#you are all now caught in the blast radius

[yuurivoice]

Hi Yuuri I just wanted to say I miss Howell. That’s all I hope you have a good day😊

I do too! There's still a lot about him I want to know and figure out. I was able to delve into him a bit more (and get some much needed closure) with some friends. I don't think he's really a character that I want to do various iterations of in different worlds and campaigns, because it's that specific story of his that I love. If it's removed from that world and story, I'd rather have another shot at a new character.

I was able to salvage a couple of relationships out of the rubble from the entire ordeal surrounding TnD, and I've got no beef with anyone who wasn't literal human trash, so Howell's place in my heart is unscathed in terms of being attached to a really shitty time and situation.

Reflecting on those days, that shit was a nightmare scenario. Obviously my own emotional turmoil pales in comparison to the literal criminal and victim in our midst, don't get that twisted because those most directly impacted by one asshole's actions should be the primary concern. It is a hell of a pill to swallow having something that dear to you go up in flames in such a public and grotesque way.

I don't blame anyone who feels any type of way about how it was handled and the aftermath of it. The truth of it all is, one person's really fucked up actions had widespread effects on a lot of people. The radius of that bomb was no joke.

Howell is very dear to me, and those Sundays were genuinely the favorite day of the week for me over that time. The backlash, anger, resentment, and then emptiness of it all really took its toll, as I'm sure it did on everyone caught in the blast zone.

The bad guy got got in the end, and I'm thankful for the folks who made sure that happened.

That year as a whole was really difficult. That wasn't the only heavy thing I had to work through that year. There was a stretch of six months that were probably the worst of my adult life in terms of interpersonal turmoil. The universe really took a bat to my kneecaps.

Saying ALLLLLLLL of that to say, if I had lost my love for Howell, it would have taken a significant toll on me creatively. I would not so freely share the parts of myself it takes to create the stories and characters I do now. I can pretty confidently say that something like Echoes or Shattered would never happen.

I struggled mightily with BitterSweet Chapter 3 for that reason. It was hard to want to carve out pieces of myself to share with the world, and certainly very difficult to work with anyone else out of fear that their bad actions could rob me of my passion even more.

But I learned a lot, and over that time I also think I was able to show my community how serious situations get handled while I'm at the helm. I hate that me and the team have been on the frontlines of a few really serious community PR nightmares, but I do think we've been able to exhibit an ability to treat things with maturity, respect, and direct action.

So Howell means a lot to me. We've been on two journeys, one fictional, and one real...and boy we've gotten our asses kicked more than a few times.

There is a chance, albeit a small one, that there's a DnD story to be told with Howell and some friends, for the world to partake in. Don't know if it'll happen, but the chances aren't 0%...

[znarikia]

Oh hey, Signalis takes place on Ariane's birthday.

[muddyorbsblr]

onyx pt1

See my full list of works here!

Summary: You're stuck in the Avengers Compound because of an injury from your last mission, and you come across an adorable and affectionate little kitten.

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Word Count: 2.3k

Warnings: language (no i'm not sorry, Rogers); talks of explosions and injuries sustained from explosion [let me know if i missed anything!]

Things to be aware of: one-sided crushing (but is it really…?)

An eerie silence served as your only company in the Avengers Compound the last few days, some of your teammates off to finish the HYDRA mission that left you injured while the others took time off to visit their families over the holidays. With the promise to keep their comms on in case they would be needed until the New Year.

Now all that remained in the Compound with you were a few junior agents that drew the ends of the short stick, Val, and Loki.

Sadly your teammate, friend, and occasional drinking buddy Val was out blissfully spreading holiday cheer throughout New York with her girlfriend.

And Loki? Well, the God of Mischief wasn't exactly on chummy terms with you. Didn't even so much as give you a passing glance when you were at mission briefings.

Which was a damn shame because what you would give just to get lost in those stormy ocean eyes.

You made your way to the pantry in the common room to replenish your stash of snacks, towing along a little wagon to help you on the way back. Every step had you feeling every square inch of bruising on the left side of your body that you got from being unlucky enough to be caught in the blast radius of an explosion at the HYDRA base you were trying to infiltrate with Shaun just a few days ago.

Your phone buzzed with a new message. "Speak of the devil," you muttered to yourself, seeing Xu's name on your screen as soon as you pulled up next to the elaborate barista setup, putting a few Lindor truffles in a small bag for your wagon. "Hey FRIDAY?"

"Yes, Agent Y/L/N?" the AI answered immediately.

"Could you make me a white chocolate mocha with peppermint while I raid the latest Costco delivery for uhh…supplies. Yeah, I'll go with that."

"Right away, Agent Y/L/N." The sound of the barista setup whirring to life filled the kitchen area as you checked on Shaun's message.

Thor just mentioned that he'll ask his brother to take a look at your injuries. Maybe get him to kiss it all better. He finished his text with a smirking emoji, along with some hand gestures that painted a less than family friendly picture, making you roll your eyes at the screen.

You recorded a voice memo for him. "You know that he'd need to actually be willing to look at me so that he could see the damage from the blast, right? And last I checked I'm pretty sure he thinks I'm Medusa reincarnated and I'll turn his Asgardian ass to stone."

You went on to the ridiculously stocked pantry to rummage the delivery that came just a few hours ago, trying to find a bag of Jalapeño Cheetos somewhere in the mix, when you heard a tiny meow from somewhere behind you. You looked to the ground to find a black and white munchkin cat looking up at you with wide blue eyes.

"Hi there, baby…" you cooed, surprised the adorable little creature hadn't hissed or scratched at you yet. Cats normally didn't take to you, which was a shame because you often found yourself fighting the urge to pick one up or stroke its head whenever you crossed paths with one during your errand runs. "How'd you get in here?"

The tiny kitten caught you by surprise with what it did next, walking up to your feet and proceeding to rub its cheek against your ankle, a little purr emanating from its small fluffy body. You decided to risk the hissing and scratching and bent down to pick it up, your heart melting once he placed his paws on your cheek and proceeded to nuzzle your face with his nose.

"Aren't you a complete darling." He settled into your arm as you carried him out of the pantry, a little whine escaping him when you placed him down on the counter. He stood on his hind legs and made grabby hands towards you, blue eyes wide and pleading for you to pick him back up. "Just a second, sweet baby, I'm just getting you something to drink."

You took out a tiny sauce dish and poured some cream into it, pushing it toward the kitten that responded with a slow blink and a meow before licking away at the rich liquid.

"I'm sure your owner's gonna crucify me for giving you that but I can't help spoiling little fur babies especially when they're as adorable as you are." You took a sip of the coffee FRIDAY had finished making before shouting out a question for her. "Hey FRIDAY, you have any clue who this little bub belongs to?"

It took a second for her to answer. "Negative, Agent Y/L/N. There is currently no other agent on the premises looking for their pet. I also see no collar on them and from a preliminary scan they do not seem to have a microchip on them."

Those words stopped the kitten from drinking to look up toward the ceiling and hiss at the source of the voice. He only relaxed once you started stroking his fur again, going back to drinking and letting out a few purrs along the way. "No owner, huh? Does that mean I can invoke Finders Keepers then?"

"It appears so, Agent Y/L/N. What would be your new companion's name?"

The kitten looked up at you, as if expecting your answer. You wondered briefly if he could actually understand what it was that you and FRIDAY were talking about. "How about Onyx? I know I know it's absolute garbage for originality to name a black cat after a black gemstone but--"

His eyes widened before he climbed up your arm, only stopping once he'd reached your shoulder to nuzzle at your neck again. "It seems he likes the name, Agent Y/L/N."

"Then it's settled." You placed a soft kiss on top of his head. "Hello there, Onyx."

You brought your new kitten back to your apartment, setting him down on your bed while you tried to take off your sweatshirt as gently as you could manage.

"Ah, fuck it," you hissed as you felt the bruising around your ribs, letting out a pained sound when you opted to whip the garment over your head as fast as you could instead. Your reflection revealed that the bruising on the left side of your torso was quickly becoming a frightening deep purple.

Onyx meowed from your bed, again standing on his back legs and making grabby hands at you, eyes wide with evident pain.

"What's wrong, little baby?" He placed his paws gently on your side when you made your way to him, pressing his nose to the skin near where your bruising began. "Oh don't you worry your pretty little head about those, sweetie. They'll heal…eventually."

He kept on pressing his face to the area, your heart melting for the tiny kitten even more realizing that he was pressing kisses to your wounds.

"You really are such a precious little bub, aren't you?" You picked your new kitten up, placing him on the armchair in your reading nook before setting an alarm for dinner in a few hours and settling into your bed. "Get some sleep, sweet baby Onyx. I'll see you in a few hours."

Your eyes had only closed for a few seconds before you heard another tiny meow followed by a soft thud, immediately making you sit up on the bed looking for the kitten. He'd already made his way to your bedside, standing on his back legs and reaching up trying to climb up the sheets.

"Alrighty then," you mumbled, picking him up and placing him on the pillow beside yours. You rolled over to lay on your right side to remove any pressure to your injuries the best you could, hovering your finger near Onyx's nose once you'd settled in. He leaned up and pressed his nose to your finger, paws kneading on his pillow. "Boop," you giggled. "Sweet dreams, baby."

Just as you'd closed your eyes to try catching an hour or two of rest before you had to eat again and take those pain meds that Banner prescribed you, your phone began to blare Immigrant Song way too loudly by your nightstand. There were only two contacts you gave that ringtone to and one of them was currently out with her girlfriend.

