag yourself out of the crook of his neck, you see that you've left a damp streak on his sweatpants in the wake of your hips, and the steady stream of precum leaking from his cock has soaked the material higher up. "Come on, Dickie, come on, let me see you come, I wanna see it, I - I'll, fuck, I'll lick it clean after, Jesus-", you blurt out, too far gone to be horrified at the ease with which the words spill from your lips.

"Oh, baby, shit-” he cries, and then his voice dissolves into a broken jumble of incoherent mumbles and whines. His cock twitches hard in your palm, once, twice, three times against the rapid pace you maintain on him, and then Dick bucks his hips up into your hand, back arched, perfectly still and tense; he comes hard, almost whimpering, head thrown back and eyes tightly shut, looking so, so perfect as you stroke him through it and grind feverishly onto his thigh. It's the image of his cock that has the breath snatched from your chest, though. Several thick ropes of cum spurt from him as you work him through it, some hitting the skin of your abdomen and some dripping down the length, and it just keeps going, no sign of stopping until Dick completely collapses, after almost a minute of moaning and coming - your hand is drenched with him.

The sight of his cum dripping from your palm makes something in your stomach clench hard, painfully, and suddenly you need to taste him, you have to, it hurts so much and it'll go away as soon as you get your mouth on him. You scramble off the chair, almost falling to your knees in front of him - he rushes to steady you, even with weak and shaky arms - but you don't care about how graceful you look right now. As soon as you manage to nestle yourself between thighs, you lick flat up the underside of his cock. The taste of it makes your eyes roll back in your head. Dick spits, "Holy shit!", and it trails off into a deep gasp as you wrap your lips around him and sink down as far as you can go. You'd take your time, usually, but everything in your body is screaming for you to taste him, let him fill you, and you're in no position for argument.

With each dip of your head - punctuated with a moan from the man above you, each one becoming closer to a growl, animalistic, and you think the pollen is beginning to send your bodies into total overdrive now - you take him as deeply as you can. You're nearly gagging, but that's what you need. His hands tangle into your hair; at first, you can tell he's trying to be as gentle as he can, but that's soon overcome with a tight, guiding grip that pushes you further down onto his cock with each bob of your mouth. The burning heat under your skin is killing you now, too much to ignore, so you manage to shuffle out of your leggings and underwear and kick them away: Dick groans roughly, maybe because he can smell you more clearly now-

"Come here, pretty girl-", Dick says, sliding his hands from your hair to lift you up by the jaw. You mean to whine, perhaps beg him to let you back down, because he feels so good in your mouth - then you see the look on his face. He looks totally gone. Nothing like the Dick you know, warm and gentle and relaxed: his eyes are completely clouded over, lips parted and slick with saliva, brow furrowed with something between pain and carnal desire. You imagine you look much the same, with spit dripping from your chin, the heat you can feel burning your cheeks, and the wetness you feel running down the insides of your thighs. He meets your eyes, and there's a moment of stillness. One thumb slips from your cheek to trace over your lower lip.

Then, both of you move at once - you surge forward to kiss him again, those perfect, pink lips - you fumble with the hem of his shirt, ripping it up and over his head while barely leaving his mouth for a second - Dick's hands slide down your body to your waist. He pulls you into him as he leans forward, half-supporting your weight, and suddenly your back is against the floor and he's on top of you, kissing you hard and bruising, the chair long since kicked away and forgotten about. Every inch of freshly exposed skin feels like molten silk under your touch: you slide greedy hands over his torso as he licks into your mouth, feeling the network of ridged scars and each ridge of muscle. Thankfully, Dick grants you a few precious, savoured moments to feel his skin, while he alternates between rolling his hips against your bare pussy and kicking off his sweatpants.

It's all ungraceful and clumsy - wet kisses stolen between your movements, each of you moaning against the other's lips - and it takes much, much too long for both of you to finally shed yourself of all your clothes. Dick's hands grab greedily at your breasts as he ruts his hips against you a few times, and you can feel how your wetness spreads over his cock. Then, his hands fly down to find your knees, and he drags them to fit around his waist, pulling up until your hips are fully tilted, the stretch of your muscles verging on uncomfortable. "Oh, fuck, that's it, baby. Keep your legs there for me, won't you? Come on, wrap your legs around me - I want to get as deep as I can, it's gonna feel amazing, I promise.", Dick says, bordering on a growl now that his voice is so deep and strained, and you do as he says immediately. You need him inside of you, now; you hook your ankles behind his back, kiss him, and desperately grind your hips into his.

And then, with one deep roll of his hips, he's inside of you. One quick thrust and he's buried to the hilt, and, God, he fits inside you so perfectly: your body all but melts at the feeling of finally being filled, and you keen as you instinctively use your ankles to press his hips further into you. Dick's just large enough to stretch you out, even with how wet and ready you are, without becoming painful, and the pollen means it only takes you a short moment to adjust to his size before your body is pleading to be fucked. He's shaking and panting with restraint above you whimper, "Ho-holy fuck, Dickie, please... please move, oh my god."

"I know, baby, I know.", he says, breathlessly, voice tight with pleasure but still sympathetic. Even with him motionless inside you, it already feels so good, better than anyone you've ever fucked, and you can hardly stop yourself from grabbing him by the shoulders, pushing him down, and riding him. "It just feels so good, you feel so good - I don't want to rush it, I want to make it last. Jesus, my body feels like it's on fire while I'm touching you, I - oh, fuck, I want to take it slow, make you feel so good you cry-"

"-We have all night to be slow, Dick, you can do whatever you want to me, just fuck me-"

Dick's hips roll into yours and a drawled curse falls from his parted lips. He pulls out, almost completely, enough that you panic and squeeze him tighter with your thighs, but then he pushes back into you, slowly, letting you savour the way each nerve ending inside your pussy is set ablaze; he repeats the motion, faster, his curses morphing into sweet mumbles of your name each time he bottoms out. You can hardly breathe - it feels so good, and each thrust of his hips is met with a pollen-driven roll of your own, so it's half-grinding, half-fucking - the slight curve of his cock has him dragging deliciously against your g-spot every time. His movements are picking up in intensity now, and you can tell the pollen is taking him over completely. The same is happening to you: fuck it, you don't want to think about the pollen anymore, you just want him.

"Ah, yes! Yes, right there-right- keep going-", you cry out after a particularly hard slam of his hips. Dick is propped up on one elbow, hair clinging to his forehead with sweat, and the other hand slips down to grab at your ass and pull you up into him. He's deep enough that it hurts, but it's the best pain you've ever experienced. "Fuck, faster, please!"

He obeys, mercifully, and you think you can see sweat starting to bead on his temples. "Is this what you need, pretty girl? Come on, tell me what you want - tell me I'm making you feel good, because you're making me feel so fucking good, I swear, better than I ever even imagined - fuck, you're so wet, are you going to come again? Please, please let me make you come on my cock."

The combination of his cock inside you, and his pelvis bumping against your clit, and the overwhelming sensations coursing through your body: it's all too much to bear, your body is going into total overdrive, and it's so embarrassing that he's got you like this. You never normally beg, you never normally come so fast, but this is different and addictive and incredible - you cry out an affirmation to his words, and suddenly his hand is gripping your chin. He's fully collapsed onto you now, and his movements are more frantic rutting than anything else.

"Look at me-", he pleads, using his hand to guide your face so you're staring right into those glassy eyes. "-look at me while you come, and it'll make me come."

You can feel your muscles beginning to tense up as your orgasm starts to grow. Already, your world is spinning, and you feel halfway to blacking out from the sheer intensity, so you tangle your hands into his hair as a way to ground yourself. "Please come inside me!", you whine - the idea of being filled with his cum, letting it drip out while he fucks another load into you, it's fucking mind-blowing and you can't imagine anything better than feeling him shoot into you while you come on his cock.

Dick's jaw clenches tightly. "Are - are you sure, baby? Is that what you want?"

The next thrust hits you perfectly, and you can't help but pull him tighter into you, so his head drops to the crook of your neck. "I need it, Dickie, you know - you know that - you need me too, right? Fuck, fuck - it's gonna feel so good, I'm so close-". He spends a few moments sucking a bruise into the most tender skin of your neck before moving to press his forehead to yours. Each rough movement of his hips has you jostling against the floor; your nipples are dragging against his chest every time, making you keen, and your swollen clit is being hit so perfectly by his hips, and he's making the most perfect and breathy noises against you - he looks so fucked-out, so gone, so completely absorbed in the feeling of his cock inside you, and your vision is starting to blur at the edges as the spark in your stomach finally bursts into flames-

"That's it, baby, come for me just like that.", Dick gasps, just as your orgasm rips through you. You've got no choice but to clutch at him desperately and ride out each devastating wave as a scream tears itself from your lungs: it feels like your body is tearing itself apart with each ripple of pleasure emanating from your core. Like your body is folding in on itself like a black hole does, when everything becomes too much to bear. You actually feel like you've died, you must have, this is too good and too much and too overwhelming - you hang on to Dick through it all, and your pussy clenches down so hard he can barely move inside you, and he chokes out your name before his own orgasm hits him.

You've come down just enough to process the way he looks and sounds as he comes. Your eyes are still hazy - you kept them on him, you must have - but you nearly come again at the mere sight of him. He's too far gone to even make sounds, and instead he stutters out broken breaths through wet lips, cheeks flushed and eyebrows furrowed hard, and his eyes stay fixed on you the whole time. Even as the rest of his body spasms and rocks into you uncontrollably, even as the hand on your chin slips down to your neck and squeezes, he keeps staring at you with all the lust in the world. The best part of it all, though, is how you feel his cum spilling out into you; even more than he shot onto your hand, somehow, and you realise you're crying from how relieved your body is. Fully, fully, crying, and Dick kisses away your tears as he collapses against you.

Despite how both of you are wincing at the overstimulation, neither of you ever stop moving through it all, and you keep grinding gingerly, carefully but sloppily, against each other even while you gasp for breath against each others' lips. It can't be more than ten seconds from when you come down, before you can't control the urge to whisper, "Give me another one, Dick, please. Keep fucking me." It hurts - it hurts because he's not fucking you, he's not moving enough - you need more.

Dick keeps rolling his hips against yours in shallow movements for a few seconds. His mouth is occupied with sucking more bruises into your neck, up your throat and across your jaw: he's mumbling something incoherent, slurring his words. Each fresh bruise has you gasping his name. You're going to be covered in marks after this - not just your neck, his grip on your ass and hips has been tight enough to leave bruises there, too - and you're entirely certain you've left scratch marks down his back. You nearly come again just at the thought of that; Dick, walking around for days with your marks left on him. Scratch marks under his dress shirts when he's on business, or under the tight material of his Nightwing suit, or blatantly visible through the obscenely sheer shirts he wears out clubbing. He's going to be marked as yours.

"You look so pretty like this, holy shit-", he says, pulling his head from your neck to admire his work. "You're so gorgeous - you always are, you always fucking are - but you look even better when you're mine, fuck-"

“-make me yours, then, please-"

You gasp in shock and disappointment as Dick suddenly pulls out, and his own face crumples at the loss of touch, but his palms are firm and insistent on your waist - he kisses you once, firmly, before he's manoeuvring your body like putty in his hands. You're flipped onto your stomach with another whisper of how pretty you are, and then Dick runs calloused palms down the soaked flesh of your thighs, up over your ass, over the curve of your spine and all the way up to gently, gently, press your cheek flat against the floor. He follows his hand with hot tongue, and when he reaches your ear, he murmurs, "You taste so good, pretty girl. Stay there for me. It's okay, let go. I've got you."

Uncontrollably, your ass jerks up and backwards against where his cock is pressing into you. He chuckles. He fucking laughs with his lips pressed to your cheek - maybe having came inside you has cleared his head enough that he can think straight enough to find your desperation funny - and one of his hands slides back down your body, spreading your pussy open for him to look at. You sense his body tense as he gazes at you. "...My cum is dripping out of you, oh my god."

Fuck it back into me, you think, but you're too far gone to string together a coherent sentence anymore. Your body can do the talking. You keep your cheek pressed to the floor, maybe because your muscles are too exhausted to lift your head, or maybe because it was so fucking hot how Dick pressed your head down, but you manage to meet his eyes. You plead with him as well as you can.

Dick's piercing blue eyes roll right back into his skull when he pushes into you again. From this angle, he feels even deeper than before: with one of his hands running lines up your spine, and his lips wet against the backs of your shoulders, and the steady, strong pace he sets fucking you, you're brought to the verge of tears again within minutes. You can hardly move your body to work with him in this position: he uses the weight of his body to press you into the floor, and each thrust of his hips has you moaning loud against the floor.

He brings a string of kisses and nips up your nape, so he can kiss your cheek again. It's sweet, a gentle gesture, only amplifying the pleasure that each deep snap of his hips brings. "I - I'm not hurting you, am I? I know it must be sensitive, baby, I understand if it's too much, I know - you can tell me if it's too much-"

"-no, please-", you whimper, terrified he's going to stop, "-it's so good, please, Dickie, you're exactly what I need-", and then your voice cuts out into a broken sob as one of his hand snakes between your body and the floor to find your clit. The rough pad of his finger brushes over it a few times, eliciting whimpers from you, before he settles for simply resting his finger on your clit. With each thrust, your hips are jostled against his finger just enough to send sparks of electricity shooting through your veins - every time, it feels like flames licking through each limb, and he's fucking into you so perfectly, claiming you with teeth at your neck, rasping your name against your skin - there's wetness against your cheek, like you're drooling, and you're almost certain you can feel the wetness of your pussy dripping onto his hand.

You're so swollen with desire, you can feel how tightly you're clenching down onto his cock. The mind-blowing pressure Dick's applying to your clit is only making it stronger. "You feel so good, baby. So, so, fucking good - holy shit, you're taking me so well." Then, there's a savage thrust of his hips, one that has both of you crying out in surprise and pleasure: he freezes buried to the hilt inside you. "You're going to make me come again soon, sweetie."

That means more of his cum inside you, more of his delicious moans and groans as he comes, and you say, "God, please-"

"-not yet, I want to make you come for me again. You feel so tight and hot when you do - I need it again, I want nothing more than that, please - you think you can give me another one, huh? One more for me?"

"I - I - yeah.", you stammer. You can, you know you can - your body is practically vibrating from how hard you're trembling on the edge of another orgasm - but you don't know when it's going to stop, you don't know it ever will - maybe this will go on all night, maybe he'll fuck you for hours on end and make you cry and let you lick your mess of his cock. But maybe it won't. Maybe your body will give out, or the pollen will leave his system: this will end and nothing will ever compare. You don't want to come again if it means the end of this pleasure. "...Promise you'll keep going after, Dickie."

Dick starts rubbing rapid circles on your clit with his ring and index finger, and kisses your hairline to soothe you as you sob again. "I'm only going to stop if you ask me to, baby, I promise. You feel too good to stop, I swear - I never thought you would be so fucking perfect, but now I know, I can't stop - I'm right here, I've got you, I'm going to make you come so many times you forget your name if that's what you want."

God, you're going to come again, holy shit-

He hardly gives you the chance to come back around before he's crooning, "-one more, one more for me, right on my cock like that-"

You can't even breathe. Your lungs are on fire, your vision is completely blacked out even once the second orgasm ends, your muscles and bones have turned into mush and you can't feel anything other than the sensation of flying. You're weightless, Dick is the only thing grounding you - he coaxes you down from the aftershocks with soft kisses to your cheek, and his hand tracing circles onto your aching hip, and the muscles of his abdomen are flexing with restraint against your back. "I'm gonna come, baby-", he hisses, and you manage the barest nod and then he sinks his teeth right into your shoulder as he starts pounding into you like a whore, fuck, it's sending you spiralling out of control again-

"Fuck, yes, take my cum like that, that's it, keep coming for me, holy shit-"

You're both boneless and drenched in sweat by the end of it. You're collapsed against the floor, Dick's collapsed against you, and he's still hard inside of you. You can feel his cum - it must have spilled out onto the insides of your thighs, judging by the wetness you feel there. His cock twitches inside of you with every ragged breath he takes. You're so exhausted; this is destroying your body, it's ripping you apart from the inside out, and you're terrified that if you come again it'll split you into pieces. And you want that. You twist your body, wincing against the waves of pleasure that crash over you at even the slightest movement of his cock inside you, and kiss him.

[extremelyblackandwhite]

innocence - 27

PAIRING: bodyguard!bucky barnes x innocent actress!reader

WARNINGS: none

A/N: my god i really took a whole month to write this. i am sooo sorry, but i was a bit stuck with the narrative. thankfully it’s moving forward. hope you enjoy xx

NEXT CHAPTER

Y/N watched him walk up to his bag to removal a navy blue square box. She furrowed her brows, leaning on her hands on the worn out duvet from her teen years as he sat by his side. His cheeks were dusted pink, lip stuck between his teeth as he handed it to her. Y/N merely looked at him like a child who knew nothing of the object that had been placed on top of her hands. All she knew was that it was in her hands and felt more expensive than the homemade present she had manage to hid under all her chunky Christmas outfits Bucky deemed unnecessary. He was nervous, heart pounding under the several layers of clothing he was wearing to protect himself from the cold. Rebecca had warned him to be careful, maybe to thread around lightly as she could be freaked out. His pace seemed to slow down as he walked up to the bed were she was so innocently and calmly looking at her. It’s gonna be fine, Barnes, man up, he told himself. 

     - You don’t have to accept it. I just ... I thought you might want it. 

     - Bucky, you’re rambling. - she cocked her head to the side, giving him a teasing smile as he sat by the bed. - The only reason someone should be so nervous is if they’re proposing. 

     -  Uhm ... - he rubbed the back of his neck as he set the box on the bed. All the colour drained from her face and she put her hands in front of her mouth.

     - Are you proposing? Gosh, did I ruin it? Oh my I ruined a proposal, again. 

     - Not quite. - he gave her a toothy grin. - And when did you ruin a proposal?

     - Long story. - she rested her chin against her hand.

     - Well, when my ‘ma died she left me and Rebecca a lot of stuff. - he opened up the old blue velvet box to show a small pearl necklace laying against the padded black satin fabric. - She left me this ... outta all things. Said I should give it to a nice girl someday but I’d never met a nice girl until I met you ...

    - Bucky. - her lips almost pouted as she tried not to get her emotions get the best of her. It was nothing special, it was really nothing special but to hear him, the man she was so hopelessly in love with, say she was a nice girl was making her heart beat faster.

    - You don’t have to wear it ... it’s probably too old and ... well I just wanted you to have them. My dad gave it to my mum before he got shipped off and I thought I’d give them to you ...

    - Wait, you’re not being shipped off, are you? - she wrapped her arms around his neck. - Because if you did good news first and bad news last, I’ll be very upset.

    - No, no, no. I’m not being shipped out ... I think I’m to old for that. - he chuckled. - The point is, he gave it to her as a labour of love and I want it to give it to you as a labour of love too. Except without the shipping off. 

    - Bucky, it’s beautiful. - she looked down at the box. - And it’s not too old.

    - It’s over a hundred years old.

    - You’re over a hundred years old. - she gave him a teasing look, kissing the corner of his mouth. - Maybe I fancy things over a hundred years old.

    - Yeah? - he smiled at her. - Do you wanna put it on?

    - Can you help me? - she handed him the pearls, turning around to face the mirror in front of her bed. Bucky draped the small pearl string around her neck, clasping it at the back before putting his hand on her shoulder, his head resting in the curvature between her neck and shoulder. Her finger traced the imperfect circular shapes of the pearls, soft smile on her lips. - Bucky, they’re beautiful. Thank you.

    - Thank god you like them. Sam’s been in my head all day sayin’ you’d think they’re too old. - he kissed her neck as she laughed. - Besides, I didn’t really know what to give you. I can’t really give you the moon.

    - The moon sounds like it’d take too much space in the house. Can you imagine? I live in a one bedroom flat, I barely have space for me and my thoughts.

    - Stop it. - he held her chin to turn her face so he could kiss her. - You know, missy ... you still owe me for that stunt you pulled in the airplane.

    - You know I would love to finish it ... - she threw her legs over his. - But I have to go with my mum tomorrow morning to pick out last minute gifts and she is an early bird.

   - Uhm ... you torture me. - he wrapped his arms around her. - But I’ll let it slide this time. 

Bucky couldn’t sleep that night, he stood up all night looking at her; the way the moon illuminated her skin against the dusty blue sheets, the pearls drapped over her beautiful skin. Bucky thought in that moment he was the luckiest man in the world and that maybe it was all worth it. Maybe falling from the train, becoming HYDRAs fist, Zemo, wars, everything ... maybe it was worth going through all of that because if he hadn’t gone through all of that, he wouldn’t be what he was today and he wouldn’t have met her. It was worth knowing it, it was worth having her. He remembered his mum reprimanding him every time he’d break up or start seeing yet another girl “James Barnes, you gotta stop playin’ around and find yourself a nice girl who you love and loves you back for who you are”. He didn’t believe her, he knew why girls were into him, or into the uniform so he didn’t really believe someone would want to stick around with him being a soldier. But Y/N, Y/N loved him with that and even all his nightmares and trauma. He couldn’t help but want to keep her safe despite that being what his job entailed, and it made his blood boil whenever he thought back to how someone had broken into her place, into her safe space. It made him more upset he hadn’t figured out who done it. Not even Steve or Natasha found any clues, it was almost as if it never happened but he had pictures, he had pictures of that word written across the mirror.

He could not stop thinking about it, he couldn’t sleep about it. He hadn’t been able to sleep in a while, afraid something would happen to her while he was asleep. He had failed to protect her, someone had gotten into her home and god... something could have happened and he wasn’t there, he wasn’t there to defend her. He couldn’t even do his job right. He couldn’t protect his girlfriend.  

Bucky stood up all night until the early morning when the clock shone 7:30 AM. She moved around, signalling she was more awake than asleep. He smiled, kissing her forehead as she opened her eyes.

   - Morning, princess. 

   - Buck, you need to sleep. - she said in her cute sleep filled voice. - It’s too early for you.

   - I don’t need sleep. Super soldier, remember, doll?

   - That can’t be right. - she rose up from the bed, rubbing the sleep off her eyes. - You sure you’re okay being alone? I could ask my mum ...

   - Go have time with your mum, princess. I’ll be fine, promise you.

   - Do not let my sisters give you any trouble. Or my brother ... or any of my sister’s husbands. You know what? You’re allowed to cuss them out if they do.

   - I’m sure it’ll be fine. - he watched as she got dressed and covered into layers upon layers. He had forgotten how cold England was. - You don’t have to worry.

   - Yes I have. They’re very persuasive, they’re lawyers. They will convince you to do things you don’t even want to do with you noticing. 

   - I’ve been through mind control before, I’m sure I can handle it, doll face.

   - Doll face? - she smirked. - That’s a new one. You sure you’re not trying to butter me up so I finish what I started.

   - Nonsense. - he got up from her, slowly walking up to her, hands resting upon her waist as he whispered against her ear. - It’s not like you need any buttering up isn’t it, princess?

   - I ... - her face grew warm at the thoughts that filled her head.

   - Y/N! Honey, are you ready? - her mother’s knock on the door, followed by her opening it just the slightest bit interrupted her sex filled thoughts. - We don’t wanna catch a confusion.

   - Yeah, mum. Just saying bye to Bucky.

   - Oh, Bucky ... there’s breakfast downstairs if you want. The boys are all up, maybe you can socialise.

   - Mum ... - Y/N said through a tight smile as the three walked from the bedroom into the hall. 

   - You worry too much. - her mother ushered down the stairs to the door where her father was leaned against, waiting. Y/N kissed Bucky goodbye before being pushed out of the house.

Bucky couldn’t say he was particularly comfortable. It wasn’t that her family wasn’t nice, they were as inviting as one could be but he barely knew them and the last thing he wanted was to scare them off or leave a bad impression. After all, there wasn’t a lot of his family Y/N had to impress and whatever was left of it she had left a great impression but her family, well, her family probably did not expect a 100 year old soldier bodyguard dating their actress daughter. Yet again, who does?

He walked into the dinning room where most of her family was sat down happily eating breakfast until they became aware of his presence. Bucky rubbed the back of his neck, ready to mumble an apology before Aunt Petunia was grabbing him and seating him down on one of the free seats. 

   - So, Bucky, what do you want to eat?

   -  Uhm ... just black coffee is fine. -  he spoke and as fast as he did, a cup of coffee was in front off him.

    - Don’t you want anything to eat? Oh, is this a super soldier situation where you cannot eat? Is it because you’re a 100? Honey, do you need any medication?

    - No, no, m’am. I’m just not a breakfast person. 

    - Uhm, I see. Did you sleep well? I couldn’t sleep all night with Sophie ... - Petunia looked at Claire who rolled her eyes at her. - Crying all night.

    - I’m sorry that we can’t control when a baby cries, Aunt Petunia. - Claire replied before returning to feed some crushed banana to her baby. 

    - Babies. - the old woman rolled her eyes, before redirecting her attention towards Bucky. - Do you want them?

    - Pardon?

    - A baby. You want a baby right? Y/N has always wanted babies ... of course she keeps forgetting she won’t be fertile forever. 

     - Uhm ... I don’t know, Y/N and I haven’t really discussed having a kid. 

     - I don’t wanna know about that. I wanna know if you want a baby.

     - I don’t know if I can have a baby. - he sighed, looking at any of Y/N’s siblings for help.

     - What do you mean you don’t know?

     - Bucky. - Claire interrupted her aunt. - Do you mind getting the mail? We haven’t checked our post box since we arrived and it’s probably pilling up. 

     - Yeah. - he got up from his chair before he could be asked any more questions.

Could he have a baby? He didn’t know; Steve couldn’t and Steve hadn’t. gone through all the brainwashing and shock therapy he had gone through. Besides, he refused to know and he didn’t really care about it. Why would Bucky Barnes, an ex murderer for HYDRA, want to bring a kid into this world? No, the world was better off this way and he did not want to know the answer anyway despite the idea of a family haunting his fantasies. Thankfully Claire had saved him and for that alone, he was almost certain she was his favourite sibling out of all. Checking the post wasn’t too hard and surely no one would ask about his family planning on the way to the post box.

He let the door behind him as he passed through the snowy ground until the postbox which, despite most of Claires belief, was quite empty except for a few postcards, bills and a particular letter that caught his attention. He looked around before putting the rest of the mail under his arm and started to inspect the letter. It had no stamp, no sender, not even an address, just Y/N’s name in the front written in cursive. Bucky knew he shouldn’t open her mail but he just didn’t trust it and as he ripped through the envelope, his suspicious heightened.

You cannot hide, whore. 

taglist: @disasterbii @lookiamtrying @buckysteveloki-me @americasass81 @jamesbarnesappreciationclub @lostinthebeans @mariahthelioness29 @bbabysbaby @peaches-roses-sins @theadorasabditory @sipsteacasually @saiyanprincessswanie @booktease21 @noiralei @learisa @everythingisoverratedbutgreat @uglipotata72829 @naturalthrone22 @husherstan @mandiiblanche​ @vicmc624 @newyorkgoddess @itsallyscorner @chipilerendi @emzd34 @writerwrites​ @bluevxnus​ @that-girl-named-alex​ @captnrogers​ @nsfwsebbie​ @sarge-barnes-sir​

[not-me-simping-for-blasty]

Yo, so I flew through Wrong Number, Asshole (which is 😙👌) and I thought his quirk going off over the phone was so cute. But do you think he’d be insecure about it??? Like about holding hands or trying to keep it together if his s/o says something embarrassing? And what else do you think would he be embarrassed about with s/o?

omg tysm!!! i love writing that story so much so i’m glad u enjoy it!!! we do love a good soulmate au here hehe

aNd wow what a good ask thank u for this im obsessed with it and this is gonna be soooo long omg soz

-okay so first. yes. 100,, 10000% embarrassed about it. he feels like he should have his shit together with his quirk since it’s what Bakugou’s so proud of,,,, and like that’s mostly true???

-except i personally hc that his quirk also ties into intense emotion the same way regular sweating does,,, like, if he feels rlly strongly about something, instead of normal sweating it’s just straight nitroglycerin. and he has to like actively learn how to get a handle on it as he grows too!! so like anxiety sweating? sure he’s got it under control, been there done that. scared sweating?? only gets scared in battle and he’s already exploding things by then so its all good. but love???

-oml has no iDEA how to handle it!! i fully believe bakugou’s idiotic mad brain doesn’t fall easy, but when he does , he falls hARD. so lets say he has a major major crush for the first time ever, and he’s just sweating everywhere and his skin feels like it’s on fire - mans just pops. like a bacon griddle. not full on explosions bc he’s not actively setting them off ,, but if u do something cute, something that gets his heart racing just right he’ll pop

-i kinda imagine it’s bc Bakugou can’t understand what he’s feeling bc he’s a big dumb angry person so instead of just accepting his crush he’s like “oh. my palms are exploding by themselves. and i think about s/o constantly. huh. both things at the same time must mean i want to fight them- yeah that’s it. i just wanna fight ‘em real bad.” which only leads to more little explosions.

-pLeasE heLP hIm

-but anyways, you better not say a sinGle thing about this if u see it or hear it. bc man’s is not one to be embarrassed without putting up a fight,,, and this is about explosions , something he knows,,, so he’ll be like “yeah? wanna fuckin’ make fun of me, huh? i’ll show u what to fuckin’ make fun of!” and then just decide to set off a close range explosion in his hands or blow something near u up to high hell

-what can i say, he’s an idiot??

-congratulate katsuki on the explosion tho,, tell him it was really big and scary and thats when you’ll get him reaLLY embarrassed and keep him embarrassed

-speaking of hand holding tho,, he’ll be super nervous to try at first. like he doesn’t want u to end up feeling the little pops bc you’ll ask and then he’ll have to embarrassed and explain and he just isn’t a fan of that idea alright?? quickly comes to realize tho, as he experiences it, that if you hold his hand you’ll actually smother the little explosions??? like just- nothing will happen bc there’s not enough oxygen for anything to combust unless he makes it combust. which he won’t. obviously.

-oooO and here’s sum other “embarrassing” things he does that you’re ~not allowed~ to comment on

will stare in private. just generally zone out and stare at you- don’t say anything tho!!! bc otherwise he’ll get all huffy and “what the hell are you even makin’ that stupid shit up for! I’d never be caught dead starin’ at an idiot like you” - all said while still simultaneously staring at you.

tries to impress you. like if other people are around that he think u might like, he’ll challenge them to like weird physical feats or intelligence tests or he even somehow turns telling jokes into a competition??? and he’s so competitive it’s obvious too, but u can’t say anything about it. just let him express his love through borderline violence and victory lust ig bc there’s pretty much no stopping him

will cook food for you. don’t comment on how good it tastes tho bc for some reason he finds how much he wants to take care of u majORLY embarrassing

being physically affectionate. man’s almost never grows the balls to initiate hugs or hand-holding or cuddling bc he finds it mega embarrassing to be needy so if he does?? and then you make a joke like “oh, you’re so clingy today, huh” ?? man’s will throw u away from him and never touch u again unless u ask, so just don’t say anything. pleASE

remembering small details. Bakugou’s actually pretty smart and if he likes u then he actually listens to what you have to say,,, this means he’ll remember 3 weeks ago when u said u had a test that day, and ask u about it when he sees u- don’t say any “oh! im suprised u remembered!’ or anything tho,, he’ll get huffy

-and finally, here is a lil list, as a bonus just for u my love, of normal person behaviors that you do that ??somehow?? embarrass immature and emotionally-stunted bakugou katsuki:))

If he sees you do anything embarrassing like trip, or drop food on yourself, or swallow a drink the wrong way and end up coughing, etc.,, if it was literally anyone else Bakugou would just laugh, loudly, bc he’s an ass,, but ur not just anyone else. ur his s/o and suddenly seeing you do that stuff feels so intimate!! esp bc he would’ve never even seen if in the first place if he wasnt paying so much attention to u!!!

saying hi to him first when he’s with other people. like, example, lets say he’s with the bakusquad and they’re just all just hanging out in the common room, right,, so u walk in, see them all sitting there and wave, but u say “Hi bakugou, hi guys!” just bc u were excited to see him. man’s will go rED SO FAST AND HIDE HIS FACE

bending down to tie your shoes. no explanation needed- he’s a guy.

if you go to the store and ask him if he needs anything. it’s literally so simple but for some reason his heart just seizes?? like?? ur thinking about him the same way he thinks about u all the time???? and ur concerned enough to get him something if he needs it??? please he’s goNe, just a whole-ass pile of blushing

if you’re sitting in a group and you look at him everytime something funny is said. bc ofc he’s already going to be looking at u to see ur reaction, so when ur eyes meet and you’re laughing and smiling bakugou just gets so flustered!!!

wearing an outfit he knows nobody else has seen before. this could be new clothes, his clothes, pajamas, old clothes u wouldn’t wear in public, even halloween costumes before a party???- point is, if Bakugou knows nobody else has seen you like that, and only he gets to?? boy is sO SOFT and embarrassed about it

tysm again!! this was such a fun ask!!!! <333

[zevlors-tail]

Retail Therapy

A/N: If you work retail like I do and get frustrated with your job on a weekly/daily basis, if you’re just fed up of all the crazy at work, this one’s for you! Covid has made it extra garbagey to work retail so here’s a little vent. Also, me writing soft Bakugou content? Yes.

Characters: Izuku Midoriya, Katsuki Bakugou, Shouto Todoroki

Warnings: Mentions of Covid in Bakugou’s part. Cursing. Customer invading your personal space (also in Bakugou’s part), tiny mention of anxiety in Todoroki’s scenario.

Summary: You’ve had the most infuriating day at work. Lucky for you, he knows just how to fix it.

Izuku Midoriya

Oh my god this gif is so bright i love it

“Hi baby!” Izuku greets you as you haphazardly toss your shoes on the floor, not caring where they land. One ends up under the dining room table and the other ends up somewhere among the chairs, but you could care less.

You’re pissed. More pissed than you’ve ever been, but specifically with work. You constantly feel like you’re babysitting your coworkers, and they never listen to anything you have to say, even when you’re put in charge of your department- if only for the night. Every time you turn your back, they’re pulling some sort of dumb stunt; how are you supposed to get work done like that? You can hardly focus on your own task when you’re trying to clean up after everyone else. Picking up slack is something you’re used to by now (unfortunately), but it shouldn’t have to be. You shouldn’t have to do your work and everyone else’s work too. Not to mention, you were tired of being the middle man whenever there was drama. Why did everyone feel the need to tell you everything?

“Ughhhh!” You just groan in response, half a smile on your face while a wild look enters your eyes. Izuku knows that look. He can tell you’re frustrated after a long day of work, that you’re at your wits end with your job. “I swear, Izu, I came this close to rage quitting. I mean I wouldn’t, because I’ve got bills to pay and stuff, but, just- this close.”

“Oh yeah?” He gives you a trademark smile despite your woes and invites you to follow him to the dining table where he sits down with you, taking your hand in his. “Tell me all about it.”

And you do. He listens diligently, nodding and getting into the gossip playfully, asking about certain coworkers and making silly comments to get you to laugh. Things like, “But they would never!” and “Oh my god, no they didn’t!” along with your personal favorite, a very dramatic “No!” He even makes over the top facial expressions to go with his comedic comments, and he has you laughing with him in no time, the stress of the day melting away under his electric green gaze. Your vent turns into more of a fun story than it does a bad experience. Izuku is a good listener and he’ll always be there for you.

“It was just ridiculous! Man, I can only take so much in one day. Usually I don’t let them get to me, but I couldn’t take both of them coming up to me every five minutes and complaining about each other. You know, as much as they like to talk about each other not doing their jobs, maybe they would get more work done if they just stopped talking and got back to work in the first place!” As you tell him your story, he hums a response, nods, and gets up from the table. He pats your head as he passes by you on the way to the kitchen, and you follow him with your gaze, questioning him silently.

“I’m still listening, love. I can hear you from here, promise! Do go on.”

You continue, not paying much mind to what he’s doing since you’re so engrossed in your tale of idiocy and annoyance turned silly. And he is listening to you, still making eye contact as he moves about the kitchen, still putting his two cents every once in a while. But before you know it, a savory smell hits your nose, and you realize he’s not only started dinner but that he’s practically finished with it by the time you’re done talking. He wastes no time in making two plates and bringing them over, setting one in front of you and the other in front of his usual spot.

You’re extremely grateful to him for taking the initiative to make dinner while you de-stressed after the day’s events, and you make sure to tell him that as you both dig in to his cooking. He learned from the best (bless mama Midoriya). You’re reminded that no matter how bad your day has been, you get to come home to your favorite human being on the whole planet and love him, and be loved by him in return.

“Thanks for making dinner, Izuku. You’re truly the love of my life.” You say it in such a manner that makes your partner laugh, bits of food falling from his mouth as he struggles to swallow properly. “That’s attractive,” you tease, but you’re laughing too. It’s a happy moment for the both of you.

“Good to know you only love me for my cooking!” He jokes. He eyes your plate before not so subtly reaching over and stealing a piece of food. You gasp in mock surprise, but save your revenge for later. There are plenty of ways to get even with him. But for now...

Izuku: 1

Y/N: 0

Katsuki Bakugou

soft bb

“Shit, fuck! God, I hate today!” you exclaim as you slam the car door shut. Bakugou had been kind enough to pick you up from work, and you were glad that it was him driving and not you behind the wheel. You were shaking in your seat, your hands trembling in anger and teeth grinding in frustration as you glared out of the window silently for a moment.

“Bad day?” Bakugou asked gruffly, foot gently pressing against the gas peddle as you took off on the drive home.

“Yeah, you would not fucking believe people. You’d think everyone would listen to directions and stay home since it’s like, oh, I don’t know- the middle of a fucking pandemic?”

“Oh, believe me, I know. People are stupid. Don’t let them get to you, baby.” 

Maybe those words were odd coming from him considering he used to be so angry all the time himself, but Bakugou had really mellowed out since his days at UA, and he knew how to hold his tongue. Unbeknownst to him, however, this was more than a bad day for you. Bad days you could let go of, but this- this was something else. Not quite the worst time you’d ever had at work, but much more than a bad day. Today had been somewhere in between the two, and you weren’t sure what to call it. You’d been yelled at, berated, understaffed, and blamed for pretty much all the problems going on in your specific area even though you were trying your best. There was only so much you could do yourself, and even though you knew it was better to just let it go, you couldn’t. Especially not after what that wretched customer had done to you.

“I’m trying not to, but it’s really god damned hard not to fucking smack a bitch when they invade your personal space and tap on your shoulder. In a fucking pandemic. Actually, I don’t even think she was wearing a mask now that I think about it. How considerate of her.” The words are like venom spitting from your mouth, your fists clenching as you vent to your partner in confidence.

“They did what?” Normally he’s good about keeping his anger in check. Normally, he could handle you venting to him about anything. But someone else touching his Y/N? No way in hell. And during a period of time where touching people was especially rude and inconsiderate? Fucking no way in hell.

“Yeah! Tapped me right on the damn shoulder and didn’t even say excuse me. Words exist! Just tell me you need something and I’ll get it for you! I hate people who do that shit, it’s so unnecessary and rude! And it violates my personal space and creeps me out. I feel disgusting. If you touch me at work, then I’m not liable for anything that happens to you! You get slapped? Then that’s on you, bitch! Don’t fucking touch me!” You finish up your speech with a wild hand gesture, your head shaking in disbelief while you try not to think about too much.

It takes Bakugou everything he has not to just slam on the breaks right then and there and put the car in reverse to drive back to the store and find that piece of trash. If he could give them a piece of his mind, he would. But he can’t, so he settles for the next best thing: comforting you and making sure you’re okay. You did just have your personal space violated after all, so it’s understandable you’re pretty shaken up and angry about the whole thing. He would be too, honestly. 

The rest of the short drive home is mostly silent, save for the small talk you make with each other and the quiet background noise of the radio station that he let you pick. His general rule of thumb is that the driver picks the music, but he knows you’ve had a hard day, so he doesn’t argue when you change it to your preferred station and start drumming your fingers to the beat. He’d rather you wind down this way than keeping it all bottled up. When the two of you finally arrive to your shared home, you let your shoulders fall a bit and sigh as you trudge to the couch, not even bothering to take your shoes off before plopping down and face planting into the soft cushions. You listen as Bakugou wanders off to the bedroom and returns a moment later with a shirt in his hands.

“You said you felt disgusting earlier, so I brought you a new shirt to change into. Figured you probably didn’t want to stay in your work clothes.” His tone is softer, a little more careful since you’re home now and he knows you don’t like to fall apart in public. Home is where your true heart is, with him. If you’re feeling any sort of negative emotion, it’s more likely to come out here. And he wants to offer his help, but... “Do you want some help with it?”

You shift so that you’re sitting up on the couch and raise your arms slightly for him. “That would be nice, since I’m utterly exhausted and worn out. I’d really appreciate it,” you reply honestly.

He hesitates a bit, unsure of something before he asks you a question. “Is it okay if I touch you?”

Your response is immediate. “Of course it is; I trust you. I never mind your touch.”

He smiles at that.

He helps you get changed into the ultra comfy shirt he brought you, and after that the two of you heat up some leftovers before cuddling up in bed together, the worst of the day washed away by Bakugou’s soft fingers running along your side as you lay your head on his chest.

“Thanks for always taking care of me. You do an amazing job at it.” You yawn into his shirt and snuggle your face against it, the soft cotton making you feel safe and secure.

“I love you, Y/N.”

“I love you too, Katsuki.”

Shouto Todoroki

I’m feeling extra soft for Todoroki recently

“Hi, Y/N. How was your day at-” 

Before Shouto can even finish his sentence, you’re flying into a vent about work, passing right by him on your way to the bathroom as you start to pull of your work uniform angrily.