"Talk to me, Thunder," you muttered, groaning when your stretch to reach for your phone made your bruising smart a bit. "You all good over there?"

"Absolutely grand, Lady Y/N," the blond god's voice boomed from the other end. "I was just wondering if you could check on my brother, he refuses to answer his phone yet again."

"That's gonna be a hard pass from me, buddy. I've already been cut and bruised, I'm not too keen to add stabbed to that list. He's probably just practicing spells. Or out on a date." You winced at that last part, an irrational part of you flaring up with unwarranted jealousy at the thought of Loki out with just about anyone. "Just--I don't know, check up on him yourself when you get back. You can take a stab better than me anyways."

Thor sighed loudly, the low rumbling making Onyx step back from his pillow and start hissing at the phone. You stroked the top of his head to calm him down. "Very well then, Lady Y/N. Rest well. We're scheduled to return after nightfall."

"I'll have pizza here waiting for you guys. Bring your own mead." You clicked off and tried to get some sleep, having FRIDAY place an order for pizzas and wings for when the team gets back. Your new kitten padded his way over to you, resting his head on your outstretched arm and letting out a soft purr.

The sound of the Quinjet coming back roused you from your nap, along with the feel of little paws on your arm and Onyx nuzzling your cheek.

"Looks like everyone's home," you mumbled, pressing a few kisses to the kitten's head before making your way out of bed. "Come on, little baby. Time to meet the team."

With a whole lot of discomfort and groaning, you slipped your sweatshirt back on before presenting your hand to Onyx and patting your shoulder, prompting the kitten to climb up your arm and perch himself on the spot, nuzzling his face behind your ear.

The team had already arrived and filled the common area when you made your way there, some of them helping themselves to the pizza. Barnes and Wilson walked in with coolers, probably filled with chilled bottles of beer inside.

"Hey, there she is!" Shaun exclaimed, pulling out a bottle of Pepsi before making his way over to you and pulling you into an embrace. "How's the healing go--Whoa there." He took a step back as Onyx hissed in his direction. "Where'd you come from, little guy?"

You shh'd the kitten, pressing kisses to his little cheek to calm him down. "It's okay, baby, Shaun is a friend. One of the good guys." You turned back to your mission partner. "Shaun, this is Onyx."

"Always thought you were a dog person, Babes," Natasha spoke up before taking your arm and walking you to the food. "We leave for one day and you become a cat lady. Where'd you even find the time to go to a shelter and get baby blue eyes over here?"

"I didn't, actually," you answered the master assassin. "I just went to the pantry and poof there he was, meowing at my feet. Like the cat distribution system mailed him to me by magic or something." He nuzzled your cheek again before starting to knead at your face.

"And he doesn't belong to anyone? You're sure?" Shaun spoke up, backing up immediately when he tried to pet your new kitten and getting hissed at. "Easy, kitty. I'm a friend, I'm not gonna hurt you." The martial artist turned back to you. "He wasn't collared? Or chipped?"

"Nope. FRIDAY scanned him and everything."

"You wanna think about getting him chipped?"

Onyx hissed again at the question before swishing his tail around to curtain your hair around him, his little body shaking on your shoulder. As if he was silently pleading for you to not take him out to have him chipped.

"Don't you worry, baby. I won't get you chipped, I wouldn't hurt you like that," you cooed, letting out a little giggle as he placed his paws on your cheeks and nuzzled your nose, giving the tip tiny licks. You were so focused on your cat's affections that the bellowing of Thor looking for his brother was a distant muffled noise in the background.

Until he got to where you were standing and his booming voice was impossible to ignore. "What an adorable little beast you have, with you, Lady Y/N." Onyx buried himself in the crook of your neck, shaking at the sound of Thor's voice.

"It's alright, Onyx. It's just Thunder, he may be all big and menacing on the outside but he's just a fluff ball on the inside. Come on, go say hi."

The blond Asgardian approached you, examining your new pet carefully before a knowing grin graced his bearded face. "Hello, Brother."

A chill went down your spine at his words. "What the fuck d'you just say, Blondie?"

He motioned toward the kitten on your shoulder. "This is the explanation for his lack of replies on his phone. His absence from his quarters. Lady Y/N, the little beast hiding himself in your hair…is my brother. That is Loki."

In your stupor, the only words you could manage to say were, "Bitch what?!"

A/N: Merry Christmas/Happy Holidays to the members of SAS, beloved besties, and fellow whores! I've had this idea doing a slow lurky crawl in the microwave that is my writing noggin for the last few months, and I'm so excited that I finally get to share it with y'all! Part 2 is coming in a few days, and then it's a coin toss on whether I'll be trying to end the year with crossing off some things on my writing todo list, or crossing off some titles from my Tumblr TBR 😳👀

everything taglist: @simplyholl @loopsisloops @imalovernotahater @coldnique @loz-3 @huntress-artemiss @salempoe @vickie5446 @athalialaufeyson @lokiprompts @kats72 @kikster606 @asgards-princess-of-mischief @lokixryss @thomase1 @mischief2sarawr @peaches1958 @lovingchoices14 @lunarnights95 @goblingirlsarah @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @creationsbyme @maple-seed @mjsthrillernp @ladyofthestayingpower @mygfloki @sititran @glitterylokislut @ozymdias @fictive-sl0th  @lokidbadguy @mochie85 @silverfire475 @joyful-enchantress @elizabethmidnight2017 @holdmytesseract @smolvenger @gigglingtiggerv2 @lokidokieokie @lunarnights95 @superficialdomina @anukulee @kmc1989 @november-rayne @goddessofwonderland @buttercupcookies-blog @peaky-marvel @lokiified @tom-hlover

[shadowdarlings]

Blood Will Rain

Azriel x Reader

Synopsis : During the war with Hybern when all seems lost a surprising new/old face makes an appearance to turn the tide in Prythian’s favor. None other than Rhysand’s long lost sister who was believed to be dead. This revelation is shocking for the entire IC but none more than Azriel himself.

Pairings : AzrielxReader , ReaderxInnerCircle!Platonic , ReaderxRhysand!Siblings

A/N: part one? this is my very first fic EVER so let me know what you guys think! not very canon but i can’t get it out of my head.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧ ✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧ ✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

Blood was everywhere. It soaked the muddy ground of the battlefield and clung to the air like a sickness. Azriel felt as though every heavy breath he heaved in was coating his throat in the thickness of blood. He couldn’t keep track of how many of Hybern’s soldiers he had cut down with his siphons and blade, but it didn’t matter. They were losing, and he knew it. Yet he never faltered as he continued his brutal slaughter of any enemy he could set eyes on. Azriel caught a glimpse of his brother Cassian not 30 feet away slicing and brutalizing with the same vigor as himself. It still didn’t matter, they were losing. Sweat, mud, and filth coated his entire being. The battle had been raging on for hours, yet how many he did not know. The sounds of screaming, bone crunching, and organs being cut from their rightful place had long since drowned in his ears. All he could hear now was a dull buzzing and the occasional order from Rhysand in his mind’s eye. Exhaustion had not yet set in as adrenaline fueled him through most of the battle, but he could tell that Prythian’s forces were starting to slow down. He was not the only one that could knew they were losing. They had exhausted every resource, every viable power play had been made and they held no more cards in their hands. All that was left to do was fight until they couldn’t anymore, or die trying. He didn’t mind the thought as it crossed and then floated away. He would gladly give his life in the name of freedom and peace for humans and fae. The horrified faces of his comrades haunted him, but he knew they felt the same. So the battle would rage on until their very last breath.

In the distance a high pitched shrieking noise shook the buzzing from his ears. It sounded like a scream, but not quite. Azriel cut down the solider in front of him before leaping into the sky to get a better view. The noise was not coming from the distance, it was coming from the sky… and fast. Pummeling straight towards the center of Hybern’s forces a single winged creature plunged into the slick mud and hit with an impact that shook the ground for miles around. The blast radius flung the surrounding soldiers into the air and backwards, and then the creature stood. Azriel’s heart skipped a beat at the sight, yet he was too far away to identify this new player. It raised its hands and with it a large section of Hybern with it. The screaming coming from the floating bodies was a horrific symphony, and then… silent. All at once at least 30 soldiers turned from solid to liquid. Their insides and outsides turned to a red mist that rained down in a thick syrup. Again the creature raised its arms and brought down a storm of blood upon the battlefield. Five more times this happened, all within a span of a minute. Hybern’s legion was being turned into liquid dust at a rate that could give Prythian the upper hand.

Azriel tore his eyes from the creature and scanned the field for his family. His gaze landed on Rhysand who appeared frozen, eyes locked onto the carnage the winged creature was unleashing onto their enemy. They needed to regroup. Azriel soared with vigor towards Rhys and landed directly in front of him, yet his High Lord did not acknowledge him. “Rhysand!” he shouted over the screams and clashing of steel. Rhysand had paled and seemed as if he was going to be sick. Azriel gripped him by the shoulders and shook him yelling his name once more. Finally Rhys looked in his direction, his eyes glassy with tears that threatened to spill over. “It’s her,” he said, “It can’t be..” his midnight voice cracked. Although every cell in Azriel’s body screamed at him to ask who Rhys was talking about he knew that strategy must come before curiosity. Seconds later, Cassian landed with wild eyes and a heaving chest. “I don’t know what in the ever living fuck is going on, but we need to take advantage of this,” he said with ragged breaths. Azriel turned towards his other brother and the two of them began reconstructing a battle strategy that would surely beat Hybern down so they could subdue the King and lay this conflict to rest. Rhysand seemed disengaged but gave his approval nonetheless. So, with the last drops of their immortal energy, they launched a final attack bringing their enemy to bended knee.

It was Nesta that cleaved the King’s head from his shoulders, and the High Lords of Prythian that brought back Azriel’s brother from the grasps of death. Amidst the chaos of it all Azriel felt a lingering pull in his chest and was reminded of the creature that rained down on Hybern. Then almost as if on cue a long forgotten but familiar scent overwhelmed his senses. Rhysand paled once more and Azriel’s head snapped to look behind him. The sight he took in was utterly and entirely unbelievable. Instantly he fell to his knees before you. Rhys almost toppled over himself. You were drenched in blood, some of it already drying and crusting on your skin. The entire Inner Circle beheld you as if the could not register what they were seeing. For it was not a creature that came to their rescue, it was you.

“Sister,” Rhysand choked out, “wh- how? what is this?” Then with a flash of speed he had you pinned to a nearby tree, his claws at your throat and his teeth flaring in a snarl. “What is this,” he now demanded, thinking this was some final cruel joke meant to completely break him. Azriel stood just as fast, placing a warning hand on his brother’s shoulder. Cassian and Mor wore faces of complete shock. You summoned any air you could through the grip of your brother’s talons, “It’s me,” you choked out. You met his violet eyes with a set of your own and willed him to understand that it was truly you he was squeezing the life out of. It was Azriel that spoke next. “Rhys,” he said in a dangerously careful tone, “you’re hurting her.” He sincerely doubted the validity of that statement based upon what he had seen just an hour ago on the battlefield but he thought it might shake his brother from doing anything rash. Rhys slowly loosened his grip on your neck and took a stumbling step back.

“I’ll explain everything,” you said, “I promise.” Azriel took only a slight step behind you, his hand resting on truth teller’s hilt. He gestured for you to sit on the small boulder to your right. You followed his silent instruction, looking at him briefly and noticed something in those hazel eyes that you could not yet identify. Sucking in a deep breath, you launched into the story of your whereabouts for the last 500 years. You explained that when Tamlin and his father came to slaughter yourself and your mother there was a last minute alteration to their plan. They had decided instead to detain you and gift you to the King of Hybern as a gesture of good faith in their alliance. Ever since then you had been the King’s personal pet. He had done countless cruel things throughout the years, torturing and experimenting on you. When the King came into possession of the cauldron he was curious not only what it could do to humans, but High Fae as well. You were his first and only test subject as the cauldron deemed fit to gift you with extraordinary power. Power that rivaled Ameren before she had turned into fae herself. He found that it was growing increasingly difficult to keep you under lock and chain, and when the time for war came you knew it was your chance for freedom. The castle had been lightly guarded as most of Hybern’s soldiers had been called to action and your escape had been carefully calculated for centuries. The moment you tasted fresh air again you soared for your long lost family. Pent up rage from 500 years of captivity along with the surge of power gifted from the cauldron is what you unleashed upon Hybern’s massive legion, ultimately turning the tide of the war.

There was a weighted silence after you finished your story. Everyone’s eyes were pasted on you in a horrified realization. 500 years. You had been trapped for 500 years. The guilt of not knowing, not saving you, rested heavily upon each member of the Inner Circle. The crushing quiet was killing you, but it was interrupted by a deathly grumble from behind you. “You saved us,” Azriel spoke, “You saved us when we did not save you. After all this time.” You pivoted your torso to look up at the shadowsinger. His eyes were clouded with the same guilt written on the rest of the faces in front of you.

“Always,” you stated plainly.

[itsscromp]

Unexpected friendship

Ok so, so it's time to flex my literacy muscles again and branch out to other COD characters. Today it is Alex Keller's turn, Originally this was conceived as a Simon idea, but it shifted course as I feel Alex would be a sweeter touch. Also, shout out to bestie @callofdudes for helping pre-conceive the idea. Warning: Slight angst but ends in fluff. Word Count:1.2K

You didn't know how it happened, all you knew was that you were tasked with a mission to defuse an explosive when you found it, But as you began to defuse it, everything soon went blank. All you could remember was that you were in throbbing pain.

You were in a coma for about 2 days, Waking up to the bright lights and beeping sounds of the monitor next to you, just great. You tried to prop yourself up until a pair of arms gently sat you back down.

"Easy sergeant, just relax" Price said to you, feeling a slight relief when he was their.

"What... What happened..." You groaned as he handed you a cup of water to soothe your dry throat.

"You were caught in a blast radius when you tried to defuse the bomb, placed in a coma soon after." He took a deep breath, you could see that he was biting his tongue on something important.

"Price ?? What happened..." You grew increasingly concerned.

"Y/n... there's no easy way to say this, but... they did everything they could..."

He gently pulled down the blankets to reveal to your horror... Your right leg was amputated.

During the explosion, the blast radius practically shattered the bones in your right leg almost beyond repair, When you were brought back into medical, the doctors tried to do everything to avoid an amputation. But they knew the multiple surgeries that would follow, they knew you couldn't do that. So it was in your best interest that they went ahead with the amputation.

"Price... where's my leg..."

"Y/n, I know this is a lot to take in right now but you need to calm down.."

"Where's my fucking leg !!?" You tried to get up, but Price gently as he could, held you down. "Get off !!" You cried as the news of this overwhelmed you.

"Y/n... It's ok... It's gonna be ok" Price tried to hold his own tears back, seeing you like this.

You were a vegetable now, your military career was officially over because of this. You would be forced to leave, you couldn't do it, you didn't want to leave Price, Simon, Johnny and Gaz. It slumped you into a deep depression. They could see it during the months of rehabilitation, You lacked the same bubbly energy that you had. Feeling unmotivated to simply get out of bed. But what really hit you hard was when the doctor then came into your room to take some measurements of your thigh.

"What are you doing ??" You said bluntly.

"I'm just taking measurements of your thigh so we can fit you with a new prosthetic le..."

"No, No prosthetics..." You immediately said before he could even finish the sentence.

"Sergeant, you'll be able to walk again" He tried to convince you, softly smiling.

"No, I have the choice. If I don't want a leg, I say I don't want a leg !!!" You tried not to yell at him, but couldn't help but raise your voice at the frustration of it all.

Price could see you fall down in the dumps faster than you could, he knew neither of the others could help you with this sort of situation... But maybe someone outside the team could.

One day and a couple calls later, Price knocked on your door and gently entered inside. "Hey, kiddo... How are you feeling ??" He went over and gently took your hand.

"They measured my thigh... I don't want a leg, or a wheelchair or anything" You were about to cry again.

"Shhh shhhh, It's ok" He gently kissed your temple as he gently rocked you.

Once you calmed down, he spoke up again. "Y/n, I have someone I want you to meet... Is that ok ??"

It took a little bit but eventually, you nodded, slowly he let you go and then went to the door, inviting the mystery person in, You looked over and saw a man with tattoos, a moustache and a prosthetic leg.

"Hey, pal... my name is Alex, the cap has told me all about you y/n" He gently smiled, kneeling by your side.

"Hey..." You didn't even look at him when he came over to you.

He could see how much this whole situation has affected you, the doubt, the insecurities and the fear. He knew it all to well.

"Y/n... I get it... I really do..." He looked at you sincerely.

You sat there for a bit until you began to look at him, you saw kind eyes and a genuine smile. He was telling the truth.

"I felt everything that you are feeling right now, I thought that I was going to lose my job because of it, I thought I wouldn't be able to live my life that way I would. But that..." He gently took your hand and gently squeezed it. "That wasn't true, I am still thriving in my own life and job just like I was before, this... this is just a slight hurdle, I know you can jump over it." He smiled at you.

Price who was standing nearby saw the familiar glint in your eyes shine again for a bit.

"And plus" He lifted his pant leg up slightly and showed off his prosthetic, which had a camo colour. "You'll be able to customise it to many different colours" He smiled proudly.

Your smile started to grow a little. "Pretty cool"

"Yeah, it is actually. Y/n, I promise that this is only temporary, what your feeling. You still have so much purpose with the captain and your team. Ok ??" He squeezed your hand gently.

Alex was right, this was only temporary. What you were feeling is temporary, true it will be hard and all, but you will be back onto your feet.

"And if you want to, I'll be there for you every step of the way." He offered.

"Ok..."

So after that, you began your rehabilitation process. It was long, hard and painful. but like he promised, Alex was there with you for every step of it all, when you began to tumble, he helped pick you up. When it felt impossible, He'd help remind you. All the way through it.

8.5 Months later

You were back out onto the field, now fixed with your prosthetic leg. You shined so hard again, You were happy again. Having this leg didn't stop you at all. Alex then called you as soon as he heard the news you got the leg.

"Y/n, hey I heard you got your leg ??" You could hear him smile through the phone.

"I did, It was a little getting used to but that's more of putting no weight on it for too long" You shrugged as you began to put your leg back on.

"Yeah, that happened to me the first time, But it gets easier. I'm really proud of you pal, I really am. You showed immense courage throughout and never gave up. You should be too y/n."

"I am Alex... I couldn't have done this without you" You felt happy tears brim in your eyes as you said that.

You made an amazing friend, who was able to help you and guide you since day one, But one who also got what you were feeling. You would never be truly alone.

A/N: If this proves to be popular, I'll consider opening up to Alex requests.

Taglist: @callofdudes @fun-k-board

[kastlequill]

i/v. ‘til my pulse loses time: pulsus bisferiens

pairing: kyle gaz garrick x f!reader word count: 1.3k synopsis: the first time you save gaz tags: whumptober, gunshot wounds, blood and injury, wound tending, hurt/comfort, medic!reader, 4+1, no y/n warnings: none ao3: read here next →

I.