“Oh my god, it was an absolute disaster!” You’re still breathing heavy from all the stress, eyes darting around wildly and face flushed from being mad and under pressure all night.

“What happened, love?” Todoroki coaxes gently. He comes to stand in the door frame of the bathroom and leans against it, his hands in his pockets and hip cocked out to the side. He has a sympathetic look on his face as you explain all your troubles of the day.

“Everything, Shouto. Everything happened. I mean, not everything, but it sure felt like it! Our delivery showed up late, and we didn’t have product all afternoon, so our customers were really angry and I kept getting yelled at! It’s not my fault it showed up late! If I had the product to put out I would! It’s complete and utter bullshit!” You make your way to the bedroom to pick out pajamas, not really caring about the pair you take out of the drawer or anything else for that matter. Your mind was focused on one thing and one thing only: your day at work.

Sometimes you had a hard time winding down from work, especially on days like these, and Shouto knew that. You usually were able to separate work from home fairly well, but occasionally you just needed a little reminder that it didn’t have to follow you home to bed, and he knew how to help with that. He’d seen you like this before, had witnessed your break downs and freak outs over your job and the stress that came with it. Retail was not for everyone. Todoroki always told you that you had the patience of a saint, though everyone had their own limits, and you must have hit yours tonight.

“I don’t appreciate being called names and told that I’m practically useless. Customers can be real fucking snobs all the time. And I was trying so hard too, but even after the delivery showed up, it was busy as hell, and every time I put something up on the shelf they just kept taking it down! I think I sold through at least three boxes of something I normally have to throw away at the end of the week. Seriously! It was a mess, and we didn’t have enough staff because one of us was still suspended, and our normal person who works the backroom doesn’t work weekends, and even our supervisor called off, so it was just me and this other girl. It was awful. I can’t even- ugh! It’s not fair!”

You started to work yourself up, your anxiety skyrocketing as you thought of everything that went wrong earlier. Rationally you knew there wasn’t much you could do about the situation, but that didn’t mean you felt the same way. You should have done more, pushed yourself harder, but you also didn’t want to stay and work overtime on an empty stomach and not a lot of sleep the night before. Shouto must have seen the guilt in your eyes, because the next thing you knew you were being moved to the bed where he wrapped you in the softest blanket he could find, and then he was telling you he’d be right back as he slipped out of the room.

You sat there, a little confused for a while, before you heard a beeping noise from the kitchen and the door to the microwave open and close. Todoroki returned with a steaming mug in one hand and a book in the other, and he said nothing as he set the book and cup down on the nightstand before working around you, positioning a few pillows against the headboard of the bed. He fluffed them up a few times and grabbed the giant comforter, pulling it up over your lap and practically swaddling you. Finally he sat down behind you on the bed and pulled you into his lap, and you rested your head against his chest as he petted your hair softly. Slowly, you felt all the tension from earlier on in the day ebb away into drowsiness and exhaustion.

“Alright, blanket burrito,” he said, referring to your form all wrapped up in soft cotton, “I warmed up a cup of your favorite drink and brought us a book. Do you want me to read to you, or would you prefer to play a video game or movie?” He gazed down at you with a brow raised in question, a look of amusement on his face at the sight of your head just barely peeking out from the blankets.

“If you don’t mind, could you read to me? I like your voice...it’s soothing.” You melted into his touch, work already forgotten about and a wave of calm washing over you. 

“Of course, dear.” He gave you a precious smile and kiss on the top of your head.

Todoroki always knew how to fix your bad days, and he always did so without hesitation and without you having to ask. He handed you the warm mug first which you took gratefully, and then picked up the book and began reading to you.

How did you get this lucky?

[echoes-of-the-clockwork]

Book Two: Sapphire (Ignis x Reader) Chapter V

While exploring Keycatrich Trench, (Y/n) kept her lips sealed as she listened to the boy's banter back and forth. She walked a little ahead of the group, curious to learn the layout of the area and locate the royal tomb as quick as possible.

After having located a generator and activating it, the guardian overheard Ignis scold Prompto. "Tis impertinent to ogle, Prompto."

The younger boy blinked, not realizing he'd been staring at (Y/n). "I-I, uh...was staring?"

"Quite intently," the advisor said.

"Can't blame the kid for staring," Gladio said, meeting Ignis' gaze. "It's your fault, Iggy."

"Do pray tell."

"For hiding (Y/n)."

Said girl rolled her eyes and shook her head. "I'm standing right here." She placed a hand on her hip. "And nothing's Iggy's fault. He wasn't hiding me from anyone. He was simply respecting my wishes. I'm...very shy and get embarrassed rather easily."

"We can tell," the shield chuckled. "Your cheeks are turning red."

She quickly turned away, scrunching up her shoulders. She nibbles on her bottom lip, wondering how to retort. However, she didn't need to say anything because Prompto came to her rescue. "H-Hey, that's okay! There's nothing wrong with being shy! I mean, even I'm shy from time to time."

(Y/n) pushed past her shyness and smiled kindly at the marksman. She was thankful for his intervention. "I appreciate your kindness, Prompto."

His own cheeks turned red. "Y-Yeah, of course."

Continuing through the tunnels, they tried different branching paths. Many of the metal doors were locked and resulted in them to travel deeper. Exploring one of the main tunnels, Prompto suddenly shouted in fright when the faint echo of 'clinking' could be heard. His eyes bounced around in desperation, trying to locate the source of the sound. "What was that?!"

"My bad. Kicked a can," Gladio explained with a faint smirk.

Prompto glared at him. "You are killing me here, big guy! Are you trying to give me a heart attack here or somethin'?!"

"It is rather dark in these tunnels even with the generator on," (Y/n) commented.

"Think there's something in here with us?" Noctis asked her.

"It's a dark, musty system of tunnels. Of course there's something in here with us."

"Can you two please stop?" Prompto whined.

The prince shrugged his shoulders. "Not like you haven't fought daemons before."

"No, but I don't wanna think about what's in here with us! My imagination will go wild and freak me out even more!"

Noctis continued to lead them through Keycatrich Trench. (Y/n) walked behind the prince with Ignis beside her. The two could feel Prompto and Gladio staring at them, but they ignored the eyes boring into their backs. The guardian was tempted to transform after becoming uncomfortable because of the boys' staring and scrunched up the hem of her dress in her fists.

Ignis noticed this when she unconsciously took a step towards him. One of her shy habits is to walk closer to him when she felt uneasy. He adjusted his glasses and peered over his shoulder at the two boys walking behind him. "Is something the matter, gentlemen?"

"Oh, I've got tons of questions," Gladio remarked. "And none of them are for you, Iggy."

"Same here," Prompto muttered.

"I'm positive (Y/n) will answer any and all questions you so desire to ask," Ignis replied. "Gawking will get you no answers."

The sapphire-eyed girl glanced over her shoulder at Prompto and Gladio. "Yes, ask me anything. But do cease staring. It's making me uncomfortable."

"Sorry," the shield apologized. "Still in shock at seeing what you really look like after all these years. I'm not used to seeing a woman hanging around Iggy, only a white fluff ball. Now I understand why he refused to let me set him up with any woman. He had you all to himself."

(Y/n) pauses her stride and turned to face the brute. "Iggy and I aren't an item. Perhaps your taste in women is why he refused to let you set him up on a date."

"So you'd be okay with him being with another woman?" Gladio came to a stop directly in front of her. He couldn't read her stoic expression and was trying to figure out if what he detected between the two was indeed unspoken feelings.

She lowered her head with a sigh. "If he's happy, I don't care who he's with. If he ever needs me, I'll be there. And if I prove to be a hindrance for him and prevent him from doing what he wants, I will leave so he can be happy."

All four boys stopped at her declaration. Ignis and Prompto were wide-eyed while Gladio and Noctis only blinked in surprise. The marksman stepped forward and nearly stumbled over his own feet. "B-But what about your own happiness, (Y/n)? I know you're Iggy's guardian and all, but don't you deserve to be happy too?"

"A guardian's duty is to protect the soul that which gave them life and ensure their happiness. If Ignis can only achieve happiness when I'm gone, then so be it. There's no room for my own happiness." She hung her head, hiding her face with her (h/c) locks. "May we drop this subject? I don't want to talk about it anymore." Walking ahead, she left the boys behind.

Prompto stared sorrowfully at her back as she disappeared deeper into the tunnels. He then looked over at Ignis. "You wouldn't ask her to leave, would you, Iggy?"

"Not even for a moment," the advisor declared strongly, eyes focused on her retreating figure.

Gladio folded his arms across his chest with a smirk. "I'm sensing something between you two. If it's what I think it is, you better get your ass movin', Iggy."

The tactician sighed. He wanted to drop the subject and leave the turmoils of his own heart for another time. His duty was to Noctis and that was all that mattered at the moment. "We've idled too long. Let's proceed forth."

"Right..." Noctis muttered. He glanced at Ignis and saw his cool composure was still intact as always. There wasn't even a crack. The prince knew his advisor all too well and how he never broadcasted his feelings. He was too occupied with his own duty to him and wouldn't allow his emotions to come into play. Noctis was grateful for what Ignis' has done for him over the years, but he wished he wasn't a robot programmed with one function-to watch over him. Even a straight-laced guy like Ignis deserved his own happiness and Noctis didn't want him to dedicate his entire life to him. One day he will find someone who truly makes him happy and Noctis would be more than overjoyed for him.

The prince wondered if (Y/n) was that special person and all Ignis needed was a push. Maybe this journey wasn't just for him, but for the strategist to finally stop acting like an emotionless robot and see there's more to life than being a royal advisor. From that moment, Noctis decided he would help both Ignis and (Y/n).

Unbeknownst to the prince, Prompto was thinking the same thing. He could see how much Ignis and (Y/n) cared for each other just by watching them together. Even when the guardian wasn't in her human form, he could tell how the two really cared about each other. Alongside his best friend, he would help them find happiness in each other.

Pushing their thoughts aside, Noctis and Prompto went after (Y/n) with Gladio and Ignis close behind. They followed the tunnel until they entered a room with a metal door. Looking around, they didn't find the girl anywhere. Prompto approaches the metal door to open it, but he screamed and retracted his hand when something beats on the other side of the door and leaves a large dent.

"What is it?" Ignis asked.

Prompto shook his head with a shaky voice. "I-I don't know. Maybe it was (Y/n)."

"Doubtful," Gladio scoffed.

"You never know!"

"What would be the point in her trying to scare us?"

"Maybe you pissed her off."

"(Y/n) would never pull such a petty stunt if she were angered," Ignis stated.

Gladio chortled. "Sounds like you've experienced her anger first-hand."

"On a few occasions I have witnessed her fury."

"Oh, yeah? What's she like?" Noctis pried.

"A frigid, silent anger that strikes fear in your being with a single glance from her. It's as if she freezes your blood from inside your body."

"Damn..." Gladio mumbled. "Now I wanna see her pissed off."

"She did frighten one of the parliament members quite terribly to the point of him retracting his proposal and resigning from his position," Ignis said.

"Wait, are you talking about Councilman Tenmus?" The prince asked.

"One and the same."

"I hated that guy..."

"Who didn't?" Gladio asked. "(Y/n) did all of us a favor. She must've been really pissed if she showed herself to him."

Ignis smirked at the memory. "She was quite livid with the man for his taxation statement. His sudden resignation was a welcomed surprise."

Noctis' chuckles. "I'll say. We better find her. We might need to scare off even more people..."

Eventually, the boys stumbled across a collapsed tunnel. They crouch to proceed through the small opening from the partially collapsed tunnel off to one side of the main tunnel. "First time through here, right?" Prompto asked.

"Looks it," Gladio responded. He followed behind the blonde and felt something cold on the wall. Looking towards the spot, he saw a patch of ice. "Seems munchkin came this way too."

"Think she handled the daemons already?" Prompto asked.

"She can kick ass without us. I wouldn't be surprised if she's already wiped out most of the daemons in these tunnels."

Exiting the small opening, the boys turn right at the next tunnel and follow it to the end. Ignis looked around with a huff. "A dead end."

"I could've sworn this was it..." Prompto mumbled.

Suddenly, the lights powered by the generator go out. Gladio looked around in confusion. "The hell?"

"Somebody...turn on a light!"

The four turn on their flashlights to find themselves under attack by goblins. The small daemons launches themselves at the boys, but each one screamed out in pain as a barrage of icicles pierced their bodies and killed them instantly. They each fell to the ground before their bodies vanished into nothingness. From behind the dead daemons, a figure emerged from the darkness. "The generator ran out of gas," (Y/n) stated. "Looks like we're stuck with only flashlights."

"Where'd you run off to?" Noctis inquired.

"We are here for a royal tomb, are we not?" She remarked. "I was looking for it."

"So you really weren't trying to scare us earlier?" Prompto asked.

She arched a brow. "Scare you? Why would I do that?"

"N-No reason!"

She eyed him curiously before shaking her head. "Anyway, I think I found another path. Follow me."

The boys followed the guardian down the opposite end of the tunnel. There, they pass through a narrow opening between two nearly closed blast doors into another tunnel. With a new path revealed, they located another generator. Noctis started it and deactivated his flashlight when he saw the lights in the tunnel flicker on. More goblins manifest and attack, but they were weak and stood no chance against the group.

Proceeding forth, the group comes across a pair of unlocked metal doors at the other end of this tunnel and heard a sound like a faucet turning as they walk through. Prompto looked around at his friends. "Wait. Hear that?"

"I didn't hear anything," Noctis replied.

"I heard it," (Y/n) said. "Are we going to check it out?"

"I think you two are just hearing things."

"Dude, we're not paranoid," Prompto remarked.

Walking through a door on the other side of the room, they find what appears to be a locker room with showers, but there's no one else in the room. "Nothing," Prompto muttered.

"That's weird," Gladio commented.

"I do believe we are being toyed with," Ignis said.

"You sayin' daemons are messing with us?"

"Smaller daemons, especially goblins and imps, have a somewhat playful mannerism and tend to toy with their prey before attacking," (Y/n) said.

"Well, that explains why we're hearing all these weird noises..." Prompto murmured.

Returning to the previous room, Noctis and the others are ambushed by a group of tarantula daemons. Prompto summoned his pistol and shot at the adversaries. "These are not the type of bad guys I like to fight."

Gladio swung his greatsword while asking, "What type do you like to fight?"

"None, now that you mention it."

(Y/n) killed the last tarantula daemon with a minuscule ice spell, pinning its body to the wall with an icicle. Gladio, who was standing beside her, grinned. "You trying to redecorate the place?"

"With daemon corpses? They don't last very long," she replied. "Besides, this place is gonna need a little more than redecorating to get rid of this dreary atmosphere. Maybe some ice could help."

The brute huffed out a chuckle at her playful banter. He was glad she was working past her shyness and joining in his playfulness. He dispelled his greatsword as he and the others approach another pair of metal doors in the room. Prompto eyes the doors with a slightly giddy grin. "Ooh, this looks promising."

"In an ominous sort of way," Gladio said.

"Stay sharp," Ignis advised.

After passing through the doors, then a short tunnel, and then yet another pair of metal doors, they enter what appears to be a wide, open storage room. As they step across the middle of the room, an arachne daemon descends from above and attacks.

"No way we're taking that thing on!" Prompto wailed.

"No turning back," Gladio said.

Noctis summoned his sword. "Nope."

The arachne daemon proved to be no obstacle. The group easily slew it and continued through Keycatrich Trench. They locate another small passage that requires them to crouch. After crouching, moving through the small passage into the next tunnel, and making their way to the next intersection, Gladio takes notice of something down the path to the left. "Huh? The hell?"

(Y/n) looked toward what had the shield's attention and spotted the doors to the next royal tomb they'd been searching for. Noctis also saw the royal tomb and makes his way over. He unlocks the doors to the Tomb of the Conqueror and they slide open. Stepping inside, the prince claims the Axe of the Conqueror. When he stepped out of the royal tomb with his newly claimed ancestral arm in his arsenal, Prompto asked, "So, Noct borrows the old kings' powers?"

"More or less," Ignis replied. "At this rate, he'll soon rival his father's legacy."

""The Copycat King"," Gladio mocked.

Noctis glared weakly at the brute. "Out of line."

"Well? What's it like?" The sharpshooter questioned.

"Hmm..." The prince glanced down at his hands and flexed his fingers. "Like I've got some tricks up my sleeve."

Gladio stuck his hands up in the air. "No need to put on a magic show for us."

"But it never hurt to practice," Ignis added.

"Guess not." Noctis tugged on the fringe of his hair. "Any idea on this conduit we're supposed to find?"

All eyes fell on (Y/n). She bashfully blinked and looked around at the boys. "Wh-Why're you all looking at me?"

"You're the guardian here and Cor said the conduit was one of your people."

"Th-That doesn't mean I know who or what this conduit is capable of..." She cleared her throat. "But I will do my best as a guardian to help you find the conduit. It's easier to speak to my people if I'm with you. The only humans spirits trust are their masters. Luckily, my people are easy to pick out in a crowd. Let's just hope the empire hasn't gotten to the conduit yet."

"Wait, if the empire doesn't know who the conduit is, won't they come after you, (Y/n)?" Prompto asked.

She nodded calmly. "Most likely."

"Eh, she's got nothing to worry about," Noctis said.

The marksman nodded with a wide smile. "That's right! You've got us, (Y/n)!"

"Pretty sure the lady can handle herself in a skirmish, Casanova," Gladio stated.

"I know, but we'll be there for her too!"

(Y/n)'s eyes widen in shock. She glanced around at the boys and saw them all smiling at her. She didn't expect to fit into their merry band this quick, but she was happy to already being closer to Noctis, Prompto, and Gladio. She was already tied to Ignis with the red string of fate and was looking forward to growing closer with the other boys after knowing them for years now. Smiling back, she giggled. "And I'll be here for each and every one of you."

With that, the group left Keycatrich Trench. Back at the entrance to the tunnel system, Noctis' cell phone rings and he promptly answers. "Yeah?"

"Finally picked up. Thought I'd lost another king," Cor responded on the other end.

"Just busy building my arsenal."

"Good to hear. I have a task for you. The empire's begun construction of a new base, along the road west to Duscae. I need you to put it out of commission. If left unchecked, it will cost us access to the west-and all the royal tombs that lie beyond. I believe you've met Monica. She can fill you in on the details. Go see her."

Noctis hung up, putting his phone back into his pocket. Prompto glanced over at him, wondering who called. "What's up?"

"People to see, bases to burn. Let's go see Monica at the outpost," Noctis replied.

"Come to think of it, we did spy a large structure," Ignis said.

"Yeah, hard to miss an ominous thing like that."

"Ain't gonna be easy takin' down a whole stronghold," Gladio claimed.

Prompto fiddled with his gloves. "Can we really do this?"

"The marshal believes we can, or he wouldn't have asked us. But first things first," the advisor started.

Noctis nodded. "Right. Let's head back to the outpost."

Previous Chapter || Next Chapter || Masterlist

[surveillance-0011]

TBOI Headcanons: Horsemen

Death

He/him

He’s...nice. Not a good person by any means but he’s the most polite of the bunch. Kind of strange though. Creepily calm, a bit sarcastic, and he has a pretty morbid view on the world.

Reserved and usually grumpy. He can be rather chipper off-duty, though. Putting up with the others takes a lot of energy from him.

Tired....

A bit neurotic but good at coming off as a down-to-earth guy.

He’s the most book-smart of the bunch and he’s fairly wise. A bit emotionally stunted, but he tries his best to be mature and make the right choices.

Death is more than a bit nihilistic and pessimistic. He has a hard time just... caring, mostly about himself.

Not to say he’s completely apathetic, he can be pretty empathetic but he tries not to act on that too much because if he did his job would have broken him by now.

He likes to think he’s got it all under control, but he does not. He’s more prone to pettiness and stupid decisions than he’d like to admit.

That being said he’s been pretty good with like. Growing and maturing though. He’s changed more than he realizes in just in the past.... decade or so ago. A bit of a late start for an immortal but hey at least he’s slightly less of a scumbag.

It’s usually not easy to anger him unless he’s really tired or something’s already set him off. When something does piss him off badly he’s a bit prone to freaking out. He’s not very good at handling his emotions. 

Sees his own job as a necessary evil, because hey, someone’s gotta do it.

Interested in botany/gardening, as well as literature.

Genuinely nice- or at least polite- to the kids when he’s not supposed to be murdering them. He sees no reason to go out of his way to do so, especially since unwarranted cruelty towards others has only bit him in the ass.

Famine’s older brother. The two have always had each other’s backs.

Diligent, and always considers the logistics to things instead of acting on emotion alone.

Protective of the other horsemen.

Pretty short tbh

His horse’s name is Chili.

Famine

She/he (bigender). You can use both interchangeably or only use one set, she doesn’t care. Fine with they/them too but it’s never really clicked w/ him enough to be preferred.

Usually prefers more masculine terms (brother, sir, mr...) but fine with anything.

.Flips between bouncing off the walls and having no energy whatsoever.

Impulsive, she’s got terrible judgement and has the most idiotic of ideas sometimes.

Fairly easygoing, tries to forgive and forget and doesn’t let little transgressions get to her

Actually pretty damn sad. Needs some self care but never looks after herself.

I mean she’s optimistic and usually happy but like. There’s always just a bit of sadness, you know? He’s dealt with a lot and it’s definitely taken its toll on him.

Disaster Lesbian

Tries to be a graceful loser but she can get a bit more competitive than she’d like to admit.

Has a hard time relating to others and considering how they feel, at least when it comes to anything more complex than “bad thing happened now I’m sad/mad” He’s a drifter by nature, always onto the next big thing for a quick thrill.

Eats a lot. It’s never enough.

Plants and a good deal of food will decay if she touches them, or even gets too close to them.

Like his brother he has some interest in nature. Famine is more on the adventurous side, though. She’s tried to live off the land a few times with varying success.

Named her horse Frisk

Pestilence

He/him

Calm, quiet, but also a pessimistic jackass.

Always in a bad mood. I mean, he’s permanently sick with just about everything contagious and deadly. You’d be grumpy, too!

Surprisingly high pain tolerance. A good deal of his nerves have probably just.. shut down or something. Or maybe he’s just numb to everything after a lifetime of pain.

Sleeps a lot

Dislikes his situation a lot, but doesn’t mind the company of the others.

Lazarus is terrified of this dude. The other kids are mostly grossed out or annoyed by him.

Likes to be alone.

Fairly smart, but comes off as absent minded bc he’s pretty much too sick to function. He slips up a lot and he’s pretty damn clumsy

Probably the most rational of the bunch, when he’s not in airplane mode. 

He’s also got a fairly strong moral compass. He doesn’t really like fighting the kids unlike War and Famine. Or just having to go up against people in general. Hell he hates the fact people get sick because of him. At the very least Pest has higher standards and is fairly transparent

But that isn’t to say he’s a good person. Yeah he doesn’t go out of his way to hurt others for shits and giggles and He’s Not Conquest but he doesn’t ever object to any of the shit the kids are put through and well. Yknow he still does kill them. He will also encourage some of War’s antics when it’s against someone he dislikes.

Tries to be as supportive as he can for the others. He knows he can’t do too much without overexerting so he tries to be encouraging and comforting as he can.

This compassion usually isn’t extended to humans, though.

Not very emotive, the only emotions he ever really expresses would be disdain and mild concern.

Not very fond of Conquest but they don’t hate each other. They actually work together well, too.

Friends with Mahalath. They’re pretty close!

His horse’s name is Moses.

War

He/it

He’s not very friendly, he’s pretty defensive and always on edge.

Out of all the horsemen, he’s probably the one closest with the Beast.

Lots of scars n injuries, it’s practically stitched together

One gold tooth

Impulsive, prefers solving issues through violence than through reason.

He can be fairly clever, though.

Intentionally angers/upsets others, likes causing problems and ruining things for people.

Desires wealth and power

Gets burnt out pretty quickly.

Emotional, insecure, and sensitive, and he hates this part of him. Definitely overcompensates for it.

Explosive temper, quite literally. Catches fire when upset and explodes if it’s more intense. Damage done to him also makes it happen. It’s not entirely voluntary but can be held off, and his “sobbing” sprite is him doing exactly that (but he’s probably also trying not to cry lmao). In the Ultra War fight, however...

Its daily routine leaves a lot to be desired. It wakes up, goes to work, then it goes home and just. Sits and rots.

Also, his diet is god awful. Please just eat a fruit or vegetable for once maybe you’d feel better goddamn.

He cannot remember if his horse is actually a horse or not but uhh he named her Bellum.

Conquest

He/they.

High and mighty sort of attitude. Can be very selfish. Stubborn, set in his ways. Gets defensive if you call him out or tell him he’s wrong.

Gay + nonbinary but in the closet (and denial) about both of those things. They’re trying to unlearn years’ worth of internalized bigotry.

Used to be worse, now trying to unlearn his toxic behaviors. But he’s still awful.

Doesn’t remember anything before their death. However they’ve held very strong Christian (specifically Catholic) beliefs all their life and they have a pretty black and white way of thinking.

Very cold and clinical. He has a bit of a temper but there’s a sort of calmness to everything he does even when he’s pissed.

Just as argumentative and aggressive as War but like more of a threat.

The others call him Connie sometimes, especially Death, who practically almost always calls him by this nickname.

Doesn’t harbor ill will towards Pestilence. They might have been overshadowed, but it’s not Pestilence’s own fault. If anything, being out of the spotlight has been good for Conquest, even if they do miss the attention sometimes. The only reason the two dislike each other is because their personalities clash.

Now if there’s anyone he hates that would be the Headless Horseman. Fuck that guy amiright

Very protective of Death. The two are close, Death is probably the only person who is consistently nice to him.

Utterly terrified of needles (hypodermic, not sewing needles, though he’s not good with sharp objects tbh) and medical stuff makes him anxious

Seems very... off. Just weird vibes but no one can pin point what about him is wrong.

Oh uh and his horse’s name is Josephine.

[marchtomydrums]

In the beginning 15

Alex Cabot X Casey Novak X Reader

Rated M

Your body is shaking You’re so angry. Did they really not tell you about this weekend? Does Casey actually know? You grab your things and head straight for the elevator before remembering you’re supposed to be riding home with Alex.

Walking back to the desk you have a range of emotions running through you. The pain in your side increased taking your breath away for a moment. It’s all too much, all of these feelings, and doubts. It’s just too much.

Alex chooses this time to walk out of the office.

“You ready to go?” She asked. You nod your head not trusting your voice. She gives you a small smile. As soon as you get in the car Alex leans over to grab your hand.

“Thank you for riding home with me. I know it’s been rocky but I’ve really missed our on on one time. “ you can only nod at her not trusting the tears to stay at bay. You look out the window while Alex drives. Her hand is still in yours holding it tightly all the way home. Reaching the penthouse Alex lets you enter first. “Casey will be home earlier than usual. We’re ordering take out so be thinking about what you want. She said she’ll be gone an hour tops.” You listen to Alex ramble on for a good minute before cutting her off kissing her. She’s taken back at the sudden contact it doesn’t last long though. She’s kissing you back with all she has.

“My love, I’ve missed this.” She moans into your mouth. You let her lead you onto the couch. Her body weight on top of yours kissing you, pulling your clothes off. You're trying hard to keep these emotions shut down but unfortunately, they come out with full force. Your eyes pouring tears as you kiss Alex. She pulls back slightly tasting the salty tears.

“My love I’m so sorry about everything. I’ve missed you so much. “ she cries kissing you again mistaking your tears for joy or relief. You start to cry harder when her hand makes its way into your panties. Alex pulls back again looking at you.

“My love? Are sure this is something you want? You’re dry.”

“It’s what you want right?” You mumbled. Pulling Alex back down.

“This is what you wanted right? You wanted it all to be okay? Well here I am so just fuck me. “ you cry looking up at Alex.

“What?” She says taken back by your words.

“I would never just fuck you and it’s about what we both want. I would never treat you like that. “ Alex says tears forming in her eyes as she moves off of you. You sigh pulling your knees up to your chest.

“Emma told me about this weekend. “ you say quietly not looking at Alex. Alex breaths out heavily.

“My love I promise you I was going to talk to you and Casey about it tonight. I didn’t pick Emma. Jack picked us I actually forgot all about it before she reminded me today.” Alex tells you looking over to see your facial expression.

“We will be in separate rooms and I’ll only have to be around her when we’re in meetings.” Alex continues which causes you to snort and roll your eyes.

“Alex, I couldn’t care less what you do. Emma’s not the problem you were right about that. I can’t control Emma or her thoughts, crushes, actions. However, I can talk to you about them and we as a couple can set boundaries. To do that though both parties have to be respectful of each other. You don’t respect me or my feelings. There’s no point in even arguing about it. You’ll do whatever you want to do anyway. So do you want to fuck me or not?” You ask her at the end of your speech. Alex sits there stunned for a moment. You roll your eyes walking off.

Alex’s POV:

An hour later Casey comes walking in happy as ever.

“Hi. Did you guys order already? Or what?” Casey asked me walking towards the couch where I’ve been sitting for the past hour. I look up at tears falling down my face.

“Oh baby what’s wrong?” She asked sitting beside me pulling me into her chest. I fill Casey in on everything that has happened including what happened here tonight. I can tell she’s upset but she doesn’t say much just letting me talk.

“Alex you know I love you. And I support you and your work. This trip wouldn’t be a big deal if all of this was handled the right way. Unfortunately, your words and your actions have caused you to lose y/n’s trust and only you can fix that. I can’t play mediator in this round. This is up to you to fix. I still have your back but I promise you if you make me look stupid again for taking up for you it will not be pleasant.”

“I love you Casey and I love y/n I wouldn’t do something to hurt the two of you like that,” I exclaimed to her.

“I do not doubt in my mind that you love us. But if you want this relationship to work with all three of us you have to try harder. No more lies, or half-truths, no more saying hurtful things because you pissed off and scared. But again this isn’t about us. This is about you and y/n. You need to fix it, Alex.”

I nod my head listening to every word coming out of Casey’s mouth. I want to make this right. I don’t want you to be angry with me anymore.

“When do you leave?” Casey asks.

“In the morning around 7 am. A car is picking me up and taking us to the airport. I’ll be back Monday morning. “

“Okay. Let’s go to bed.” I follow Casey up the stairs. Once we get into the bedroom we notice that you are already asleep in the middle.

“Do you think she’ll forgive me?” I ask Casey.

“I hope so Alex. I really do.” Casey says climbing into her side. I do the same climbing in on my side. I hover over you and gently kiss your temple. “Goodnight my love,” I whispered my voice cracking with emotion. Casey reaches over and squeezes my hand.

“Goodnight honey.”

“Goodnight sweetheart.” I smile back at her sinking into the bed praying for sleep.

The next morning….

Casey and Alex wake you up at the ass crack of dawn moving around the room. You look up to see Alex packing and Casey is helping her. Groaning you drop back down on the bed covering your face with Alex’s pillow. You inhale deeply her shampoo still lingering on the fabric. Part of you feels guilty for the stunt you pulled on her last night. You feel guilty for being upset with her. But the other part of you is pissed off and hurt. You must have dozed off while your heart and your head were at war. Casey was leaning over you talking. You couldn’t make out her words just yet but it looked a little brighter outside so you must have fallen back asleep.

“Y/n baby, wake up. Alex leaves in 20 minutes. I know you’re mad but please come say goodbye.” Casey pleads to you. You get up making a quick stop in the bathroom before heading downstairs. Casey is kissing Alex goodbye. The two hold each other in their arms for a moment before breaking apart.

Alex sees you and smiles.

“Bye.” You tell her with little emotion. Her eyes drop.

“Bye. I’ll be back Monday. Okay?”

“Yeah. Okay.”

Alex walks toward the door before turning back around. Tears welling up in her eyes “I know you’re angry with me. And you have every right to be. I just want you to know that I love you and I’ll miss you. “ she tells you her cries getting heavier with each word. You cast your eyes to the side praying no tears spill.

“Can I hug you? Please.” She asked. You nod. Slowly making your way over to her. Alex wraps her arms around you crying into your shoulder. It takes everything in you, not to break down.

“I love you. “ she whispered.

“I love you too,” you say softly. Alex chocks back a sob more than likely shocked that you responded. Pulling herself back from you she gives you a watery smile.

“Okay. I’ll see you two Monday. “ she says walking out the door.

Walking towards the window you watch Alex load her bags and get in the car. Casey comes up behind you wrapping her arms around you resting her chin on your shoulder. You break watching the car drive off crumbling into Casey's embrace sobbing.

[popculturebuffet]

Ducktales Finale Review: The Last Adventure! or So Long and Thanks for All The Ducks

Hello all you happy people. The day we’ve all simultaneously waited for and dreaded is here. The grand finale to a five year journey.. and for me an almost one year journey of covering season 3 as it came out. It was thanks to this show i’ve been able to make money doing what I love. Without it I never would’ve found my patreon Kev, and I never woul’dve had the solid focus to keep going as long as I have. And I never would’ve had all you lovely people reading my work. Thank you for that. I hope you’ll stick around even though the series is gone, I love you all. But as the sun sets on this series I have one last episode of the season, and the series to cover. I won’t be doing it in my usual recap style due to it’s sheer length and scope, but I promise you if you join me under the cut I will break down eveyrthing I can about this final adventure, it’s huge, awe inspiring twists.. and it’s heartwarming conclusion. It’s everything you could want from a finale short of a Grandma Duck Cameo, and i’ts under the cut with full spoilers. Seriously if you do not want any spoilers TURN BACK NOW. I’m opening with probably the biggest spoiler of the finale. 

I Think She’s A Clone Now You were warned. So.. Webby is Scrooge’s Clone, made by FOWL as part of a decades long scheme to find the papyrus of binding, and raised by Beakly to keep this precious child out of their sinister clutches. I have hundreds of reaction images, several for what the fuck.. none of them seem sufficient.. ALL OF THEM together like some megazord of what the fuck are not sufficient for how much this reveal caught me off guard. It caught ALL of us off guard. I’m sure even those who called it still were suprised that’s the direction it took. I think we all expected her parents died by FOWL, or her parents were FOWl with Pepper being one of them, or anything else. So naturally it took around 14 drafts, and me going the fuck to sleep as I had stayed up to watch the finale and thought I could just smoothly transition into writing the review despite there being a LOTTTTT to unpack.

Even after the recharge though this took a bit of doing... so now i’ve done it... what’d I think? Whelp....

I liked it. I like it the more I think about it. Even the problems I had with it just kinda melted away as I thought about it. I understand if you do not. This twist will not be for everyone, it changes Webby’s character and story entirely, ruins tons of fan theories, and in general is batshit even for a series that in the same finale, turned Manny into a shout out to Gargoyles, complete with Keith “My Body is Ready” David. This series is genuinely batshit and loves it, but this is a LOT to ask dramatically, a lot to rewrite expectation wise and a lot to thinka bout. There’s a reason besides sleep deprevation it took me a whlie to fully grasp how I felt. So if you don’t like it fine, but i’m going to make my best case. 

Starting with something that made me realize I fully like it: It dosen’t invalidate Webby’s charcter. The one little problem I had left was “Well dosen’t Webby having the McDuck bloodline mean she couldn’t be specail if she wasn’t a McDuck? That sure the rest of the cast are specail but you can’t be really important without it?” Honestly.. no. Webby is who she is not because she’s a McDuck.. but because she’s Webby. She got her martial arts and mystery solving skills through Beakly and being raised. She had intate talent sure.. but as we’ve seen with the boys through the whole series, talent has to be honed. Skill has to be earned and learned.  Webby worked hard to research other civilizations, worked hard to hone herself into a deadly fighting machine with her mother’s help, worked hard to be every bit as cool as her idol who turned out to be her biological dad. She earned her badassery, her wisdom and her courage SQUARE. 

And more than that she’s her own person. Her adoptive parent and biological parent are both paranoiacs afraid of betryal, unwilling to trust, and slow to let anyone in. By all accounts Webby should be the same.. but she’s not. Oh sure she has some paranoia and is willing to slit some throats, she was raised by the world’s best spy and is the daughter of the world’s greatest hero, that was never going to be gone entirely. But at her core she just wants to trust people. She just wants to love them and be loved. And.. that’s why her family loves her. Because she’s the kindest, the warmest and the best of them. They love her because she’s Webby and that’s she’s family, they could care less who she’s related to. All it really changes is how Scrooge acts around her and that gives us fans tons to work with. 

It’s also expertly revealed, which helped ease us into it. Webby is just as shocked and confused as we are and is seriously hurt, which makes her vulnerable to the villains. Kate Miccui deserves a goddamn award for voice acting and if their isn’t an award show for that their should be. While she’s been fantastic with Webby all series long this is her finest performance, going from Webby’s usual self, to all the hurt she goes through.. to her quitter moments at the end, calling Scrooge dad and giving out a little noise that makes it clear as Beakly tries to leave, that no.. she’ still her family.. she’s still her mom and she’s not going anywhere. 

As for the concept being a bit ridiculous yes it is.. but so is this universe. This universe is entirely insane in the best fucking way possible: I mean.. look at this final group shot. 

We have an old man whose somehow still alive simply because he was too busy to die, an inventor whose cloned himself multiple times so clones are fesable and is probably a clone himself given how the last finale went, an awkward armored superhero and his biotech filled girlfriend, a small boy robot weapon of discretion who put his head on his brother’s body, a no longer headless manhorse former harbinger of the apocalypse with the silky voice of keith david as one big homage to gargoyles, a lesbian living shadow and her sister, a superhero who based himself on a fictional character and his boyfriend/sidekick who by all accounts should be dead by now, a lesbian military superheroine from the moon, STORKULES COCKBLOCKER OUT OF MYTH, his moong goddes sister, two adopted family stunt pilots, a bunch of super intelligent mice, an odd duck whose kinda sorta dating a giant shrimp, his cousin with super luck powers, my globetrotting boys, an immortal treasure hunter and in the family proper: a former spy turned adopted mom of a clone, a woman who lived on the moon for a good decade, a man who once trapped everyone in what would essentially be the plot of the mcu’s second best work by pure accident, a blue boy whose piloted a plain, captained pirates, and has his own talk show, a green boy whose ran a multi-trillion dollar company, nearly destroyed all of time and space and is under investigation for fraud, and a red boy who has a hulk-esque rage filled embodiment of all his suppressed emotions, whose fondest wish was tall legs, and who can easily take out a giant magica supermachine with some fancy wiring. So the richest duck in the world having a clone daughter, while divisvie and what not.. is far more plausable than we give it credit for. As are her new sisters who Id in’t forget but are part of the whole twist. 

So yeah, I like the twist and my nitpick is more that despite having a full season to set it up.. they saved it for the last episode. Instead of BUILDING on Webby’s desire to know more about her family and having the twins show up earlier.. it’s all shove into the finale. It’s a well done shoving but there’s so much that could be explored with Webby being Scrooge’s daughter, so much that futzes with the regular family dynamics and we don't’ get any of it. Sure it was probably saved for a possible season 4 but they treated this season as the last. Manny being an apocalyptic man horse voiced by the uber sexy keith david, and no I will not stop bringing that up even outside of it’s own section and why yes it is getting it’s own section, is the kind of revelation you can leave for one last episode. “One of the main cast is a clone” really isn’t and that’s disapointing. 

Especially since thinking back to life and times.. Webby IS a lot like Scrooge was before circumstance hardened him. She’s tough, resourceful.. but also has a peppy spirit to her. It adds interesting shades to her character, where she zigs where Scrooge zags, how much of it is her upbringing with Granny versus his with his parents, how much did Beakley play into it. There’s A lot to dig into and given I have most of the series left to review, I will get to dig into it, and there’s a lot to be explored in fanfic so if I wasn’t already planning a massive one before I sure as fuck am now. So it’s not a bad twist nor bad we get to write the future.. but I do wish the crew THEMSELVES had done more with it. Still my bar for “not fucking up the entire show” is pretty low after Star Vs ended with her committing implied genocide to stop a genocide and How I Met Your Mother ended “But the real journey was in how much I want to bang, bang bangity bang I said a bang bang bangity bang your aunt robin now your mother conveniently died”. I can handle “This twist is kind of weird but also really intresting.” If the twist isn’t for you, as I said i get it. This is my opinion. Now for the thing I won’t shut up about. 

I LIVE AGAIN:

Look i’ve made no secret how thirsty I am for Keith David nor how much of a national treasure I rightly believe him to be. He’s one of my faviorite voice actors, with a mind boggling number of awesome rolls, mostly recently as a fowl mouthed coffe cup encouraging a teacher to sabotage his rival teachers breaks on close enough. Even if I didn’t like Gargoyles, which I do, i’d have an entire section talking about that Manny reveal. 

Manny was already objectively one of the best parts of the show, a hilariously weird addition that was also relatable as he just wanted to fit in. I did not know you could make him better. Then they gave him Keith David’s voice and revealed he’s one of the four horseman of the apocalypse, but doesn’t want to end the world he just wants to be a normal dude, AND turned him into a shout out to the last part of the disney afternoon they hadn’t touched, my favorite part of it and a show i’ve been sitting on watching in full for far too long. Motherfucking Gargoyles. 

But given how unique it was for the Disney Afternoon and how much Disney had no desire to ever reference or use the franchise, still no fucking clue as to why they are sitting on money here, I expected it to be sadly but understandably left out. Instead they made Manny into an expy for them, gave him the voice of their leader Goliath, the voice of an angel, and had him say “I LIVE AGAIN” complete with the utterly transcendent theme song. Seriously give it a listen. 