Tuesdays were unremarkable. They couldn’t compare to the infamous Mondays or halfway-mark Wednesdays, to anticipatory Thursdays or the thank-God-it’s Fridays, least of all to the relaxing Saturdays and Church-going Sundays.

The new orders you received last Tuesday, however, were anything but plain. There was nothing ordinary about getting shipped out to a classified location to provide aid to the soldiers injured during their classified missions to eliminate classified targets.

You knew next to nothing about your current assignment. High command had informed you that you’d be working as the lead on-site medic, tending to the wounded and assisting in their recovery to the best of your abilities. That was all your superiors had felt the need to tell you.

The base of operation was fairly sizable, well stocked, and even had a couple other medical personnel around to help too, so you couldn’t really complain. You’d primarily be dealing with soldiers who were designated as special operators, and, in your experience, those types made absolute dogshit patients. Only a single week had passed, yet you could already tell that some of the lot were more injury-prone than others.

A specific British SAS sergeant came to mind.

Your first time meeting him had been relatively benign; he’d entered the mess hall as you exited. Although speedily heading in different directions, he had nonetheless offered a casual salute, and you had returned his gesture with a nod of your own. Simple, polite. No fuss.

The exact opposite of how he arrived to you today, the second Tuesday of the month.

Two towering men flanked him on either side as they shouldered their half-conscious comrade into your medbay. With them came chaos. Thick English accents yelling for a medic, combat boots storming toward you, dragging in a trail of blood. They brought war to your feet and Death to your door.

Rushing over to them, you quickly scanned the sergeant’s body for damage. Preliminary assessments yielded speculative results at best: a tourniquet around his thigh told of prior heavy bleeding, and the sway of his head meant he wasn’t fully capable of supporting its weight. But nothing was certain. 

“What am I dealing with here? Concussion, gunshot wound, broken bones—?”

“—got caught in the blast radius,” interrupted a gruff voice belonging to the masked lieutenant. “Knocked ‘im back a few meters. No major visible injuries, ‘cept a bullet to the leg.” 

You swore. “Is it still inside?” 

Exit wounds typically offered a better prognosis; the energy driving forth a gunshot needed somewhere to go, and, preferably, that somewhere was far from surrounding organs or internal systems. If the piece of metal remained lodged inside of him, then you would have to remove it.

He answered with a single definitive nod. Unsurprising; of course nothing in war ever turned out for the better.

“Put him on my table. Carefully.” 

The two soldiers hauled their brother-in-arms up onto the examination table that had seen more action within a week than most ever did. Trauma to the head required immediate attention; the brain was a delicate organ, and if the explosion had badly jostled it against the walls of his skull, there could be severe damage.

Unwilling to waste a second longer, you gently parted the now-supine man’s eyelids with your fingertips to get a look at his pupils. In the midst of an unfocused sea of brown, one pupil was more dilated than the other—concussed, then. At the intensity of the blue overhead light, he reflexively squinted and shut his eyes once more.

That wouldn’t do. “Sergeant, I need you to open those eyes again, okay? Think you can track this flashlight for me?”

Being as sensitive to brightness as he was currently, it took some effort for him to pry his eyes open. They valiantly fought the urge to close whilst following the stick-end of your black flashlight from left to right, right to left. There was some unsteady shakiness to their movement, but they still appeared properly calibrated.

“You’re doing great,” you encouraged, holding his gaze as you pocketed the light. The next course of action was to check his processing of visual information. “How many fingers am I holding up?”

He blinked slowly, an inquisitive frown contorting his features. Several confusion-riddled seconds elapsed until the man decided to simply feel what he could not see. Grasping your hand in his own, he grazed your knuckles with a calloused thumb, explored the lengths of your raised fingers, puzzled out how they were configured into the shape of a peace sign. Recognition sparked in his eyes.

“Two.”

An endeared smile graced your lips. The only predictable constant in this profession was its unpredictability. None of your previous patients had done that before.

“Try again.” You lightly pulled your hand free and watched his own fall back to rest on his chest, physically unable to sustain the lifted position. Unfurling your ring finger to join your index and middle, three total fingers hovered in front of his face, just out of reach. “How many do you see now?”

Without using his sense of touch to determine the correct number, all the sergeant could do was sigh and reply honestly. “Six.”

“Y’can’t be serious, Gaz. The limit’s five,” his mohawked companion corrected, a hint of incredulity and amusement slipping into his tone.

“Quit taking the piss, we’ve got ten of ‘em.” The words were slurred, but intelligible. As he spoke, his brows began to furrow, the man suddenly unsure of himself. He looked at the captain, whose belated entrance managed to diffuse some of the anxiety present in the room. “Right, sir?”

The room erupted with noise as the three other soldiers simultaneously began to talk over each other. You were able to catch the occasional bloody hell and heard yes, Gaz, that’s right and even chuckled a bit at no need to worry, you still ‘ave all ten of the little bastards.

Military folk had a specific way of coping with the consequences of war, and you didn’t think you would ever quite understand it from your side of the line. But if it worked, then it worked. What mattered was the patient’s ability to persist in spite of the world; the exact methods used to do so weren’t up for scrutiny, not by you or anyone else.

Donning a clean pair of surgical gloves, you exchanged glances with the technician and nurse on duty. “Get him a CT scan. Let’s make sure his brain’s in one piece, then we can deal with the bullet. I’ll prep the OR.”

When you made to leave, a tug on your wrist stopped you in your tracks. A quick turn of your head revealed the image of his loose yet insistent grip around you once again, unwilling to let go of what had seemingly become his sole anchorage to the land of the living.

“Don’t worry,” you said softly, squeezing his hand in yours. This—comforting the wounded—was as much a part of the healing process as medicine itself. Even the toughest of soldiers reverted to a childlike state of vulnerability after too close a brush with death. “Everything’s going to be just fine.”

The tension in his features relaxed as did his hold on you, and he lowered himself to lay flat on the table’s surface before being wheeled away by the technician. As you watched his form disappear beyond the threshold of a plastic curtain, you were struck with a near-overwhelming sense of foreboding.

Though you hoped this Gaz wouldn’t soon return with an irremediable injury, optimism had never been your strong suit.

tbc.

[writingpiecesak]

Training with Bakugou hasn’t always been easy. To start off, he never holds back. He believes in fair fights no matter who he’s battling. He takes in seriously as if he is for real fighting some street criminal. It’s one of the reasons why you respected him so much, and thus leading you to ask him one day,

“Can we train together?”

For sure, this threw him off. A lowly extra asking for training time with the all mighty explosion murder god, Katsuki Bakugou, himself? He thought it was some stupid joke so he laughed. However your relentless pestering, seeing him everyday after class with the same question wore him down and he gave in, for the fun of it.

Never did he thought he would meet someone who threw the first punch. Sure enough it caught him off guard but with his skills he dodge it last split second. He saw that determined look in your eyes, and he grinned.

This is gonna be fun, he thought.

The first session was everything you’d expect, you got your ass, respectfully, whopped. Of course you knew Bakugou was stronger and his quirk is both great for close up and distant attacks. Your quirk, sonic boom, was more of a distance advantage.

It packed heavy punch to any in the 10 mile radius, so it was safe to say anyone five feet close, would have partial deafness for about a week. However, you’ve been working on using lesser range for short distance. Your mentor, Present Mic, goes all out for his quirk but helps you out on moving your sound to small groups and spaces.

If any classmate saw to their naked eye, it’s obvious Katsuki has the upper hand. But they also know not to diminish your combat moves.

“Damn it, where are you hiding extra!”

Cut to a month later and fourteen training sessions later, Bakugou struggles to find you on this ground. Ground 1A helps you a lot more, granted more distance and places to surprise attack yet you weren’t going to hide like a coward anymore.

You take in a deep breath and held your hand into a fist making a small hole for the sound to travel. You aimed towards Bakugou’s direction from behind, and then you scream.

He clutches his ears but the direct line shot blasts him into a tumble, of course he gained balance soon enough and started holding his ground. You rushed up to take this opportunity for a more close combat, you swung your leg to his side an unknown weak spot. He aimed his gauntlet and started sharp shooting his explosions. Your body was thrown back hitting a wall, yet you were still up.

“Quirks?” You asked.

“No. I wanna see how much you’ve learned.” He answered, unlocking his gauntlets and letting them fall to the ground. This met business.

You both had your hands up in balled up fist, no quirks meant this is now a hand to hand combat. Surely to see how much you’ve progressed but now’s not the time to be nervous.

A first round house kick was thrown by you, blocked by Katsuki as he jabbed your stomach, the open area. You threw your jab at his cheek, neither of you were pulling punches. You knew Katsuki wouldn’t fight with you if you did, so no matter how much it hurt, you wanted to earn his respect.

Jab after jab, kick after a heavy ass knee strike from you, Bakugou took note of this you using your legs a lot in a fight. Finally in a brief moment of pain, Katsuki took this opportunity to grab your legs and slam your back to the ground. The impact brought out a grunt of pain. But Katsuki stayed above you, both of yous catching your breathes and letting his sweat drip onto you.

“You’ve…improved.” He said in between breathes.

“I….had…to.” You respond.

“I’m…..fuck….impressed.”

“Good.”

Maybe it’s because your back just got slammed into hard concrete and your winded but, Katsuki out of breath from fighting you and dripping sweat hovering over you? This was a sight to see.