So yeah I couldn’t not mark out at this. Amazing fucking stuff and almost as unexpected as the clone thing and easily my second faviorite part of the fiinale only NARROWLY topped by the curtain call. Which we’ll get to. Keith David took his time getting to this series but they saved the best guest voice for last. Utter tremendous. 

Huey Season?: I”ll save more of this for my breakdown as the season as a whole but yeah while the finale as a whole was good.. I do feel Huey got short changed. He got PLENTY of development this season, and some REALLY good scenes with Bradford.. but ultimately he got overshadowed by the Webby thing. it just never quite felt like Huey got a real resolution to his character arc the way his brothers did. He still got some REALLY good moments, his “Just cough up the information Bentina!” was one of his finest and Danny Pudi did his best. The BUILDUP was good but hte payoff was non existant and easily the weakest part of an otherwise triumphant finale. I feel the final plot was ultimately just a bit too jam packed to really have Huey feel vital to it the way Dewey was to the Della arc and Louie was to his own arc. Both tgot big emotional payoffs in his finale but the most I could gather here was he accepted adventure? I guess. It just really feels off, like I missed the payoff to everything when it’s probably just nonexistent and that bothers me a lot. In a finale that was almost all hit.. this was easily the biggest misstep. I don’t have as much to say here on it.. but that’s because it’s really that simple: they gave Huey’s arc a ton of build up in this last episode and some of his others, really made him into Bradford’s good counterpart.. then just sorta.. forgot it because “oh shit Webby’s scrooge’s daughter kinda need to pull focus here”. Had they given this arc at least one more episode, we might of had time for it. Granted i’m not sure how much they could get away with but we clearly needed at least one more episode and what they chose to jettision, the climax to Huey’s story.. was way more important than they clearly thought and i’m heavily disappointed. 

Bradford’s Big Hole Speaking of payoffs the missing mysteries payoff.. is a mixed bag. I expected all of them to combine some how into some elaborate plan I just wasn’t seeing. In hindsight it does make sense that wasn’t it: Bradford hates overcomplicated schemes, so his would be incredibly simple and require as few moving parts as possible. It still dosen’t stop the fact that the big plan to cap off the entire series built over a season... was to build a giant stygian hole of non existence to throw people into. 

Yes really. Instead of using the Payprus to write them out of existance, if carefully worded or try doing it all at once or anything practical.. Bradford just plans to shove everything he dosen’t want in the world anymore into a hole.  Look i’ts not like it ruins the episode, there’s still tons of tension from him holding Scrooge’s loved ones over his hole and threating to throw them into it’s gaping void. And it’s foiled by a 12 year old just.. shutting it off. Like I get him leaving an off switch on, that’s just common sense.. but why wouldn’t he have a remote or something to turn it back on? one with a password or something to lock it. There’s something inherently underwhelming about as series ending plan that can be summed up “hope no one shuts my unguarded hole. “

The finale does make for it by using the missing mysteries all in VERY clever ways. In fact every episode in the season had some sort of payoff here. It’s what makes up for how baffling the main plan is: every other thing, from the missing mysteries to the guest stars has lead up to this one moment, this one final adventure. Which leads me too

An Hurricane of Payoffs:

So from the top Challenge of the Senior Junior Woodchucks!: Isabella Finch herself ends up being VITAL to the story and to Bradford’s backstory, as does Junior Woodchucking as a whole. Quack Pack!: Gene is the fuel for Blot’s glove.. though he also fucks off right afterwords.. never to be seen again or help out at any point...

Double-O-Duck in You Only Crash Twice!: This was the most unexpected and elevated the episode in hindsight for me as what seemed like a waste of time.. wound up setting up the first part of the finale, and the final battle with Steelbeak, and in clever ways with Steelbeak using the intelliray on himself, Launchpad muttering the map in his sleep via his smart self and Dewey remembering the base layout. 

The Lost Harp of Mervana: Used as a lie detector for that heartbreaking interrogation scene. 

Louie’s Eleven: Introduced Daisy setting up Donald’s plot which i’ll get to. 

Astro BOYD: My baby boy comes back for this episode! He also gets one of the best lines of it “I’m a Head!”. That is the most ralph wiggum the boy has ever been. I’m so proud. 

Rumble For Ragnarok: Okay I was wrong nothing from this one comes back. Still a great episode. Same with the trickening. Both are VERY stellar episodes though, so I give it a pass. You can’t give a nod to EVERYTHING. 

The Phantom and the Sorceress: The Blot and Super Sayian God Super Sayian Lena, as well as Lena’s character development from said episode.  They Put a Moonlander on the Earth!: Launchpad helping Penny realize her purpose.  Forbidden Fountain: Jeeves is un-babied as a trap Let’s Get Dangerous!: Drake and Gosalyn Return, and Solageo’s Circut ends up being vital to the climax.. in the strangest and funnest way to say possible but still. It counts.  Escape from the Impossibin: Beakley’s near breakdown at the idea FOWL has come back. It was already heartbreaking and the first adventure had made it even more so.. but now it’s out and out DEVISTATING. The one thing after her daughter is not only back.. but SHE’S the reason he’s in Scrooge’s life and home and her giving up SHUSH has now left her wide open. 

The Split Sword: Probably the best out of all of these as it ends up directly playing into the climax in an awesome way i’m saving for Bradfords New Gods: Storkules shows up. Okay so that every episode claim bit me on the ass. Also when did these two meet? I mean probably at end of spear of selene but the more important question is WHY DID YOU ROB  ME OF THESE TWO MEETING AT ANY POINT IN THE SERIES. 

The First Adventure: Naturally the Payprus comes back as Does herons needling bradford to stop denying what he is. 

Fight For Castle McDuck: Suprisingly the blessed bagpipes ended up being VITALLY important. And giving us sexiest man alive infinity years running Keith David for an episode.  Last Christmas; Santa Cameo

Beaks in the Shell: Gandra being taken and the Lost Library being setup for this episode. 

Lost Cargo: The Stone of What Was. And Credit where its due what FELT like simply a filler episode with a tantengal connectoin.. ended up probably being one of the most important episodes. Fair play. 

Life and Crimes: Magica turning Bradford into a non sentient bird, like what happened to her brother.... proving once again this episode really REALLY needed as subplot attached to lead into the finale or something. 

Bonus Round: Pilot payoffs by the pound. Seriously Scrooge and Donald’s last lines to each other, the badass return of “I’m a Pilot”, more on that in a minute, and even other smaller call backs like “Keep Getting Up” and webby sucessfully getting some juice to Louie’s pride. All top notch stuff and it really makes the finale FEEL like one with all this coming back full circle. So i’ve hinted at it enough, let’s bring on the bad guy. 

The First Woodchuck

We’ve had some mixed payoffs so let’s get to one that’s just out and out excellent. Bradford Buzzard.. is the best villian the show ever had. Now I will give the caveat that my favorite forever and always will be

You know it, I know it. But Bradford is the best genuine threat of the series, with Marc Evan Jackson perfectly balancing his menace and genuine evil.. with his steadfast believe that he isn’t evil, and his calm, controlled business demeanor. It’s one of the best performances of the show and he deserves all the credit for it and after seeing him in supporting roles for his career, even if his role as Kevin on Brooklyn Nine-Nine is fucking awesome and I’m sad that show is ending, it’s nice to see him step into a big meaty role as the big bad and utterly nail it. 

And the finale.. pays eveyrthing off with him, apart from the plan itself perfectly. Starting off him being revealed as Isabella Finch’s grandson... was  a stroke of genius. I didn’t expect her to come back in play but it gives perfect reason both why he knew about the mysteries.. and why he’s like this. 

Like Scrooge did with his nephews, niece and daughter, Isabella dragged Bradford all around the world seeing the unseen, thinking it was fun. The problem was... Bradford HATED it. He hated every minute of it, like as one post pointed out Rusty Venture from the Venture bros, and felt he should be in school. He wanted a normal life and a normal world and not.. this waking nightmare. So to him, fixing the world, stopping this sort of thing is the only way and that doing so is a good thing. His problem is how he adapted to it.

We see that best in his mirror images, the people he’s in direct contrast with and the show knows it. Starting off with the one he’s not like at all is Scrooge. Part of what makes Bradford perfect is he’s Scrooge’s evil opposiite. The Luthor to His Superman, The Joker to his Batman, the Green Goblin to his Spider-Man, the Iron Monger to his Iron Man, the Sinestro to his Green Lantern. Both come from a long line of adventure but while Scrooge embraces that and loves it, Bradford hates it and wants to destroy it. One is energetic and always ready, the other’s calm, calculated. And one sees what he is.. and the other dosen’t. Simple as that.

But his other mirror’s are more like him, moving onto Huey. Their both woodchucks, both prefer caution and planning, and both want to make some sense of a nonsensical world. Both want to feel safe when they constnatly don’t. One’s prone to panic attack the other’s calm. But what makes Huey the better man... is that he accepts the world is the way he is. It goes all the way back to terror of the terrafirmains. While he was all for adventure he started his doubting things, not beliving things were real.. because the reality that there are some things you just can’t prepare for, just can’t know, and you can’t be always ready.. it shattered him. He nearly let himself die rather than live knowing what’s out there. Webby pulled him out of that, literally and figuratively.. and he never went back. Sure he still tries to have an order to things, still breaks when his structure’s broken.. but it’s gone from a paranoid fear of the unknown and weird to embracing it. To relishing in finding unsolved mysteries and new clues to unlock, to finding new things to explore. He went from seeing this chaotic world as something to run from, to embracing and studying it. To loving it the way it is the way his family loves him for who he is. Bradford.. denies reality belongs the way it is and wants to force it into what HIS idea of it is Superboy Prime Style. The world isn’t waht he thought it should be so he’ll MAKE it that way. Huey grew as a person.. while his arc didn’t have a full payoff.. it still pays off here by showing what he COULD’VE been. had he let his earlier fear and his always present neurosis drive him like Bradford has. Let his big brain make him think he knows what’s better for EVERYONE instead of using it to genuinely help people. Bradford lacks the boys heart and empathy and that’s why he fell. Huey had his family backing him, his best friends coming to get him, and his brothers ultimately rescue him. Bradford.. threw his only true ally down a styigan murder hole. 

Finally.. we have the one that’s not brought up directly.. but is very much there. Donald. While the two don’t interact hardly at all... it’s VERY fitting that Donald is the one Bradford picks to threaten Scrooge with. Like Bradford... Donald grew to hate adventure, he wanted to get as far away from it as possible and took it from his boys for as long as he could. Granted that was in part Bradford’s fault, and that was an INCREDIBLY clever twist: it dosen’t make him entirley responsible or anything that robs the moment of it’s imapct, Della still chose to take it out by herself, she still lied to Donald and she still got lost all by her own decision and impuslviness. But it fits perfectly into it: Bradford’s horrifying smile when Scrooge gets taken away from saving her is even WORSE now with full context, and it still fits that knowing about the project.. he’d want to set it up to screw up Scrooge’s life. I don’t think he sabotaged the rocket or anything, too obvious and something Della would’ve mentioned by now.. but he knew it was unfinished. 

Back to the parallel the diffrence is once again.. change. Donald let go of his hate of scrooge and his past and realized it wasn’t all bad. He let himself grow as a person after a decade of bitterness and anger. But most tellingly and poignantly is Quack Pack... both had a chance to make a world that was safe, normal and what they always wanted. Both out of terror of the danger of this world.  Thing is.. Donald’s was noble. He feared for his kids, his sister, his uncle.. loosing one again and any of them at all. He wanted a normal life to be safe, to hide from that.. but it’s not what THEY wanted or who they are. He accepted that’s not how the world works and how it does.. is still pretty great. And his growth shows: he’s ending the series planning to go off with his girlfriend globetrotting, KNOWING things might not be safe, but diving into adventure, having accepted it as part of him. He even finds some new family and takes in two girls who badly needed a home. He learned to accept things how they are... and Bradford refuses, not beliving in this world as it is and vowing to force it into the way he wants it to be. 

And it’s that inherent selfishness.. that makes Bradford the Cartoon Supervillian he desperatley claims he isn’t. Bradford dosen’t care how many lives it takes, how much worse it makes the world, or how many people he has to stab in the back... the world WILL be “normal”. Bradford cares for no one and nothing except his own ambition. He kills Heron despite her loyality, and his own clones who loyally served him.. simply because their chaos too. No one or nothing else matters, not how they feel, not their right to exist.. only HIS vision. If he wanted to keep the world safe he’d be more of a hero, if still throughly a bastard... but he dosen’t. He wants to make it “normal”. He wants the world the way he thinks it shoudl be and damn anyone else and perfectly represents all the old assholes like him today who refuse to accept something diffrent or against the norm because “that’s how it’s always been”.  Like those real world assholes.. Bradford is wrong. The Duckverse is beauitful how it is in it’s chaos and risk and love. And he just can’t see it because it’s not what he WANTS to see. 

And that’s why I also love the Sword giving him big, black and red classic villianous monster, slowly mutating him as he fights the duck family. Because that’s his inner strength: he may deny he’s a villian but he’s forcing his will on others, refuses to see the world as it is for selfish reasons, and is willing to kill his own friends and allies if it means getting it. He’s the bad guy. And while he denies it to those around him... it’s clear from the fact the sword is working for him that he KNOWS IT, he knows he’s a villian and this is just what he wants but is so up his own ass he can’t SAY it or admit it. And in the end he’s fully beaten by the fact that his forcing his will on everything’s what’s unnatural: While his plan was ingenious, have scrooge sign a contract agreeing never to adventure again, since he’s right Scrooge would solve nonexistance it’s the same reason “launch hulk into space” only resulted in a smarter, more skilled hulk coming back with a space army to get revenge. He just didn’t bank on the inherent rediclousness of the unvierse: family really is the greatest adventure of all.. and the papyrus accepted it. It was the one thing he coudln’t palnf or because he can’t see the woirld how it is.. and that’s why he lost. He was so confident how he saw the world and how he worked was the only way... another way beat him. 

His fate.. was also awesome and endleslly apporirate. Being mocked by the other villians who while less capable aside from Magica, at least admit what they are and what their doing.. and turned into a Vulture for Magica, left to be a mindless lackey in tons of chaotic schemes for the rest of his life. It couldn’t of happened to a nicer jackass. Okay three more sections to go. Let’s go.

Come Sail Away, Come Sail Away, Come Sail Away With Daissssyyyy

Donald’s leaving for a long, romantic adventure with Daisy is the perfect capper to Doanld’s character. Donald started the series hating adventure: blaming it for della being gone, his rough times during it, and wanted to escape it in the boat and keep from loosing his kids to it. He felt like a looser for not having reached his dreams or properly provided for his nephews, when really he did his best and still raised three wonderful kids. A bit overproective, god yes.. but despite his grief and anger he still got through ten years with them on his own merits, hard work and determination. 

As the series went he reconclied with his past, realized Scrooge lost something too and that blaming him soley when it was Della’s choice was just taking his anger out on the one person he had left to take it out on instead of embracing his only family left, accepted Storkules as his friend (JUST his friend), accepted adventure through quack pack realizing that while it may be weird, dangerous and sometimes stressful for him... it’s what his family love doing and they should be who they are instead of who he wants them to be, and finally.. accepted himself by finding Daisy, someone who loves him for who he is, and literally and metaphorically understands him and turned right back around from dumping him to save him from a giant monster she roared at. He’s finally at peace. 

And that’s why leaving. Not forever, He , Daisy, and his girls will be back in a few months or even a month. It’s very clear this is a vacation.. but it’s one  he’s earned.  He’ll always love his boys, his surrogate daughter/cousin, his sister, and his best buddy launchpad. But it’s okay for him to want to form his OWN family, to spend time with his future wife and show her the world. To make his own story for once instead of sharing it. To find his voice. 

I also find it very poetic that a story that started with Donald raising his nephews like their dad.. ends with him adopting two more children. Two kids whose lives had been misrable: rapidly aged in tubes, deemed failures, constantly bellittled by the closest things they have for parents, so desperate for answers they’d kidnap their own sister and betray her trust and do things they know are wrong, And all this.. for nothing as their  Dad kills their mom, bad as she was, and plans to kill them. And Donald’s first thought when given the chance to have a kid free time to himself, with no guilt having earned it? To take these girls in, start his own family, if Daisy’s cool with it mind he thankfully clearly called to talk this over first, and give them their own. Because that’s who Donald is, a good man whose finally earned his happy ending and the life he always wanted.. and accepted who he always was. An adventuerer, a loving fiance.. and  dad. 

The Real Hero: One last one before the bonus round and a quick one. The Launchpad Scene.. was one of the shows best. His arc in this episode of thinking he’s not a hero.. made sense. He’s been plenty heroic.. but his boyfriend is a martial arts and gymnastics savant and one of his three best friends has a giant suit of armor and is a genius. But the payoff made even more: He may not be the strongest, the most skilled or the smartest.. but he has the heart of a hero. He’s always been the kindest, most trusting, most friendly one of the main family, a guy who never gives up, even when he should, never surrenders and loves everybody. And that’s why he’s inspired so many people: Fenton to not give up after his firing and keep going, leading to his path as Gizmoduck. When Drake was lost, his fllm gone and his mentor seemingly dead (In fact skulking around the sewers like an evil ninja turtle), and his future unclear... TOLD HIM he could be Darkwing, that he could become the hero they both ihdolized and the inspiration to kids he wanted to be by his own bootstraps, and he gave Gosalyn faith in darkwing and hope at at time she had none. He also gave those mice their freedom. Not as poignant but you try creating the rescue rangers and see how far you get. I’ve lost a lot of chipmunks and mice that way. 

Launchpad’s last stand makes up for his lack of being in the season during the final  half. Launchpad realizing that despite his quirks he’s just as noble, valuable and wonderful as his families, both of them. And that he is a pilot. Sure he gets the gizmoduck armor.. but the armor isn’t what makes hi ma hero... i’ts being launchpad that makes him a hero. Loving adopted dad, wonderful partner, best friend... and a pilot

Bonus Round:

Okay this is just stray stuff from throughout the episode I didn’t have several paragraphs worth of material on before we get to the final thoughts. But it had so much good I can’t not talk about it. So...

Gyro calling Little Bulb BOYD’s brother. My heart wept. So sweet. As was him fixing his son at the end. BOYD has the two loving families he deserves.. and the brother he deserves.. and the brother he dosen’t deserve who will probably also is skulking around the sewers like an nafarious ninja turtle as the series ends. 

Gosalyn fixing up Darkwing’s outfit for him. Awwww. Adopt that child you coward. Also if they don’t base the reboot on frank’s work here, I will riot. 

“Just cough up the information Bentina!” that was just pure comedy gold especially the sheer fear radiating off him. Also right. 

Manny’s “I can explain” and , once he has silky smooth keith david voice going “Come on man I just want to live my life.” That man is a legend. 

Dewey and Louie just not talking the “you kids stay behind shit” pointing out both their stake in this and how they’ll just go anyway and him proudly accepting it. Given the kids turned the tied of things a lot, good call. 

Dewey and Don Karnage singing their own background music as they air joust. Hell yes. 

Pepper got a promotion! Goodf or her... it’s meaningless now but hey she has a partner in both senses. 

Speaking of pepper she had the best line of the episode “He’s a grown man who has the strength of a baby!”. Only Amy Sedaris could’ve given that delivery just the perfect way she did. 

The Funzo’s opening sequence was dynamite, from how well set up it was as an infilfration, to Webby having learned how to scam free drinks (Louie was so proud), to Lena cheating for her sister at DDR, to Scrooge paying full price.. it was wonderful> The payoff was also great as rather than be mad her special day was used as part of an elabroate spy operation.. she’s giddy. Because of course she is. Two specitic  bits that get their own items

The Cabs came back one last time! It dosen’t effect my now finished retrospective, but after spending all that time with them it was nice to see them for what will probably be the last time for some time. 

The whole scene where Della finds out about the trip. Just all of it. Her casually and accidentally choking daisy TWICE, Fethry, who sadly did not get an episode this season, being the one to blab about it and only realizing it .. after repeating that they told him not to, and Gladstone who not only was casually winning at Skeeball while his cousins both got pissed at it, relateable as hell, but then awkwardly escorting his baby cousin out of the situation. 

“Satstically with Hubert gone one of us should be pancking but WHO I ASK YOU WHO?” As if I needed more evidence they were perfect for each other. 

Lena just.. slumping over after Dewey finally has her drop the cloak. Comedy gold. BOYD scanning her later likewise so. 

The second best line and line read of the episode goes to Louie/Bobby Monihan. “That is not comforting, I do not want to die”. He couldn’t of summed up Louie in one line any better. 

Ludvwig was a national treasure.  Not only did I squeel internally when it turned out he was alive but the explination for it was hilarious as it was batshit, and him just causally revealing Webby’s origin was fucking amazing “Ill give you all a moment ot process” The acomplanying “bless me bagpipes” was also amazing. 

I do wish we found out where FOWL went but it was probably to leave the remains all free to come back as villians of the week. Frank outright said they had a tailspin sequel episode ready to go.