For a moment, you saw Katsuki’s eyes dipped to your lips and then back to your face. Subconsciously, you did the exact same thing and hoped he didn’t realize. His eyes darted away and he removed himself to just sit up besides you. You brought yourself and felt the awkwardness creep in.

“Wanna’ get some food?”

You smiled, “yeah, I’m pretty hungry. Where?”

Katsuki shrugged his shoulders, “My dorm? I’ll make some spicy ramen, with poached egg.”

The blush swept across your cheeks as you smiled to the ground. This feels like a step towards friendship after being training buddies. Of course, this is new territory for both of you nevertheless, you looked to him and smiled and said yes.

[blazinghotfoggynights]

Can I get my 911 with a double side of drama and a pitcher of messiness?

I love it when fictional characters are being scandalous or whumped. It's okay to have no morals or limits in fiction.

Spice up the entertainment. Make it hurt so good! Bring the mess!

There. I said it.

That was liberating. Anywho.

In one of my perfect 'verses, the remainder of season 7 would be Eddie getting fully involved with Shannon 2.0, who has no idea he is with Marisol, Eddie being caught in bed with his side piece by Marisol, who tells the whole 118 Eddie is a cheating scumbag, and then a reveal that the woman doesn't even look like Shannon.

The season would end with some type of major emotional trauma pushing Eddie and Buck both over the edge. I need Eddie Diaz to be in a mental breakdown. Not a minor one, I mean a life-altering, mind-shattering, reality-altering breakdown.

Seeing Eddie suffering triggers something in Buck and it sets him on a path filled with confusion, because he doesn't understand why he is hurting so much watching Eddie suffer.

Season 8 could follow Eddie through his mental health, and possible physical health, journey, Buck through the difficulties of balancing being there for the Diazes with the demands of work and his boyfriend, and how the whole 118 rallies to support one of their own while thoroughly calling him out for his actions.

I want to see fighting the truth, slowly rising from denial, jealousy, resentment, anguish. Give it to me! You could have Eddie trying to ignore something he has known most of his life, Buck unsure of where to focus his attention, Tommy demanding Buck be more present and if that means cutting down on his time with Eddie and Christopher, so be it.

Just those three things would be fuel for a whole season of five alarm fire! There could be opportunities for numerous confrontations and conversations between characters who have historically had little to no interaction. There could be fighting, breakups, makeups, bad choices, regrets, etc.

Then, at the end, there is a final showdown. That could be huge and inclusive of all the main characters and many of the recurring. There could be secrets revealed, ugly crying with lots of loud sobs and snot, ultimatums, begging, and so much more.

Realistically, if the show got a season 9, the arcs could be stretched into that season.

I am a Buddie endgame girl; however, I'd love to see Eddie and Buck explore their true selves independently of each other initially. I'd like to see the BuckTommy relationship evolution as more than a stepping stone. I just hope for, and prefer, Buddie endgame.

I am saying this as a staunch Buddie girl over the past six years: If Buddie happens, it should not happen now. Eddie Diaz is too messed up right now to be with anyone. His actions are going to cause trouble and whoever is in the blast radius when his BS blows up will get burned.

Say it with me:

Characters can have other relationships then eventually get together. BuckTommy and Buddie can coexist, PEACEFULLY, within the same fictional show. Wank makes fandom sad.

(I felt I should add that after completing this post, it somehow turned into the outline for a new fic. Can very long sighs cause harm to your lungs, because right now...)

[aldbooks]

A little Gwynriel drabble inspired by a scene from Rosaline (2022).

---

"This is your fault," Azriel hissed as they ran through the labyrinth of alleyways searching for a place to hide.

"My fault?" Gwyn hissed back. "You were the one who said the coast was clear!"

"It was- until you knocked over a stack of empty barrels and alerted every guard in a 5 block radius."

The sound of pounding footsteps and shouting were all around them and Gwyn was quite sure they were only winding deeper into the city where they would surely be trapped. Heart pounding, she eyed Azriel suspiciously, wondering why he didn't just winnow them out.

"Here," he said, grabbing her arm and tugging her towards a doorway as the steps got even closer. At least three guards, by the sound of it, about a block away and closing. She followed without protest.

As the door shut behind them, they were engulfed in darkness that blinded even her keen senses. Keeping her hand on Azriel as they carefully crept forward, listening to the sound of the guards in the street, she became aware of a jumble of mixed scents in the air. "Are you sure this building is safe?" she breathed.

"Trust me," Azriel replied quietly.

Scenting the air again, Gwyn instinctively called forth a small faelight, illuminating the room. They both froze in their tracks. Light held out in front of her, Gwyn stared dumbly around the room full of sleeping males. A few of which were waking, roused either by her light or the shouts outside.

Fuck. The barracks. They'd picked the bloody barracks to hide in.

With a resigned sigh, Azriel pulled his sword from his back. "Take Truthteller," he told her, as he squared up with the males who were now alert and preparing to charge them both.

"Already got it," she said, pulling the blade from where she'd stuffed it in the back of her waistband several minutes ago.

She'd come unarmed on this mission as it was meant to be purely recon. You won't need a weapon, Azriel had said. And if we do need protection, I'll have plenty of weapons... She'd already stolen the dagger from him three times and he'd made her give it back- the first two times.

Rolling his eyes in exasperation, Azriel lunged forward to meet the first opponent. Gwyn readied herself to wade in, but instead found herself watching in awe as Azriel moved seamlessly through each guard that engaged him, sometimes several at a time, with little effort. It made her feel a little warm under the collar.

"A little help would be appreciated," he grunted when he saw her gawking.

"Why, you're doing great?"

With an irritated sound, he shoved one opponent off of him and turned towards another. As the male stumbled in her direction, Gwyn punched him neatly in the jaw, using his momentum to her advantage. He stumbled back in the other direction just as Azriel finished the last of the male's comrades and finished him off with another swift jab to the temple.

Azriel gave Gwyn an exasperated look. "Thanks for the assistance," he muttered dryly.

She grinned back. "Happy to help." He gave her a reluctant smile before bidding her to follow him. After a few moments, and thankfully no more encounters with guards, sleeping or otherwise, they found the stables.

"Why didn't we just winnow?" she asked in confusion as she watched him hastily saddle a horse.

"Wards around the city," he said, fastening the last strap. Before she could say a word, Azriel tossed her into the saddle before climbing up behind her, his wings tucked carefully behind him. Wheeling the horse around, he blasted the doors open with his siphons and they shot off into the city.

The animal seemed to know instinctively how to get them out of this maze, so Gwyn leaned back into Azriel's chest and clutched the arm around her waist. Arrows thudded and sizzled against the shimmering blue shield that surrounded them but it would be a while before any of the guards caught up to them since Gwyn had released the other horses while Azriel had saddled this one and they were now running amok in the city streets.

An exhilerated laugh escaped her as they sprinted through the gates and into the forest, the shouts and sounds of alarm fading into the distance behind them.

"I'm never bringing you with me again," Azriel grumbled as they brought the horse to a halt and dismounted. The beast ran back towards the city with a smack on it's rear and Azriel's shadows swarmed around them both, preparing to winnow them back now that they’d crossed the wards.

"Oh, please," Gwyn chuckled. "That was this was the most excitement you've had in ages."

"Exactly," Azriel smirked as they were swallowed by darkness.

[era404-skib]

A Bit Disappointed with the Latest Episode

I feel like it was, in the nicest way possible, badly written. It feels all OOOOH SHITTTT when you first watch it but you realise the obvious "Wait, the fuck is this" moments after a bit of time to ruminate.

-○ Inconsistencies ○-

What. Has. Happened?! The Titans were fast and quick to fight previously, and they knew what they were doing, but now they don't??? That yellow-green energy ball that knocked TTV down? He could've batted it away with his sword right back to where it came from the same as how TCam later bats away the purple-yellow energy with the entrapper arm.

Then TTV lunges for him midair. Dont??? You can lunge from behind or teleport your hands onto him??? Cut off his jetpack like you are actually smart instead of leaving it to TSpeaker later??? I don't this this is TTVs fault either, it was just written poorly.

Titan Speaker and Camera fight pretty greatly except for when the muscle mutant appears on his shoulder. Keep blasting and just take him off and crush him in your hand! The mutant is about the size of a Strider Toilet and in the VERY FIRST EPISODE that TCam debuted in he picks up a strider and crushes it with ease. Can't be much different here.

"WAIT!!! YOU NEED ME!!!!!" should've said that shit EARLIER before you were fried and stripped of your upgrades. A big toilet that can ram and shoot slow energy balls is of no use against the astros. Cringed hard at that

TTV is well able to core beam down the flying toilets with the cargo but not obliterate GT like he did to the Scientist??? The fuck??? DFB this needs improvement

I know this is very nitpicky but I didn't like TTV's face at the end. Should be a >:( or even a D:< in the VCR font but nope.

-○ Powerscaling ○-

The Titans, as previously pointed out, are much slower compared to the previous few episodes. What's more, it just seems to a constant "Oh, my new guy is better" between the sides, except the Alliance hasn't been getting any improvement since TTVs return. Oh, now there's a secret agent which Fucking Gets your 2 Elites. You can't hurt him btw. Oh, now theres an overpowered Astro Toilet which can launch a titan that's caught in the mere blast radius. You can't hurt him btw. Oh, now GT is an indestructible hunk of meat that can be given the beating of a lifetime but still severely damages your titans and doesnt die. You can't hurt him btw. Ridiculous.

The jetpack he pulled out of his ass is the stupidest thing I've ever seen in the series. What the fuck??? This is like when kids play with eachother as their OC's and "Oh, you're about to kill mine, but it has a sudden get out of jail free card and there's nothing you can do". Fuck off. If more of this shit gets pulled the series is gonna jump the shark.

At this rate I think DFB is setting it up so that it's Secret Agent vs Astros vs Skibidis. Unless he gives us a new overpowered race or something, and j don't even want that. Have it be a fair but tough fight between them all.

[littlesweetchurro]

Malfunctioned

Chapter Two

Bakugou

Bakugou's fist slammed into the wall. The receptionist squeaked, her eyes wide.

"What the fuck do you mean, 'standard solutions'?" He snarled, looming over the desk. "Did you not hear a goddamn word I said?"

The woman—Bakugou hadn't bothered to learn her name—stammered something unintelligible. Her gaze darted around the room, looking anywhere but at the fuming hero in front of her.

Bakugou's teeth ground together. This was the third fucking support company he'd visited today, and his patience was hanging by a thread.

The first had been a joke. A bunch of starry-eyed idiots more interested in getting his autograph than actually fixing his gear. He'd stormed out after ten minutes, leaving behind a room full of singed eyebrows and bruised egos.

The second... Christ, the second had been even worse. He'd tried to play nice, really he had. But then they'd started talking about "upgrades" and "premium packages." As if he needed their overpriced bullshit. He'd made his opinion on that quite clear. Last he'd seen, they were still trying to put out the fire in their demo room.

And now this place. He'd had high hopes for this one. They came highly recommended, supposedly the best in the business. But so far, all he'd gotten was the same cookie-cutter crap as everywhere else.

"Listen here," Bakugou growled, leaning in close. The receptionist flinched back, the scent of his nitroglycerin sweat filling the air. "I need someone who can fix my gear. Not slap a band-aid on it, not sell me some fancy new toy. Fix. It. Is there anyone in this goddamn building capable of doing that?"

The woman's mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water. Bakugou's lip curled in disgust. Pathetic.

"I-I'll get the manager," she finally squeaked out.

Bakugou straightened, crossing his arms over his chest. "About fucking time."

As the receptionist scurried away, Bakugou paced the lobby like a caged animal. His eyes scanned the room, taking in the sleek furniture and modern art. All style, no substance. Just like everything else in this place.

He caught sight of his reflection in a polished chrome sculpture. His hair was a mess, more wild than usual. Dark circles shadowed his eyes. And there, just visible above his collar, was a thin scar from where a villain had gotten too close during his last patrol.

Bakugou's jaw clenched. He needed his gauntlets.

The sound of approaching footsteps pulled him from his thoughts. A man in an expensive suit strode towards him, plastering on a fake smile that made Bakugou's skin crawl.

"Dynamight, sir! It's an honor to have you here. I'm Tanaka, the head of our R&D department. I understand you're having some issues with your support gear?"

Bakugou's eyes narrowed. This fucker better not be another waste of his time.

"Yeah, you could say that," he growled. "My gauntlets aren't firing right. Misfires, weak blasts, the whole nine yards. I need it fixed, and I need it fixed yesterday."

Tanaka nodded, his smile never wavering. "Of course, of course. We'd be happy to take a look. Perhaps you'd like to come back to our lab? We have some exciting new prototypes that might interest you—"

"Did I fucking stutter?" Bakugou cut him off, his voice dangerously low. "I don't want your new shit. I want my gear fixed."

Tanaka's smile faltered for a moment before snapping back into place. "Ah, yes, of course. Well, why don't you show me the problem, and we'll see what we can do?"

Bakugou grunted, reaching into the duffel bag slung over his shoulder. He pulled out his gauntlets, slamming them onto a nearby coffee table hard enough to make the magazines scatter.

"There," he said, gesturing to the scorched and dented equipment. "Firing mechanism's fucked. Calibration's off. And the blast radius is all over the place."

Tanaka leaned in, examining the gauntlets with a furrowed brow. "Hmm, I see. These are quite... unique. Custom-made, I assume?"

Bakugou's eye twitched. "No shit. You think I'd wear some off-the-rack crap?"

"Of course not," Tanaka said smoothly. "It's just, well, our technicians might have some difficulty with such a specialized piece of equipment. Perhaps it would be easier if we started from scratch? We have some excellent new designs that—"

"For the last fucking time," Bakugou roared, his patience finally snapping, "I don't want your shitty new designs! I want these fixed!"

Fucks sake!

Was he fucking speaking German?

Tanaka took a step back, his practiced smile finally cracking.

"Now, now, there's no need for that kind of language," he said, holding up his hands placatingly. "I'm sure we can come to some sort of arrangement. Why don't we discuss this in my office?"

Bakugou's hands sparked, small explosions popping in his palms. "The only thing we're going to discuss is how quickly you can get someone competent to look at my gear."

Tanaka's eyes darted nervously to Bakugou's hands, then to the exit. "I... I'm not sure we have anyone available at the moment who could handle such a complex—"

"Bullshit," Bakugou snarled. He took a step forward, relishing the way Tanaka flinched. "You're supposed to be the best in the business. Are you telling me that was all talk?"

Sweat beaded on Tanaka's forehead. "N-no, of course not. It's just, well, custom work like this requires a certain level of expertise, and—"

"And what?" Bakugou's voice was quiet now, deadly calm. "You don't have that expertise? Is that what you're saying?"

Tanaka's mouth opened and closed, no sound coming out. Bakugou could practically see the wheels turning in his head, trying to find a way out of this situation without admitting defeat.

Bakugou's lip curled in disgust. He'd seen enough.

Without another word, he snatched up his gauntlets and shoved them back into his bag. He turned on his heel, stalking towards the exit.

"Wait!" Tanaka called after him. "Perhaps we could—"

The door slammed shut behind Bakugou, cutting off whatever pathetic offer Tanaka had been about to make.

Outside, Bakugou took a deep breath of the cool evening air. His hands were still smoking, small pops and crackles echoing in the quiet street.

Three companies. Three fucking failures.

You

Monday morning arrived with a vengeance, bringing with it a pounding headache and the harsh reality of your job at Tech Nexus Solutions. You dragged yourself to work, praying for an easy day to nurse your hangover. The universe, however, had other plans.

"Hey!" your coworker Hana called out as soon as you entered the office. "Mr. Morita is on the warpath. He's demanding changes to his support gear... again."

You groaned, rubbing your temples. Mr. Morita, aka Rubber Man was proving to be a notoriously difficult client, a minor pro-hero with an inflated ego and a penchant for nitpicking every detail of his gear. "What is it this time?" you asked, dreading the answer.

"He says the material isn't breathable enough and the color is off by two shades," Hana replied, wincing sympathetically.

"Of course it is," you answered.

Taking a deep breath, you steeled yourself for the impending confrontation.

The vane of your existence was calling people, you hated making phone calls. Why couldn't you just send an email? But no, you had to put on your big girl pants and be professional.

You grunted.

You dialed Rubber Man's number, putting on your most professional voice. "Good morning, Mr. Morita. I understand you have some concerns about your gear?"

What followed was a twenty-minute tirade about the supposedly subpar quality of his suit. You listened patiently, jotting down notes and occasionally interjecting with clarifying questions. When he finally paused for breath, you seized your opportunity.

"Mr. Morita," you began, in your most professional voice, "I appreciate your attention to detail. However, I must remind you that the material we used was specifically chosen for its durability and flexibility, which are crucial for your quirk. As for the color, I have the approved shade right here in front of me, and I can assure you it's exactly as specified."

"But it doesn't feel right!" he spluttered, making you wonder who, what single individual had been responsible for his fucking huge ego. His mom probably.

You smirked, thankful he couldn't see your expression over the phone. "Feeling right and being right are two different things, Mr. Morita. Perhaps what you're experiencing is the natural breaking-in period for new gear. I suggest giving it a week of regular use. If you're still unsatisfied, we can schedule a fitting to address any specific areas of discomfort."

There was a pause on the other end of the line. You held your breath, hoping your blend of logic and compromise would appease him.

"Fine. One week. But if I'm not satisfied, I expect immediate action."

"Of course, Mr. Morita. Your satisfaction is our top priority," you replied smoothly, hoping your customer service voice was on point today. "Is there anything else I can help you with today?"

After assuring him once more that his concerns were being taken seriously, you ended the call, exhaling loudly.

"Nicely handled," Hana said, impressed. "I thought he was going to demand a complete redesign."

You grinned, feeling a sense of accomplishment. "Sometimes you just need to speak their language. A little flattery, a dash of logic, and a sprinkle of standing your ground." You stood up and stretched trying to relieve the kink your neck. "You know all standards when dealing with heroes."

As the morning wore on, you found yourself in need of a caffeine boost. You made your way to the break room, hoping a strong cup of coffee would chase away the last vestiges of your hangover.

"Did you hear? Dynamight is looking for a new support company!"

Your ears perked up at the mention of the explosive hero. Dynamight, also known as Katsuki Bakugou, was one of the top heroes in Japan. Working with him would be a massive opportunity for any support company.

"Are you serious?" another voice chimed in. "That would be huge for us if we could land that contract!"

"Yeah, but can you imagine dealing with his temper? I heard he made his last support tech cry."

You freeze, coffee forgotten as you strain to hear more. You really didn't like gossip, not really, well maybe you did like it a bit when it wasn't about you.

"I heard he actually set fire to the last company's prototype room," someone says in a hushed tone.

You rolled your eyes. Typical hero gossip, probably exaggerated. Probably. Though you really couldn't be sure when it came to the explosive hero. Dynamight's temper was legendary, but so is his prowess as a hero. Working with him would be the opportunity of a lifetime.