The Webby and June fight was a masterpiece and I REALLY need to do a top 12 fights list someday. 

Lena connecting with the new twins , having pretty much the same background of being created by a villian for shitty reasons. 

“one is silver and the other is “ “Flintheart glomgold!” they should consider a teamup. What’s a little brainwashing between friends?

“We’re sisters’. No you and violet are sisters, Webby is your girlfriend your both just in denial. I only say this because Webby also thinks Della and Penny are just friends and I feel she simply dosen’t know what being gay is or again is in denial. They’ll get there. Plus it feels like Lena just didn’t want to loose her and would say anything which is valid. 

Curtain Call and Final Thoughts:

The Curtain Call was the perfect way to end a spectacular finale. Each bit of it’s a masterpiece, and every character gets one last awesome, heartfelt and hilarous goodbye with the camera and ending how it should: on our five most important characters, in a circle, together, smiling, freefaling into the next adventure. I”d have it no other way and any other series finale credits and last moments will now pale in comparison. 

So the finale as a whole is messy, some bits aren’t resolved as good as they could’ve been, Huey go the shaft, and it REALLY needed another episode leading into it to help take the pressure off. While it needed 90 minutes for the plot it had to tell, it needed more to build up to that and while the season was tight with episodes they BADLY needed one more they didn’t get or even a subplto to help take the load off this episode. 

But even with that... it was an utterly awesome finale on par with other recent standouts like “Let’s Fight to the End”/ “Thank you For Watching the Show” (Both feel like finales to me but in diffrent ways), “The Future” and the whole arc leading up to it, both parts of “Heart” and “Nice While It Lasted” . It was heartstopping, heartrending and heartfelt and ended the show as it should be: with over the top insanity, big reveals, a hell of a final battle.. and a focus on family. It’s not the perfect finale, and I defintely need more ducktales.. but it’s still a classic one and one of the series finest hours.. literally in this case. 

I.. am going to miss this series. I went into it before but it’s thanks to this series I make a living. If you’d like to contribute to that, I have a patreon, patreon.com/popculturebuffet, my next stretch goal is a darkwing duck epsiode a month so  kick in a buck won’t you? and take comissions so if theres an episode from the first two seasons that’s not part of the season 1 arc (I’m almost done there) or Lena’s story (already being paid for that) feel free to shoot me a line to comissoin it for five bucks an episode. 

But more than that it was an excellent well crafted show that took a franchise I love and updated it for a new generation. My nieces love it, I love it, and I will always love it for that. Young or old, this show as phenominal, it was stupdendous.. it was a duckblur. It will remain in my heart for probaly the rest of my life among such shows as Steven Universe, Parks and Recreation, The Venture Bros, Letterkenny, DBZ Abriged, and so many more that have touched my life. It was simply the best. And i’m going to miss it. Thank you for reading this, i’ll see you at another rainbow, if not one quite like this.

Next on this Blog: Duck week continues after this review took two days to complete. Sorry about that. Our heroes head to castle McDuck and Dewey is forced to face the consequences of his actions, while Scrooge yells at his dad , his dad yells at him and his mom is the most precious thing tha’ts ever lived. Also Launchpad in Donald Cosplay. And it won’t stop there as till saturday the rest of the week is all dedicated to Ducktales as I finish up the Della and Lena arcs for season 1 and get started on Lena’s last three episodes. So if you liked some ducktales, stick around. And once again.. thank you. 

[tallstars-rewrite]

Chapter 19

 chapter list / previous / next

Tallpaw was crouched low in the long grass of the pastures. He wasn’t searching for any prey, instead he was just sitting alone in the empty fields, looking in the direction of the twoleg barn. It had only been a couple days since his disastrous attempt at tunneling, and his father had been making a point of avoiding him, giving him nothing more than a distant glare. By now, everyone in camp had heard about the incident. He didn’t know what Heatherstar had to say about it yet, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to. No one brought it up but he always felt like they were watching him with pity, or worse, scorn. Tallpaw hadn’t been able to focus at all, and had slipped away from team hunting training with Shrewpaw after he’d missed his third catch. Shrewpaw had gotten fed up with him and growled in frustration “Just forget it, I’ll just catch something myself and say we caught it together!”

 He felt terrible. He had no idea how to make the cats he cared about happy. Dawnstripe wanted him to focus on moor training, Sandstone wanted him to become a prodigy tunneler, he had no idea what his mother wanted at all.

He wasn’t sure he felt worthy to train as anything anymore, he wanted to curl up under a gorse bush and stay there, not have to ask any cat for anything ever again and have no cat ask anything of him. It was a cowardly wish. And it wasn't like him to desire hiding in the undergrowth. Maybe that was why he had found himself walking towards the northern treeline, and why he now crouched at the outskirts of the farm, the woodland strip behind him blocking the breeze. He hadn’t consciously intended to come this way, but this is where he was. Just somewhere far away where he couldn’t disappoint anyone, where the wind wouldn’t catch his scent and invite anyone to come after him.

Tallpaw shouldn’t be in the pastures, he kept telling himself that, but some part of him was so desperate for some respite from the anxious buzzing in every part of his body, he was willing to try anything. His tail flicked restlessly. I don’t even know where Jake is, this was a mouse-brained idea. But before he could get up and leave, a bright orange shock of fur bounced out of the grass, making Tallpaw jump.

“Tallpaw!” Jake cried, “You’re back already! I didn’t think you’d come out this far again. I saw your tail in the grass and knew it had to be you. I was practicing my stalking, did you hear me coming?”

Jake looked so happy to see him. Tallpaw managed to get out a purr, “I didn’t. You’re a fast learner.”

It certainly wasn’t a lie, but mostly because Tallpaw had been too busy arguing with himself to pay any attention to a kittypet sneaking up on him.

Jake studied him, his eyes narrowed in slight concern “You doin’ ok? You seem a little down.”

“I’m fine,” Tallpaw lied. It didn’t sound convincing even to himself. The last thing he wanted to do was confess what a mouse-hearted stunt he’d pulled before when he went into the tunnels, especially not when Jake had tried so hard to encourage him before.

“I won’t make you spit it out. I’m sure it’s nothing you can’t handle.” Jake said politely.

Tallpaw hummed quietly but he avoided Jake’s gaze “I really just wanted to make sure you were doing ok. How are you?”

Jake seemed happy enough to oblige Tallpaw’s push for a change of subject. He told him how he caught a tiny mouse after a kestrel dropped it, and was practicing swatting at birds, and how his twolegs had been extra nice to him that day. Tallpaw still had some doubts about that last part, but he wasn’t going to interject about it today. Although Jake didn’t mention the obvious tension Tallpaw held in his body again, there was more understanding in his deep green eyes then Tallpaw would have expected. He had thought of Jake as a bit of a flighty cat who didn’t pick up on emotional cues very often, but he got the feeling the kittypet was perhaps a lot more perceptive than Tallpaw had been giving him credit for. Maybe his friendly nature wasn’t a result of naivety, maybe he was just… like that by choice. He was just nice. Why was that surprising? He smiled softly to himself as Jake talked.

“You know,” Jake said, “I’ve been getting a feeling lately that somethings going to change for me soon.”

“What do you mean?”

“I can’t explain it. I just feel it in my gut. I finally met some of those nicer cats you mentioned, Reena and Bess. I thought about what it would be like to travel the way they do, it sounds so fascinating. ”

“Are you...considering it? Leaving with the visitors?” Tallpaw wasn’t sure he could picture it. Though he had to admit Jake and Reena had a similar friendly disposition.

Jake shrugged. “Oh I don’t know about that, they seem nice but I barely know them. I’ve never been a stray before. I think I would miss my housefolk too much, you know? It upsets them when I disappear. They’ve been acting strange lately, moving stuff out of their den for days. I have a feeling they're getting ready to leave, and I think I may go with them.”

 “I-I don’t think that’s a good idea. Don’t you like it here? You can’t just let them take you! You don’t even know where they’re going to go!” Tallpaw said more quickly than he intended.

Jake flicked his tail casually. “Yeah I know, but I’m not that worried. The rest of my family went their separate ways like this, and honestly I never imagined I’d stay here my whole life. Just staying put in the same place? I always wanted to see somewhere new. I guess I’m just going to see where life takes me”

Jake seemed so chipper at the idea, but Tallpaw was surprised at how sad he suddenly felt at the idea of the kittypet leaving. He shouldn’t be here, he knew that, but...it was nice to have something to himself. He didn’t want to be alone with his thoughts. Tallpaw didn’t think about how stressed out he was in camp when he went to see Jake. He didn’t want to lose this, as selfish as it was. Well, he thought. My father wasn’t really wrong, was he? I’d rather do anything to run away from hardships. Of course this is where I’d end up.

“Well...good luck.” Tallpaw said quietly, “I should get going. Maybe it’s for the best. I’m breaking the rules coming here so often.” He turned very abruptly to leave, painfully aware it was probably rude.

“Oh! well...I’ll see you Tallpaw!” Jake called with some uncertainty.

Tallpaw wasn’t sure that he would, and felt a hollow pang in his chest at the thought. But he shouldn’t have run off and left Shrewpaw to do the assignment alone. But when he got back to the moor, instead of Shrewpaw, he was surprised to see Reena and Sparrow padding along the treeline. Tallpaw’s first instinct was to worry, but he remembered Sparrow apparently already knew he visited Jake sometimes. Reena waved her tail when she caught sight of him. She smiled in a friendly way, but the rest of her betrayed her worry. Sparrow wasn’t even looking at him. He kept staring down at his paws.

“Hello Tallpaw,” Reena said. “Have you seen Hen or Mole? They suddenly aren’t in camp and no one is sure where they’ve gone.”

“Hen? Not recently...I think I saw her just outside camp when I left early this morning.”

“Well she’s not here, so we should look somewhere else,” Sparrow hissed, already padding away.

Reena dipped her head to Tallpaw apologetically. “Well...if you see her or Mole...please tell them to return to your camp. Hen hasn’t been doing well, we’re worried about her.” With that, she turned and hurried after her companion.

***

Shrewpaw was waiting for him with a small rabbit and a disgruntled glare as Tallpaw tried not to look guilty. He was hoping he’d find the other apprentice soon enough to still be able to help. 

Shrewpaw just gave an irritated flick of his tail. "Whatever. This gets us back to camp faster. I’m tired. You can owe me for it later.”

On the way back, Tallpaw scented the air carefully and kept his ears pricked for any sign of Hen. Such a frail old cat surely could not have gotten far alone, but he still didn’t see any sign of her or Mole. Hopefully they hadn’t gotten lost. 

A very tired looking Briarpaw was the first cat to catch them.

“Hey Briarpaw,” Tallpaw called. “You haven’t seen Hen around have you? Reena said that she’s wandered off.”

Briarpaw looked grim. “I’m afraid we have.”

Tallpaw expected the worst judging by the look on his friends face, and his suspicions were quickly confirmed.

 “She wanted to go on a walk with Mole. Apparently she needed to stop and rest while out on the moor, and she just...didn’t wake up again. Some of the warriors found Mole laying with her and had to carry her back. Hawkheart tells me she was already passed before they got her to camp. We’re not sure what the visitors will want done.”

Sure enough, when they walked into camp, there lay the still white shape of Hen, with Mole pressed close to her side. Tallpaw was a bit stunned. He had never actually seen a dead cat before. She had been alive just before he left, and had even spoken to him not long before that. And now here she lay, her fur messy and tangled with bits of thistle that Mole was attempting to lick out of her fur. Tallpaw felt a twinge of guilt then.

“She had to have gone at almost the same time as me…” He murmured to himself. “I was so distracted when I left to catch up with Shrewpaw. Perhaps if I’d paid more attention...They shouldn’t have been allowed to go walking around.” 

Briarpaw pressed his nose to his shoulder softly. “A walk on the moor isn’t what killed her, her sickness was one beyond our powers to cure. She died with her mate at least. Cloudrunner and Brackenwing have gone out to find the rest of their friends.”

Tallpaw nodded solemnly, but he still felt bad. The visitors were so lively and kind--most of them anyway. He really had hoped they would be able to help. 

Bess and Algernon returned shortly, approaching Mole with their heads bowed as they both in turn pressed their noses to their old companions' bodies. The clan stood back in quiet hesitation. There wasn’t a ceremony to perform for cats who weren’t clanmates, but no one wanted to step forward to offer condolences yet either, so they were silent. Do Sparrow and Reena know yet? Tallpaw thought. Sparrow had seemed so sure Hen would get better soon. However prickly and unapproachable the little loner could be, Tallpaw wouldn’t have wished this on him, or any cat. He didn’t envy whoever had to break the news to him. Who knew how he would react? 

Unfortunately, they didn’t have to wait long to find out. Mole hadn’t moved from Hen’s side until he heard the two young cats’ return. Sparrow stood rigid at the top of the shallow slope leading into camp and Mole began to limp over to him, standing in front of him as if he wanted to block his view. Tallpaw was too far away to read Sparrow’s expression or make out Mole’s hushed words until eventually he heard Sparrow raise his voice, tight as he fought to keep it steady.

“Then why did we even come here!?” he snarled, “we only went so far out of the way because they were supposed to help us, and most of them didn’t even want to!”

Sparrow’s sharp gaze snapped towards Hawkheart and Briarpaw, who sat some distance away from the body of Hen. Hawkheart didn’t give much away but he narrowed his eyes at Sparrow’s accusing glare

“She didn’t get better at all! If anything she got worse, did they even try? They just wanted us to leave, the quicker she was gone, the quicker we were gone. Is that it?”

Tallpaw was afraid Hawkheart would turn on the little cat at the accusation, but he didn’t even ruffle his fur. “My orders were to treat her to the best of my ability, so that is what I did. My feelings played no part in it. There was a sickness forming from the mass inside her. It was already taking her life when she arrived here. All the herbs and remedies StarClan has gifted us could not remove what was already set fast.”

“Then why was it so fast?” Sparrow looked back at Mole. “She was alright not more than two moons ago, and she could still walk when we got here, why didn’t we have more time at least if their healers were good for anything?”

“Sparrow, please,” Bess’s voice was firm, but raspy in barely concealed grief. “This isn’t what Hen would want at her place of passing. It was her time.”

“I don’t want her to be here. She shouldn’t be here.” Sparrow's eyes darted around to the staring strangers surrounding him. He looked like he wanted to spit more insults but couldn't find the words for them as he dug his trembling claws into the soil. Mole stepped closer, but Sparrow backed away and was gone back through the entrance in a heartbeat.

 Reena insisted on going after him to make sure he was ok, although Tallpaw couldn’t help suspecting he'd want to be alone, away from prying eyes idly observing his pain. It was hard to blame him for that.

Heatherstar eventually approached the small group and offered to keep vigil for her in the camp. 

“Thank you for your kindness, Heatherstar,” Bess said quietly, “but we will find our own place. Wherever we bury her for her final sleep must be carefully chosen, and it can’t be here.” 

They took several moments to rest before they attempted to carry her. Tallpaw spent a long while watching them silently grieve in their own way. Hen looked a bit like she was sleeping on her side, if it were not for the stiffness in her limbs, all the more noticeable when the visitors lifted her body between Algernon and Bess and slowly made their way out of camp. That unnerving scent he had smelled on her earlier came to him again. Unmistakably he knew it was the scent of death. Where would a cat go if they did not know their way to StarClan? Where was Hen now? Was she anywhere? 

Tallpaw couldn't help the curiosity to look over the ridge around camp to see where the visitors were taking their friend. They were out of sight, but he did see Reena not too far off, looking around with her tail and ears drooping. Tallpaw felt an urge to approach her, but he wasn’t sure it was a good idea. She caught his gaze and offered a small friendly blink that he took as a sign it was alright to come closer.

Tallpaw dipped his head. “I’m... really sorry about Hen. I’m sorry we couldn’t help.” It didn’t really feel like much, but it was the best he could think to offer.

“I believe that you all did what you could. I’m just glad she was with Mole at the end…" she said.

“Did you find Sparrow?”

Reena let out a small sigh “No. I suspect I won’t. He is good at not being found when he doesn’t wish to be. I’m terribly sorry for his outburst, he’s really a good cat deep down, but...this will hurt for some time. He'll find us himself when he’s ready. We won’t lay her body to rest until he does. Now that we have no reason to hurry, we will probably travel back south to the housefolk town for the cold seasons, give ourselves time to recover. We have friends there that will make finding shelter and safety easier.”

“Will you continue on your travels as you did before?” Tallpaw asked meekly. He didn’t have time to wonder if that was inappropriate to ask after he’d said it. He wasn’t sure the right way to navigate around this topic.

To his relief, Reena gave him a small smile. “We will, eventually. There was only one thing Hen ever asked of us, and that was for us to continue telling her stories after she was gone. It all started because of her, and she wanted nothing more than for it to outlive her. You know, I really am grateful we got to perform that story to you all. It was one of her favorites. So...Thank you for giving us a chance to tell it with her one last time.”

Tallpaw walked along with her for a short ways. He hadn’t planned on it, but it felt like the right thing to do as Reena spoke.

“I think we all knew Hen’s time with us was running short, even if we didn’t want to admit it. We hoped we’d be able to get her to the sea first.” Reena trailed off with a little sigh. “She was so excited to take Sparrow there. This would have been his first time. She was so much happier when we found him as a kit. Those two were closer than anything...We’re confident she will still travel with us, and we’ll guide her spirit home to the sea come next newleaf. She always believed we all end up where we are meant to be sooner or later, in this world or the next.” She paused, looking ahead to the far woods. “I should join my family now. I hope your clanmates will forgive us being a bit distant for a little while after all your hospitality...Thank you for walking with me.”

Reena touched his nose briefly and padded away. Tallpaw could only wish the strange cats well. Even when he couldn’t see them anymore, the image of Hen’s body unnerved him and lodged in his mind like a burr. 

He had a memory that was perhaps not quite real before this moment, of a still body no bigger than a mouse lying close at his side, stiff and covered in that distinct scent of death. Death shouldn’t unsettle him as much as it did, but it made him feel terribly lonely. He wished he took comfort in the ghosts that Reena’s family believed in. To him, StarClan still felt so quiet and far away, if anything more of a stern distant force staring over his shoulder to judge whether or not he was behaving as a worthy descendant of his clan. Ultimately, this sadness wasn’t meant for him. He wasn’t a visitor, and he could not afford to dwell on grief like them. Not for cats, or kits, he never really knew.

The life of a warrior meant living alongside death closely, an unforgiving force that could strike the life from a cat that he’d known and walked with just days before. He knew it was something he should accept, and feel no fear towards. But Tallpaw still hoped in vain that he would not have to meet it again.

chapter list / previous / next

[mirckel]

watching a friend read through the fate route (and run into the 500 illya related bad ends) it’s just really painfully obvious how much of the way she acts so childlike is an act. in fate she constantly lies about her age (it doesn’t come up in hf iirc), but she very often acts younger than she is, trying to make other think less of her just so she can prove them wrong.

a lot of the way she acts comes from emotional stunting from her upbringing and plain old anger at her life and situation. it doesn’t really get handled in fate (or ubw for obvious reasons, though ubw does give hints to reason why she acts the way she does), but a lot of things she say in hf make it obvious how she doesn’t actually want to act like it.

“Wha...what do you mean 'try to look strong'!? I've never thought I don't want to be here! My body was made to be a Holy Grail. It pains me to become the key for their sake, but if by doing that I can use the Grail's power, then even Sakura...”

it’s really a thin line of she’s so angry and upset but also she was taught how to handle herself & taught to be above others due to her einzbern lineage.

“...Ehe, but it's a little bit too bad. I wish that you'd said those words a little sooner. If you had... yeah, if you had then perhaps our fates might have been a little different.”

illya came to kill kiritsugu for leaving her to go through everything she was promised she wouldn’t have to go through, only to learn that he was dead & his adoptive son was not. illya confesses in hf that things could have gone different had she known that shirou would care for her like family.

the act mainly starts slipping away during fate route bad ends where she’s just angry enough not to care anymore, but often she goes back to it (re: making shirou her “servant” in fate route bad end).

at the end of fate route since none of it ever was discussed & illya was taken in by taiga it never ended. especially considering illya knew for a fact she had upmost a year to live anymore. she does also let it slip slightly at the end of hf (”at the end of miracle”), but again she dies.

if illya was able to live longer she could find and come to terms with a version of herself that wouldn’t be so childlike, but act slightly more like her age - though slowly considering she never really had a life to live & develop her sense of self in.

[palbabor-writes]

Moniker

Hawks Week 2020 - Prompt: Rebirth

Character: Keigo Takami - Hawks

Warnings: Angst, some adult language, the drama of growing up

Word Count: 5433

“They need you to pick a name, Keigo. You’re old enough now and the data has shown that you’re learning how to control your quirk. The advancements we’ve seen in the last few months have been outstanding. The HPSC wants you to start making a name for yourself, publicly. We’re hoping, in six or so years, you’ll be operating on a professional level. 

So, look over those names and pick one. Once you do, you’ll no longer go by Keigo Takami. No, that name will be expunged from the records.”