"Can you imagine trying to work with that? He'd probably blast you across the room if you suggested an improvement."

You snorted quietly.

"His gauntlets are a work of art, though," someone mused. "The way they store his sweat and amplify his explosions is genius."

"True, but they're also incredibly complex. One wrong move and they could malfunction catastrophically."

You found yourself nodding in agreement. Dynamight's gauntlets were indeed impressive, a perfect example of how support gear could enhance a hero's natural abilities. The thought of working on such advanced equipment sent a thrill of excitement through you.

"Who do you think they'll assign to his account if we get it?" one of your coworkers asked.

"It'll have to be someone who can handle the pressure. And his attitude," another replied with a chuckle.

You took that as your cue to enter the break room, pretending and failing like you hadn't heard a thing. "Morning, everyone," you said casually, making a beeline for the coffee machine.

Your colleagues greeted you, their conversation shifting to more mundane topics. As you prepared your coffee, your mind raced with possibilities. Working with Dynamight would be challenging, no doubt, but it could also be the opportunity of a lifetime.

You returned to your desk, sipping your coffee thoughtfully. The idea of designing support gear for one of the top heroes in the country was exhilarating. Sure, Dynamight had a reputation for being difficult, but you'd just proven your ability to handle demanding clients.

You could do, you knew you could.

A small, ambitious, prideful part of you wondered knew you'd be perfect for the challenge. After all, if you could talk down Mr. Morita, how much worse could the explosive hero be?

Little did you know, you were about to find out exactly how much worse it could be.

[xtarart]

HAPPY 5 YEAR ANNIVERSARY DRAGALIA LOST!!! to mark this momentous occasion i decided to go back and recreate my old moveset for EUDEN AND MIDGARDSORMR FORGE A PACT WITH SMASH! this human and dragon duo have a unique playstyle that focuses on building up quick combos to help fill up a special meter as Euden who is a rather fast moving medium weight sword fighter. once the meter if full you can use the down special to transform into Midgardsormr for a limited amount of time to unleash devastating strength to overwhelm your foes! now for a quick rundown on their specials, starting with...

Euden's specials! which are as follows:

Neutral special, exalted fire: Euden shoots a flaming crescent from his sword that will move forward a set distance similar to clouds neutral special but if it makes contact with a foe it will continue on its path allowing you to hit multiple foes.

Side special, force strike: Euden will take a charging stance as a glowing arrow appears behind him and fills with a lighter color, when the b button is released once the arrow is fully glowing Euden will strike with a strong shield breaker attack, if b is let go before the attack is fully charged it will cancel the attack, it can also be aimed all 360 degrees.

Up special, blazing circlet: Euden will spin around with his blade outstretched and engulfed in flames spiraling him upward, if performed on the ground he will just spin in place instead of upward, think links spin attack but on fire and without the chargeable feature.

Down special when meter isn't full, Helper skills: Euden will call upon some of his closest allies to aid him in battle. each summon behaving almost like a mini assist trophy. the move has a 10 second cooldown to prevent spamming, also the summon order will not reset when K.O.ed. Euden can also freely move around once the ally is summoned on the field, allowing for some good combo potential with the ally. the order of summoning is as follows.

Elisanne, hallowed waters: Elly will leap upward and then strike downward with her spear while its coated in water mana, think a mix of yoshi and bowsers down specials mixed with corrins down air.

Ranzal, tornado bash: ranzal spins around his large axe trapping anyone who gets to close in a cyclone of hurt then at the end of the spinning he will swing his axe outward sending any foes caught flying, basically DK's up special but slower moving.

Luca, radiant bonds: Luca leaps upward and aims his bow at a slight downward angle and shoots an light mana charged mana arrow, the arrow will stun aany opponent it hits.

Cleo, elder cure: Cleo would float up into the air and hold her wand aloft and heals some of Eudens health.

the order then loops back to Elisanne repeating the cycle.

Down special when meter is full, Shapeshift: euden will ascend into the air and be enveloped in light which then disburses as he is transformed into Midgardsormr with whirlwind flows around him creating a weak hitbox to defend himself.

Final smash, exalted glory: Euden quickly dawns his gala armor and thrusts his sword into the ground, creating a radius of glowing energy around him dragging anyone he hits into a cutscene where the prince and his 4 allies join forces to unleash a powerful elemental barrage of attacks to send eudens foes flying. and now moving on to Midgardsormr’s specials.

Neutral special: Calamitious tempest. Midgardsormr would charge a ball of wind mana and launch it in an arc and when it lands or hits something it will explode into a blast of air, it’s chargeable which affects the strength and distance of the projectile.

Side special: Grand tempest. Midgardsormr claps his wings together to creat a small tornado that travels in a straight line a set distance then dissipates, anyone hit by the tornado will be launched straight up, making it a good tool for starting air combos, it also pushes mids back a bit cause of the powerful gale force of his wings clapping.

Up special: Tornado tail/Tornado spiral. On the ground Midgardsormr will perform his signature attack tornado tail, a powerful spin that sends near by foes flying. But in the air he instead summon a small tornado below him to push him upward, it’s similar to charizard’s up special.

Down special: Calamitous storm. Midgardsormr would unleash a powerful burst of wind mana around him devastating all those caught in its wake, but at a hefty cost, it drains his meter to empty forcing the player to revert back to Euden, the strength and size of the blast is dependent on how much energy is left in his dragon pulse meter. Like hero’s magic burst.

Final smash: Greatwyrms pact. Midgardsormr would let out a mighty roar that shakes the air around him, anyone to close to him would be dragged to a cutscene where the other 5 greatwyrms surround the players, the camera would then pan up to reveal Midgardsormr in his high dragon form charging a blast of wind mana, which he then unleashed on the foes and the other 5 greatwyrms also shoot off blasts their respected elemental mana. If the opponent is at over 100% damage it’s an automatic K.O. by learning how to take the unique playstyle's of both Euden and Midgardsormr in tandem you can overcome any obstacle in your path with ease. thank you for reading and heres to 5 years of remembering one of the greatest mobile games of all time and a forgotten gem of a nintendo franchise, heres hoping one day we will see the world of Dragalia Lost again. HAPPY 5TH ANNIVERSARY!!!

[exhuastedpigeon]

Writer meme: 12, 16, and 32

Hi Inell <3

12. how does receiving or not receiving feedback/support impact you? Honestly, not getting comments on a fic, even just a little emoji to show that someone liked it, it disheartening. Seeing a work that I put hours into and really loved not getting any interactions SUCKS and makes me want to not share fic anymore sometimes.

Because I write fic for myself, but I share it because I want other people to read it and enjoy it too.

16. How many fic ideas are you nurturing right now? Share one of them? ..... like 10?

The latest is called 'my kink is karma' and I have one line written for it...

"Eddie can't actually say he's sorry to see Taylor Kelly's career going up in flames, he’s just sorry that Buck, the whole 118 really, got caught in the blast radius. "

32. Name three of your favorite fanfic writers. Okay well at least one of these is SO easy because HELLO IT'S YOU! You know I've loved your fic since before we were even friends. 911 is just the latest fandom we get to share and now I get to read your writing all the time again.

It's really hard to name just three because I love so many amazing writers. I'm going to cheat and give more than 3 because that's too hard and I'm only going to mention ones from tumblr because I'm currently too lazy to go into Ao3.

@tommykinards (Amanda it took me three tires to get your username right 😂), @shitouttabuck, @elvensorceress, @neverevan, @honestlydarkprincess @cal-daisies-and-briars

I feel like I extra cheated because I listed 7 writers but I'm not sorry. In fact, the only thing I'm sorry about is not being able to include more people because I have so many amazing writer friends and they all deserve their flowers.

Get to know your fic writer!

[wisteriasymphony]

Adrinette April Day 16 (What If) + Secret Bonus AU Pitch

The Miraculous Jazz Ensemble (What if... Band Kids?)

Five minutes and forty seconds. Five minutes and forty seconds. That was how long it took Marinette to work up the courage to ask Adrien. She wasn't counting the half-hour during lunch, the odd few minutes during every passing period, or even the days since she'd thought of asking, because those had technically all failed. All she ever really needed were those five minutes and forty seconds.

Marinette approached Adrien, who was currently immersed in his homework. He'd been taking accelerated math classes this year, breezing through calculus and a bunch of other theorems and rules that Marinette could never wrap her head around just yet, and he had a habit of working on his calc homework whenever he could just to pass the time. Chewing on the end of his pen, too.

Marinette sat down next to him; He didn't seem to notice her. She scooted closer—once, twice, not a third time. Just enough distance to not break out into a ball of sweat

"Whatcha doin'?" she asked, trying to look cool. If she'd failed (and she sure felt like she did) Adrien didn't seem to notice.

"Integrating by parts!" Adrien smiled, closing his textbook. "It's fascinating, really." He then opened his mouth as if he was going to explain the concept, but he stopped, thinning his lips. "What are you doing?"

Marinette, as always, responded with nervous laughter. "U-uhm, just sitting here!" she said, grinning back. "Hanging out with my best buddy!" ...She wanted to kick herself in the butt for saying that out loud. Way to friendzone yourself, Marinette.

For a moment, as the lack of conversation topic set in for the both of them, Marinette realized that she might, again, need another five minutes. But she didn't have those five minutes anymore, and if she was going to ask Adrien she needed to ask him now.

"Are you, uh— Are you free on Friday?" she asked, unable to look him in the eye. Her fingers couldn't decide on how to link together, her hands fidgeting in something similar to somersaults, over and under and over again. She let herself glance quickly at Adrien to make sure he hadn't dissipated into thin air; There he was, cute as ever, the afternoon sunlight making it seem like his hair was glowing."

"I am," he replied. "Why?"

Oh, god, oh god, now it sounded like she was asking him on a date! And if she made it sound like that then everybody else would think it was a date, and if people started to think that her and Adrien were dating she'd barely be able to concentrate ever again! C-cause then they might hold hands or sit next to each other at lunch or—

"You do band! Yes!" she exclaimed, falling back on the bench somewhat. "Th-that is a thing we both do!"

"Marinette, we're in the same band class. We're in one of the only band classes."

"Y-yes. And, uhm— I was just wondering if.. you'd like to..."

She glanced at Adrien. Then the floor. His textbook. Adrien again. Everywhere else in the world.

"...Join a jazz ensemble with me."

Adrien raised his eyebrows, surprised by the sentiment. He placed his textbook beside him on the bench, turning in towards Marinette more.

"I didn't know we had a jazz department."

"W-well, we don't yet," Marinette stammered. "Mr. E told me he's been working on it for years, and he encouraged me to ask around t-to see who was interested. Alya is interested, and so is Nino, so I thought it'd only be fair if I asked you, too."

As if he knew exactly what would catapult her heart into orbit, Adrien took one of her hands in his, staring her down.

"Marinette," he said. "This is serious. Do you really think we're ready for this?"

"ACK-!" She pushed him away, worried that if he was too close he'd be caught in the blast radius a sudden heart explosion. It was clear by the way he was giggling that he meant it as a joke, but that didn't make her any less flustered. "You're so mean, Adrien!"

"Sorry, sorry. I am honored, though. So what's Friday?"

"Friday is the interest meeting. Mr. E wanted to make everything as official as possible. ...That's also when we'll see if we have enough people for a full band, rather than just an ensemble." Marinette fidgeted again, now feeling like she was again far too close to Adrien for it to be friendly. "Y-you don't have to do it, though."

"I mean, if it's another chance to see you, I wouldn't mind," he replied. "I'll be there Friday. I'm assuming after school."

oh sweet baby jesus he couldn't just say things like that out loud. holy cow. wow.

"Awesome!" Like a total dork, Marinette gave Adrien a double-thumbs-up. Now that he'd said yes, she needed to get out of there before she made an even bigger fool of herself. "I, uh— I have to go! ...And, uh. Do some things," she said, standing up so fast it gave her a head rush. "See you tomorrow!"

'If it's another chance to see you', 'another chance to see you'. She'd be thinking about that for the rest of her life, maybe. 'Another chance to see you', and he wouldn't mind. He maybe even would like it.

Seven minutes and one second, seven minutes and two...

[whisker-biscuit]

SlyFox Day 2: Snow

Sly huffed a silent sigh of relief as he placed the last of the explosive charges at the base of the last vampire crypt. The Panda King had gone off ahead at his insistence that he could finish this by himself – a fact they were both happy about – and watching the older man clear away the last of the active undead mantises with fireworks and flame before he took his leave was something the raccoon would never be able to get used to.

And it had nothing to do with vampires.

He set the timer for the detonation and retreated to a safe distance on higher ground to watch the upcoming explosion. The crypt was right at the bottom of a hill of snow that looked a breeze away from toppling into a miniature avalanche, and Sly was admittedly a little excited to see it. He was taking every chance at levity he could cling to while at this stupid palace, with its stupid owner, and the stupid decision Bentley had made to trust the goddamn Panda King.

So caught up he was in his momentary bitterness that he nearly missed the bob a familiar flashlight as Inspector Fox rounded the corner. Sly had only a few seconds to be surprised at her presence and wonder what lead had brought her up this far before she shined her light on the literal time-bomb of a crypt and that surprise turned to alarm.

There was no time to think. There was barely time to act. The thief launched himself off of his perch straight for her, hoping against hope to knock them both out of the blast radius. She was just starting to turn around at the sound of him when he slammed into her, sending them both tumbling, but before either could do anything else there was a BOOM that shook the ground and deafened his senses –

And then the world went white.

Sly woke up with a groan that quickly turned into chattering teeth. His entire body felt stiff and frozen from head to toe, and his head was still ringing from the aftermath of the explosion. When he tried to sit up, his vision swam so badly that it nearly made him pass out again.

“Oh. You’re awake.”

The sound of Carmelita’s voice broke through the fog in his senses and brought him right back to the present. He locked his jaw to stop his loud shivering and looked over towards the direction she’d spoken from. Sure enough, she was sitting just out of reach, holding her arm close to her chest and glaring daggers at him.

His heart jumped to his throat at the sight. “Are you hurt?”

“I am, no thanks to you,” she snapped, making him wince. “What the hell were you doing up here?!”

“Blowing up vampires.” The truth fell off his tongue easily, and not just because it often did around her. It was better to be honest when it came to pinning terrible crimes on terrible criminals.

“Uh huh.” Inspector Fox looked less skeptical of the idea of vampires and more skeptical of the idea of him playing vampire hunter. “And does ‘blowing up vampires’ involve this?”

She glanced around meaningfully, and Sly finally registered the rest of their environment. They were trapped in a narrow air pocket surrounded on all sides by snow, so cramped that there wasn’t enough room to stand or even get more than a few feet away from each other. The raccoon sucked in a worried breath through his teeth.

“Don’t try to break through it,” she warned him before he could even think of it. “I already tried, and the whole thing nearly came down on top of us. There’s no telling how much snow is above us right now, and I don’t want to risk suffocation if it falls.”

The thief swallowed. His whole body was shivering, now. “How long was I out?”

“Only a few minutes. I think you got hit in the head with a piece of whatever you were blowing up.” When he gave a meaningful, scrutinous look towards her cradled hand, she shook her head. “Happened when we were rolling after you tackled me. Feels more like a sprain than a break.”

Sly couldn’t help the way he visibly relaxed at that. Carmelita watched him like a hawk.

“Have you called your mercenary friends to tell them what happened?”

“No. My radio got lost somewhere in the avalanche.” This time, instead of glaring at him with obvious blame, she simply closed her eyes and let out a frustrated sigh. “Just my luck, huh? You’re finally trapped right in front of me with nowhere to go, and I can’t even call for backup.”

“Maybe not, but I can.”

Her eyes snapped open when he pulled out his binocucom, but she didn’t say a word as he started calling Bentley. The line rung for less than a heartbeat before the turtle answered.

“Sly! Where are you? Did you take down the last crypt?”

“Sure did, Bentley, but there were some, uh…complications.”

He pulled up the visual aid and did a slow scan across the tiny space, including Inspector Fox’s scowling face, then flipped it back around towards him. His best friend let out a string of words that were very complicated but probably very vulgar. Sly could tell he was in for a hell of a lecture about this later.

“Give us ten minutes max and we’ll get you out of there. Both of you,” he amended when Sly raised an eyebrow. “Just don’t do anything stupid until then, and leave your binocucom on so we can find you.”

“Roger that.”

The raccoon put the device back in his leg pouch and wrapped his arms around his knees, suddenly all too aware of the bitter cold making him shiver. Ten minutes was a long time to wait in the snow when you were only wearing a sweater-shirt and boots more built for stealth than snow.

As if sensing his thoughts, Carmelita let out an irritated huff and patted the ground beside her. Sly didn’t move an inch.

“You, uh…you sure?” He asked.

“I’m only offering because you’ll freeze to death before your gang shows up,” she said pointedly, shifting her weight to very obviously hide the way she was also shaking. “You can’t be brought to justice if you’re dead.”

A smile finally crossed the thief’s lips. “Of course, not. We wouldn’t want me to escape the consequences of my actions with such a pathetic way to go.”

“Exactly.” The word was hissed with as much conviction as possible, but he could still see the faint flicker of her own smile before it was quickly buried under indifference. “Now get over here before I change my mind.”

He did so.

“If you ever tell anyone about this, Ringtail…” she threatened as they huddled together, arms wrapped around each other.

Sly smothered his grin, partly because he knew she wasn’t bluffing and partly because her tail was curling around his seemingly without her conscious knowledge.

“Wouldn’t dream of it, Inspector.”

And he meant every word.

[spahhzy]

???: Jauneee~ohh Jauunee~

Blue eyes slowly opened to see a pair of white irises looking at him with playfulness.

???: Can you hear me, Jaune?

Jaune's mind finally caught up with him, and his srise widened in surprise. It was the Curious Cat, but...didn't Neo-

CC: Oh, come now, Rusty, don't act all surprised you knew sooner or later this was going to happen, a curious part of me stuck deep inside you~

Jaune rose to his feet, grabbing his head as it ached in pain before channeling a little aura, the dull thudding going away.

CC: You know I got to say 'Remnant' is disappointing, all the colors are sooo dull and dreary not like anything back home in the EverAfter but I suppose I'll have to get used to it won't I?

Jaune said nothing as he looked around him. He had stopped Cinders' plan but now a new problem has arisen...

CC: Enough about my short assessment of your home. It's time we agree on some priorities! Yes. You stopped Cinders' plan, and the blast radius has been reduced, but this facility is still about to go kaboom! I know you like to play pretend and be a selfless hero, but you gotta start looking out for yourself, after all... you're brooding for two now~

CC then proceeds to jump on Jaune's shoulder and nuzzle itself in Jaune's cheek, who just scowled unsure of how to respond, if he should at all, but that can come later it was time to get out of here.