Why? He’d wanted to ask. Why can’t he keep his name? Does it really matter? What were they going to do with him? Why was he even in this program? 

There were so many questions racing through his mind. But, he just nodded and looked out the window. What good did it do to ask? They weren’t going to tell him anything. This was all just another manipulation. They always tried, so, so hard to let him feel like he had a say in his name, in his life, in anything. 

In reality, he was just their little puppet, floating along on a tight string.

Notes: Part of Hawks Week 2020, Day 7 - Prompt: Rebirth.

This fic, like my Shigaraki exploration, Phantasma is part of a smaller series I’m calling Hopscotch. There’s a ton of kids in the BNHA universe that just need a freaking hug, man. But, all this trauma does give me some nice topics to write about...Not beta edited, so all mistakes are mine, and mine alone.

Moniker mon·i·ker /ˈmänəkər/ noun a name.

Keigo Takami is a ward of the Hero Public Safety Commission. 

He’s been a ward for most of his life. He’s used to the routine: the daily drills, the daily training, the daily lessons, the daily lectures, the daily monotony of it all. 

He’s never alone. 

There’s always a few of them hovering. They, being the agents who are assigned to his daily care and maintenance. They’re like black spots, bleeding out against the clean, crisp linoleum floors. He’s shuttled around like a chess piece. As if he needs a shadow to guide him. He knows this building inside and out. He knows just where to perch if he wants to avoid the cameras and he knows the secrets of at least five or six of his handlers. 

They blurt stuff out around him. People never think kids are listening. Too bad for them, cuz, he’s got enough dirt to take them straight to the top if he wanted to. Not that he wants to. Some of the handlers are nice, but Keigo has learned that sometimes nice is another way to say: manipulative.

So, he imagines that he can flex a little control over them, too. He’s got the information, he’s just not sure who to take it to. He’s never seen the head of the HPSC. They remain an enigma. The leader of this whole thing is the one piece he hasn’t slipped onto the puzzle. No, whoever they are, they’re mysterious. He only knows they exist because he’s seen their hen scratch of a signature on his progress reports and monthly, “how are you doing Keigo,” emails. 

Despite the mystery, the head of the HPSC is the one constant in his life. He can’t say the same of his handlers. Most of the people who surround him shift and change. They’re like a tide.

When he was younger, his father used to take him down to the beach. Keigo was always fascinated by the pull, the drag, of that dark blue water.

Yeah, these handlers of his moved in and out like a tide. Every month it was someone else. One or two might be familiar faces, but they never told him their names. Well, not their real names at least. No, no one ever revealed those. Keigo was accustomed to the secrecy of it all. It was kinda boring. 

But, most days were. 

It was just him and the various adults who were tasked with his lessons or training schedules. It was a never ending circle, a rotation of sameness that made his teeth ache. There were no other kids at the base. No, lucky him, he was the only one selected to receive this special training.

When he was smaller he’d been a little more excited. He’d wander behind the dark suits, clutching his Endeavor figure to his chest, his eyes scanning every room, every person, every crevice. 

You can never be too careful Kei, his father had told him, his golden eyes winking down at him. Always keep your eyes and ears open. 

“It’s a special program, Keigo. Starting today, you need to say goodbye to your name. You’re going to become a very special hero, okay?” 

It was a younger man who had talked with him that afternoon. He can remember looking down at his toy, the plastic heavy, sticking to his clenched arms. Keigo can recall his small voice asking the man two questions: “Can I be like him? Can I be a hero who beats the bad guys?”

At the time, they had felt so, well, important to him. They were all encompassing, vital queries that needed to know the answer to back then. He disliked them now. They were stupid questions. Besides, what self respecting adult takes the word of a six year old seriously? 

He’s eleven now. He’s way past those childish dreams. And, they still hadn’t taken his name from him. Oh, they hinted at it. He’d even caught sight of one of the lists. 

The lists were the long rows and rows of potential hero names for Keigo. Not that he was asked much about any of this. His opinion didn’t matter in the grand scheme of things. He’d only managed to see one of the lists a few years ago. His handler hadn’t been expecting him back so fast. 

He wasn’t supposed to use his wings unless he was in the training facility. Little did they know, he’d been practicing. How could he not? He could feel each and every tiny thing with his feathers. It drove him insane. If he was drifting off to sleep he would feel the electricity humming through the walls. When he focused hard enough he could hear the distant conversations happening on the floors above him. 

It was an endless march of noise, emotion, and sensations. He felt like he was overstimulated all the time, his skin too heavy for his bones. He wanted to scream some days: get these off me, I can’t, I-I can’t take it. But, he had to learn how to grapple with his quirk. It was part of him. 

Still, sometimes he wished he was someone, anyone else. 

‘Turn it off’, they said, ‘dampen the urge to reach out with your feathers’. 

Yeah, right. Let them slip into his quirk, see how much they liked the all consuming sensation of it all. It was too much, too intense. Some days it’s a fight to make himself get out of his bed. Everything is just...too close, sometimes. 

He’s just a kid, he wanted to tell them. Like that would grant him a reprieve. No, he already knew what answer they would give him. The HPSC had selected you for a purpose, a reason, Keigo. 

They fed him such vague, well, bullshit. Yeah, he knows he shouldn’t say words like that, whatever. They shouldn’t be doing this, er, whatever it was that they were hoping to achieve with him. But, it’s not like the confirmed acknowledgement of their preposterousness would stop them. No, he’d learned to keep his mouth shut and his eyes open. It was the best way to survive the endless march of days and weeks. He would nod, practice, and then practice a little more in secret. 

It’s his quirk after all. If he could perfect it, maybe they would loosen his leash.  

His wings were still a little stunted. They could grow to longer points, but it took a lot of time and a lot of concentration. It was like his body knew exactly what he could, or could not, in this case, handle. More feathers meant more sensations. More sensations meant less sleep, less control, and, worst of all, less autonomy. There would be more tests, more training, more, more, more. 

Still, he worked at it. It was a double edged sword. He both hated, and loved, the improvements he saw within himself. 

Despite his impeded wing growth, Keigo could flap himself along now. He could even hover in the air for a little while, but his back would protest the strain after forty minutes or so. It hurt to hold himself up. His shoulders just weren't broad enough to maintain his weight. He’d been hoping that eating a little more would help. You know, beef him up a little. 

He’d brought the subject up with one of his handlers, one of the ones he actually knew. The man had nodded, his curly blonde hair bobbing around his ears. And, with that, his food rations were extended. He was also given some other choices too. Some steak, veal, higher protein foods. He’d stubbornly stuck with chicken. He liked the taste. Never one to pass up an opportunity, Keigo took advantage of the larger portions and he gorged himself on the succulent meat. 

Four weeks later, he hadn’t grown much. Maybe what, half a pound? Nah, most of that energy must have been consumed by his quirk. But, the more he ate, the easier it was to focus on it. Meh, still a win, win. At least from the HPSC’s viewpoint. 

He mentioned that there are never any kids around the HPSC training facility, right? 

Adults? You couldn’t swing a dead cat and not hit at least 4 or 5 of them, at any given moment. Keigo didn’t mind. He was used to adults. By nature he was quiet, observant. It was his habit to position himself in the corners of rooms. It let him see anyone and everyone who entered or left. He likes watching. But, he’s done that his whole life. Even before the HPSC picked him up he’d learned how to hone that skill. 

Now, the trainers and handlers were trying to break him of that tic. 

‘You need to curb that Keigo’, they’d say. ‘If you’re going to become a successful hero you can’t just sit in the shadows. We already have plenty of agents who are trained for that. No, you need to be more gregarious. Speak up, talk with people. You’ve been drilled in this skill, now show us what you’ve learned. We want you to be a hero’.

So, he myna birds what they ask. They’ll leave him alone that way. Sure, sure, he’s rewarded with gifts, with praise, with extra free time. But, it’s all so calculated. He can smell their intentions a mile away. He’s seen the books some of them read. They were books with titles like: The Psychology of the Child, The Developing Mind, Playing and Reality. 

If that wasn’t obvious enough, he’d heard some of the conversations they passed as they handed off their shifts, the words lilting back and forth, like secret notes. 

“Ignore his minor tactics. It’s just him responding to the attention. Only praise him when he’s behaving.” Or, “Give Keigo labeled praise. You know, build his self esteem. He’s so quiet, it’s hard to tell what he’s thinking. Pack a snack for him. That way when he opens up to you, boom! Treat in hand.”

Do they not realize how much he can hear? God, adults are dumb. Smile and give them what they want, or, say what they most need to hear and they’re eating out of your hand. Meanwhile, as they’re congratulating themselves on a job well done, they had no idea what thoughts were racing behind his golden irises. 

No, Keigo is motivated by other things. One motivation trumps all the others: he wants to get outta this place. Just for a day, heck, he’d take an hour. Keigo is tired of the same walkway, the same lunch hall, the same dreary views of the city. 

It’s springtime in Japan and Keigo can make his feathers molt. It’s a newer skill, one he’s withholding from his handlers for the time being. Maybe if he feigns a cough, he can pretend to be sick? He’s gotten pretty good at acting now. That was another one of his classes. It was like a, how to deceive someone 101. Actually, it was prolly called something like ‘Espionage for Tots’. 

It was fun. He liked the smiles and serious faces he was asked to make. They should have slapped a big: “please, Keigo, don’t use these skills to deceive us” disclaimer on the door. He liked the guy that taught it, too. He was a short, unassuming man, but he would genuinely grin at Keigo each time he walked through the door for his session. Oh, wait. Was that just an act? He’d have to ask him. Boy, he’s good if it was. He needs to shore up his own skills…

He could always pretend that an imaginary sick day was part of the lesson. Look! My poor feathers, they’re molting, how sad. Also, cough, cough, I feel ill. No, ill is a bad choice of words. Ahem, I mean, I don’t feel so good. Can I lay down? Maybe prop open my window, for the fresh air. Oh no! I accidentally swooped out. Cough, cough.  

Keigo isn’t even sure what he’d do with himself if he could manage to sneak out. It’s not like he’s not noticeable. He’s sporting at least 7 feet of ruby red plumage now. Well, if he’s gonna plan an escape, he might as well do it-

“Keigo,” it’s a sharp voice, and it startles him out of his musings. It belongs to one of the head handlers. Kaori? Yeah, that’s her name. Eh, the one she’d given him at least. She’s nice enough, a little rough around the edges at times, but she’s fair. Maybe, oh, maybe he can ask her about-

“Are you listening, Keigo? We need to go. The provost was expecting us over an hour ago. Where have you been? Mai couldn’t find you so she asked me to look for you.”

“I was up there.” Keigo points, his chin lifting to follow his movement, wings fluttering against his back. Despite her tone, Kaori doesn’t seem too upset. Her heartbeat is normal. But, that didn’t mean much around here.

“Up there?” Kaori’s tone is faint and a little awed. She turns her violet gaze to his, pursing her lips into a thin line. “Since when?”

“It’s been, ah, three months and sixteen days since I first made it to that perch. They didn’t like that I went so far. Eiichi said he was going to document it though. I mean, it ain’t too far. Guess I can go for a lower spot next time. I just like that I can see more up there, it makes it-”

“No, no. It’s fine Keigo. Don’t say “ain’t,” it’s slang. I suppose it has been awhile since I’ve seen you. How old are you now? Ten?”

“Eleven,” Keigo replies, his back straightening, wings arching beside his head.

“Mmm, eleven. Gosh, you’re growing up fast,” Kaori’s reply is sharp, practiced. Keigo rolls his eyes. She wanted to spark a reaction out of him. See if he’ll puff up with joy or grow sullen with her mistake of thinking he’s younger than he is. It’s easier to assign him extra training than really deal with him. At least, that’s what some of his handlers seemed to think. 

“Have you seen the news?” Kaori asks, violet eyes resting on his amber ones. “There’s a mission coming up. Endeavor’s agency is taking it on.”

Keigo feels his wings lifting again, but he quickly suppresses the motion, his shoulders hunching forward. He never, ever, wanted to seem too eager. Not when they’d primed him for such an obvious tell. It’s not like they didn’t know what heroes he admired. 

Yeah, Keigo had seen the news. He was permitted two hours of television each day. Most blocks were taken up with watching the latest developments. Sometimes he would shift the channel to a cartoon, but the television time would be lessened if he watched nonsense for too long. No, the tv was for educational purposes only, not for leisure or fun. He’d heard that line enough to have it memorized. 

“What about it?” Keigo asks, falling into step with Kaori. She’s taking the long way back to his next lesson. Clearly, she’s wanting to glean something from him. 

“Well, I was thinking it might be beneficial for you to observe the mission.”

“What, like on CCTV or something?”

“No. In person. We would need to fit into the crowd, but this mission has been widely publicized, it’s a miracle the villain’s haven’t heard about it.”

“That, or they want the fight.”

Kaori laughs. “Very good, excellent observation. You’ve improved Keigo. Consider this a set date. I will personally escort you to the mission viewing point. At the end of the exercise, I would like to hear your opinion on the matter.”

Keigo bites his tongue. 

It’s too slick again, too obvious. The mission Kaori mentioned fits the profile of a raid, not the everyday, run of the mill, villain sting. Endeavor’s agency had been squaring up with the lower level fighting rings for months now. This was just another day for him. The number two hero promised to clean up crime and he was following through with that assertion. 

So, why take him to see it now? Why did it matter if Keigo saw it in person? The data and video would be uploaded the next day to the HPSC database, he could just watch it and take notes then. 

Why is she doing this?

Keigo chances a glance at her face. She’s pale, stern and stoic above him. Her heels click on the tiles and her back is ramrod straight. A few feathers bristle, feeling, listening, nah, her pulse is steady too. It’s hopeless. Maybe this is the challenge? Something to test him, to try and see if he can get a read on the unreadable?

“What’s the point of me going? What good does it do? My data sheets haven’t slipped enough to call for anything like this.”

“Don’t be so critical of everything Keigo,” Kaori scolds him, her purple eyes lingering on his spreading plumage. “It’s not a test, it’s not a drill. I just...I can remember what it was like to be a teenager and be trapped doing something I didn’t want to do.”

Again, Keigo is silent after her declaration. He’s not really sure how to answer. Pragmatic, logical, even angry responses, he’s used to those. This? What is this? Some kinda misplaced empathy? He never would have placed an empathetic bone in Kaori’s body before today. 

They pause at the provost’s doorway and Kaori places an arm on his shoulder, demanding his attention with her strong grip. 

“Let me know by tomorrow.” 

And, with that, she’s gone, pacing down the long hallway, her heels tapping a sharp tattoo against the flooring. Keigo narrows his eyes, avian pupils dilating, focusing. Sure, maybe it was just an opportunity, a chance for him to get out of the headquarters for a while, but there’s always a catch. 

******

The email comes a few hours later. 

Keigo is sprawled across his bed, his wings tucked safely along his shoulders as he flips through his textbook. He lifts his head from his pillow and sighs heavily at the familiar chime from his computer. It’s either more geometry problems or it’ll have something to do with what Kaori was discussing: The Endeavor mission.

His wings shift and rustle as he stands. He’s agitated, on edge. He dislikes being maneuvered into a corner. No matter what the email is over, he’ll feel obligated to say yes. Even if it’s by default. 

Keigo steps up to his computer, his long fingers racing over the keypad, typing in his encrypted password. As he waits for the screen to load, his eyes fall to the battered figurine beside his monitor. 

It’s the Endeavor toy. He’s kept it all these years, safe and sound, in each bedroom he’s moved to. The flames are dull and his bright blue uniform is more mottled than cobalt, but it’s still a tiny piece of his other life. 

His father had given it to him. It was years ago. He hadn’t thought he was going to get anything for his birthday, but then, his father had flown in, his own plumage glimmering against the dying sunlight and presented four year old Keigo with the toy. He had clutched it to him, his eyes shining and bright. 

“Dad! Ah, how did you know?” 

His father had beamed at him, his eyes softening at the sight of his son’s genuine smile. Keigo didn’t smile a lot back then. Their life was too tumultuous, too chaotic. There was too much at stake. His father had gathered him up and pressed the button that activated the toy’s internal voice box. Keigo had squealed with delight and wrapped his arms around his father’s neck. 

Now, Keigo traces a single finger along the top of the Endeavor’s head, running along the dimmed flames. He’s seen a decent amount of coverage on the number two hero lately. He’d even gone as far as studying his moves. Not that it mattered. His quirk would never be a match for the flame heroes skills. But, he had to admire the guy. 

He was constantly overshadowed, outranked and outclassed by All Might. Still, Endeavor pushed forward. He’s the only one who really tried to overtake the number one hero. It was both impressive and, well, kinda pathetic, desperate even. All the same, Keigo kept hunting for news of the number two. Once you have a favorite, Keigo reasoned, you tend to stick with them. 

Tearing his eyes away from the little figurine, Keigo clicks on the new email. He blinks a few times, even rubs his eyes. No, no way. He spreads his fingers along the computer’s trackpad, enhancing the words. Yeah, no, it’s really there. 

It’s the list. 

Remember? The one with all the HPSC’s approved names for him? 

It’s, well, it’s even more anticlimactic than he was expecting. Damn, it’s over three pages of the most asinine, inane bullshit. Two bad words, oh no, and in one sentence. In his defense, this crap deserved a whole string of curse words.  

There are names like: REDWING, Darkbird, Vulture, WINGMAN, Canary, Condor, RED Condor, Northwind, Zauriel, Red jay, WING. God, it’s just page after page of trash. Whomever they paid to create this, well, they needed a new day job. Might as well just call him: BIRDBOY or something. Sighing, Keigo clicks out of the email, his plumage lifting and lowering, feathers rustling again, perturbed. Yeah, he’s got wings. So what? That’s not all he is.  

Keigo is about to pace back to his bed when another email chimes in. Groaning, he doesn’t even look at the sender before opening it. Oh.

It’s from Kaori and the head of the HPSC. They were wanting to confirm the viewing of the Endeavor mission. Both felt that it was a good use of Keigo’s time and the HPSC’s resources. They just need his answer.

Funny, Keigo thinks, tapping a quick reply, they always like to pretend that he has a say in things. 

******

He’s never been a tall kid. He’s not sure if it’s his quirk or something genealogical. Quirk makes the most sense. It’s hard enough to lug his own tiny body around, he can’t even imagine trying to pull someone like Endeavor into the air. 

Keigo’s seen the number two plenty of times. God, hundreds and hundreds of times, really. But, he’s not prepared for the hulk of a man that is standing before him. Enji Todoroki, that’s his real name. Most heroes don’t hide their civilian names. No, they’re all listed in the databases of the HPSC and open for public scrutiny. Keigo shifts on the balls of his feet, his toes tapping against the pavement. Apparently, that’s not going to be an option for him.

Kaori had sat, prim and proper, next to him in the long black car as they drove to the mission site. Her violet eyes were dull flints of purple as she relayed the news: 

“They need you to pick a name, Keigo. You’re old enough now and the data has shown that you’re learning how to control your quirk. The advancements we’ve seen in the last few months have been outstanding. The HPSC wants you to start making a name for yourself, publicly. We’re hoping, in six or so years, you’ll be operating on a professional level. 

So, look over those names and pick one. Once you do, you’ll no longer go by Keigo Takami. No, that name will be expunged from the records.”

Why? He’d wanted to ask. Why can’t he keep his name? Does it really matter? What were they going to do with him? Why was he even in this program? There were so many questions racing through his mind. But, he just nodded and looked out the window. 

What good did it do to ask? They weren’t going to tell him anything. This was all just another manipulation. They always tried, so, so hard to let him feel like he had a say in his name, in his life, in anything. In reality, he was just their little puppet, floating along on a tight string. 

Keigo looked over the police tape to Endeavor again. Even the number two hero got to keep his name. What makes Keigo so different?

“They’ll be rushing the entrance soon,” Kaori says, her arms crossed, her pressed suit dark against the bright sunlight. “You might be able to see it a little better if you move to the other end of the street.” 

Keigo looks up at her, his eyes impassive. Kaori, sensing his gaze, blinks down at him. “Don’t go far. Consider this a small reward for good behavior. I know what I told you in the car can’t have been easy to hear. Don’t make me regret giving you a little more freedom.” 

For a long moment, Keigo is still. 

He wants to dash off. He’s never done that. It would be nice to place a little distance between him and his handler. Plus, he’s outside. It’s a beautiful day, just puffy clouds and the fresh, clean smell of springtime. Well, and the hustle and bustle of the raid that is unfolding across the street. He looks up at Kaori and her violet eyes lift away from him. She shakes her head and a small smile creeps across her lips. 

“Go on, you better hurry. Endeavor’s about to enter the building.”

It’s all the prodding he needs. Like a shot, Keigo is dashing through the crowd. A few people clamor around him, their voices distant, complaints and admonishments ringing over his golden head. He rounds the street corner and his wings lift, testing the air, trying to tug him into the skies. 

Amber eyes flash as he looks for the perfect spot. Ah-ha! There’s a low, tiled roof across the street. If he can get up to the second story he should be able to see into the back of the compound Endeavor is conducting the raid on.

His back aches, muscles tired and straining, but he ignores the sting. His wings lap against the warm air and, just like that, he’s landing on the roof, his sneakers bright against the dark tile. Keigo turns back to the compound. Yes! Perfect! He can see everything. His wings settle along his shoulders, still lifted as he crouches down, the plumage vibrating, listening.

Keigo can hear some of the transmission between the heroes. Their radios are switched up and the static sound makes his nose wrinkle. It feels fuzzy, almost like he’s stepped on a live wire. Apparently, Endeavor is about to move into the exposed courtyard and Keigo sits up straighter, his wings spreading, cupping under the low wind. He’s so focused on catching sight of the number two that he doesn’t hear the warning cry.

No, he only notices the danger when it’s too late.

His feathers bristle, arching, quivering, reacting as a set of talons rips into his delicate plumage. His wings throb. It stings and he feels the anger, the rage that is coursing through the culprit that’s attacking him. Their screams make his ears ache and he rolls away, his hands instinctively covering his head, protecting himself from the sudden onslaught. His golden eyes are narrowed and searching. What the hell-

The pieces fit into place when he sees her. 

It’s a hawk. She’s already taken to the skies, her dark wings wheeling her back to the roof. She lifts upward, the strong winds carrying her high, against the clouds. Then, she’s diving, her feathers bracing along her sides, propelling her at a terrifying speed. 

She’s headed straight for him. 

Keigo, unthinkingly, rolls out of the way, his own wings flaring open and flapping him a good ten feet or so, hopefully placing him out of range. The hawk pulls up, another scream echoing across the sky. She wheels around, her sharp beak and eyes trained on him. Keigo’s foot slips against the uneven surface of the roof and he bites his lip, his ankle twisting painfully. 

“Hey! Keigo! Oh, there you are. Come on! The raid is wrapping up, we need to get back.”

Kaori’s voice shudders up his spine, his oversensitive wings making her sound like a foghorn. Wait. The raid is over? He whirls back to the compound, his eyes scanning, flashing in his agitation. 

No. No, no, no. 

She’s right. Endeavor and his sidekicks are already back at the front of the building, he can’t even see them clearly from here. He’s missed his chance. Damn it. 

It’s not fair, he thinks, a misting of tears clouding his sight. He’d been so close. And now? Now, he’s gotta go back to that stupid building. Now, they’re going to take away his name and force him to do even more training. Who knows when he’ll get out again. It’s just, it’s not freaking fair.

Keigo wipes his arm against his eyes, pulling the moisture across his sleeve. He can’t let Kaori see him cry. He hasn’t cried in years. He’s not going to give them the satisfaction of knowing that he still...wait...what’s that?

Across the rooftop, close to where his original perch was, is a nest. It looks clumsy, like it might fall off into open space at any moment. It’s held together with a spattering of twigs and sticks, but there’s movement. Keigo lowers his arm, his wings lifting again, feeling. There’s one...no...there’s two chicks inside. They feel soft. Their heartbeats are fluttering, like a butterfly’s wing.  

He looks down at Kaori. She’s standing on the street corner, shielding her eyes from the sun as she peers up at him. Keigo lifts his hand so she can see, one finger raised, silently asking her for a little more time. Kaori groans, he can hear her exhale from here, and nods, lowering her gaze, one hand propped on her jutted hip.

“Be quick about it, Keigo.” 

He lets his wings bevel over his shoulders and he hops, carefully, slowly, across the tiles. As he gets closer, two pairs of yellow eyes peer at him, half hidden in the tangle of twigs. He grins and leans up, wanting to look a little…

The hawk, quick as lightning clatters in front of the nest, shielding her chicks from his curious observation. Her wings flare at his proximity, her beak open, sharp. She clicks a warning, her feathers spreading. Keigo mimics her display, his own wings fanning out and the hawk tilts her head, surprised. Her eyes blink, the dark orange shifting from agitated to quizzical. Slowly, her wings lower, draping along her back. Talons shift against the tiles and she chirps at him. It’s a different sound, less challenging. It's almost like a question.

Keigo lifts one of his hands, his fingers balled into a fist and gingerly extends his arm, his shoes sliding closer. She lifts her wings and glides a little nearer, her head still tilted in that exaggerated way. She chirps at him again and lowers her head. If he reaches out a little further he could stroke a finger down her feathers. Just a bit…

“Keigo!” 

The sound of his name startles him and the hawk. She yanks from his touch and launches herself back into the skies. Keigo watches her, fascinated by the ease, the grace that she moves with. As he’s admiring her fluidity, a single feather flutters to his feet. He almost misses it. The wind starts to catch it, pulling it away, but he snatches it up, his fingers careful to not crush the barbs. 

“Keigo, I’m not going to ask again...”

He uses his wings to help him down the side of the building. The verdant plumage is swelling, arching behind him. It feels different. Keigo lowers them against his back, mirroring the way the hawk had draped them, the feathers close to his skin. It helps. They don’t feel like something that he’s untethered from when he holds them like that. He’s still basking in his discovery when Kaori steps toward him, one brow arched.

“You know better than that, Keigo. Didn’t I ask you to not make me regret giving you a little more freedom? Come on, we’re overdue. What’s that in your hand?”

“Nothing,” Keigo replies, tucking the hawk’s feather into his jean pocket. She was so pretty, fierce and quick.

“You put any thought into any of the names on the lists? We were thinking your hero name should be-”

“Hawks,” Keigo replies, his wings stretching behind him, shimmering in the bright sunlight. “I wanna be called Hawks.”

Notes: bb Keigo is too cute, I couldn’t resist.

Tags: @hawksweek2020​, @spicy-skull, 

[captainrexisboo]

Rex x Reader Drabble #1

Why not. Note: reader is a lady, because I am a lady. I can try my hand at other genders if you’d like, just request it, but only if you promise to beta it as well (I don’t want to get anything wrong)

Title: Dumb Luck

Warnings: some suggestive dialogue, very brief, nothing graphic

Link to next part

~

Rex looked down into her face, the nat-born’s eyes flurrying with unrestrained passion. Separated from the rest of the battalion, and the planet having absolute shit transmission, himself and Jesse had stumbled upon a short mechanic by the rare stroke of luck. Dressed in a blue denim jumpsuit stained in grease and oil, thick belt cinching the waist of her form, the mechanic was able to walk with them to their karked up speeder bike. Now, the bike fully functional again and neither of the vode having credits on them, he blinked underneath the visor of his helmet, completely at a loss for words at her request for payment.

“You want us to do what?”

“Take me with you,” she repeated, eyes shining with a special type of determination as her hair fell in a frame around her face, “This dirtball has been my home for twenty years and I’ve been bored out of my kriffin mind. But you two, you guys travel the galaxy, you see new worlds every day-”

“And fight more battles than you could ever be prepared for,” Rex backtracked his words, “No, that you will never be prepared for. This sand pit is good for one thing, and that’s staying safe. I’m sorry, but you’re not coming.”

She crinkled her nose at the Captain’s logic, “I-”

“-fixed our bike, yeah, and thanks,” Jesse finished the sentence, “But even if you could come with us, you’d be fixing a lot more than speeders. You’d be out of your league, sweetheart.”

“Sweetheart?” she sputtered out as the soldiers continued packing their things. She huffed, growling to herself and crossed her arms firmly over her ribs, “Then at least take me to where you’re going? I’d rather pack up my belongings and move someplace not in the middle of nowhere if I have to stay on this planet.”

“Sweetheart, we’re-”

“Call me that one more time,” she spat out, short as she might be there was still an air of scrappy danger to her, “See what happens.”

Rex didn’t have to see Jesse’s face to know that he was grinning at the audacious woman, and put a hand on his brother’s shoulder to keep him from riling her up even more. He jerked his head to the speeder, silently telling Jesse that he would take care of this.

As Jesse put up his hands in a mock surrender and walked off, Rex walked forward, copying her solid stance, “What’s your name?”

“Y/N,” she quirked an eyebrow at the Captain, eyes sizing him up.

“Well, Y/N,” Rex cleared his throat, putting on his best civvy voice, trying to make that connection that the Republic was telling the clones they had to have to make relations with the public easier, “You see, our speeder only has room for two. Even if we were taking you with us to base camp, we couldn’t fit you on the bike.”

“Oh please,” she rolled her eyes, “I’m sure you could make room. It’s not like I’m your size.”

“Well sure, but would you really want to be sandwiched in between two sheets of plastoid armor?” Rex combatted, holding out a hand as if he could show her exactly what he meant in his palm.

A sly look came through her gaze as she looked him up and down again, smile absolutely sinful, “You mean being in the middle of two strong, solidly built men? If I’m being honest Cap, it’s nothing I haven’t done before.”

Rex seemed to freeze in time at the words, the woman putting a scandalous image into his head, and if his helmet were off then Jesse would be howling with laughter at how red his face was getting as opposed to her retort. She was a very attractive woman, he’d have to be blind not to notice, so the picture of this stranger being handled in that way was nothing less than enticing to him. Especially as she cocked out a hip and bit her lip to him, eyes going smoky as she let a finger lazily trail down the side her torso and dance over the top of her thigh, “What’re you thinking of, Captain?”

He grit his teeth, clenching his jaw as he bit out, “Nothing of your concern, since you’re not coming with us. And that’s final.”

She groaned, flipping her demeanor over again as he turned around to help Jesse, “Awe, c’mon! I did your labor, I just want a ride!”

Jesse chuckled, “In what sense?”

She puffed out her cheeks, blazing red in outrage, “Look, either you’re taking me with you, or I’m...I’ll-”

Her emotions swelled inside her, making it hard to think. Overwhelmed, she stalked off, grabbing her tool box and then coming back. She shoved her way between the soldiers, throwing a leg over to straddle the seat and holding her head high, “This is all I ask in payment for fixing your kriffin bike, sirs. I could charge you outright, I could give you a debt to pay, I could make you clean my tools, but no. I want a ride.”

She kept her eyes screwed shut, waiting for rough hands to come out and throw her off.

Rex looked over to Jesse. It had been a long day for the two of them, getting lost because of Jesse’s terrible navigation skills, having a break down in the middle of all these dunes that look the damn same, walking in the kriffin dry as hell heat to just find a rascally woman with just the skills they’d need, only for her to be an absolute pain in the ass. Being soldiers, they knew there were some battles (even if you were on the right side of them) that you just couldn’t win. Jesse confirmed his thoughts with a shrug, and Rex sighed, low and slow, “Fine.”

Her eyes shot open again, registering that one little word said in a gruff and annoyed tone, it bouncing around in her headspace as she smiled wide, stars dancing in her eyes, “Thank you, thank you so much!”

She let a giggle bubble up through her, the light sound tugging at Rex’s heartstrings, before her next words made his cheeks dust pink, “You have no idea how much this means to me! If you didn’t have a helmet on, I’d kiss you!”

He cleared his throat at her starstruck stare, “You say the damndest things.”

“Call me bold,” she winked at him, and Jesse could hear his Captain’s jaw snap shut. Taking his chance to get behind the wheel again, he snuck up to Rex.

“Should I drive-”

“You, trooper,” Rex snapped out of whatever spell the mechanic had him under as he immediately turned around at Jesse’s voice, “Got us lost in the first place.”

“Captain,” Jesse put an arm around his pauldrons, turning Rex around so their backs were to the woman humming, satisfied with herself on the speeder, “Vod, if you’re driving then that means that pretty little thing will be pressed up against your back the entire time. Think you can handle that?”

Rex surprised Jesse by stating almost immediately, “Better than me holding her up against my front.”

“...why are you being the one she holds onto or whatever in either scenario?” Jesse questioned, slightly dumbfounded at his Captain’s train of thought.

Rex could only shrug in response, “Call it a hunch, ‘sweetheart’.”

Shortly after, they were on their way to meet the rest of the vode and General Skywalker, Rex driving with Y/N pressing herself tight to his back, arms laced around his waist. Jesse, much like Rex had predicted, was not given the same treatment from Y/N. The woman was as stubborn as a gundark, and when Jesse did attempt to secure himself by wrapping around her, took a swift elbow to the ribs. “Hold the seat,” was what she seethed to him. It was about a full hours drive, but they eventually found their way to the camp, being immediately spotted by the general.

“Rex! Jesse!” he called, walking over, “Where the hell have you two been? We’ve been trying to comm you for-”

He paused upon seeing their guest, and looked between the two of them asking a silent question with a set jaw.

“General Skywalker, this is Y/N,” Rex introduced, “Our speeder broke down, we had no transmission to call for help, but she was close by and able to fix us up. In record time, I might add.”

“A mechanic,” Anakin stroked his chin, “Glad fortune was on your side today, boys. Miss Y/N-”

“Just Y/N, if you could, General,” she interrupted, holding out a hand, “Ask your men here, I’m not miss anything.”

He quirked his scarred brow up at her, “All that matters is that you’re a mechanic. Know anything about droids?”

“Sir?” Rex questioned. Jesse had a hunch of his own, deciding to walk off and start unloading the supplies from their bike.

“That’s my hobby,” she smiled up at the Jedi, “Love finding old parts, cleaning them up and putting them to good use. The programming can be a little tricky, but it’s so fulfilling once your droid knows what it’s made to do.”

“Perfect,” Anakin smirked, “You’re with me, Y/N.”

“Sir!” Rex exclaimed, feeling out of the loop, “What are you doing? She’s a civvy!”

“I need her for this stunt to work, c’mon Captain,” Anakin motioned for the two of them to follow, taking them to a tent, “We’re gonna reprogram some seppie droids and get them behind enemy lines for intel gathering. So kriffin lucky you were able to find this one, Rex!”

“Looks like you’re stuck with me for a while, Cap,” she purred to him, giving him one more wink before sauntering off. Rex could only groan to himself as he watched her hips sway away. Yeah, it sure was some type of luck he had today.

[myheroacademiaposts18]

MHA One-Shot

Hi! This is a one-shot that I wrote a while back in December 2020. I thought I’d share it on here for the heck of it. 

‘Our Victory’

My Hero Academia One-Shot

Set after the league’s escape in the war arc

Written in December 2020. Edited in August 2021.  

Word count: 1.3k

Characters do not belong to me! They belong to Kohei Horikoshi!

-

Dabi sat at the edge of a rooftop. It was dark, but the stars lit up the night sky.  

A lot had happened. Shigaraki was hurt badly but healing. Spinner and Mr. Compress also had some injuries and were healing, but more slowly due to their lack of a regenerative quirk like Shigaraki. Toga was fine physically, but mentally she was damaged...more than usual. The death of twice took a huge toll on her. Since they had made their retreat, she hadn’t said a word. She would only cry and then go quiet. She hadn’t spoken to any of the members.  

Dabi winced when he felt the cool breeze against his skin. Everything hurt. His brief encounter with his brother Shoto left him in quite a messy state.  

“Damn it.” He muttered. Just trying to move his arm a little bit, he wanted to scream. The pain was beyond anything he could put into words. Maybe he shouldn’t have come up here. But a part of him didn’t mind the pain. He needed to feel it. He needed to feel something.  

He closed his eyes. His mind drifted to his previous encounter with Endeavor. He was so close. He had almost done it. He was going to end Shoto and himself and enjoy every minute of Endeavor’s pain and suffering.  

Okay maybe his planning in the end seemed a bit impulsive. Being in the moment, he wasn’t really thinking straight. But now, since his plan wasn’t successful, he had to deal with the consequences of his recklessness. He opened his eyes and glanced at his arms. He grimaced at the sight. ‘What a pain.’ He thought.  

“What the hell are you doing up here? Weirdo...”  

Dabi sighed at the familiar voice. “Why are you sneaking up on people in the middle of the night? Creep...”  

Shigaraki slowly made his way to Dabi’s side. He sat down and winced at the pain that shot through his body.  

Dabi glanced at him, taking in the leader’s current state. “You look terrible.” He stated bluntly.

“Right back at you.” Shigaraki mumbled. His voice was weak. He felt much worse than he looked.  

“At least you’re healing. I can’t exactly say the same.” Dabi said with a shrug. The simple movement made him want to scream in agony. ‘Damn it.’ He thought bitterly. He should be used to this pain by now. Still, it made it hurt no less.  

“Nice hair.” Shigaraki stated with no emotion whatsoever. Dabi only scoffed in response. “Compress and Spinner were able to catch me up.”  

“So, you know about Twice...”  

Shigaraki sighed, keeping his gaze to the ground below. “Yes. And I also know that you are pro-hero Endeavor’s son.”

Dabi froze. He had forgotten for a moment. The league had witnessed his little show and of course Shigaraki was going to hear about it.  

“Were you ever going to tell us?” Shigaraki finally looked at Dabi.  

Dabi was quiet for a moment. “Maybe. I don’t know. To be honest, I didn’t think I’d stick around long enough for it to matter.”

Shigaraki frowned. “Well, after that stunt you pulled, I think I have a right to know.”

Dabi sighed. “Why the hell not...” He thought about where to start. “My name is Touya Todoroki. I am the eldest son of pro-hero Endeavor. I was born with an enhanced and evolved version of his quirk. Unfortunately, it was a quirk my body was unable to handle.”

“Pretty easy to tell.” Shigaraki said plainly.  

Dabi narrowed his eyes at him. “Can you let me finish?”

Shigaraki shrugged. Dabi took his silence as a cue to keep going. “Endeavor put all of his focus into training me to be his successor. It wasn’t a brilliant experience, but I didn’t mind. I just wanted to make him proud...like any naïve young boy. When my two siblings came along, they didn’t possess the quirks that my dad wanted so he continued to train me. Then, Shoto came along. And he was born with the perfect quirk my dad was looking for.”

The familiar feeling of rage ignited within Dabi. “I was tossed aside. Suddenly, I wasn’t good enough. He put all his energy into training Shoto. My little brother’s existence shattered all of my dreams.” He chuckled lightly. “He didn’t have it easy. I heard it all. I saw it all. But despite the pain I knew Shoto was going through, somehow, I wanted that to be me again. At least I would have a purpose.”

“You wanted to be abused?” The question had sounded a bit insensitive, but Shigaraki was genuinely confused by Dabi’s statement.  

Dabi chuckled darkly. “I wanted to make my father proud. I grew up believing that my only purpose in life was to be what he wanted me to be.”

“That sucks...” Shigaraki muttered.  

“But then I wasn’t good enough. My entire existence was stolen from me.” He said coldly.  

“So how did you end up...” Shigaraki paused for a moment, looking at Dabi’s scars.  

Dabi sighed and thought for a moment. “I was thirteen...maybe fourteen. It gets harder to remember as time passes. It feels like centuries ago. After my mom was put into the hospital, things changed. They got worse. She was no longer there to defend Shoto when things got out of hand. I hated it all. Everything made me so angry. One night, I decided to push myself beyond my limits. I was desperate. Burning myself when I used my quirk was common but that time it got out of control. After that night, I never looked back. My family believed I was dead.”

“Until now...”

“Yeah.”  

Shigaraki sighed. “So, you joined the league, stuck around saying all of that nonsense about that damn stain, just for revenge?”  

Dabi only shrugged in response.

Shigaraki stood quiet. He was in deep thought for a moment.  

“If I had told you who I was, would you have let me join the league?”

Shigaraki was a bit taken aback by the question. “I didn’t even trust you as your ‘Dabi’ persona so no.”

Dabi said nothing, keeping his eyes on the streets below.  

“But I would now...”  

Dabi turned his gaze to him with confusion.  

“If Toga wants to go on a murder spree freely, that’s fine. If Spinner wants to go around killing ‘fake heroes’ as stain’s successor, I don’t care. If you want revenge on pro-hero Endeavor and that boy, that’s fine too. Even if we had a name change, we’re still the League of Villains, right? So, you don’t have to do it alone. I already said it before. All the league’s ambitions would become a reality. No matter the outcome of this last battle, in the end it will be our victory.”

“Huh...” That’s all Dabi could manage to say. He was speechless. He shook his head and let out a short laugh. “That was a little cheesy.”

Shigaraki glared at him, a slight blush of embarrassment appearing on his pale face. “Y-you get what I mean.”  

Dabi laughed. “The first place I feel like I belong and it’s with a bunch of freaks.”

“Well, you’re a freak yourself, aren’t you?”  

“I guess you’re right.”

Shigaraki hit him lightly over the head. “But don’t pull a stunt like that again.”

Dabi scoffed. “You know so much about me now, but I still don’t know much about you.”

“And you never will.” Shigaraki slowly stood up. “I’m not telling you anything.”

“Aw and we were having such a moment.”

“Good night.” Shigaraki said harshly and walked away.  

Dabi smirked and shook his head. He looked up at the night sky. “Just wait Endeavor. It’s not over yet.” He chuckled darkly.  

He slowly stood up straight, wincing slightly at the pain. Shigaraki’s words echoed in his head.  

“Our victory.”

-fin-